Chapter 24: The Spectrum
We sauntered along the dark path through the humid, stultifying woods, Dan, Adam and I.
"So was everyone in the camp waiting for me to make a pass at Dan, or what?" I asked.
"Naw," said Adam. "We just saw it coming from the start."
"How?"
We walked in silence for a few steps. Finally, Adam said, "you ever read the Kinsey Report?"
"Of course," I replied. Human Sexual Behavior, 203. Nancy Thompson. Great prof.
"So he comes out with this scale, right? Zero to six, where zero is entirely straight, and six is entirely gay. He says that orientation is analogic, not digital, and he finds out that most guys fall between one and five, right?"
"Sure," I said. "Sexual orientation as a spectrum. Gay and straight aren't opposites, just opposite ends of a spectrum. It was the beginning of the end of the concept of homosexuality as disease. Important study. Still holds up today."
"Right," continued Adam. "Well I got this theory of my own. It's like there's this spectrum of dominance - just like Kinsey's, but about domination. So there are zeros - guys or girls who are, like, totally dominant, and there are sixes - guys and girls who are totally submissive. You following me?"
Indeed, I was. It was brilliant, actually. A whole new paradigm with which I could view my studies. "Yeah," I said after silently gulping at the importance of his idea, "I'm following you."
"Okay. So most people are between one and five, right? But just like with Kinsey's thing, every once in a while you get a real zero, or a real six."
"And Dan's a zero?" I asked.
"Big time," Dan replied.
"And I'm a six?"
"Champ," said Adam, laughing, "you're a ten."
We got to the lake, and the two boys stripped bare. The thunderheads that had built up in the afternoon hadn't dissipated yet, so it was hard to make out any features in the darkness.
"Raft and back?" Dan asked.
"You're on," Adam replied. Within a split second, they were in the water, racing for the raft. I heard swimming, I heard a shout or two, I heard the two near simultaneous thuds as their hands struck the raft, but mostly I heard determined competition. In no time, they were at the shore again, panting wildly.
"Who won?" I asked.
"Doesn't matter," said Dan and continued to regain his breath.
I took off my clothes, made my way to the shore, and waded out to water that was above my head. The water was glorious - cold, refreshing, rejuvenating. The boys swam out to me, and the three of us treaded water contentedly.
"No snappers in this lake, are there?" I asked.
"Don't really know. Could be that..." The end of that sentence was drowned out entirely by my shriek. A set of pincers had come out of nowhere and clamped onto my dick. Dan's hysterical laughter clued me into the fact that it wasn't a turtle.
"Fuck you!" I cried happily, "and your little dog, too!" With a grand, downward sweep of my arms coordinated with a mighty scissors kick, I lifted myself two-and-a-half full feet out of the water and came down directly on Dan's head, pushing him by the shoulders under the surface.
The boys may have been perfection on the gym floor, but water was my element. For twelve boring summers, my folks took me every day it wasn't raining to the beach where they left me to fend for myself while they pursued their cherished dream of acquiring melanomas before they turned fifty. In the words of Shelly Winters in The Poseidon Adventure, in the water, I was a very skinny lady. I held Dan under by his trapezius muscles, waiting for the jerk that came when the victim began to want some air. That was the clue to let go. But the jerk never came. Under for an absurdly long time, he went all limp in my hands and began to sink. In a panic, I dove after him.
Of course, it was a ruse. I had, once again, forgotten the lung capacity of a gymnast in training. Under the water, he took me by the wrist, turned me in a classic lifesaving move and returned to the surface with me safely and securely incapacitated in a cross-chest carry.
"Fuck who?" he said.
"Fuck you!" I laughed. He rolled sideways, which had the effect of dunking me while keeping him above water. He rolled back.
"Who?" he said again.
"Asshole!"
Another roll. This time he kept me under for ten seconds before allowing me to breathe again.
I spluttered, blowing the water away from my mouth and nose before laughing again. I could feel my ass buoyed on the smooth skin of his hip, his warm, full bicep tightly straddling my chest. I wasn't getting loose. That's the whole point of the cross-chest carry. It's a way to bring panicking drowning victims to safety.
"Whooo?" he said, giving me another chance.
"Your dog. Fuck your dog!" I was laughing so hard I wasn't able to take the deep breath I knew would be necessary for the punishment to come. When I couldn't take the asphyxia any longer, I tapped his hip with my elbow in the universal, "okay, I'm drowning now," symbol. He brought me back to the surface, where I gulped some air.
"You win!" I cried as soon as I could, "Okay, okay, okay. I give."
He relaxed his hold, but didn't let me go. With a few of his scissors kicks, we were gliding through the water. I relaxed on him, enjoying the chilling rush of water over my shoulders and the way his thigh swept my ass with each kick. His hand moved down from my armpit to a looser grip on my ribcage, where I felt his fingers spread out over my skin. If the water weren't so cold, I'd be very, very hard.
"So this is what it's like being saved, huh?"
"Y'all want another dip?" he said, laughing.
"No, sir."
"Then shut up and enjoy the ride."
And enjoy it I did. He was a strong swimmer, but, of course, he would be. He sidestroked us over to the raft where Adam was treading water and gently let me go.
"So how did you guys know about me?"
Adam answered. "I knew. Knew the first time I met you."
"How?"
"Some people go into this, like...fog around me," he said. "Not all of them. I think it's related to where they are on the scale. Some guys don't get affected at all. Others swoon."
"I swooned?"
"You fucking fainted, champ," he laughed.
I could feel myself blushing despite the water's chill. "Not many guys faint, huh?"
"Actually," he said, "you're not the first. But it's not common, no."
"Is that why you fuck some of the guys on the team and not others? They fall at different places in the scale?"
"Partly," he said.
"You mind if I ask about the other guys on the team? You mind talking about them?"
"Not at all, champ," he said, "ask away." Dan lifted himself up onto the raft and lay down on his back while Adam and I treaded water.
"So you don't have sex with Doug, right? I mean, that one's pretty easy to figure out. He a one? Or a two?"
"I don't have sex with Doug because Doug isn't gay," Adam said. "Has nothing to do with anything else."
"But he has sex with me," I protested.
"He's horny. You're here. So what? That doesn't make him gay. Trust me, champ," he said, "if it were between you and an ugly chick, Doug would go with the ugly chick."
"And has," Dan interjected, which made Adam guffaw.
"But you're nice to him and build him up because everyone thinks he's stupid, right? That's how you help him?"
"I'm nice to him because he's a friend of mine. He makes me laugh. He's fucking hysterical, you know. People don't give him a chance. You just gotta meet him where he is."
"Okay. So that's Doug. And you do Corey because he gets too big for his britches, and you want to take him down a peg?"
"I do Corey," Adam said, "because he's dying for it."
"Corey?"
"Oh, yeah. Fucked up little kid, that Corey."
"I know. Had a little altercation with him the other night."
"So I heard," said Adam.
"Fucking classic," laughed Dan. "I don't cry when I take it up the ass. Perfect. Definitely going down in the history books."
"So Corey's gay?"
"Who the hell knows? He sure likes getting fucked, though. He's kind of like you, actually."
"I'm like a seventeen-year-old know-it-all, asshole gymnast who hasn't got any manners or knows how to respect his elders? Do explain."
Adam and Dan both laughed. The swim was a marvelous idea, I was realizing.
All the trauma of the day seemed past in the cool embrace of the lake.
"Corey loves getting fucked. You should see him go. Maybe I'll invite you in sometime to watch. But he doesn't..."
"Hold on there, mister," I interrupted. "Just give me a second to process that image, will ya?"
They laughed again.
"This one's a fucking hoot," Adam said to Dan lightly. Turning back to me, he continued. "But he doesn't know he likes it yet. Kind of like you and the domination thing."
"Ah," I said, "the connection. So you fuck Corey because Corey likes getting fucked."
"Yea," said Adam, "and because it shuts him up for a while. Man, can he be an asshole! Straight or gay, that boy's a definite five. Trouble is, he thinks he's as a one!"
"Okay. So that's Corey. Eric? What's with Eric? You totally lost your cookies."
"Huh?" Dan asked.
"Later," Adam said to Dan, then to me, "you ever sat down and talked with Eric?"
"No. Just given him a couple of blowjobs, that's all. Doesn't seem the talkative type, really."
Dan chuckled. Adam said, "Oh, he'll talk all right. Sit him down and get him going. He's the fucking Energizer Bunny. Actually, I wanna be there when you do."
"How come?"
"You'll see."
"Okay," I said. "And Brad? You have Brad blow you because he's cute?"
"Man," Adam laughed, "don't you ever get tired of being wrong?"
"I was joking on that one, stud," I said, "I'm right on the money with Brad. You ready for my diagnosis?"
"Shoot."
"The Doctor of Dick has recently determined that you have Brad blow you because he's a selfish do-nothing panty-waist who would rather die of starvation than get up and make himself a sandwich."
Dan pounded the raft in glee, and Adam laughed so hard I thought he was going to drown.
"Am I close?" I asked innocently. They were still having difficulty catching their breath from their hysterics. Adam hung onto the raft and, when his giggles subsided, hoisted himself up. Dan sat up too, taking position next to him, each of them dangling their legs off the end of the raft above me as I treaded water.
"Yeah, champ," Adam said finally, wiping the water from his face, "that's pretty fucking close. How did you come to that conclusion?"
"Well," I said, "you know I have a soft spot for Brad. He's about the most perfect looking guy in the world, and he's the one that initiated me into the joys of gymnastsex."
"And now you got the jock itch?"
I laughed. "But in any of the times we played, he never lifted a finger to help, ya know?"
"Oh, yeah," said Adam, "I know. It's amazing the boy wipes himself after he shits."
"Anyway," I said, "You're not the only one who can teach people lessons. Brad won't be bothering me again for about a week."
"How's that?"
I told them the story of our recent unfortunate encounter. They laughed so hard they ran out of air.
"You got a live one, my man," Adam said,
"So it would seem," Dan replied, straightening his leg in the water. I grabbed on to his ankle, and he gave me another little ride, casually extending and retracting his leg with me attached to it.
"Just don't piss him off," Adam said.
"I won't," Dan and I both answered in unison.
On the walk back to the dorm, Adam chose a slightly faster pace than Dan did, and we fell behind him.
"Can I ask you a question," I began.
"Sure."
"This is out of total ignorance, Dan. If it doesn't come out right, don't take offense, okay? I'm trying."
"Just ask."
"Am I not supposed to try to dunk you? Is that disrespectful or something?
I mean, what am I supposed to do? Who am I supposed to be?"
He stopped and faced me in the darkness. His baritone was gentle. "You're supposed to be who you are. You're not supposed to act any way, you're not supposed to do anything. This isn't a game we're playing, Mark. It isn't role play."
"But aren't I supposed to be demure all the time?"
"No, you're supposed to be you all the time."
My silence bespoke my incomprehension. He continued.
"Listen, Mark. Your only exposure to this has prolly been at SM gay bars, right?"
"Yeah. Pretty much."
"200 old guys in leather talking about opera, right?"
I laughed in response.
"That's not what I'm about," he continued. "Those guys are into 'scenes'. That's not me. I don't play."
"So how can I be submissive if I win?"
He laughed. "You didn't win, now, did you?"
"But I might. I'll win some things."
"Then you'll win."
"That won't bother you?"
He thought for a moment how to respond, then without warning, swung his arm over my shoulder and drew me into him. His lips met mine and, still pressing forward, opened my mouth. His tongue swept out of the steppes of his mouth like Attila onto the plains of Europe. And with the same brutal result - it vanquished all before it. He ate me, my breath, my flesh, my soul. When he was finished, he broke it off as suddenly as he had started, leaving me defenseless, sacked and pillaged, at his mercy.
"You think I'm going to be threatened by your winning a game of Scrabble or two?"
"See what you mean," I said breathlessly. "Okay. So when we go dancing, I'll lead."
"I can assure you," he said, putting his arm over my shoulder and turning me down the path, "we will not be going dancing." Sliding his hand down my back, he patted my butt a couple of times before we set out with his hand around my waist.
"Good," he said. "So much for your moment of blondness."