The Thing I Didn't Know I Didn't Know (Russel Middlebrook: The Futon Years Book 1) by Brent Hartinger Page A
Authors: Brent Hartinger
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I said, meaning the Kickstarter campaign.
Ben sighed. "Not so good. I don't understand it. We were on Huffington Post and everything."
At that, Ben stopped to consult his compass and a map. A few minutes later, we veered away from the stream, onto a different trail. That surprised me, since Ben had said that the site had been right along the creek.
Before long, I smelled sulfur. Now there was an even smaller stream on our left—a tributary to a tributary, I guess. And it looked like it was steaming.
"Are there hot springs around here?" I said.
"Just ahead," Clive said with a grin.
Sure enough, we came upon this pool nestled in the ferns, maybe ten feet across. Someone had encircled it with rocks, and there was a littering of trash too—all evidence that plenty of people had been here before. The water steamed and bubbled ever-so-slightly.
"I read about it online," Ben said. He smiled, even as he started unbuttoning his shirt. "What a coincidence, huh?" Suddenly the Bigfoot hunters were breaking out towels and undressing all around me.
"Wait," I said. "We're getting in?"
"Why not?" Katie said. "Now everyone turn around, please."
We all turned around, so Katie could finish undressing and slip into the water in private.
But the rest of us? We were just five guys. And only one of those guys—Gunnar—knew I was gay. And now the others (except for Gunnar) were shamelessly undressing all around me.
Shirts were shucked, and zippers slid down, showing boxers (on Leon and Clive) and boxer briefs (on Ben). Their bodies were furry, every one of them. They weren't like a lot of gay guys, pruned and shaved and trimmed. They'd all let their body hair grow completely wild (which, alas, also meant back hair, but what can you do?)
And then the undies were shucked, and the hair around me became thicker, denser, even more wild. Between their legs, members swung and jiggled, all of them beautiful snowflakes, each in their own unique way. Which isn't to say I looked. It was mostly just a question of seeing them out of the corner of my eye. (Okay, I may have peeked at Ben just a bit, and let me just point out that his didn't jiggle. It had too much heft.)
You totally know where I'm going with this, don't you? Yup, talk about your half-man/half-beast sightings! But at that point, I'm not sure that best described the Bigfoot hunters, or me, barely able to control myself.
No, not really. The whole situation was undeniably erotic, but I'd spent enough time in locker rooms to know how to deal with situations like this.
Down boy , I said to my own penis, and apart from a bit of sullen twitching, it acquiesced to my command. Then I started to undress myself.
Gunnar, meanwhile, didn't move. He was just as stunned as I was by this turn of events, and was also gaping a little, except not in a sexual way.
"What about the Bigfoot site?" he said at last.
"Oh, we passed that a while ago," Ben said, slipping into the water, the best parts sinking into the murk.
"It'll still be there when we're done," Clive said, following Ben into the pool.
"But..." Gunnar said.
"When in Rome," I said to him, and I buttoned my own pants.
But then I did turn away, from Gunnar at least, because the last thing in the world I wanted to see was my best guy friend naked.
* * *
In fairness, we didn't spend the whole day in the hot springs. After an hour or so, we dried ourselves off, then headed back the way we'd come. We had to ford the river to reach the actual spot where Bigfoot had been sighted (and I'd only brought one pair of shoes). But we didn't see anything of the creatures themselves, not even any more partial footprints.
That night, Katie made another great dinner: some of the trout she and Clive had caught grilled with lemon and dill on a skillet over the fire, along with a salad of wild greens Leon had collected that afternoon. And about the time Ben pulled out a homemade blueberry pie, it occurred to me that maybe finding
Ben sighed. "Not so good. I don't understand it. We were on Huffington Post and everything."
At that, Ben stopped to consult his compass and a map. A few minutes later, we veered away from the stream, onto a different trail. That surprised me, since Ben had said that the site had been right along the creek.
Before long, I smelled sulfur. Now there was an even smaller stream on our left—a tributary to a tributary, I guess. And it looked like it was steaming.
"Are there hot springs around here?" I said.
"Just ahead," Clive said with a grin.
Sure enough, we came upon this pool nestled in the ferns, maybe ten feet across. Someone had encircled it with rocks, and there was a littering of trash too—all evidence that plenty of people had been here before. The water steamed and bubbled ever-so-slightly.
"I read about it online," Ben said. He smiled, even as he started unbuttoning his shirt. "What a coincidence, huh?" Suddenly the Bigfoot hunters were breaking out towels and undressing all around me.
"Wait," I said. "We're getting in?"
"Why not?" Katie said. "Now everyone turn around, please."
We all turned around, so Katie could finish undressing and slip into the water in private.
But the rest of us? We were just five guys. And only one of those guys—Gunnar—knew I was gay. And now the others (except for Gunnar) were shamelessly undressing all around me.
Shirts were shucked, and zippers slid down, showing boxers (on Leon and Clive) and boxer briefs (on Ben). Their bodies were furry, every one of them. They weren't like a lot of gay guys, pruned and shaved and trimmed. They'd all let their body hair grow completely wild (which, alas, also meant back hair, but what can you do?)
And then the undies were shucked, and the hair around me became thicker, denser, even more wild. Between their legs, members swung and jiggled, all of them beautiful snowflakes, each in their own unique way. Which isn't to say I looked. It was mostly just a question of seeing them out of the corner of my eye. (Okay, I may have peeked at Ben just a bit, and let me just point out that his didn't jiggle. It had too much heft.)
You totally know where I'm going with this, don't you? Yup, talk about your half-man/half-beast sightings! But at that point, I'm not sure that best described the Bigfoot hunters, or me, barely able to control myself.
No, not really. The whole situation was undeniably erotic, but I'd spent enough time in locker rooms to know how to deal with situations like this.
Down boy , I said to my own penis, and apart from a bit of sullen twitching, it acquiesced to my command. Then I started to undress myself.
Gunnar, meanwhile, didn't move. He was just as stunned as I was by this turn of events, and was also gaping a little, except not in a sexual way.
"What about the Bigfoot site?" he said at last.
"Oh, we passed that a while ago," Ben said, slipping into the water, the best parts sinking into the murk.
"It'll still be there when we're done," Clive said, following Ben into the pool.
"But..." Gunnar said.
"When in Rome," I said to him, and I buttoned my own pants.
But then I did turn away, from Gunnar at least, because the last thing in the world I wanted to see was my best guy friend naked.
* * *
In fairness, we didn't spend the whole day in the hot springs. After an hour or so, we dried ourselves off, then headed back the way we'd come. We had to ford the river to reach the actual spot where Bigfoot had been sighted (and I'd only brought one pair of shoes). But we didn't see anything of the creatures themselves, not even any more partial footprints.
That night, Katie made another great dinner: some of the trout she and Clive had caught grilled with lemon and dill on a skillet over the fire, along with a salad of wild greens Leon had collected that afternoon. And about the time Ben pulled out a homemade blueberry pie, it occurred to me that maybe finding
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