Antelope Patrol - Part 3

Category: Male-Male (MM)
Submitted by: John N. Age: 53 - then 13-14 Gender: Male

The last meeting of the Antelope Patrol's jerk off club was at the Fields' house. We got caught, or at least almost did. It was close enough for us to get scared. The meeting at the Fields' house was the core five members of the patrol: Dave and Don Fields, Barry, Stookey and me, plus Curt, a new member of our patrol. Curt was older, a grade ahead of me, and had transferred from another patrol. Curt had short red hair, freckles and a swimmer's build, even at fifteen. My height, Curt had an easy laugh and a quick wit. Curt did it backwards, joining our jerk off club a few months before he actually joined the Antelope Patrol, so for his initiation into the patrol, we made a naked Curt stand and jerk off while we all watched, dressed. In Antelope Patrol tradition, we also made him catch his sperm in his hand and then lick it clean. (We always called it sperm or spunk, never semen or cum. While I have used them here, we never used the word "cum" or any of its variations. I didn't know what "cum" meant until much later. An orgasm was a "blast" in our Boy Scout world. Plus it was a dick, not a cock, and certainly not a penis. What a funny word to a thirteen year old. We sat on our butts, never our asses, and we had nuts, not balls. I've tried to keep these and other verbal conventions from the time in here.) I loved watching Curt jack off. One, he was very good at it. That's a strange thing to say but it's true, though even if he'd been a klutz, I probably would have watched. While I'd never seen a boy with reddish-blond pubic hair before, it was Curt's long, bright pink dick that was his best feature. Curt had easily the longest dick in our club, topping anybody else's by over an inch. In fact, Curt's dick was 7 3/8" long. We measured it...multiple times. I wasn't the only patrol member who liked to watch Curt beat off.

Curt joined the club through Mike, the boy Barry initiated on the mountain. While you already know Mike, you really don't know Mike. I put up with him because he was Barry's friend. My opinion of Mike? He was a bit of a jerk. At least he was a jerk to me. Mike was a jock. Except for Barry, jocks and I didn't get along. Curt was also a jock, although both being jocks wasn't what made Mike and Curt such good buddies. Barry had discovered -- more accurately Mike had admitted to him -- that Mike and Curt jacked off together. That's why Barry was so willing to bring his friend Mike into our club. He knew he'd like it. As a result, though, it was only a matter of time until Curt got involved, too.

That happened at a sleepover at Mike's, one night on Christmas break. My mom drove Barry and me to Mike's house after dinner. Curt was already there. While I also knew Curt from Scouts, I didn't know him that well. He moved to the area, into a neighboring town, the previous summer. He was already a Star Scout when he joined our troop, initially a member of another patrol before switching to ours. He'd be the one in our group that would make Eagle. He joined our troop rather than one in his town because his family thought getting his Eagle would be easier in our troop. They were probably right. We were bigger, longer established and had excellent Scout leaders.

After Barry and I were introduced to Mike's parents, we immediately went to the basement, where we were to sleep. The family had a rec room with a foldout couch. There were also air mattresses and sleeping bags. We watched TV. Everybody in our town received only four channels but I remember we watched Star Trek that night on NBC. Star Trek was brand new. I was already a Trekkie, ever since I'd watched the first episode broadcast the previous September, and I'm sure I insisted we watch Star Trek. The episode that night was "Shore Leave", where the crew is granted their subconscious wishes on a paradise planet. The other guys liked it, too. What's there for a young teenage boy not to like about Star Trek? "Shore Leave" has pretty girls, one with a torn blouse, a long Captain Kirk fight, mysterious aliens and Alice In Wonderland. Since that night, I, too, have always liked this episode, but not for the same reason as other Trekkies. (Still a Trekkie, I know of a website that pins down the date of this sleepover. It was Thursday, December 29, 1966. Don't be too impressed. I'm such a Trekkie I've done this research for maybe a half a dozen important Trek events in my life. Don't worry. I don't go to conventions and I don't dress up as a Klingon. Wait a minute. What's going on here? I'm writing a true tale about being thirteen and masturbating with other boys and I'm worried that you think I get off being a Borg. Now that's crazy.) In addition to watching Star Trek, Mike had a slot car set and we played with that a lot. They were still pretty new and cool. We played some ping pong. The four of us also wrestled. Once, in a moment of temporary advantage, I tried to give Curt a red headed nuggie. He flipped me easily, grabbing onto my nuts when I was down just to show me who ruled. Mike's mom checked up on us every now and then, bringing us Cokes and snacks. Mike's little sister came down for a while. We ignored her. She just sat in the corner and watched TV until it was her bedtime.

At one point, Mike's mom came into the basement and told us to keep it down. Mike's mom and dad were going to bed. No more noise, which meant no more ping pong and no more yelling and screaming while crashing slot cars. She made Mike promise we'd have lights out at midnight. As if that was going to happen. We watched TV until 11:00 when the news came on. By that time things had quieted down around the house. Mike asked Barry and me if we wanted to see some nudie magazines. We said of course. We all knew why we were there. Just as Barry told us about Mike and Curt, Mike told Curt about the club he'd joined. I probably had a boner already. If not, I did shortly. Mike went into a storage area and brought out a box of skin magazines. They were passed down from Mike's older brother when he'd left home. Mostly Playboys in the box, there were also a couple of nudist life magazines, with nude people posing on the beach and around pools. These were cool because they showed everything, women and men, where in Playboy, pubes and pussy didn't exist. The nudist mags were also neat because they had a few pictures of naked kids our age, boys and girls, again just facing the camera like it was everyday. Maybe for them it was. These mags were the only place I was ever going to see a young nude teenage girl. That was for damn sure. Mike and Curt obviously knew the contents of this box inside and out but for Barry and me, there were many eye popping pictures. After only a few minutes of reading these magazines, Mike was bored. He stood up, took off his shirt and asked us if we were going to spend all night just looking at pictures? Barry and I also stood up. So did Curt. I remember asking - right here? - to which Mike came back, no, your house. He meant it as a joke but it didn't come out that way. We all started to strip. It was quiet except for the sound of the TV. We got to that awkward point were everyone is just in their underwear (we all wore boxers except for Curt who had on red low rise Jockey briefs, very daring for the day). Each of us took extra time folding and stacking our clothes. We stood around for a few moments more. I couldn't help but notice we all had hard-ons. I was also very impressed with Curt's body. It was perfect, wide at the top and thin at the waist, built through his years as a competitive swimmer. Curt had fine muscle definition in his chest, shoulders, back and arms. His thighs and calves were also tight. I later found out he water skied a lot. I would have killed for a body like Curt's. Soon, I'd forgotten about his body. He had something better to show us. To get everyone to remove their underwear, Mike got our attention and then did a countdown to three, at which point we all took off our shorts. Again, we stood around and stared. My eyes landed on Curt's big dick. Holy crap. Barry hadn't told me about this. It turned out, Barry didn't know, either. I made some dumb comment, at which point Curt turned and walked across the room to a recliner in the corner. He sat down in it cross legged, but with his knees up in the air and his arms wrapped around his legs. I returned to the couch. Mike was also on the couch, to my left. Barry ended up on the carpeted floor. Johnny Carson was on TV. We all just sat there for a bit, watching Johnny's monolog. From the magazine box, Mike pulled out a half roll of toilet paper and threw it to Curt. Curt tore some off and threw it back to me. A trail of TP followed the roll. I gathered up the loose TP and instead of tearing it off, I left it attached. I took the roll and threw it up in the air and over to Mike next to me on the couch, just three feet away. A contrail of TP arched behind the roll. Everyone laughed. Mike then threw the roll to Barry. Because the trailing TP was still attached, it died in flight before it got to him. Barry crawled over, grabbed the roll, and let TP unreel across the floor as he crawled back to where he'd been sitting. Putting the roll on his finger, Barry then spun it, reeling off a bunch more TP for slack. He threw the roll over to Curt. TP trailed behind. Now we all really laughed. Everyone got the game. To cries of sshhh and keep it down, we proceeded to TP Mike's rec room, hooting it up as quietly as we could. This didn't last long as there wasn't that much TP on the roll, but there was still enough that when we were done, for the rest of the night, if you wanted some TP, there was always some within arm's reach. I had lost my boner but I knew it was only a Playboy magazine away. We all went back to the mags but pretty soon we put them down as unnecessary anymore. I don't remember much about this jerk off session. Functional might be the best word to describe it. Afterwards, there were wadded up balls of TP around, too.

We watched The Tonight Show until there was a commercial. At that point, Curt got up and announced he had to pee. As I had to pee, too, I decided to be bold. I also stood up and said, swordfight? Curt paused, laughed, and said, sure. I followed his strong swimmer's back into the bathroom. Curt's back seemed more orange than pink with all the freckles. The basement bathroom was small, just a toilet and a sink, and we were butt cheek to butt cheek as we stood over the toilet. We both proceeded to pee, fighting with our streams, playing and giggling. On the way back to the rec room I asked Curt how long his dick was. Again he laughed and he said over 7" the last time he'd measured it. Back in the rec room, Curt walked over to an end table next to the couch. Opening a drawer, he pulled out a ruler and told Mike I'd asked how long his dick was. Measuring Curt's dick was obviously something they did often. But then, I measured mine a lot, too. I just didn't have anywhere near as much of a dick to measure. Curt sat down right on the wooden coffee table in front of the couch and started playing with his pud. I'm sure I rubbed mine, too. When Curt was hard, he rose to his feet. His dick stood more out than up. Except for a slight bend upward, it was straight. His strawberry blond pubes were spare, with little on his nuts, and this somehow this made his dick seem even larger. His dick wasn't big; in fact it was surprisingly thin, certainly no thicker than mine. It was just long and so pink, a couple of shades more pink than any dick I'd ever seen. His nuts looked huge, as bare and pink as they were. He kept stroking his dick as he held the ruler out over it, the ruler's end jammed into his pubes. We all gathered around close. 7 3/8" A new record for Curt, and a clear sign his dick was still growing. He was obviously proud. So would I be. Cock Of The Walk, Curt didn't mind Barry and me pausing there to stare at his crotch. He even offered to let us touch his boner. We both declined. A good showman, Curt instead spread his feet and pulled his dick slowly around in a circle, going around at least twice, showing his dick and nuts off to their best advantage. When he finished, I stood up and looked him in the eye for a change. I shook his hand, congratulating him. Only later did I realize I should have shaken his dick.

I knew what was going to happen next. I didn't want Curt back in that recliner so I moved across the room to it, sat down, got comfortable and slowly started stroking my hard-on. After turning off the TV, Curt looked around and ended up sitting on the floor right where he stood. Barry again chose the floor. I noticed he, too, had repositioned himself so he could watch Curt. Mike stayed on the couch but turned to lie on it rather than sit. He'd seen The Curt Show before. Placing a pillow against the TV console, Curt then lay back on the carpet and started beating his boner. Perfect. I could view him easily. Curt's dick was so long that when he wrapped his fist around it, half of it still stuck out. I discovered Curt would play with his nuts with his left hand while he jacked off with his right. Occasionally he would switch hands for a few seconds and not miss a beat. Curt seemed more wrapped up in this jack than the one earlier in the evening. Maybe his longer dick had inspired him. Or maybe it was an appreciative audience in Barry and me. Or maybe I'm over-examining things. We all seemed more into our jerking this time as we all took longer to cum. This session lasted for many minutes as we jacked both slow and fast, enjoying ourselves. I had to work to not get caught up in the rhythm of Mike's moaning and to beat my dick at my speed, not his. Eventually we all blasted in a ragged volley, cumming at our own pace. I'm glad I had a front row view of Curt's orgasm. The guy was on tonight. He wasn't just jerking off. He was vibrating. Curt was a blur. Sliding away from the TV, he started rocking, doing mini sit-ups with his beat. He was humming. Not figuratively. He was actually humming, really more of a moaning hum, varying his volume with the intensity of his jacking. And his motion was amazing. His right hand was dancing. Turn, spin, dip, lift, embrace. All the dance moves were there. As Curt got close, his left hand flew from his chin to his nuts and stopped at all points in-between. His feet moved up to his butt, jutting his knees in the air. Even his toes were jumping. These were diversions, though, as the action remained centered on Curt's pink dick. The motion of his right hand suddenly slowing down, Curt arched up on his shoulders, his butt rising from the carpet and he loudly groaned twice, uhh...augghhhh! With his dick a foot off the ground, spunk shot down over his chest. Curt lowered his butt as he kept yanking his dick. He breathed in short moans. Now beginning to pool on his stomach, cum was still slowly flowing out of Curt, white on pink from the neck down. A long moan and one final, deliberate pull of his pud meant Curt was done. The room was silent as even Mike had stopped grunting. Curt's knees and hands dropped to the floor and his head rolled to the side so that we made eye contact. Curt's tongue was out and he had a big smile. On me that would have looked goofy. On Curt it was Nirvana. I was in awe. Not only did this new guy have a beautiful, athletic body, and the longest dick I'd ever seen, he could even blast better than me. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Later, after my perfectly satisfactory but otherwise now pitiful blast, I showed Curt "finger lickin' good". He winced, then smiled and chuckled. We all came a couple of more times that night, although there was not another blast anything like Curt's, including from Curt. At the end of one of those sessions, as I again licked my fingers clean, Curt licked off his fingers, too. A showman recognizes a good trick when he sees it. Eventually we cleaned up the rec room and went to bed. The next day, our fun was only mentioned once. Coming up behind me on the stairs as we headed for breakfast, Curt whispered, swordfight? I laughed.

Curt was introduced to the rest of the Antelope Patrol's jerk off club on our next camping trip. I don't remember anything about that meeting except Curt showing off. The patrol hiked to a place Stookey had found, up a side canyon and behind some rocks. It was definitely secluded and we could easily hear anybody coming up the canyon. On the hike up, I gave Curt a pocket tape measure I always carried in my pack. I told him to keep it. He laughed, said thanks and hit me hard in the shoulder. Curt was another jock I liked.

By the time of the pool party at the Fields' house, Curt was a full member of both the club and the patrol. We were supposed to have weekly patrol meetings, and this week's meeting was to be a pool party at the Fields' house. The Fields had a swimming pool and the Antelope Patrol was all for that. We liked to swim. Fun things happened when we swam. Also home that day was another Fields, youngest brother Robby, who was nine or ten at the time. Robby looked just like Don, only smaller and even thinner, his youth accented by a whiny child's voice. We started out swimming in the pool normally, being good boys and proper. Curt showed us some fancy dives. Mrs. Fields got ready to run errands, leaving eldest brother Dave to keep us in line. Little did she know. Dave tried hard to get her to take Robby with her. She wouldn't hear of it. Robby stayed with us. Still, after she left, the fun started. I can remember Don showing us how he could dive into the pool and lose his trunks. Barry was easily thin enough to pull off the same trick. Don and Barry kept adjusting things and diving in until they got they got their suits to come all the way off their feet. Curt was more direct. He got on the diving board and stripped off his suit, throwing it to the side. Curt proceeded to see how high he could jump up and down on the springy board. He easily flew three feet into the air. It seemed like his soft dick went up four. Curt did a cannonball for his dive. I hoped that hadn't hurt. We roughhoused in the pool, dunking and goosing each other, trying to get each other naked. I remember us ganging up on Stookey, stripping him of his suit. At some point, I was stripped of mine, too. Soon, all seven of us, including young Robby Fields, were naked in the pool. One of the pair of swimming trunks had been thrown onto the roof of the house although the Fields brothers said they'd have no trouble getting them down. Besides a game of horse diving, where you had to duplicate another boy's dive off the diving board, there was more grab-ass, aka naked-boy-water-wrestling. We tried to avoid Curt as he would latch onto any loose, floating body part. It was tough since he swam like a dolphin. After a while, we got out of the pool, grabbed towels and went into the Fields brothers' bedroom.

The three brothers shared a huge bedroom just off the pool. Dave and Don tried to keep Robby Fields out, saying he was too young to join us, but Robby threatened to tell mom, yelling though the closed door he knew what we were doing. We hadn't started doing anything yet, but this was the day I found out how open the Fields brothers were with each other about masturbation so Robby could guess what we were going to do. Plus there is no better threat to a kid than I'm going to tell mom. Dave let Robby in the bedroom on strict orders he did exactly what he, Dave, told him to do. That seemed weird to me at the time. Here was this prepubescent naked boy, hanging around while we prepared to jerk off. In the safety of his own bedroom, Antelope Patrol Leader Dave Fields quickly took control and told the patrol what we were all going to do, not just Robby. First, he had Robby lay down on the floor, face up. Then Dave told us to all kneel around Robby. He wanted us in close, close enough that it was uncomfortable. He kept having us squeeze in until I ended up between Robby's legs, right over his hairless little boy dick and nuts, with Dave straight across from me, above Robby's head. Don and Curt were beside Robby and to my right. Stookey and Barry were on the other side of Robby. Our knees touched Robby. Dave said if Robby wanted a show, he'd give him a show. For more than a few seconds, I thought Dave was going to have us jerk off onto Robby. I didn't like that idea at all. Then Dave told Robby that he could watch us but that it would be from his bed, which was on the other side of the room. When Robby objected, Dave told Robby there were only two places he could be in this room, either on his bed or where he was right that moment. Dave had to repeat it a couple of times, elaborating on what would happen to Robby if he stayed where he was, but eventually, looking up into Dave's dick, Robby figured it out. He started to get up and go to his bed. Dave stopped him and said, no, that he had promised Robby a show. Dave had Robby lie back down. Grabbing his own, Dave ordered the Antelope Patrol to play with our dicks and get boners. Robby would get to see what he might look like some day. We did what our leader said. Robby seemed to enjoy his private show as we each got a hard-on. Heck, I enjoyed the show. We were much closer to each other than we would be even in a dark tent, and this was in a brightly lit room in the middle of the afternoon. We were so close, you had to stare, not that staring was considered bad in our club. It was pretty much encouraged. I looked at Curt's hard pink trophy, bobbing in the air, almost straight out today, its tip only inches away from mine, his strawberry pubes still glistening with water from the pool. Yikes, what a dick. But it was the total package that made Curt so attractive. His red hair. The quick smile. Grace in motion. About a million freckles. With a body defined by years of swimming, you could only called Curt a stud, even at fifteen. Except for Dave, all the rest of us had flat chests. Not Curt with those swimmer's pecs. We didn't call it a six pack back then but Curt definitely had one. Curt had muscle tone. Dave didn't have that. Cute, red, agile, pink, muscular and hung, Curt was my Adonis. I looked across to Dave. While Curt's body was developed in the pool, Dave was just lucky. Nearly sixteen (Dave had his driver's learning permit), he no longer had the body of a boy. He was growing up to being a striking adult. But it wasn't only Dave's body that had grown up. It seemed like Dave's dick had gotten fatter over the past year. His pubic hair had definitely spread to his legs, which were now quite hairy. Being a hot day, I could even see his nuts, hanging low. I went back to Dave's boner. With the combination of its thickness and length, in some respects it was even more impressive than Curt's. Dave had a man's dick. Next I checked out Barry. Still a bit of a string bean, Barry's body was unremarkable. Barry's dick remained thinner than Dave's but maybe now beat him in length. With Barry's thick pubic hair, the two boys' crotches had much in common. The difference was Barry's package was on the body of a close friend and I now knew that territory as well as any other part of him. Maybe better. Over the past few months, Don's pubes had filled in and his dick had grown so that he was on his way to also matching Dave. Don's dick, framed by the increased hair, looked big on his skinny frame. But nobody had changed as much as Stookey. Sublime little Stookey. I smiled at Stookey, a grin on his face answering me while he fingered his meat. His dick was now significantly longer and fatter. While it would certainly grow more, Stookey's dick had completed the transition from a child's to one owned by a young adult. Still, it was Stookey's pubic hair that had improved the most. It now covered his crotch, and if I could see them, his nuts. He no longer looked like a little boy. I appreciated Stookey's grown up dick, jumping and twitching. My dick? It, too, had grown but I hadn't gotten much more hair. It's hard to say how I felt about it. It was just my dick. It could be better but it worked. The six of us kneeling there over Robby, that's a mental image I still carry with me: Six hard teenage dicks sticking out from six friends, waving over another boy. After a bit, a now bug-eyed Robby got off his back to check out Curt's dick. Understandable, but Robby bumped into boners as he got up; there was really no room. There were whoas and watch outs as the circle broke down. It didn't matter. Robby never made it to Curt. Dave was done with Robby. Dave ordered him to his bed. Robby complained. In one swift move, Dave picked up Robby and carried him over to his bed. By the words he used while taking Robby over there, everyone, the five of us and Robby, all knew Dave really meant it. Either stay on your bed or be covered with the spunk from six guys. It's your choice, kid. I was also getting the impression that Robby knew a whole lot more about jerking off than the average nine or ten year old.

Once Robby was safely on his bed, Dave came back and sat on the floor with us. Dave pulled out a Frisbee and put it on the floor upside down, open like a bowl. He said today's game was to blast into the Frisbee. And the guy who blasted last? Dave had an idea. He walked over to a closet in the room and from a corner, pulled out a Polaroid camera. Color Polaroid cameras were new at this point. I knew the Fields family had one because Mr. Fields had brought it to troop meetings. The picture quality was only OK but who cared? They were magic. We immediately knew what Dave was thinking and there was a loud chorus of no way, nobody was taking a picture of me naked. Dave said who would know? We would, and maybe everybody else, too. We argued and negotiated. We finally all agreed to one picture of the loser's crotch, up close so you didn't know who it was and the picture would be torn up right away. We went around the circle and everyone gave their Scout's Honor that they'd allow their picture to be taken if they lost. We had learned the hard way this step was necessary when trying to enforce a penalty after one of our games.

We sat on the floor around the Frisbee, talking, building up our nerve for this jerk off game. Just to ice Robby, while we sat there, Dave made sure Robby knew he'd get a Frisbee worth of six boy spunk ground into his face if he got off that bed. Robbie stayed put for the rest of the session. I still didn't like the idea of jacking off with a kid as young as Robby in the room but anything else didn't seem to be an option. The obvious one, stopping, certainly wasn't. Plus, it was Dave's bedroom, too. We followed Dave. Rising to his knees, Dave told us to get on ours around the Frisbee. Dave had us move in close, so that while we weren't as tight as we were with Robby, we were still too tight for my comfort. We were all soft so at least we'd begin from the same place. Dave said, Go! We all started furiously beating off. It was a race. While we'd had jerk off contests before, the stakes were pretty high this time. Getting my boner back and beating as fast as I could, I glanced up to see Robby standing on his bed, craning to look into the circle. Oops. Robby was not a good thing to think about. I looked down at bouncing fists and wiggling dicks instead. Focus. I jerked harder. The only sound was a mangled chorus of slapping flesh. Without warning, Barry leaned in and blasted into the Frisbee. He then jumped up and dove headfirst over a row of masturbators, screaming loudly, first! Barry landed in a summersault and bounced up onto his feet, just missing a chair. Everyone was distracted except Curt, who was laughing while blasting his own load into the Frisbee. Damn, I wasn't even close yet. I had to get my attention back on business. I pictured a naked teenage girl from a nudist magazine. I jacked faster. I started to get the feeling. I knew it was there, somewhere. Dave blasted. Shit. I beat my dick even harder. I looked at the trails of spunk on the bottom of the Frisbee. I watched Don and Stookey jerking their dicks with abandon, as much sideways as back and forth. I thought back to other times jerking off with these guys: our first skinny dipping sessions, a boner on a mountaintop, five naked boys in a backyard tent. Finally the heat rose from my crotch and filled my head. I knew it was my turn. I crawled a little closer to the Frisbee and blasted my load into it. For me it was a huge release. With all the tension caused by Robby's presence, I came hard and I fell back from the circle after I shot my load.

Maybe I was simply glad I wasn't the last one to cum. Don Fields earned that booby prize. I knew that the moment I heard Stookey scream. After we had all recovered a bit, Dave started setting up the camera. These early Polaroids definitely weren't point and shoot. Don began to object but we wouldn't hear of it. Scout's Honor! Dave had Don stand up and move over next to the sliding glass door that lead out to the pool for better light. We all followed. Robby was happy. The glass door was over by him. Dave told Don to get a boner. Don said no way, that was not part of the deal. Without much of a fight, Dave relented. He stood few feet away from Don (you couldn't get too close with these old cameras or it would be out of focus), crouched down and took a picture. Dave pulled the Polaroid film out of the camera. You had to wait a specific amount of time before you peeled the picture off of the negative. We gathered around a desk, even Robby, whose banishment seemed to have been revoked, and waited for the picture to develop. Dave pulled the picture apart and laid it on the desk. Great whoops of laughter exploded as there was Don, from his chest to his knees, nude. The picture continued to darken as it developed. You couldn't make out any details but still here was a picture of Don naked. Bitchin'. We all grabbed for the picture to see it up close and a game of Keep It Away From Don spontaneously erupted. Very fun, the Keep It Away From Don game was sort of like the game we played in the pool when we stripped each other of our swim suits, except without the water and we were already naked. Eventually Curt wrestled Don to the ground and sat on his chest, pinning him to the floor, while the rest of us checked out Don's Polaroid and made crude jokes. After we'd all examined the picture, we gave it to Curt who, as he rose up off of Don, gave the Polaroid to him. Don looked at it and said it wasn't him. He might get away with that; it was fuzzy enough. Dave then yelled, last one in the pool gets their picture taken next, and ran for the sliding glass door. We all sprinted after him.

After a short swim, somebody said they were thirsty and so we went inside to get a Coke. I felt strange, wandering around somebody else's kitchen and house while nude but soon we ended up back in the Fields brothers' bedroom.

We sat around and for the first and only time, the Antelope Patrol had a long conversation about masturbation. That's when I found out that Dave and Don occasionally jerked off together. They mentioned doing it with each other in the shower. As reluctant as they were to admit this -- surprising as the Antelope Patrol had done worse -- I thought at the time that it might be a mutual masturbation kind of thing. Dave also told us when they went to bed he would occasionally pull down the covers and jerk off, putting on a show for Don and Robby. Again hesitantly, Dave admitted he'd done this for years. Whoa. I found out that Curt also learned how to beat off from an older brother, but only through an explanation, not a demonstration. I told about my first time jerking off in the bathroom. We also shared techniques. Curt liked to hump a pillow rather than use his fist. I later tried this in the privacy of my own bedroom but never could make it work. Barry liked to soap up his dick before jacking off, his favorite place to do it being in the bathtub, taking a bath. He described sitting on the edge of the tub, in the middle of taking his bath, only his feet in the water, and creating a ton of soap suds while he beat off. To clean up, he'd finish his bath. Curt talked about swimming. The YMCA back in his old home town had nude swimming. In fact, unless it was mixed sex swimming, most of the time the guys swam nude. Many of his swimming practices had been in the nude. Dicks became as interesting as ear lobes. Even when the occasional boner popped up, nobody cared. The first guy he jerked off with was a guy from that swim team although it was at one of their homes, in a pool house when they were showering. Curt and his teammate were goofing around and this time when boners developed, there was definite interest. They ended up jacking off standing next to each other in the shower. They returned to that pool house many times before Curt moved. We found out Curt introduced Mike to the fun of beating off with another guy soon after he joined our troop. Curt and Mike shared a tent on the same camping trip the Antelope Patrol discovered the swimming hole. They first did it that night. Talk about coincidence. We were all meant to jack off together. Curt was going to high school next fall. While he knew the best swimmers shaved their arms, legs and chests, Curt had heard that the high school swim team forced the freshmen to shave off all their body hair. I still have an image of Curt, sitting on the edge of a bed, looking down and rubbing his pubes, resigned to losing them, saying there weren't a lot of them anyway. We talked about how long it would take for Curt's pubes to grow back. None of us knew. We guessed years. It had taken each of us years to get to where we were with ours. We shared more misinformation. Dave was convinced the acid in spunk would eat through sheets. We also thought a blow job somehow involved blowing air into a guy's dick. I tell you, we were stupid.

With us relaxing and just talking honestly, there was a totally different air in the room than there had been an hour before. The tension gone, Dave never ordered Robby to his bed. Instead, all this time, driven by curiosity, Robby moved around from boy to boy, checking out our pubes, dicks and nut sacks. He concentrated on the strangers: Barry, Stookey, Curt and me. We sat back on the beds or the floor and let Robby fondle and examine us. Somehow Robby's presence had gone from weird to normal and everyone was now very casual about it. Only with Curt was there any issue. Robby was fascinated by Curt and at one point Curt had to tell Robby to move on to the next guy, otherwise Curt was going to blast right then and there. Curt wasn't the only boy who was turned on. Because of all the talking about beating off, helped along by Robby's hands and I'm sure my own, I, too, got a boner, as did others. There was a lull in the conversation. At that moment it seemed natural for us to just lie back and start jerking. Anyone who wasn't already hard quickly got that way and joined in. Even Robby played with himself, lying on his bed. There was a lot of grunting and groaning going on but almost no checking each other out. I guess we all just needed a good blast.

After we all came, we once more dove into the pool to wash off the spunk. It was at this point we got caught. Mrs. Fields came home to find seven naked boys in her swimming pool. Angry, she ordered us to get dressed. Trunks were gathered from around the pool and fetched off of the roof. Thank God she at least went inside while this all happened. Somehow we all knew things had maybe gone farther today than they should have. It was academic, anyway. Mr. Fields, for unrelated reasons of his own, soon resigned as Scoutmaster. Dave, then Don, left the troop. I'd see them through high school, but with Dave a year ahead of me and Don one behind, we didn't hang out. Curt became patrol leader of the Antelope Patrol. We shaped up and became real scouts. Curt became the boss, not a buddy, although I'm sure Mike and he kept something going. On campouts, they'd disappear for an hour or two. Humm. I got together with Barry at least one more time for a jerk off session, and maybe three or four more times with Stookey, once with the two of us even sharing a sleeping bag for the night, but that was it. Before I turned fifteen, my experimentation phase was over. The club broke up.

A number of years later I was back in town to visit family. I was a junior in college at that point and living many states away. I went out to dinner with my folks and in the restaurant we ran into the Fields family. I hadn't seen them in years. Mr. and Mrs. Fields were fine, but much cooler, Dave and Don were both there. Dave looked great, having filled into his body, and he wore a full beard. All of our hair was way too long. Don was now taller than Dave although still as thin as can be. I was certainly thinner than they had ever seen me. Dave was with his fianc?. Both boys had stayed in town. Robby, now Rob, was still in high school and not with them. We traded phone numbers and after dinner, called and arranged to meet each other later that night at a neighborhood tavern. Dave's fianc? stayed home. It turned out they were living together which was still a controversial thing in 1974. We shared a few pitchers of beer and checked up on each other's happenings. Dave was attending the local state university. The wedding was still a ways away. They met through an old girlfriend of Don's. Don was working, what I can't remember. He was thinking about joining the Navy as he had a terrible draft number. Vietnam definitely hadn't wound down yet. I talked about college. I told them I'd hiked the John Muir Trail between Yosemite Valley and Mt. Whitney the summer between my freshman and sophomore years. I'm sure I let these guys know that I finally got laid the beginning of my junior year. Once in a dick measuring contest, you're always in a dick measuring contest. We never talked directly about the club although we did allude to it a few times. The three of us joked that we never participated in anything like our club activities again and I believed them. I haven't. Still, I could tell from their tone that they also remembered our times in the club with a certain fondness, not shame, those experiences more than a bit embarrassing to look back upon but part of our history. At one point, Don and I were in the head, taking a leak. Standing at the urinals, staring at the wall, Don said, you know, the picture was never destroyed. Huh? The Polaroid, he repeated. Walking over to the sink, he explained Dave had been a jerk and kept the picture as blackmail. He gave it back to Don years later and Don threw it in a box, its power long since gone. He saw it when he moved, now curled and faded. You could barely even tell it was nude guy anymore. Don joked he should throw it away.

Dave, Don and I finished our beers. We shook hands and making the Boy Scout three fingered salute, pledged to stay in touch. I never saw them or another member of the Antelope Patrol again.


[lb][i]This story was originally submitted to Solo Touch and not published because it violates the rules.[/i][rb]