Date: Sun, 23 Sep 2007 15:48:46 -0500
From: J.J. <jjjanicki@gmail.com>
Subject: Understanding Sex-Part 9

The following contains nudity, another wet dream, underage viewng of
pornographic movies, profanity, gambling, Sabbath breaking, belief in
reincarnation, possible trespassing, teenage arrogance towards authority,
rampant drug use, underage operation of a motor vehicle... but no actual
sex. Unless you want to count whacking off. So there're some lustful
thoughts as well. But come part TEN... oh my. Just stay tuned, OK? Unless
for any reason it is illegal for you do so, then in that case, please
change channels.

But about that drug use. From this point on, my story descends into...
well, self-destructive behavior. While I wasn't unique, I'm not condoning
it now. But it's the way I was back then. I survived, the people I cared
about survived as well, but you might not. And that's about all I'm going
to say about this.


                          Understanding Sex-Part 9
 A Train Cannot Pull Off Onto The Shoulder Of a Fucking Expressway, Damn
It


Thursday, June 16... The past few days have been fairly eventful. I got
in some pretty good practice at #5 over the weekend, then on Monday I
decided to check out #2, since they're having a qualifying tournament the
day after #5. (July 3rd.)

Anyway, soon as I showed up, who did I see but Adam Kemme. Only he was
over on the pro side. So I took a deep breath, wandered over and said,
"So you're a pro now?"

"Well, I haven't yet played in my first tournament, but for better or
worse I suppose that's what I am all right." Then he added, "So you're up
here for the summer again?"

He's maybe 4 or 5 inches taller and has lost most of his baby fat but
aside from that, he looks pretty much the same. So he's still good
looking as all get out. And not NEARLY as stand-offish. He wondered if
anyone had showed me the shots over on the amateur side. (No, I'd just
got there.) So he could show them to me, if I wanted him to. Well, of
course I did. And as usual, he knew about everything there was to KNOW
about that course. Same old Adam. Except somehow he seemed different. I
couldn't quite put my finger on it, but he just seemed ... well, not
quite as self-assured. He cussed a great deal more than last summer. So
he wasn't as concerned about talking precisely. And while he was almost
as neat as always, in a way he wasn't. Which explains the "almost" I
guess.

After awhile he wondered if I wanted him to show me the shots on the pro
course. Said he needed a good partner for some pot games. (Best ball is
one of the favored games.) And that made me feel good. Especially after
he asked me to help HIM figure out some shots on a couple of holes he was
having trouble with. (See, there are shots that the locals play which
MIGHT go in, but often there are BETTER shots. You just have to
experiment. Mabye you need to move your spot on the tee mat over a
little. Maybe hit it further down the rail. Or maybe something nobody's
ever tried before. And between us, we came up with some good ones.)

Tuesday afternoon we got our first action. And totally wiped OUT Robert
Etron and some local turkey, along with some other teams. But we ended up
playing Robert and his partner quite a few times, and the stakes just
keep going higher and higher. (Robert was last year's #5 course champion.
Although none of our malcontents PLAYED in the damn tournament.
Because... well, that tournament is described in "The Great Reel", which
if you recall, I decided not to include in THIS story... so let's just
say Robert's a hateful person and leave it at that.) (And I think until
he gets his next paycheck from Burger King, he's also broke.) We cleared
$140 APIECE. (Pros play for a lot more than JPPNAs usually play for.)

So we were over at Hardee's after we'd finished for the day and he asked,
"Do you think you could go to Joplin and Kansas City this weekend?"
(Qualifying tournaments. Joplin, Mo Sat, KC Sunday.)

"I don't know. Maybe. Who you going with?" (Maybe because I didn't want
to hurt Austin's feelings. So if he didn't WANT me to go... well, I
wasn't sure. That could be a problem. And Adam HAD to be going with
someone else, because he doesn't turn 16 until July.)

"McAteer." (At which point my eyes got real big.) Which I guess he
noticed, because he quickly added, "Hey, it'll be cool. I really wouldn't
be going with him myself if I had another way, but at least he'll wait
until we get to our room for the night before we get tore up." (At which
point my eyes MUST have gotten about as big as they possibly COULD.)

I managed, "We?"

"Yeah, I guess" He shrugged. "I just got tired of being a damn geek,
OK?.. I suppose I'm STILL a geek, I can't help THAT... But.. well, tell
me something. Exactly why did YOU start last year?"

This was getting complicated in a HURRY. "I just wanted to be cool, you
know?"

"yeah, I know. I know EXACTLY what you mean. ... So you want to burn
one?"

So I DIDN'T say, "No, I swore to Austin I wouldn't do it anymore", (this
was getting complicated as SHIT) no, I said, "Yeah, I guess..."

But I felt guilty about it, OK? Only with Adam all bets were off.

When I was in the 2nd grade, there was this kid a grade ahead of me. One
of those perfect kids. He could do no wrong. And while I didn't figure I
was the LEAST popular, I DID think I was pretty far down the list, so I
often enough fantasized about how me and perfect kid could one day become
best friends. Saving his life a time or two would've been very helpful.
Definitely. And so eventually me and the perfect kid would go riding off
into the sunset, true friends forever. Well, in spite of some of the
things I've said about Adam, he was in that category last summer. I'm not
sure why, but he just WAS, OK?

But then on the OTHER hand, you and perfect kid can share a terrible
secret. So he's NOT perfect, but while the rest of the world might hold
it against him, you don't, in fact You'll even SHARE his imperfection.
... And do you know what? I'm not exactly sure where this voyage of
self-discovery is headed.

So fuck it. Let's just get to the point. There are many ways to mess up
and being a pot head is one of them, OK? But if he was going to do it and
he wanted me to do it with him, I would. I'd feel guilty about it later.

And I DID. When Austin called me around 10 yesterday morning, at first I
was like, "He's back! YES!" then "Oh man, what am I going to TELL him?"
It was complicated. Or at least it was until he told me he was still up
at Lake Superior and he was sorry, but he'd decided to stay up there for
a couple more weeks. Hearing one of his cousins in the background
hollering for him to hurry up DID stir up some green-eyed jealousy, but
at the same time I felt like my problems had been solved. I mean it's
VERY complicated.

I'd reluctantly told Adam I couldn't make it out to #2 yesterday, but
when I went running up to him a little past noon and said "I can go!"
(I'd been telling him it was up to Aunt Esther) and he said "All right!
So, you got any holes you're having any trouble with?" I was on cloud
nine again. Which is weird in a way, because while it IS about sex (I
KNOW when I've got a crush on somebody), the fact is I'll be doing good
if I so much as see him in his damn undies.

But then on the OTHER hand, when we smoked one out in the woods behind
the course today, he took a piss right out there. He did turn his back,
but LAST summer he would never have done that. So who knows? I mean he's
changed. A lot.

So. In roughly two weeks I've gone from hoping to do it ALL with Matthew
to hoping me and Austin might eventually jerk each other off to hoping
Adam will take a piss without turning his back.

Which would be sad all right... but I saw Tallis today. And found out
some very interesting things. But I'll save that for next week. Which is
when I'm fairly sure I'll have more to report than just conjecture. A LOT
more. And it's not about being in LUV, it's about sex. SERIOUS sex. I
wouldn't do it unless it was with somebody I at least liked though. And I
still like him. So stay tuned.


Monday, June 20th...  Well. For starters me and Adam are NEVER going to
go on a long trip with McAteer again. We might not even make a short trip
with him. We haven't told him we aren't ever going to another tournament
with him, but we have both agreed that we are NOT. But then in just two
weeks it's #5 and #2 anyway and two days after that Adam will get his
license. So he'll then be able to drive his grandparent's second car,
which is a 77 Mercury Monarch. Which doesn't sound like the coolest set
of wheels I can imagine, but I guess it could be worse.

Oh by the way: And I'm getting ahead of myself a little, but I found out
that Adam isn't living with his mother now, in fact, she isn't even
speaking to him. But he's not out on the street, he's living with his
grandparents. Well, I'll tell you more about that shortly.

But it was an interesting weekend. And it wasn't all bad either.

We left around six Friday morning after meeting at #5. Aside from our
overnight bags and putters, I had most of my half ounce, Adam had most of
his (we went in together and bought an ounce) and McAteer had a pound.
Most of which he planned to sell in Joplin and Kansas City. To fellow
PPPNA members. And he did, by the way. Everybody in the PPPNA isn't on
drugs, but there're more than a few who are.

But we hadn't gone a mile before the first problem came up. McAteer is a
heavy metal freak and it appears to be terminal. On and on and ON down
I-35 we went with party groups like Iron Maiden shrieking away in our
ears. I think my ears are STILL ringing some. And by now you should've
deduced that albums like "Number Of The Beast" aren't all that conducive
to my getting pleasantly stoned, either. Nor was observing cars up ahead
appear to be approaching us backwards very very FAST all that comforting.
And even LESS comforting was the thought of getting pulled over with a
pound under the right front seat. So when we stopped for gas just before
crossing into Iowa, me and Adam both were thinking about going home. I'm
serious. But finally McAteer said he'd stay within the speed limit since
he guessed we were right about how he didn't need to be pulled over. And
he'd turn the volume down some. Only it was STILL too loud.

But like I already said, the trip did have it's good moments as well,
even beyond McAteer turning off his heavy metal for awhile. The first
came as a result of us getting off the interstate in Des Moines and
taking U.S. 69. Shortly after we exited, we saw a Wal-Mart. So we got him
to stop and we got some cotton to stuff in our ears.

But the REASON he got off the interstate was that he thought he could
find some ACID. Only he didn't, and when he finally said, "This town's
dry. I guess we might as well just keep going", now that really WAS good.
(Even if in the end it didn't matter anyway. Which I will get to soon
enough, but if he'd found some in Des Moines, we might not have reached
EITHER of our intended destinations.)

And then came a REALLY good moment. South of Des Moines, still on 69 we
happened upon Lake Ahquabi, and so McAteer asked, "Hey! You dudes want to
go swimming awhile?"

Almost in unison we answered, "Hell yes!" No doubt Adam just wanted some
relief from the noise and now that I think of it, even if I had been
riding with somebody I didn't even like, I probably would have wanted to
go for the same reason myself, but of course that wasn't my ONLY motive.

Because we DID change in the car and me and Adam were both in the back
seat. He didn't seem shy at all. VERY unexpected. How I managed not to
pop one I'll never know. Because I did look. It still looks like a
sausage to me, but it might not be as big as I thought. You can't really
tell though, because it might have been cold or something. His bush is
coming along real good, but it hasn't started down on his balls yet. He's
just starting to get some on his legs. I didn't see any underarm hair.
Well, it was hard to notice everything, you know. I didn't stare at him.
I wanted to, but I didn't. And I think he gave me a casual glance as
well. I'm pretty sure of it. And he's nearly sixteen.

But. Once in Kansas City things took a turn for the worse again as
McAteer STILL wanted to find some damn acid. We did end up getting lost,
but by then it was too late.

He finally found some window pane at this housing project. And to be
honest, while we were waiting for that dude to return with McAteer's
purchase, I wasn't worried about what was going to happen when he did a
hit or two, I was worried about being murdered. First things first.

I'm not a racist and I hope you can accept that. I'd feel much better
about everything if you could. Still, if you can't, there's not much I
can do about it, but the fact is, there are some black people in this
world who aren't nice people just like there're bad white people. Then
there are black people who are OK, but don't appreciate three whiteys out
slumming, and I doubt if it would've done much good to tell them I didn't
want to be there in the first damn place. Then there are blacks who
simply do not like whites period and while I can't blame them too much,
I'm not suicidal. Well, just in case I AM, I can still think of better
ways of going, and FINALLY, there are black people would just LOVE to be
visited by three whiteys in possession of more than a pound of marijuana
as they will KILL the whiteys and then have a party. This is reality. We
desperately tried to convince McAteer of this as we drove ever deeper
into Kansas City, but no, he just pulled up to this group of a dozen or
so blacks looking real bored like nothing had happened all day and asked
if there was any acid around. And I don't believe any white man except
maybe an occasional politician on a fact-finding tour under heavy police
protection had ever been within fifty blocks of that place. It looked
like a war zone. But somewhat anticlimatically we WEREN'T murdered,
McAteer GOT five hits of widow pane in a dirty white envelope, and before
long we found our way to U.S. 71 south OUT of Kansas City.

And so as we rolled on down the freeway past signs for Raytown, Ruskin
Heights, Grandview, River Oaks and Belton, I kept watching McAteer very
carefully as my only previous experience with anyone doing acid was the
time Rick Linfesty spent a weekend in his closet. Adam was anxiously
watching for a change to occur as well and was suggesting that we find a
motel. We could easily make Joplin early tomorrow morning. But McAteer
said no, we weren't stopping until we got there. Like all at once he's
dedicated.

(Linfesty was an aquaintance of mine at Spring Creek Middle School. But
aside from being a bad influence, he's of little importance to my story.)

We passed Peculiar. That's the name of a town. Peculiar, Mo, population
1571. McAteer still appeared to be normal. But right after passing the
second Harrisonville sign, he suddenly FLOORED it and started yelling,
"Oh NOOO! Get it AWAY FROM ME! Get it AWAY!!!"

Frantically I shouted, "Gary! Gary! It's not real!"

McAteer went, "I know that, you fool! Damn, you really don't know shit,
you know that?" He went on to explain that it wouldn't start hitting him
good until maybe thirty minutes. (We weren't sure how much time had
already elapsed.) And he further explained that it was really like
smoking five good joints all at once, no head trips, just a good body
trip. Then he wondered if either of us wanted to try a hit.

No we didn't.

McAteer shrugged and did another.

"That's two" Adam advised him.

Three, said McAteer, he'd done one when we weren't looking.

Adam gasped and I was thinking the same thing. "Fifteen joints, all at
ONCE?"

"Hey dudes, they probably stepped on it so much, it'll take all five to
get off good, but if it'll make you little chicken shits feel any better,
I'll see what this does before I do anymore, OK?"

Well, before long he seemed to be feeling very good. He wasn't saying
much, but he had this beatific smile plastered across his face. Me and
Adam passed notes back and forth so as not to disturb him. The radio was
on an oldies station turned down to background music level.

I mostly wanted to know if he thought McAteer was safe. Adam said he
didn't really know for sure, but he THOUGHT he was, so he tried to calm
our fears.

And we really WERE starting to think it was OK. But then he rather
abruptly pulled off on the shoulder and said there was a train behind us.
Adam thought he was still trying to pull on our chains, so he said,
"Well, of course there is. They go down this highway all the time. So
let's go, OK?" (But when it was first mentioned, I looked back just to
make sure. I just have this thing about trains. They don't mix real well
with a carload of sinners.)

He was creeping along the shoulder. "It's still behind me."

"Shit" I said with some relief, "Will you quit screwing around? Let's
go."

"I'm telling you, there is a TRAIN behind me!"

Adam said, "You're pulled off on the shoulder. So the trains just go on
the highway. It just went by. We can go now, OK?"

Me, I was leaning up on the back of the front seat looking at him in
bug-eyed wonder. Because I'd never SEEN anybody tripping before.

"It's BEHIND me!" McAteer's voice was a mixture of both fear and
impatience. He kept looking fixedly into his rear view mirror.

"A train cannot pull off onto the shoulder of a fucking expressway, damn
it!" Adam started giggling.

I frantically tapped him on the shoulder and whispered, "Don't get him
excited!" But he just started laughing harder.

"And don't laugh at him!" I hissed.

But even Adam started getting worried when he noticed McAteer WASN'T
laughing because it never seemed like he was too good of an actor. I mean
when he was trying to pull a reel off he usually couldn't keep a straight
face long enough to make it work. So I've heard that sometimes even
experienced acid heads go off on unexpected trips. Maybe that stuff
hadn't been stepped on at all. How should I know? But anyway, I decided
to try some psychology Rick Linfesty had used on me before.

"Look, Gary, it's the drug talking. Now just think. There can't be a
train, even if you think you see one. We're on highway 71, Gary, so there
can't be a train. There aren't even any tracks for it to go on, you see?"

But he was still transfixed with whatever he saw in his rear view mirror.
Then he sighed and said, "It's blowing it's horn."

Well, Rick's psychology never worked all that well with me either. If I
thought I was going to die because I deserved to within the next hour or
so, I'd continue to think that until I came down good or the time almost
HAD to be up, which ever came first. I didn't always go off on those
trips, usually I didn't in fact, but boy, when I did...

But about McAteer. It was entirely possible, I thought, that he'd somehow
been transported into a parallel universe where trains logically traveled
down our federal highways and he just could not convince himself
otherwise. I never smoked fifteen joints all at once, so I don't know
WHAT he thought he saw, but I guess it was a train.

And so we sat there and we sat there for what seemed to be a really long
time, but FINALLY, with a sigh of relief McAteer said the train had gone
by.

Which was good to hear. Only he was still sitting there. So I asked.
"Well, you think it's OK to go now?"

"I can't."

"Why NOT?" asked Adam.

"I can't see over the steering wheel."

"WHY?"

"Because I'm shrinking."

And so Adam removed the keys from the ignition and motioned me to get out
with him. It was dark, had been for about half an hour. It might have
been funny, in fact, if we thought about it too long, it WAS, but we
seemed to be in a fix, and we were beginning to wonder if we wanted him
driving any more that night even if he could see over the steering wheel
again. But we couldn't just stay parked on the side of an expressway
waiting for the highway patrol. So with all that in mind, we mostly just
walked around, kicking at cans and saying "Damn! Son of a Bitch!" and
things of that nature.

But then I thought of something. Don't know why one of us hadn't thought
of it before. "Hey, you can drive, right?"

"Not a straight drive" he answered promptly. "Can you?"

No I couldn't. I couldn't drive period. My old man started to teach me
once, but he started yelling, so I got flustered and ended up in a ditch.
Shot my confidence all to hell. I will give driving another shot when I'm
about sixteen, I guess.

"Well damn!" said Adam and he thought awhile longer then finally said
he'd give it a shot if McAteer was still out of commission. And so we
returned hopefully to the car.

Adam asked, "Hey, Gary. You feeling any better?"

He giggled. "I'm feeling just fine."

"Well, can you drive?"

"I'm too big to drive."

After what seemed an eternity, we finally managed to get him into the
back seat where he'd feel better and could expand and contract to his
heart's content. Because that's basically what he was doing, I mean he'd
think he was getting real small until he was just a little red dot, but
before disappeared entirely, he'd start expanding like a balloon, and
he'd keep getting bigger until he was bigger than the whole mutherfucking
car and he'd be all red and bloody. Weird.  And we also discovered that
we'd been flim-flamed, as the envelope was discovered wadded up empty in
the floor board. He'd sneaked all five into his system.

And so we finally managed to get the front seat pulled forward enough so
Adam could reach the pedals and after several botched attempts we started
moving again and once he got it into either third or fourth gear we even
seemed to be moving at a fairly normal pace.

But then all at once he went, "Uh oh."

"What?" I asked.

"We're sitting on empty" he answered.

We were BELOW empty. We'd passed I don't know HOW many stations in Kansas
City but that dumb shit was so interested in finding some acid he hadn't
even thought to look at his goddamn gas gauge. And NOW we were off the
expressway out in the boonies running on fumes.

Nervously we rolled on down the highway anxiously looking for a gas
station. Then we saw what LOOKED like a station. But it was just a
convenience store. No gas. So we asked where the nearest station was.

"There ought to be one open in Ballard" said the clerk, "Just turn right
at the next crossroads. It's not all that far."

When we finally ran out of gas, we didn't know WHERE we were. So after a
little walking around to unwind, we just sat under a tree and talked. Me
and Adam. But mostly he talked. Occasionally we'd get up to check on
McAteer, but he never left the back seat and apparently spent the night
staring fixedly at the interior of the roof. Well, he was still
breathing, so the hell with him. As for where we were; like I said
already, we didn't know. We discovered a patch of woods, some fields, a
barbed wire fence and a small pond. There wasn't a house in sight and we
didn't see any no trespassing signs.

What did he talk about? Well, he started getting high shortly after
school started last fall. Didn't effect his grades any, but in late May
his mom found it in his room and the shit hit the fan. So now he was
living with his grandparents. His mom THOUGHT she was sending him off to
some damn military school this fall. But she wasn't. She wasn't sending
him ANYwhere. He'd just go to a community college for a year. And if his
dad wouldn't take him in, he could just take care of himself. Which just
shocked the hell out of me. And I got an erection. I swear, I can get
erections over MORE THINGS...

So I have no idea when we finally dropped off by the side of that little
pond and I also have no idea when it was I woke up, but the sky was just
starting to turn pink. But the REASON I woke with a start was that I'd
just had another wet dream, only THIS dream was about McAteer! Why HIM? I
really have no idea, but I still did.

But you know how dreams are, so I don't guess it matters why we were
walking through a cow pasture, we just were. And I was wearing PAJAMAS.
Why was I in PAJAMAS out in the middle of a cow pasture? Well, no matter
what the reason, I still was even though McAteer was wearing his normal
clothes. Then for some reason we started running at breakneck speed and I
suddenly discovered that I didn't have my pajama bottoms on! What
HAPPENED? Oh gosh. I just thought of this. It happened because I feel
guilty about what we did to Adam last summer. Even if it wasn't my idea,
I should have said, "No! How would you feel if somebody ran your shorts
up the flagpole?" Even if that's what we DID do. Because we had to. But I
was GLAD. But now I'm finding myself becoming emotionally attached to him
and I hope he doesn't find out the truth! (And by the way. He hasn't made
any mention of that. Yet.)

Well, whatever. In my dream I was slightly ahead of McAteer. So I
remember being concerned with two things. First, my shirt was too short,
barely covering my midsection, so I was trying to keep it from flying up
because that was ALL I had on. Which was concern number two. It seemed to
me that if he were to see that I was naked except for that shirt he would
think the very worse. I remained slightly ahead of him but try as I
might, I could never get out of his sight and I was becoming increasingly
concerned that possibly he'd seen my shirt fly up from behind, which of
course would mean that he already knew. (But deep down I knew there was
hardly any way he COULDN'T have known.) I continued to glance back at
him. He seemed very determined. So after awhile I reached a barbed wire
fence. I got through without any complications, but he got his pants
caught. And as he struggled to get free, his pants started tearing. Then
all of a sudden they ripped apart and his dick flopped out and I shot
off.

I was shocked. And disappointed. I mean if I'm going to have a wet dream,
you would think it would at least be about somebody I WANTED to see
naked. But there was nothing I could do about it, and at any rate,
whether it involved Adam or Matthew or Heidi, the result was the same. I
had a mess in my shorts so I guessed I might as well get cleaned up. And
so I quietly tiptoed down to the pond, hurriedly undressed and waded out
with my undershorts in hand.

And I'd gotten them almost decent when from behind me... "Hey, J.J., do
you know what time it is? What you doing, anyway?"

So what would you think if you'd just woke up and you saw somebody
squatting out in the pond with water just about up to his bottom without
his clothes on? It wouldn't look real normal would it? Especially if that
person quickly and guiltily glanced back over his shoulder, almost losing
his balance in the process, and then stammered out the first thing that
came into his pitiful little mind which turned out to be "I... I'll be
done in a minute."

Without turning around, I stood up as coolly as was possible in light of
the stupid words that had just escaped my mouth, guiltily holding my wet
shorts hopefully out of sight wondering what I was supposed to do with
them. I couldn't drop them in the water, they'd float.

He said, "Hey, you're not coming out now, are you? Wait up, I'm about to
join you."

That eased my mind a little. I mean after all, if you catch somebody
acting weird without his clothes on, you don't normally join him.

Then he wondered, "You washing up? How's the water?"

THERE was an explanation. Almost. Still keeping my back turned, I waded
further out. "Yeah, I... It's sorta cold..."

Oh shit. I might as well tell him. Did I think I was unique or something?
Did anyone have any control over their dreams? No!! So wasn't that better
than having him wonder if I went to the bathroom in my pants?

"Actually, I had one of those wet dreams" I said lamely.

Having made my explanation, I guessed I might as well hang my shorts on a
limb, so I looked down, tossed my shorts on the bank and headed back in.
I looked down because Adam was just then stepping out of HIS shorts.
There's little use in denying that I wanted another look at his dick, but
I didn't want him to be aware of that. But then carefully averting one's
eyes is no way to act either.

There was a slight tremor in his voice. "Yeah, I know all about that.
I've had a few myself. And I don't know about you, but I NEVER wake up
without a hard-on. Never!" He laughed self-consciously and began wading
out. It dropped off very quickly, and all at once he was in about up to
his chin. "God damn! It's cold!" he screamed. Then he started swimming.

Oh, I noticed. How could I NOT? And it looked just as interesting as it
had last year. And I'm not sure, but it just might be bigger after all.


I quickly surface dived myself. And then I started a water fight. Why in
the HELL I did that, I don't know, because I almost always end up losing,
but I did anyway. So pretty soon he just about drowned me with a splash
that made it sound like I was under water for a moment, then briefly I
could see again and then he dunked me under. And there's a difference
between almost being almost drowned by a wall of water and about to
REALLY drown. I HATE being dunked. If someone HOLDS me under, I panic. I
must've drowned in a previous life. I was probably a heretic and they
tied me me to a boulder and threw me in. But when I panic, I usually end
up swallowing a lot of water. And that just makes things worse, of
course.

I've thought about it a lot, in fact, I've nearly analyzed it to death by
now. So OK. I HAD to get to the surface. But WHY was he holding me under?
He was trying to DROWN me!! (You're not usually rational while drowning.)
THEN there was that other thing and I was slammed right up against it. I
don't mean that in a figurative sense at all and it's a wonder I DIDN'T
drown. I was suddenly up against him and trying not to drown or not, I
was very much aware of that. Well, fear of death does heighten one's
awareness. For instance I noticed it had gone soft. Because not only was
he pressed right up against me, I was also flailing away so I couldn't
help sometimes hitting it, nor did I really care, except I DID. Picky,
picky. I'm about to drown and I'm afraid he was going to get the wrong
impression. (Or the RIGHT impression.) Well, whatever. But I still had
hopes of NOT drowning. I'd thought I was going to die before, like the
time I jumped on Linfesty's hood and he floored it, at least 40 mph I'll
bet he was going through the school parking lot making like he's in the
fucking slalom and me hanging on by my fingernails practically, do you
have any IDEA what it's like to barely be hanging on, sliding around on
the hood of a car going that speed? You don't appear to be going slow,
that's for damn sure and yes, I was certain I would soon be flung off and
away, I could almost feel my broken body sliding along the pavement and
WHAP into one of those cement things cars park up against, then THUD into
a light pole and do you know my sphincter never even let go? It about did
though, because I was about to lose my grip and I guess if it went, then
so would my sphincter before I even hit the pavement and was run over.

But about the being held under. Well, I think what I had during those few
moments; it couldn't have been much longer; was a classic case of sensory
overload.

When I broke to the surface, I was gasping and I think I was crying. I
couldn't see except for a blur and I couldn't hear anything but a big
booming roar. I don't even remember getting to shore, but I recall being
on my hands and knees, retching and shaking all over.

And then somewhere Adam entered the picture again, patting me on my back
and going, "J.J.! What's wrong? Hey! Are you all right? What did I do? I
didn't mean to... what did I do? I'm sorry... you OK?", which just beats
the hell out of trying to drown me. So added to every feeling distinctly
remembered; the fear gradually ebbing away and the anger I was trying to
force back inside and all the shame and desire that kept lurking at the
edge; and I should add that for a minute or so I was physically sick; but
to all that was added a huge flood of relief. Oh, and I was still worried
about him getting the "wrong" idea, not to mention McAteer should he have
happened by. McAteer WOULD have gotten the wrong idea, no doubt about it.
By the time I started getting it back together Adam and I were sitting
side by side up against each other and he was sort of alternately rubbing
and squeezing my shoulders and I was leaning my head on his shoulder. I
was thinking, "Damn, this is nice. I wonder if we could do this without
my almost drowning first? But if McAteer were to happen by..."

So kind of shaky like and with deep regret I said, "Well, maybe we ought
to get dressed. I'm OK now."

I know it doesn't HAVE to be that complicated. With some people it seems
like there's about as much thought as might occur between rabbits, but
with me it's always a fucking morality play. Sometimes I think it does
make it more interesting though. It really does.

We finally made it back to Kansas City around one that afternoon.
(Obviously that day's tournament in Joplin was kaput.) Soon as we found a
motel, McAteer went to sleep and we had to walk to the course.
Fortunately it was only about a mile.

We practiced till around six, then walked BACK to the motel. McAteer was
still asleep. Apparently he slept about 24 hours straight. So he didn't
play Sunday either.

But before he crashed he DID rent a VCR and two adult movies for us to
watch when we got back. Adam noticed adult movies and VCRs were available
for rent at the office when we checked in, so he wondered if McAteer
could maybe rent us a couple. So McAteer said he didn't care, he was
going to sleep but if we wanted to beat off watching fuck movies, it was
OK by him.

My opinion of XXX movies has been previously stated, although I'll admit
to viewing a couple of variations that were pretty interesting. All the
same, I spent over half the time composing letters to the Legion of
Decency, in the vein of...

"Dear Brother Sanctimonious Prick,

I just wanted to write you in support of your fight against pornography,
especially the sort of filth that can be transmitted via cable into our
very homes. Oh, I've heard all the arguments of those whining, secular
humanist, reedy-voiced, pinko, liberal communist sympathizers!

`Well, nobody MAKES you watch HBO' say they.

In reply to that, I say `Bah!'

`Well nobody makes you even subscribe to HBO' say they.

And again I must say, `Bah!' And `bah' again! And just what do they have
to say in regard to my neighbors, their passions inflamed by language,
nudity and strong sexual content? I was an innocent child, Brother S.P.!
I did not even know what a lady's private parts looked like!

But enough of that. My parents of course will not let me visit my
neighbors with cable, but not long ago, while on an outing with my 4-H
club which required an overnight stay at a motel, I was victimized by an
aerial bombardment of language, nudity and strong sexual content that
would make even HBO blush. Brother S.P., there are ladies of the night
with HAIR down there and something else that... well, never mind. It was
awful and I walked the corridor outside our motel room for hours, Brother
S.P., simply for HOURS! I do not think I will ever get over it."

OR...

"Dear Brother S.P.,

I am a father against pornography. If I may, I would like to share with
you an effective way of combating this insidious iniquity while it is yet
at an incipient stage in one's own home. We MUST nip it in it's
incipiency, for if we do not, it will become inextirpable! Recently I
discovered in my daughter's room a picture of naked men AND women! In the
very SAME picture! Well sir, I quite promptly took a horse whip to my
daughter! I chased her right out of the shower. I wouldn't be at all
surprised if she wasn't practicing auto-eroticism while in there. Perhaps
she thought she was safe. Well sir, she had another think coming!

`But daddy!' she squealed as she fled my righteous wrath with her fairly
large breasts bouncing wildly all over the place, `It's a Rembrandt!'

Rembrandt, eh? That pervert deserves nothing less that to be locked up!
He should severely whipped! He should be drawn and quartered! Those
people were naked! Naked is naked, pornography is pornography, and sin is
sin!

Over the couch and under the bed went my daughter but implacable was I. I
dragged that naked hussy out from under that bed, spread-eagled her
across the kitchen table, tied her securely and turned her buttocks rosy
red, I'll tell you what! Do you know that they bounce almost like Jello?

And that's the last I've seen of naked pictures in my house! And that's
also the last I've seen of my daughter."

Well, enough of that. Adam watched both of those movies from start to
finish, although after awhile he did fast forward past the parts that
featured ladies with unduly large knockers. I'm glad we seem to think the
same on this. And his reaction to some of the closeups of their plumbing
was interesting as well. As in, "That's gross!"

"Yeah" I said, "It looks like a venus flytrap or something."

"You know what? I think that's a fairly accurate description" said Adam.

Oh, and HERE'S an interesting one. He ended up fast forwarding through
almost all of movie #1 because all the men in it were super hairy. You
know, chest, BACK, ass, all that... and Adam said, "I just can't relate
to this at ALL. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Me neither" I said.

But then in movie #2, some of the males weren't nearly as hairy, and he
didn't fast forward past them at all. But maybe it was only because he
COULD relate, I have no idea really. Me, I noticed a couple; one sort of
resembled Ray Kohle in fact; but of course I didn't let on.

Anyway, once those movies were finally over he went into the bathroom,
locked the door and took a shower. He stayed in there for about fifteen
minutes. But that's OK, I took my shower and beat off about half way
through the first movie, although it shouldn't come as a surprise to
learn that I wasn't thinking about the movie.

When he finally came out in his sky blue BIKINI briefs I was in bed
watching some TV evangelist and cussing at him.

But very calmly I asked him, "You feeling better now?"

"Why yes, I do" he answered. "Now move your little ass over a little. You
mind telling me why you're watching that shit?"

I told him I didn't really know why I was watching it, but if he wanted
to turn the TV off, I'd just go to sleep.

Of course I never asked him when he decided to stop wearing pajamas and I
sure never got around to asking how he got up the nerve to start wearing
sky blue BIKINI underwear. I wouldn't have the nerve to wear something
like that, no way. But WOW! It accentuated things. And it was all moving
around as he walked. Awfully tempting. And then as he jumped into bed
beside me I noticed I could see the bottom of his ass cheeks. So it took
some will-power to not start playfully wrestling on him. In FACT, I
decided I needed to take another quick shower at that point, and it
didn't take very long at all.

Right now I'd really be scared to try anything, but still, I think it
helped that I jerked off, because I was able to keep my hands to myself
and not roll over on his side of the bed. In fact, it wasn't long until I
actually went to sleep. It had been a very long day.

By Sunday afternoon I was even happier. I placed! Tied for 2nd with an
88. (Some home course turkey shot an 83 to win.) And Adam's PPPNA debut
was also decent as he placed too. He picked up $130 for his efforts, but
he got beat in the semifinals of match play, so he didn't qualify. (I got
beat in the first round. Another local.)

Oh, and by the way. he LOVED my imaginary letters to the Legion of
Decency. And he wondered if maybe I'd written anything else like that.
(Yes!) Well, you know, later.

So anyway, I think this is working out much better than if I had just
hung out with Austin all summer, which I guess I would've if he'd come
back when he said he was. And guess that concludes my report on the
weekend.


Wednesday, June 22nd... I'll tell you about last night in part 10, but it
might be a little while before I get to it, because I'm about to go back
to fantasyland. Which would be in "Getting Kicked Out of the House".
(Located in the adult-youth section. That was an editorial aside.) But
I'm not going to fantasyland because of anything bad happening, I'm going
because I'm feeling horny right now. Having a butt plug up your hole can
do that. Last night was really great, but THURSDAY night should be
downright unforgettable. So I want to include both last night and
Thursday night in one chapter, that's all.

I tried practicing at #5, but that butt plug made it a bit problematic. I
was at least SEMI-hard the whole time I was out there. And there might be
something in our official rule book about that. Soo... until late
tomorrow afternoon I'll just write some more stuff for "Getting Kicked
Out". Part 4 is pretty much completed already. I'm working on part FIVE
now. Which might be a doozy. (So if you want to check over there, that
would be great.)



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