Teaching Floris

by Robbieie, Netherlands, 17th July

I slowly woke from a deep satisfying sleep and it lasted moments before I realised I was looking at the sleeping face of Floris who had his arms clinged tightly around me.

Though I didn’t want to wake him, I appearently made some movement because he started to stir. I noticed for the first time something that soon turned out to be his normal way of waking. Instead of opening both his eyes he first opens his right one, always the right one first, then he wriggles his nose, and only then the left eye opens too.

“Hiii cutie” he smiled “slept well?”

“Heavenly” I mumbled and kissed him.

He kissed me back and we had the first “dry” sex in a bed for the first time in days. It was beautiful.

“If you plunge in the shower first, I’ll make breakfast” I said.

“Cool! breakfast! I’m starving” Floris called, took a towel from the floor and went for the shower in his pyjamas.

I went to the kitchen where I found the left over choco-muffins and also a half-eaten choco-egg that I had last easter. The fridge also held two and a half salt-herrings, and coffee and coke completed this royal breakfast.

Floris took his time but finally came into the kitchen, dreadfully awake, wearing just his training-pants he had had on yeaterday. He looked around and at the table with my breakfast on it and asked:

“So where’s the breakfast?”

I looked at the table and he said: “Noo, you’re kidding, where are the eggs and the bread?”

I pointed at the half choco-egg and said: “There is the egg, but I’m out of bread, I’ll buy some tonight.”

He shook his head and sat down.

“Are you free today?” I asked him.

“Yea,” he said “only training tonight, but i’m reluctant to go.”

“Why? Because of yesterday? They’re not back yet?” I said, referring to Alex and Jurgen, whom we played a dirty trick yesterday.

“No, not till tomorrow, but I still feel anxious about it.”

“Heey loverboy, what’s done is done, just leave it behind you now. Go training.”

“Okay, you’re right I guess,” but he sounded just half-convinced.

“Hey cutie, you remember what we said yesterday about being open about us?” he reminded me.

“Yea, euh, yea.”

“No second thoughts?” he pushed.

“Eueh..euh.. nooo.”

“Deal? I won’t interfere at all any more with the brothers van n. , and you start being a bit more honest with the people around you, okay?”

I nodded and hoped I could do this.

“We’ll help each other” he promised and then my phone went off.

the unknown number again that tried so often yesterday. now I answered it. “hi robbie here” “hii robbie, Sebastiaan here” Sebastiaan? who the hell is Sebastiaan? never heard of him… “eueh.. hello…” I said as friendly as I could manage at 10am “hii, you do remember me, do you? from the jetty diving a few days ago…” Sebastiaan! of course! Sebastiaan with his grey eyes and his red trainings-jacket. “yea sure, I knew at once who you are” I lied. “how are you?”he asked “great, actually super-great” I smiled looking at Floris who was checking all the cupboards for some more traditional breakfast-food. “is your friend there with you?” Sebastiaan asked shyly. “how on earth do you…” I started before realizing he meant Martijn. “no, Martijn is not here? why?” “ooh, hmmz nothing.” “it’s a beautiful sunny day” I said “are you not going jetty-diving with your friends?” “no, they wanted to go to the tracktor-races in b.” he said sadly. “but you didn’t come with them?” “hmm noo, I want to go swimming, but it’s no fun alone. and since you two seemed to enjoy the plunging I thought maybe, eueuh you would like to meet this afternoon?”

i told him I was not completely free today, looking at Floris who had found an old can with small sausages in it and tried to open it with my can-opener that dates from 1921. or so. “ready to continue your lessons today?” I winced at him. he nodded and kept on forcing the can “who is he?” he mouthed “Sebastiaan, i’ll tell you later.” “cute?” i nodded wildly which earned me a big grin. “yea, okay, i’ll bring Floris, okay?” “who is Floris?” “a friend of mine” I replied, but saw Floris looking at me with an encouraging look. “eueuh he is my friend” I stuttered. “c’mon” Floris flustered. i coughed and managed: “Floris is my boyfriend, my lover” and almost pushed the disconnect-buton from fright. “ooooh” Sebastiaan flustered “oooh… I thought you were with Martijn…”

now did that sound a little relieved?? I started to get some suspicions about this Sebastiaan. “noo, noo, you got it wrong, he is not with me, he...” “will you call him if he’s coming too this afternoon?” Sebastiaan asked very shyly. “why don’t you call him yourself?” I asked him, “you got his number too, don’t you?” “noo, you know him much better, you ask him please?”

man, should I tell the poor kiddo that Martijn is not at all interested in guys? “look Sebastiaan, if I am going to tell Martijn that you asked me to ask him if…” Sebastiaan interrupted me: “noo, don’t tell him I asked. there is a fair in s. with all the attractions near the canal and bridges. if you three go there I “accidently” meet you and then we can go chill at the lake next to it.” “but if it’s meant to be accidental, you can’t bring a towel or shorts” I warned him. “i know” he said, “mum is still a bit sour about last time…”

at that moment the sausages-can gave in with a huge splash of the liquid that held the things. and of course the splash landed all over Floris and one of the last dry and clean pants in the house. he looked surprised and then yelled: “yuck!! they’re spoiled” and ran to the bathroom. “what’s going on there?” Sebastiaan demanded . I barely could speak from laughter. “i’ll tell you this afternoon” I promised. “have to leave now. okay, you won, i’ll phone Martijn, but I don’t know what’s in his agenda, I can’t promise you anything” “yea! cool! thanks” Sebastiaan yelled. “2pm at the fair?” I asked “i’ll be there” “must go now, see ya” and I disconnected.

i ran to the bathroom where my love was standing under the shower in his pants, trying to clean them with shampoo. wich didn’t do the trick. i joined him under the water-jets in my t-shirt and boxer-short. we kissed and while stroking my soaked tshirt he asked: “who is this Sebastiaan?” “well, remember I told you I went jetty-diving with Martijn a few days ago?” “yea sure, that earned you the two jeans you talked him out of” “they don’t fit him anymore. but anyways, there were some more guys that we met, and Sebastiaan is one of them. his friends decided on a dry day but he wanted to get wet. and he has a crushS for Martijn” “Martijn? but you told me he is as straight as a dutch pasture-ditch.” “he is” “hihi poor Sebastiaan” giggled Floris. ”but cute, you said?” “oi yes, ‘a dream-boy’ was the first thing I thought when I saw him”

“don’t you think I am a learned clothes-swimmer by now?” Floris asked, pushing his hard-on in the trainings-pants against my boxer. “noooways, you’re learning fast, but there’s much more to experience” “like what, what are you going to teach me today” he sighed in my ear. “i am almost out of clothes, everything is at your room or floats in the tub at your parents house. we’ll go buy clothes and go swimming in them immediately this afternoon. and there is a fair also” “oi, i’m a bit out of money now, I don’t know if I can…” “stop it! you get them from me, a little gift” “no man, you don’t have to pay for my clothes” “yes, I do”, I grinned holding him tight to me ”next week I have to work a few nights for the catering, that’ll pay for it. besides, you’re doing a course, and this is lesson-material”

we kissed and glibbered with shampoo until we came together, like in the same breath. we ruffed each other dry, found some clean boxer-shorts. I put on the gstar I got from Martijn, but the other jeans didn’t fit Floris, so he had to resort to wide knee-long shorts.

in the kitchen I poured some more coffee. then I phoned Martijn: “eeyz, what’s up? you’re busy this afternoon? or do you like to meet Floris?” he was free and we agreed Floris and I would show up at 1.15 at his place so we could drive to the fair in his car. I felt a little bit guilty about it but heey, we just went to the fair on a warm day and if Sebastiaan would get Martijn in the water again, well, all the more fun.

“i was proud of you, when you told this Sebastiaan I am your lover” Floris said. “yea man, I was very anxious, but heey, I barely know the guy. and it was on the phone, don’t know if I can do it face to face” “you can” he said taking my hand and caressing my cheek.

at that moment wouter, my room-mate, as usual simultaniously gave one knock on my door and thundered in. “hii” he started and then saw Floris in just the shorts holding my hand and stroking my cheek. “ohw sorry, I see you have company” but didn’t leave, the sneek. I felt the blush burning my cheeks. “oohw eeh … hi wouter, yea, this is Floris” Floris squeezed my hand a bit and I looked at him, sweat on my upper-lip. “eueuh… my friend Floris” another little squeeze. “like in my boyfriend Floris” I stammered. “hi, i’m Floris” the boyfriend said and offered his hand. “erwin, i’m robbie’s room-mate” then turning to me again: “robbie! finally! lately you started to look somewhat forlorn and lonely. time you chose a mate. but i’m off again, just wanted to see if you’re in tonight for a beer, but I think you rather…” “no it’s okay, Floris is training tonight so come over for a drink” “see you tonight then” and wouter was off again.

i hicked and watched him leave with my mouth open, but very relieved by his reaction. “man, what a whirl-wind, you figure he forgot to take his pills?” Floris giggled. “aww c’mon, he is a really nice guy, a bit busy maybe, but…” “if you call that ‘a bit busy’ I guess you call the traffic in rome a pool of serenity” “how would I know, i’ve never been in rome…” “never in italy?” “nope, we always went camping in boerenkoolstronkeradeel, just across the border with frisia. and once we went visiting some of mum’s relatives in israel, but that was barely a holiday for me, sitting up all day with old people I didn’t know.” “oooh we’ll go to italy, the two of us, it’ll be heaven, you’ll love it” “come, let’s plunder the shops” I cried. we shot on some t-shirts and shoes, I grabbed my sun-glasses and by scooter drove to the town-center, where the cool shops are.

after some hesitating Floris choose a blue t-shirt with the mummy-boy printed on it kicking a soccer-ball. with it red jeans that were (again) very skinnie on him. not that I minded of course hehe. he found he needed a belt also and took a black leather one with silvery metal knots on it. and put it on so loose it was useless. not that these skinnies needed to be hold up, but I had to admit it looked hot. since Floris had trashed my black skinnies during the canoe-day I wanted again something likewise, and ended up with ink-black extra slim nudies. they were a bit more expensive than I planned to spend, but I wanted to feel why Floris is such a nudies-fan, I never had one myself. of course Floris was delighted with this choice. further I took a green sleeveless t-shirt, all splattered with white paint. we kept our new clothes on, putting the old ones in the compartment under my saddle. red lonsdale-shoes for me, and white sneakers for Floris. and then he insisted on buying me a “real” breakfast in a bar.

after that was finished (what on earth do people love about bread in the morning??) we drove by my place to dump the old clothes and continued to Martijn’s place. he was already outside brushing his car and waved when he saw us coming. I immediately got a little more sorry for him since he was wearing dark-bluejeans, the tight legs rolled up a bit, that looked new, just like his black & yellow sneakers. I knew, or at least hoped, they wouldn’t return home dry and clean.

“hi robbie, been painting your house white?” he joked looking at the paint-splattered tshirt I had. “it is my new tshirt” I grrmbled. “say hi to Floris” he shook hands with my boy and we babbled a bit. “can I drive your car?” I asked him. no problem so we hopped in and I cruised south-west to s. this is a town built almost exclusively on both sides of a large canal. as we approached it the traffic got more dense. “i got the feeling more people are coming to s. to enjoy the weather and the fair” I remarked, just evading some kids on bicycles, playing and goating, and not watching the passing traffic. I honked the claxon a few times wich earned me the finger and some sneers of the sweeties. tsss, today’s youth…

i drove all through the town without finding a place to park the old vehicle until I found a spot just out of the little town, almost next to the little lake that Sebastiaan had mentioned on the phone. well, that suited my plans too (gna gna) so I parked, got the ticket from the machine, and we strolled into s. the noise was overwhelming, every attraction had his own music, turned up to maximum volume, and through all that I heard an amplified voice yelling in a microphone about there being still some vacancy for the jeans-hanging game to be held in half an hour.

“wow, let’s check that out” I called. Martijn looked dubious. “i’m not participating” he announced. “i wear brand-new jeans” “yea! they’re cool” Floris said, stroking Martijn’s leg with his hand. unbelievable how he manages everytime to touch guys that are strangers to him and get away with it. wish I had that talent. “what brand are they?” Floris asked. “superdry” Martijn answered. “hihi the optimists” I giggled. “by the way my jeans are newer than yours, only three hours old or so, and I am going to participate I think. I think I will beat Floris to it” “you are going to jeans-hang too? in those red jeans?” a stunned Martijn asked Floris. “wow robbieboy, you are a better teacher than I thought. compliments” “sssht, shut up” I sissed to Martijn “does your loverboy recites poetry to you while shagging in some lake?” Martijn inquired of Floris, who didn’t understand these puns at all. “shut up!” I repeated. I was luckily saved from this embarrassing situation as we now saw a crane next to the canal with a bar hanging horizontally from it, and four pairs of jeans hanging from that. “there it is!” I called and guess who was already in line to pay the two euro to participate….

“heeeey, Martijn! robbie!” Sebastiaan clearly was a bad actor, he didn’t sound surprised at all. “heeey, the jetty-jumping boy! sorry, I forgot your name..” I tried to rescue the plot. “stupid, that’s Sebastiaan, he lent me his jacket, remember?” Martijn said, walking towards Sebastiaan to greet him. “Sebastiaan, yea, that’s it” I mumbled, seeing that Floris had trouble to keep his face straight. “Sebastiaan, meet my friend Floris, I told you about him..” “cute, indeed” mouthed my boy and then introduced himself properly to Sebastiaan, his eyes wandering over Sebastiaan’s red-purple barca-shirt and his white adidaspants with dark-blue stripes, his black hair and those unbelievable grey eyes.

“let’s all participate in the jeans-hanging, ask if we can have the same shift, they have exactly four jeans, perfect!” Sebastiaan yelled. “i’m not participating, I wear my new…” Martijn started again. we interrupted him all three at exactly the same instant. Floris: “me too, so what?” me: “aahw sissie, c’mon, it’s just water…” Sebastiaan: “noo, you have to join us. I dare you!” that did the trick. Martijn looked at me accusingly. “robbie, you are a disaster! lately everytime we meet you manage to get me in the water with jeans on” he mock-rebuked me. “it was only once, and you told me you liked it too” I defended myself. “sure, and this is the second time in just four days” “come on! don’t hesitate so long, the tickets will all be gone before you know it” Sebastiaan yelled at us from the short waiting-line.

i saw a little flicker of hope in Martijn’s eyes that Floris and me drowned immediately by pulling him with us to the ticket-stall. he sighed in resignation and let him be led to the line. “it’s my treat” announced Sebastiaan and bought four tickets, the money going to some charity-thing. though the game would start within half an hour, we had some more time to mentally prepare ourselves, as we were in the adult section and the kids would have their chance first. those boys and girls were happily twittering and running and sparring. they might need some time to work out their part before we could start, and since I was not really interested in kiddies in shorts, I proposed to walk around a bit before it was our time.

i hope for you that you are not familiar with what we call dutch-language-music. some oozy manager scouts amateur-singing-contests and picks the most dumb-looking men and women. then he visits an institution for the mentally ill and asks the more hopeless cases to produce him some texts with which he then goes to a kindergarten and asks the slowest toddler in class to improvise him a tune, which he records on his iphone, combines the lunatic texts with the toddler’s sing-song, then lets his “singer” blare something like it in a microphone, and with some final editing another masterpiece is born.

a sane person can barely stand to hear such a triumph of culture, five of them screaming simultaniously at you at full volume surpasses anything even clive barker could think of. so we fled to a little terrace behind a few houses that protected our ears a little. Martijn treated us on a cold beer. I was so proud of Floris who mixed, again, so easily with Sebastiaan and Martijn. I sat opposite Sebastiaan and noticed that his hand rubbed his dick everytime we anticipated who of us four would meet the water of the s. canal first . I suspected he imagined before his eyes all our clothes soaking wet, and when Martijn was recapturing the jetty-jumping and talking about his jeans being wet and clingy, I really saw Sebastiaan’s boystick poking up, barely hindered by his pants. I decided to provoke him a bit.

“cool pants you have Sebastiaan, I didn’t know they also have them so shiny also in white, just like the red ones of last time” “yea, they call it adidas chile” the cutie beamed. ”i got these for my birthday” “do you also have the matching jacket?” I asked him “yea, but it’s too sunny and warm for it now” “have you been swimming in these before?” I went on, now also getting rather hard at the prospective of seeing these pants clinging to his hornie ass. “no, and I think mum is going to strangle me for doing so today” he said cheerily. “you tell her we threw you in” Floris offered “are you all three involved in this clothes-swimming-business?” Martijn asked stunned. instantly all three heads turned to me. damn, that stupid blush again.

“what? me? i’m just a humble pupil” Floris muttered. “what? me? you and your friends do it all the time” I bounced the ball back to Sebastiaan. “what? me? no, we do it just a few times each summer” Sebastiaan said. “oi oi, in what company am i? hear him ‘just a few times each year’” Martijn shook his head in disbelief. “the last time I got my jeans wet was when I was a child and did the swimming-exam. and two years ago I went into the sea with an old tshirt on a few times because I was sunburnt. and now this loony here (looking at me) gets me wet two times in four days” “cool” Sebastiaan grinned, before reddening and pulling his shirt as far over his pants as he could.

the beers drunk, we decided it was time to see if we were due by now so we walked back to the canal. the kids had indeed finished and we saw a whole bunch of them running and shouting. it had the look of it that none had managed to stay dry. that looked promising! I saw Floris looking at a dashing boy of about twelve with light-brown hair plastered on his fore-head and almost as fair a skin as me. everything that clinged dripping to his body was white. wide white soccershorts, idem shirt, socks, soccer-shoes. through his shiny dripping shorts you could see that even his underwear was white. effectively I saw a wet, naked puber with some see-through clothes plastering his body. “wow, I hope to see him again in a few years” I flustered in Floris’ ear. he grinned and I saw some movement in his jeans. a brown boy just hauled himself out of the canal, wearing no shirt but light-blue jeans held up more or less by a white belt. he sopped to his friends in his white sneakers and I saw him argueing about something with them and then he and two of his mates returned to the water-edge. of the last two one had a baseball-shirt and one of those shiny long shorts that matched it, the other a white undershirt and tight grey pants. they started pushing each other around a bit, then the boy in the grey pants dove in, shoes and all, and then the basketballer was pulled into the canal by the first, already wet guy, who went in in the same movement. they emerged laughing and showing off and climbed some wooden structure in the water, dove off again, and after finally climbing back on again they sat on the structure to have a good seat for the upcoming show, drying up in the sunshine. which of course was useless, because they would have to swim back later on.

by now the participants for the game were assembling near the crane and we joined them. a quick survey of my opponents learned me that there were some real hot guys among them, though there were plenty among them that interested me less. dispite his bravour Floris started to get a little nervous. “are you sure these jeans will not loose all the red coulor?” “yea i’m very sure” “do you know that you should wear your nudies for at least half a year before washing them?” “i’m not going to wash them” and so on. then a guy started explaining the few rules. on shore you grabbed one of the jeans hanging from the bar and then the crane would rotate 90 degrees so the persons clutching their jeans would hang over the canal. as soon as the first two had had to let go, the crane would turn back and the two dry people got through to the next round where they would battle two winners of another group. winner was of course the last one dry, and he or she would receive a roasted turkey. when you were in the water you were out of the game.

the first team were four giggling and screaming girls. the watching crowd cheered them but I had more attention for Sebastiaan who hauled his left foot through the water in his orange/ blue soccershoe so the left leg of his pants was already streaming canal-water from the knee off. “it’s not cold!” he yelled. “watch out” I warned him “if you fall in you have lost before even hanging”

then four guys of, say eightteen, stepped on the little platform and each grabbed a pair of jeans. all four had on jeans and tshirt and shoes. one also had an open vest. it had the look of it that for them this was just as unplanned as for us. hmmz well, for Martijn at least. the crane swung over the canal again wich made one of the four immediately disappear in the canal with a cool parabole. the crowd got off and both Floris and Martijn got a little white around their noses. the remaining three had of course seen this happen and when the unfortunate diver emerged the guy with the vest got a laughing-fit and had to let go. quickly the crane rotated back and under big applause the two winners stepped to safety. their two friends climbed a ladder to the dry land, the water gushing off them. the boy in his vest tried with his hands to brush the water out of his jeans, but his streaming vest kept saturating them. the second one just looked at his clothes and shook some water out of his hair. “is it cold?” one of the guys just before us called to the two wetties. “no, it’s not that cold, just very wet” the vest-boy answered. “cool” I saw Sebastiaan mouthing in himself, unaware he was being watched. I must watch that boy, i’m sure he gets a kick out of this too.

the next four guys looked okay, but were poorly dressed in shorts. one had shoes and another one a tshirt, but it missed the blast of the previous team. the good news was that these last two won. then girls again, and when the next team, again four hot guys, partly clothed in pants and jeans, two with also a tshirt, started their turn we would be next. while these four bangled on the jeans, doing better than anyone till now, we put our wallets, iphones, keys and my sunglasses in a little deposit-box. the first guy went in, with a white and blue tshirt over his black skinnies. and soon the second one followed in beige pants and black shoes. applause and the crane rotated.

while the two winners were leaving the platform, Martijn bent over and started to unbend his shoe-lace. that was not the plan! I touched Sebastiaan and nodded in Martijn’s direction. he immediately understood my drift and we grabbed Martijn up and shoved him between us on the platform so he couldn’t get back. he looked sideways and saw the two boys of the previous team climb out, shiny with every movement. “i am crazy, absolutely nuts” he mumbled and then left it at that. Floris stepped on as last one and I tried the jeans I was supposed to go hanging on. it was not new. I wondered whose it could be, or have been? I looped the legs a few times around my arms and waited for the start.

at the very last moment Floris tried a final time: “oooh, i’ve forgotten to take off my new belt, it’s leather, it will get wet” i looked at him with a lazy smile. “yea, I know, that’s why we bought it” and off went the bar and we hung over the canal.

while Sebastiaan and I had just in time prevented Martijn to take off his sneakers, he had managed to unknot the laces of his right shoe, and it started to slide off his foot. I saw him panick and he tried to support the sliding sneaker with his left foot, but that made him hang unbalanced. the jeans he was holding on to was more worn than mine and he had not wrapped it around his arms, but was just gripping its legs. it started to rotate and swing a little by his unbalanced weight and he couldn’t hold. first the sneaker went down and revealed a donald duck-sock. “haha cute sock” I yelled. he looked at me and had to let go and went down. the splash he made was so high it soaked my left leg. I glanced left through the sudden gap at Sebastiaan and saw it had done the same to him, be it his right leg. his left one still hadn’t dried so he was wet now upwards to his crotch. now he was hanging his barca-shirt had crept up over his waistband and I saw that he very much enjoyed the situation. it looked even like he had no undies on. I hadn’t noticed before because his shirt was wide enough to easily cover the telling spots. would he really be that mad to go swimming in those shiny white revealing pants without any underwear? I noticed several people filming us and wondered if we could see ourselves on youtube in a few days.

my eyes couldn’t decide where to look, to Sebastiaan’s poking boytoy in those hot trackies, or to Martijn who was climbing the little ladder toward the dry land. like I had hoped “superdry” was somewhat optimistic. I bent a little to watch his ass as he stood there dripping on the ladder, and that spoiled my balance too, my arms glipped out of the jeans-leg-tangle and I bombed into the canal. when I emerged the public was cheering me and Martijn, and high above my head I saw the crane lifting Floris and Sebastiaan to dryness. Floris was laughing so hard that I suspected that if the crane had been a few seconds later, he would have been the third to go right after me. Martijn’s lost shoe floated just beside me so I grabbed it and yelled up that I had found it. Martijn’s dripping face looked down at me and since the other wet boys congratulated him and admired his “superdry” jeans, he was even able to smile a watery smile at me.

i poodled to the ladder and climbed out. I had already gotten wet in all kind of jeans, but I had to hand it to Floris, these nudies were incredible. they had gotten even blacker than they had been, and they clinged like mad all around my legs and ass. the canal-water gushed from my shirt over and into them and they were the inkiest shiny black. the guy with the vest that had been in one of the previous teams came to me and touched my shoulder. “hi, welcome to the losers-club” he laughed. “looks like you didn’t plan this too” he said and looked down my dripping new clothes. “just imagine” I said “i bought these just this morning, shoes and all” he looked shocked and laughed again. “wow, don’t you care?” “naaaw, that’s for girls” and we both grinned.

while the next and last team got ready Sebastiaan and Floris jumped off the platform. Floris ran to me and embraced me. “i won!” he yelled and flustered in my ear: “you look so sexy, I love you” i didn’t really dare kissing him so in public, but I clinged him to me and flustered back: “if you keep pushing yourself against me like this, you too will be soaked, winner or not” “i don’t care” he said, but loosened himself from my grip and looked at the front of his clothes, that had indeed gotten some large wet spots. he put his arm around my shoulder and we watched Sebastiaan who was admiring Martijn’s wet clothes with his grey eyes. now he was standing again, his shirt once more covered his stiffie and I flustered to Floris: “check Sebastiaan, I think he doesn’t wear undies” Floris’ eyes snapped to Sebastiaan, but couldn’t make it out. “just check him now and then, if he bends over or hangs on the jeans or so” “oooh I will, I will” Floris winced.

smooching like this we missed the game a bit untill the first victim of the last group already came climbing onshore in his dark-blue cotton jeans and white polo-shirt. “yo dennie” said the vest-boy who appearently knew him. “i hadn’t seen that you were here too” “and vincent is here too” dennie replied, pointing to a younger version of himself who was climbing out and shaking the water out of his dark-blond hair like a dog-puppy. “been swimming, vincent?” the vest-boy grinned. vincent grinned very insolently back. he took a dripping iphone out of the front-pocket of his loose light-bluejeans. “forgot the phone” he said. “don’t turn it back on! if you dry all the elements seperately it might be saved” dennie told his younger brother. they started getting busy opening the iphone and drying the battery and card on someone’s dry tshirt, but I didn’t think they would save it. “who else is in your team?” asked the vest-boy. “saïd and arthur, look, there they are” vincent answered and pointed to two twinkies, both in jeans, one skinnie and dark-blue, his friend’s lightgrey with a white belt. they were showing off that they had managed to stay dry so far. the winners got a bit more confident and arthur even put on the almost fluorescent yellow longsleeve tshirt he had gotten off before the hanging. and I didn’t hear Floris mention his new leather belt anymore, it just stayed on.

near to the construction where the three boys sat drying out were three old boats, half-submerged, but more or less still floating, secured by a few chains. “let’s watch it from there” I said to the “losers-club” when the remaining contestants were called towards the platform. the girls didn’t want to come and neither did the shorts-guys. the other eight of us dove back in and swam to the boats. on the rim of them you could sit comfortably with your feet in the canal and your ass in the luke-warm water that has leaked in the boats and filled them completely. we hauled ourselves up and sparred a bit, falling back in and so untill the game proceeded.

the first team hanging was now the two eightteen year-olds and the two girls who were absolutely no match for them. then came the shorts-boys and the two from the team before ours. all four looked fit and kept up longer then anyone before. the first of these to glide in was the shorts-boy with the black tshirt on. he lingered in the water near the ladder to see who would make the next round. it turned out his mate still could rescue the honour of his team, for the next to plunge down was the guy in lightbrown pants and a white tshirt and white sneakers. “thijs, come over here!” the guy in the beige pants yelled, and thijs hauled himself inbetween us. even Martijn looked like he had fun on the boats, all packed up tight together with now and then someone gliding off. and then finally Floris and Sebastiaan would battle saïd and arthur and we cheered them like madmen when they stepped on the platform. the crane rotated once more and took them over the water. these four also held up a considerable time. Sebastiaan slipped, but managed to keep hanging. saïd plunged down even wilder than Martijn had and paddled toward our boats. and then… I saw it happen, Floris lost his grip on the jeans, started swaying his legs (stupid, stupid…) and tumbled upside down in the canal. loud cheers and singing from the crowd. a shuffle started among some watchers and three guys fell in the canal without even the hope of a turkey.

“we are here” I called to my boy who ploughed through the water towards us. he hauled himself up and landed sitting on my lap. his red skinnies glistered a bright red in the sunshine. he lifted one foot out of the water and with his white sneaker he softly stroke my underleg. fucking blush again. he glided half off me so he now had one leg on me, one in the water and his ass on saïd’s leg who had wriggled himself between me and Martijn. thijs and his friend in the beige pants made it worse by standing up and rocking the boats.

six boys remaining and there were to be two teams of three. first the two eightteen year-old from the vest-boy’s original team would take on this arthur. he looked like a twinkie-softie, but he appeared stronger than the other two who one after the other splashed and were called to the boats who were overflowed with wet boys. then the turn was for Sebastiaan, thijs’friend in loose jeans and the shorts-boy with the shoes on. as soon as they hang properly Floris kicked me and flustered: “look at Sebastiaan” i saw what he meant. viewed so from downwards up Sebastiaan’s dick poked a tent in his white pants, and now I was positive, he wore nothing under them. Floris grinned and something throbbed in his wet jeans.. thijs’ friend fell first. we yelled and supported Sebastiaan as loud as we could. “go, silva!” yelled vincent. if it helped, I don’t know but he beat the shorts-guy who disappeared in the canal. we cheered like mad.

so the finale was to be between Sebastiaan and this arthur. who would have thought that of the little cutie. of course irony was at his best, dunking the resistant Martijn as first of us, and leaving the eager Sebastiaan dry. it was a close call, they fought long, Sebastiaan again slipped two times more, but it was arthur in his longsleeve-shirt who gave in. he splashed canal-water all over Sebastiaan who was hauled then in. we all dove back in and hurried to the ladder to congratulate the winner (and maybe let him taste some canal-water too). he was called to the platform where he received his turkey and was loudly cheered by the crowd. we climbed ashore and Floris, Martijn and me quickly went to the platform. Sebastiaan saw us appoaching and of course immediately understood his fate. he threw the turkey like a base-ball to an astonished Martijn who, o wonder, catched the thing. then Sebastiaan did a harlem-shake and back-flipped into the canal. the public roared and two more guys slipped into the water, meeting Sebastiaan there and cheering him. as he was climbing out his shirt hooked to some nail or so and he made a large rip in the lower frontside. we all four hugged and laughed.

it turned out that dennie, saïd, arthur and vincent were also going to chill a bit at the small lake where I had parked Martijn’s car, so we gathered our stuff from the deposit-box and walked there together. at the shore there was a sort of beach with a bar with tables outside. we ordered coffee and drinks and munched a bit from the turkey that Sebastiaan had won. it tasted worse than the canal-water, so most of it was left-over, despite we were with eight. dennie, vincent, saïd, Floris and me went to the shore and without putting anything off we waded into the lake, watched by surprised swimmers who hadn’t seen the jeans-hanging. i tackled Floris’ foot and he went under. I dove after him and underwater I stroke his belly under his floating mummie-tshirt. “idiot” he grinned and brushed the wet hair from my forehead, “you still wear your sunglasses, don’t loose them”

“let’s go buy some chips” I said and we walked out to our table and said we were going to get some chips and if anyone wanted something. only Sebastiaan and arthur wanted too and we said we would be back right away. we went to the snackbar next to where we were, but insted of going to the ordering-window, I pulled Floris with me to the back of it where public toilets were. I pushed Floris in one of them, joined him and locked the door. we kissed and I let my hands wander over his wet clothes and body. he put off my sunglasses and shove my tshirt over my stomach. he kissed me there while I clutched my knees around him. we opened our skinnies and shove them halfway our thighs and did a little starwars- force-fighting with our lightsabres. I shot him on his thigh and he shot on my boxers. we put theglibbery jeans back on and rubbed against each other.

when, half an hour later, we returned to our table, Sebastiaan’s and arthur’s eyes looked expectantly at us, and only then we realized we had forgotten the chips. blushing wildly I got very busy talking excuses but Martijn got up and said: “you are so hopeless robbie” and sighing deeply he went himself for the food.

a man, fifty plus, walked by wearing just a tiny swimmimg-thing. “haha I want one of them too” giggled Floris. “maybe alex van n. can provide you with one” I joked. “heeey” called Sebastiaan “do you know alex too? what a cool guy” i saw Floris lose it almost so under the table I grabbed his wet leg. “sort of” I quickly answered, “not very well, he trains with Floris” and shot my boy a pleading look. he shifted but said nothing. “wow, shall we ask him for swimming too sometime?” Sebastiaan pushed on. “well, we’ll see later okay?” I held off.

Martijn returned with a huge bag of chips and mayonaise and we snacked it all. arthur took one last dive, came out of the lake dripping and their team gathered to leave. we said goodbye and Martijn asked Floris how late his training began. that was at 7:30 so he said: “if you want a last dive today, now is the moment, I think we should leave in half an hour” Sebastiaan hesitated. “i’m almost dry now, maybe I shouldn’t go back in. maybe they won’t notice it at home this time” Floris and me looked at him and started laughing. his hair was a mess, his shirt was torn, his sneakers were still sopping and his beautiful white pants were all brown and yellow and green from the climbing ashore and the sitting and rolling in the sand and grass. and he hoped to get away with it… “what, what’s the pun?” he asked. “c’mon Sebastiaan, you look like you lived in a ditch for a week, who are you going to fool?” he looked at his clothes and grinned. “yea, you’re right I suppose. yolo!” and he ran into the water. even Martijn joined us, be it he had put off his shirt. finally we stood dripping at the shore. “how will you get home Sebastiaan” Martijn asked. “must I give you a lift?” Sebastiaan looked a bit sad. “no thanks man, i’m with my scooter” so we said goodbye and Sebastiaan walked back two times to confirm that we would contact soon. and then he drove by a few times on his scooter untill he finally was off.

Martijn put some plastic sheets he had in his car over the chairs and we got in. as soon as we were underway he asked me: “robbie, why didn’t you tell me Sebastiaan was meeting us?” “how would I know?” bang! blush again. “c’mon robbie, I don’t believe a word of that story, what is going on?” “aaahw Martijn, please, sorry, he called me this morning, asked if I could arrange a meeting, couldn’t deny him that, he is so hopelessly in love with you. and then Floris gushed the sausages-liquid all over himself and...” “what?!?” “haha yea, I checked it, it was fresh until Februari 2014, and then he…” “no man, the other thing, in love with me??” “don’t tell me you didn’t notice, he has eaten you hide and hair with his eyes. when you talked to him, he beamed”

Martijn went silent. “heey, just be a little bit kind to him when you talk to him” I pleaded “he is so cute” an alarming sniff from the backseat made me add hastily: “not half as cute as Floris of course but…” whereupon the cute Floris started batting my head with a newspaper he found. “why didn’t you tell me, robbie” Martijn repeated “i can’t give him what he wants” “no, I know, but he asked me not to tell you… you are not angry with me are you?” while driving Martijn shook his arm around my shoulder “no, I am not mad. just don’t know how to handle Sebastiaan” “we’ll think of something” I promised him.

we arrived at Martijn’s house, hugged, said goodbye and I drove Floris to his room by scooter. while I was driving he caressed my legs. “how do you like the nudies?” he asked “you were right, they’re great!” “told you” he grinned. “any chance you drop by after training?” I asked. “if you promise that you buy bread and cheese and eggs before going home”

the promise made I once more touched his cheek and drove away whistling…