Stripped For Florida: Jason and Amare 2

By Willie B.
williebflorida@gmail.com

Copyright 2012 by Willie B., all rights reserved

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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JASON AND AMARE
 
A Stripped For Florida story in eleven parts
 
 
 
PART TWO
 
Suwannee River
 
It is very satisfying to be sitting next to a fire, deep in the wilderness, sated with good food, pleasantly tired from a day of exertions, soothed by a swim in fresh water and in the company of pleasant people.  It is even nicer to be doing all this naked with the evening air washing a breeze all along your skin.  Jason felt like he was in heaven.  He hadn't even known there was a heaven to be in, and just three days after landing in Florida he was wishing he never had to go back to New Jersey, Great Aunt Josephine or clothes.
 
Gathering up his courage he asked the question that he'd been formulating in his mind all day. "Uncle, you said we could spend this part of our camping trip naked because we wouldn't see any other people.  In New Jersey I've never been naked and I've never seen anyone else naked, but I suppose I could do the same thing we are doing now if I went deep into the Pine Barrens where there aren't many people around.  What I don't understand is that I've already seen, maybe, I don't know . . . well, a lot of naked kids, teenagers, even a few grown ups naked in Florida. So, how does it work?"
 
"You've never been naked?" interjected Amaré.
 
"Are you kidding?" replied Jason.  "Of course not. Well, I don't live in Florida. But I don't understand how people get naked here either."
 
"He means he's never been naked in public," explained Jim patiently. "Where he lives it is not allowed."
 
"Not allowed! You mean his tribe is not that kind of people?  Or not allowed like here in Florida, where I have not been stripped yet?"
 
Jason listened to this bit of conversation with growing confusion.  "What are you talking about?  No, I've never been naked in public.  I heard rumours that kids could be naked in Florida, but I didn't believe it until I walked into the atrium at the airport in Jacksonville.  Then that waiter showed up at our table -- Oh my god -- I couldn't believe it!!!!  That huge photo in the airport, all the kids and guys by the side of the road, at gas stations, in the little towns as we were driving here. I have barely been naked in my own house except to take a bath or, you know . . . well that kind of thing! Now we're just sitting around like it's supposed to be the most normal thing in the world.  So, I sort of feel like I'm in heaven right now with the good food, and no clothes, and being with you two.  But, I still don't get how this is all happening."
 
"I should explain a little," offered Jim. "But I wanted you to have your own experience before you were overwhelmed with some of the irrational aspects of Florida's nudity situation. I'm glad you feel like you're in heaven.  That's a really good thing."
 
"Maybe you can be stripped," offered Amaré.  "Jim says I am not ready, even though I was naked most of my life, before Florida."
 
"Hmm, what?" Jason was as baffled as ever.
 
"Okay, from the beginning.  I'll start with Florida.  Then we'll get to Amaré's situation.  Then maybe to yours, but that is up to you."
 
Jim got up to put another log on the fire and stayed standing to begin his story.  He stretched his arms behind his back and worked his head as if he were getting kinks out of his neck.  "I'm not as young as you two.  That pack puts a little stiffness in my old bones!"  Jason watched his uncle with interest, admiring his sturdy chest muscles and the way his balls swayed when he moved.  He wished Amaré were not in the shadows.  The boy was beautiful.  The proportions of his body, his chiselled features and the way he held himself gave the impression of a tall and regal warrior.  In reality he was no taller than Jason.  Nothing regal about my bearing, mused Jason ruefully.  He made a mental note to get a far better look at Amaré by daylight.
 
"DECENT gave individual localities all over the world much more decentralized control, particularly in setting standards for what people consider 'moral' issues.  Things like drinking age, laws of sexual consent, legal status of gays and lesbians, transgender issues, all sorts of things like that; and, rules about clothing, modesty, nudity and so on.  Some places have made life a living hell for someone like me.  You won't catch me travelling to most places in the world today just to have my sexual orientation land me in jail, or worse."
 
Jason realized his uncle was telling him he was gay.  He looked over at Amaré.  Did he know?  Did he understand what his uncle was saying?  Was . . . and here Jason could hardly admit to his own hopes . . . was Amaré gay?  That was a silly thought.  Why would Amaré be gay just because someone gay adopted him?   And he was only 14 and . . . well, he himself was only 14 and . . .
 
"Florida was lucky in two ways.  Or, I should say we who live in Florida have been lucky in two ways.  First, Florida managed to stay together as one locality.  It could easily have been different.  Miami and Broward County and South Florida could have made their own rules and North Florida could have gone its own obstinate way.  That's been the usual story with Florida.  Secondly, tourism is a big industry in Florida.  With the crackdown in morality laws all over the world Florida realized it could make a good living by going down a different road.  Understand, boys, this is not Nevada.  Florida is a pretty conservative place.  Floridians didn't want everything thrown to the wind with legalized prostitution, gambling, drugs, and so on.  It took a little while and some lobbying by some pretty big interest groups to end up with the strange situation we have today.  But by and large Florida residents are pretty happy.  Thousands of tourists show up to enjoy Florida's climate, attractions and the Strip For Florida program; in turn Floridians don't have to pay much in taxes. In the name of public safety, nudity is very tightly controlled – but the real reason is money."
 
The boys were overwhelmed with the complexity of this explanation and simply sat and waited Jim out.  They figured he'd get to the point eventually.
 
"The point," Jim continued (the boys perked up a little), "is that families can come to Florida on vacation, get their kids stripped completely naked for the duration of their stay, and go home thrilled to have experienced something that would be absolutely unthinkable back home. Of course, they pay cash for the privilege and Floridians benefit in the form of low taxes."
 
"I'd heard those rumours before," interjected Jason, "Is that who all those kids were at the airport? tourists?"
 
"Most of those kids would be tourists.  That big sign you saw with the blond twins . . . that's an advertisement for the Stripped For Florida program.  As soon as you land in Florida, or drive across the border, or show up at a beach or a theme park, and at hundreds of other locations, just look for one of those signs, walk up to an SFF sales booth, plop down your money and your kids have to take off their clothes before they leave the premises."
 
"And then they have to stay naked?" inquired Jason.
 
"Yes, for 70 days or until they leave the state -- whichever comes first." explained Jim.
 
"We also have Quick Strip and SFL," added Amaré.
 
"What are those?" asked Jason.
 
"Those are the programs for residents," Jim continued.  "Quick Strip was the original program in Miami back at the beginning.  The name is a little funny, but they never changed it.  Your parent or guardian purchases what's called a Quick Strip or QS -- it's a sticker with a small microchip that goes under the skin behind your left ear -- and puts it on you.  As soon as it's applied you are required to be nude until you reach adulthood.  In Florida that means you'll be naked until your 21st birthday."
 
"Wait, your parent can just order you to be naked and that's it?" asked Jason incredulously.  "But why would any parent do that?  Do they want their kids naked?"  He couldn't imagine any of the parents he knew in New Jersey encouraging their kids to take their clothes off.  They spent all their time trying to keep their kids properly dressed.
 
"Florida parents seem to be absolutely in love with stripping their kids.  By the time Florida kids reach the age of 18, something like 75% of them have been stripped."  Jim's uncle explained.  "As to why, I suspect it's a combination of the thrill of imposing control on their children and simply enjoying their youthful beauty.  Also, Florida is a warm place.  The Timucuan, Calusa and other peoples who lived in Florida before the Spanish arrived wore little or nothing year round."
 
"So, our waiter, he was under 21?" asked Jason, thinking about the good looking young man who had served them at Waffle House.
 
"Maybe, maybe not. As Amaré mentioned we also have a program called SFL.  It stands for Stripped For Life.  It costs a lot more money and your parents have to pay it all before you reach 18, but it makes it possible to have you stripped in advance for your entire adult life.  Most kids who are in SFL have had the payments made on their behalf by sports agents or other organizations that want to use their talents.  We have nude sports teams, like the Orlando Magic basketball team, for example, that are all Stripped For Life players.  Maybe our waiter was one of those, just passing the time some other way until he gets a playing contract."
 
Jason was confused again, but changed the subject slightly.
 
"So, I could be stripped?  Amaré could be stripped, but you could not be.  Is that right?"
 
"That's it.  Jason, you could be stripped as a visitor to Florida.  When you got ready to leave you'd put your clothes back on and go back to purdah in New Jersey."
 
"Purdah?"  asked Jason.
 
"Sorry, bad joke," replied Jim. "Purdah means curtain in Persian.  It applies to the practice of keeping womenfolk covered up and out of sight behind a curtain that protects the women's quarters of a house.  The British learned of the practice in North India and brought the word into our language.  Yes, you, Jason could be stripped temporarily.  You, Amaré, as you well know, could also be stripped, but as a Florida resident it would be a permanent thing until you turn 21."
 
"It would be fine, Jim," stated Amaré.
 
"We've talked about it a lot.  We'll see."
 
Jason looked from one to the other during this brief interchange.
 
Jim yawned, stretching his arms over his head and giving the boys a good look at his well-kept physique.  "I've had a big day.  I'm afraid the rest of this conversation will have to wait until tomorrow.  Amaré, Jason, you're going to share the little tent.  I'm going to pull my sleeping bag out here by the fire and sleep under the stars.  Find a place nearby to pee and don't stay up all night talking." 
 
The boys laughed.  They were getting more at ease with one another, but neither one was going to match Jim for talkativeness.
 
* * *
 
Jason woke to the blinding glare of sun as seen from the inside of a tent.  For a moment he panicked that he had slept until noon.  The feeling was soon interrupted by the awareness that he had a rock hard morning erection, was totally naked, and skin to skin with another naked boy.  Perhaps he could ease himself out the tent flap and find a place to pee before Amaré awoke.  Moving just a little he felt a hand on his dick.  Jason moved his head just a bit to the side and found Amaré grinning at him, his other hand around his own rock hard erection. 
 
"Come with me," said Amaré, "I want to show you something!"  The boy let go of both erections, scooted down the tent, unzipped the flap and held it open.  Jason hesitated a moment, then remembered that they'd been naked all afternoon the day before. He shrugged to himself and scooched his way out of the tent.
 
The boys ran through the palmettos, Jason running hard to keep up with the fleet-footed Amaré. Within a few minutes they were running through a surreal landscape of strangely shaped obtrusions rising up out of the damp ground.  Amaré twisted and turned, winding his way through the knobbly things, jumping fallen logs and splashing through tiny streams that wound their way through the trees.  Suddenly the glare of sun was upon them and Jason could see a wide river expanse in front of them.  They had fished for dinner last night, but it must have been a smaller tributary.  This river was wide.  Cypress trees lined the banks with their wide hipped trunks anchoring them firmly in the water-soaked soil under water. 
 
Amaré did not stop in his run but turned it into a long, stretched out dive and firm-stroked swimming out into the river.  A great egret spread its wings like laundry billowing on a clothesline and settled down the bank away from the boisterous boys. Jason's dive was not as smooth, but he swam hard to catch up.  Halfway across the river Amaré flipped under the water and rose facing Jason, splashed water at him and dove under again.  When he came up he was several yards up stream, yelling for Jason to catch up.  They swam and dove and splashed one another for a while, and then Amaré swam to the near side of the river and abruptly stood up.  Jason gawped: the water only came up to Amaré's knees!  Swimming over to join him Jason realized that a rock outcropping came out this far from the bank and the river water slid silently over the shallows.  Tiny fish darted here and there in the water. Looking across the river Jason realized it was much earlier than he had suspected, the sun just now fully rising over the treetops. 
 
Amaré laughed, a bright and happy sound, glad to be here on this river with a friend!  This was like home.  "Come," he beckoned, "I think I know how to find something good."  He waded through the shallows, stepping high in the water and placing his feet deliberately to avoid slipping on the mossy limestone.  After a bit he turned toward the bank and Jason felt the ground beneath his feet all gooey and slippery.  "Yuck, this feels gross.  Let's walk on the rock part again."
 
"No, no, this is good, let me show you."  Amaré bent down, his torso arcing into a long reach. Jason took a moment to be distracted by Amaré's movements.  His limbs seemed long, delicate and strong at the same time.  His buttocks pulled up into well defined muscles that merged into his back that at this moment bent down like a taut bow into the shoulder, the arm, the fingers now feeling under water.  Amaré's penis, like his limbs, was slender and long.  Graceful, thought Jason.  His penis has a graceful presence, extending out and pointing into the long extension of the foreskin.  "See," said Amaré, rising back up, his hand extended to show Jason a handful of the gooey stuff he could feel beneath his feet.
 
Jason was mystified.  This was supposed to be good?  Something Amaré had walked up river specially to show him?  Okay, he shrugged, he'd go along with it.  "Nice," he said.
 
"This is like my home, where I was a child.  Every morning we went to special places in the river to find the clay.  We can do this together.  Let me show you."  Amaré extended his hand, placed it on Jason's chest and dragged the muddy clay down his torso,  He splayed his fingers and swirled them, and with his fingertips tapped little dots around the swirls.  Amaré reached down for another glob of goo and streaked it down Jason's arms.  Amaré took clumps of the clay in each hand and passed them down each side of Jason's crotch, zigzagging lines all down the front of Jason's legs.  Then he stood up and began working around Jason's eyes, cheekbones, and chin.  Amaré stood back to assess his work.  He stepped back a little to get a good view of Jason's entire body.  Then he reached for more mud and started work on the back.  When his hands reached his buttocks, Jason forced himself to relax.  It was actually enjoyable.  He didn't know what all this mud play was for, but he could always wash it off in the rive--and besides, he had to admit he liked the feeling of Amaré's hands and the sensual quality of the mud.
 
Amaré now came back around front and cocked his head with concentration.  "I will do the last part now, is that okay?"  he asked.
 
Not sure what he meant, Jason simply nodded.
 
To his surprise Amaré walked right up and took the tip of Jason's penis.  He pulled it out as far as it would easily extend from Jason's body and began working a design of slashes and dots with the tips of his fingers.  Jason could feel himself hardening up under the touch.  There was nothing he could do about it and Amaré had a surprisingly good hold on the end.  As his penis engorged with blood Amaré nodded with satisfaction and used the expanded skin area to further develop the design he was inscribing. 
 
"It is good.  You are now looking like my brother!  It is your turn to do me."
 
"Can I see what I look like, first," asked Jason, hoping to get an idea of what he was supposed to be doing before trying to decorate his new friend.
 
"Oh, yes, come look in the water." Amaré led Jason by the hand to the very edge of the river where the current was still and the water mirror smooth in the shadows cast by overhanging trees.  Jason looked down.  He was amazed.  The goo had dried and the designs stood out sharp and clear against the colour of his skin.  The movement and energy of the lines and dots, spirals and slashes looked like the expert markings made by some expressionist artist. At the same time, there was a natural quality Jason had never seen in any painting.  It was as if he had been transformed into some kind of animal.  The way a human would look if dappled like a cheetah or striped like a zebra.  He felt awkward comparing himself to animals he had never seen.  Somehow, even a child of New Jersey suburbs has an idea that wildness exists.  Jason smiled!  "I like it."
 
Amaré grinned with pleasure. Like light bounced off a mirror the grin spread to Jason's face.  The two boys beamed at one another.
 
"I'll try to do it as well for you," murmured Jason.  He reached under the water and began his first attempt at applying the clay to skin.  It was harder than he had hoped, but more enjoyable than he had imagined.  This was a wonderful way to make skin contact with another human being, especially a boy as attractive and responsive and gorgeous as . . . Jason could not think up all the adjectives he would use to describe Amaré.  What a fantastic person he was, and here they were daubing one another's naked skin in the middle of a river in the middle of the wilderness.
 
"Look," noted Amaré quietly, extending an arm and a pointed finger towards the river.  Jason followed the line of Amaré's gesture and saw two low bumps and a low, rough darkness on the surface of the water.  It looked like a log, but was definitely moving faster than the river current.  "Alligator," stated Amaré.
 
"Shit, there are gators in this river?" blurted Jason in alarm.  "What the hell are we doing here?"  Jason had not thought to put the "wild" part in the word wilderness.  He figured this was a scenic place with fish and birds and turtles, but alligators?
 
"Don't worry, this isn't their feeding time.  Besides, that gator is busy going someplace."
 
Jason wondered at Amaré's calmness, but decided to trust him for the moment.  He would definitely need to ask his Uncle Jim about alligators and safety.  "Does Uncle Jim know where we are?  We've been away from camp for awhile now."
 
"Yes, it is no problem.  I told him last night I was going to bring you to the mud and make you into one of my brothers."
 
"You thought of this last night?"
 
"For longer than that.  This is a special place.  That is why we came here.  In my home in Ethiopia, my brothers and I we decorated each other many times each day.  It is a good way to be strong together.  Friends.  It is what I want for you and me."
 
Jason found himself without words.  Biting his lip he looked into Amaré's eyes and nodded.
 
"Looks like two Omo boys have found their way to North Florida!!!" Jim laughed happily at the site of the decorated boys emerging out of dappled sunlight.  Wisps of smoke rose up from the fire circle.  "Anyone hungry, or did you already catch a gator?"
 
"What's an Omo boy?" asked Jason.
 
"That is the river of my old home," responded Amaré. "It is a good river, like this one.  Water, fish and beautiful clay for painting."
 
Jason nodded thoughtfully. A good description of a place: necessity and beauty.
 
The boys were famished after their morning adventures and ate silently for quite some time.  Jim simply sat on a rock and watched them, sipping on a cup of hot coffee.  He hadn't bothered to dress this morning, either.  The sun was higher now and shone down between the trees.  Jim thought how naturally the human body meshed with Florida climate, bereft of cloth and covering.  The breezes dried the sweat from the body, keeping it naturally cool.  He mused over the thought of the tall and well-formed Timucuan rowing their long water craft up the river, stepping lightly through the woods and making camp just where they sat now.  Instead of coffee they may have been drinking the bitter caffeinated beverage of yaupon holly.  Perhaps Floridians could feel the ancient ways and were reluctant to become as clothing obsessed as the rest of the country.  He shook his head and laughed at his own nonsense.  Few remembered that Timucuan or Calusa had ever lived here.  Money was the reason, pure money and greed!
 
"What is funny, Jim," asked Amaré, hearing Jim's laugh.
 
"Just laughing at my own silly self.  For a moment I thought perhaps Floridians loved naked children so much because they remembered the old ways of the people who used to live here."
 

 

END OF PART TWO

 




   
(The End)