We reach North Carolina on Saturday morning. The Watts rent the same lakeside cabin every year, on Lake Norman in Denver NC. The lake is huge, but man-made, isolated and uninhabited, while a nuclear-power plant is being built. The woods come right down to the lake. You can see trees under water from when they filled the lake. It’s intriguing, but scary, like a horror movie because it’s so isolated. The town has one general store, with locals hanging outside beside the soda machine. I’m looking for dueling banjos from ‘Deliverance.’
(start at 2:00)
We have our bikes, so as soon as we arrive, the three of us ride into town. Stu tries to get a soda from the machine, going, “excuse me, ‘scuse me, ‘scuse me,” while the locals block him so he can’t quite get to it. Finally, he gives up, at which point the locals move away and indicate we can spend our money. Stu is angry, especially at us for not helping him. I go up, drop in three quarters and get three sodas.
They smile curiously, saying “Howdy” back.
“Can I have one o’ dem pops?” the biggest one asks.
“Sure, if you got a quarter,” I quip, realizing how glib I sound.
So I add, “I’ll share some with you,” And offer him mine.
“That’s okay. I got a quarter.”
His friends start to laugh at him, so I say, “That’s okay. Here, take a hit, anyway.”
“A hit?” the other two both exclaim.
“You know, a gulp.”
“Well, be sure you let us know when you’re sharing your weed.”
I walk back to Scott and Stu, handing them their sodas. They seem apprehensive, so I walk back to the locals.
“Is that what y’all do up here, smoke dope and chase girls?”
“Sometimes one, other times the other, and sometimes both.”
“We’re staying down the road for a couple of weeks, so if you’re going to do the other, we’re interested.”
“The other what?”
“Chasing girls, of course. My name’s Tim,” and I put out my hand, which they look at but don’t shake. “And, that’s Scott and his little brother Stu.”
“Yeah, Stupid. We saw them last year.”
“He’s not stupid no more.”
“Good fer him.”
“So what do you guys do when there’s no tourists to pick on?”
The skinny one jumps in, “Well, there’s moonshine and the pot trade in the late summer. Then we goes rab’bit huntin’ in the fall, maybe get us a deer, then duck huntin’ all winter, and when we’s bored, there’s always our sisters and female cousins.”
Everybody laughs. Scott and Stu come over, and we share our sodas. Before we leave, the skinny one, called Floyd, tells us to meet them at the drive-in that night.
“We don’t have a car.”
“Nobody does. Just sneak in under the fence, right behind the screen, and meet us at the snack bar. You don’t need no car. And if you keep talkin’ so slick, one of them local girls’ll be sure to pick y’all up. We’ll let you know which ones got big brothers who’ll whip yer ass or not.”
“Thanks, that sounds exciting.”
“Where you boys from?”
“Florida,” omitting the Miami part.
“We thought you might be good ol’ boys when you said you come ‘up’ here. Yankees always say down here.”
“Well, up here, we can be the ones that be down.”
“You talk like a Negro, boy.”
“Nothing wrong with bein’ friendly.”
We ride back to the cabin, without talking. Finally Scott breaks radio silence.
“We’ve never socialized with the locals before.”
“I doubt they would call it socializing. I guess I got carried away with my southern accent.”
“Now, yer doin’ it.”
“I guess,” and we all laugh.
“Well, are we going to meet them at the drive-in?” I ask.
“You got to be kidding?”
“Hell, they didn’t look like they were going to beat us up or anything, after they fucked with Stu.”
“That’s what you think. You just walked up to them, calm as could be.”
“They ain’t no different than us, just different interests.”
“Like pot, and hunting, liquor and girls.”
“See, we all share the same interests.”
“Yeah, you do, not me.”
“Well, we could chase girls with them.”
“Sure, sit there and spit tobacco juice at ‘em.”
“Com’n Scott, it’ll be fun.”
“We always sit on the porch and play cards at night.”
“Well, let’s do that tomorrow night.” I put my arm around his shoulder. “I know you want to do this.”
“Okay, but just this one night. It is Saturday.”
Stu wants to come, of course, but relents because we were going to chase girls. Mr. and Mrs. Watt are unsure of the concept, but allow us to go to the drive-in. It’s the part about going to the drive-in without a car that gets their attention. We describe Floyd and his buddies as upstanding members of the community. After convincing his parents, Scott is more enthusiastic about our adventure. When we get ready in the bathroom, he slicks down his hair and puts on aftershave.
“Man, you’re goin’ t’attract all the mosquiters in four counties with that shit.”
“Where did you learn all these country expressions? Four counties?”
“Well,” I say real slowly, “Y’all don’t understand. I’m a country boy at heart.”
Scott grabs me in a hug.
“You sure you want to be chasing girls?”
“Well, I thought you could have Floyd and I’d take the big guy.”
“Yeah, we’re going to chase girls. The way you fuck, you’re going to make some girl very very happy tonight.”
“You think I fuck good?”
We are still hugging, so I kiss him and can feel his dick start to harden against my leg.
“Hold on, Leroy. I think we need a little of the opposite sex for you. You’re a great fuck, but not right now.”
I push him away just before Stu barges in.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“What do you care?”
“I have to put up with that perfume, and look,” he points, “Scott’s got a boner.”
Pouncing on him, I push him out of the bathroom.
“Can I sleep in here tonight with you guys?”
“So we can tell you about the girls?’
“Yuck. Come on. We’ll get up early and go fishing on the dock. I’ll sleep in the spare bed.” He just accepts that we’ll be together in the other bed.
“What’s wrong with hanging out with the folks for once?”
Stu looks hurt.
“Okay. Okay. You can do what you want. Just don’t be a pest,” his brother relents.
Mrs. Watt starts quizzing us over dinner about the movie. We don’t even know what’s playing, which worries her.
“Mom, it’s okay,” Scott defends us. “We’re just going out with the local kids and do what they do on Saturday night.”
“Well, what if what they do involves drinking and driving?”
“They don’t have cars, Mom. We’re going to sneak in the drive-in and hang out at the snack bar.”
“You’re not paying?” Scott has a lot to learn about allaying parental fears.
“You can’t pay if you don’t have a car. It’s what they do, okay?”
“Maybe you should have Dad drive?”
We both look really pained.
“He won’t want to hang out with a bunch of hillbillies. Ma, we sure fire ain’t gonna git us in trouble.”
I can’t believe what he said, or how he said it. Everybody just stares. So, he gets up.
“Right. So it’s okay. Let’s go.”
He puts his arm around my shoulder, and we walk out. By the time we get the bikes, we can’t stop laughing.
“Sure fire? Ain’t? Who taught you those?”
“You did. At least you said to get an accent.”
“I’m gonna buy you some chew.”
“You know, chewing tobacco.”
“Now you know how your mother feels about you right now.”
It’s still light out. We ride to the store to get directions to the drive-in. Scott’s slicked hair and aftershave are history by the time we get there. We ditch the bikes in the trees near the fence and wait for it to get dark. We sit there sucking on grass stalks being country…’a little bit country, a little bit rock n roll.’
It’s not long until we hear Floyd and company coming our way. We wait until they start over the fence, then yell at them:
“Hey, you. Stop.”
They don’t even look back, jumping the fence and running toward the back rows of the drive-in. We amble directly to the snack bar and wait for them as they furtively come up.
“Hey, you. Stop,” I repeat
They look at us in surprise, then break up.
“It was you boys. You motha fuckas.”
“Now who sounds like a negro?”
Floyd walks up, putting his arms around each of us
“Now you boys wouldn’t be tryin’ to put down us local folk?”
“Now you boys wasn’t tryin’ to sneak into this here movie without payin’, was ya?”
“Every Saturday night.”
“Well, Saturday night’s alright.”
There are five of them, all our age. Floyd makes the introductions.
“This here’s them Florida boys we met today.”
“Yeah, I’m Tim and this here’s Scott.”
“Well, these two here are Wayne and Jesse, and you met Seth and Big Joe at the store. Just didn’t get their names.”
“You boys bring some weed?”
”We don’t do that,” Scott speaks up for the first time.
“Well, what do you do?”
“Just chase girls, like we said.”
“Well, this here’s prime pussy country, but us local yokels don’t cotton to seeing our sisters being abused by outsiders.”
“When I do it, it’s never been called abuse.”
“Maybe you’ll git lucky tonight, but how lucky will that girl feel when you’s gone?”
“Serious deep questions, man. Let’s just hope there’s pussy left over fer y’all when we’s done.”
Scott stands right behind me and Floyd’s friend Seth backs him up, as we verbally spar. Floyd looks at his friends, motioning for them to come over.
“Y’all come sit over here with these boys. I think they might just have the right attitude.”
After that, we’re one big group, sitting at a picnic table, yucking and yacking it up. We ignore the movie that’s playing. Anyone who walks by is subject to catcalls and comments. The few girls going to the snack bar walk out of their way to avoid us, making our comments louder and more derisive. Floyd is a talker, mostly the longtime local gossip about everyone, their cheating ways and out-of-wedlock births. It seems unlikely we’ll even meet any local girls. I remember hanging out with my South Beach friends, how they checked me out without seeming to do so. It’s fun sitting on the bench; the accent thing soon becomes natural. They have pot and whiskey but aren’t upset when we abstain. Finally, Floyd corners Scott, making him take a big swig off the whiskey pint. He almost gags, but then takes another swig and passes it to me. I take one mighty shot. My mouth and throat burn. It hits us simultaneously. I tell Floyd to watch out for Scott, “’cause he gits crazed.”
“Yeah. Them quiet ones is always the worst.”
Just then a pickup, filled with older teenagers, roars by, jeering and hooting at us as much as we’ve been harassing the snack bar patrons. We hoot back, even Scott. Right behind comes a pickup with a shell over the bed, driven by two girls.
“Them girls by themselves?” I ask Floyd.
“That’s Cheryl Ann and her sister, Lee Ann. They’s seldom by themselves.”
We watch as they park along the side, far from anyone else.
“Whatcha think, Floyd. Those fine young ladies good potential?”
“Potential? Hell, there ain’t a boy in town that don’t know somethin’ ‘bout Cheryl Ann’s booty. Her sister just moved to town, and I hear she’s a slice of the same cherry pie.”
“Ya think a coupla lonely fellers like ourselves might find a welcome spot in their hearts and other parts?”
“There’s no one stoppin’ ya from tryin.’”
“Com’n Scott. We got ourselves some potential.”
He looks dubious, but is game to follow my lead. We walk straight over to the pickup and proceed to pick up.
“Howdy. My name’s Tim and my buddy’s Scott. We’s visitin’ town fer a coupla weeks and wanna meet some pretty girls.’
They giggle, then get out of the truck, sitting on the tailgate, while we stand around and talk. We tell them about ourselves, where we’re from, what we do, how old we are, and then we sing the Beach Boys ‘Barbara Ann,’ in our doo wop style…”ba, ba,ba,baba a ran…ba,ba,ba,baba ran…oh, Barbara Ann, oh, take my hand…ba,ba,ba baba a ran..”
Lyrics © EMI Music Publishing, COUSINS MUSIC
I do the falsetto and Scott the tenor. It cracks them up. I can see in the corner of my eye that Floyd and the boys are going ape shit. The girls invite us to sit with them.
“How’d y’all know our mama’s name is Barbara Ann?
“Just a lucky guess.”
“Y’all have a car?”
“Naw, We just snuck in with Floyd.”
“How can you stand that boy?”
“We just met him today, but he’s okay. Kinda a gossip.”
“You ain’t justa whistlin’ Dixie.”
At which, Scott and I both whistle ‘Dixie.’ I know to get Scott to stand up, ‘cause it’s the local national anthem.
“You boys are a scream. You wanna blow this drive-in?”
We jump into the pickup. With Lee Ann on Scott’s lap and me in the middle, we roar off in front of Floyd’s gang.
“Bye boys,” we all yell out. I see Seth giving us the middle finger.
Cheryl Ann drives down a dirt road through the woods until we reach an overlook. The valley and lake below are dark with an occasional light. The pickup’s cab is suddenly too crowded. Cheryl Ann grabs a blanket from the back and leads me down a path, about one hundred yards away.
Smiling I turn to her, “This is about the time the monster comes and eats everyone in the horror movie.”
“Don’t be scary,” she complains, pulling me closer to her on the blanket. I put my arms around her, rubbing up and down her back as we kiss. She arches like a purring cat from my massage. She runs her fingers under my tee shirt, finally pushing it over my head.
“Y’all Denver girls don’t mess around. Ain’t I ‘sposed to be doin’ the undressin’?”
“I’m just revving your engine, Chief,” as she sticks her fingers under the top of my jeans. I pop open her shorts, pulling them and her panties halfway down her legs. She opens each Levi button, with cool assurance, until my hardening dick flops out.
“Ah, you’re bigger than expected. This will be heaven,” as she lays back.
I slide her shorts all the way off, pulling down my jeans as well. Then reaching under her butt, I finger both her ass and cunt simultaneously. I feel her get wet, and she starts to moan. Pulling her butt forward, I mount her in one thrust. She squeals like a pig, as I pump her and keep massaging her ass. She’s more than moaning and wraps her legs behind me. She’s practically gushing, wet and loose. I brace my arms on the ground, pumping in a regular rhythm, while she hangs on. with her legs locked on the small of my back. Her squeals reach a fever pitch as she approaches her first climax. I pull completely out, and then thrust deeply into her cunt. She squeezes and tightens on my dick as she cums, while I remain deep inside her orgasmic cunt. I begin to pump again, with her juices soaking my groin and thighs. Her mouth is thrown back and moaning, I continue my regular rhythm, watching her throw her long blonde hair back and forth. This is great. I feel my dick lifting her whole body off the blanket. Her fingers run through my hair. The sweat and cum make our skin slap against each other. Her tentative squeals let me know she’s beginning to climax again. I fuck her harder in the same regular rhythm. Her legs squeeze and release me. She’s screaming each time I thrust. I go rigid inside her, as she squirms on my dick. Getting into her own rhythm, she fucks me back. Giving her the control makes her cum again as I tense inside her contracting, straining body. I hope there are no farmers within hearing distance. As soon as she finishes cumming, she rolls us onto our sides, with me still deep inside her. She tingles from orgasmic pleasure, as she looks into my eyes.
“You’re incredible,” I whisper.
She shushes me and gives me a kiss. Then she rolls me on my back, while sitting on my dick which is bent straight up, inside her. Starting by squeezing her butt, I see the determination on her face to get me off. I start slapping her buns as she rides me up and down. She twists my small, hard nipples until I start to squirm. I’m rocking side to side trying to get away from the nipple torture, while she goes up and down on my dick. I reach up and lightly stroke her nipples which expand and harden. Swinging her head and squealing, she bucks like a cowgirl on my dick. I can’t stand being on the bottom any longer. Pulling her down to me, we roll over, and I begin thrusting as deeply as I can into her. Her legs wrap around me again, with her knees pulled up and her heels kicking my butt. She screams more and more, as she reaches her third orgasm. I know she wants me to cum, but my dick hasn’t done its backward turn yet. I’m not ready, but I start to breathe and moan like I am. I fake my orgasm as she reaches her next climax. As she calms down from the shivers and shakes, I whimper like a puppy. She strokes my forehead with kisses and whispers. We lie there panting, letting our breathing return to normal. My dick remains firmly deep in her cunt. From the distance, above the cricket and cicada noise, I hear Scott doing his cowboy yells that indicates he’s riding his own bronco mare. We laugh.
“Scott’s as loud as you are.” I joke.
“Well, maybe I’ll try him next.”
“So you think we’re done, huh?” as I gave her a little thrust.
“Y’all ready again?”
“Is Superman faster than a speeding bullet?” as I stroke in and out of her. She’s back on full attention. I get on top and just pump her for several minutes, as her ass rolls back and forth with my action. Her breathing gets into my rhythm and she wraps her legs around me. Massaging both her breasts, I really look at her for the first time. Her golden blonde hair is streaked with sweat and plastered against a long, thin neck. She has large, fleshy tits with wide, dark areolas and nipples that stick out. I lick each one as her breathing comes in short gulps. I start to thrust roughly, poking her cunt. The squeals start up and she’s fucking back with passion. Her squeezes seal my dick inside her, and we move like waves. I let go of the concentration that is holding me back. Our bodies are in a dance, in syncopation with each other. Faster and faster we fuck. I hold her cunt up off the blanket, while pumping her madly. My mind is singing the Doors’ ‘Love her Madly,’
my head thrown back, with no thoughts to interfere. We reach a climax, with her orgasm ten seconds before mine. I pull out just as my wad explodes, flying over her shoulders onto the blanket. I hold her cunt against my dick as I cum all over her stomach. Her pussy is throbbing in its own orgasm as she screams her pleasure. Once we both finish our climaxes, I roll beside her and stroke her wet hair. I hear Scott and Lee Ann still going at it. His screams change from the wahoos of a cowboy to the grunts of a worker moving heavy equipment. Some serious fucking going on in these woods. We laugh about them.
“You really only fifteen?”
“Why would I lie? I wish I was older.”
“No. Y’all’s perfect. I kinda thought you’d be in, out, and done, ‘cause that’s more the norm around here.”
“Well, if yer other boyfriends need lessons…”
“Oh, I don’t have boyfriends.”
I realize I might have said something wrong, so I shut up. Momentarily.
“You must’ve cum four or five times. I know you liked it.”
She turns away quickly.
“Now, what’d I say?”
“It’s just harder for me than you know.”
“Well, how old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” she looks at me tentatively.
“Why, y’all’s just getting started in life. I’m still a kid. You shouldn’t worry too much in this life.”
She moves over and kisses me.
“Let’s go see what those perverts are doing makin’ such a hullabaloo.”
We get the blanket and walk back to the pickup. They’re obviously in the back, from the motion and commotion going on. We sit on the grass and watch for a minute.
Finally, I yell out, “It’s gonna fall off if y’all take too long.”
They stop. Then Scott’s head pops out the back window.
“Hey, what’s happening?” I ask.
“You guys ready to go?”
“We are, but don’t let it stop you.”
“I can do this all night.”
A groan comes from inside the truck.
“But, maybe, I better finish up, okay?”
We laugh and wave him away. Soon the commotion is an ocean as the truck rocks and rolls.
“Now, he’s actin’s like he’s fifteen.”
“It’s ‘cause it’s his first time.”
“Oh. My gawd. He won’t pull out like y’all did, will he?”
“I doubt it.”
I yell at the truck, “Scott, pull out, pull out!”
We run over and bang on its sides. The motion just gets stronger and Scott’s cowboy yells reach a pitch. The pickup shudders and is still.
“Scott, did you pull out?”
“What,” he answers groggily.
We collapse in laughter. He sticks his head out again.
“What were you yelling?”
“Did you remember to pull out before you came?”
“So Lee Ann don’t git pregnant.”
“Oh, I guess I forgot.”
Cheryl Ann brushed his hair back.
“It’s okay. You’re pretty young. It’s not likely to happen.”
They both stumble out of the back of the pickup; he’s pulling up his jeans; she’s looking much the worse for wear. We all pile in front. Scott can’t contain himself, starting to giggle and chortle. Soon we’re a pickup of idiots, laughing all the way to the drive-in. I ask for their phone number, but they just shine us on. Off they ride in a cloud of midnight dust, leaving us stranded in the road.
Out of the bushes pops Floyd. “Well?”
“Thanks man, Y’all steered us right.”
“So tell me what happened?”
Scott is ready to tell all, but I nudge him in the ribs to hold back.
“They was the nicest girls. We all sat around and talked almost all night. Thanks fer pointin’ us in the right di-rection.”
“Y’all tellin’ me y’all went off with Cheryl Ann and her sister and did nothin’ but talk? Y’all think I’m some kinda fool?”
“No, man, y’all’s some kinda friend.”
He laughs, and we’re off the hook.
“See ya ‘round.”
“Yeah, see y’all.”
“You waited all this time for us to come back?”
“Sure did. We need to know if you boys are up to the standards of our local girls. Y’all want another swig of whiskey?”
We both take swigs, which taste terrible. They keep after us to tell them what happened, but we maintain our innocence. They finally leave, noting we should go to the drag races on Sunday. We agree to meet them at the store.
“What about the stock car races with Floyd?” Scott asks.
“We’ll go next time.”
“You guys are really hanging out with the hillbillies?” Stu asks. “I’ll bet they set you up with their sisters and watch you do it.”
“You’re a little pervert. I bet you’d like to watch someone stick a big old dick into her until she screams.” Scott is being graphic. Stu turns white and gets quiet. I slap Scott five. ”Good going, ace. You may have actually gotten him to shut up.”
We drive through town on the way to the restaurant, and sure enough Floyd and the gang are hanging out. We wave to them, but they just stare back. Dinner is nice, fried chicken in a big, hall-like room. People there are extra friendly, especially to paying tourists. I think about Floyd working in the kitchen here in five years and twenty-five years later. When we get back to the house, the Monopoly board comes out. Mr. Watt accumulates most of the property. The three of us gang up on him and he goes broke. After he’s out, it becomes really vicious with each of us forming and breaking alliances; we finally give up when it looks like Stu will win. We all go to bed by ten o’clock. Getting Stu to sleep by himself is not easy.
The next week flies by with lots of hiking, fishing, swimming, and horseplay. We see Floyd’s crew several times, but they’re not too friendly. We ask about the girls, but their response is noncommittal. We’re back to being faceless outsiders again.
On Friday afternoon, the three of us are riding on the deserted road between town and the lake. A pickup drives slowly by, then stops. It’s the fabulous Ann sisters. We start whistling the Eagles’ ‘Take it Easy,’ as we walk up to the pickup.
Writer(s): Jackson Browne, Delbert Mcclinton, Glenn Lewis Frey
Copyright: Music Corp. Of America Inc., Swallow Turn Music
They recognize the tune as we sing, “it’s a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford, slowing down to take a look at me…”
“Who’s the little brother.”
“Oh, this is Stu. Stu meet Cheryl Ann and Lee Ann.”
“Hi Stu, we’re sisters.”
Stu’s mouth drops about a foot. For once he’s speechless.
“Well, I hope y’all grows up to be as sweet as yer big brothers.”
I ask, “You girls just runnin’ around lookin’ fer trouble?”
“We’ve had all the trouble we need lately, thank you very much.”
“Anything we can do to help?”
“Hows about another song?”
Scott and I look at each other.
“Let’s do ‘Tears on My Pillow.’”
“… you don’t remember me
but I remember you
You stole my heart away
and then made me blue
Tears on my pillow
Frowns on my heart…”
Writer(s): S. Bradford, A. Lewis
Copyright: Gladys Music
After we finish, the girls are giggling and hugging each other.
“Y’all’s crack ups.”
Then we do ‘Do You Love Me.’
“..You broke my heart cause I couldn’t dance
You didn’t even want me around.
But now, I’m back to let you know
That I can really knock ‘em down.
Do you love me, do you love me
Now that I can dance, dance , dance
Shoop, shoop, come a little closer
Shoop, shoop, let’s work it on out, baby
…Now that I can dance”
Gordy, Berry, Jr
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
We do our best version of the Mashed Potato. Stu does the Wahtutsi while we sing a Capella.
“Well, what do y’all think?” I ask.
“You boys are crazy. Where did you learn to do all these oldies?”
“We just do it when we feel crazy, especially at workout, which is crazy by itself.”
“Y’all work out?”
“Of course, where do you think we get these great bodies?”
They look at each other and break up again.
“We gots ta go before we go crazy too.”
“Com’n. Y’all’s the Fabulous Ann Sisters. We want a song to remember y’all by.”
That’s all the encouragement they need. Getting out of the pickup, they put their hands on their hips, shrug their shoulders twice, and start in their own twangy voices:
“Does your chewing gum lose its flavor
On the bedpost overnight?
Does your mother say don’t chew it
But you swallow it in spite..”
Written by: BREUER, ERNEST/ROSE, BILLY/BLOOM, MARTY
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
It’s our turn to crack up.
“What kinda love song is that,” Scott complains.
“Maybe we don’t know any love songs.”
They get back into the pickup.
“See ya ’round boys.”
“When can we see y’all again? Y’all going to the drive-in Saturday night?”
“Not this week. We’ll look for y’all outside the store tomorrow. Don’t be a’gossipin’ with Floyd.”
“We haven’t. See ya.”
Stu suddenly finds his voice. “They’re pretty. They’re old. They really screwed you guys? I don’t believe it. They’re too old for you. They must be eighteen.”
“Cheryl Ann’s twenty one.”
Scott’s mouth drops. “I wonder how old Lee Ann is?”
“Didn’t you ask?”
“I wasn’t asking questions.”
“Com’n guys, tell me what it’s like. How do you do it?”
“Well, you tip the girl upside down, wiggle your dick into her, and piss down her cunt.”
“You need Sex Ed, Stu.”
He’s riding circles around us, trying to get us to tell him about sex.
Scott’s version: “You lie down together and float off on a cloud of bliss. You black out, think you’re in heaven, and a baby comes in nine months.”
Tim’s version: “It’s like sticking a pig with a stick. They squeal and squeal, until the stick breaks. Then they say they liked it and you do it all again.”
“When will I be able to do it?”
“You won’t, ‘cause you’re a fag.”
“You guys are, and you still get to do it.”
“We’re only fags with you,” and we chase him into the woods, until he falls off his bike.
“I hate you guys.”
“We love you, Stu.”
End of sex discussion.
That night, Scott and I sit on the dock, with our feet in the water.
“Seems strange not to have worked out for over a week.” I note.
“Coach’ll make us pay.”
“I remember my first workouts with Coach Earl. I thought I was dying. I’d go home, fall asleep at the table, and just barely make it to the next workout. I came by morning workout just to check it out. Coach made me swim.“
“All we do is survive until it no longer seems impossible.”
“Well, we’ve got a week to go before we’re back at it. I like it here. I’m glad I came.”
“Would you have come if we hadn’t done it the night before I had to leave.”
“I don’t know. It’s not just sex that makes me want to be with you all the time. But there’s no way I could stay there alone after we did it. It’s strange that we haven’t done it again.”
“We did it with the girls. It felt like we shared it, even if we were apart. I heard her squealing while you were doing it. It got me so horny I had to do it with Lee Ann.”
“You guys were sitting there listening to us?”
“Not listening, but you couldn’t help hear. It made her horny too.”
“Those girls are horny just riding around and looking to get fucked.”
“They didn’t need much convincing. It was cool. You just took her off into the woods.”
“No fucking around for this dude.”
“Are we always going to be like this? I can’t remember when we weren’t together.”
“We’re still growing up. We’ll start being different. Now it’s an emotional link, Scott. Our lives are exactly the same, except for schools and families, we do exactly the same thing every day, at exactly the same time. You’re dark and I’m light, but we even look alike, by the way we talk and walk. We’re just lady killers, accept it.”
“Man, you are so cocky.”
“You think so?”
“Well, don’t you?”
“I just don’t worry about crap. You saw me cry the other night.”
“You were crying?”
“Just one tear about my mom and the divorce.”
“I didn’t realize,” then he hugs me. “Do you miss her?”
“Not really. That’s what bugged me. I should care more, but I don’t. I grew up with them always there, but I didn’t need them. First my dad, now Mom’s left, but I don’t miss them. The security’s gone, which makes me uneasy, that’s all.”
“You’ve got our family.”
“Thanks. Even growing up, I always became part of my friends’ families. I’m like a foster kid. I wonder if I’ll be able to be a family man?”
“Not if we stay faggots.”
“Yeah, we can marry and Stu will be our kid.”
We sit there, leaning against each other, just thinking and watching the lake.
I look at him. “I don’t think I want to be normal. I want more than what’s normal. To do things you can’t do if you’re a dad.”
“You could be a whacked-out mommy.”
“Yeah, and when you come home at night, we can drink ourselves into a stupor.”
“I can’t believe we’re talking about being married.”
“I can’t believe you think I’d be the wife-y.”
“Well, at the end, I was the one on top.”
“You sexist pig. It was only because you’re so slow. I suppose you think you’re a better fuck?”
“Maybe we should find out right now.”
He shoots me a sly smile that means he’d love to try. Then says, “Fuck yourself, if you’re so good.”
I jump him and we roll around until we fall off the dock, into the water. He swims away, taunting me to chase him, which I do. It turns into a race, until I grab him by the foot. He turns on me, pulling me down. Underwater, we kiss long and deep.
Once we pop up, I said, “I was worried we are over this stage.”
“Because I liked getting laid by those girls? I think you’re jealous.”
“I think you’re straight, Scott. You just did me because you needed a fag to help you get laid.”
He takes off, and we race back to the dock. He beats me easily this time.
“Your doubts defeat you,” he proclaims. He’s learning.
The next afternoon we tell Stu to stay home while we go to the store, hoping to see the girls again. Floyd and crew barely seem happy to see us. We ask about the stock car races which gets them going about cars. They describe last Sunday’s Demolition Derby, the day we ditched them. We talk about Dodges vs. Chevys, Pontiacs vs Plymouths, the demise of Ford, and of course, the pollution controls just beginning to put a crimp on American muscle cars. For once, Wayne talks more than Floyd. From his fingernails, I can tell he’s a real grease monkey.
“All it takes to bypass them controls is ta turn the air cleaner cover over. Makes y’all sound jist like a cop car.”
“Hell. When I’s on a run, they never git close ‘nuff to hear ’em. But ol’ Leadfoot Jesse here can’t seem to git away from ‘em in his piece a shit Mustang. I heard the pigs real good when we was stopped down in Charlotte last spring.”
“Shit, it was y’all that was ‘sposed to be watchin’ out.”
“What’s a run?” I ask.
“Y’all ain’t never been on a run?”
“Don’t know what one is.”
“They don’t run moonshine down in Florida?”
“Ain’t so many blind people neither.”
“Shi-it, moonshine don’t makes y’all blind, too much moonshine do.”
“Dew wot?” Floyd pipes in.
“Tell us about a run?”
“Y’all ain’t no gobinent agents?”
“Hell, no, we’re fifteen years old. Was that moonshine, y’all gave us at the drive-in.”
“Y’all is missin’ out on the pleasures of life down there in Florida. Ain’t ya seen ‘Thunder Road’ on TV?”
“Ain’t that about tobacco and race car drivin’?”
“Y’all is most ignorant. That’s ‘Tobacco Road.’”
They all pipe in about highly exaggerated car chases and near brushes with the law. Each one has his own exploits to expound, heavily edited by the others.
“You think y’all could handle a muscle car on these roads,” they challenge me.
“Hell, the only car I ever drove was my mom’s station wagon when she got too loaded to drive.”
Scott’s eyes bug out at me.
“Hell, I won’t let y’all near my rod. Y’all may be good with the ladies, but y’all ain’t no man’s man yet.”
“We just wanna go on a run.”
“Well, speakin’ of runs, we all may be goin’ to Boonesville this week. Stick around, y’all might git ur chance.”
“And, speakin’ of ladies, guess who’s pickup just drove up.”
It’s the Ann Sisters. They slowly pass by. Scott and I grab our bikes, wave them down, throw the bikes in the back of the truck, and jump into the cab. Lee Ann lets Scott put her on his lap. We wave at the boys on the corner, who just stare.
“Well, howdy do, young ladies.”
“Where y’all goin’?”
“To pick y’all up .”
“To your house?”
They look at each other and smile.
“Well, are yer folks home or sumthin’?”
“Okay. Let’s go.”
We drive into the countryside to a nice brick house on its own lot in the woods. As soon as we’re there, they start taking off our clothes, so we pull off their tops and jeans. They start to giggle at the sight of Scott and me, standing there naked with full hard-ons.
“Don’t you boys get embarrassed in front of each other?”
“We ain’t lookin’ at each other,” although now we are.
The girls keep giggling and hugging each other, so we move in on them together, prodding them like sheep with our stiff dicks. They’re hysterical, clutching each other.
“Let’s all four of us do it together,” Scott suggests, squeezing Lee Ann’s tits, while prodding her with his dick.
Both of them hide their faces in their hands and look shocked, but we know they’re thrilled. Cheryl Ann leads us into her bedroom where there’s a king-sized bed – perfect. I grab her, while Scott is on top of Lee Ann. Soon the bed is really rocking as we go up and down in the same rhythm. I reach over and grab Scott’s hand while pumping away. We were holding hands, while the girls really get into it. Soon Cheryl Ann starts to squeal, and as soon as she let out her first scream, Scott starts his cowboy yells. After listening to them for a few strokes, I pull out of Cheryl Ann, pull Scott off Lee Ann, and we switch partners. The girls are so horny they don’t complain, putting their legs around each of our waists and holding on. Scott soon has Cheryl Ann squealing too. I concentrate on Lee Ann until I have her ready to climax. Her squirming and breathing reaches its peak while Cheryl Ann’s squeals become grunts and moans. They both orgasm simultaneously. Scott and I high-five. Who says missionary position doesn’t work. I can tell he’s about to cum, so I quicken my strokes into Lee Ann, to which she responds with tighter squeezes. She has a tight little pussy that barely takes all my dick. Our increased pace brings Scott even closer to climax. I feel my dick do its upward turn and ride her to the finish. I pull her butt off the bed, fucking her from my knees. Scott gets on his knees and we put our arms around each other as we pump out our orgasms. Cheryl Ann is squealing as high as ever, and even Lee Ann is grunting. I pull out just before cumming. The first spurt of jism flies across her stomach, then I geysered cum, again and again. Scott pulls out, and his jism hits Lee Ann in the face as he leans toward us as he cums. The sisters are laying side-by-side, arms around each other, as we continued to cum. We’re a tight little fuck bundle of four. They squeeze our waists until we stop cumming. I go down on Lee Ann and start to eat her pussy. Scott hardly hesitates. Soon they are experiencing long, sustained orgasms together. With their pulsating finally over, I look over at Scott; we both have white, pussy juice mustaches. We laugh and laugh.
Then I hear a car door slam.
“Someone just drove up, Cheryl Ann.”
“Shit, it’s my husband.”
“Yeah. Y’all’s gotta go now.”
She runs into the living room and scoops up our clothes, while Lee Ann pushes us into the bathroom. All of us are in there, when the front door slams and a voice booms out.
“What y’all doin’, Cheryl Ann?”
“We’s in the bathroom. I’ll be right out, honey.”
She whispers we are to get the hell out of there, pointing to the window. Lee Ann says to hide under the window, and she’ll let us know when the coast is clear.
“What about our bikes? They’re in the pickup,” I whispered.
“We’ll bring ‘em by the store later. Now git!”
We leap bare-ass out the window, waiting in the shadows for the signal to run for the woods. We hear someone enter the bathroom and start a stream hitting the bowl, knowing it isn’t the girls. We look at each other like desperate men. At last, Lee Ann leans out the bathroom window, pointing for us to run for it. Scott stands up and kisses her, then she hugs me. We take off for the woods. Looking back I see her laughing at our little white butts high-tailing it across the lawn. She waves at me to keep going. We dive under a tree, look at each other, and break up.
“Married? I gonna kill Floyd,” I gasp.
Scott becomes hysterical. I have to gag him for fear he’ll be heard from the house. He clutches me, and we roll around on top of each other. We are covered in dirt. We put our clothes on, then lay watching the house, hoping the husband will soon leave.
“Can you believe what we just did?” Scott remarks.
“It was fun, huh?”
“We were fucking them like a team of horses.”
“Sisters are the best.”
“Unless one’s married.”
“You shoulda seen Lee Ann’s face when you hit her with your cum,” Scott said.
“I think it was Cheryl Ann you hit with your best shot.”
“No, you were fucking her.”
“No way. I was fucking Lee Ann.”
“We switched. You don’t remember?”
“We switched? You gotta be kidding.”
“Your brain must turn off when you fuck.”
“It wasn’t my brain that was turned on.”
“What a dick.”
We lay on our stomachs watching the house.
“How long should we wait?”
“I don’t know. Until he has a chance to go out again. I don’t want to walk home. How far do you think it is.”
“Who knows. I don’t even remember how we got here.”
“When did your brain turn off?”
“The second my dick got hard.”
“When was that?”
“The second we got into the pickup.”
‘What a horn dog.”
“You know what. I’m turned on now,” and Scott jumps on top of me.
I can feel his hard-on pushing against my butt. I buck like a bronco, while he holds on. Soon he’s humping me. I roll over so both our dicks were rubbing each other through our clothes. I pull his shorts down, as he removes mine. Our dicks are sticking out the top of our orange Speedos. My hands pull his butt into me. He leans back on his knees, and I slide over to take his dick in my mouth.
“Oh, man, your dick smells gross.”
“Must be rotten pussy juice. Does it smell like fish?”
“Yours smells quite fine.”
Scooting down, he swallows it whole and starts giving me vigorous head. I move up and grab his dick with my knees.. He starts to pump me while continuing to give head. I let my dick race past it’s point of no return. Before cumming, I pull out of his mouth. The jism spurts onto my chest while he licks my balls and dick. I point it straight up and jism geysers onto his face and into his hair. I slide far enough down to take his smelly dick into my mouth as I finish cumming. I suck as hard as I can, and he cums instantly, down my throat. We jerk and spasm in unison, finally slowing and stopping. He looks like the wild boy from Borneo, naked, covered with dirt, and face streaked with wet cum. I’m sure I look just as bizarre. We start laughing again.
“We’re just sex machines.”
“Yeah, perverted sex machines.”
And he starts to yodel.
“Shut up. He’ll hear you.”
“He’ll think I’m a coyote.”
“There ain’t no coyotes in North Carolina. More likely a banshee. He’ll come out and shoot you.”
“More likely, he’ll shoot you. You fucked his wife.”
“No, you fucked his wife.”
“Are you sure?”
“We were both fucking his wife.”
The whole idea of fucking someone’s wife is too much like fucking someone’s mother. It seems too weird.
“He’s still at the house. Let’s get out of here.”
We put our clothes on and head through the woods toward the road. We start walking in what we think is the direction to town. We’re filthy, as well as sweating through the dirt. A truck drives by, slowing, and then stopping to ask if we need a ride into town. When we get into his cab, he looks at us funny but doesn’t say anything. I realize we smell bad as well.
“Where y’all from?”
“Florida. Our folks are staying out on the lake, sir.”
“How’d ya git out here?”
“Just wandering, sir. Do you know what time it is?”
“Just ‘bout six.”
We look at each other in shock. The driver knows we are late and offers to drive us to the cabin, dropping us at the driveway.
“Y’all have a nice stay here in Denver.”
“Thank you, sir. We are.”
We run to the dock, throw off our tees, shorts and shoes, and dive into the water. We wash each other off while treading water. I can’t believe how filthy we are. We walk into the kitchen after leaving the dirty clothes in the laundry.
“Don’t you be dripping on my clean floor,” Mrs. Watt warns. “Where have you boys been? I thought you’d miss supper.”
“Over at some girls’ house. It got later than we thought.”
“So who gave you the ride?”
“To get home before dinner, we got a ride. Our bikes are still there. Sorry to worry you, Mom.”
“Well, get changed before we eat.”
Scott was getting better at parental misdirection and manipulation.
Stu follows us upstairs without a word. After showering, we’re changing into fresh clothes.
Sitting on a bed, Stu asks, “Does getting laid make your dick bigger?”
We look at him, at each other’s dicks, at our own dicks, and finally back at him.
“We’re just naturally big,” I tell him.
“When will I get big?”
“Never. If you worry about it. Maybe you’ll turn into a girl.”
“Can that happen?”
“If it can happen to anyone, it’ll happen to you.”
“You guys are mean, but I know you got laid again.”
We chase him downstairs to dinner. After eating, we’re stuck at the cabin without bikes.
The next morning, we hitch a ride into town, and sure enough, Floyd’s gang is outside the general store.
”Y’all go to the drive-in last night, boys?” I ask.
“Does a bear shit in the woods? Where was you boys last night, or, do I gotta ask?”
I grab him by the shirt, “Boy, you owe us an explanation. Cheryl Ann is married. We almost had our asses in a sling, when her husband come home. Y’all coulda saved us the bother with at least a warnin’.”
They all crack up. Making even us smile.
“Y’all have a bit of difficulty over there last night, boys?” Floyd is hanging a foot off the ground but able to make fun of us.
“Nothin’ we couldn’t handle.”
“Well, y’all wouldn’t be the first boys runnin’ bare-assed into the woods.”
Scott and I exchange glances and laugh.
“Maybe y’all should call the sheriff ‘bout yer difficulties,” Wayne suggests, and again they’re a laughing.
“I don’t think we need the sheriff.”
“Oh, he’d be mighty happy to hear yer story.”
“He just so happens to be Cheryl Ann’s sugar daddy.”
“She’s married to the sheriff?”
“Y’all find that instructive? Maybe y’all needs to live ’round here a bit longer ‘fore y’all start messin’ with our women.”
“Seems ta me she’s the sheriff’s woman, which y’all conveniently failed to mention.”
“Y’all sure were in a right hurry when they showed up yesterday. How’s we ‘sposed ta warn y’all.”
“I’m thinkin’ more about the night at the drive-in, when ya pointed us all in their di-rection.”
“Well, that might not have been such a good move. But y’all didn’t wait for no advice. What was y’all singin’ fer ‘em?”
“That old Beach Boys song, ‘Barbara Ann.’”
“That were the weirdest pickup line I ever did see.”
“Why don’t y’all just tell us how good it did work?”
“When it concerns the honor of ladies, even married ladies, our lips is sealed.”
“All you boys got ta think ‘bout is what a couple of Florida boys is doin’ to the local girls?”
All this banter ends abruptly as they jump us, pushing and generally abusing us around. We push back, but not too fiercely.
“You studs owe us all sodas,” Floyd declares, “for pointin’ y’alls in the right di-rection, even if we all knew y’all was steppin’ in shit.”
It cost us two bucks.
“Y’all goin’ to the stocks taday?” I ask.
“’Course. Y’all wanna come, or is ya goin’ off with yer folks agin?”
“We’re in, but we need a ride. Our bikes are still in the back of the girls’ pickup.”
More guffaws. “Maybe y’all should report ‘em stole. I got the sheriff’s number.”
Wayne changes the subject, “I got the garage keys. Let’s get that ’55 Chevy sittin’ in the shop.”
Scott looks worried about joy riding. I indicate to cool it. Then our favorite pickup drives up, beeping its horn.
“Y’all better git over there, boys. The long arm of the law be callin’.”
The girls look somewhat chagrined.
“We brought y’all’s bikes back.
“Did y’all git in trouble last night?”
“No way, but what were you boys hootin’ and hollerin’ ‘bout in the woods?”
I volunteered, “Y’all know who that was?”
Scott blushes, and they laugh.
“Y’all are so much fun.”
”How can you not tell me y’all’s married, and to the sheriff?”
“We didn’t mean ta git y’all in trouble.”
“Well, nothin’ bad happened, luckily. And it was great with you.”
“No way! But we’re a bit hesitant to keep seein’ y’all.”
“You boys are a real trip. Have ya told Floyd and the boys?”
“Not on yer life.”
“Thanks, Well, I guess this is good-bye.”
“We’ll git our bikes.”
We pull them from the back, then walk back to each side window. I reach in and gave Cheryl Ann a long kiss. Once Scott sees me, he does the same with Lee Ann. Afterward, the girls switch to give us both kisses. Scott’s feet are off the ground from being pulled into the cab. Whistles and hoots erupt from the general store.
“Guess we’re startin’ some gossip. Sorry.”
“It’s under control. You boys are worth it.”
They drive off in a cloud of hot dust. We push our bikes back to the gang.
“Wheee-uw, you boys are fire crackers.”
Another round of good ol’ boy pushing and shoving erupts.
“I promised y’all won’t gossip about that kiss. Y’all ain’t gonna sic the law on us now?”
“Yer love life is safe with us.”
“That’ll be a cold day in hell.”
Scott pipes in, “We got our bikes. We don’t need a ride to the stocks now.”
“Y’all is gonna ride bikes when ya kin go in a souped-up, fuel-injected 353 ’55 Chevy, with posi-traction and four-on-the-floor?”
“We may reconsider.”
We get on our bikes and ride over to the town garage. Being Sunday, no one is around. Wayne opens the roll-up door and leads us to the back. Under a tarp is a robin’s egg blue Classic ’55 Chevy, with a drag carburetor sticking through the hood, headers, pipes along the sides, and flames custom painted above the pipes.
“Man, there ain’t no way no one’s gonna not notice this machine,” I whine.
“That’s no issue,” Floyd rebutts. “This here’s Willie’s pride and joy. But Willie’s outta town. Now everybody knows Wayne’s been workin’ here for two years. They ain’t gonna say shit.”
Wayne turns the key, and as the engine warms up, all seven of us jump in. With the slightest touch on the gas, the souped-up engine roars, especially loud inside the garage. With squealing tires, we screech out to the street.
While Wayne goes to lock the door, Scott asks, “Does he have a license?”
All of us, including me, pommel him on the head.
“’Course not. We’re all fifteen. Just shut up.”
We drive to the speedway, pretty much under control. Once in the parking lot, Wayne has to show off. We cruise the lanes of parked cars. Anytime there are young girls, we’d slow to a crawl and gun the engine. A couple of times, we get in noise duels with other hot cars. Wayne challenges everyone to ‘drag,’ giving them the two finger ‘V’ sign to his lips. I expect to see James Dean driving Natalie Woods, with Sal Mineo in the back seat.
We park. Wayne and Floyd continue to challenge other drivers. We follow them as they repeat the rounds of the lot on foot. Finally, a guy and girl in a ’69 Dodge Charger, blue with custom flames, accepts the challenge. It’s to take place after the stocks are done, on the main road by the raceway.
We watch the gate where the cars are being let in and out. Floyd goes up to the guard, talking him up while we sneak through behind a car. Then the guard lets Floyd in for free.
“Y’all gots money?” he asks me.
“Go buy us some beer.”
“They ain’t gonna sell me beer. I’m fifteen.”
“You so sure, y’all go try.”
He’s right. I come back with seven beers. The next time Scott and I come back with fourteen. They’re only 50 cents each. It tastes a whole lot better than the moonshine, especially on a hot afternoon. By the time my twenty bucks is spent, we’re wasted. Scott is letting out his cowboy yells, like he was still riding Cheryl Ann. We put our arms around each other, wandering around with Floyd’s gang., They handle it better than we do but are still feeling no pain. Wayne is oblivious to impairing his abilities for the upcoming drag race. We watch the races, leaning up against the track walls and yelling as the modified stock cars race by. The demolition derby has plenty of crashes as the junkers go through the circle-eight course, in elimination rounds. Finally, one demolished Pontiac remains, making its victory lap.
We all stumble out the main gate to the parking lot. Wayne has his serious face on, as he checks out the Chevy. An older teenager comes over and warns Wayne not to do it, being Willie’s car and all. Wayne tells him to shove it. Then he tells Floyd to ride shotgun. Scott visibly relaxes, realizing he is no longer on the hook to ride in the race. We line up by the raceway entrance, which is the finish line. The two cars slowly cruise down the road to a distance of one mile. Most of the raceway crowd lines up on both sides of the road. Scott and I are arm in arm at the finish line. We can hear in the distance, the two cars’ engines roar up and down as they prepare to start.
It’s dead quiet for about five seconds, then both cars roar and screech forward, tires burning rubber. It’s too far away to tell who has the lead. Closer and closer they come. Finally we see that Wayne is falling back as they reach top gear. Then we see and hear an explosion and flames momentarily burst from the four barrel carburetor on the Chevy’s hood. Wayne goes by the Charger like it’s standing still. He flies across the finish line and slowly circles back as we surround him. The Charger’s driver jumps out of his vehicle and charges through the crowd around Wayne and Floyd.
“You lyin’ cheatin’ hunk of shit. Y’all don’t say nothin’ ‘bout no nitro injector.”
“I don’t say nothin’ ‘bout nothin’. What y’all think these here four shiny barrels is doing sticking through my hood?”
“I had yer ass ‘til y’all fired the nitro.”
“I jist let y’all get a little ahead so as to see the shit-eatin’ grin on yer faces when we flashed by yer sorry asses.”
They stomp away as we all high-five Wayne and Floyd. We pile into the Chevy and take a victory lap around the parking lot. They take their stock car racing seriously in North Carolina.
Wayne drives like a mad man back to the garage. We wash the Chevy carefully, so it doesn’t look like it was used. The car wash devolves into a water fight that goes on for twenty minutes, with control of the hoses passing back and forth; everyone is soaked. Wayne puts the Chevy in the garage and replaces the tarp. Just as we’re about to close the door, an El Camino drives up.
“Cool it,” Floyd warns. “It’s Willie.”
We shut up and stand in a soggy group by the garage door.
Willie stomps directly to Wayne.
“What’s goin’ on heah, boy?”
“Just washin’ the Chevy, boss. Guess we all got a bit carried away.”
“Don’t bullshit me, boy. I git home not five minutes and I git five calls sayin’ y’all has my car at the track taday. I trusted ya with them keys. Now give ‘em back.”
Wayne hands over the keys, looking really chagrined. He starts to apologize, but Willie cuts him off.
“Don’t ya give me none o’ yer lip. Y’all’s off work ‘til I’s decides I wants ya back. Now y’all git outta my garage.”
We all hustle out. Floyd turns and shouts to Willie, “Wayne stomped Curly’s Charger, Willie. Ya shoulda seen it, yu da bin proud.”
Wayne grabs Floyd, pulling him away as Willie shakes a tire iron and looks ready to chase us. We take off running, with Willie shaking his fist at us.
“He’ll calm down by tomorrow,” Floyd predicts.
Wayne agrees, “Don’t y’all worry ‘bout me. Willie won’t pump gas hisself for long. That’s all he’ll let me do fer weeks, but it was worth it.”
“We gotta go,” Scott announces.
“Y’all have a fine time taday, boys?”
“It was fine and Wayne drove a great race today. Y’all goin’ on a run this week?” I asks.
“Maybe yes, maybe no.”
“Well, count us in.”
They just stare as we ride off. We know we still aren’t fully part of the gang, but we do fit in. Scott rides his crazy zig-zag all over the road. It makes me remember we’re pretty drunk. When we get to the cabin, we ride right to the dock, throw off our clothes, and dive into the lake. I get Scott to race me about a quarter mile from shore. We lie there floating and horsing around before racing back. The water sobers us up, at least we hope it does.
Mrs. Watt calls us upstairs in the house while we are drying off.
“We’ve been waiting for you boys to go out to dinner.”
“Great. Can we go to the chicken place again?” Scott asks.
“Of course. Where have you been all day?”
“We went to the stock car races. You shoulda seen it, Mom, our friend raced this guy and beat him bad.”
“Badly, dear, beat him badly.”
“Sure, Ma, y’all shoulda seen it. It was bad.”
I think Mrs. Watt is having a coronary.
“Ma? When did you start speaking like a hillbilly, Scott?”
“Me? Y’all should hear Tim talk it up with them boys.”
“Okay,” she sighs. “Now get changed. We’ve been waiting on you to have dinner.”
Stu follows us upstairs. Scott tells him everything about our day at the races.
“You guys always leave me out. Are you going on a ‘run’ with them this week?
“I doubt they’ll let us go. Don’t say nothing to Ma.”
“Anything, Scott. Don’t say anything,” Stu corrects his brother.
I sit watching them. Scott and Stu are so alike but cannot admit it. Now Stu is correcting Scott like his mom does.
We drive to the restaurant. I’m starving and eat most of Scott’s food as well as mine. He, on the other hand, is beat and almost fells asleep at the table. We all eat apple pie. Once we are back at the cabin, Mrs. Watt comes in to talk with us.
“I’m glad you boys are meeting the local kids and having such a good time this year.”
“You should see the girls we met, Mom.”
“Well, good, at least you’re not still calling me Ma.”
“They’re sisters, Mom, and they talk so slow and pretty.”
“Did they go to the races, too?”
“Naw. It wasn’t for girls. Well, anyway, we can’t see them anymore.”
“The oldest one is ‘involved.’”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
“It’s okay. We had fun with them anyway, but people do talk around here.”
“You’re growing up, Scott.”
“Of course, Mom.”
“See you in the morning. Good night.”
“Good night, Ma.”
“Good night, Mrs. Watt.”
“You can call me Mom, Tim. Just don’t call me Ma.”
The next morning I’m up before Scott. He is still beat and sleeps in.
“Oh, hi Tim. Feeling better today?”
“I feel great. We were just beat last night from the races.”
“Maybe the beer, too.”
“Oh,” I pause. “Yeah, probably.”
“I just worry you boys are going to drink and drive.”
“We just rode our bikes.”
“Are those local boys old enough to buy beer?”
“No, but they sold it to us anyway at the raceway. Our friends are fifteen too.”
“They sold it to you, at your age?”
‘Nobody seems to care. Most everybody knows everybody hereabouts.”
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t try to hide it or lie, Tim.”
“I don’t think I could, ma’am.”
“I appreciate that. Being part of this family means being responsible, too.”
“I’m just grateful you accept me so much.”
“We think you’re a great kid, Tim. You did so much for Stu at first. And I can see good changes in Scott now: he’s so much more confident. Both of them are. How’d you get so much confidence yourself?”
“I guess it’s part of growing up in the military. I’ve always been on my own. We moved a lot. It makes it easier to meet people.”
“Well, we’re a little more old fashioned in this family.”
“I like it this way, Mom.”
She comes over and hugs me, which feels good. I even forget she busted us for the beer. She sits next to me.
“When we go back to Miami, will Scott keep staying with you?”
“It’s up to him, and you. I’ve never had such a best friend. Maybe I could stay at your house more.”
“I think he likes the freedom with you.”
“Yeah, but we don’t get into trouble. I like living in Miami. It’s the first place I really felt is home. I wish my mom had liked it.
“It’s hard to go through a divorce.”
“It’s like she lost it when my dad left. Without him, she has no life.”
“When is she moving?
“She’s probably already gone.”
“You mean she moved while you’re here?”
Mrs. Watt looks at me and gives me another, longer hug. A vague sadness creeps up my throat. I almost cry, without really understanding what my feelings are. Stu walks into the kitchen.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Tim’s just missing his mom.”
“Well, you’re his mom now,” he matter-of-factly states.
He comes over and hugs me too.
“Thanks, guys.” I shrug them off and brush away my almost tears.
Stu watches me carefully, upset that I can cry.
“It’s okay, Stu. You know what’s going on with my folks. I’m sure you’d feel this way. I’m really okay.”
“My folks’ll never get divorced. Will you, Mom?”
“Never, honey.” She hugs Stu, which is what he wants, and then he’s crying, too. I feel really lucky to have such good friends.
Once Scott is up and eats a humongous breakfast, we go off with Stu to explore the woods. We spend the whole day playing King of the Mountain and swimming in the lake. Before dinner, we ride into town to buy sodas. No one is around, so we go to the garage, where Wayne is back to work, pumping gas. He tells us to hide at the side of the garage, finally coming over once he gets a break from customers.
“Willie’s a bitch in heat.”
“Well, at least, y’all is back to work.”
“And workin’ twice as hard as I’m bein’ paid.”
“Life’s a bitch.”
“And, then ya die.”
“Has Willie said anythin’ ‘bout the race?”
“Jist complained a heap ‘bout takin’ the Chevy out. Says I gotta pay fir the nitro.”
“Dew wot? That’s what y’all say when y’all don’t havta work fer the bitch.”
“Ya think Floyd’s goin’ on a run this week?”
“Ya gotta ax him.”
“Where’s he at. He ain’t down by the store.”
“I’ll ax him tonight. Y’all come by the store tomorrow. Ya sure y’all wanna go? I seen the faces y’all make when ya drink that shit.”
“I don’t care ‘bout the moonshine. I jist wanna say I been on a run.”
“Yer crazy, too.”
“Ya gotta be when yer fifteen.”
The warning bell rings, meaning another customer pulled into the station.
“Gotta go. See y’all tomorrow.”
“Hot drivin’ yesterday, Wayne.”
“Thanks,” he grins and spits out tobacco juice.
Stu watches him spit and looks like he’ll puke.
“It’s just chew, Stu.”
“Then why’s it so brown.”
“That’s what tobacco is.”
“Tobacco. I thought he had the plague.”
“Shut yer mouth. Y’all never be no redneck.”
We ride to the cabin, abusing Stu all the way. He’s just happy to be with us again. The next few days pass with little word from Floyd. Then on Thursday morning, Wayne says to meet Floyd at the store at noon. After much complaining, Stu rides home by himself, promising not to snitch.
“What if you guys get arrested?”
“We’ll call from jail.”
“What if the moonshiners kidnap you?”
“Stop worrying. If we’re not back by tomorrow night, you can tell Mom.”
We wait by the general store. The days have turned into mid-summer scorchers, with dry dust blowing and only a dog or two wandering around. In keeping with our new friends’ sense of fashion, we’re wearing old jeans, white tees and no shoes. We look so much like the locals that tourists stop to ask directions. We mostly tell them, “Ya cain’t get there from here.”
Finally Floyd walks up and spits.
“Why y’all so hot to go on a run?”
“Just for the thrill,” I shoot back.
“Well, remember, this here’s a business proposition. If’n we add weight to the car, it might slow us down to the point the cops’ll be able to catch us.”
“Do wot? We ain’t gonna slow y’all down. Not that much no ways.”
“Well, let’s go to the garage.”
Willie takes one look at us and complains, “Whatcha need them boys fer?”
“They’s to do the loadin’ and unloadin’.”
“Y’all’s lazy sacks o’ shit.”
“Com’n Willie, give us the keys and stop belly achin’.”
He walks us around the back where a beat-up Charger sits. Willie gives Wayne a map and directions. We pile in the back, with Floyd riding shotgun. Wayne guns the Charger out of town, over back roads to a deserted field in the woods. We walk about two miles in and come to a camp that reminds me of the burned-out Viet Vet’s hooch in New England. A grizzled old man in overalls comes out of the lean-to, staring at us.
“Ya know I don’t likes y’all bringin’ strangers here.”
“Cool it, Pops, they’s our friends.”
We load up wooden cases filled with moonshine bottles, each of us carrying three. We have to stop to rest a couple of times before reaching the car. The cases fill the trunk and half the back seat. Scott and I are sitting on top of cases covered by blankets.
“Shi-it,” says Wayne. “Y’all’s too tall. It don’t look natural, sittin’ that way. Can’t y’all scoot down?”
We try, but it’s obvious we’re sitting on something. Scott volunteers to stay back, if we’d drop him in town.
“We gotta see Willie anyways, so that’s cool,” Floyd agrees.
We bounce along the country road back to the garage, Wayne claims he has to get the feel of the loaded car. Willie comes out and gets himself a case of moonshine. Scott tries to tell me to also stay back, but I’m too excited to miss out. We take off with all three of us up front.
“You ride pussy, boy.” Floyd orders, so I get in the middle.
He pulls out a bottle and each of us takes a swig. It’s vile, but I get an instant buzz. We share several swigs. Then I turn on a country music radio station and start beating on the dash to the music’s beat. When they play ‘One Toke Over the Line,’ we all sing the words.
Then Floyd tells Wayne to pull over on a deserted stretch of road. We all get out, with Floyd motioning Wayne to keep quiet. I watch for a second.
“What’s up,” I ask.
“Com’n into the woods with us,” he orders.
We walk a ways without talking. Finally he turns around.
“Lee Ann says y’all had real good times together.”
“Sure did. I told y’all that.”
“No, she says y’all had more than jist fun; y’all did it together.”
“Well, y’all know how girls talk.”
“We think y’all is sissy boys.”
“What part o’ sissy do y’all see here,” as I looked sharply at them.
“Lee Ann says y’all both wears girls’ underwear.”
“Those are swim suits,” I try to explain, without making my case.
“Well, y’all ain’t swimmin’ now, so ‘spose y’all show us that y’all ain’t wearing panties.”
“Y’all want me ta take my pants down?”
“Just to prove y’all ain’t no sissy boy.”
“I ain’t no sissy.”
“Well, whadda y’all call it then?”
“What if’n I’m a fag?”
“Well, y’all know what happens to fags in the South?”
“They git fucked up the butt.”
It is like a signal with Wayne grabbing me from behind and Floyd tackling me from the front. We wrestle around. Although I’m bigger than either of them, they soon have me pinned on my back. Wayne sits on my chest, while Floyd pulls down my jeans.
“She-it,” he whoops. “Jist like she said, orange panties.” Thanks, Coach.
He pulls my jeans and suit all the way off.
“I got meself a souvenir,” he crows, waving my Speedo over his head.
Wayne twists around to look. I’m able to throw him off me and jump to my feet. They chase me to a tree, where I stand my ground.
“Look at that dick,” Wayne pointed. “He’s hard as a rock. Woo, is he hung.”
“Look at your dicks,” I point at their jeans. They both have hard-ons.
“You know I ain’t no sissy, but I know how to have a good time. We don’t have to beat up each other to do it,” I suggest.
I move toward them, but they aren’t about to admit how much they wanted to fuck. Floyd charges me again, and soon all three of us are wrestling on the ground. I pin Wayne on his stomach, reach around to undo his jeans’ buttons, and pull them and his underwear down to his knees. Floyd is trying to pull me off of him. When I mount Wayne in one thrust, I feel him give in underneath me, as I pump him in and out. Floyd is flailing on my back, until I reach around undo his jeans. I feel his dick flop out on my pumping butt. I spit in my hand and cover his dick with saliva. He quickly mounts me, while I continue to fuck Wayne. All three of us are one humping, pumping fucking machine. I reach around Wayne and grab his straining hard-on, stroking it in the same rhythm Floyd uses to fuck me. As I stroke his dick, Wayne starts moaning louder and louder. I can feel his dick strain with the load he’s about to pop. I stroke him faster and faster, with Floyd’s fucking motion rocking me in and out of his butt. Wayne convulses. I feel the sperm shoot out his dick. His butt squeezes and squeezes me, as he cums, sending my dick past its point of no return. Once Wayne finishes, he totally collapses with both of us on top of him. Almost cumming, I pump him furiously, with Floyd just riding me. I tense inside Wayne, while Floyd starts his final pumps in my ass. As I cum, my butt squeezes Floyd’s dick, driving him to climax too. We pump until we’re dry, Wayne on the bottom, Floyd on top, and I’m the meat of this fuck sandwich. As we finally fall apart, Floyd became as alert as a guard dog, telling us to shut up and be quiet. In the distance, I hear a two-way radio.
“Shit. The cops found the car.”
We get our clothes on in a hurry. Floyd isn’t about to give up my Speedo, but I don’t complain. I guess sex trumps fear of cops. We sneak back to the car, keeping behind bushes and trees. Once near, sure enough we see a police cruiser parked behind the car, with the officer inspecting the Charger. He obviously sees the moonshine. Floyd is furiously trying to figure what to do.
“We gotta git him away from the car, so we can make a break fer it. Where’s the keys, Wayne?”
He holds them up. Floyd looks at me, putting his hand on my shoulder.
“Can y’all lie good?” he whispers.
“If’n I has to.”
“Good. Now listen here. Circle around so as y’all comes up to the car from the opposite di-rection. Cry out, and then fall down. The cop’ll run over ta y’all. We’ll jump in the Charger and make our getaway. The cop’ll just take care of y’all. Tell ‘im ya was hitch-hikin’ and these nasty old men tried to rape y’alls in the woods. He’ll probably take ya home.”
“Sounds like the truth to me.”
He looks sharply at me. Then we both smile.
“Yeah, almost. Jist give ‘im fake descriptions.”
“Okay, well, here goes.”
I backtrack through the woods, coming out on the opposite side of the car. Before I see the cop, I start running through the brush. When he comes into view, I yell and wave as he looks up. Then I fall down.
Lying there as he picks me up, I mumble, “They’re after me. Help me,” over and over.
“Where are they, boy?” the cop asks.
“They’re chasing me.”
Suddenly, the Charger’s engine roars to life. With tires squealing, Wayne and Floyd take off. The cop runs back toward his cruiser, pulls out his revolver and fires off six shots. I hear the back window blow out, but Wayne keeps going. The cop gets on his radio and calls for back-up. In a couple of minutes, he comes back to where I’m lying (literally and figuratively). He has a soda which I gulp down, my hands really shaking.
“What happened, son?”
“I hitched a ride with these two men, but instead of taking me to town, they drove me way out here in the country. They dragged me into the woods and were trying to get my clothes off. I hit one of them, then they started beating on me, but I broke away. They chased me through the brush. I heard your radio, so I ran in this direction, until I saw you. I was never so glad to see a policeman before.”
He looks me over, noticing the dirt and rips to my jeans and tee shirt from the fighting. The seat of my jeans is wet from Floyd’s cum that has slithered out my butt while I was running. The cum smell verifies my story.
“Did they rape you, boy?”
“They were trying, sir, but I got away.” I try to show defiance, covering up my defilement.
“Y’all is very lucky,” and he puts his arm around me to lift me up. I sob momentarily, then straighten up. Walking to the car, he asks where I’m from. I tell him I’m visiting Denver with the Watts. He gets on the radio and arranges for the Denver sheriff to pick me up.
“You got in with some bad characters, boy. Not only did they try to rape you, but they was runnin’ moonshine. If we catch ‘em, I hope y’all be willin’ to identify ‘em.”
Then he asks for descriptions, which I make up. Several more cop cars arrive. I hear that the boys haven’t been caught, even though roadblocks are set up. They ask if I want to go to the hospital. I say I’m okay. I’m given a pair of jeans, way too large, so mine can be used as ‘evidence’. I have to hold the new ones up. When the Denver sheriff arrives, I’m mortified to see Cheryl Ann sitting beside him. She runs to me, all shaken up.
“I’m okay. I got away from ‘em.”
“I was so scared for y’all when yer name came ‘cross the radio. I jist had ta come myself.”
The Sheriff comes over.
“You okay, son. Cheryl Ann says y’all is friends with her sister.”
“Yes, sir. I had a close call. Thanks fer comin’ out.”
I don’t say another word. Now I have two deceptions to carry out.
“Well, we’ll take y’all home, quick as can be.”
It was the longest ride I can remember, all three of us sitting in the front of his Blazer. Cheryl Ann is stroking my hand and leg, solicitously, and I have another hard-on. Luckily the over-sized jeans hide everything. When we pull up to the lake cabin, all the Watts came running out. Scott is white as a ghost.
“He’s had a pretty bad scare, ma’am,” the sheriff says. “You mustn’t let your boys hitch-hike around here. Y’all can’t trust everyone. We may need to talk to Tim again, if we catch the two who roughed him up.”
The sheriff gets our information in case he needs to contact us in Miami and then leaves. Cheryl Ann gives me a friendly hug, while Scott keeps his hand over Stu’s mouth.
Once they leave and Mrs. Watt had given me a long hug, Mr. Watt gives us a lecture about not hitch-hiking. I assure them I’m okay. Then Scott and I go down to the dock. We try to shoo Stu away, but since he knows Cheryl Ann is one of our girlfriends he blackmails us into including him. He swears complete secrecy. Scott is being protective and maternal, which I fully play up, until we were sitting on the dock.
“It’s all a scam, Scott.”
“Yeah. We were about to get busted. I pretended that a couple of old men had beat me up. Wayne and Floyd made their getaway, while the cop was helping me,
“All that stuff with the cops is a lie?”
“Pretty much. Don’t look so shocked. It’s part of the run.”
I tell them the details without the rape part.
“Man, I feel so bad not going with you,” Scott rationalizes.
“It was kinda cool, but I hate lyin’.”
I feel badly about leaving Scott out of the whole truth, but I know it would be worse if he knew. He may even be jealous. I hope Wayne and Floyd get totally away. The cops must have the car’s license number. I know we’ll find out the next day.
We stay home that night, playing Monopoly. I’m beat and go to bed early. In the middle of the night, I wake up, unable to get back to sleep. I slip out of the room and go sit on the dock. The stars stretch from horizon to horizon, so much so that I cannot pick out the usual constellations; there are just so many stars in the dark, moonless sky. I think about my folks. I’ll soon return to my dad and his new girlfriend, now in my house. I know he’ll be pissed I went to North Carolina. I can’t believe how many people I deceived on this trip. All that ‘good ol’ boy’ act, the accent, and not saying we’re from Miami is so shallow. Sneaking around with a married woman is exciting but way out of my depth. The whole story with the cops is a nightmare, especially since they believe me. And the worst deception is not being able to tell Scott what happened with Wayne and Floyd. Did they force me to have sex against my will? I can explain it that way, but I went along with it and enjoyed it, even the fighting. Now I feel I cheated on Scott. Do I know whether he will even be jealous? What kind of relationship do we have? We certainly aren’t monogamous when we both screwed the Ann sisters. I really don’t think Scott is very gay. We had sex with each other only once. I romantically thought coming up here would mean we’d be alone a lot. Instead, we had all these adventures, involving various people. Maybe he feels uncomfortable having sex around his family. There just isn’t the same intensity we felt before we’d even done it. Maybe he did it to please me, since I’m the gay one. Now we can just continue to be best friends. I’m past doubting my gayness, but I’m still confused about girls. All the girls I’ve fucked were casual one-time affairs. Sex is as good with girls as it is with guys. Last summer Joey weaned me off my emotionally wrought self-involvement. With Scott, we were emotionally charged before we had sex. Doing it solidified our feelings; it’s a more mature relationship and seems natural. Maybe we’re best friends who sexually experiment, and we’ll grow out of it. The incident with Wayne and Floyd is just weird. They obviously felt it’s okay to victimize me. I’m sure they aren’t dealing emotionally with what actually happened. It’s threatening to their sexual identities, especially Wayne’s. Better to consider their confusion as just rewards for trying to rape me. I like those guys, especially Wayne, remembering his drag race victory. But I’m not going to miss them after we leave. That thought hits me; we leave the following day, on Saturday morning. I can just drive away from all the complications my deceptions caused, just leaving them behind. It’s too pat, running away from my problems. Do I want to tell the sheriff about the moonshine, what happened in the woods, and, oh yeah, I’ve been screwing your wife, plus her sister. The truth shall set you free. Might as well tell the Watts about Scott and me. And Helen should know the truth about Joey’s career in porno, hustling and dope dealing. A clean sweep of deceptions won’t help anyone and still won’t make me the innocent boy I pretend to be. Last year, when I was overwhelmed by the emotions of my experiences, I threw myself into swimming and the kids on the team, with great results. Again, I have let things get out of control – sex, drinking, and crime. Was I so hot-blooded I always lose control? Will being the ‘good kid’ in Miami work again. The issue is to take responsibility for my actions before events spin out of control. I can’t play the kid card forever. If I take responsibility, can I handle the consequences. The reason Willie is using kids to do his moonshine smuggling is the law goes easier on kids when they get caught. I’m so tempted by the action. Scott knew enough to get out of there, which seemed like wimping out at the time. He did what he had to do. I did the opposite. I only got away with it by a massive lie. If he’d gone with me, maybe those guys wouldn’t have tried to rape me. The whole situation, including the cops, could have been avoided. My mind spins with all the ‘what if’s’, until I finally relax. All I need to do is be cool and learn from these mistakes. Real intelligence is not making the same mistake twice. I lean against the piling and see the moon come up over Lake Norman. I start whistling Otis Redding’s “‘Sitting on the Dock of the Bay’….wastin’ time.”
“Can’t you sleep. I missed you.”
“Yeah, man. What a day. You ready for some heavy thoughts?”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“I’ve been going over all the lying and deceptions we’ve been through here. Y’know, the girls, drinking, and the whole thing with the sheriff. I feel like a criminal.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“My only excuse is my age. I’m still a juvenile. You know Willie uses those guys ‘cause they walk as juveniles if they get caught?”
“Really? I thought it’s ‘cause Wayne’s such a hot driver.”
“True, But Willie’s just using them. I now see everything from a different perspective. It’s like last year. I go crazy on vacation. You’re so smart to split today.”
“I just felt like a coward.”
“No way. You did what was right. You’re the only one to get out of harm’s way. Just like when you almost got run over by the boat; it was my fault for challenging you to race in the dark. I’m just too hot-blooded and crazy.”
Scott puts his arm around me.
“You still saved my life. Since then I’ve never had so much fun. I don’t want it to stop because you suddenly get a conscience.”
“Do you really think you’re a fag?”
“What? I don’t know or care. I love you and want you always. You showed me I like fucking girls. Maybe you’re thinking too much about it.”
“Would you be jealous if I had sex with other guys?”
“You planning to be a gay slut? I care so much about you. I just figure we’ll grow up, end up marrying girls, but we’ll always be best friends. Until then we’ll do what we want to do with each other. Sex just happens, especially around you.”
“More than you know,” I sigh. “I’m going to tell you what really happened today, so there’s no deceptions between us. Just don’t get mad ‘cause it don’t mean nothin’. I just want to tell you everything.”
“Okay, and what’d y’all do?” and he laughs.
I hug him so tightly that he has to squirm.
“The reason the cop found the car is ‘cause Floyd and Wayne took me into the woods to rape me.”
“Those guys are fags?”
‘The way they see it, it’s okay to fuck someone who’s gay. They call ‘em sissy boys.”
“Like in Deliverance, huh?”
“Pretty much. They got all drunk on moonshine, jumped me and pulled my pants down.”
“It was two against one. What could you do?”
“I fought enough for it to be a standoff, with my back to a tree. Except by then it was three guys with three hard-ons. I was turned on, thinking I was going to be raped.”
”So you guys all got it on?”
“They couldn’t handle thinking they really wanted it. They jumped me again, but this time I pinned Wayne down. I pulled his jeans down and started fucking him. Floyd was beating on my back. Then Floyd mounted me. I felt like the meat in a sandwich. I got Wayne off with my hand. As he came his butt got me off and my butt got Floyd off, all pretty quick. Then we heard the police radio. Then, what I told you before took place.”
“Shit. I always miss out.”
“You think it’s cool?”
“Sure. You guys had a three-way. I wonder how it would have been if I was there.
“Man, you’re getting weird, too. I doubt they’d have jumped both of us. They don’t even consider themselves gay. I thought you’d be jealous even though it didn’t start out consensual.”
“Why? Are you in love with them now?”
“Well, maybe Wayne’s butt a little bit.”
That sets us wrestling around on the dock. I soon feel Scott’s hard-on.
“Shit. I’m gonna git raped again.”
“I guess it’s your day.”
“I thought you’d lost interest in me.”
“I just don’t get so horny when I’m around my family.”
“I thought you were going straight.”
He tries rolling on top. I push him off. Then, grabbing him, we roll into the water. As we come up, I pull his shorts and Speedo down. Taking a deep breath, I go down on his hard-on under water. When I suck his dick in, he stiffens, spasms, and I feel his dick throb and taste his sperm. It takes about fifteen seconds. When I come up, he holds me while I catch my breath.
“That’s exciting,” he finally says.
“You went off like a rocket.”
“Yeah,” he gasps. “Four, three, two, one, and blast off. You need to get off, too?”
“Naw, you just owe me one.”
“Tim, I want you to go for it anytime you’re horny. How could you think I’d be jealous? Thanks for telling me the whole story. I want you to love me. That means trusting me with everything.”
“I feel so much better telling you. I got caught up with all these lies and withdrew.”
“I promise to never let you go off without me. Next time you may end up with someone gross, although I doubt it. We’re such sluts we do it with anyone.”
“What if they’re fat?”
“It’s like doing it in jello.”
“You fall in and drown.”
“Crushed by quivering mounds of fat.”
We smile together.
“Butt lust buddies,” he pinches my butt as we walk up to the cabin.
After breakfast we’re siting around when a vehicle drives up. It’s the Sheriff and Cheryl Ann.
Scott whistles, “She sure pushes it.”
“I’m getting that feeling again, Scott. I don’t like these deceptions.”
“You’ll be okay. Just act innocent.”
Mrs. Watt answers the Sheriff’s knock.
“Mornin’ Missus Watt, Sheriff Tom again. My wife and I want to inquire as to how the boy is today.”
“Com’n in, Sheriff. Let me get coffee for the two of you.”
Turning around, she yells for us. “Scott. Tim, get down here. You’ve got company.”
We both instantly appear and stand in the kitchen door, while Mom entertains the guests.
“Howdy, boys. How y’all doin’ Tim. Still shook up about yesterday?”
“No, sir. I feel fine today. No more hitch hiking, though.”
“Good boy. My wife wants to invite y’all to the Friday Night Social at the Grange Hall tonight. It’s a country good time, if’n y’all wants to come.”
Cheryl Ann pipes in, “It’s mostly square dancin’, but if y’all want to help me and Lee Ann, we can dance to records between the fiddler sets.”
“Like a sock hop?”
“Sure. Tom here has a fine collection of 50s and 60s singles, If y’all help out, I’m sure we can git all the young’uns to dance.”
“How’d ja know we like oldies?” Scott asks.
“Just a wild guess. Y’all be sure ta tell yer friends at the general store. We’ll really rock tonight.”
Sheriff Tom’s grin means he’s pleased that Cheryl Ann is excited about the plans.
“We’ll be glad to help,” Scott volunteers.
“It’s good family entertainment, so we hope y’all attend, including you and the mister, Missus Watt.”
“Thank you. I’m sure we’ll all be there.”
“By the way, Tim, we found that car from yesterday. It had been stolen from the garage in town.”
“Did you arrest those men?”
“No. It was abandoned. Don’t you worry about those men. You gave good descriptions. We’ll git ‘em. Just don’t go wandering around by yourself. You and your brother stick together.”
“Yes, sir,” we both answer.
After they leave, Scott and I sit at the end of the dock. I start to laugh, mostly from nervousness. Scott says I acted totally normal.
“What a laugh, ‘cause I don’t feel normal no more.”
“Just ‘cause you’re a two timing, moonshine running, police lying, child molester, don’t feel bad.”
“Yeah, remember me. I’m under age. So is Lee Ann. And don’t forget Wayne. If we really investigate, it’ll probably turn out you molested every child in all four counties. A serial molester.”
“And since you’re my best friend, you’re probably my biggest victim.”
“No doubt. You must do it every night after I’m asleep.”
“Actually, what you’re remembering is Stu. He’s my new protégée. I have him practice on you.”
“You seem to enjoy it.”
“You really are twisted.”
We run up to the house, grab Stu, and drag him screaming to the dock where we throw him in the water. We stand there laughing at him below us.
“What I do? What I do?”
“It’s disgusting. Tell him, Tim.”
Winking so only Stu sees, I say, “I told Scott what we’ve been doing to him in his sleep.”
“Oh yeah, and you love it, Scott.”
Scott dives in, catching him in a few strokes. It isn’t much of a match, so I jump in on Stu’s side, turning the tables. Stu mocks Scott as I hold him back.
“You keep saying, ‘Do it again, do it again.’”
“You’re both gross.”
But we love it, especially Stu.
After lunch, we ride to the general store. I ride on Scott’s handlebars, as my bike is still stashed in town. The boys are hanging out at the soda machine. Once they see us, the hooting and hollering starts. They all know the story about our escape from the cops. They fill us in on the conclusion. Floyd and Wayne ditched the car, once they made their delivery. They claim the cop’s bullets creased their long hair.
“Y’all sure y’all ain’t confusing that with the skid marks on yer shorts?”
‘Yeah, like y’all wasn’t shittin’ when ya fainted in front of the pig?”
“Academy award performance, man.”
“Saved yer butts,” Scott pipes in.
“The Sheriff says they found the car in Charlotte.”
“Not much sense drivin’ round a shot-up Charger. Draws the long stare of John Law.”
”Y’all got plans tonight? Cheryl Ann told us to git yer asses to the Grange Hall social.”
“No way. That ain’t nothin’ but a buncha ol’ folks.”
“She says we’re gonna play some rock n roll. Y’all gots to come.”
“She’s got y’all pussy-whipped.”
“Ya got that right.”
“Well, we’ll all show, if’ jist ta harass yer asses.”
My bike is just where I’d left it. Not much market in North Carolina for stolen bicycles, even among thieves. Truthfully, even though my bike is only a year-old, it’s so thrashed, it is not worth anything. But I’m glad to have it back. Riding double with Scott was hard on my much-abused ass.
While going through our typical hair styling and fashion choices, Scott and I sing, “A white sport coat and a pink carnation…I’m all dressed up for the Prom.”
Lyrics © BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
Instead of the normal white tees, we’re wearing white dress shirts with our least worn jeans. With wet, combed hair, we think we look slick. Stu looks like a miniature version of us and is excited to be going. First we go out to a fried chicken dinner at the usual restaurant. It tastes so good. Arriving at the Grange Hall just after dark, the girls are waiting for us outside.
“Y’all’s late but this is perfect. All that’s happening is the square dancin’. Com’n, we’ll teach y’all.”
They drag us into the hall. Scott and I are breaking up laughing, as the girls try to lead us through the steps; we’re always a half step behind. The oldsters ignore us stumbling youngsters. Sheriff Tom waves at us, from his place of authority by the front door. After a couple of bumbling dances, the girls lead us to a side office where they have a small stereo and a huge collection of 45 oldies. We quickly thumb through the collection and pick out our favorites, with the girls acting as censors. No black singers are allowed, but we still find plenty of dance songs. Once we’re set up, we go out to the parking lot where Floyd’s gang is drinking moonshine.
“Havin’ a good time, boys?” I ask.
“Pretty much as expected.”
“Y’all gots to come inside once the records start.”
“Sure ‘nuff, boss,” Wayne pipes in. “Y’all wants some moonshine,” Wayne offers us the bottle.
“I pass. It tends to git me in too much trouble.”
We return to the girls. The fiddlers are finishing and ready for a break. Sheriff Tom gets up and announces there will be special dance break for the young people. We roll out the stereo, and Cheryl Ann gets the microphone. About ten kids, Stu’s age, gather in front of us.
“Y’all listen up,” she starts. “We’re gonna rock, so git out here and dance.”
The older people, looking dismayed, move to the back of the hall. Floyd and his boys are watching from the doorway, waiting for something to happen. About twenty kids are standing in a semi-circle in front of us now. I take the mic, switch on the stereo, and announce, “This one’s for you, Cheryl Ann,” and play the Beach Boys, ‘Fun, Fun, Fun’…
‘”(You walk like an ace now, you walk like an ace)
She makes the Indy 500 look like a Roman chariot race now
(You look like an ace now, you look like an ace)
A lotta guys try to catch her
But she leads them on a wild goose chase now
…And she’ll have fun, fun, fun Till her daddy takes the t-bird away.”
Songwriters: Love, Michael Edward / Wilson, Brian Douglas
Published by Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
The girls start clapping to the beat, so Scott and I do our best Coasters imitation, dancing in step. We all sing the chorus, just not into the mic. The next record is Freddie Cannon’s ‘Palisades Park.’ I grab Stu and throw him around to the words: ‘Up, like a roller-coaster, down like a loop-de-loop, run like a merry-go-round.’
CLARIDGE MUSIC CO.
The other kids start spinning each other around. I dedicate the next song to Floyd and Wayne, ‘Double Shot of your Baby’s Love.’
Their mouths drop open when Scott and I do double pelvic thrusts to each other during the chorus. Some girls are even doing the jitterbug. Floyd picks out Johnny Cash’s ‘A Boy Named Sue.’,
but is too shy to make a dedication, to my relief. It’s too country for dancing, so everyone stands around and sways. Lee Ann puts on Leslie Gore’s ‘My Boyfriend’s back’…
“You’re gonna be sorry you were ever born
(Hey-la, hey-la, my boyfriend’s back)
‘Cause he’s kinda big and he’s awful strong
(Hey-la, hey-la, my boyfriend’s back)
Feldman, Bob / Goldstein, Gerald / Gottehrer, Richard
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O APRA AMCO
Cheryl Ann runs up to Sheriff Tom and strokes his biceps, while sneaking a look at me. Everyone sings along to ‘the Name Game,’
Elliston, Shirley / Chase, Lincoln
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Before it is over, Wayne yells out “Chuck,” to which we all rhymed ‘Chuck, Chuck, bo Buck, Banana fana fo fuck, …Chuck.’ Someone yells out for the Beatles, which we don’t have, it being America, so we all sang ‘Sgt Pepper’ into the microphone.
’It was twenty years ago today,
Sgt Pepper taught the band to play,
everything’s done in style,
just so you can smile,
let me introduce to you,
the one and only Billy Shears.’
Songwriters: LENNON, JOHN WINSTON / MCCARTNEY, PAUL JAMES
Published by Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Then Scott takes the microphone and sings solo, …’What would you think if I sang out of tune, would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ears and I’ll sing you a song, and I’ll try not to sing out of key. I get by with a little help from my friends. I get high with a little help from my friends.’
At the word ‘high,’ Scott points at Floyd and crew and motions them up to the microphone. Gathered all around, we all sing several more verses. Eventually every young person was in a big circle, arms around each other. Finally we break out into applause and cheers for ourselves. Sheriff Tom looks the happiest with one arm around Cheryl Ann and the other around Lee Ann. I’m next to Cheryl Ann and Scott next to Lee Ann. Stu has his arms around Scott’s waist. We all move in one rhythm. I look over at the Watts. Mrs. Watts has been smiling through tears since Scott did his solo. Mr. Watts is beaming. The other older people just stare in amazement. Finally we break apart into little groups. Sheriff Tom asks Mom how she likes country life.
Scott and I walk outside with Floyd and Wayne.
“I want to kill y’all ‘bout ‘double shots of love’,” he threatens.
“What about ‘A Boy Named Sue?’” I shoot back
“Just payback, sweetheart.”
“Y’all be glad we’s leavin’ tomorrow?”
“Sure nuff. Y’all is fun fer City Boys.”
“How’d ya know we was from the city?”
They crack up, “’Cause all y’all say is y’all this and y’all that. Takes more’n a few words ta be country.”
“Don’t take that much ta be friends.”
“Just some moonshine and a romp in the woods.”
“Next time, we’ll let y’all be the bottom. Right, Wayne?”
He just grins at me.
“Y’all come back now.”
The girls are waitin’ inside the hall door.
“Sayin’ goodbye to the boys?”
“Yeah, we had some good times up here.”
“Y’all gonna miss us?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?”
“Y’all knows what I mean.”
“Y’all can stop with all the y’alls. We know yer from Miami. And that’s not the South.”
“Good thing yer married. I’d be mighty tempted to fall fer y’all.”
“There ya go again, bein’ what ya ain’t.”
Scott has already pulled Lee Ann outside for a more physical goodbye.
“Well, thanks for a great time.”
We look into each other’s eyes. I can’t detect a bit of deception.
“We’ll miss you boys. I hope y’all don’t think I’m a wanton woman.”
“Wantin’ more, maybe, once I’m gone.”
She gives me a big hug, then with one eye on Sheriff Tom, a quick kiss. Scott comes back, with his shirt rumpled and a tell-tale bulge in his jeans. I feel cheated in the goodbye category.
“Y’all look like yer ready to stay a while,” I observe.
“Might even become a good ol’ boy.”
“Well, we’s good to ‘em, both girls and boys.”
“Lee Ann says to give ya a big kiss goodbye.”
“I’ll take it later.”
“Don’t want Wayne ta git jealous, do ya.”
“Everything’s tied up. All these deceptions won’t mean nothin’ once we head back to Miami.”
We started singing the Righteous Brothers’ ‘You’ve Lost that Lovin’ Feeling.’
After which the locals all slap us on the back and say we were ‘some righteous entertainers.’
We go back inside the hall, say goodbye to Sheriff Tom and leave with our folks. At the cabin, Stu joins us down on the dock, where we reminisce about our stay here. Stu is leaning on Scott’s shoulder, with Scott’s fingers running through his hair until Stu falls asleep. We carry him upstairs and put him to bed. Then we walk along the lake shore, not talking. The quiet is deafening. Once we were far enough from the cabin, we sit and beat each other off. Lying on our backs afterward, we gaze at all the bowl of stars in the dark sky.
“It never rained once while we were here.”
“Just about everything else happened.”
“Will you be glad to get home?”
“I have to face my dad. He never gave me permission to come.”
“You gonna miss your mom?”
“Not really. I never told you, but she takes lots of pills to avoid dealing with my dad. She just wasn’t all there.”
“You want to stay at my house.”
“No! Well, sometimes, but I want you, in my bed, in my house, in my heart. You know I can’t stand being away from you.”
We hug and he says, “I thought I was the one so dependent on you.”
“I need you needing me. That’s a constant. I have a place with you. This whole life we created up here will just vanish tomorrow. It’ll seem like a dream, not real.”
“I won’t leave you, Tim.”
Then we jump each other, having real sex, not just masturbatory release. We walk back and sleep wrapped tightly around each other. There’s plenty of room for Stu to slip into our single bed when he wakes up. We tell him to not be so gay. We pack and are on the road before noon. The three of us make a special area in the back of the station wagon. We do doo wop rhymes and whistles until we get to Georgia. After eating dinner, I call home. Dad answers.
“Hi Dad. It’s Tim.”
“You ready to come home yet?”
“We should get in tomorrow night. Not too late. Can you hold dinner until Scott and I are there?”
“Yeah, my best friend. From the swim team. You saw his picture in the paper, remember? He’s been living with us since May. I’m with his family on vacation. Right, Dad?”
“Why’s he living here? His folks don’t want him?”
“No, Dad. It’s how we want it. I’ve stayed with them for the last two weeks.”
“Well, I’ll have to talk with Susan about it.”
“This isn’t a discussion. You both are moving in. I’m not changing how I’ve been living. You act like I’m doing something wrong.”
“No. I just don’t like surprises,” he argues.
“Well, don’t surprise me with new rules and restrictions. It’s not fair to Susan to put her in the middle of discussions. Don’t you want us all to start off on the right foot.”
“You’re acting like I have no say.”
“Dad! This is not the time for an argument. Do you want us home for dinner tomorrow, or should I just stay with Scott’s family?”
“Susan and I are going out. We’ll leave you guys food, if you need it.”
“Thanks Dad. I miss you.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
Strange and stranger.
I go back to the motel room, but Scott isn’t in our room. I find him in the coffee shop, talking with an older man. He’s getting picked up. I walk up to them.
“This is Fred. He’s from Charlotte.”
He carefully looks me over, then figuring I’m safe, too, propositions both of us.
“Y’all wanna come back to my room and make twenty bucks apiece?”
“Com’n outside,” I tell him.
Once in the parking lot, I grabbed him by the collar.
“Listen, asshole, We’re both fifteen. It’s a crime to proposition us. Scott, go call the police.”
Scott just stands there, staring. The salesman turns white as a ghost.
“Here, stop. Take the money and forget it.”
He pulls out his wallet. I grab it, take out one hundred dollars and his ID.
“Get out of here, you scumbag. I’ve got your address and will turn you in if I hear about you propositioning kids again.”
I throw the wallet on the ground. He picks it up and scurries awkwardly away.
“Wow,” Scott exclaims. “How’d you know you could do that?”
“Joey taught me in New York. But why’d you let him pick you up?”
“I just thought he was friendly. I sat down and was talking with him. You were on the phone for so long, I got lonely.”
I laughed. “What a slut you are. Here,” and I hand him forty dollars.
“The slut scores. But how come you get more? He really wanted me.”
“You’re just the bait. Next time I’ll wait until he’s raped you. As your pimp I’ll keep all the money.”
“I wouldn’t have gone with him.”
“I know, Scott. I did the same thing last year in Virginia, except the guy chickened out when he found out I was fourteen. Don’t tell Mom.”
“That you’re a slut?”
He looks chagrined. We go back to the motel and watch TV, arguing with Stu about the channels.
In the morning we leave Georgia. After crossing into Florida, we get on the Florida Turnpike and start making good time. We pull into Dade County at 5pm.
“How about spending one last night with us, Tim?” Mrs. Watt asks.
“Thanks, Mom. But I told my dad we’d be home for dinner.”
“We?” Mr. Watt asks. “Does that mean Scott’s still staying with you? I thought we’d gotten our son back.”
“Com’n, Dad. You know I’m staying with Tim.”
“Well, are you sure it’s okay with his dad?”
“My dad knows, Mr. Watt.”
They were quiet for a while. Then he adds, “I’m not sure it’s best for you Scott, to spend so much time away from home.”
“Dad, look what’s happened since I met Tim. I’m State Champ, my grades are the best ever, I get along with Stu better – I even like him now. We start swim team tomorrow, so you know exactly what I’ll be doing. You act like I’m out of control.”
“Calm down, Scott. You can stay with Tim as much as you want. We just want to see more of you.”
Mrs. Watt adds, “Why don’t you stay with us more, Tim.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I answer. “And thanks for the greatest vacation of my life. I’m part of this family, so of course you’ll see us more. It’s just that with my dad and his girlfriend moving in, things are changing. Scott helps me feel normal. And it’s great to know you’re there for me.”
“Of course, Tim.”
Pressure, from two sides now.