CHAPTER 8—MISSING TOWEL AND SEE-THRU SWIMSUIT
First, although she'll never read this, I need to give a shout-out to my Grandma. Without her, I could never tell all this stuff in these chapters.
For Christmas when I was in eighth grade Grandma give me a book with no title. When I opened it I discovered there were no words inside either.
"What's this?"
She told me it was a journal. She said I should start keeping a journal of what I do each day. I could either write a few "bullet points" as she called them, or write details of what I did.
When I asked why she told me there was no way I could possibly remember everything I did, and later I probably would wish I could. So keeping a journal is how you do it.
I thought about that and it sounded pretty good to me. So I said okay.
And I started and kept up at it almost every day. Still do. Sometimes I'd mess up and write what happened and forget to put the day, but I wrote all the stuff I was doing. But what if somebody finds it?
I had an idea. From the start, I just wrote consonants with no vowels (unless the consonants could make two words and I wanted to remember which) and I also didn't use spaces. It looked like a bunch of letters. I was the only person who could easily read it later. It was a great system.
And without that I wouldn't remember all the stuff I'm telling you. Some for sure, but not everything.
So thanks Grandma. You rock!
...
I noticed that when ninth grade began and I'm at my new school, I was beginning to have a problem. I'd pop out with a boner in the middle of the day for no reason. It was obvious, so I'd turn around or go somewhere and reach down and try to arrange things, but usually you could usually see a bulge. One day at lunch I was talking with a bunch of guys and they all said it happened to them, too. So we made a pact: when it happened, it happened. We wouldn't made a deal of it, but we'd just ignore it. And, of course, the girls started talking and some of the older guys said something. It was funny.
Was this a big problem with you in ninth grade?
...
I told you my dad has a great "job," if you could call it that. He owns a big boat and people pay him to take them out in the ocean for fishing trips. He has all the rods and reels and tackle and brings bait. Everything they need. And he always has drinks they can buy, or they pay more and can drink what they want (he had a limit on just two beers. Didn't want drunks in the middle of the ocean.)
He tries to just work five days a week, and maybe six one week a month. Sometimes he will also book half-day trips Sunday after church.
Rarely does he do seven trips a week, but because the money is good he will do that somemtimes, but not very often.
The Saturday before Thanksgiving he was home. (Unusual for a Saturday, but he said with the holidays coming next week it was never his busiest time of year.)
Mom and my sister had gone shopping in the next state. My brother was home (I found out later). I slept in a little, got up, and took a shower.
I told you my hair is long, way down my back, and it takes some time to get it looking good. I comb it (sometimes brush it) a lot. My mom got me something she calls "product" to put in it and comb it through my hair to make it look really cool. I've had girls tell me they wish they could get their hair looking that good. There aren't even many girls with hair longer than mine.
Well, it's Saturday morning. I'm standing naked in my bathroom. I've taken a shower and dried off. I'm combing my hair with the stuff in it and it's looking the way I want it. Then I hear Dad yell from downstairs, "Jon Eric, would you come down here quickly?"
He didn't sound panicky but "quickly" told me not to fuck around. They don't like us going downstairs naked because of a few accidents I've had, so I never do it. At least not when they're home.
So I have this long bath towel and I wrapped it around my waist and headed downstairs.
I start yelling "Dad..." when almost at the bottom of the stairs I stop dead cold. There, at the bottom of the stairs, is my dad talking to somebody I didn't know.
I say, "Oops. I just got out of the shower."
Dad says, "That's okay. Come down. I want you to meet somebody."
He tells me the guy is a college student and he came to book several trips on the boat. I look at the guy and reach out my hand to shake it and...holy crap.
His eyes and my eyes lock onto each other. The guy is totally cute. Or hot. Or cool. Or all three. Or maybe even something else. And his look says he may think the same about me. I'm guessing, but I think that's right. He looks at me, then down at my chest, looking like he's checking me out. He is awesome big-time hot. I feel my dick twitch and I don't want a boner now.
Just then my brother comes from his room and Dad introduces him. (I know Dad told me the guy's name but I was so hypnotized looking at him I never heard it). Riley shakes his hand and is polite as Riley can be, with is sort of weak.
Dad says, "I just wanted him to meet my two cool sons."
Riley turns around to go back to his room and before I know it, he's reached around the front of me, grabbed the end of my towel, snatched it, and he's gone.
I yell, "Hey!" and Dad yells "Riley" and then Dad says, "I'm sorry. As you can see, I have sons."
They guy starts looking and I see his eyes go down my chest to you-know-where and my boner goes up a notch.
The guy starts laughing and says "No problem" and I start laughing. Dad can see nobody's freaking out and he starts laughing. I shrug my shoulders and say, "That's my brother." The guy says, "I guess so."
So we talk a second (I wished this would last) but Dad tells me I'd better go upstairs and get some clothes and the guy actually says, "No, that's okay" and I wonder if Dad can feel the electricity this guy and I are throwing at each other. But he doesn't say anything.
So I head up the stairs and I'm sure he's checking out my butt, even though I can't see him.
My brother's an idiot. But sometimes he's a jerk at the perfect time. I love that guy.
...
Well, Thanksgiving was perfect. All our family that lived close enough came to our house for dinner. Remmi and his mom and dad came, too. We had some cousins with us (not the one I told you about –these were younger.) We played games and had fun. Mom asked if Remmi and I could do one of our songs so we went upstairs and got our gear and set up and ended up doing about thirty minutes of stuff. They loved it, and it really made us feel cool.
The day after Thanksgiving was warmer than usual. Really nice. So Friday morning Remmi comes over and says, "Hey, you want to go to the beach and throw a Frisbee...?
I'm not sure that's what I want to do today. But Remmi wasn't finished.
"...naked?"
Hmm. It was warm enough. But with no school I was afraid somebody would drive along the road that overlooks the beach and see us and we might busted. Remmi stopped smiling. Until...
"Hey," I said. "I've got an idea. Give me a minute to find something."
I went out back to the room where we keep stuff we don't know where to put. They weren't hard to find, so I picked them up and put them in a plastic bag from K-Mart.
Remmi looks suspicious. "What's that?"
I tell him, "Our swimsuits."
He screws up his face. "But I'm wearing a swimsuit and I don't want to wear it on the beach."
I smirk. "You'll want to wear this swimsuit. Trust me."
He said okay (although he was suspicious) and we both got on our bikes and headed to the beach road. We rode past the south bridge, past the houses on the beach, to the place we'd been skinny dipping before. Yeah, and the place where those girls were. I still feel creepy about that.
So we hide our bikes, take our towels, and head down to the beach. You have to be careful so you won't fall and get hurt, as this isn't a regular swimming beach.
We get to the beach, over where nobody can see us, and I say, "Take off your shorts."
O...kay. So we both strip. We're naked. Now what?
I open my bag.
"What's that?"
It was leftover Halloween makeup. We had a couple of big jars left from the party we had. I brought a jar of blue and a jar of white.
He's not getting it. "What are you going to do with those?"
My smile is so big it's embarrassing.
"We're going to paint swimsuits on us with this face makeup. From a distance it will look like we're wearing swimsuits. But we'll be totally naked."
He says, "What!" I say, "Stand still."
I get a handful of blue and start with his butt. I wipe it all over, in the crack, underneath getting the bottom of his balls. I'm neat to keep it smooth. Then I do the front with his legs, his balls, his dick (over, under, and around)."
"You don't want a boner," I tell him. "That'll mess up the effect."
He tells me, "You're rubbing my dick and balls. That's how you get a boner. Idiot!"
I tell him it'll settle down. Then I wipe the blue off of my hand onto my butt, all over. Then I take a finger full of the white and I draw a white border around his waist and at the bottom of the two "legs" of his "swimsuit." I stand back and realize, "This is a work of art." I tell him it's his turn.
He really gets into it. My butt, my legs, and all the good stuff in the middle. He's careful. It's smooth, and his white border is even neater than the one I drew on him.
We stood back and checked other out. Then it was Frisbee time.
We had a totally awesome day. We though one guy was coming toward us and we started to panic a little, but he was looking for shells and he left us alone.
I wish we had thought to take pictures with our phones.
Finally, when we had enough Frisbee we rolled around in the sand and looked like those donuts at the grocery store. We wrestled, and even got where nobody could see us and frenched a while.
We got enough sand off to jerk off without scratching ourselves. Then we ran to the water (did I mention it is November?) and it wasn't long before we were used to the water. We were having so much fun the cold didn't bother us. And it wasn't really that cold. Chilly would be the word, I think.
When we decided to get out we realized our swimsuits were all the way "over there" so we figured we'd have to run for it and hope nobody noticed.
When we got to our house we ran upstairs before anybody knew we were home. We got in the shower and finished cleaning up.
This may be the coolest thing I had ever thought of.
Up to then, anyway.