My dad was a Viet Nam vet and for about a year his flashbacks had been getting progressively worse. And he'd started drinking again. He wasn't really what you would call an alcoholic, but weekends could be pretty bad. Week nights were only unpredictable, but for the past few months he was often on the verge of losing control completely. So when he was drinking, I stayed out of his way. My mom understood and more importantly, Constantin's folks understood why as well.

So see, this wasn't all a bad thing. Not only did I usually spend the night with Constantin on weekends, I often did during the week as well. And never once did anyone suggest that I might be more comfortable sleeping on the floor in a sleeping bag because there was plenty of room for the two of us in his big double bed. The way his folks looked at it, we were good for each other. For instance, Constantin had become more conscientious in his school work, not that he'd ever been a total slacker, but now he was more willing to put some real effort into it. He would even have me drilling him on French vocabulary words while he was in the tub! Imagine that!

It was a challenge though, trying to remember things while your penis was being washed... I mean, it can be distracting at times. But I still liked doing it. And usually I was conscientious enough to throw in some extra credit words and phrases like "pénétration anale ", "masturber", "poil pubien", "excitation", "pénis ", "sperme", "érection "...

Or "prépuce ". That was one of my favorites. (Foreskin.) "Gicleur" was another. (Nozzle.) Which would lead to "gland" (glans), then not long after to "spongieux" (squishy) followed by "coulage" (leaking) and before you knew it, "SPERME!" (ejaculate!) "Merde!" (Shit!) "Trop tôt!" (Too soon!) French grammar can be a bitch sometimes, but rudimentary words and phrases, no problem. You just have to motivate yourself.

His folks didn't know any French, by the way. Although his mom did remark once that we certainly seemed to be having fun with it.

We were leery about having actual sex in bed as we both could be noisy and besides that, his bed squeaked but still, it was okay. Just being next to him was... God, it was heaven on earth! We were in love. And anyway, a quick sixty-nine, we could be quiet about that... so we weren't exactly celibate as we were after all fourteen... but I just liked being with him. I liked it when it was the two of us doing some quick grocery shopping. It was good practice for when we could set up house. It was beginning to look like I would be the one doing the cooking and I liked doing that. Scrambled eggs I was good at. Hamburgers. Steaks. That sort of thing. I liked it when we were playing cards or watching TV or just talking about life in general. I just liked BEING with him.

But of course it should also be noted that after one of our club after-school get-togethers we'd be pretty much pooped out for awhile anyway. Even at fourteen, there was a limit, so having just been gang banged, it wasn't like, "Whew! They're gone, so now lets DO it!" because for awhile we couldn't, you know? Sometimes it would be the following morning before we felt like it.

But we were fourteen and in love, so even if it was a school day, sometimes things just happened.

In some ways, I take after my dad. Even though I was pretty much an agnostic, I always sort of thought when I reached the end of my life I might have to review things. Not like at the Judgment Bar, the supreme force I think is out there somewhere isn't too judgmental, but you do have to review the good and bad things that you've done before starting your next life on Earth or in another parallel universe, so okay, I believe in reincarnation as well... even if I'm not dogmatic about it, but still, I do... and it seems like I've wandered off again.

Well, just a little. My dad once almost wrecked the car, with me and my mom in it, while trying to avoid some ducks out in the middle of the road. Which he did, by the way, and fortunately, he also avoided turning the car over. But just barely. And oh good. Now I got ducks in my story.

But just briefly, because see, I'm pretty sure I'd do the same thing if I ever round a curve going sixty miles an hour and all at once see a herd of ducks out in the middle of the road, that might be the end of me, right then and there. But I hope I get some brownie points for that selfless act because I think I would deserve them. And if there should happen to be some other people in the car, I hope they can see that as well.

But I also took great care before stepping into the shower to scoop up all the granddaddy long legs who kept spinning their webs in there and I'd carefully put them elsewhere out of harm's way. Because I didn't want to drown the little critters. And I think that was nice of me. I'd even scoop up the ones that had scurried down into the tub to escape. Because they didn't realize that I was trying to save their stupid little lives. But to do this I had to bend over... and hello, we have just gotten back to sex again. Amazing, ain't it? He always did like my ass. Said it was almost irresistible.

And I loved playacting. I'd think, "Oh shit, I'm going to get fucked! He's gonna RAPE me!", and sure enough, that's exactly what he had in mind. So I'd plead, "Well, can I at least lean over the sink?"

"Well, get OVER there then!"

So I would. And then I'd look fearfully over my shoulder at him.

"Spread your legs. You might not like it, but you might as well get used to it, you got it? Got it?"

"But I"- (UMPTH!)" (Greasy finger) "But we-"

"Shut up!"

"We got about thirty minutes. Max." Somebody had to be responsible about this. We didn't need any more tardy slips.

But I liked to pretend I was fighting it. So I try to clamp my butt cheeks real tight. He smacks them and pulls them apart. "No DON'T!" I plead, but he's not listening to me. So pretty soon I can feel the head of his penis pushing up against my hole trying to get inside. Yeah, well, I ain't cooperating, no way!

"Loosen up! Just pretend you're trying to take a great big shit, like you're trying to push it out, you know?"

Hey! That's an idea, I'll just push it OUT! ... So I try doing that, but would you believe it? That wasn't such a good idea. Damn! It went IN! How in the hell did that happen? Boy, oh boy. It's going in, there ain't nothing I can do about it...

Know what? That's pretty much what happened the first time Jeff shoved it in. And further complicating matters was the fact that I was wasted at the time and when I came to the realization that thing was inside me... well, oh, my goodness! And the more I pushed against it, the deeper in it went. Getting fucked while you're... well, fucked up is a trip, I kid you not. And it's not always a good one either. It felt like it was up somewhere around my tonsils. (Physiology never was one of my stronger subjects.)

But back to me and Constantin. He had a soft spot for granddaddy long legs as well. He liked it with his boxers pulled down but not all the way off. Which did look erotic - and I liked it when they were down around his ankles too - so cool! Even if he usually didn't pretend to resist. His thing was acting stoic about it. Or at least for awhile. I mean, once that button had been hit a couple of times, being stoic is out of the question.

I liked Isac, I liked the twins, I liked Jesse. And if Tyndal ever wanted to become actively involved again, I liked him as well, but I LOVED Constantin. I never got tired of being around him. Not ever. I even went to church with him sometimes. Fortunately he didn't have to go all the time and another unexpected benefit that came out of my old man's drinking problem was that I no longer had to attend the Pentecostal church I'd been brought up in period because he'd stopped attending. He still considered himself to be religious, but figured he could just as well stay home and watch the televangelist of his choice on TV. Which was sort of interesting, I guess. Attending church services (in a manner of speaking) while getting bombed out of your skull. Which I suppose would make it a little more tolerable at that. And sometimes he'd start cussing at the TV preacher.

But anyway. Saturday March 11th through Sunday March 19th we were on Spring break. And as you might recall, originally we were planning a club outing in Bloomington to deal with Jeff, but we changed our minds. We still had some fun activities in mind for him and once summer arrived there was a good chance we'd put those plans into action, but right then we had something even MORE fun to do. We were going camping. From early Tuesday afternoon until Sunday afternoon in the Cherokee National Forest. Which is in upper east Tennessee. Once again we'd be driven down by the Mr. Brody, the twin's father. He'd drop us off, make sure everything was in order, camp site, supplies, etc, etc, then he'd go on to North Carolina for a golfing vacation and we'd be on our own. Myself, Constantin, the twins and Jesse. Five nights and almost five days, on our own! Yes! So no matter how much fun dealing with cousin Jeff promised to be, this would be even more fun. Because we would be out in the middle of nowhere, in a wilderness! People even got LOST around there. Had to call out search parties and everything. Not that we were planning on getting ourselves lost but... well, I'll get to that in a little bit.

Originally we were planning on doing some primitive camping. Which would mean we really would be out on our own (and you should know why we didn't want other campers near us) but as we hadn't mentioned this to Mr. Brody, he dropped us off at a developed campsite not too far from the park's entrance. And he'd already made reservations for us. But oh well, pitching our tent there did have certain advantages like a shower house for instance and what the heck, we could always hike off deep into the wilderness during the day. So shortly after Mr. Brody told us to behave ourselves and to be careful, he was on his way to North Carolina. And then it occurred to us that we needed to make another trip into town for a few more supplies because we didn't have quite enough junk food. Jesse had about two dozen brownies (and he was munching on one right then) which is why the idea of more junk food occurred to us in the first place even if it probably would've come up sooner or later no matter what, but BROWNIES...

Dorsey exclaimed, "Hey! You got brownies? And you're not going to SHARE? I LOVE brownies. We ALL love brownies, don't we?" And we all nodded our heads yes.

Jesse swallowed and said, "Well I-"

In a semi-threatening tone of voice Constantin cut in, "Jesse, give."

"Yeah but-"

"But nothing", interrupted Tommy, "we share!"

And so he did. Share. Almost shyly. And we ate them all up. Every last one of them. They were pretty good. Occasionally there seemed to be a slight bitter taste, but still they were just what the doctor ordered.

Yeah well, if you know what was in those brownies, we didn't. Not even me. I'd smoked the summer before, but when you're toking, you know when the buzz starts, because you can feel it. I always felt it first in my toes, then a few seconds later my knees would start feeling funny, I have no idea why I would start feeling it there first, but still, I knew. But I'd never had any experience with brownies. Well, it sort of sneaks up on you. It's a very relaxed feeling. Occasionally euphoric, perhaps a bit animated, but as I wasn't really all that experienced and the twins had only tried it once... and Isac and Constantin hadn't ever, once we were high, we didn't even know it. Which really seems to defeat the entire purpose if you ask me... but it was very interesting all the same. To say the least about it.

At least it took a long time for me to get paranoid though. Which was the biggest reason I stopped messing with the shit in the first place, because I kept thinking I was going to die before the day was over because I deserved to - not always - but often enough and after awhile I thought, "Are you sure this is FUN?"

And another thing is that often an ordinary event can be magnified to the extent that it seems to be a supernatural event that could only happen right before you kick the bucket. Maybe I've watched too many "Twilight Zone" reruns, or maybe I've read one Stephen King novel too many, I don't know, but I do know this much, there were at least two events that day which were anything BUT ordinary.

Starting with losing Isac and Jesse in the supermarket. One minute they were there, then they weren't. We looked everywhere, but we just couldn't find them. So finally we gave up and headed back to camp. Which was just a couple of miles. They'd turn up sooner or later, we guessed. But then about a block and a half away there they were messing with a street preacher. Which seemed to be a recipe for disaster if I ever saw one. The street preacher was around fifty or sixty I guess and had a sign board strapped over his shoulders which proclaimed in big red letters: "Erwin=Sodom and Gomorrah" (Erwin being the town we were in, by the way.) So he was upset to start with because nobody seemed to be paying him any mind aside from some people honking their horns (and they didn't sound like any "Honk if you love Jesus" type honks) but when you add a slightly addled smart-mouthed gay Jew boy and a stoned gay unchurched boy to the equation, things could escalate in a great big hurry.

I have no idea why Erwin,TN (population 5,000 or so) was equal to Sodom and Gomorrah in the first place and it doesn't matter either - I mean, it might have been nothing more than the city allowing beer to be sold on Sundays, or to be sold period (it doesn't take much to stir some people up) but once they asked where they could find some of that there sodomy... boy oh boy oh boy! Big time! We are talking wroth!!

How wroth? I'll tell you how wroth, that man was threatening to sic a couple of she-bears on them! Just as the rest of us were cautiously approaching he went, "You two little smarty pants ever hear about the she-bears? Well I'm a just about to call on The Lord to send me a couple! You catch my meaning here? Y'all probably don't know the first thing about The Good Book, but y'all ever hear tell of Elisha and the she-bears? Know the meaning of THAT?"

Isac answered very promptly, "42?"

"Just what on EARTH is THAT supposed to mean? You mocking me boy? You better not be because I'm here to tell-"

"42 is how many children two she-bears can hold. I'm Jewish." Oh wow. Now that was helpful. Oh, you can bet on that and then...

"And I'm thinking about converting myself" Jesse quickly added. And I'm sure that was awfully helpful as well.

"JEWS!!! YOU'RE the people who killed my Lord Jesus!"

"We didn't either! He was out in three days, so just HOW-"

And then we grabbed them. Isac and Jesse. Constantin was doing most of the talking: "Hey come on. Let's go, okay? ... We're sorry mister, they're just a little retarded is all, but we're leaving okay?" but Isac was going, "I am not" and Jesse was going, "But I wanted to ask him something" and I'm going, "Well you can ask later, now let's GO!" and the street preacher was calling on she-bears, fire from Heaven, earth quakes, pestilence and just about everything ELSE he could think of... some of which was undoubtedly a bit of overkill but then that never seemed to be a problem back in the Old Testament days... but it was absolute total chaos... and the twins? They'd left. Shaking their heads in disbelief. Imagine that. We'd managed to stir up so much trouble the twins didn't even want to get involved in it.

But you have to admit, that was fairly extraordinary. And by the way, we still didn't know we were messed up. Isac thought maybe it was something he ate. But at least we all quickly agreed it might be a good idea if we were to spend our nights in the main campground, because if that old man couldn't get any she-bears, earth quakes, locusts or anything like that after us, then maybe he'd just get his shot gun. It did seem possible. So we'd just have to molest each other quietly at night, that's all, but speaking of that... let's get back to sex for awhile. Now whose turn was it?

Me and Constantin's. So after awhile we decided to go for a hike. And we still didn't know we weren't all there. And you're damn right there's a reason why I'm emphasizing this point. Jesse? I honestly think it had slipped his mind.

But anyway. We all got way out in the wilderness, I mean, we hadn't seen a soul for... well, for a whole bunch of miles and for at least two, Constantin and I were naked. Except for our shoes and socks. They let us keep them on. And by the way, it was unseasonably warm that day, up in the low 70s. But it still got chilly once the sun went down. But see, these good ol' boys had caught us in an act of sodomy. We were sixty-nining when Billy Bob Junior (Jesse) walked in on us. I don't think I'll ever forget it for as long as I live. As he was opening the tent flap he said, "Okay daddy, I'll get it. Now let's seeEEEEEEEEEE!!!"... and then Billy Bob Senior (Dorsey) came running in to see what was the matter and started hollering. "Well whut in tha' hell do we have HERE?!!? Buster! Gomer! Git your lazy butts OVER here! We done caught us a couple of QUEERS!!" It was awful. So anyway, they were marching us off into the woods and we could tell their intentions weren't too good. And sure enough after awhile Gomer (Isac) said, "All right boys, it's time for us to have a little bit of fun with these here queer boys" and... well, it was just AWFUL. They made us get on our hands and knees and Billy Bob Senior and Junior just commenced to fucking us. They were like ANIMALS! And they wanted us to make like we were sheep. "Say BAAH for us. You can do it. BAAH! BAAH!... Like that" except pretty soon we COULDN'T baah no more because Gomer and Buster were making us suck their DICKS! And I just had to get Buster's. His was the biggest. And he made me go all the way down on it till it just about choked me but he didn't care. Not any. So it was the awfullest thing I could ever even imagine, but I guess maybe the horriblest thing was that we both got hard while that was going on, we couldn't HELP it and before it was over, both of us had done squirted all over the ground. Well, if you're going to get yourselves raped, you might as well get what enjoyment you can out of it, but I mean it was just terrible!

And then they told us to just GIT, they didn't ever want to see us around their neck of the woods again, and we were still naked! Which actually was an unexpected twist and we weren't getting much out of it. Even at fourteen it took a little while to get it back up again, but oh what the hell, in a way it was still sort of interesting. We figured we needed to stay gone for about forty-five minutes at the most. And in the meantime we could think of some things to do to Isac and Jesse when it was their turn.

But we did get to thinking that maybe we shouldn't be caught hiking in the nude on that trail. Not that we had seen anyone else, but you never can tell when you might. So Constantin was pretty sure he knew a short cut through the woods. He said he'd seen where the trail sort of doubled back and we'd cut across. Well, at least it was too early for many insects, but after about... umm, I have no idea how long it was really, but somehow we managed to get ourselves lost. At first it seemed like there was no way we could be lost, I mean shit, we were just barely off the trail, but if that was the case, then where WAS it? So we decided to double back. And then it hit Constantin that we needed to go to our right. And then it hit both of us that we were lost. The Cherokee National Forest covers about 640,000 square acres. That's a lot of acres. But we could end up in the Great Smokey Mountains National Park which bordered Cherokee National Forest. ANOTHER 500,000 acres. Or we could end up in North Carolina or goddamn West Virginia, I mean there was just no telling WHERE in the fuck we were going to end up (or we could just keep going in damn circles) but the bottom line was this: We had a problem. We were sure within a couple of hours (after it got dark) we'd be reported missing. But I didn't think they would be sending out any search parties until daylight. So problem number one was: We were going to spend at least one night out in the woods. Naked. And at night it was still getting down below freezing most of the time. So we would be forced to huddle together for warmth. And for a few moments that thought cheered me up. But then I remembered problem number two which was: We were naked. How were we going to explain THAT? Well, hypothermia would be a good explanation, I read that when it gets really bad, victims end up taking their clothes off, not sure why, but they do... but if it got that bad then that meant we were about to freeze to death anyway...

You know, it was hard not to panic. And I can assure you, Constantin was every bit as concerned as I was. We were both trying to keep a stiff upper lip, but we were getting scared! And that was before we thought about the bears.

"Hey Todd", he said as nonchalantly as he could, "Would you happen to know when bears come out of hibernation?"

Well, I didn't think it was in mid-March, but if there was a spell of unseasonably warm weather, well hell, I don't know... but I thought maybe I shouldn't mention that possibility. Nor should I mention that even if bears are hibernating, if you should happen to stumble across one, you could wake it up... and at that point that bear would be in a right pissy mood, almost as bad off as that preacher... who had in fact threatened us with a she-bear or two... Now wasn't that a coincidence. Damn!

So okay, the bear tore our clothes off then. That's a good explanation. Well no it's not either. Shit!

To be continued.

I hope.