In this next chapter of the backwoods novella BAT IN A WHIRLWIND, Ben and Danny have their own private senior party.
To read BAT IN A WHIRLWIND, Chapter 9. GETTING NAKED, right click here and select “Open,” or to download as a free pdf file to read at your leisure whenever, select “Save Target (or Link) As.” You can access the previous 8 chapters for reading or download from the chapter list on the book page.
BAT IN A WHIRLWIND
Excerpt from Chapter 9. – Getting Naked
I told Daddy right away about Danny coming up and renting a cabin and us having our own private senior party. He actually chuckled, “Well, you make sure Ed Norton signs in the register and pays his three dollars.” He even agreed that I wouldn’t have to work till one o’clock so maybe we could go for a hike tomorrow morning.
However, this evening Daddy had to take Mom to an ice cream social affair over at the Belcher place, so I had to work for him. It was fairly busy, keeping me running, and I figured it was a good trade-off for tomorrow morning. It also kept me from watching the clock and thinking about my friend’s arrival.
He showed up right at the promised time, and I rejoiced to see him in a brief moment between customers. We registered him in the motel book as Mr. Ed Norton from Brooklyn for number five, the nice one out by the woods. I told him it was the honeymoon cabin, and he gave me a wicked wink. Then, while I kept working, Danny hung out happily with the pinballs. In passing I’d peek in at him every chance I got, just for his smile.
The folks got home shortly before ten from their party, and it was time for ours. Danny carried some Cokes and ice down to number five, and I ran over to the house for my cards and radio. Going down to the cabin, I trotted along through the pine shadows from the low half-moon and suddenly felt as though I was in some other reality. The window of the cabin glowed with the lamp through white curtains, an almost magical place.
When I walked in, I got a huge surprise to find Danny with all his clothes off, buck-naked, lounging on the bed with a Roi-Tan and a water-glass of brown drink. He laughed, “I like to be comfortable when I get drunk. Have a rum and Coke, good buddy.”
He went over to the dresser and poured me a drink. Meanwhile, I shucked out of my clothes too and told him how I always like to get naked, roaming out in the woods and even swinging on vines in trees like Tarzan. Danny handed me the glass and brushed the hair on my chest, laughing, “Benny of the Apes. But Tarzan wore pants.”
“Only in the movies,” I insisted. “I bet Mrs. Gorilla didn’t sew him any lace panties.”
Danny laughed and raised his glass. “Drink up, Benny-boy.”
I took a good slug of my drink. It was sweet and sneaky at the back of my nose. Danny sprawled out on the bed again and left his cigar to go out in the ashtray, which I silently appreciated. He remarked, “I’ve never been naked outside. Oh, yeh, skinny-dipping at the river, but not just walking around.”
I plugged in the radio and got up on the bed with my drink and the deck of cards. The music came on with “The Happy Organ,” quite a circus-y way to start off a party. Sitting tailor-fashion cross-legged, I took another sip and started shuffling the cards. The drink tasted even better now that the fumes up my nose weren’t so strange. And it felt so natural sitting here with Danny like this, just the two of us with nothing on and nothing else to do.
We started out playing blackjack poker, and whenever you lost, you had to take a huge slug of your drink. After several rounds of winning and losing and as many slugs, the both of us were in mighty relaxed moods, chattering and laughing and carrying on over our cards. When the radio started that really silly old song “Purple People Eater,” we commenced giggling hysterically and scattered cards all over.
With yet another drink, maybe our third, we gathered up the cards and switched to gin rummy. After a few hands and still another drink, I got up for the bathroom and felt happily blurry, so light, not really connected to the floor. Back on the bed, I found Danny had dealt. While I arranged the cards in my hand, he remarked, “I wanna get my rocks off pretty soon.” I called him a sex-fiend, and he asked, “What else am I supposed to do with a boner on?”
“Just ignore it,” I said. “When I get a hard on out in the woods or whatever, I ignore it.” To be truthful with him, I added, “Most of the time.”
Danny leaned back on the pillows at the head of the bed and considered his cards. Then he looked down at his crotch and sighed, “Show me how to ignore that.” His prick was slowly quivering and lifting, growing, that secret head slipping out of its hood, peeking at me like a little animal. I couldn’t ignore it. It was hypnotic.
He tossed his cards aside, laughed, and asked, “And what about that?” He pointed at what was happening to me too. He grinned guiltily, looking cuter than anybody should.
Leaping up off the bed, I babbled, “Just don’t touch it! Don’t look at it! Or think about it! Do something else!” Feeling dizzy from the booze, I marched back and forth looking at the ceiling and got more and more confused.
Danny jumped up from the bed and said, “I know what. We can go outside.” It sounded like a good idea to me. Even though the soles of my feet were tough as leather, I’d learned from experience to wear shoes outside at night in case of stepping on things you can’t see. So we looked plain silly all naked in just shoes, no socks, and I could hardly stop laughing. Even so, our erections weren’t discouraged.