Finding Tim
A Fourth Alternate Reality

 by: Charlie

© 2005-2014

 

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Episode 198
Falla 

 

This is still Tim writing, and the dinner was definitely on for the next night.  Kay and Cam went by Jerry’s to pick up a pile of pork ribs that would serve an army along with a couple of vegetable dishes.  They got more cookies at a grocery store and headed to The Hideout where Kevin and Noreen were ready with the table set for nine.  They spent a couple of minutes agreeing on who would tell their story, and then Carle and Allen arrived, followed shortly by Roger, Mitch, and Grant.  Grant seemed a little uncomfortable.  Roger and Mitch understood that and had assured him that he had nothing to fear from this group.  He’d been reassured by the fact that it’d been Tim that suggested that he be included, but that still didn’t eliminate his uneasiness.  Kay picked it up and determined that she would make sure he felt comfortable in the group.

 

The ribs were hot, and Cam urged them to dig in before things, especially the veggies, got cold.  Coffee, tea and soft drinks were in the kitchen and they were told to help themselves.  As soon as all were seated Cam announced, “OK, we’re going to start the storytelling immediately, or we’ll run out of time.  In fact, I suspect we have some long stories here, and they’re going to run on to another evening as it is.  I’ll begin.  The story of Kevin, Kay, Noreen, me, and a whole bunch of others begins before we were born–at a summer camp in the Michigan Upper Peninsula.”

 

I’m not going to repeat the story.  Cam left out a lot of the details–many of which, from the time before he was born–he didn’t know.  But he knew the important things, and he didn’t pull any punches about trios, foursomes, sex play, sexuality, and all of the rest.  Just as he reached the end he said, “OK, I asked to hear how you all learned to masturbate.  So I’ll have to tell you about myself, and then Kay, Kevin, and Noreen can tell their stories.

 

“I had a brother, Gary, and a sister, Louise, who were three years older than me.  Our biological relationship was uncertain, but as far as we were concerned we were brothers and sisters.  Sexuality was never hidden in the house, and Gary and Louise started including me in their sex play when I was about ten.  About then Andy and Kara sat the two of them down for a little talk about the birds and the bees, except that it was specifically about ejaculation and masturbation.  That night they both tried it, successfully, and the next night were very excited to show me.  Well, obviously there was a lot more for Gary to show than Louise, but it didn’t matter.  It wasn’t long before they masturbated each other, and then I masturbated them.  Soon after that they worked on me, and I guess I had what we called dry orgasms for a while.  But by age twelve I could spurt cum as well as Gary.  Shel, damn him, shot his first load when he was just past his eleventh birthday.  As we found other partners, including other COGs, sibling sex dwindled, but it’s never completely ended.”

 

Kevin told his story.  “Kay and I had much less sibling sex.  Generally, it only occurred in a larger group of COGs when we both happened to be present.  You know, we’re sitting here in The Hideout.  This was sometimes quite a bawdy house for the COGs.  I don’t think we were excessively sexual, but there wasn’t much that wasn’t tried.  How did I learn to masturbate?  Simple, I’d seen older COGs do it, and I went home and tried.  Somewhere around age twelve it worked.  I don’t know exactly when.”

 

Kay said, “My mom, Sharon, knew that I needed to be prepared for my first period, and she took the occasion of that lesson to talk about sexual maturity and masturbation.  Girls don’t have the big event of the first ejaculation that boys do, but I learned that rubbing myself felt mighty good very early, and experienced orgasms not long after my first period.”

 

Noreen’s story:  “Kevin could’ve told this story, but he’s left it for me.  We’re almost the same age, born only a couple of weeks apart.  As kids we were pretty close, and when Kevin was successful at jacking off, he bragged to me.  I got him to let me do it to him, and then he did it to me.  My first orgasm was with Kevin rubbing my clitoris.”

 

By now Grant was looking very uncomfortable.  He said, “I’ve never been in a group, as a kid, as a teenager, as a college student, or as an adult that was this frank about sex.  You all have shared things that nobody else ever shares.  I can’t believe it.  It guess it’s a compliment that I’ve been included.  I honestly can’t say that I’m going to be up to sharing at the same level.”

 

Cam said, “A rule of the Gang is that we don’t make people uncomfortable.  Nobody’s going to push.  Now, since Allen is the oldest of the rest of you, excluding you, Grant, we’re going to let him go next.”

 

Allen’s story was much more complex than any of us had expected.  I’ll let him tell it in his own words:

 

I grew up in Dayton and when I was five years old we moved to a new subdivision on the outskirts of the city.  Technically we were in the suburb of Clayton in the Northmont School District.  I would attend Englewood Elementary School and Northmont Middle and High Schools.

 

Our subdivision was called Falla Woods.  Falla was an old name for the woods that had once been where our houses stood.  However, about half the woods had been saved and it surrounded the thirty-five houses of the subdivision.  There was only one road in, so there was no through traffic.  Even so, there were sidewalks, and quite a few trees had been saved around the houses when the woods had been cut.  It was a perfect place to raise children, which is why my parents moved there, even though it was more house than they should’ve bought for their incomes as school teachers.

 

But the joys of Falla Woods were vastly more than the physical environment.  Falla Woods fast became a true community.  Virtually everyone had children, ranging from birth through high school, but the biggest groups were elementary school kids.  For some reason, and the only explanation I’ve ever heard was pure randomness, there were quite a few more boys than girls, at least in the ages near me.  As I moved in two boys from up the block stood and watched the moving van unload.  I said, “Hi.”

 

They said, “Hi,” and my mom invited them in for lemonade.  At lunchtime Mom and I walked home with Pat and Len–we now had learned their names–and met their mother.  We were all immediately fast friends, and I had two wonderful playmates.

 

The kids from Falla Woods made a rather exclusive group at Englewood Elementary.  They filled over half of the school bus that made two stops every morning and afternoon in the community.  Our parents urged us to make friends on the bus and at school with kids from “outside,” but you can probably guess from my use of that term that we weren’t very successful with that effort.  I will say, however, that I was never aware of any hostility or antagonism toward other kids.  We Falla Woods kids were just sort of self-sufficient.

 

Soon after the subdivision became fully occupied a backyard conversation took place that really changed things–for the better.  I was too young for it to have a direct effect on me, but it did as I grew older.  Jim Hawkins and his next door neighbor, Phil Roberts, got to talking as they were doing yard work one spring.  They each had fifteen-year-old sons who would soon be learning to drive.  Jim and Phil weren’t concerned about the driving–they had confidence in their sons.  They were, however, worried about the combination of drinking and driving.  They were well aware that in America teen­age drinking was extremely common; they didn’t think their sons were drinking yet, but assumed that they wouldn’t finish high school as teetotalers.  How to reconcile that with the fact that they would soon be drivers?

 

The two men believed–well, they admitted that it was more hope than belief–that their sons would listen to their parents regarding the dangers of mixing drinking and driving.  But they felt that the matter could be better dealt with as a community than as individual parents.  So they compiled a list of all of the families with high school students living in Falla Woods.  Sixteen of the thirty-five homes had high schoolers.  Either Phil or Jim talked with each family, shared their concerns, and invited them to a meeting at Phil’s house to discuss the issues involved.

 

The fact that virtually all of the parents showed up made it clear that this was a concern of the entire community.  All kinds of comments were made, and all were respected.  Except that all assurances that “my son” or “my daughter” certainly wouldn’t, or doesn’t, drink and drive, were met with skepticism.  Everybody had to admit that they really weren’t sure of their kids behavior.

 

Another interesting thought seemed to get general agreement. That is, that the drinking laws that made all drinking for teenagers illegal were part of the problem.  As one put it, “If all drinking is illegal, then how do you teach responsible drinking?”  Ohio did allow parents to serve alcohol to their child­ren, but not to their children’s friends.  They somebody tossed out the idea that ultimately changed the community.  “You know, you don’t have to drive to get to any house in this subdivision.  If all the drinking were inside this subdivision, then there wouldn’t have to be drinking and driving.”  Nothing was settled, but the group of parents agreed to meet again–soon–to talk some more, and perhaps to make some specific suggestions.

 

Jim and Phil met the next night and talked about the meeting.  After some discussion they agreed:  (1) There was no way they were going to eliminate teenage drinking for the kids in Falla Woods.  (2) That was admitting that their teenagers were going to be breaking the drinking laws of Ohio.  (3) Given those two facts, perhaps the best way to control the drinking, and therefore the drinking and driving, was to contain the drinking within Falla Woods.  (4) That meant that some parents, or all parents, were going to be hosts to illegal, but controlled and responsible drinking.  (5) This had to be combined with serious control of cars and driving.

 

Jim and Phil talked about having party houses, but they didn’t like the implications of the word party.  Rather, they decided that the community needed teen gathering places–every Friday and Saturday night.  And more nights during vacations.  Rules were developed over time, but the key rule was that you had to walk to the gathering and walk home.  Once at a gathering, you couldn’t drive for the rest of the night, unless you were a designated driver.  DDs got a red wrist band and couldn’t drink.  All the teenagers had to agree to enforce the “No drinks for the DD” rule.  That way a boy or girl could bring a date from school, but if picking the date up meant driving, you had to have a red wrist band.  Rules about noise, the amount of beer and wine allowed, and all sorts of things were agreed over time between parents and teens.  And each year a new group of high school kids was initiated into the rules of Falla Woods Gatherings.

 

And it worked.  Kids in Falla Woods really didn’t drink and drive.  And they didn’t drink as much as a lot of their contemporaries in high school did, because it wasn’t such a forbidden fruit.  What about the police?  Well, a local police officer lived in the community and knew full well what was going on–though his kids were still very young.  He simply said, “If we have no reason to go into a house–no loud noise, no kids roaming around the lawn, no kids erratically driving away–then nobody’s going to get in trouble.  We can’t enter a house without probable cause.  Well behaved kids don’t provide probable cause.” 

 

The physically isolated community, along with the success of the Gatherings, made for a very close-knit community that got along amazingly well.  And that fact led to another conversation in the community that led to what I think is an even more amazing tradition.  It started as a conversation between Jim Hawkins and his son Dave, the older of two boys.  Jim realized that he’d probably failed his son by not providing sex education when it was needed, but he nevertheless thought that it was never too late to start.  Dave was coming to the end of his junior year of high school when Jim started.

 

He began with a simple confession that he’d been too embarrassed to talk about things that should’ve been talked about.  Could he and Dave try to get over the barrier between them on the subject of sex.  Dave was willing, and over a period of a few weeks Jim learned that his son was pretty well-educated about things sexual, and was involved in things sexual, and was probably mature enough that his father accepted his assurances that little Hawkins were not in the making.  Somehow they got on the subject of masturbation.  Jim asked Dave when and how he’d learned to masturbate.  The answer was, of course, from other boys at school.  In Dave’s case it was at the end of eighth grade, at age fourteen.  Dave added, “I was really horny in eighth grade; I wish I’d known about jacking off sooner.”

 

That evening Jim thought about that and realized that even if he’d talked to Dave earlier and more responsibly about sex, he probably would never have dealt with the subject of masturbation.  Yet that was the one thing that Dave indicated he’d wished he’d known about earlier.  And Dave’s brother, Jerry, was in seventh grade, going into eighth grade in the fall.

 

He went back to Dave and asked, “You said you learned to masturbate from other kids at school.  Did they show you?  Help you?  What?”

 

“No, they talked about it.  I asked a few questions and got some good answers and some silly ones.  I tried it at home in bed, and eventually I ejaculated.  It’s not like learning to ride a bike.  One try and you’ve got it.  Practice isn’t really required.”

 

“Did you ever jack off with any other boys?”

 

“Every now and then somebody would talk about a circle jerk, but I think I was only in one once.  Doing it with boys didn’t turn me on.  Girls, that’s another matter.”

 

“I’m not sure I want a lot of details here.”

 

“I’m not sure I want to share a lot of details.”

 

“We’ll leave it at that.”

 

Jim got to wondering, “In the best of worlds how should a young boy learn to masturbate, and when?”  He realized there were no simple answers to that.  Jim found that there were a few books for young teens that dealt with the subject, but they were more along the line of eliminating guilt than teaching how.  He thought, “The kid might be guilt free, but just how does he learn?”  His answer was, “Very likely in a not very wholesome setting with other boys, or on the basis of a not very wholesome, or informed, conver­sation with other boys.”  And Jerry was going to be in eighth grade.

 

Jim got up his nerve and talked with the fathers of two of Jerry’s seventh grade friends in the neighborhood.  Neither had even thought about their sons and masturbation, and were kind of surprised that Jim had brought up the subject.  Nothing came of the conversation, or so Jim thought.  But a week or so later one of the fathers, Nate Henson, met Jim in his front yard and asked if they could talk.  He’d been thinking about his son and masturbation and had decided that it shouldn’t be a topic that was simply ignored, but his thinking hadn’t gotten beyond that.  Jim admitted that his hadn’t either.  In their con­ver­sation they concluded two things.  First, for many kids talking wasn’t enough.  It was reasonable that they should be shown or helped.  Second, while talking was always appropriate between fathers and sons, they weren’t comfortable with fathers showing or helping–physical contact seemed to be out of bounds.

 

They shared their thinking with Jacob Riser, the father of another seventh grader in the neighborhood, who admitted that he’d been thinking about the same subject–his seventh grader was his oldest child.  He said, “Ideally, a sympathetic eighth grader will teach my son, Jake, to masturbate.  Could we facilitate that?”

 

Wow.  Where was this going?  The three talked and decided that they ought to add the father of an eighth grader to the conversation.  They approached another neighbor, Dan, father of the requisite eighth grader, and shared the entire conversation with him.  His response was, “You guys are way ahead of me.  I don’t have the slightest idea whether my son knows how to masturbate.  I’d be too embarrassed to ask him.”

 

Jim said, “We share your feelings.  It’s a tough subject.  I have an idea.  What if I asked my son Dave, a junior, to talk to your son Abe and simply ask him about masturbation, did he do it, how did he learn?”

 

Abe’s father said, “OK, but he’d better talk about jacking off; I’m not sure he knows what masturbation is.”

 

Jim said, “That’s the point; we don’t have any idea what our kids know, and we should.”

 

So Dave was enlisted to have a conversation with Abe.  He knew Abe because all the boys in Falla Woods knew each other, but they weren’t friends–there was too much of an age difference.  But Dave sat with Abe on the school bus soon after (middle school and high school kids rode the same bus), and he asked Abe if they could talk as they walked to their houses which weren’t far apart.  Dave invited Abe in for a root beer, and Abe was pleased to be invited by the much older boy.  Dave was completely honest with Abe, “Look, Abe, I’ve been asked by my dad and your dad to ask you a couple of questions that they’re too embarrassed to ask.  So here goes.  Do you know what masturbation is?”

 

“Sure.”

 

“Do you masturbate?”

 

“Are you going to tell my father that I masturbate?  I don’t know what he’d think.”

 

“What do you think he’d think if he knew you masturbated?”

 

“I think he’d be upset.”

 

“I’ve talked to him, and I’m quite sure he wouldn’t be upset.  But he’s afraid you’d think that, and thus would be afraid to answer truthfully whether or not you masturbated.”

 

“This is getting complicated.  Sure, I jack off.”

 

“How did you learn?”

 

“It was last year when I was in seventh grade.  Several boys pulled me into the bushes at school, pantsed me, and jacked me off.”

 

“You were in seventh grade.  Did you come?”

 

“No.  And after a while they gave up and let me go.”

 

“Did you tell anyone.”

 

“Just you, now.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Boys don’t tattle.  They weren’t mean, just being big boys.”

 

“Then you tried it yourself, later?”

 

“It had felt good.  I tried it several times.  It felt good, and finally I came–in the summer before eighth grade.”

 

“Not the best way to learn to masturbate.”

 

“I don’t know.  I don’t know how I would’ve learned if it hadn’t been for those boys.  I’ll be in high school with them next year.  I don’t hold a grudge.  It was just boys growing up.”

 

“I don’t think your principal would see it that way.”

 

“Which is exactly why I didn’t tell my principal, and why I’m not going to tell my principal.  And I’m not going to tell you, Dad, or anyone who the boys were.”

 

Dave ended with, “I’m not going to make a judgement about that.  I’m also not going to report this conversation to your dad.  Can I tell him that he can ask you these questions without being embarrassed, and that you’ll answer honestly.”

 

“Tell him not to ask if he can’t respect my right to keep some things private.”

 

“I’ll tell him.”

 

Dave told Abe’s father, “You can talk to him comfortably.  But you need to start by promising that you’ll keep secret anything that he tells you he wants kept a secret.  If you can’t keep that promise, then don’t have the conver­sation.”

 

Abe’s father approached him at bedtime a day or so later.  He said, “I gather from Dave Hawkins that you know how to masturbate.  I also gather that I shouldn’t ask any questions unless I promise to keep your secrets, no matter what. I promise.  Now can you tell me what you told Dave?”

 

“I guess so.”  And he told his father about how he’d been “taught” to jack off.

 

“And you think that’s just boys being boys, and that you shouldn’t report it?”

 

“That’s what I think.”

 

“I’ll keep my promise.  But let me tell you what my concerns are.  I could talk about being worried that the boys might do something like that to other boys, or something worse.  Or decide to do it to a girl.  It could get out of hand.  But I’m sure that you don’t think that’ll happen.  And since a year’s gone by and nothing seems to have happened, you’re probably right.  But that’s not my worry.  My worry is that you might think it is OK to do that to some other boy.  That boy might be willing to be a tattletale, as you put it, and report what happened.  And you’re quite right that your principal wouldn’t look on the incident in the way that you do.  If you’d gone to the principal those boys might very well have been expelled, or turned over to the police.  The society isn’t as forgiving as you were.  I’m not going to put any pressure on you to tell me who the boys were, or to report the incident.  But you have to promise me that you’d never think of doing anything like that to another boy or girl.”

 

“Oh, Dad.  That’s easy.  It’s one thing to be forgiving.  But I know it was wrong, and I wouldn’t ever do anything like that.”

 

“Have you ever jacked off with another boy?”

 

“Yes.  And I won’t say who.”

 

“Was it your idea or his?”

 

“I can’t remember.  We jacked off together a couple of times in the woods.  Not recently.”

 

“Thanks for being honest with me.  There are a lot of people in this world that think jacking off is evil, sinful, or will hurt you.  Let me assure you that’s bunk.  It’s normal, and virtually all boys do it.  But it’s private.  There wasn’t anything wrong with doing it with a friend, but it’s better if it remains private.”

 

“Dad?”

 

“What?”

 

“Did you masturbate when you were a boy?”

 

“Sure.  And I still do sometimes, particularly if your mother and I are separate for a while.”

 

“Thanks, Dad.”

 

“Good night, Abe.”

 

Dave and the three fathers talked.  Dave said, “OK, we have a very unhealthy act of three boys taking Abe’s pants down and masturbating him.  And we have a perfectly healthy two boys sharing in the woods.  Can Abe, and other boys, distinguish between the two?”

 

Dan, Abe’s father, said, “I’m convinced that Abe can.  He seemed to understand that what was done to him wasn’t right, but he simply is obeying the code that says boys don’t tattle.  I have to respect that.”

 

Jim said, “Don’t be a tattletale is a strong childhood theme.  Teachers say it; parents say it; peers say it.  We don’t really give kids the tools they need to distinguish when to tattle and when not too.  It’s a problem that carries into adulthood.”

 

“So where are we with teaching seventh graders to masturbate?  We obviously don’t grab them, drag them into the woods, depants them, and then jack them off.  But what do we do?  Leave them to their own devices?  Give them a book to read?  What?”

 

Jacob said, “I still think that I’d like Jake to learn to masturbate from a sympathetic boy a little older than he is.”

 

“Like, for example, my son, Abe?”

 

“Like, for example, your son, Abe.”

 

The other fathers agreed.  Jim said, “So how do we make this happen?”

 

Ray, the third of the fathers, suggested, “Maybe we make a video of Abe or someone masturbating and show it to the boys.”

 

Jim said, “Well, first of all, such a film would be child pornography under current law and just having it in you possession, much less making it, could get you years in jail.  We live in a society that is paranoid on the subject of sex.”

 

“What if we got an eighteen-year-old to make the film?”

 

“It would be legal, but it would still be pornography, and such a film lying around could cause real trouble.”

 

Jacob said, “We don’t want video.  We want two humans interacting, teaching and learning.”

 

Jim said, “We need to think about ages here.  We don’t want to put a boy of the age of Dave here into a compromising position with kids a lot younger like Jake and Abe.”

 

Jacob said, “We keep the older kids out.  Jim, Ray and I simply tell our sons that Abe is going to meet with them at his house, and they can trust Abe.”

 

“So just what does Abe do?”

 

“He talks to them about masturbating, takes his clothes off and shows them what he’s talking about.  Then he suggests that they can try while he coaches or at home in bed.  He also explains that their parents know what’s going on and won’t be upset if the boys masturbate or leave cum on the sheets.”

 

“Is Abe going to be comfortable doing that?”

 

“I’ve talked to him and he says he is.”

 

The lesson took place the next Saturday afternoon.  Each of the boys choose to take off their clothes and try it there in Abe’s room.  All were suc­cess­ful.  All ended up with a much more wholesome view of masturbation than many boys acquire.

 

Allen’s story continued by his saying that by the time he got to eighth grade the system had been pretty well codified.  It was organized in the fall by a couple of tenth grade boys, who gathered all of the new eighth graders together for a meeting with a couple of selected ninth graders.  The ninth grade parents had briefed the eighth grade parents, beginning a year ahead, and permissions were in place, and the parents had told their boys that they could trust the older boys who’d be talking to them.  In Allen’s year there were four eighth graders in Falla Woods.  They were divided two by two and put with a ninth grader.  The lesson itself had changed very little over the years, and a new generation of kids learner to masturbate without guilt or frustration.

 

Allen said to the group assembled at The Hideout, “Whew, all that to tell you how I learned to jack off.”

 

“It’s a great story.  So, when did you discover you were gay?”

 

“Not long after that.  And I told my very supportive parents while I was in high school.  I was celibate through high school and college, until Carle and I got together here at UND.  Since this seems to be tell-all, I’ll admit that Carle and I’ve had some good times with the Circle.  And now I guess it’s Carle’s turn.”

 

“That’s the first time that I ever heard about jacking off in Falla Woods.  As for me, I know exactly how I learned to masturbate.  You know that Allen starting teaching me math as a student teacher when I was in ninth grade.  I knew I was gay; I knew that every day I was looking at the most handsome boy in the world.  I’d lay in bed at night and think of him, and I’d finger my genitals.  One night I came in the bed, dreaming of Allen.  I was a little scared at first, but I had the good sense to ask my dad what had happened–he already knew I was gay, and had been supportive.  He chuckled and said, ‘I guess we missed something in your basic sex education.  Don’t worry, it’s normal.  I guess that every night as you think about this sexy teacher of yours and play with yourself that you’ll come like that.  I always just took my undershorts to bed with me and cleaned up using those.  If you jack off at night, you may find it’s easier to get through math class the next day.  You might be even better off if you jacked off in the morning before you got up for school.  I think you can be pretty certain that your teacher, Mr. Kramer, is dreaming of you when he jacks off, morning, evening or both.’”

 

“Both,” interjected Allen.

 

Carle continued, “We’d both been celibate until we started down the road of physical sex our first year together here at UND.  We might not ever have made it down the road without the encouragement and pushing of the Circle.  They were wonderful.  And our sex life till now has been limited to each other and the Circle.  I think we’re about to be pushed into new directions.”

 

Kay said, “You sure are, and don’t you think for one minute that you can claim to be gay in this group and thereby keep my hands off of you.”

 

Kevin said, “Roger, it’s your turn.  You go before Mitch because you’re the scientist of the couple, and the main purpose of all of this is for the scientists and the mathematicians to get to know each other well, along with their partners.”

 

Roger replied, “I’m ready, but I don’t think that you’re going to find my story particularly interesting.”

 

“You’re an interesting guy.  How you came to be the man you are has to be interesting; perhaps not exciting.”

 

Roger’s story:

 

Grand Rapids, Michigan, is a fairly conservative town.  The Reformed Church in America is headquartered there, as is their school, Calvin College.  Their influence has diminished over time, but it still shapes the values of much of the community.  My family were very liberal: politically they were liberal Democrats; religiously they were Unitarians.  I guess you’d say they were freethinkers.  We got along well.  I was an only child, and the three of us had a wonderful relationship, centered around a lot of very intelligent discussion.  My sex education came from my parents: what the schools provided was worthless.  Luckily, my parents stayed ahead of my peers by at least a year or so, so I didn’t pick up a lot of misinformation from them.

 

You specifically wanted to know about masturbation.  We, all three of us, talked about it at least a year before I was able to ejaculate.  The process was explained, and my efforts were rewarded with what my parents called dry orgasms.  They were delighted when one morning at breakfast I was able to report my first ejaculation.  I think it was toward the end of seventh grade.

 

About that time I began to realize that I didn’t have much interest in girls.  We’d talked about homosexuality, and I remember asking my parents how I would know if I were homosexual.  My father said, “You won’t know for sure for some time; your perspective may change over time.  Right now, let’s just assume that you’re a little bit homosexual and probably a little bit heterosexual.  You’re a little young to be fooling around with either boys or girls at school, but clearly your libido is beginning to function well.  Let me think a little about your situation.”

 

His thinking inspired him to bring home a copy of both Playboy and Playgirl magazines.  I’d seen Playboy–some of the boys at school had snuck them to school and shown them off.  Playgirl was something completely new.  Dad told me that there was a lot of pornography out there that would show me a whole lot more, but that these would be fun and sufficient for me to get an idea of what I liked.  Well, I told you he was a freethinker!

 

It didn’t take me long to figure out that I was gay, though I’ll have to admit that I enjoyed looking at Playboy as well as Playgirl.  I was warned that in Grand Rapids I had to be very careful about who knew that I thought I might be gay.  If I were outed (and that term was explained), life could become pretty unpleasant.  This was, after all, only 1990; the world was moving, but Grand Rapids was certainly lagging behind.

 

At about this time I started attending classes at the local community college as well as my middle school.  There was a gay support group, or gay-straight alliance, some such name, on campus and I considered visiting one of their meetings.  I talked with Dad and decided that they simply wouldn’t have known how to deal with a thirteen year old, and besides that might’ve involved being outed.  In my second year on campus I was taking calculus, and became good friends with another boy in the class, Ollie (short for Oliver) Young.  He lived fairly near me and was taking his first two years of college at the community college for financial reasons.  We were attracted to each other because it quickly became clear that we were the smartest students in the class.  He was seventeen and I was fourteen, but we related well, and found we could talk about anything.  Eventually the subject was sex, and he was as confused about his sexuality as I was about mine, but we were both coming to the conclusion that we were gay or at least bi-, which was a new term for me if not a new concept.

 

That led to a difficult conversation with my parents.  I was ready to talk to Ollie about a sexual relationship.  I was on good enough terms with my parents that I was able to ask them about it before I said anything to Ollie–though Ollie had hinted a little to me.  My father told me that if Ollie were a contemporary at my middle school, it’d be fine, but Ollie was four years ahead of me in school, I was a ninth grader regardless of the fact that I was taking college classes.  I was underage, and it was illegal for Ollie to have sexual relationship with me.

 

Smart ass that I was, I pointed out that technically it’d be illegal for me to have sex with one of my ninth grade classmates.  I said that Ollie’d be taking the risk, but that I knew, for certain, that it wouldn’t be a risk, as long as we had a safe place to get together.  My folks and I went back and forth on this for at least a week.  They were very pleased that I’d talked to them before I did anything, but were very uncertain about my being involved with Ollie sexually.  Finally my father said, “Well, I’d like to be able to end this by saying, ‘You’re of age; you have to make your own decision.’  But you’re not of age, so what I’m going to have to say is, ‘You behave as if you were of age; we let you go to college as well as high school; we have to let you make your own decision’.”

 

By this time Ollie was driving me to campus in the morning, saving my mom a trip.  On the way in, I asked Ollie if I’d correctly interpreted some of his comments as meaning he’d like to have sex with me.  He admitted I was right, but he also admitted that on reflection he thought our ages were too far apart.  We went back and forth with the same arguments that I’d had with my parents.  Ollie’s bottom line was the he didn’t want to go through life knowing that his first sex was illicit sex with a boy three or four years younger than he, and I didn’t want to go through life knowing that my first sexual encounter was with a man that much older.  He stuck to his guns, and we never had any physical relationship.  We remained good friends for his two years at the community college, but then he moved on to Ann Arbor and we haven’t kept in touch.

 

My physical sex was limited to my hand on my dick until my senior year of high school.  By then the times were changing, and being in my last year of high school I was less worried about being outed.  Another senior, Tom Lawson, and I became very good friends.  During Christmas vacation I came out to Tom and was rewarded by his admitting that my suspicions about his sexuality were correct.  By New Year’s there wasn’t much that we hadn’t done, in my bedroom, with my parents’ knowledge and encouragement.  Tom wasn’t out, not even to his parents, so we had to keep our relationship very private, which we did.  Tom went to the University of Michigan at Flint, and we haven’t kept in touch.

 

Then I was off to college, found that Mitch was my roommate, and, well, I think you all know the story from there.

 

It was Mitch’s turn, and then Grant’s.  Readers, you’ve read their stories as they told them to each other in Crystal Falls, Manitoba.  You can reread them in Episode 196-Continued.

 

Noreen summed it all up.  “Gee, we all have very interesting, and different, experiences.  However, each of us, in his or her own way, seems to have life experiences that blend well into this grouping.  So where do we go from here?  I’ll tell you.  To the shower–that grand shower that Tim and Char­lie so thoughtfully installed in this house.  Nine is a little crowded, so to begin we’ll stuff the two math geniuses and the three physics geniuses in and let them really get to know each other.  When they get fully steamed–there’s a double meaning intended there–the rest of us will change places with them.  And, let me remind you that there are enough beds in this house for all of us.  But the sleeping will be three by three–no exclusive pairing off, and no trio better contain an existing partnership.”

 

Grant said, “I was warned when I came to this dinner that it’d be at least interesting.  I think maybe ‘other worldly’ might’ve been a better term.  But I’ll have to admit I’m looking forward to it.”

 

While the physicists and mathematicians showered, and from the noise it appeared that they were having a pretty raunchy time, Cam, Noreen, Grant and Mitch sat on the big king-size bed and talked.  Cam asked Grant and Mitch what they thought of the situation they found themselves in.

 

Grant answered, “It’s overwhelming.  It took me a while to come to terms with having sex with Mitch.  But it was to further a professional relation­ship that was budding between us.  This is more recreational.  I guess  I don’t object, I’m sure it’s going to be fun, but is this pushing beyond reasonable boundaries?”

 

Cam said, “Well, you have to answer your own question.  But I think there are two very reasonable answers.  First, the main idea of this gathering was to let the five now in the shower get to know each other in a social or non-professional context.  Excluding the four of us wouldn’t have been fair to any of us.  However, I don’t think we need to put that forward as an excuse.  The Gang’s found that healthy sexual relationships, ones that respect individual boundaries, and also establish group boundaries, are healthy, fun, and enrich our lives. We’ve generally used Gang membership to define the group boundaries, but reasonable exceptions have always been allowed.  In the cases of the five of you present here who aren’t yet members of the Gang, I think the emphasis should be on the word yet.  Clearly it’s time, and I’ll say something to the right people in the Gang and we’ll make that happen.”

 

Noreen said, “I think we ought to think about the groups of three for tonight.  I have a suggestion: Grant, Roger, and Cam; Mitch, Carle, and me; and Kevin, Kay, and Allen.  Grant, I think it’s important for you and Roger to get to know each other better, and I think Mitch, Carle, and Allen need a little heterosexual experience under their belts.”

 

Cam said, “I think they’d better take their belts off!”

 

“Wise ass,” said someone. 

 

That led to some roughhousing, which led to raunchy roughhousing, which was interrupted by the group coming out of the shower and pushing the rest of us in–where they’d left all of the showers running cold!  As he adjusted the temperature, Cam said, “That had to be your idea Kevin.  You’re dead meat.”

 

The group eventually reassembled, dried off, and trioed up as Noreen had suggested.  It wasn’t true that Carle and Allen had never had a straight sexual experience–Margie is part of the Circle and she’d made sure that Carle and Allen admitted to, and experienced, their straight sides.  Mitch had to admit that he’d never had any kind of sexual experience with a girl–except as he’d just showered with Noreen.

 

Noreen asked, “Was that fun?”

 

“Sure.”      

 

“Well, we’re going to have even more fun tonight,” and she took his hand and pulled him out of the room and into a guest room across the hall.  She called to Carle, “Carle, you belong in here too.  We’ll see you all in the morning.  I hope we don’t have any early birds like Tim in this group.”

 

Noreen put the two boys on the big bed, side by side.  She snuggled between them on her knees and sucked one and then the other until they were panting, but she quit before their engines fired.  Then she rolled over on her back and told them to use fingers and tongues to arouse her and give her an orgasm.  “No dicks, we’ll save that.”  She ended by sucking them both to wild climaxes, after which they all fell asleep in a heap.  In the morning she said, “OK, you’re both going to fuck me.  One gets my ass, the other gets my cunt.  Ass is first.  Who’s going first?”

 

Carle said, “I will.”  He moved over her, pushed her legs up and very gently and lovingly inserted his dick in her ass and pumped until he came.

 

Noreen said, “Carle, that was wonderful.  Mitch, it’s your turn.  But, let’s not be so afraid to injure the delicate girls.  I don’t break any quicker than little boys do, so really bang me around.”  It took several urgings, but Mitch finally got the idea.  They climaxed pretty much simultaneously, and all three fell in a heap together.  Soon, it was shower time, and they found they were the last to the shower.  Noreen scrubbed Carle, with emphasis you know where, rinsed him with the hand held shower head, and then used it to get him fully aroused and hard.  Then she got down on her knees and took him in her mouth as she said, “Now let’s see just how much you have left in you.”

 

The answer was:  not much, but it didn’t take long for it to slosh into her mouth.  Mitch had washed himself, and declined her offer.  He said, “There’s no way I could come again; I haven’t got it in me.”

 

Noreen said, “I’ll bet you do, but we’ll find out another time.”  Mitch was relieved, and Noreen could easily see that she’d been right not to push him.  She’d followed the Gang rule not to push people out of their comfort zone.

 

I’ll leave to your imagination the evening and morning activities of the other two trios.  Suffice it to say that an exciting time was had by all.

 

So, did this affect the working relationship between the mathematicians and the physicists.  Well, not directly, and not at first.  Remember, Carle and Allen had basically said, “Let us alone with the problem and we’ll get back to you.”  So there hadn’t yet developed a “working relationship.”  And, at first, there was a little embarrassment as the nine met each other in various contexts on campus.  Slowly, however, deeper friendships developed, and sexual encounters involving smaller groups developed.  They got comfortable with each other, and began to develop the rapport that was evident among members of the Gang.

 

And, yes, Cam was true to his word.  He talked to his parents, and other members of the original Gang.  It was quickly agreed that Allen, Carle, Roger, Mitch, and Grant would be invited to join the Gang.  After a short discussion with Charlie and me about what was involved in being a member of the Gang, Charlie called together all of the Gang members resident in Grand Forks.  We didn’t think we needed to ask the rest to travel; they’d meet the new members in due course.  So we gathered at The Hideout; had Kay, Kevin, Cam and Noreen strip the five naked; told them to moon us; had the numbers 120, 121, 122, 123,  and 124 inscribed on their buns by Franklin who then told them to turn around, whereupon (as agreed in advance) we grabbed for their dicks.  Jim got Roger’s, Max got Carle’s, Charlie got Allen’s, Trudi got Mitch’s, and Sid got Grant’s.  It was announced that our new members would spend the night with the person whose hand was now encircling their dick.  With that there were Cokes all around.

 

Charlie and I had a quick powwow after we’d finished our Cokes.  Allen was a graduate student at UND, and therefore in a category we’d considered off limits.  I told Charlie, “You’re not the President, and he’s simply one of the most gorgeous fellows I’ve ever laid my eyes on.  You bring him to bed tonight, have a good time, and I’ll just watch.  I won’t have broken my rule, and we’ll both have a grand time.  But let’s do it here at The Hideout, not at Dakota House.  It seems more fitting.”

 

So, after everyone had gone home, except Kevin and Noreen who were living in one of the guest rooms on the second floor, Charlie brought Allen into the master bedroom, and told him to do a strip tease.  Oh, God, Allen was good.  And beautiful.  And he was as beautiful naked as when wearing his stylish clothing.  His dick was as hard as a rock before he had his undershorts off, and then, there he was, naked, gorgeous, and Charlie’s for the taking.  And it was very clear that he was eager to be taken.  Charlie took him to the shower and I joined them.  Charlie washed us both, and then had Allen wash him.  We rinsed, played with the shower heads for a while, and then headed for the bed.

 

Charlie didn’t want to push Allen, so he asked him whether he preferred manual, oral, or anal sex.  Allen replied, “I’m OK with any, and this is your night.  But if you’re asking my preference, it would be oral.”

 

Charlie asked, “69 or one after the other?”

 

Allen said, “Suck me, please, now.  Oh, God, I’m so hot.”

 

He was, and Charlie had him bouncing on the bed beside me very quickly.  He soon came, and Charlie took it all in his mouth, and then shared some with Allen and then with me.  Allen was as good at sucking Charlie as Charlie had been with him, and he handled the cum in the same way.  As he kissed me, he asked, “Wouldn’t you like me to suck you?”

 

I said, “President Tim is off limits.  You’re not a law student, so the Dean of Law is not.  We have a date for right after your graduation.  And bring Carle along.”

 

“Carle is going to be so jealous of this evening.”

 

“Believe me, he’s going to have the time of his life with Max.  He couldn’t have gotten grabbed by a sexier guy.”

 

“Is this always the way you induct new members of the Gang?”

 

“No, not at all.  But I’ll admit that the process has gotten raunchier and raunchier as time’s gone by.  I think that that’s our admission that sex is an essential part of the Gang.  We’ve tried to deny that, but it’s time to admit its truth.”

 

“This will truly be a night to remember for me.”

 

The next morning Sid arrived with his sketch pad.  Allen, still naked, was told to be seated on the floor, with his hand grasping his dick.  He was told to move it around like a joy stick.  A dozen sketches later, some very close up, and he was ready to go.  Sid said, “I love this shower.  You don’t mind if I bathe before I leave.”

 

Allen, showing he was very much a part of the Gang, said, “Sure, and I need a shower as well.”  The two of them spent much longer in the shower than they needed to get clean.

 

A week later the group of nine, the original eight of the Gang, Sid, Cathy, Auggie and Lynn, Carl and Carol, and a few others that Sid had invited, gathered at Gangland for the unveiling.  He had the five new members strip and sit in a circle with their feet spread and touching.  They were told to grab their dicks and use them as joysticks to control a helicopter which he put in the center of the circle.  Of course, moving their dicks didn’t move the helicopter, but Auggie accomplished that with the electronic controls.  It sure looked like the dicks were in control.  Then Sid unveiled his picture, which exactly captured the scene on the floor.  It is one of my favorites in the entire collection.  It order to mount it, Sid had had to go back and rehang every picture, with two rows, one above the other.  The larger pictures that included more than one Gang member hung singly.  With this new arrangement, we had room for a lot more members.  Sid pointed out that we could go three high if we needed to.

 

To be continued...

Posted: 04/11/14