All night long I laid there in my bed trembling as I could feel his nasty old tool still lodged deep in my bowels. I turned from my stomach to my side and felt more of Gilbert's substance ooze from my anus over my butt cheek and on to the sheets. The next day as I left school, I decided to go down one of the side streets and avoid passing Gilbert's house. Just as I passed the packaged store, Gilbert stepped out with a bottle of beer in his hand and looked at me, smiled and said '...well, well, well, you couldn't find me and came looking for me. You know I was gonna let you get by today and rest up but since you're here let's go and get busy...' Gilbert placed his right hand around my shoulders and pinched my shoulder blade firmly causing me to whence in pain. Gilbert didn't look at me but said harshly '...keep walking and don't make a fuss we gonna get in the house and have our selves some real fun...' Once we were in Gilbert's room his hands were all over me pinching and kneading. The water was a balmy 86 degrees, comforting actually, despite the dangerous trap. High tide had sprung up. The water had consumed the beach. The pounding break had moved closer until we had found refuge in the shelter of a little cove. A six foot patch of deep water that had me paddling and holding onto the air mattress was protected from the waves by a small sandbar. While my body dipped up and down soothingly with the ocean, I watched the waves, powerful creatures. Their curves were so perfect. They stacked themselves high. The face built up. I could feel their angle ever so gently reach the tipping point. From hours of experience in the ocean, their power was palpable in my body memories of being lifted up by waves, pulled, torn, whacked around only for me to emerge victoriously with one hand stretched over head, riding that beast, shooting through the water and holding my breath. My lungs were being squeezed of oxygen, while the exhilaration of the ride fueled me. With every.
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