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The feel of chasing and pushing was a little more exciting, somehow. The feel of skin on wet skin had always been there, of course, but in the past it had been arms and legs slipping against each other. Now, suddenly, other body parts came into contact, sliding across each other. The boys, when they tackled each other, somehow knew how to mitigate the kind of touch that pressed a penis against one”s temporary rival. But, when they grappled with Johnnie Sue, that urge for mitigation seemed to be missing.It was almost mind-blowingly fun. Johnnie Sue wrapped her legs around them, pushing her crotch against a hip, or a knee, as she tried to trip them and force their heads under water. Her breasts pressed against a smooth back, as she put her arms around them to lift and throw. When they caught her, their hands slipped all over, frequently across her breasts. Had they done this on land, with no excuse, she would have rebuffed that touch. But here, in the water, it all seemed exciting,. All senses resided in my head. I floated in the middle of a large calm lake, looking up at sharp, towering mountains crested by snow. Wispy clouds thickened and became benevolent faces of gods looking down at me. When they laughed, I laughed with them. The blue sky became fragmented, like jigsaw puzzle pieces, and those pieces took on features of familiar people, friends and family, as well as strangers and images from nature, both flora and fauna, and I experienced the interconnectedness of the universe.Then things began to change. In the absence of sensory stimulation, I heard the quietest of hisses outside myself. I smelled a chemical odor masked by a floral scent, potent as gardenias despite it barely being there. Then I heard a voice, not Jason's, higher pitched. It insinuated itself inside my skull, making me unsure of its source: a speaker or self-created. I couldn't understand the words but they effected me.The nirvana I had been in ended. Images of my past appeared. They.
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