We reached North Carolina by morning. The Watts rented the same lakeside cabin every year, on Lake Norman in Denver NC. The lake was huge, but man-made. It was isolated and uninhabited, while a nuclear-power plant was being built. The woods came right down to the lake, and you could see trees under water from when they filled the lake. It was intriguing, yet scary, like a horror film because it was so isolated. The town had one general store, with locals hanging outside beside the soda machine. I was looking for dueling banjos from ‘Deliverance.’ We had our bikes, so as soon as we arrived, the three of us rode into town. Stu tried to get a soda from the machine, going, “excuse me, ‘scuse me, ‘scuse me,” while the locals blocked him so he couldn’t quite get to it. Finally, he gave up, at which point the locals moved away and indicated we could spend our money. Stu was angry now, especially at us for not helping him. I went up, dropped in three quarters and got three sodas.
They smiled curiously, saying “Howdy,” back.
“Can I have one o’ dem pops?” the biggest one asked.
“Sure, if you got a quarter,” before realizing how glib I sounded. I added, “I’ll share some with you,” And offered him mine.
“That’s okay. I got a quarter.”
His friends started to laugh at him, so I said, “That’s okay. Here, take a hit, anyway.”
“A hit?” the other two both exclaimed.
“You know, a gulp.”
“Well, be sure you let us know when you’re sharing your weed.”
I walked back to Scott and Stu, handing them their sodas. They still looked apprehensive, so I walked 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’d be interested.”
“The other what?”
“Chasing girls, of course. My name’s Tim,” and I put out my hand, which they looked at, but didn’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 jumped 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 laughed. Scott and Stu came over, and we shared our sodas. Before we left, the skinny one, called Floyd, told 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 a car. And if you keep talkin’ so slick, one of the 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 came ‘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 rode back to the cabin, without talking. Finally Scott broke the 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 laughed.
“Well, are we going to meet them at the drive-in?” I asked.
“You got to be kidding?”
“Hell, they didn’t look like they were going to beat us up, after they fucked with Stu.”
“That’s what you think. You just walked up to them, calm as could be.”
“They’re no different than us, just different interests.”
“Like pot, and hunting, liquor and girls.”
“See, we share all 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 wanted to come, of course, but relented because we were going to chase girls. Mr. and Mrs. Watt were unsure of the concept, but allowed us to go to the drive-in. It was the part about going to the drive-in without a car that got their attention. We described Floyd and his buddies as upstanding members of the community. After convincing his parents, Scott was more enthusiastic about our adventure. When we got ready in the bathroom, he slicked down his hair and put on aftershave.
“Man, you’re goin’ t’attract all the mosquitos in four counties with that shit.”
“Where did you learn all these country expressions? Four counties?”
“Well,” I said real slowly, “Y’all don’t understand. I’m a country boy at heart.”
Scott grabbed 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 happy tonight.”
“You think I fuck good?”
Mrs. Watt started quizzing us over dinner about the movie. We didn’t even know what was playing, which worried her.
“Mom, it’s okay,” Scott defended 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. We’re going to sneak in the drive-in and hang out at the snack bar.”
“You’re not paying?” Scott had 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 looked 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 couldn’t believe what he said, or how he said it. Everybody just stared. So, he got up.
“Right. So it’s okay. Let’s go.”
He put his arm around my shoulder, and we walked out. By the time we got the bikes, we couldn’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 was still light out. We rode to the store and got directions to the drive-in. Scott’s slicked hair and aftershave were history by the time we got there. We ditched the bikes in the trees near the fence and waited for it to get dark. We sat there sucking on grass stalks being country…’a little bit country, a little bit rock n roll.’ It wasn’t long until we heard Floyd and company coming our way. We waited until they started over the fence, then yelled at them.
“Hey, you. Stop.”
They didn’t even look back, jumping the fence and running toward the back rows of the drive-in. We ambled directly to the snack bar and were waiting for them as they furtively came up.
“Hey, you. Stop,” I repeated
They looked at us in surprise, then broke up.
“It was you boys. You motha fuckas.”
“Now who sounds like a negro?”
Floyd walked 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 were five of them, all our age. Floyd made 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 spoke up for the first time.
“Well, what do you do?”
“Just chase girls, like we said today.”
“Well, this is 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 are done.”
Scott stood right behind me, while Floyd’s friend Seth backed him up as we verbally sparred. Floyd looked at his friends, then motioned 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 were one big group, sitting at a picnic table, yacking and yucking. We ignored the movie that played that night. Anyone who walked by was subject to catcalls and comments. The few girls going to the snack bar walked out of their way to avoid us, making our comments more derisive. Floyd was a talker, mostly the longtime local gossip about everyone, their cheating ways and out-of-wedlock births. It seemed unlikely we would even met any local girls. I thought about hanging out with my South Beach friends, how they checked me out without seeming to do so. It was fun hanging out, and the accent thing soon became natural. They had pot and whiskey but weren’t upset when we abstained. Finally, Floyd cornered Scott, making him take a swig off the whiskey pint. He almost gagged, but then took another swig and passed it to me. I took one mighty shot. My mouth and throat burned. It hit us simultaneously. I told 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, roared by, jeering and hooting at us as much as we had been harassing the snack bar patrons. We hooted back, even Scott. Right behind came a pickup with a shell over the bed, driven by two girls.
“Them girls by themselves?” I asked Floyd.
“That’s Cheryl Ann and her sister, Lee Ann. They’s seldom by theyselves.”
We watched as they parked along the side, far from anyone else.
“Whatcha think, Floyd. Those fine young ladies good potential?”
“Potential? Hell, boy, 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 visitors like ourselves might find a welcome spot in their hearts and other anatomy?”
“There’s no one stoppin’ ya from tryin.’”
“Com’n Scott. We got ourselves some potential.”
He looked dubious, but was game to follow my lead. We walked straight over to the pickup and proceeded to pick up.
“Howdy. My name’s Tim and my buddy’s Scott. We’re visitin’ town fer a coupla weeks and wanna meet some pretty girls.’
They giggled, then got out of the truck and sat on the tailgate, while we stood around and talked. We told them about ourselves, where we were from, what we did, how old we were, and then we sang 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 did the falsetto and Scott the baritone. It cracked them up. I could see in the corner of my eye that Floyd and the boys were going ape shit. The girls invited 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 whistled ‘Dixie.’ I knew 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 jumped into the pickup. With Lee Ann on Scott’s lap and me in the middle, we roared off in front of Floyd’s gang. “Bye boys,” we all yelled out. I could see Seth giving us the middle finger.
Cheryl Ann drove down a dirt road through the woods until we reached an overlook. The valley and lake below were dark with only an occasional light. The pickup’s cab was suddenly too crowded. Cheryl Ann grabbed a blanket from the back and led me down a path, about one hundred yards away.
Smiling I turned to her, “This is about the time the monster comes and eats everyone in the horror movie.”
“Don’t be scary,” she complained, pulling me closer to her on the blanket. I put my arms around her, rubbing up and down her back as we kissed. She arched like a purring cat from my massage. She ran 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 stuck her fingers under the top of my jeans. I popped open her shorts, pulling them and her panties halfway down her legs. She undid each of my Levi’s buttons, with cool assurance, until my hardening dick flopped out.
“Ah, you’re bigger than expected. This will be heaven,” as she lay back.
I slid her shorts all the way off, pulling my jeans off, too. Then reaching under her butt, I fingered both her ass and cunt simultaneously. I felt her get wet, and she started to moan. Pulling her butt forward, I mounted her in one thrust. She squealed like a pig, as I pumped her and kept massaging her ass. She was more than moaning and wrapped her legs behind me. She was practically gushing, wet and loose. I braced my arms on the ground, pumping in a regular rhythm, while she hung on with her legs locked on the small of my back. Her squeals reached a fever pitch as she approached her first climax. I pulled completely out, and then thrust deeply into her cunt. She squeezed and tightened on my dick as she came, while I remained deep inside her orgasming cunt. I began to pump again, with her juices soaking my groin and thighs. Her head thrown back and moaning, I continued my regular rhythm. I watched her throw her long blonde hair back and forth. This was great. I felt my dick was lifting her whole body off the blanket. Her fingers ran through my hair. The sweat and cum made our bodies slap against each other. Her first tentative squeal let me know she was beginning to climax again. I fucked her harder in the same regular rhythm. Her legs squeezed and released me. She was screaming each time I thrust. I went rigid inside her, as she squirmed on my dick. Getting her own rhythm, she fucked me back. Giving her the control made her cum again as I tensed in her contracting, screaming body. I hoped there were no farmers within hearing distance. As soon as she finished cumming, she rolled us onto our sides, with me still deep within her. She tingled from orgasmic pleasure, as she looked into my eyes.
“You’re incredible,” I said.
She shushed me and gave me a kiss. Then she rolled me on my back, while sitting on my dick which was bent straight up, inside her. Starting by squeezing her butt, I saw the determination on her face to get me off. I started slapping her buns as she rode up and down. She twisted my small, hard nipples until I started to squirm. I was rocking side to side trying to get away from the nipple torture, while she went straight up and down on my dick. I reached up and lightly stroked her nipples which expanded and hardened. Swinging her head and squealing, she bucked like a cowgirl on my dick. I couldn’t stand being underneath any longer. Pulling her down to me, we rolled over, and I began thrusting as deeply as I could into her. Her legs wrapped around me with her knees pulled up and her heels kicking my butt. She screamed more and more, as she reached her third orgasm. I knew she wanted me to cum, but my dick hadn’t done its backward turn yet. I wasn’t ready, but I started to breathe and moan like I was. I faked my orgasm as she reached her climax. As she calmed down from the shivers and shakes, I whimpered like a puppy. She stroked my forehead with kisses and whispers. We lay there panting, letting our breathing return to normal. My dick was still firmly deep in her cunt. From the distance, above the cricket and cicada noise, I heard Scott doing his cowboy yells that indicated he was riding his own bronco mare. We laughed.
“Scott’s as loud as you are.” I joked.
“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 stroked in and out of her. I had her attention. I got on top and just pumped her for several minutes, as her ass rolled back and forth with my action. Her breathing got into my rhythm and she wrapped her legs around me. Massaging both her breasts, I really looked at her for the first time. Her golden blonde hair was streaked with sweat and plastered against a long, thin neck. She had large, fleshy tits with wide, dark areolas and nipples that stuck out. I licked each one as her breathing came in short gasps. I started to thrust roughly, poking her cunt. The squeals started and she was fucking back with passion. Her squeezes enveloped my dick inside her, and we moved like waves. I let go of the concentration that was holding me back. Our bodies were in a dance, in syncopation with each other. Faster and faster we fucked. I held her cunt up off the blanket, while pumping her madly. My mind was singing the Doors’ ‘Love her Madly,’
my head thrown back, and no thoughts interfered. We reached a climax, with her orgasm ten seconds before mine. I pulled out just as my wad exploded, flying over her shoulders onto the blanket. I held her cunt against my dick as I came all over her stomach. Her cunt was throbbing in its own orgasm as she screamed her pleasure. Once we both finished our climax, I knelt beside her and stroked her wet hair. I heard Scott and Lee Ann still going at it. His screams had changed from the wahoos of a cowboy to the grunts of a worker moving heavy equipment. Some serious fucking going on in these woods. We laughed 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 realized I might have said something wrong, so I shut up. Finally.
“You must’ve cum four or five times. I knew you liked it.”
She turned away quickly.
“Now, what’d I say?”
“It’s just harder for me than you know.”
“Well, how old are you?”
“Twenty-one,” she looked 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 moved over and kissed me.
“Let’s go see what those perverts are doing makin’ so much hullabaloo.”
We got the blanket and walked back to the pickup. They were obviously in the back, from the motion and commotion going on. We sat on the grass and watched for a minute.
Finally, I yelled out, “It’s gonna fall off if y’all take too long.”
They stopped, Then Scott’s head popped out the back window.
“Hey, what’s happening?” I asked.
“You guys ready to go?”
“We are, but don’t let it stop you.”
“I can do this all night.”
A groan was heard from inside the truck.
“But, maybe, I better finish up, okay?”
We laughed and waved him away. Soon the commotion was an ocean as the truck rocked and rolled.
“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 yelled at the truck, “Scott, pull out, pull out!”
We ran over and banged on its sides. The motion just got stronger and Scott’s cowboy yells reached a pitch. The pickup shuddered and was still.
“Scott, did you pull out.”
“What,” he answered groggily.
We collapsed in laughter. He stuck 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 stumbled out of the back of the pickup, he pulling up his jeans, she looking much the worse for wear. We all piled in front. Scott couldn’t contain himself, starting to giggle and chortle. Soon we were a pickup of idiots, laughing all the way to the drive-in. I asked for their phone number, but they just shined us on. Off they rode in a cloud of 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 was ready to tell all, but I nudged him in the ribs to hold back.
“They was the nicest girls. We all just sat around and talked almost all night. Thanks fer pointin’ us in the right direction.”
“Y’all tellin’ me y’all went off with Cheryl Ann and her sister and y’all did notnin’ but talk? Y’all think I’m some kinda fool?”
“No, man, y’all’s some kinda friend.”
He laughed, and we were off the hook.
“See ya ‘round.”
“Yeah, see y’all.”
“You waited all this time for us to come back?”
“Sure did. We needed to know if you boys was up to the standards of our local girls. Y’all want another swig of whiskey?”
We both took swigs, which tasted terrible. They kept after us to tell them what happened, but we maintain our innocence. They finally left, noting we should go to the drag races on Sunday. We agreed to meet them at the store.
“What about the stock car races with Floyd?” Scott asked.
“We’ll go next time.”
“You guys are really hanging out with the hillbillies?” Stu asked. “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 was being graphic. Stu turned white and got quiet. I slapped Scott five. ”Good going, ace. You may have actually gotten him to shut up.”
We drove through town, and sure enough Floyd and the gang were hanging out. We waved to them, but they just stared back. Dinner was nice, fried chicken in a big, hall-like restaurant. People there were extra friendly, especially to paying tourists. I thought about Floyd working in the kitchen here in five years and twenty-five years later. When we got back to the house, the Monopoly board was brought out. Mr. Watt accumulated most of the property. The three of us ganged up on him and he went broke. After he was out, it became really vicious with each of us forming and breaking alliances; we finally gave up when it looked like Stu would win. We all went to bed by ten o’clock. Getting Stu to sleep by himself was not easy.
The next week flew by with lots of hiking, fishing, swimming, and horseplay. We saw Floyd’s crew several times, but they were not too friendly. We asked about the girls, but their response was noncommittal. We were back to being faceless outsiders again. On Friday afternoon, the three of us were riding on the deserted road between town and the lake. A pickup drove slowly by, then stopped. It was the fabulous Ann sisters. We started whistling the Eagles’ ‘Take it Easy,’ while we walked up to the pickup. They recognized the tune as we sang, “it’s a girl, my lord, in a flatbed Ford, slowing down to take a look at me…”
Writer(s): Jackson Browne, Delbert Mcclinton, Glenn Lewis Frey
Copyright: Music Corp. Of America Inc., Swallow Turn Music
“Who’s the little brother.”
“Oh, this is Stu. Stu meet Cheryl Ann and Lee Ann.
“Hi Stu, we’re sisters.”
Stu’s mouth dropped about a foot, and for once he was speechless.
“Well, I hope y’all grows up to be as sweet as yer big brothers.”
I asked, “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?”
“How about another song?”
Scott and I looked 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 finished, the girls were giggling and hugging each other.
“Y’all are a crack up.”
Then we did ‘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 did our best version of the Mashed Potato. Stu did the Wahtutsi while we sang a Capella.
“Well, what do y’all think?” I asked.
“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 looked at each other and broke 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 needed. Getting out of the pickup, they put their hands on their hips, shrugged their shoulders twice, and started 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 was our turn to crack up.
“What kinda love song is that,” Scott complained.
“Maybe we don’t know any love songs.”
They got 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 found 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 dropped. “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 was 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 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 chased him into the woods, until he fell off his bike.
“I hate you guys.”
“We love you, Stu.”
End of sex discussion.
That night, Scott and I sat on the dock, with our feet in the water.
“Seems strange not to have worked out for over a week.” I noted.
“Coach’ll make us pay.”
“I remember my first workouts with Coach Earl. I thought I would die. I’d go home, fall asleep at the table, and just barely get 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. 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 hugged 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 don’t need them. First my dad, now Mom 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 sat there, leaning against each other, just thinking and watching the lake.
I looked at him. “I don’t think I want to be normal. I want more than what is 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 gave me a sly smile that said he’d love to try. Then said, “Fuck yourself, if you’re so good.”
I jumped him and we rolled around until we fell off the dock, into the water. He swam away, taunting me to chase him, which I did. It turned into a race, until I could grab him by the foot. He turned on me, pulling me down. Underwater, we kissed long and deep.
Once we popped up, I said, “I was getting worried we were 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 need a fag to help you get laid.”
He took off, and we raced back to the dock. He beat me easily this time.
“Your doubts defeat you,” he proclaimed. He was learning.
The next afternoon we told Stu to stay home while we went to the store, hoping to see the girls again. Floyd and crew barely seemed happy to see us. We asked about the stock car races which got them going about cars. They described last Sunday’s Demolition Derby, the day we had ditched them. We talked 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 talked more than Floyd. From his fingernails, I could tell he was 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 be heard. But ol’ Leadfoot Jesse 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 asked.
“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 piped 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 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 piped in about highly exaggerated car chases and near brushes with the law. Each one had his own exploits to expound, heavily edited by the others.
“You think y’all could handle a muscle car on these roads,” I was challenged.
“Hell, the only car I ever drove was my mom’s station wagon when she got too loaded to drive.”
Scott’s eyes bugged 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 a man’s man yet.”
“We just want to 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 was the Ann Sisters. They slowly passed by. Scott and I grabbed our bikes, waved them down, threw the bikes in the back of the truck, and jumped into the cab. Lee Ann let Scott put her on his lap. We waved at the boys on the corner, who just stared.
“Well, howdy do, young ladies.”
“Where y’all goin’?”
“To pick y’all up .”
“ Now where?”
“To your house?”
They looked at each other and smiled.
“Well, are yer folks home or sumthin’?”
We drove into the countryside to a nice brick house on its own lot in the woods. As soon as we were there, they started taking off our clothes, so we pulled off their tops and jeans. They started 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 were.
The girls kept giggling and hugging each other, so we moved in on them together, prodding them like sheep with our stiff dicks. They were hysterical, clutching each other.
“Let’s all four of us do it together,” Scott suggested, squeezing Lee Ann’s tits, while prodding her with his dick.
Both of them hid their faces in their hands and looked shocked, but we knew they were thrilled. Cheryl Ann led us into her bedroom where there was a king-sized bed – perfect. I grabbed her, while Scott was on top of Lee Ann. Soon the bed was really rocking as we went up and down in the same rhythm. I reached over and held Scott’s hand while pumping away. We were holding hands, while the girls really got into it. Soon Cheryl Ann started to squeal, and as soon as she let out her first scream, Scott started his cowboy yells. After listening to this for a few strokes, I pulled out of Cheryl Ann, pulled Scott off Lee Ann, and we switched partners. The girls were so horny they didn’t complain, putting their legs around each of our waists and holding on. Scott soon had Cheryl Ann squealing too. I concentrated on Lee Ann until I had her ready to climax. Her squirming and breathing reached its peak while Cheryl Ann’s squeals became grunts and moans. They both orgasmed simultaneously. Scott and I high-fived. Who says missionary position doesn’t work. I could tell he was about to cum, so I quickened my strokes into Lee Ann, to which she responded with tighter squeezes. She had a tight little pussy that barely took all my dick. Our increased pace brought Scott even closer to climax. I felt my dick do its upward turn and rode her toward the finish. I pulled her butt off the bed, fucking her from my knees. Scott got on his knees and we put our arms around each other as we pumped our orgasms. Cheryl Ann was squealing as high as ever, and even Lee Ann was grunting. I pulled out just before cumming. The first spurt of jism flew across her stomach, then I geysered cum, again and again. Scott pulled out, and his jism hit Lee Ann in the face as he leaned toward us as he came. The sisters were laying side-by-side, arms around each other, as we continued to cum. We were a tight little fuck bundle of four. They squeezed our waists until we stopped cumming. I went down on Lee Ann and started to eat her pussy. Scott hardly hesitated. Soon they were experiencing long, sustained orgasms together. With their pulsating finally over, I looked over at Scott; we both had white, pussy juice mustaches. We laughed and laughed. Then I heard a car door slam.
“Someone just drove up, Cheryl Ann.”
“Shit, it’s my husband.”
“Yeah. Y’all’s gotta go now.”
She ran into the living room and scooped up our clothes, while Lee Ann pushed us into the bathroom. All of us were in there, when the front door slammed and a voice boomed out.
“What y’all doin’, Cheryl Ann?”
“We’re in the bathroom. I’ll be right out, honey.”
She whispered we were to get the hell out of there, pointing to the window. Lee Ann said to hide under the window, and she would let us know when the coast was clear.
“What about our bikes? They’re in the pickup,” I whispered.
“We’ll bring ‘em by the store later. Now git!”
We leaped bare-ass out the window, waiting in the shadows for the signal to run for the woods. We heard someone enter the bathroom and start a stream hitting the bowl, knowing it wasn’t the girls. We looked at each other like desperate men. At last, Lee Ann leaned out the bathroom window, pointing for us to run for it. Scott stood up and kissed her, then she hugged me. We took off for the woods. Looking back I saw her laughing at our little white butts high-tailing it across the lot. She waved at me to keep going. We dove under a tree, looked at each other, and broke up.
“Married? I gonna kill Floyd,” I gasped.
Scott became hysterical. I had to gag him for fear he would be heard from the house. He clutched me, and we rolled around on top of each other. We were covered in dirt. We put our clothes on, then lay watching the house, hoping the husband would leave.
“Can you believe what we just did?” Scott remarked.
“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 jumped on top of me.
I could feel his hard-on pushing against my butt. I bucked like a bronco, while he held on. Soon he was humping me. I rolled over so both our dicks were rubbing each other through our clothes. I pulled his shorts down, as he removed mine. Our dicks were sticking out the top of our orange Speedos. My hands pulled his butt into me. He leaned back on his knees, and I slid 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 swallowed it whole and started giving me vigorous head. I moved up and grabbed his dick with my knees.. He started to pump me while continuing to give head. I let my dick race past it’s point of no return. Before cumming, I pulled out of his mouth. The jism spurted onto my chest while he licked my balls and dick. I pointed it straight up and jism geysered onto his face and into his hair. I slid far enough down to take his smelly dick into my mouth as I finished cumming. I sucked as hard as I could, and he came instantly, down my throat. We jerked and spasmed in unison, finally slowing and stopping. He looked like the wild boy from Borneo, naked, covered with dirt, and face streaked with wet cum. I am sure I looked just as bizarre. We started laughing again.
“We’re just sex machines.”
“Yeah, perverted sex machines.”
And he started 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 were fucking his wife.”
“No, you were fucking his wife.”
“Are you sure?”
“We were both fucking his wife.”
The whole idea of fucking someone’s wife was too much like fucking someone’s mother. It seemed too weird.
“He’s still at the house. Let’s get out of here.”
We put our clothes on and headed through the woods toward the road. We started walking in what we thought was the direction of town. We were filthy, as well as sweating through the dirt. A truck drove by, slowing, and then stopped to ask if we needed a ride into town. When we got into his cab, he looked at us funny but didn’t say anything. I realized we smelled 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 looked at each other in amazement. The driver knew we were late and offered 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 ran to the dock, threw off our tees, shorts and shoes, and dove into the water. We washed each other off while treading water. I couldn’t believe how filthy we were. We walked into the kitchen after leaving the dirty clothes in the laundry.
“Don’t you be dripping on my clean floor,” Mrs. Watt warned. “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 manipulation.
Stu followed us upstairs without a word. After showering, we were changing into fresh clothes.
Sitting on a bed, Stu asked, “Does getting laid make your dick bigger?”
We looked at him, at each other’s dicks, at our own dicks, and finally back at him.
“We’re just naturally big,” I told 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 chased him downstairs to dinner. After eating, we were stuck at the cabin without bikes.
The next morning, we hitched a ride into town, and sure enough, Floyd’s gang was outside the general store.
”Y’all go to the drive-in last night, boys?” I asked.
“Does a bear shit in the woods? Where was you boys last night, or, do I gotta ask?”
I grabbed 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 cracked up. Making even us smile.
“Y’all have a bit of difficulty over there last night, boys?” Floyd was hanging a foot off the ground but able to josh.
“Nothin’ we couldn’t handle.”
“Well, y’all wouldn’t be the first boys runnin’ bare-assed into the woods.”
Scott and I exchanged glances and laughed.
“Maybe y’all should call the sheriff ‘bout yer difficulties,” Wayne suggested, and again they all broke up 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, my 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 ended abruptly as they jumped us, pushing and generally abusing us. We pushed back, but not too fiercely.
“You studs owe us all sodas,” Floyd declared, “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 asked.
“’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 changed the topic, “I got the garage keys. Let’s get that ’55 Chevy sittin’ in the shop.”
Scott looked worried about joy riding. I just indicated to cool it. Then our favorite pickup drove up, beeping its horn.
“Y’all better git over there, boys. The long arm of the law be callin’.”
The girls looked 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 blushed, and they laughed.
“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 pulled them from the back, then walked back to each side window. I reached in and gave Cheryl Ann a long kiss. Once Scott saw me, he did the same with Lee Ann. Afterward, the girls switched and gave us both kisses. Scott’s feet were off the ground from being pulled into the cab. Whistles and hoots erupted from the general store.
“Guess we’re startin’ some gossip. Sorry.”
“It’s under control. You boys are worth it.”
They drove off in a cloud of hot dust. We pushed our bikes back to the boys.
“Wheee-uw, you boys are fire crackers.”
Another round of good ol’ boy pushing and shoving erupted.
“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 piped 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 got on our bikes and rode over to the town garage. Being Sunday, no one was around. Wayne opened the roll-up door and led us to the back. Under a tarp was 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 whined.
“That’s no issue,” Floyd rebutted. “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 turned the key, and as the engine warmed up, all seven of us jumped in. With the slightest touch on the gas, the souped up engine roared, especially loud inside the garage. With squealing tires, we screeched out to the street.
While Wayne went to lock the door, Scott asked, “Does he have a license?”
All of us, including me, pommeled him on the head.
“’Course not. We’re all fifteen. Just shut up.”
We drove to the speedway, pretty much under control. Once in the parking lot, Wayne had to show off. We cruised the lanes of parked cars. Anytime there were young girls, we’d slow to a crawl and gun the engine. A couple of times, we got in noise duels with other hot cars. Wayne challenged everyone to ‘drag,’ giving them the two finger ‘V’ sign to his lips. I expected to see James Dean and Natalie Woods, with Sal Mineo in the back seat.
We parked. Wayne and Floyd continued to challenge other drivers. We followed them as they repeated the rounds of the lot on foot. Finally, a guy and girl in a ’69 Dodge Charger, blue with custom flames, accepted the challenge. It would take place after the stocks were done, on the main road by the raceway.
We watched the gate where the cars were being let in and out. Floyd went up to the guard, talking to him while we snuck through with a car. Then the guard let Floyd in for free.
“Y’all gots money?” he asked me.
“Go buy us some beer.”
“They ain’t gonna sell me beer. I’m fifteen.”
“You so sure, y’all go try.”
He was right. I came back with seven beers. The next time Scott and I came back with fourteen. They were only 50 cents each. It tasted a whole lot better than the moonshine, especially on a hot afternoon. By the time my twenty bucks was spent, we were wasted. Scott was letting out his cowboy yells, like he was still riding Cheryl Ann. We had our arms around each other, wandering around with Floyd’s gang, who handled it better than we did but were still feeling no pain. Wayne was oblivious to impairing his abilities for the upcoming drag race. We watched the races, leaning up against the track walls and yelling as the modified stock cars raced by. The demolition derby had plenty of crashes as the junkers went through the circle-eight course, in elimination heats. Finally, one demolished Pontiac remained, making its victory lap.
We all stumbled out the main gate to the parking lot. Wayne had a serious look on his face, as he checked out the Chevy. An older teenager came over and warned Wayne not to do it, being Willie’s car and all. Wayne told him to shove it. Then he told Floyd to ride shotgun. Scott visibly relaxed, realizing he didn’t have to ride in the race. We lined up by the raceway entrance, which was the finish line. The two cars slowly cruised down the road to a distance of one mile. Most of the raceway crowd was lined up on both sides of the road. Scott and I were arm in arm at the finish line. We could hear in the distance, the two cars’ engines roar up and down as they prepared to start.
It was dead quiet for about five seconds, then both cars roared and screeched forward, tires burning rubber. It was too far away to tell who had the lead. Closer and closer they came. Finally we saw that Wayne was falling back as they reached top gear. Then we saw and heard an explosion and flames momentarily burst from the four barrel carburetor on the Chevy’s hood. Wayne went by the Charger like it was standing still. He flew across the finish and circled back as we surrounded him. The Charger’s driver jumped out of his vehicle and charged through our group around Wayne and Floyd.
“You cheatin’ hunk of shit. Y’all didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout no nitro injector.”
“I didn’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 went by yer sorry asses.”
They stomped away as we all high-fived Wayne and Floyd. We piled into the Chevy and took a victory lap around the parking lot. They take their stock car racing seriously in North Carolina.
Wayne drove like a mad man back to the garage. We washed the Chevy carefully, so it didn’t look like it had been used. We had a water fight that went on for twenty minutes, with control of the hoses passing between fighting parties; everyone was soaked. Wayne put the Chevy in the garage and replaced the tarp. Just as we were about to close the doors, an El Camino drove up.
“Cool it,” Floyd warned. “It’s Willie.”
We shut up and stood in a soggy group by the garage door.
Willie stomped 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 had my car at the track taday. I trusted ya with them keys. Now give ‘em back.”
Wayne handed over the keys, looking really chagrined. He started to apologize, but Willie cut 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 hustled out. Floyd turned and shouted to Willie, “Wayne stomped Curly’s Charger, Willie. Ya shoulda seen it, yu da bin proud.”
Wayne grabbed Floyd, pulling him away as Willie shook a tire iron and looked ready to chase us. We took off running, with Willie shaking his fist at us.
“He’ll calm down by tomorrow,” Floyd predicted.
“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’s worth it.” Wayne agreed.
“We gotta go,” Scott announced.
“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 asked.
“Maybe yes, maybe no.”
“Well, count us in.”
They just stared as we rode off. We knew we still weren’t fully part of the gang, but we did now fit in. Scott rode his crazy zig-zag all over the road. It made me remember we were pretty drunk. When we got to the cabin, we rode right to the dock, threw off our clothes, and dove into the lake. I got him to race me about a quarter mile from shore. We lay there floating and horsing around before racing back. The water sobered us up, at least we thought so.
Mrs. Watt called us up to the house while we were drying off.
“We’ve been waiting for you boys to go out to dinner.”
“Great. Can we go to the chicken place again?” Scott asked.
“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.”
I thought Mrs. Watt would have 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 sighed. “Now get changed. We’ve been waiting on you to have dinner.”
Stu followed us upstairs, and Scott told 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 corrected his brother.
I sat watching the two. Scott and Stu were so alike but would never admit it. Now Stu was correcting Scott like his mom did.
We drove to the restaurant. I was starved and ate most of Scott’s food as well as mine. He, on the other hand, was beat and almost fell asleep at the table. We all ate apple pie. Once we were back at the cabin, Mrs. Watt came 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 was up before Scott. He was still beat and slept 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 paused. “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 seemed 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 responsibile, 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 came over and hugged me, which felt good. I even forgot we’d been busted for the beer. She sat 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 in trouble. I like living in Miami. It’s the first place I really felt was 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 had no life.”
“When is she moving?
“She’s probably already gone.”
“You mean she moved while you’re here?”
Mrs. Watt looked at me and gave me another, longer hug. A vague sadness crept up my throat. I almost cried, without really understanding what my feelings were. Stu walked into the kitchen.
“What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Tim’s just missing his mom.”
“Well, you’re his mom now,” he matter-of-factly stated.
He came over and hugged me too.
“Thanks, guys,” and I shrugged them off and brushed away my almost tears.
Stu watched me carefully, afraid to admit I could 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 hugged Stu, which is what he wanted, and then he was crying, too. I felt really lucky to have such good friends.
Once Scott was up and had eaten a humongous breakfast, we went off with Stu to explore the woods. We spent the whole day playing King of the Mountain and swimming in the lake. Before dinner, we rode into town to buy sodas. No one was around, so we went to the garage, where Wayne was back to work, pumping gas. He indicated we should hide at the side of the garage, finally coming over once he had 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 a’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 made when ya drank 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 rang, meaning another customer had pulled into the station.
“Gotta go. See y’all tomorrow.”
“Hot drivin’ yesterday, Wayne.”
“Thanks,” he grinned and spat out tobacco juice.
Stu watched him spit and looked like he’d 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 rode to the cabin, abusing Stu all the way. He was just happy to be with us again. The next few days passed with little word from Floyd. Then on Thursday morning, Wayne said to meet Floyd at the store at noon. After much complaining, Stu rode 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 waited by the general store. The days had 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 were wearing old jeans, white tees and no shoes. We looked so much like the locals that tourists stopped to ask directions. We mostly told them they couldn’t get there from here. Finally Floyd walked up and spit.
“Why y’all so hot to go on a run?”
“Just for the thrill,” I shot 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 took one look at us and complained, “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 walked us around the back where a beat-up Charger sat. Willie gave Wayne a map and directions. We piled in the back, with Floyd riding shotgun. Wayne gunned the Charger out of town, over back roads to a deserted field in the woods. We walked about two miles and came to a camp that reminded me of the burned-out Viet Vet’s hooch in New England. A grizzled old man in overalls came 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 loaded up wooden cases filled with moonshine bottles, each of us carrying three. We had to stop to rest a couple of times before reaching the car. The cases filled the trunk and half the back seat. Scott and I were sitting on top of cases covered by blankets.
“Shit,” said Wayne. “Y’all’s too tall. It don’t look natural, with ‘em sittin’ that way. Can’t y’all scoot down?”
We tried, but it was obvious we were sitting on something. Scott volunteered to stay back, if we’d drop him in town.
“We gotta see Willie anyways, so that’s cool,” Floyd agreed.
We bounced along the country road back to the garage, Wayne claiming he had to get the feel of the loaded car. Willie came out and got himself a case of moonshine. Scott tried to tell me I should also stay back, but I was too excited to miss out. We took off with all three of us up front.
“You ride pussy, boy.” Floyd ordered, so I got in the middle.
He pulled out a bottle and each of us took a swig. It was vile, but I got an instant buzz. We shared several swigs. Then I turned on a country music radio station. I started tapping the dash to the music’s beat. When they played ‘One Toke Over the Line,’ we all sang the words.
Then Floyd told Wayne to pull over on a deserted stretch of road. We all got out, with Floyd motioning Wayne to keep quiet. I watched for a second.
“What’s up,” I asked.
“Com’n into the woods with us,” he ordered.
We walked a ways without talking. Finally he turned 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 tried to explain, knowing I wasn’t 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 was like a signal with Wayne grabbing me from behind and Floyd tackling me from the front. We wrestled around, and although I was bigger than either of them, they soon had me pinned on my back. Wayne sat on my chest, while Floyd pulled down my jeans.
“She-it,” he whooped. “Jist like she said, orange panties.”
He pulled my jeans and suit all the way off.
“I got meself a souvenir,” he crowed, waving my Speedo over his head.
Wayne twisted around to look. I was able to throw him off me and jump to my feet. They
chased me to a tree, where I stood my ground.
“Look at that dick,” Wayne pointed. “He’s hard as a rock. Woo, is he hung.”
“Look at your dicks,” I pointed at their jeans. They both had 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 suggested.
I moved toward them, but they weren’t about to admit how much they wanted to fuck. Floyd charged me again, and soon all three of us were wrestling on the ground. I pinned Wayne on his stomach, reached around to undo his jeans’ buttons, and pulled them and his underwear down to his knees. Floyd was trying to pull me off him. When I mounted Wayne in one thrust, I felt him give in underneath me, as I pumped him in and out. Floyd was flailing on my back, until I reached around undid his jeans. I felt his dick flop out on my pumping butt. I spit in my hand and covered his dick with saliva. He quickly mounted me, while I continued to fuck Wayne. All three of us were one humping, pumping fucking machine. I reached around and grabbed Wayne’s straining hard-on, stroking it in the same rhythm Floyd used to fuck me. As I stroked his dick, Wayne started to moan louder and louder. I could feel his dick strain with the load he was about to pop. I stroked him faster and faster, with Floyd’s fucking motion rocking me in and out of his butt. Wayne convulsed. I could feel the sperm shoot out his dick. His butt squeezed and squeezed, as he came, sending my dick past its point of no return. Once Wayne finished, he totally collapsed with both of us on top of him. Almost cumming, I pumped him furiously, with Floyd just riding me. I tensed inside Wayne, while Floyd started his final pumps in my ass. As I came, my butt squeezed Floyd’s dick, driving him to climax too. We pumped until we were dry, Wayne on the bottom, Floyd on top, and I was the center of this fuck sandwich. As we finally fell apart, Floyd became as alert as a guard dog, telling us to shut up and be quiet. In the distance, I heard a two-way radio.
“Shit. The cops found the car.”
We got our clothes on in a hurry. Floyd wasn’t about to give up my Speedo, so I didn’t complain. I guess sex trumps fear of cops. We snuck back to the car, keeping behind bushes and trees. Once near, we saw a police cruiser parked behind the car, with the officer inspecting the Charger. He obviously saw the moonshine. Floyd was 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 held them up. Floyd looked at me, putting his hand on my shoulder.
“Can y’all lie good?” he whispered.
“If’n I have to.”
“Good. Now listen here. Circle around so as y’all comes up to the car from the opposite direction. 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 looked sharply at me. Then we both smiled.
“Yeah, almost. Jist give ‘im fake descriptions.”
“Okay, well here goes.”
I backtracked through the woods, coming out on the opposite side of the car. Before I could see the cop, I started running through the brush. When he came into view, I yelled and waved until he looked up. Then I fell down.
Lying there as he picked me up, I mumbled, “They’re after me. Help me,” over and over.
“Where are they, boy?” the cop asked.
“They’re chasing me.”
Suddenly, the Charger’s engine roared to life. With tires squealing, Wayne and Floyd took off. The cop ran back toward his cruiser, pulled out his revolver and fired off six shots. I heard a window blow out, but Wayne kept going. The cop got on his radio and called for back-up. In a couple of minutes, he came back to where I was lying (literally and figuratively). He had a soda which I gulped 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 looked me over, noticing the dirt and rips to my jeans and tee shirt from the fighting. The seat of my jeans was wet from Floyd’s cum that had slithered out my butt while I was running. The cum smell verified my story.
“Did they rape you, boy?”
“They were trying, sir, but I got away.” I tried to show defiance and that I was covering up my defilement.
“Y’all is very lucky,” and he put his arm around me to lift me up. I sobbed momentarily, then straightened up. Walking to the car, he asked where I was from. I told him I was visiting Denver with the Watts. He got on the radio and set up 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 asked for descriptions, which I made up. Several more cop cars arrived. I heard that the boys hadn’t been caught, even though roadblocks were set up. They asked if I wanted to go to the hospital. I said I was okay. I was given a pair of jeans, way too large, so mine could be used as evidence. I had to hold the new ones up. When the Denver sheriff arrived, I was mortified to see Cheryl Ann sitting beside him. She ran 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 came 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 didn’t say another word. Now I had 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 was stroking my hand and leg, solicitously, and I had another hard-on. Luckily the over-sized jeans hid everything. When we pulled up to the lake cabin, all the Watts came running out. Scott was white as a ghost.
“He’s had a pretty bad scare, ma’am,” the sheriff said. “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 got our information in case he needed to contact us in Miami and then left. Cheryl Ann gave me a friendly hug, while Scott kept his hand over Stu’s mouth.
Once they had gone and Mrs. Watt had given me a long hug, Mr. Watt gave us a lecture about not hitch-hiking. I assured them I was okay. Then Scott and I went down to the dock. We tried to shoo Stu away, but since he knew Cheryl Ann was one of our girlfriends he blackmailed us into including him. He swore complete secrecy. Scott was being protective and maternal, which I fully played 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 was a lie?”
“Pretty much. Don’t look so shocked. It was part of the run.”
I told them the details without the rape part.
“Man, I feel so bad not going with you,” Scott rationalized.
“It was kinda cool, but I hate lyin’.”
I felt badly about leaving Scott out of the whole truth, but I knew it would be worse if he knew. He may even have been jealous. I hoped Wayne and Floyd had gotten totally away. The cops must have the car’s license number. I knew we’d find out the next day.
Continued at: https://timatswim.com/tim-at-swim-chapter-7-part-2/