at these frat-dudes seemed to all share. I wasn’t sure if it was a “guy thing”, a “bi-thing”, or a “shy-thing”, but whatever it was……nobody was gonalking about the “gay-things” we all were just engaged in. It bugged me in a strange way, but if I wao be included, which I really did, I’d have to “play” along. After aen minutes of random versation, we all returo our respective vehicles and tinued our trek towards Lake Cachuma.
We reached our destination as the sun still shone brightly in the western sky. It was still early in the camping/RV season and we were fortuo have a fairly secluded hook-up sight close to the lake, but away from the few other holiday campers due to the large size of Brian’s parents’ RV. We all were assigasks by Dave and Mike, includiing up a few tents far enough away from the RV to allow for some “privacy” even amongst each other. These guys thought of everything. This wasn’t my first “frat-dude” camping trip, so I kind of khe drill. The tents were used for those times when two or more of the dudes would slip off and want to do some “expl” of their “curiosities”. What a bunch of in-denial closeted fags. But, who am I to plain…..frat-meat was on the menu tonight and the night and I was hungry. I had my wood collected, tent pitched, and fishing pole s done and started helping Jonnie and Brian preparing dinner and building our first camp fire. By the time the sun was setting we had already polished off a feast of a steak dinner and several bottles of beer, each, aled in for romised to be a very bromo-erotic evening.
We all sat he r campfire, after dinner, playing cards and shooting the shit. At one point, the tequila bottle appeared. That was my queue for “things are about to get iing”. Big brother Dave poured everybody a healthy shot and toasted his fellow frat-bro’s as he slugged back the first of many shots to e. The hard liquor was a critical part of the whole ritual. The druhey got, the closer we all got to “getting busy”. Within