Stripped For Florida: Jason and Amare 3

By Willie B.
[email protected]

Copyright 2012 by Willie B., all rights reserved

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This work is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It may contain depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not read further, and do not save this story.
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JASON AND AMARE
 
A Stripped For Florida story in eleven parts
 
   
 
PART 3: Stripped
 
For several days the three camped at the idyllic spot near the stream.  Jim made the boys bathe in the stream at night to keep them from filling their tent with dried clay.  Jason slept soundly against Amaré's warm skin.  In the morning he would wake rested and ready for the day, Amaré's hand always grasped tightly around his morning hard on.  They would run and fish and dive and splash in the river.  Their wild antics always ended up at the place by the bank with the special clay.  Jason learned quickly how to apply the mud, imagining how it would dry and what effects would set off Amaré's torso, legs, buttocks and arms.  Amaré would take Jason's penis, pull it out long and harden it up by pulling his finger down its length before applying the mud decorations.  Jason took his friend's penis in turn, applying decorations to it as well.  Amaré would always tell him they were "brothers, best brothers" and smile happily.  Jason felt much more than brotherly love toward Amaré, but for the moment was content.  Life was good!
 
Late in the afternoon clouds moved in, bringing a deep darkness to half the sky. Bright yellow light poured down on the other side, creating the kind of dramatic sky that Floridians know well.  The forest was hushed and Amaré, Jason and Jim sat in silence around their little camp.  A flight of ibis arced above the treetops, wing-tips dipping in unison as they sped toward their evening roost.  Jason swore that it was impossible, but watched as the deep yellow sky intensified into a colour beyond the ability of photographs to convey.  If he were to paint this, he thought, no one in New Jersey would believe it to be an accurate portrayal.  A tinge of pink touched the yellow and suddenly sound returned to the world. The trees rustled, birds went back to their chatter.  A squirrel darted into the camp and grabbed a piece of bread they'd left lying on a stone.
 
"I am thinking, Jim," spoke Amaré. 
 
"Yes?"
 
"I would be happy for Jason if you were to strip him.  He is happy this way."
 
"Are you sure?"
 
"Of course.  He is my brother.  I want him to feel happiness.  The clothes are not good for him anymore."  Amaré asserted this as a great truth.
 
"We will be travelling soon.  Coming out of the wilderness.  There is another side of Florida and naturally we want to show it off a bit, too!" explained Jim. "I am not allowed to be naked in Florida.  I am an adult and grew up before the stripping business ever began. Unless I am here where nobody can monitor us, or inside the confines of a nudist resort or beach, I must put my clothes back on. You, Jason, are in a different situation.  You can be stripped any day. Most Florida parents don't leave this up to their kids, but I want you to know that it is your decision. There is no rush.  Think it through and if it is what you want I will pay the fee."
 
"What about Amaré?" Jason asked.  "Why were you clothed when you came to pick me up at the airport.  Here you seem so much yourself, and you are naked."
 
"Amaré is a Florida resident.  Only a legal guardian can strip a Florida child and the official adoption has not been completed yet.  Until the papers come through no one in Florida has the right to strip him of his clothes.  It has been hard on Amaré to wait." Jim looked over at the boy for confirmation.
 
"Yes . . . but it has been good to learn." Amaré said, "I was naked my whole life before coming here."
 
"Really?!" exclaimed Jason.  "That must have been cool."
 
"Yes, it is the custom of my people," answered Amaré simply.
 
"Boys do not wear clothes in the Omo Valley of Ethiopia," explained Jim, "and many times no one else does either."
 
"You are my people, now," went on Amaré.
 
"Not everything in Amaré's past has been as delightful as it has been running naked these past few days.  A dam was built on the river where his people live.  The water dried up.  There was not enough for all the cattle and fields and people.  In the warfare that broke out between different groups, most of his people either died or fled.  I found Amaré naked and lost and confused in the corner of a Red Cross refugee camp.  Amaré and I became each other's people.  It has been a great honour."  Jim looked at the boy with so much love in his eyes that Jason looked away, embarrassed to be the witness.
 
"Yes, an honour for me to know Jim," replied Amaré.
 
"I explain this much to you so that you can understand how special it is that Amaré is speaking up on your behalf.  That he puts your happiness first; because for him to be naked and decorated with clay is the finest thing there can be in the world.  To be naked, decorated and watching cattle come down to the river to drink."
 
Amaré smiled at the description, nodding at Jim's words.
 
"But," argued Jason, "if you can't strip Amaré without papers, how can you strip me?  You don't have any papers for me either."
 
"You are a tourist.  It's fairly easy.  All I have to do is affirm that I have the right to strip you.  No identification or papers are required.  Legally you are under my guardianship while you are away from your aunt, so even if some official were to come poking his or her nose into our business we could easily get the proper letter."
 
"Oh, I think I get it," responded Jason.
 
"So, what you say boys?  Two more days here and then we see some civilization?"
 
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Civilization
 
Civilization came as a shock to Jason. It didn't help that he was stripped at the very first opportunity that presented itself.
 
Jim pulled the pickup into what turned out to be a combination gas station and hunting gear store.  Antiques, groceries and lottery tickets made up the balance.  The blonde faces of the SFF poster peered through a display of fishing rods.  When Jim set four quarts of motor oil on the counter and requested one SFF chip, the grizzled, unshaven man behind the counter leered at him and the two 14-year old boys.  "Been campin' have you?  Whatcha doin' -- strippin' the other one at the next gas station?" 
 
"Dirty old man," muttered Jason, but Jim ignored the remarks, accepted his change and started to guide the boys back outside.  As soon as they reached the door, the alarm started to go off. 
 
"You'll have to strip him in here, sir," spoke the man. 
 
"Okay, Jason, you'll need to strip down right here.  Give me your clothes and we'll fold them up."
 
The old man kept his leering eye on the boys the entire time.  I'm not going to give him much to look at, thought Jason. I'll just peel off as fast as possible.  "Okay, Uncle, let's get out of here."
 
The nude Jason darted out the door, followed by Jim and Amaré.
 
"Why was that man bothering you, Jim?" asked Amaré.
 
"Thinks I'm up to no good.  I suppose someone who was illegally stripping a lot of teenage boys would make sure not to do it all at one location.  Makes it a little less likely to get caught -- although with all the digital records I don't see why that would be the case."
 
"But you are not doing anything wrong," insisted Amaré.
 
"No, I'm not, and neither is Jason -- just enjoying his Florida right to be in his own skin."
 
They piled back into the pickup, Jason's naked skin squeezed between Amaré on the one side and Jim on the other.  It felt funny to be the only naked one now. It had seemed so natural to be nude in the woods and on the river, all three of them naked the full day.  The breezes, the water, even the clay had all seemed like the most ordinary things.  Not only was Jason the only one naked in the truck, but as they travelled through the back roads of North Florida and then headed south on US 19 they saw very few stripped kids.  If this was supposed to be civilization, Jason was not impressed.  Mile after mile of trees and highway, dotted with mobile homes, the occasional feed shop, prisons surrounded by barbed wire, rundown motels, and barbeque and karaoke joints. 
 
When they stopped for lunch Jason was the only one in the establishment naked.  Heads turned to follow the site of the naked boy in the company of an older man and a black teenager. 
 
"I hope it's not to cold for you son, we keep the AC cranked up," said the waitress, taking their order.
 
"I'm okay," said Jason.
 
"Don't worry, I think it's sweet," continued the waitress. "I'd probably strip my own son -- just a little older than you, I reckon -- but his father likes to take him hunting and says his skin is so white it'll blind the deer!  Now if my son were as dark as you," she said nodding at Amaré, "he wouldn't be able to use that argument on me, now would he?  Probably tell me some fool thing like the boy would get lost in the night and he'd never be able to find him again."
 
Jim laughed at the joke.  Jason and Amaré smiled politely, not knowing what to think of her remarks.
 
The food, however, was excellent and they discovered that they were hungry.  They even ordered three slices of pie for desert.
 
To get Jason used to being naked, Jim thought up little tasks for him to do.  At the gas station he sent Jason in to pay and pick up a gallon of milk which they stashed in the cooler.  When they passed a donut shop, Jim sent Jason in by himself to place their order.  Jason was surprised to find a naked girl working behind the counter.  She must have been only 11 or 12 years old, but took the order, bagged the donuts, accepted his money and gave him change with a nonchalance and competence that betrayed years of experience.  This was the closest Jason had been to any other officially stripped person since arriving in Florida and he ached to ask her why, how, and what it felt like to be stripped in this tiny community.  Were there other stripped kids around that he just hadn't seen?  Too shy, Jason simply murmured "thank you, bye," and left.
 
Two hours down the road Jason asked, "How come I don't see any stripped kids.  We've been on the road most of the day and other than the girl behind the counter at the donut place, I'm the only one naked."
 
"Not to worry, Jason, we'll be getting into more populated areas soon.  Not very many people live in this part of Florida -- just thousands of people per county.  That may sound like a lot, but consider that probably as many people lived in your one neighborhood in New Jersey as in this entire county.  That's why we were able to enjoy wilderness and solitude.  Now we're going to enjoy the opposite!"
 
Jason seemed in somewhat of a funk, so at the next stop they all went in together.  An older man from India was behind the counter.  As he took their money for a few snacks and candy he looked over the boys and said, "Ah, now that brings back memories.  That's the way to be in summertime.  I grew up in Uganda before Idii Amin kicked out all the Indians.  We boys used to swim in the canal and run naked most of the summer."  He smiled at them, thinking of happier times. 
 
Amaré looked questioningly at Jim. 
 
"Uganda is not so terribly far from your old home --  same corner of Africa.  Amaré is originally from Ethiopia," explained Jim to the store owner. "His people got kicked out of their home, too.  The circumstances were different but here you are -- both of you in Northern Florida!"
 
The man nodded.  "Just remember to enjoy your youth -- it is very precious," he admonished.  "Be well!"
 
As they drove south the boys were each absorbed in their own individual thoughts.  Amaré caught in homesickness and memories of living among all his brothers, taking the cattle down to the river, inscribing one another with designs, laughing and running through the tall grass, finding bright feathers, leaves and berries to decorate their hair.  He loved Jim, and he was happy to have one brother again, but for him Florida was still empty of people and empty of animals -- like a beautiful container that everyone had left behind.
 
Jason's thoughts were much different.  Waking and wandering in the forest had been fun.  It was a totally new experience for him to be outdoors in the wild.  He was still nervous about alligators and wondered what other carnivorous creatures Jim and Amaré had failed to warn him of, but he was fascinated by the flocks of ibis, the slow moving herons and egrets stalking fish along the riverbanks, the turtles lined up on logs sunning themselves, diving off into the water one by one as he approached to get a closer look.  He liked his uncle's easy familiarity and quick laugh.  It was Amaré that confused him most and took up his thoughts, waking and sleeping.  The boy filled him, body and heart and soul.  Was this love?  Was it infatuation?  Amaré called him his brother.  Jason didn't have a brother or a sister, but he was pretty sure that what he felt wasn't the sort of thing brothers should be thinking about.  He was slowly coming to the conclusion that Amaré did not share the same feelings.  Sure, he woke with Amaré's hand around his penis, erect and hard in the morning.  Amaré expertly teased his dick hard with his fingernail when applying the clay decorations.  But even though the touch felt so intimate and sexual to Jason, nothing about Amaré's attitude suggested that he felt the same way toward Jason.  He acted as though the erection was needed just to get a better surface area to work on a design.  That their sleeping together -- even holding each other by the dick -- was a brotherly closeness.  Didn't Amaré need to come???  Just thinking about it would have gotten Jason hard, sitting there between the two of them in the truck, except that his depression was fighting with arousal.  He put his hands over his crotch just in case arousal won out. 
 
END PART 3
 
 



   
(The End)