Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality

 by: Charlie

© 2005-2011

 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

 

Episode 155 

Nettie 

 

Charlie has given me quite an assignment.  In addition to telling my own story of growing up COG, I’m supposed to update you on some of the other COGen.  (I know, everyone else says COGs.  But I figure that if the plural of child is children then the plural of COG is COGen.  So that’s what I say.)  Remember, at this time there were 66 living Gang members and 21 COGen, with only one overlap–Willie the oldest COG.  That’s a lot of stories.  Obviously, some are more interesting than others, but considering that the Gang was the Gang, none were really uninteresting.  Nevertheless, it hasn’t been possible to keep up with everybody, so I’m going to be playing catchup for Charlie.

 

I’ll start with me.  Perry’s told you a little about growing up in Iron Mountain.  Of course, he learned about things (the Gang, our bodies, STS) at a younger age than I did, simply because when my parents talked with me they always included Perry.  We had a couple of colossal fights.  The first time Dad broke us up, with the firm warning that that was the last time he was going to do that.  We had to learn to settle things between ourselves; he and Mom weren’t going to do it for us.  Shortly thereafter we were at it again.  I  couldn’t possibly remember what it was about, but it was a lulu of a fight: hair pulling, hitting, kicking, everything but biting.  Mom and Dad just watched.  I think that the main reason that Perry and I kept at it was to force Mom or Dad to intervene.  It slowly became clear that one of us would have to be in serious danger of death or at least hospitalization before anyone would step in; and that realization brought the battle to an end–what was the point?  There were a couple more battles, nothing very spirited, and that seemed to end it.  We decided that it made better sense to be good friends–which we usually were in any case. 

 

Perry has told you of our sex play together; I won’t repeat it.  He also suggested that I was much less inclined to be sexually involved with my school contemporaries that he.  Well, either he’s trying to protect me (thanks, but it’s not needed), or his memory is a little weak.  I guess he was right that he played around more than I did, but I wasn’t a prude.  I let boys move their hands around my body, and I had my hands inside a number of flies.  I lost my clothes with a couple, but, until Marshall, all orgasms were by hand.  I don’t think that makes me a prude!

 

As Perry told you, early in my senior year I started dating a boy named Marshall.  We had known each other since grade school, where we thought the opposite sex was icky; each had thought the other sort of aloof in junior high school; and in the first three years of high school we had simply ignored each other.   Perry has written about how we hooked up in the fall of our senior year, gradually became a couple through that fall, and became sexually active during our trip to Grand Forks with my family at Christmas.

 

Things were different after our return to Ironwood following Christmas.  We were dating steadily, and beginning to talk about being in love.  Not just in pro forma, “I love you,” speeches, but serious conversations about whether we wanted to make our lives together.  I had insisted that Marshall, my parents, and I should talk seriously about birth control.  That almost blew Marshall’s mind, but he screwed up his courage for the conversation, which was vastly easier than he had expected.  He joined us at dinner one night–Perry had already left for the Bahamas–and after dinner we all sat down in the living room. 

 

Since Marshall and I usually went off by ourselves–either for a movie or some kind of date, to study, or to be alone together in my room (yes, for that)–our all heading to the living room was my father’s clue to ask, “OK, kids, what’s up?”

 

I knew that Marshall wasn’t going to start the conversation, so I did.  “Dad, Marshall and I are fast approaching the point at which we need to talk about birth control.”

 

Mom looked at Marshall and asked, “This conversation is Nettie’s idea, isn’t it, Marshall?  You’d really like to be somewhere else right now, wouldn’t you?  Like maybe downtown Pittsburgh?”

 

“I was thinking maybe Timbuktu.”

 

Dad chuckled, “Well, I don’t blame you, young man.  But in this family this is the normal way we do things.  No subject is off limits.  You have nothing to be afraid of with us, including our repeating anything to your parents.  We’re well aware that most families are unable to have conversations like this.”

 

“Thanks,” was about all Marshall could get out.

 

Mom said, “OK, Nettie.  There are basically three choices: a variety of mechanical devices, the pill, and abstinence.  Under mechanical devices I would list condoms, diaphragms, and IUDs.  There are a variety of pills, but they’re all essentially the same drug, estrogen, but they’ve learned to do it with lower and lower dosages.  Under abstinence you could include never having intercourse, early withdrawal, the rhythm method, perhaps a couple of other routines.  OK, what works?  The pill is highly effective.  The mechanical devices all are highly effective, if they’re used faithfully and correctly, which isn’t necessarily going to be the case in the heat of passion.  Abstinence works, of course, but if you play around with your fingers, even that can lead to accidents.  Early withdrawal and rhythm are highly unreliable.  Paul, would you say that sums it all up pretty well?”

 

Dad said, “I think so.  Your bias certainly shows.”

 

I said, “You think I ought to be on the pill, right?”

 

Mom said, “Right.  If that’s what you want, we’ll make an appointment with Dr. Petersen for as soon as he can see you and Marshall.”

 

Marshall said, “Me?  I’m not going to be taking the pill.”

 

Nettie said, “Why Marshall, Mom?”

 

Dad said, “I hadn’t thought of that, but I think it’s an excellent idea.  You two are talking about a major decision of your teen life, and maybe for your entire lives.  A lot is at stake.  Dr. Petersen is a friend as well as our doctor, and will provide complete confidentiality.  Frankly, Marshall, if you aren’t up to joining Nettie with Dr. Petersen, then I don’t think you’re up to fucking my daughter.”

 

I’m not sure whether it was the invitation, the clear notion that he had better accept it, or the use of the word fucking that got Marshall’s attention, but something did.  Right then and there he realized that this was a serious conversation, that he was in the thick of it, and that where his life was headed was in the balance.  He rose to the occasion, “Mr. Weeks....”

 

“Marshall, I’ve always told you to call me Paul.”

 

“Paul, if you, Amanda, and Nettie think that I should join her on her visit to Dr. Petersen, I’ll be glad to.  Honestly, I’d be honored to.  You’re treating me like a man, not a boy, and I appreciate it.  My God, it never occurred to me that this evening was going to turn out like this.”

 

A week later, right after school, Marshall and I drove to Dr. Petersen’s office.  The appointment was for me, and the nurse and receptionist were surprised when I motioned for Marshall to come in with me.  The nurse said, “He can wait out here.”

 

I said, “No, he’s part of the visit.  We both need to talk to Dr. Petersen.”

 

Marshall was reluctantly allowed to come with me to the examining room, where we waited for Dr. Petersen.  The nurse had alerted him to Marshall’s presence, so he wasn’t caught off guard when he came into the room.  “Well, Nettie, will you introduce me to your friend?”

 

“Dr. Petersen, this is Marshall Chalmers.  Marshall, this is Dr. Petersen, doctor and friend to my whole family.”

 

“What brings you both here?”

 

Bless him, Marshall spoke up.  I don’t think if our roles had been reversed that I would’ve been able to open my mouth.  “Doctor, Nettie and I are falling in love.  We may be a little young, but in today’s world, that means that we’re beginning to venture into a sexual relationship.  We haven’t had intercourse yet, and we don’t know when we will.  But it’s time to talk about birth control.  We had a very open conversation with Nettie’s parents, and they suggested that we think about Nettie taking the pill, and they suggested that both of us visit you to talk to you about it.”

 

Dr. Petersen had been standing for all of that.  He stood looking at us for a while and then leaned back against his examining table.  Then he said, “Young man, in all my years of practice, I’ve never had a man accompany a woman–his wife, his lover, or his girlfriend–to talk about birth control.  You’re a remarkable man, even if your being here was Paul or Amanda’s idea.  You are here, and it took real guts.  Nettie, I believe that you’ve picked a winner.”

 

“Thank you, Doctor, I know I have.”

 

“Well, I agree with your parents that the pill is the way to go.  The minor problems we’ve had with the pill have essentially been eliminated with the lower dosage formulas used now.  It’s highly reliable.  I need to examine you, and order some routine drug tests.  Then since you two seem to be able to deal with things that most young people your age, and older I might add, can’t deal with, we need to talk about STDs, in particular AIDS.”

 

He continued, “Nettie, it’s customary that my nurse and not Marshall be present for your pelvic exam.”

 

“He came this far, Doctor, I want him to stay.”

 

“Well, put on this gown.  Marshall, I’d like to examine you as well.  I was serious when I talked about STDs, and I’d like to look you over.”

 

By this time Marshall was ready for just about anything.  He said, “I guess you’d better get a gown for me, too.”

 

Dr. Petersen got a gown from a drawer, handed it to Marshall, and left them alone, after telling them to remove all clothing below the waist.

 

They looked at each other, smiled sheepishly, and got undressed.  Seeing each other naked was nothing new, but this was certainly a new situation.  They got their gowns on and waited for Dr. Petersen, who soon knocked on the door and came in.  “OK, Nettie, up on the table.”  He did a very careful pelvic examination, while Marshall watched from a distance.  “Nettie, I see no problems.  You’re healthy, and it doesn’t look like you have any diseases that Marshall needs to fear, although blood tests are the way for us to be sure.”

 

He turned to Marshall and said, “OK, you’re next.”

 

Marshall hopped up on the table as Nettie got down.  Then he realized that he had a problem–a very hard dick.  Dr. Petersen saw his predicament immediately and turned to Nettie and started talking about her prescription, and other minor matters.  In the meantime Marshall got himself under control.  Dr. Petersen turned to Marshall and raised his legs, thus allowing the gown to fall to his waist, but at the same time hiding his genitalia behind his thighs.  With a rubber gloved hand he did a prostate exam, changed gloves, and moved to Marshall’s genitals, which he carefully examined, while Nettie watched intently.  Marshall kept his eyes on the doctor and made it through.  Dr. Petersen pulled Marshall’s gown down, and then said to both of them.  We’ll do a routine blood draw for both of you, and have the full battery of STD tests, including HIV, done.  I won’t embarrass you by asking a lot of history; the tests are always better than memory.  He told Nettie to start the pill following her next period, to come back and get checked right after the following period, and then they’d be safe.  “If you want to be super safe, wait for two periods.”

 

The doctor left; they got dressed; the nurse returned and drew blood from each of them; and they left.  When they got to the car Nettie turned to Marshall and said, “I don’t know about you, but that was one of the toughest hours I’ve ever lived through.  But it was wonderful.  Dr. Petersen was wonderful.  And you were wonderful.  Why was it so hard?”

 

“I don’t know.  But you’re absolutely right; it was tough.  As far as I’m concerned, I have a new doctor.  My doctor would’ve flipped out at the idea of you watching me be examined.”

 

“You don’t know; you may be underestimating him.”

 

“Believe me, I’m not.”  He continued, “At some point I, or we, have to talk to my parents.  I’m not sure how they’re going to deal with all of this.”

 

“I know your parents, I think they’ll be OK. Maybe we should have my parents invite you and your parents to dinner.  We can have ‘the talk’ after dinner.”

 

“We’ll see.”

 

It wasn’t long after that, and well before Dr. Petersen pronounced me “safe,” that Marshall told me about an invitation for us that he’d received from his old friend Cary Jones.  I’d known Cary in school, and knew that he was as wild as Marshall was tame, but I didn’t see anything odd about the invitation for the two of us to go to a party at the home of Tammy Sachs, a popular girl at school, but not one that we were close to.  Cary suggested that we go with him and his girlfriend of several months, Jill.  Marshall told me, “Except for Cary, I really don’t know much about these kids, but it might be fun to go.”  I knew Cary and agreed that we should go.  Cary, Jill, and Marshall came over to my house before the party and we fixed a light supper and ate it at our kitchen table–my parents had gone out for dinner at my suggestion.

 

When we got to the party there were seven couples in the group, all seniors at the high school.  We’d been there about a hour; there’d been snack food, drinks (beer and soda–standard for Ironwood teen parties) and a few of the kids had been dancing.  We were all sitting in the basement as couples, when Tammy said, “OK, everybody, clothes off.”

 

Marshall and I looked at each other, and wondered what was going on and what we’d gotten ourselves into.  We’d had no idea that this might be part of the party plan.  About half the kids there, evidently including Cary and Jill, seemed to expect this turn of events and started stripping.  One of the girls, evidently new to the group like us, got up and said, “You have to be kidding.”  She and her boyfriend walked out.

 

Tammy said, “Are the rest of you chicken, like that?”

 

Marshall looked at me and whispered, “We can go if you want.  I had no idea about this, believe me.”

 

I said, “Well, are you chicken, or do you want to stay?”

 

This wasn’t the reply Marshall had expected.  He thought for a moment and  said, “If you’re willing to stay, I’ll stay.  We’ll see what happens.  We can always leave.”

 

One of the other couples that seemed to have been caught unawares  were arguing quietly.  It appeared that the boy wanted to stay and the girl  wanted to go.  I went over and talked quietly to them, and then they left.  I’d simply suggested to them that in a situation like this if they couldn’t agree, then they  needed to respect the wishes of the one who didn’t want to play.  Evidently that convinced the boy that he should stop trying to push his girlfriend into something.

 

Of the original seven couples, three were naked, Marshall and I were  getting there, two had left, and the last, a couple named Frank and Betty whom Marshall and I didn’t know very well, seemed to have decided to play,  but were very slow at getting any clothes off.  Finally everyone was  completely naked, but most were sitting in such a way that not much  showed.

 

Marshall said, “I take it that some of you have played this game before,  whatever the game is.  Maybe some explanation is in order.”

 

Tammy said, “Yes, we’ve played before.  The ten of us here are the  largest group we’ve ever had.  And,  we’ll admit that part of the fun is watching what couples do when I ask them to strip.”

 

Betty asked, “So what is the game?  It looks like we’ve already gotten beyond strip poker.”

 

Tammy’s boyfriend, Steve, said, “We call it Farther.  We start with boys, then girls, then couples.  In the boys round, some boy stands up and does something sexual.  It usually starts with simply standing there with his legs spread.  Some boy says, “Next,” and he gets up and has to go Farther than the last boy.  Next, next, next until all the boys have had a turn.  Somebody can challenge, and say, “That’s not Farther.”  Then we vote.  If the challenger is supported by the vote, he can order the loser to do some specific thing that is Farther.  He can be challenged that it’s too far.  Another vote.  The winner of any vote always orders the loser to do  something Farther; then on to the next boy.  Then the girls; same rules.  Then couples, and what they do has to involve both parties.  In the later rounds we can specify the kinds of things you must do, like the boys must let a girl do something to them, or let a boy do something to them, and so forth.  You’ll see.  We can stop after any round that’s equal.  That means, we don’t stop after a round that the girls have done something, but we haven’t had the boys round.  I’ll start.”

 

He stood up, spread his legs, put his hands behind his head, and slowly turned around.  I was surprised that Marshall called, “Next.”  But he’d realized that in this game the sooner you jumped in, the less you had to do.  The game was Farther.

 

Marshall stood up, spread his legs, grabbed his dick, and squeezed it and wiggled it around.  Cary called, “Next” and he squeezed his dick while he tickled his balls.  The next, a boy names Mason, tickled his nipples while he squeezed his dick.  “Challenge.”  Tickling your nipples isn’t Farther than tickling your balls.”

 

“Nobody’s tickled his nipples.”

 

“But it’s not Farther.  Vote.”

 

By eight to two it wasn’t Farther.  He was ordered to tickle his balls while he stuck his finger up his ass.  The last boy, Frank, new to the game, made a fist around his dick and pretended to fuck it; it was really quite suggestive, and clearly was Farther.

 

The girls exhibitions were about the same.  Then we came to couples. I whispered to Marshall, “I’m having fun, I dare you to let us be last.”

 

Marshall was taken aback by that, but whispered back, “OK.”

 

The couples (1) kissed (Betty and Frank), (2) passionately kissed with lots of tongue (Tammy and Steve), (3) the girl (Jill) played with the boy’s (Cary’s) dick, (4) the boy (Mason) played with the girls’ (Sal’s) cunt.  “Challenge.  It just changes the sexes, but doesn’t go Farther.”

 

The vote sustained the challenge.  “Kiss his dick.”  Sal did it very tentatively.

 

Then it was our turn.  I pushed Marshall down in the middle of the floor, kissed his lips, then his nipples, then his belly button, then both balls, then the underside of his dick, then the tip of his dick, then I opened my mouth wide, dropped it about an inch over his dick, and touched it with my teeth, not really biting him.  All agreed that was Farther.

 

“What’s the fourth round?”

 

We agreed that each boy would say what he was willing to have done to him, and some girl would volunteer to do it.  When you got to the fifth boy, the remaining girl was stuck, so volunteering early was smart. However, a rule was added, you can’t volunteer to do something to your boyfriend.

 

It started with kissing Mason, then kissing Marshall’s dick, then trying to get Cary’s balls and dick together in your mouth (Jill failed, but the game was to try), then jack off Steve for a minute, then give Frank a blow job for a minute.  That fell to me.  For those last two the boys were told that, if necessary, they should stop the girl before there was an orgasm.  This was clearly going pretty far.

 

We talked about the next round, and whether there was going to be a next round.  Someone suggested the next round be gay.  Someone else suggested that the next round involve orgasms.  Someone else suggested quitting and going home.  One of the boys said, “I’m horny as Hell, I don’t want to go home.”

 

“Me neither.  Let’s pair up at random; we’ll use a deck of cards.  First round, one of the pair has to have an orgasm.  Second round the other one does.  There will almost certainly be gay and straight pairs.  Are you all  willing?”

 

“No fucking, and we’re in,” said Steve.  There was some hesitation, especially for Mason and Sal, but after some hemming and hawing we all agreed.

 

We took a deck of cards and picked out two aces, deuces, trays, fours, and fives.  We dealt them out and that created the pairs.  At first the cards paired Betty and Frank, but when Frank got the ace that matched Betty’s, he was given another card.

 

Tammy jumped up and said to Mason, her partner, “Use your finger.”  He did, and it didn’t take her long to either have an orgasm or fake it really well.

 

Next were Betty and Jill, the only such female pairing.  We wondered where Farther was going without getting to oral, but two handed was voted as Farther after a challenge by Sal.  That meant that Sal could be ordered to do a specific thing by Betty and Jill, and they told Sal to give her partner, Frank, a blow job.  That was clearly advancing the game, and I thought there might be a challenge to that as being too far, but there wasn’t.  It was pretty clear to me that this wasn’t the first blow job that Sal’d given or Frank received. I was next, and I gave Steve a blow job, and then kissed him, letting him taste himself–clearly a new experience for him.  Then it was Marshall and his friend Cary.  Marshall wasn’t sure that he appreciated having been sucked into this without warning, and decided it was payback time.  He said, “OK, we’ll both end this round and start the next.  He laid Cary on the floor, got over him in 69 position, put his dick in his mouth, and took Cary’s dick in his.  From the expressions around the room, it was a new experience for everyone.

 

There weren’t too many ways to go Farther and obey the “no fucking” rule, so the other couples just worked back through the group with oral sex.  Tammy was last, and we made sure that Farther meant she had to eat every bit that Mason shot into her mouth.  She was a good sport.

 

That ended the party, quite abruptly.  Clearly things had taken a life of their own, and they’d gone much Farther than was expected when it started.  On the way home Marshall told me, “Honest, Nettie, I had no idea what was going to happen.  I know that Tammy and Steve have been sexually involved, but I didn’t know about all of that.”

 

“I believe you, Marshall.  It did get a little out of hand.  But, you know, it was harmless.  And I think it was fun.  You really socked it to poor Cary–doing 69.  Have you ever done that before?”

 

“After my little adventure with Perry at Christmas, my brother Tom and I have become more adventurous.  We’ve tried it a couple of times.”

 

“Was this the first time you’d actually finished the job?”

 

“Yes, I may have been unfair to Cary.  But I think he’d been involved in the game before.  I was a little sore at him for not telling us what we were getting into.”

 

“If you believe Tammy, it’s part of the game to surprise the newcomers.  Maybe we should thank him.”

 

“You surprised me when you seemed to want to stay.”

 

“Marshall, remember what you learned about the Gang on our visit to Grand Forks.  I’m part of a pretty sexy bunch, this was only slightly pushing the window.  In general I think that everybody was pretty respectful of everyone else at the party.  It was fun.  That’s what teenage sex ought to be; most teenagers aren’t going to be celibate, and they aren’t falling seriously in love.”

 

“I think we are.”

 

“Oh, I do too, Marshall.  I think you know that.”

 

“I do, Nettie.”

 

“You know, Marshall, you aren’t the boy that asked to borrow my class notes last fall.”

 

“Thanks to you.”  Then he kissed me.  We were truly in love.

 

I should fill in one blank.  After their little escapade at The Hideout, Perry and Marshall found time to entertain (their word) each other.  Perry found Marshall to be good fun.  At first, it was very upsetting to Marshall having me watch them.  But the second time he admitted it was a huge turn on.  However Perry was soon off sailing, and those adventures came to an end.

 

Marshall and I planned to go to college together at UND (of course).   I was looking forward to introducing Marshall to the Gang, and to living near so many of them.  I was sure that Marshall would fit right it.  And, I’ll have to be honest, if he hadn’t I don’t think our romance would’ve gone any further.  We visited the campus in the middle of February, taking advantage of Mom and Dad’s trip to Grand Forks to meet Perry who was flying back from the Bahamas.

 

Marshall’s parents were a little taken aback by the last minute offer to go to college hunting in North Dakota, but they agreed.  College visits were always acceptable for seniors, who were allowed to take a couple days off from school; so school permission was granted.  I’d been to Grand Forks often, but it was only the second visit for Marshall.  The first college related decision we’d have to make was where to live.  We visited Tim in his office and asked him if he thought we’d like living in the dorms.  He thought for a while, got a twinkle in his eye and said, “One of the coed dorms is designated as a quiet dorm.  I think you’d fit in there.  Both Kevin and Noreen are living there this year as freshmen.  I know that Noreen would love a Gang member for a roommate, and I think Kevin would like you, Marshall.  Neither Kevin nor Noreen have a “special friend.”  I’m sure that they’d be open to some trading off if you and Marshall were so inclined.  I assume you are so inclined?”

 

Poor Marshall!  I hadn’t sufficiently warned him about the Gang, Tim, or my special relationship to Tim.  So here he was, unexpectedly meeting with the President of the University, who was suggesting room trading in the dorms.  I thought he’d fall through the floor.

 

Tim caught on and said, “Marshall, you have some legitimate questions to ask Nettie this evening.  I suggest you keep your clothes on for that conversation.”

 

“I..I..I will, sir,” was about all he could get out.

 

I said, “We’ll talk to Kevin and Noreen and see if they’d like new roommates.”  They were wild about the idea and all was settled.

 

Marshall and I were staying at The Hideout (to his parents he was the guest of my friend, Charlie, the Dean of Law–hey, it’s completely true) in separate rooms.  I’d given Marshall the master bedroom, because I knew he would enjoy the shower.  The first night I left him alone, but the second night I came in and said, “I expect you to share that shower.”  He did, and he quickly learned how erotic a well designed shower can be.  I told him to put on pajamas and I did too, and then we talked long into the night about the Gang, and the Gang, and the Gang.  I think it was 4:00 a.m. before he ran out of questions.  We slept together, but that was it.  The next morning we set out to find as many members of the Gang as we could, in order to introduce Marshall.  I particularly wanted to introduce Marshall to all of my fellow COGen. 

 

We dropped by Bernie and Beverly’s house where my parents were staying, and Marshall was in for the biggest shock of the trip.  I decided not to warn him, but I also took pains to introduce “Beverly and her husband, Bernie.” 

 

Bernie and Beverly were used to the utter disbelief on Marshall’s face.  Beverly said, “You’ll get used to it, Marshall.  I just found that teenagers make fabulous lovers so I married one.”

 

Bernie said, “And I found out that there’s nothing to beat experience in bed.  So I married an experienced woman.  And don’t fret, we’re happily married and having a ball.  You should be so lucky.”  Then he looked at me and said, “Well, you are so lucky.”

 

I introduced him to all of the COGen, some of which he’d met on our previous trip.  It gave me a chance to catch up with their lives, and it’ll give  me a chance to catch up Charlie’s readers as well.

 

We started with Milt and Max, and their parents, of course.  I invited them to invite the two of us for lunch, and it was fixed by Milt, who introduced himself as the youngest gourmet chef on the west side of Grand Forks.  He sat us down to grilled cheese sandwiches, made on some kind of special bread with smoked Gouda cheese and some kind of unusual pickles.  With it was some kind of green pasta with an unusual grated cheese sprinkled on it.  We drank apricot juice with it and had blueberry cheesecake for dessert.  Marshall was impressed and loved the meal.  He asked Milt how old he was and how long he’d been cooking this kind of meal.

 

Milt replied, “I’m twelve.  And I almost never cook.  I just decided to show off for Nettie.”

 

Max said, “I’ve never seen him cook anything but a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on white bread.  But when he heard you two were coming he ordered everyone out of the kitchen and fixed lunch.  Mom made the cheesecake yesterday.  The rest is all Milt.”

 

We explored the house, and their rooms and Sid and Cathy’s studio took Marshall’s breath away.  As we drove back to town he asked, “Are all of the kids you’re going to introduce me to like that?  I don’t believe those two.”

 

“Get used to calling them COGen, though everybody else calls them COGs.  As to your question, I’ll have to admit that Max and Milt are not average, but they aren’t the most exceptional, not by a long shot.  You’ll see.”

 

He did see.  Our next stop was the Fred, where we found Brian practicing.  He told us that Shel was expected very soon, as school was just letting out.  He showed off a little for us, and then Shel arrived.  Marshall had met Shel in his bedroom invasion at The Hideout on our previous trip.  This time  Shel had a new trick up his sleeve.  He asked Marshall, “Do you skate?”

 

Everyone from the UP skates, so Marshall said, “Sure.”

 

Shel said, “I’ll get you a pair of skates and we’ll sail around the ice a little.”

 

Marshall was reluctant, but Shel was not to be refused.  As Marshall went off with Shel, I asked Brian, “What does Shel have in mind?”

 

“I have no idea, but he’ll be careful.  I’m sure that Marshall’s in for the skate of his life, but Shel will take care of him.”

 

“How old is Shel now?”

 

“Fourteen.”

 

At that Shel and Marshall came out on the ice.  They skated around the rink a few times, with Shel leading and going faster and faster.  To my surprise, Marshall was keeping up.  Then Shel flipped around and was going backwards as Marshall stayed going forwards.  They talked a little and then Shel slowed a little so that Marshall sort of ran into him, but was lifted up over Shel’s head and slowly rotated.  Shel let him down, let him plant his feet, and then grabbed him under his arms and got him in a spin.  This ended with Shel letting him down on the ice and letting him go so that he slid across the ice toward us.  The whole show was simply crazy, but Shel had been in complete control.

 

Marshall came up and said, “Wow, that kid is something.”

 

“Did you know what was going to happen?”

 

“He explained the whole routine to me in the locker room as we put on our skates.  He told me to just skate and let myself go when I was directed.  You’d told me he was good, so when he said, ‘Trust me,’ I did.”

 

Shel pulled Brian’s sleeve and they headed out on the ice.  I’d seen them skate together before, but Marshall was simply enthralled.  After a few minutes they skated up and stopped right in front of us.  Shel said, “Well, now you’ve met the great Sheldon, the Wonder Skater.  Oh, yes, and his lover, Brian.  We have to get back to practicing.  Glad to have met you, Marshall.  Welcome to Grand Forks and its collection of crazy inhabitants.”  With that he was off, and he and Brian were working on triples.  We watched for a while and then I told Marshall it was time to move on.

 

Marshall told me, “That kid’s wild.  He warned me what was coming, and basically just said hold on tight.  We did practice the lift once.  Then he asked me how old I was.  When I told him I wouldn’t be eighteen until May, he let out a whoop.  He said, ‘I’m fourteen and all the gorgeous guys like Brian are over eighteen and I’m off limits to them.  We didn’t accomplish much last time.   I’d really love to explore you, and be explored by you.  I understand you’re at The Hideout again.  I’ll come by tonight.’  Then he dragged me out onto the ice.”

 

I told Marshall, “He’ll do what he says.  You’ve had fun with Tom and Perry.  And you’ve watched Shel play with me.”

 

“Not really, I was too involved with Perry that night to pay much attention to you and Shel.”

 

“Go ahead and try out Shel.  He’ll be a real hoot.”

 

“You wouldn’t mind?”

 

“Mind?  Hell, no.  It’ll be great entertainment.”

 

“You can’t watch.  You’re past your eighteenth birthday.”

 

“You mention that tonight, and your goose is cooked, buddy.”

 

“My lips are sealed.  Now, who’s next.  Are we playing, ‘Can You Top This?’”

 

Next up were Peg and Bert, whom we found at Peg’s house sitting in the kitchen drinking root beer floats with Peg’s sister Noreen.  We chatted for a while, so that Marshall could get to know them.  I, of course, wanted to know about any romantic interest in Noreen’s life (none at present).  That led to Peg telling us that she and Bert were in love with each other.  That didn’t surprise me.  I’d watched them together on our Grand Adventure (Episode 142, for those who’d like a refresher).  Even though they didn’t remain a pair after the trip, their getting back together didn’t surprise me, or disappoint me.  They were right for each other.  Bert had one more year of high school, and then was headed to college.  Peg was a year behind him, but hoped to get early admission and join him.  They were thinking about Beloit College. They asked Marshall the same list of questions that he’d gotten from most of the Gang, and he patiently answered them.  Later, he told me that I should’ve told him to have an FAQ sheet prepared for the trip. 

 

I’d asked Bert if he had any idea where I might find Willie.  His answer was, “Wherever Hardie is.”

 

“That’s helpful.  Where’s Hardie likely to be?”

 

“Either diving, at The Hideout, or The Lighthouse.”

 

“What are Hardie and Willie doing these days?”

 

“Taking it easy.  A well-deserved rest.  For about ten years they went full steam ahead with school and diving.  I mean almost as intense as Tim.  Every minute of virtually every day.  Then they announced their retirement, and haven’t done much of anything since.  They still dive a lot.  To be fair, I think they’re really trying to figure out the rest of their lives.  And, they have a number of endorsement contracts that take them out of town.  You’ve seen Willie on TV, I’m sure, and Hardie is often included.  Willie knows that his retirement is going to bring that source of income to an end, so he’s making hay while the sun shines.”

 

“Where are they living?”

 

“They’re both at The Lighthouse.”

 

“Does Willie have a girl yet?”

 

“A girl?  I don’t think so.  Many girls, absolutely.  We’re waiting for him to find the right one.”

 

We headed over to The Hideout, figuring that we’d find one or more of the COGen there.  I was right.  Cam, Bud, Kay and Jennie were all there, sitting in the kitchen drinking Cokes.  I introduced Marshall, and we were invited to join them.  We got Cokes out of the refrigerator, and Kay suggested that we all go into the living room, which was more comfortable for six people.  Kay and Cam sat very close to each other on the couch.  I asked, “Are you two now a couple.”

 

“Damn right,” answered Cam.  “We haven’t got our entire future mapped out, but we’re certainly thinking that whatever the route, we’ll travel it together.”

 

Marshall looked at me and said, “And to think that some people in Ironwood are thinking that we’re too young to be talking about getting married.  These two are a year younger.”  He turned to Cam and Kay, “How long have you two been an item?”

 

Cam turned to Kay and asked, “When did we take the Grand Adventure?  At the end of 7^th grade?”

 

“Yes.  And we’ve been, as you say, at item, since then.”

 

Marshall asked, “What was the Grand Adventure?”

 

Nettie said, “I’ve told you about my trip west in a Greyhound bus.  That was the Grand Adventure.  Cam and Kay were along.”

 

Marshall asked, “Who was your boyfriend on that trip?”

 

“You would ask.  It was Bud.”  She looked at Bud and said, “But he’s a complete computer nerd; I decided that I didn’t want to play second fiddle to a computer.”

 

Bud said, “I guess I’ll have to admit the truth of that.  That was a fun summer, but we’ve both gone our own ways since then.  You don’t have anything to worry about from me, Marshall.”

 

Marshall squeezed my hand and said, “I’m not worried.  Nettie’s told me she loves me and that’s enough for me.  I’ve always known about her closeness to the COGen; I’m glad to be meeting them.” 

 

“COGen? exclaimed several of the COGen.”

 

Then Bud said, “Yeah, Nettie’s always insisted that the plural of COG is COGen.  Now she’s infected Marshall.  You need to know, Marshall, that everybody else in the world thinks the plural of COG is COGs.”

 

“I know.  But the right political move for me is to stick with COGen.”

 

“You can bet on that,” I told Marshall.

 

I asked, “Who’s home at The Lighthouse and The Roundhouse?”

 

“This time of day?  Not many.  Willie, Hardie and Connie at The Lighthouse.  Fyn and Murray are almost certainly around, either working inside at The Roundhouse or somewhere on the grounds.”

 

We headed for The Lighthouse, hoping to at least find Willie.  He was there, as well as Hardie and Connie.  I knew Willie better than any of the other COGs because of his staying in Michigan, and, of course, I knew Hardie almost as well.  I don’t think that even once during their stay in Michigan did I spend time with one except in the company of the other.  I was delighted with the opportunity to introduce them to Marshall, along with Connie, whom I didn’t know as well, but who was part of the big group in Atlanta along with me.

 

I was really proud of Marshall, not just with Willie, but with all of the Gang that he met.  The Gang had some really famous people, and among the COGen Willie was foremost.  Marshall handled himself well.  He struck a perfect balance of being intrigued by fame and enjoying the company of a truly interesting person.  Willie insisted that we stay to dinner at The Lighthouse, and we agreed.  He said, “It’s Hardie’s and Connie’s night to cook so the food will be good and there’ll be enough of it.  I’ll head into the dining room and add two places to the table.”

 

“You sure?”

 

“You don’t ask that in the Gang, remember?”

 

“Right, but give me a break, I live in Michigan.”

 

“Just this once.”

 

Marshall asked, “What was that all about?”

 

“It’s a rule in the Gang that you never issue an invitation you don’t mean, and you never question any invitation.  My asking if he was sure was a faux pas amongst the Gang.”

 

“This is going to take some getting used to.  How many other rules like that are there?”

 

“We don’t think of them as rules, and we don’t catalog them.  You’ll figure them out, and until you do everyone will be very forgiving.  That’s a rule.”

 

We all chuckled over that.  I asked Willie, “So how soon do we eat?”

 

“It’ll be an hour, at least, till everyone manages to get home.”

 

“Marshall and I are going to go over to The Roundhouse.”

 

“Let’s say, be back in an hour and a half; then we’ll eat.”

 

I need to step back from the narrative a minute and warn you of something in regard to The Roundhouse.  This has been a tremendously complex story for Charlie to put together.  The Gang is just too big for a story like this.  And Charlie has missed a couple of things along the way.  Events in the lives of the Circle fall in that category.  So don’t be surprised if my introductions to Marshall over in The Roundhouse also catch you up on events in the lives of the Circle.

 

We headed over to the Roundhouse, via the backyards.  There was snow on the ground, so Marshall couldn’t see the landscaping, but I walked him through the evergreens that gave seclusion to the tennis court and the garden, and assured him that someday I wanted to be fucked in the middle of that garden.  By now Marshall was getting used to us, and he didn’t even blink at that suggestion: “OK, how about right now, in the snow?”  He started to unbuckle his pants.  He moved quickly and he had his fly open by the time I told him to buckle up--I was afraid to call his bluff.  He said, “Gotcha,” and let me get a peek at a very hard dick before he pulled himself back together.  Marshall would definitely fit into the Gang.

 

By this time all the Circle was home at The Roundhouse.  I knew the two Ironwood refugees, Toppy and Murray, better than the rest.  But don’t be fooled by the Ironwood connection; Mom was pregnant with me when Toppy and Murray came to live with my folks their senior year of high school.  However, they had kept in close touch with my folks over the yaers.  We found them in the kitchen and I introduced them to Marshall.  Toppy was now a professional musician, putting together a full time job from many bits and pieces.  He had private pupils, conducted a community band in Grand Forks, composed a few band pieces, and was adjunct faculty at UND, co-teaching band direction and coaching marching for the university marching band.  It didn’t make him a lot of money, but the entire Circle agreed that the goal of employment was fulfillment not enrichment.  Al and Alex came in, were introduced, and they briefly explained their work at the university in creating a fully accessible campus.  Alex dryly commented, “It’s been tough, but we finally think we have a breakthrough–the university now seems willing to allow lovers to matriculate.”

 

Al continued, “Yeah, we’ve added more park benches, added bicycles-built-for-two to the campus fleet, put couches in the music practice rooms, and at least two double-wide seats in each classroom.  You guys will be welcome and accommodated as never before.”

 

As Marshall giggled at that, I pulled him out to the kitchen to see who was cooking dinner at The Roundhouse.  It was Nate and Pat.  Marshall knew who they were immediately.  “Nate, as in Nate Hallan, Jumper’s quarterback?”

 

Nate said, “My God, someone who remembers me.”

 

Marshall said, “Sorry, I don’t actually remember you; I was in preschool when you graduated.  But I’ve read about THE STREAKS, and you were Jumper’s first quarterback with the Fighting Sioux.  And you must be Pat Sturgis, Jumper’s key safety.  Boy am I pleased to meet you two.”

 

Everybody in the room was completely silent.  It’s been a dozen years since Nate and Pat played college football, and this kid not only knew who they were, but what and when they’d played.  Nate recovered first and said, “Holy cow, Pat, we’re back in the limelight.  Marshall, you’ve made friends for life.”  He grabbed Marshall and kissed him on the cheek, continuing, “I assume that since you’re here with Nettie that that’s OK.”

 

Marshall picked up on the situation really quickly and said, “I won’t  wash my face for at least a month.”

 

We all laughed, and the three boys started talking football a mile a minute.  Toppy came over to me and asked, “Did you put him up to that?  How else did a Yooper ever happen to read about Jumper’s streak?”

 

“It might’ve been fun to set that up, but believe me I didn’t.  I only vaguely know about Jumper and his football heroics.  And I didn’t really think Marshall was that much of a football fan.”

 

Marshall told me later, “I’m not that much of a football fan, but I’ve learned that to get along in the male world, one needs to be able to talk football.  But in this case, I’ve been reading about the University of North Dakota, and believe me, every major story about UND talks about Jumper and THE STREAK.”

 

Before we move on, I should note that Arnie told us that he was still a  store manager for Fred’s Sports.  He was based in Grand Forks, but from time to time was dispatched to troubled stores as temporary manager.  Pat had worked on the super collider until the contract was complete.  He was kept on at the IAP in various managerial tasks, and was frequently shared with the super collider staff. 

 

That left Margie, Arnie, Fyn and the girls, Natalie and Jocey.  They lived in the suite of rooms originally designed by Carl for precisely this family of five.  Natalie was now seven and her sister, Jocey, was five.  The trio had tried for about six years to get Margie pregnant and had finally met with success in 1989.  Natalie was born on December first of that year, and Jocey came along just over two years later, on January 12, 1992.  They had no idea whether Arnie or Fyn was the father, and claimed that they couldn’t exclude the possibility that any of the Circle might be a father.  All the men in the girl’s life were called Uncle, except that Arnie was Daddy.  The ninesies living arrangement of the Circle did two things for the girls: First, in insured that they were thoroughly loved and completely spoiled.  Second, they related extensively with adults–though they tried to have them play with contemporaries a lot–and thus were incredibly mature.

 

It was time to head back to The Lighthouse and find out what Hardie and Connie had cooked for dinner.  It was a huge hamburger and pasta casserole, with a lot of extras: sauce, vegetables, nuts, raisons–I’m not sure what all.  There was enough to feed an army, and sure enough an army arrived and, with our help, ate it all.  The Lighthouse gang were as interesting as the Circle, and Marshall met them all–that included Nels and Mary, both Cavers and UND students.  Nels was another superachieving COG and Marshall continued to be impressed and awed by the Gang and COGen.

 

We headed back to The Hideout about 9:30 and found Shel patiently waiting in the living room, reading a skating magazine.  “How long have you been here?”

 

“About a half hour.  I knew you were next door, but I decided to let you enjoy your time with the Cavers and all.  Now it’s my turn.”

 

“Shel, just what do you have in mind?”

 

“Sex, girlie.  And with this luscious hunk, not you.  But you can watch.  We’ll even let you join in if you want.”  I know, that sounds incredibly chauvinistic and rude, but Shel could make it sound cute. 

 

I turned to Marshall, “Do you think you can handle this kid?  He’s awful young.”  I’d stuck the knife in Shel’s ribs, now I twisted it.  “Do you think a little kid like this could possibly have a big enough dick to interest you?”

 

Marshall took his cue.  “Grab him and let’s take a look.”  With that Marshall did grab Shel, wiggled him around in a bear hug from behind and told me to pull down his pants.

 

Shel could easily have prevented me, and for that matter could have avoided Marshall’s grab, but that wasn’t the point.  I pulled down his pants and then his underpants.  ‘Shel had a very reasonably sized dick, but neither Marshall nor I let on.  Marshall said, “I don’t think that that’s worth bothering about.  Would you be interested, Nettie?”

 

“I doubt it.”

 

Shel protested, “I’ll bet it’s as big as yours, Marshall.”

 

I said, “We’ll let’s see.  Just what are you proposing to bet, Shel?”

 

“If my dick is as big as Marshall’s then he does whatever I ask of him–all night.  If it isn’t, I do whatever he asks of me.  You can be the judge.”

 

I looked as Marshall and asked, “Is it a bet?”  Marshall knew how big his dick was, and so did I.  But the remarkable thing was, it was very close in size to Shel’s, and neither of us could be sure of the result.  I added, “It’ll be fun to measure you both.”  But I added for Marshall, “We’ll both love you if you decide not to bet.”

 

Marshall replied, “It’s a bet.”

 

I said, “OK, we’re going upstairs to the master bedroom.  Bring your shoes and pants, Shel.  Then both of you get naked.  Then I’ll tickle both of you till you’re as hard as I think you’re going to get and I’ll measure your dicks along the top, from the base to the tip.  Shel proposed the bet, so he gets measured first.”

 

He was 4 and 7/8 inches long.  Marshall was 5 and 1/16 inches long.  Marshall looked at Shel and then at me.  What shall we do with him?”

 

Shel said, “You, not both of you.”

 

Marshall said, “You said, ‘Whatever I ask of you.’  I’m asking you to obey all of the orders of both me and Nettie.  Now do some jumping jacks; I want to see your dick flop around.”

 

We teased Shel with stuff like that for about a half hour.  Then Marshall’s “asking” started getting sexual, and Shel was taken through everything that Marshall could think of, ending with telling Shel to rim us both and see how far inside us he could get his tongue.  I thought that was going pretty far, and was about to tell Marshall that when Shel pushed Marshall’s legs up in the air and quite enthusiastically shoved his mouth into Marshall’s crack.  In a while he did the same to me.  Honestly, I’d never had that experience before, and I’ll have to admit it felt great.

 

Nobody had had an orgasm.  Marshall settled that by fucking Shel doggie style and reaching around and bringing him with his hand for close to simultaneous orgasms.  The he told Shel to play with my ass while he used his tongue on my clit.  Wow, that was quick.  We showered and slept in the big king bed.  The next morning Shel asked if he could fuck Marshall and was told he could.  When he finished he thanked Marshall and ended with, “Especially for last night.  That was really neat.  And don’t worry, you didn’t push me into anything I haven’t done with Auggie.”

 

We walked over to the Carson house where Bob lived with his parents as he finished UND–it was his senior year.  Jude, to whom he’d been engaged for some time, was joining us there for lunch.  As we walked I said to Marshall, “Last night you made Shel do a lot of things that you’ve never done yourself, Marshall.”

 

“That’s true, I haven’t done all of that, just dreamed.”

 

“But you were willing to ask Shel to do them?”

 

“I didn’t push him beyond his comfort zone.  He was having a ball.”

 

“Yes, he was.  But making him rim me?  Wasn’t that pushing it?”

 

“I didn’t make him.  If he hadn’t gone for you enthusiastically, I would’ve backed off.  He loved it all.”

 

“I’ll admit it felt good; would you do that for me?”

 

“I’d do anything for you that makes you feel good.  We can explore everything.”

 

“I’m not sure I could do that for you,”

 

“We’ll explore.  If I wouldn’t push Shel past his comfort zone, I sure wouldn’t push you past yours.”

 

“Thank you, Marshall.  I love you.”

 

“I love you, too.”

 

We had a very nice lunch at the Carsons, and Marshall got to meet Bob and his fiancée, Jude.  Jude was clearly in love, both with Bob and with the idea of getting married.  She told us of their plans for a summer marriage, encouraging us to be sure and come to the wedding.  Marshall was excited to get to know Billy up close and personal.  As I watched Marshall I realized that he was still in awe of the company I kept–we seemed to move from one extraordinary person to the next.  Now here he was with Billy Carson, Olympic gold medalist, and along with Tim and Greg Louganis often called one of the three best divers in history.  Marshall would tell me later that the most extraordinary thing about Billy, Tim, and others in the Gang was that they didn’t act like there was anything extraordinary about them.  They were regular, down to earth people.

 

We were invited to dinner with the foursome, which, if you now counted the children was an octet.  That night Jim and Andy’s parents were invited, and all four of them came.  To complete the group, Shel had invited Brian and Cam had invited Kay.  I was delighted to expose Marshall to this group–it encompassed almost the fullest extent of the relationships within the Gang.  All three generations got along well; in this group they were open about the fourway relationship of Jim, Andy, Kara, and Amy; the four children were, typical of COGen, quite amazing; and Marshall basically sat there and soaked it all up.  Later he told me that he would’ve given anything to have grown up in that loving and accepting atmosphere.  “Nettie, your family’s great, but that bunch is beyond most people’s imagination.”

 

Of course, Marshall had already met Shel (had he ever!) and Cam.  At dinner he met Gary and Louise.  When he was introduced to Louise, she smiled sweetly and then rocked him with, “I hear that you, Shel and Nettie had quite a night last night.  Are you going to stay here tonight?”

 

I saved him from having to respond to that by telling Louise that we’d be at the Hideout again that night and would be leaving the next morning.  We had to get back to Ironwood and school. 

 

As we walked home Marshall asked, “Tell me a little more about Gary and Louise.  They seemed very nice, and spoke well of their experiences at college.  But they don’t seem to be the completely off the wall extraordinary people that some of the COGen are.”

 

“They’re both smart as whips–top of their class in high school and certain to be summa cum laude at UND.  They enter into everything at college, but they’ve never been in a position to get the public attention that some of the GOGen have achieved.  Don’t underestimate either of them.”

 

“Well, Shel is so completely mind-boggling that he carries the whole family.  It’s interesting, the two youngest siblings, Cam and Shel, are madly in love and virtually engaged, but the older ones are unattached.”

 

“You can’t explain love.  But I can tell you that both Cam and Shel are completely in love, and I assure you it will last.”

 

“So will ours,” said Marshall.

 

“Oh, Marshall, I know it will.”

 

We had only missed one of the COGen, Junior.  Junior had turned out to be the first COG not to attend UND.  He wanted to play college baseball, and chose Arizona State.  He was offered a full scholarship to play baseball, but he declined, adopting Tim’s attitude that kids that accept athletic scholarship become poorly paid professionals.  He still played baseball, and was, in fact, their star pitcher as a sophomore.  Having not accepted the scholarship, and being the best pitcher available, he was able to set his own terms.  Since he was a real team player, Junior didn’t behave any differently without a scholarship than with one, but it was the principle of the thing.  The coach didn’t really understand Junior’s point, but was glad to have him on any terms.  He did arrange an out-of-state tuition waiver, for which Junior didn’t have to make any athletic commitment.  Junior’s coach had told him that he could be thinking about major league baseball if he was interested.  I had no idea how Junior would respond to that.

 

And so Marshall had met the COGen (except Junior) and much of the Gang.  He’d survived.  Well, he’d much more than survived; he’d thrived.  As the few days we had there passed, any number of people gave me a thumbs up regarding Marshall, or whispered in my ear something like, “You got a winner,” or “Don’t lose him.”  I sure as Hell wasn’t planning to.

 

A footnote: When I finished writing this episode I showed it to Charlie.  He said he loved it, but I asked him if he thought there was too much sex.  “It almost makes Marshall and me appear as oversexed teens.”

 

“Aren’t you?”

 

“Well, I guess we are; it’s fun.  But there’s a lot more to us than our libidos.”

 

“I know that, and I think that comes through to your readers.”

 

“Isn’t this episode a lot heavier on the sex stories than most?”

 

“I suppose so.  Some of our readers will say, ‘Great.’  Others may skip over a little.  But I loved the stories.  They’re true and they only fit here.  You told them well.  Don’t worry about it.  And don’t think about removing them.  I’m still laughing about Farther, well more than laughing.”

 

Well, I did think about it, but I took Charlie’s advice and left them in.  Maybe some of you readers will get some new ideas.  Try playing Farther at your next party!

 

To be continued...

 

Posted: 05/27/11