Episode 11 – Saturday in the Park with Jewel

Ahhh! Saturday morning. Wake up with the stiffest boner in history…dreamed of Jewel. Tempted to release my load, but don’t want to lose the high…pull on tight undies…gotta hide any spontaneous excitement. It’s weird. On one hand, I’m dying to show her, on the other, scared shitless she’ll think I’m a perv.

Skip breakfast. Don’t want to risk bloat-concealed abs. Leave early to make sure I’m totally warmed up for the run and whatever. Fuck! Jewel’s already there! Sees me and waves happily…such bliss!

She’s hotter than the first time. Is that a touch of make-up? For me? Or, is it the smile, the big sparkling eyes, the cute pink visor…maybe all of the above. She starts stretching, gives me a sly smile like she’s really happy. If we run without detouring into the trees, it’ll be a fucking miracle.

“Don’t you stretch?” She asks.

“Never,” but I’m thinking: yeah, seven or eight inches, maybe eight for you. I’m a totally disgusting pig.

“Join me,” she says. “This is so great for flexibility.”

I make a half-assed effort. Keep peeking at her endless legs, thighs, and all of the above.

She laughs. “Haven’t you stretched before?”

“Never,” I confess. Again, my mind is on flights of fancy: Of course, I’d be delighted to stretch privately.

“You really should. It helps prevent injuries.”

“I’ve never had any,” but a little pain sounds interesting.

“Never?”

“Not from running. I’m really flexible,” except my crotch…especially now.

We start off. I feel good. Jewel speeds up, testing me again, but I keep pace easily.

“You’re the real thing,” she says breathlessly. ” I can’t believe you’re not on the track team. how far can you run?”

I shrug. “Beats me…hours.”

We cruise along. It’s a spectacular day…second summer-like day in a row. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time. Everything’s festive…boats on the river, families, kids, bikers…the hottie beside me. Wish it could last forever.

“So, are you popular?” She asks.

“Moi? No way.”

“I can’t believe it. You’re so fit, and handsome.”

“Are you on weed?” I ask. “I’m a fucking non-conformist oddball…love quirky shit like Lady Gaga, Glee, and my main man, Pee Wee.”

“Herman?”

“Yup, he’s a corker.”

“A what? Why do you like him? He’s a pervert?”

“I guess, sort of. Aren’t we all?”

She looks uneasy, like she wants to turn around and call it a day. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Immediately, I know she’s going to ask if I’m gay, and typically, I’d needle her and tell her I’m on hormone therapy and considering breast implants, but she’s too sexy to take a chance, and hey, I’m not naive. When anybody likes the shit I do, it’s a legit question, and I’m never sure how to answer. I mean, based on my dick meter, I’m straight as a fucking ruler…don’t spring hard-ons around guys, but I’m so fucking curious about dicks. I check bulges, hang in the locker room, look on the web…not that i want to butt-fuck anybody…just want to be sure I’m not stunted or anything. So far, I’ve managed to reassure myself…okay, some guys put me to shame, but not many. “So,” I say, “what do you want to know?”

“Well, it’s obvious you like girls, but please tell me you’re not into funky shit, like foot fetishes, cross-dressing, and stuff like that.”

“No way. Cross my heart. Why do you ask?”

“Your interests…they’re pretty wacky.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’d like to be an entertainer, a singer specifically.”

Her eyes widen. “You sing too? Like what?”

“Blues mostly. Blues interpretations of standards.”

“That’s cool.”

It’s pretty hard to talk. There’s so much going on. We’re swerving around moms with strollers, oldsters, walkers. I wonder if anyone notices us….maybe figure something exciting’s going on. Jeez, I hope so. All signs are pointing in the right direction!

“So, what about you?” I ask, “Are you popular…a boyfriend and all the trappings?”

“I’m not unpopular. I have a bunch of friends, and hang with them. That’s fine with me. I’m not class president or anything.”

“You have a boyfriend?”

Her face gets serious. “Sort of a boyfriend, Jason, but we’re not lovers or anything. He’s part of my like, group, and we go out sometimes, but nothing heavy. I guess I like quirky guys.”

“You think we’re similar?”

“Not really. He’s a pot smoker…kind of a neo-hippie…into music…just plays the guitar, skateboards a lot. He’s in pretty good shape, but not like you.”

“Why’d you keep calling me…I mean if you’ve got Jason. I don’t mind…just curious.” Actually, I feel pretty bad. Jewel already has a boyfriend, so what the fuck am I? It’s confusing, but the way she downplays it gives me a glimmer of hope…but just a glimmer.

She like reads my mind, studies me….smiles. “I want to get to the next level with someone. There’s a lot I like about Jason, but he’s so into his pot and music, I feel totally secondary.”

“Does he practice constantly?” We’re talking about serious stuff…real issues…trying to jog at the same time…wish we could stop and focus on each other.

She’s staring into the distance. “He doesn’t practice that much, but listens to a zillion bands and knows everything about them. Frankly, it’s a little old.”

We continue on. Our pace slows. I want to stop and say: “You’re so incredibly interesting and attractive, I’d like to take you out,” but it seems weird trying to snake her from Jason. I’m afraid it’ll turn her off.

“Well, I’m available if you need somebody to hang with,” I say, sounding pretty lame.

“Thanks,” she says. “Want to go to the diner afterwards?”

“Definitely! I could eat a horse…or maybe a pony.”

To be continued…

To be continued…Read next episode!