Making love with Kyle was always fun, and it was almost always great. The night before, though, was beyond great. It was beyond spectacular, even. It's always best when he's really excited about something, but that night it had gone way past that on the greatness scale. I sensed a total surrender, a total giving, even though he was in my ass and not me in his. Our relationship was the most important thing in our lives, and that night I had the feeling we had moved up to a new, higher level. "Hi," he said, when I woke up. He was always awake before I was. He went to sleep really fast, slept very deep, and woke up early. A lot of times he was up doing things, usually things to make life better for the rest of us, but that morning he was still in bed with me. "Hi," I said. He had obviously brushed his teeth because his breath smelled fresh and minty. I was sure mine smelled like Trixie's butthole, but he would never say anything about it. He kissed me, though, with a good bit of passion. "Let me take a leak," I said. I got up, squirted, and brushed my teeth. I knew what he wanted, and I wanted it more than he did. "God, I love you, boy," he said. "You make me so happy, Tim." "I know. Move over. I love you that much more," I said. He was all over me that morning. We kissed and petted and hugged and rubbed against one another. It wasn't he serious sex of the night before. It was playful, puppyish sex, and I thought we were both pretty good at it. He got us up on our knees, and he got behind me. He put his dick between my legs and told me to close them. He moved back and forth, rubbing my balls and my anus with every thrust. When he came, he shot clear to the headboard, and I was right behind him. Neither of us stroked me off. It was just that intense. "What do you want to do today," he asked, once we were lying down again. "I want to make love to you all day long," I said. "I'm pretty drained in the love-making department right now," he said. "I know. I said that's what I want to do. I didn't say we were going to do it," I said. "Do you want to see if the surf is up? We haven't surfed in a while. I smell the paper mill from town. That's usually a sign of surf," he said. "I heard you tell Rick that once. Why is that," I asked. "That means there's a strong southeast wind, and a southeast wind makes good surf," he said. "Plus, there's a little disturbance in the Gulf. That can only help surf conditions." "Do you know everything there is to know about that damn Gulf," I asked playfully. "No. I don't know where the treasure ships are," he said. "You're incredible," I said. "No, I'm not. You're just in love." "You're damn right I am," I said. We kissed again, but that was a signal it was time to get up. We got out of bed and made it up. He insisted on doing that when we got up at the same time, but he didn't care if I made it or not when I got up after him. Strange boy, I thought. Strange and wonderful. We put on briefs and went downstairs. Justin, Jeff, and Tyler were in the den. Kyle and I got coffee and joined them. "Good morning, baby brothers," Justin said. "There's no food in the house, Kyle. Feed us!" Everybody laughed. "I had business to attend to this morning," Kyle said. "Why don't you go shopping? I'll give you the card. You know where the grocery store is." "Oh, but Kyle, you do it so much better," he said in a whiny voice. "What's up with you today," Kyle said. "You're in a strange mood. Where's Brian? He's probably upstairs jerking off because you aren't there to satisfy him." "Very funny. I'm just in a goofy mood, I guess . You guys look like you had a little taste of heaven this morning. Am I right?" "My baby took good care of his boy this morning," Kyle said. "Excellent," Jus said. "Where are Rick and Kevin," Kyle asked. "Where the hell do you think they are, Bubba? It's Sunday morning, remember? And it's only eight o'clock," Jus said. "Shit, I want to go surfing, and I'm sure Rick would want to go," he said. "Ummf," Jeff said. Jeff stretched. He and Ty were sort of slumped together at the end of one of the sofas, and it was pretty obvious they were both still sleepy. When Jeff stretched, I saw that he had an erection, and that wasn't that common a sight. "Are you awake, Jeff," I asked. "Hey, Tim," he said. "Yeah, but just barely. Kyle, go surfing if you want to. We'll tell Rick where you are when he gets up. Are you going to be at the state park?" "Yeah," Kyle said. "Tim, do you want to go with me?" "Yeah, I thought I would," I said. "Good. Anybody else? Jus?" "Kyle, you know better than that. I love the idea of Sex Wax, but it means a whole other thing to me than it does to you, Bubba," he said. Kyle and I both laughed. Sex Wax was the name of the product Kyle used to wax down his boards. When I had heard the expression "waxing down my surfboard" in a song, I had thought it was like the kind of wax you put on floors to make them shine. In my mind, a waxed board would go faster in the water. It was just the opposite of that, though. You put the wax on the side you stand on. It was really thick, like candle wax or something. It was used so your feet wouldn't slide off the board when it was wet. Every sport has equipment associated with it, of course, and surfing was no exception. Obviously, you had to have a surfboard. But you also needed surfing boots and it was a good idea to wear board shorts, too. Some of the guys wore goggles and a nose pincher, but Kyle and Rick didn't. Kyle had several wetsuits, too. He had a couple of full-body ones and a "shorty," which didn't have arms and legs on it. At that late date in June, the water was warm enough to surf in just board shorts, though, without a wetsuit. He had a helmet, too, but he never wore it. I think it was something his parents had given him for some occasion just to have a gift for him. The theory was that the helmet would save you from brain damage if your board hit you in the head at, say, forty miles per hour. I wore the helmet, and I didn't care how dorky it looked. We went upstairs and put on board shorts. Then we went to Kyle's house and got a long board and a short board for him, and a short board for me. I had wanted to take Trixie, but she would have been a nuisance out there, Kyle said. She would have wanted to be in the water with us, and that was just too dangerous for her. Kyle had taken her out a couple of times, and she had ridden waves with him. He said she loved it, but he didn't want to take her that day. As much as he loved that dog, I knew it would be bad for her, so we left her home. The waves at the state park were awesome. In fact, the only time I had seen bigger ones was right before the hurricane the year before when we had gone surfing before we left for Dothan. "They're breaking so fast, there's going to be a mean undertow," Kyle said. "Be careful, you hear?" "Okay. You, too, Babe," I said. There were quite a few people out that morning, but Kyle and I both caught some good ones. He could be pretty acrobatic on the short board, and he was showing off good that day. Rick showed up after we had been out for about an hour and a half, and he had a good time, too. I got tired after about three hours, so I went up onto the beach to take a break. Kyle caught a wave and was coming in good, but he lost it. He crashed. That was no big deal, usually, but there were a bunch of waves in rapid succession right behind the one he was on. He went under water, and his board disappeared. I knew that was a bad sign. He had his board tied to his ankle, and the subsequent waves kept pushing his board down. If he had been loose, he probably could have come up between the waves. But that board kept pulling him under. My heart was in my throat. Rick saw what was going on, and he undid the cord of his board from his ankle to go after Kyle. The trouble was, you couldn't tell where Kyle was. You couldn't have even seen bubbles coming up to mark his spot. "Jesus, please help him," I prayed. "Please let Kyle be safe." It seemed like forever that he was under. About six big waves came fast, and Kyle didn't have a chance to pop up. I felt totally helpless. I was close to tears, and I would have cried except that I was praying so hard and hoping so hard. Then he popped up. Rick and four other guys were right on him. They laid him on his board and swam him in. I ran down to the edge of the water and helped them carry him on the board back up onto the beach. He was breathing really shallow. I put my hand on his chest and pushed down. The other guys carrying him said "hey, cut it out" because I was making it heavier and more difficult to carry, but what I was doing made Kyle cough. That was what I wanted because when he coughed, sea water flooded out of him. He coughed a lot. When he stopped coughing, he grinned at me. That's when I started crying. He was fine. When we finally set him down, he jumped up and hugged me first, then Rick, and then the other guys who had helped. "I'm going back right now," Kyle said. "No!" I said. "He's got to do it, Tim," Rick said. I trusted Rick with my very life, but I didn't think that was a good idea at all. "If he doesn't do it, Bubba, he might never surf again," Rick said. "He's got to get back in there and prove to himself he can do it, Tim." I wanted to shove my board up Rick's ass right then. Then I wanted to run after Kyle and tackle him. I could do it, too. I knew I could. He was a few pounds heavier than me and had more muscle, but I didn't want him dead. Rick knew what I was thinking, and he threw me to the sand. "Give him a chance, Tim. He can do it. Watch," Rick said. "He could have died, Rick," I said. "I know, Tim. Believe me, I know. I've been where he was, and he did almost drown. But he could get killed crossing the street in front of our house. He could slip on the stairs and die going up to bed. You don't want your husband being an emotional cripple when it comes to surfing, do you? He loves it, Tim." I was very quiet as I processed what he had just said. He had called Kyle my husband. That's what he was, and he was right. I didn't want him not to take risks to have fun. "You called him my husband," I said. "Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, Bubba. That was a slip of the tongue," Rick said. "That's the way you think of us, though, isn't it?" "Yeah, pretty much. I'm sorry, Tim." "Sorry? Sorry? Rick, that makes me so happy," I said. "Don't be sorry. Rejoice with us," I said. "I do, Bubba. Every day, man." I was crying with relief and happiness, and Rick cried with me. Kyle caught a wave, and he was doing great. Rick and I stood up to watch him, and he rode that wave all the way in. We ran down to the water line to catch him. "You did it, Bubba. You ain't scared of that surf, are you," Rick said. Kyle was grinning from ear to ear. "No fuckin' way, dudes." We all hugged and laughed and delighted in the bond among us. It was already after twelve noon, and Kyle and I hadn't yet eaten that day. We gathered up our stuff. "Well, I guess I lost a board today," Rick said. "Bummer," Kyle said. "You can always use one of mine. Or Clay's." "I'd rather have you than the board any day, Bubba," Rick said. "See, I'm different. If it was a choice between you and my best board, . . ." "Shut the fuck up, asshole," Rick said, and all three of us laughed hard. Just about then this little kid came up carrying a surfboard. "Hey, mister, is this your board," he said. He looked like he was about ten years old, but he could have been older. He was really, really good looking, but he was pretty small. I wondered if he had started puberty yet. He had a board under his arm. Rick took the board from him, and Rick's name, address, and phone number were all written on the water side in indelible marker. "Yeah, thanks, buddy," Rick said. "We saw your friend lose it, and I thought his ass was grass, man," the kid said. "What's your name, buddy," Rick asked. "I'm Kyle, but everybody calls me Chip," the kid said. "No shit? That's my name, too. I'm Kyle, too," Kyle said. "No shit? Whoa, this is like a magic day or something," the kid said. "It is for me," Kyle said. "I want to give you something for returning the board." He reached into my Jeep and pulled out his cap. "This is my favorite cap. I want you to wear it, okay?" "Thanks, dude," he said. "I'll wear it, man." "I want to give you something, too," Rick said. He went to his car and fumbled around with his pants. He came back with three twenty dollar bills for the kid. "Oh, man. Thanks, mister," the kid said. "Hey, before I leave, does anybody have a smoke to spare?" He might have wanted a cigarette, but he was laughing like it was a joke. "Spare a smoke? Shit. Get the fuck out of here, dude," Kyle said. He pushed his butt a little with his foot. That boy was laughing so hard he was having trouble breathing. "I'll see you guys again," he said. "Bye for now, but be ready for me. I know I look young, but I'm going to be a freshman at Beachside High School in August." "That's where we go to school," I said. "This guy is going to be president of the student body next year." All of a sudden, it was like he recognized Kyle. "I know who you are. You're a bellhop, right? My last name is Rooney. Does that ring any bells?" "Mr. Rooney at the Laguna," Kyle asked. "One in the same. I'm his son." "Cool. Why aren't you working there this summer, man," Kyle asked. "Some asshole boss wanted his sons, or something like that, to work there. I don't know, but I'm pretty pissed about it. That's a damn good company to work for, and I want to get into that organization. I'm going to run it some day," he said. The three of us looked at each other, and we could barely keep from laughing. "I guess it could happen," Kyle said. "It will. You hide and watch, dude. It'll take me a while, but I'm going to be CEO one of these days. You can put money on that. That hotel's going to be mine." "Chip, why don't you come over to our house this afternoon, man? About three o'clock," I said. "It's 12345 North Lagoon Drive. Tell your dad you're going to spend the afternoon at Rick and Kevin's house." "Okay," he said. "Are you really going to be president next year," he asked Kyle. "Yeah, I really am. I was actually sworn in at an assembly the last day of school, so I am now. You'll see me at Freshman Orientation," Kyle said. "Cool. I'm going to his house this afternoon. Will you be there, Kyle?" "Yeah, I'll be there," Kyle said. "Cool. Later, guys," the little dude said. "Kyle, there's your competition, son," Rick said, after he had left. "I don't really think so," Kyle said. We all laughed. "He was cute, though, wasn't he? He's got gonads the size of watermelons, too," Kyle said. "Yeah, he was cute," Rick said. "I'm really hungry. Can we go eat somewhere," Kyle asked. I was hungry, too, and so was Rick. We rinsed off at a shower head on the boardwalk and changed right there in the parking lot of the state park. We ate at a gigantic buffet on the beach, and then we went home.
Jesus Christ! I thought for sure we had lost him. When Kyle went under, I knew exactly what was going on. His board was pulling him down and keeping him down, and I knew it. That had happened to me twice before, and both times I had thought I was dead. The first time it happened to me wasn't as bad as the second time. Both times, though, I thought I was swimming up when I was really swimming down. Kyle had been on a short board when it happened, so it was a lot easier for him to swim up than if he had been on a long board. The trick was knowing which way was up. He made it, though, and I was so glad. Tim pumped him out, and that was a good thing. He would have made it anyway, but Tim made him breathe normally much faster. Kyle wanted to go back in right away, and that was exactly what he should have done. He was okay physically, but he had to know he could surf again in water that was about as rough as we ever got, except during a storm. We were already in hurricane season, and I knew there would be a lot more heavy surf before it was over. Even if we didn't get a hurricane straight on, we'd have high surf from the ones that went to Texas or to the west coast of Florida. Kyle proved that day that he had guts. I was so proud of him, I could have burst. And then we met this really cute kid called Chip Rooney. He brought my board back to me after I had let it go to dive for Kyle. I hadn't expected to see it again, but he brought it back. He said his goal was to be CEO. It wasn't clear, though, about whether he wanted to be CEO of the Laguna Hotel, which is sort of what his dad was without the title, or CEO of Goodson Enterprises. We knew who was probably going to get that job, and it wasn't going to be Chip Rooney. Back at the house after we had come home from surfing, the gang was already assembled. Justin and Jeff had the ski boat going, and there were a bunch of guys naked in the pool. Kyle and Tim disappeared, probably to shoot pool in the clubhouse, or maybe just to rest. Surfing was pretty damn taxing physically, so I was sure they were tired. On around three o'clock, Chip showed up. Jack Rooney, his dad, brought him, and he walked back to the pool with Chip. Kevin and I saw them come up, and we went over to say hello. I had on shorts, but Kevin was as naked as the day he was born. Since that wasn't exactly the best way to greet one of your most important employees and his son, he grabbed a towel to put around his waist on the way over to meet them. "Hi, Jack," I said. We shook hands. "You know him," Chip asked. "Yeah, I know him," I said. Kevin greeted Jack and shook hands, too. "You know him, too, Dad," Chip asked. "Yeah. Kevin's my boss, in fact. Kevin, this is my son, Chip," Jack said. "Hi, Kevin Foley," he said, shaking hands with Chip. "Hi. Man, I feel dumb as shit," Chip said. "Son!!" "Don't sweat that around here, Jack," I said. "We don't." I knew he was upset, or pretending to be upset, because Chip had said "shit." "So why do you feel dumb as shit," Kevin asked. I could tell he liked that kid the instant he met him, just like I had. "It's something I said earlier," Chip said. "Let's just forget about it." "Okay. Can I get you a beer," Kevin asked Jack. "Yeah, that'd be great," Chip said. "Not you. Your dad," I said. "Oh. I was afraid of that," Chip said. We laughed. "Kevin, Chip was the guy who saved my board today," I said. "Yes, and you gave him way too much money for doing it," Jack said. "Not really. Do you know how much a board costs," I asked. "Even so, twenty would have been fine. Here's the rest," Jack said. He handed me forty dollars. "No way, Jack. Chip, do you see that jar over there that's marked 'UCP'? Go put that money in it," I said. We had started putting out a jar for donations to United Cerebral Palsy, and every week we collected a few bucks. It wasn't the money that mattered, really. It was raising awareness among our friends that we were really after. "Where are those two guys? They said they would be here," Chip said. "Kyle and Tim? I think they're probably in the clubhouse," I said. "Come on. I'll take you over there. Jack, stay and play with us, man." "I'd like to, but I'm MOD today," he said. That meant he was the Manager on Duty, which I thought was strange for the General Manager of a place that big on a Sunday. That was his business, though. "We'll get him home," Kevin said. Tim and Gage were shooting pool, Kyle was asleep on a sofa, and Brian was working with Trixie, teaching her tricks. "Look at this, Rick," Brian said. "Trixie, pray!" She sat on her back haunches, raised her front paws, and crossed them, like she was praying. "Trixie, good job," Brian said. "Wow, Trix. That was great, girl," I said. She loved the praise. I knew she wanted to lick the hell out of Brian and me, but she didn't. She was wagging her tail really fast, though, and she had a sort of smile on her face. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but she looked happy. "She's a cute dog," Chip said. "Thanks," I replied. "Chip, this is Brian Mathews. He's one of our sons. Brian, this is Chip Rooney." They shook hands and told each other "hi." "This is a nice place," Chip said. Then he got a very confidential tone of voice. "Is that guy over there gay," he asked. He was referring to Gage, probably, but everybody in the room was gay, except him. And he might have been, too. "Yeah, he's gay. Do you have a problem with that," I asked. "Hell, no. I don't care. He's not really my type, though," he said. "What's your type," I asked. He shrugged. "Well, gay, straight, or bi, you're welcome here, Chip," I said. "Would you like something to drink?" "I guess no beer, huh?" "No beer," I said. "How about a coke?" "That'd be great," he said. "I'll get it," Brian said. "Anybody else?" "Yeah, get me a Diet, okay," I said. Kyle had been asleep, but he woke up just then. Chip and I went over to the sofa where he was lying. He sat up as we approached. "Hi, Chip," Kyle said. "Glad you could make it, dude." "Thanks. This is a great place," he said. "How do you know these guys?" "How do I know y'all, Rick," Kyle asked. "Kyle and Tim, the other guy you met this morning, are our honorary sons and little brothers," I said. "Only they're not so little." "Do you have any kids of your own," he asked. "Besides Brian?" "Quite a few," I said. "There's Brian, Justin, Kyle, Tim, Jeff, Seth, and Alex now, I guess." "Damn, how old are you?" "I'm twenty-six, for another couple of weeks, anyway," I said. "You're not old enough for Brian to be your son, are you?" "None of them are our natural children, Chip. All foster sons, some legally and others honorarily," I said. "All of 'em live here?" "Well, Kyle and Tim technically live with their parents, but they have a room here," I said. "Seth's a visitor for the summer, and Alex just showed up about a week ago," Kyle said. "In fact, it was a week ago today. Damn, a lot happened in a week, didn't it?" "Where is Alex, anyway," I asked. No sooner had I said that than Alex, Jeff, and Tyler walked in. I introduced Chip to them. "You're going to have to help me with all the names," Chip said. "They can't remember each other's names, either. They just all call each other 'Bubba,'" Jeff said. "Very funny, Bubba," Kyle said. We all laughed. "You see what I mean," Jeff asked, and we all laughed again. "Where's Justin," Kyle asked. "He's fooling with the boat. Putting it away, I guess," Jeff said. "You didn't stay to help him," Kyle asked, slightly annoyed. "He looked like he knew what he was doing," Jeff said. "Besides, I was hot and thirsty." "A fine friend you are," Kyle said. "Why don't you go help him," Jeff retorted. "Naw. He can do it," Kyle said. We laughed. Justin came in just then, and we introduced Chip. Justin had on just a Speedo and sandals, and he was damn impressive looking. His tan was as good as the tan of any of us, and the sun had lightened his hair. I figured he must have been the last one to ski, and his muscles were more pumped up than usual. I used to think Jus wasn't as good looking as some of the others, but I had long since revised that opinion. "Hey. What's up?" "Just hanging out, meeting everybody," Chip said. "Jus, watch what I taught Trixie." Brian demonstrated the "pray" trick for Jus, and he was obviously proud of Brian. "How'd you get her to do that," he asked. "It takes a lot of patience, and a lot of this," Brian said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of nuggets of dog food. He tossed one to Trixie, and she caught it on the fly. "Can you teach her how to roll over," Jus asked. "Probably," Bri said. "Let's go to work, Trix. We have a request for a new trick." "Is anybody in the pool," Kyle asked. "Yeah, a few of 'em. Seth and Cody were in there, Chad, Sam, Fred, Kevin. Maybe some others," Jus said. "What were they doing," Kyle asked. "Just talking." "Do y'all want to play some pool volleyball," Kyle asked. "Yeah, I'll play," Justin said. "Me, too," I added. "Tim and Gage, do y'all want to play volleyball," Kyle called out. "Yeah. He's whipping my ass on this pool table," Tim said. "He can whip your ass on the pool table. Just don't let him wipe your ass on it," Justin said. We all laughed, and I could tell Chip was really taken with the crowd. "Er, what should I call you," Chip asked me. "We call him Big Kyle," Jus said. "Call me Rick, and call Kevin, Kevin," I said. "Bubba works for them, too," Jeff said. "Where's Mrs. Rick," Chip asked. "What should I call her?" "There is no Mrs. Rick, Chip," I said. The boys all looked at one another. They took devilish delight in explaining the intricacies of our family to newcomers, and they were all eager to see Chip's reaction. "Isn't that a wedding ring," Chip asked. "Yes, it is," I said. "Kevin and I are married." There was a look of bafflement on his face. Then he smiled. "So, are you guys, like, gay?" "Yep. All of us are. Everybody in this room," I said. "Except you." He didn't say anything to that comment. "Let's go play," Kyle said. He stood up and started to get undressed. "Chip, if you want to get undressed or changed, I'll show you where the locker room is," I said. "Damn. I forgot," Kyle said. "Come on, dude. I'll show you." As they walked away toward the locker room, Chip said to Kyle, "You're gay? Do you get picked on at school?" "No. I get elected president." "Cool."
A bunch of us were in the locker room, taking off our clothes to go swimming. We had the new guy with us. He was small, probably only five four, weighed maybe 110, but he was damn cute looking. And pretty ballsy, too, I thought. "I almost drowned today," I said to no one in particular. "What?" Justin asked. "I got caught in a rip, and my board pulled me down," I said. "Where were the others," he asked. "It was just me, Tim, and Rick. Tim was on shore, but Rick was in the water with me. There wasn't anything they could do," I said. "Tim, were you about to die," Jeff asked. "Was I ever," Tim said. "Jeff, I thought about you, man. You and Clay. I was praying so hard I didn't even start crying until it was all over." "So, no more surfing for you, huh," Justin asked. "No. I went right back in. I was fine after that." "Are you guys not wearing suits," Chip, the new guy, asked. "You can if you want to, but we don't," Tim said. "Do you need a suit?" "Are you guys going to laugh at me," he asked. "That's one thing about this group, Chip," Tyler said. "They'll never make fun of you to hurt your feelings." "I can vouch for that, too," Gage said. Chip took off his shirt, and there wasn't any development there. Then he took off his shorts and his underwear. Nothing. Zero. Little tiny dick and not a strand of hair. I tried not to look because I didn't want him to feel self-conscious. He looked at me, though. I didn't mind it. I know boys are curious, and I wasn't shy. Then he touched my dick. "What's up, buddy," I asked. He smiled at me. "How about turning it loose," I said. Jesus! "Sorry. I thought you'd like that." "He does," Justin said. "Don't you, sweetie." "You asshole," I said. "Chip, this is what he really likes," Jus said, and he pulled my dick five or six times. "Shit! What the fuck is this? Fondle Kyle Day or something? Play with your own dicks," I said. I knew what Justin was up to. Chip thought I'd like him touching me because I'm gay, and Justin was doing it so Chip wouldn't be embarrassed. Then Tim got in the act and started rubbing my butt. "Goddamn it, if y'all give me a hard-on, I'm going to make every last one of you suck it," I said. Jus and Tim busted up laughing, but ole Chip got this real worried look on his face. "You better look worried. You started it, and you're going to be first," I said to Chip. I started tightening up and relaxing the muscles inside me to make my dick bounce up and down. Chip's eyes got big as saucers. "Here it comes. You better get that mouth ready," I said. By then, everybody was laughing their asses off, even Chip. The thing is, his little dick started to get hard, so I stopped making mine bounce. Nobody noticed but me, so I picked him up like a fireman would, ran him outside, and threw him in the pool. Then I jumped in with him. "They didn't see it," I said. "You know I was just teasing you, don't you?" He looked like he was about to cry. "Hey, buddy, I'm sorry that happened, but that's the way we play around. It's not because we're gay, either. It's because we're older guys. You'll get used to it." "Thanks for getting me out of there. I guess I'm still pretty dumb about sex and shit," he said. "You're going to see guys around here with hard-ons. We just ignore 'em when it happens, though. We don't play with our own or anybody else's in public, either, okay? See. There goes one right now." Chad was about 80% hard, and Gage was chasing him around the pool to throw him in, or something. "Damn," he said. "The grown-ups don't get mad when somebody gets hard?" "What would be the point? They get real mad if you play with 'em out here, but they get 'em, too. You can't help it, and they can't either. Although, it's usually the younger guys like Chad over there who get them for no reason," I said. "I get them for no reason all the time," he said. "How old are you," I asked him. "Fourteen-and-a-half," he said. "Have you started making sperm yet," I asked, figuring he hadn't. He put his head down and whispered "no." "Don't worry, man. You will. It'll come." Then I realized what I had said. "No pun intended." He didn't get it. "All right, guys, let's play some volleyball. Who wants to be captains?" |