Date: Sun, 22 Feb 2004 20:12:40 -0800
From: posingstrap@hotmail.com
Subject: very best friends

      The year was 1975, at the height of the 'Free Love' era, and we were
very best friends--at least that's how Tony seemed to see it.  Much as I
wanted to, I couldn't believe a guy like him would consider me his very best
friend.  It didn't add up--and I didn't really trust him.  But there I was,
waiting for him beside my locker--waiting for him to finish wrestling
practise.
     I mean that alone--that he was captain of the wrestling team, while I
only did gymnastics, put Tony in a whole other league.  Never mind that Tony
was also on the baseball team--was always surrounded by giggling
cheerleaders--that every cool jock in Rutland High considered him their own
best friend.  Let's also throw in the additional fact that Tony was a
'townie', while I was bussed-in everyday from our farm.  Farm boys were
'outsiders', 'hicks', '4-H'ers'--in other words, we were 'dirt' to those who
lived in town.  I mean, I could see the silent envy, bordering on contempt,
whenever Tony left his admirers behind in order to meet up with me.
Gymnastics wasn't cool--and the gymnastics team was all made up of us farm
boys.
    No one except Tony came to our events.  The empty gym echoed from his
hollered cheers when I would dismount from the rings or bars.  It was
embarrassing as hell and made me instantly flush with chagrined pride.  Were
it anyone else, I would just want to die, but Tony Rodrigez was considered
'King of the Jocks'.  His enthusiastic cheers over my performances were
viewed by my team as a supreme compliment, and served to make me do my
routines to please him alone.
     In my own mind, though, I felt lucky.  I felt lucky that Tony was my
'buddy'.  So on that day, I leaned against my locker in the empty hallway and
again thought, "Yeah, I'm just his buddy.  It's a good word.  Buddies are
'just friends'."   Buddies aren't best friends, and certainly not very best
friends, I counselled myself.  I did so because I still couldn't believe
that Tony had called me his very best friend--but he did--and not just once.
  I shook my head at the whole idea.

     Even the first time he'd said it to me, I tried to correct him.  We
were at the swimming hole on my family's farm.  Tony was wearing his red
Speedos while I just had on my gym shorts.  We were sitting on the raft,
watching the sunfish nibble on our toes.
     "You ever have a best friend?", he'd asked out of the blue.
     I had to think it over.  "Tommy Walker, I guess--before his parents
sold the farm.  They moved to Montpelier.  I never hear from him anymore."
     Tony kicked the water around a while.  Then he looked at me so long, I
finally had to turn and look back at him.  His eyes are like a deers'.
They're very dark brown and have long lashes.  They the biggest eyes I've
ever seen.  I can hardly look into them without feeling like they're looking
right through me.  It's wierd.

     "You are my best friend," he said quietly.  "You are the very best
friend I have."

     I suddenly looked at his full lips and snow white teeth, as if  unsure
he was speaking to me--which of course was stupid because there was no one
else there.
     "Oh, come on," I blushed.
      "No," he said, once again cathing my eyes.  "You are, Jon.  Can't you
believe it when I say it?"
     I truly blushed then.  I could feel the blood going right up my neck.
I don't know why I blushed, except Tony is the most handsome guy in our
whole school.  Everyone thinks so, especially  the cheerleaders.
     "You're the most popular...", I began to protest.
     "No, I'm not," he interrupted forcefully.  "Anyway, I don't care about
that--or them, either, really."
He seemed to want to touch me or something.  He seemed  intense and
agitated.  Tony is the most physical guy I know, and his eyes went very dark
and liquid.  "Don't you want a best friend?"
     I felt my whole face bloom scarlet at his question.  "S-sure", I
stammered, hating myself for agreeing so quickly.
     He put his hand right on my knee--his dark brown hand on my bare knee.
"Then say that you're mine," he insisted, smiling, squeezing into my leg.
     "Okay," was all I could say back.
     "Good.  Now let's race to the dock."
      So we did.  And I won.

     That was the first of several more times.  Tony's face always
brightened when he saw me in the hall between classes.  He'd leave girls in
mid-sentence to playfully push me against the wall, pinning me there.
     "How's my very best friend?", he'd grinned down at me a few days ago.
     I'm five-foot-four, and Tony is about five-eleven, with the widest
shoulders of anyone.
     "How's mine?", I'd managed to mumble back, having to look up into his
grinning face.
     He then messed up my blond hair.  "We're going to my cottage, aren't
we?--I can't wait!"
     "You invited anyone else?", I'd asked, looking at his clique
impatiently waiting for his attentions.  The girls were glaring at me.
      "Hell, no," he whispered, letting me go.  "I don't want to ruin it,
now do I?"
      And suddenly his magical presence was back being courted by his
muscle-jock friends and adoring cheeleaders--and I was left wondering if it
had even happened.  I was left wondering how he could be so physical, almost
affectionate with me in front of those guys.  It was hugely embarrassing,
yet because he was Tony Rodrigez, anything he did was instantly deemed
'cool'.  But the lingering looks of others in the hallway let me know pretty
quickly that they thought I was a brown-nosing little queer.
     "No,"  I again thought, as I leaned against my locker and searched the
now-vacant hall, "I'm a buddy.   He may say it'll just be the two of us, but
it won't be.  He's too popular.  They'll all show up somehow and he'll act
like he's surprised."
     I looked down at my gym bag, full of everything from fresh underwear to
fishing lures, and wondered if I'd also packed the brand new Speedos I'd
decided I'd get.  Believing it really wouldn't end up being just Tony and I,
I didn't want to look uncool in front of his supremely cool friends.  But I
couldn't believe how much those stupid little things cost--all to impress
people I didn't even like.
     Sure enough, I heard faraway laughter and knew that Tony and his gaggle
of fans was approaching.  I steeled myself emotionally, preparing to be
barely tolerated, wondering how many of them would be coming along with us
to his cottage.
     The group turned the far corner, Tony in the middle.  He is always
unmistakable because Tony is dark-skinned.  His father is from Cuba, and his
mother, African American.  Tony's skin is the color and texture of mocha, or
milk chocolate.  It makes his smile super-white, and his eyes all the more
expressive.  He's as handsome as a guy gets, with a body to match.  And all
the girls love his dark looks--exotic, I've heard them call him.  I'm sure
if he were skinny and ugly, they'd whisper 'nigger'.  He's the only person
in school who's not white as a ghost.

     My parents are Scandinavian.  When I was a boy my hair was so
curly-blond, it was almost white.  At least, though, I tan really well, or
I'd truly feel like a ghost next to Tony.
     "Hey, Jensen," Matthew Brooks said half-heartedly as he approached.
     "Hey Matt," I answered, trying to smile.
     "Jon!", Tony shouted.  He pushed me and then messed-up my curly hair.
Tony's hair is super-curly--kinky, he calls it--and as black as ebony.
     His gathering of popular wrestling jocks watched all this as if
suddenly bored to death.  They seemed to be waiting for Tony to finish with
me so they could all keep on walking.
     "Catch you later," Tony said to their surprised faces.  "Great
workout--you nearly pinned me, Brooks!"
     "Uh, okay," David Williams said, looking at me, then at Tony.  "We're
going to Brenda's party later--the folks are away."  He winked at Tony.
Matt Brooks threw Tony a punch.
     "Don't get hammered again, Williams," Tony laughed.  He smiled at them
winningly, until they reluctantly mumbled things and went off by themselves.
       "You could still go, you know," I said, genuinely amazed to see them
walk off without their 'hero'.
      "What?--to Brenda's?"
      I nodded.
     "I thought we had a date," he said, clearly disappointed.

     My neck began to burn, blood rushing into my cheeks.  I couldn't
believe I'd heard the word 'date' come out of Tony's lips.  "Well, we do," I
fumbled, mumbling my words.
     "My stuff's in the Jeep," Tony grinned.  He looked at my bag.
"Jesus--what'd you bring?--it's only for a weekend!"

     He grabbed my gym bag, pretending it weighed a ton, going on about what
a cool time we were going to have.
     And then we were in his Jeep, me pausing when I saw a whole case of
Miller in the back.
     "It's from my Dad," Tony laughed, his teeth so white, his full lips
spread. "He said we won't catch fish without some beer."
     He drove us out of the parking lot.  "My Dad's cool.  He knows I can't
handle more than three without falling over."  We immediately headed out of
town.  "And he trusts me, which is the coolest of all!"
     We discussed my own limited experience with drinking, then switched to
sports.  All the while I felt in a dream of sorts, as I watched the farms
give way to forest.  There was Tony, laughing at my stories about trying out
golf, his animated face looking over at me every chance he could.  He seemed
to always want to look right into my eyes.
     I felt proud to have his attention.  I even fleetingly began to feel
like Tony's very best friend.  He listened to every single word I
said---kept asking me my opinions on baseball and other sports.  It became a
little too much of a good thing.  I began to wonder if there wasn't going to
be a 'catch' in all this.

     I glanced back at the case of beer.  "I guess you invited some friends
to join us?", I nodded at it.
     "What?--this weekend?", he looked genuinely surprised by the question.
"I already told you it's just gonna be 'us'."
     I could detect hurt in his smile.  "I know.  Sorry."
     He grinned again, his dark face and white teeth gleaming at me.  The
sun was shining through spaces in the trees as we came into the mountains.
"I told you my Dad trusts me,"  he explained.  "You think I'd risk all that
by inviting those horny bastards to the lake?"
     I shrugged a little, not knowing how to react.
     "They just want to get laid--every last one of 'em," he laughed,
shaking his head.  Tony's ears are very small and cute, and lie right
against his head.  And his nappy hair is cut very short.  "You watch--on
Monday they'll be full of lies, bragging about Brenda's stupid party."
     I wondered to myself whether Tony had ever laid a cheerleader.
     "My Dad knows your Dad.  They're in Rotary.  He thought it was fine
when I asked if we could use the cottage."  He looked at me, eyes all happy,
as though proud I was his special pal.  "And it's a great place!  We put in
a hot tub last summer."
     I couldn't help but glance at Tony's shoulder and biceps while he
drove.  Tony is amazingly built.  Even I, with my gymnasts' body, don't come
close to his incredible physique.  His shoulder is the size of a shotput.
His biceps nearly ripped his T shirt open as he steered the Jeep.
     I looked up to see Tony watching me admiring his build.  I fought
against  the blood rising up my neck again.  He smiled even more at me, as
if proud I even noticed his body.  I smiled back, but didn't know what to
say.  What do you say, when you've just been caught checking out your best
friend's muscles?  Shit.
     "I think you're cool," Tony then said, looking at the steep, winding
road.  "You know that, huh?"
     "What?", I asked, not believing it.
     "You are," he nodded.  "I have a very cool, very best friend."
     I shook my head, smiling like an idiot.  "Come on, Tony.  Shit."
     "Seriously."
     "No one else thinks that," I lamely protested.  "They think I'm a ..."
     "They're jerks," Tony's face grew angry-looking.  I'd never seen him
frown, much less appear angry.  "They couldn't get even up on that high bar,
or those rings, much less pull off your routines.  It's fucking amazing, is
what it is."
     "God," I said.  "Thanks."  I felt a surge of pride make my heart pound
like a hammer.
     "For your height, you have the most perfect body I've ever seen," Tony
added, looking me over.
     "Shit," I said, glancing his way.  "It's nothing like yours."  I meant
every word, though I was sure Tony had heard it a million times before.
     He seemed almost ready to blush himself!  He swallowed and gripped the
wheel, his face beaming as he looked at the highway.  "You really think
so?," he asked thickly, his voice unsure, expectant.
     I felt disbelief rise up my throat.  I looked at his profile, trying to
detect false humility, or something.  Instead, he swallowed again, his
Adams' Apple bobbing, his eyes plastered on the road.  He was waiting for my
response, I could tell.  His smile was evaporating into crestfallen
disappointment the longer I stayed silent.

     "It's---well, it's . . . "
     "What?", he interrupted, his huge eyes looking uncharactaristically
searching.  "Too much bulk?--I can do something about that--eat leaner and
stuff. . ."
     I laughed.  I shouldn't have, but couldn't help it.  The most handsome,
built, popular jock at Rutland High was apologizing to me over his body!
     "Oh, shit," Tony said, blinking his eyes at the road.  "You think . . .
"
     ". . . I think NOTHING," I slapped my knee, flashing my green eyes at
him.  "You're like a GOD to me, or something.  God damn!"  I felt my face
grow instantly red.  I didn't know what I was saying anymore.  I just felt
upset.  "You're like a fucking ADONIS!"
     There was this hideous silence, filled-in by the climbing Jeep's
engine.
     "Why do you think you're so . . . so godamned popular?", I asked, my
voice cracking, my heart pounding.  "Don't tell me you don't even KNOW!  You
have to.  I'm sorry, but you DO.  You have to."

     Again, a horrible silence filled the car, Tony staring out at the
winding road while I brooded in the passenger seat.

     "Oh God, I'm sorry,"  I said again.  "I get this way sometimes.  I
don't know what I'm saying."
     Tony's smile was sad, but still there.  "I told you already that they
don't matter to me," he said, his long-lashed eyes blinking at me.  "As long
as I win all my matches and hit homeruns, they treat me like a Superhero,"
he said.  "But, Jon, in case you haven't noticed . . . I'm the only colored
kid in the school.  I'm black," he gestured to his face.  "My Momma's black.
  She's truly black.  Way, way, black."

     He swallowed, his smile very sad now.  "And you're the only one who
doesn't give a shit if I win or lose, or I'm fuckin' 'green', for Christ's
sake."  His eyes swallowed mine right inside.  "And you know why?"

     I could only shake my head, feeling dumb and stupid for my silent
reaction.
     "Because you're my very best friend," Tony announced, as if reminding
himself of what he's decided I was to him.  "And because you already know
what an outsider feels like.  You already know what if feels like to be
different from everyone else.  They treat you like you don't even exist."
     "Thanks," I half-whispered, my voice hoarse.  And finally,  I actually
believed Tony Rodrigez.  "And you're right, you know--I am.  I am your very
best friend."  I felt my eyes sting.  "And  you're mine, too," I added,
meaning every word.



Chapter Two

     It wasn't  really a cottage  so much as a rambling house with a huge
deck and hot tub, with lots of wooden steps leading down the steep backyard
to the secluded lake.  It was early October, and we had to be the only ones
around.  All the other cottages had their docks pulled-up onto the bank.
And there were no boats or canoes anywhere on the glassy, chilled surface.
     "We keep ours open all winter," Tony said as we stood on the dock, his
huge shoulder brushing against mine.  We looked over the silent lake,
listening to the call of blue jays.  "My Dad loves ice fishing.  I think
it's like watching paint dry--but he loves it, so I go, too."
     "You love your Dad a lot," I said, looking at his smile.
     "He's my hero.  He's the most affectionate, supportive guy there is",
he smiled at me proudly.  "I love my Momma too--a lot, don't get me wrong. .
. but my Dad's a real man."  He looked at me sincerely.  "I admire guys like
him--guys with guts--guys who can show their feelings without feeling
they're sissies."

     He looked at me like I was myself a guy like his Dad.  I could only nod
back, wondering how I could even come close to being a man in Tony's eyes.
My own father was strong, silent, and distant.  I knew he loved me, but
wasn't always sure of it.
     "Hey," he said suddenly, taking off one of his sneakers.  "Let's take a
swim before it gets completely dark," Tony grinned at me.  "It's gonna be
pretty chilly, but then there's always the hot tub!"
     "Jeez," I looked into the uninviting depths, watching the fall leaves
floating on top of the silent water.  "You sure you want to?"  It looked
absolutely freezing cold, especially with no sun, and no one else enjoying
it.  Some crows flew over, cawing at us like we were intruding.
     "I switched on the hot tub already," he said, pulling up his T shirt.
     "But," I looked down at myself, then at him.
       "There's no one here!", he announced happily.  "Besides, it's getting
dark," he gestured at the sky.  "Leave your jockey's on if you want," he
tugged his tight shirt over his gym-built pecs.  "But there's seriously no
one around but us. . . trust me."

     I could handle Tony in Speedos---I'd managed before.  But Tony
completely naked wasn't something I'd ever seen, or was ready to see.  I
suddenly wished his friends would all show up.
     Truth be told, I have a really big cock, which seems to have a mind all
its own.  It's why I always wait after our meets to shower alone.  There is
something about my being naked around other naked guys that makes my
oversized dork embarrass me.

     Suddenly, I was staring at the naked cheeks of Tony's completely round,
muscular, chocolate-toned ass!

     I shivered in the chilly evening light--hating the idea of even
attempting to jump into that frosty, midnight-dark lake--yet hating even
more throwing an embarrassing, telltale hardon in front of Tony.
     I wavered briefly, my eyes glimpsing the triangular dark vee of Tony's
pubic bush--seeing for the first time how he sported a cock to end all
cocks--and suddenly just jumped in.
     A roaring, icy thunder hit my brain, my heart nearly exploding from the
shock!  Surfacing like mad, a second thunderous roar filled my senses.  I
gasped and struggled, clawing for  the surface, my legs treading like crazy.

     "Oh, Jesus," I shivered as I shouted.  "Jesus Christ!"

     Tony whooped and splashed, the noise echoing rudely in the silent
autumnal air.  He kicked a ton of water at me, so I grabbed for his foot,
and sent him under.  Then I was suddenly left staring at nothing, wondering
where the hell he went.
     I felt apprehensive, knowing he was down there below me.  I also felt
totally vulnerable because we were bareassed naked.  I know that's not such
a big deal, I guess--or shouldn't be--but it was an unfamiliar lake, and the
water was freezing, and even with a suit on, I would have felt naked.  But
actually, truly BEING bareassed naked in that dark, cold, deserted
lake--well, it made me feel ultra-naked or something.  I just felt really
jumpy and skittish.
     A swirl of current hit way down around my ankles.  There were little
swirls rising on the surface, and litte bubbles.  I knew Tony was down there
scheming, when suddenly I felt his big arms clamp around my legs.  The next
thing I knew, we were wrestling underwater--his naked cock pressed right
against my bare ass!  It felt warm and arousing, even as we struggled.
     I couldn't believe he would be so nonchallant about it, as it it didn't
matter at all--like he didn't care his cock was rubbing into my body.  I
pushed at his tremendous biceps, fighting to get to the air.  And when we
finally both did, yelling and spitting and coughing, Tony stayed close to
me, our hips brushing as we treaded like maniacs.
     "Gotcha!", he laughed, trying to grab my ass through the swirling water
below.
     "I almost drowned," I gasped, nervous over his nearness.  I coughed
dramatically.
     "Oh, I wouldn've saved you," he then brought his arm up to lay around
my shoulders.  "What are best friends for?"
     I almost wanted to throw my arm around him, too, but I felt so
goddamned naked.  And he felt so naked, too, his body pressed against my
side.  And then we were quietly looking at the orangey reflection of the
setting sun, listening to the distant sound of crows.
     Tony left his arm where it was, our hips joined, while we kicked to
stay boyant.
     "It's beautiful here, huh?", he said, sighing contentedly, his warmth
and big muscles carressing my submerged body.  His vice was low and
intimate-sounding, his arm draped across my shoulders, his head close to
mine.
     "Um, yeah," I agreed, afraid to really enjoy his closeness.  I simply
couldn't believe Tony's casual, unembarrassed relaxation.  I mean, he was
literally hugging me--another guy--in the water while we were both nude!
     He was acting like it was the most natural thing there was to do.
     "You cold?", he wondered, as I felt my body trembling.  I was numb,
except where my skin touched his.
     "Well, yeah," I lauughed a little.  "Aren't you?"
     "Naw," he said, pulling me even closer into him.  "You're real warm you
know."
     I really didn't know what to say to that.  "You're real warm, too," I
managed.  And then I nearly died when I thought I felt his chubby cock
poking my thigh.
     "I love swimming naked," he said then, finally letting go of my
shoulders.  Next, he was facing me, our toes hitting as we treaded.  His
teeth were snow white in the evening darkness, while his eyes were so
seductive, I swallowed when he gazed at me.  "Do you?", he asked, grinning.
     "Do I, what?", I asked back, trying to relax some.
     "--like swimming bareassed?", he laughed, splashing me a little.  "I
bet you do--at the swimming hole--when no one's around."
     Again, I could hardly look at those huge, dark eyes without looking
away.  It's like no one on earth could ever tell a lie while under Tony's
gaze.
     "My family's real modest,"  said earnestly.  "I always think someone's
watching me, or something."
     Tony's teeth flashed in the dimming light.  "But it's cool, huh?--Right
now, I mean--huh?"
     I looked around at the dusky shore, unable to make out the surrounding
cottages.  "You're sure no one's here?--I mean, you know . . . "
     Tony turned to see where I was looking.  Then he looked back at me.
"Jeez," he laughed, "you really ARE modest, huh, Jonnie?"
     "I dunno," I smiled weakly, embarrassed.
     Tony treaded his way back beside me, his body instantly warm where we
brushed and kicked.  "We should be proud of how we look, you know," he said.
  "Besides, we won't have to wash our suits and hang 'em up on the line and
all that shit."
     He made it sound like wringing out a skimply pair of  Speedos was a
huge job!  He also made it sound like we'd be spending the whole weekend
skinny dipping.  I laughed then, his logic sounding absurd, his voice
amazingly sincere.
     "You know what?", I smiled.
     "What?--tell me," he bumped his hip against mine.
     "You're like Huckleberry Finn or Tom Sawyer--that's what!"
     He seemed a little surprised, searching my face for disapproval or
something.  "Is that bad?"
     "Hell, no, it's not bad," I laughed.  "It's better than being little
Jonnie Jensen," I said, self-critically.  "Little modest Jon-Jon."
     He splashed me teasingly.  "So what if you're modest?  Shit.  And you
sure aren't 'little'!"  He grabbed my bicep, making it flex against his
grip.  "BIG fuckin' biceps, man," he whistled.  "Shoulders, too."
     "Come on," I mumbled, while flexing even more into his warm fingers.
     "You're the best," he reached out and once again drew me into his side,
his hand on my upper back.  He was amazingly developed--I could feel his
muscles rippling.  "No one's as humble and well-built as you are," he said
admiringly.  "You keep to yourself--don't parade around like we do."  He let
go of me, leaving me feeling a little dazed.  I could barely see him anymore
it was getting so dark.  "And no one bothers to watch you on the bars or the
rings--'cuz, you know why?"
     I shook my head, then realised he probably couldn't see me.  "No," I
said.  "Why?"
     "Because they're already green with envy, that's why."  He tugged my
arm to get me to go with him back to the dock.  "They can't handle anyone as
talented as you.  That's why, Jonnie."
     I didn't know what to say, so I just breast-stroked slightly behind
him, unsure of my bearings.  Compliments of any kind embarrass me to death.
Compliments coming from a guy as built and handsome and popular as Tony made
me go dumb.  I sort of distrust compliments, because I'm afraid I'll start
to believe them or something.