Archive-name: FirstGay/ftg094.txt
Archive-author: 
Archive-title: Jason's Shower House:  Part I.


When I was 15, I spent 3 weeks of my summer vacation with my friend
Jason (Not his real name) at the Jersey shore.  Jason's parents owned
a beachfront bungalow 1/2 mile from a popular boardwalk.  We spent
most of our days either hanging out at the boardwalk, swimming or
just basking inthe sun.  At night, we stayed up late in Jason's bedroom
bullshiting and trying to impress each other with what little we
actually understood about sex.  We had each "discovered" masturbation
on our own, and had cautiously breeched the subject in our late night
discussions.    One afternoon, we bribed one of the adult "characters"
who frequented the boardwalk to buy us two bottles of cheap, sugary
wine (Boone's Farm) and we hid underneath the boardwalk, quickly
consuming the "evidence" to avoid being caught.  The immediate effect
was predictable: we both became gloriously drunk!  The subsequent
effect was also predictable: Jason lost his cookies and puked all
over himself.  Fearing the thought of returning to the bungalow and
having to explain matters to Jason's mother, I devised a plan to
first clean Jason up.  I would give him my pants to replace his soiled
outfit and I would wear the bathing suit I had on underneath.  We
went in to a public rest room to change.  It had those damn coin-operated
pay toilets so we were forced to crawl under the stall door to get
in.  Although we got looks from others in the rest room, we made
it.   (CONTINUED in Part II.)

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