Jimbo - 2. Mason's Travelogue

When I was in the first grade my parents made me keep a travelogue when we went to Spain on vacation. It was a combination of a work trip for my mother and some vacation time afterwards. My mother told me that later in life I would appreciate having this memory book of the trip. I knew how to read and write at fifth grade level when I was in the first grade so it was no problem. I enjoyed it so much that I have made and kept a travelogue of trips since then. They form a history of my life.

Sunday

All the way to camp, my mother kept asking if I had remembered to bring certain things. Finally, I told her that she had packed my trunk the night before and should know whether things were packed or not. All that week, I had made stacks of things to bring. They were on the other twin bed in my room. I read through the information from the camp about what was needed. I checked off each box as I put the required things on the bed. My mother had made her own list and I checked things off of that also. Such as an extra-large tube of sun screen with a SPF of maybe three million. God, she would go overboard sometimes. She was so afraid that the sun’s rays would touch my skin and I would explode right there on the waterfront. Spontaneous combustion. I was the palest kid in the camp. NOBODY had whiter skin.

Jimbo, he won’t let us call him Mr. Ward, made me take my tee shirt back to my tent and then the sun screen. Boy, was I embarrassed by that. He picked me out of every boy in the troop and made an example of me. Not in a good way. I felt like such a dork, that is until we got to the waterfront then I felt like an absolute total fraud. I wanted to die. I can’t swim. I sank like a stupid rock. I was coughing and spitting and crying and sinking. All at the same time.

Jimbo picked out Toby to take the rest of the troop back to the campsite. Why him? Of all of the boys, why does Toby always get chosen. Maybe because he is the captain of the football team? Maybe because he has all of those muscles? Maybe because of the blond hair and blue eyes and those damn dimples. I hate him. Except when I am doing you know what to his you know thing. He smirked at me when Jimbo said he was going to keep me at the waterfront and teach me how to swim. But I had the upper hand because I had told him I would not share a tent with him for the week and we would not get together.

Into the water we went. I was scared and embarrassed. I was the only kid at the waterfront and there were all of the staff people and then Jimbo was wearing a Speedo. I almost spooged right there. Does he know how big his thing is and how tiny the bathing suit is? Of course, I had on my father’s swim trucks from the Middle Ages. He swore he bought them on a trip to Hawaii when he was in college. He probably weighted fifty pounds more than me and they may have been cool then but they were a relic now. They belonged in a f-king museum. I could barely keep them on my waist. I had to lie across Jimbo’s arms. I know I turned bright red. I could barely breathe. He was patient and finally told me to take off the swim suit and he threw it on the shore. Just when I thought I couldn’t get more embarrassed, it happened. I sprang a boner while trying to adjust myself on Jimbo’s arms. It kept rubbing against his arms. I kept telling myself to focus and I finally did and was able to swim well enough to pass the exam.

The other staff hid Jimbo’s clothes and he had to walk back wearing just that Speedo. I would have died to be seen in that. Of course, he looks like a God in it and strutted back to camp. I had a hard on the entire time but luckily that big old swimsuit hid my boner so nobody else could see. We got back and I changed to get ready for supper.

Man can that man talk? Does he enjoy his own voice? The Camp Director. At the evening program I made sure that I sat next to Jimbo and I fell asleep on his shoulder. I awoke and realized I had drooled down his shirt. Just kill me now. I am such a geek and a nerd. He will never want to be my friend. God, please let him be my friend.

I couldn’t help myself. I jerked off and was moaning when I shot the biggest load I have ever shot. I thought I would drown it was so much. All I had to do was think of him holding me in the water with my dick rubbing his hand and whoosh. I will need to be up early to shower because I will probably be covered in dried cum. I can’t let the other guys see me covered in dried cum.

Monday

Let me die right now. I tried like hell to remember how to swim. He yelled at me. I wanted to go into the lake and drown myself. I just can’t remember how when I am looking at Jimbo half naked. Everything left my mind. It took a few minutes of reviewing and I was able to swim again. At least he wasn’t wearing that Speedo. I, however, was wearing my dad’s Jams. Off they came and all of the boys got to see me in my tighty whities. Only they aren’t so tight so they kept falling off my hips. I looked over and saw Toby smirking. He then grabbed his crotch. Bastard.

While helping Jimbo in the knots course all I could think about were those Greek heroes. Achilles and Patroclus or Alexander and Hephaestion. I saw us side by side in life, each of us teaching. Me helping him. I sure am glad that my English teacher made us read Margaret Hamilton’s book on Greek Mythology. Could I stop after reading that? Noooooo. I went to the second-hand bookstore in the shopping center where the Piggly Wiggly is located – the one where I work after school. I kept looking around the bookstore and the owner asked if he could help me. He is one old dude – probably about 35 or 40. Anyway, I told him I was looking for something on Greek Mythology or something about Achilles. He handed me a book and said he thought I would enjoy it. “The Persian Boy” by a woman named Mary Renault. Sounded like a car to me. Renault, I mean. Anyway, I took it home and started reading it. I could not put it down. I pretended I was Bagoas, only with my balls, and that I was helping Alexander. Man, I love my balls and wouldn’t want anyone to cut them off. I imagined Alexander taking me to bed and that I became his lover. I could not help channeling Bagoas. I knew I would be his servant when around other people but I would be his lover when it was just the two of us. I would bathe him and clean all of the grime from his mighty shoulders. I would kiss his neck after scrubbing it clean. I would gently reach into the bath and wash his penis and gently fondle his balls. My dick was so stiff I thought it would break.

The next week I went back to the bookstore and was browsing through the paperbacks and the old dude asked me how I had liked the book. I was so excited talking about Bagoas and Alexander that I was tripping over words. He smiled at me indulgently. He then pulled a book off the shelf and it had a man and a young guy on the cover. The young guy looked like me only I have red hair. We both have sorta dorky glasses. He was sitting down and this older dude was standing behind him. It looked like a locker room. Ha, you won’t find me in a locker room if I can help it. He said that I might like this was it was set it modern times. “The Front Runner.” Sounds like a bunch of kids like Toby but since the boy on the cover looked like me I thought I would read it. The author was named Patricia Nell Warren. What is with all of these women writing about men? Men don’t write about women do they? Scratch that. Sometimes I can be really, really stupid. The night I finished that book, I cried and screamed. My parents came running into my bedroom and all I could say was, “they killed Billy, they killed Billy.” I had never been so distraught. Not even when my grandparents died. I was crying and wailing so much that my father finally said he would take me to the Emergency Room if I didn’t calm down. I reached deep down within myself and forced myself to stop crying until they left my room. I quietly whimpered all night and was so sick I could not go to school the next day. They fucking killed him, man. Do they always have to kill us? Do we always have to die for being gay? Can I have someone to try to protect me from the world? I had figured out I was gay from reading those books. I just needed a name to put to what I felt. I was gay.

The fellow at the bookstore kept giving me books to read. I bought them but could not keep them at home. He told me that he would keep my stash at the store and when I was ready I would have a ready-made library. The guy, Tim, is so cool. He doesn’t look so old anymore. More like a big brother. It is nice to have a big brother to lean on and answer questions.

Other than that, the day was boring. Like totally.

Wait. Oh my God, how could I forget? Jimbo came to the campsite to get us to take us to dinner. We all noticed that his zipper was down and his jockstrap was sticking out of his fly. I mean really sticking out. When I realized that I was running my tongue over my lips, I stopped. I looked over and Toby was shaking his head in a negative way which meant we weren’t going to tell him. I went along with the guys even though I felt that if I was really Bagoas I would have told Alexander. But I was just Mason. A Second Class scout who was trying to get my First Class badge this week. Then I might be respected. I would keep quiet to be part of the troop.

I couldn’t look at Jimbo throughout dinner. I knew he would see it in my face. When Jimbo had to stand and review the dress uniform, all of the guys in the dining hall saw his big dick sticking through his zipper. Man, I was so embarrassed for him. I would have died. I would have packed my bags and gone home that night. What did Jimbo do? He made a big joke of it. He turned it around to what my teachers called self-deprecating humor. How do you do that when you only want to die? Anyway, Jimbo did it. All of the guys, including Jimbo left the dining hall laughing. I was scratching my head trying to figure out how he did that. And the big yellow mustard jockstrap. I was walking back with my hands over my dick it was so hard. I couldn’t let anyone see that.

After dinner I called my mother to tell her I needed another swimsuit. I could hear my father in the background saying he wasn’t spending any more money on me going to summer camp. I then said into the phone that I wasn’t asking for another swimsuit, I was telling them they were to buy me one. No if, ands, or buts about it. In addition, I told them I needed a mustard yellow jockstrap. My mother gasped. I told her to get over it. I was growing into a man and that is what I needed, not wanted, but needed. My mother said she could probably find a white one at the department store. I asked if she was hard of hearing. I was being mean. I told her I needed mustard yellow even if she had to drive to Virginia Beach. She said she would try. I told her trying was not good enough. I knew that she understood what was required and that she would follow through with what was required for waterfront activities. The last part was a lie but I didn’t care. I wanted one like Jimbo had. Where did that strong, directive voice come from? I had never spoken to my parents like that in my life.

Ahhh, alone in the tent. I am thinking about the yellow jockstrap. I got my underwear off the clothes line. I pretended it was Jimbo’s jockstrap. I gnawed on it and shot a load. I am trying to clean up and finish my travelogue. If the pages stick together it’s not my fault.

Tuesday

I woke this morning before the bugle sounded. It was a good thing as I needed to take another early shower. I have got to stop this. From now on, I will eat my cum. That way I won’t need a cum rag. I will scrape it off my body like Bagoas would scrape the dirt from Alexander’s body and I will eat it. I would eat the dirt from Jimbo’s body if he asked me to. Hmmm, maybe not. I would eat his cum though. Man, I want to eat his cum.

At breakfast we were all sorta out of it. We were waking very slowly. Jimbo was talking like it was lunch time; just yammering on. God, my head hurt. I hated that he was a morning person. Shut the f-up, please. I cut my eyes and looked at him. He caught my glance and winked at me. Shut the f-up. He winked at me again. He said he would need my help in the knots program again and I acted all nonchalant and nodded my head. I looked at the table top and smiled. Is that how you play hard to get? I then glanced at him again and smiled. Keep it cool, man. Play it cool.

Waterfront had the potential to be a disaster only I took off the Jams when we got to the lake. I was just in my saggy underwear. Early during the swim time, Toby pulled off my underwear and grabbed my dick. I could have killed him. The guys were throwing them to each other so I couldn’t get them. I was about to panic and leave the lake when I wondered what Jimbo would do. You know that saying, “What would Jesus do?” I substituted Jimbo for Jesus. Pretty cool, huh. Anyway, I grabbed Toby’s swimsuit and yanked it off. I didn’t touch his dick though. He was totally surprised. I tossed it to someone else. By the time the session was over, everyone was a rudie nudie. We were laughing and having fun. None of the guys wore jockstraps so we could see each other’s dicks. Benjie laughed and said it was the best swim time thus far. We put our clothes on and strolled back to the campsite. Everyone said I was the hero of the day. They said no one else would have thought of such fun.

Sandwiches for lunch. Yuck. I hate sandwiches on white bread. Gross. I sat staring at my empty plate and figured out I would go hungry for the rest of the day. Jimbo looked over and asked me if I was sick. I told him that I hated sandwiches. He suggested that I take the lettuce, tomato, meat and cheese and make a chef salad. He excused himself and left the table. When he came back he had a bottle of Blue Cheese dressing. Man, that was a good salad. See how smart he was. He could solve any problem. The other guys decided they wanted to do the same. Jimbo looked at me, arched his eyebrow and said, “look what you have done now. My ass will be in trouble.” He then smiled from ear to ear and I knew he didn’t care. His troop was being taken care of.

The knots course was a disaster again. My fingers would not work. I could teach the other boys how to tie the knots but I couldn’t do it myself. How stupid is that? I intellectually knew how to tie each and every knot. I had read the book and memorized all of the instructions. That was easy. I could visualize the page. In fact, midway through the class Jimbo was looking for something in the manual that he could not find. He was frustrated and I asked what he was looking for. I told him it was at the top of page 86. He gave me an odd look. He turned to page 86 and there it was. He tested me again and I gave him the page number each time. He just shook his head in wonder. At the end of class he asked me if I was an idiot savant. I reddened up immediately and told him I was not an idiot. He then told me that is not what he said. I told him I had good hearing and I was not an idiot. Then I started crying. WHY????? Why couldn’t I be cool like him and have a witty comeback. Why did I have to do this girl stuff and cry.

I hate Jimbo. It is official. No more jerking off thinking about him. I ran back to the campsite. Of course, I tripped, fell and scraped my knee. I didn’t care. I decided I didn’t want to go to dinner and told the guys I was sick. A couple asked if I wanted a plate brought back to the camp and I told them no.

After dinner, Jimbo came back to the campsite and told us about the Order of the Arrow and said we would vote tomorrow morning about who from the troop would be selected. He said we needed to think about it and be prepared to vote right after breakfast. I knew that I was voting for Toby. I knew that everyone else in the troop would vote for him so I decided to play along. Jimbo then talked about a secret plan for Saturday. We all thought it was brilliant. I was still angry with him but agreed that it was a cool idea. How do you stay mad with him, I wondered.

Of course, I couldn’t whistle. I couldn’t snap my fingers. Everyone else could and it was a matter of learning the tune – some Colonel Booger March. All I could think about were boogers hanging from everyone’s noses as we whistled. At least that brought a smile to my face. After the group broke up, Jimbo asked that I stay behind to talk about something. He apologized for calling me an idiot. He asked if I would accept his apology. I did. Then he explained what he meant about an idiot savant. I was tense while he was talking and he reached out and slowly stroked my arm up and down. My breathing returned to normal. Next he said, I needed to learn to snap my fingers. I just looked at him and started laughing. He did too. He sat at the end of the picnic table and had me sit between his thighs. It was almost impossible for me to pay attention. He then reached around me and placed his hand on mine. He explained how the snapping worked. I kept practicing until I finally got a good snap. Our smiles could have lit up the campsite. Next he said he would teach me how to whistle. I turned around so I could see his lips. He showed me how to pucker. I just couldn’t do it. He got up in my face watching my mouth. I swear I thought he was going to kiss me. I wanted him to kiss me. He had me get very close and look at his mouth. Man, what beautiful lips he had. He took his hand and tried to shape my mouth. His fingers slipped into my mouth and I immediately started to suck on them. He jumped up and I fell backwards. He said it was enough teaching for one night.

The bugle sounded and it was time for bed. I felt someone in my tent. A hand went across my mouth and I heard Toby speak. He sat on the edge of my bunk and asked if I would vote for him for Order of the Arrow. I said that I would think about it. He told me that he would let me suck his dick in exchange for the vote. I pushed him off the cot. I reminded him that I said we weren’t doing it anymore. Even though it was dark in the tent, I knew he was standing there. I could hear his angry breathing. He then said he would tell everyone that I was sucking Jimbo if I didn’t agree to suck him.

I don’t know what made me but I jumped up and pushed him out the tent. He fell backwards and hit the ground. He yelped. Other troopers came running. They all asked if he was ok. In the moonlight I could see him glaring at me. My hands were balled into fists. He would have beat me into the dirt but I would have given it my all. Instead, I looked out and told them that Toby had come over to borrow something and had tripped over a book I had stupidly left at the foot of the tent. He agreed. I reached down and pulled him up, dusted him off, and said it was time for everyone to turn in. I made a big deal about the possibility of him being hurt and asked if I should take him to the camp nurse. He said no and then thanked me for all of my help. We all went to sleep.

I still don’t know what Jesus would have done during the day. Probably just walked on water and got away from us crazy guys. I am glad that I didn’t walk away. It was worth it to feel Jimbo’s breath in my mouth as he was trying to teach me to whistle. Anyone can whistle, that’s what they say. Easy. I had recently heard some recording about that.

Wednesday

How do I even start?

Mother and Dad came to camp and brought a picnic basket full of food. There was cold fried chicken, cantaloupe, potato salad, tomatoes, some sort of pasta salad, sweet ice tea in a gallon jug, and yellow cake with chocolate icing. Mother also brought chocolate fudge for me to share with the guys. She went all out. We sat at one end of a picnic table since it was just three of us. Another camper and his family sat at the other end.

During dinner mother pulled out a bag. Inside was a really cool swimsuit and two jockstraps. Two!!! A white one and a mustard yellow one. She told me that she had to go to Virginia Beach to get the yellow one. My father said I should really be thankful that they had gone to all of the trouble. I was joyous and actually kissed their cheeks. I wanted to go to the campsite and put it on right then but knew that I shouldn’t. As we were finishing dinner, Jimbo came by to meet my parents and tell me that we were assembling. He was telling my parents how to get to the amphitheater when his parents arrived. I guess he wasn’t expecting them. His parents were really nice and told my dad that as soon as he packed things in the car they would show my parents how to get to the amphitheater. Cool. I was full from my mother’s good food. She has always been a great cook.

I sat beside Jimbo during the program. Our skit was ok but I felt like it was lame. All of the parents cheered us on. I think that was their job.

We next got to the part about the Order of the Arrow. Boy, were we surprised when Jimbo got that award. None of us knew what it meant but it must have been special since his parents had driven down to participate. We were all psyched for him. We knew Order of the Arrow was important and very secret. That morning after breakfast we all went back to the campsite and voted. Jimbo had pieces of paper and a pencil for each scout. He let us go back to our tents to vote so no one could see whose name we wrote on the paper. Of course, I wrote Toby’s name. He was a dick head but would enjoy being in the Order. Jimbo counted that he had the right number of slips and then told us to head to the water front for our first activity of the day.

Anyway, it was time for them to announce the scouts selected to the Order. There had been much hub-bub over Jimbo’s award and it took a few minutes before we got to this section. I was zoning out because I knew the outcome and was bored. That Camp Director could talk on and on and on. Would he just shut the f-up? All of I sudden there was much activity and I realized that my name had been called by Jimbo. There had to be a mistake. I looked and he was staring at me. It must be true. I got up and hoped that my legs would hold me while I walked down the steps. We shook hands and then I stood beside him. Two warriors being honored together. I thought of the rituals in that Greek Mythology book. I tried not to show emotion because I knew that I would cry. The ceremony was over and all of the guys crowded around me. My parents hugged me as did Jimbo’s parents. I thought that Jimbo must have miscounted and fudged and put my name on the slips of paper. I couldn’t imagine the guys in my troop electing me. They were the greatest guys in the world.

Toby came by the tent. He congratulated me but didn’t look me in the eyes when he did. Then he turned and walked off. I knew he was disappointed. He wanted it so bad. Benjie was jumping up and down and saying, “way to go dude” and stuff like that. I mean everyone was totally happy. I was happy too but I guess you could say I was in shock. Even my parents were grinning and happy when they left. That had never happened with them.

Thursday

I am on cloud nine. I cannot believe the guys chose me for the Order of the Arrow. I really don’t know what that fully means yet. I suppose they will tell me. Tomorrow night is the induction and it is taking everything in me not to obsess. I mean like totally not get filled with anxiety of the unknown. I went around last night and thanked everyone in my troop. I had a hard time sleeping I was so excited. My parents were over the moon. Really, over the moon. My mother will probably make me write them a thank you note. She will say it is the way things are done in the south.

School has always been so easy for me but life has been so hard. Give me a math equation on a senior level and I can do it in my head. My dad keeps saying I could easily be an engineer. Pukearama. Hmmm, I bet they make good money and can buy jock straps in every color. Tonight, he was beaming. My father. It was like the first time he saw me as a successful person. Usually, he stands back as his nerdy kid gets another academic award. It was almost as if I won the football award. Nah, but maybe the soccer award. It will never be the swimming award unless Jimbo gives me lots and lots of lessons. Anyway, I think I came across as a normal boy to my dad.

My mother was so excited I thought she would cry. She never cries but I saw her eyes welling up tonight. That is interesting. Neither of my parents are what you would call emotional people. I am the emotional one. I wonder why? Both of them are so analytical. They will discuss things through this dry emotionless process using facts and figures and I am the one using my heart. Maybe they don’t have hearts. I bet that’s it. They are probably like most parents: heartless.

Both of my parents were also looking at Jimbo a lot. I mean a lot. Do they know? They can’t. He doesn’t even know yet. I haven’t seduced him. Does he feel the same way? Oh my G-d, does he? Nah, he sees me as the geeky kid who can’t swim, can’t whistle, can’t snap, can’t tie knots. I am the doofus one. My dad shook his hand and then put a hand on Jimbo’s shoulder as if they were work buddies or something. I have seen him do that with guys from his office. I don’t think he has ever done that to me. My mother was practically gushing over Jimbo. She can’t have him. He’s mine. She better back away.

Enough. Sometimes I tend to get too emotional. State the obvious Mason. State the obvious. I will try to be more analytical and less emotional. Hah! Enough.

The day was triple boring. I was making the guys practice that Colonel Boogertoes March by whistling and snapping. If they refused, I would get right in their faces and start snapping my fingers. They just laughed and started practicing. We were not going to fail. We were not going to embarrass ourselves or Jimbo. Especially Jimbo.

I was tying knots. I was swimming. I was doing all of things to become a First Class Scout. I even picked up a stupid snake. I dared him to bite me. My name is not Cleopatra. I have not been taken yet and I am not dying a virgin. I was also sitting next to Jimbo at meals. I figured since they elected me to the Order, I had attained certain privileges.

Oh yeah, Toby came by and asked if he got the consolation prize. I asked what that was. He said it was to give him a blow job. I told him he had picked the wrong door. I was thinking of “The Price is Right.” He said he was thinking about telling everyone I was a queer. He still didn’t get the blow job. I am saving myself for one man. I hope that I have picked the right door.

Friday

Nothing entered.

Saturday

I was so tired last night I couldn’t write anything. Actually, I was wrapped in his arms. Between writing in my travelogue and being held by the man I love it was obvious which one I chose. Things were really jumbled so I will try to do both Friday and Saturday. I am so afraid I will forget something but I will NEVER forget what happened when it was the first time Jimbo made love to me. I awoke in bed alone this morning and stretched my arms over my head. Like I always do. No, I mean stretching my arms not waking up after a man has been in my bed.

I knew he had been in my bed. He left during the night. My butt hole was on fire. If I had to take a dump I would probably pass out from the pain. I hoped there was no blood running down my legs. Please, no blood. I sat up in bed and thought about the night before and could barely catch my breath. It happened. Well, a couple of different its happened.

When Jimbo came to the campsite to get me for the Order induction I was waiting in my tent. I had told Benjie to come get me when it was time. I had spent all day preparing for the ceremony. The book store owner had told me about a book by that woman author, Patricia Nell Warren, about a Catholic priest and an Indian. It took place somewhere out west. Anyway, the priest fell in love with the Indian who was a Fancy Dancer. That was the name of the book. I thought I would do my loin cloth like a fancy dancer. I wanted to dance like that woman in the Bible with the seven veils. Was that in the Bible? What were the seven veils about? I don’t remember. All I knew was that I wanted to entice Jimbo and make him want and need me so that when I brought him back to the tent that he would physically take me. I needed to be loved by him.

Jimbo had shown me how to cut out the crotch so the fabric wouldn’t bunch up and be uncomfortable on my dick and in between my cheeks. I carefully measured and cut the fabric. Damn, what is that saying? Measure twice and cut once. Well, my loin cloth was barely above my hip bones. It did not hang from my waist. Hmmm, the better to entice him. Thank God, I am an innie so I didn’t have to worry about my belly button sticking out and ruining the look. My butt cheeks stuck out the side. I was getting a hard on thinking that this might have some allure.

I went into the woods looking for twigs and leaves. I came back and laid out the loin cloth on the cot. I started assembling and decided I liked the look. I wanted the stag antlers on the dancing man. This would be a rutting rack. No doe here. I wanted man to man sex and having a set of antlers to spar with would indicate that I was equal to other men. It was coming together but it was taking a lot of time. It was a good thing that my mother had taught me how to sew buttons on a shirt so I could make the stiches to put everything together. One of the sewing women could have done a much better job but I was proud of my work. On one of the required hikes on Thursday I found a deer tail. It was over in the woods. We went through this area where hunters strung up deer and gutted them after shooting them. Someone had thrown the tail off to the side. I picked it up and put it in my pocket. I sewed that on the back. I put on the loin cloth so I could position it in exactly the right place. I knew where I wanted it to be. Jimbo would know that.

I hadn’t read much about Native Americans but I thought of them as very quiet and being able to move through the woods without the white man seeing them. I decided I would adopt that same decorum. I would be quiet and respectful and observant. Always observant. I thought of Bagoas who was always present but never seen and never heard. He knew that Alexander loved him and he was there to follow in his footsteps and respond to anything that was needed. He didn’t make a big deal out of anything. He was just present.

Jimbo waited and I walked up and stood in front of him without saying a word. I looked at the ground. When he was asked if I wanted to be inducted I looked up, stared into his eyes and said yes. His eyes got a little big when he saw the charcoal on my eyelids. Of course, he had used charcoal on his cheekbones. My breath caught and I almost choked. He was beautiful. He had on a headband that barely kept his curly hair under control. I was so glad that I didn’t comb my hair after showering today. I also didn’t use any of that conditioner to keep my curls under control. His biceps had leather straps on them. How did he get them to stay on when he flexed his arms and his biceps expanded? His loincloth barely held onto his hip bones; the same as mine. I had so much to learn. I wanted him to be my teacher and lover.

He turned and walked out of the campsite and I followed. He never said a word. I didn’t have any real Indian moccasins and so decided to go barefoot instead of wearing my tie up shoes. My flip flops would have looked stupid. The rocks hurt. I was almost crying from the pain. I then thought about those folks who walked on hot coals or those people who would lie on a bed of nails and I decided I could walk on a road of gravel. I tuned my mind to think of Jimbo’s shoulders and back that were directly in front of me. I got a hard on so I realized I needed to think of something else so I imagined I was the Fancy Dancer and my lover was sitting to the side, watching and waiting. What would my dance look like to entice him? What would I do? How would I make him mine and only mine?

The ceremony was unbelievable. I don’t remember most of it. I do remember the feel of Jimbo’s hand on my back as he steadied me. I felt his hand on my nipple and then my hips as he put the sash on me. I had a boner and thought I was going to unload in my loincloth. He leaned over and whispered in my ear that I was the most beautiful boy there. I swear he kissed my ear. I swooned and leaned back into him. I could not stand on my own. My knees would not have supported me. He said some words at the end as I swayed my hips back and forth across his manhood. I could feel it swelling. His hand grabbed my waist to keep me from moving.

The ceremony ended and we went up the hill. Other boys started heading back to their campsites but I waited for Jimbo. He made a joke about me being afraid of the dark but he didn’t know what I had waiting for him. He wanted us to walk side by side but I needed to stay behind him. I had to continue the ceremony.

He came into my tent and I tied the flaps. It was important that we were not disturbed. I lit a candle. I could see in his eyes that he was going to say something but then he didn’t. I made him touch me. I made him fondle me. I made him rub my hole. I wanted him to feel nothing but desire. We kissed and fumbled with clothes. We were lying on our sides with my back to his chest. I could feel his big manhood. I worked my hips until I was impaled.

I almost screamed in pain. I swear it hurt more than anything in my life. I knew if I screamed the night would be over and I would never see him again. I instead hissed yes. Yes to life, yes to love, yes to Jimbo. I remembered my walk on the rocks and took my mind to a different place – a place of love. I wanted him to fully take me. No hesitancy, no second thoughts, no regrets. He did. We rocked back and forth with him making me his. I was floating on air as we made love. My legs were over his shoulders. His mouth was on mine. My cock was spewing seed all over my body. He filled me with his life giving nectar. When we both exploded I bit his arm. I drew blood. I didn’t mean to. I was simply trying not to scream in ecstasy. I then bit my lip and mixed the blood and then drooled it on my lips. He licked them clean. I told him we were blood brothers. I was complete and could die in bliss at that moment.

I remember that we were somehow inside the sleeping bag with his big arms holding me. I fell asleep. I was not only exhausted, I was satiated. The next thing I knew was waking and he was gone.

That night became my real birth and the start of my life. Everything before was irrelevant. My new being started on that Friday night. I could be the romantic and say it all happened at midnight but I don’t know and I don’t care. Just like the Jewish people have their own calendar I think I will start mine. AJ. After Jimbo.

We met and went to breakfast on Saturday morning and he had this huge bandage on his arm. He looked like a war veteran. I was shy and afraid. I was afraid he regretted what had happened. I was afraid he was angry with me for biting him. I was afraid…..he would not love me.

Could life get any more weird? I mean really, totally weird. Our troop won the troop of the week award. We were totally psyched. We were all newbies and didn’t know what to do so Jimbo helped us so the award was really about him. He did it again; he deflected and said it was all about us and our scoutmaster who could not come. Why does he do that? He deserved it totally. I almost passed out when they announced scout of the week. My wobblily knees got me down front of everyone. Man, I couldn’t believe that. Then the guys put me on their shoulders and took me back to the camp site. How was I chosen? I don’t know. It felt that I had been given too many prizes but the one that mattered most was the one I got last night. No one deserved all of this. Certainly not me. Everyone was patting me on the back and telling me what a great job I had done. I was dazed and tried to figure out what to do.

I left a present on my bunk for Jimbo. I couldn’t just give it to him. We had one last kiss and I was ready to tell him I was staying with him the rest of the summer. I then ran and caught up with the parents. It took everything, I mean everything, in me not to burst out crying and screaming and laughing all at the same time. I was so f-king happy but at the same time I was f-king dying. The man I loved was back at the campsite and I had to leave and go back to whatever.

How do you survive after living through everything I had lived with this week? I was on Mount Olympus with the Gods. I now had to go down to the plains of Troy. I wanted to stay with my God.

I curled up in the backseat of the car and told my parents I wanted to sleep. They had a k-zillion questions and I didn’t want to talk. They were surprised and astounded the boy they sent to camp had come back a man. They didn’t understand. They had no basis for comprehension. They couldn’t comprehend because they had not been touched by the Gods.

I decided to man up. I sat up in the seat and played their game. Questions were fast and furious. My answers were even keeled and thoughtful. My father looked through the rear view mirror into my eyes. I saw a smile cross his face. He turned to my mother and said that he thought I had been touched by something very special and that their boy had grown up.

I knew my life was in the hands of the Gods, and I, a mere mortal, would play the role given to me. I prayed to the Gods it included Jimbo.