Markwildyr.com, Post #263
Today, we conclude the story of Ahab
James Chaplain… or Captain, or more commonly Cap’n to his peers.
* * * *
CAP’N,
CAP’N
The next week, our own school
break began, and Josh took me by surprise by inviting me to go to the lake with
him. Of course, going to the lake had only one connotation to me. The one
associated with Hal. That forced me to admit what I’d been denying for a long
time. Man, would I like to get together with him. I mean, really get
together. He was the sexiest person I’d ever known, but I’d considered him
unapproachable. What does the team quarterback need with a dweeb. Well, maybe
not a dweeb. I do play soccer and tennis and a little golf. But you know what I
mean. He goes out with babes… and from talk around school, he got a few of them
too.
“Too late for ice fishing and
too early for reel fishing,” I said, having no idea if that was correct or not.”
“Don’t much care if I catch
any or not. Just want to get away from everything and everyone for a while. Thought
you might like to tag along. I’m gonna pitch a tent and stay for a couple of
nights.”
My insides did-flip-flops.
Anticipation or dread? I didn’t know. Nonetheless, I said the words. “Sure, why
not.”
Monday morning, I tossed my backpack
in the trunk of Josh’s Duster, and we headed for the lake twenty-five miles up
in the hills. Wasn’t like with Hal, Josh didn’t say much of anything, but it
was easy to see he was already enjoying getting out of town. That prompted me
to relax a little—lay aside the anxiety over what might or might not happen. I
knew one thing for sure. The whole school knew we were going camping for a
couple of days. And I wasn’t exactly the natural camping companion for a
popular guy like Josh. That would prompt a few questions when we got back. To
hell with it. Relax and enjoy the lake. Deal with the other later.
Like Hal, he wanted a secluded
place for our campsite, but we worked well together. I’d pitched a few tents on
trips with my father and older brother, so I carried my weight. When camp was
ready, we strolled down to the lake with old-fashioned fishing poles, and to my
surprise, caught enough for our dinner. Josh gutted and cleaned, I cooked.
After a surprisingly tasty
dinner of fried fish, biscuits, and beans, we sat around the campfire in the
gathering gloom, still not talking much but amazingly comfortable. As the night
progressed, he did start to unwind and talk a little about school and coming
college and what life might hold in the future. He wanted to be an Air Force
fighter pilot. I was still bouncing around between archaeologist and lawyer.
The lawyer thing was probably hanging in there because that’s what my dad was.
Sometime late that night, we doused
the fire, stripped to our underwear, and got into our sleeping bags. Then everything
was quiet and peaceful—well, not completely. Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but
the forest has a sound all it’s own at night. The lake wasn’t big, but sizeable
enough so that the water lapped at the shore. A noisy loon to the west kept
calling to another to the north. Peaceful.
Except my insides were raging.
Here I was lying half-naked beside the hunkiest guy in town, and my roiling
stomach wouldn’t let me forget it. I knew he wasn’t asleep. He moved around in
his sack a little too much. That brought on another rush of adrenaline. Was he…?
Naw, wasn’t that kind of moving around.
I must have lain there for a
quarter of an hour before he spoke.
“You asleep?”
“Uh-uh, enjoying the silence
too much.”
He gave a nervous laugh. “Yeah,
makes you miss all the noise in town.”
“Not much.”
Cap’n… uh, Jimbo. I been
wanting to talk to you.”
“I live right next door.
Available anytime.”
“Yeah, but the time never
seemed right.”
“Now it does?” I asked.
“Yeah, sorta. But I’m having
trouble getting started.”
“Spit it out.”
So he did. “You ever think
about sex?”
“Only about seventy-five
percent of the time”
“Not asking you to tell tales
out of school, but do you score?”
I thought of Hal. “Not very
often. You?”
Silence… then, “Not as much as
I should.”
That caught my interest. “What
do you mean?”
Silence again. Longer this
time. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Sure. Better’n most I know.”
“I… I…. Oh, crap, I have
trouble getting interested with somebody I know.”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, God, I hope you mean it
when you say you don’t rat. Truth is, I’ve only got one girl… here at home that
is. But when I go on football trips, I get more’n I can handle.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“I dunno. Thought maybe you’d
know.”
“Me? Why me?”
“Of everyone in town, you keep
the kids guessing about your sex life.”
“What you’re saying is you
want to know if I’m gay.”
“No, that’s not what I’m
asking.” Silence. “Well, maybe.”
“Okay, then I’m not. Well,
maybe I am.”
“Which is it?”
“I don’t really know. I… well,
I got it on with someone last year. A guy.”
“Yeah, Hal Barton.”
That gave me a start. “He told
everybody?”
“Just about.”
“Aw, crap!” I dry-washed my
face. “He’s the one who started it.”
“Yeah, he would be. When it
comes to sex, he’s a sleazebag. Otherwise, he’s a decent guy.”
As I lay in humiliation, another
silence grew. Finally.
“But that’s why I thought you
might explain my problem.”
“You hankering for a guy?” I
blurted, halfway hopeful, halfway dreadful.
“No. Well… maybe. You see, I
don’t seem to have any parameters. If I see a person and find them attractive,
doesn’t seem to matter whether they’re a guy or a gal.”
“You saying you’re bi-sexual?”
“Maybe. But it seems different
to me. I dunno how to say it, except I don’t have a type. It might be a sexy
girl, a he-man guy, a fem guy, a butch girl. It’s just something that clicks in
my brain—” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “—or more to the point in my gonads.”
“Have you ever heard of
polysexual?”
“Yeah, and omni and poly and
all the rest. But I don’t understand them.”
I snickered. “I don’t either. I
just know I like Betsy and would like to get into her pants. And,” I added
hesitantly, “I really dug what Hal and I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I did him, he did me,” I
said, hoping that would be enough.
“Uh….”
Okay, I blew him and he blew
me.”
“Did you ever do the other?”
“Uh-uh. Why, you interested?”
He gave a sigh that kinda got me
down in the guts. “Maybe, but that’s the rest of my problem.”
“Which is?”
“I might be interested in
somebody, but if I know them, then the will isn’t there. With a stranger, it’s
okay. Guy or gal, it’s okay. I’m one sick dude.”
“Naw. You’re you with your own
wants and don’ts.”
“Does my confession make you look
at me differently,” he asked.
“Differently… yeah. Down on
you… nah. But you know, somehow I think your problem might be better than mine.
I’ve been wanting to get with you for years, but didn’t know how. You know,
afraid of losing a friend. You don’t have to worry about that because you only
go after strangers. If they’re not interested, no big deal.”
“Doesn’t seem that simple to
me.”
I thought for a minute. “You…
you wanna try it? No matter how it comes out, nobody has to know.”
“You’d know.” A long, long
silence grew, and then, “Okay, I’ll try. No promises, but I’ll try.”
And try he did. He’d get about
halfway erect, and then he’d deflate. Me, I about ripped my shorts with the monster
I sported.
“You really dig it,” he said,
acknowledging that fact.
“With you, I do,” I panted.
At long last, he flopped on
his back. “Sorry, just can’t do it.”
“Hell, you can’t” I muttered
and came up on him. “Just think of me as a stranger you came up on at the lake
and seduced into your tent.”
With that, I went to work. One
hand worked at his sac and his butt, the other wandered his really fine chest,
while my mouth went to work.
And that did the job. Boy, did
that do the job. I’m not sure we got more than an hour’s sleep that night.
Every time one of us got it off, the other was ready again. Talk about
eighteen-year-old stamina!
Magnificent.
*.*.*.*.
Apparently
science is coming around to the view many Native American tribes have held for
years. There are many genders out there. Cap’n and Josh are working hard to
identify theirs.
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