Castle Roland

Affair of a Foreign Nature

by Hans Schreiber


Chapter 2

Posted: N/A


Mom shook me gently by the arm until I slipped out of my dream and into foggy reality. The room was still dark and it took several attempts by Mom before I comprehended what she wanted. Finally, it dawned on me that the day I'd been waiting for was here. Once I realized it, I scrambled out of bed and carefully stepped over Ricky, who was sleeping soundly on the floor. I smiled as I thought about the fun we'd had before going to sleep. His revelation about jacking off with me in his head had left me speechless and I still didn't know how to think about it. It was weird to think about since he was like a brother to me.

I pulled on the warm-up pants and a t-shirt I'd set out for travelling in. I picked up my backpack and stuffed Ricky's present into the middle pocket. I ate a bowl of Cinnamon Crunch on the way to the airport. Mom and dad both drove me to LAX. I was equally excited and nervous. I'd flown a couple times, but never this long before. I was especially nervous going through security check since I was all alone. Mom and Dad helped me confirm my tickets and I got boarding passes for the whole trip, which Mom insisted I put in a zipper pouch along with my ID. Before getting in the security line, Mom gave me a big hug and Dad put his arm around me and gave me a squeeze. After I got in the line, Mom walked along the whole way just outside the barrier giving me instructions on how to behave and warning me to be careful on the slopes. I was relieved when the line made a switchback and I could just wave goodbye.

When I got to the scanner thing, I forgot to take my shoes off and people got impatient with me as I pulled them off and then had to go back and get another bin to put them into. After that, I had to go back through the metal detector twice because of my belt buckle. It sucked and I was kind of nervous, embarassed and upset. I hate feeling stupid in front of other people. I waited for my stuff to come down the conveyor out of the machine and was noticing the tip of my big toe poking through a small hole in my sock. I wiggled it and it poked through a little more. I felt subconscious all of a sudden as if everyone was staring at my toe. I slid my other foot over it while I waited. When my pack finally emerged from the machine, I reached for it but the big guy in the blue shirt took it before I could. "Is this your bag?" He asked.


"Get your other items and meet me over by that table," he ordered.

I was getting really nervous now. I grabbed my shoes, belt, iPod, laptop and phone and walked over to the table. The man put rubber gloves on and the last time someone did that in front of me it was a bad experience and my stomach churned even more. He started digging through my pack. He pulled out my Hardy Boys book and flipped through it. He looked at my snowboarder magazines and set them aside. I glanced over and saw a kid about my age, maybe a little younger, sitting on a bench across from the inspector putting his shoes back on and watching me. I figured he was glad this was happening to me instead of him. I was wishing just the opposite. Next, the inspector guy pulled out my 3-pack Trojan2Go condoms, held them up and looked at me with a little grin as he set them aside. The boy across the way, who'd been watching so intently, burst into a smile, grabbed his stuff and trotted off. I could feel the heat in my face. I looked back at my toe and wiggled it some more. I took my shoes and bent down to put them on but the inspector guy told me not to, so I just stared back down at my escaping toe.

Finally, the inspector pulled out my birthday gift from Ricky. "What is this?" he asked.

I started freaking out inside. I'm sure it showed, even though I tried my best to act cool about it. "Just a thing my friend gave me."

"Who is your friend?"

"This kid named Ricky where I live. It was for my birthday," I said. I knew from reading about interrogations that you had to use as much truth as possible to sound convincing.

"What is it?"

"A deodorant stick," I said simply.

"Odd gift."

"He's an odd kid." That was totally true.

The inspector popped the lid, spun the dial and lifted the deodorant piece out and peered inside then tipped it toward me. "Do you want to explain?"

"Okay. It's a camera. Ricky's into electronics. He gave it to me, really. It's not a bomb or anything like that if that's what you're thinking." I was really scared now. The look on his face was stern.

"Follow me." He gathered up my belongings and stuffed everything in my pack except the deodorant case and my ID. Those went in a separate box. I grabbed my shoes and wished I'd worn socks without a hole in them. Seems odd for me to worry about that again, but it's what popped into my mind.

He led me to a small office and told me to sit down. The door locked behind him. Soon, two men walked in scowling. I was trembling and couldn't stop. Suddenly, my excitement about going to South Tyrol was gone and all I really wanted to do was just go back home.

"Name?" The short guy in the bright blue shirt asked as he sat behind the desk.

"David Williams," I volunteered. "I don't have a rank or serial number."

The man at the desk looked at me and frowned. The big guy moved over next to me and folded his massive arms. I don't know why I say such stupid shit when I get nervous. I was just trying to lighten it up a bit. Humor was obviously the wrong approach.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly.

He made no acknowledgement of my comment or apology. "Where are you travelling to?"

"South Tyrol, sir." I decided full respect was the better approach to take.


"I'm visiting a friend there. He invited me to come and stay for a week."


"Umm, I told you, David Williams, sir."

"Not your name, the name of your friend in South Tyrol." His tone of voice implied I was an idiot.

"Oh, umm, Karl Baumgartner."


"I don't remember it, but it's at the Hotel Tyrolier. They're sending someone to pick me up at the Innsbruck airport. His dad runs the hotel or something." I decided full disclosure was critical at this point before the big guy broke out the baseball bat.

He sorted through my stuff. He turned on my iPod, my phone and my Mac asking me for passwords each time and browsed through each one briefly. He held the condoms up and asked. "What are these for?"

I almost said, "You really look old enough to know." But, my brain engaged in time for a change and I said, "Umm … you know." I waved my hand over my crotch and added, "in case I get lucky?"

The big guy snorted out a stifled laugh but snapped immediately back to composure. The desk guy's expression did not change.

He opened the box and pulled out the deodorant camera. He held it toward me. I started mentally cussing Ricky for giving me this stupid gift and myself for bringing it to the airport.

"What is your purpose in having this device?"

"I don't really have one. It was a gift. I brought it along to play with it and learn how it works," I honestly stated.

"So, make it work for me now." He set it on the edge of his desk. I picked it up and pressed the center of the adjusting wheel on the bottom of it as Ricky had shown me. I held it up an arm's length away from my face and wiggled my eyebrows, then pushed the button again to turn it off.

"I think it needs to be plugged into my Mac now to download and view the video." He slid the Mac over to the edge and I pulled the USB cord out of the middle of the case and plugged it in. Soon the device was recognized and I gave permission for the download. Two videos were in the "My Spy Cam" folder on my Mac. I unplugged the camera and turned the laptop sideways for all of us to see the screen and double clicked on the second and smaller file of the two. My face popped up and began wiggling its eyebrows, then faded to black.

"What is the other file?" The man asked.

"I don't know. Ricky must have put it on there," I answered honestly. I double clicked on it and, sure enough, Ricky popped up.

"Hey, dude. Happy Birthday. My butt wants to sing you a song." He spun around, pulled his shorts off his pudgy butt and grabbed both cheeks. He started wiggling them and singing,

Happy Birthday to you,Happy Birthday to you,You look like a turd,And you smell like one too.

This was followed by a rash of giggling before fading to black. I, of course, faded to bright red. I was so embarrassed.

The guy behind the desk was finally smiling in spite of himself.

"All right. You can go after we search your person." The desk guy said. "Stand up." I stood and the big guy came over and pulled my arms up shoulder high and patted me down all over. He even pushed my warm-ups and boxers up into my crack and copped a feel of my balls. He stepped away and I tugged at my pants to clear out my crack.

"By the way, if you happen to get 'lucky,' you better not even think about secretly videoing it. Doing so in most places in the US and Europe would be an illegal activity. Luckily, you arrived well in advance of your flight. If you go straight to your gate, you will still make your flight." Well, the idea of secretly videoing myself having sex with a hot Euro-chick had never occurred to me before he said that, but I liked the idea. I would have proof to show guys back home and my status would go off the charts. Of course, obvi, I'd have to encrypt and bury it deep on the hard drive somewhere to get back home safely.

I put my shoes on and stuffed everything haphazardly into my backpack and headed out the door being held open by the big guy, who'd just violated all of my personal spaces. I thought of half a dozen smartass comments, but luckily, my brain engaged in time to stop me.

At the gate, the attendant knew to expect me and she interrupted boarding to let me in. The old lady right behind me was annoyed about letting me in, so in the walkway thing I let her go in front of me and that seemed to make her happy again. A steward met me at the plane's door and guided me to my seat. He said his name was Eric. I was in the second row right next to the boy that had been staring at me in security. He smiled at me as I sat down.

"Hi. I'm John," he said with a small wave.

"Hey. I'm David." I was looking for my seatbelt and it was under his leg. I had to fish it out from under him and I brushed against his bare skin. He had on baggy, plaid shorts that were at least two years out of fashion.

"I'm going to Germany to visit my dad," John volunteered without being asked. "Where are you going?"

"South Tyrol," I responded, as I pushed my pack under the seat.

"Where's that?" He asked, wrinkling his brow.

"Just above Italy," I answered with the best thing I could think of to make it easy for him.

"Oh, cool," he said. "I'm going to visit my dad."

"Yeah, you said that."

"Oh, yeah. He's in the army. He's got two weeks off and I get to go stay with him there."


"Why are you going to South Troll?" He asked.

"It's Tyrol not Troll, but a friend invited me to go visit and go snowboarding with him."

"Oh, cool," John said. "I haven't seen my dad for a whole year."

"Wow, that's sad," I offered.

"Yeah, I miss him. But, it's gonna be so cool to see him." He looked out his window and then turned back to me, "I've never flown on a plane before, have you?"

"Yeah, a few times but not this far."

"Is it scary?" He asked.

"No. Actually, unless you're looking out the window, you forget that you're even in the air," I assured him. "It's pretty safe, I think."

I supposed the baggy shorts were probably some sort of hand me downs if his dad was in the army; they probably didn't have a lot of money. I resolved to offer to buy his headphones and snacks and stuff, if he didn't have the coin. I figured it would be an unbearable sixteen hours if he had nothing better to do than talk my ear off the whole time.

"So are you in high school?" John asked me.

"Yeah, I'm a freshman. Are you?"

"No, I'm in eighth grade," John said. "I just turned thirteen."

"I just turned fourteen yesterday," I added.

"Wow, we're 355 days apart. We're the same age for 10 days every year," John said without hesitation.


"I was born on the 10th, but a year after you, so that makes you 355 days older than me," he explained.

"Wow. You some sort of math nerd or something?" I asked. He just shrugged and looked out the window. I think I offended him. Didn't really mean to, I was actually impressed he did that so quickly. "Hey, I didn't mean to insult you, dude. That was actually pretty balls what you just did there."

He turned back and cracked a smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah. You're quick."

"I like math. I'm good at it. I think I can be an engineer someday for the army."

"Why the army? A good engineer can probably make major coin for a big company," I said, thinking he was setting his sights a little low.

"But, you can't serve your country that way."

"Right. Didn't even consider that."

The steward came by and explained that since we were traveling alone he would take care of anything we needed and just push his button if we wanted or needed anything. He also let us know the aisle seat was empty to Chicago and we were free to spread out if we wanted to. He gave us complimentary headphones for the music and movie. I started plugging my own headphones into my iPod but Eric told me I wasn't allowed to until we were in the air and he would tell us when it was okay.

"So, umm, do you want me to move over?" I asked.

He made a sad face and shook his head no. "I'd like it better if you stayed next to me." He was a sweet and seemingly innocent kid. I smiled back.

"Sure, I'll just move my pack under the other seat for more leg room then."

He jerked and grabbed my arm as we pulled away from the gate. "Relax. We're just getting pushed back. We're headed to the runway."

When the safety instruction started, we both read along on the card in the seat pocket. I think we were the only ones on the whole plane that did, though. The steward checked our seatbelts and we taxied to the takeoff strip. I love the feeling of the initial thrust on takeoff. John's face was priceless. He grabbed my arm and squeezed it. I snickered to myself. Finally, we reached altitude and leveled off and John released his grip.

"See, not so bad." I said.

"Sorry about your arm," he offered.

"No problem. First times for everything are always a little scary no matter what it is." I tried to make him feel a little better about being so nervous. I'm hoping for a lot of first time experiences on this trip.

After a bit, John turned to me and asked, "Why did the guy search your bags in the airport?"

"Oh, that," I said. "Well, they thought I had something dangerous, but it was just a mistake."

"What?" he pried.

"It was a gift from my friend back home. It's a spy camera."

He lit up. "Really? Can you show me it?"

"I guess." I pulled it from my pack and handed it over. He turned it over and over. He popped the top off and twisted the dial and took out the inner piece as if he had designed it himself. He fiddled with the wires and wrinkled his nose.

"Nice friend," he finally said. "He spent a lot of money on this. It's a nice assembly."

"You know about spy cameras?" I asked, surprised.

"Well not really, a little. I've seen them on the internet, but I know more about processors, and well, some about cameras for webcams. It's sort of a hobby for me to build my own computers and sell them to people my mom knows," he said. "Can I play with it?"

"Sure, but don't break it," I said.

"Lame hobby," I thought to myself.

He looked at me odd and said, "I won't break it."

"I can't figure out how he did such a balls job of putting the camera in the case without the lens being obvious," I commented, as I peered at the shiny label that covered the lens making it look perfectly normal. "I mean, I know he's good with this kinda stuff but that's like professional."

John looked at me questioningly, almost sizing up if I was messing with him or if I was serious. I guess he decided I was serious, which I was, and said as non-judgmentally as he could, "He didn't make that part. You buy it that way, with the lens already mounted, off the internet. Then you add the other components. And like I said, he spent a bunch of money on you. This is good stuff in here."

"Oh." I felt foolish. Of course, Ricky couldn't have done that professional of a job on it. The steward came by and said it was now okay to turn on our electronics.

"Can we try it out?" John asked, hopeful.

"Sure. Could be fun," I agreed. As John reassembled the camera, a large man with dark hair, dark complexion and very hairy arms walked up to and stood in front of our row to retrieve something from the overhead bin for the third time. He kept taking glances at us. I felt a cold chill whenever I looked at him. He had a bizarre tattoo on his wrist. It was a knife with a cross on the handle and a snake wrapped around the blade. The creepiest thing of all was that his pinky finger and the one next to it were missing, and he just had mangled stubs protruding from his hand. His eyes were black and cold. He was wearing thin, wrinkly, beige pants. He was making a small tent in his thin pants, experiencing a partial stiffie. Once, as our eyes briefly met, he reached down and gave his dick a squeeze. I was unnerved by seeing that done by a grown man. I'd seen it in the school hallways before, but not really by a man in public.

I took the camera from John and pressed the button to start recording. I held it in the direction of the strange guy, resting it on the tray table in front of me. When he walked away, after taking another, creepy, leering look at us, I pushed the button again to stop the camera and pulled out the USB cable. I pulled out and powered up my Mac and downloaded the video.

"Okay, new game to play," I suggested. "We take turns taking video of people on the plane and then the other person has to make up a story about them."

"Cool idea," John agreed. I clicked on the file and we watched the video I just shot.

"OOOHHHH," John said when it went to black, "He's a Russian mafia hit man. He's flying to Germany to murder the Chancellor. He lost two fingers when his cheap Russian hand gun exploded during a mission in Nicaragua. The tattoo is the symbol of the satanic cult he belongs to that drinks the blood of their assassination victims."

"Wow. You're pretty good at that," I said, impressed. There is definitely more to this little guy than I was giving him credit for. He's definitely not just some lame little kid. I prodded him, "But you missed his stiffie in his pants. I thought you'd say something about that."

"What?" John started giggling. "Replay it," I pointed it out and then he could totally see it. We both started giggling like little kids. I hope my laugh changes soon so I don't sound like such a dork.

"Okay, now your turn to video someone," I said.

"Hey, he asked, "what're the other two videos in there?"

"Oh, this one's just me showing the inspector at the airport that it really is a camera." I clicked on it and a close up of my face appeared, did the eyebrow thing and faded out.

"What's that one?" He asked.

"My friend, Ricky, being goofy," I said.

"Show me," he asked. I figured I would; it wasn't really that bad for another kid to see. I played it and John cracked up. "He's goofy."

John took the camera for his turn and asked me, "Can it be anyone?"

"Yeah, but they just can't know you're taping them."

He unbuckled his seatbelt, wiggled past me, and took the camera down the aisle. I watched him stop about eight rows back and set the camera on a tray table and kneel down to pretend to tie his shoe. Then he stood up and walked back to our seats. I was anxious to see who he had videotaped. When I clicked on the folder, a video of about a one year old baby boy, being held by his mommy, was entertaining himself by sticking his hand down her blouse. She would pull it out and shake her head and say "No, no, no, you naughty boy," and he would laugh hysterically and do it again.

I cracked up and thought a minute. "Okay, here goes. He's not really a baby. He's actually a mad scientist from Denmark who discovered a machine that caused his molecular structure to reverse and he used it so many times it took him back to being a one year old. Now he's travelling with his personal assistant, Frieda, who's taking him to see a colleague in Germany to try and figure out how to age him back to normal. Meanwhile, he's taking advantage of the opportunity to get away with what he's wanted to do for years and feel up his big busted assistant." John laughed so hard at this I thought he was going to throw up.

We each took several more turns and I did one on the steward, Eric. I think it annoyed him when I pushed his button for no real reason. We were getting up too much, he told us and we needed to stay in our seats. John asked if he could go to the bathroom and Eric said he could, of course, so after he made up some lame story about Eric being a terrorist, he took the camera for one last run. He had a mischievous smile on his face as he left. After quite a while, he came back and handed me the camera, still smiling.

"What?" I asked suspiciously.

"You'll see."

I downloaded his new creation and at first it was like, showing a floor and then a wall and then it was my turn to crack up. It was an image of John's bare, little butt and he was spreading his cheeks like Ricky had done and was talking to the camera, mimicking Eric, "I thought I told you boys to stay in your seats. If you don't behave, I'll have to spank you!" He slapped his ass several times like he was getting spanked.

The camera jiggled a bit and flashed the floor again and then the wall. Then, I don't know if he thought it was turned off, but it wasn't and when he turned around, it showed his little dick and balls and a small patch of brown pubes. He pulled his shirt up and pulled on his dick a couple times until a stream of yellow pee shot from it. He shook off the last drops, pulled up his shorts and then the image went dark as he gripped it in the palm of his hand to walk back.

"Oh no! Turn it off. Turn it off," he said, grabbing at my Mac. "That was supposed to be off after the butt part." I pulled the laptop away and let it finish, laughing hysterically. Seeing it was hopeless to stop me, he hurled himself against the bulkhead and threw a blanket over his head.

I made a copy of it in another folder, and then pulled the blanket off his head. "Dude, look, I'll erase it, okay." I let him watch as I hit delete and then he knew to make me wipe it, so I did that too. He was bright red with embarrassment.

"Don't be so embarrassed. It was a funny idea. It's not like I've never seen another naked guy before. You see guys in the lockers, right?" I asked.

"Not really, we don't shower at our school."

"Well, you've seen them like in changing rooms at a pool and stuff, though, I bet."

"I guess," he admitted.

"Well, then let's just pretend I happened to stand next to you going pee in a bathroom and saw it. No big deal, right?" I asked.

"I guess." He was warming back up and I think he was appreciative that I didn't tease and harass him about the little mistake.

"By the way?" I said with a smile, "Cute little dick you got there."

"Ahhh!" He said, making a face and throwing the blanket back over his head. I just laughed. Later, he came out from his shell to have lunch and watch the movie.

When the movie ended, we had to pack up the electronics, so we just talked the rest of the way on the descent. Actually, even though he's different from most of my friends, he's a lot like Ricky and is really a very cool guy. He's lived all over the place because of his dad, but when his dad went to Europe, he moved to southern California with his mom to be near his grandparents. It turns out, he lives close enough to me that he'll attend one of the other high schools in our league next year. We play that school in water polo every year and I've been to it a couple of times. We swapped phone numbers and agreed to accept each other as friends on Facebook.

It was a little bumpy on the descent and he grabbed my arm again. I reached over and put my hand on his bare leg just above his knee and gave a reassuring squeeze, with a smile. "Dont worry; its bumpy like this a lot when you land." He jerked again and actually cried out a bit when the wheels bumped sort of hard onto the tarmac.

We had a stopover in Chicago before flying on to Frankfurt. I had to change airlines in Frankfurt from Continental to Lufthansa for the short flight to Innsbruck. We asked permission from Eric to get off the plane and use the normal bathrooms, which we did.

Its an unwritten rule, at least in our high school, and I thought pretty much everywhere, that if you go in a boys bathroom and there is more than one open urinal, you never go stand right next to another guy. You always leave at least one vacant one between you whenever possible. So, I selected the end unit, next to the wall, a good 5 urinals away from the Asian guy doing a no-hander. I never stand next to a no-hander even if there isnt any other ones open. Id rather just wait.

So I was pretty startled when John followed behind me and parked himself right next to me. He just acted like no big deal in opening up his shorts all the way and pulling his dick and balls out the top of his boxers. His shorts were baggy and he had to widen his stance to keep them from falling to the floor. I never understood why some guys do that. The reason they put a fly in your pants and boxers is for the convenience of just pulling the important piece out, doing your business and quickly stuffing it back in. I had to pull the top of my warm-ups down since they have no fly, but I just pulled my dick out the fly of my boxers and left them in place. It made me sort of wonder, if the video on the plane was really an accident or if his reaction to it was just an act.

I did take another glance at his package since it was on display. Its a little smaller than mine and Rickys, but not much. Nice patch of pubes for a barely thirteen year old, though. He was glancing in my direction, pretty much straining for a peek.

I decided, "What the heck, let the kid get his curiosity filled." I know Im always curious about stuff and especially curious about checking out other guys dicks, so why wouldnt he be. I looked past him, and verified that no one else was watching us and after my stream ended and was just dripping, I quickly hooked my thumb in my boxers waistband and slipped it down along with my warm-ups. This exposed my pubes, entire dick and dangling balls. I tucked both waistbands under my balls, pushing them up a bit uncomfortably, and dropped my right hand in order to give him a full view of my set.

Hed stopped flowing but made no move to put things away. He was just holding his dick and looking at mine. He looked up at me, suddenly realizing how obvious he was being, I guess. I smiled and when I did, his face relaxed into a smile as well. I got one of my crazy ideas. Sometimes they worked out and sometimes they turned out to be a disaster. But, I seldom took time to think about which way they were likely to go before I did them. Such was the case now as I started slowly stroking my dick into a boner. I kept glancing over at him to see if he was freaking or not, but he seemed all fascinated by it, so I kept going. I needed it pretty bad anyway, I was pretty horned up.

He didnt copy my actions, but he got the same result. He was boned up a good three inches and he turned slightly toward me and away from the open area. A few more guys came and went while we stood there in the corner. We would look forward when someone would get a bit close but look back at each other when they left. The whole public exposure of it was wildly exciting to me and I was on the verge of climaxing in no time. Checking that I wasnt being observed by anyone but John, I surrendered control and slipped straight on into the balls on fire rush of my orgasm. I gasped in short, whispering breaths and my butt twitched. I felt that burning, flushed feeling as the first shot of cum hit the urinal. I wasnt used to using my left hand to do it with and it gave me some different sensations. That was actually kinda cool. I wanted to give as good a view as possible for John, so thats why I used my left hand.

After three good squirts, I stepped up closer and milked the ooze out into the ceramic urinal. John then tucked himself away and went to wash his hands while I finished draining my balls. I pulled things back into place and washed up too. I met him outside in the concourse and was curious if he would say anything. He didnt. He didnt quite know what to say, Im pretty sure. I really didnt know quite what to say either and thats unusual for me. It was awkward like last night with Ricky.

"Lets get some good snacks for the long trip over the ocean," I suggested as an ice breaker from the uncomfortable silence.

"Yeah, good idea," he agreed. We loaded up on chips and candy since we could get plenty of soda from our steward, Eric. John seemed to have plenty of spending money, so I didnt have to offer to buy for him. We flashed our tickets and got back on the plane. We settled back into our seats. I snagged my own blanket and a little pillow for the next flight. John already had one and I was a bit jealous of it on the last flight. I wondered if we would have someone sitting by us from here on. Turns out, we had the section all to ourselves again and that was great. The ugly, hairy dude was still on the plane and I avoided any kind of eye contact with him. He gave me the creeps.

Before the new people started loading, John got my attention. We had fallen silent, each absorbed in separate magazines. Mine was on snowboarding and his was some sort of military history thing. "Can I ask you something?"

I expected it to be about what just happened in the bathroom. "Sure, what?"

"How come you got rubbers in your backpack?" he asked, blushing a bit.

"You saw those?"

"Yeah, the guard guy held them up in the airport."

"Oh, yeah. Shit. That was embarrassing."

"So why did you bring them?" John asked again.

"Well, just in case. You know. In case I get lucky or something with some hot Euro-chick."

"Oh. I see," he said with a flat almost discouraged tone.


"Why, what?" he responded.

"Whyd you ask?"

"Just curious," he said.

"Yeah, I can tell youre a pretty curious guy. Hope you got all your curiosity satisfied." I smiled and he smiled knowingly back. That seemed to be just the right amount of something said. I know I felt better and the unseen tension between us since the bathroom seemed to slip away once I said something out loud. He got the message that Id done it for him, and more importantly, that I knew he was just being a curious kid, so no big deal. Well, I guess to be really honest, I started doing it for him; I really finished doing it for myself. It felt so good to shoot my wad and it was way exciting doing it in the public place like that.

I could tell he wanted to grab my arm again when we took off, but was afraid that he was looking too much like a wimp. Sensing his dilemma, I reached over and took his hand. He immediately squeezed it and closed his eyes. When he felt safe again, he released my hand and pulled away. "Thanks," he said.

"No problem," I said. I reached down and pulled out my Hardy Boys mystery, "The Secret of Hidden Lake." John looked over and grinned.

"Oh, thats a good one."

"You read these?" I was surprised. "I thought my dad and I were the only ones left on earth who read these."

"My mom got me started on them. Now, its a tradition that I get one for every birthday and at Christmas," John said.

"Cool," I said. We spent a good hour sharing our favorite Hardy Boy adventures. "Who do you like better, Joe or Frank Hardy? I like Joe better, because Im more like him, always jumping into things and figuring them out later. Frank thinks through things too much."

"No," John disagreed, "Franks the smart one who figures everything out."

Finally, we faded off when we got our dinner. After dinner, came a movie. They kept all the lights dimmed when the movie ended, so people could sleep.

"Wow! LOOK!" John said turning from the window. I looked through the window he was pointing through. I leaned over him to get a closer look and put my hand on his bare thigh as I did.

"Thats totally balls!" I declared. "Ive never seen anything like that." The image was a truly spiritual experience. The plane was flying just over an endless layer of clouds that were lit up in every shade of blaze orange, purple, gold, red and yellow from the setting sun. It spread across the entire visible expanse of the sky. We leaned in close to the window, cheek to cheek, to view the inspiring sight. We lingered there quite a while, mesmerized by the spectacular image.

Finally, I pulled away and put my tray up and stuffed my pack.

John looked at me and said with great emotion, "Ill never forget seeing that. Ever."

"Thats how heaven must look, I think."

"I know. I think so too. It was so beautiful and it was really balls sharing it with a new friend like that." I said.

John beamed and smiled wider than Id ever seen him do at the mention of the word friend. I guessed he didnt have that many.

Then I moved my seat back and settled in to take a rest. I pulled my blanket over me and fussed with the miniature, doll pillow they give you. I couldnt really get comfortable.

John was having the same problem. His head would start drooping and fall off the bulkhead into the window well, waking him up. I had nothing to lean against at all.

"I got an idea," I said. "How about, I put my pack against the wall. Ill lie down in your seat and lean against the pack for a pillow. You can move to the aisle seat and lay your head on my body."

It took a bit to get arranged, but soon we found a reasonably comfortable solution. He laid his head on his small pillow up against my ribs and his left hand under my butt and legs. His right arm draped over my thigh. My left arm was under me and my right arm was draped over his shoulder. We drifted off. I awoke to a weird sensation. It took a bit before it registered that I had a boner and John was tracing his fingers along it and over my scrunched up ball sac. As soon as I stirred, he jerked his hand away and held his breath. I decided to just ignore it. It made it pretty obvi, though, what I had sort of figured out already about him.

We slept a long time. They fed us breakfast and we started getting ready to land. We had a chance to talk a little more and I asked what branch of the army his dad was in. John told me he was in MI.

"No way!" I said, "Thats so balls. Id love to do that. Im in ROTC right now and Im going into the army for a while because I want to join the CIA or do something in Homeland Security. I totally wanna do spy stuff when I grow up. They tried to get ROTC thrown out of our school, but our principals a Vietnam vet and I helped him get a petition going and we went to the school board meeting with our parents and everything to keep it. I was even the spokesman in the meeting. Im really not afraid of talking in front of adults."

"Hey," John said, "You should meet my dad when we get off the plane. Hes meeting me right where we get out of customs. Hed think your story about ROTC is cool."

"Yeah, that would be awesome," I said. "Has he told you about any of his missions ever?"

"Nah, he cant really talk about it," John said, sadly. I was disappointed to hear that. Still, it would be balls to meet a real live military intelligence officer.

As we started our final approach into Frankfurt, I reached under the blanket and took Johns hand again. He squeezed it less this time, but he still smiled appreciatively at me. When we landed and were finally in our gate, it was exciting to hear them make the announcements in both English and German. Everything was so different. All the signs and people talking in foreign languages were fascinating to us. We gathered our stuff and lined up in the aisle. Eric, our steward, gave us lots of instructions about going through customs and helped us fill out our forms. I had to get my luggage at baggage claim and take it through customs here, even though I was going on to Austria. Then, I had to go find the Lufthansa counter and check my bag back in for the flight to Innsbruck. I had a little bit of a layover, so I had plenty of time to meet Johns dad.

It was all kind of confusing, but we followed the other people from our plane and waited for the luggage to start coming out. When the luggage carousel started up, I got a crazy idea. I jumped on it and sat on a suitcase that had been left over from the last flight and rode it around waving at everybody. Of course, a security guard and a couple of old ladies started yelling at me in German. I jumped off and the guard walked away grumbling. I kept seeing the tattooed freak staring at us. It gave both John and I the total creeps. Finally, the luggage appeared and we each grabbed the one bag we brought. Mine was kind of big because mom made me pack more than I really needed for a week.

We stuck together to get through the customs thing. It was way confusing and we got in the wrong line at first. People werent very helpful, even the workers. They just acted annoyed by us. I hate when adults treat me like that. Finally we got to the window and the man at the booth looked angry. I was reminded of the bad experience I had at LAX. I worried if they searched my bag and found the spy camera, I might end up in some prison with stone walls and moldy bread to eat. The man asked me like four times why I was coming to Germany and where I was headed and who I was meeting. Finally, I got through and it was Johns turn. He just whizzed right through. I dont get it. Maybe I look suspicious.

When we cleared the customs area, John started looking for his dad, but I didnt think he could come in this far and suggested we had to go out further by where you get busses and taxis and like that. We both walked down the corridor and out the security doors. This was definitely the main terminal area where anyone could be and so we started searching. Now we really did feel like we were in a foreign country. All the people and the shops were crazy. He showed me a picture of his dad, so I could help look for him. I had a while before I had to get on my Lufthansa plane.

After half an hour of walking up and down, we stopped in a McDonalds, bought a cheeseburger and fries and sat on a bench. There was actually beer on the drink list at Mickey Ds and that cracked us up. I tried ordering it, but the guy at the counter just shook his head.

"Where could he be?" John asked, on the verge of tears.

"Dont worry," I consoled, "Hell show up. Maybe he just got stuck in traffic or something."

"Maybe. But hes never late. He hates it. Were always early to everything, cuz he plans for stuff like traffic. I cant believe hes not here. What if he doesnt come for me?" Panic was welling up in his voice.

"Cmon, youre talking crazy now. Why wouldnt he come?" I said.

"I dont know. Im just scared kinda. What if he got sick or hurt or something else bad?"

"You got a phone?" I asked.

"Yeah." He brightened. I could see it was like "Why didnt I think of that." He pulled an older, flip phone from his pocket and a little notebook from his carry-on. "I have to dial 001 then my number." He sat there anxious to talk to his mom and find out what was going on. Soon, the sad scowl replaced his hopeful look.

"It says I have no service," he said. His voice was shaking.

"Let me try." I carefully dialed the number and got the same message. "I think you needed to set this up for Europe. Like some phones, you have to swap the SIM card. We checked with AT&T and they said they use the same system as Europe, so mine should work. Let me try. Oh, except I can only call my home and the hotel Im going to stay at. Mom didnt want me running up a big bill calling my friends from over here or getting texts from them, so she had them restrict it. I can only email my friends on my laptop. Maybe, my mom can call your mom. But then Ive got to go check in at Lufthansa or Im gonna miss my flight."

"Youre not gonna leave me here alone, are you?" John pleaded. He was struggling not to cry.

"No, dude. Ill miss my flight if I have to. I wont leave you," I promised. But, I was getting worried now that we might both end up stranded in the airport. I dialed and it rang. I was relieved to hear my moms voice. "Mom. Its me David."

"David? Why are you calling so soon? Is something wrong?" Moms can sense stuff like that. I explained about John and his dad not showing up. I gave her the number for Johns mom and she said she would call and see if she could figure it out.

"What should I do about my flight? I have to go to Lufthansa but I cant leave John since Ive got the phone and his phone wont work over here," I asked.

"If his dad hasnt met you by now, I guess he should go with you to Lufthansa. If there is a help desk around, give them Johns name and let them know he is looking for his father and that you are going to Lufthansas check-in counters," mom suggested. Moms always know what to do.

I hung up and told John to follow me. "Dude, look over there in that bar."

"Its him."

"Do you think hes watching us?"

"Nah, its just a coincidence. Youve read too many Hardy Boys books." John laughed. The joke helped ease our tension.

We reported Johns situation and they made a note on their computer system. Then we got directions to Lufthansa. Fortunately, it was in the same terminal, but we had to go from section A to section B. We trotted as fast as we could, using the moving sidewalks and dragging our bags behind us. We had to wait about twenty minutes in the Lufthansa counter line. Just before we got to the counter, I heard my name over the loud speaker. At first I didnt catch on that it was me, but the second time, John and I both looked at each other. The voice blared out for Lufthansa passenger David Williams to proceed to a Lufthansa ticket counter.

"Hey, thats me I said waving from the line to the ticket agent lady directly in front of me. They just called me on the loud speaker. Im David Williams." She motioned for me to get out of line. John followed. I gave her my paperwork and she typed it into the computer.

"Yes," she said, "Is this John Randall?" She pointed at John. He looked stunned that she would know his name. He nodded his head, indicating that he was, in fact, John Randall. "There is a ticket to Innsbruck for you as well. It has been arranged for you to travel with your friend. The message says to tell you that your father will meet you at your final destination. It says that you should not call or tell anyone else that you are traveling there."

She took our bags and gave us a blue pass to use to go through a special security line. The look of total relief on Johns face actually moved me. I felt little tears of joy for him building up in my eyes and I turned away to wipe them quickly on my t-shirt sleeve.

"Wait," I said. "I need to put something in my checked bag." I pulled the spy camera out of my backpack and stuffed it in my checked bag. I didnt need to go through that again here. Besides, things were getting a little dicey and I didnt need any more complications. Actually, I was sort of loving the whole deal, except for how worried John was. It was all kind of balls, what with his dad being an MI agent and all. My imagination was going wild.

"This is kind of wild," I said. "Its like a spy novel. I bet your dad is on some kind of mission and he couldnt come because of it. So when we get to Innsbruck, hell be there and take us with on his secret mission to crack some code or break up some covert enemy plot."

"Yeah." John didnt share my enthusiasm over the idea.

"Actually, Im sure your mom and my mom worked it all out and whatever hung your dad up will be all resolved by today or tomorrow latest," I suggested to make him feel better.

As we neared the security entrance, we were stopped short by another creepy, tattooed guy. He stepped right in front of John and seemed to come out of nowhere. In a heavy, unrecognizable accent that we both had to concentrate really hard on to understand him, he said, "John, there you are. I have been looking for you. I was sent by your father to pick you up. Say goodbye to your little friend and come with me now." He reached to take Johns arm, but john pulled away. The hair on my neck was standing up. It wasnt right. It didnt feel right.

"I dont believe you," John said boldly. "Let me see your ID."

"Just come with me. Your father is Arthur Randall from US Army and he will not be happy if I dont bring you to him. Come now or we will both be in big trouble." John wavered a bit, uncertain.

"But I checked my bag. I have to go get it back," John said. I caught on and agreed with him.

"You did what? Where are you going to? You are to stop here. You are meeting your father here." The man said with confusion in his voice.

"Whats with that tattoo on your wrist? Ive seen it before," I asked.

"Shut up, boy. This is of no concern with you," he snarled at me. He grabbed Johns arm and I decided it was time to follow my mothers anti-abduction advice and started screaming to make a scene.

"HELP! This man is hurting us. HELP! HELP!" His large hand collided with my face and sent me sprawling. He started to drag John off, but a police whistle sounded and cops appeared from every corner. The creep tossed John to the floor and ran. He was tackled and quickly dragged off in handcuffs. Another officer gathered John and I up and escorted us through security and directly onto our plane. Once we were seated, my heart rate started to slow a bit. John burst into tears. I pulled him against me and held him while he cried.

"Whats happening?" He cried. "Whats going on? Im scared."

"Hey, well figure it out when we meet up with Mr. Baumgartner in Austria. Hell know people we can call to sort it all out. Maybe, your dad will be in Innsbruck when we get there like the ticket agent lady said," I comforted.

I pulled the blanket over our laps and gently rubbed and tickled his bare thigh with my right hand, while I held him around the waist with my left. It always used to make me feel better as a little kid, when my mom or dad would tickle my leg or back to comfort me.

He stopped crying as hard and just sort of sniffled and trembled. A large Austrian woman sat next to us and paid us no attention, so I kept to Johns side of the seat for the entire 1 hour flight. We didnt really talk much. We just leaned against each other, stared out the window, sipped our cokes and ate the weird cheese snacks they gave us in silence. It was a very comfortable silence, though.

He seemed to like it and didnt mind that I let my hand creep further and further up his baggy pant leg. Like I said, sometimes I just do things and dont think about them first. I inched my fingers all the way up and brushed against his soft, crinkly balls and felt the downy fibers of his pubes. Other than to look down and tug the blanket slightly higher, he gave no other reaction. Emboldened, I maneuvered my hand onto his dick. I glanced over and made sure the enormous Austrian woman was still sleeping. She was and she also provided a perfect blockade from others.

I gripped and squeezed his stiffening dick in my fingers and rubbed my hand over it. Then I ran my fingers through his soft, silky pubes and tickled the right side of his ball sac. John closed his eyes and smiled in blissful satisfaction. I cupped my hand over it and rubbed slowly, rhythmically over the sensitive underside of the tip. His breathing got deeper and slower. He pressed his lips together, blowing out steady streams of breath. He peeked down, looked over at me, peered at the slumbering Austrian woman, smiled and closed his eyes again.

Suddenly, he sucked in a gasp of air, pulled backward into the seat and started to quiver. A pool of hot goo spread across my fingers and palm. What was I thinking? "Oh shit," I whispered. "I didnt plan on that."

He quivered again, adding more goo, and as he caught his breath, he started giggling. That started me giggling. There we sat, John with both hands over his mouth trying not to giggle but giggling uncontrollably, nonetheless, and me giggling like an eight year old too. All the while, I was trying to contain the pool of goo under my hand so it wouldnt soak his shorts. I pulled my left arm free from around him and grabbed the napkins that came with our cheese snacks. "Here," I suggested, "Put these in your boxers and Ill use them to wipe up."

He slipped his hands under the blanket, unsnapped and zipped down his shorts. Then he stuffed the napkins in his boxers and I wiped up as best I could. We kept slipping back into fits of giggles as we did it. When I had cleaned it as good as possible, I pulled the messy napkins out and wondered, "What now, Sherlock?" Like a stroke of brilliance that Frank Hardy would have come up with, I grabbed an air sickness bag and stuffed the cum-soaked napkins in it. Luckily, John didnt cum all that much or I dont know what I would have done. I wiped my hand and fingers on my socks and John put himself back together.

"Wow," I thought as I took hold of Johns hand for the landing, "that was a first. What a trip."

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