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THE NAKED BICYCLING ADVENTURE By Ben Ezra Jacobson
Years of journal keeping has allowed access to a lot of adventures that would have been lost over the years. My best friends when growing up were Greg Whitacre, a neighbor, whose father taught at the local university with my own dad, and the Baynebridge twins, Joe and Jim...a pair of red headed hotties that lived a few blocks away. We all went to high school together and graduated together and have remained friends over the years. This story is a memory from my journal dated June 1963. At the time, I recorded seven pages about our naked bicycling adventure along an old railroad line that had been taken out of service. It subsequently had grown up with weeds and small trees along the twenty two miles between the town in which we lived and a smaller town named Elmo to the east that had only 15 living residents left. The residents of this small dying town were all older folks and none of them were prone to hiking the old rail road bed. This is how our adventure started.
June 2nd, 1963
Jim, Joe, Greg and I have planned for sometime to ride the old railroad line between our town and Elmo to the east. Since the railroad took up the rails and ties, the path is pretty smooth for walking...and years of spraying chemicals to keep down the weeds has made a path that is not too bad. Most of the part that Greg and I have hiked has been flat and the gravel is still down from the old rail bed. We walked yesterday as far as the old Russell trestle across Fish Creek, and even with the rails removed...it is an easy walk. Perhaps the railroad left the ties on the trestle in place to make it more stable, but really, I can not imagine them ever putting that old line back into service because there is hardly anyone living in Elmo anymore...except for a few old people. All the stores are closed and have been for years. As the residents have died off or moved away...the houses and buildings have been torn down or rotted to the place that they fell down. I doubt if there is hardly more than a dozen people there anymore.
Anyway, Greg and I talked about riding our bicycles from town to Elmo and back...and when we asked our parents if we could camp at the old Knob Hill Church campgrounds a mile outside of Elmo...they said they did not see any reason why we could not...considering that no one uses the old church campground anymore. I am so excited that I can hardly wait to tell Greg that Mom and Dad said yes. Of course, since they said yes, I am sure Mr. & Mrs. Whitacre will agree to let Greg go.
June 2nd P.M. Dear Journal:
I rode my bike over the Whitacre's and Greg was waiting for me on the front porch swing.
"What's up Ben? You look like you're about to explode. Has something happened", he asked excitedly?
"Yes, I asked my parents about our discussion the other day of riding our bikes to Elmo and back and they said , `Yes!"
"I know," said Greg. "Your dad called mine and discussed it this morning, and they agreed that we are old enough to make that kind of trip. He said that Juniors in High School should have enough common sense to be able to pedal a bike on an old defunct railroad line twenty miles and back."
"You Rat-Fink," I exclaimed, "You already knew?"
"Yes, and I think it is a great idea. Dad said that Professor Jacobson even said they were going to allow us to camp at the old Knob Hill Church camp ground...right?"
"Yes, but he and Mom are going to drive over there and check it out to be sure that it is not being used by anyone else," I replied. "I don't think anyone has camped there in the last ten or twelve years since the Knob Hill Church burned down. The members all come over here, that is, the ones that have not died off. The campground has grown up in tall grass...but dad said that we could take the brush hog over there and clear an area by the old railroad line. He and I thought we might do that on Saturday...and we could plan our adventure for the following Monday. There is one condition though...all of us have to be in church on Sunday."
"I am cool with that," Greg responded. "Have you said anything to Jim and Joe Baynebridge about it?"
"Not yet...I thought we could bike over there this evening and talk to them about it...What do you think? We could go after supper," I said.
"Yeah...I'll come over as soon as supper is over," Greg replied.
And so, that is the way my afternoon and evening went. The Baynebridge twins were excited about going. Mrs. Baynebridge was a little concerned about the distance and the idea of camping...but when she called my parents...they reassured her that the boys were safe with me. Trust is a wonderful element. Mom and Dad have always trusted me to make safe and intelligent decisions but that is because of the way they have taught me over the years. The Reverend says that pride is a sin...but I am proud of the trust my parents have in me.
I am weary and excited...both. Tomorrow, the four of us will get together and start planning what we will need to do to get ready for this bicycling adventure. I need a new tube for the front tire in my bike. Greg said that he needed some repairs to his bike as well. We need to get our butts in gear. Jim and Joe both got new bikes last year at Christmas...so they should be set to go. Man...this is going to be a great adventure.
June 3rd, 1963
It's raining this morning. Dad is going to help me with my new tube for my bike. Greg is taking his bike to the BIKE PLACE and having them do it. I am glad that he is excited to get the project underway. We took a quick inventory of our camping gear last night with the Baynebridge twins...and I think we have everything we need except for some kerosene for the lanterns. Dad and I are going to go mow the campground spot by the old rail line this afternoon... if the rain stops...other wise it will have to be tomorrow. It should not take more than about 30 minutes to take the Brush Hog and clear a site for the tent...but he says we need to clear a pretty good size area for moving room. He also said that clearing a good size area might discourage snakes from nosing around the tent. Greg will go ballistic if he sees a snake. Dad said he would pick up some kerosene for us this afternoon.
The plan is to drive to the campground with the gear right after sunrise next Monday...and set up the tent and put the gear inside. If any of the old wood picnic tables are sturdy enough to use, we will move it to our sight. Greg will go with me on Monday morning...to move our gear. Dad said I could use the station wagon to take the things over. There is a metal farm gate at the entrance to the old campground. It is locked and no one seems to know who has the key anymore...so we will have to carry the Brush Hog in to mow...but the good side is...that the gate will keep anyone out...unless they decide to walk in. Dad says that no one will even know we are there because it is a good walk from the gate to the old rail line.
June 3rd. P.M.
It took about 15 minutes to put a new tube in my bicycle tire. We inflated it with the air compressor and it popped into shape in seconds. Greg was by and said that his bike would be back from the BIKE PLACE on Friday. His dad is having new cables put on it and two new tires and tubes. I love the Whitacre's but they go to extremes on everything. I asked Greg once what he would do if he had a flat on the road...and he said that he would hitch hike home for help. Dad would kill me if I pulled a stunt like that.
The rain quit in the middle of the morning. What's the old saying... "rain before seven quits by eleven"...or something like that. Anyway, Dad and I went to the campground with the brush hog and had the camping spot cleared pretty quick. There was water standing at the gate...a lot of it...so we drove around to the other side and walked up the old railroad bed to the spot where we will be camping. I guess this is kind of a good idea...because there will not be tracks through the tall grass tipping off any one that campers are there in case someone should decided to nose around. It only took about thirty minutes to clear the camping spot...and just a short ways off, we found a picnic table that was still pretty sturdy and carried it over to the clearing. Dad asked if I brought a shovel to dig a latrine. I had not thought of that...must remember to bring a shovel next time over with the gear.
Greg came by after supper and we sat on the front porch swing and made a list of food we wanted to take. Mr. & Mrs. Whitacre are buying the food since dad and I cleared the camp site. It was their idea. Saves me from grocery shopping which I hate to do.
While Mom and Dad were gone this evening, Greg and I talked about whether or not to take "reading material" along. I don't have any but he does...and I told him if he could pull it off without creating any suspicion...sure, why not. He also said that he was taking an assortment of creams and lotions...you know, for sun burn and for itchy feet. He blushed and was grinning from ear to ear. Really Greg...I hope you don't get sun burned too bad there. We do not want anything to keep us from having a great bike ride and a fun couple of days. I wish we could stay longer than just over night, but I have to be home on the third day for a dentist appointment before the dentist leaves on vacation. Tough Luck.
Sunday Night:
Dear Journal: I am not going to have much time to write this evening because Greg is coming over to spend the night. I asked Jim and Joe Baynebridge too, but Mrs. B... wanted the boys home with her tonight since she is letting them go with us in the morning.
Church seemed long as I had trouble focusing on the sermon because I am too excited about tomorrows bike ride. Greg and I will take the gear over in the morning and set up the tent. We'll put the gear in the tent and then drive back here to meet Jim and Joe around 8:30 in the morning. Fortunately for us...the weather forecast is continued unseasonably cool. If the high is only around 70 degrees...it will be perfect pedaling weather. I have laid out jean shorts and a blue tee shirt. Greg asked me if I was going to wear anything under them. Well, duh...of course...the more layers, the less chaffing. If it is real cold, long pants might be a better choice and a sweat shirt over the tee shirt. Can't find my sun glasses. I don't know where I last put them...but Dad said I could take his.
I am almost too excited to sleep...but Greg has assured me that if I can not sleep...he has some ideas to keep my mind occupied. Hmmmm.
Sunday Night - Midnight
Greg is sound asleep. He was sure he would not sleep a wink because of anticipation. He chattered on and on. We both took showers and I put on a pair of black shorts to sleep in. When I climbed into my side of the bed, he was as naked as a jay bird on the other side. He reached over and started messing with me and in just a few minutes, had my shorts off and was under the covers. It did not take long. Naturally I was obliged to do the same for him. Man was he ready. After a bit...he rolled over on his side and went promptly to sleep. I can not sleep though...so it seemed like a good idea to write a few more lines in my journal...and try to get some sleep again. I am going to leave the windows open since the breeze is quite cool and since we are on the second floor... and snuggle up next to Greg. Surely sleep will come quickly...or not. He always smells like the most manly soaps and colognes...so even if I can not sleep...I can snuggle him and breath deeply. Ha.
Monday, June 7th
I woke up around 5:00 AM as the light of day was just beginning to paint the sky with blues and yellows. Greg was laying as close to me as he could get and he was at full mast, as he pressed against me. I told him that we did not have time for this kind of exercise, with so much to do...but he held me close and was not persuaded until I agreed. It did not take long. Quickly in, quickly off, quickly out...and then hit the showers. I did not protest too much because Greg is hung...and he knows how to put a smile on my face with each thrust.
We were both in the kitchen by 6:00 AM to wolf down a bit of breakfast and then to the garage to back the station wagon out and take our camping gear to the campground. I remembered to include a shovel and necessary paper after all, everyone knows that `the job is not complete until the paper work is done.' We carried the tent and gear up the railroad bed to the camp site and set up the tent and deposited the gear within. We would be back later in the day. It took about twenty minutes to drive home. When we arrived back at the house, Jim and Joe were waiting on us. We replenished the water bottles, said our "good bye's" to our parents and pedaled away.
The old railroad station was turned into a scout meeting hall after the tracks and ties were removed but there was little interest in preserving the old line for recreational purposes until just recently. The city declined to spend funds to clear the road bed for hikes and it soon grew up in weeds and small trees to the side. The gravel bed was so hard packed that it was unlikely to experience vegetation growth for some time, but we all knew that if left unattended, it would eventually succumb to overgrowth.
About a mile out of town, there were no more houses to be seen, just some farm land and a lot of timber land. We would not see a house again until we reached Elmo which at that point would be another nineteen miles. We figured three hours to get there..maybe less if we really pedaled fast. It did not seem to us like there was any reason to hurry...just take our time and enjoy the trip.
At the second mile according to the odometer on Joe Baynebridge's bike, he suggested stopping to `water the weeds'. We all agreed that that was a good idea. The four of us standing along the old road bed, appendages in hand, watered away. All three of my companions were better endowed than was I, and no one seemed in a hurry to pull themselves back together.
Greg who is always the first to come up with a new idea...suggested that we strip off naked and pedal our bikes in the buff. The Baynebridge boys began to laugh...but were the first to remove their shorts and shirts. Both had left the underwear at home. There they stood, white freckled skin, flaming red hair and nothing on but tennis shoes and socks The red pubic hair and hairy legs...made them look striking. In school the girls and boys alike were very fond of them. Although they had not expressed any interest about same gender attractions other than to Greg and myself...all of our male classmates had seen them in the school P.E. shower room and would whisper among themselves that the Baynebridge's would win first prize for size if there were ever a contest. So, back on their bikes, they were ready to go. Greg too, stripped off his shorts and tee shirt. He too had nothing under them. I removed my shirt but not my shorts and mounted my bike. They asked why I did not strip naked and I made up an excuse about one of us being clothed in case someone should walk up on us and see us. As it was, if anyone was on the old line bed but us, we were unaware of it.
We arrive at the Russell Trestle about the ten mile mark. It spans Fish Creek, a shallow creek most of the time where the water was deep enough to wade but not enough to swim. Jim and Joe were starting to get a sun burn. I had some sunburn lotion in my bike bag but they produced a plastic spray bottle with white vinegar. Joe sprayed it over Jim's body and then passed it to Jim to spray Joe. Greg laughed and accused them of traveling incognito as salads but what Greg did not know was that vinegar will take the fire out of a sunburn if it is applied at the time one is getting burned.
The trestle was about ten feet above the creek. We parked the bikes and walked beneath for a little shade. There was a cat walk under the trestle used by the railroad for inspections of the structure. It was just wide enough to allow four teenagers to stretch out on its planking for a rest. Typical of Greg, he reached over and fondled Jim's hardware and getting a rise out of him...then crawled over Jim, to fondle Joe. As he did so, Joe came to full mast very quickly. As he gave him some oral attention...his own appendage hung in Jim's face. When Jim opened his mouth...it slide right in. We all got involved and shortly...large drops of semen were falling into the water below.
In those days, there seemed to be an endless supply of testosterone stimulating us to sex play. It was not uncommon to ejaculate a half dozen times in a day. Today however...it just seemed so tantalizing to be naked outdoors with little chance of being discovered.
Because we were all sunburned to some degree or another, we put our clothing back on, including sunglasses and ball caps. Climbing back on our bikes, we resumed our adventure towards Elmo.
The old railroad bed was lined with trees that hung over the path. There had been sufficient rain during the spring to make all the vegetation lush and green. Whether or not the view interested the others, it made me feel appreciative to live in an area that was so alive. I wondered how years ago, the old steam engine trains chugged down the railway bed with passengers and supplies for the various rural towns that it bisected. For many, it would have been their sole mode of transportation. Grand dad used to talk about the railway shipping livestock and food supplies between the communities. He remembered when he was a young man, that a local ordered an automobile called a Packard with a cloth top...and it was delivered by train to his town. All the town's folk turned out to see them take it off the railway flat car. He said it was a wine red color and had a lot of chrome trim...and white wall tires that were about six inches wide. Now the old line is gone...and only the memories remain for the few who can remember them.
A small bridge that we pedaled over brought me back to the present, and it was just a few hundred feet where we had left our gear this morning. The tent and supplies were in the area where Dad and I had mowed the tall grass.
We arrived at camp at 1:00 according to my wrist watch and fixed sandwiches. After a short rest, we pedaled into Elmo which was a little under a mile away. Mrs. Baynebridge was there. She had been waiting for about an hour with soda pop and some cold pizza. Even so, the pizza was good and typical as teenagers, we consumed the pizza as we visited with her. She knew a couple of the citizens of Elmo and after being reassured that we were quite safe...she went on to visit her friends before returning home.
We rode our bikes back to camp and arrived just about the time the family would have been watching the news on TV at home. Greg had brought a transistor radio. The sounds were faint and "tinny" but in those days...they were the latest fad. He turned on the radio to "WLS-Chicago" and a piece of music blared across our campground...a piece called THE STRIPPER by David Rose and his orchestra.
We built a fire in a fire ring that we made with stones found along the rail line at camp and shortly, the smell of burning wood made us all feel like we had had a great and successful day. Although we had chips, cookies and other food items, after consuming Mrs. Baynebridge's Pizzas and sodas...none of us seem particularly hungry.
We sat on short logs turned up on ends for stools and fed the fire as we talked of our adventures of the day. Greg was all laughs as he told stories that he had heard in the school locker room...and we laughed with him as he acted out some of the stories. We could always count on him to keep us amused. We pitched a softball back and forth and talked of another adventure on bikes...maybe a 50 mile hike on another trail in the state...knowing that unless our families went, we would not be able to do it. As the embers of our fire died down, we popped some popping corn in one of those Jiffy Pop tins where the top expands and holds the finished corn. We had two of them and surprisingly enough...we ate it all and wished we had brought more. Sun down brought out the mosquitoes. We adjourned to our tent.
Inside the tent with flashlights to minimize the drawing of insects, we rolled out our sleeping bags and undressed. As if on instinct, we all stripped naked and laid back on our beds as we checked to make sure we all still had cocks and balls. Yep, all present. The Inspection caused arousal and soon we had paired off, the twins with each other and Greg and Me, side by side.
The Baynebridge twins had always been very close and they grew up experimenting with each other and continued. Although they had joined Greg and Me in some mutual sexual encounters...they always ended up gravitating back to each other. There is a love and deep tie to one's twin when they are both of the same gender. I remember fantasizing about what it would be like to have your own sex partner laying in the bed next to you...and they always as eager as you to experience the erotic sensations, over and over again.
Greg and I were nearly as close. We had done things with each other that a lot of people would have found totally inappropriate...but we had done them and had intense stimulation and ejaculation.
With the lights out, I could see Jim and Joe holding each other close, saw them kiss each other and fondle each other's genitalia. Finally, they were embraced in a "69" position and you could hear the sound of saliva squishing as they sucked each other's prongs. We could hear the sighs of intense feeling and the desire for more. We were at the age when we wanted more and more. We were in a hurry to feel the intense release of an ejaculation...but wanted to prolong the pleasure of working up to it until it became so strong that we could no longer hold out.
Jim and Joe would get to the point of almost shooting their load and back off. They had become experts in edging. I liked that concept too, but Greg had a hair trigger and when he got to the point of no return...there was little use in trying to delay his ejaculation. He was also a screamer...when he started to cum...he would howl like a wolf baying at the moon. Many times I put my hand over his mouth to keep him from alerting other people in the house to what was going on.
Jim had rolled over on his opposite side and Joe had inserted his "donkey dick" into his brother and pushed in as far as it would go and then easing out a bit, would repeat the process. Jim would moan with delight and Joe would sigh with contentment as the process progressed. They were experts in delay. As the mid night hour arrived and passed, they were still edging one another. Finally, they pulled out and after a quick clean up with a towel...stroked each other with a slick lube and jacked each other off...catching the ejaculation in a paper towel that could be cast into the fire to dispose of the evidence.
For me, it was much faster. Greg got to the point of ejaculation very quickly and discharged his load all over my chest...then lay down between my legs and sucked me until I was very close. He lubed a finger and inserted, massaging my prostate gland...and the ejaculation followed in less than two minutes. It was so satisfying...that I rolled over on my side and Greg snuggled up behind me and put his arm around me. A couple of times he kissed the back of my neck...and went to sleep. I closed my eyes and drifted off...only to hear Jim or Joe moan with delight as their interactions continued despite the fact that both had cum. How wonderful to have someone you loved so deeply next to you, naked every night. I closed my eyes again...and could only hear the night creatures making their sawing sound as I drifted off into a deep sleep.
Sometime in the early morning hours, a hoot owl cry woke me. I sat up and looked around the tent. My partners were all soundly asleep. In the distance another owl hooted back. The air had become quite cool. I stepped out side the tent for a minute to pee and then slipped back inside...crawled back into my sleeping bag next to Greg and went back to sleep. Yesterday had been such a fun day. I expected the new day to be nothing less. Greg's hand slipped over my chest and pulled me close again...then descended and found my soft dick. He held on.
He moved his fingers ever so slightly but it was enough hitting the sensitive nerves that ran up and down the inside of my penis to make it start to harden. In just a few minutes it was erect as it could get. He was still in a sleep like stupor but alert enough to gently flex his fingers on the sides. The sensation grew intense and then moved on to very intense. I lay still to see if anything was going to happen. Although the orgasmic sensations became closer and closer...he did not move up and down in a jacking-off motion...just touch in a peristaltic motion, exciting the nerves and muscles in my cock. I felt the pre-cum start leaking, then more, the orgasm was starting...then getting more intense. Still I lay as quiet as I could. More semen was coming up the shaft and erupting to the outside...small secretions, then more sensation and larger secretions until all of a sudden...I lost it all...and totally shot my load. The feeling was indescribable. I pulled my legs up and thrust my dick into the air...grabbed a hold and jacked for all I was worth...still the semen flowed and then a second more intense orgasm as sensation and semen merged for one final ejaculation. I was out of breath. After laying there for a minute or two, I grabbed a couple of towels from the paper towel roll and cleaned off my dick, and wiped where I had shot all over my upper thighs and abdomen. Now totally spent of energy, I lay back down next to Greg...scooting close to him and felt him kiss the back of my neck again.
I rolled over to face him. He was smiling as light cracked the horizon. Reaching down, I found him as hard as I had been a few minutes ago. I slipped under his sleeping bag flap and put his dick in my mouth...and started a slow slide on it. He became instantly hard. He kicked the upper part of his sleeping back and away from him...reached over for some Vaseline...and handed it to me. I knew what he wanted. Taking an old hand towel from home...I instructed him to raise up enough that I could slide the towel under his lower extremities so as not to get Vaseline on his sleeping bag...and lubing my finger...instructed him to turn and get up on his hands and knees. As he did so, I pushed his chest down on the sleeping back with his buttocks in the air. Lubing my index finger...and his sphincter, I inserted my finger into his anal canal and stroked his prostate, in and out, in and out, for the next ten minutes as his dick got harder and harder. Taking a small amount of Vaseline on my other hand, began to stroke his dick. As he got close, I backed off. He was enjoying the stroking as much as I had enjoyed his attention to me earlier. Finally he got too close to the edge and started leaking seminal fluid profusely. A couple of hard strokes with my finger plunging in as far as it would go...and his orgasm came quickly and intensely. He start yelping with erotic grunts and squeals as I milked every last drop from his pulsating dick. He dropped onto his sleeping bag, drained physically and emotionally. Success!
Jim and Joe were chuckling at the display they had just witnessed...but they did not join us. They were still content with their hours of interaction last night. We bantered back and forth how real men could jerk off at least a half dozen times each day...but, like Jim and Joe, I would rather have one good experience with someone I cared for then a half dozen with just anyone.
We heated water from the water jug so we could clean up as best we could...and then putting the tent and bags in order and having a bit of breakfast...we started the trek back to our home town. There was no hurry...as we pedaled along and talked among ourselves. Mosquitoes were still a little bit of a problem...even with spray on our exposed surfaces. Although it was suggested that we ride home naked...our better judgment told us that it was not a good idea.
At the half way point, we approached the Russell Trestle again and to our surprise, some of our classmates were wading in the Fish Creek below. We knew them all, Paul, Pat, Biff, Slug and Reed...all naked as jay birds. We slipped up on them carefully so they would not see us. They were trying to act the macho man roles...but two had erections and the other three were commenting that they would like to jack off if no one else told. As we watched, they all were in some state of masturbating when it was suggested that perhaps they could jerk each other if no one told on the rest of them.
We could stand it no longer...and called to them. They started grabbing for their clothing...but they knew they were caught. The Baynebridge boys quickly joined them and stripped off their clothing too so the rest would not feel so foolish. Finally, Greg and I stripped off as well and joined them in the water. We did a lot of horse play...but none of us touched any of the rest of them for fear of starting a rumor. We played around in the water and talked and finally we all jacked off together...each one tending his own needs. I really think, one on one, every one would have been willing to share with another...but collectively they were afraid of being branded as a queer. One of the boys who we called Biff, his real name was Jeremiah Biffle, played basketball for our school and was a lettered track participant. He was a good scholar, and had a kind and generous personality. He dated one of the cheer leaders and was said to have had a relationship with her...but here he was... hanging in all his glory with black pubic hair that was straight as a string, hair on his chest, legs and arms...as black as coal and the deepest piercing blue eyes. He was all smiles, and had a come back for every remark. All of his friends gravitated towards him because of his friendly personality. I tried to talk to him, face to face, but could not help but keep looking at his cock.
As the others wandered up the Fish Creek a bit looking for muscles in the water, Biff eased over my way and sat down on the big flat rock next to me.
"Sure is a great day to be outside," he said.
"Sure is," I answered back, " don't you just love summer break?"
"I do," he responded, "but I kind of miss the social aspect of school. Have you been to any of the summer dances?"
"Yeah, I went to the first two last year," I said, "then we went on vacation and I missed the rest...but this year, I have not gone to any yet."
"You should come go with us," Biff responded, "several of the girls have asked if you would be in town this summer."
I laughed, "I would like to go...but my family is going to Wisconsin in a couple of weeks and we will be there the rest of the summer until school starts."
"Bummer," Biff replied. "Do you like going to Wisconsin every year..?"
"Well, yeah," I returned, "and I miss all my friends here too...but Wisconsin has fishing, and skiing, and a summer of camping, and canoeing. It really is a lot of fun."
"It sounds like a lot of fun," Biff spoke back, "I like to fish and canoe and camp..."
"Do you think your parents would let you go with us, if I asked you to come along," I inquired?
"Yeah, I think they would. They have always had a lot of respect for Professor Jacobson...I think they would let me go.
"Then I will ask my dad and mom about it this evening when I get home," I said to him.
"Gosh Ben...that would be great. You wouldn't mind?"
"I would like for you to go with us...it is a lot of fun and you and I could take the canoe and go to explore some of the islands," I told him... "Greg and I explored a lot of the area two summers ago."
"Greg isn't going with you this year," he asked?
"Not until after the 4th of July...he is coming up on the train and will stay with us until we return...but that is ok...the three of us can have a lot of thing to do."
"My folks might let me go for a couple of weeks...but I doubt for the whole summer...but if Greg can come up there by himself on the train...I could come back here the same way. I'll ask my parents about it tonight," he said.
"And I will start the ball rolling from this end with my dad and mom," I replied.
He leaned over close enough to speak to me with out the other's hearing him and said, " I don't mind you looking at my cock. Yours is not so bad either." And saying this...he got up from the rock and splashed around in the creek with the others hunting for muscles.
We stayed until a little past noon and after having some peanut butter sandwiches...dressed and got back on our bikes to head for home. We waved to the others and pedaled away. It was in the middle of the afternoon when we got home. To my surprise, my dad had already gone to the campsite and tore down the tent and packed the gear. It was all sitting at the edge of the garage to be put away.
The trip to Elmo and back had been fun and we had had a good time...but I was glad to be home and could hear a hot shower calling my name. Mrs. Baynebridge came over and got Joe and Jim's camping gear. The boys pedaled for home behind her car. Greg too, was glad to head for home. I did not tell him of my conversation with Biff. I thought Greg would be ok with it...but I was not ready to test him on it. We shook hands in front of dad and while we were putting the camping gear back on the shelves in the garage...he kissed me on the side of my face and hugged me before pedaling off with a wave. Our naked bike hike had lived up to everything I had expected...and even more with this new revelation from Biff. We would just have to wait and see what might happen with that.