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Finding Tim

A Fourth Alternate Reality

by Charlie
With editorial assistance from Dix and John


Six of us were headed for the Olympic Trials of 1988. I'm Jody, and Charlie asked me to tell the story of the six hopefuls heading to the Olympics. He said he wanted it told by one of the Olympians from the Gang. He wanted it to be written by someone for whom it would be their first Olympics. Only Murray and I fit those requirements, and he disqualified Murray because he had at least been to the Olympic Trials in 1984.

As usual I was to start with a little autobiography, especially a sexual autobiography. Well, I just looked over the previous episodes in which I appear and there isn't really much more that I can tell you. Unless you count watching my parents and being watched by them, I had no sexual adventures of any kind until the ones you're going to read about here-well, you didn't think I'd leave them out, did you? Or actually get to Seoul without insisting that Hal keep his promise? Now, really.

I dated some in high school, beginning in ninth grade. Hell, I was the big basketball star; I could just about have my pick of the girls. I hardly needed to ask, they'd ask me. I guess if I'd really wanted, I could've let them invite me and pay for the dates. I know there were plenty of girls willing. They were eager for sex as well. My first ever date was in ninth grade, and the girl took my hand in the movies and placed it right on her right boob. When I pulled it away, she pulled it back and pushed it down under her dress. I was a ninth grader (so was she) and totally naive. But I had the good sense to know that this wasn't for me. We didn't date again. But the incident repeated itself in a variety of forms. I don't want to say that every girl I asked out threw herself at me. But it happened more often than not, and the older we got, the more blatant the throwing.

In my junior year I took out Pam Stevens, and much to my relief she seemed perfectly happy to have a nice date, pleasant conversation, good dinner, TV at my house with my parents not too far away, and a direct ride home-no goodnight kiss. I kissed her goodnight on the second date, and on the third she brought up the subject of sex. I was flabbergasted by her stories. It seems that I was the subject of a lot of girl gossip. She said, "Face it, Jody, you're a fabulously handsome six foot eight, star of an unbeaten basketball team which is almost certain to repeat as state champions, and every girl's dream. Of course they talk about you." According to Pam, the talk about me took one of two forms: "Oh, my God, he's gorgeous, but he won't go past first base." Or, "Oh my God sex with Jody was wonderful!"

"Who said that?"

"I don't think I should name names, but I've heard at least two girls claim they scored with you, Jody. I'm guessing it was in their dreams. Am I right?"

"Damn right, you're right. That really upsets me."

"Oh, don't be upset, Jody. Don't tell me that a lot of the talk in your locker room isn't about guys latest scores. Believe me, at lot of that's fiction as well. Teens simply talk more than they do."

"I still don't like it."

"Jody, is it going to upset you if we don't have sex?"

"Of course not. Love has to come before sex, and at seventeen I'm not ready for love, maybe a good case of puppy love, but not real love."

"Thank you, Jody. I agree."

We dated into the spring of that junior year, but the dating slowed down as Hal and I got more and more into running marathons. Pam and I had gotten to know each other pretty well, and we were able to talk honestly about our relationship. We each understood that it wasn't working. I was more faithful to my running than to Pam, and Pam wasn't able to play second fiddle to my running. By this time she'd gotten to know Hal and Sue, and she admitted that Sue could accept Hal and accept second fiddle to running. I think maybe she admired Sue for that, maybe not, but it wasn't for her. In any case, we pulled off what can only be called a high school miracle. We broke up and stayed friends. Not only that, we were able to date from time to time and enjoy it, with no false hopes on either side. About midway through our senior year Pam got serious with another guy and we had to stop dating, but we didn't stop being friends.

But I digress. No sex, lots of running. The wonderful trip to the New York Marathon. Hal's promise, which he hadn't yet followed through on, but I was sure that he would. Then one afternoon when I came home from school Mom said, "Guess who's coming to dinner tomorrow night?"


"Hal and Sue."

"What's the occasion?"

"That's for me to know and you to find out."


"Skip running after school, do your homework, and come to dinner looking nice."

"I always run with Hal after school."

"Not tomorrow. He won't be expecting you."

"You're not going to tell me more than that?"

"Definitely not."


"Definitely not."

I knew when further discussion was useless. I should've been able to guess what was going down, but I really didn't. The next 24 hours passed slowly, but I made it through school the next day. I came home and before dinner managed to finish all the work due the next day. At 6:30 Hal and Sue arrived, without Junior or Bud. Dumb me; I asked where the boys were.

"They're spending the night in The Hideout. Fyn, Arnie, and Margie are spending the night there with them. They'll have a good time."

I still didn't tumble!

We had a nice dinner, and Hal and I answered a lot of questions from my mom and dad about our running, plans for Boston, the Trials, and going to Seoul. Everybody seemed to just assume that both Hal and I would make the Olympic team. I wasn't so sure.

Conversation lingered over dessert, which we ate in the living room. About 8:30, long before our usual bedtime, Mom said, "Well, I think it's time for bed. Jody, you'll be sleeping in the guest room tonight."

I tumbled! But I had a hard time talking. "Is what I think.... I mean, is...."

Mom said, "Jody, just go up to bed. I think you'll be able to figure things out for yourself."

I kissed Mom and Dad goodnight and then I walked over to Hal. I wasn't sure just what was appropriate. Did we shake hands? Did I hug him? Did I kiss him? Before I had to decide he opened his arms wide and I leaned over. He moved his head, indicating that a hug was appropriate. As we hugged I was shocked to feel his hand on my balls, actively massaging them. Clearly this was obvious to everybody in the room, and he didn't seem in the least disturbed by that. Then he pushed away a little and said, "Kiss me, Jody."

I did, and quickly his tongue slipped into my mouth and we engaged in a long, quite profound kiss. When we came up for air, he stood up, turned me around so I was facing Sue and my parents. He came up tight behind me, slipped his arm around my waist and again massaged my genitals. After a short while he said, "Sit for a minute before you head upstairs, Jody."

As I walked to a chair my pants were tenting in a way that I couldn't possibly hide. My mom said, "Jody, your face is as red as your dick is hard."

How does an eighteen year old boy handle a situation like that? Well, it was simple, I sat as quickly as I could, arranged my legs to cover things as best I could, and got redder and redder in the face.

Dad began to laugh, followed by all of the others. At first I didn't see anything funny about it at all, but the laughing was contagious and I joined in. Hal ended it by saying, "Jody, I think you need a little explanation."

"More than a little, perhaps. I think I've just been ambushed."

"You were. We all knew pretty much what was coming. Let me explain," continued Hal.

"Please do."

"I made you a promise when we came home from New York. I knew, at least I assumed, that you'd wait for me to make the first move. But I also knew that the waiting wasn't going to help your disposition, so it had to be fairly quick. I also knew that it had to be a situation in which your parents, and my wife, knew exactly what was going on. We all understand that there can be no secrets in this relationship. My first thought, considering your sleeping habits, was to just slip into your bed alongside your parents."

"Oh, my God, no! That's too much," I almost shouted.

"That was my first thought. It passed pretty quickly. But coming to your house seemed the best plan, and thus my phone call to Anna yesterday. She liked my suggestion, and we made arrangements for tonight. My fondling you, which had you pretty embarrassed, was simply my way of acknowledging to your folks, and Sue, what's likely to happen upstairs. Now why don't we go upstairs together?"

I asked, "Where's Sue going to sleep?"

"Either in your room, or with your parents, whichever they decide. That isn't our concern. Let's head upstairs."

Hal had both of our shirts off by the time we got to the head of the stairs, and he dropped them on the floor. He knelt there and pulled down my pants and slipped them off, along with my shoes and socks. I did the same for him. We left our clothes in a pile and walked over to the guest room door. As I paused to turn the handle I felt my briefs going down. I turned to Hal, knelt down, and pulled his down. Hal dropped mine outside the door, and I did the same. Only then did we open the door and walk inside.

Someone had really done a job on the room. The usual clutter that often filled our guest room was gone. Two soft lamps were lit in opposite corners of the room. One of the lamps I recognized, the other seemed to be new. The bed was turned down, exposing crisp white sheets, obviously new. On the bedside table was a tube of KY. A cassette with some romantic music was playing in the background. And there on an easel was a chalk drawing of Hal and me in an unusual pose. I looked at it carefully, and realized that we were head to foot on a bed-wait, it was this bed in this room-each making love to the other's legs of steel! In the lower right hand corner was, "Go for it," and it was signed, "Sid."

I couldn't believe it.

On the pillow was a note card with the seal of the University of North Dakota School of Law on the front. I opened it and read, "I am delighted to share Hal's legs of steel with you, Jody, and Hal has agreed to share yours with Tim and me. Love, Charlie."

By the time I'd read that, I was in tears, Hal was hugging me, and we were slipping into the bed together. Hal really did make love to my legs, from toes to groin and back to the other toes. Then he said, "I never really understood Charlie's fascination with my legs until right now. And, wow, there are about four more inches to yours than to mine."

I returned the favor, but I'll admit to paying more attention to the third leg of steel that jutted out between the other two. Hal said, "Jody, tell me, except for masturbating, this is your first sexual experience, isn't it."

"Yes. Oh, God, Hal, it's wonderful."

"How do you want your first orgasm at the hands of another person?"

"Will you suck me, please, oh please?"

"Of course, but let's play a little first."

"I'm so close to coming, I can't play first. Please just suck me."

He did, and my orgasm was mighty, indeed. I don't know how Hal kept my dick in his mouth, the way I bucked and tossed. But he held on, and without biting me. Then we were kissing, and I was tasting my semen for the first time. Before this, when I'd jacked off and thought about putting my sperm in my mouth the idea had grossed me out. Now here I was, eagerly kissing Hal and greedily accepting all of me that Hal's tongue pushed my way. How different sex is when you're in the arms of someone you love. And I did love Hal. I'm happily married now, but I still love him. And the times I have sex with Hal today are almost, but not quite, as good as that first time, in our guest room, with Sue and my parents next door, fully aware of, and enthusiastic about, what we were doing.

As I sucked Hal, I thought to myself, "The Gang has it right, and I'm so very lucky to have found them."

The next morning Hal told me of his rule that hugging, kissing, and sleeping together were OK the night before a race, but that he never had an orgasm the day before a race. In his words, "A little sexual tension helps you run." I wasn't so sure, but he wasn't giving me a choice, at least if I wanted him to be involved. Considering his running record, I thought it might be a little foolish for me to resist that advice.

Later in the day Mom went with me into the guest room and we looked at Sid's picture of Hal and me. I said, "Hal must've been planning this for some time, if he got Sid to draw this picture."

"It's very good, but I don't know where you're going to display it. It looks like he caught the image very well. I wonder how...."

"I asked Hal. He and Charlie posed for Sid to get the physical position right. Then Sid got out the sketches he made of us when he did the portrait for Gangland."

"He came by here a few days ago to look at the room."

"I think I'm going to ask if the picture can hang in Gangland, at least for a while."

"Who do you ask? Tim? Charlie?"

"I think Carl. Gangland was Carl's idea and his contribution to the Gang. Everyone seems to defer to his decisions regarding the place."

"I think putting it there is a good idea. Well, I need to call Sid and offer to pay for the painting. It's enough that he contributed all the Gangland portraits."

"Uh, Mom, I think you might want to rethink that idea. Do you have any idea what it would cost to commission a portrait like that one?"

"No, I honestly don't. Do you?"

"Yeah, I do. You know, Hal and I have had a lot of time together over the past months. He's a good talker, even when he runs, and I'm a good listener."

"OK, so what would a portrait like that cost?"

"In oil, $25,000."

"You have to be kidding!"

"Not only that, people are standing in line. Sid's portrait commissions are booked months in advance. Standard rate: $15,000 for a single portrait, $25,000 for a portrait of more than one person. I suppose chalk would be a little cheaper, but not much. People are paying for the name, and it's the same name whether oil or chalk. Besides, Mom, Sid would be offended if you even thought about paying for the picture. His artistry is his gift to the Gang. It would be like our offering to pay rent to Carl for Gangland. That group simply doesn't work that way."

"I'll have to warn your dad that he can't charge for German tutoring for Gang members!"


"Just kidding."

"Mom, I have to ask. Weren't you and Dad a little uncomfortable when Hal started feeling me up?"

"We did know it was coming. Hal had discussed most of his plans with us-except the picture and note from Charlie were last minute additions that we didn't know were coming. Hal came over during the day yesterday and we set the room up together. He's really a very sweet thoughtful man, Jody."

"That isn't news, Mom, but I like hearing you say it. What about the sex?"

"Your father knew what he was implying when he said, "Go for it," in regard to the Gang. We'd discussed it. Last night was the logical conclusion."

"I don't think it was a conclusion."

"OK, wrong choice of words. Were we uncomfortable? Sure, at first. But we understand that the evening was very important to you, Jody. We can't think of it as evil or sinful. There was too much love and goodness, pure joy, involved. Sue slept in the big bed with us, but nothing happened. She didn't push and neither did we. I think it'll happen some day. Maybe when you and Hal are roommates in the Olympic Villiage in Seoul."

"I love you, Mom."

"I love you, too, Jody. But I don't think it's going to lead to sex."


I was learning things about my mom that I hadn't dreamed of. She's quite a gal. When I look around at other kids and their parents, I realize how lucky I'm to have the parents I have. I said that to Tim once and he laughed, and said, "Jody, most of us in the Gang are that lucky. You know, our parents have a lot to do with who we are. The amazing young people are the ones like Toppy, Murray, and Marty who got to be the way they are without the good fortune of great parents."

I haven't said much about the Olympics, have I? Well, I'll try to focus.

You already know that the wrestling Trials were the first that involved any of the Gang or other North Dakota hopefuls. Murray had secured his place by being undefeated in the Trials. He continued to work his butt off practicing. He not only wanted a trip to the Opening Ceremony, he wanted a trip to one of the winners' podia. He was doing his best to leave nothing to chance.

Jimmy Keelson's Archery Trials were up next. They would be in St. Louis, a suburb named University City to be exact. A special range had been set up in Heman Park, a large community park pretty much in the center of town, and about seven miles west of downtown St. Louis. The university referred to by the name of the town is Washington University which was the site of the 1904 Olympic Games. The university still uses the Olympic Games field for some of its athletics. However, just as the St. Louis World's Fair (think of "Meet Me in St. Louis, Louis," ice cream cones, hot dogs, iced tea, cotton candy, Dr. Pepper, and Puffed Wheat) overshadowed the 1904 Olympic Games, the as yet unused new buildings of the university which were leased to the World's Fair before the new university campus opened now greatly overshadow the athletic field, now called Francis Field, that had hosted the Olympic Games. While archers other than Jimmy Keelson were shooting, I was reading a really interesting book about the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, commonly known as the St. Louis World's Fair. (Except when singing the song, the "s" is always pronounced.) Well! I had to do something to keep from falling asleep while I watched the Archery Trials. Sorry, Charlie, an exciting sport it isn't. (Charlie advises me that it was exciting for William Tell's son.)

About two weeks before the Trials Charlie called me up and said, "Jody, Tim and I think it'd be neat to take IT to St. Louis for the Archery Trials. How many people do you think are going to be going?"

"Why are you calling me?"

"Jody, I keep track of what's going on in the Gang, and I know that you've really befriended Jimmy and have been helping him. I assumed that you would probably be on top of things. Am I right?"

"Yeah. Well, let's see. Me. Jimmy and his parents. You and Charlie. I'll bet Hal and Sue want to come. I think the guy from the archery club's planning on going with Jimmy. What's his name?"

"Mike Federer."

"Yeah, him. I'd like Phil and Franklin to come, they can be really supportive. Maybe a few others. Jimmy isn't a Gang member, so even though people are supporting him, most hadn't been planning on heading to St. Louis for the Trials. I'm sure that Fred will want to come; I can't imagine him not wanting to play host with the most again. The Olympics and the Trials are his big show, you know. If Fred, then Marty."

"Well, I count thirteen names. That's two more than IT's seating capacity. I'll bet there'll be a few others. We can take IT and drive a car or two. I don't know Jimmy's parents, but if they're game we can all squeeze into IT to sleep the one night on the road down and again coming back. We'll need a hotel in St. Louis."

"Does Jimmy know you're thinking about this?"

"Not yet. I wanted to talk to you first. You think it's a good idea?"

"I think it's great. Jimmy'll be stunned. He can't help but feel supported."

"That's the idea."

"I can't believe you're doing this for someone outside the Gang."

"Maybe we're recruiting."

"I know better. You're just being the really nice guy you are."

"Thanks, Jody."

"Shall I tell Jimmy, or do you want to call him?"

"Why don't you be the Gang's ambassador to Jimmy? But just talk about you and your friends, don't get the Gang as such involved."


Late that afternoon I went out to the practice range and watched Jimmy a while. His concentration was impressive, and it was almost an hour before he took any kind of a break; then he looked around and saw me and walked over. "Hi, Jody, what brings you out this evening?"

"You. I have an invitation for you."

"What's that?"

"Tim and Charlie have this huge bus made into a rolling house. It's called IT, and they're taking IT down to St. Louis for the Archery Trials. You and your parents are invited to ride along."

"We were going to fly down from Fargo."

"I don't think this is an invitation you want to pass up. Fred, of Fred's Sports, will be making hotel arrangements for the entire group."

"We were going to stay in a little mom and pop motel west of the city. We can't afford expensive lodging."

"When Fred makes arrangements, nobody sees a bill."

"We can't accept that kind of gift from someone we hardly know."

"Fred will rectify that in St. Louis. After this trip you'll know him well. Have you had a chance to talk to him?"

"Once, at Tim and Charlie's house. He seemed nice."

"Nice doesn't quite do Fred justice."

"I'll talk to my parents. They're going to be very hesitant."

"Don't let them be. Believe me, this is an invitation you can't afford to pass up. And I don't mean financially. Just talk to Tim; love and support make all the difference in sports, and that's what you're being offered."

The trip to St. Louis in IT was a ball. Everyone named above went along, as did Arnie, Fyn, and Margie. We traded off who rode in Franklin's car and who was in IT. Franklin and Phil traded off driving the car, and Tim and Charlie traded off driving IT. We overnighted in a rest area in Iowa. We gave the three Keelsons the bedroom in the back of the bus and everyone else slept in the main living area. That included Mike Federer, so we had to be fairly restrained and modest, especially with the Keelsons aboard, and their having to go back and forth to the bathroom. To save water and time, we told everybody to skip showers; they could be taken care of the next night in the hotel in St. Louis.

The hotel Fred had chosen was the Cheshire Inn, not far from Washington University, and not far from Heman Park where the Trials would be held. We'd taken a weekend to drive down, and had two days in St. Louis before the Trials, which would take place on Wednesday and Thursday. Practice facilities were available for the archers on Monday and Tuesday. The Cheshire Inn was lovely, with English antiques all over the place, delightful rooms, and a great restaurant next door. The place had started as a hamburger joint in the early 1940s, had become a nice restaurant, changed hands in the 1950s to the present ownership, which had built the Inn in which we were staying. When they learned who we were, and in particular that Tim and Charlie were part of the group, they provided us transportation over to Heman Park in their double decker bus. They even had room to park IT on their back lot, and we let IT sit there, not wanting to try to maneuver around city streets.

There was some discussion about who Jimmy should sleep with. He and his parents assumed that he'd simply be in the room with them, but Fred had booked a separate room for him-a room with two beds. Fred came to me and said, "Jimmy shouldn't be alone this week, nor do I think that rooming with his parents is the right thing. You've gotten to know him, will you sleep with him? Don't worry, I made sure the room had two queen beds-you need a whole queen to yourself to handle those long legs."

Jimmy liked the idea of my rooming with him, and I liked it as well. I thought it was important that I establish a precedent with Hal that he didn't have to sleep with me every time we were near each other. He did have a wife who had a prior claim. My being with Jimmy let Hal be with Sue. However, I learned later that while Sue and Hal were together the first night, the rest of the time they were trading off. In particular, Charlie likes Hal's legs and Sue likes Tim's whole body. It works for them!

The room that Jimmy and I shared was wonderful. Beautifully decorated in an English motif, it was large enough for two queen beds, a table with four chairs, and two easy chairs-all without feeling crowded. Jimmy walked in with me and as the bellman set down our suitcases Jimmy looked around and said, "Wow."

The bellman smiled and said, "A lot of people react that way. It is a nice room, isn't it?"

"You bet."

I tipped him well and we were left alone. Jimmy sat in one of the easy chairs and motioned me to the other. "Can we talk a little?" he asked.

"What's on your mind?"

"Jody, if we're going to be sharing a room, I need to tell you something."


"I'm gay."


"That doesn't bother you? Sleeping in the room with me doesn't bother you?"

"Should it?"

"Jody, it shouldn't. But in the real world we know that it often does."

"You do know that in the crowd with us here--on the bus and in Franklin's car-there were a lot of gay people? Tim and Charlie are completely out. So are Franklin and Phil, but you may not know them. Fred and Marty are a couple. In this crowd you're a round peg in a round hole."

"That's not the usual experience for a gay man."

"This lot doesn't deal in usual experiences. We like to think we're unusual. Now, about this room and the sleeping arrangements. You told me about yourself, I'll tell you about me. I'm probably the only straight man you'll ever meet who hasn't had a straight sexual relationship but has had a gay relationship."


"Let me start with this: Tim's mantra is that there's at least a little gay and a little straight in almost everyone. In my case, love and support for my running came from a man, and we've had a sexual relationship. Up to now, I haven't found a girl that I loved, so I haven't had straight sex. What about you? A lover, partner, what?"

"A failed romance with a boy at NDSU. A guy that I go camping with now that I hope will fall in love with me. Too soon to tell."

"Good luck."

"Thanks. You do understand that I didn't tell you this because I want to sleep with you tonight?"

"Yes. But in the spirit of this very sexy lot of gay men, I hope that I can peek."

He laughed, and said, "Only if I can, too. You know, you have a fabulous body. Seeing all of it is going to be a thrill."

"You can even touch." At that the tent that had been growing in his pants, but which he'd been hiding as best he could, became unhideable. I pointed. "Looks like you'd like to accept that offer."

"I think so."

"Well, it's dinner time now. Fred's taking the group to The Cheshire, the restaurant next door. See if you can get Jimmy Junior there under control and let's go eat."

It was a good dinner, and the Keelsons almost embarrassed Fred they thanked him so much for his hospitality and for hosting dinner. They'd gotten my message, sent through Jimmy, that they shouldn't try to refuse Fred's generosity.

Back in the room, I said to Jimmy. "OK, Jimmy, we need some ground rules. Tim's first rule of sex is, 'Talk first, act second.' Thus this spelling out of our ground rules. Second, Tim's first rule of athletics is that success requires love and support. That's why people have come to St. Louis with you. But I'm the point man, sharing a room with you. If you'll let me, I'd like to share a bed with you, to hold you and hug you. I always sleep nude, and I'd encourage you to do the same. We can oogle, we'll cuddle, we can play a little, but if you want an orgasm, it's strictly do-it-yourself. You won't embarrass me, and I may have the same urge; I hope it won't embarrass you. The athletes in the group are divided on whether sex the day before is good or bad for athletic performance. Hal, at least, insists that abstaining the day before provides a little sexual tension, and that that's good for performance. You can make your own decision. Are you comfortable with all that?"

"My God, I've never known anyone who could talk so openly and easily about sex."

"The inability to talk about sex is rampant in our culture. Tim, Charlie, Hal, Fred, and the others don't have that hang-up, and certainly wish the world didn't."

"It took all my courage to tell you I was gay. Now we're talking about sex in a way that I never have with anybody."

"Your parents?"

"Certainly not my parents."

"Do they know you're gay?"

"Yes. I told them my senior year of high school."

"How did they take it?"

"Hard. I only have a sister. No carrying on of the name; all that. But they were OK. They've been supportive; haven't tried to get me to change. I think they understand that's hopeless. So I'd describe them as disappointed but supportive."

"That's a lot better than some."

"I know. I've seen some really tragic cases."

"Back to us, this room, and our nights together."

"OK. Yes, I think you've done a good job of laying out the ground rules, and I can only say that a lot more's going to happen than I ever dreamed, and I think I'm with you that I wouldn't want more than that to happen."

"Good. Now, I want to oogle. Do a little strip tease for me."

He did. He did have a lovely body. He was dark and hairy, with a long slender dick that some man was going to love having shoved up his ass. If Hal had legs of steel, Jimmy had arms of steel, from long hours of practice with a bow strong enough to be accurate at the length of a football field. He didn't get hard until I got up and took his dick in my hand and squeezed a little. As it rose in salute I saw immediately why he hadn't been able to hide his hard-on before dinner. I think he was longer than Phil. Not as big, but probably longer. It occurred to me that it might be fun to get the two of them side by side!

He stepped back, clearly ready for me to entertain him. I had no prior experience doing a complete strip tease, but in many a locker room people had watched my pants come off to expose my long legs. Hal had been wrong about the difference in the length of our legs. He'd guessed four inches, thinking that about half the eight-inch height difference would be in the legs. But I have a short trunk and very long legs. My legs are more than six inches longer than Hal's. But in locker rooms after everyone had oogled my legs I would turn and face my locker to take off my briefs and put on my jock. Now I didn't turn, but pulled my briefs down slowly, while I wiggled a little from side to side. Jimmy didn't touch me, but watched intently. I suggested we shower, and that's where we headed. The room had a wonderful shower stall that we could both fit into. I washed him all over, not avoiding nor fussing over his dick and balls. He did the same for me. We dried ourselves, and then headed for bed. I lay on my back, naked and hard, and let Jimmy lay beside me and gently feel my genitals. He explored rather than teased, and it felt good. It wouldn't, and didn't, lead to an orgasm. I did the same to him. Handling that length of an organ I think aroused me, the handler, more than Jimmy, the handlee.

He finally spoke, "I don't have any choice. I'm going to take you at your word that you won't mind if I jack off." He didn't wait for an answer, but started stroking himself. He soon was in an almost trancelike state as he pumped faster and faster. When he shot, he hit his face. He licked what he could with his tongue, but didn't otherwise move. I got a wet washrag from the bathroom and wiped him off, from dick to nose. He looked at me, smiled, and said, "Thank you, Jody. I really do mean it, thank you."

I couldn't have slept without taking care of my own needs. He watched intently, and then performed the same ablutions on me as I had on him. He gently kissed the head of my dick, and then cuddled up to me. I pulled a sheet over us and we slept like babies.

The next day I went with him to Heman Park and watched him practice. I also got quite a bit of my book read!

That night, and until the Trials were over, we cuddled as we went to sleep but had no sexual contact at all. Well, we oogled. Does that count?

I don't know where Tim and Charlie were on Monday, but on Tuesday they showed up at the practice range in Heman Park. One of the officials recognized Charlie right off. He came up and said, "It's Charlie: gold in Mexico and silver in Germany. You're not competing today, are you?"

Charlie said, "No, I hung up my bow after Munich. It's still hanging on the wall. I'm here with Jimmy Keelson over there from my club in Grand Forks. I'm surprised to be recognized."

"I competed in the Trials for Mexico City, but didn't make it. But I went as a spectator. That's pretty expensive, so I got a job as scorer in the Trials for Munich, and then went to Munich as a team assistant. I remember you well."

"I wish I could honestly say that I remember you, but I don't."

"Not to worry. There was only one gold medalist; you're easy to remember."

Jimmy did well in his practice sessions, and was ready to take on the world on Wednesday morning. His scores were now more consistent than mine had ever been. He was consistently shooting at least 1290 on the standard FITA round, and could generally count on beating 1300. The Trials consisted of two FITA rounds, which is what the Olympics had consisted of until this Olympiad. For his double round Jimmy got a 2596-way better than my old record-and took the second position on the team. The first position was taken by a young man from California with a 2599. The third position went automatically to the reigning World Champion, an American, who wasn't at the Trials.

That night as we were getting ready for bed Jimmy said, "No sex, not even jacking off, since Monday night. You may be right that the sexual tension helped my shooting, but I'm not used to three days without jacking off. I'm not going to make another night. Don't want to."

"Neither do I. Shall we push our rules a little? I'll do you, and you do me."

"You mean that?"

"Yes, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. But are you sure you're comfortable with that?"

"I am, but only if you are."

"I am. Let me take off your clothes."

I don't need to spell it out for you, do I? We stripped each other, jacked each other, and slept tightly entwined. We did it again the next morning. I wondered if I was as straight as I thought I was! Only time would tell.

Next up was the Boston Marathon, which would be run ahead of the Olympic Track and Field Trials. Who would go to Boston? Fred was ready to take the whole Gang. I was a little uncomfortable with that. Hal sensed that I was, in fact, more than a little uncomfortable with that. Hal suggested that only five of us fly to Boston. Hal and Sue, me, and Herb and Phyllis Johnson, Hal's high school running coach and his wife. I'd met Herb and Phyllis the night my parents and I joined the Gang, and Herb had worked with me a little since I'd joined the Gang. Hal had suggested that his company, coaching, and support would be very welcome in Boston. I asked my parents if they were comfortable being left out, and they said they understood that I needed to learn to make my own way in the world.

Hal took care of flight and hotel reservations, and off we went to Boston, three days in advance of the race, so that we could get settled in, walk the route, and have a day to relax (if running five miles before breakfast is relaxing-it is to Hal and was beginning to be with me). I was startled to find that Hal had only booked one room in the motel, a decent, midrange hotel a ways from the race site; the best he could do at the date we decided to run in Boston. We'd have to rent a car to get around Boston and to the race site for the walk and the race. And Sue and the Johnsons would have to shuttle from point to point along the route on race day. I asked Hal if he'd only been able to get one room. "No, I only wanted one room, with two queen beds. That's what I wanted, and I called a number of motels before I got it."

When I got alone with Hal a few minutes in the hotel lobby I said, "Hal, I don't know the Johnson's that well. And how do I fit in with you and Sue?"

"Jody, just let things happen. We're all members of the Gang. We don't have secrets, and we aren't shy about ourselves."

"The Johnsons are old enough to be your parents. At a stretch they could be my grandparents."

"You know that the Gang's comfortable with intergenerational sex?"

"I know that in the abstract. It appears that I'm about to know it in the concrete."

"You're right, buddy. One other thing you should know. Herb and I have never had a sexual relationship. He didn't feel comfortable since our relationship began as high school runner and high school coach. In inviting him for this weekend, I let him know that now that he's retired, the coach-runner thing is bullshit. Our relationship is going to change. Tonight."

"And you want me there?"

"Yes, I do. Very definitely. I think you may gain some insight into the idea of love and support. It can't help but make you a better man, and therefore a better runner."

We headed to our room. When we got there, with suitcases carried in, ice collected, and Coke and a gallon of iced tea carried in, Herb opened the conversation. "Jody, Hal and I have talked about tonight. The next several nights, in fact. Tonight is a night for Hal and me. It's been our destiny, I think, for more than twenty years. You, Jody, are a straight man, you're going to be ministered to by two beautiful women, Phyllis and Sue. Let them love you. Love them, but I am sure that you want your first intercourse to be with the woman you'll eventually love above all others, so no fucking tonight. Now, Jody, we got a glimpse of your lovely, long body in Gangland. We'd all like a better view. Get your clothes off."

I did the sexiest strip tease I could manage. It seemed to be well received. Everyone in the room came over to me and touched, felt, and gently pulled. As he came by, Hal said, "Take the ladies to their bed, strip them, and make love." I did.

Hal and Herb moved to the other bed. I knew Hal very well by that point, and I could tell that he was experiencing some powerful emotions. His hand shook a little as he unzipped Herb's fly, opened his pants and pulled them down. He hardly had the strength to pull down his underwear. Herb let him kiss his penis, and then he moved to strip Hal. Naked, they lay together, embracing and kissing, clearly content.

I was guided by Sue and Phyllis to explore their bodies. They gently pushed my head to first Sue's and then Phyllis' vagina, and my tongue gave them orgasms in turn. As they turned to suck me, I looked over and saw that Hal had Herb's legs over his shoulder and he was fucking him gently, but firmly. Herb looked to be in ecstasy. I joined him quickly as the two women took turns sucking me. We slept cuddled together in the same beds. My God, what a night. And to think that Hal had been willing to share that moment. I knew then that Hal loved me, and would support me forever. I hugged Sue all the tighter, knowing that Hal's love came with her permission.

The next night I slept between Hal and Herb, and not much was considered out-of-bounds. The next night, two nights before the race, and by Hal's rules, the last night for sex before the race, I slept with Hal. As we climbed into bed I asked Hal, "Will you fuck me like you fucked Herb?"

"Of course."

It was, of course, a new experience for me. I couldn't believe how kind and gentle Hal was. Or how much of a thrill it was. Not just the physicality, but the fact that it was Hal, who had become so special for me. Just before he came he took my dick in his hand and brought me to a climax along with him. We fell into each other's arms and slept.

The race. Oh, my what a race. Was I psyched up? Oh, my God, was I? I'd slept the night before in the bed with Hal, just touching him. I awoke the next morning feeling the "sexual tension" which Hal had said would help my running. Considering the results of the race, I'll have to admit that Hal has something going for him with this "sexual tension" business.

Hal had worked with Herb and plotted out the entire race. My job was to stay as close to Hal's heels as I could. I was certain that I could keep up, and that was all that was expected of me. This wasn't a Trials; it wasn't the Olympics where three get medals and the rest are also rans. Anybody in the first twenty could feel very good about themselves in Boston. And for many, just finishing in Boston was a major accomplishment.

The race ran just as I expected. Hal pushed out fast to clear the pack, and then slowed. Most of the other top runners passed us, but that didn't faze Hal. Herb, Phyllis, and Sue spaced themselves along the route, moving ahead after we passed. We were thus able to see time signs about every three or four miles. I don't know why Hal found that to be important. He had a watch, and even without it, he was so good at pacing himself, that the signs simply confirmed that he was on schedule. But those confirmations were important to Hal in a race, and his friends were always willing to oblige.

At mile 14 Hal kicked up the pace. If Hal was kicking into high gear at 14 instead of 17, it meant that he was really going to push this race. I'd known that, of course, but actually feeling it as we ran that 15th mile was exhilarating. At mile 25 Hal and I were running 5th and 6th. I was having no trouble keeping up, and I was speculating with myself whether I had the strength to pass Hal. I didn't try. Our arrangement was that I'd stay right behind him, and that wasn't going to change. But Hal was pushing. I knew that wasn't Hal's normal routine; he was doing this for me. I had to love him all the more. As we passed the 4th place runner, I wanted to grab Hal and kiss him, but if I had we'd have lost three places! Then the 3rd place guy sort of broke down, shaking. He resumed running at a slower pace as Hal and I shot by. I looked ahead and saw two tall, very dark Kenyans loping along on legs longer than mine. I didn't think we'd catch them, and I was right. And right then the finish line flashed by. Hal and I slowed immediately, and he just stood there. Hal was bushed; not his norm. As I walked up he hugged me, saying, "It was quite a race, Jody. But now I think we'd better hold each other up."

Herb, Sue and Phyllis were on us immediately and Herb and Sue got the holding up jobs. It wasn't long before Hal got his wind and the conversation about the race started. There had been a couple of incidents that the leaders had missed-a heart attack and a fight when one runner accused another of deliberately cutting him off. Hal had commented, "Isn't it sad that people would rather fight than race?"

At this point I had no idea of our time. I walked back to the finish line where the times were posted as runners finished. Hal had crossed the line in 2:09:08 and I'd crossed two seconds later. The race had been won by Kenya's Ibrahim Hussein who finished at 2:08:43, one second ahead of Tanzania's Juma Ikangaa. It meant that Hal and I were the two leading Americans, a fact that bode very well for the Olympic Trials!

Next up were the Swimming and Diving Trials, to be held at Ohio University in Miami, Ohio. Willie Carson was determined to make the Olympics as a diver, and Bernie Frederickson was determined to make it in the butterfly. Both were up against formidable opposition: Wille had to compete with Greg Louganis, who had won both diving golds in 1984 and was looking to repeat, and Bernie had to compete, at least in the 100 meters, with Matt Biondi who'd won Olympic gold in 1984 in the freestyle relay, and was predicted to take much more gold at the 1988 games. Biondi was competing in a number of events, so he'd chosen the shorter butterfly distance, because it'd tire him less for other races. Neither Willie nor Bernie seemed intimidated by their big name rivals. However, they didn't expect to beat the big names, and were quite happy to be competing for silver and bronze.

For Fred this was a "Y'all Come" event and most of the Gang came. He chartered a plane and opened the door to all comers. In Miami we took over a whole wing at Holiday Inn. He didn't try to set up any kind of buffet; we were just told to eat in the Inn restaurant and charge it to our room. He also said that he'd be very upset at anyone who didn't accept his hospitality fairly regularly! We tried not to upset Fred.

Knowing the importance the Gang placed on love and support, I wondered how Willie would fit into that paradigm. Tim and the others were certainly not going to engage in any kind of sex with Willie, no matter how much he wanted it, and regardless of whether his parents approved. I knew that from personal experience. At some point Charlie told me of Tim and Willie's adventures about three years before when they slept together. I supposed that would repeat in Miami.

Willie was a man in control in Miami. He struck up a friendship with Greg Louganis, and they spent quite a bit of time together. Willie took Greg out to dinner at least twice-once was at Holiday Inn and the little imp calmly signed the tab for Fred's bill. (We learned later that Fred had specifically told him that he should.) Willie worked with Tim, and sometimes his father, in the practice sessions available before the Trials. Tim pronounced him "ready." Willie pronounced himself as, "Ready as I'll ever be."

The Hassett family, whom he roomed with in Iron River, had come with us. They'd driven over from Iron River to Grand Forks and joined us on the plane. The were reluctant to accept Fred's hospitality, but nobody can refuse Fred very long. He'd assured them of a trip to Korea as well. Willie and Hardie Hassett lived together in Iron River and they shared a room at Holiday Inn in Miami. It completely avoided the issue of Willie pushing for Tim to sleep with him, for which Tim was grateful. There's been a lot of gentle speculation about what went on in their room at night. Somebody did finally ask Willie and got, "That's for me to know, and you to find out." Willie could act as old as Greg Louganis or as young as his brother Bob, depending on his mood!

On the diving board he was second only to his friend Greg. Number two? We couldn't believe it! It was as if Willie'd been sandbagging us all along, pretending not to be as good as he was. His performance was totally unexpected by his father, Tim, Coach Wilson, and most especially by the very highly ranked American divers that he beat. Age 14. Ninth grade. From an unknown high school. In the UP of all places! He was, of course, overshadowed by Greg, who was generally expected to again take two gold medals. That didn't seem to bother Willie at all.

Except for Greg, Willie wasn't particularly well-liked by the other divers. Well, can you blame them? It isn't that pleasant to be unexpectedly beaten by a little kid, when you were at the top of the NCAA. At one point Willie came to me and asked, "Jody, what do these guys expect of me? I try to act as mature as them, and they resent it. If I act like a little kid they make fun of me."

I said, "Willie, it's very trite, but get used to it being lonely at the top. Just think how you'd feel if you went back to Iron River next fall and found that a little sixth grader from the middle school was diving better than you. How happy would you be? How willing to be friends with the boy?"

"I guess I see," said Willie, and he trotted off to his room with Hardie.

Bernie did very well in his two butterfly races.

And that left the Track and Field Trials at which the three U.S. Olympic marathoners would be selected. There would be no accepting 3rd and 4th place; in fact the ending that I worried about the most was Hal and me heading toward the finish line with two runners ahead of us. I knew that neither Hal nor I would cross the line third with the other excluded from the Olympics. I also knew that Hal was worried about the same thing. And, what is worse, we weren't willing to talk about it. Luckily, the Boston Marathon results had suggested that we had a good chance of both being in the first three. Charlie did talk with Hal and insisted that he ignore me and run his own race if it came down to the dreaded ending. Tim talked to me and said the same thing. I knew that I was going to ignore Tim, and I was pretty sure that Hal was going to ignore Charlie. Neither one of us was going to the Olympics alone. So, that just meant that there could be, at most, one person ahead of us as we approached the finish line.

The race went pretty much the same as the Boston Marathon, except that we didn't have two Africans beating us to the finish line. We did have Pete Pfitzinger from New York and Ed Eyestone from Utah, but born in American Samoa, who gave us the only backsides to try to catch for the last several miles of the race. But there were two, and Hal and I were both thinking that this was our worst possible nightmare. As we came down to the 25th mile marker I could almost feel Hal grit his teeth and tense his muscles. This wasn't the race Hal wanted to run, but I know that he felt just as I did, we could not finish with two runners ahead of us. I felt Hal release a surge of power, and I could just barely keep up with him. As we passed the 26th mile marker with very little distance to go Hal passed Eyestone. Now it was up to me. Hal had done his part by moving ahead, but he knew things were so close that if he'd looked around to see how I was doing, Eyestone would've regained second place. So it was up to me.

With less than 100 yards to go, the finish line in clear sight, I dug into reserves of strength I had no idea I had. I poured every ounce of strength I could possibly muster into my legs, my thankfully very long legs, and I passed Ed Eyestone barely inches before we crossed the line. It wasn't a photo finish; all agreed I'd won, but, my God, it was too close for comfort. I ground to a halt and fell to the ground, not gently, a real fall. I was totally spent. But before I fell into a groggy haze-I guess I really lost consciousness for a while-I knew that I was an Olympian. Tim is right: it is one of the greatest thrills of a lifetime! Thank you, Hal. Thank you, Tim. Thank you, God.

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