CHAPTER 14 - The Tour
As much as Daniel and I had reduced our requirements for the trip, there was one thing we could not toss to “lighten the load”-food. Bicycling is one of those endurance sports where you actually need to eat while you are doing it. As many miles and hours as we planned to cycle each day, we needed a lot of food. And though we planned to buy one meal a day on the road, we needed to carry food for evenings, breakfasts, and snacks. We could replenish those stocks daily, but we would still need to carry food.
When we were done packing, my rear, top rack bag was used mainly for spares, bike tools, brake pads, chain tools and parts, patch kits, bike cable locks, etc. Instead of a top rack bag, Daniel strapped on the tent. Our handle bar bags were loaded primarily with maps, compass, snacks, caps, shades, sunscreen, repellent, wallets (with traveler's checks), tissue, KY, and other items we wanted handy.
Between the two sets of rear panniers we distributed food, light mess kits, flashlights, shampoo (to serve also as soap and shave cream), toothbrush and paste, brush/comb, razor, deodorant, swim chamois, an ultra-light air mattress each, and clothes. The clothing was minimal. We had some fast drying nylon swim trunks, a couple of T-shirts and tank tops, extra socks, an extra bike jersey and shorts, light sandals, and yes, the super speedos that Daniel had bought for us. Oh, and one deck of cards. Over all this, we strapped on light mummy bags and foam ground pads with bungie cords. Into fittings, we added three water bottles each and bike pumps.
We wore helmets. (Something my dad paid for and insisted on.) We looked like serious cyclists. We felt like serious cyclists. We were ready.
We had spent the night at my grandparents, and my grandmother was up early, fixing a huge breakfast for which we were grateful. Dad drove us north, out of town on highway 281. When we hit the first hills of the Balcones Escarpment, we asked my Dad to drop us off at the top of a hill. (There was no way we were going to start our trip at the bottom of a hill.)
The hills stretched off green, then purple before us. Not everyone takes to the hill country of Texas. There are no mountains or pines. But for those raised in the area, the rivers, bottom lands, and hill tops were full of variety and beauty.
The smells of cedar, oak, and occasional pecan blended richly in the air. Insects were rarely a problem. Though it could be hot in summer, there were often breezes and the nights were always pleasant. Numerous, cool, spring-fed rivers flowed off the Edward's plateau and through riverbeds lined with tall cypress trees. Daniel and I were at the edge of a grand adventure.
After we unloaded, my dad insisted on double checking us on everything, including a proper understanding of bicycle safety and traffic laws as they applied to bicyclists. We were anxious to get going, and I knew dad was happy for us, but he seemed reluctant to let go. Daniel and I finally just went ahead and mounted our bikes.
Dad walked up between our bikes and threw an arm over each of our shoulders. “Let me pray for you boys before you go.” We took off our helmets and dad prayed. I don't remember exactly what he said, but it was a real dad type benedictory prayer. With it, I felt a sense of protection fall on us and hugged my dad when he was finished. Then we set off.
It was our first real hill on bicycles, ever. The hill hadn't seemed high, but as we descended we picked up incredible speed. We both braked to offload speed (something we quickly learned not to do if we could avoid it, in order to preserve momentum), but still hit the bottom at a great clip. As soon as we started up the next hill, we peddled rapidly. And downshifted. And downshifted. And downshifted. We reached the top of the hill at a crawl.
We stood there wheezing; our lungs burning. “Two... weeks... of... this!” I panted.
“Half... is... down... hill,” Daniel answered.
“Let's... just... do... that... half,” I suggested.
We caught our breath, and began another descent. We were building speed well when we saw the stop sign at the bottom of the hill. “Who put a fucking stop sign at the bottom of a hill?” Shouted Daniel, “How stupid!”
“Don't stop all the way,” I shouted, “just make sure no one is coming.”
But someone was coming. Several someones. We had to come to a full stop.
When there was finally a break in traffic, we began again in our lowest gears, slowly, and we never made it to a higher gear all the way back up to the top of the next hill. We even had to dismount and walk our bikes up the last part. Just about the time I was thinking of trying to find a phone and catching my dad at grandma's before he left town, so we could bail on the whole idea, we crested the hill and saw a cyclist's dream lying before us; a long, gradually sloping, downhill run with no stop signs. It went for three or four miles. The next hill was a short one. Then it was flat for a while. Then, when we had to climb a long hill, we did damn well at it.
By lunchtime, we were beginning to get a feel for the hills and how to handle them. We stopped to eat at a small town cafe. Our bikes and clothes got some stares, but people weren't unfamiliar with bicyclists in the hill country. After lunch, we rested at a park for a few minutes and refilled our water bottles.
That afternoon, we did even better on the hills, learning little tricks to make things easier. And we began to enjoy the countryside more. We even had enough breath to talk, mainly about the days ahead.
Our first overnight was at a state park on a small section of dammed river. We got there before dark and found our camping spot. It was good that we made it there while it was still daylight. It was only our second time at setting up the tent (we had done it once before, in Houston, to make sure the tent was OK), and our first time at setting camp.
We were also tired. We ate some food while sitting on the roots of a large Cypress tree next to the river. Then we changed into swimsuits at the camper's restroom. I wasn't ready to try the new suits in public so we wore regular nylon swim trunks.
The river bottom was muddy, but the water was clear and cool. We floated in it and swam until it became dark. It revived us. We drifted back between roots of the same Cypress tree we had used for our supper table. In chest deep water, without even discussing it, we drifted into an embrace.
In the growing dark, we pulled off our trunks and draped them over the tree roots. Our cocks were hard, our balls floating up around them as we came together and held each other close. We stood, kissing and fondling and soothingly rubbing sore bottoms.
The river flowed gently in the shallows. It washed past us and between our legs. From the dam further down, came a steady little roar. Daniel took my face in his hands and kissed me full on the lips while my hands held his waist. He leaned to whisper in my ear, “Beloved. My beloved.” He pressed his forehead hard to mine and asked me, “Does that sound silly? I've wanted to call you that before.” He kissed me again.
I pulled his belly to mine. “It sounds perfect. You are beloved to me too, you know; mi corazon.”
Daniel wrapped his arms over my shoulder and hugged my neck as he said, “I don't want this trip to ever end.” Then he pressed his mouth to my neck and wrapped his legs around my waist. He gently rubbed the side of his face against mine, and laid his head on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him and held him as he relaxed against me.
Lights had come on in tents and farther back at the restrooms. The last light was fading from the western sky. The scent of the river was clean, but strong. It almost masked the smell of meat cooking from one of the campsites. I could hear children at one of the sites calling out to each other in play. Their voices echoed through the trees.
I bounced us lightly and walked slowly back and forth through the water while Daniel kept his legs around my waist and clung to me. There was no moon yet, and it grew quite dark. The smell of smoke and meat grew stronger as it wafted down to us.
I wondered if Daniel had fallen asleep on me. If he had, I wouldn't wake him. We were resting. Our cocks had grown soft. Daniel's softness washed against me when I turned.
Finally, he stirred. His lips rubbed the nape of my neck. His legs unwrapped from around me and he stood. His arms were still around my neck and I still held him in mine. We kissed, several times, lovingly, gently.
“That smell,” he said, “is making me hungry again.”
“Me too,” I agreed, as I rubbed my cheek against his. His was cool and soft.
We found our suits, put them on, and returned to our campsite, starving. We dug out and ate all the food that we had, including what we were going to save for the morning. In the dark, we removed our suits and hung them over our bicycle crossbars to dry. Then we climbed into the tent.
It smelled of new nylon and sealer. Even with the foam pads, air mattresses, and mummy bags under us, the ground was a little hard.
I felt Daniel grope for me in the darkness, and when he found me, he rolled on top of me and kissed me.
“How tired are you?” I asked.
“Dead tired. You?”
We lay there. Daniel fell asleep on top of me. I fell asleep with the weight of his body comforting me.
Someone called out in the night from one of the other campsites and woke me. Daniel was lying on his stomach beside me. I climbed out of the tent to take a leak. The moon was up, so I moved behind the tent. It was late. All the campsite lights were out.
When I climbed back into the tent, I lay on my stomach and snuggled up to Daniel, throwing a leg over his butt and an arm over his shoulders. My cock and balls pressed pleasantly between us. I woke that way in the early light when Daniel slid out from under me. He slipped on shorts, got out, and walked around behind the tent. I heard him pissing.
I laid there on my stomach, eyes closed to the unwelcome morning. Daniel returned. I heard him zip up the tent. Then I felt his naked body lie down on mine. When he did, his cock quickly grew hard in my butt crack. Morning was looking better.
I squeezed my ass cheeks together. Daniel slid up and down between them.
“Good morning,” I said.
“Yes it is,” he answered as he nibbled my neck.
“I think I'd like my eggs sunny side up,” I said, and rolled over.
“With sausage?” he asked, settling back down on me, face to face, his legs stretched out between mine.
“With lots of sausage and cream,” I answered.
He lowered his mouth to mine, and we opened them to each other. His cock rubbed against mine as I wrapped my arms around him. I thought how much better he must be feeling after a night's rest. I sure was.
I pulled my knees up and wrapped them over his butt as Daniel continued to rub against me. Our mouths were dry and our morning breath was unpleasant. But the morning was cool; there was the smell of river and trees in the air; and we were making love.
Daniel reached for the KY at the side of the tent. While holding my mouth to his, he knelt up enough to apply lubricant to my crack and to his cock. I lifted my legs higher, and he entered me.
Wrapped close together, and still mouth to mouth, he pushed all the way in, and then out, sliding his length soothingly inside me. His balls were hanging low and pleasantly draped my butt at the bottom of each thrust. His hard pubic area pressed against the root of my cock, and we both moaned.
Something hit the tent. I clinched and Daniel froze. There was a scratching noise on the fabric. “A bird,” I said, seeing the shadow. “It's on top of the tent.” I smiled at Daniel. “We're really joining nature, here.”
Daniel grinned and pressed himself all the way into me as he made circular grinding motions. I pushed my butt up to receive them. The air grew warm in the tent. Sweat built between our bodies.
Daniel knelt up and pushed my legs up with his hands. I stroked myself and felt my ballsack rise and fall against my perineum as I tugged. Daniel began fast fucking, and the stimulation to my butt increased. I stroked faster to match his thrusting.
He pushed my legs farther back and plunged directly down into me. That quickly brought on my orgasm, and I blasted cum all over my chest, throat, and face. Daniel's pumping pushed out all I had.
Though I had cum, the sensations of him inside me remained pleasant, satisfying. But then he let out a small cry and I felt his cock throb and his cum began hitting my insides. As he slowed, I realized drops of sweat were falling from his body onto mine. I was covered in his sweat, my sweat, and cum.
Catching his breath, he looking deeply into my eyes. “I'm starved!” he said.
I rubbed my hand over the mess on my chest, “Well I have a bit here you can lap up.”
Daniel pulled out, “Let's go wash up. You really need to brush your teeth!”
“I do? I do? Ha!” I rocked up and grabbed him with both hands on his shoulders and kissed him hard on the mouth. “Take that!” I said, and kissed him again, “And that!” and kissed him again, a little longer, “and that,” I said more quietly. His arms went around me. “And that,” I said once more and we opened our mouths to each other.
I rubbed his butt. “Damn you give me queer feelings.”
He moved a hand to my cock and squeezed. “Are you getting a queer feeling right now?”
“I don't know. Do that for another hour or so and I'll tell you.”
“Can't. Your mouth would really be stinking bad by then.”
I was on him in a flash, rolling him onto his back, and I rubbed the mess from my chest and belly onto him. He protested loudly, trying to push me off. We laughed; breaking-voice, sixteen-year-old laughter. And our legs locked around each other as we wrestled. We stopped, entangled, our faces inches apart. “Come on, lover,” Daniel said, giving my body a rub with his. “Let's clean you up.”
The day was getting warm. We pulled on shorts and packed away everything but our bicycling clothes and what we would need for cleaning up, and rolled our bikes up to the restroom. There we brushed our teeth and shaved. No one was around so we left our clothing, toiletries, and chamois on a bench by the door and stepped into a couple of shower stalls.
The cool water was great. Being clean was great. I turned my showerhead to the side and turned the water to full cold. Then gathering handfuls, I began tossing them over the top onto Daniel. He fired back. We whooped and hollered until Daniel fussed about wasting time when we were so hungry.
When we stepped out of the showers, a young dad and a five or six-year-old son were waiting for the stalls, covered only with towels. Both of them looked at our midsections with their mouths open.
“We're swimmers,” Daniel said, “we shave for swim meets.”
The dad looked up at us with a puzzled look, and then realized what Daniel had said. “Oh, sorry,” he said, “I was really wondering what you boys ate to grow dicks that big.”
We smiled and grabbed our chamois to dry ourselves. As the dad and his son passed toward the showers, Daniel said, “It's not what we eat. We just use them a lot.” I elbowed Daniel hard.
The dad hung both their towels and guided his boy into a shower stall. “Well I use mine all the time and it's never grown like that for me,” he grinned. He had a nice size cock I thought.
After the dad stepped into the shower, Daniel leaned close to me and giggled, “He's been using it on the wrong thing.”
Not far from the park entrance we found a little country store with some foil wrapped food in a hot box. We ate on a bench outside. It seemed to me that every little store in hill country small towns had a bench out front.
By the end of the third day we were entering the highland lakes area. The fourth night we spent at Inks Lake State Park. Riding in, we saw the golf course. It was one reason we included the park on our tour. Daniel loved golf and had read that they rented clubs. We planned to spend the next day playing golf, in sandals, and swimming in the lake.
We were early enough to ride through the park and pick our own campsite. We found one that was over a little rise and very private. Not only that, it had its own little cove, off the lake. We stripped to shorts and set up camp. And then we ate fruit and sandwiches at the site's picnic table while we watched the sun go down.
I was sitting sideways on the bench, a leg on either side. When he finished eating, Daniel came over to my bench and sat in front of me, leaning back into my arms. For all the steel and strength the ride was putting into his muscles, Daniel's skin was still soft. I ran my hands up his belly and chest and rubbed my nose in his hair. It had dried stiff with sweat, and the smell had a pleasant sour tang from his helmet. I nuzzled the back of his neck as he relaxed against me.
We sat quietly, watching the sun set, and marveled at an absolute cacophony of sound from what must have been hundreds of red-wing blackbirds in some reeds across the cove.
“Do you remember that song you wrote for me last summer?” Daniel asked.
“I hope those birds didn't remind you of that,” I said.
“Yeah, they did. I thought how ugly they were, and how beautiful your song was. Do you remember it?”
“Of course. I still sing it sometimes.”
“How come you never sing it to me?”
“You never ask. I figured you might of thought it was silly. It was sorta corny.”
“It was not. I liked it.”
“Well the words were corny. I never can rhyme. It's hard enough to get a good melody.”
“You wrote it for me, right? It's my song?”
“Well,” I said, smiling, “I guess. If you want it.”
“Then don't call it corny. Sing it to me.”
I didn't think anyone was close enough to overhear, but my singing voice can carry. So I sang softly beside Daniel's ear as he wrapped my arms around him and put his over mine. Lights were coming on across the lake. A boat passed across our view, out in the middle, its running lights reflecting across the water. When I finished, Daniel turned his head back and we kissed.
“I'll never be able to write you a song,” he sighed in my arms.
I hugged him and enjoyed the feel of his bare back against my chest. “The way you make love to me is way better than any silly little song.”
“It's my song. Don't call it silly, or I'll make you sing it all night long.”
“For you, I would,” I said. I licked salt from his neck and pushed my hips forward a little to press my hardening cock against him. Then I squeezed his butt between my legs.
“Ummmm,” Daniel laid his head back on my shoulder.
I put my mouth to his neck and sucked on it as I rocked him back and forth in my arms. His head still back on my shoulder, Daniel observed, “There are a lot of stars coming out.”
I looked up and when I did, Daniel kissed me under the ear. As I stared up, all I could see were patches of sky between the trees, but those patches were thick with stars.
Daniel pulled my arms apart and stood up. Then he took my hand and pulled me to stand beside him. He kissed me. As he did, his hands roamed my back, and so I roamed his. Our backs were gritty and we brushed salt crystals from our dried sweat off each other. Then Daniel's hands pushed under the back of my shorts and clutched at my ass. He pulled my pelvis to his and gave me a grind. He pushed my shorts down and we let them drop, and then dropped his.
Our cocks pointed out to either side as we pressed together and ran our tongues deep into each other's mouth. His muscular butt felt clammy and sticky from sweat.
Then Daniel took my hand and led me down to the water. There we kicked off our sandals and stepped in. The bottom was covered with gravel and sloped gently. We walked out to where the water was nipple deep. At that point, the bottom fell away.
Using the palms of our hands we scrubbed the sweat and dirt from each other's body. Our bath ended with us stroking each other's cock and rubbing each other's butt and kissing. The water was cool and our lovemaking was languid.
With a kiss, Daniel turned his back to me and took my cock in his hand. He backed up, working me in slowly with only the water as lubricant. I wrapped my arms around his waist while he kept his hands back on my hips to control our joining. Once he was firmly back against me, I started moving in long slow strokes. Even standing, making love in water is different, slower.
Daniel laid one arm over my two and stroked himself with the other. He laid his head back on my shoulder and looked up at the sky. He moaned and rocked with me, rhythmically. “Do you like my song?” he asked softly.
I held his hard slim body against mine, and felt his soft skin, his tight warmth sheathing me as he ground back against me, his flat belly under my arms, his warm breath against my ear. “Yes. I like your song,” I answered, throatily. “Will you sing it to me all night?”
“All night,” he arched his back, pushing his head back on my shoulder and his butt firmly back against me. “All night.”
We made love in silence, pleasuring ourselves with each other, and pleasuring each other. I purposefully moved slowly, in long slides in and out, savoring the feel of Daniel sliding up, then down my shaft, savoring the feel of his body next to mine, savoring the weight and intimacy of his head lying back on my shoulder, savoring the feel of the water and the reflection of lights across the lake.
I would have liked to continue all night. But when I wrapped a hand around Daniel's cock to help him, a thrill of pleasure ran through my body and my loins suddenly craved a harder pressure of his butt as I stroked his long thick cock in front of us. I held him with one arm around his waist as I pressed each thrust into him. Each time I thrust, pelvic reflexes drove me in hard and deep inside, my balls churned.
My pace remained constant, restrained by the water; but my orgasm was coming and I wanted it. I wanted Dan to want it his too and moved my hand to the base of his cock, driving each stroke firmly down his shaft.
Daniel's legs came off the bottom and he wrapped his feet behind my calves. He arched his back harder, forcing his butt and his head back, moaning softly as he came. I pulled him tight and pushed in as far as I could to shoot my own cum and mingle my moans with the last of his.
As our climaxes died away, I swayed us back and forth in the water, holding him while I stayed in him, and his legs stayed wrapped behind mine.
Eventually I softened and he relaxed. We swam out from our cove and into the lake where we could look up and down the length of the lake and see better just where we were on it. When we finally swam back to the campsite, we were tired.
We wiped either other down with chamois and crawled into the tent where we fell asleep with Daniel spooned back against me.
Morning came early and loud as the blackbirds in the reeds woke us. I burrowed my head under Daniel's and cuddled up to him, not at all ready for the day.
Before we left for the golf course, we unloaded our gear, rinsed out our cycling shorts and jerseys with soap water at the camper's restroom, and then hung them from trees at our campsite to dry.
Most golf courses have some kind of dress code. But nobody said a word to us when we shucked our shirts and put on sunscreen at the second hole. We played that way all morning, in shorts, sandals, shades, and bike caps.
It was a nice little course. At that time Daniel had about a 14 handicap and a beautiful swing. I had no idea a golf stroke involved so many muscles until I watched Daniel's muscles moving under his tight skin. I watched his golf anatomy lesson and learned. It was one of the best couple of rounds of golf I ever played.
On the way back, we stopped by the camp store. Besides selling a few groceries, it rented canoes and paddleboats, and sold bait and fishing gear. The attendant was a friendly old guy. We worked our way around the store, looking for something for lunch and found some frozen steaks and charcoal. Each campsite had a grill, so we planned a steak dinner for supper. For lunch, there were sandwiches and fruit.
Some banging noises came from the back room and a guy about our age or a little younger emerged and walked over to talk to the attendant behind the counter. The boy was shirtless. He had a slender smooth body and shoulder length, fine brown hair.
He was a short guy, a half head shorter than Daniel and me. As he turned back to leave, he saw us and smiled broadly. The kid was damn cute.
It seemed like almost the moment he walked out the back door he walked back in the front. He had put on a white sleeveless undershirt and sported a banged up, sweat-ringed, and dirty western hat. His jeans held his little butt up and tight as he walked over to the counter. The man at the counter nodded in our direction and the boy came walking over, smiling broadly again.
“Those your bikes out front?”
“Yeah,” I said
“Cool. I saw ya'll bicycle in last night. You doing a tour?”
“Hill country,” Daniel said, stepping up beside me. “Just a couple of weeks.”
“That's so cool. My brother and I want to take a tour, but probably next year. We want to do Colorado.”
“Man,” I said. “They've got mountains in Colorado. I'm having enough trouble with hills.”
The boy laughed. “Well we get plenty of practice on hills. Hey, Alan,” he called out.
From the back came the first boy we had seen, an obvious twin of this one. “These guys are the ones I told you I saw ride in last night.”
The other twin walked up, hand outstretched. “Hi. I'm Alan”
His shake was strong and friendly. He held the shake longer than most. His brother held out his hand, “I'm Peter.” As I took his hand and his eyes met mine, I could swear for just a moment, that something passed between us.
“How long you guys going to be here?” Alan asked.
“Just today and tonight,” Dan answered. “We golfed this morning and thought we'd swim this afternoon. And then maybe grill a couple of those frozen steaks back there for supper. Eat some real food.”
“You guys need to rent a canoe this afternoon,” Peter said, “You can explore the whole lake. You can even fish from canoe if you have the gear.”
“No, no gear, and we didn't bring a whole lot of money,” I said.
“I've got an idea,” said Alan. “Instead of buying steaks, rent a canoe for the afternoon. Then this evening, we'll bring steaks, some corn, and charcoal and you guys can cook us all a meal and you can tell us all about bicycle touring.”
“We're no experts,” Daniel pointed out.
“Unless there's free steak and corn involved,” I corrected.
Alan laughed… or maybe it was Peter..
“You got a deal, guys,” I told them, “but we just each have a pocket knife and a folding fork, oh and water bottles to drink from. You may have to bring your own silverware. Do you have some plates too?”
One of the twins laughed, and the other waved his hand dismissively. “We'll bring the dishes too, and some lighter fluid and matches. We'll bring everything. You guys can just do all the talking. What site did you take?”
When Daniel told him, the twins exchanged a quick look and a couple of chuckles.
“What?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing,” Alan smiled. “Have you noticed any blackbirds?”
“Yeah,” Daniel said, “I felt like shooting them.”
At this, the twins burst out in hard laughter.
Daniel and I exchanged puzzled looks.
“Later,” Alan managed to get out, “we'll explain later.”
The twins kept laughing, so Daniel and I bought sandwiches, fruit, and soda from the man at the counter and sat out at a table on the porch while they got over whatever was so funny.
The twins outfitted us with a canoe and paddles, charging half what they were supposed to. We took a couple of extra sodas and headed out onto the lake.
Inks Lake is not huge. We explored pretty much all of it that afternoon. We swam in a cove at the north end of the lake, and again at another scenic cove we found a bit further on. But our hands started to get sore from paddling the canoe around and we were ready to return when it was time. The twins were gone, but the guy at the counter was the same one from earlier. He told us he was the twin's uncle and said they left the message that they would see us later.
Back at the campsite, Daniel asked if I was ready to wear my new swimsuit. “Alan and Peter, huh?” I asked with an amused grin. “They are good-looking little guys,”
“I'd rather be naked,” Daniel said with a wink, “but for strangers, we should dress up.”
“You're wicked,” I told him. “But if you're going to seduce those guys, I get Peter.”
“How can you tell the difference? They're twins.” Daniel asked. “Hey, wait a minute. Did he say something to you?”
“No. It was just a little something in the way he shook hands.”
“Well damn it, Sean. Now I'm going to have to keep an eye on all your promiscuous hand shaking.”
“I'd shake something else for you, but I don't think we have time,” I said.
When the twins arrived, we were in only the new speedos Daniel had bought us in Houston. I had gotten out a couple of our maps and we sat with them spread out on the table.
The twins were in swim trunks, T-shirts, and running shoes. One of them had his hair in a ponytail. Despite the swimsuits, they walked western; a little bow-legged and with a hint of swagger.
When we stood to greet them, one of them, Alan I think, said, “Damn, you boys sure pack light don't you?” He held out his hand to shake and gave our speedos a good looking over. I took Alan's hand and heard Daniel whisper in my ear, “Hand shaking again, huh?”
“What?” Alan asked, curious as to what Daniel said.
“Oh, just a hang-up Daniel has,” I said with a wink.
The twins looked puzzled as Peter took my hand next.
“You tell us what was so funny earlier today,” I offered, “and I'll tell you about his hang-up.”
Daniel raised his eyebrows at me.
“First, give us a hand with the stuff,” Alan said.
And they did have stuff. Besides the charcoal, meat, corn, chips, Oreos, dishes, fire starter, matches, and towels, they brought an ice chest with a few sodas and several beers.
I looked down at the beer in the ice chest. “How old are you younguns, anyway?”
“Fifteen,” said Peter at my shoulder. He was the one with the ponytail. “We just look older.”
Daniel and I exchanged a silent, “Like hell you do,” look.
As we stood there, Peter's shoulder brushed against mine.
“What was so funny back at the store today?” I asked again.
“Oh,” Alan answered from where he sat at the picnic table, looking out at the lake. “It was funny because you picked our campsite. We come here to skinny-dip cause it's private.”
“And?” I asked. “What was funny about the blackbirds?”
Peter shuffled his feet and turned away as Alan laughed nervously and explained, “Well you know how when you skinny dip, you sometimes spring a boner?”
I smiled and nodded encouragingly. Daniel chuckled.
“Well,” Alan continued. “We sometimes lie there where it's real shallow and jerk off. We kidded once that we were going to shoot those noisy blackbirds when we shot our loads, and ever since, we've been calling it `shooting blackbirds'.” Daniel and I both laughed, and Alan continued more enthusiastically, “So you see, if we're working, and I ask Peter if he wants to go shooting blackbirds after work, he knows what I mean and I know what he means if he says it.”
“Hell,” Daniel said in John Wayne fashion, his hands on his hips, “we may just want to murder a bunch of them blackbirds later.”
“Alright!” said Alan, laughing a thumbs up approval.
Daniel winked and pulled off his speedos. “You did say skinny-dipping, right?”
I pulled off mine too.
Peter let out a whistle as he looked at our midsections. “Hey Alan,” he said, “I don't think these boys packed light at all.”
“Damn,” Alan agreed, “you boys must have been at the front of the line when they passed out the genes for dicks.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said, leaning against the table and waiting for the twins to strip, “and Sean kept shoving me from behind.”
The twins evidently missed the joke. “And what happened to your pubes?” Peter blurted out.
“Asshole,” I said, jerking a thumb at Daniel, “read that bicyclists sometimes shave down and got a little carried away.”
“Did you shave each other?” Peter asked.
“Yes,” Daniel answered. “So we both got carried away,” he said defiantly. He began rubbing his pubic area, his cock and balls swinging heavily, “Yeah, we're getting a little stubble and it's starting to itch. Maybe we need to shave again before we leave, Sean.”
The twins glanced at each other grinning, and then took off their shirts. Despite their swagger, and claims of bicycling, their bodies had a definite softness to them. Maybe it was simply in relation to our own ripped bodies. Their butts looked fleshy and their skin was smooth. Each had a healthy bush of pubic hair over cocks and balls on the large side of average.
Their slender soft bodies, height, and long hair were strangely appealing. I moved toward the water before my interest began to be too obvious.
The others followed. At first we mainly swam around in the cove, talking and learning about each other. Actually, Alan did most of the talking. We found out that the twins lived within a mile of the park entrance. They were into completely different things, except for bicycling, working at the park for their uncle, and `shooting blackbirds.'
Daniel and Alan began the splashing. They started on each other but included Peter and me. When Alan and Dan began to shove each other around playfully, Peter came at me. His shoving was definitely gentler and mixed with a good deal of “accidental” groping. When I groped back, he was hard and definitely on the large side of average.
The sun had gotten low. The blackbirds were beginning to roost. Alan asked, “Hey, you boys really want to shoot some blackbirds with us?”
“You mean shoot, right? Not shoot?” I asked jokingly.
“Yeah, I want to see if those guns of yours shoot magnum rounds,” Alan kidded as we all moved to the shallows.
The four of us lay down side-by-side; Alan, then Daniel, then me, then Peter. Peter's cock was already pointing skyward out of the water. Mine was hard against my belly and I pushed it skyward too. “Oh, shit,” Peter gasped looking at it. “You really could shoot a blackbird with that thing.”
Daniel's was climbing skyward, too. Alan was stroking his semi to hardness. “Shit,” he said, eying our cocks, “this could be better than watching fireworks on the fourth.”
We were all stroking now. The twins used a funny reversed hand kind of a hold and pulled over their crowns. I'd never just lain next to Daniel and watched him jerk before. I decided it was hot, watching the skin slide up and down his thick shaft, jerking his ballsack up and down with it. The two of us used a more conventional grip.
I liked it. Lying on the gravel in the shallow water, watching the light fading from the sky. Even Alan grew quiet for a moment. Then Daniel asked, “You guys ever do more than just jerk off together?”
“You mean like girls?” Alan asked, “I got my girl friend to give me head, but she about skinned me with her teeth.”
“You've got to train girls,” Daniel spoke as if he were an expert. “Guys give better head. They know what feels good.”
“You mean like queers?” Alan asked. That brought a moment of distinct silence; except for the blackbirds, of course.
“It doesn't mean you're queer if you mess around with other guys when you're getting your equipment-you know, when your cock and balls start growing big and you're learning how to stroke and stuff. Most guys have a least jerked off with another guy,” Daniel corrected.
Peter's body floated against mine.
Daniel clarified, “I meant to ask if you and Peter had ever done more than jerk off together? Like jerking each other off?”
I moved my hand to Peter's cock and could feel his body tense next to mine. Though shorter than Daniel's or mine, Peter's cock was thick. The fat shaft tapered to a smaller crown. The flesh over his hardness was thick, almost like he wasn't circumcised, but he was, and the skin slid easily over his very hard dick. His hand groped for my cock and when he found it, he began stroking. But it was his left hand and he was right handed. It wasn't very stimulating.
“Yeah, we've done that. Feels good,” Alan admitted. I could see Daniel move his hand over to Alan. Alan's hand moved to Daniel. We became quiet again.
“Ya'll ever try anything else together?” Daniel asked. I was aware that Peter was looking at me with a strange desperation in his eyes.
Alan was quiet a moment. “Well, we tried butt fucking each other a couple of times when we were about twelve.”
“Did you like it?” Daniel asked. Peter slid his left arm under me, rolled toward me and pulled me to him as he began stroking me with his right hand. It was harder for me to stroke him, but he had begun moving his hips, and I just let him fuck my hand.
“It was OK,” Alan admitted. “But we didn't want to turn queer or anything. So we quit doing that.”
Peter's lips were against my shoulder and he was humping hard into my hand. He tensed and cum came drooling out of his cock onto my belly. He wasn't a shooter. He was a dribbler. As he relaxed, I moved my hand back to my cock and Peter rolled back, but held his arm under me, gripping my side.
“You're good,” Alan said in a thick voice. I turned to watch him arch his back, pushing his cock up in Daniel's hand as he ejected the same kind of dribbling load that Peter had. Daniel kept stroking until he was sure there was no more. Then he resumed stroking his own cock and Alan let go.
I was thinking that I would just as soon save my load for later with Daniel when he said, “I'm getting hungry. I'm fine to just stroke a little more and then eat. I don't have to cum.”
“Neither do I,” I chimed in.
“Well, I guess we can leave some blackbirds alive for now,” Alan said. “But I was hoping to see you boys shoot. I bet you can really blast a load.”
“You bet,” Daniel said, “but we worked hard today, golfing and canoeing all over the lake. We're good for now.”
“I'll go get some beers,” Alan said as he washed himself and got up.
“I'll help you,” Daniel replied, and got up as well.
As they walked back up toward camp, Peter asked me very quietly, “Can I ask you something, Sean?”
“Sure,” I said, sitting up and washing his cum off.
“Are you boys, you know, homosexuals?”
“Yes,” I answered simply.
Peter bit his lip, wrestling with something else he wanted to ask or say. His brow was knit and his hands twisting.
“You like boys, too?” I asked.
Peter nodded emphatically, then his face twisted, anxiously. “Can I come back here tonight? Say after 10 o'clock. Everyone in my family will be asleep by then. We're a farm family. I can bike over. It doesn't have to be late. But I don't know any guys around here that like other guys. Can you and Daniel teach me stuff? Could I just,” and his hand closed over my cock, “feel your bodies? Have you feel mine.”
He looked so desperate. I slid my hand under the back of his head and rolled partly onto him. I kissed him hard and passionately. His arms clung around me and he kissed back hungrily. We heard Alan and Daniel coming back. Actually we heard Alan talking. And broke the kiss. As I rolled back, I said, “Yeah. We'll wait up for you.”
I hoped Daniel would understand. Poor Peter, stuck out in the middle of nowhere and no guy to love.
Alan cooked the steaks and corn, and they were very good. It surprised me when Daniel and I drank a whole beer each and still felt fine. I expected it to affect us.
We talked about bicycling and touring. We showed them our equipment by flashlight. They told us about the ride they wanted to take in Colorado. It was close to 10:00 when they drove away.
Daniel wasn't angry about Peter inviting himself back over. Like me, Daniel felt sorry for the guy. “We'll just give him the royal treatment.” Daniel decided. “Don't worry about taking care of me, and I won't worry about you. We'll both concentrate on Peter. OK?”
I gave him a shoulder hug. Compared to Peter, I was sooo lucky.