TeenFan wrote: Wed Jan 14, 2026 4:59 am
Awesome story. You learned many things about yourself that day.
I had a fantasy that has one similarity to this. In my fantasy I am the man watching two people getting it on.
I was at the apartment pool, this time at the complex I actually lived at (it was a large complex with more than one pool).
I saw a very good looking teenage couple in the corner of the pool, and they had their hands all over each other.
I heard the guy say "You can feel how big I am."
It's obvious to me what they are doing, and it would be so obvious to anyone looking their way.
I thought about this, but didn't do it. I wanted to go up to that young couple and offer them a more private location where they can
be touch-feely friendly with each other. I wanted to set it up that I could end up watching them have sex, or attempt to have sex, on my bed.
In my fantasy the teen girl would want me to get naked too, and possibly join in for a three-way bump n grind. The guy would be nervous
and hesitant, but would enjoy the two on one action.
Of course if I tried to do this for real...then it could have turned out badly.
I started a story on this subject. It was three years ago, amazingly.
I got to the big plot twist, but never put in a conclusion.
To make the story basically girlspns friendly, I changed the adult male (me) to young adult woman.
Ah TeenFan, I remember this story very well! I was loving it and it is a tragedy if you don't finish it!! I'm sorry. I should not pressure you. But I have my fingers dearly crossed!!
I don't know that I learned a lot that day. I gathered intel for sure and it helped me learn stuff later. Such as the realization that all these normal looking people everywhere... are all perverts of SOME kind when you get them behind closed doors!
In my experience, a great many people have an exhibitionistic streak in them... and there are ways to encourage it to thrive. But swooping in and offering money is not on my list of recommendations. If you stick around you'll soon see what I mean.
You reminded me of a time I was on my laptop alone at a coffee pub on a wintery late afternoon; a kind of oversized cafe with purgatorial counter service and no legitimate table service. I was in a booth and suddenly I was distracted by two compact youths diving into the booth right in front of me. The scenario was immediately apparent. A brother and sister had been sent to secure a table while mom or dad or both went to the counter for drinks and grub. The kids looked grade eightish; for sure between grades seven and nine. They were either twins or a year apart. There looks were breath-taking, regardless of sexual appeal. Anyone of any orientation could see that. Golden blonde, flawless faces, generous lips. And eyes of some brilliant blue not of this earth. Stunning. I caught my breath and returned to my work. Brad and Angelina, or whoever their celestial parents were, did not need to see a creepy old guy staring at their little angels.
Moments later I looked up again and somehow did not have a heart attack. These kids were wrapped up like a burrito, mashing, lip-locked, tongues down each other's throats no doubt. I was stunned stunned stunned. Immediately I disregarded the incest implications and realized they were just two horny kids looking for a warm place to suck face. It took a long while to ontrol my breathing again, and to try not to stare. But MY GOD. If I'd had the brains to film them I think I'd have a mansion or two by now! The weird thing is.. had no one told them that they looked like brother and sister? Did they not KNOW what they LOOKED LIKE to the world??
teenadmirer wrote: Wed Jan 14, 2026 10:02 am
The kids looked grade eightish; for sure between grades seven and nine. They were either twins or a year apart. There looks were breath-taking, regardless of sexual appeal. Anyone of any orientation could see that. Golden blonde, flawless faces, generous lips. And eyes of some brilliant blue not of this earth. Stunning. I caught my breath and returned to my work. Brad and Angelina, or whoever their celestial parents were, did not need to see a creepy old guy staring at their little angels.
Moments later I looked up again and somehow did not have a heart attack. These kids were wrapped up like a burrito, mashing, lip-locked, tongues down each other's throats no doubt. I was stunned stunned stunned. Immediately I disregarded the incest implications and realized they were just two horny kids looking for a warm place to suck face. It took a long while to ontrol my breathing again, and to try not to stare. But MY GOD. If I'd had the brains to film them I think I'd have a mansion or two by now! The weird thing is.. had no one told them that they looked like brother and sister? Did they not KNOW what they LOOKED LIKE to the world??
You notice things the way I imagine writers and artists do.
You probably wondered what those two would do if they could get some time alone.
It reminds me of a film made in Denmark in 1984, called "Twist and Shout". In this movie the Star-Crossed Lovers are probably 15
years old. The Danish film was realistic about actions having consequences, and the girl ends up having to go to her mother for some
help dealing with a certain issue that popped up.
I think from your description that this hormonally charged duo are around thirteen years old, and they can't keep their hands off of each
other. Imagine being the uncle of one of them, and you got the "Job" of taking them on a camping trip in the middle of the summer.
Too hot for clothes and the water of the river is not deep enough to completely submerge yourself. All you have to do is wait for something
interesting to happen. Perhaps getting things started yourself by suggesting (in a joking manner, but hoping one will agree to the idea) of
going skinnydipping. If you are not on State Park/National Park property then there are no rules requiring swimsuits.
Nothing sensational here but let me try to wrap up the high school chapter swiftly so you can understand where the next chapter comes from. CFNM-wise, not too much to report: More fun and games at the Ellingtons; skinny dipping etc and the girls trying to catch us at it with minimal success. There were glimpses, laughs, nothing that makes headlines.
At a lacrosse game the dressing rooms all were locked and our coaches who in hindsight might have been stupid as fuck, told us we had to get changed in the hall instead of finding someone with a fucking key. We did so, exposed to occasional lacrosse moms but I did not care. I'd been leered at naked at the Old MacDonald farm. This was nothing.
Mrs. MacDonald insisted that she and I "had chemistry" and wanted return engagements, either with or without the audience. I was not interested.
My longstanding 110+ customer paper route and babysitting enterprises had paid off, along with 17th-birthday money help from adoring grandparents and I was able to buy a used 1982 Chev Cavalier and not the sporty hatchback type either but the totally rockin' "medium blue grandma sedan" special! This HAD to be a chick magnet at a school where maybe 2 other boys my age had their own car!
As it happened I fell in love with the most awesome girl ever; Robin. She was thin, boyish, my age, with a very cute spikey mullet (don't you laugh I will KICK YOU IN THE BALLS IF YOU LAUGH!!) She was a drummer in a band! And she was a baker at a donut shop her parents owned and they paid her so well she had bought herself a BRAND NEW Pontiac Firebird TRANS AM with options and dashboard panel that would make NASA astronauts weep with envy. Robin did not give TWO SHITS about my granny-mobile! Best of all she was the sweetest most down-to-earth thing who never tried to be cool; she just couldn't help but be. And not being a voluptuous blonde with textbook curves, I did not have to fight off an army of boys to become an item with her. To this day I regularly mourn that I let her get away, even though my life would have been utterly, completely different with her instead of the messed up adventurous route it took instead. So... STRAIGHT! RIGHT??
But at the same time I fell in love with the best friend of a good friend of mine who was one year younger. His name was Christopher and he was AN ANGEL. It was a completely different kind of love. I wanted to be his mom, his dad, his dog and his lover. I wanted to worship him and treat him like a prince every day. I wanted him and Robin and me to be a family! It was quietly devastating for both of us. So... Not straight?? I don't know why it took me FOREVER to see myself as bisexual. The patterns I felt, the general differences in the way I perceived the genders and how I connected to them... I guess I thought that one set had to be correct and one incorrect. Fucked in the head, I know.
And to top it off Marlene MacDonald was pressuring me, and being manipulative about it. I could have got her SO FIRED (and probably jailed; its complex)!! But instead I was confused and intimidated and to top it off my stepdad and I were suddenly NOT GETTING ALONG and that was making it worse for he and my mom who were NOT GETTING ALONG and I tried to explain my feelings to Christopher and look to him for support and he FREAKED THE Fuck OUT! and now WE did not get along and THAT hurt more than death and I was thinking about suicide a lot and ended up in hospital and shipped to a psychiatrist who specialized in treating teen boys with sexuality confusion.
NOTE TO HUMANITY: Do not let old men specialize in treating teen boys with sexuality issues! You are ASKING FOR TROUBLE! Dr. Unmentionable's strategy for curing my problems was basically to hug me and cuddle me for two hours a week until WE stopped getting along. And then he beat me to the punch: HE killed HIMself (not even kidding) and that put a swift end to that little mess. For the record, in hindsight, I feel sorry for him and for the wife and kids he left behind.
So I pulled the fucking plug on EVERYTHING. I quit school, home, Old MacDonald, Robin, Christopher (OMG!! Christopher Robin!! I swear to GOD I never noticed that connection! It's been 40 years and I've had Winnie-the-Poo syndrome this whole time and never noticed until THIS second I swear to god! LMAO)!
So yeah, at 17 I got a full time job, moved out (broke my mom's heart), got a bachelor apartment for $230 a month (yes, THAT is what money USED to look like!), made friends with a weird gay French guy named Pierre who was 25 and secretly (at first) wanted me SO bad. So he lured me into his little web and NEVER got to first base! Instead I hooked up with his twin sister, Rose, driving him INSANE for 13 fucking years until I was 30, and she 38, and her mental illness went so far off the rails that... well... you'll see.
Flo (Rose's nickname--don't ask) was the biggest pervert I ever met in my life, even bigger than I, and she wore down any inhibitions I had, real quick. I'll start figuring out which of our tales are appropriate for this forum and I'll get back to you. A Thousand praises if you persisted through this whole pointless chapter. You receive a coupon to Get Out Of Purgatory Free. Bless you.
I have occasionally written a character who exhibits signs of being bi-sexual, but it was never the main character of the story, and it stays in
the "Possible but not Proven" stage.
The only trans-gender character I've written, the mysterious Myra of Apartment 469, definitely likes boys but could possibly like girls too.
I think teenadmirer, that you could explore an ENM story where you tap in the vast kinky universe of your past.
TeenFan wrote: Fri Jan 16, 2026 8:11 pm
I think teenadmirer, that you could explore an ENM story where you tap in the vast kinky universe of your past.
Functionally, I easily could. But I don't FEEL inspired to use that as a starting point. I WILL write some (ENM) fiction soon. In fact I started a piece aimed at this site, took a break and forgot where the hell I was going with it. Not sure I can rescue it. I've been an RPG game master (and player) for 45 years and I have a vivid imagination. I feel the need to dive deep into that imagination and tackle the unfamiliar when I write fiction, but I suppose that does not preclude experience from sneaking in! As always I am super grateful for your advice and ideas, TeenFan, so please never hesitate!
So at 17 I got myself a warehouse/truck-driving job and a crazy-cheap bachelor apartment in a nearby major city. My new friend Pierre, eight years my senior, who adored boys my age, was a constant source of help and guidance for a short while but couldn't get into my pants which drove him to frustration.
Seemingly out of nowhere his twin sister, Rose (Flo to friends) appeared, started doing me favors and showing up at my pad with VHS movies, beer for me and rye whiskey for herself (and a brand new VCR on the second visit as I had none). I protested of course but she blew it off, declaring that as an "overpaid public servant" (nurse) living with parents; paying no rent, money meant nothing to her.
She ordered us take-out food. I was suddenly living above my means and growing an attachment to that.
Those first films that I recall included Neverending Story, Lucas, TAPS, Tender Cousins and Private Lessons and Flo would aways comment on the cuteness of the younger actors who were inevitably present.
She showed up early one day, on a Saturday, with groceries. I was not fully dressed yet. I let her in and crashed back on the pull-out ouch while she went straight to my tiny one-person kitchenette and prepared lunch. She brought me a beer. "Bare feet!" she exclaimed. "Are they stinky?"
"I hope not."
She grabbed my foot, pressed her face to it and sniffed. "Nope! Fresh as daisies!" She planted a long wet kiss on the sole of my foot. I changed the subject at once, a little weirded-out at this behavior. We weren't entirely discovering each other at this time. We'd heard stories about each other. We were... clarifying.
We watched Grandview USA on the couch which was pulled out in bed-form. Flo became very animated during the post-coitus bed scene with Jamie Lee Curtis and C. Thomas Howell. Doing the math today I see that, at that time, CTH was the exact same age as I during filming (17) and JLC was only three years Flo's senior.
"Hot, don't you think?" she said.
"Yep."
"Wouldn't you like to be in that bed?"
"Sure."
She looked at me. "With Jamie or with Tommy?"
I looked right at her. "Both."
She was delighted at my response. She teased me, poked me. I poked back. We wrestled. clothes vanished almost instantly and we fucked, lounged naked and soon fucked again.
The visits became constant. The films were launchpads into erotic conversation which turned into sex. On the third such occasion she would not undress at first. She wanted to give me a massage and in doing so she shook my sensibilities by sucking my toes and by nibbling my butt cheeks and licking my butt hole! This was behavior I never imagined a woman capable of! I was still naive. And my horizons would be expanded still:
We watched The Changeling (George C. Scott) which featured a young handicapped boy in a bathtub. She ruminated: if the boy were older...
We watched Lord of the Flies; 60's version; unaware a new version was coming. I was a little shocked when she could not hide her interest in the bare butts of very young boys.
On another occasion she wanted to massage me again. It was not my favorite thing but she talked me into it and while I was naked there was a knock at the door. "come in!" she cried. The door rattled at once while she sat atop me, pinning me. It turns out she had tried to unlock the door earlier and covertly, but was unsuccessful. And no entrance was gained. She leapt off me to unlock the door while I scrambled under the bedsheet just in time before her brother and her brother's brief current boyfriend entered, smiling. They had set this shit up, planning to expose me to a little crowd. In hindsight I get it, but at the time, I was confused. Didn't she want me FOR HERSELF? Wouldn't she be jealous to share my body that way, even if just visually? But she was wilder than I realized. I would learn.
Various attempts were made to get me out from the covers but I was an athletic boy and determined. In hindsight I should have just given them a thrill but no, I was stupid at the time. I just wanted the guys to leave so Flo and I could screw.
You will probably sense where all this is leading, and be wrong. Flo does not drag me into a life of CFNM entirely, not often as the NM anyway. The truth is that my own meagre participations in CFNM has never been an ideal of mine. I only like it in hindsight, devoid of personal context, where I look at my own presence anonymously.
What she did do more successfully, was help me clarify my own voyeuristic instincts, to the point that viewing a beautiful nude male was exiting for me, but way more exciting when females also took part in the viewing; a tableau I would endeavor many times in my life, to arrange. So I hope you endured this backstory which I see as essential and now let me try to get swiftly to the tales of interest:
We took a Florida vacation on Flo's dime and she took naked photos of me one night in the hotel room, candid at first and then getting me to pose. I tried to get even; got one shot of her naked and then she got shy and shut me down. Pretty sure we had two sets developed and I should have copies here. I know damn well that she has copies because many of her friends have confessed she showed them. I gave up telling her off about it. Flo does not play by anyone's rules.
We took a trip to an off-season location where the hotel was DEAD. We checked out the indoor pool which was still as glass; the change rooms empty. In those days video security was punishingly expensive and rare enough we wouldn't have thought to watch out for it. Flo got my trunks off in the pool, convinced me to sit on the edge and sucked me while I lay back on the cool tile with hands behind my head. It was not going to take long.
Her mouth popped off me suddenly and issued the word "Shit." An older woman had walked into the pool area in one-piece and bathing cap, and stood frozen and wide-eyed. I pushed myself immediately into the water and scrambled to redress while Flo said "Sorry!" The woman said nothing, turned and walked toward the nearest ladder to enter the pool.
I grabbed Flo and hissed, "Grab your stuff and go straight to the room. I'll meet you there." I was scared we'd be in serious trouble. I rushed into the men's room to collect my gear, intending to go straight upstairs without even changing, only to hear Flo giggling behind me. She'd followed me into the men's room. The more I freaked the more she laughed. She pulled me into the men's sauna, empty of course, dropped my trunks and finished sucking me off. Then upstairs in the hotel bed we talked about it. She was very turned on that we had been seen, and I got her off twice.
On a similar trip we stayed at the tiny apartment of an old friend of hers and slept on a thin mattress on her dining room floor. In the morning her friend Kelly puttered in the kitchen and popped in and out, to see how we were doing I suppose, and we just stayed in "bed" for at least an hour and a half.
I was naked and Flo played with me and I responded eagerly. She pushed back the sheet and brought me off quickly with her pal in the next room. A short time later her hand crept over again and she was awed how firmly I responded again so soon.
She brought me off by hand four times, amazed at my endurance, all the while hoping Kelly would walk in, and being sure I would scramble to cover up if she did, But I was warning her I did not care that morning. This was her doing, her friend, and her risk! And I was feeling unusually... sexy.
Her fingers did the walking a fifth time and it took a little persistence but I responded again.
"I know what you're up to in there!" came Kelly's voice from the kitchen.
"What do you mean!" cried Flo happily.
"Every time you go quiet I know you're up to something!"
"But you don't know what!" said Flo, grinning madly while she stroked me in the wide open.
"You're playing with your boy toy!"
Flo laughed. "Her WHAT!" I said.
"You can't prove that!" said Flo.
We saw Kelly's shadow appear. Flo thought for sure I would scramble for cover. Instead I kicked the sheet the rest of the way off. Kelly appeared with a grin on her face and stared at me getting a hand job. I strained to come and did. It wasn't much at this point in the marathon. A fucking dribble. Kelly shook her head but still looked on. I closed my eyes. I felt Flo's lips on my cock and jolted alert. Kelly was already retreating to the kitchen again while Flo sucked me clean and ran her tongue around the horrifically-sensitive head. I yelled out in torment; begged her to stop. Kelly laughed from the next room.
Flo and I moved in together. Pierre became a little scarce, not happy that Flo had "stolen" me!
A friend of hers was launching a photography business and wanted to do an informal shoot of Flo and I at our new apartment. She said that we would negotiate afterwards which shots she had permission to use in advertising if she wanted, if any, and which would be surrendered to us.
Gemma found herself leaning into more and more romantic shots, praising us for our... mutual chemistry or whatever she called it. She rifled through our clothes, and had us changing in front of her which I did not mind. She gave off sweet, harmless vibes. She talked me out of my shirt for a few shots and eventually coaxed us both down to our underclothes for shots she ensured would be tasteful.
And yes, the proposal came to spend the last roll of film on some subtle, careful nudes, and Flo urged me on but I would not do it unless she did too, but she was too shy and I held my ground, so it didn't happen. In hindsight, that was a shame. Looking at me now, almost 40 years later, I would have been proud of those shots. Gemma had definite talent.
I was 20 when Flo brought a newspaper home from the hospital and tossed me the classifieds. "There's a ball hockey team looking for new players. They're holding tryouts."
The ad sounded good. I tried out and made it. The team was sponsored by a local pub renowned for handing out sports team deals to teams they assumed were all in 19+ leagues; the drinking age. Our league, oddly, had no age restriction. So practically our whole team, most underaged, reported to the pub twice a week after our games, and drank without ever being carded and often got trashed. A honey-blonde fifteen year old, Trevor, was probably the youngest on the team, also the best pure-talent on the team, though not big and tough enough to dominate, and by classic standards, probably the most attractive of us, surely at home on a Tiger Beat magazine cover. He finally came out to the pub one week and I thought for sure our goose was cooked. That was the first time Flo came out to a game and she followed us boys to the pub as well. Little Trevor never got fingered by staff and got drunk INSTANTLY and was ridiculously tipsy. Flo, probably the eldest person present, immediately took him under her wing, took care of him, held him, cleaned him up etc. It probably looked like pure mother instincts but I knew she was hot for him and loving it.
The real event though; the real story, was Toby, 16; almost 17 but who looked younger. He was absurdly gorgeous with a very compact, toned body with a V-torso, slim hips and pert narrow ass. In the showers it was very hard not to look at him. He was an anatomical masterpiece. Like Trevor, he was a lightweight and became drunk swiftly. Flo and I BOTH fell head over heels for him, and he would enter our lives in a HUGE way. He would soon become the center of attention in the most amazing night of our lives, an event we never stopped reliving for years.
Every movie you mention is one I have seen.
The Trevor kid sounds like a dream come true for movie casting for those 80s teen comedies...and occasional serious movie such as
"Stand By Me".
I have TRIED to cut through the following details quickly. They are important. I feel much need to explain why Toby was the way he was and why things were the way they were.
That night after getting home from the pub, when Flo met most of the team for the first time, she was all over me. "I knew who Toby was right away!" she said, "As soon as you all came out on the floor; as soon as I saw his little ass in those track pants! She wanted to fantasise getting double teamed by Trevor and Toby and I was into it.
Toby, myself and four others from the team became a tight group, with Toby the youngest and myself the oldest. Flo and I lived downtown not far from a club where our friend Matt was often a bouncer and he would let us all in despite Toby being underage. He was compact, as I've said and not tall; not heavy. He could get drunk very fast. We had an understanding with Matt that if Toby started getting out of control we would get him out of there pronto and keep Matt out of trouble.
There were girls in the picture, a friend group, my age who, in general, had these boys on the side. Very complicated. Relationships were juggled. There was dishonesty. One-night encounters were common. Toby was scheduled for a hotel weekend with his "girlfriend" in order to lose his cherry. It seemed like everyone knew that his older GF Mandy was actually engaged to be married to an older guy and that Toby was temporary but in denial.. or possibly outright deceived. But he was trying to stay "faithful" to her.
We collided with the girls at the club one night and Toby got trashed and had a fight with Mandy over these very tensions. She slapped him. He slapped her back. They both fled. I went after Toby. He was walking back toward my place probably without conscious intent. he was wasted and could not go home. He lived with just his mom; his dad having passed when Toby was a baby. His mom had been raised within a small tight religious environ; almost cultish. They had recently left the church. His mom was.. unwise to the world; very over-protected and naive. She trusted that Toby was a good good boy and could do no wrong. At 17 he could come and go as he pleased at any hour. She had no idea he was drinking underage and plotting to have sex.
Toby was such a friendly happy-go-lucky guy, it was a shock to see him so tormented this night. He said he should just kill himself. Now I'd been drinking plenty too and I stopped him and grabbed his face in my hands. "Don't talk like that," I said. "There are people who LOVE you." He went still and just looked at me. We carried on. At the apartment I got him water; no more drinks. We sat on the couch. He cried. He was practically delirious. He leaned into me and I held him. He announced he was about to be sick.
I ushered him; practically carrying him, to the bathroom toilet. Most of his puke made it that far and most hit the target. I was unoffended. It was just booze puke; nothing ghastly. But he managed to get traces of it on his clothes and even in his longish hair. I stripped him naked and put him in the shower. Can you wash yourself or do you need my help? He managed on his own but don't get me wrong: I would have given him all the help he needed. I would have scrubbed him head to toe if he needed me to, and very very thoroughly. Because I'm a saint that way.
I cleaned the floor and put ALL his clothes in the laundry. The water woke him up somewhat and he wandered into the living room naked and stunning, I had prepped the pull out couch for him. I guided him in, under a single sheet (it was plenty warm enough), left a bucket by the bed "just in case" and then I sat on one of the other couches (it was a big living area) and just kind of watched him, in a kind of wonder, with the local lights out but a little light filtering in from elsewhere.
Flo had been in the nearby city; the... metropolis... for an event with her age-mate friends and she returned home soon after and found me sitting there. Then she saw the shape on the pull out. I don't think she was so much psychic that night as.. dangerously hopeful.
"Who is that," she whispered. "Toby?"
"Yeah."
She moved a little closer to me. "Is he naked?"
"Yep."
Her jaw dropped, more with intent than with shock. "Did YOU undress him?" I nodded. "Are you crazy? What's he going to say in the morning!"
My attitude toward Toby was that he was beautiful and the subject of our fantasies but we were teammates and friends and my actions around him were... organic; not very contrived. Flo meanwhile, tried to be calculated. She wanted in his pants and didn't want us "scaring him away." Still.. it was our GENERAL form that she was the reckless one; the gas pedal as they say, and I was the brakes. Generally...
I explained the situation. She eased up. She turned on a lamp and went and stood over him. I joined her. "I have to see him," she whispered. I recommended not. She would not be denied. She pulled the sheet back, sighed an otherworldly sigh, pulled it down to his ankles, then finally off. She shook her head. "My god he's perfection... but just a boy. You're in love with A BOY, Rick!"
"So are you."
"His dick looks exactly like yours."
"Shut up."
"It looks bigger on him though."
"Yes. Put the sheet back."
"I have to suck him."
"No."
"Just a bit."
I took the sheet from her, laid it back over him. "No," I said. "Come to bed."
This was not "the night of our lives" that I alluded to earlier, but I promise we'll get to that within the next couple days.
So I realize now I cheated you earlier by giving you a brief recap of the last of the Ellington days while forgetting all about a certain incident of interest. Let this serve as a reminder that at the end of my tales I will finish off with this and any other bits that come to mind belatedly.
TOBY: One brief prelude
Toby and I began a habit of taking overnight road trips to see NHL hockey games and go drinking after and stay at hotels. This was in the crowded North East where you didn't have to travel more than a few hours in any direction to find an NHL city.
On one trip we brought Flo along, and another friend. The next morning Toby thought nothing of parading around in his briefs in front of us, and I could tell Flo was getting hot over it. A lot of teasing and laughing ensued and then Toby went for a shower.
A bucket of mostly-melted ice was present, having contained some beers the night before. "I'm going to douse him in the shower," said Flo. She took the bucket and entered the bathroom where young Toby was showering behind the curtain. Marek and I followed as far as the bathroom door and looked on while she topped up the bucket with cold tap water, then turned to the shower curtain. She was taking her time forming a plan of attack or something, and Toby evidently detected our presence and either knew what we were up to or that SOMETHING was up.
So he just whisked back the shower curtain, faced Flo eye to eye and raised his hands in some futile defensive posture. He seemed gloriously unconcerned that he was presenting himself fully naked, not only to friends but to his closest friend's girlfriend, who happened to be 11.5 years his senior.
Flo basically froze, staring at him, both of them grinning. It did seem awkward that she was not hurling the frigid water at him as she'd threatened to. I'm sure she didn't want the standoff to end. I was enjoying it too; very much so, and deeply regretting now, that Marek was along. What delicious possibilities might exist if not for this rather uninteresting, and uninterested, witness.
Flo finally broke the ice (har har) and took her shot. Toby, with his youthful, lightning reflexes, swatted the bucket as it came, and probably took a chilling squirt or two but more of it landed on Flo. She screamed and backed out of the bathroom while Toby, naked and grinning, took his time dragging the curtain closed again.
TOBY: * T H E * Night.
Flo and I co-purchased a large trailer at a "weekend" trailer park along with a gay couple Flo's age. This completed a "hostile" takeover of a single dead-end lane at the park. In the neighboring trailers was another gay couple and two more straight couples. All ten of us were very good friends. I presume it would be a burden to rhyme off everyone's names. Let's hold off for now.
Come summer I started skipping many of the gang's pub nights on order to spend the entire weekend at the park. I thrived on the late night conversations, the euchre tournaments, the DELUGE of booze and the gay couples informally competing to serve up the most gourmet meals and snacks!
But Flo found it too sedate for her tastes and after the first few weeks only came up briefly or skipped whole weekends. She had other friends and interests and as a nurse had to work frequent weekends.
One Friday night when I was already up there.. and it was a full house that Friday; everyone else was there plus Stan and James had a friend up for the weekend; their "fag hag" (THEIR words, not MINE!) and I really hate that her name was Sue, because "Sue" is one the most standard of go-to amateur porn-writer character names ever. BUT... that was her damn-ass name so we're stuck with it! Sue was short and jolly, with VERY big tits.
Then a surprise: Flo showed up just after dark, with Toby in tow! He'd never been here before. He'd called our place (this was before cellphones) to see if he could hang out with us. He'd started becoming an infrequent visitor in our home you see, apart from the gang. He and I had started gelling into a best friend situation. I was thrilled, and grateful that she'd brought him up. He had no vehicle of his own yet.
I loved introducing Toby to the gay guys and watching the drool forming as they drank in the sight of this little hunk.
Said little hunk got extremely drunk extremely fast and became extremely friendly; extremely affectionate, as was often his manner. This boy was an ongoing threat to hug or even kiss, anyone, girl or boy, when he was drunk enough!
The fireplace gab turned to teasing me about my tradition of taking a drunken walk to the riverside to gaze at the stars or dark water; whatever the given night offered, right before going to bed, and badgering my friends until someone exhaustedly agreed to accompany me. Toby missed the part about it being a bed time thing, grabbed my hand and said "Come on, I'll go with you."
Well, I'm not the sort of person to fight off a gorgeous drunk boy when he wants to take you for a walk in the dark. It's not worth the trouble!
We went. We talked about things such as swimming and skinny dipping, and yes, I replied, some of us had done just that, here, on one occasion. He reported he'd never been skinny dipping or visited a nude beach but they were both on his bucket list.
We migrated to the dock at Toby's initiative and then he wanted to dangle his feet in the water. We ditched our shoes and socks. I was wearing shorts but Toby, jeans. I warned him they would get wet. "Maybe roll them up?" But they were tight and he was drunk and he happily resorted to taking them off and not without a struggle while I tried to keep him from falling off the dock in his altered state.
We sat side by side shooting the breeze, he, not in tighty whities for the first time I ever witnessed, but in black boxers. I did not know immediately, in the darkness, but would find out later they were silk.
"What are you naughty boys up to?" Came Flo's voice behind us. She sauntered up to us with three fresh beers in hand, most welcomed.
She squeezed between us, but slightly behind. feet over the edge but dry. We talked and I felt her fingers in my hair and on the back of my neck. It felt... great... and I could see that Toby was getting the same treatment. And I was into it.
Okay.. I swear I don't want to pause here but's 1:30 in the morning and I missed my old-man nap today and I am falling asleep on us. I am going to post this now and promise to finish this tale promptly tomorrow!