[SwimTeamSpeedo]

“That was the most scared I have ever been,” Ben remarked as the three guys sat on the Pontoon boat, tied to the dock, drinking beers. MaryBeth and Jack were out for the night, leaving the guys to themselves. After some horseplay in the lake, they opted to have a few beers, and just hang out. Maybe later they would go into town and get some pizza.

“Oh bull, man,” Dylan replied, “it was cool, I loved it.”

The guys recalled the flight out. After their fun in the remote lake, Jack had prepped them for the take-off. “It’s harder to get out of here than it is to get in,” he said. “We have to get some airspeed before we can clear the hills.” Jack pulled way back on the eastern side of the lake. The best opening was flying out to the east, but he had to take off to the west. He needed at least 1000 feet to make sure he cleared the peaks and had room for anything that could go wrong.

The plane shook as it roared across the lake westward. Jack rotated the flaps and lifted off about a third of the way down the lake. As soon as he cleared the water and got some altitude, almost using the whole lake, he banked hard left then made a circle back to head east. Because of the width, it was a tight turn, causing a steeper bank than usual, setting off some cockpit alarms.

“It’s okay,” Jack called out. Ben about pissed himself. Even Dylan’s eyes bugged out. Jack leveled the wings and climbed to about 500 feet. The engine whining as it pulled the plane skyward. Looking out the windows all the guys saw was the green of the steep mountain slopes all around them. “Not enough height, yet,” Jack advised. Jack responded by making another tight loop, banking hard and deep over the far eastern edge of the lake, the plane felt like it was laying on its side.

“It’s a tight turn,” Jack said as he controlled the plane. As soon as he was out of the turn, he pulled back and the nose went upward, again. A hard vibration of turbulence hit the plane as it crested the ridge, caused by the wind crossing over the ridge.

Ben took a deep swig of beer. “It was pretty cool,” he admitted. “Sitting here now,” he added. Erik laughed. It was an amazing night, a crescent moon hung just over the lake’s eastern shore, shooting rays of golden moonlight across the nearly flat water. A campfire was going on the shore down the way. The sky was dark, but for the moon, but the stars were brilliantly on display. The Big Dipper looked like you could reach up and touch it.

“Amazing sky,” Erik said as he laid back on the Pontoon Boat’s lounger seat. As he did, his T-shirt rode up on his waist revealing his swimsuit, catching Ben’s eye. Dylan, like his brother, was more interested in the stars, far more visible in the darkness of the wilderness than back at home. As the two brothers called out what they were seeing in the crystal night sky, Ben’s hand wandered to touch the side of Erik’s upper leg. Ben had other ideas on how to spend the night. Erik shared the same idea, and his body instantly reacted to Ben’s touch.

“This would be the ideal romantic night,” Dylan shifted the subject. “A candle, some liquor, and a cute girl…” he trailed off. Erik agreed, at least on most of what he said. “Damn, I just gave myself a boner,” Dylan laughed, grabbing an unopened beer and popping the top. It was his second, maybe third, but no one was counting. He sucked in a big swallow. His shorts were tented out, he really had gotten himself all excited.

Ben’s hand had wandered to the backside of Erik, his fingers nestled in the little indent at the base of Erik’s spine, where his back met his butt, and his tight suit created a cute little crevice. They were silent again, listening to the gentle ripples of the silent lake. An occasional fish would jump in the water, creating a soft splash. In the distance, the sounds of a faint motor and the telltale red and green lights of a Pontoon boat making its way in the night, probably a couple going to the town for dinner. A loon called out loudly into the night sky, breaking the silence.

“Let’s get some dinner,” Dylan proposed, standing. His shorts still very much tented, he tugged on the legs to reduce the obvious protruding front.

“Sounds like a plan,” Ben responded. Erik and Ben also stood. They grabbed their bottles and headed in. Erik was still wildly horny from the earlier excitement that he did not get to complete.

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Small lake towns at the top of Maine are anything but resort locations with an oasis of dining options. The town boasted a general store that was also the gas station, post office and bakery. One small restaurant on the water was the big draw, mostly by boat, but with a small parking lot for those who drove. The pizza place was the nightly hot spot for the younger crowd, with a bar that had local bands on limited Saturday nights, but was mostly a place to play darts, pool, and get in the occasional fight. It was in a single story building that looked more like a car repair place than it did a pizza place, but it served its purpose.

The three handsome young men entered, immediately catching the attention of the local crowd of about twenty regulars, all seemingly in their twenties, as well. It was mostly guys, all in jeans, all with work boots, and all built like the loggers they were. About six ladies were mixed in, all in tight jeans and even tighter tops, looking to do more than just have a beer with the boys. Fresh merchandise always grabbed their attention, and the three new young men were no exception. They also were clearly not from here, a ticket out in the eyes of the local ladies. Dylan fit in the most with worn Levi jeans, zipper front rather than the traditional button fly, a tattered shirt that had seen better days and a baseball cap over his shaggy, uncombed hair. Ben also had on jeans, but his were clearly new, unscuffed by the hazards of life, and a clean polo shirt. Erik was the most daring, with shorts, albeit longer legged than what he usually wore, and a bright yellow shirt that stood out like the sun peeking through a cloudy day. But, for Ben and Erik, what they had on the outside covered two fresh, form fitting swimsuits. The tightness of the new suit was keeping Erik on the cusp of arousal, maybe even pushing him over, based on the bulge that was showing through his somewhat tight shorts.

After the brief pause that came when “outsiders” entered, the crowd resumed their activity as he guys grabbed an open booth and ordered a round of beers. The server asked for ID’s, but she wasn’t really concerned about age, she just wanted to see where they were from, especially the cute one in the baseball cap. Erik and Ben sat on one side, Dylan the other. All the while the server flirted with Dylan, Ben was rubbing his hand between Erik’s legs, even poking a bit up under his shorts. Nothing obvious, but enough to make Erik bone up pretty strong.

“We don’t get many southerners up here,” said the server, who was also dressed in tight jeans and a T-shirt that broadcasted the Pizza and Bar.

“Yeah, guess not,” replied Dylan, ‘but we’re here,” he added with a cute smile. Erik knew from how he was acing that is brother thought she was cute. Her name was Sara, she lived up in Fort Kent all of her life and had never been further away than Boston. She introduced them to the whole bar. Turns out the crowd was not as anti-outsider as it first appeared. After Sara’s introduction, the now more lively crowd embraced the new visitors and they engaged in various rounds of pool, darts and assorted small talk.

Brad immediately took notice to the three guys as soon as they walked in. Something inside him immediately triggered, especially for the two the guy in the newer jeans and the even more for the one in shorts. Brad’s radar sense immediately knew that they were worth getting to know. Brad was a local kid, although kid is the wrong term. He was now a student at Rhode Island School of design, a sculpture major with a real knack for contemporary art. To the crowd he was a nice kid, a bit shy and more of a loner. He was incredibly handsome, however, which drove the ladies wild, especially since he never seemed interested and never had been seen with a date, at least not as the local crowd defined dates.