Up The Waterfall (excerpt from "1973: The Sum

[Chapter One of "1973: The Summer of Cock," a novel in progress by Everett Marx.] My friend Hank and I cut school one spring afternoon and drove to the waterfall for diving and a few beers. We’d been diving awhile when a small motorboat eased close and two older guys—not *old* just older, college age, one with a full beard—asked us if we’d care for a ride. We said sure and rode around the lake sipping beer in the sunshine. The driver drove, keeping his back to us. The other one sat facing us on whatever that thing is in the middle of small boats. (I’m a landlubber, despite being born near the ocean.) He spread his legs and his cut-off jean shorts were like a skirt underneath—we could see all he had. I was so naïve, I thought, “Man, would he be embarrassed if he knew we could see his thing!” But as the boat circled the water and the beer circled my brain, I found myself staring at his cock. It wasn’t huge, but it fascinated me. “How do you like the view?” he asked. My friend Hank answered first. “I love to see sunshine on the rippling water.” I blushed because I knew that isn’t the view I had been enjoying. The guy flashing me his goods just smiled at me knowingly. After the boat took us back to the waterfall, Hank and I started our hike back up. The bearded guy followed us and I hung back, hoping. Halfway up, he put his hand on my shoulder. “Ever had a show like that before?” He whispered in my ear, all breathy and cocky. “N-no,” I sputtered. He took my hand and guided it up under his ‘skirt’. I really didn’t know what to do and started squeezing and jerking clumsily. “Whoa, pardner, don’t break it off. Just stroke it nice and easy.” He reached into my pants and found me hard. He knelt to suck me and I felt awkward because I wanted to suck him, though I didn’t know how. I came in just a few seconds, my mind ablaze with hellfire sermons, desire, confusion, anxiety, and Hank’s voice. “What the fuck are you doing?” Hank had walked back down the fall and found us. I couldn’t look his way. The bearded guy eased my cock out of his mouth and said to Hank, “He’s doing what comes naturally. If you don’t think you’re gonna go home and beat off thinking about this, you’re a fool.” “Fucking queers!” Hank turned and stormed off. I had to catch a ride home with the guys from the boat. They took the long way.