My mate Dave by Tim Anders (revised)
Copyright Tim Anders © 1999, 2001
Based on events during the Australian summer holidays Dec/Jan 1989/90.
It seems that I'd become a bit difficult to handle since Dad shot through, earlier that year. I'd been very close to my dad, and I missed him, although (or maybe because) he believed in the character building value of the tanned backside, possibly to counteract Mum who somewhat indulged me, their only child. With Dad's control and restraint gone, I'd become a selfish teenager of 14, going on 15, testing the limits, and a veritable pain in the bum, no doubt due to insufficient pain ON the bum.
My marks at school had dropped badly, but I still excelled at sports (except swimming which I'd never learnt) and, while I was quite civilised with my teachers and most other people, I made Mum's life hell, specially when she took me to task about school. I must have nearly driven her crazy and I really feel bloody awful about it now, but she keeps saying I wasn't THAT bad. Well, that's Mum for you!
Anyway, some friends of Mum's, Roger and Sally, had a beach house and offered to take me off her hands for a few weeks that summer, more for her sake than mine. I had to promise to be extra well behaved, and that was no problem. I liked them both because they treated me more as an equal, instead of talking down to me or carping about school all the time.
Rodge and Sal were in their 40s, had no kids of their own and didn't really know what to do with me when we got there. Why they had a beach house, I'll never know. They hardly ever went to the beach, just lay in the garden, reading books. They did take me on a couple of drives around the area, which I thought was pretty uninteresting, and I must have shown it. After a few days, Roger said "this must be a bit boring for you, Tim. If you want to go down to the beach, that's fine by us. You are old enough, and I trust you not to get into strife. Just make sure you're back here before dark. You know when we usually eat. If you're not here, it'll be leftovers when you get in." Well, that suited me fine.
So, I spent my days mucking around on the beach. A few times, some other guys included me in their games, cricket, footy, soccer, volley, you name it. But then there always came the moment when they raced into the water for a swim. At first I pretended and paddled in the shallows. I must have been about the only boy around who couldn't swim. They soon found out and teased me about it, so I avoided them after that.
The place had a surf beach where everybody went, and a more sheltered back beach with usually only very few people. Some days I went "beachcombing" along the back beach, which seemed to stretch for miles and miles. Other times I went to the surf beach and perved on the lifesavers. They really did turn me on, and it always became so obvious, I usually ended up lying on my belly. There was something very _s_e_x_y about their camaraderie, the way they could touch each other, slapping backs, hugging, without anyone even raising an eyebrow. I was very envious because I desperately longed for someone to touch, to hug - oh, I didn't know what I really wanted, but I would have loved to join them. Somehow the occasion to learn to swim had never arisen, and by now I was a bit scared of water.
There were also a few jetties near the yacht club, where I sometimes went to watch the fishermen. Some were quite friendly and talked to me. One even showed me how to handle a rod and let me try my hand with one of his, which was pretty big of him. They are usually very particular with their fishing rods.
One day we had a really high tide, the sea was a bit rough, and there was nobody on the jetty. I walked right to the end and stood there, enjoying the scene. Strangely, although I was scared of being in the water, I really loved the smell of the sea and the feel of a strong wind blowing against my body. Suddenly, a few of the guys I'd been playing ball with, came running along the jetty and jumped off the end. One of them yelled "you scared or something," and gave me a push. Next thing I knew, I was in the water and couldn't feel any ground under my feet. I panicked, screamed and thrashed around, terrified I was going to drown. Suddenly, although it seemed an eternity of panic, David was there.
He was one of the boys who'd just jumped in. When he realised what had happened and I really was in trouble, he came to the rescue. I was so terrified and struggled, making it almost impossible for him to pull me out. He slapped me really hard and yelled to keep still and shut up, and eventually he managed to get me ashore.
Having made sure I was allright, because I'd swallowed a lot of water, he started looking for the one who'd thrown me in, but they'd all got out in a hurry and made for the hills. Dave yelled some abuse after them and said to me "Don't worry, mate, I'll get him later."
He then sat beside me on the sand, put his hand on my shoulder and said "you ok. now, mate?" I nodded, still shaking, but suddenly I felt so safe, wishing he'd stay with me forever, and that's probably when I fell in love with him. "What's your name?" he wanted to know.
"Tim," I stuttered.
"I'm Dave."
Although I'd nearly drowned, this had to be my lucky day. My rescuer had not only won several swimming championships at school, he was a hunk with beautiful dark brown hair and really deep blue eyes. Apart from feeling grateful, there was something much more powerful stirring inside me. I was still a bit confused about my _s_e_x_uality. I got on well with girls, even to the point of a kiss and some fumbling attempts at other explorations, but I also knew that good looking boys really turned me on, especially when they were a bit older. I hadn't really admitted that to myself yet, and I still was confused what it all meant. All I knew at that moment was that I wanted him to put his arms around me and hold me tight.
Dave couldn't believe that someone my age was unable to at least stay afloat in the water. He asked why I couldn't swim, and I didn't know. I enjoyed all sports, but somehow I'd missed out on swimming. But then, my parents can't swim either, and we never went to the beach.
David said everybody ought to be able to swim, not only to avoid accidents like this, but it was also great exercise for the whole body. Seeing him in his tiny bathers was proof enough, it had to be good for the body! So, when he offered to teach me to swim, I jumped at the chance. How lucky could I get? Having this gorgeous hunk actually caring about me made me feel all warm and fuzzy. My trust in him was so complete, I'd have done anything for and with him. I knew he'd even help me get rid of my fear of water.
"Well, I suppose we'd better get you home, then," he said, "you've had a bit of a day!"
"Can't we wait a bit," I asked. I wanted this to last just a little longer here on the beach with Dave.
"No way," he said, "you've had a big scare, and you've got the shakes already. I'm taking you home."
"I feel really quite ok. now," I lied, as I was still shaking.
"I said HOME! Where are your folks staying?"
I was in the middle of explaining that they were not my folks, and where their house was, when I must have had by some kind of aftershock. I started to howl uncontrollably and ran away from him and into the dunes. Dave was a bit stunned, but then followed and caught up with me very quickly. He put his arms around me, trying to calm me down and almost immediately I felt safe and protected. It was just the most wonderful feeling. I shuddered and clung to him, as he held me very tight, patting my back, stroking my hair, mumbling "Come on mate, you're ok. now, you're safe." Eventually, I calmed down, wishing he'd never let go of me, but of course he did, and then we went home.
I didn't want him to tell Rodge and Sally what happened, but he insisted they had to know. Of course, they were quite shocked, imagining what might have happened. "We shouldn't have sent him off by himself," Sal said, and I thought 'oh God, now they're going to make me sit in the garden and read bloody books!'
But Dave reassured them "Don't worry, I'll be looking after him. I promised I'll teach him to swim. Is that ok by you?" He was very convincing and confidence inspiring for his sixteen years. So, they said, of course it was ok, and I was over the moon. As he left, he ruffled my hair and said "see you tomorrow, matey, I'll pick you up about ten," and I very nearly fell around his neck and kissed him.
The next three weeks were wonderful. I hero-worshipped him, although he was very tough on me, determined I was going to swim before the summer holidays ended. And swim I did. Not that I could compete with Dave yet, that was going to require a lot more training, but by the time I went home, I'd have been quite safe if anyone pushed me into the water.
From then on, Dave picked me up every morning as promised, walked me back for lunch, picked me up again about two hours later, and took me back in the evening. I got my swimming lessons at the back beach, which usually had very few people, one in the morning and another in the afternoon. The rest of the time we either mucked around, talking, wrestling, kicking a footy, or we went to his people's place, which was bit further away from the beach. Dave's mum was a great cook and we were always hungry.
The first morning we went to say hello to my fisherman friend as we passed the jetty, but Dave was keen to get going, so we didn't stay long. I was still scared of water and beginning to get cold feet over the whole thing, but if it meant being with him, I'd do almost anything. We walked a fair way along the beach to a good spot where we were pretty much on our own, and even if the tide was out, we just had to wade a bit further out, to get a reasonable depth.
As a non-swimmer, I hadn't brought any bathers from home, probably didn't even own any. I usually wore those stretchy footy shorts that come in the various club colours. Most of the boys had them, before the 'baggy look' took over. They were often a bit on the tight side, as we were all still growing, but that's how many Aussie Rules players wear them, too. Some look as if they'd been poured into them. Very _s_e_x_y!
I decided they would have to do for bathers, and that's what I wore with a T-shirt, when Dave came to pick me up. He, too, wore footy shorts and a T-shirt, and I remember being really thrilled about us both wearing similar gear. I can't really explain it, but it somehow felt like having a big brother, and I was terribly proud being seen with him, as we walked together.
When we reached our spot, Dave took off his T-shirt and shorts and was ready in his bathers, waiting for me to do the same. I had taken my T-shirt off and was ready for my first swimming lesson.
"Aren't you going to drop those shorts?" he asked.
"Nope", I said, "I haven't got any bathers. This is the best I can do."
"You can do much better than that. Take them off."
"I can't, I haven't got anything under them!"
"Is that all?" he laughed and took my breath away as he peeled his Speedos down and stood there stark naked. "Well, are you going to drop those, or will I do it for you?" he demanded.
I was even more embarrassed, because the sight of Dave in all his manly glory was giving me an instant erection, which was becoming quite obvious in my tight shorts.
"Look, don't worry about the stiffy, it's natural. I get them all the time, too. See, there's one coming on right now", he laughed, as his 'little mate' grew very quickly. I watched with fascination his foreskin slipping right back over the head, exposing it completely. Mine usually stayed partly covered, even with a full erection. He made a move to pull my shorts down.
"I'll do it myself", I turned away from him a little as I took them off. I was embarrassed, not only because of my hard-on, but also because I had very little body hair, while Dave, in contrast, had fairly hairy arms and legs, quite a pubic "forest", and even some fuzz on his abdomen and chest.
"Come on then " he turned towards the water, and I followed him in. It was only a few feet deep, but enough for me to be scared. Dave was very patient, and once he'd persuaded me to lie flat in the water, with his hands supporting me, the first step was taken.
After that, it became a matter of putting my face under water without getting scared, building up my confidence, while teaching me first to float, then the basic strokes, co-ordinating arm and leg movements, and so on, and it all seemed to go quite well. A few days later, as I was floating, he slowly took his hand away from under me, and I panicked.
I was terrified, thrashed about, screamed and, once again, Dave dragged me out. He had a hell of a time subduing me, because I was quite out of control. Once ashore, he pushed me towards the nearby dunes where we'd left our clothes. I fell on my knees, still shaken, trying to recover, and Dave also knelt down, facing me. We were both still naked. After that first day we somehow stuck to swimming in the nude.
Dave took a few moments to get his breath back. "For heaven's sake, what's your problem? What are you afraid of?" he demanded, as he gave me a slap on the front of my thigh. "Don't you trust me?"
That slap didn't hurt very much but, being still in a bit of a state, I nearly burst into tears. "You let go of me," I blurted.
"Of course I let go, you _f_u_c_k_wit." Another slap on my thigh, a bit harder, and I winced. "You think someone's going to hold their hand under you every time you go in the water?" SLAP.
By now I had recovered enough to realise my stupidity. l was angry for having been such a fool. After all, I had a champion swimmer for a teacher. Of course he'd get me out of trouble. Embarrassed, I got up and walked away into the dunes, but Dave was after me like a shot and grabbed my arm.
"Listen, don't walk away, I'm talking to you!"
_s_h_i_t_! He was really annoyed! I looked him in the eye. "I'm sorry, Dave, I really am. I know it was stupid. I just panicked."
"Panicking is the biggest mistake when you're in trouble in the water," he said. "That's how people drown, you dickhead. Nothing's harder than pulling someone out when he's struggling."
"I know it is. You've told me that before."
"Then don't bloody do it!" he yelled, with a slap on my backside.
That one hurt a lot more, and I yelped "ouch!", rubbing the spot where he'd hit me.
"You're going to remember this now?" he asked with another slap.
I swallowed and nodded.
"What?" Another slap. Gee, his hand was hard!
"Yes."
"Yes, what?" Another one. Cripes, that stung! Surprisingly, I just stood and waited for the next one. Somehow I knew I'd earned it. Was that my little mate stirring??
"Yes, I'll remember I mustn't panic in the water."
"Good. Get dressed!"
I put my shorts on again, and the T-shirt. Dave got back into his Speedos only, his T-shirt hanging over his shoulder, shorts in his hand, he stormed off, leaving me behind.
I was shattered. This was the end of it all and I probably wouldn't see him again. I tried hard to suppress the tears coming to my eyes, as I followed him along the beach, hoping he'd turn around, but he didn't. I threw myself down in the sand and howled uncontrollably, not wanting to go home or anywhere else. At that moment I would have happily drowned.
Eventually, I'd sobbed myself out and just lay there, my face in the sand, trying not to think of anything. I don't know how long I'd been lying there, Dave reckons it wasn't long at all, because when he eventually turned around and couldn't see me, he got worried and ran back. When he found me lying there, he sat beside me and quietly put his hand on my back. I burst into tears all over again and clung to him as if my life depended on it. Dave spoke very quietly, I can't remember exactly what he said, while gently stroking my hair and patting my back. Again I had that wonderful safe feeling, never wanting it to end.
Somehow my head ended up in his lap, and I could feel his 'little mate' getting bigger and pushing against my cheek, with the result that mine immediately also rose to attention. We stayed like that for a while, and I didn't care any more that the considerable bulge in the front of my shorts was very obvious. Deep down I wished he'd touch it, so I could have done what I was too scared to do, namely put my hand where my cheek was. But no such luck.
"You ok now?" With that he pushed me up into a sitting position, and the magic was gone.
"Yeah, I think so. Listen, Dave, I'm -" I was going to apologise again, hoping he wouldn't abandon me, but he stopped me.
"No, YOU listen to ME, mate!"
'Here it comes', I thought, 'he's going to call it all off!' - "Dave, please, let me -"
"Just shut up and listen, will you?"
I just dropped my head and waited for the axe to fall. Well, at least that's how it felt.
"I don't know why I'm doing this. I should just drop it and forget the whole thing." My heart sank, tears came to my eyes, and I looked at Dave, who was a real softie. He looked at me, took a deep breath, "ah, bloody hell, I suppose I can't just let you drown, eh?"
"Does that mean, we'll go on with the lessons?" I asked.
He put his arm around my shoulders, "what do you think?"
This time I threw all caution to the wind and gave him a big hug. "Dave, I promise I'll behave. I won't panic again, and I'll do exactly what you say."
"Yeah, yeah, till next time. Look, I know you're not doing it on purpose, mate. But we don't have much time. Holidays will be over in a couple of weeks and I want you to be able to swim before then. You'll have to try harder and use a bit more self-control."
"Dad always said that was my greatest weakness. No self-control. He's probably right, as usual. I guess that's why I got belted all the time."
"Sorry I hit you, mate. I was so angry."
"I deserved that. - Dad would have been a lot harder on me."
"Does he belt you often?"
"Not any more. He moved out ages ago." And then, somehow, I poured my heart out, how much I missed my dad. Yes, he was hard on me, but he was a real mate, and I felt safe with him. I knew the rules and the consequences if I broke them. Even if he and Mum didn't get on, it really hurt that he didn't seem to care about me any more, either.
Dave had listened to all this, hardly saying a word, but when I said this was probably why I'd been making Mum's life a misery and she had to send me away with other people, he slapped my thigh again. "Stop blaming others. Take some responsibility yourself. You're not a baby. How old are you?"
"Nearly fifteen," I said.
"Yeah, well, you still have a lot of growing up to do, but for heaven's sake, make an effort. - I mean, I don't run riot the moment my old man turns his back!"
"That's easy for you," I said, "you're so bloody perfect!"
"Tell my old man that," Dave laughed.
"Why? Does he belt you too?"
"I get the cane when I've earned it. Not often, but it happens."
I swallowed. "Really?" This was strangely exciting, and my little mate was stirring ardently.
"Really," Dave said, "on my bare bum, what's more, and believe me, my old man is an expert."
"My dad just used his hand till I was twelve, and then I got the belt, usually on my shorts. He used to say I'd be graduating to the cane after my fourteenth birthday, but we never got that far. I suppose I should be grateful."
"You mean you never got the cane?"
"Nope, and I never got it on the bare bum, either - except from you today," I snorted.
"Mate, you've been spoilt," he laughed, "a cane on the bare bum is something else altogether. No wonder you're out of control."
I noticed with great interest that his 'little mate' was giving him problems, too, although it wasn't quite so obvious because of the Speedos under his shorts. Why was this talk so exciting? I realised I wouldn't mind getting a taste of the cane from Dave, and the thought of it made my little mate as hard as a steel rod. I knew there was no need to be embarrassed in front of Dave, but I was still glad my T-shirt was hanging loose, covering most of the bulge.
I was getting really bold now, "maybe you should keep one handy for when it's needed."
"What?"
"I mean, if you think I'm out of control, and I keep doing stupid things, maybe you should have a cane handy and whack my bum with it when I've earned it."
"Mate, you don't know what you're talking about."
"Just before, when you slapped my bum, I knew I deserved it."
"You sure did."
". . . and more."
"Probably."
"Well - maybe it'll teach me self-control, - maybe I'll even learn to swim before the holidays are over."
"You'll learn that allright," Dave said, giving me a friendly slap, "if I have to kill you."
"I really mean it, mate."
Dave ruffled my hair and put his arms around me, and that felt so good. "I'll think about it."
It was close to lunchtime, and we walked back along the beach together, arms around each other's shoulders. I was so proud and wished people could see us, but there were only a few around and they didn't seem to notice.
"I was worried you'd never speak to me again."
"Listen, I'll always be your mate. I'll probably get mad at you, but I'll stick by you."
"Promise?"
"Promise. - For starters, don't panic in the water, and if you're frightened don't fight me when I'm trying to get you out of trouble. Just trust me. I'll look after you. That's what mates are for. They help each other."
"Geez!" I was so overcome, "except there's not much I can help you with. You're so much better at everything."
Dave laughed.
"Dave?"
"What, mate?"
"If I do something stupid and you get mad at me, I reckon you should give me a hiding."
"I don't know, mate."
"You said you'll look after me. My dad used to do that, and he was very strict."
"I know, you told me."
"He always said I need a strong hand to keep my bum tanned."
"He was probably right."
"Will you do it?"
"Probably, if you get me mad enough."
"Can you get your dad's cane?"
"No way! I can't touch that unless he tells me to get it so he can use it on my bum."
"I can't believe you're still getting the cane."
"It doesn't happen often, but you wouldn't want it to . . . "
"What'll you use then?"
"I'll think of something. Let's hope we won't need it."
"I know we will."
Dave looked at me sideways, but didn't say anything.
When we reached my place, I asked "want to come in for lunch?"
"Ah, I don't know."
"Sal's been saying a few times I should ask you. I've had so many lunches at your place, and I'd really like you to. Please!"
"If you're sure . . ."
"Come on in, then!"
Sal and Rodge had already had theirs, but there was stuff in the fridge, and we helped ourselves. They were going for a drive, did we want to come?
"No thanks," I said, "we'll be off to the beach again, later on." I wanted Dave all to myself.
Dave agreed, "Tim needs all the practice we can fit in before the holidays are over."
Finally we were alone, and I couldn't stop thinking about Dave thrashing my backside. The mere thought of it caused an immense erection. As I wriggled around to accommodate it in my shorts, Dave said "having a little problem there, mate?"
I blushed, "hmm."
"So have I." He stood up, displaying a big bulge in his shorts. "Wanna do something about it?"
I didn't know what to say. He came over, pulled me up from my seat, put his arms around me and kissed me on the mouth. He was at least six inches taller than I. My arms flew around his neck, as he opened my shorts and got hold of my rigid companion. I moved my hands down below his waist and found the object of my desire, and in no time, we were both naked and on the floor, kissing and playing with each other until the clouds burst. It was absolute heaven. I'd had many dreams about it, but this was better than any dream!
Afterwards, I just cuddled against Dave's chest, with his arms around me. We kissed again, but neither of us spoke for quite a while till Dave suggested we'd better clean up and have a shower. We showered together, and I told Dave I thought this beats going for a drive with Sal & Rodge any day. He laughed and slapped my backside, which immediately caused my little mate to grow again, but we didn't pursue the matter. Instead, we went back to the beach for another swimming practice.
I made really good progress during the following two weeks, and we kissed, cuddled and wanked together daily in the dunes. I also got my bum whacked several times during that period. By contriving situations that I knew would annoy him, I'd finally convinced Dave that I needed some firmer discipline. So, one day, he dragged me into the dunes and said he had been hoping this wouldn't be necessary, but obviously I was asking for it, and then he beat my backside with his bare hand. This was quite a turn-on, but not really what I had hoped for. Dave wasn't too impressed, either, so he said he'd find a stick for tomorrow, and then I'd really get it. I was so excited, I wanked myself to sleep that night, dreaming of tomorrow ....
The next morning, he picked me up as usual. As we walked around the corner, he reached into one of the bushes and pulled out two switches that he had deposited there before he knocked on our door. "Here," he said, handing them to me, "may as well make friends with them. They'll be in close contact with your arse, when we get there."
I don't know how to describe my very mixed feelings. There was excitement that my old wish was about to be fulfilled, manifesting itself in a sprouting erection, which was only kept from becoming rampant by the thought that Dave was a man of his word; and he'd promised I would regret having pushed him this far.
When we got there and were both naked for the practice, he said "ok mate, you've been asking for this, let's go into the dunes."
"Wh-what d'you mean?" I tried to stall, knowing full well what he meant.
"Move it, mate! I'm going to remind you that I mean what I say." He slapped my bare bottom and pointed the way. There was nobody around, but we picked a reasonably secluded spot, just in case, where he told me to bend over.
When the first stroke hit my bum, I thought I'd been touched by a red hot fire poker. I yelled out and jumped up, rubbing my behind. Dave just stood there, patiently.
"_s_h_i_t_, that hurt!" I shouted.
"Of course," he said, "it was meant to. Now listen, I'm allowing you one break, because you've never felt this before. This was it! If you do that again, you'll get more. Bend over and stay down till I tell you it's over."
"How many am I getting?" My voice was quivering a bit.
"Five," he said, "four more to come. Now, bend over!"
I did, and with every stroke I yelled out loud, tears started to run from my eyes, Dave clearly meant business, but I stayed down. After the last one, he told me to stand up and rub my bum, and then he did the nicest thing. He took me in his arms and said, "listen mate, I don't enjoy doing this. I hope I won't have to do it again."
But he did. At least three more times. Although during and immediately after each caning I regretted ever having started it, the next day I seemed to be already itching for another.
The holidays came to an end. I'd become reasonably competent as a swimmer, and all I needed now was regular practice. I'll always be grateful to Dave for bringing me that far. The worst part of it all was that we had to say 'good bye'. We both tried to put very brave faces on it. I was madly in love with him and he must have been reasonably fond of me, too, but neither of us spoke of such things. We hugged and promised we'd meet again next year during the holidays, but it never happened.
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