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    Palantir
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Trouble Plus Trouble. - 25. Chapter 25

The fan club.

Double The Trouble.

Chapter 25.

After sharing plans for the day, Peter and Matthew settled into catching up on their study. At a quarter to two they grabbed their sports bags and walked to school for an hour's training. Brent turned up after his work, and at 3:30 they were sitting in his car wondering where to go.

"Hey, I know. Let's show Brent the river."

"It'll take too long Peter."

"No it won't. Not if we stop at the first river crossing. Half an hour of driving and twenty minutes walking. That's okay."

"Yes, and I bet it's Andy's rules too."

Brent wondered what Andy's rules meant.

"Don’t worry Brent. You'll enjoy them. Peters got them stuck in his brain. We’ll take the camera too and you can be the model for some nature portraits."

"Nature portraits? Like sitting on rocks or logs or something?"

"Yeah ….Something."

An hour later Brent was laughing at them both.

"What? We don't wear anything? Not even our speedos? That's a bit game isn't it? We’re fairly close to those houses still."

"You're a wuss Brent. We've been here twice and there's never any one round. Anyway we’ll go round the corner, so even if someone did come they wouldn't see us."

With lots of laughter and stirring the clothes came off and were hidden behind a big log. Matthew had a small day pack for the camera, which was also sealed inside several plastic bags for protection in case he slipped over, but otherwise they took nothing with them except the footwear they’d organised at Matthew's house. Brent had Matthew’s good reef sandals because they easily adjusted to his bigger feet, while Matthew and Peter had old runners.

They only walked to the bend, which was about a hundred metres, then another fifty metres, and they were at a great spot, the main feature being a small sandy beach, a big flat rock sitting in the water, and a stretch of deeper water heading up the river. There was wrestling and racing, and some bombing off the flat rock which then became the base for some lazy lying in the sun. The camera came out for half an hour and Brent posed for every idea they came up with. It got rude at the end when Matthew told Brent to grab Peter and tickle his belly button. He wanted to get some photos of the famous boner. After another half hour of mucking around in the water they decided to leave. Brent thought it was a great joke and all Peter's fault. He was the first back to the log and let out a great shout as he held up his keys.

"What's he going on about?"

"It's his keys."

After a few more steps though, they could hear him clearly. No clothes? They laughed back at him. That was too obvious to be taken in by.

"You and your special rules Peter. What’re we going to do? Drive home nude?"

He wasn't making it up. Peter and Matthew looked in disbelief at the empty space behind the log. For five seconds Peter looked for some way that Brent might have hidden their things before they left, but they'd all walked off together, it was clear in his memory. Their eyes darted in all directions but nothing was obvious till Brent gave another yell.

"There’s an arrow. Someone's playing funny buggers."

Twenty metres and two more wooden arrows away was another large log, and with a high degree of anticipation they looked behind it.

"Hell. What a wind-up"

Scratched deeply in the sand was a message.

NOT HERE.

"Very funny. Look. There's another arrow."

As far as they could tell there were four sets of foot prints between the arrows, which this time led to another message that had their heads jerking round to search every tree trunk, rock and shrub.

WE’RE WATCHING.

God. They could be anywhere, laughing their heads off. Peter, feeling suddenly ever so much more nude, dropped his hands strategically in front of him and watched Matthew and Brent follow suit. With eyes darting everywhere, they followed another trail of arrows to a message scratched clearly on the soft bark of a tree.

“God Peter, They’re a pack of idiots. It has to be kids. Adults wouldn’t write that. Are you going to do it?”

Matthew giggled.

“We might as well. If they’re not here it doesn’t matter and if they are we could get our clothes back.”

SHAKE YOUR DICKS TO GET YOUR CLOTHS.

“What if it’s some kind of pervert?”

“It wouldn’t be Peter. Not when there’s four of them.”

“I suppose not. It feels kind of like the sort of stuff Andy would do.”

The last sign made them certain it was kids, but it still meant a major problem.

HAHA KEEP SHAKING CLOTHS UNDER BRIDGE

“They are idiots. Look. They can’t even spell.”

“Who cares about spelling Brent? How are we going to get to the bridge?”

“We could wait till dark, then go straight to the car.”

“No way. You have to walk along the main road to get to the church car park and there’s tons of traffic.”

“Someone might have some clothes out drying at one of those houses.”

“Look. The river’s in a gully all the way to the bridge from when you get near the houses. All we have to do is stay in the river and no one will see us. If our clothes aren’t there I’ll find a way to get to my car, then drive close so you can jump in.”

This idea of Brent’s was clearly the most sensible, and half a nerve-wracking hour later the bridge was in view. They left the water and sneaked from tree to tree, shrub to shrub, till they were only ten metres from the bridge. Stacks of cars were crossing, but thank goodness the angle meant they couldn’t see down.

“I can’t see any clothes.”

None of them could, but there was a section under the bridge on the other side that looked like it could be a possibility so Peter headed across to check it out. Halfway across there was a loud wolf-whistle which stopped him in his tracks. From the bridge above four faces were peering down. Brent was right. They were kids, and one look told Peter they’d made their plans. Three of them were holding plastic bags which they lowered a little then stopped. They were all laughing and pointing at Peter, though they couldn’t see much because of his hands. The one without a plastic bag pointed to Brent and Matthew who’d moved to the edge of the water, and yelled.

“We’re watching you.” which sent the others off with more whistles and laughter.

“Not here.”

Oh no. Peter knew what he was going to hear next.

“Shake those Dicks.”

Peter cringed as the other three kids joined loudly in the chant and jiggled the plastic bags. There were houses set back from the river and he hoped no one would decide to investigate the noise.

“Hey guys. That’s the one.”

Peter’s dick was the centre of attention and focus of some very rude comments till Brent arrived and they shifted their attention to him. Matthew got a much milder reception.

“Go on. Give us a show and you get the clothes.”

“You dork-heads. What if we catch you?”

Peter was rather surprised. Brent wasn’t looking one bit worried. In fact, he looked like he was enjoying himself. The ringleader kid grinned back.

“We’ll leave the clothes beside the road if you try.”

“So. What sort of show do you want? Haven’t you ever seen a real dong before?”

“That’s not a real dong. You could tie it in a knot.”

“Every night kid. Every night. Okay, what’s the deal?”

The leader kid looked pleased with himself, and checked to see his mates reactions.

“Just like we said. Shake your dicks and you get the clothes.”

“That’s all? You’re not a pack of little pervs are you?”

Peter would never have said that. It was too challenging, but Brent must have been reading them right because they all laughed.

“They are, but I’m not.”

“Sure Brian. Who stuck it in a vacuum cleaner?”

Now Peter was smiling too. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. They sounded like younger versions of Andy and Marty in a way.

“The one with the white streak first. What’s your name?”

“Matthew.”

“Go on then Matthew. Start shaking. If you stop, the clothes stop.”

Matthew held himself at the base and started flipping himself around. The laughs and comments came thick and fast, but one bundle of clothes also lowered steadily till without any fuss Matthew was able to reach up and grab it.

“Okay big guy. Tie it in a knot then.”

Brent laughed.

“In your dreams. Unless you come down and try it for yourself.”

He didn’t wait for any further instructions, just started shaking himself like Matthew had, and down came the second bundle. Peter looked at the kid with the last bundle, held himself and copied Matthew and Brent. God this felt ridiculous. He stopped straight away. Why weren’t they lowering the clothes?

“Hey, he’s shaking it. Come on.”

“You shake it for him this time.”

“What do you think we are?”

“Go on, he doesn’t mind. You did it to him for the camera.”

Brent didn’t hesitate, just took over and started shaking. Twenty seconds later the bundle had only dropped a quarter the distance and Peter was starting to bone.

"Hey, let it down faster."

"You shake faster and we will."

Brent did exactly that, enjoying this as much as the guys on the bridge. Well, that was Peter’s impression at any rate. By the time the clothes were halfway Peter was at full bone and could see the four faces staring.

"Look at it Brian. I told you it was the biggest."

"Jeez, it's for real."

Evidently they'd seen what they wanted because the clothes dropped, the Brian kid gave a cheeky thumbs up sign, and they all disappeared. Their hoots of laughter and a few more of the wolf-whistles faded in the distance while there was a general rush to sort the clothes and get dressed.

"Let's get out of here."

Matthew grabbed the day pack with the camera and five minutes later the car had coughed to a reluctant start and they were on the way. They didn't get far because Brent started laughing and had to pull the car over. Matthew joined in, and then of course Peter couldn't help himself either.

"God, they really had us didn't they? Your boner’s getting even more famous Peter. Matthew and I got our clothes pinched so they could have a closer look at it."

"You think so?"

"Of course. You heard what they said. They must have been watching when Matthew told me to tickle you. I wonder where they were?"

Matthew was finding this particularly funny.

"I told Peter this morning he was getting world-famous, so now he’s showing it off for everyone."

"I show it off? That's a joke. It was you two and your pervy pictures for the camera."

"Hey Brent, think about it. I was joking about it just this morning and now Peter’s got a boner fan-club. They must have been waiting there for nearly an hour just so they could see it."

The rest of the evening they went on about the fan-club. They grabbed a video, since there was nothing on at the uni cinema, made some steak sandwiches for tea, then settled to watch. Rob sat with them, then the three went up to the bedroom at about eleven. Matthew set the camera downloading to the computer while they had their showers, then there was more stirring about the boner fan-club when they looked through the pictures in their towels. Brent was staying the night and when Matthew turned the lights out he told him he had to get in the middle of the bed. They talked and mucked round for ages before they went to sleep.

The end of chapter 25.

Iarwain.

The fan club.
Copyright © 2011 Palantir; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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