Chocolate and Vanilla

Stripped For Florida: Chocolate and Vanilla

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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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Chocolate and Vanilla

by Willie B. Florida
all rights reserved
comments welcome to williebflorida@gmail.com

Author's comment: For those of you who follow the Stripped For Florida stories, this is one of the early ones, at the very beginning of the program when there were as yet no naked boys and girls running around in most of Florida. Enjoy, WB.

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Lars and Tyrone: the two boys are a study in contrasts and similarities. They have known each other since first grade, but not until middle school did they become best friends. Intelligent, studious, creative would be positive attributes that their classmates would ascribe to them. Tyrone has become more inclined to the outdoors through his friendship with Lars, while Lars has come to appreciate music and singing from Tyrone. Neither boy is particularly athletic. While Lars is generally well liked, but he does not put much stock in social popularity. Tyrone suffered from terrible insecurity and shyness in primary school. He is now much more outgoing and gregarious than Lars, but this has not translated into his being among the most popular.

As for differences, Lars is vanilla: his pale skin reflects Scandinavian ancestry, his blond hair wispy about his head. High cheekbones accentuat sharp features and blue eyes. He gives the impression of being taller than his actual height by virtue of long legs and slender proportions. HIs creativity tends toward the visual arts, design and the imagining of elaborate landscapes, structures and civilizations. Middle school has brought with it a sexual drive that is deep, intense and somewhat overwhelming to the boy.

Tyrone is chocolate: his skin dark with reddish undertones of some ancient east African source. His hair is dark and tight against his head. His features are well defined, with prominent cheekbones and sculpted nose and piercing brown eyes. He is indeed tall, both in appearance and by measurement. His creativity is in his body kinetics, in his voice and in musical aptitude. Adolescence is upon him, but his sexual expression as yet lies simmering beneath the surface.

The most obvious behavioral difference between the two best friends is known only to closest friends and family. Lars is naked at any possible opportunity. He seems oblivious to any sense of modesty. Quite clearly he simply can't stand clothing and finds it an unnatural impediment to be dispensed with if not absolutely required. Since Florida law and school rules stipulate that a boy can't be out and about in the nude, Lars wears what he has to. Tyrone is so fully in his body that even a walk from the curb to the doorway is a study in dance. The inner music of his mind can almost be heard out loud by watching him stand at the blackboard working out a problem in class. He dances, he moves, he sings, he plays the drums and clarinet and trombone. He wears his clothes as if they had grown on him. He doesn't mind Lars his nakedness, but Lars does spend some thought on what it would be like if his friend's smooth brown skin were more on display.

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Lars holds the drawing compass ready to twirl between his fingers, his elbow up high by his brow, the better to view Tyrone's head through the crook of his own arm. He sweeps the pencil in its arc. Tyrone, bent over his work is oblivious to this particular artistic exercise of arm, elbow, angle and arc.

In the hallway after class Lars gives his best friend a light tap on the shoulder. "Caught you daydreaming in geometry."

"Was not."

"You were. But I captured you in my new circadian rhythm machine."

"You're writing music?"

"No, but I bet you were."

"Okay," admits Tyrone, "I wasn't exactly daydreaming, but I finished the proof and got to thinking up a new song."

"I was designing a piece of my Arcamian civilization, a way to make the cycles of day and night have a variable rhythm."

"That's cool! That is like music, but with light and dark -- the planet dancing through space. I wonder what would happen if a planet didn't have a regular rotation speed. Do you think people would feel it accelerate and slow down?"

The boys are off on a wild tangent, babbling their way down the hall to lunch.

After school the boys walk to Lars' house. Tyrone isn't really surprised that Lars has his clothes nearly off by the time they walk in the door, his backpack and shirt thrown on the floor as soon as he steps inside.

"Hi, mom, we're home!" Lars yells.

"Hello Ms. Petersen." Tyrone greets Lars' mother politely as they enter the kitchen.

"How was school, boys?" She takes no notice of her son's nudity. Tyrone figures the boy has probably been naked at home since the day he was born. He's certainly never seen his friend clothed at home since they've started hanging out. He's always known Lars in the we-all-go-to-school-together sort of way. But this year something shifted -- changed completely, in fact -- and they are now the inseparable duo. Tyrone isn't sure how he feels about it, except that every day they are either at his house or Lars'. Ms. Petersen puts out a snack for them and leaves them to do their homework, interspersed with conversation, singing, and throwing wads of paper at each other while giggling hysterically.

"Tyrone," yells Lars, "wanna shoot some hoops?" The lithe blond boy runs out the front door, grabs the basketball from alongside the curb and throws it toward the net where it misses. Tyrone stands in the doorway laughing.

"Man, you suck at this," he taunts. How can Lars just stand in the street stark naked?

They play for awhile and are joined by the others from the neighborhood. Carl and Carlita--the twins from across the street--Raj, and Samantha whom everyone calls "Sam." They're a lll used to seeing a naked Lars. After a bit his mother calls and he and Tyrone go in.

"Lars," she chides, "one of these days you're going to be picked up by the police."

"For what?"

"Indecent exposure, I believe they call it. You know I don't care, but it is the law and you're not a little boy any more."

Lars looks down at his growing penis and grins. His birthday is coming up soon. He doesn't want to be a little boy any more. But, still, he hates clothes.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Petersen, I can't stay for dinner tonight," Tyrone apologizes. "I had to reschedule my music lesson for this evening."

The two friends say good-bye. At loose ends, Lars wanders into his room and decides to have a masturbation session. The first orgasm feels so good that he lays on his bed and makes himself come two more times. An hour well spent, he lies daydreaming on his back, his naked body splattered with drying cum.

"Lars?"

"Oh, hi dad," the boy murmurs softly while staring up at the ceiling.

His dad walks from the open doorway and pats his son's belly in greeting, checking his hand for wet cum afterwards. "How many this time?"

"Three."

His dad nods. "Mom says it's time for dinner. Why don't you rinse off before making your appearance?"

At the table Lars brings up a subject he's been ruminating over. "I heard a rumor that kids in Miami can go to school naked. Do you think that's true?"

"From what I understand, yes, parents can decide to have their kids be naked. But, it's only in the two counties by Miami. Also, once a kid is naked in public they have to stay that way until they turn 18."

"That would be great! Do you think that will happen here?"

"I'm really not sure."

"Can we move?"

"Honey, I'm sorry, but moving isn't that easy. We have a house, jobs; you have friends, Tyrone."

"Yeah," Lars nodded. He couldn't move away from Tyrone. "You're right. I just wish . . . "

"Keep wishing. Meanwhile, you're naked most of the time as it is," his dad points out.

"Not in school. And mom keeps telling me I have to stop playing in the street."

"Not to change the subject," interjects his mother, "but what do you want to do for your birthday."

"You know, the usual. My friends come over, we have a cake."

"You'll be naked," adds his dad.

"Do you have any new friends you want to have over this year?"

"Tyrone, Carl and Carlita, Uncle A, Tyrone's mom, Sam, Raj." Lars adds with a giggle, "and of course the two of you."

"Okay, sounds good," his mom confirms, "I'll make you the same cake as usual, too, unless you want that changed."

"No, the cake is always perfect." Lars' mother always makes chocolate cake with chocolate icing and that's exactly what Lars wants every year.

* * *

The boys barge into the house, screen door banging behind them. Tyrone throws his backpack onto the bench beside the door and takes off his shoes.

"Tyrone, is that you?" calls his mother from the back of the house.

"Me and Lars."

"I'm doing laundry. Could you bring me all the dirty clothes from your room, please. Take off what you're wearing, too, so I can wash everything."

Lars helps Tyrone carry laundry from his room. His mother stands by the laundry shed on the back deck loading clothes into the machine. Tyrone strips down to his boxers and hands the rest to his mom.

"You, too, Lars," his mother says, "I'll have everything clean and dry in time for you to go to school in the morning."

Lars strips down to nothing and hands over his clothes, glad to be rid of them until morning.

"Why are you so shy Tyrone?" asks his mother. "Lars doesn't mind stripping down. Aren't I your own mother? And I'm sure you have nothing to hide from your best friend, the way you two carry on."

"Mom!" protests Tyrone and turns to go inside.

• • •

Tyrone's mom keeps the laundry and dryer cycle going all evening, leaving Tyrone in uncharacteristically minimal dress. Lars enjoys seeing his friend clad only in boxers, but Tyrone appears uncomfortable. Nevertheless, they have a fun evening. They finish their homework and eat supper. Lars listens while Tyrone practices first his clarinet and then works out the drum kit in the garage. They sprawl on the living room floor and play a game of Chinese checkers, Lars' pale naked body is bright against the carpet, a contrast to Tyrone's dark hued skin clad in blue and white boxers.

"Boys, it's time to get ready for bed."

Lars and Tyrone jostle one another in front of the sink, brushing their teeth. Lars stands at the toilet and pees, but Tyrone waits until Lars is out of the room, closes the door and uses the toilet in privacy.

Tyrone's mother always insists that Lars get the bed. "He's your guest, Tyrone."

"I really don't mind Ms. Williams."

"I know, honey. But Tyrone needs to learn how to treat a guest, even if you are here nearly every other day!"

Lars laughs and crawls onto the single bed. Tyrone settles down on the air mattress on the floor.

"Good night boys. Don't stay up playing all night." She gives them a wink and shuts off the lights, leaving the door open just a crack.

The sound of light rain fills the room. A soft glimmer shines through the window from the street lamp. A cat meows outside. The tapping of footsteps, someone heading down the way, the hum and shift of gears of a car from a block away.

"What are you doing?" asks Tyrone from the floor.

"Playing with myself," Lars answers in an easy voice.

Tyrone lies in silence looking up into the dark.

"Tyrone . . . "

"Hmmm . . . "

"Can I sleep with you?"

"I'm tired. I guess I gotta go to sleep now. Maybe another night." Tyrone's standard answer.

Lars is on his back, his fingers idly stroking his erection. He looks over the edge of the bed and catches Tyrone's eye.

"You're not asleep." Lars crawls down and lies beside Tyrone, his naked skin nearly touching his friend's body. He lies there for awhile quietly, waiting for Tyrone to protest. The rain outside grows a little louder, no longer just a drizzle. A breeze blows in through the window, cool on their uncovered bodies. Lars reaches out with his hand and lays it on Tyrone's belly. The skin feels soft and hot. He can feel his friend's breathing, the belly rising and falling. He imagines Tyrone's dick getting harder. It is all he can do to keep his hand from slipping down and under the waistband of Tyrone's boxers. He can't help himself. He's imagined it too many times. With one quick movement Lars sits up, pulls Tyrone's boxers down just far enough, and sucks the hard chocolate dick into his mouth.

Tyrone gasps but Lars has him. He sucks him into his mouth and into his throat and laps his tongue along the tip. Tyrone considers protesting, but it feels too, too good. Lars imagines his own hard penis inside Tyrone's mouth. What would feel good, what should he do? He wishes he knew more about sex so that he could give his friend the best pleasure. He fumbles with Tyrone's dick, feeling awkward, but continuing to suck. He knows that if he stops Tyrone will pull out, push him away, roll over and go to sleep.

Lars feels cool wind blow across his shoulder blades, Tyrone's penis hot in his mouth. He puckers his lips like a goldfish and giggles at the image. Tyrone squirms and Lars pushes down on him to keep him in position. Tyrone's hips buck upwards with force. Lars worries that his teeth might get knocked out but sucks away as fast as he can. A blast of hot sperm fills Lars' mouth; he tries to swallow but is overwhelmed with the gush. Sperm spills out onto Tyrone's body as he continues to ejaculate. Lars manages to swallow the next blast but the slippery member slips out of his mouth. The next jet hits him in the face and he falls back against his friend gasping for breath, licking gobs of sperm from his lips and laughing, laughing. Tyrone reaches over and pulls him close. They lie there, long bodies tight against one another, cold ejaculate squeezed between them. They lie wordlessly until sleep catches them. Tyrone's mother peeks through the crack in the door on the way to bed. She smiles at the smell in the air and their embrace and comes in quietly to cover them with a blanket.

* * *
Swim rotation in P.E. at the public pool across the street. "Showers are absolutely required," orders the coach. "Anyone who doesn't comply does laps around the track for the whole period."

Lars lets the cold water sluice over his naked body. Around him the other boys wear board shorts, dashing into the water just long enough to get wet. Lars jacks his penis until it is hard, and slips into his light blue bikini suit while still under the shower. He runs his hand over the nylon material to position his erection straight up. His hard-on barely inside the suit, Lars catches the coach's eye and dives into the water.

Coming up for air he glimpses Tyrone plummet from the high dive like a hawk dropping out of the sky.

* * *
Lars dawdles on the way home, scuffing his shoes against the pavement and kicking acorns. School was okay, but when they got outside Ms. Williams was in the car waiting for Tyrone. Something about a great-aunt in the hospital.

"I'm sorry, honey," she consoled Lars. "Ordinarily I'd take you with, but she's in the ICU and the hospital is limiting the number of visitors." Tyrone got into the front seat and they drove off.

It wasn't just that. Sucking Tyrone off had been such a daring action. His friend had obviously enjoyed it, so why wasn't he eager to do more? Nearly a week had gone by. They'd spent three more nights in the same room, but Tyrone had gone to sleep instantly every time -- or at least pretended to, Lars thinks to himself, feeling glum. Eventually they'll do it again, Lars consoles himself, or maybe even more!

As slowly as he walks, Lars still arrives home. He turns the door knob and kicks the door open, something his mother chastises him for every time she catches him. He drops his backpack on the floor, kicks off his shoes and automatically begins undoing his pants. A pair of strong hands lifts him off the ground and turns him upside down. Lars let out a yell.

"Uncle A!!!" Adrian is Lars' favorite uncle and he's called him "A" for short ever since he was a toddler. "When did you get here?"

"Well, well, getting taller and longer by the minute. It hasn't been, what, two months since I last saw you and you're almost as tall as me!"

"That's not true at all," protests Lars, still hanging upside down. Adrian is nearly seven feet tall and he holds the boy as easily as a leaf hangs on the branch of a tree. Adrian walks through the house and out to the back porch where he flips Lars back onto his feet.

"Let's get you out of all this stuff and see what's in the package!" His uncle undoes the buttons on Lars shirt, unzips the his pants and pulls them down. "Nice underwear," he remarks.

"I don't wear underwear," giggles Lars, "you know that."

"And what about this?" Adrian asked, pulling Lars' penis out as far as it will go from the boy's body. "How many times a day?"

"Um, I don't know . . . "

"Oh, sure. I know you keep careful count. Three, four, something like that?"

"Well, today, only once."

"Only once!" his uncle exclaims in mock horror. "Let's see if we can remedy that."

Adrian reaches both hands around the boy, pulls him up against his body and slowly jacks him to full erection. He spits on one hand and brings it back and pulls down hard, slowly pulling back up. Lars gasps and closes his eyes in pleasure. He lies back against his Uncle A's strong chest, feeling his uncle's muscular thighs on either side of his hips, and relinquishes himself to the full pleasure of being brought moment by moment to the inevitable. White sperm shoots through the air and falls in long arcs across the back porch. His uncle continues to hold him while he regains his breath.

They walk into the kitchen where Lars' mother is just putting a fresh batch of cookies on the table. "I'm starving," announces Lars.

Adrian laughs. "He's still a champion shooter. Works up an appetite in a boy every time."

His mother laughs. "You're incorrigible, you know that!" she teases her brother.

"He takes after me. What can I say?"

Lars looks from one to the other. "What do you mean?" he asks, "I take after you."

"He spent his youth naked and cumming, that's what he means," replies his mother with a smile. "He still can't think of anything else."

Adrian grins at Lars who grins back.

* * *

Lars is lying on the floor. Tyrone is lying in Lars' bed and pretending to be asleep.

"My uncle visited yesterday." Lars informs the darkness.

There is silence.

"He jacked me off again, on the back porch. Then my mom gave us milk and cookies."

"She watched you cum?"

"I think she told him I like it."

Lars is naked. He lies on his thin mattress trying to will Tyrone to move off the bed and cuddle him. Maybe he could invent a machine that would synchronize the rhythms of desire. It would be like one of Tyrone's solos, slow beats building up to wild frenzies where the sticks fly across the drums and crashes, mellowing into a steady rhythm of wire brushing across skin.

"Tyrone?"

"Hmm . . . "

"Do you think about music all the time?"

"Usually, yeah."

"Is that what you're thinking about right now?"

Tyrone clambers off the bed. He is wearing dark blue pajama bottoms, his exposed torso black in the darkness. He pauses, standing over the prone Lars.

"May I . . . ?"

"Oh, sure. There's plenty of room." Lars scrambles to make extra room on the mattress.

Tyrone lies down and wriggles into a comfortable position. Lars feels fingers reach tentatively down his chest to his belly. A tingle shoots through his body and he shivers.

"Is this how . . . what did your uncle . . . can you show me?"

Lars guides Tyrone's fingers lower, brushes them along his hardening penis and back across his scrotum. He keeps his hand on Tyrone's until his friend grasps him and begins playing with him in earnest.

"Like this?" Tyrone questions, fingers wrapped around Lars' now fully erect shaft.

"Harder." Tyrone pulls down.

"Pretend I'm you. Like you're doing yourself. You won't hurt me."

Tyrone grins in the darkness. "Are you sure? You don't know how hard I do myself."

"How many times a day?" Lars asks, delighted to be having this conversation. "Don't stop while you talk, please, it feels so much better than when I do myself."

"How many times do you?" Tyrone insists.

"Um, usually four. Sometimes three. I'd do more but I run out of time. I do it more if you're not here -- but I'd rather you were here," he adds hastily, concerned he's giving the wrong impression.

"Shit! You are an oversexed boy, do you know that? Do your parents know what a monster they created."

"You think it's too much?" asks Lars seriously.

"I have no idea. It's not like I've taken a poll of boys our age."

"So, what about you . . . ooh, that's good, keep doing that!"

"I guess twice a day, usually, unless I'm with you -- then I do it less. If I'm alone it's always once in the morning and once before I go to sleep."

"You . . . ohhh! You don't have to do it less when you're with me. . . shit, I can't talk!"

Tyrone brings Lars through the home stretch with a last round of quick strokes and then holds his hand firm and still to feel the pulsing ejaculations as Lars goes into paroxysms of orgasm. They lie quietly, dark against light in the darkened room.

"Tyrone, that was wonderful."

"What did you mean, I don't have to do it less?" Tyrone asks, his voice just above a whisper.

"You can make yourself come when you're with me. I don't mind. I'd like it. Or, I could make you come. We could do each other."

Tyrone nods, and then thoughts gave way to sleep.

* * *

"I figured out the perfect thing to give Lars for his birthday." Tyrone's mother is cleaning house. Every Saturday morning she goes through the house like a whirlwind with vacuum cleaner, mop, cleanser, sponges and the works. Tyrone tries to stay out of the way of the frenzy.

"I was planning to give him Aquerell pencils, he's wanted those for a long time," replies Tyrone. "Will you give me money to buy the big set?"

"Of course I'll give you money, but I want to give him my present idea, too."

"Okay, as long as I can give him the big set of colored pencils."

"You got it. So, his party is next Sunday, right?"

"2:00 p.m."

"Good. That gives me enough time to get my present ready." She winks at Tyrone who scoots out of the room before he is recruited to do something heinous like mop the floor or scrub the toilet.

• • •

For most kids, the week before a party drags along like molasses dripping out of a jar, but Lars is already convinced that he is bigger, better, older, taller. He enjoys his birthday as a secure marker of time that repeats with very little difference from year to year. A small group of friends and family gather at the house. They play a game either outside or on the back porch. His mom makes his favorite picnic foods. Then she brings out the chocolate cake. The presents are always things like sketch books, paints, a magnifying glass or some small beautiful thing for his room. The prism he got for his eighth birthday sits on his windowsill, creating a rainbow on the ceiling that moves with the sun. He prizes the geometry set he got from Uncle A when he turned 10--the compass, dividers with sharp points at either end, the old-fashioned inking pen that has to be filled with real ink and the tiny screw that adjusts the width of the line. One thing Lars never receives for his birthday is clothes. Everyone figures it is bad enough that he has to own any, let alone inflict them upon him as a gift.

This year Lars is happy already. School is alright, his Uncle is in town, he has a few really good friends, and then there is Tyrone. As if it were not enough that Tyrone were his best friend, they now have real sex. Just the night before Tyrone sucked him off for the very first time. Lars is still floating in the clouds over how good it felt to have Tyrone's warm, wet mouth engulfing his penis. His hips had bucked so high when he came he was afraid he was going to crack his back!

* * *

"No honey, I'm sorry, Tyrone is going to stay here tonight and you're going to sleep in your own bed." Tyrone's mother is sweet, but firm.

"But, it would be so cool to wake up on my birthday with Tyrone right next to me!" insists Lars.

"We have a few things to take care of before your party -- and you can't be there, birthday boy!"

"But, mom, I already got him his present," interjects Tyrone.

"That's enough, boys. That's the plan and that's the way it's going to be. I can drive you home later this evening if you want."

"That's alright Ms. Williams. I can walk," replies Lars. It would have been so fun to have a sleepover the night before his birthday, but he isn't too upset. After all, he and Tyrone have been having a great time together recently. Lars smiles to himself. He catches Tyrone grinning at him and sticks out his tongue.

After Lars leaves Tyrone confronts his mom. "What was that all about? Why couldn't I sleep over? I already got my present, it's wrapped up and everything."

"You forgot about the other present."

"Your present?"

"I guess you could call it my present."

"Why didn't you buy it already, and anyway, what's it got to do with me?"

"It has something do with you. Anyway, you said I could get him whatever I wanted as long as you gave him the pencils."

"Sure, no problem. You're just being so mysterious you got me worried. But, whatever it is, I want Lars to have a sweet birthday. He doesn't really have that many friends. I don't know why, actually. He could be very popular. But, anyway, he's just inviting a few people and I want his birthday to be special."

"I think we can make it very special," replies his mother. "Very special indeed."

Tyrone grins at his mother. He nods his head up and down and just smiles.

* * *

After dinner Lars sits at the table looking out the window. He is missing Tyrone, but decides he'll do something special for himself if he isn't going to see his friend until tomorrow. After all, it is his birthday-eve, or something like that.

"Um, if y'all will excuse me. I think I'll go up to my room now."

His mom and dad and uncle look at him.

"I'm wise to you, boy!"

Adrian gets up and guides Lars out onto the back porch. Dusk is falling fast and the sounds of frogs drift in a cacophony of sound from the retention pond down the block. A bat flits by, its movement so fast it is nearly invisible. Lars lets the night air drift over his body, enjoying its sensuousness.

"This is better than up in your room, isn't it?" Adrian suggests.

"Could be," Lars teases.

"Planning on a long session?"

"Planning."

"Would I be intruding if I made an offer?"

"Depends." Lars grins at his uncle.

"We could make it just as long out here, but I could take over part of the work."

"Did my mom tell you I liked it?"

"I think I'm smart enough to know you like it all on my own."

"I mean, she and you talked about this, didn't you?"

"If you're asking if your parents mind that I jack you off, yes, we've discussed it. As long as you're happy with it, I'm allowed to masturbate you, but no other types of sex."

Lars nods. "I figured it was something like that. Is it true that you were naked and all when you were a kid?"

"Pretty much like you. I was always naked at home, so I guess my sister wasn't surprised when she had a son who did the same."

"And . . . " Lars doesn't know how to phrase the question, "did . . . I mean, like did you have an uncle who . . . ?"

"It was my older brother, actually--John." Adrian hesitates for a moment. "You never met him. He died in Vietnam. We were really close."

Lars nods again. His mother and uncle rarely speak about their brother John. He looms as some larger-than-life figure that they had both adored.

* * *

The birthday party is just getting underway. Lars' dad is barbecuing skewers of shish kabab -- chicken for the carnivores and veggies for the vegetarians. His mom has set up an amazing buffet of snacks, salads and other goodies on the back porch picnic table.

Uncle Adrian got up early this morning and set up a water slide, sprinklers and what promises to be some amazing type of water jet apparatus in the backyard.

"No touching until everyone is here," he warns with uncharacteristic seriousness. Lars knows enough to note the difference in his uncle's attitude. As tempted as he is, he doesn't turn on a single tap that is connected to the various hoses snaking around the backyard.

Speaking of "everyone", where is Tyrone? Carl and Carlita came over right on time, their mother chatting away with Ms. Petersen and helping her with the finishing touches on the picnic table. Sam had been dropped off by her parents with stern warnings to behave. Uncle Adrian is keeping an eye on her as she is well known for mischief. Raj's parents stopped to chat and then his father had to leave. Raj's mother is nervously following her son around, admonishing him to behave.

Lars finds it amusing that the parents are so worried that their children will be bad just because they are playing in the backyard. Nobody seems to give them the least mind when they are out shooting hoops or playing tag in the street.

Just when Lars is thinking that Tyrone has forgotten his party, he shows up. He and his mom come around the side of the house rather than through the front door. It looks like Tyrone is trying to hide behind his mother, who is slowly nudging him forward. Then Tyrone steps into full view and everyone at the party freezes.

Tyrone is fully naked from head to toe, his dark skin glistening in the sun. Lars' first thought is how beautiful he is. His second thought is admiration for Tyrone's long hard dick. Finally the thought kicks in, "Tyrone, naked!"

"You're here!" yells Lars running across the yard and embracing his friend in a full body hug.

He feels a hesitation from Tyrone and is just starting to worry when Carlita pipes up in a loud voice, "Mama, can I be naked, too?"

"Sure, honey, it looks like you're going to get really wet, so let's take these clothes off so they stay dry."

"I thought it was only Lars who was allowed to be naked, Mama. Other people can be naked too!"

"Let the celebrations begin," shouts Uncle A, and the sprinklers all start shooting water in whirligigs all over the backyard.

Not to be outdone by his twin sister Carlos strips down, shoves his clothes into his mother's arms and runs into the spray. Sam quickly joins in, her naked body showing off a nice patch of pubic hair and the beginnings of perky breasts, belying her tomboyish affect.

"I think everyone is enjoying water play, Raj," cajoles his mother, "why don't you take your clothes off? That's what all the boys--even the girls for that matter--used to do when the monsoon arrived back when I was little."

How can Tyrone hold back, what with all the nudity, enthusiasm and celebration going on in that little backyard?

* * *

"But, how did this happen?" Lars quizzes him. It is much, much later. All the neighbor kids have exhausted themselves with food, fun, cake and excitement. Tyrone's mom is having a glass of wine with Lars' family. The adults are at one end of the back porch. Tyrone and Lars are sitting on the steps far at the other end, Tyrone's naked black skin a stark contrast to Lars' naked whiteness.

"Well," began Tyrone, "it was like this . . . "

It is Sunday morning. Tyrone wakes to the smell of pancakes.

"My favorite," he cheers as he comes into the kitchen. He is wearing his PJ bottoms and no shirt, having just gotten out of bed. "You're the best mom in the world!"

"Did you make yourself come before you got up," Lars interrupts the story.

"That's not an important detail," objects Tyrone, "but since you insist. Yes, but I put my PJs back on afterwards."

"Okay, go on."

"Eat up," urges his mother, "we have to go get that present ready before the party."

Tyrone wolfs down an enormous number of pancakes slathered with butter, syrup and even whipped cream. He takes a quick shower, puts on his best shorts and a clean blue T-shirt. Finally he slicks his hair down and runs a comb through it. Looking at himself in the mirror he nods his head in approval. Looking good!

To his surprise his mother hardly glances at his apparel. She usually makes him change at least one thing before they go out, especially to a party.

As they drive across town Tyrone asks, "Where did you say we were going?" The surroundings don't look all that familiar.

"I didn't," replies his mother with a little smile. "But since you're in the mood for questions I'll give you some answers. What we're about to get ready for Lars is something very rare. In fact, I have it on the best authority that not a single other person in 58 counties of Florida has this."

"But mom," Tyrone corrects her, "Florida has 60 counties."

"That's right. So do the math."

"You mean somebody has this, but only in two counties of Florida."

"Mmmm, hmmm," she agrees. "Also, this is something that Lars is going to enjoy, but that he would also very much wish he had for himself. But, he won't be able to do that just yet."

"What? You're not making any sense mom. I thought you said we were giving him a present?"

"We are, we are. But he'll want more of the present than he presently will have presented."

Tyrone rolls his eyes and decides his mother is crazy.

They pull up in front of a nondescript duplex and Ms. Williams stops the car. "Your time has come," she announces, opening the passenger side door for Tyrone.

"My time!" he hoots. My mother has definitely lost it, he thinks.

They knock on the door and wait for what seems an entire minute and a half. Finally a small Latina woman with breezy hair opens the door.

"Oh, Ms. Williams, oh, and your son Tyrone. What a handsome young man. Is he the one? Oh, wonderful, simply wonderful. He will look fantastic."

She leads them through a living room where Tyrone figures every single item is in plastic wrap, from the two turquoise blue couches to the collector dolls in the glass breakfront. Their hostess leads them to a cheery kitchen in a sunflower theme and invites them to sit on yellow vinyl chairs.

"I am so excited, Ms. Williams . . . and . . . "

"This is my son Tyrone. Tyrone, this is Ms. Carmella."

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am."

"Good manners, too. Well, Ms. Williams and Tyrone, as I was saying. The program is so new outside of Miami that they haven't even sent out the supplies yet. Everything is legal. There should be absolutely no problems, but I have just one sample chip. I brought it from the training session I attended in Dade County. So, I have everything we need for today. But nobody else will be able to be stripped for another week or ten days. For sure not here. I am the only representative for the entire county."

"Well, that suits us just fine. It is a surprise for his best friend."

Tyrone was not following a bit of this except to know that Lars was getting something rare and special. Was it a DVD? A computer? What had she said about a chip -- something electronic? Anyway, why was this something Lars would like? He wasn't that into technology. And, what did this have to do with himself, he, Tyrone, the "handsome young man?"

"Okay, you two make yourselves comfortable while I get the paperwork. You want water, tea, coffee? I make Cuban coffee, very good!"

"I don't want to trouble you Ms. Carmella."

"No trouble, no trouble." She bustles about the kitchen. Tyrone thinks she is making his mother a cup of coffee, so he is surprised when she places three cups on the table and a basket of pastries. He thinks he is full from the enormous breakfast he ate before he left home, but the coffee and the food are so good he finds room for more!

Meanwhile his mother is filling out various forms, signing them and handing them back to Ms. Carmella.

"You signed, so here it is, the only microchip in the county." Ms. Carmella takes a little round bandaid and sticks it behind Tyrone's left ear. "Congratulations young man, you are perhaps the first person stripped outside of Broward and Dade Counties -- definitely the first person stripped in this county!"

Tyrone looks at the two women and down at himself. Has something magically changed about him?

"Son, you've just been placed into the Stripped For Florida program. That means that before we leave here you will need to take off all your clothes. The little bandaid behind your ear placed a microscopic electronic chip under your skin. Anytime one of the state's special pieces of equipment scans you, it will also check to make sure you aren't wearing any clothing. As I understand it, the scanners are being placed in stores, offices, schools and libraries. Now you'll understand what I mean about Lars wishing he had this present too."

Seeing the boy's confusion Ms. Carmella intervenes, "She means you get to be naked everywhere, like in the street, the school, the public pool, everywhere. You don't have to wear clothes anymore!!!"

She says it with so much excitement that she sounds like Lars.

"I don't have to wear clothes?" Tyrone asks. "But, it's Lars that doesn't want to wear clothes. Why don't we give this to him?"

"I'm sure he'll get stripped as soon as it is available. But for right now this is a huge surprise for his birthday!" his mother beams with genuine enthusiasm.

"Well, he's already seen me naked," Tyrone informs them.

"Honey, I am well aware of that. That's why I thought the two of you would enjoy this so much."

"Enjoy what?"

"It's not just that you don't have to wear clothes, you are no longer allowed to wear clothes."

"Not allowed to wear clothes!" Tyrone's voice rises in consternation.

"No need to yell, son," chastises his mother. "Yes, not allowed to wear clothes."

"Where, when, for how long? What are you talking about?"

"It's the Stripped For Florida program. They've had it in South Florida for a couple of years and they're just expanding it to the rest of the state. A parent can enroll their child and have them stripped naked. After that they stay naked, anywhere and everywhere, until they turn 21."

"Twenty-one!" Shouts Tyrone. "I'm not staying naked until I'm twenty-one. In fact, I'm not staying naked at all."

He gets up and starts to leave the room. "Tyrone," his mother's voice is dangerously low.

He pauses.

"Tyrone," she continues. "First, this is Lars' birthday. I don't think you want to let him down. Remember how you said you wanted him to have a really special day? Second, now that you are officially stripped, this is out of my hands. If you're not naked in 5 minutes I'll let the police deal with you. First thing they're going to do is strip you, then they'll decide what to do next."

Tyrone slumps back into his chair. "This whole thing's for real?" He is still hoping that it will turn out to be some huge practical joke.

"Oh yes, very real," gushes Ms. Carmella, all smiles again. "See, here is the official brochure. You can see all the rules here in this Welcome Guide. I have a sticker if you want to put it on your car. And you should see the lovely banner they gave me to use for recruitment."

"Strip down, son," his mother orders.

"Can I at least get undressed in the bathroom or something," Tyrone pleads.

"Okay, but no dawdling. Strip, pee and get out here. We're about to be late for the party."

Tyrone shifts his body to get more comfortable. He isn't used to being naked and the wooden step feels rough on his bare behind. Lars looks up at the stars coming out in the darkening sky. A dog barks from several houses away. The sounds of adult conversation drifts like smoke from the other end of the porch.

"I didn't want to mess up your party, Lars. I wanted you to have a special birthday."

Lars grins. "It was a great party. I think this is the best birthday I've ever had."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course. I mean we did all the stuff we usually do every year, but, it was really different, too. I never expected you to show up naked--and all hard like you are, too! That's pretty cool. How are you doing that, anyway? I never manage to stay excited like that--although I have tried," the boy admits.

"I'll get to that. See, I didn't want to mess up your party, and I could see my mother wasn't going to leave that lady's house 'til I was naked. It's probably just for today, anyway. So I figured I'd better just do it. I guess seeing you naked all the time it didn't seem completely impossible. So I went in the bathroom to undress. The real problem was I had a hard on. The thought of being naked in public had me all excited. I stood there in the bathroom waiting for my erection to go down."

"Tyrone, you better get out here this minute or we'll be late!"

"Okay, mom. I'm just using the bathroom."

"I think he's shy," Ms. William apologizes to Ms. Carmella.

"Do you want to give him the shot?"

"What's that for?"

"It keeps him hard for the first 48 hours. It's really good for boys who are shy about being naked in public for the first time."

Ms. Williams' eyes twinkle. "Yes, let's give him the shot."

Meanwhile my dick just wouldn't go down, so finally I jacked off. I cleaned up as best I could, but when I stepped back out into the kitchen I think my mom and that other lady both knew what I had just done.

"Okay, let's go," I say.

"I just have to give you a shot, handsome boy," Ms. Carmella says, as if it candy she is giving me.

"A shot?" Now I am really confused. But she has the syringe all ready to go. She steps over to my newly stripped body and plunges that thing right into my ass! Hurts like hell. Then we say good-bye, get in the car and come over. Only weird thing is that my dick starts to get hard again. I mean, I can get an erection right after jacking off. It happens all the time. But this time, honestly, I don't know why it is happening. And it just keeps getting harder and harder until I feel like my penis is going to burst open. At first I try to hide it with my hands, but finally I get scared.

"Mom, I think something's wrong. My penis," I hesitate, but my mother looks over from driving and smiles. "Mom, it's going to burst."

"I don't think so honey. Just enjoy it."

"It's never felt like this before."

"Ms. Carmella gave you a shot. Your penis is going to be hard like that for the next two days, she said."

"What! You purposely did this to me? Isn't it bad enough I have to go to a party naked, but with a hard on?"

"Lars will love it, just wait and see."

"So that's why you were walking around the house so strangely when you first got here?" Lars asks.

"Well, wouldn't you?" Tyrone blurts out, but Lars just grins. "I guess you wouldn't -- what am I even thinking!"

"As soon as I can I'm getting my parents to strip me. I'll get the shot, too. Why not?" Lars ruminates. "When did you say this program was starting?"

"I guess it just started, with me," grumps Tyrone. "Maybe it's just for today, though. I can't imagine mom expects me to go to school like this." He gestures down at his erection bobbing up from his naked groin.

"So let's find out if you can spend the night," Lars says brightly.

The boys get up and wander down the porch. Uncle A stops the telling of some long tale. Ms. Williams lounges back comfortably in a wicker chair. Lars' parents are sitting close, his dad's arm around his mother's waist.

"What's up boys?" his dad asks.

"I was hoping Tyrone could spend the night," Lars asks.

"Sure, why not," laughs his mother. "We'll take him to school in the morning," she adds to Tyrone's mother.

"Now I don't have to worry about whether his school clothes are in the same place he is anymore." She chuckles at her own joke. "Yes, honey, you can spend the night. I guess your party's not quite over," she smiles at Lars.

"That's great! Thank you, everybody." Lars looks around the group. "And, I had the best birthday ever!"

"You'll find a couple of presents in your room," Uncle A puts in. "The larger one is from your mom and dad, but the really cool one is from me! I'm sure you'll be able to tell the difference."

"There's also a little something from me on the bedside table," adds Tyrone's mom. "Your uncle informs me that two boys in bed are likely to be up to certain activities--so I just wanted to make sure you were prepared." Her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Of course there's no pressure at all. You two may be all tuckered out and just planning to sleep. Either way, have a good night. Here, Tyrone, come give your mama a good-night kiss."

Tyrone kisses his mother and Lars doles out kisses and gets hugged by everyone.

"Happy Birthday!" his mother calls as he and Tyrone headed inside. "I'll wake you for breakfast."

The boys head down the hall. Tyrone walks into the bedroom first.

"Shit! Lars, you didn't tell me you got a new bed!"

"What? Oh, man. Oh, shit! Fuckin'-A. That is a huge bed." He looks over at Tyrone, his eyes gleaming. "That must be the large present from my parents. It's so we can sleep together!!!"

"Here's the present from my mom." Tyrone examines a small bucket of items on the bedside table. "Astroglide, Wet, Ride H2O, Slippery Stuff. What is all this stuff?"

"Tyrone," Lars voice is filled with awe. "Look at this."

Tyrone climbs onto the bed where Lars is slowly leafing through a glossy picture book. Page after page features boys in every sexual activity and position that Lars and Tyrone have never imagined. In the middle of the book a card reads, "Happy Birthday Lars, from your favorite Uncle A. Have fun, be safe, use lots of lube and remember to always treat your friends and yourself with love and respect."

The boys get lost for twenty to thirty minutes looking at the pictures.

Finally Lars jumps off the bed. "I'm going to brush my teeth." Tyrone joins him in the bathroom.

"There's no way I can pee like this! I'll spray it all over the bathroom." Tyrone wags his erection back and forth by way of illustration.

"Do it in the shower, dude."

"Good idea."

Tyrone gets in the tub.

"Hey, I'll join you," yells Lars.

"I'm letting it fly," warns Tyrone and shoots pee straight into the air. He waves his penis around and sprays the wall, the curtain and Lars. Lars lets his own stream loose, aiming at Tyrone's midsection. They turn on the shower.

"Hey, that's cold," Tyrone protests.

"It always does that," explains Lars, "but I don't want to wait for hot water. Let's go to bed." He gives Tyrone a grin, hops out of the tub and towels himself partially dry. "See you there!"

Tyrone follows. The bed seems huge after the small single frame and the mattress on the floor. The boys experiment bouncing on it and rolling all around.

"Hey, look, they left us a candle," Lars notices, "and matches." He lights the candle and turns out the light. "Very romantic!" he says in an exaggerated voice.

Tyrone closes the door. His erect penis casts flickering shadows on the wall in the candlelight. Lars sprawls naked across the double bed.

"How long are you going to be hard like that, do you think?" wonders Lars.

"I think my mom said two days -- another 24 hours, maybe?"

"Mmmmm, nice . . . "

"It's feeling pretty good right now," Tyrone agrees. "So, you want me to fuck you?"

Lars considered this. "You mean, like the boys in the photos?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think that would fit in me?"

"If I use some of this stuff in the tubes they left us, probably. I mean, look at all those boys in the book."

"That's true. Some of them were our age, or even younger."

Tyrone pulls a tube of lube out of the bucket on the side table and examines it. Opening the cap he squirts some on his hand and rolls it between his fingers.

"It's pretty slippery. Turn over, let me get some of this on you."

Lars turns over. He flinches when Tyrone squirts some of the goo right on his anus. "That's cold," Lars giggles.

"What about this?" Tyrone places the tip of his erection against Lars' tight opening.

"Um, how about you put your finger or something in first," Lars suggests nervously.

Tyrone slips his finger inside his friend and wiggles it around experimentally.

"I can't believe all this is really happening."

"Does that mean it feels good?" Tyrone asks.

Lars wiggles his ass. "Don't stop."

Tyrone pushes his finger in farther. Lars moans. "Put it in farther," he begs.

"That's why I have to fuck you sweetheart. My dick is longer than my finger."

"Okay, just do it then. I want you inside me. Please."

"Alright! You'd think I'd be the eager one. My first fuck!!!"

"My first fuck, too. But I'm getting fucked."

Tyrone lines his erection up again. It seems nearly impossible that his penis will fit into that tiny opening. But, having tried it with his finger he sees that the sphincter can open up. He pushes against the opening, then pushes harder. Lars lies still, letting himself relax as much as possible. Tyrone thrusts into him with greater determination. Lars momentarily tenses and then lets himself take the other boy into himself. With a groan of satisfaction Tyrone plunges into his friend's opening.

He doesn't last long the first time, but due to the unremitting power of the drug he remains as hard as ever. He plunges back into Lars' backside and this time gives the lithe young boy a fucking he will never forget. Rearing back on his outstretched arms Tyrone pumps over and over again into that wonderfully tight orifice until Lars screams with the agony of an orgasm induced solely by the internal massaging of his prostate. Tyrone doesn't stop, ignoring Lars' cries of pain and pleasure. His own climax is building once again and he keeps fucking the boy until he comes again.

The two boys lie gasping on the bed, their bodies glistening with pools of sweat. For an hour they waver between waking and sleep. Lars rolls over onto his back and looks up at the candlelit ceiling. Tyrone's hand wanders down Lars' belly and gently begins rolling the boy's penis into an erection. He pulls himself onto his elbow, moves down and sucks the growing member into his mouth. Lars' penis feels soft and luscious. He flicks his tongue all around the shaft, teasing Lars with circular rounds of tongue on the sensitive tip, slit and crown. Lars giggles and then becomes silent with awe at the pleasure filling him. Tyrone pleasures the boy for what feels like hours, keeping him on the very precipice of orgasm.

"Make me cum," Lars pleads, but the words come out in a garble as Tyrone sucks hard on his dick. "Aaaahh! Please . . . "

Tyrone pulls his mouth up Lars' erection and lets it pop out. He sits back and smiles at his friend.

"What? NO! I need to, please . . . "

Tyrone leans in and kisses Lars on the lips. His tongue forces Lars' lips open and wrestles inside his mouth. Lars tastes his own penis mixed with Tyrone. The two boys kiss, bodies skin to skin in the flickering light. Lars reaches around and runs his hands over Tyrone's rump, back, shoulders, marveling that this boy is his lover, his friend, his companion.

At last Tyrone sits back up, looks down once again at Lars' beauty. One more kiss on the lips and he turns his attention back to his friend's throbbing erection and brings the boy to climax, holding the pulsing penis in his mouth until it comes to stillness. Lars lies gasping in exhausted bliss on the bed.

* * *

"Boys . . . " Lars' mother is at the door to the bedroom. She gazes upon the two lovely boys for some time before waking them, enjoying the sight of their naked bodies entwined with one another on top of the bed. They never even pulled back the covers! "Boys, it's time for school."

Lars opens his eyelids and stares unseeing. Blinking he brings his mother into focus.

"Good morning sleepyhead," his mother greets him.

Lars cracks a small grin and rubs his eyes. Tyrone squirms, nestling his sleeping body into Lars. Lars puts an arm around his friend and holds him.

"I'll let you wake him, honey," says his mother. "You can shower together if you like, but don't take all morning." She gives him a wink. "You'll need to get dressed, but of course Tyrone is naked. Breakfast will be ready when you are."

The boys c0me into the kitchen for breakfast. Lars is still wearing a goofy smile from their activities in the shower, but Tyrone is somber. Once Lars put on his school uniform the reality of what was happening began to sink in. He is supposed to go to school naked. Why had his mother stripped him? It was so unfair! Was he really supposed to go to school naked -- naked for God's sake -- when nobody in this part of the state has even heard about this program? South Florida is far away in both mind and reality. Who even cares that there are allegedly nude boys and girls wandering around the streets of Miami?

Leaving aside the excitements of yesterday, and even earlier this morning, Tyrone is now regretting that he isn't at home. Maybe he could have convinced his mother to let him stay home. Here at Lars' house he is too polite to make a fuss at the breakfast table. Any minute now they'll be in the car on the way to school. Tyrone sinks into murky fear.

"Mom," Lars is saying, "why can't I go to school naked? I mean, nobody even knows about this program -- are they really expecting Tyrone to be naked?"

This line of reasoning does not improve Tyrone's outlook on the day.

"Honey, you know I'd strip you in a heartbeat if I could. I'm not sure what the school is expecting, but it is just as illegal for Tyrone to be wearing clothes as it is for you not to be."

And with that heartwarming thought they are on their way.

* * *

Lars watches his friend steady the compass, ready to glide the attached pencil in a smooth sweep across the paper until the arc comes round on itself. Tyrone's skin is dark against the light coming in from the window behind him. If he bends his head just right he can see Tyrone's penis erect and silhouetted against the light as well. His own penis starts to fill with blood as he observes his lover. They are both naked, the hubbub having finally died down enough to allow the class to concentrate on geometry of abstract forms rather than the form of nude boys. Lars is happy. Tyrone is preoccupied, but glances up for a moment to lock eyes with Lars.

"How was school?" Tyrone's mother calls as the boys slam the door no their way into the house. "My," she observes, "you didn't waste time stripping down, did you!"

Lars shrugs and decides to tell all. "I didn't wear anything all day."

"What?"

"I knew you'd have to explain Tyrone to the school -- and they don't have any sensors -- so I let them think I am in the program, too."

"But, Lars!"

"Didn't you say once a kid was stripped he has to stay that way? So, they think I'm stripped!" Lars grins mischievously, savoring victory. "Now I'll have to be naked every day, right? By the time they can sort it out Stripped For Florida will be here and it'll be official. No more clothes!"

"What did you do, just strip down in the parking lot?"

"Yeah. Everyone was gaping at Tyrone, so I just slipped everything off and tucked my clothes behind a bush."

"You've never seen such an uproar," Tyrone interjected. "It was horribly embarrassing. My first period teacher -- you know Mrs. Amundsen? 'Put some clothes on, boy,' she ordered me. I told her I didn't have any, wasn't allowed any and that none of this was my idea. She called in the principal; the whole class was going wild because she wasn't paying attention. Things finally calmed down by the time we were in geometry class."

"I'll call your mother and let her know you're here." That way I'll get to tell her the news, Tyrone's mother thinks to herself.

The boys go outside and shoot a few hoops, both boys naked, Tyrone gliding through the air and arcing the ball into the basket. They are a study in contrasts, Tyrone dark against the sky, tall, graceful, like a music note held in the air. Lars pale with the sun golden through his hair that floats like a halo around his head, mind dreaming a new Circadian rhythm as he circles Tyrone.

Tyrone throws the ball in a long arc down the street and the boys run to catch it before it touches the earth.

(The End)