Connex or The Naked Kid

Stripped For Florida: Connex or The Naked Kid

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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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CONNEX or THE NAKED KID

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

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I've always been the naked kid. I know that's a funny thing to say in Florida where supposedly every kid is stripped at birth and is nude 24/7. But in my family everyone else always wears clothes. In fact, there aren't really that many stripped kids where I live. It's a small town and in a conservative, rural part of Florida. The only tourists are middle-aged or retirees who come for outdoor recreation -- hunting, fishing, kayaking, birding -- stuff like that. They don't have kids so there's none of the whole "strip your kid for a Florida vacation" kind of thing going on.

Anyway, I've always been the naked kid. I don't think I was officially stripped at birth, but my mom says I've never worn clothes. I certainly don't have any memories of being anything but completely naked. From the time I was old enough to follow rules I knew that I wasn't allowed to wear any.

"The buzzers will go off and the police will stop us if you aren't naked," my mother would warn me.

Like any kid I wanted to copy my older sister and brother. They would be getting ready for school in the morning and I'd want to play dress up, too.

"No, Peter, those aren't for you," my mother would chide and pull the too-big trousers or shirt away from me before I could try them on.

Winter or summer, rain or shine, I've been in nothing but my own skin. When I started first grade I was the only stripped kid in my class. This only reinforced my idea that I was the naked kid, as in the "only" naked kid. I wasn't embarrassed; after all I'd been naked my whole life. I didn't even think it was that strange. As I got older and was still the only nude person in class I asked my mom questions.

"How come I'm naked and nobody else is?"

"I guess nobody else got around to stripping their kids yet," she would reply.

"But you got around to stripping me."

"You were so cute," she would gush, "who would want to cover you up with clothes?"

This didn't really satisfy my curiosity, but that's how the conversation would go.

"Dad?" I would pester him. "Were you naked when you were a kid?"

"Sometimes," he'd say, not looking up from the delicate piece of jewelry he was winding with thin silver wire. My dad makes one-of-a-kind pieces that get sent out to specialty stores all over the country. He wears a funny looking magnifier on one eye and has a bright little spotlight aimed at his work bench. My siblings and I know not to touch anything, but we often try to engage Dad in conversation while he's working.

"What do you mean, 'sometimes'," I persisted, not understanding the answer.

"Swimming--we boys were always naked. Sometimes we'd play outside buck-naked if it was a really hot day."

"But, you have to be stripped or not. You can't just be sometimes naked," I argued.

"It didn't used to be like that," he'd explain, his head bent over in concentration on his work.

"You mean, you could just wear clothes whenever you wanted?" I asked incredulously.

"Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"I pretty much had to wear clothes most of the time. To school, around town, if we had company; most of the time."

"But," I protested, "you said you were naked sometimes."

"That's right. Nobody minded too much if a boy was naked to go swimming, or playing outside on a hot day. I always slept naked, too. It was just more comfortable."

I nodded. It seemed reasonable. Why wouldn't naked be comfortable? It was your own body, after all. It's just that I didn't have anything else to compare it to. Were clothes uncomfortable? Why did people wear them, then?

These musings were not the primary focus of my life, however. My older brother and sister by turns teased me, nurtured me, included me in their games, or left me out of pursuits they felt were suited to their more advanced ages. We fought, played, tussled, and all in all were very close. I did well at school. I was well liked and had friends. We did the usual stuff: sleepovers, games, sports, drawing comic books, and generally joking around. This being Florida -- even North Florida -- the weather was often conducive to outdoor pleasures. Swimming was my favorite and especially well suited to my naked state. It was the only time my friends admitted to being envious that they couldn't peal off and swim naked as well. According to my dad, kids used to be able to swim naked, even if they couldn't be naked any other time. "Sure, we used to skinny dip all the time. Sometimes even the girls came along." He would wink at me as if this were something particularly delicious.

But the reality was that I was the only naked kid -- in my family, in my class at school, pretty much in my whole town. That changed, at least temporarily, the year I turned 12. The next year was a whole different story, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I was not what you would call an early bloomer. When I turned twelve I was the shortest kid in my class. I still looked pretty much the same as I had for years on end, which is to say I looked like a cute little kid. I had no extra body hair, especially in "those" places -- if you know what I mean. I may have loved my dick as much as any other boy, but it was nothing spectacular in the size department. I was still a little boy.

* * *

"I have a very exciting announcement to make," pronounced my father at dinner one evening. My sister and brother and I perked up. I couldn't remember my dad ever looking this excited. "I have a business trip to Germany. We're all going and afterwards we're taking a European vacation."

We sat there stunned. I mean, we knew my dad made great jewelry, but he wasn't a "business trip" kind of guy. As far as we knew the only business trips he went on were when he packed up the white panel van with the glass cases full of samples of his work and trundled them off to some wholesale expo or convention. He'd come back with either a bundle of contracts for the next year or a glum face and long talks with my mom at the kitchen table after we kids were all supposed to be asleep.

My dad didn't have a glum face now! Obviously something big -- and fairly lucrative -- was going on with my dad's jewelry-making business if it enabled our family to take all five of us to Europe.

"I have a week of work to do in Germany," my dad was explaining, "and then we're going to head south to beautiful Croatia on the Mediterranean Sea -- well, the Adriatic to be more precise." None of us knew exactly where that was, but that didn't stop us from grinning.

"Will we go swimming?"

"Can we camp?"

"What language do they speak there?"

Our questions rained down fast and furiously. "You'll have plenty of time to research all that," my dad laughed. "We won't be going until summer. But," he paused for effect, "I just wanted to give you all something to look forward to. Plus, I expect good grades from all of you this semester!"

"Aw, Dad," my brother protested. We all laughed. Grades weren't generally a problem for the three of us. We thought schoolwork was somewhat boring, but we did well on our report cards.

As the semester dragged on we counted the remaining weeks and days until our big trip. My father had travelled all over the country as part of his business. My mother had sometimes accompanied him, but since I was born she'd usually stayed in Florida. As a consequence it was my older siblings who had been to more places. They'd even been to visit my mother's brother and our cousins in Colorado, a pointed issue in sibling rivalry because this meant they had seen snow and I had not. As our June departure got closer my sister and brother -- and even my mother -- got busy with the details of what to pack. My sister insisted on going shopping for her "European wardrobe." In answer to my unasked question my mother confirmed, "You don't need to worry about anything, honey. You'll be naked." I nodded my head. I'd figured as much.

My dad came home with three small gift packages. My sister opened hers to find a very tiny bikini. She blushed and cast her eyes down, but I knew she was happy. My mother's package contained an even smaller bikini--nothing more than a strip of fabric. There was no top.

"Lot's of women go topless on the beach in Europe," my dad explained. My mother shot him a look as if to say, "and how are you such an expert on women's bathing suit attire," but she grinned at him and gestured a kiss with her lips.

"It's true," my mother confirmed, "most girls, too."

My brother unwrapped his gift and looked at the small speedo with disgust. "I'll take my regular suit," he muttered gruffly.

My father just laughed.

I knew what suit I'd be wearing.

* * *

We flew out of Jacksonville International Airport. You'd think growing up in "Stripped For Florida" I would have seen a lot of naked people -- but in reality I'd only seen a handful of naked kids at any one time. JAX was an eye opener! Swarms of tourists dragged sunburned naked children through the terminal. I'd seen plenty of photos of the naked twins on Stripped For Florida posters, but here they loomed many times life size over the central atrium. Tanned naked Florida teenagers staffed the counters of Starbucks and Chick Fil A. I craned my neck this way and that, straining to take in the many bodies that for once meant I wasn't the only naked one around.

As soon as we got into line for security it was back to business as usual -- I was the only naked person.

"How come no one's naked here?" I asked.

"Tourists have to put clothes on their kids when they leave," my dad intoned. "Time to go back home to places where skin can't be seen."

"But what about me? I'm not wearing clothes."

"We're taking a direct flight to Germany, and you're allowed to be naked there."

"Oh." I didn't know how else to ask what I really wanted to know.

The flight attendants on the plane fussed over me. My emotions were torn; I liked the attention, but was getting old enough that I didn't just want to be a cute little boy anymore. Nevertheless, the flight was interesting. There were little screens at every seat that could be removed so you could play games or listen to a movie. The food was good and we got lots of attention. Still, I was the only naked kid on the plane.

We were met at the airport by my dad's business contact Mr. Vriesellar.

"Nice to meet your family!" he boomed. He slapped my dad on the back, kissed my mother's hand, shook my brother's hand, and made a show of kissing my sister's hand very formally. She blushed and surprised me by making a little curtsy. When had she learned to do that? "So, you are the naked boy!" he said, turning to me. "My son is with his mother, but you will meet him in a few days. You look very much alike. I don't know if I should greet you the same way I do Peter." He turned and looked at my dad who shrugged. "Perhaps after we get to know one another a bit," he concluded, leaving me mystified.

We made our way through the crowded terminal, crossed over to a parking garage and piled into a shiny Mercedes Benz. When we pulled onto the highway I grabbed my mother and held tight. Mr. Vriesellar was driving so fast I wondered why the car didn't take off like a plane!

I was fascinated to be in a big city -- and in a new country -- but once again I was the only one naked. The hotel staff didn't seem too phased that our family came trouping in with a stark naked boy in tow. Two elderly ladies sitting in the lobby put in their two bits in loud German.

"They say it's nice to see a naked boy," Mr. Vriesellar explained. "They say it used to be more popular to expose boys to the elements; you'll grow up strong and healthy." I nodded as the women stared at me and then went back to their conversation.

The next day my father and Mr.Vriesellar took us on a tour of the company facilities where he worked. "You can call me Henk," he chided me as I insisted on calling him by his formal last name. "Besides, it is easier to say, ja?"

The offices were boring, with cubicles, computers, neat piles of paperwork and what I considered to be rather over-dressed people. The standard dress code of Florida suddenly seemed very casual compared to the darker colors and formal outfits of these professional Germans.

For lunch Henk took us to a café. Still no naked people, although nobody seemed offended that I was naked. I noticed that the hotel, offices, and stores were not as air conditioned as places in Florida. The weather outside was definitely not as warm as Florida, either, but children dressed as if the weather were super hot. Boys, especially, wore really short shorts. Their shirts weren't long and baggy like Florida boys like to wear, and some boys even wore crop tops so you could see their bellies. Girls in Florida wear pretty skimpy clothes, but a big difference here were the miniskirts. The girls didn't seem to mind at all that their underwear shows when they sit down at a cafe. I decided I would have to be careful because it is starting to get a bit noticeable when I get hard!

The outing got more interesting in the afternoon. Instead of offices we saw workspaces where men and women were working on intricate pieces of metal and machinery. My dad is really into this stuff and and kept asking Henk lots of questions. He explained that this is where the molds and die cuts are designed so that specific jewelry parts can be manufactured. I had never thought about jewelry being made by machines, having always watched my dad create pieces by hand.

I picked up a large ring that was sitting on a work table. "What's this for?" I asked. It was too large to be a ring and too small to be a bracelet, but the polished metal had caught my eye.

"That's a penis ring," Henk replied. Looking at my expression he laughed. "Not for your size, yet," he laughed again. "But don't worry, you will grow."

I looked down at my penis and back at the ring. It seemed impossible that my penis would ever be large enough for that ring.

* * *

The next day my mom took my sister and brother and I to the Frankfurt Zoo while my dad attended to business. It was my first ever visit to a zoo and seeing so many different types of animals was amazing, although it disturbed me that so many were in cages or glass cases. I liked the parts better where the animals are in more natural environments outside. It was a warm day and we saw lots of boys in just shorts and two boys in tiny swimsuits. A younger girl was wearing just a bikini bottom. We finally saw two naked kids, however they were both toddlers. As usual, nobody seemed at all disturbed that I was naked.

"What's the deal, mom?" I asked. "Nobody cares that I'm naked, but nobody else is -- except those two that might as well be babies."

"It's legal for kids to be naked in Germany--even adults in appropriate situations. People seem to think its nice to see a naked kid, but it's just not common for a boy to be nude all the time."

"They don't strip people here?" I continued.

"No, not like Florida."

I was surprised when my dad announced at breakfast the next morning that he was taking me with him to work. We were sitting in the dining area just off the lobby of the hotel. I'd been surreptitiously eyeing the exposed underwear of the girl seated next to us and was hoping that nobody noticed my erection under the table.

"Where are we going?" I asked my dad, reaching down to cover my hard on.

"I need you today, but I think you'll find it fun. Also, Henk's son is coming back to town so we may see him this evening."

We finished our breakfast and my dad and I headed for the tram stop. The sleek looking tram pulled up and silently swept off down the curving street. About 15 minutes later we got out and headed toward one of the many modern buildings that fill Frankfurt. My dad pushed a button and a voice came over a small speaker. My dad identified us, a buzzer went off, and we pushed the door open. We went up a small flight of stairs and I was surprised to find that we were in a much larger, airier space than I imagined from outside. A skylight filled the room with light and blue sky was visible overhead. Looking around I saw that the room was filled with life-size statues of boys. Boys standing, kneeling, running, balancing, sleeping, but all totally naked, penises drooping or jutting out. I looked hard and then looked away embarrassed at a statue of two boys locked in an obviously sexual embrace, the penis of one of the boys jutting straight up in the air! Paintings of boys could be seen around the edges of the room, propped up against the walls or on easels. A deep male voice startled me. I looked around and found a gray-haired man quietly watching me from among the clutter of statues and easels at one side of the large studio.

"Welcome. So this is the boy. Wonderful, yes. Very free in his body." The man stepped forward and I could see that he was in good health, tanned, gray haired, maybe ten years older than my father. He wore soft worn sweat pants and a loosely knit sweater. It seemed odd that he should be dressed so warmly among all the statues of naked boys. I laughed. "I am Umar -- nice to meet you." I grasped his offered handshake and found his skin wonderfully soft. He kept my hand clasped and guided me around the room, showing me individual sculptures, naming each boy who had modeled, how old he had been, his favorite hobbies. I noticed the details of carefully modeled knees, elbows, ears, testicles, penises, toes. Each sculpture had a life to it as if it were about to breathe or walk or leap into the air. "So, I am to sculpt you, as well," Umar said. I looked at my dad who gestured agreement. "I am to do two sculptures. One of you standing, just like Dominick here," he gestured at a statue of a boy tall and lean reaching up with a ball in his hand as if he had just caught it in flight. The other sculpture I have been asked to do," Umar glanced at my father who nodded. Umar reached down and took my penis in his soft hand so gently that I didn't jump at the unexpected touch. "I am to sculpt your penis." Umar fondled the head of my penis between his fingers, working the foreskin around the tip of my glans, stroking his fingers down the shaft and gently pulling my penis back out through his hand. Slowly I came to erection while Umar continued to stroke and pull and twiddle. I tore my gaze away from my own penis and looked into Umar's eyes and then back at my dad who smiled at me.

"While we have you nice and hard I will take a mold of your penis," Umar explained. "Then we'll get to work on the standing pose."

A contraption was brought out that looked something like the two halves of a clam shell. Blue gel glistened in each half and they were brought together over my penis. A cold sensation went through my body as the gooey liquid closed around me. After a minute Umar pulled the halves apart and showed me a perfect impression of my penis on each side. It looked very funny to see a print of part of my body. I laughed again.

The rest of the day was spent posing. Umar told me to take a break every 15 minutes. Bread and cheese and juice and water were brought out. He offered grapes. My dad sat in an overstuffed chair in the sunlight and sipped on a glass of wine. The studio was quiet, as if were out in the countryside, not on a busy street in Frankfurt. "I will need one more day with you," Umar said. "Until then, good-bye." We stepped back out onto the street, busy with rush hour traffic and headed back to the hotel. For some reason I didn't ask my father any questions about either of the sculptures. The day had been oddly enjoyable and I didn't want to analyze the parts of this new experience just yet.

My sister and brother were in a good mood when we got back to the room. Evidently they'd spent the day shopping, eating and sightseeing. Several bulging shopping bags sat on the bed and there were chocolates and sweets and other goodies in opened containers on the table. My brother grabbed me by the ankles and held me upside down and swung me back and forth.

"Come on everyone, we need to make this room presentable. Henk and his son are stopping by soon," admonished my mom.

No sooner had we straightened up than there was a knock on the door. Henk stood there with a boy clad only in a tiny speedo. "My son, Peter," he said, coming into the room. Henk sat down and Peter nestled himself in a standing position between his father's legs. I think we were all surprised at how much Peter looked like me. I felt like I was staring at my own twin.

Henk said things were working out very well on my dad's new designs. My dad reported that we'd had a good day, although he didn't go into any details about my modeling. Everyone seemed jovial and in a good mood. My mother unpacked some wine and cheese, opened two bottles and passed out glasses and the refreshments. I noticed that my siblings were now included in the wine drinking. I guess in Germany it's normal for teenagers to drink. Henk gave Peter a little sip from his glass, set it on the side table and casually slipped the speedo off the boy's slender hips and down his legs. Peter stepped out of the suit one foot at a time and readjusted himself to lean against his dad's lap. Henk continued to talk about the weather, the jewelry business and where we should eat dinner as he fondled the now naked boy's penis. It reminded me of Umar's touch earlier today and I found myself coming to erection at the thought, even as I watched my twin across the room rise slowly to erection himself. Henk paid so little notice, and Peter acted so relaxed, that I was sure that this type of touching was nothing new between them. I debated whether to cover my hard penis or sit there with it openly on display like Peter's. While I was still undecided Henk changed the subject.

"Peter is a rather shy boy," Henk said, looking across the room at me, "but I have told him that you don't mind going naked all over town."

"Um, well, I'm always naked," I stammered.

"Exactly. So, I'm telling him he can try it also."

"But, I'm stripped."

Henk looked at my mom and then at my dad as if asking for explanation of this English word.

"I mean, I'm not allowed to wear clothes," I added, hoping to clarify his confusion.

"Not allowed?"

"In Florida he is not allowed to wear clothes," my mother interjected. "Our laws are different than Germany's. A child is either required to wear clothes, or required to be naked--in public, that is. Anyone can wear whatever they want at home."

"So you have not ever worn clothes?" Henk asked.

"He has not," my father confirmed.

"Amazing. So you have been forced to be naked. I would imagine that you feel totally comfortable this way?"

I shrugged, "I guess. I mean, I've never worn anything else so how would I know if there was something more comfortable." I laughed and Henk and even Peter joined in. I didn't know if Peter was following the English conversation, but he seemed to have grasped the humor of the situation. In any case, the boy didn't seem that shy! Letting his father bring him to erection in front of total strangers? He was making me feel shy!

"So," Henk exclaimed. He set Peter up on his feet, gave him a gentle swat on the buttocks and stood up. "Let us go to dinner." He said something in German to Peter, who immediately protested, looking up at his father with a pleading look on his face.

"Nein. Peter will join us naked, just as you are," Henk said gesturing at me. More German followed and at last it seemed that Peter had relented and was willing to go. We all made our way down the elevator, through the lobby and onto the sidewalk in front of the hotel.

"We'll go somewhere close by," Henk said, "so we can walk." At first Peter seemed absolutely mortified to be outside in the nude. He tried walking close behind his father so passersby wouldn't see him. I began to believe that perhaps Henk was right and that his son was shy. Peter's skin was lighter, as if it had been sheltered from sun and elements; I guessed he hadn't spent much time outdoors naked. Of course I had been exposed to the elements my whole life and my skin was tanned by wind and Florida sun. But light and dark aside, we made our way down the sidewalk for all the world like two naked twins on display for the world to enjoy. Peter started copying my every gesture. I skipped and Peter skipped. I did a hop across a line in the sidewalk and so did he. I tried to get fancy with a Michael Jackson style turn and nearly fell over. Peter did much better on his attempt. By the time we got to the restaurant we still hadn't said a word to one another, but were laughing and enjoying ourselves. Dinner was fun and it was really nice to play with someone my own age. That we looked so much alike and that I wasn't the only naked person was an added bonus! We spent hours having appetizers, eating and talking and then took a walk in the lingering late twilight of German summer. By the time we said good-bye it was late and I was getting sleepy. We stood outside the hotel, Peter leaning against his father. Good-nights were said all around and then Henk turned to me.

"Maybe I know you well enough to say good night the way I do to Peter, ja?"

"Okay," I agreed, remembering his mysterious remark at the airport when we first arrived.

Henk leaned down and gave me a tweak on the penis, smiled and then the two of them waved a last round of good-byes and went down the street.

Our family went inside and up to our room. I got ready for bed and crawled under the sheet. My mother kissed me good-night and my father came to give me his usual good night kiss.

"Dad . . . "

"Yes?"

"How come . . . ?"

"What's on your mind?"

"Henk touches Peter's penis and you let that artist, Umar, fondle me and I don't even know him!"

"Did that bother you?"

"No, I liked it, but I want to know how come you never touch me like that?"

"You want me to?"

"Kinda, I mean if you want to. I mean, if you would like to I would like it."

"I guess it is something I'm not used to doing. Parents in America were always told not to . . . well -- actually my grandfather used to play with my dick; I liked it a lot. It made me feel close. But then we were all told we were going to damage our kids forever and be put in jail and have our kids taken away from us if we did anything like that."

"It isn't that way anymore, Dad. I know it isn't."

"No, not in Florida. Parents can pretty much do anything they want with their kids."

"And not here. Peter acted like it was totally normal."

"Okay, son. I'll think about it."

"Does that mean you'll do it?"

"Let me sleep on it. Good night. I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

The next morning Henk showed up bright and early. I got the penis tweak again. I guess that is his usual hello and good bye for his son, and now me. I was surprised to see that Peter was still naked, and not looking too happy about it, either. My dad, Henk, Peter and I took off right away. I recognized the tram route this time: we were on our way to Umar's studio. We all trouped in and Umar gave Peter the tour of naked boy statues and paintings. By the time the studio tour was over Peter was looking a little less glum. When he found out I was posing for a sculpture he got very excited. He looked over the unfinished statue in minute detail, looking at me and back at the statue over and over again. An animated conversation ensued between Peter, Umar and Henk.

"It is as I suspected," Henk said to my dad, "he also wants a sculpture done of himself. I told him we could do it, but he does not like the condition."

"And what is the condition?" my father inquired.

"That he should stay naked all the time, except when he has to be in school. Unlike Florida, I cannot force him to be in school without his uniform."

My dad laughed. "That's quite a condition!"

"He'll agree to it, I think. You will see."

Meanwhile Umar had me begin my pose. I stood still while the artist worked on the details of the life size figure in front of him. Peter watched with rapt attention. After my first break my dad came up and kissed me. "I'm going to go with Henk to check on some details at the company. I'll be back to pick you up after lunch." He then reached down and tweaked the end of my penis. I smiled at him, wanting suddenly to cry that he had decided to show me this affection. "I love you," he said, and the three of them went down the stairs. As I heard the door to the street close Umar spoke softly.

"You have wonderful parents, they will have this sculpture shipped to America so that they can always remember how you were at this precious moment of your life."

I wasn't sure exactly why my parents thought this moment precious--or how Umar would know that--but I had a feeling that I was on the brink of changes in my life, both exciting and frightening.

• • •

The year I turned 12 was huge for me! We went to Europe. For a short while I was still the only naked person -- just like I'd been my whole life. But then Peter agreed to be naked, too, so that he could get a sculpture made of himself. The statue of me is right inside our house. It's really funny. If I open the door when someone knocks, I'm standing just inside, with a life size copy of myself right behind. I still don't know why my parents want a naked statue of me, but I like it. I imagine it is Peter, who looks almost exactly like me.

After visiting Germany we took the train to the Adriatic Sea. That's right, Peter -- and Henk -- went with us. Peter was naked on the train with me. His dad said he had no idea it was possible to take two naked boys across all the borders between Germany and Croatia, but my parents just assumed there would be no problems and nobody complained. Our parents snuggled Peter and I into one train bunk, our naked bodies keeping one another warm that night and all the rest of the time we were together that week. When we got to Croatia, it was even nakeder than Florida. Big people, little people, old, young, boys, girls -- everyone was naked. When we got to the island where we camped for a week everyone was naked. Even my family! That was a surprise to me. My dad got naked right away and helped Henk set up the two tents, make a fire, hang a hammock between two trees and get our camp set up. My mom changed into the bikini my dad had given her -- the one without a top. I have to admit she looks pretty hot! I was still uncomfortable getting an erection in public, but Peter just stood and stared at my mom and got all hard. She smiled at him and told him he was sweet.

When we got to the beach the water was beautiful, as crystal clear and blue as the best of Florida spring water -- but warmer, much warmer. I loved that water and wanted to swim every hour of the day! Seeing that everyone at the beach was naked, my sister decided right away she could swim topless. By the end of the first day she was naked the whole time and so was my mother. My brother had a much harder time. He thought the whole scene was "gay" except that he loved seeing so many hot, naked girls. He put his American bathing suit on and went around trying to impress some of them. The next day he tried the speedo.

"I had no idea girls all wanted to see naked guys," he spluttered at the campfire the next morning. Heading down to the beach he said he figured he'd give it one more try. I guess he meant trying to hit up girls naked. He was gone for a good part of the afternoon and looked awfully happy that evening. The next day he was missing again and then showed up at the evening campfire with a nicely tanned naked girl in tow.

But if the year I turned 12 was huge for me, the next year was an explosion. Yes, I discovered sex and had a lot better understanding of why my brother looked so happy that week on the Adriatic. My body, my mind, and my parents simply forced it upon me at every turn. My body -- well, I hit puberty and those erections got more and more difficult to hide. My mind -- well, I guess my mind followed where my body led. My parents -- they made sure I didn't make any other choices.

"Honey," my father called as I passed by his studio. After returning from Germany my father had spent two months rehabbing the carport, turning it into an expanded jewelry-making studio. It was August and it was the end of the first week of school. Walking home I was happy to be a stripped kid in the hot Florida summer. My mind was filled with fantasies about a new girl who was in my class, Cheryl Stevens, who'd moved to our small town in Florida all the way from Seattle, Washington! "Honey," my father called again.

"Hmm?" I shook myself out of reverie. "Oh, hi Dad!"

"Have a good day at school?"

I grinned in spite of myself and then put on my obligatory bored expression, "it was okay," I shrugged. I stood beside my father's work table as he fondled my penis. Given my fantasies and the extra stimulation I quickly stiffened to full hardness. My father kept stroking. I was still uncomfortable getting erections in public, but couldn't really complain to my dad--having basically asked him to love me this way. But I was thirteen now and ejaculating and if my father kept it up much longer I wouldn't be able to keep myself from spraying sperm all over the place. Stripped or not, I was shy about this topic and imagined that neither of my parents knew anything about my capability in this area.

"I've got a present for you," he said, pulling his fingers away from my spasming dick. In spite of my relief, my body ached for release. He reached for something on his workbench and slipped something shiny down the length of my erection, nestling it neatly at the base of my cock. I looked down. My hair is naturally blond, and even my pubic hair is so light it is almost transparent. I'm sure exposure to Florida sun keeps it bleached, in addition to genetic propensity. A thin strand of braided gold wire wrapped my penis, the filaments so fine that it would have been nearly invisible if not for the glint of the metal. "It's the first model to be produced in Henk's factory in Germany, so it's a special honor."

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to say. "Thank you," I added, not wanting to seem ungrateful. I guess an honor is an honor, even if you're not sure if you want the present. I pondered for another half minute and then asked, "do you think this counts as the first clothes I've ever worn?"

"I guess I never thought of it that way," my father replied.

"Well, I hope you don't consider me over-dressed!" I laughed and scampered out of the room.

That little piece of metal turned out to be much more important than I ever would have imagined in that moment of humor. At the time I ventured into the kitchen to grab a chocolate chip cookie. Somewhat guilty at having taken the last one I was startled at my mother coming in the back door. "Just going out to play," I said nonchalantly, palming the cookie against my thigh. I skipped down the back steps and only then realized that I was still sporting a full erection. Mortified, I hoped she didn't notice. I overly casually wandered over to the picnic table and sat down with my back to the house, both to hide my boner and my cookie consumption.

"Can you come help me set the table?" my mom called. It was twilight, pinks and oranges streaking across lighter blues of the retreating day. Darkness was already creeping from the eastern horizon, blurring the tops of the pine trees down the way.

"Be there in a minute." My fingers stole down and confirmed what I already knew. My penis was rock hard -- as hard as it ever gets. I needed to jack off in the worst way. I glanced back at the house. Bright yellow light spilled out the back door. I hoped that it was dark enough now that the people in the house couldn't see me or the picnic table clearly. I grasped my hard shaft. It was so hot I felt like I might blister my hand. But I was too desperate not to continue. I stroked slowly at first but quickly pumped as hard as I could to the finish. Sperm jetted out invisibly into the dark in sufficient quantity that I could hear the liquid splashing onto the ground. I sat on the picnic bench gasping for breath, my hand still holding my erection. I couldn't believe it -- I was just as hard as before! When a hand touched my back I nearly leapt straight out of my skin.

"Whoa there, bro', it's just me."

I turned and saw my brother silhouetted against the lights of the house.

"Why don't you come in for dinner. I'm sure you must be hungry."

I nodded. I felt light headed from the combination of cumming and hunger. My hand still grasped my penis and I realized I was still hard.

"Um," I muttered, "I can't . . . "

"Come on in," my brother put his arm around my torso and easily lifted me to my feet. He caught sight of my hand grasping my penis and chuckled. "Don't worry, we all do it. No big deal."

I let him lead me into the house and sit me at the table. Nobody said anything about my erection, which must have been red as well as hard. My mother didn't chastise me for not setting the table, or coming to dinner late. I sat at my place and wolfed down food like I hadn't eaten in days. My dad just grinned.

Saturday morning the sun filtered in to the sound of birds. A gentle breeze moved the curtains. In short, it was going to be a beautiful day. I stretched my body and yawned, becoming aware of an urgent need both to pee and to cum. I jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom and realized my penis was jutting straight up. Oh well, the shower would work. I got under the luke warm water and let a stream of urine shoot up into the down-coming shower. The need to cum hadn't diminished at all, so I slathered my cock up with hair conditioner and happily jacked myself to orgasm. It felt so good that I did it a second time. I clung to the soap dish so I wouldn't collapse. It felt like all the blood had just left my head and gone into my penis!

"Stop wasting water," yelled my sister.

"Okay!" I yelled back. She should talk. She could wash her hair for hours. But I don't think it's right. Floridians use too much water and I try to live differently. I should have jacked off in bed. I shut off the shower and got out. Since I've never worn clothes I've never gotten into the habit of drying off when the weather is hot, so I just padded out of the bathroom and headed for the kitchen and the smell of waffles. My mom was popping a fresh one out of the waffle iron just as I came in.

"Good morning sleepy head!"

"Hi mom."

I saw her glance quickly at my crotch and looked down myself. I was hard as can be, my penis sticking straight up. The pale glint of metal wire shone at the base.

"Oh shit," I muttered and started to leave the kitchen.

"Hey sport, why don't you stay for breakfast?" My dad caught me as I nearly ran into him in the doorway.

"Um, gotta take care of something."

"I see what you mean," my dad grinned, running his finger up my erection, "but you can do it here if you like."

"Dad!"

"Don't tease him, dear," my mother chided, but to me added, "it's really okay. You've always been our naked boy, and now that you're growing up you're still our naked boy. You can pleasure yourself anywhere and any time."

I was blushing bright red and decided it was best to change the subject. "Actually, I'm really hungry mom. How about some of those waffles."

And so the day went, and the next day, too. I never got soft. I didn't take up my parents' suggestion, but found ample opportunities to get off in private. I enjoyed the attention I gave myself, but my erection never went away and neither did the urge to cum. I could have had orgasms back to back all weekend! Instead my sister played laser chess with me. My brother succeeded in getting me to shoot hoops on the street in front of our house. I even managed to keep my cool when the elderly lady down the street walked past with her shopping bag. She always says hi to me and seemed to get an extra bit of pleasure out of it this time -- maybe because I'm hard? I don't know. My family still keeps their clothes on; I am the naked one. But since Europe they are a little more casual. My brother stripped down to his boxers and my sister wore her bikini--with the top--and we played under the sprinkler in the back yard. It was only as Sunday was coming to a close that I started to get worried. I decided to confide in my brother.

"Do you ever get hard, for like a long time?" I asked him.

"Sure, all the time," he grinned.

"I'm serious. You've seen me. I've had an erection all weekend."

"Yeah, but you're at that age. Dicks have a mind of their own. Sometimes your dick is hard all the time, until maybe just when you want it to be, and then . . . "

I didn't get what he was talking about. "What I'm saying is, I can't go to school like this."

He shrugged. "I don't see why not. It's pretty normal."

"How can you say that? Nobody sees your dick!"

"True. But, you're naked and I'm not."

I feigned punching him. Part of me wanted to call him names, but I needed help. "Please, you're not helping," I persisted. "Don't you see, I don't mind being naked. Anyway, that's normal for me. This isn't," I said, pointing to my ramrod shaft.

"But it could be. You know, stripped boys in most of Florida are hard all the time. Their parents put them on these pills that keep boys erect all the time. Or they make them wear these high-tech penis rings that pulse with ball bearings. Not only is the boy hard, but he might shoot without warning at any time."

I didn't ask my brother how he knew all this. But I was sensitive to the fact that we live in a small town and didn't want to sound as ignorant as I probably am.

"Anyway," he went on, "girls love seeing a big dick. Go to school tomorrow and just see if I'm right." He looked so smug about his prediction that I believed him. Or, maybe, I wanted to believe that Cheryl Stevens would notice me.

That night when my dad came to say good night he tweaked my now hard-as-a-rock penis and said "I love you."

"Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't know about going to school tomorrow."

My dad squeezed my dick. "Because of this?"

I nodded.

"I was a boy once, too. I have a hunch you have nothing to worry about."

I smiled. "Good night, dad."

• • •

Morning came and I was as hard as I'd feared. I considered faking sickness. I considered running away. I considered telling my family how heartless and cruel they were to make me go to school this way. But, I thought about Peter; how his father had made him go naked down the street with me that day. Truthfully I hadn't really given him that much sympathy. Not that I was mean, but going naked just wasn't such a big deal to me. Now I was thinking about it in a different light. Going naked in public for Peter was probably similar to me going to school sexually aroused, that is to say, a huge embarrassment. I washed up, slicked back my hair and sat down at the kitchen table to eat breakfast. Having an erection all weekend in front of my family had at least gotten me used to being embarrassed all the time! My sister came and ate breakfast next to me. My brother poured a glass of milk and ate a piece of toast standing up. Neither one teased me at all. I almost wished my brother would make some wise ass remark so I could punch him and call him names. Anything to relieve the tension of going to school this way.

"Time to go," my sister said. My mom gave us each a kiss. My dad tweaked my dick. It was his way of saying hello or good-bye ever since the day I asked him too. I smiled weakly.

"You'll have a great day. Just wait and see," he said. I nodded and was out the door.

* * *

My dad makes comments about a lot of things. One of them is that it wouldn't be middle school without a lot of jokes about farts. Well, I am in middle school, but I don't see what that's got to do with it. If you think about it, farts, and boners and burps and lots of other body stuff is pretty funny. So I wasn't that surprised that there were a lot of jokes at school about my newly erect state. What surprised me was that a lot of girls were suddenly very interested in me, and not as the butt of jokes. I guess my dad was right about that, too. Girls that haven't given me a second glance since second grade were suddenly trying to come up with conversation openers. Cindy and Hannah were vying over who got to sit next to me in Algebra. The shocker that has me pleased no end was that Cheryl Stevens cornered me after 6th period History. Our classmates had hurried off to take advantage of the four minute break between periods. Mr. Clemmons didn't have class last period. We were alone. Cheryl ran her hand up the center of my torso, just missing my erect penis and pausing on my sternum. I had battled the urge to jack off all day long. What was wrong with me? I'd never felt so horny in my life. I just about came at that moment.

"You're the nicest boy in school."

I didn't know what to say. Fortunately Cheryl took care of that problem by bringing her lips into immediate, wet, luscious contact with mine. My penis throbbed. My god, I'm going to come in two seconds -- this is going to be so embarrassing. I'm afraid I put so much concentration on keeping my sperm inside my body rather than all over her that I sort of missed my first-ever romantic kiss.

"I'll see you later," Cheryl announced cheerfully and was gone. I stood in the empty classroom and tried to still my beating heart. I realized I was hardly breathing. By the time I pulled myself together I had a difficult choice to make: I really needed to cum -- desperately needed to cum -- but I probably had 15 seconds before the bell. Was it worth being late for class and getting a lecture from Ms. Olivier? I darted out of the room and slid into an empty seat just as the bell finished ringing.

When I got home I lay in bed and made myself cum over and over again. In the last year I've really enjoyed masturbating. I do it standing, sitting, lying down, dry, with lotion, on my belly, on my back. I can't suck myself but I've tried, believe me I've tried. One of my favorite techniques is to lie on my belly and squeeze my soft penis against the floor -- making myself cum without ever getting hard. With this new permanent-for-three-days erection I couldn't do that anymore, so I was lying on my back jacking myself off with my erection pointing straight up at the ceiling. Just as I began squirting my father opened the door. I couldn't even scream at him I was cumming so hard. My dad stood there while I shot sperm all over the bed and gasped for breath, my expression bug-eyed with astonishment.

"Dad!"

"I was just checking on you. You came home and disappeared for over an hour. Looks like you're fine, though."

"You could have knocked."

"Actually, your mother and I have decided the next stage in 'naked boy' is going to be no more door for your room."

"Very funny."

My dad shrugged. "Just letting you know."

Sure enough, when I got home the next day my room was wide open: no door. Also, no more sheet or blankets on my bed. I looked both ways down the hall, made sure my family was temporarily occupied in other pursuits and set to work getting myself off. I couldn't help it. My penis ached all day at school. I needed to jack off so bad. I made myself cum in the bathroom over lunch break, but half an hour later I was as desperate as ever. And Cheryl. She came up to me again. This time I was lingering after class just in case, but I was as tongue-tied as the day before. This time she kept her fingers touching lightly on my belly, gave me a kiss with a hint of tongue and with a flash of a smile went off to her last period class. I lay on the bed imagining her fingers touching me just half an inch lower and shot an enormous load of sperm into the air. As I came I saw my sister pass by my room. I can't say if she saw me or not.

All week I was in a turmoil of emotions. I'm in love. I'm walking on air. Teachers have to repeat questions to me three times. My family, I don't even register my sister, brother, father, mother are talking to me. I'm in a fog of seventh heaven. My penis is throbbing with desire and nothing I can do makes it feel satisfied. Every night is an agony of sexual dreams, masturbating, tossing sleep. My bed is a mess of dried sperm and I no longer care that my mother must see the extent of my activities when she changes the sheet every day. They've set up my bed so the sheet is locked under the mattress with some type of clever clasp, so I have no choice but to leave this task to my mother. I can't possibly last the night without cumming to orgasm at least five or six times. Make that seventeen times last night.

Still, I try to maintain some type of decency. I don't masturbate at the dinner table or in the living room despite my mother's suggestion. I do my homework, shoot hoops, play in the backyard, set the table and try as hard as possible not to think about sex all the time. Until Monday that is, the Monday that marks ten days of non-stop throbbing erection. It is the end of 6th period and I am fully anticipating another short passionate lip-locked kiss with Cheryl. We've advanced to full body contact, my naked chest feeling the soft rise of her breasts, my hard erection pushed against the khaki skirt she wears in compliance with our school's uniform policy. My uniform, of course, is naked, but everyone else wears khaki pants, skirt, or knee-length shorts and forest green polo shirt.

I pull myself into Cheryl's wonderful embrace, lock lips, probe with my tongue, close my eyes and gasp as I feel her fingers wrap for the first time around my penis. The tip touches something so hot I wonder at first if the room is on fire. Instinct takes over and I plunge upward and feel the hot wetness envelope me. I open my eyes. Cheryl's skirt is on the floor. She pulls her arms from around me and awkwardly yanks her polo shirt up and over her head. She's not wearing anything under it and I suddenly realize that Cheryl is as naked as I am. The bell rings but we've only just begun. I grasp her around the waist and pull down and plunge upward, aching to get as much of my body inside her as I possibly can. Her wetness drips down, soaking my balls and starting down my legs. We gasp and moan and all too soon I shoot straight into her vagina. She grabs me hard, kisses me so hungrily that it hurts and squeezes her muscles around my erect penis as hard as she can. It feels wonderful. With a yell she starts shaking. Her vagina is clasping hard and releasing, throbbing strong and fast all around my shaft. It is more than wonderful. I am in awe. Oh, she must be cumming, I realize!!! For being a stripped boy and all, I know so little about sex. With that thought I start plunging into her all over again. I'm going to make up for that lack of knowledge right now!!!

That's how Mr. Clemmons found us, bound together in sweaty, naked, full blown intercourse. It was our third round and I had some staying power this time. I was revelling in the slick motion of pulling nearly out and sliding all the deep way in. Cheryl was moaning and writhing her body against mine, rubbing her belly and breasts and hands all over my receptive skin.

"Cheryl Stevens!" Mr. Clemmons boomed in his authoritative voice. He made history sound impressive, bold and true when he lectured us in class. At the moment it brought Cheryl to instant attention.

"Yes, sir," she answered.

"Come with me this instant. No, you have no need to get dressed," he added as she reached down for her discarded apparel.

I made to follow as they headed toward the classroom door. "You may get a tardy slip and attend your last period of the day, young man. You're not the one in trouble. Cheryl, however, is not yet a stripped girl."

That's how I found out that as a stripped boy I was allowed to have sex pretty much whenever, wherever I wanted -- but only as long as it was with another stripped person, boy or girl, I guess. Cheryl ended up naked, just like me. Her parents came to school where Cheryl was waiting in the Dean's office. As per Florida protocol she was held until her parents or guardians showed up, who were given the choice of stripping her for the nominal annual fee charged Florida residents, or pay a steep fine for failing to keep an unstripped child properly clothed in public. Cheryl's parents didn't seem terribly surprised that she was having sex and weren't in the mood to shell out $5,000. Believe it or not, as long as we didn't skip class, Cheryl and I were now allowed to fuck like bunnies -- at school, home, in the middle of the street for that matter. We didn't go quite that far, but we did have a lot of sex for another ten days or so. It was fantastic as far as I was concerned. I couldn't get enough, it was delicious, and I learned an awful lot about fucking. But Cheryl tells me she's "busy" and doesn't have time to get together anymore.

It's fine with me. Tamara is hot to have me. We meet up under the bleachers after school and she has her clothes off in record time. A seasoned lover, I plunge my hard-on into her body and fuck her hard. I tweak her nipple and pinch it as she lets out a yell. I feel her muscles convulsing delightfully around my shaft as she gasps "more, more, don't stop, please." I shoot into her hot vagina and struggle to continue fucking while nearly blacking out from the intensity of my own orgasm. We end up in a sweaty pile on the scrabbly earth under the bleachers. When we recover Tamara gives me a huge kiss. Dirt and bits of dead leaves are matted against her sweaty body, but she pulls her clothes on right over it all.

"Got to get home," she says, giving me a smile, "before anyone notices I'm not there. See you tomorrow."

I wander home filthy and naked. My penis is still hard, aching from fucking hard, and starting to ache in that now familiar longing for more sex.

"What the hell have you been doing?" my brother challenges me as I walk around the side of our house to the back door.

I shrug. "You look like something the proverbial cat dragged in," my sister says as I walk into the kitchen.

My mother looks up from the kitchen table where she is going through a pile of papers. She gives me a smile and I think she knows exactly what I've been up to. "Go take a shower and clean yourself up," she says gently.

Tamara and I move to a patch of grass by a tiny stream that runs along the edge of campus. An oak tree arches overhead and taller grasses provide a bit of cover. It's a much more comfortable spot to engage in our daily sex session and we come away with nothing more than grass stains on our skin. Evidently the location offers a bit of privacy as well as we manage to be lovers for almost two weeks before we get caught. We even sneak onto campus over the weekend. I'm grateful because once a day sex is proving to be the minimum I can live with. My dick throbs with desire and I jack off at least ten times a day--more on weekends. We got caught by a school board groundskeeper. in short order Tamara was taken to the office to await her mother's arrival. She, too, was stripped and after a short while didn't seem as enamored of our trysts. I admit to being amazed that so little attention is paid to me in these incidents. I guess it is just assumed that a stripped Florida boy will have sex, even if it leads to the stripping of one girl after another.

"Why don't you bring your girlfriends home some time," my mother urges. We're sitting at the table having dinner.

"Mom, please."

"I know you're very popular, honey. Invite a girl for dinner. She can spend the night if you like."

I don't like this easy familiarity my mother puts on about my having a sex life. I've never discussed it with her directly, although everyone in town knows the circumstances of each girl getting stripped.

"There's nothing to be ashamed of," my dad interjects. Your brother and sister have had lovers. The two of them are abruptly preoccupied with the details of getting food onto forks. Neither returns my look. I guess I shouldn't be completely surprised that either of them has had sex, but I know nothing about it. I'm the naked person in my family. Every detail of my life is laid bare for everyone to see.

"Well," I stumble, "I guess they've never had someone over to spend the night--that way, I mean."

"I just want you to know that any girl you want to invite over is more than welcome," my mother concludes. "She can have dinner, stay over. The two of you can make love on the living room couch if you like." It would be just about as private as my bedroom, I think, what with no door and all.

After just a few days of no sex sessions with Tamara I found my skin crawling with sexual desire, as if a colony of ants had taken up residence inside my body and was driving me off a cliff with pent-up arousal. The appearance within weeks of two stripped girls in the hallways of school had gotten the word out. I'm guessing there wasn't a student in the school who did't know the why and wherefore of how there were now three naked kids, not just one. The happy result for me was that I now had a crowd of girls clamoring for my attention. I took full advantage of the situation and met a different girl after school for sex every day of the week. I was careful not to get another girl stripped, although I'm not sure the girls cared. It turned out that Cheryl and Tamara had achieved immense popularity with the senior boys on the football team. I'm sure the school administration was not unaware of this connection, but didn't want their top football players having to play naked. Whatever the reason, the girls were known to be screwing half the team and yet none of the boys were stripped.

Thanksgiving vacation arrived. Florida weather is unpredictable at this time of year and the temperatures dropped from what had been balmy days in the 80s to shiveringly cold highs in the 40s, with night time lows in the 20s. Florida law allows stripped kids to wear a warm poncho, socks, shoes and a hat during cold weather. My parents, however, are very strict with me. They are adamant that I never experience the feeling of any clothes. The sole exception is the tiny twine of wires around the base of my penis. When the weather gets too cold they simply keep me home. Normally I like Thanksgiving. My mother spends the whole day filling the house with the delicious smells of cooking. We gather for a casual family feast, sometimes with one or two guests who crave belonging to a family for a day. I became horribly restless in the days following. I tried venturing outside but the cold was too much, even though I am pretty hardy from a lifetime of exposure to the elements. To make matters worse a cold drizzle began to fall, making it even more unlikely that I could get very far from home. Bedraggled leaves coated the ground, wind rustled the trees and darkness closed in. I lay on my bed in my doorless room and tried to cheer myself up by cumming over and over again. I tried to maintain some sense of privacy, but I was getting less careful. The next night my mother brought me a blanket and a space heater.

"It's going to be a cold night, honey. We don't want you to get sick." After two months of sleeping bare on top of the sheet the blanket felt unbelievably cozy, but already I found it too confining to have a good jack-off session. I felt hampered by fabric. I threw it off, made myself cum one more time, bundled myself up in the cover and slept fitfully through dreams of intercourse where I couldn't manage to cum.

Monday morning I was up bright and early, eager to get to school and find another girl hot for a session with my hard dick. I studiously ignored the obviously cold, wet weather outside. My brother was bundled up in a warm sweater. His scarf and hat lay on the table ready to be put on. My sister was rummaging around looking for something warmer to put on. I sat close to the stove, stealing extra bits of warmth from the oven where my mother had just pulled out a tray of biscuits. My skin was tingling and my toes were numb from the cold. Florida houses are not exceptionally well built for winter weather, and ours is no exception. If it were not for the lure of sex I would be snuggled under my blanket.

"Sweetheart!" my mother exclaimed. "You look cold. Get back in bed this instant. You know you're not going to school and I think your sister and brother can manage to get out the door without your supervision."

"But, mom . . . " I pleaded. "It isn't that cold." I knew better than to ask to wear a poncho or a sweater. What's the difference between wearing a blanket in bed and wrapped around myself in school? I've felt the fabric against my skin. But I keep these thoughts to myself.

"You're staying home and that's final."' My mother's voice was adamant and she turned back to getting breakfast on the table for my father who was just getting out of the shower. I knew he was supposed to drive to Jacksonville to a jeweler's convention. He'd be gone for two days. My mother's in a hurry to get out the door as well. She works as a volunteer substitute at the library and with the bad weather, staff have been calling in sick. I jump up from the table.

Scurrying to my room I pull out a sheet of paper from my binder, scribble a note as neatly as I can, draw two big intertwining hearts and sign my name. I look over the note to make sure it is alright, then fold it over and carefully tape the three edges together securely. In big letters I write "Tami" on the front. We've been friends since preschool. What with my latest sexual adventures we haven't really been spending any time together at all, but if you could magically delve into my heart there are two people I love most--other than my family I mean (who I don't love "that" way). You know what I'm talking about, I think. Anyway, this is a daring move only partially fueled by sexual desperation. I hurry back to the kitchen to catch my brother before he goes out the door. He's shoveling the last bite of biscuit and eggs into his mouth. My sister stands by the door as if to let him know he's about to be late.

"Could you do me a favor?" I ask, trying my best to act casual.

"Sure, but make it quick. It's time to leave."

"Could you give this to Tami? I was supposed to tell her something today, but since I won't be going to school . . . "

My brother eyes the folded sheet of paper. I hold it out, ignoring his teasing. "Sure bro," he says, taking the note from my hand and putting it into his backpack.

"Don't forget. Oh, and she needs it first period."

My brother looks at me and then winks. He opens his mouth and then closes it. I have the feeling I haven't fooled him one bit.

My brother and sister leave. My mom puts my dad's breakfast on the table, makes a whirlwind through the house getting ready to leave, kisses my dad, admonishes me to get back in bed and is out the door. My dad absentmindedly wolfs down his biscuit, eggs, grits and coffee. I sit at the table and watch him eat. He gets up, washes his dishes, sets them in the drying rack and leaves the room. I hear him in the bathroom, the faucet runs and turns off. He darts into the bedroom and emerges with an overnight bag and a warm coat. I saw him load his display cases into the car the night before.

"Stay warm. I'll be back day after tomorrow." I give him a hug and he tweaks the end of my erect penis. "And have a good time. Sounds like you won't be too lonely here?" I'm not sure why he says this or how much he's guessed, but I just nod.

"Love you, dad." He picks up his stuff and I stand shivering in the doorway while he gets into the car, turns it on and backs out of the driveway.

I close the door and immediately turn up the main thermostat, turn on the space heater in my room and wait to see if I'll be spending a lonely day or not.

* * *

Nervous and lonely I waited to see if I'd be spending a day alone in the house. My father was away in Jacksonville at a trade show, my mother wouldn't be home until late in the evening after working at the library all day. The first to be home would be my brother. My sister was going over to a friend's house to study after school. At least I wasn't cold anymore. I hoped my parents wouldn't notice the spike in the utility bill. I'd set the thermostat to 85 and had the space heater plugged in and going strong in my bedroom. Well, they won't let me wear clothes, so what do they expect, I rationalized.

The front doorbell rang and I started. In spite of myself my heart was pounding. Don't be silly, I chided myself, it's probably a Jehovah's Witness or a FedEx delivery. I peeked through the side window and saw Tami turned away from the wind looking bundled up and cold. I rushed to open the door. She let herself in quickly and I closed the door against the chill that struck my skin like the snap of a wet towel.

Tami was peeling off hat, scarf and coat and laying them aside.

"Come on in, it's warmer in back," I offered. Tami followed me into the kitchen. "Want some tea?" I asked, feeling formal and foolish and motherly all at the same time.

Tami sat down in a chair and nodded at the place opposite. Obediently I sat down; we looked across the table at one another.

"So, you send me a note and think I'm just going to come running over, huh?"

"Um, Tami, it isn't like that, I . . . "

"Sure, Mr. Hotshot who gets a girl stripped every other week is stuck at home in the cold and feeling horny. Time to call Tami."

"But, Tami, you're my friend. We've been friends forever!" I protest.

"Uh, huh, that's why you've been spending so much quality time with me this year," she replies sarcastically.

"I'm really sorry. I am. It's been a confusing time for me."

"Very confusing, I'm sure. And painful. How many girls have you fucked, anyway?"

"Um, maybe ten?"

"Ten." She looks at me, the silence dragging out. "But you're not sure."

"Well, there was Cheryl, and then Tamara and . . . "

"Look, hot stuff, I didn't skip out of school to listen to your litany of girlfriends. Get in there and fuck me, okay?"

I get out of my chair and follow her into my bedroom, grinning in spite of myself.

"What happened to your door?"

"My parents removed it. They say it's part of my being 'naked boy.' Actually, until this weekend I haven't even had a blanket. No sheet, nothing."

"Yeah, your parents are hard core about you; never understood why. I meant to ask you, what's with the permanent erection? They got you on the pills, too?"

"Nah, I'm not on pills or anything. I don't really know why I'm always hard. Puberty?"

"I've got brothers--they're hard a lot, but not all the time. You ever get soft?"

I shake my head no. "Never."

"Weird." Tami strips her top over her head. She's wearing a sports bra underneath which she peels off as well. Her breasts are firm and rounded. I can't help admiring how beautiful she is. I've known her my whole life, almost. This friend who I know so well has blossomed on the outside into a beautiful girl I almost don't recognize. She shimmies out of her jeans and underwear and stands there naked. "The jewelry. Your dad make it?"

I look down at my penis which is now even more erect, if that is possible. "Yeah, yeah, my dad made it for me." I nod my head unnecessarily up and down.

"Well, let's do it."

I don't ask how Tami is so comfortable getting naked and demanding sex. Busy like me, I'm guessing. She's on the bed and I lean down and kiss her. My hand reaches out to stroke her breast which is unexpectedly soft and warm. She reaches for my erection and whispers near my ear, "Just fuck me. We can talk later."

Sex with Tami is easy and new, as familiar as a friend and as exotic as a foreign land. I'm in a rush to get to know this new place, but wanting it to last forever and forever and forever. She challenges me with whispered commands, moves on top of me and rides me like none of the ten or so girls I've had sex with so far. She lays under me and lets me take my time. I realize my sex life is young indeed. Every moment I discover new sensations, new ways to move, new ways to pleasure her, new ways to enjoy. In the back of my sex-sodden brain I catch a faint glimmer of a thought. Am I in love? I don't have time to dwell on it in the midst of the surge of physical sensations that are flooding my body. The edge of desperation dulled for the time being, we lie in each other's arms and talk, staring up at the ceiling of my room--the room I've lived in my whole life--the room Tami and I have played in together countless times over the last ten years. Tami moves her body down the bed and surprises me by taking my penis into her mouth in a long wet slurpy sucking. Another thing no girl has ever done to me--nobody at all, actually! I moan and squirm across the bed. Tami manages to keep me inside her mouth, tonguing the tip of my penis and running her teeth softly up the shaft.

"That is so amazing; oh my God, I never knew anything could feel this good!" Before I know it I'm cumming again, in spite of having shot three orgasms into Tami's vagina already that morning.

We lie back, lounging again in bliss. The house is unbelievably warm. I almost convince myself it is summer and that we can lie here sun-drenched day after day.

"If you think that's good, wait until I teach you how to do me," Tami murmurs into my ear. "But first, I want lunch." She taps my penis, "you're very nutritious, but I need something in addition to the liquid diet."

I laugh. We wander into the kitchen and I pull out the fixings for grilled cheese sandwiches. I find a can of soup and open it and pour the contents into a saucepan to warm it up.

I look across the kitchen and grin contentedly at the sight of Tami's naked body lounging against the counter. It's so nice to be naked with a friend. "All my life I've been the only naked person; and now I'm not."

"You made sure of that, getting those girls stripped."

I flinch from the barbed remark in the midst of my reverie. "What I mean is, you look so comfortable being naked."

"I don't spend all my time in clothes, you know. Just when I have to."

I nod. I didn't know. I realize I have no idea what Tami's been up to lately, her thoughts, her activities, even who she's been hanging out with. I resolve to work on this friendship -- and not just for the sex.

We eat our lunch and move back into the bedroom. I spend an hour learning how to pleasure Tami with my tongue, discovering the salty curves and crevices of her labia, tonguing her clit, pushing my "little hardon" into her vagina. She comes so many times that I lose count. Finally I can stand it no more and fuck her one last time, letting myself scream my orgasm into her and letting my convulsions last as long as possible in imitation of her more long-lasting female climax.

"Sorry, bud. Gotta get myself back home before anyone misses me," Tami says.

"Definitely."

"Maybe tomorrow?"

"If it's below 48 degrees I'll be here." Suddenly I hope it will be cold. It's the first time I'm longing to be kept home instead of resenting my parent's absolute refusal to let me wear even so much as a shawl.

I let her out and watch her run down the block. Her pace is strong and even. At the corner she waves and is gone. I stand in the doorway letting the cold blow all over my very satisfied body. Back inside I remember to turn down the thermostat and turn off the space heater. I clean all the dishes, wipe down the table, and feeling magnanimous towards the world decide to go overboard. I clean the bathroom--tub, sink, toilet, floor; mop the kitchen floor; fluff the pillows on the couch; and make sure my room is neat and tidy. I realize with chagrin that there is nothing I can do about the sex stains on the sheet. My mother's set it up so I can't take the bottom sheet off my bed. I make a mess of it night after night and she changes it day after day. I shrug and arrange the blanket neatly over the whole bed. Hopefully she'll be in a hurry and not notice that the mess is any different than the usual sperm stains.

* * *

The next day instead of skipping out of school, Tami skips school entirely. She gets to the house almost too early, my brother and sister having left only a few minutes before. I feed her breakfast, enjoying the task of making us cups of hot tea, warming up biscuits, scrambling eggs, setting butter and honey on the table. She takes off her clothes as soon as she arrives and we sit opposite one another naked. I imagine us married and naked and sitting at our kitchen table together every morning. Instead of heading off for work we stay home and make love and hang out and eat lunch. We make love again and take a nap.

Tami wakes with a start. "Shit, I've got to go."

"It's not that late," I protest, "can't we make love one more time?"

"I don't want to get in trouble. My parents will kill me if they find out I skipped school to come here."

"We'll be quick," I assure her, already positioning myself at the opening to her vagina. She says nothing but allows me to enter her. We linger over our lovemaking, lavishing attention on one another, stopping to kiss, moving toward orgasm surely, but slowly. When I climax it is different than I've ever felt it before, deeper, less convulsive, more encompassing. Always I've brought Tami to orgasm first, making sure she gets her pleasure, but this time I cum first and as the feeling soaks through me she begins to cum, adding her own notes to the chorus. We feel the music of our bodies and cannot bring ourselves to get up and bring an end to it until the last resonances have played out deep within our bones. I give Tami one last tender kiss. She sits up and looks at the clock next to my bed. "I'm going to have to figure out some excuse," she mumbles, kicking around on the floor to find her clothes in the tangle of the blanket we let slide there earlier. The house is fantastically warm, thermostat up and space heater running full blast.

Tami jams her legs into her pants, pulls her blouse over her head and puts her sweater on as she goes down the hall. I give her a quick kiss good-bye and she is down the steps and takes off at a trot. I'm about to pull the door shut against the icy air when I see my mother's car pull into the driveway and disappear out of view behind the house. I close the door and run back to the kitchen. The place is a mess: dishes on the table, food on the countertops from our breakfast and lunch.

"What's going on in here? The place feels like a tropical jungle," my mother exclaims as she comes in the back door.

"Well, you can't leave me here all alone and expect me to freeze," I protest.

"Was that Tami I saw just now leaving out the front door?" My mother is taking off her hat and scarf, hanging her coat up next to the back door.

"Um, yeah, she just stopped by for a couple of minutes," I mumble.

My mother comes into the kitchen and looks around. She scans the sink, the table, the countertops. "Looks like more than a couple of minutes. School is just getting out. Tami's parents are going to be seriously upset to find out she skipped."

"No mom," I yell, lunging across the kitchen, "please, don't call them. They'll keep her from seeing me."

"I have to let them know," she insists. "What'd you do, make love all day?" My mother stands in the doorway to my room, surveying the rumpled bed, the blanket jumbled on the floor. I spot Tami's underwear and realize she missed pulling them on in her rush to leave.

"Maybe they won't figure out she wasn't at school." I'm getting desperate. "Besides, you told me to have a girlfriend over to the house."

"That's right, so invite a girl over for dinner. Spend the night. Just don't invite her to skip school in the bargain."

"Okay, I won't. I promise. So I learned my lesson and I won't do it again. Just don't call Tami's parents."

"I'm glad you learned your lesson. I have a feeling her parents will figure it out on their own. I'm not going to call them," my mother tells me, "but if they ask me, I'm not going to lie."

I nod my head. I feel stupid having dragged out our time together. If I'd just let Tami go home 10 minutes earlier none of this would be happening.

Next day the weather is warmer. I'm at school. Tami catches me in the hall between periods.

"School called and told them I was absent for two days. They don't know where I was and I'm not telling them. But I'm grounded until further notice. 'At least until next semester, including the holidays,' is what my mom said. They're dropping me off at school and picking me up afterwards -- they're pissed as hell about it. Sorry bud, it was beautiful, but I can't spend time with you right now."

My world crashes down around me. I wander the halls for the rest of the day unseeing.

"Watch where you're going, naked boy!" I mumble an apology and manage to avoid crashing into the next person. I don't hear teachers in class, I miss easy questions on our science pop quiz. In short, I'm a wreck.

* * *

"What's wrong, honey?" my mother asks when she gets home. I'm slumped at the kitchen table. I haven't touched my homework. I haven't eaten a snack. I'm all alone in my miserable world. "I didn't say anything to Tami's parents, you know."

I nod glumly. My mother waits. "She's grounded. I won't be seeing her for awhile, except maybe in the hallway. We don't even have lunch period together."

"I didn't know Tami was so important to you."

"Are you kidding? I've known her practically my whole life."

"But, you haven't been spending a lot of time with her lately -- at least not around here."

"That's just it. I took a risk. She's the love of my life and she loves me and it was all so perfect. I just have to be with her. I just do."

"You'll survive, champ," my mother says, "there are lots of girls in the world."

"I don't want lots of girls. I only want her."

"Sweetheart." My mother sits down at the chair next to me and takes my hands away from my face. "Look at me, honey, please?"

I look up. My mother is looking at me gently and with compassion. I wipe away the tears that are starting to form, burning hot in the corners of my eyes.

"This is a special time of life. You're young. You're just discovering who you are, your feelings, your body, your ability to have friends and to love. This is the time to reach out and try things. It will be years before you settle down and choose one girl and get married. I was 24 years old when I married your father -- and I still felt young and wild and restless." My mother laughed at her memories and looked at me with a smile. "It's wonderful to be a naked sexy 13-year old. Enjoy it to the max. Invite girls over, have fun, make love, enjoy yourself -- I don't mind if you have a different girl over every week, every day!"

I look at my mother bleakly. It sounds like a nightmare. "A different girl every week for ten years, mom? My god, that's 520 girls!!! I just want Tami. That's all." That's almost true, but true enough for my mother who right now is sounding like a complete jackass.

"You'll survive. Besides, you have such a super strong sex drive that you'll be fucking another girl within a few days."

I want desperately to prove my mother wrong. In fact I last almost a week. The girl I'm fucking 6 days later is Alexandra, the most notoriously hateful girl in the entire school. She uses other girls as scratching posts to sharpen her talons so she can turn boys into emotional shreds. We fuck with the wild abandon of two people who have seen through the flimsy scrim of love and know there is nothing left but raw physical need. I walk the halls knowing my fangs are sharp and capable of killing in an instant should anyone dare to cross me with a kind word. Schoolwork and exams are completed with ruthless perfection. At home I treat my sister, brother, mother, father with contempt and sarcasm, reaching for any look or word that will plunge my hatred deep into their pathetic selves. My only compassion is to feel sorry that they are so deluded by the world as to still think there is anything worthwhile to live for. Doesn't my sister see how her boyfriend eyes her with shallow lust? My brother sees beauty where his girlfriend's flesh is death's mockery of life. Astoundingly my family lets my vitriol roll away like drops of mercury skittering across the floor. My inability to hurt the only people whom I still love boils the blood in my veins. I cannot sleep at night, my head is near splitting with pain and I seriously consider setting my bed on fire. Beat me, just try to attack me, I breathe--anything so I am justified in pulling out my bitter sword and slicing off your head!

I am completely disarmed by my father's announcement. "Peter is arriving tomorrow."

"Peter?"

"Yes, tomorrow. He and his father are flying into Jacksonville tonight and driving over first thing in the morning."

I am further discombobulated by Alexandra's parting words at school the next day. "I'm going on a skiing vacation until January 10th, squirt. It's been amusing playing with such a little kid for the last three weeks." She tosses her overly black dyed hair with the bright orange streak. She reaches out with her one painted fingernail and draws it down my chest. A line of bright red flashes on my skin before I even feel the cut.

I sleep the night of no dreams and wake to sunlight. The doorbell rings and there stands Peter, his father behind him. He is naked and blonde and I know he looks just like me, his skin tanned and weathered but a little wan from winter.

"I'm stripped, look!" he exclaims and shows me the tiny bandaid behind his left ear. "They did it at the airport under the picture of the twins -- they look like us!"

I notice my heart beating for the first time in a month -- as I knew I would. I am alive and it hurts. I grab Peter and hold him so close I nearly squeeze the breath out of him, but he makes no move to save himself. Henk and my parents move into the kitchen. Coffee is made and conversation, chit chat and catching up on old news. But Peter and I are outdoors marveling that there is sun and sky and trees and leaves. We do cartwheels in the dried leaves. We do handstands and try to race each other awkwardly down the driveway, laughing that our faces turn bright red and then righting ourselves once again. With a shouted message to the adults we run down the street to the park and cavort on the playground swings and the deserted merry-go-round where kids have to push and push and push at a run and then jump aboard. We tiptoe in the brisk water of the tiny stream alongside the park and dare one another to lie down in the only deep part. Dripping and cold we run home and tumble in the back door and ask for mugs of hot chocolate.

At night we sleep on the bare sheet with no blanket, our bodies wound around one another for warmth and love. My penis throbs.

"Look," my father says to Peter, "I have a present for you." He holds out a twined bit of silver and copper wire. Henk takes it from my tather's hand and reaches for Peter and slips it down his son's penis, nestling it securely at the base. We finish our breakfast and Peter wanders over and looks at himself in the mirror. Then he comes back and grabs my arm. Standing side by side in front of the mirror he grins.

"Now we really are twins," he says.

It is true. That was the only remaining difference. My penis was hard and erect, as it has been all year, with the bit of wire at the base. Peter is now embellished with the identical-looking wire -- his silver and copper and mine gold -- and he too is sporting a stout erection. I observe that my dick, and his, have become longer and thicker in the past year. I attribute mine to constant stimulation and sex, but perhaps I'm also growing up.

That afternoon the house is quiet. Everyone has somewhere else to be. Peter and I have my bed. My penis is throbbing with desire. I may no longer be in the thrall of Alexandra and our heartless lust, but my body continues to push its relentless urges.

"I could invite a friend over, a girl," I suggest. "For sex." I'm thinking of Tami, of how I miss her and how magical my world would be if both my loves were here together.

He cringes a bit and shrugs his shoulders.

"Oh, I get it. You don't want to share. I could probably find someone else. Invite two girls."

Peter shakes his head.

"You don't want to have sex?!" I ask incredulously. I wonder how I'm going to survive Peter's entire visit if he's sleeping in my bed and he's with me all the time. How am I going to get away and fuck? I don't think I can make it that long.

"I am just too shy, you know?" Peter replies. "I mean, except with you. I know you."

"Um, well, I could show you something one of my girlfriends did to me. I mean, if you didn't mind. Maybe we could do it to each other."

Peter smiles and nods. "Okay. With you not a problem."

I lean down and take Peter's hard penis into my mouth, sucking it slowly in, feeling the soft skin, nibbling at the tip. Peter groans. I keep going, drawing him all the way into my throat. I fight my gag reflex, knowing how good he'll feel if I can suck him all the way in. I pulse my throat and begin to draw upwards, plunge down, draw upwards the length of his shaft. I feel Peter's fingers on my head, the nails grasping my scalp and I know just how intense the sensations are that he's feeling. I smile around the penis in my mouth and suck harder, plunge faster and take him closer and closer to the orgasm I know is coming. I've never done this before, but I'm ready for the ejaculation and find it exciting and warm and wonderful. Slowly I draw off his penis. He shudders at the movement along his sensitive member. Like me, he stays hard even after he has cum.

I sit back on my folded legs and look at him. He is beaming.

"Let me do you!" We trade places and I discover that he is much better at giving oral pleasure than the girl who introduced me to this feat. It is not just pent up sexual tension that I release into his throat, but love.

We lie back and rest and then do it all over again. That night after everyone is asleep Peter whispers in my ear. "That is not the only thing boys can do together, you know." I am silent. The sound of my own blood is suddenly loud in my ears. The night seems dark and still and massive. I have never knowingly thought or spoken of this truth, but instantly I realize that I've waited months for exactly this moment. Almost imperceptibly I nod in the darkness. Peter rolls me onto my stomach, positions himself over me and ever so gently lays his penis against my anal opening. I open my mouth to protest but in that moment Peter pushes into me. There is a moment of pain and then he is inside me. Peter moves slowly and then deeper. I feel the pleasure begin to soak through my body like a sponge absorbing water. He moves faster and plunges as deeply into me as he can. He releases himself into me with a silent scream into the darkness.

When we trade places I find that fucking Peter is more wonderful than any experience I've ever had with anyone but Tami. The two cannot be compared. They are as different as these two people. In the middle I find myself: a boy who can love. A naked boy with a perpetual hard on, a super sex drive, and a big sloppy romantic heart. We fuck until we ache. Penises raw, assholes sore, even our arms worn out from holding up plunging bodies. Tired and sperm-drained we fall into slumber in my doorless bedroom on display in the morning for all who care to feast their eyes on boy lovers at the very cusp of adolescence.

It is a glorious week between Christmas and New Year's. Peter and I bask in each other's love and try all sorts of crazy sex. Henk offers a few suggestions, delivered so casually that I wonder if he even knows what he's talking about. But each one proves enjoyable and I begin to see Peter's father with new curiosity. New Year's eve is a big party. My sister's boyfriend makes a rare appearance. Even my brother has a girlfriend over, although she is someone new that we've not met before. We're snuggled in the living room. It's in the very front, but even in this small house we almost never use it. But tonight we have a lot of people over and the kitchen is just too small to hold everyone. My father is sitting in a chair and I'm nestled between his legs, his fingers idly stroking my penis upwards, over and over again. If I could I would be purring like a cat. Peter is on the other side of the room, similarly situated between Henk's legs and being stroked and twiddled. Conversation swirls around the room, but I am oblivious. There is a knock on the door.

My mother gets up and returns with another guest in tow. Everyone looks at the naked new arrival with interest.

"Tami!" exclaims my sister. "I didn't know you were stripped!"

"Yup, I was," Tami replies in a clipped tone. "Just walked downtown, took off my clothes in Sapp's and set off the sensors. Poor old Mr. Sapp has known me my whole life -- begged me to get dressed and there would be no problem. But I just looked him in the eye and told him I knew what I was doing. Police showed up, called my folks. I knew they couldn't afford to pay the fine so here I am naked. They're pretty steamed, I can tell you."

I'm not sure what is going on. My dad continues to stroke me.

Tami looks from me to Peter, taking in this seeming duplicate of the same boy sitting across from me. "How'd you get a twin?" she asks.

Henk laughs, "Just keeping them primed. We're planning to shoot the boys off at midnight, like New Year's firecrackers, you know?"

My mother touches Tami's arm nervously. "So, Tami, we're just having a fairly mundane New Year's eve. Would you like a place to sit?"

"That's very kind of you. I don't even know if you want me here. I just wandered over on a lark."

"Oh, of course we want you, but is everything okay with your folks?" my mom inquires.

"Not really. We got into a big fight. Why I got myself stripped actually. My mom's still pissed I skipped school, but not for the reason you'd think. She says I shouldn't be stuck on loving any one person right now. I should be fucking lots of different boys. Getting out more. Whatever."

"Yeah, my mom, too. I'm supposed to fuck 520 girls in the next ten years," I mumble.

"Is she the one?" Peter interrupts.

I nod.

"The one what?" Tami asks.

"The girl he wanted to share with me."

"You think you can just dole me out to whomever, just like that?" Tami's nostrils flare with anger.

"It isn't like that," Peter interjects hastily. "He's been missing you like anything; he was trying to figure out how to get you to come over. I think he thought I'd be upset or lonely so he said he thought he could find another girl to come over and keep me company. But I said if he loves you so much, I am sure I would love you, too."

"Tami," I say, "let me introduce you to Peter, the boy I love most in the entire world." I pause, "And, Peter, let me introduce you to Tami, the girl I love most in the entire world."

Tami shifts uncomfortably. "If the boys are primed," she says looking from Henk to my father and including the rest of the gathering in her gaze, "would it be so terrible if they shot off in me instead? I could use some New Year's firecrackers."

I leap forward from my father's embrace. "You mean it? You want me to take you to my bedroom?"

"I want you right here . . . and I thought you wanted to share. I'm doing both of you boys."

"Which of us do you want first?"

"If you're planning to shoot for the New Year we don't have much time; I can handle you both at once."

The logistics are a bit tricky, but we work it out. Tami lies on her back. I plunge my penis into her vagina, and at Tami's insistence Peter fucks her in the mouth, his cute ass in my face. All fall I've resisted even so much as jacking off in front of my family. Now I'm having threesome sex in front of an entire gathering. I vaguely wonder what my brother's new girlfriend will think of me, but then I am caught up in the sensations of fucking Tami. Peter is going at it strong now. Tami moans around his penis as he fucks her hard. I see his ass muscles tighten and know he'll be shooting soon. My father starts the countdown to midnight and I speed up. I can feel the tension building up inside my whole body. It's going to be a big one. Tami starts cumming, her body undulating beneath us. I feel the heat and the contractions building up in her vagina. Peter tenses up, thrusts himself deep into Tami's throat and lets out a high-pitched, nearly soundless scream. I can feel Tami's moans as vibrations more than sounds. Just as my dad counts "one, zero . . . " I erupt with the largest orgasm of my life, pouring jet after jet of sperm up into Tami. My own body is shuddering and my pelvis is thrust so far into Tami's that I feel like we're almost one person.

Everyone is yelling Happy New Year and whooping it up. Peter pulls his slick erection out of Tami's mouth. She gasps for breath and I finally slump down onto her heaving body. I realize that champagne glasses have appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and everyone's been drinking a toast. Henk tries to hand a tall half-full tulip glass to me, but I just shake my head, unable to speak.

"That was incredible!" my mom bursts out. Henk, my father, even my sister and brother look red and flushed, as if they've all been having sex themselves. I roll off Tami, who sits up. Peter snuggles next to her, looking very adorable. My mom hands us a full champagne glass and we pass it between the three of us, sipping down the bubbly cold liquid.

"Well, now that we've brought in the New Year, maybe we should have the boys do each other," suggests Henk. Everyone claps and cheers.

"Yes, do it, please," Tami says. "I want to watch."

Peter and I suck each other off. It takes time to cum, both of us just having had mind-blowing orgasms. Then, taking even more time, I fuck Peter in the ass. At first I penetrate him slowly and gently, drawing my erection in and out of his smooth butt. After awhile I begin to feel like I can cum again and I pick up the pace. Peter relaxes under me and I can penetrate even deeper. I pull myself up onto my arms and slam into him as hard as I can. Just as I release my sperm I feel him start to cum himself. I collapse and we roll over onto our sides, my penis still embedded inside Peter. I gasp for breath and then start laughing. I laugh and laugh. Peter starts laughing, too and finally Tami joins us, the three of us laughing from relief and love and happiness. I can't believe we all just put on a sex show for our family and visitors. I've spent my entire naked life trying to avoid being on display.

"You finally did it, mom," I say, tears rolling down my eyes with laughter.

"What did I do, funny bones?" she asks.

"You got what you wanted: I'm naked, with a girlfriend visiting, on display and having sex in the living room--I even have a boyfriend."

* * *

Tami spends the night and at intervals Peter and I each fuck her again, fuck one another, and sleep all bundled together. I hear my dad whisper to my mom in the hall, "Why don't you throw a blanket over them. Tami's not used to sleeping bare yet." Then I'm out like a light until late into New Year's Day.

We have just a few days until school opens up again. Peter and Henk are returning to Germany. Tami and Peter and I pack in our time together. We eat, we play, we run and cavort outdoors, we talk, we laugh and we have lots and lots of sex.

"I just can't believe how much sex you two can have," exclaims Tami. Peter and I look at each sheepishly and shrug.

"I guess we're just horny boys," I reply.

"I've known lots of boys. You two are unusual. Exceptional I would say."

Peter shrugs again and dives for my crotch and starts sucking me to my tenth orgasm of the day.

"I like your rings. I've never seen anything like them. How did you both end up with the exact same thing?"

"My dad made them."

"And my dad's factory is going to make lots of them," Peter adds. We grin at Tami.

"Just so you know, I'm not complaining. I love sex," Tami puts in. "I'm just happy to be getting so much of it, and from people I actually like."

I nod. I know just what she's talking about. "Yeah, too many lovers is not all it's cracked up to be."

It is something of a sore subject. My mom had "the talk" with me as recently as yesterday. You know, get out, see more people, have girlfriends, explore, be adventurous. Tami's mom is much more adamant than mine. Tami is officially on the shit list for claiming that I'm the love of her life.

"But, mom!" she exclaimed two days ago. "I have TWO boyfriends now. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Tami's mom had come over. She was sitting at our kitchen table berating Tami for spending all her time at our house. You could be out every night. There's no school. I'm sure there are lots of boys who would take you dancing. You could bring them home, have them spend the night. Why are you boxing yourself in so young. Why, when I was your age I would have done anything to have my mom tell you what I'm telling you. I had to sneak around and hide all my sexual activities. She suspected I had a boyfriend and was all worked up about it. If she'd known I ended up sleeping with twenty or thirty boys every semester she would have had me put into a convent!!!

"I understand, mom," Tami said in a gentle voice. "But times have changed, I guess. I know I can have any boy I want and that you won't be upset. But I've discovered that for me I want less quantity and more quality. Maybe that's just me, but it makes me happy."

Tami's mom went home shaking her head in disapproval, but at least she let Tami stay over. The big change at home that kept my mom from going over the edge was that I no longer cared about privacy. Tami, Peter and I made love, jacked off and hung out in my room without worrying about the fact that there was no door and without concerning ourselves about who was in the hall or looking in. Having gone that far, we lost our inhibitions completely. I had breakfast with Tami sitting on my lap, my dick nicely socketed inside her warm vagina. Having lost out on turning us boys into firecrackers for New Year's, Henk and my father competed to see which of them could make us shoot sperm farther across the kitchen. Tami made dinner super exciting one night by lurking under the table and sucking off first Peter and then me. My dad suggested I return the favor by spreading Tami across the table and eating her out. I did wait until my mom had cleared the table before following through and bringing her to a roaring orgasm.

* * *

"In springtime a young man's thoughts turn to love," my father joked.

"And in winter, summer and fall," my mother laughed.

I tried to ignore them and finished jacking off, spewing sperm across the room. My mom doesn't care if I clean up after myself or not. I guess she is just happy to see that her naked boy is as horny as ever. In spite of fucking Tami several times a day, I still need to bring myself off ten or twelve more times. Tami loves sex, there is no doubt about it -- but she still can't match my super sex drive. I don't discuss my worries that something is wrong with me; my mom would just give me her lecture again, "You're young. You could have five or ten girlfriends if you wanted."

Tami more or less lives at our house. Not only are we comfortable with one another, but our family is definitely more welcoming. Tami's mother has her own problems, which add to her resentment that her daughter is living what she considers to be a dogmatically chaste lifestyle. As for me, I represent the embodiment of her resentment -- I can barely show my face over there as it sets Tami and her mother at each other's throats in a knock down yelling match.

"I realize you've known him your whole life, but really, Tami, he's hardly the pinnacle of manhood. I hear your classmate Cheryl is getting an award for all the work she's done for the football team." Tami rolls her eyes at her mother's remarks. "She's lovers with nearly all of them, you know," her mother says admiringly. The argument is getting old, but her mom tries to inject new venom, "And that strange boy, Pablo -- he's no prize, either. Are you still in touch with him?"

"Peter, mom. His name is Peter. Why can't you get it right?"

That's the other problem, I really miss Peter.

I get a glass of milk and watch the last strands of cum drip off the end of my dick.

"Your father and I have to pick something up from the store. Do you want anything from Winn Dixie?"

"Nah, I'm okay," I respond. They go out and I stand at the door letting the spring air waft over my body. I'm appreciative enough to know it is a spectacular time of year to be naked. For a rare moment I don't feel like having sex. Tami has joined the swim team and has practice every day at school. My parents are out. Peter is in Germany. Bored, I wander into my father's workshop. Spools of silver wire are neatly stacked on shelves. Clamps and tools of different kinds are neatly hanging in their places. Small jars hold semi-precious stones. I step over to the workbench to see what my father's working on and am surprised to see Peter's cheery face smiling out from a photo. I pick it up and find another photo. In this one Peter is standing naked alongside a swimming pool. He is flanked on either side by younger boys, perhaps eight or nine years old. They are standing tanned and naked by the pool, their young dicks jutting out in front. I am mesmerized by the photo. It isn't just that I miss Peter. There is some magnetic connection between him and these younger boys. I start to put it down and realize that the photos must have come in a letter from Germany. The envelope with its foreign stamps is on the workbench and an unfolded piece of paper with handwritten scrawl. I ignore the tiny voice that says this letter might be private. I want to see if it says anything about Peter missing me.

"The rings work!" the letter reads. "Being around your son I am sure you have noticed this, but experiencing it firsthand with Peter since our return home has been phenomenal. He simply cannot get enough sexual satisfaction through his own solo activities. Fortunately I have been able to sign him up as a volunteer at our local pool. As you know, in Germany it is acceptable to swim nude anywhere. Peter has made great friends with many of the young boys at our community pool and introduced dozens -- or maybe even more -- to the fun of getting fucked.

Enclosed is the prototype female device we discussed. I eagerly awaiting word on your observations of its effects. Once we have that test underway we really have only one small problem to address before we can release the product commercially, namely, are its effects temporary and reversible, or permanent. I do not think there is a problem either way as long as we include proper disclosure in our licensing application and marketing.

Yours sincerely,
Henk

P.S. Peter and I hope to make the journey to Florida as soon as the school term is over."

Wow! Peter is coming to visit. I let out a few loud whoops in the otherwise empty workshop. I look at the photo with new interest, wondering if these are the boys Peter is fucking! I grin at how cute they all look and understand why I sensed something more than a casual connection. I look at the photo of Peter's smiling face and feel my always hard dick pulse even harder with attraction.

I put down the photo and read the letter again. What is this about rings and devices? I touch the twined bit of wire at the base of my dick. I'm so used to it I give it almost no thought. "He simply cannot get enough sexual satisfaction through his own solo activities." Does that mean what I think it means? It is such convoluted language. Why doesn't he just say jacking off?

Suddenly it hits me. This insatiable sexual appetite I've had since the beginning of the school year, all the girlfriends, jacking myself off all night and half the day, struggling to be satisfied with one girl -- all this has been foisted on me? I touch the ring of wire again. Is this the ring in the letter? It has to be. He mentions a big change in Peter since they got back. Peter got the ring right here in this house over Christmas break and then we all fucked each other in the living room as everyone's New Year's entertainment.

I drop the letter and rush out of the room. "Dad! Mom! Where are you? Why'd you do this to me? You fucking morons!!!" They aren't in the house. I kick over all the kitchen chairs and scream and yell. Finally in frustration and anger and exhaustion I collapse on the bottom sheet of my exposed bed in my doorless room. I'm naked. I've been naked my whole goddamn life. I'm naked and exposed and sexually starved. I feel humiliated and livid. Why can't I just have a normal life? I fall asleep and have horrible dreams where my skin is peeled off and I slide down a long white chute and fall naked and skinless into boiling hot soup and am eaten for dinner by a wonderfully loving family where the mother and father and sister and brother talk in charmingly civilized tones about their lovely day in the park.

"This is such a wonderful dinner," coos the girl, smiling at her mother.

"I'm so glad you like it dear, I made it just for you."

The father and little boy have equally insipid smiles as the girl lifts her spoon to her mouth and eats me alive.

* * *

My parents are not phased by my outrage or anger. They seem surprised when I say that my life has been one long experience of injustice. My dad doesn't argue when I claim that his experiment on me, and now on Peter, is unethical.

"It is a potentially amazing product," my father states, "and you are the perfect person to test it out. As your parents we have every right to choose how to raise you. Every parent has to decide if and when to strip their child. Parents have to decide whether to put their son on the pill or not. Parents have to decide how to deal with puberty and their child's emerging sexuality. We haven't done anything out of the ordinary. Parents across Florida make these decisions every day."

"But Dad! Henk's letter said you don't even know if these effects are permanent or not?"

"The same is true of the pills, honey," my mother responds. "The State of Florida says they're safe, but nobody has done a longterm study. Boys are growing up now who've been on them 24/7 for 10 or 15 years. Who knows what the result will be when they're forty years old?"

"So, you're saying that because those parents are doing something wrong, you can do it, too?"

"Actually, son, I believe that the invention I've created is safer than a pharmaceutical. The twined wires work directly with your body's own electrical system -- that's all. I'm proud that you've been the one to test this out. Some day tens of thousands of boys may be wearing something safer than taking drugs."

"What about the fact that I'm horny all the time!" I challenge.

My mother laughs. "All teenagers are horny. You should have seen me when I was your age. Anyway, you can't tell me you don't love all the sex!"

The conversation continues in this fashion until I can't stand it any longer. The weird thing is that I can't bring myself to pull the ring off my penis. Maybe my mother is right. I just don't know.

The next day Tami and her mother come over. I am instantly suspicious. Tami's mother looks all pleased, so something is definitely not right.

"We'll do it right in here," my dad gestures toward the living room. Tami sits nervously on the couch, looking across the room to where I stand at the doorway. I stay half hidden, afraid I'll set her mother off and start an argument.

The doorbell rings and my mother answers it. "Oh, hello Dr. Calder. Right this way."

The doctor is middle aged and pasty. I recognize him but hardly know him at all.

"Good afternoon, Tami." His voice sounds as pasty as he looks and my skin crawls. "I've been asked to come over and give you a quick exam. You've been to the doctor since you started your period, haven't you?"

Tami nods, her eyes slits of suspicion.

"Don't worry -- I won't be using one of those cold instruments. That's why your mom asked me to come over here. It is a lot more comfortable here than at the office, the stirrups and all that." I don't understand what he's talking about, but Tami nods understanding.

The doctor gets up, asks my mother if he can use the restroom. I hear water running and he comes back, snaps on latex gloves and asks Tami to lie back on the sofa. She opens her legs wide as if she already knows what to do. The doctor puts his hand up inside her vagina and for a moment I think he's going to get her off. One look at Tami's face and I know that isn't what's happening at all. She looks as if she is at the dentist, not having sex.

"Everything seems perfectly normal and healthy," Dr. Calder says. My father hands him something and he reaches back in. Tami grimaces.

"What are you doing to her?" I yell from the hallway.

Tami's mother turns sharply and looks at me as if I am some kind of vermin.

"Don't hurt her!" I scream, pushing my way past my mother and standing over the doctor.

"All done," the doctor says soothingly. "You won't notice a thing, Tami," the doctor says, looking at her. He gets up, snaps off the gloves, opens his bag and deposits them into a plastic container and shuts everything back up. "If you need my services again, don't hesitate to call."

The doctor shakes hands with my father, nods at Tami's mother and mine and steps out the door and is gone.

"What was that all about?" I ask suspiciously.

"That was none of your business," Tami's mother says archly. "In fact, I don't know why we didn't have this done at our own house." She turns deliberately away from me and faces my father. "Thank you very much. I have great hopes for this device."

Device? No!

"Tami, Dad, no! You didn't do it to her did you?" Tami's mother gets up and takes Tami forcibly by the arm and propels her to the door.

"Dad! Did Henk send you some kind of thing to put in Tami? Something like this but for girls?" I touch the wire around the base of my dick. "It isn't fair."

"We don't even know if it will have any effect," my dad replies. "If it does, I'm sure you'll be one of the first people to know."

* * *

Tami clutches my body, frustrated that I can't fuck her. My fingers twiddle her clit and stroke the inside of her dripping wet pussy, but she wants more of me inside her. Unfortunately my dad is adamant that we have to be in seat belts, greatly hampering my ability to be a better lover to my sex starved girlfriend. We're on I -10 making the journey to JAX to meet Henk and Peter's flight. I'm looking forward to seeing Peter, but Tami is preoccupied with sex. I was definitely one of the first people to know that the wires entwined around her cervix had an effect. In the past month and a half I haven't been allowed to forget that effect--not even for an hour. No longer do I have the time or energy to bring myself to orgasm. My still prodigious sex drive is entirely focused on keeping up with Tami. Whether it is the difference between girls and boys, or just Tami, my dad doesn't know. What we all have witnessed is that one boy cannot keep this girl satisfied. I am eager to see Peter, but I also need some help. Tami definitely needs at least two boyfriends.

"Please, I need the rest stop," Tami pleads. My dad shakes his head. At the last rest stop everyone assumed she needed to pee, but instead she dragged me out on the grass and fucked me right in front of a bus load of school kids on their way from Alabama to Disney World. I'm sure it was an eye opener for some kids new to the Florida scene!

This is my second visit to Jacksonville, or at least to the airport. I haven't really seen much else in the city, but my dad says this time we'll be getting to do a lot more. For Tami, this is her first time. When we step across the bridge from the parking garage and enter the terminal I smile as I watch her eyes go wide. Sunburned naked kids are everywhere, being dragged along by harried parents. There are teenage boys with huge pill-induced erections and tattoos covering large swaths of skin. Girls with big boobs, micro gem implants, shaved pubes and genital jewelry show off the money parents have spent on them. Last time I was here I learned that most of these are tourists. The teens working behind the counters at Starbucks and the cafes and stores are from Florida, like me. They look more tanned and I think they have less jewelry and not as many showy tattoos. While Tami is looking at all this and gawking at the mural of the SFF twins looming over the atrium, I'm interested in something more subtle. Now that my dad is in the genital jewelry business and Tami, Peter and I are all guinea pigs in an experiment, I want to see what other kids are wearing. I notice a lot of boys with rings and a lot of girls with glints of jewelry near their clits. I want to find out more.

We check the arrivals board. Having a little extra time, my dad orders us something to eat. While we're waiting I stand behind Tami as we look out at the aircraft on the tarmac. I enter her vagina from behind and slowly fuck her. She holds the hand rail and moans as I bring her closer and closer to orgasm. She clenches her muscles tight and I revel in the sensation of having my erection squeezed inside her hot body. She lets out a low moan and the climax moves in waves through her body. We stand there for a few more minutes and then join my dad at the table where he has been sitting and watching us.

In another half hour we go down to baggage claim. Henk and Peter are just coming down the escalator. Peter is naked. In another minute we're hugging them and everyone is talking at once.

"Did you fly on the plane naked?"

"No, they wouldn't let me, but I stripped down as soon as I got off."

"He still has his SFF chip from Florida."

"We better get that updated, wasn't it a tourist chip?"

"Yes, but . . . "

"It will be expired. It's only the resident ones that are good for a year at a time."

We step over to the nearest SFF booth. The sensor alarm goes off, but my dad quickly explains that we're here to pay and the attendant switches it off.

"Couldn't wait to get naked," the SFF representative teases Peter. He nods enthusiastically and grabs my hand and pulls it toward his dick. I note the twined wires around the base and how hard he is.

"Have you been wearing this ever since I last saw you?" I ask.

"Yes, I think it makes me feel sexy. All the time."

I nod. I wonder how much Peter knows.

We drive to the beach and Peter's sexiness is confirmed. Tami and Peter and I fuck on the beach, run into the waves, body surf, emerge and start all over again. I lick the salty water off Tami's nipples and twiddle her clit with my finger. She gets impatient and pulls me onto her to fuck. As soon as I cum she has Peter fuck her some more. I penetrate Peter's lovely backside while Tami waits impatiently, bringing herself to orgasm as she watches us.

"Hey kids, don't wear yourself out too much. We have some other activities to do today that will certainly require you to perform again."

A big difference between being on the Atlantic beach here and being in our home town is that there are plenty of naked kids. Nobody seems that interested that we're having sex. After a bit my dad and Henk get us to rinse off at the showers, shake off the extra water and clamber back into the car. While Tami is busy sucking Peter, I ask my dad to clear up some questions.

"How come you're inventing a new ring, dad. All these boys are already wearing rings. Have you seen them? Silver, gold, big, small, there are lots of them."

"Good questions; I'm glad you've been thinking. That shows the mind of a creative person. For boys pills and rings are both very popular. Pills just keep a boy hard. It's all about looks. They don't really do anything to get the boy excited. The first rings were just jewelry. They were big and heavy and just hung there. There was also a problem that if a ring was fitted a little too tight and the boy got a big erection, the ring could get stuck and cause a medical emergency. The newer rings have a small battery and ball bearings that adjust to keep the ring on no matter what -- and that also solved the engorgement problem that could send a boy to the ER. With that invention someone got the idea that the bearings could be put on a pulse pattern. That really transformed rings into something new. Now they're not just for looks. They can get a boy hard and even bring him to orgasm. For girls the hottest item in Florida is the clit ring. The new clit rings have vibrating technology, too, and that can get a girl to cumming. What my invention does," my dad paused. I knew he was going to brag a little, but that's okay, because I really do want to know why he made something new. "I'm not just interested in boys being hard and cumming; or in girls having orgasms all the time. My invention taps directly into the electrical impulses in your own body that make you sexually aroused. By being aroused all the time, but not cumming unless you choose to do something about it, it makes people get involved with one another. I think you've experienced that yourself. Even with the amount of arousal you experience you simply aren't satisfied with your own masturbation sessions."

I nod agreement.

"So, you've got to go out and get connected, have boyfriends and girlfriends, have real sex."

"We've even thought of a possible brand name," interjected Henk. "The Connexion."

"Because the arousal drives you to connect with other people, build relationships."

"Connex," I say.

My dad looks at Henk, "That's even better, you know. Connex. Let's run it past the PR folks this afternoon."

Does constant arousal really encourage relationships, I wonder? On the other hand, as far as I know Peter, Tami and I are the only people in the world wearing these things, and we're in one tight relationship. Peter throws his head back against the seat of the car and I know he's gushing sperm into Tami's pulsing throat.

"We could get the three of them pierced," my dad says to Henk. "put one of those barbells through Peter's penis? My son could have a ring through the end. I know Tami's mother would be thrilled if we got her a clit ring."

"We could get her laser stripped, too -- you know, permanent hair removal."

"You think her mom would mind us doing it without asking?"

"Maybe better not."

"Just for the record," my dad tells Henk, "if you're ever anywhere without me and you want to get something done to my son, you have my total trust."

"Hey," Henk responds, "same for Peter. Whatever you want to do, if you can't get hold of me."

Before I could absorb the possible consequences of this conversation, Henk added his own appraisal. "I'd love to see them get pierced, but from a marketing point of view I don't think it is the right thing. It would get confusing. We want total focus on our product alone.

Our next stop was not about focus. Dragon Tattoo and Body Arts Emporium III is the largest store I've ever been in other than a Super Walmart. We got lost among aisles of vibrators, cases upon cases of clit rings, every type of dildo anybody could imagine since the time of the Roman emperors. It goes on and on. Interspersed among the aisles and displays are work stations. A girl is lying back on a chair with her feet splayed out wide. Two women are working on a series of piercings up both sides of her labia, while two others work minute little sparkles into the skin of her breasts. A boy of perhaps six or seven is getting his penis tattooed. I cringe at the thought. A medieval sort of machine has the little guy's pecker stretched out so that the artist can get to the skin as easily as possible. An employee who sees the horror on my face assures me that they've used a local anesthetic and that the boy feels no pain. If that's so, why is he strapped into the chair, his ankles, wrists and chest all bound down with leather thongs. I look at him and he stares wild-eyed back at me. I imagine that the woman lounging comfortably in an armchair reading a magazine is his mother.

I find my dad who is carrying a plastic bag with the store logo. I try to peer into it but can't see anything. "Can we go?" I ask. "This place gives me the creeps."

"It's fascinating to find out what goes on in the big world, isn't it?" my dad comments, "but, sure. Find everyone else. We need to make it to our next appointment anyway and it's all the way across town."

"Is that the kind of place you'll be selling the rings?" Peter inquires as we negotiate Jacksonville's terrible highways. Everything is under construction and cars and trucks zoom up from behind us at speeds well above both the law and safety concerns. I note that my dad doesn't take his hands off the wheel or his eyes off the road for even a second.

Henk answers, "Yes, in those kind of places. But also in regular jewelry stores, tourist outlets, souvenir shops, supermarkets, and so on. We want our product to be seen as an amazing new technology, but something everyone can have. Sort of like the introduction of the original iPhone, iPad or the Kindle. Technology that is simple, works beautifully and is worth spending some money on."

"I can't believe you're going to sell this when you're not even sure if it works."

"What do you mean?" my father protests, his eyes still carefully glued to the road. "Look at you three. Don't tell me you're not enjoying yourselves."

"Does this thing just make you horny?" moaned Tami. I could tell she wanted to get fucked.

"Actually it does not." Henk turned around in his seat and looked at us as if he were about to start a lecture. "It can only tap into what your body already has as potential."

"You mean I'm a sex maniac?" I asked. It is certainly what I've felt like since the ring was put around my penis.

"Not a maniac, no," Henk continued, "but definitely a boy with a very strong sex drive. The device enervates the electrical connection between that capacity and your nervous system, allowing you to feel it on a more continual basis."

"What about who you are attracted to?" I insist. "Does it change that?"

"Attraction is still completely up to you, according to the mysterious mechanisms of the human which I do not think anyone can explain. The drive is there and the energizing of your nervous system, but how you use that drive is still up to you."

"The ring can't make you gay, or bisexual, or heterosexual, for example," my dad explains.

"You know," Tami forces herself to speak, although I know she'd rather be having sex right this moment, "that is a really old-fashioned way of thinking. I'm sorry, I don't mean to be disrespectful -- maybe it used to be different -- but most people our age don't categorize people that way. It's more about who you actually want to have sex with, or be romantic with, or fall in love with. I mean, on an individual level, not because the person is a boy or a girl or whatever."

"Like I had a lot of girlfriends, but when I discovered who I loved it wasn't because Peter is a boy and Tami is a girl."

"And I think lots of boys are super cute," Peter added, his eyes glowing with inner memories, "but I am totally in love with Tami, and with you, too," he jokes, punching me lightly on the arm.

"Sounds like you guys have it all figured out then." My father sounds pleased with himself for some reason.

"I just want to make sure this wire thing isn't making me have sex with someone I wouldn't want to have sex with otherwise," I insist.

"That I can't promise you," my dad says earnestly. "But truthfully, humans have been grappling with that question since long before there was Connex."

"Speaking of Connex," Henk said, "this is our exit." My dad gets into the right hand lane and we all visibly relax to be off the main highway. We navigate a few turns and find ourselves in a warehouse district of railway tracks, loading docks, and industrial looking buildings. "Time to pitch our concept and get these kids busy. I hope you've been saving up some of that sexiness!"

Tami moans appropriately, gyrates her hips and undoes her seat belt.

The inside of the building was in complete contrast to the rough, industrial exterior. A row of glassed-in rooms ran the entire length of one side of the building. The entire remaining space was open from end to end of what had once been a large warehouse and shipping company. The spacious room had been transformed into a gigantic photo studio, complete with elaborate adjustable lighting and clean white walls, ceiling and floor. Before entering we'd all had our feet washed and dried. Henk and my dad had to slip paper booties over their shoes to keep the floors clean. Most interesting to me was that all the edges where wall met floor were curved.

"This is so that no lines show in photographs," explains one of the photographers on staff. "When we take a photo in this room it looks like the people and objects are in endless white space with no horizon line."

To me that is way cool.

My dad and Henk disappear into a glass-walled office for a conference with some other people who work here. A little boy maybe six or seven years old peeks out from the doorway of the next office.

Peter waves at him, "Hi."

The boy giggles and disappears into the room, then looks out again. Peter is still there and the boy giggles again. The third time Peter says, "Hi, I'm Peter. Do yo work here?"

The boy thinks this is hysterical. He emerges two steps out of the room and looks Peter over. He''s wearing a green polo with some school insignia, khaki shorts with a belt, white socks and brand new sports shoes. My guess is he's in second grade. It's hard to be sure because he has a smallish build, but he doesn't act like a first grade kid, at least in my opinion.

At last the boy does more than giggle. "My name is Timmy. My mom works here, not me." He thinks this is so funny that he runs into the office and closes the door.

At this point my dad and Henk come out of their meeting. The photographer that first talked to me adjusts equipment with the help of two other guys who turn out to be photographers as well.

"Okay, kids, time to perform! Hopefully you're all a little sexually frustrated right now and eager to play. The photographers are going to be moving around to get good angles, but unless they ask for something specific you can just ignore them. Is that right?" My dad turns to the photographer who had explained about the walls.

"Absolutely. You all can just pretend that we're not here with all our fancy umbrellas and long lenses and light meters. If we have ideas for you we'll probably wait until later in the session when you're more comfortable before we make suggestions."

The three of us are pretty used to having sex in public by now, plus we're so horny it really doesn't matter. We dive right in. First order of business, of course, is that Tami is desperate to be fucked. It takes several rounds of Peter and I trading off before she's satisfied enough to try anything else. Guessing that our photographers will want some variety I tongue Tami's nipples while she's recovering from intercourse and then move on down and play my tongue on her still sensitive clit. Eventually I completely eat her out, sending her into new rounds of screaming orgasm. Of course this gets Peter started and he licks the length of my dick, my balls and swallows me whole. He pulls off, dragging lengths of sperm as he moves his mouth off of me.

The photographers start making suggestions. "Blond boy over here . . . "

"I'm Peter."

"Peter . . . it sure is hard to tell the two of you apart . . . would you touch your finger lightly to Tami's nipple."

Peter reaches out his arm, his finger just touching Tami's aroused pink nipple.

"Other Peter," we all laugh, "that was great when you put your tongue on her clit. Can we just get a close up of that again. Hold it still, and . . . perfect. Thank you."

It is really fun doing all this sexy stuff with photographers moving all around to get angle shots. The big room, the white all around and the lighting add to the excitement.

"That's a wrap, for the moment," says the photographer who seems to be in charge of the shoot. "I'm starving and these kids must be ravenous. I know sex makes me hungry!" The other guys laugh. I realize I am hungry!

"We're getting pizzas in, they should be here in a moment."

Tami, Peter and I follow the photographers into one of the glassed-in rooms. We throw ourselves into folding chairs around a large white table.

"That was great," exudes the head photographer. "We're getting some great shots. These will all be reviewed and edited and then go over to design. They'll create prototypes for the Connex ads." I perk up.

"Yes," Henk says. "They have approved your name for the product."

"Really?" The photographer says, looking at me, "You came up with the name? Really excellent." I beam and try not to blush, but can feel the heat rushing through my naked body.

"You're all terribly good looking and sexy, by the way," says one of the other photographers who has been working with us all morning. "We'll be bringing in some other models for a shoot next week, to add some more range and flavor to the overall look. But for today, we'd like to try out a few extras to spice things up."

"I could fuck Timmy," Peter says brightly. I'm a little shocked at his presumption.

The second photographer looks at the first one, "Timmy?"

"Angela's son. She said something about having taken him to a check-up this morning. She brought him to work with her. Anyway, it's an idea. We'll have to ask her."

Peter beams.

"There are a couple of models we could bring in this afternoon, Charles," the second photographer adds, "get them in the shots with the rest of the gang here."

They chat for a few moments about who might be available on short notice. A tall naked boy enters the building at one end and we watch him look around. The photographer named Charles opens the door to our room.

"Over here!"

The delivery boy brings over the pizzas and lays them out on the table for us. Charles hands him a ten and makes a proposal. "If you want to call your employer, we could use you here for a photo shoot in about half an hour. It'll only take an hour and a half after that. It's an easy hundred bucks. What do you say?"

"A hundred bucks?" The poor boy looks a little shocked.

"Cash," adds the second photographer.

The boy looks the rest of us over and back at Charles.

"Yeah, I know its unfortunate," Charles jokes, "but these are the sorry looking people you'll have to be in the shoot with. Oh, and you'll have to wear one of these." He holds up a twined wire ring just like the ones Peter and I are wearing.

"Um, can I just go out to my car? I've got to call the shop, but I really want to do it. A hundred bucks, right?"

"Sure thing. No rush. I don't know if you're sick of pizza, but you're welcome to have as much as you like."

The guy made a grimace at the pizza and dashed out.

"Okay, so we've got him." I was surprised how sure the photographers were about that. "We can probably get a couple of girls. Let's go talk to Angela." They get up and in a few minutes they are back. Timmy was a step behind his mom, looking at us curiously.

"Timmy," his mom said, leaning down to speak to her son. "Do you want to pose for the photographs? They want you to do stuff with the boy over there with the blond hair."

"Yeah, his name is Peter, mom."

"Yes, Peter. He would put his peepee in you and they would take pictures."

"You mean, fuck me in the butt like he was doing with the other boy?"

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"I could do that, mom. If Peter wants to fuck me then he can. And they can take pictures with the cameras, just like they were doing with all the big kids this morning."

"You're sure about this?"

"Uh, huh," Timmy nods his head vigorously.

"Okay," Angela says, standing upright and addressing the whole group. "I've just got to go get him stripped. We should be back within half an hour."

"That's fine," Charles says, "we've got plenty of time."

Peter looks quite pleased with himself. I give him an air kiss. "Well," he protests, "he is cute!"

"Man, you got spoiled. That photo your dad sent. Did you fuck every one of those boys?"

"What if I did? You jealous?"

I laugh and shak my head. "Nah, just giving you a hard time."

"Yeah, we had a lot of fun. Boys are real nice. Girls, too," he hastens to add, looking at Tami.

"What?" she says, looking over.

"Oh, nothing."

By the time we're done eating we've got the pizza guy, two other girls -- one with rich brown skin and the other a tall redhead and, of course, all of us. The guy has had a twined metal penis ring slipped over the base of his dick, just like Peter and I. By the time we're ready to roll I notice that he is sporting a strong upright erection.

Charles and the other two photographers set us up to do some still poses. There's nothing too sexual. The girls and boys line up facing the camera.

"Okay, I want all the girls to turn around, and hold, very nice. Okay, boys turn around." Shots are taken of our row of asses facing the camera. "And, girls turn around."

Poses are set of all girls, all boys, various pairings. They have the pizza guy push his erection down so it is facing straight out while one of the girls touches the glans with her thumb and two fingers. They pose me in a kiss with the dark creamy girl, our lips barely touching.

"Do you want to fuck her?" Charles asks. I'm not sure if he is serious, but I shake my head no rather adamantly and he doesn't push the issue.

At that point Angela returns. Timmy is completely naked and barefoot. He's a little more shy now, but still comes up and shows all of us the round bandaid behind his ear. "I got stripped," he informs us. I wonder if he realizes that he won't be wearing clothes again until he's an adult.

Peter doesn't' miss a beat. "Come sit on my lap, Timmy. I'm going to put my finger right up your butt here. It'll feel funny at first, but after you get used to it, I'll be able to put my penis inside you. It will feel really nice."

Timmy sits down and wiggles his butt around. Peter seems well practiced in the art of seduction. I wonder if it is hardwired into every little boy to get fucked.

While Peter sits on the sidelines prepping his little boy, the photographers surprise everyone by asking if one of the girls feels attracted to the pizza guy. The redhead says she wouldn't mind getting some action. Without further ado they go through a few minutes of foreplay and then are fucking each other like crazy. The photographers scurry around getting angle shots from all over the place. I have to say it is really hot watching them and I notice that Tami is getting roused up. I hold her tight against me, holding off on our own fuck session so I can watch the two of them climax. The guy comes hard inside her, slamming his dick against her body as she comes to her own roaring orgasm. No sooner are they done than Tami pushes me forcefully to the floor, straddles me and plunges her hot pussy down my shaft. She rides me up and down mercilessly, but I enjoy every minute of it. I should have guessed the ring is doing its thing to our unsuspecting pizza delivery boy because within ten minutes he is having sex with the other girl.

"Oh . . . my . . . god . . . " he gasps between thrusts, "I've never been so turned . . . .on . . . in . . . my . . . life!"

Just you wait, I think, if you keep that thing on you'll be delivering more than pizza at every stop!!!

After a few more poses, Charles brings out a large copper bowl of heated oil and we all sit back to watch the deflowering of Timmy. At the direction of the photographers we seat ourselves so that we won't interfere with filming. Angela comes out of her office with her own small camera.

"I'm so excited," she bubbles. "I'm going to film it so I can show it at Timmy's 7th birthday next month."

Timmy is eager enough. "Dereck in my class comes to school naked, but he hasn't had real sex. I asked him."

"Lie down right here," Peter instructs him, patting the floor.

"I'm not sure about the girls," Timmy muses thoughtfully, "But, none of the boys in my class have had real sex. I just know it," he concludes confidently.

Timmy quiets down as Peter begins to work the hot oil into his skin. From head to toe Peter massages the oil into the little boy's skin until he is glistening. I smile as I watch Timmy become aware of his own arousal. Peter rubs more oil into Timmy's belly and then works his penis between forefinger and thumb into it grows into a little, but nice firm erection. Timmy moans. Peter rolls him over and strokes oil hand over hand all along the boy's back and buttocks. His fingers come closer and closer to the rear opening and then start sliding in and out, the anus slick with warm oil. Suddenly Peter is up on his arms and slides his own erection straight into the boy. Timmy gasps but doesn't move. Peter leans down and whispers into Timmy's ear and we watch the boy visibly relax into the floor. Peter is back onto his arms and begins to propel himself in and out of the boy with long slick strokes. He brings himself up onto his toes and hands so that the only point of contact is penis and anus.

The photographers move stealthily around the boys to catch a good shot without blocking Angela's video or getting in the way of one another's views. Peter goes rigid and throws his head back. His back arches and he thrusts his pelvis forward impaling the boy on his spasming erection as he shoots hot sperm into the boy's backside. The ring keeps Peter hard even as he comes down from his climax, so he keeps thrusting Timmy, reaching under the boy to jack him to dry orgasm. The boy bucks as the feeling hits him but Peter goes at it again, bringing the boy to one orgasm after another. Peter then brings himself to another ejaculation and then gently lets himself down next to the smaller boy. I crawl over and coat Peter with oil any place that he may have missed contact with the fully oiled younger child. In the end they are both so slick that we could have slid the two of them across the floor like hockey pucks!

We sit back and watch the two boys doze off into post coital slumber, talking quietly among ourselves. After a while, first Peter and then Timmy rouses from sleep and they look shyly around at our little group.

Timmy is the first to speak. With a little smile he says, "I had real sex.'

"It was beautiful, so beautiful," his mother tells him.

He nods. "I love it."

The naked boys get up and slip on their oiled feet and fall back down. We all laugh. Charles brings out a towel and buffs each of them down in turn, leaving them nicely oiled, but not as drenched as before. "Okay, on your feet boys!"

We all exchange hugs and kisses, most especially with the newly sexed up Timmy. Angela promises to post the video where we can all view it. Henk comes out and offers Timmy a present.

"It's a ring, just like Peter's, and yours, and yours," he says, poking pizza boy and me. Henk slips it onto Timmy's flaccid dick, and pulls the wire tight.

"Enjoy, Timmy!"

"That's so sweet of you," Angela gushes.

"It's the Connex product, you know, that we've been doing the PR photo shoots for today. It'll be out on the market in a few months. I should just warn you though," he says looking at Angela and the pizza boy. "We don't know the effects of taking the ring off. So, you may just want to keep it on."

"Forever?" Timmy asks in exaggerated tones of awe.

"Maybe," Henk answers back seriously. The pizza guy nods.

"For you girls," Henk says, "Tami here is wearing the Connex as well, inside," he gestures in the vicinity of her upper vagina, uterus.

"I like that," giggles Angela, "Connex inside. LIke Intel inside."

Henk and my father glance at each other and I know the marketing concept hasn't escaped their quick wits.

"All you girls are welcome to have a ring, also, if you like. You'll have to get them put in by your OB or someone used to reaching inside and getting things placed correctly around the cervix."

• • •

"Let's get you kids fed, and then we have two surprises for you." My dad's eyes twinkle.

We stop by a rundown waterfront restaurant, but to my surprise the food is fresh and delicious. I stuff myself on fresh flounder, hushpuppies, mashed potatoes, cole slaw and blackberry cobbler for desert. I stretch my legs out and pull my arms back above my head and feel the full length of my body and erect penis. It feels really good to be alive! As the sun sets over the water we amble out and enjoy the breeze picking up, gulls crying overhead, the lights of boats glowing in the dusk.

"Back to the car, just briefly," my dad says encouragingly.

It is the evening for nondescript buildings, for sure. This time we park in front of a wooden building that in spite of an obviously fresh paint job looks the worse for the wear. It sags in all different directions as if it is simply tired of holding itself up. However, when we climb the stairs onto the wooden deck it is obvious that fresh planks have recently been put in place. The railings are solid. Another staircase takes us around a sharp corner and to a small landing on the second floor. Inside it is a different world. A large statue rests on peach-colored carpeting, a fountain trickles water in the corner, three candles burn in the opposite corner and two comfy-looking couches sit astride a large glass coffee table with exotic looking minerals, rocks and semi-precious stones arrayed over its surface.

A woman in soft folds of silk comes into the room.

"Welcome," she purrs, "this is Felicity."

I don't know if that's her name, the place, the circumstances -- I'm not entirely sure of the meaning of the word, but from the way she says it I think it is something positive.

"I'm so glad you could be here today. I'm going to guide each of you to the special person that's going to work on you this evening. Tami, is that right?" Tami nods. "I'm going to be working on you." Tami nods again. I'm sure she is as mystified as I am, although Felicity -- or whatever her name is -- invites trust even though she seems quite peculiar to me.

She takes Peter and I by the hand and we go down the carpeted hallway. She deposits each of us in a separate room. My room has silk draperies, a sculpture of someone dancing inside a circle and a massage table. "Just lie down on your belly and make yourself comfortable. Sami will be right with you."

I hear footsteps padding on the carpet and turn my head. A rather large man comes in, pulls a curtain shut and takes off the one cloth that he has wrapped around his body. I look at his pierced penis with interest.

"Yeah," he nods, following my gaze. "Just got that done. Didn't hurt half as bad as I thought it would. I'm Sami. Just relax. I'm going to give you one of the best massages of your life."

He isn't kidding. He dips his hands into a bowl of oil and slathers it across my back. It is warm and tingly and then his hands start doing magic. He moves slow and fast, like serpents slithering over and around my muscles and limbs. He rocks me so gently I feel he isn't even moving, but suddenly a tension is gone from my neck that I didn't even know was there. He bends and unbends my leg and my hip feels so just right that I think I must have been in the wrong position half my life. He cracks each toe and kneads the inside hollow of the sole of my foot. My body begins to feel like my own again -- and I didn't even know it had gotten away from me! Every once in a while he'll make a quiet remark. I can't tell if he's speaking to me or to himself.

"Gotta let that one go. . . . Rock it gently. . . . Breathe and down." On that last remark he breathes in and then lets his weight come down gently onto my lower back. He does it again, and again, and I realize I am breathing in and then out as he lowers himself. Extra amounts of oil are slathered onto my body and then he begins working my anus. He makes it seem as if it is as obvious and natural a place to massage as my foot or arm or chest. It hits me: I've been naked my whole life, but somewhere along the way I started separating my body into parts. My face is "me," my foot is somewhere way down there, my heart is mysterious, my penis is my plaything and my anus has until recently been far away and hidden. There are the parts it's okay to touch and have touched in public, but even though I'm a stripped Florida boy I've been reluctant to use my right to touch my wiener. Even naked, with this hard-on forced on me, and had sex in front of other people, and a bedroom open to any passing gaze, it is only in this quiet little room, with the most privacy I've had in a long time, with this guy I don't even know, that I'm suddenly aware of how nice it would feel to see my whole body as "me" and none of it anything to be ashamed of. I see with my eye, I pee with my penis, I grab your penis with my butt. I laugh out loud.

Sami doesn't break movement for a even a second, letting my laugh settle nicely into the room. He picks an item off a side table and gently probes deep into my anus with something smooth and wonderful. He fucks me with this object, but the focus is on letting me feel the smooth tissue inside, the tingle on my prostate, the lusciousness of the feeling, as a piece of that whole body I want to have as unashamed "me." I'm near to coming when he pulls the dildo out, slips something small and slender into my anal opening where it nestles comfortably inside. He turns me over. With long sweeps of oiled hands up and down my body he includes my penis. My whole body cums. I'm not kidding. Usually it's just my dick, but waves of orgasm roll through all my limbs and muscles and organs and out my toes and fingers and the top of my head and the end of my penis. If you took a picture of the energy, I would be shooting rays out every extended bit of me. I half-slumber in a warm ocean of oil until my dad rouses me.

Half asleep I let him guide me down the stairs in the darkness to the back of the car where the hatchback has been raised. I'm vaguely aware that the seats have been flattened. I feel Peter's skin rub against mine as I lay down on my back. My father straps my feet in, someone who must be Henk pulls my arms over my head and straps my wrists firmly in place. I mumble a question but a large ball like the size of an orange is stuffed into my mouth so that I can't close my jaw or make a sound. Somehow this, too, is strapped into place. I'm so relaxed I don't panic, but I am definitely stretched and bound tightly--I can't move. I feel Tami's body rub alongside mine as she is placed next to me. I'm pretty sure she is bound and gagged as well. The hatchback door closes with a bang. The front doors open and close and the car starts up. I feel the vehicle swing out of the lot and through the streets and then we are on the highway. The wheels hum loudly on the road and I can feel the rush of cars and trucks alongside us. I feel Peter's body jolt alongside mine and a second later my insides erupt. Whatever is nestled in my ass takes off. Within thirty seconds my penis spews sperm hot, then clammy cold across my torso. I shoot again and again. The vibrations mellow and then start up again. I scream into my gag, mouth held wide and unable to make a sound. I'm aware of Tami to one side and Peter to the other, electric vibration pulsing through their bodies. I am sure they too are screaming at the top of their lungs, silently. We roll through the night for what seems hours upon hours across North Florida.

I try to drift off to sleep, but the sensations wracking my body are too intense. The car stops, but from the bright lights I am sure it is only a gas station. Finally we are off the highway, the noise of traffic dies down, it is dark outside. We pull to a stop and the back is opening. I feel Tami being pulled out of the car. Voices murmur and there is a door opening, voices and the door closes. We must be dropping Tami at her house. Then we are home. Peter and I are unbound and carried into the house. I'm guided to the bathroom and let loose a stream of urine, noisy into the bowl, and then laid down naked in my bed, unbound but still gagged. Peter nestles up against me and we are fast asleep.

* * *

We're gathered in anticipation in my dad's studio. He has a new large-screen monitor hooked up to his laptop, but that's not the major excitement. Peter and Henk have to return to Germany tomorrow and just in time the proofs have arrived from the advertising agency. The photo agency promises to release the raw footage from our shoot, but only after all the ads have been approved. Less messy that way, they claim.

Anyway, Tami's snuggled next to me on one side. Peter's next to her. The three of us have been sleeping together at my house every night since her mother was arrested for dealing drugs a week ago.

"I never thought she would get caught," Tami said at the time.

"You mean you knew?" I asked incredulously. Her mom seemed annoying, but very normal in a mom sort of way, hating me for being Tami's boyfriend, trying to get her to go out with more guys, bugging her to buy jewelry. "You don't even have a clit ring, what's with that?" she would complain. Obviously Tami has been upset, but the silver lining is that she's living with us, at least for the time being.

My dad logs in to his computer and searches for a file. "I'm still new to this," he says. "There's a way to show any file as a slideshow." He fumbles around with the keyboard and gets frustrated. I reach over and tap a couple of keys, "Okay, just select the pictures in the file and you're ready to go." He tweaks my dick.

The first photo shows up, fingers reaching toward a pink nipple. "Mine," says Peter.

"Mine!" insists Tami. We laugh. It is indeed Peter's fingers reaching for the tip of Tami's boob. To the side is the word Connex. It has been turned into a logo, the two Ns form an angular wave, the x has an interesting shape to it. Above the word is a circle made of two lines twining around one another -- a very stylized version of the ring that nestles at the base of my dick.

The next photo is a close up of a girl from bellybutton to pubic bone. In the space in between is the logo and the word "inside."

"Connex inside," Tami reads.

"Like the slogan 'Intel inside,'" Henk says.

I smile, pleased that I was right about Henk and my dad noticing that savvy bit of promo.

"Dad, about the rings . . . " I'm not sure how to ask the question. "Did you ever figure out if they could be removed safely?"

"We're selling them with a standard warning," Henk replies. "The ring serves as a sexual response enhancer. The ring should be placed securely at the base of the penis for boys and in all known cases brings about constant erection and arousal. Girls should have the ring placed securely around the cervix by a trained healthcare professional; in all known cases the ring brings about constant female arousal. Due to individual response differences Connex makes no warranty as to specific levels of arousal and response. Connex is not a medical device and is intended solely for entertainment purposes. The application of the device should be considered permanent as it is not known what physical consequences may be engendered by removal."

Henk recites as if he has memorized the phrase carefully. He smiles when he is done, pleased that he got it correct.

"Very good," my dad says, looking at Henk.

"I spent an hour last night," Henk replies.

I think about all the people I know who are now permanently aroused "for entertainment purposes" and that were never advised that the device is permanent: myself, Peter, Tami, a pizza delivery guy, Timmy, and maybe some of the girls who modeled that day.

As if listening in on my thoughts, Peter pipes up, "I also put a ring on each of the boys I fucked in Germany."

The photos slowly fade one into the other. They are all shot against bright white, the coloration a rose-pink. Everything is light and airy. The close-up glans of a penis, lips barely touching in a kiss, my tongue on Tami's clit, a long strand of sperm stretching across the screen between my penis and Peter's lips, a row of girls seen from behind alternating with us boys facing front. I laugh at that one, it looks funny.

There's a long dark dick we don't recognize horizontal across the screen with someone else's fingers touching the glans. Another row, this time all girls with the Connex Inside slogan across them. Peter's dick halfway inside Timmy's cute little butt. A close up of a much bigger dick than mine about to penetrate a smoothly shaved vagina -- I think it's the pizza guy fucking the cream-colored girl.

My brother cranes his neck, trying to get a good look at the action. "Man, I sure missed a good show," he complains.

"That's why you're not stripped," my sister retorts, "you've got a dirty mind."

"There's one I think you'll like," my dad says. The screen comes up to show Peter and I hip to hip, arms around one another. The photo has been cropped so that only the tips of our upwardly erect penises show. It is the only hint to let the viewer know for sure that we're naked and not just shirtless. I look at us, rose colored twins, looking straight at the camera. Then it hits me. The look of these photos. They're designed to mimic the style of the SFF twins. It's the same color, same white background, same languid sexual androgyny despite the close-ups of things so particularly gender-related as penises, nipples, clits, boobs . . . and the Connex logo always on the side or across the belly of a girl, just above her pubic bone. It is an excellent ad campaign. I can imagine these on huge billboards, splayed across walls in malls, filling people's cell phone screens, plastered on the sides of buses.

"I like it," I say simply.

"Your mom and I thought we might get that enlarged as wallpaper for one whole side of your room," my dad says.

"Can I have the one of me tonguing Tami's clit on the other wall?"

"Sure, of course."

"Thanks to all of you for helping make this possible," Henk says. "Testing the rings, being in the photos."

"Well," my dad huffs, "if Connex takes off your futures are set."

Tami, Peter and I look at one another.

"I mean, this product will make enough money that we will be able to strip the three of you for life." My dad looks at me, "Of course, in your case, there was no question. You think we were ever going to let you wear clothes?" He laughs, but I know it is true. I've always been the naked one.

* * *

THE END

(The End)