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Chapter Three

By Paul Schroder

Pheew... can you believe that? What's up with Michael? Wiggling his wee willy at Jeremy. Does he want to play hide the salami with his bud? (Hide the cocktail wiener would be more like it). Let's listen in as Michael picks up the narration...

Did I just hear what I thought I heard? Did Jer just tell me he'd like to play with my semen pen? Yea... right. I might have perv thoughts like that but never Jeremy! I've never heard him say one thing about sex as long as I've known him. But I sure as hell heard it now! Come on Jer; where's the rest of the joke? He delights in embarrassing me and this just has to be one more trick. Only... if it's a trick, why is he just standing there staring at me? He has an expression on his face like he'd just seen his mother naked: pure shock on his features.

You know what? This is no joke. He doesn't have a funny punch line. He just let something slip out of his mouth that he probably wishes he could suck right back in! He said he wished he could play with my dick...and HE MEANT IT!

"Oh... my..." and I couldn't finish the sentence.

Jeremy's expression has gone from shocked to frightened. I'm sure I can see his eyes tearing up. And now he's just quickly turned around so as not to have to face me. He droops his head and put his hands up to his temples.

Oh God, he is so embarrassed... so ashamed. I want to run up and hug him, wrap my arms around him... but wouldn't that embarrass him too? What can I do to relieve his tension? And then it hit me! I'll do something he would never, ever expect from me. I'll do to him what he'd done to me... I'll STRIP!

Now - you need to understand something right now. You probably don't know this, but I am a bit shy when it comes to showing certain of my body parts. I was probably the youngest child in history to learn to wipe his own butt and to bathe himself... just so my mother couldn't see me naked anymore! I think I've managed to hide my shyness pretty well, but that doesn't mean it isn't real. So this just shows you the respect and love that I have for my friend that I am even willing to contemplate what I am about to do. 'Sigh.'

I undo my cutoffs and slide them and my jockeys down to my ankles. 'Oh... God. I can't believe I'm doing this.' Then I push my clothes over my shoes. When I stand back up I am buck naked from waist to ankles! 'I sure hope the hell there isn't an all girl biology class touring this field.'

I am standing there, underwear in one hand, feeling a cool breeze blowing across my you-know-whats. Jeremy has started to move; he looks like he's going to walk away. So I shout at him...


He slowly responds and turns around. He is staring at me with this hang dawg expression that, slowly, reverts to wonderment. Now he has this unbelieving look on his face and his mouth is just kind of hanging open. That's when I start to dance around and mimic what he did up on the rock.

"Somebody help me" I yell, "Jeremy just stripped me and he is going to do unspeakable things to my ANUS", and I wiggle my butt at him. 'Oh, good! His face just lit up like a boy at a circus.'

'Arggg' I just can't take it anymore. I drop down to my butt and start pulling my jockeys on over my shoes. I lay on my back, and then quickly slide my underwear up to cover my unmentionables. I glance up at Jeremy and he is just staring at me with this look of total, happy amazement on his face. Leaning over, I grab my cutoffs and, still sitting on the ground, pull them over my shoes. I hear a sort of giggling now. Using my shoulders, I arch my butt off the ground and jerk my pants the rest of the way up. The giggling has changed to full throated laughter as I am zipping and snapping my fly. I look up to Jeremy and his face is just beaming.

"Har... har, Michael. You just set a world speed record whipping off your pants and undies...then you doubled the record in putting them back on again!" He is slapping his knees. I smil back at him and feel my face flush a bit.

"Well..." I start to say, as I stand up, wiping the grass off my butt,

"...I just don't happen to be a world class exhibitionist like someone I could name."

I am feeling pretty good. Jeremy's faux pax has faded into the background by my clowning around. The tension has been broken and we are free to continue on with our normal bantering.

"Yea, It's true... you're no exhibitionist" he counters. "In fact, I am probably the only person in history, outside your Mom, to even see your naked butt! That is, if the four second exposure could even be called showing your butt."

I am smiling back at him and I counter with...

"Listen buddy. My Mom never saw as much of my butt as you just did. I was probably the only baby in history that learned to change his own diapers to preserve his modesty" I lied.

Michael is wiping tears of enjoyment out of the corners of his eyes as we start gravitating back towards the rock. When we get there we just kind of sit down, side by side. There is a bit of awkward silence then...

"Michael" he says.

"Yea" I answer.

"Michael, what I said back" he started.

"Never mind dude." I reply. "Don't say anything... cuz nothing happened."

There is another moment of silence. We are just kind of looking ahead, not looking at one another. I am twiddling a stem of grass around in my fingers, Jeremy hs his arms folded over his knees.

"We both know what I said Michael. And I guess... by your actions and everything... you don't... hate me for it?" he asks, looking at me.

I glance over at him.

"Don't be a dumb ass. We've been friends since grade school." Then I smile and say..."Why should I care if my best friend is some kind of a perv meister?"

He grins back at me. We only hold eye contact for a second though, and then we are looking forward again. We are a bit embarrassed about this conversation and where it might be leading. At least I am. I am hoping we can just drop the whole thing. But it isn't to be.

"I guess I am some kind of perv meister," he continues; "in fact for the last few months it seems like I have had constant sex thoughts. I don't remember ever thinking about sex before, and now... and now it's like all I ever think about" he tells me, rushing his sentences out.

"But the thing is..." he goes on, "they aren't regular sex thoughts." A few seconds of silence, then..."They aren't about girls" he adds, quietly. "So... you're right, I am some kind of a perv. But I don't know what to do about it. I try... but I can't focus those thoughts on girls like... like I should... I mean I try and try."

He just sort of tapers off. His confession stated, he is content to just sit there and let me absorb it all. By laying it all on the line like this, I guess, he needs to know if I can accept him, baggage and all. And I honestly don't know how to respond to him.

Look, this is my very best friend - ever. There isn't anything in the world that I won't do for him. But the thing is, I don't know if I have it in me to be as honest with him as he is being with me right now. He has outed himself by accident, and now he's willing to bare his soul to me. But I wasn't outed...not yet! And I am far more frightened of my sexual thoughts than he seems to be of his. It is like, now that it's out, he's relieved. But I am maybe even more clammed up than ever. I'm just not ready. How can I just come out and confess to him what I am still trying to hide from myself? So, my reaction was... to have no reaction. I just continue to stare ahead. But I know that some kind of response is expected so... I just lean over and pat him on the shoulder. I hope this is telling him that I heard him, that I understand what he has to say, that I feel his pain and that I am still his friend. I know... I know, it's hypocritical; but still... it's all I'm willing to do right now. I need to do a lot of thinking. I have been having sexual thoughts too. And, there aren't any girls involved in my thoughts either. Shit! And I do mean shit!

Jeremy sighs and then stands up. Looking down at me, he discerns my pensive, introspective look. He says...

"A penny for your thoughts, Mic."

That breaks my reverie, and I look up at him. I decide to go for a little levity.

"You'd probably be overpaying me Jer. I was just thinking - if you used Mr. Conard, our fat math teacher for your wanking fantasy, maybe that would scare you straight!" And I grin at him.

He just shakes his head, a big grin forming on his own face. He replies...

"Careful Mic, I just might end up putting an apple on his desk and winking at him!"

"Arrgghhhh" and I clutch my stomach, falling onto my side.

"No... no, Jer. You aren't supposed to reinforce this. You aren't supposed to put pictures like that into my mind".

His tee-shirt is laying on the rock next to me so I grab it and throw it at him. Jeremy is on a roll now.

"Ah yes, I can see it now. Mr. Conard," I would say, " I have this recurring fantasy about your naked globs of fat undulating and swaying as you play the pan flute and dance for me. I would ask you for a lap dance... if I had a death wish."

"Haar........har.....STOP it Jer! I'm serious! It will take a lobotomy to get that picture out of my head."

He's got me rolling around now. I'm putting my finger in my mouth and making gagging noises. Jer is giggling.

"I think you're just jealous Michael. I'd have some one to make out with and you wouldn't." He makes kissing sounds against his hand..

"We'd go to the movies... share popcorn... our hands would touch... then I would slide onto his lap. Oh... wait a minute... he doesn't have a lap... har, har, har!"

"Oh my God Jer... you're a sadist... stop it!" I'm laughing so hard I'm having trouble catching my breath. I'm visualizing everything he's saying and, believe me, it's not a pretty sight - especially the part where Jer slides off Conard's stomach when trying to sit on his lap!

"Oh my God, Jer. You know what you've done don't you. We are never going to be able to sit in that man's class now with straight faces."

I am looking up at him with this mock serious expression.

"Now Mic," he answers, "you know full well I can't look at anyone with a STRAIGHT face. I'm not straight!" He makes this floppy, limp-wrested wave at me.

I'm laughing without sound now. He has my gut aching. He's definitely enjoying his effect on me as he sits down beside me, dropping his tee-shirt onto my face.

"I don't know about you," he says "but I am certainly ready for that delicious repast, that epicurean delight, you have so graciously prepared for our consumption" and he daintily reaches for my pack.

Oh God, he's still on a roll. I pull his shirt off my face, and lean up on one elbow to watch him. It would take a crowbar to get the grin off my face. He's lisping and making exaggerated feminine movements as he pulls the sandwiches from the pack. He delicately pulls the plastic wrap from one sandwich, his pinky fingers pointing outwards. Folding back a corner of the bread he announces...

"No chips on this one. This rather bland, unimaginative sandwich must be yours" and he hands it to me, holding it between one finger and a thumb, as though it offends him.

"Thank you kind sir" I reply, taking the sandwich. God, he should be on Saturday Night Live.

"Now this ..." he proclaims, while presenting his sandwich with a royal wave, "is a sandwich with panache; a true gourmet meal. The Onion-Garlic chips blend with the aroma of Strawberry jam to make you absolutely drool."

"Uggh" I reply, munching my sandwich.

He sets his sandwich on his lap and reaches again for the pack. I sit up more so I can enjoy the floor show and eat.

He makes a show of rummaging through the pack while saying...

"We neglected to pack that Bordeaux Lafitte 1969 ... but there is a fine Coca Cola 2007, with a rather delicate bouquet. Oh dear, Michael..." as he gives me a delicate swish-slap, "you didn't even pack a single wine goblet."

I'm giggling around a mouthful of peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He hands me a Coke.

"I'm going to have to sip this directly from the container Michael. My goodness, I do hope none of our friends drop by... they will think we are such uncouth bitches."

I spray a huge gob of sandwich all over Michael! (Well hell, you try to eat and laugh at the same time.)

"Cough, cough, cough."

Jeremy delicately wipes the crumbs and bits of jam from his naked chest. The peanut butter is kind of smeared. He's picking at the larger pieces and dusting his fingers off. Then he admonishes me...

"I don't imagine you packed a single wet-nap did you deary?"

That gets him a spray of Coke and sets me on a coughing spell again.

"Damn it Jeremy..." when I can finally talk, "are you going to let me get any of this stuff past my tonsils?"

I tear off a bite of sandwich in mock anger and start chewing.

"Don't be a silly billy Michael..." and he makes that limp-wrested swat at me again.

"I have something to push past your tonsils my dear."

That earns him a huge, wet glob of sandwich right in the center of his chest. I am on my hands and knees now and Jeremy is slapping me between the shoulder blades - it's obvious I am about to choke to death!

Finally - "God damn it Jeremy! I guess I'll just wait until I get home to eat; you sadistic PRICK!"

"Tich... tich, Michael. How come I'm the gay one... but you're the one talking about pricks?"

"Ohhh" I groan and stand up. I need to walk around for a bit. My stomach hurts from laughing and I am still coughing.

"Jeremy, I - will - be - getting - even" I tell him and pick up the bug net and start walking towards the creek... the sandwich forgotten.

"Oh come on Michael..." he says to my diminishing back side, "I'll let you finish eating, honest. Beside, I don't know what you're bitching about... I'm the one that got the jelly spray and the Coke bath!" I keep walking.

Jeremy rewraps our sandwiches, picks up our Coke cans and walks over to where I am fanning my hand through some grasses, looking for insects. He watches me for a minute then walks over to the creek.

"I'm setting your cola in the creek Michael, to keep it cool" he tells me.

"Thanks" I reply, looking up at him.

He looks at me and I smile, to show him I'm not really upset or anything. After all, he's right, he is the one that got sprayed on. He's busy scooping up water to scrub at the jelly and peanut butter on his chest and stomach. I can't help but stare at him as he busies himself at the water. His tummy is flat and his chest has these cute, dime sized nipples. It's funny, I've not had fantasies about him before... but now... it's like some blinders have been removed from my mind. With his recent revelation to me, I feel this strong physical attraction towards him.

'Christ, it's not fair' I think. I force myself to look away. 'I don't want to have these feelings... these thoughts. I want to be a Dad some day. I want to be a normal guy with a normal wife and a normal family and live a normal fucking life.'

I spend the next half hour or so wandering about, absently kicking at grasses and turning rocks. I am lost in my own thought processes... my own little world of confusion and self pity. Jeremy seems to be lost in his thoughts as well. We occasionally look towards one another and smile. Actually, this isn't really unusual behavior for us. We often spend time together absorbed in our own thoughts. We have always felt comfortable enough with each other's company that constant conversation isn't necessary.

And, to tell you the truth, I am feeling mighty guilty right now. It's a feeling like I am leading Jeremy on; that I'm lying by omission. I am allowing him to think that his thoughts and feelings about me aren't reciprocated. But if I were to tell him how I really feel... then there is no turning back. I would be acknowledging something that I desperately want no part of. To accept it would be... to give up trying to change my thoughts. Surely, I pray, this is just a phase. I once thought I would start thinking about girls when I reached puberty... but that began a couple of months ago. Still, I can't give up hope.

I hear him call out to me. I look up and he is waving me over. He is about 50 or 60 feet away and bending over something. I abandon my own search, since I'm not really looking at anything anyway. I wander over to Jeremy.

"Look at this newt, Michael."

He is holding this semi-amphibious creature in the palm of his hand. About 3 inches long, it is brownish black on top with a tomato red underbelly. It is the Red-bellied newt -Taricha rivularis. A truly beautiful thing. Jeremy holds it tenderly. He is looking at it in his hand and gently stroking it with one finger.

"Rinse your hands when you set him back Jeremy. You know they have a neurotoxin in their skin" I warn him.

"Duh, Michael, I think I'm the one that told you that... brainiac."

'Oh, yeah' I think.

I find my own gaze wandering to Jeremy's shoulders. I had never really noticed that fine dusting of freckles before. And there is a little, tiny mole at the tip of his left shoulder blade. Now, how the hell can a mole look so cute? And when he shifts his upper body, his shoulder blades stick out like little wings. I could just about slip my hand between them. The little bumps of his vertebrae spiral down his back to disappear in the waist band of his jockeys. About an inch of his underwear are peeking above his pants; their brilliant white such a contrast to his summer tan. I smile to think of the contrast between his tan and my white, white skin. I rarely go around bare-chested outdoors. I just don't feel comfortable exposed like that. I know its silly. It's just the way I am. Jeremy, on the other hand, seems to have no modesty at all. I start to chuckle.

Jeremy looks up at me. He smils and asks me what I am laughing about.

"I was just remembering something" I said.

"Do you remember... it was the beginning of summer and you were over at my house. My Mom and Dad were gone and they left Suzzane in charge?"

"Oh yeah," he responds "and Suzzane snuck her boyfriend, Freddy, up into her room!"

We are both grinning now, like whores with a clean pap-smear.

"And I said, "Jeremy, I dare you to walk into my sister's bedroom with just your underwear on." And then... and then you did me one better and you stripped to the buff..." I am having trouble talking and giggling at the same time. Then I continue...

"You told me to gather up your clothes and wait down at the foot of the stairs and then... and then you walked bare assed into her room - chortle, chortle...gasp."

"Yeah, yeah" he continues. Then he says...

"Her and Freddy were on her bed making out. They both looked up when I walked in... then I said "oh sorry Suzzane, you said to wait until Freddy left." Then I walked back out... har ... har... snort!"

"Oh God..." I snort back, "then you ran down the stairs and we took off to the garage. You got dressed and we disappeared until my folks got home."

Jeremy is laughing so hard he has to use both hands to set the newt down without squishing him. We are both on our backs. OH God, Oh God!

It takes a little while, but we are eventually breathing normally again. We both lean up on our elbows to face one another.

"Hey," he says, "you never did tell me what she said after you went back into the house."

"Well..." I reply, "she couldn't say anything to my folks, she wasn't supposed to have Freddy over there. She snuck into my room later on and called me all sorts of names and said she would find some way to get even. Then I asked her what Freddy had said... about her playing footsies with you."

I start chuckling again. The story has to wait a minute.

"And... and" Jeremy prompts.

"She said Freddy just laughed. He said he knew that a dick that small wasn't going to satisfy my sister!" And I am rolling again. Snort... snort... snort!

"Oh you damn LIAR, Michael." Jeremy stands up.

"She didn't say that! Now what did she say?"

I am really guffawing now.

"I kid you not Jeremy. That's exactly what she told me." and I am holding my stomach.

Jeremy is quiet for a bit and then he says...

"She had a few hours to think. She just said that because it was one way she could get even with me. You know that... don't you Michael?"

I just nod my head. I am having trouble breathing again.

"I know Jer... I know. That's why I never told you"... snort, snort, chortle!

"I figured you wouldn't want to know" I say, grinning up at him.

Jeremy just grins back at me and shakes his head.

"That wench" he says, "I'd give my eye teeth to know what Freddy really had to say about it. Knowing Freddy, he called her a tramp and a few other choice names."

Jer reaches his hand down to me. I let him pull me up. I think we have both had enough of the great outdoors for one day. He rinses his hands off in the stream. Time to go home and play some Nintendo. Time to get absorbed in some mind numbing activity that will let the past few hours settle out. When we get to my house we fill the remainder of the day playing games and surfing the net until Jeremy has to go home for the evening.

It was later that evening, as I lie in my bed, reliving the day, that my mind wanders back to Jeremy's soft shoulders. Then my hand wanders to something that isn't quite so soft... and nowhere near my shoulders.

It seems like just overnight I have gone from this innocent, happy, carefree boy into this... sexually charged perv machine. I used to think that wanking was just the British term for winking. Now I am winking almost every single night - sometimes two or three times. I can't believe how much pleasure can be derived from such a simple animal act. Now I know how the monkeys in the zoo keep their sanity through their captivity. They just wank their cares away. It works for other species as well. Worried about your grades?... wank, wank. Worried about a pimple?... wank, wank. I know it doesn't make my problems go away, but for the short time that I am in sexual nirvana I don't give a horse-apple about the other stuff in my life.

Afterwards, wiping up those drops with a tissue, the guilt feelings wrap themselves around me again. Damn, this is not an activity, or the type of fantasy, that is going to help me to change. Despite that, I drift off to sleep thinking about Jeremy's nipples.

Poor Michael. Why is it that so many gay adolescents aren't able to just go with the flow? Wouldn't this be a terrific world if they could just celebrate their feelings like a straight boy? Well, let's hope Michael gets things sorted out. It is a shame to grow up having missed an opportunity for love. But somehow, I have the feeling that things are going to work out for our duo. Trust me, I know the author.

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