Archive-name: FirstGay/ftg094.txt

Archive-author: 

Archive-title: Jason's Shower House:  Part I.





When I was 15, I spent 3 weeks of my summer vacation with my friend

Jason (Not his real name) at the Jersey shore.  Jason's parents owned

a beachfront bungalow 1/2 mile from a popular boardwalk.  We spent

most of our days either hanging out at the boardwalk, swimming or

just basking inthe sun.  At night, we stayed up late in Jason's bedroom

bullshiting and trying to impress each other with what little we

actually understood about sex.  We had each "discovered" masturbation

on our own, and had cautiously breeched the subject in our late night

discussions.    One afternoon, we bribed one of the adult "characters"

who frequented the boardwalk to buy us two bottles of cheap, sugary

wine (Boone's Farm) and we hid underneath the boardwalk, quickly

consuming the "evidence" to avoid being caught.  The immediate effect

was predictable: we both became gloriously drunk!  The subsequent

effect was also predictable: Jason lost his cookies and puked all

over himself.  Fearing the thought of returning to the bungalow and

having to explain matters to Jason's mother, I devised a plan to

first clean Jason up.  I would give him my pants to replace his soiled

outfit and I would wear the bathing suit I had on underneath.  We

went in to a public rest room to change.  It had those damn coin-operated

pay toilets so we were forced to crawl under the stall door to get

in.  Although we got looks from others in the rest room, we made

it.   (CONTINUED in Part II.)



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