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“Don’t lay eggs, and I don’t fly either,” he says and then adds. “Well, I do. Metaphorically, when I’m high. But I don’t like actual flying, and I’ll never get on a plane again if I can help it.”
I store that little nugget away in my head for later. I’m sure I’ll probably forget once I’m sober, but right now, it doesn’t matter. I just want to take these constricting boxers off and roll around in the sand. I want to become a crab.
“Where are you going?” Holden says as I kick my boxers off and tilt my face up to the moon. I feel like howling, like becoming a wolf and running through the trees.
“What was in that bong?” Holden asks as I make my way toward the jungle. I am going to become a cougar. I’m gonna live off the land. Find that fucking monkey and tame him.
The tamer of apes.
I hear mumbled conversations behind me as I walk. God, this feels nice. Just my dick swinging in the breeze, the air on my hidden bits. I can see why they do nude nights. I want to be nude every day. I just want to walk around in my skin. Who needs clothes? What an inconvenience.
I trip on a root and nearly face plant but manage to right myself, the jungle calling to me. I glance up and see the leaves swaying in the night breeze. I could shimmy up a tree and find a coconut, could carve a hole in the top and smoke a bong all day long. Just become a wisp of smoke…
“Chase,” a voice says behind me, and I turn to see who is calling to me.
It’s Holden, looking ethereal in the moonbeams. He looks like an angel.
“Come back,” he says with a small laugh, jogging up to me. My eyes swivel down to his swinging cock, and I wet my dry lips.
Fuck, I’m thirsty.
“God, you were not this high the other night,” he says, and I shake my head.
“I was not. I played football,” I say, feeling the sudden urge to tell him that. He grabs my arm, and I feel a burst of longing. So damn silly.
“You’re only wearing one flip-flop, you’re gonna hurt yourself if you walk around in the jungle like this.”
I glance down and see my one flip-flop hanging on to my toes.
“They’re best friends. The other shoe abandoned us. It’s gone. There’s no hope….”
He chuckles and pulls me back toward the small beach bonfire, and I let him guide me, my eyes searching for some water. Damn, I’m thirsty. I glance at the ocean and wonder if I should take a swim when a bottle is placed in my hands.
“Drink up,” Holden says, and I press the uncapped bottle to my lips and gulp it down, already feeling a hundred times better.
“Better?” he asks, and I bob my head.
“Yep.”
A loud, rumbling burp escapes my lips, and Holden arches an eyebrow at me.
“Impressive.”
“Should see me when I drink soda. Sounds like a tuba.”
Laughter bursts from him, and he shakes his head. “Come on, Tuba. Come sit down with me. I gotta keep my eye on you. Make sure you don’t wander off.”
I feel something slide through me at his thoughtfulness, but it’s replaced with heavy desire once he sinks down next to me on a towel and puts his legs over mine. Our bare thighs are connected, and I can see his cock perfectly from this angle. It’s nice and long and half-hard. Maybe he likes seeing me naked. Maybe he likes how I look.
“Want another hit or will you try to become one with the dolphins?”
“I am an avid swimmer. People said I was part merman. So there’s a chance I could hear the ocean calling me home.”
He rolls his eyes and then takes a hit off the coconut bong, but doesn’t offer it to me. Probably for the best. I still feel like I’m floating.
I glance down at my dick and see it hard and bobbing in the wind. Seems that’s floating too.
Wants to float right into a hole and make port.
