Today, we pick up the story of Barry Bungee Jump. As I recall, his life was going pretty well. He’d hooked up with another
avid jumper and started making it with an exotic swim coach. Part one ended
with him thinking: "Then I screwed it all up."
Let’s see how badly he messed thing up. The “they” Barry
refers to in the opening paragraph of Part 2 are Jeff Hodges, his bungee jump
buddy, and Dari Pedralis, his college swim coach dreamboat.
###
BARRY BUNGEE JUMP
If they were fucking me
one at a time, what would it be like with both of them at once? A threesome.
Something I’d never done before. I could blow Dari’s dusky tool while Jeff
buried his fair one in my ass. All the time, they could admire one another. For
the next session, we could switch up. I’d get a Dari fuck and give a Jeff blow.
Wasn’t much chance they’d have at one another. They were too macho for
that.
For a while, I didn’t
think I was going to be able to manage it, but when Dari expressed some
interest in hearing about one of my bungee jump trips, I managed to wrangle an
invitation from Jeff for my exotic-looking swimmer to accompany us on an
overnighter to the Rio Grande Gorge Bridge outside of Taos. Dari was all for
staying in a motel, but Jeff and I preferred to camp out. It was touch and go
for a moment, but finally Dari agreed to rough it.
The drive up the Rio
Grande to Taos was interesting, as usual. Folks from around here never called
it the Rio Grande River, claiming
that’s redundant because “Rio” means river in Spanish. Just like locals never
call that long, grinding hill before you get to Santa Fe La Bajada Hill. You got it…la bajada means hill.
Once we made it through
New Mexico’s capital city and breezed by the National Cemetery and the Santa Fe
Opera, conversation loosened up a bit. I don’t know why, but it seemed to me
Jeff and Dari were a little stiff-legged around one another. Talking about
sports relaxed things, even if Jeff was going on about basketball while Dari
was talking swimming.
The big mud pile before
you enter Taos always drew my eye. That wasn’t a very respectful way of
describing Taos Pueblo, which is a lot older than the town and the home of the
Taos Indians, but I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just what the place reminded
me of from a distance—tiers and tiers of dried mud. One day, I was going to
talk Jeff into slowing down enough to visit the pueblo, but bhen we got this
close to the bridge, my thirst for a bungee jump inevitably interfered.
Once in town, we headed
west toward Tres Piedras, passed by the city airport, and pretty soon were
approaching the Rio Grande Gorge. The view when approaching the big bridge
spanning the chasm was sorta flat and stark, but the view from the bridge was awesome. I used to play tourist and haul big
rocks out on the deck to throw over the side into the gorge. They disappeared
into nothingness before striking the water or the shore over 600 feet below us.
Actually, the river looks like a little trickle from the bridge, but the Rio
Grande in this part of New Mexico was a world class, white-water rafting site.
But rafting and
stone-bombing rafters fighting the water below us wasn’t on my mind today. It
turned out that Dari had some experience in bungee jumping, so we got down to
it pretty quickly. The guys honored my teenaged enthusiasm and let me go first.
Dari helped me hook up in Jeff’s body and ankle harnesses while Jeff affixed
the gear box and checked the equipment. Some guys buy a ready-made
braided shock cord of latex encased in a tough outer cover, but Jeff made his
own rope, leaving it unbraided—which meant he omitted the outer cover. This
gave us softer rebounds and longer jumps.
In no time at all, I did
a swan dive over the edge of the structure…right into space. There weren’t any
words for the exhilaration I got out of free-falling. As the river rushed up at
me, the tiny rocks becoming bigger and sharper, I left my stomach somewhere
behind me. Of course, with only 200 feet of cord, I was nowhere near the bottom
of the gorge, but it seemed like I was going to keep plunging straight into
oblivion. Then the elastic cord slowly grabbed me. I decelerated, but kept
dropping. When tension equaled my weight, I halted. Zero at zero, they called
it. After a seemingly long pause, I rebounded into the air, providing a charge
of a different sort. My stomach seemed to pass me as I shot upward. It wouldn’t
catch up until I quit bouncing.
All too soon, it was
over, and I was hanging head down with blood pounding in my ears as my two
friends winched me back to the bridge. I wished it would never end…even this
part of it.
Dari went next, and his
graceful dive reminded me he was a swimmer…and presumably a diver. His deep
voice echoed his pleasure up and down the steep-sided canyon. I helped winch
him up and checked the cord while Jeff prepared for his jump. He had good form,
too. Of course, he’d done this a bazillion times before. Then as we manned the
winch to drag him back up, Dari said something strange.
“Wonder what would happen
if we just left him there.”
“Well, he sure isn’t
gonna climb back up that cord. A braided one…maybe…but not this one.”
Dari shrugged as he
applied himself to the gear box and started cranking. “Don’t tell me the
thought’s never crossed your mind when you’re hanging head down at the end of a
long cord.”
I shook my head and
helped him with the lever. In truth, the possibility of this unlikely event had never
occurred to me. Such was my trust in the people I traveled with.
We each took one more
jump and then started looking for a place to pitch camp. Jeff wasn’t interested
in a public place, so we found a spot farther west that was private and had
some tree coverage. Tension began to rise as we pitched our tents. Rather as
they pitched their tents. I didn’t own one. Looked like I might not get that
threesome I wanted to try, but with a little careful planning, I could spend
part of the night with each of these handsome dudes. Next best thing.
###
With all the tension going on between Barry’s two lovers,
it does appear he may have blundered. On the first of next month, at my regular
post time, we’ll learn just how much.
Thanks for checking out the site. I’m open for comments.
Mark
New posts are
published at the first of every month at 6:00 a.m.
No comments:
Post a Comment