Full Frame
3
The Shadow
I SPENT THE WEEK biking around town, taking pictures, and cleaning the garage. Tearing down a motorcycle was going to be more work than tearing down a bicycle. It wasn’t going to be that bad, I guessed. I wasn’t going to be working on a Harley Hog. Tony rode a Triumph Cub 199cc sport bike. It was about two steps above putting a motor on my bicycle. It would be a little tricky taking it apart, but not as bad as it sounds at first.
Still, I was going to need room and clean workbenches to do the job, so I worked pretty hard and managed to get all the remaining boxes stacked neatly on one side of the garage with the other side open for my repair job. I found Dad’s Shop-Vac and got into all the corners on my side of the garage to clean out the dust and cobwebs. I’d probably need the vacuum when I was sanding, and was glad it had a filtering bag.
Of course, Mom wanted to pull the Falcon into the open bay and not have it parked in the driveway. Dad explained to her that I had a job coming in and would need the shop space. Mom eyed the stacked side and suggested Dad might want to clear more room so she could get her car inside this winter.
In the winter, I didn’t think I’d be doing any jobs and Mom would be welcome to park on the side I’d cleared. But Dad made some effort to clean out the other side. It was just hard for him.
In addition to collecting tools he’d never need or use, Dad was a bit of a hoarder. He never threw anything away. When we were unpacking one box, he proudly pulled out a thing that I couldn’t identify. He held it like it was a precious trophy.
“What’s that, Dad?” I asked.
“That is the water pump your sister Deborah took out of the old Champion. Took apart the whole car to get to it.” And with that he told the story that I’m sure I’d heard twenty times already. He wasn’t going to throw away that old piece of junk, because it was the first thing Deborah did on the car by herself.
I’d leaned over the engine in a car and only recently was able to check the oil without a stepstool. I could understand why Deborah decided to start at the front and take everything off so she could get to it. She’s only five feet tall.
Dad came home from the service station where he worked on Wednesday afternoon, driving a flatbed truck. Mom was out ‘calling’ so he pulled up right to the garage and whistled to get my attention. I was inside with my music going full blast. At the sound of Dad’s whistle, though, I came running. I’d learned that early on in life.
“Help me load all this stuff onto the truck, Nate.” We set to work.
“Are you taking all this to the dump without even opening the boxes?” I asked in disbelief.
“Hush your mouth, boy. None of this is going to a dump. Henry says he’s got a building behind his house about the size of a garage that’s mostly empty. Used to be where he worked on cars before he got the station. He said I can store my extra stuff there and get at it any time I want to,” Dad said.
“That’s cool. Is there anything else I should have out of here for my project?”
“Yes. When we get to the back, there’s an engine stand. I think I can adapt it to fit the motorcycle engine when I work on it.”
It took us an hour to load all the boxes onto the truck and locate the stand. Then we drove out to Henry’s place and backed the truck—which was Henry’s—up to the outbuilding. In another hour, we had everything stacked neatly on one side of the old garage. Henry had a bunch of stuff stored on the other side.
Dad dropped the truck back at the station and thanked Henry, then we walked home together.
I did an additional modification to my bike that week, too. I pulled the handlebars and cranks and painted them the same gloss black as the rest of the bike. With new handlebar grips, the bike had a whole new classy look. But I wasn’t done yet.
At Western Auto where I went to get some initial supplies for the motorcycle, like detergent to clean out the gas tank and sandpaper, I came across some pinstriping paint. I bought a can of metallic gold and a fine brush. I put a thin gold line down either side of the crotch panel on the bike and painted a four-leaf clover on the head tube. I chose a four-leaf clover because I couldn’t think of any other design I felt confident I could draw.
When everything was reassembled, I rode over to Judy’s house with an envelope of photos. No one was home. I didn’t know where Janice lived, so that ended my quest for female company. I didn’t think the two were really girlfriend material, but they were kind of funny and cute. I could definitely see spending more time photographing them.
Friday, Tony brought his motorcycle over and pulled into the garage where I pointed. It was a dirt floor, so I had broken-down boxes spread out and taped together to make a work surface.
“You take care of my baby,” he said. “I’m taking off for two weeks on a road trip to California. Now, if you aren’t quite done with it when I get back, I’ll let that slide as long as it’s ready soon.”
“Why the sudden leeway, Tony? I expected you to be a little hardnosed about this.”
“Nate, people got me all wrong. I’m not a bad guy. I just like to have a little fun and tease a bit,” he laughed. “Besides, the old lady said to be nice to you. She’s got half the votes and all the pussy.”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. Well, I’ll still do my best to have it ready when you get back. You sure you want it all black?”
“Just like your bike. Jet black and glossy. I’ll call it The Black Snake. And I like what you did with the gold. Can you put my initials, TK, down on the corner of the tank? About here?”
“You got it. Western Auto said they can have the paint next week. It will take me that long to get it stripped down.”
“You know, speaking of Western Auto, I stopped there early this week and they referred me to a body shop in Huntertown. I got an estimate. Not that I don’t trust you, but I wanted to know what kind of a deal you were making me. They said it would take them a month and cost a lot more than you’re charging. So, I can afford to be a little lenient on the schedule.”
“Mind my asking how it got banged up like this?” I asked.
“Slick pavement. A car pulled out of an intersection ahead of me and I slammed on the brakes. Totally laid it down on the side. I was lucky to be wearing my leathers. Still got a few scrapes. Guy in the car that pulled out in front of me just kept going like he never saw a thing. Only 150 miles on the bike when it happened.”
“Good thing you were riding alone.”
“Yeah. Took me two weeks to convince Patricia to get on it again. But everything works fine. Just needs the body repaired.”
I pulled out a clipboard I’d cadged from Mom. I’d typed up two copies of the estimate and had him sign one. The other, I gave him.
“Put your address and phone number on this, too. If I need to get hold of you or when I’m ready for it to be picked up, I can call.”
“You act like a pro. Gotta respect that, man.” He filled out the paperwork and handed it to me. We shook hands and he walked out of the driveway. An Impala pulled up in front and he got in, giving me a little wave as they drove away.
What I’d forgotten was that this was a holiday weekend. The Fourth of July was on Monday. It didn’t make much difference. Mom still preached on Sunday morning, even though there were about half the number in the congregation that there had been the week before. Andy and I still handed out bulletins, passed the offering plates, and sat in the back pew of the church. Mom gave a kind of patriotic sermon. Not sure how she made the connections she did.
“Hey, we’re still going to play basketball this afternoon,” Andy said. “Join us?”
“Yeah. About three? No company coming today.”
At the appointed time, I rode my bike over to the school and spotted half a dozen guys at the outside basketball court. I stopped a little short of them and snapped a couple of pictures.
“Guys, this is Nate. He’s a junior joining us this year.”
“Hey, Nate,” they chorused. I was soon chosen for a team and we played around for a while. I’m not that great at basketball and one of the guys discovered he could fake me out anytime he wanted to, just by raising a hand in the air and then going the other way. I made one basket, though, so I didn’t feel too bad.
“What are you going to do when the rest of the guys are on the basketball team?” Andy asked when we broke to get a drink from the fountain. I laughed.
“Sit in the bleachers with your girlfriends,” I said. That got some groans and some water splashed at me.
“Fine. We’ll just count you as one of the girls,” one of the guys said.
“I’ll probably be taking your pictures,” I said.
“What?”
I went to my bike and grabbed my camera to show them. They were more interested in the bike.
“Nice bike. You plan to win the parade tomorrow?” Tom asked.
“The what? What parade?”
“It’s a Fourth of July tradition around here. Everybody in town goes,” Andy said. “It started out being all adults a generation or two ago. Then, as bicycles became more a thing for kids, it was just for the little ones. But these days, it’s back to being something everybody who has a bicycle participates in. The town’s too small for a regular parade, so everybody decorates their bicycles and we ride up Main Street as the crowds cheer for their favorites. Mr. Barkley sponsors some prizes, but he always ends up with best of show because he has one of those old high-wheel bikes from like a century ago. You have to ride.”
“Yeah. Parade’s at noon,” Tom said. “All you have to do is show up. Then you can join us at the river for swimming. I heard Janice has a two-piece she’s wearing that’s really cut short.”
“I think I met her. And Judy.”
“You’ve met the town fruitcakes then,” Ron laughed. He hadn’t said much all day. “Nothing wrong with the bods. I just don’t think I could date one of them,” Ron said.
“Only if you dressed up in a costume.”
“You could be Captain Crunch.”
I couldn’t keep track of the names and who was talking.
“Judy and Janice dressed up as Popeye one time. Ever since then they’ve been calling people ‘sailor.’”
“Yeah, they called me that when I met them. What’s it all about?”
“Back in elementary school, the teachers had a ‘dress like your favorite character’ Friday,” Andy explained. “Judy and Janice took it a step further and dressed up like characters every Friday. Everyone thought they’d grow out of it in junior high, but they’re juniors in high school now and still putting on a show most Fridays.”
“I thought they were dressed a little um… extreme. I took some pictures of them. Reminded me of some of the pictures of the victorious allies cruising through France that were in Look Magazine.”
“Now they’ll be after you to take pictures of them every week,” Ron said.
“Just stay away from my girlfriend,” Dan said. “Anybody touches her, I’ll take his balls.” He hadn’t said much today and I got the impression he was a year older and kind of a tough. I don’t know what possessed me.
“Gee, man. Don’t you have a pair of your own? They kind of come as standard equipment on most guys.” Dan gave me a shove and I landed on the ground, protecting my camera from getting smashed. He was headed toward me with a fist raised.
The other guys jumped in front of him and got him settled down. He took off in a huff. Andy helped me up.
“They might be standard equipment, but I guess none of us have balls the size of yours,” he laughed. “Dan thinks he’s tough. He’s a senior and hasn’t let any of us forget it since school got out. I think there’s only one guy in school he won’t tangle with.”
“I don’t have big balls. I just have a big mouth,” I said as I dusted myself off. Mom would have a fit if she found out I was in a fight. Not much of a fight, of course, but still… “Who’s he afraid of?” I asked.
“Tony Kowalski. If you run into him, just be quiet and do whatever he says. He’s got a gang of motorcycle buddies from Huffington. They follow him like he’s Jesus.”
“I know Tony,” I said, not thinking what that might do to my standing. “I’m doing some work on his bike for him.” The guys all stepped away a bit.
“Man, he’s bad news. There’s been a big run of thefts and graffiti lately and the constable suspects it must be his gang. They just haven’t caught the guy at it,” Tom said. “Um… see you at the parade. I gotta boogie.” He turned and left the court. The other guys quickly followed.
“You might have a ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card, being the preacher’s kid, but don’t get caught with Tony when his gang gets busted,” Andy said. “See you tomorrow.” Then even Andy left. I rode home for Sunday night Sundaes.
I needed a little something extra, so I had two.
Monday morning, I started tearing down Tony’s bike. I’d drained all the liquids from it over the weekend and the next thing to do was remove the fuel tank and clean it so I didn’t get any accidental ignitions from gas fumes. While I was working, I spotted my little sister’s bike and thought I should clean it up a little so she could ride in the parade. I used a damp rag to clean all the dust from it from sitting in our garage in the city.
“Hey, Kat!” I yelled from inside the back door. “Come down so I can adjust your bike for you.”
She came skipping down the stairs in a pretty good mood.
“I have a bike?” she asked.
“Did you forget you own one? The question is, ‘Do you remember how to ride?’ There’s a big parade of bicycles at noon today. You’ll probably be able to meet some other kids your age.”
“Coolio.”
She came to the garage and looked at her bike.
“It’s a little kid’s bike!”
“Well, you were little when you got it. I don’t think you’ve ridden it in a year or two.”
“I can’t go out on something like that! They’ll think I’m a dork.”
“You could decorate it up. Put a couple of balloons on it. Some ribbons. Maybe get a card and clip it to the fork so the spokes make it sound like a motorcycle,” I said. She looked disdainfully at me.
“Dork,” she repeated and stalked off to the house.
Well, that was that. I looked at her bike critically. It really was too small for her. Maybe I could find an old bike somewhere I could fix up for her. I went in for an early lunch and told Mom about the parade and that I was going to go ride in it. Mom tried to convince Kat to participate, but she stubbornly refused.
Mom and Kat walked downtown to get a spot for the parade. Not that it was hard in the one-block business district of Main Street. There were probably a hundred people out to watch the parade, most in front of Center Marketplace. I rode around until I found where folks were gathering for the parade.
I don’t think Kat would have looked like a dork. There were people of every age getting ready to ride, including some parents who were walking along with tiny tykes on little bikes with training wheels. Every bike was decorated. Just like I’d told Kat to do. Balloons, ribbons, crepe paper, flags, noise-makers. And in the middle of it all was Mr. Barkley on his high wheeler. Everybody was laughing and there were six kids getting ready to lead the parade marching with kazoos. At the stroke of twelve, signaled by a blast of the volunteer fire station siren, the marchers started off down the street. They were followed by the littlest riders, most of whom had parents walking beside them, sometimes holding their bikes steady. Then it went up in age. There were a couple of groups of high schoolers. I rode in the second group. The first group were some of the guys I played basketball with the day before. They rode while bouncing basketballs beside them. Apparently, they were most of the high school team. My bike stood out from the others in my group and they motioned me to take the lead. There were more people on the street when we started riding the block of our ‘downtown.’ When bikes reached the end of the block, the riders dismounted and walked back up to join the spectators. I got a couple of whistles for my bike. Behind my group were four riders on racing bikes with drop handlebars. They wore helmets and matching jerseys. And finally, Mr. Barkley closed down the parade with his high wheeler.
I almost fell off my bike when I caught sight of Judy and Janice. They were wearing red and white striped mini-skirts, blue halter tops with stars on them, and white go-go boots. They had their hair tied back in pigtails with red, white, and blue ribbons and held red, white, and blue pompoms. I thought the outfits were pretty cute, but they really didn’t need to dot their faces with big freckles. All-American girls.
There was a party atmosphere going on. Mr. Barkley found me and gave me a gift certificate for his store for $10 for “Most Elegant Bike.” I watched and I think he might have given out twenty certificates. I was headed toward Judy and Janice when I spotted my sister with a small group of girls that looked her age.
“My bike’s in the shop,” she was explaining. “My brother is giving it a complete makeover, like his bike. It was the black shadow.”
“That’s a cool bike. Is yours going to be all black, too?” a girl asked.
“I don’t know. I’m thinking I’d like it purple. What do you think?”
There were a lot of answers and suggestions. It looked like I needed to find an old bike and get it fixed up for her.
By the time I’d finished listening to the conversation, I couldn’t find Judy and Janice. I greeted a couple of other people who I knew from church and they all admired my bike. Then I went home.
About two-thirty, I told my folks I was meeting some of the other kids down by the river. Mom cautioned me to stay out of trouble and Kat wanted to know if she could go. I said I thought it was all teens which didn’t sit well with her.
The Otter River is only a mile or so out of town, right at the end of Main Street. The highway curves in town, but Main Street continues on straight. The bridge is over a pretty shallow part of the river, at least shallow upstream. When I got there, a few cars were parked along the road, and several bicycles I saw in the parade. I parked mine and unslung my camera. I carried a bag with a towel and some candy. Mom made me take sunblock but, of course, I didn’t use any. There was a boat ramp upstream about fifty feet, too. Apparently, people fished or canoed on the river a lot. The water was kind of rough downstream of the bridge, and a sign on the bridge said ‘No boating or swimming beyond this point.’
It wasn’t much of a beach. Mostly it was just a grassy area by the water and someone had come down recently to mow it. Before I went to join the others, I snapped a couple of pictures. Janice’s bikini was nice. It was a pair of short shorts that exposed her navel and then a kind of twist-tie halter top. Next to her, though, Judy looked just as sexy in a one-piece with the sides cut out. I saw Andy and waved as I came down. Someone had brought a cooler full of Cokes and I was offered one. Several teens were sitting around in the water, which was never more than waist deep in front of the little beach. Not really a swimming hole; just a place to cool off.
“Hey, Nate,” Andy said. “How’s it hanging?”
“Low and to the left,” I shot back. A couple of girls snickered nearby. I surreptitiously glanced down to make sure my package was tucked into its jock.
I plopped down on the grass and kicked my sneakers off. The grass felt good on my bare feet. Most of the guys had their T-shirts on unless they were in the water, so I kept mine on.
“You got a lot of notice with that black bike of yours,” one of the guys said. “Nice piece of work.”
“Thanks. It’s really an old junker of a bike, but it cleaned up nicely.”
We just lazed around and talked. I asked a little about school and found out which of the kids would be in my class. At one point, Judy and Janice came over and plopped down beside us.
“How come you haven’t shown us our pictures yet,” Janice asked. She seemed to be the more brazen and forward of the two. I had to say, though, Judy had gotten fully wet before she got out of the river and her nipple pops were outstanding. The other guys had obviously noticed, too. She pulled her towel over her shoulders and let it fall over her breasts.
“I stopped by a couple of times, but no one was home,” I said. “Got some good shots, too.”
“Come by around two tomorrow,” Judy whispered to me. I nodded.
Eventually, I decided to try the water and waded in. It was chilly, but not bad. Great for cooling off on a hot day. I lay down on my back and floated, just keeping myself moving against the current. I finally stood up and decided to wade back to shore when I saw Patricia on the opposite shore. I was surprised. I assumed she’d gone to California with her boyfriend. I waded over to say hi.
“What’s up, Patricia? This a private part of the beach?” I asked.
“Oh, you. Pull up some grass and park it. Nobody’s comfortable being around me with Tony out of town. Gossip, you know.”
“I’m not too worried. He told me to take care of his baby. I figured you were going with him on his road trip.”
“The jerk took off with his parents to go to Disneyland,” Patricia snorted. “They think I’m a bad influence on him. Going with them would only prove it.”
“Sorry to hear that. Somebody said you were a junior this year, too. I guess we’ll be in the same class. Is Tony in our class?”
“No. He’s a senior. He doesn’t spend much time around school, though. Most of his friends are from Huffington.”
Patricia stretched out on her back and put her hands behind her head. That did really nice things for the view. I’d have to say, her bikini was a little briefer than Janice’s, and in the light breeze that blew up, I could see her nipples push against a less padded version of the top, even though it wasn’t wet. What fascinated me, though was her navel. Stretched out like she was, it was kind of elongated in her flat tummy and a good two or three inches above the waist of her bikini.
I gotta tell you about navels, man. I love ’em. You didn’t see many girls expose them, but there were a few in the city who wore shirts that rode up to expose their bellies when they stretched. I always thought that was the sexiest thing.
I’d had a dream once… Mom had given me a ‘facts of life’ book when I was in junior high, so I knew the basic mechanics of sex as explained in the book. I guess that took the place of either her or Dad having to actually explain it to me. So, anyway, I had this dream and I was making out like crazy with Theresa Newman in my class. Seemed like I dreamed about her a lot, even though she said I looked like Alfred E. Newman. So, we were making out and we were going to do it. She shoved her pants down a little and there was her navel. I’d caught a glimpse of it once when the girls were practicing hand-stands in gym. Her shirt came untucked and dropped all the way to her bra before she got back to her feet. In my dream, my cock was just about to touch her navel when I started coming. Man, that was intense. I think it was the first wet dream I’d ever had that I didn’t have to finish up with my hand. Just pow! There it was.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” Patricia said. I guess she was aware that I’d been staring at her. I quickly looked up at the smirk on her face.
“Um… Yeah. That would be great, but I left my camera in my bag on the other shore. Want to come over so I can get some pix? You look really great,” I said.
“You are really something! You talk Tony out of wrecking your bike, get him to agree to pay you to fix his, and walk right over here to talk to his girlfriend. You know why I’m over here on this shore and everybody else is over there? Because nobody wants to get too close to Tony’s girlfriend or he might hurt them. Those two girls you were talking to? They used to be my best friends. Damn, we had some good times. But they’re all talk and no go. When I hooked up with Tony, they went all goody two-shoes on me.”
“Well, after we talked for a while, I kind of liked Tony. I was actually more worried about you when you took off on my bike. He said if you hurt it, he’d spank you.”
“Yeah. Only he knows that’s not punishment. You like to take pictures, huh?”
“It’s what I plan to do for a living. I process my own film and print what I like. I’m still learning, but I’m getting pretty good,” I said.
“So, you’re the only one who sees the pictures? What do you do with them?”
“I hope one day I’ll have an exhibit in a gallery. Then I’ll go back through the best of my photos and choose the ones I want to display. That’s like years away, though. For now, I just take them and study them and try to figure out what I can do to make them better. Maybe I’ll enter the county fair if it isn’t too late already.”
“Okay.”
“Huh?”
“Okay. You can take my picture. But not out here. I’ll come by sometime this week. I want to check on the work on Tony’s bike. You can take my picture then.”
“Great. See you then.”
I got up as casually as I could and waded back into the river. I took my time wading across and letting the cool water do its thing to shrink my stiff cock.
I arrived at Judy’s house a little after two on Tuesday. I’d spent the morning pulling the engine assembly from the frame. I took Dad’s words to heart and didn’t try to take everything apart in pieces. The bigger the chunk, the less problem I’d have putting it back together. The wheels were next and before long I had a bare frame. I went in and took a shower, ate my lunch, and grabbed the envelope of prints I’d made for Judy and Janice.
“Hey. Um… Why don’t you wheel your bike around back?” Judy said when she answered the door. She had some kind of jacket on, which I thought was odd with her shorts.
I wheeled The Shadow, as my sister had named my bike, around to the gate at the side of the house and then into the back yard. It had a high fence all the way around the yard and in the middle of the yard was an above-ground swimming pool. It wasn’t really big enough to swim in unless you were a little kid, but you could certainly cool off. Judy came crashing out the back door in her swimming suit and climbed the ladder to get into the pool. Janice popped up over the edge.
“Hi, Nate! We knew you wanted to take more pictures of us at the river yesterday, but you were being so discreet. We thought we’d give you another chance today,” she said.
“You can take pictures of us in our bathing suits,” Judy said, joining Janice at the edge.
“That’s great,” I said, unpacking my camera. I left the envelope of prints in the bag and approached the pool. “Just stay right there, looking over the edge of the pool,” I said. They complied and I got them to cross their arms under their chins. It was cute. I checked the background and moved to a different position. I also tightened the depth of field to blur out the bushes in the background.
“What next?” Judy asked.
“Um… let me get up a step or two on the ladder. I’ll see how it looks pointing down.” I mounted the ladder and the girls moved toward the middle of the pool. It was a nice view with the water foreshortening the image of their legs. “Let’s try one with Judy splashing Janice,” I said. “Not toward me. Across this way.” I set my shutter speed way up and clicked a couple of shots, then had Janice splash Judy. After a little play I suggested they float. They both rolled into a classic dead man’s float. I took a picture because their butts were sticking up in the air and I could see their legs. “I was thinking floating on your backs.”
They rolled over on their backs and floated facing me. Wow! In the water, Janice’s suit kind of sucked up next to her skin and I could see the perfect shape of her pussy. And then there were Judy’s nipples. I noticed something I didn’t see yesterday. Neither girl was wearing a bra or padding with her top and it molded right to the shape of her breasts and nipples.
“Oh, God!” Judy said, glancing at Janice and then sitting up in the water so it was up to her chin. “Can you see our nipples in the photo?”
“Only if I did it right,” I said, laughing.
“I’m going to die,” Judy said.
“Oh, come on, Prudy Judy,” Janice said. “Let’s get out of the pool and model our suits for him.” I got down from the ladder and the girls climbed out. I got a couple shots of them coming down the ladder, too. Then they turned and faced me. I moved them over away from the ladder and told them to “Pose sexy.”
Funny how they seemed to know exactly how to do that. I’m not sure I could have told them the exact turn of their knee or the raised arm, but I got good shots of them all the way around, front and back. My camera stopped and I rewound the film.
“Wow! That’s a whole roll of you beautiful girls,” I said.
“Do you think we’re beautiful?” Judy asked. I detected that someone had been telling her she wasn’t good looking, or maybe that she was just weird. Without makeup and her face still a little wet, she really looked cute.
“Why don’t we take a look at the photos I took the other day and you’ll see for yourself.” We sat down on the grass and I appreciated that they didn’t bother to dry or wrap up in a towel. I just loved the way their suits clung to their bodies. And Janice leaned back on one hand a little so I had a perfect view of her navel. I think if I’d had film left in the camera, I would have tried to get a close-up of it.
Instead, I suggested that I’d hold the pictures so they didn’t get them wet and started the presentation, commenting on what I saw.
“This is a picture of two lonely women in France at the end of the war, watching the Americans roll into town,” I said as I showed the picture of them pointing off into the distance with their lit cigarettes. A curl of smoke seemed to almost caress Judy’s cheek.
“The what? That’s us on the porch,” Janice giggled.
“Oh, I try to make up a little story about a picture. Not a whole story, but just a phrase or a sentence that sets the scene for the feeling I was going for.”
“That’s cool. I get it,” Judy said. “I want to show this to my mom.”
“Judy! Really?” Janice asked.
“When she found out we’d been smoking, she made me smoke an entire pack, one after another. I got so sick, I threw up for two hours. I told her it was just for a picture and she didn’t believe me. I want to show her the proof.”
“Well, there’s a set of prints for each of you.”
“What are you going to do with the photos?” Janice asked.
“I thought I might enter a couple of my best in the county fair in August. They offer some prizes and a chance to exhibit at the state fair over Labor Day. I won a 4-H contest a few years ago. That’s part of what got me into photography.”
“As long as you don’t enter a picture that shows my nipples,” Judy said. She looked down at her still prominent nubs and started to cover them, then looked over at Janice who was in equal condition. “I guess I don’t mind if you see them,” she whispered. “I mean through my clothes. I’m not like going to expose myself. But there’s no sense covering up and pretending you haven’t already seen them.”
“And you called me a tramp,” Janice giggled. She leaned back further and arched her back a little to make sure hers were pointing up at the sky. I thought they sure looked nice.
“Um… I saw you at the parade yesterday but got held up when I was on my way to say hi. Why weren’t you riding bikes in those cute costumes?” I asked, as my eyes drifted between the two sets of nipples and Janice’s navel.
“Our bikes got a little small,” Judy said.
“Besides, Kevin goes around sniffing the seats when we’ve been on them,” Janice said.
“Who’s Kevin?”
“My gay little brother,” Judy said. “Mom doesn’t like it when we call him a queer, so we just say he’s gay.”
“Oh. Well, if you’d like me to take a look at your bikes and adjust them a little, so they fit, I’ll do my best. Or if you want to get rid of one, I’m looking for a bike for my little sister. And if Kevin keeps doing the sniff test, you could always sprinkle pepper on the seat when you finish riding. That would stop him.”
“Oh, that is evil!” Judy laughed. “I don’t know what he thinks he’s going to smell. It’s not like we ride naked. You’d think he’d get his fill from the underwear he steals out of the hamper.”
“Is he still doing that?”
“I don’t know. I keep mine in a bag in my closet and wash them out by hand instead of putting them in the laundry.”
I squeezed my eyes shut with the thought of Judy’s underwear. I couldn’t believe they were talking about this stuff with me right there. My cock was beginning to ache.
“Well, um… I should probably get going and let you enjoy the rest of your afternoon,” I croaked. What I wanted to do was get home and relieve the pressure in my balls.
They said goodbye and thanked me for giving them the pictures.
“Anytime you want more story pictures, let us know. We love to get dressed up.”
“I’ll do that. Thanks,” I said. I pushed my bike out of the yard and pedaled like mad for home.
Any thought I had of getting some relief was delayed when Dad greeted me in the garage and we started talking about the disassembled motorcycle.
Please feel free to send comments to the author at devon@devonlayne.com.
