Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality
by: Charlie
© 2005-2008
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the
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Portraits were my idea, so I get to tell the story for this episode. I’m Franklin, the big guy with the big dick. I thought I’d get that over with right away–everybody seems to think that saying those things is important. It isn’t really–unless you forget to duck going through a doorway!
Charlie’s told my story very thoroughly, and very accurately, I might add. I’m not going to repeat it here. But before I tell about the portraits, I need to cover some really important news regarding the Gang.
Marty reported on Billy and Sara’s first son, Willie. Almost exactly two years later another boy arrived, also named William, but to be nicknamed Bob from his middle name of Robert. Billy told us, “Look, they’re both going to be divers, the best in the world, I hope. Neither one was entitled to the name ahead of the other. So they’re both William, and neither will be called Billy.”
Tim had commented, “If either of those boys has trouble learning to swim, or is afraid of heights, or can’t stand diving, or simply falls in love with football, he’s going to be in trouble.”
Sara had responded, “Billy talks a good line; he’s promised that he’ll let the boys be what God intends for them, not what Billy intends. But Billy’s been talking to God, and assures me that I’ve given birth to Olympic divers right out of the Tim tradition. For their sake, I hope so.”
Only time will tell.
Both Kara and Amy were pregnant, Sue and Sharon were actively trying. We thought Tom and Nancy were as well. We had no idea what was going on with Tina and Merle on the mommy and daddy front.
Phil and I had some difficult conversations about nephews, babies, homosexuality.... Well, you get the picture. We had to accept the fact that with the life we’d chosen, children would be absent. Gay couples today can talk about adopting, surrogate mothers, and other possibilities. Not back then; certainly not in North Dakota. The more we talked, however, the more we realized that the Gang was, in fact, the answer. As uncles to all of the children, now and in the future, we would have a much closer relationship than most other gay couples. It took a while, but we accepted who we were and the limitations that imposed. We vowed to be the best damned uncles in North Dakota. We talked to Tim and Charlie and found that they were having the same kinds of conversation. I think they made peace with their situation a little easier than Phil and I did. But we all got there.
I know you think I’m teasing you about these portraits, but there’s another story that has to go first: Sid. Sid was eighteen years old in March and in the fall, 1976, would be a senior in high school. Phil and I had gotten to know him pretty well since we’d moved to Grand Forks. He’d done a wall mural for Democracy House. He refused all attempts to pay him, saying “I don’t accept any payments from the Gang. You guys gave me my life, and I couldn’t possibly repay you.” Sid has turned out to be quite a guy. And a damn good artist. One June evening Sid came by the house on his bicycle. There was no way he could afford a car, and in Grand Forks he didn’t need one. Most kids his age would, in the 1970's, walk rather than ride a bike, but Sid was happy to ride. Phil and I were sitting in the back yard finishing hamburgers, having cooked them on our little grill. It was cool, but not cold, and we were enjoying watching the sun set on one of the longest days of the year. Sid sat down, and seemed a little awkward, which wasn’t typical of Sid. Finally he said, “Can I ask you guys something?”
“Of course.”
“It’s pretty personal.”
“Go ahead, Sid.”
“I’ve had all the birds and bees lectures. Actually, the sex ed program at Central High is pretty good. My mom’s pretty good about telling me that sex belongs in marriage. Wait till I find my real love. You know all the story.”
“Have you waited?” That was Phil. Leave it to him to ask the pointed question.
“Yes, I have. But I’ll be honest, despite my first unpleasant experiences when I dated a white girl, there have been a few girls that have really been eager to handle a big, black dick. I’m still somewhat of a curiosity in North Dakota. Of course, no one’s admitted that it’s the black thing that makes them want to see it or handle it, but it is. I’ve let a few go pretty far a couple of times, but I’m still a virgin. No immediate plans to change that.”
I said, “Sid, you came here with a question. Out with it.”
“OK. Ever since that first day when I had breakfast at Tim and Charlie’s house in Washington it’s been obvious that you guys play by your own rules.”
“Since that first morning?”
“There were more couples than beds. It didn’t take much to figure something was going on.”
“And since?”
“Come on. I know you guys pretty well. You play by your own rules. You aren’t going to deny it, are you?”
“No. Not really. So, is there a question here somewhere?”
“Yeah. Just what are your rules? They don’t seem to match my mom’s.”
I said, “Our rules? Well, I guess the key rule for us is that love always comes before sex.”
“You’d be telling me that my playing around with a few girls violated that rule, wouldn’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess. But all kids experiment. It’s no big deal. I think you’re wise not to be into fucking. You could regret that later on.”
“When you talk about love, you’re talking about more than just loving your wife or partner, right?”
Phil said, “I think you can love more than one person. And you can love in different ways. I love Franklin in a way that I love no one else. He’s really special for me. I love Tim and Charlie, and the rest of the Gang, in a different way, but it’s still a kind of love.”
I said, “It’s hard to define. And it hard to explain where or when the word love really applies. You can’t just say that anybody that you are eager to have sex with is someone you love. There has to be a lot more to it than that.”
“I think I know what you mean. But once you have that kind of love, sex is OK. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Not quite,” I said. “First, sex always has to be honest. That means you have to be completely honest with your sex partner, and also with others you love. A man doesn’t leave his wife at home and go slip into the bed of the mistress he, quote, loves, unquote.”
“But if a man and his wife are really close to someone, or another couple, then sex is OK. Is that right?”
“There are more rules. They all sort of follow common sense. You have to respect people. And you have to respect their comfort zone. You don’t push people into doing things that make them uncomfortable. And this one is important for you, Sid. Adults don’t mess around with kids. Period. And Sid, you’re eighteen, and most of your classmates in the fall will be seventeen. Crossing that line can get you in real trouble. That can be tough on you as a kid a year older than most of his classmates, but, believe me, that’s a line you cross at your peril.”
“My mom’s given me that lecture several times. I get the message. Since summer I’ve been dating a black girl at the university–she was a freshman last year. We met when I was doing special art studies at the university this spring. She’s almost nineteen. We haven’t had any kind of sex, and I’m not sure we will. Who knows. But the age problem isn’t there.”
“That’s good. What’s her name?”
“Karina Watson. She’s from Fargo.”
I said, “OK, Sid. I’ll give you one more rule. It’s a rule that Tim has given to a lot of people, including the Gang. It’s this, ‘If you can’t talk about it, you shouldn’t be doing it. If you haven’t talked about fucking, dicks, cunts, and condoms, you shouldn’t be playing with them.’”
Phil said, “A lot of teenagers, even adults, find it’s easier to grab hold of a dick or stick a finger in a cunt than to talk about either one of them. But it’s really important: talk first; play second. If you can’t talk; don’t play. And that applies whether you’re experimenting or think you’re in love.”
“I’ve never had this kind of a conversation with anybody. My friends would be giggling by now. My mom would be embarrassed. My sisters aren’t ready, and my girlfriends certainly couldn’t pass the ‘Talk first, play second,’ test. Maybe Karina could; none from high school.”
“We’re here when you want to talk. Tim and Charlie are good talkers and listeners as well.”
“What if I wanted to do more than talk?”
“With us?”
“Yeah, maybe. You know, I never got anywhere with Prince, but I’ve wondered what it’d be like to suck a man’s dick.”
“You’d wouldn’t have much luck sucking a woman’s dick, Sid.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, we do. And you’re off limits.”
“I’m eighteen.”
Phil answered, “And in high school. A college freshman and a high school senior who’s the age of a college freshman is one thing. I’m thirty-five and Franklin is thirty. There’s no way it’d be appropriate for us to be involved, in any sexual way, with a high school student.”
“You guys are five years apart?”
“Yeah.”
“And you didn’t cross any lines back then?”
“No. Never. We weren’t even tempted.”
“That’s only because Charlie waited until I was eighteen before he introduced us. It would’ve been tough if we’d known each other before we were both adults. Get Tim and Charlie to tell you about their forty months.”
I said, “Sid, what ever gave you the idea to paint that picture of the naked board of trustees?”
“I’ve been watching you guys. I kind of had a feeling that Tim and Charlie would like that. It was fun to paint. I had to paint it at home; I couldn’t do it at school. After my mom thought the picture was finished I added the little touches of genitalia. I think they make the picture.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Did Tim like it?”
“He loved it. So did Charlie. So did we all.”
“Is it still in his closet?”
“No, it’s moved. I can’t tell you where, but it’s in a wonderful place.”
Right about then the sun dipped below the horizon. It got noticeably darker and cooler. “Time for me to go home. Thanks for talking with me, guys. I’ll see you.”
Phil said, “That’s one horny kid.”
I said, “That’s one very mature kid.”
“He sure is. You know, he’s going to be back in a year looking for two cocks to suck.”
“I guess he is. And I bet we let him.”
“If he can talk about it first.”
“He already has. You didn’t see him being embarrassed or anything, did you?”
“Not Sid.”
That summer I stewed on our conversation; it haunted me during the trip to Montreal. As I thought about different parts of it, my mind came back to Sid’s obvious delight at painting the picture of the nude trustees. I’m not exactly sure when the light bulb came on, but it did. In one instant I saw the Gangland walls covered with nude portraits of the entire Gang. All painted by Sid.
Phil thought it was a wonderful idea. Clearly Sid had the maturity to handle it, and he’d love to do it. Just exactly when, where, and how Sid would get it done had to be worked out. The first step was to talk to Sid, and if he was interested we’d have to show him Gangland. Clearly that was where he’d have to do the painting; it was private and seeing where a painting would be displayed would help him get the portraits right for the setting.
That fall we swore Sid to secrecy and took him to The Carl, up the private elevator to the fourth floor, and into the utility closet. Gangland blew his mind. And there, over the bed, was his trustee portrait. We let the scene soak in, and then we said, “How would you like to paint small nude portraits of the entire Gang to hang on the other walls?”
“How many is that?”
“49. There are 45 Gang members and there are about to be three new ones, plus one that’s deceased.”
“Are they going to pose for me?”
“Phil and I will. Maybe a few others, we’re still working it out. But the idea is that this whole thing is going to be a surprise for the Gang.”
Sid looked puzzled and said, “I’m going to paint 48 portraits and it’s going to be a surprise? Do you understand the concept of portrait painting?”
“You do understand the concept of photography, don’t you?”
“And you’re going to get nude photos of every member of the Gang?
“That’s our problem. We’ll work on it. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t think of this before we were all together in Montreal.”
Phil said, “You would’ve had a hard time explaining a series of nude photo shoots, and it certainly would’ve gotten every body talking.”
Sid said, “OK, let’s talk about these portraits. About sixteen inches tall, so the figures are about a foot. Does that sound right?”
“Yes. It’ll fill the walls, but it’ll work.”
“Now, the images. You don’t want them to be pornographic, but you do want them to be erotic, right?”
“How do you see the difference?”
“A girl on a bed sticking a dildo in is porn. A nude girl with a slight, ‘Come hither,’ look is erotic. We can discuss specific poses. With men, the question of hard-ons immediately comes to mind. Also masturbation.”
“Sid, you amaze me. Do you have any idea how few of your contemporaries could talk so calmly of hard-ons and masturbation? You really didn’t need our, ‘Talk first,’ advice.”
“Oh, yes, I did. And I took your advice. Before our June conversation I was a different boy. One thing I should do in these paintings to make them erotic is to just slightly enlarge the genitalia and breasts. Here’s what I need for each person. A whole body, front photo, naked or dressed. A rear photo as well, if possible. Obviously, the less clothes the better. When you go hunting for photos, swim suit shots should be fairly easy, and they’re the best short of nude photos. A head shot will be very helpful. Then, if this isn’t going to be make believe, I need a photo of the genitalia, as close up as possible. I can work with some black and whites, but I need something in color. And if the genitalia shot is black and white I need to know the color of the pubic hair. Or, I need a live, naked, human.”
“After we get the photos, how long is this going to take?”
“These are small, and I paint pretty fast. I’ll do minimal backgrounds, it’s the foreground that you’re interested in. I think I can do a portrait in about three hours. We’re talking a 150 to 200 hours.”
“Wow, you are fast. OK, Phil and I are going to work on the photos.”
Sid said, “Franklin, take off your clothes, I want to see something.”
Without thinking, or I guess thinking that Sid was planning his painting procedures, or something, I took off my clothes. Sid walked over to me, grabbed my dick and squeezed.
“Thanks, I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.”
Phil was in stitches. I was had. Sid continued, “I think that you should be painted with a hard-on, just like the one you have now.”
Phil was now almost on the floor. I was had, and hard. Sid hadn’t let go, but he did when I took him by the shoulders, lifted him up, and tossed him on the bed.
“Can I take off my clothes for you, now,” he said.
“Definitely not.” He didn’t try.
Phil threw my briefs at me, hitting me in the face. “Put your clothes on, sucker.”
I did, quite sheepishly.
That evening Phil and I got down to the business of figuring out how we were going to get hold of the photos we needed. We realized that we were going to have to deal with each member of the Gang, or at least each partnership, separately. We began with Tim and Charlie. Merle had made wonderful sketches of Tim and Charlie naked in the nude practice session before the Penn gymnastics meet. I was sure he’d share the sketches we needed. Tim and Charlie had two, but where were the rest? Probably still in New York, and Merle was in Paris. I wrote him immediately.
Phil and I were no problem. That left 44 Gang members, one dead, to deal with. We decided to let Andy in on the secret, and charged him with getting the needed pictures of the foursome and their four parents. He agreed. In fact, he already had what we needed of the foursome, and he thought his father probably had of the four parents!
Marty agreed to get pictures of Fred, and of himself. We didn’t have to tell him much, other than we were putting together a surprise. He also agreed to not say anything to anybody. But he did raise an interesting question: He’d be glad to take the pictures, but where were we going to get them processed? If we sent nudes like that to a commercial lab, we could get in trouble. Most home dark rooms worked in black and white and we wanted color. We told him we’d work on that and let him know.
Sid solved that problem for us, easily. He had a friend at the university that had a color darkroom at his home in Grand Forks. He could take films over and use his facilities. He often worked alone, as his friend had an evening job as a waiter.
I called Sharon on the phone and told her what we needed. The California trio hadn’t been in Grand Forks since Gangland opened, so they knew nothing about it. Thus there was no chance of their figuring out how the pictures would be used. Sharon simply said, “I think that’ll be one very interesting photo shoot. I’m sure I can entice the boys. I’ll mail you the film undeveloped. I’d love to get back a set of the pictures.” Of course, she got them. The roll contained a lot more interesting stuff than Sid needed. He had great fun showing us the pictures he’d printed to send to Sharon. As he handed me the picture of Kyle and Ronnie doing 69 he said, “Next year, you and me. That’s how you pay for the portraits. Phil too.” He had us, and he knew it. “And we know what bed, don’t we?”
Tom and Nancy were good sports and furnished pictures (undeveloped film) without asking too many questions. They were promised that someday they’d see the finished product, whatever the finished product was–we wouldn’t say.
Coach Johnson was asked to take care of the six frolickers in the Twin Cities: the Johnsons and Hal and Tim’s parents. We knew Coach was into the spirit of the thing when he asked, “Do you want these penises hard or soft?”
We told him, “Both.”
We decided to let my parents in on the secret, and they agreed to be live models for Sid. I wasn’t sure how much Sid had worked with live, nude models. Certainly he hadn’t in high school, but there was no telling what he’d been doing over at the university. But I had a feeling that in the course of this project he was going to work with more live nudes than in all the rest of his experience. He later told me that he’d never worked with live nude models before; that was limited to advanced art majors. However, he’d worked with the nude form using photographs. This project was going to give him some interesting experiences!
Charlie had been right. Billy’s folks, Bill and Martha had moved up to Grand Forks shortly after Charlie and Tim arrived. Bill was now working out of his firm’s Grand Forks office most days, but had to be in Fargo one or two days a week. They sold their Fargo home, but kept a small apartment there for Bill, and sometimes for both on a weekend visit. They had a lovely new home in Grand Forks, and had become good friends of all of the Gang. I’m not sure how sexually involved they were with the rest of the Gang, but Martha was completely enthralled by the size of Phil’s and my penises. When we would arrive Martha would greet us with a quick kiss and then say, “Gotta see ‘em. Gotta touch.” We’d laugh and drop our pants to our knees. She’d pull down one of our briefs and stare at it. Then she’d move to the other of us, pull down those briefs, and grab and squeeze till it was very hard. Then she’d simply say, “Thanks, I needed that.”
Bill would watch all of this with a twinkle in his eye, laugh, and say, “Martha, you can’t leave them like that!”
She’d say, “Whyever not?”
We were used to the game and would simply pull up our pants. However, one of us would say, “You owe us, and we’ll collect before you leave.” Sometimes we did, and sometimes we didn’t, but Martha was always willing.
Bill didn’t seem to mind any of this. One evening he said, “You know, I have a pretty small dick. It does the job, Billy is my witness. But Martha likes to play with yours. It’s fun to watch you play with her.” Bill liked to get one of our big ones up his ass from time to time as well.
With that in the background, we didn’t think Bill and Martha would object to a photo session, and we were right. I’ll have to admit it was rather fun. Our dicks got photographed as much as their genitals, and it made for a pretty sexy evening. They had good swimming suit pictures of Billy, of course, but also of Sara. We’d seen the two of them naked enough that we figured that we could fill in the needed details for Sid.
A phone call to Dick at camp took care of our needs for him, Jeff, Paul and Amanda. With all three of them he simply said, “Look, I don’t know what it’s all about (he didn’t), but the Gang needs nude photos of us and I have been asked to take them. He made a special trip over to Ironwood for Paul and Amanda. Amanda had said, “You can take all the pictures you want; we trust you. But you have to be naked yourself.” Before he was allowed to take pictures of their genitals, he had to lay down on a bed and masturbate. They borrowed the camera and took pictures of him doing it–the pictures were, of course, in the camera when Sid got the film developed. He showed them to us, and I think he was a little embarrassed. Dick had warned us what was on the film.
I took a flying trip to Madison and Detroit to photograph Ronnie’s folks and Tom’s folks. Both were good sports and were willing not to ask too many questions. I started in Detroit, where Sam and Beverly fed me dinner and hosted me overnight. The photo shoot was that evening, and it didn’t lead to any kind of sex; they just disrobed, let me shoot to my heart’s content, and put their clothes back on. Beverly said, “Franklin, I hope you don’t mind that this didn’t lead to any kind of sex, but Sam and I are still getting used to the idea, and sex with you alone just didn’t seem to be in the cards.”
I assured them that that wasn’t a problem; I came for photos, and I got photos, and I appreciated their willingness to cooperate. I told them that their first visit to Grand Forks would include seeing how the photos would be used–and I assured them that it wouldn’t be upsetting to them. They trusted me, thank goodness. That kind of trust was a hallmark of the Gang.
Madison was a different story. Frank and Adele weren’t about to take their clothes off and not, in Frank’s words, have a “romp in the hay.” They were as intrigued with the size of my dick as Martha, and both eagerly played with it and sucked it. Neither could come close to getting very much of it down their throats, but they did try. Amidst all this playing I came in Frank’s hands. Then I just sat back and watched them fuck. They were a little embarrassed at first, but they quickly got past that. They put on a good show. I kept the pictures limited to what Sid needed.
I wanted a picture of Hal running. Even though I wouldn’t tell him what for, he agreed, and we went out into the country where he could run naked without being bothered. Sue came along and ran with him. I convinced her to run naked as well, and I got some really interesting pictures.
Phil and I decided that Tina and Merle should have clothes on in their portraits, since they had excluded themselves from the sexual activities of the Gang. We had no shortage of pictures of them with clothes on.
That left Carl and Carol. I really wanted this to be a surprise for Carl, so I didn’t want him to know that I was taking nude pictures of the Gang. I leveled with Carol, and she admitted that she already had some pictures of Carl that would do the job. She agreed to live modeling for herself.
By the first of December I had all the pictures, or nude modeling commitments, that I needed. Sid was ready to go. I told the Gang living in Grand Forks, that Gangland was off limits for the month of December and perhaps January. Carl let me change the code on the door, even though I refused to tell him what would be going on inside. We moved the bed aside and Sid set up a studio in the middle of the room. He covered the room with naked photos and went to work. He worked naked! He said, “I have to feel erotic to paint erotic.”
About a week into the process Sid came to me and said, “I need another male model. You’re going to laugh at this, but I need a model I can pose in different ways to see how his dick and balls fall. In particular, I need to turn one upside down to see his dick–the picture of Tim is going to be him doing his inverted “T.” Your and Phil’s dicks simply aren’t normal; I can’t use you. Your father is too old; dicks change with age. Who can we get?”
I answered, “Andy. He’s in on the secret. He provided us photos that included himself, but I’m sure he’d get a charge out of posing; especially since you work naked.”
It was an interesting session. Sid photographed and sketched Andy’s genitals from every possible angle, in every possible pose: standing, leaning, walking, laying down, standing on his head, jumping, you name it. Then he told me to arouse Andy completely and get him good and hard. That accomplished–it didn’t take long–Sid put Andy through the same poses, stopping once or twice for me to get him fully aroused again. Clearly Sid wasn’t planning a series of nudes all standing there staring at the artist. This was going to be a lively crowd. I was eager to see the results.
When Sid was finished with Andy, he simply said, “Gee, thanks, Andy. That was really helpful.”
Andy said, “No way. You can’t get me all riled up like this and simply say thank you.”
I said, “Andy; Jim, Kara, and Amy are waiting at home; they’ll take care of your needs.”
“No way. I’m not leaving here unfulfilled. Sid’s off limits, so that leaves you, Franklin. And I think Sid wants to watch. Considering what he’s seen already, watching will be good for him.”
I grabbed him, tossed him on the bed, and took off my clothes. I pushed his legs up, spit on his ass and rubbed it a little, entered him, and pounded away. It was pretty rough, but I knew he’d like it. He was well aroused, and my hand easily arranged for us both to come at the same time. Sid got a sex ed class that he didn’t expect. His comment? “Neat.”
We gave Sid the temporary new code to the room so he could get in and work. He promised that he would never bring anyone with him, and he kept that promise. I know he would’ve liked to bring Karina, but he admitted that it’d probably be all over campus in hours. We couldn’t have that, and Sid understood.
When everything was ready–the room, the photos, the models, his easel and paints, everything–Sid said, “OK, we need to talk. Tell me everything you can about the Gang, about them as individuals. I have to get the poses right. Tell me the stories, especially the most important ones, the ones you repeat a lot, about each member of the gang.” We talked for hours, for two days, in fact. Finally Sid said, “OK, I’m ready. You two get lost. I’ll see you in a month.”
Sid was clearly moving to being a member of the Gang. We had no trouble getting Jerry to pose for Sid, and he asked Judy if she’d be willing. As you probably guessed, Judy didn’t have any reservations about it either. Phil and I sent a letter to the Gang in November suggesting that the three be added to the Gang. Replies were, of course, all favorable. We now numbered 48.
By the fifth of December Sid was ready to start painting. Phil and I were told to stay out of Gangland and not bother him. As soon as Christmas vacation started Sid spent almost all of his waking moments painting. His mother called us and asked us what he was up to, “I hardly see him. He says he’s doing a project for you, Franklin. What gives?”
“April, he’s doing a project for me, and for the rest of our Gang. He’s painting portraits for us, but they’re private; I don’t think that he’s going to be able to show them to anybody. I hope you don’t mind.”
“I’ve learned to trust you boys. But I expect him to be with his family on Christmas, you hear?”
“We hear, April. Just tell Sid.”
Sid told us that he’d slipped out late Christmas afternoon and headed to The Carl to paint. And the next day he told me that all would be ready for a big New Year’s Eve bash at Gangland. Tim and Charlie had already invited all of the Gang resident in North Dakota for New Year’s Eve, and I called up Tim and told him that there was a big surprise at Gangland that would be revealed at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve. He should bring the entire Gang over to The Carl to meet in Carl’s penthouse studio by 11:30. He agreed, even though I steadfastly refused to satisfy his curiosity as to what the surprise was.
Sid had no intention of letting me, Phil, or anybody else have an advance peek. We were told to go to Tim’s party and come to The Carl with everyone else. We did.
As we stood around Carl’s penthouse on New Year’s Eve we all speculated on what was afoot. Of course, Phil and I knew, and those we’d let in on the secret when we took the photos easily figured out what was going to happen. At a quarter to midnight we took everyone down the service stairs in the dark, leading them down the hall outside Gangland. I punched in the code and led them inside where Sid had all of the lights out. We gathered in the large room and Sid counted down the seconds to midnight. At the stroke of twelve he yelled “Happy New Year,” kissed me, and switched on the lights!
Everyone began by kissing the Gang member they were next to, and then one by one they started noticing the pictures on the wall. From nearly everyone we heard two outbursts: a general expression of delight when they saw the display of nude pictures, and then something like “Oh, my God,” when they found the pictures of themselves.
Carl quickly got his wits about him and figured the whole thing out. He came to me and said, “You got Sid to paint all of these, didn’t you? Where did you ever get the idea? It’s wonderful.”
“From the trustee painting he did. And from his nude basketball pictures, but you may never have seen those. They’re great.”
Tim came over, “I’m overwhelmed. What a wonderful idea. Come here, Sid.”
Sid came over and Tim lifted him up on the bed. “Everybody, Sid’s the newest member of the Gang. And he’s just given us an absolutely fantastic gift. Regrettably, it’s a gift that we can’t publicly recognize. But tonight he deserves a rousing cheer.”
He got it. He got a lot of kisses and hugs as well. And from me he got a few strokes in the groin which he gleefully returned. He whispered in my ear, “The day after graduation. We have a date.”
“OK, Sid, you earned it.”
The pictures were spectacular. Sid did a masterful job, not only artistically, but in planning the poses. Virtually everyone said of their own picture, “You got it right,” or “I love it.” The few who expressed doubts were quickly told by other members of the Gang that Sid had it right, whether they liked it or not!
Here’s the run down on his pictures:
Charlie, number one, the first member of the Gang, led off with his arm extended as if he was introducing the entire Gang to a new visitor to the room. He was completely naked, as were almost all of the pictures, except that he had his Olympic gold medal around his neck. His penis was about half erect!
Tim was number two, hanging from the rings in an inverted “T”; he simply exuded strength in his entire body. His smile seemed to be inviting you to tickle his dick as it hung there sticking out at you.
Tom was number three, standing nude but wearing his peaked Air Force hat. Somehow Sid had managed to make it appear that his dick was saluting.
I was number four, standing there looking straight at the artist, very erect and very huge.
Hal, five, was standing tying his shoe. Ever since that morning in the woods at camp when they’d told Hal to take his clothes off, Hal had learned to put on and take off his shoes standing up. He explained that it was a matter of balance, and he considered it a point of honor that he could easily do it. Sid had seen him do it (clothed) and had decided on that pose over the more obvious picture of him running. Hal loved it.
Jim, six, seemed to be leaning out of the painting looking at Andy.
Andy, seven, was a mirror image, leaning out of his picture looking at Jim. Both of their penises were just slightly erect, as if they were just beginning to think about the other.
Ronnie, eight, stood facing the artist, his nipples being massaged by one male and one female hand extending in from opposite sides of the picture.
Carl, number nine, was standing naked in front of his building entrance.
Tina, number ten, was standing clothed in a blouse and skirt in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris. A strong wind was blowing, and she was attempting to hold her blouse together, but failing, and one tit had flopped out.
Carol at number eleven was very pregnant and very nude.
Sue, twelve, was running. The foot of a second runner is shown running behind her. The foot has the same shoe that Hal was tying in his picture.
Nancy, number thirteen, is lying on a bed, blissfully masturbating, the view is from the side so that it suggests more than it shows, and easily fits Sid’s definition of erotic rather than pornographic.
Phil, fourteen, was lathered up with soap in the Gangland shower. Phil hadn’t told me anything about his posing like that for Sid.
Merle, fifteen, was on the Champs-Elysees in Paris, dressed very prim and proper.
Kara, sixteen, is leaning out of her picture looking at Jim and Andy, clearly liking what she sees.
Amy, seventeen, is posed the same, except that she has to lean even farther out of the picture to look around Kara and see Jim and Andy. To do this, she is hanging onto the picture frame. Sid’s work on these two paintings was masterful; it was incredible the way he got the three dimensional image on a flat canvas.
Felix, once the possessor of number eighteen, had his back to us so that we could see the “18" on his buns while he turned his upper body around to see us. All of the pictures were framed in a neat, dark, natural wood frame with a light earth-tone matte. Felix’ picture had a second black matte giving a black line around the painting. Sid had really caught the essence of Felix, with a smirk on his face as if he was the dirty old man that he kidded about being. I saw that Tim and Charlie had moist eyes as they viewed the picture together.
Sharon, now a new number eighteen, was seen with a marker writing equations on a glass wall. She had her back to a conference table at which vague figures could be seen. Our view was from the opposite side of the glass so that we saw her front, and the nipple of one breast was just touching–sort of kissing–the glass. Sid swears the equations are real, but we’ll have to wait for Ronnie, Kyle, or Sharon to verify that.
Kyle, nineteen, is sitting in a chair turned a quarter turn away from the same conference table, clearly looking at the front of the room and what we know is there. His hand is gently massaging his balls as his penis falls on top of his fingers.
Peter, twenty, is seen in profile, very hard.
Norma, twenty-one, is standing facing the artist, looking worn out, a dildo is laying near her feet on the floor.
Norman, twenty-two, is the first of a tableau of six, all undressing. For all six the process is sufficiently advanced that their genitals show. Nevertheless, Sid managed to show a progression of time from one to the next. Norman is naked except for his underwear which he has just pulled down about mid-thigh. He is completely flaccid.
Betsy, number twenty-three and the second of the tableau, has her bra still on but is in the process of removing her panties. She is standing on one foot as she prepares to slip them off the other foot.
John, number twenty-four and the third of the tableau, has just taken off a pair of boxer shorts which are still in his hand. He’s just straightening up and is fully erect in anticipation of obvious pleasure.
Hazel, number twenty-five and the fourth of the tableau, has just straightened up from removing her panties and is now stretching behind her to loosen her bra.
Herb, number twenty-six and the fifth of the tableau, is fully erect, completely naked, and raring to go!
Phyllis, number twenty-seven and the sixth of the tableau, is as ready as Herb, and is reaching out and pulling a penis toward her, just barely into the picture. Judging by the shape and color it’s clearly Herb’s penis.
Frank, twenty-eight, is holding hands with a person to his left, clearly Adele in the next picture. His right hand is scratching his ass.
Adele, twenty-nine, is the mirror image of Frank–his hand in her right hand–fingering her hair with her left hand.
Curtis, thirty, is standing looking to the side of the artist, like he was listening to another person. He looks astonished at what he’s hearing, and we all agreed that Andy has just asked Melanie, “Does Dad come in your mouth?”
Melanie, thirty-one, is grinning, obviously at Curtis’ embarrassment.
Walter, thirty-two, has hold of his own penis and is examining it carefully.
Trudi, thirty-three, is conducting a similar examination of her breasts.
Sam, thirty-four, is wet from having just stepped from the shower, which can be seen in the background. He’s gripping the two ends of a towel which he’s using to dry his butt. This is shaking his penis from side to side, and the motion is caught with the penis sticking out almost sideways.
Beverly, thirty-five, is being modest and is unsuccessfully using her hands to hide her private parts.
Billy, thirty-six, is just entering the water from a dive. His back is arched so that his penis is thrust toward the artist. Sid caught the essence of one of the sleekest, sexiest bodies I’ve ever seen. It’s impossible for me to look at that picture and not get aroused.
Sara, thirty-seven, is standing poolside, being splashed.
Fred, thirty-eight, is standing–proudly showing off a totally shaved groin.
Paul, thirty-nine, is on a mat, wrestling with himself. I know that that’s difficult to imagine, but Sid has captured an image that really makes Paul look like he’s engaged in a fierce wrestling match with himself as his opponent. The head of his penis is peeking out from behind an elbow.
Amanda, forty, is standing in front of a classroom, keeping her eye on her class, and pointing to words on a blackboard. It’s clear that the lesson involves the process of a penis getting an erection. She doesn’t seem the least embarrassed by being naked.
Dick, forty-one, is standing, facing the artist, jacking off. He seems to be saying, “Sure, it’s pornographic; make something of it.”
Jeff, forty-two, has his hands on his hips while he blows a whistle. He’s blowing hard and this stiffens the muscles throughout his body, which thrusts his dick forward.
Marty, forty-three, is swinging naked on a pommel horse. We can see his dick and balls swinging from the centrifugal force.
Bill, forty-four, is modeling the fishnet shirt, and nothing else.
Martha, forty-five, seems to be watching something (in a fishnet shirt perhaps?) while she pensively fingers her clit.
Jerry, forty-six, is naked, erect, and pushing away a black hand that seems determined to grab his dick or balls.
Judy, forty-seven, is naked, and is pulling toward her a very masculine hand that doesn’t appear to be resisting her efforts.
There is no doubt about it, the last picture was Sid’s masterpiece. The idea was very consciously lifted from Norman Rockwell’s Triple Self-Portrait. There is Sid, number forty-eight, standing with his back to us, fully clothed, and painting at an easel, while he looks at himself in a mirror. In the mirror we see his front side as he paints. He remains fully clothed. On the easel is a picture of himself, virtually complete. His picture on the easel is completely nude. His penis is not yet painted in, but pinned to the edge of the easel are two sketches, one of a flaccid penis and the other of an erect penis. He’s clearly debating with himself which of the two he should use. From the smirk that we can see in the mirror, but which is missing from the image on the easel, we can guess which of the two penis images he’ll choose!
Carl called us all to order. Sid was praised for his skill and generosity, and heartily welcomed into the Gang along with Jerry and Judy. Carl then announced that the Gangland code had already been restored to its original number so that all could enter. He went on to say, “All new members of the Gang will celebrate their new status by posing for their portrait with Sid. You aren’t a member of the Gang till your picture hangs on the wall!
To be continued...
Posted: 09/26/08