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by J J Janicki

The following story involves certain acts which might be illegal to read about if you're not at least eighteen. Depending of course, on exactly where you live. Because after all, in some cases it might be illegal to read about such things even if you're eighty or ninety.

Only if you're that old, you really might not care if it's illegal or not, but even so...

...Well, just use your own judgment on this.

But congratulations as well. Eighty or ninety, and you're still reading stories like this. Way to go!

Are You Scared Yet?

(No, that wasn't a continuation of the disclaimer. That was the title.)
(And this is the story. Starting...)

Chapter 1

My name is Nathaniel Halverson and this is my story.

Once upon a time I lived with my mom and dad in an apartment in the Upper East Side. It wasn't that long ago, although now it seems almost like forever. Try a few million years. My dad was an ultra-successful Wall Street investment manager.

And that should explain "once upon a time". Don't ask me how he cooked the books: the intricacies are far beyond me, and to be honest I had no interest in ever following in his footsteps. His life seemed so boring, so pointless, so devoid of any real meaning, so...

Well, I suppose I did enjoy the amenities, but I took them for granted because I'd never known anything else. Not until I walked into our apartment early one Tuesday afternoon and was greeted by my mom along with six federal agents. Or at least that's how many we had inside at the time. They seemed to be very busy and it appeared my mom was auditioning for a leading role in a Greek tragedy. Only apparently she hadn't decided what her role was to be yet.

And for that matter, I had no idea what mine was to be, either, I just hoped the feds didn't decide to take my computer for evidence. They weren't likely to find any records of my dad's financial dealings, but there were some other files. Quite a few "other files" in fact. Sensitive files. As in probably illegal. They wouldn't have been illegal if I'd been eighteen - except possibly in the case of a few questionable ones - but since I'd just turned thirteen... I suppose they were.

Only this story isn't about what happened to be on my computer that day, the only reason I'm mentioning it at all is because that was the first thing to cross my mind. Almost immediately I knew what was going down, because even if I'd never been interested in my dad's line of work, I still read the newspapers.

And so I knew that our life-style - my life-style - was going to change quite a bit. Exeter Academy was probably out of the question now. I might even find myself in a public school. Ye gads!

But yes, almost at once I'd accepted the fact that a downgrade was likely, and in a way I was almost looking forward to a more Bohemian lifestyle. Mostly because I didn't know any better, but never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd end up in North Dakota.

Well, I did. Because, number one: my dad fled the country. I mean, we're talking some serious financial wizardry. Last I heard, they were still looking for him. Number two: my mom took her Greek tragedy down to her parents in Florida where she's still in seclusion. Number three: my mom's parents weren't particularly fond of me and the feeling was mutual. So number four: that left my grandparents on my dad's side, in Hill County, North Dakota.

I looked it up. The Upper East Side has a population density of 118, 184 people per square mile. Hill County has a population density of roughly one half of one person per square mile. That's quite a change. 722 people scattered over 1417.6 square miles. Only they're down a bit more by now. I would imagine so, because near as I can tell, I was the first new arrival this year!

But actually, I'm about to get ahead of myself.

So where to start, where to start...

Oh, I know! I'll throw in another disclaimer!

All names have been made up to protect the innocent, (and the guilty), and even though there aren't many people living in Hill County, they're not in this story.

Well, they are - or at least some of them are - but it's still better if they remain anonymous, so don't go bothering them, all right?

So anyway, first I was at my grandparents' (mom's side) in Orlando, Florida - which was quite a change from the Upper East Side and took some getting used to - then not long afterwards, I was at my grandparents' (dad's side) somewhere in North Dakota. So that took "getting used to" off to an entirely different level.

But I would like to make one point before getting on with the next chapter of my life: just because my dad thought he was too high and mighty to ever bother visiting back home, to hardly bother with more than an occasional Christmas card - which was always about him and not them - and just because he couldn't get away from Hill County fast enough - oh, he just couldn't wait - I really don't think they should hold that against me, you know?

Although I certainly could see why he wanted to leave and I couldn't see any reason for ever coming back.

But at any rate, bright and early the next morning, I threw myself wholeheartedly into my new life as a slave on my grandfather's farm.

So okay, I was less than enthusiastic about it. I was from the Upper East Side of New York and I didn't know the first thing about being a wheat farmer. What does wheat do? It grows. Then what? You cut it down. Then what? I have no idea. That's all I knew about it, and no offense, but I didn't want to know any more.

Only that first day on the farm I wasn't put to work doing stuff with wheat: no, I was helping one of the hired hands shovel compost out of the dairy barn. Not that it matters, but I think his name was Olaf or something. But I was trying to be a good worker. I'm telling this story, so I think I'll go with my version and not my grandfather's. So at any rate, I worked hard for several hours or possibly for not quite that many when all at once, without any warning, I suffered a heat stroke. Or maybe it was only heat prostration, but whatever, I was feeling very light-headed and...

And so the following day I was off to start the next chapter of my life in North Dakota. (Fortunately, this day happened to be a Sunday, which is the one day they're not busily doing stuff to wheat and shoveling cow shit.) And so once again I packed my things together and I was off to my cousin John's in Oxmar. So at least he lived in a town and with any luck there might even be a convenience store in the vicinity. Oxmar is the largest town in Hill County, so you'd figure there ought to be something there aside from my cousin's auto repair place. (It isn't actually a business, but if you need something fixed, John will give it a shot soon as he can get around to it.) (And also, since the population of Oxmar is in the neighborhood of 140, it should come as no great big surprise to learn that business was slow and there wasn't a convenience store.)

Cousin John has been known to drink a bit - which is why his wife left him - and that's what he was doing when we pulled into his driveway that Sunday morning: he was sitting on the front porch with a tall Bud. At least they were expecting me though, (they do have telephones and electricity out there), so after taking my belongings upstairs to the room I'd be sharing with his son Carlie (who was about the same age I was and wasn't worth much either...)

Well, actually, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do after that, but after awhile I came back downstairs and my grandfather had already left. So that was one good thing, and I was standing there looking uncertain trying to think of something to say to my cousin when he said, "Carlie's out back working on his car. You oughta see it, it's gonna be something else once he's finished with it, so why don't you go on back and introduce yourself?"

Well, if I was going to be staying in the same room with him, I guessed that might be a good idea, so I made my way back to the garage trying to think of all the car talk I knew. Only that wasn't very much. I knew how to call a taxi, but it didn't go much beyond that, so for example when Carlie proudly told me the car he was working on was a '64 Plymouth Hemi Belvedere, it didn't set off any alarm bells.

And so I walked into the garage and there he was under that car, cussing away. "You damn son of a bitch, get your sorry ass loose! Shit!"

I didn't see much of him at first: all I could see was his legs sticking out from under the car. I could see up to his grimy white soccer shorts with blue stripes and if nothing else, I could see that apparently he wasn't much further along in the changes department than I was.

Or at least he hadn't started growing hair on his legs. Mind you, I have nothing against eventually having some on mine, but the way I looked at it, I'd feel less awkward about my having just barely gotten started with those changes if my cousin hadn't already started shaving. If you got down to it, I still looked like a little boy, although at least I'd started growing some hair above my dick. Not a lot, but at least some. My balls had dropped - that's always a good sign - but as for my dick... well, it still had a ways to go. Or at least I sure hoped it did, so, right, I had nothing against changing, I was just hoping my cousin hadn't run off and left me, that's all.

Speaking of which, I guessed maybe I should try to introduce myself and not stand there just staring at his legs. So I cleared my throat and said, "Um, your father said I'd find you back here... and um... well, I'm Nathaniel and um..."

Then thankfully he wheeled himself out from under the car. Because you know, he was on one of those thingies that roll back and forth that come in handy when you trying to get something loose underneath a car. So he wheeled himself out, took a look at me and said, "So you're Nathaniel, huh?"

So I said yes I was and then I stammered out something which I've forgotten, although I'm fairly sure it was to the effect that I hoped he didn't mind me barging in on them like I was and if I'd ever gotten through that part - and assuming, of course, that he then said something to the effect that I wasn't a big bother - I was hoping to add that I was sort of tired of being bounced from one relative over to the next and that I hoped he didn't hold it against me just because my dad had run off with several million dollars that didn't belong to him... and I'll be damned if I haven't lost control of another sentence.

So I'll just start another one, then.

So I was trying to explain that I was really a fairly decent fellow when Carlie grinned and said, "Hey, don't worry about it. Not many boys around my age in this God-forsaken town anyway, so I'm glad you're here! I'm almost finished, so... I'll be back out in a just a jiffy, all right?" and with that, most of him disappeared under the car again and I felt better about things.

Well, I felt a lot better, because I could tell that once he got all that grease cleaned off I wasn't going to mind sharing the same room with him. I didn't know if I was going to end up in a sleeping bag on the floor, but still, I was sure I'd be seeing more of him, and I was looking forward to it. He was about five inches taller than I was (around 5'-6''), slender (if I'd put him into the not-so-pleasing category, I would have said skinny), had red hair - cut fairly short - and a face full of freckles. And that was a revelation to me, because prior to then, freckles weren't on my list of highly desirable attributes. But a pale complexion, blue eyes, and being kind of tall and slender always had been on my list, along with a nice grin. All those along with him being a boy were very good attributes to have.

I'd known that I would probably turn out gay from the time I was eleven. Openly gay couples aren't all that uncommon in New York and it never seemed to bother my parents any. So okay, I knew I liked seeing some of my friends naked and then I had a really good friend Stephan and we'd sort of felt each other off once. Nothing really major, but I think we were getting fairly close.

Well, at least close to something. I was almost sure of it.

But I also have a cousin - Sean - who lives in Connecticut. He's two years older. So the summer before (when I was twelve) I faked him out big time. One day he asked me if I knew about jerking off. Well, I did - I mean, duh - but I said I didn't and he showed me how. I put on a really good act. I was acting like it was the greatest thing that had ever happened! And in a way it was, because I got to watch him doing it and then it got even better when he said it felt better if we did it to each other!

And he sure was right about that. It was fun.

Then not long after starting the seventh grade, I found some really good story sites. You know, stories about boys around my age falling in love with other boys about my age and then doing some or all of the things you might normally fantasize about doing. So I was like, oh my God. Some of those stories really are interesting. But...

I guess I should be getting back to my cousin Carlie.

"Oh, damn it!" (So that's him again.) "This ain't gonna work either. Hey, Nathaniel, see if you can find a three-quarter inch wrench and hand it to me, all right?"

Only I knew as much about three-quarter inch wrenches as I knew about milking cows. "Um, I don't know all that much about working on cars, " I stammered.

"Well, just look for one that has three-quarters on it."

"Oh." Fortunately, I did know what a wrench was - or at least I guessed I did, and... "Oh, okay, I found one.... I think."

"If it says three-quarters, it is."

And would you believe it, it was. And then it happened. Another OMG moment. Just a few seconds after I carefully handed the wrench to him - trying not to get too dirty and not to pay attention to how close together we were, I was straightening up when I glanced down and... "Holy Mother of God! He's not wearing underwear!"

So of course that caused some excitement and I was glad he was still under the car. Only as he sweated and groaned and cussed at that stubborn bolt, I suppose he was putting everything he had into it and wasn't mindful of his legs being sometimes splayed wide apart, which of course caused even more excitement on my part.

It wasn't bad at all. Almost adult-sized, but not particularly hairy except for a red bush. Accessorized with a very nice set of balls, and he was also uncut, which I thought was an exceptionally good attribute. Being uncut was at the top of my list. I'd heard that you could do so much more with them. But really, I'll never forget it. For at least two minutes he was squirming and huffing and puffing and it was all moving around and I was thinking, "I think I'm really going to like it here." I definitely was going to learn all I could about wrenches. Because you know how it is, you take the thrills that are available. And due to the fact that I wasn't without at least a little prior experience, when he finally rolled out from under, I was able to act like I hadn't seen a thing. Or if I had, I wasn't interested in it. Although I was thankful that mine only went to about four inches, because at least it didn't show quite as much as it would've otherwise.

And I'm relatively sure Carlie didn't notice right then that I'd pitched a small tent. No, he cheerfully went back to the sink, washed his hands, dabbed a little water on his face, then he turned to me and asked, "So you want to take 'er for a spin? Just a short test run, 'cause I'm sure it still needs some more fine-tuning, but let's see what she'll do, all right?"

Now, I knew Carlie was only fourteen (I asked on the way down) so I was certainly assuming that he didn't have his driver's license, and based on that assumption I was also thinking about the only driving he'd be doing was up and down their driveway and I'd gone that route with Sean once.

So I wasn't too enthusiastic, because I guessed once again we were about spend an hour or so creeping up and down their driveway, and that's boring. Like with Sean, well, he'd slowly back up, then he'd go forward, then he'd back up again, then he'd go forward again... until I was about to go out of my mind - and the only reason I didn't get out was because of all that playing around we were up to, but (and this is where it starts getting weird) he said we couldn't do any of that while he was practicing driving. It was distracting, he said. At two miles an hour? Oh, and we both had to buckle up, when he never got over two miles an hour, and the MP3 player was distracting... and we haven't even reached the weirdest part yet. See, it was going to be a year and a half before he could even get his learner's permit.

But still, I guessed since I'd just met Carlie, I should go along with him, because he seemed to be very proud of himself. And at least the motor was rumbling and the car was vibrating. Saabs don't rumble or vibrate or do much of anything exciting - not if Sean's driving - but at any rate, I got in trying to act like I was excited and then Carlie looked over and said, "Well, buckle up."

So of course Ithought, "Oh-my-God. Please, not again. This is going to be so bor—ing..."

But I buckled up. And then he floored it. He explained it once, how the rear end was geared like a Highway Patrol car, but, anyway, he didn't burn rubber all the way down their driveway - there just a little chirp and then it was like we'd been shot out of a cannon. And of course I was slammed back into the seat, so all I could see was the highway coming up on us. Fast. I was thinking, "Shit!We're going right out into the damn highway, oh my Go- "

And sure enough, that's just what we did. Mostly sideways. I was speechless! I was trying to say something, but nothing was coming out. Literally, I was speechless!

But I have to admit one thing: He could drive! Obviously he was excited, but he had it straightened out soon enough. He spun the wheel to the left for all he was worth, then back real quick to the right, then all at once we were pointed in the right direction and flying!

Only I was still thinking, "Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph!We're out on the highway !"

So it took some getting used to. But the highway was mostly straight, there was no traffic and Carlie could drive like a mutherfucker. So after my initial shock I calmed down. Because, after all, I'd been on some pretty wild roller coasters, so until he got pulled over I guessed I might as well enjoy the ride. I thought it was exhilarating. Because, really, if he got pulled over, it was his problem and not mine.

Unless they ended up throwing his butt in juvenile, then that would be a problem, because I was beginning to feel attached to him, and if things worked out the way I hoped we'd probably be sharing the same bed (there was only one in his room) and if he wasn't wearing underwear right then, it was entirely possible that he'd sleep I sure didn't want him to get arrested. Not really. Obviously I'd be playing it by ear, but it's like I said earlier, you take all the thrills that are available and us sleeping naked in the same bed sure was something to look forward to. I thought that would be awfully thrilling.

But in any event, we hauled ass down highway 12 until we reached a mile marker, and on the way we only passed one tractor. PHOOMPTH! Once past the marker, he seemed satisfied, slowed down, turned around and we returned to the garage almost sedately. He looked over at me. "So what do you think?"

"Um... Well, I hope you didn't blow that tractor off the road back there."

He sniggered. "Oh, that was just Hubert. He's used to it by now."

"You're kidding."

"Well, guess I haven't ever passed him quite that fast before, but still..."

So that brought up another question. "So... how fast were we going then?"

"If my math's right, we clocked out at 156. So that means I still got some more fine-tuning."

"One-fifty... Jesus! And you think... well, damn! What happens if you pass a cop? Then what?"

"Hardly ever see the law out here.... Did I scare you?"

"Well, if you want the truth, at first you almost scared the shit out of me because I didn't know what was going on. But once I figured out that you knew what you were doing... mostly...well, then I was just worried about you getting your butt thrown in jail. Because... well, you don't even have a license yet, so-"

"Damn! You're right! I left it at home!"

"You got a license? "

"Well..." (he started snickering)... "Yes and no, actually."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"In North Dakota you can get your license when you're fourteen. Only that's just to operate a farmvehicle. And it says you're supposed to be transporting agricultural equipment or supplies. So I don't guess this really counts, huh?"

"Not unless you want to get your supplies some place very, very fast.... But what if you pass a cop? Then what?"

"Well, then they got to catch me. But you're probably right. Because to tell you the truth, this car ain't even street legal. I don't know if it would be on the Autobahn. That's in Germany, you know. Where there aren't any speed limits. Except I heard that they might pull you over for going too slow.... But if it'll make you feel any better, from now on we'll just drive it at night on back roads. You never see the law out there because there's no point in it, especially not at night. So that all right?"

I especially liked the "we" part, which is why I overlooked the part about how he thought with a little more fine-tuning it could go even faster, the part about how if he ever did see a cop, they still had to catch him and the part about only driving on back roads at night.

Although when he first mentioned driving on the back roads I didn't think too much about it because what I had no way of knowing was that almost all those roads are unpaved. You got your gravel roads and you got your plain old dirt roads and that's about it. Only I didn't know that then. And when I found out...

"Oh my God, I'm gonna die."

Only I'm getting ahead of myself again.

So okay, up until then, things looked promising. We went back to their place, he tinkered around awhile longer, then we went up to his room. "Guess we need to get cleaned up before we get something to eat. Or at least I know I sure need a shower. So just make yourself at home and I won't be long, all right?"

He was pulling off his tee shirt right about then. So of course my heart was going thumpety-thumpety and while I'd latched onto that "we" again, I was also a little relieved when I learned that apparently he wasn't expecting us to take a shower together. Not that I had anything against it - all things being equal - but still going on the assumption that I was the only gay in Hill County, I didn't want to give it away before we even slept in the same bed together. And of course I knew exactly what was going to happen if I got into the shower with him: I was going to pop one. "Going to?" I already had!

You're damn right I had, because then he kicked his tennis shoes off (he wasn't wearing socks), shucked his shorts down (that did it all right), then completely nude he walked over to his dresser drawers and pulled out a pair of blue sweat pants and a clean shirt. With his back to me, (What a beautiful white ass he has! Oh my God...), he remarked, "I guess I should put on long pants if we're going to the restaurant. Thing is, I don't mess with underwear in the summer. No big deal. We're not all that civilized around here. But anyway... yeah, I guess at least for now long pants would be better, " and with that he turned, (Oh! There it is again! It is nice!), grinned, and strolled out and down the hall.

So I was sitting on the side of his bed trying to let all that sink in. "Not civilized, huh? Day or two, maybe I'll just get uncivilized myself, then."

And then there was: "You know, I think this is going to be an interesting summer after all." (It was then almost July.)

Really, because the other thing that was going through my mind was something like: "Nathaniel me boy, I think we're picking up a signal here."

But then later on that night, we hit the back roads. And, God, did I ever wish I was in bed right about then. Because for starters I was thinking how I really wished we could have spent one night together before we both got killed.

It was a dirt road. So at least that much made sense, because if he'd been on a gravel road it would have messed the paint job up pretty bad. Gravel flying all over the place. But we were on a dirt road without a soul in sight. And much more often than not, without a house in sight. And the thing was, seeing a house would have been comforting right then. Assuming that when we went flying off the road and ended up in the middle of a field upside down, we were still going to be close enough to that house so that someone would hear the crash, of course. I was pretty sure the next curve was going to get us. Do you know what a power slide is? Basically, you're going through the curve sideways. Do you know what it feels like to go airborne? Just briefly, I mean. He'd top a little hill and "Ohhh Shi -" KA-WHAM! Like I said, just briefly.

Although at least we weren't topping 150. Too many curves. Not sharp curves - thank God - but still, not something you want to be going 150 into. Or for that matter, 80 or 90. That's what we were usually doing, but Jesus Christ!

And then he looked over at me and he asked, "Are you scared yet?"

Oh, I was all right. I was almost scared shitless. (And while that's still a figure of speech, it also wasn't entirely out of the question.) But maybe, just maybe, I didn't know myself as well as I thought I did, because in spite of everything, in spite of the fact that all in the world I wanted was for that ride to be over, I still didn't want to admit it, I didn't want to give in. "No, I'm not scared. See if you can go a little faster, why don'tcha? I know! Let's be airborne when we hit the next curve, that'll work good! Whee!"

But I didn't say that. I just gritted my teeth and thought about saying a few Hail Marys. And I shrugged. Tried to look nonchalant. I kid you not.

But then he switched the lights off. He left his parking lights on, but that's all. And that just about didit.

"So now are you scared?"

So I guessed a different approach was in order. "Yes, I'm scared. I'm so scared, I'm about to wet your seat. And I think I will if you don't slow down and turn your lights on again."

"If you do that, then I guess that means you're going to wet your pants too, now, aren't you?" He wasn't slowing down.

"Well, I'll just take 'em off and piss all over everything, then!" I didn't really mean that, but I was clutching at straws because he wasn't slowing down any and I could just barely see the road.

"Go ahead, then. Take your shorts off, take off everything, and I'll slow down. Shit, I'll even stop."

I really am a horny little bastard, there's no denying it. And I also have a strong sense of self-preservation, so that certainly played into things, but still...

"Well, slow down and I will then. As long as you drive a little slower going back. Just a little.... So is that all right?"

"Yeah, okay, as long as you take off everything and throw it into the back seat." He was slowing down some, but we were still going awfully fast.

And... well, my hands were shaking. I was still concerned about not making it through the next curve or the one after that. But still, I could feel myself getting hard. I guess if you gotta go, you might was well get as much out of it as possible. Apparently, a very important part of me was thinking in those terms. Quickly - no time to waste here - I grabbed at the waist of my shorts and at my boxers underneath and after a bit of hurried squirming about, I was naked from the waist down. And it kept rising. It wasn't one of those instant hard-ons, but it was inexorably on its way. I was fumbling with my shirt, but I glanced over at Carlie's lap and noticed that not only was he insane, he also was just as horny as I was. Or maybe even more so, because it was a big tent. Or at least it was bigger than mine would have been.Hmmm.

"Shit. I gotta get this shirt off. So fuck the seat belt."So as my shirt was clearing my head I said, "Yeah, well, I think you better stop, because I got to pee. Big time!"

And so, dirt flying, we lurched to a stop, right in the middle of the road. Then I shoved my door open and threw up. Well, all right, I didn't do that, but I'm surprised it didn't happen. But, no: shaking all over, I carefully opened the door, took a deep breath and let 'er rip, boner or no boner. Because I wasn't kidding about needing to pee. Then I got back in, closed the door and sighed. And I noticed that Carlie's tent hadn't gone down any and mine was pointed up at the roof. Still a bit on the skinny side - well okay, a lot, but no matter, it seemed to ready to go.

Carlie glanced down at my lap, which I thought was a very good signal as well. He giggled and said, "It's really nice out here, isn't it? So quiet, so peaceful..."

Compared to the way things had been before we stopped, I think Lower Manhattan would have seemed quiet and peaceful, but I swallowed hard and said, "Well, yeah.... But..."

Carlie cleared his throat. "But anyway, I guess it's time for us to roll again. Buckle up." VA-ROOM! Not much warning on that deal, nope, all at once, we were off to the races again. So much for peace and quiet. Shit!

I mean, when we were sitting there and he was talking about how peaceful it was, I was thinking in terms of, "Yes!"Because number one: We were stopped, and number two: I was pretty sure we were going to start doing some stuff like me and Sean did. I was almost positive about it, even if I didn't know what. Although I was fairly sure I'd at least get to see his boner. Maybe we were going to jerk each other off. And that would have been great, but maybe we'd even end up doing some of that OMG stuff I'd read about in those stories and as long as he went first, I was looking forward to that as well - except I guess for fucking, because the way I understood it, it could be awesome, but you still didn't want to jump into it right away. For a lot of reasons, you didn't - but anyway, there I sat with a hard-on, giddy with anticipation, when all at once: VA-ROOM!

So no, that wasn't on my list of fun things to do and I was a bit let down.

I was pretty upset, in fact.

And I was also pinned to the back of the seat again, and he didn't give me time to buckle up - and I was about to mention that - but I was also about to say, "Well, damn it, I will" (buckle up) "soon as I get my clothes back on!"- only then he went sliding into another curve and for a second, I thought I was going right out my side window.

So I got my seat belt on as fast as I possibly could. It was hard for me not to keep thinking about my clothes, but they were in the back seat and to get them, not only would I have to unfasten my seat belt again, I'd also have to get on the console between the seats and reach back for them... and that wasn't going to happen unless he slowed down. Speaking of which...

"I thought you said you were going to drive slower!" I yelled.

"Well, I am!" he yelled back.

"You are not! "

"I'm not getting over- Whoa! " (airborne again) KA-WHOMP!!"... Yes!... I'm not getting over seventy, damn it!"

So okay. By then I'd completely forgotten about us doing fun things to each other. I hadn't forgotten about my clothes, but until he slowed down or ran out of gas or something , they were in the back seat and that was where they were going to stay. So I was up in the front seat naked. The part about being naked kept flashing in and out between power slides and going airborne again. Or worrying about us reallyand truly going airborne or seeing another curve coming up and bracing myself and trying to tell myself that no matter how bad it looked, we were going make it through that one, too.

Oh, and I kept worrying about seeing a cop. Fact is, just like he said, we didn't see a single car - much less a patrol car - but I still kept thinking about what would happen if we did. In between worrying about the next slide or just how long we were going to be airborne. Seriously. You might only be off the ground for a second, but somehow, it always seemed to be a lot longer. But in between all that, I kept worrying about the cops. Maybe one of those houses we went by, Olaf would wake up and he'd exclaim, "Good Lord! Gertie, call the cops right now! " So we'd come sliding out of a curve and all at once, "Oh shit! Cops!"

Well, it could have happened. Because after all, he'd obviously done this before, so finally somebody complained, so this time, they were going to be waiting. Just my luck. If you think for one minute that somebody who's breaking God only knows how many traffic laws, not to mention disturbing the peace and terroristic activities and kidnapping and curfew breaking and not wearing his underwear and endangering wildlife including whatever kind of protected species that might have been near that road - because believe me, if something was near it, then that something was endangered all to fucking hell - if you think that that person isn't going to attract somebody's attention sooner or later, then you just try telling yourself that when you're strapped into the front seat and you're naked, all right?

So fine. Once we reached that all-at-once-inevitable "Cops!", then what? Say he stops. Not good. "Don't shine your light in here until I get my clothes on, officer!" I don't think so. If we got stopped, then I was fucked and that was all there was to it.

But say he doesn't stop. Because after all, he did mention that possibility and based on what was going on right at that moment - "Here comes a good one! Whoo- " KA-WHAM! - if he said he was going to do something, then he was, because he was totally insane. So he doesn't stop, he goes faster! A really comforting thought.

So it really took some getting used to. I'm not sure how long we were flying around the countryside like that, but it seemed like an eternity. After awhile though, I just went fatalistic on him. The hell with it. "If we crash, we crash."

Well, would you believe catatonic?

Me, I might have accepted the catatonic diagnosis, but then something else came up. Or maybe it never went down in the first place, but I find that a little difficult to believe. I know I was hard at first, but then I lost track of it because I had some other things on my mind, but immediately after another ka-whomp, it bounced. My dick did. That shouldn't have come as a surprise, because it was unfettered, so it could bounce as much as it wanted to, but this time I noticed it, and then I squirted. It was only a dribble, but...

I still haven't figured it out. It doesn't make sense. But I glanced down - because I was hoping what I thought had happened really hadn't, only it had. Although at least I wasn't on full-red alert. I would have found that to be a bit disturbing. I mean, discovering that I was semi-hard was bad enough as it was.

Or at least it was until I started thinking about it. Then my dick started going back up again. Only that's probably better than thinking about how you're about to be killed. "Any last words?" Squirt.

But it just kept going up until it was right back where it started from. So I was thinking, "All right, next time this happens, I'll just start jerking off!" Next time?

I think we're both disturbed, because I glanced over at Carlie and he still had a tent too. I swear to God. Although at least he was slowing down by then. It turned out, we were coming up on highway 12 and the ride was almost over. Once on the highway, I guess even Sean wouldn't have been bothered by Carlie's driving and I was thinking to myself, "Damn! He really is a good driver!"

So once we were motoring back into Oxmar, I was going to retrieve my clothes from the back seat, only I didn't see them. But I was feeling better by then, so I said, "I really hate bringing this up, but you remember my clothes? Well, they're gone."

"We'll look for them tomorrow morning. Well, it already is tomorrow morning if you want to get technical" - (it was a little after one) - "but after we get up, we'll look for them, okay?" (Turned out they were under the seat. I wonder how that happened?)

But, anyway, I said, "Right. So I'm just going to walk into your house naked. I don't think so."

"Well, why not? You'll set a new record for going naked. And anyway, by now my dad's dead to the world. Nothing short of a tornado is going to wake him up."

"Well, if that's the way it is, then why don't you go in naked?"

"You want me to? No big deal.... And I got a boner too, but it doesn't bother me none."

"Well, duh! You think I don't?"

And so we did, giggling like crazy. Although I was a little too nervous to really check him out close - I could see it bouncing, but that was about all, and he got upstairs first and dived into bed - but still...

It was fun. Or at least once driving around on those back roads was over, it was. It's like the first time I was on El Toro at Six Flags. It's a roller coaster.

I mean, I was shaking all over before I was strapped in. Or as Tyler the coaster freak put it, stapled, because the restraint was so tight, it almost cut off my circulation. Not to mention a good deal of my ability to breathe, but at any rate, it was too late to back out, so up we went, then... down! Straight down. I looked it up later, and that first drop was 176 feet at a 78 degree angle, so that's close enough to straightdown for me. And to think, it had only just started. So I'm surprised I didn't wet myself, but once it was over I was like, "Damn! That was fun!"

Off hand, I can think of three reasons for saying that, though. One: It was overat last and I was still alive. It's always a relief when you think you're going to die and you don't after all. Two: All my friends were acting like it was the greatest thing ever - most of them - so I didn't want to look like a wimp - which is why I got on it in the first place - and three: It really was fun. Although it still took getting used to.

We didn't do anything once we were in bed, we were just in bed naked, but the way I was looking at it...

Well, first I'd feel good. Only then I'd think about his driving. Then I'd think, "But he's a good driver! Boy, I wish my friends could have seen it!" and then I'd think, "But you know, I don't think him getting a hard-on just because he's about to kill both of us is a very good sign, " and then I'd think, "Yeah, that's a good point, " and then I'd listen to him breathing softly beside me and I'd think, "But I really do like this."

I only touched his ass once.

Well, all right, a few times, then, but eventually I went to sleep.

Thanks for reading my story and I hope that you enjoyed this first chapter. I realize that's an obvious thing for me to say because up till now, I haven't ever posted a story in hopes of its not being enjoyed, but still...

Thanks anyway.

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