Part 101

We were both kinda beered out by the time we’d arrived back amongst the “lifeless” bodies scattered on the sand, so Josh suggested something that would keep us awake. “I’ve got some coffee and fresh water. You want some?”

“I get the feeling you wanna talk.”

“Yeah.” He filled a pot with water and lit the gas barbecue, then got a couple of metal cups. “Two sugars?”

“Cool. And milk. So what’s on your mind?”

“Well, today has kinda changed the way I think. How the hell am I gonna back to my normal life after what’s happened here?”

“You’re asking me? This is my normal life, dude.”

Josh poured the steaming water into each cup, added some condensed milk from a can, then stirred the contents. "Check me out, Daniel – I’m standing here without a fucking stitch on. My cock's hanging in the breeze. And I’m surrounded by nude teens, one of whom I’ve just fucked. Can you believe that! Jesus! I’ve been blown, I’ve blown you guys, and we’ve all pissed on each other. Less than twenty four hours ago, none of this was in my wildest dreams.”

“Thanks,” I said as I took the coffee and sipped it. “So you got lucky.”

“I don’t think you appreciate where I’m coming from.” We both sat on the sand and folded our legs. “I’ve gotta go back to normality knowing that you guys exist, and that all the stuff here today actually happened.”

“You’ve got a wicked looking cock.”

“Don’t change the fucking subject! Actually, yours is awesome, too. Dammit, all you guys are fucking awesome! If you guys were in a band or a movie or whatever, you’d all be fucking famous!”

“We’re that good?”

“You’d better be-fucking-lieve it!”

“Who do I remind you of?”

“Nobody, really. Well, I guess your blonde hair reminds me a bit of Tay Hanson, except yours is short – and your body is lot hotter.”

“I work at it.”

“Anyway, I’ve got the feeling I’m gonna be totally fucking depressed when I go back to my normal life.”

“Change it.”

“You think it’s gonna be that simple? All the people I mix with are so fucking conservative – and straight!”

“How do you know they are?”

“I just know, that’s all.”

“Do they think that you’re straight?”

“Of course! That’s the way I act.”

“Then how do you know that they’re not also acting? I mean, if one or more of them is gay, and they think you’re straight ‘cause that’s the way you act, then they’re gonna act straight, too. Right?”

“What about you? You don’t act gay.”

“Maybe you didn’t see the expression on my face when you just fucked me,” I cracked, totally.

“Be serious, man! There’s nothing about you that says “gay” – nothing. You look and act pretty macho, just like most teens.”

“I am like most teens, man. I like sport, keeping fit, and I’ve gotten into fights occasionally. I also like girls, and girls like me. I don’t get all this shit about a gay guy having some fucking label stamped on his forehead. Take a look at Steve, Benny and Paul. Do they look gay? Maybe they look fucking dead right now,” I laughed, “but there’s nothing about those guys’ appearance that looks any different to most other teens.”

“What about me? Do I look gay?”

“When you first arrived, I figured you looked like a regular dude. You looked fit and tanned and all that stuff. Not to mention fucking hunky.”

Josh sipped his coffee for moment, probably ‘cause he didn’t quite know how to take the compliment. “Well, that still doesn’t answer my question.”

“Listen up, dude, I see it like this. You can live all your fucking life being somebody you ain’t just to please the whole fucking world – except yourself – or you can be who you are.”

“That’s easy for you.”

“Who the fuck says it’s easy for me? It’s no easier for me than it is for anybody else. I have parents too, y’know. I have other guys at school who think I’m a faggot – ‘cept they don’t have the fucking nerve to say it to my face. And even if they did, what the fuck am I supposed to do? Cry? Deny it? Run? Where would I run? Hey, man, there’s something you gotta realize. No fucker’s gonna have any respect for you if you’ve got no self respect. That’s the way I see it.”

“OK, so I just go home and make the big fucking announcement. Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Does a straight guy run around telling everybody that he’s straight?”

“In a way, he does. Every time he talks about girls he’s making it pretty obvious – and straight guys are always talking about girls, or how many fucks they’ve had.”

“Yeah, talking. It’s easy to talk, man. If their fucking dicks could do the talking, you’d hear a different story. Guys who get their fair share of ass don’t need to boast. Anyway, who the fuck says you’ve gotta be like every other damn dude? What is this? Some kinda contest to see who can be the coolest clone? You know those skinheads? The guys who shave their hair and wear stupid clothes? They’re all clones of each other, man. And why? ‘Cause they’re all wusses. It’s the strength in numbers thingy. They don’t have the fucking nerve to be an individual, or to think for themselves. Hey, do you have a school bully?”

“Sure. What school doesn’t?”

“Does he operate alone?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not sure.”

“’Cause he’s fucking afraid to, that’s why. He’d be nothing without his lamo goons – and if he came up against somebody tougher than him, you wouldn’t see those lamo goons for fucking dust. The rats would be in a panic to desert the sinking ship.”

“I still don’t see what all this stuff has to do with me.”

“It’s got everything to do with you, Josh. Today, you’ve had a new experience...”

“You’re not fucking kidding!” he grinned. "Tell me about it!"

“Stop interrupting or I’ll piss on you.”

“You will anyway.”

“My mom says that in life there are no U-turns. You can’t go back, dude. What happened today is an opportunity for a new direction.”

“I keep telling you that I can’t! I’d lose everything – my friends, my folks’ respect... everything.”

“What friends? The people who think they know you? Are you telling me that you’d rather have friends who think they know you rather than friends who do? What kinda friendship is that?”

“Convenient.”

“Bullshit. It’s phoney. It’s a fucking sham. And as for your folks, what did they do? Fill in a questionaire and get you by mail order? Are they gonna be disappointed ‘cause you didn’t turn out like they expected? So what’s to expect? What are people supposed to do? Keep having babies ‘til they get the right one? And throw the rest away? Gimme a fucking break.”

“Do your folks know you’re gay? Or Steve’s or Benny’s or Paul’s?”

“I’m not sure about the other guys, but I’ve talked about it some with my mom. She thinks I’m gonna grow out of it or whatever.”

“So how come you’re preaching to me?”

“Am I preaching? Sorry, Josh, I guess I got kinda carried away – and looking at your dick isn’t helping either. That’s a totally cool piece of teen meat, man. I’d hate to see it wasted. All I’m saying is that I am who I am, and to deny that would be like saying that I don’t even fucking exist. Like hell I don’t exist! I’m here, man – here in all my fucking seven inches of rock hard glory.”

“You know something? I think I’m more fucking confused than ever. At least my life was predictable before.”

“You’ve only got two choices, Josh. Either you run your own life or you let other dudes run it for you. You decide which way you wanna go. But if you decide to be yourself, don’t expect any medals. Anyway, I’m beat. I’ve gotta sleep. Oh, and don’t piss on me or you’re dead. Y'hear?”

Next morning, the only thing on each guy’s mind was drinking cola and nursing his sore head. Sex was totally outa the question. Nobody even jacked off. And all the piss was directed at the sand. One by one, each dude wandered off into the forest, presumably to take a dump. That was a blessing. The sight of somebody’s big brownie would’ve caused a mass puke. Needless to say, conversation was limited to the odd, antisocial grunt.

By about mid morning, though, our spirits had begun to lift, and our appetites returned. Josh had brought eggs and a can of ham. As they sizzled on the hotplate, the delicious aroma drifted into our nostrils and put smiles back on our faces. We were our normal selves again – well, I wasn’t too sure about Josh after our convo the previous night, but he seemed cheerful enough.

After satisfying our hunger, we dressed in shorts and travelled by boat to Josh’s trailer. Jeez! The thing was like a small house on wheels, with a huge annex attached. Inside, it was luxury big time – a master bedroom, shower, toilet, full-size kitchen with cupboards everywhere, dining room, lounge area, TV, microwave – the fucking lot! Woohoo!

“Wow, man! This is like a damn palace!”

“Without a king or queen, just a prince. But I guess I’m kinda used to it. Most of the people I mix with would think this was kinda ordinary.”

“My holiday house is a two-man tent in the backyard.”

“And you probably have just as much fun – if not more.”

"More," Paul giggled.

“Hey,” Benny yelled. “Skis!”

“Yeah, do any of you guys water ski?”

“I tried it once,” I said, but the other guys shook their heads.

“Time to learn.”

For the following three or four hours, we had a totally rad session taking turns with the skis. More often than not, the boat had to circle to pick up a drowned rat, but everybody was having a wicked time – and I also got to drive the boat when Josh or one of the other dudes was skiing. Cool!

Josh was an awesome skier. No matter which way I steered the craft, or how quickly or unexpectedly, he would jump the wake with total ease, never once losing his balance. He reminded me a lot of Kyle, and how my South African bud could handle a surfboard like it was a part of him. That kinda skill was something I admired a helluva lot. To me, it put a guy on some kinda pedestal, like he was a hero. And the more I watched Josh, the more I liked him. The dude had a lotta style, way too much to allow other people to dominate his life. I felt this strong urge, almost a responsibility, to help him come to terms with his sexuality and to accept himself without question. I had to somehow get him to see himself through my eyes. If that were possible, the dude would never look back.

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