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Growing up, my best friend was a kid named Clay. We lived in a fairly remote area in Pennsylvania. Our parents lived on large wooded parcels of land that neighbored each other on a hillside north of Greensburg. We named the hill, “Mount Clash.” It was a combination of our names, Clay and Josh.
We had what I guess you could call a traditional childhood. We spent a lot of time in the woods hunting, camping and fishing. It was a simple life, but it was a great life. That’s why we still return to Clash every chance we get.
Clay’s dad died during our senior year of high school. He and his mother were crushed. His mom couldn’t stand the thought of living in the same home, so when Clay left for college, she divided the property and sold it off. She was able to make enough money to retire and move to Pittsburgh. But, she made sure to deed ten acres of the land to Clay, because she knew he loved it there.
My parents divorced that same year. As part of the settlement, they divided up their land, sold it, split the profits and went their separate ways. They, too, deeded me ten acres adjacent to Clay’s parcel. As my mom put it, “You shouldn’t have to give up your childhood memories just because dad and I couldn’t make things work out.”
Although we got our land through loss and tragedy, we still loved it. It was part of our childhood. It’s where we built forts, played cowboys and Indians and caught frogs at the stream. The land made us best friends and now it would keep us that way.
Clay went off to college and I went to work managing a popular bar and grill in Greensburg. I lived in an apartment there, so on weekends I spent time on Clash. I built a small cabin to use as a weekend getaway and a place to spend my vacation time.
Clay and I agreed that we’d meet back on Clash whenever we could. We chose two weeks in July to go to the land and do some brush clearing, fishing, and, of course, partying. Our first summer at Clash was all work. My cabin was incomplete - it still needed electrical and plumbing work. So, that’s how we spent our first July return to Clash. It was worth it, though. Now, we had a place to go every summer, complete with electricity and indoor plumbing . We were 19 years old and pretty proud of ourselves….but we still acted like we were kids building a fort.
I talked to Clay quite often throughout the year. We talked about Mt. Clash, our lives, girlfriends, jobs and everything else. Clay would even spill the beans about a guy or two with whom he had encountered. He was a bisexual wild man, but I was ok with it. I figured if it feels good, do it.
As the following July approached, we started making plans for vacation time on Clash. As a welcome home present for Clay, I arranged for a couple of hot chicks from the bar to join us at the cabin for drinks on his first night back. I called and told him to be ready. I was looking forward to hanging out with my best friend, our dates, and having a good time. But this fast-paced night turned out to be an unexpected mind-blower.
I arrived at the cabin just after dark on Friday night. Clay had already been inside, listening to his iPod and setting up his cot. I got a campfire going and went in to ask him if he wanted to come out for a while, but I stopped just inside the doorway. I couldn’t speak. I was at a loss for words. There was Clay, on his back, on his cot, shirtless, barefoot and wearing a pair of board shorts. I had never looked at a guy this way before and never thought of guys as attractive. But he looked absolutely stunning - almost as if he was a model posing for a spread.
Clay had let his sun-bleached, light brown hair grow and it was draped across his shoulders. His torso was tanned and more defined than I had ever realized. His chest was hairless, but his six pack abs sported a light trail of brown hair that disappeared into his shorts. His legs were covered with light brown hair that looked soft, unlike the typical stiff, curly stuff. His hands were clasped behind his head exposing thickets of equally soft-looking light brown hair under his arms. I knew I was pretty good looking, but I suddenly realized that my best friend had the edge. For the first time, I was aroused by another guy.
We had what I guess you could call a traditional childhood. We spent a lot of time in the woods hunting, camping and fishing. It was a simple life, but it was a great life. That’s why we still return to Clash every chance we get.
Clay’s dad died during our senior year of high school. He and his mother were crushed. His mom couldn’t stand the thought of living in the same home, so when Clay left for college, she divided the property and sold it off. She was able to make enough money to retire and move to Pittsburgh. But, she made sure to deed ten acres of the land to Clay, because she knew he loved it there.
My parents divorced that same year. As part of the settlement, they divided up their land, sold it, split the profits and went their separate ways. They, too, deeded me ten acres adjacent to Clay’s parcel. As my mom put it, “You shouldn’t have to give up your childhood memories just because dad and I couldn’t make things work out.”
Although we got our land through loss and tragedy, we still loved it. It was part of our childhood. It’s where we built forts, played cowboys and Indians and caught frogs at the stream. The land made us best friends and now it would keep us that way.
Clay went off to college and I went to work managing a popular bar and grill in Greensburg. I lived in an apartment there, so on weekends I spent time on Clash. I built a small cabin to use as a weekend getaway and a place to spend my vacation time.
Clay and I agreed that we’d meet back on Clash whenever we could. We chose two weeks in July to go to the land and do some brush clearing, fishing, and, of course, partying. Our first summer at Clash was all work. My cabin was incomplete - it still needed electrical and plumbing work. So, that’s how we spent our first July return to Clash. It was worth it, though. Now, we had a place to go every summer, complete with electricity and indoor plumbing . We were 19 years old and pretty proud of ourselves….but we still acted like we were kids building a fort.
I talked to Clay quite often throughout the year. We talked about Mt. Clash, our lives, girlfriends, jobs and everything else. Clay would even spill the beans about a guy or two with whom he had encountered. He was a bisexual wild man, but I was ok with it. I figured if it feels good, do it.
As the following July approached, we started making plans for vacation time on Clash. As a welcome home present for Clay, I arranged for a couple of hot chicks from the bar to join us at the cabin for drinks on his first night back. I called and told him to be ready. I was looking forward to hanging out with my best friend, our dates, and having a good time. But this fast-paced night turned out to be an unexpected mind-blower.
I arrived at the cabin just after dark on Friday night. Clay had already been inside, listening to his iPod and setting up his cot. I got a campfire going and went in to ask him if he wanted to come out for a while, but I stopped just inside the doorway. I couldn’t speak. I was at a loss for words. There was Clay, on his back, on his cot, shirtless, barefoot and wearing a pair of board shorts. I had never looked at a guy this way before and never thought of guys as attractive. But he looked absolutely stunning - almost as if he was a model posing for a spread.
Clay had let his sun-bleached, light brown hair grow and it was draped across his shoulders. His torso was tanned and more defined than I had ever realized. His chest was hairless, but his six pack abs sported a light trail of brown hair that disappeared into his shorts. His legs were covered with light brown hair that looked soft, unlike the typical stiff, curly stuff. His hands were clasped behind his head exposing thickets of equally soft-looking light brown hair under his arms. I knew I was pretty good looking, but I suddenly realized that my best friend had the edge. For the first time, I was aroused by another guy.

















