Keith and I had gone to summer camp in the north Georgia mountains just after fifth grade. There were three guys there who played and sang together--folk music--well, country, folk, even some bluegrass. I loved it and was very surprised when Keith said he did as well.
When we got back home, we asked our parents about getting instruments and lessons. The long and short of it was we got instruments--Keith guitar and I fiddle and mandolin--and started taking lessons. We were definitely out of our element at school, but when we put an ad in "Creative Loafing" we located people who wanted to play in a group and we formed one: Susan on bass and vocals, Rob on banjo and guitar, Keith on guitar and vocals and me on fiddle and mandolin. Keith always caused a sensation when we played in public and we all got a kick out of how people asked, "How do you have a black boy playing country music?" Both whites and blacks had difficulty with that! After Keith had asked people not to call him boy at least a dozen times every time we played, he finally gave up.
Mom and Dad and Keith's Mom and Dad all put their foot down about where we could play. Unfortunately a lot of places where we could have played were so redneck Keith would be in danger. They never had to remind us to be sure we knew the place we were playing after we showed up to play at what we thought was a very nice place and as soon as Keith stepped on stage, some one threw a bottle at him. That was also the last time we had been driven to where we were playing and dropped off. None of us objected to having at least one set of parents hanging around.
A few weeks after Keith had gone to North Carolina and we had salvaged (or were salvaging) our friendship, conditioning for baseball started, well not officially. We were just told the school's exercise room would be open after school with the not so subtle hint we might want to use it. Keith and I would no longer be playing on a middle school team if we made the cut and the exercise and conditioning program we set for ourselves reflected that. The day after our first workout both Keith and I were so sore we were walking like old men.
After the first week of in the exercise room, we had worked out the kinks and really went to work. I could always run circles around Keith, but we both started running early in the morning. We'd both leave our house and run toward a common point, then run together.
We had a official week of conditioning-we were allowed to have equipment and get on the field, but no actual baseball practice-before practice began the second week of February. After a week on the field, the first cuts were made; and Keith and I both made it. After another week, the team was chosen and we began serious work, getting ready for our first game the first Friday in March.
When we moved outside, so did the girls. They came, not to practice anything except what Keith called "dude watching." Most, I guess, had boyfriends on the field, but some, Keith said, "Be window shoppin'." Since I was one of seven "white boys" at East River...well, I guess you need to know about East River.
When it came time for me to enter high school, I had a lot of choices not open to other students. Since both my parents were in the school system, I had the option of going to any Fulton county high school. If I chose to go to one out of the district, I'd have to provide my own transportation, but Mom and Dad said they could take care of that. If I chose to go to College Park High, I could walk, but College Park was definitely nothing special. The only thing it was noted for was a football team of gorillas! Keith and I talked about where we'd be going even though he had few choices. He could stay at College Park or try for entrance in one of the magnet schools. "I may be good enough to get into the performing arts magnet," he had said, "And so are you. That's one option open to both of us--if we can get in."
"I know I have the grades to get into a science-math magnet," he said. "I could even get into the science-math magnet at Lakeside in north Fulton since I could do M to M."
M to M was Fulton county's way of dodging court ordered integration. It allowed any student to transfer from a school where he/she was a "majority" to one where he/she was a "minority". For all practical purposes it meant black students from predominately black south Fulton transferred to white north Fulton. Keith laughed every time the majority-minority thing was mentioned because he once heard a teacher say our school was a majority minority.
We talked about what we would do and finally decided since I had no problems with being a "minority," we'd both apply for the science-math magnet at East River in south Fulton. Since only a C average was required for acceptance and both Keith and I had A averages and good recommendations from our science and math teachers, getting in should be and was a slam dunk.
Most folks who knew East River called it "that school in the boonies" with good reason. It was only ten miles from College Park and just off a four lane highway ending at Hartsfield--the Atlanta airport, but even though it was less than a mile from the highway, a clearing had been cut in piney woods to make room for it. It was in the boonies indeed.
Yet, we would learn later, it was classified as an urban school in a suburban setting. See, the regular student body (there were only one hundred fifty of the twelve hundred students in the science-math program) were about equally divided between those who lived in a large federal housing project, Rim Rock, and those living in the mansions of the affluent neighborhood called The Cascades. The differences between the dozen or so white students and the black students was not nearly as dramatic as those between the African-Americans of The Cascades and the blacks of Rim Rock.
Anyway, Keith and I got our letters of acceptance two weeks before the end of school. The letter contained information about the program and what would have become a real pain the butt, bus routes. Most science-math students started school an hour early beginning with what was called zero period. We could ride a bus from College Park to school for zero period, but we'd have to walk nearly a mile to catch it at 6:00 in the morning. Both Mom and Dad believed teenagers operated on a different clock from adults and wanted the system to try not starting high school until 9:30 or 10:00 and running late. In spite of all the research supporting the idea, it would not fly because it would be inconvenient for the faculty and staff. Anyway, before school started, Mom and Dad and the Andersons had worked out a plan to drop us off at school just before zero period. One set of parents took us one week and the other the next.
After the letter of acceptance and our parents working out transportation, Keith and I put high school out of our minds and started planning for the summer. The week after school was out, I would be headed for baseball camp. Keith had talked about going with me, but he had to spend two weeks with his grandparents in south Georgia and the best time for them was immediately after school was out. We both would be home the weekend following baseball camp, but both left again Sunday afternoon, Keith for baseball camp and I for computer camp.
After those two weeks, we were back in College Park for the weekend and Sunday afternoon Keith left for computer camp. I was going to be home, going to second session of summer school. I had signed up for a vocational class in auto body repair at East River and needed two periods for that and with the science-math schedule, I had to make room for classes. I signed up for my social studies and an art history class, getting social studies and humanities classes out of the way before I started my freshman year.
When school started, Keith and I were in very few classes together. He had to take the two classes I had done in summer school and I was in auto body repair which he wasn't taking. In short, four out of seven of our classes were different which meant we were on very different schedules. We were together for zero period and last period PE.
We had decided to go out for the baseball team and not do any other sports. I mean, we did have a full plate without adding anything. The football coach was all over Keith for not going out for football, but Keith finally told him to back off. That pissed the coach off and before the dust settled, Keith's dad had to intervene. I suspect that was one reason the football coach was transferred as soon as the season was over.
Anyway, we signed up for baseball. There was no varsity baseball in the fall, but the coach managed to make sure those planning on going out were in her last period PE class. The class was large enough to divide up and play each other. To be honest, it was more fun than playing other schools since we were just playing for fun and practice. Officially, of course, we were not practicing.
School rocked along, Keith and I played gigs about once a month and spent a lot of time together practicing. February of our freshman year finally rolled around and with it our fifteenth birthday. As soon as we could, we got our learner's permits and started driving with our parents.
February also meant baseball practice would start for real. We started spending our PE class time in the exercise room and worked out for an hour after school. We had told ourselves were were staying in shape, but our muscles reported otherwise after the first day we spend two hours in the exercise room.
The "dude watchers" came out in full force as soon as we started practicing outside. And one of them, a real living doll named LaTasha Jackson, definitely had her eye on Keith and he was ignoring her as he ignored all the girls. One afternoon I was sitting on the sidelines for some reason and LaTasha came and sat beside me.
"Tom, I need some help," she said, slipping her arm through mine.
"Yeah?" I asked, expecting her to ask me for a date or something. I thought I'd stall her off and added, "You want a date or something?"
"Tom, I know you're not interested. You're gay!"
I was drinking from a water bottle and when she said that, I sprayed her good.
"Tom, I've been baptized!" she laughed. "I can't think of a good-looking boy for you, as good-looking as Keith anyway, and I'd know if he was gay and he's not. No, I need help with Keith."
Now if LaTasha had been the usual run-of-the-mill East River girl with hot pants, I'd have brushed her off, but she wasn't. I had a class with her and she was smart--beyond smart--witty, a lot of fun and beautiful.
"LaTasha, I think you just might pull it off. I'll see what I can do," I promised and had every intention of at least talking to Keith about her.
The baseball team was now practicing during the PE period, as we had been off and on all the time, and also practicing an hour after school. After practice, Keith and I showered and got dressed, then walked to the front of the school where we'd sit in the sun waiting for our ride for the week. We had just reached the outside when someone drove up, honked the horn and LaTasha got in the car, then turned and waved to me.
"Tom, I'm going to ask a big, big favor of you. I know you are not interested in girls even if they are interested in you. I saw LaTasha with you this afternoon. Since I know you're not interested in her, do you think you might set me up with her? Please!"
It was all I could do to keep from laughing and I started to tell Keith why LaTasha was with me, but decided I wouldn't. Let them both think they were working hard to get the attention of the other.
"Keith you are my life-long, very best friend, so I guess you are worth some extra effort. I'll see if I could get LaTasha interested in you."
I told LaTasha Keith and I had a gig with our band Friday night and asked, "Why don't you come along? You can tell him I asked you if he asks." LaTasha was all for it.
I told Keith he needed to know what LaTasha thought about his music. "She thinks you have been turned into an oreo, playing honkie hillbilly music. I asked her to come long with us Friday night to see you really acting like a honkie."
The band made sure LaTasha was with Keith all evening and when we got back to College Park, Keith said, "I think she likes me!"
After that we became almost a trio. LaTasha finally told Keith I had engineered their getting together and when he said, "Yeah, I know, I told him to," they both looked at me and started howling with laughter.
Keith and I were not the only freshmen on the baseball team and, in fact, the freshmen and sophomores actually carried the team. And we did a good job of it. For the first time in the school's history, the baseball team won more than it lost--by one game.
Keith and LaTasha were spending more and more time together and that meant I spent less and less time with Keith. I think I might have been jealous except Keith was happy enough for the two of us.
The good baseball season, the good academic year and Keith's--and even LaTasha's--friendship made freshman year a good one. There was, of course, the fact that I was gay and alone. Nevertheless, when the three of us parted company at the end of school, we all three called it a good year.
Well, actually Keith and LaTasha parted company first. A couple of the guys we played with wanted the five of us to do a two week summer camp in north Georgia. We'd play in the evenings and maybe at other times, but mostly we'd be free during the day and it was all free. Keith and I jumped at the chance to start the summer together rather than heading off in opposite directions.
The camp was fun, nothing like computer camp or baseball camp. For one thing, it was co-ed. That made for a lot of innocent fun and I suspect some not so innocent--but I wouldn't know about that.
When we got back Keith immediately headed for Latasha's. He was leaving for south Georgia and his grandmother's Sunday before I was leaving for computer camp.
I'm not sure how he worked it, but when I headed to computer camp late Sunday afternoon, Keith and Latasha were there to see me off. "Thought you were headed to south Georgia and granny's place," I said when he showed up.
"No," something came up and I'm here for a week."
"I have him for another whole week," LaTasha said. "And I am going to get him well-trained."
"Well, I'm off to keep company with some big bytes and little bytes. See you in two weeks."
The two weeks at computer camp weren't terribly exciting and I knew about as much as the counselors and instructor, but some of the the non-computer activities made up for it. The day before we left for home was great. It started with a paint ball war--and my team won--and ended with a great evening around the campfire.
I was pretty sure one of my cabin mates was gay, but not sure enough to really find out. He was a lot of fun and he and a definitely straight guy from Macon and I did all sorts of things together, some of it even without breaking rules.
When I got back to College Park I called LaTasha. I knew Keith was supposed to be in south Georgia with his grandmother and if he wasn't LaTasha would know it. Sure enough, he had been gone a week and wouldn't be back for a couple weeks, after I had gone to baseball camp.
I had a week free before baseball camp and did a few things around the house. I read a book; but it was too hot to do much outside and I felt too cooped up inside. When Mom and Dad came in from school Tuesday, I asked about our going to North Carolina. I knew we'd be going later, but it was hot and sticky in the metro area and those mountains sure would be nice. Both thought it was a good idea if they could work it out.
Mom called in the middle of the day and said they had managed to get everything out of the way so we could go as soon as they got home. "Remember, we'll have to leave early enough Sunday to get you on the bus for baseball camp," Mom said. "But we'll have four days away." The camp provided a bus from Atlanta so my parents wouldn't have to take me, just get me to the bus on time. "If you're willing to do that, we'll leave as soon as we can tonight," Mom said.
I really enjoyed just being alive while we were at the North Carolina place. I had nothing I needed to be doing so I did a lot of reading, listening to my CDs and exploring. I loved the woods and there was a river practically in our front door. Dad and I also did some repairs and talked about improvements we might make sometime.
The time passed quickly, too quickly, and I wished we could stay, but Mom and Dad had to get back and I had baseball camp.
When I got back to College Park, I called LaTasha and learned Keith was spending another week in south Georgia. "Looks like he's spending the whole summer there," I said. I was puzzled as was LaTasha, but we had no answers.
As I rode the bus to camp, I thought about what Keith had said when we THOUGHT we knew our summer schedules. "Tom, my brother, one of these years we've got to do some decent planning and get to baseball camp together." He told me then that after he got back from his session of baseball camp, he was going to spend two weeks with an aunt in Detroit.
Already his original schedule was a shambles and that was for sure. I smiled when I could imagine Keith's face as he surveyed what had been a schedule and was now chaos, "You do remember about mice and men, don't you, my brother?" he would ask.
As the baseball camp bus rolled down I-75, I looked out the window at the pines rushing by, remembered North Carolina and realized I was off to baseball camp for two weeks, but wasn't very excited about it.
I don't know exactly why things were as they were at camp. Maybe I was more relaxed around strangers, maybe my hormones had taken a turn for the worse--or better--maybe I was feeling more comfortable about being gay. Maybe it was none of those things and something else I didn't see. Anyway, I do know that I was more sexually aroused by the guys around me than I had been at school.
I had read a lot of stories on the internet about gay high school guys and the problems they had with showers, fearing the would pop a boner in the shower and be found out. I hadn't had problems at school for some reason, but I came to dread the showers at camp. Regardless of what I did, it was almost impossible for me to shower with all that nude male flesh without popping a boner.
Anyway, the next to the last day of camp, Shawn, the college-aged counselor for my cabin, came up to me after lunch and asked what I had scheduled for the afternoon. "An optional rules review," I responded.
"I suspect you know the rules very well," Shawn laughed and winked. "Like to break a few? I'm off this afternoon and need a buddy to go canoing with me."
"I don't know," I hesitated.
I'll admit Shawn could get my motor running by just walking by. He had a great body--well-developed, well-defined, beautiful. He was very dark with an olive complexion, black curly hair and in spite of the fact he had the largest black bush I had ever seen, the rest of his body was smooth. The whole camp skinny dipped and every time we had swimming, I made wood as soon as I saw Shawn. The only reason I didn't stay hard was the river where we swam was pretty cold.
"Hey, I promise a lot of fun. Why not skip out with me?"
I guess Shawn probably thought I was a dunce since I stammered trying to answer. I was finally able to choke out,"What if I get caught?"
"Don't worry. You won't and if you do, we'll both be caught and it'll be my ass in the sling. I'll get the canoe and meet you at that old pine up the river."
"See you there," I said. He winked and headed toward the dock and the canoes.
I felt pretty guilty sneaking off, but not guilty enough not to do it! As Shawn got in the canoe and started paddling upstream, I trotted down the path through the woods to a large, old pine which hung out over the river where I waited for Shawn. I heard his paddle dipping into the water before he turned the bend and came into view. He paddled the canoe to the bank and held it steady as I got in.
Shawn had taken his shirt off and was wearing very short shorts and no jock or briefs. I couldn't keep my eyes off of him and was getting more and more aroused. I was very hot, very hard and very horny.
"Take off your shirt. It's too hot for anything you don't need," Shawn said and I did. I then picked up a paddle and helped him propel the canoe against the current up the river to the falls.
When we reached the falls, Shawn suggested we go swimming as he started stripping. Since the camp swam in the nude, stripping to swim was normal. Having shucked off my trunks and jock strap, I dived into the fall's basin right behind Shawn. We swam around for, I guess, close to an hour, chasing and ducking each other, playing grab ass.
We were just swimming around when Shawn dived under the water and disappeared. Suddenly I felt him behind me just before he slipped his arm between my legs and grabbed my cock. I thought nothing of it since we were horsing around. Once or twice I did think he grabbed or brushed a hand against my cock more than might have been accidental, but dismissed the thought. Well, I really didn't dismiss the thought; I hoped he'd keep doing it!
The water was not icy, but cold enough and after we had been swimming for at least an hour, I had had enough. I dodged a lunge by Shawn and climbed out of the water to sit on a huge rock at the water's edge. It was in the sun and very warm.
Shawn climbed out right behind me. As he did he pointed to my crotch and said, "Looks like Tommy has gone in hiding." He was right, my cock had crawled inside, leaving only a bit of its head showing, peeping out of my bright red pubic bush.
"Shawnie has retreated even more," I said, laughing. Shawn was uncut and his foreskin formed a dark rosebud of skin, resting in the center of his magnificent black, curly pubic hair. "May have to do something about that," Shawn said, but made no move to do anything.
We both lay back on the warm rock. The sun felt great and I was more then half asleep when suddenly I felt warm air being blown on my cock, then it was sucked into Shawn's hot mouth. The feeling was so great I almost shot at once. Shawn ran his tongue around my cock's head while sucking it deeper into his mouth.
I really didn't know what to do. Sure, I had daydreamed about playing around with another fellow and it did feel good. Damn! It felt good? Understatement. I couldn't believe how good it felt! I thought I should tell Shawn to stop, but...yeah, BUT I knew I wouldn't/couldn't. It just felt too damn good! Shawn let my cock slide from his mouth, raised up leaned over me. His mouth covered mine and his tongue pushed it's way into my mouth and we got into a real tongue battle. I wanted more and more of his tongue and got it.
Shawn broke our kiss, turned around and took my cock in his mouth again. His cock was in front of my face, but I just couldn't take it in my mouth. Instead I started stroking him as he took my cock deeper and deeper into his mouth, sucking harder and harder. That couldn't, of course, last long. Suddenly my muscles tensed, arching my body from the warm rock. With the first shot of cum, the pleasure became too great and I blacked out for several seconds. When I came to, Shawn was standing on his knees over me, stroking his cock. He shot charge after charge of hot cum into my face.
As terrific as Shawn's sucking my cock and my shooting was, I wasn't prepared for his shooting off in my face. I panicked. I grabbed my shorts from the rock, wiped my face, then threw them down and plunged into the water. I scrubbed my face with my hands and when it felt clean, I climbed on the rock where I had left my shorts and picked them up.
"I'm sorry, Tom," Shawn said. "I was sure you were gay and would enjoy some hot sex. I'm sorry."
I thought about what Shawn said and realized that what he said was right. I was gay and I did enjoy Shawn's sucking me off. Enjoy? It had, literally, given me more pleasure than I could handle.
"I'm the one who's sorry, Shawn. I AM gay and I DID enjoy the sex. I sure as hell did. I guess I just wasn't ready for the cum in the face."
"Then I'm really sorry for that. I wouldn't have taken anything from your pleasure. Your first blowjob?"
"My first sex at all beyond the times I beat off with another guy and he was straight."
"Then let me see if I can make up for my mistake. Come here."
I dropped my shorts and walked toward Shawn. When I reached him, he took me in his arms. Again his open mouth covered mine, his tongue thrust its way into my mouth and started doing wonderful things. Almost at once I was hard in seconds. Shawn's hands moved down my back. He grasped my cheeks, pulled my crack open and his fingers started rubbing my asshole as he pulled our cocks together and started moving his hips in small circles.
I broke our kiss and between groans said, "Shawn, I am ready to come!"
Shawn dropped to his knees and took my cock into his mouth. It was a matter of seconds before I started shooting and, in spite of having cum minutes before, I shot again and again, so much Shawn couldn't take it all. Suddenly I couldn't stand. My legs collapsed and Shawn lowered me to the rock. He lay down beside me and his open mouth covered mine again. I could taste my own cum on his tongue.
Shawn wrapped me in his arms and I rested my head on his chest. His hand stroked my hair as he said, "Does that make up for my bad manners?"
"It sure does!"
We lay on the rock for maybe fifteen minutes before Shawn reached over and picked up his watch from where it lay. He looked at it and shot up. "Shit! I have a counselors' meeting in twenty minutes and my ass will be in hot water if I'm not there!" He pulled on his shorts and as he did said, "Shit, Tom. Get a god damn move on. I'm late."
Needless to say, Shawn's words broke up the romantic haze I had been floating in. I grabbed my shorts, looked around for my jock and didn't see it.
"Damn it, Tom, get a fucking move on!" Shawn was really panicking.
I raced to the canoe, nude, right behind Shawn. I managed to get into the canoe as Shawn pushed off and pulled on my shorts as he paddled toward the camp.
"God damn it!, Boy, grab that paddle and help out here," Shawn ordered. All the way back to camp Shawn bitched about my getting him in trouble if he didn't get back in time and kept warning me about what would happen if I told anyone what happed at the falls. The romantic mood? I couldn't remember it. Shawn had really shot it with his change in attitude.
When we approached the old pine, Shawn headed the canoe into the bank and said, "Get out on the double. I am in one hell'ave hurry". When I waited for him to make sure the canoe was steady, he said, "Damn it, get your ass out of the canoe!" I felt like overturning the canoe, but just got out and managed not to fall in as Shawn shot the canoe toward the middle of the river.
I got back about 3:00 and since I hadn't shown up for the beginning of the rules review, there was no way I was going to show up now. I walked to my cabin, took off my shorts and pulled on briefs and a clean pair of shorts. The cum I had wiped from my face, now dry, spotted the shorts. Since I would be leaving for home the next day, I just stuffed the dirty shorts into my laundry bag and forgot about them.
When I was dressed, I lay on my bunk, staring at the bottom of my bunkmate's bunk, trying to make sense out of the afternoon. That I had enjoyed having sex with Shawn was not a question. Even just thinking about the feelings he had given me got me major aroused. I did wonder why Shawn had decided to ask me to go with him and how he knew I'd not only go with him, but have sex with him.
I doubtlessly sent out signals without knowing I was doing it. Even though I didn't know I did it, I was sure I had led Shawn on. After all, I got a roaring hardon a dozen times of day when I saw him. Shawn was just smart enough to read the signs and I'm sure he enjoyed what we did ALMOST as much as I did.
I tried to tell myself I was just so sexy--really--Shawn couldn't help himself--but I knew better. Shawn went to the falls with one thing in mind, sex. I was positive of that, and he had invited me and not just anybody. He was, I was positive, sure I would go along with what he had in mind. That worried me for some reason.
What I really couldn't understand was how friendly and all Shawn had been and how he made sure I enjoyed the sex, and I had. But then he completely changed. As soon as he realized he had to get back to camp, he became sharp in both his speech and actions. It was almost as if he had done a job and then I was in the way, no longer needed. I didn't understand what had happened or how I had upset Shawn.
Since camp was over the next day, I put the incident out of my mind--most of the time. The sex had been good and Shawn was no dog, in fact, he was one hot dude. He could have just about anybody and he had chosen me. I couldn't understand why, then, the next time I saw him he avoided me. During the night's activities his avoiding me was obvious, pointedly so. Shawn's acting as if I didn't exist was gnawing at me.
After taps, I lay in my bunk, recalling just how good Shawn's mouth had felt on my cock. I know I had a smile on my face as I lay there. The snores told me that I was the only camper awake. I was half asleep when I heard whispers just outside the cabin wall, inches from where I lay. I was sure one of the voices was Shawn's and when I raised up to look, he was not in his bunk. I wondered what he was doing outside rather than being here in the cabin where he was supposed to be.
I don't know what I was doing when I slipped out of my bunk and headed for the door. The cabin's screen door squeaked when opened, but I figured if I opened it very slowly I could slip out and I did. I got out of the cabin without making a sound. I sneaked a peek around the corner of the cabin and saw two people as they started walking into the woods. One of the two was Shawn and I was sure the other was Harold, the counselor from the cabin next door. I don't know what I was thinking about beyond wanting to find out what was going on without revealing myself
I waited at the corner of the cabin, only peeking around the corner, occasionally. After I no longer heard the voices, I looked around the corner and saw the two, who were walking away from camp quickly, disappear into the woods. I waited a few minutes then started following them. They were well ahead of me and I ended up was half running since Shawn and Harold were nearly running along the trail.
I lost sight of the two, but was sure they would just follow the trail. I guess they made a turn off the trail and I missed it because I suddenly realized I not only couldn't see them, but also no longer heard them. I had gone at least a quarter mile after I saw them last. I turned around and started back thinking I'd just go back to the cabin and bed.
They had taken a side trail, but wasn't far off the trail where I had passed earlier. When I heard their voices again I was almost on top of them. I stopped and stayed in the shadows as I crept closer.
They had spread a blanket on the straw beneath a huge pine and Harold was lying on it, his legs over Shawn's shoulders. Shawn was slamming his cock in and out of Harold's ass, fucking him like there was no tomorrow.
"Give it to me, Baby. Pump that big, hard, cock up this boy's ass," Harold moaned. He kept groaning and urging Shawn on. Finally, Shawn's body stiffened as he shoved his cock deep into Harold. As he did, Harold who was pounding his own cock, shouted as he started shooting spunk all over himself.
Shawn collapsed on top of Harold, hardly moving. Eventually he raised up, kissed Harold, rolled off and onto his back. As he did he said, "Harold, you fucker, you damn well enjoyed that fuck too much for it to be a complete pay off."
"That was the deal," Harold responded. "You have sex with Tom and I'd be bottom. You fail and I'd fuck your sweet ass."
"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd like being bottom that much," Shawn said.
"Let you in on a little secret," Harold laughed. "I LOVE being fucked and the deeper and harder the better. So, yeah, I really didn't care which one of us won."
"And I'll let you in on a secret, Harold, I know your ass has been plowed like a field of corn, but I popped old Tom's cherry."
"You're fucking lying!" Harold said. "No way."
"Sure did. He was a virgin and I emphasize WAS! Got a trophy for my wall too," Shawn laughed as he reached across Harold, picked up his shorts and took a jock strap out of a pocket.
"Take a look," Shawn said as he held up the jock strap and Harold flicked a cigarette lighter so he could read the name written on the waistband of my jock.
"Shit! You got his jock strap!"
"Damn right and that's not all I got. I got his fucking cherry."
"A fucking virgin and you got his cherry. Ok, that fuck was too great to settle my debt, but I bet this will." Harold pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his shorts. Well, as soon as he lit it I recognized the sickly sweet smell of weed. The two kept passing the joint back and forth and as they did, Harold said, "Tell me about fucking the kid again."
When I found out I was the object of a bet, a bet that I could be seduced by Shawn, I felt cheap, used, a whore. I felt hot tears well up in my eyes as I realized that that wonderful and romantic first time was not to be. Instead my first time was so Shawn could win a cheap bet! I had given myself to someone who only wanted to prove I could be had. And I had been. Yep, I had really been had.
I was ready to puke as I listened to Shawn give Harold a minute by minute account of how he got me to go with him, how he got me worked up and how "I got his virgin cock in my mouth." I felt like I was dirty, filthy. Tears were rolling down my face and I couldn't stop crying. But it got worse.
"Bet something else, Harold. Bet he'll be walking kind slow and easy tomorrow. You won't 'cause you've had enough cock up your ass to reach from here to Chicago. But he had a virgin hole. Took me a while to get him all loosened up. Gave him a rimming he'll always remember. When I finished rimming him and got him all lubed up, he was begging me to plug his virgin ass, to take his cherry."
I didn't want to hear any more, but since they were sitting there, facing my direction, I was afraid to move.
As I waited, they were still toking as Harold said, "How'd you like me to take your cherry? Had you like a good ass fucking?" Shawn laughed and said, "Afraid you'er several years late if you wanted my cherry, but it's still good stuff." He stood, moved over Harold and lowered his ass to Harold's face. "Yes. Baby, I want to fuck your sweet ass," Harold said as he buried his face between Shawn's cheeks.
"Yeah, get that hole ready, Harold. Prove you are as good a top as you are a bottom."
Harold's face was buried in Shawn's ass and Shawn had his head thrown back and his eyes closed so I felt it was safe to move. I started moving quietly and quickly, back the way I came.
About half way back to the cabin, I had to stop. I started vomiting as wave after wave of nausea swept over me. I vomited until there was nothing else left in my stomach. I headed for the bath house and was still having dry heaves when I reached it. I went inside and started washing out my mouth, trying to get the sour puke taste out of my mouth. It helped get rid of the puke taste, but it didn't get rid of the dirty, shitty feeling I had.
I stripped my boxers from my body--the camp rules said we had to wear something to bed and all I ever wore was boxers. I grabbed a bar of soap and got under the showers, making the water as hot as I could stand. I must have been in the shower for fifteen minutes when the thought occurred that Harold, Shawn or both might come to the toilet before going back to their cabins. I had just turned the water off and was using my hands to wipe water from my body when I heard a noise on the toilet side of the bath house.
It was Harold and Shawn. The weed had them so laid back they were talking loud and free about fucking each other. Finally Harold said, "Shawn, you're a damn good fuck, but not a nice, tight virgin asshole. You were a good fuck, and I bet I was, but that Tom must have been great."
"You just don't know the half of it!" Shawn laughed, then said "Yeah!" I could imagine him pumping his fist in the air.
When the two had gone, I sat on a bench in the shower room, sick, still feeling cheap and dirty. I didn't know what to do. If I went back to the cabin, I'd have to face Shawn and if I didn't, sooner or later he'd realize I was gone and would have to start a search for me.
Finally I decided I'd go back to the cabin and if Shawn had anything to say, he'd have a fight on his hands. I walked back to the cabin, stood outside the door for a few minutes, peeped inside and saw Shawn in his bunk, mouth open, snoring. I slipped into the cabin and into my bed. I think I had just learned through experience what "heartsick" meant.
Reveille was at 6:30 and everyone was expected to get up, do the morning ablutions, get dressed and be at the mess hall by 7:15. Jeffery, my bunkmate, hopped down from his bunk, leaned over and shook me gently. "Tom, time to hit the floor."
I was only half awake when I said, "I think I'll wait for sick call. Go on ahead."
Jeffery told Shawn I was in the bunk sick and as soon as he had finished at the bath house, he rushed back.
"Hey, Buddy, up and adam," he said, shaking me gently.
"Leave me alone and get your dirty hands off me," I snarled, while keeping my head buried in my pillow.
"Wait until the rest of the guys go to breakfast and I'll give you some more of that good stuff I gave you yesterday," Shawn whispered in my ear.
"Who you got a bet with this time, Asshole," I shouted at him as I sat up in bed.
"What are you talking about?" Shawn asked, "I just want to make you as happy as you were yesterday." Shawn was leaning over me, his hands resting on Jeffery's bunk.
I have a temper to match my red hair, a temper I generally keep under control, but all I had heard last night came rushing back and I was about ready to explode.
"We can go somewhere right now and let me get you feeling good again," Shawn said, reached down and grabbed my cock which was half-way out of my boxers.
That did it! I jumped up, drew back and gave Shawn a major fist in the face.
"I'll have your everlovin' ass for that you little fucker," he shouted. He was so angry he didn't watch himself and as he started to throw a punch, I got him in the gut and then the eye. That did it. He fell to the floor clutching himself. A couple guys from my cabin apparently had walked in when I threw the first punch and rushed out to get another counselor. They came racing back with Harold. As he stepped into the cabin, he said, "Ok, all you campers, outside 'til I get this straightened out."
As soon as they were gone, I said, "Harold, back off. I'll take care of this. And by the way, the only fucking Shawn did yesterday was in your ass. Understand me?"
Harold said, "Lied again Shawn? Guess you got what you deserve. Let's keep the whole affair to ourselves, huh?"
I nodded and then said, "How are you going to explain that shiner you're developing, Shawn? Need to think about that." I grabbed my towel and kit and walked to the bathhouse where I pissed, showered and shaved. I didn't feel tiptop, that was for sure, but I sure felt better than I had last night.
Maybe it had nothing to do with baseball, but I learned an awful lot about myself and what I thought was important at baseball camp.