Drummer Boys By Kevin Carson
This story is about my relationship with my friend and, well, much, much more-than-a-jack-off buddy. Yes, it includes gay teen sex stuff. It's based on true experiences but some of the names and places have been changed for privacy. Hey, if this is illegal where you're at or if you're too young to be reading this, then you better not. Getting in trouble isn't cool. All rights reserved. No reproductions permitted without prior permission. Copyright 2007.
Thanks to everyone who has written to me. I really appreciate your comments/feedback and questions about this story. My email is: kc.drummerboy@yahoo.com.
Sincerely, -kevin.
Part 34.
Ahh! The element of surprise! Getting caught... words can't describe it, to say the least. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but no. That feeling... it overwhelms you... the sweaty hands... the goosebumps... the aching dryness in your throat. And the pain in your gut... it's like you've been punched. And like a jolt of electricity going through your body... the shock... an electric shock. Plus, the fear factor... and the embarrassment!
But, shit happens, and even though I've had my share of getting caught before -- and taken by surprise -- you never ever completely get used to it. Not me anyway.
"M-... M-... M-..." I stuttered. Actually, it was worse than stuttering. It's like my jaw was broken.
"Yeah... you heard me... I said there's more where that came from!"
"B-b-but... i-i-t's n-not what you th-th-think!"
"It's not?? What's not? I walk in here and you're holding a bottle of whiskey, and you just finished swallowing a mouthful of it. What's so hard to understand about that? You were drinking! And I caught you!! Gotcha!!"
"N-n-ot really... I mean, I w-was, but... Oh shit!"
"Oh shit's right... but, look... I don't care, really, I don't."
"But M-M-Ma... Ma... Mar..." I kept mumbling, not quite able to get it all out...
"Oh, Jesus Christ, sweetie, now get over it... where's your backpack?"
I was frozen, I couldn't move. I mean I couldn't fucking move! "W-w-what??"
"Come on! Get a grip already. It's just a little scotch. And it's just me... what the fuck's the big deal? Now give me your backpack."
"W-w-why?? A-a-and why'd you call me `sweetie'??"
"Oh Jesus, will you shut up already and give me your damn backpack?"
"But why? I don't have anything in there..."
"Good! That's even better! Like I said, if you think that Johnnie Walker is something, there's plenty more for ya!"
"Wait!" I screamed, like a stubborn child. "You can't call me `sweetie'! Only one person is allowed to call me that, so you better stop!" I warned.
"Ooooh!! We're getting tough, now, aren't we??!"
"L-l-look, just please don't call me that, OK? I-I-I don't like nicknames."
"Alright... you can cut the sensitive crap..."
"Just call me `Kevin,' OK?" That'll be fine," I interrupted.
Marcie, fully dressed for once, gave me the weirdest look, like I was insane telling her not to call me sweetie'... to call me by my real name. I shouldn't have said anything, because it was weird anyway, her walking in on me. Forget about having to explain that Mark is the only person who's allowed to call me sweetie.' Of all people and of all times to get caught. But I suppose it could have been worse. She could have walked in on me jerking off... not that I ever did anything like that in the potting shed. Really -- I never did... honest!! But I admit to having thought about it a few times!
"Alright... `Kevin'..." Marcie rolled her eyes at me as she stood on a wooden crate to boost herself a little higher. She moved some cardboard boxes out of the way on the shelf above us and started handing down more bottles of liquor... vodka, Jack Daniels, and some kind of fancy coconut rum. "Here, don't just stand there with your hands in your pants... grab these!"
I lined the bottles up on the workbench like it was a bar, not saying a word, at first. Then I watched as Marcie wrapped them loosely in newspaper and put them in my bookbag, one by one. Finally, I spoke up... "What are you doing?
"What's it look like I'm doing?"
"Are you giving those to me?"
"Sure am!"
"No you're not... you can't do that! I can't take these!"
"The hell you can't!"
"No... I mean... I'm underage!"
"Well, that sure as fuck didn't stop you from taking a nip of my mother's scotch a few minutes ago, now did it??"
"That wasn't what you thought... I don't drink, I just wondered what it tasted like since I never had it before, that's all. I was just curious... I found that bottle hidden in the toolbox."
"Well too bad... you're taking these. I don't care what you do with them... just get them out of here!"
"Why?? So your drunk-ass mother won't find them and drink it?"
"Boy, you are a little smart-ass, aren't you?? But, yes, that's exactly why. She'll find it. And she'll drink it. That's a problem."
"Well that won't stop her. She can always just go out and buy more."
"And if she does, I'll hide that, too... and then get rid of it." That was Marcie's plan. "But it's too good to pour down the drain... so put it to good use, sweetie... I mean `Kevin,' even if you are underage." Just then Marcie looked down at my crotch and raised her eyebrows. "But you look like you're big enough to me!" she smiled. She's such a slut.
"You're trying to get me in trouble, aren't you? Well it won't work!"
"Umm... you're already in trouble, `sweetie'... I'm trying to save your ass!"
"I'm not in trouble, Marcie. I haven't done anything wrong. Your dad likes me. I do a good job working here... he told me."
"Yeah, well whatever..."
"I mean it... you'd be in more trouble than me! I AM underage, you know. All I have to do is tell my Dad that you gave me all of this whiskey and stuff...and you'll be in a shitload of trouble... for corrupting a minor!"
"Haha... WRONG!!" Marcie laughed sarcastically. "Umm... remember... I walked in on YOU and saw YOU drinking... and I saw YOU putting the booze in your bookbag. I caught YOU red-handed! So don't think you're gonna pull any shit on ME!"
I was really sweating... nervous and frustrated... and very intimidated, but I was holding my own. "Look, Marcie, this has gone too far... I'm not gonna say anything, OK? But what am I gonna do with all of this? I mean, I don't really even like this stuff."
"Give it to your dad... he drinks, doesn't he? Looks like he does. I've seen him before, your dad. He's hot. I'd do him."
"Oh you gotta be kidding! You're out of control! That's my Dad!" I swear that confirms it...she IS a slut! Dad wouldn't touch her... at least I don't think he would. God, I hope not!!
"Alright, look, July 4th... you got plans?"
"Well, yeah, we're going to Fire Island. Our friend's aunt and uncle have a place in Ocean Beach and they invited us... why?"
"Who's `us'?"
Old Marcie was pretty annoying at this point, but I thought it was best to answer her questions straight out instead of being a smartass. She's nowhere near as bad as Emily, but she was no dummy, and I wasn't gonna take any chances she'd make my life even more of a living hell. "My best friend Mark, and me, and some of our other friends from school. Why?"
"Duh!!?? Any girls gonna be there?"
"Well, yeah, sure. Why?"
"Here's what you do: get em drunk and take advantage of em! Be a man!!"
"Umm, excuse me?? Did you just tell me to get a girl drunk and have sex with her??"
"Yeahhhh!!! Quite a concept, huh??"
"OK, you really are nuts. I'm outta here..." Marcie grabbed my arm firmly. "Let go of me!!" I snapped.
"You're taking this," she said, with clenched teeth, shoving my booze-filled backpack at me. "Just take it... and not a word... to anyone! Got it??" she demanded firmly, almost mean.
"Got it..." I complied, and I got on my bike and left.
When I got home I basically tried to avoid Dad, but still managed to shout out a quick "Hey!" to him as I grabbed a can of Mountain Dew from the fridge. I ran straight up to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. And then I drank the Mountain Dew to settle my stomach, which was in knots. The next thing I did was get in the shower... after I hid my bookbag and all the booze in my closet. I felt so dirty. Not actually physically dirty, even though I had worked up quite a sweat during my encounter with hot Marcie in that damn little shed. But I was emotionally dirty. One peep out of Marcie about all of this and I'd be in the same position as Townsend... or my brother... having stuff I shouldn't and keeping it so no one else knows.
While I was in the shower I started to get hard because I couldn't help but have Mark on my mind. It's unavoidable, getting hard, because when I touch my dick... even to piss... I think of Mark. And when I think of Mark, in any context or situation, I pop wood and have to touch it!
Yet, I was still thinking about the new situation I was in -- about Marcie and the booze -- and couldn't decide if I was going to tell him or not. I mean, I know I can trust him, that's not the issue. And he'd tell me the right thing to do. That wasn't the problem. I just didn't want to involve him in MY problem. So I just left it alone...
Well, speaking of my boyfriend... he was in my room waiting for me when I walked in after my shower, with my towel around my waist and still half hard! "Hey!" I smiled. "I saw you licking your lips!"
"Damn straight, sweetie! Why don't you lose the towel??!!"
"Haha! You wish! How about if you just sniff my undies??"
"Shit, I thought you'd never ask!" I threw my boxers at him and he took me up on the offer. Mark closed his eyes as he held my underwear to his nose. "Damn!!"
"You're a horny bastard, aren't you!" I teased.
"It's your fault!"
Not a whole lot more was said. Mark won! Two seconds later I was on my back, sprawled across my bed, legs far apart. Mark bobbed up and down on my pole while gently squeezing my nuts with one hand and probing my ass with the other. God it felt great!
But I was nervous. "We better stop," I whispered. "My Dad's downstairs."
"No, he's not. He was just leaving when I got here and he told me to come on up and wait for you."
"Oh... well, I'm sure Keith will be walking in any second..."
Mark sort-of ignored what I said and continued sucking me. And he wasn't quiet about it either. I love the wet, slurping sounds he makes, it's such a turn on. I swear I could cum without touching my dick, just hearing him slurp! But I was nervous as hell and Mark could tell. Despite all his work, I was only half hard.
"What's wrong, bud? I wanna finish you off..."
"I'm sorry, it's just been kind-of a rough day for me."
"I know... you don't seem like yourself."
"Can we just, I dunno... go downstairs and chill?"
"Sure thing sweetie... anything you want..."
We no sooner got downstairs and were looking for snacks (Cheez-its and Mountain Dew for Mark; just the Mountain Dew for me), and Keith came home. The three of us mumbled "hey" to each other, but that was about the extent of the conversation.
I hadn't told anyone about the fight Keith and I had, not even Mark. And I was hoping Dad hadn't noticed that Keith and I were on the outs. If either of them had picked up on anything, they'd start questioning me and I'm not a very good liar. Believe me, I've tried... lying that is, and getting cornered and caught lying, especially by my father would be seriously undue pressure. I didn't need that. It would drive me to drink for sure!
I hoped that by now, after somewhat of a cooling-off period, maybe Keith and I could maybe sorta get back to normal someday. At least we had been trying to be cordial to each other in front of Dad. The only thing Dad said to me during the week was we both seemed a little moody.
However, even though I hadn't said anything to Mark, he sensed something wasn't quite right between Keith and me. He can read me like a book and sorta did his own prodding into the situation, which I knew he would do but was hoping he wouldn't. Keith disappeared and the questions started...
"Jeez, sweetie, what's with you and Keith? You guys don't even look at each other, let alone talk. What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on. What do you mean????"
"Are you two having some kind of a problem?"
"Problem?? No... not really..." I shrugged my shoulders, like no big deal.
"Come on, sweetie. You were standing right next to each other a minute ago and you avoided him like he's got some kind of disease."
"Well he does have a disease... `fucked-up brain' disease. But, I mean, there's no problem," I said, matter-of-factly.
"Yeah, right. The tension is so thick between you two, I can feel it. Did you guys get in a fight or something?"
"No... no... I mean, we're OK. I think."
"You think?? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"Uh... nothing. It's fine. It's just, I guess he's been in a bad mood lately. I dunno, maybe he hasn't gotten any pussy in a while... haha!"
"Watch it, sweetie, that's my sister you're talking about!"
"Oh God, like you don't know!"
"I DO know! She's fucking the living shit out of him... but she's still my sister. Come to think of it, she's also been a little bitchy lately, for no reason."
"OK then, moving right along..."
"Wait a minute, Kev... do you think Keith and Lisa aren't getting along? Jeez, I hope they're not breaking up. I mean, she would have said something to me, I'm sure."
"Relax. It's probably nothing like that at all. I bet it has nothing to do with Lisa. Your sister's cool. Shit, I love her almost as much as I love you!"
"Yeah, she's alright I guess."
"You GUESS?? Shit, I'll trade ya... you can have Keith for an older brother, and well, if Lisa were my sister, I'd love that!" I really tried my best to steer the conversation away from Keith and me. And thank God Mark had enough sense to let it go. We sat around the family room for a while... channel surfing between ESPN and Real World... Mark stuffing that beautiful face of his with those damn cheese crackers and sucking on a Mountain Dew. I should have been stuffing MY face with his big cock and sucking on THAT!!!!
Then suddenly, Mark hit me up with the best idea ever! "I know!" He was so excited. "Why don't we just get in the car and drive somewhere?? Anywhere! Maybe out towards Riverhead or someplace. We could camp out for a couple of nights, you and me, no one else! I gotta get you out of this funk you're in... that's all I care about."
"But what about going to Fire Island?"
"We'll still go, just a day late. I mean, I hate to bail on Nora and Amy, but I'm sure they'd understand. Amy's got a car... she can drive. I'll get a hold of Eric and let him know. Believe me, sweetie, this is no problem."
"Yes it is... a problem. You gotta be 18 to camp out in any of the state or county parks. And we'll never be able to make a reservation this late, especially on a holiday weekend."
"No, it's NOT a problem, sweetie! There's a private campground, Indian Ridge... right near Indian Island park. My family's been there a lot and my dad knows the guy who runs it really well. I'll ask him to call, like right now! My dad will get us in. So get your ass ready!
"Can we really leave tonight, instead of tomorrow like we planned?" I begged.
"Anything you want! We just gotta swing by my house and get the tent and camping gear..."
"And we got food and soda and snacks here that we can take. And we got our own sleeping bags."
"Sleeping bag,' sweetie... no s' on the end... we only need one!" Mark laughed.
God damnit, I love him! While I got rid of the empty Cheez-its box and soda cans, he called his dad. Mark was right! Mr. Graham hooked us up at this Indian Ridge place... our own private campsite! Jesus... was this a dream?
Mark's last-minute change of plans really made me happy. Especially that last part, about only needing one sleeping bag! And the good news was that the Graham's tent was much bigger and way nicer than the army tents we slept in at civil war camp. But the question of what to do with the liquor Marcie made me take still wasn't answered. I didn't want to leave it at home and risk having Dad or Keith finding it hidden in my closet. So I was still a bundle of nerves. At the last second I ran back up to my room, got the bookbag and put it by my feet on the front floor of the Jeep.
As Mark and I were hastily gathering other things to take, I called Dad to tell him we were leaving now instead of tomorrow. He was fine with it... just the ususal warnings about being careful, especially with all the holiday traffic, especially on the expressway.
Ooops! Being half out-of-it as well as in such a hurry, I forgot to tell him we weren't going directly to Eric's place at Ocean Beach, but that Mark and I just taking a little side trip first. I learned my lesson last winter when we sorta did that, so I quickly called Dad back to let him know. And thank God I did! I told him about Indian Ridge and how Mr. Graham helped us with that, so Dad knew it was all legit. Gotta keep it legal, ya know!
"Alright, Kev... that's fine. I appreciate you letting me know, son, because if you hadn't told me and I'd have found out after the fact... you'd be in some BIG trouble!"
"Thanks Dad, I really mean it."
"Wait!" Dad exclaimed. "Do you have enough money?"
"No problem, Dad. I'm covered. See ya!"
"Kevin!" Dad sounded anxious. "Uhh... you and Mark... be careful... OK?"
"Don't worry, Dad... it's all good. Love you!"
Dad asking about the money reminded me I still had that check in my pocket from Mr. Lamson. We stopped at the bank so I could cash it, and that was it! We hit the road, Mark and me... him driving, of course, and me riding shotgun... passenger side! Just the way I like it... his eyes carefully on the road and mine carefully on him! Know what I'm sayin'??
As usual, I searched through Mark's CD collection. He had just gotten the new Guster CD, and I must have played the song "Satellite" eight hundred times until I knew the words by heart. I guess the song fits... I'm Mark's satellite.
He always comes up with the best ways to calm me down when I'm wound up, and camping out was a great idea. Hmmm... Mark and me in a tent... maybe we'd get to do what I thought we'd do if it had been him and me at civil war camp. But all the while I had good thoughts and fantasies about Mark, I reminisced about Townsend.
OK, so Indian Ridge was waaaaay more than I ever expected. I'd never been there before, specifically, and our site was a pretty secluded one. People with campers and trailers were in another area and Mark and I were next to the woods in the tent section. The nearest tents were about sixty feet away from us, at least. Still, if we "did anything" (which I fully planned on) we'd have to be quiet. Ha!!
After we unloaded our gear from the Jeep, we organized everything and got ready to set up the tent. I sorta scouted around the campsite for a minute and Mark returned to that Jeep to get something. He shouted over to me that I forgot my bookbag, and I sorta freaked out.
"You need this, sweetie?"
"NO!! NO!!! I don't need it!!"
"God, it weighs a ton! What'cha got in there??"
"NOTHING!! Just... leave it in the Jeep!"
"Fine!" Mark put it back and shook his head and laughed. I was a little rattled by him getting my bookbag, but I really couldn't be mad at him. Not at all. First, he really did nothing wrong, and even if he did, he can disarm me in a nanosecond with that smile of his. Shit! I love him!
You know I'm not the most outgoing person in the world, socially speaking, but Mark and I did manage to meet some of the other people camping around us. They all seemed to be really nice. A guy and a girl, who were a little older than Mark and me, were in the next tent closest to us. The girl introduced herself to me as Allie and her boyfriend, Jon. They're from the city, both students at NYU. Allie seemed fun and struck up a conversation with me before Mark came over.
"So, hey... what are you two lovebirds doing here? Just hanging for the holiday?"
For some reason it didn't strike me as odd that she called us "lovebirds," and it didn't piss me off or make me feel uncomfortable. In fact, I grinned from ear to ear. "You can tell??" I asked.
"Um... yah! I mean, I looked over there and saw you two cute little twinks pitching a tent and I just knew! I guess it's the way you look at each other. Your boyfriend's a hottie... and you're not too bad yourself! A little young for me, though."
"Well, we're not girly-boys, that's for sure!"
Jon, the stud that he seemed, was still getting stuff out of their car and looked a little lost in frustration. Just then Mark walked up to Allie and me and I introduced him. "You're not from around here, are you?" Mark asked.
For some reason I was blushing... not out of embarrassment... but out of pride. I think Mark sort-of figured out that Allie had US figured out.
"No... I'm originally from Texas... Austin, actually, but I go to NYU... third year pre-law."
"Good school." Mark said.
"Yeah, it's a long way from home, though. I miss my younger brother. He's seventeen." Allie said I reminded her of her of him a little bit. "He's gay, and really struggling, like at school. Thank God our parents are cool with it, my brother, that is. How about the two of you? Are your folks OK with you two?" she wondered.
"Well, uh, yah, it's all good... my Dad's great and he loves us both." There was a slightly awkward silence, because Mark didn't respond to that... Allie asking if our families accepted our sexuality. As strong and self-assured as Mark is, I really, really felt bad for him. Allie bounced back quickly, as if she immediately realized maybe she had crossed the line. She changed the subject, obviously getting the drift that Mark isn't out to his family.
"Hey, I know! Some of our friends are joining us a little later... why don't you two come over to our campsite and party with us a bit tonight. You guys do party don't you? Nothing major... just a little... you know!!"
"Umm... yah, we'll see!" I answered.
"Thanks!" Mark smiled. "Well, sweetie... we got a little more to do..."
We finished unpacking and setting up just as darkness fell. But, in a way, it sorta creeped me out, because it was only a few weeks ago that it was Townsend and me doing something quite similar... déjà vu! Yet, it was a good feeling that now I was with Mark. I was a little more relaxed, just being in his presence. But still, thoughts were lurking in the back of my head about certain things I hadn't told him.
The evening was still warm and sort-of humid, and all I wanted to do was get my clothes off of me and Mark's clothes off of him, and lay in that sleeping bag... him and me together. Although, I gotta say, he looked damn good in those nylon athletic shorts he had on! With the elastic waistband, I knew I'd get them off quite easily!! We both wanted him to finish what he started earlier in the day up in my bedroom, and I eagerly wanted to return the favor!
I loved the smell of burning citronella candles and the woodsy mist in the mid-summer night's air. That, somehow, along with the occasional muffled laughter of the other campers nearby, made me feel a little more at ease too. As much as Mark was determined to get me "out of my funk," I was determined to get him to relax as well. This wasn't just for me... it was for him AND me! And just as my dream with Townsend that night at civil war camp was important and revealing, this night was like a dream too... for Mark and me. It was our very own mid-summer night's dream.
Inside the tent, Mark and I both had the same thing in mind, and we giggled as we agreed we had no intentions of going over to hang out with Allie and Jon and their other friends. Allie seemed awfully nice, though. But, no thanks! Sorry!
But I did have an idea... maybe there was a way I could give the liquor to Allie, at some point. I'd be giving it away, not throwing it away, so it wouldn't be wasted. But then I thought, "no," if I gave it to her there'd be too much of a story to tell, and I didn't really want to go there. So I lost that thought, and proceeded to go about making Mark happy.
All things considered, it was pretty quiet and private and it didn't bother me a bit that we were in a tent. Not quite the wilderness, but still pretty private. And waaaay nicer than the little canvas dog tent we had at civil war camp. The Graham's take this camping thing seriously! It was dark inside, except for the small battery-powered lantern that cast a dim glow like candlelight. And just so you know, we did bring two sleeping bags... one for padding and one to sleep in. We sat there, knees up to our chests, hands under our chins... and we talked and laughed for a while. And then, we gradually touched each other, then forcefully kissed. As it so often happens we somehow managed to get our clothes off while still kissing. Mark's tongue in my throat is something I crave. And really, except for him... I'm not much of a kisser.
"We can't be loud," I whispered.
"I'm not... mmm... worr... mmm... ied..." Mark said, between his slurping, wet smooches and licks.
He was on top of me, doing to me what only he can do. And we didn't have to wait a few more nights for fireworks, either! My hands were under that elastic waistband of his shorts in no time, and I grabbed his ass and pulled him in to me. Mark's throbbing cock was grinding into my own and we never stopped kissing. "Oh God!" I moaned, getting those shorts down as fast as I could. He rose up just enough to undo the snap and zipper on my cargo shorts and pull them down, letting my cock spring loose. We both somehow finished slithering out of our clothes, and Mark was back on top of me. Our bodies were slippery with salty sweat, and he slid his bare chest across mine, up and down, around and around, as we continued to kiss, feel, lick and grind.
Mark sat up and pulled my legs up around his waist... with his massive baseball-bat cock between my legs, nudging my balls and asscrack. He jacked me for a bit, but as soon as I felt I was getting ready to explode I pulled away... I didn't want either one of us to cum too soon.
I got on my knees and pushed him on his back and licked the sweat off his abs, lightly biting and playing with his nipples. I couldn't resist rubbing my face all over his stomach, all the way down to his beautiful hard pole. I took a moment to sniff his pubes and lick his balls... then I grabbed his dick and jacked it with my right hand. I sucked gently on the head, while probing his hole with the middle finger on my left hand. Then I got the lube, and that made it a hell of a lot easier to finger fuck! I jacked and sucked him, and jacked myself off too. Soon Mark started to buck and jerk like he was having a seizure, whisper-screaming, "Oh fuck! Oh shit!! Oh oh oh...!!!" That's when I pumped him and myself harder and faster, while still sucking furiously...
Then we did explode! Fireworks!!! Magic!!! It was awesome... I saw stars! He came first, all over my tongue, chin and hand... what a mess! God, I loved it. But soon it was my turn to spew the inevitable... shot after shot of my hot cream vaulted in an arc, landing on Mark's stomach. I was panting, my longish brown hair drenched with sweat... droplets streaming down my face, dripping everywhere. Mark giggled and rubbed his fingers around in the jizz that covered his tummy. After I caught my breath and stopped panting, I giggled too.
"Shit! What a fucking mess!! I love it!!" I proclaimed. Mark reached over and got his t-shirt to clean us up with. "Gimme that!" I demanded. "Let me wipe the sweat off my face before you mop up all the cum." We giggled again.
After a few minutes we both scooted our asses into our shorts (forget the underwear) and went outside the tent to cool off. "Diet Coke or Mountain Dew?" Mark asked, reaching into the cooler...
I just smiled at him, not really answering him verbally, but with my smile. I had grabbed his iPod, and draped the earbuds around my neck, just so we could faintly hear the music. "Thanks," I said. "I love you."
"I love you too, sweetie! And I love that song... "Sometimes" by My Bloody Valentine... it's hot."
We stood there, in the open night, under the starry mid-summer night sky... damp hair, bare-chested, wearing only our shorts, I'm sure reeking of sex. We cooled off as we drank our sodas, arms around each other's shoulders. We grew silent as we gazed into the sparkly darkness above us. One star up there was larger and waaaay brighter than all the others... a different kind of satellite...
And then we both knew our mid-summer night's dream came true. It was Townsend.
(To be continued...)