Mark and Me – Part 1
[In which Mark and Cam graduate from high school and Mark wets his pants.]
All through high school the other kids referred to Mark and me as the “twins” – yeah, we did look a little alike with our trim builds, blond hair and blue eyes, even though Mark was several inches taller than I was – but it probably had more to do with the fact that we had been best friends for as long as I could remember – double dating, going out for the same sports (cross country, gymnastics and swimming) and just generally hanging out together – so that wherever Mark was, I was probably by his side, and vice versa. Oh, and there was one other thing that Mark and I shared – we had both been “slow starters” and had been held back from moving on to the next grade twice when we were young. But after the slow start we had settled down and were doing pretty well in school now – so the only real result was that we were a couple of years older than most of the other kids in our class – Mark had just turned twenty and I was only four months behind him.
There was one thing about Mark that I found a little strange, or maybe just curious, and that was that he had this fascination with, uh, well, what I can best describe as “bodily fluids.” Back in middle school when we were playing Little League baseball, Mark had the nickname of “spits” because – well, he was always spitting. And while there was never a formal competition he was pretty good at it – able to lob a good one five feet. And then there was the time he started a spitting contest in the dugout that got a little out of hand and turned into a spitting war that really pissed off the coach and got Mark suspended for two games.
A couple of years later when we were at Boy Scout camp in the summer, Mark was obsessed with how far he could pee. Like he’d drink all this liquid and get his bladder really full and then he wasn’t ashamed of stepping off to the side of the trail we were hiking along, waiting to make sure none of the leaders were looking, and then unzipping his fly, pulling out his dick, and then sending a long stream of yellow liquid arching through the air to splash to the ground a good four or five feet away. There were even a couple of times when he talked some of the other guys into having a pissing contest to see who could shoot the farthest. Mark generally won those contests.
Mark did go a little too far when he tried to talk some of the guys into having a jerk-off contest in the showers after Phys. Ed. class to see who could shoot the farthest when they came. The guys just kind of looked at him, like, “Man, are you crazy or something?” Even though Mark’s my best friend I had to agree with them that while I like to jerk off at least once a day, I do it in private, usually during my morning shower, and not if front of anyone else.
I think it was fairly early in our Senior year when we were getting dressed in the locker room after Gymnastics Team practice that I noticed that Mark’s Jockey briefs were really stained yellow in the crotch. Like, I don’t usually check the other guys out like that, and I’m certainly not one to get worried about a few stains on my underwear, but Mark happened to be standing up next to me as I was sitting on a bench and his crotch was, like, right next to me and at eye level so I couldn’t help but notice the dark stains.
As our Senior year progressed, Mark and I were arguing (in a friendly sort of way) about what we wanted to do after graduation. Well, not what we wanted to do right after graduation – we both wanted to take the summer off and party and relax – but what we wanted to do in the fall. We both wanted to go on to college, and being best friends we wanted to go to the same school – but beyond that we couldn’t agree. So by default we finally agreed that we’d spend the first year in a nearby 2-year state school – it wouldn’t be too expensive and we could transfer our credits to a 4-year school after we made up our minds what we wanted to major in.
Mark was over at my house last night and we were sitting in the family room watching TV. I got up to get some chips and soda and when I returned, I just happened to notice that there was a small damp spot in Mark’s crotch. I guess he must have noticed me staring at him as he asked, “So, what’re you staring at Cam?”
“Uh, oh, um, nothing really”, I said, and then blurted out, “But your jeans look a little wet.”
“Oh, yeah”, Mark responded, “When I went to the bathroom I think I dribbled a little. Why? Does it bother you?”
“No big deal”, I answered and we went back to watching the TV but I did notice that after a couple of minutes Mark moved one of his hands over and used it to cover up the damp spot.
The funny thing was that after that first time I’d occasionally notice that Mark had a damp spot on the front of his jeans. Like, it wasn’t really all that noticeable and if I hadn’t seen it that first time I probably wouldn’t have noticed it on the other times. But if he were dribbling when he went to the bathroom, he was doing it pretty frequently.
The funny thing about graduation was that I figured that, what the heck, it was just another stupid ceremony but when I heard the Superintendant of Schools call out “Cameron Simmons”, and I walked across the stage to get my diploma, and I could hear my parents and friends clapping and cheering, it suddenly struck me that this was it. I’d graduated from high school, and I was going to move into a new phase of my life. Now, I didn’t break down and cry or anything but I did choke up a little. When I located Mark in the crunch of people after the ceremony I said, “Man, let’s ditch these hot gowns and get out of here.”
“Uh, Cam”, he said, “I, uh, can’t take off my robe here with all these people around.” And then, making sure that no one nearby was looking at us, he pulled his gown open a little to expose the front of his chinos, and continued, “I, um, got so excited that I pissed my pants”, and he blushed.
Looking at the large wet spot in his crotch I could see that he wasn’t exaggerating and I just said, “Whatever, let’s swing by your house and then go get a pizza or something.” And neither of us said anything else about Mark’s accident.
[to be continued]