Wear Some Flowers in Your Hair
by Biff Spork
Chapter 4
As we plucked out the last few weeds before breaking for lunch, Amicus produced a high-pitched and long-drawn-out fart. I had to laugh. He looked up at me with a smile.
"You never heard anyone fart before?"
"Sure," I said. "But not like that high screechy fart. That was something else."
"So, how do you fart?"
"Well, pretty much like everyone else I guess. You know, just sneak it out without a lot of fanfare. Or clamp down and wait until I have a chance to relax my bum and let it seep out silently."
"Black ops! Covert operations!" exclaimed Amicus, managing to sound both fierce and forgiving. "See, I figure farting is another of those human things people try to pretend doesn't exist. Like unwanted hard-ons."
"Unwanted hard-ons…."
"Yeah, you know when you get a hard-on sometimes when you don't want one, although I can't say I ever had one I didn't like. But it can be inconvenient. Personally, I really like having a hard-on. I'd like it if it never got soft. I mean, a hard-on is such a nice thing. It's like your body is sending you a message, 'Yoohoo! Something nice is coming!'"
We thought about that for a minute, then he continued, "But the topic here is people's bad attitude toward farting. Everybody's just walking around with smiles on their faces, pretending they never fart, and all the while they're sneaking farts out, silently leaking out clouds of shit-gas while chatting about the weather or the latest film."
"I never really thought about it," I said. "But I'm sure you're right."
"Well, I've been thinking about it, about farting, I mean. Everyone says we should always be mindful. We should always be paying attention to what we're doing and not just drifting through life like we're in a dream. So, I figure farting is something we all have to do — why not do it consciously?"
Amicus looked at me with his eyebrows raised, as if expecting questions or objections, then continued, "That fart you laughed at was a conscious fart. I knew what I was doing. I decided to fart, I consciously applied just enough squeeze to my bum-lips to provide a musical announcement, and I farted."
"Ah, I see," I said, "that was a warning to innocent bystanders, a bum-song!" I choked. "A bum-song, kinda like a Public Service Announcement to let me know I could just go and breathe somewhere else!"
"This," he said with a sniff, "This is serious!"
"I'm sorry," I said, trying not to laugh but not succeeding well. "I didn't realize it was a conscious fart, that you're a conscious farter."
"Well, it wasn't really planned," he admitted. "But lately I've been trying to set aside a time when I can fart consciously, you know, in advance, instead of just dealing with gas leaks as they arise."
"So, how do you do that?" By this time I was lying on my side in the dirt laughing so hard I actually farted, just one small toot.
"You laugh," he said. "Here I am trying to free you from random, accidental farts like that miserable little poot that just escaped you, and you laugh," he said between gasps of laughter. "One day you'll pass this knowledge on to your grandchildren with gratitude." He hovered over me and poked me in the ribs a few times. I squealed and flopped onto my back. He continued, "There's a couple of postures I've found where you can release noxious vapors before they force themselves out. Get up on your knees, and I'll show you an easy one."
I pulled myself together, rolled over and got up on my knees. Then he had me bend at the hips and put my head right down on the ground, so my bum was sticking up in the air. "Right," he said, standing up behind me. "Just arch your back a little so your bum is pointing straight up." I could feel the sun beating down on my bum and a little breeze on my asshole. "Now relax the sphincter so it opens up."
"I have a sphincter?"
"That's what it's called. It's that little muscle that pinches a poop off when it comes out."
"Oh."
I concentrated on relaxing my sphincter and found that in this position I could actually feel it gaping open. I had no idea that was even possible.
"Excellent!" said Amicus. "Now just stay like that for a few minutes and give the emissions a chance to rise up from the depths."
He knelt and put his head down on the ground beside mine. "I'll join you," he said. I grinned at him and we stayed like that with our bums pointing up into the sky. It worked. After a few minutes I could actually feel some fart gas escaping.
"I'm farting," I said.
"Now, isn't that better than just sneaking one out? More thoughtful? More honest? This is mindful farting. And if you experiment you will find you can close your asshole just enough to make it vibrate when the gas passes out, like this." A few seconds later he emitted a short, high chirp. I chirped back and we fell against each other laughing and hugged, and then laughed and hugged some more.
We kissed and lay there in the dirt looking into each other's eyes. It was perfect. After a few minutes, he said, "I'm so hungry I could eat dirt. I'd suck you off but I might just bite off that tasty thing that's poking me down there. Let's go have some lunch."
We ran through the forest all the way to the food house.
Maudie looked at us, put her hands on her hips and said, "God, you guys are so dirty!"
"We're hungry too," said Amicus.
"Tofu scramble?"
"Yes, please!" we said.
She said she'd bring it to us and we went and sat at the kids' table with Henry and Sequoia and Frida and a bunch of smaller kids. Frida made us all laugh as she told how she had spent the morning trying to make friends with a mongoose, the various kinds of food she had tried to tempt him with and her increasingly frustrating failures. Maudie brought our food to the table and asked Frida if she was still going to do swim lessons for the little kids in the afternoon.
Frida said she was, and Maudie turned to me and said, "Your Mom tells me you're a good swimmer. Maybe you and Amicus can go up to the swimmin' hole later and help her teach the little ones how to swim."
I looked at Amicus and then we both looked at Frida and nodded.
Maudie nodded and said, "Good! I wanna see two shiny clean boys for supper."
"Okay, Mom," groaned Amicus.
Maudie wrapped her arms around him and kissed him on both cheeks. "I love you dirty, but I love you clean maybe just a tiny little bit more," she said. Then she grabbed me and kissed me too and said, "You too!"
While we ate, Frida went off to gather up the little children who wanted swim lessons. Henry and Sequoia said they'd meet us later, and we could play some more water polo, when we had finished the swimming lessons.
Frida led the way through the forest with a half dozen kids, both boys and girls maybe four or five years old, following her. Amicus followed them and I was last. Everyone was naked, and it was starting to seem normal to me.
Just before the spring water stream exited the pool, it got shallower. Where it was about waist deep on me, we helped the kids get used to being in deep water. We each took two kids, one on each hand, and walked back and forth while they paddled with their feet. Then we showed them how to float on their backs, one at a time. They were just like slippery little fish, and it was fun keeping them afloat and helping them feel safe in the water. We worked with them for about an hour before Frida said it was enough and took them back to their day care.
Amicus and I had gotten clean without even noticing it. We swam upstream where the water was deeper and crawled out onto one of the big flat rocks. It was so nice and warm against my skin, and I felt so good and a little tired from our morning's work and the big lunch we had eaten, I fell almost immediately into a doze while the sun dried me. I woke up when I heard Henry and Sequoia diving into the pool.
Amicus grabbed the ball, and we dived in to meet them in the middle of the pool. Sequoia said we should balance the teams for size so he was going to play with Amicus against me and Henry. We played like that for about a half hour then switched upstream and downstream ends until we were all tired. We hadn't been keeping score so nobody won or lost. I was thinking about Amicus and his conscious farting, about Frida and her funny stories at lunch and then working with her to teach the little kids, and about playing polo with Sequoia and Henry and I realized how much I liked all these kids. Nobody was trying to be better than anybody. They just wanted everyone to have a good time.
Henry and I leaned on the rocks at the edge of the pool, half out of the water, while we caught our breath. We were talking about how we learned to swim underwater, how to hold your breath and free diving and stuff like that. As we talked, I was looking at his face and realized that he was real handsome. He still had a boy's face, though it seemed a little stronger. But his most amazing feature was his electric blue-gray eyes. Usually, he seemed to be looking down and he looked nice but kind of quiet. Then he would flick his eyelids up and it was like his eyes were brilliant spotlights. The contrast between those bright eyes and his deeply tanned face was stunning. While we had been playing water polo, I had been impressed by his six pack and his muscular arms. They weren't like body-builder ginormous, but when he used them his biceps swelled into tight mounds. He had really slim legs but they must have been powerful because he could push himself up out of the deep water nearly completely, like a dolphin breaching.
I imagined that Sequoia's parents must have known what he would grow up like when they named him. Though he was only about the same height as Henry, his legs and arms were like tree trunks, and he had a short thick neck like a weightlifter. He was bulky, but it wasn't fat. He was solid muscle. In spite of his obvious strength, whenever he grabbed me playing polo, his touch was always gentle, and he had a shy smile that often flickered over his face.
Amicus and Sequoia wandered off toward the forest. As they disappeared into the trees Sequoia shouted, "We're going to the mango orchard."
Henry took my hand and said, "Let's swim together." He pulled me alongside him as he adopted a lazy side-stroke.
I kicked a little to help us, but mostly I just relaxed and let him idle us forward. I put my free hand on his waist. He leaned toward me and kissed the end of my nose. I closed my eyes and listened to the trickling of the stream and the echoes of bird songs in the forest canopy.
Henry pulled me closer so we were pressed together. "This is very nice," he said, as we floated back downstream to the shallow end of the pool.
"Yeah, but…" I said and looked down.
He followed my gaze down between our bellies where we could see our hard dinguses poking up.
"Hmmm," he said, "Let me guess. You've been playing with Amicus and you're worried he might not like it if you and me played together a bit."
"Yeah," I said, a little apologetically.
"Listen, one of the things we learn in the kids house is that nobody belongs to anybody else, and that feelings of ownership and jealousy always lead to somebody getting hurt. Just about everybody in the kids house has spent some time playing with most of the other kids. I'll bet by this time next year, you will have slept in every bed in that big room and probably in some of the houses too. We're kids, and we're full of sexual energy. Maudie says we feel strongly, but not longly. We have a little sex and feel some love and then a half hour later we're kissing someone else's neck. And that's fine because we're still barely out of childhood. I just turned fourteen and how old are you? Like eleven or twelve?"
"Eleven," I said.
Henry and me were still wrapped around each other and the stiffness of the dinguses between us was like a third person's contribution to the conversation.
"I like Amicus so much…" I said.
"...you're afraid of hurting him or having to hide this from him," finished Henry.
"Yeah."
"If we play together he won't be hurt. He'll be happy you trusted him not to be hurt by you having some fun with me."
"I dunno," I muttered.
"For you, it's probably kinda a new way of thinking about things," said Henry, "and I know it can be hard to change how you think." Here he gave me a little hug and kissed my forehead. Then he said, "It might hurt you a little but I'm gonna tell you something."
"Okay," I said, a little afraid.
"You can bet Amicus and Sequoia are doing more in the mango orchard than just picking mangoes. Right now Amicus is probably down on his knees with Sequoia's cock deep in his mouth. He's not betraying you. He's just loving Sequoia, the same as he's done a hundred times before. It doesn't mean he doesn't love you. I'm sure he loves you. And he loves Sequoia and me and lots of other kids too. And we all love him. He's beautiful and funny and kind and thoughtful. See, in the kids house we're not just learning sex things. We're learning how to love each other and how to really respect each other. And," he said, "the big question here is not if Amicus will be okay with us playing together, but are you okay with learning to love maybe a bunch of people?"
"I hope so," I said and then suddenly it all dropped into place and I was okay with it. "Yeah, it's good."
Henry reached down between us, squeezed our dinguses together, and began slowly rubbing them up and down. As he continued to stroke our dinguses, I could feel the good feeling getting stronger and stronger. I pulled his hand away and began to stroke the two dongs myself. His dingus seemed incredibly long and hard. I loved feeling it in my hand and wondered what it would be like to suck it. My dick was so stiff it was almost painful. I stopped stroking and reached under to feel his balls. In the cool water they were hugged up tight under his dong the same as mine were.
I really liked feeling my dingus rubbing against his big hard-on, and I pressed them together. And then it came, that glorious feeling centered in my dong and spreading out into my whole body and into him, like our dicks were fusing together. I jerked against him and looked down to see his dingus shooting some white stuff into the water. Then I clutched my arms and legs around him while our bodies writhed and squirmed against each other.
I stayed wrapped around him and pushing into him as we came down from the crest of that wonderful feeling. Once we had stilled he resumed his side-stroke to get us down to the shallow end where we could lie half in and half out of the water and recover.
I crawled on top of him, took little kisses all over his neck and face, and hugged him tight. "Thank you Henry, thank you thank you thank you," I said.
"I'm happy you're here, Morgan," he said, "Very very happy."
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