Depth of Field
Chapter 4: Strays

Copyright© 2014 by Ryan Sylander

Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 4: Strays - Picking up where Looking Through The Lens ends, Matt's interest in fishing, music, and photography brings him close to friends both new and old. A summer camping trip challenges him with new experiences and blurred lines. As he tries to untangle the mischievous schemes of his long-distance girlfriend and his sister, Matt finds that sex, drugs & rock'n'roll are a heady but dangerous mix. To understand this story, you need to be familiar with LTTL; please read that story first! Edited by pcb

Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   School   Exhibitionism   Oral Sex   Voyeurism   Public Sex   Caution   Slow  

As we prepared dinner, Alana and her friends pulled up in their car on their way out of the campground. Alana expressed her jealousy at missing the impending meal, Megan griped about the hour, Alana rolled her eyes as she waved one last time, and then they drove off. Just like that, I knew I’d never see her again. There was a feeling of deep relief to that realization. Even if I’d done nothing wrong, I didn’t think it was wise to keep pushing the boundaries. If I made a mistake, I’d never forgive myself. This episode is over and it’s for the best.

The pan-fried trout were as tasty as the previous night’s, even if we didn’t have the benefit of Alana’s impromptu smoker. Sated, Lara and I loafed at the table for a while. I started feeling less paranoid about the events of weekend, now that Alana was gone. Fortunately, Lara didn’t dwell on them any longer, either.

I realized that it was growing darker. Our last evening at camp was approaching and I didn’t want to waste it. After dumping my plate into the plastic wash bin, I seized the spinning rod from where Lara had leaned it up against a tree.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Lara called out as I rushed toward the river’s edge.

“What do you think?”

My pole!”

“What? You said you were going to read!” I reminded her.

“I still might fish in a bit.”

I looked at the approaching sunset, giving her a dubious look. “It’s getting late.”

“So? I caught those three pretty quick this afternoon.”

“Whatever. I’ll be fishing right out here, so just come get me when you want to use it.”

“Oh, so you’re going to steal my spot now, too?” she mocked.

I smirked at her as I marched off.

“What happened to practicing your fly-fishing for Heather?” Lara’s voice yelled out, followed shortly by, “Remember, it’s five to two, bro! Good luck with that!”

I waved my free hand over my shoulder as I strode away, making sure to extend the longest digit.

Once I found a good spot to stand, I started fishing again. Perhaps an hour of light remained. I was hoping that I’d have better luck than I’d had that morning. As the minutes went by with no action, my thoughts wandered.

I was still a little worried about telling Heather of my afternoon with Alana, but I was much more worried about having to admit that I’d been outfished by Lara. Even though there were several things in Lara’s favor – not least of which was my choice to spend over two hours with Alana instead of working the water – I could already hear Heather’s response to my defeat: “Five to two? Really? I guess when I get there I’m going to have to fish with Lara!” Then, as always, I’d find myself trying to argue my case, finding each dubious excuse dismissed as easily as the trout had rejected my fly. So it would go, until I ran out of defenses, only to be reminded that she was just teasing to begin with. And then retold the score one last time, of course.

I laughed out loud at the thought. I was very much looking forward to calling Heather when I got home the following evening. We agreed to call each other once or twice a week, since I was concerned about relying on letters like I’d done with Julie. Even though the phone was no substitute for being together, it was unquestionably better than trying to imagine her voice by reading her words.

Lara and I had never requested a weekly allowance – nor had it been offered when we were growing up – but when I’d asked to exchange some housework for long-distance credit, the idea met with no resistance at all from my mothers. I started into some of their wish list projects the day after arriving back home from Montauk, finding the toil to be easier when the promise of Heather’s voice tickling my ear was attached to it.

There was some peril to speaking on the phone, however. Even in our first conversation, a few days earlier, there were moments when Heather had turned naughty. I’d squelched it at once, unwilling to risk an eavesdropper on another handset. I doubted my parents would do such a thing intentionally, but still: even a brief pickup of the phone to check the line could reveal an embarrassing phrase. At the same time, I knew it was futile to try to restrain Heather. She might listen to my warnings for a few more calls, but eventually I’d be listening to her desires instead. She had this uncanny ability to find the weakness in my control and then slide in and take over. And then it was too late. There I would be, having sex on the pier, leaping into shark-infested waters...

Or, jumping off a rock while stoned. Or playing with myself as my sister did the same thing, right next to me. Hmm ... Maybe it wasn’t such an uncanny ability after all.

“Are you touching yourself?” That’s how she’d probably start.

“Heather,” I’d warn.

“You are!” Eyes surely wide with glee.

And so on. After somehow getting me to admit it – even if I wasn’t actually doing anything – I’d ask her if she was caressing herself.

“Of course not! You said: ‘Nothing naughty over the phone,’” she would explain primly.

There was at least one thing that I did have to imagine over the phone: her glance. Without that little confirmation, things were always less certain.

“What would you do to me if you were here?” she might ask.

After I’d try to offer some tame propositions, she’d carefully but unavoidably steer the exchange back to the sexual. Inevitably I’d find myself with a few figurative fingers inside of her.

Then, “Ok, my turn!” she’d exclaim, somehow sliding downward along my body even over the phone.

‘My turn!’ And then—

“Hello, Matt? My turn!”

I whirled around, surprised to see Lara right behind me. For some reason the world was spiraling sideways. Strange, that... Then I realized that I’d slipped. I fell to the river, smashing my hip against one of the stones and issuing a cry of pain. After staring at me in shock for a moment, Lara helped me up.

“What the hell was that?” she asked.

“Shit, you scared me!” I cried, regaining my feet awkwardly.

Lara winced. “Sorry! Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said, gingerly rubbing my side. “I’ll probably have a bruise, though.”

“You said to come get you when I wanted to fish,” she reminded me.

“Yeah, but you didn’t have to sneak up on me!”

“I didn’t! I called out from the bank. Then I came out, because I thought you were ignoring me on purpose so you could keep fishing. You didn’t even hear me when I was right behind you. I said ‘My turn’ twice before you went for the faceplant!”

“Oh. Well, I’m okay. I just didn’t hear you. Here,” I said, handing her the pole.

“Did you catch anything?”

“No.”

“It’s not a fly rod, you know,” she scolded.

I frowned at her, not understanding. “What?”

“You were just standing out here with the line let out,” she explained. “You have to reel in, so that the silver thingy spins.”

I shook my head, clearing the surprise out of it. “I know that. I was just ... thinking, I guess, and forgot I was fishing.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Uh, Heather actually.”

“Oh. No wonder.”

She giggled and flicked her gaze downward at my wet bathing suit. I was chagrined to see that my penis was awkwardly positioned, the remnant of arousal still apparent. Within a moment I’d fixed it, but Lara remained amused.

“Sorry,” I muttered, feeling the warmth rise to my face as I turned away from her. I wondered what state it had been in before I fell into the cold water. I decided it was wisest to head for shore.

“It’s no big deal. I’ve seen it before,” Lara remarked nonchalantly. “I know you get horny when we swim sometimes.”

I whirled to look at her. More carefully, though, so as not to repeat my pathetic fall. “What?”

“When we swim at the creek, back at home. Sometimes you get hard there.”

I opened my mouth, closed it, and then opened it again.

“It’s not a big deal,” Lara repeated, interrupting my foolish chewing. “I get horny too. How can I not, though? You’re always talking about sex. It’s like your favorite topic.”

Her frank tone was incongruent.

My favorite topic?”

“Well, yeah. You’re talking about it now. You were talking about it before you went to fish. You were talking about it last night. Also a bunch of times last week. And most of our vacation in Montauk, if you really think about it, asking me how things work and all that. All sex, all the time with you, it seems.”

“That’s because you’re always bringing it up!” I blurted out.

She shrugged. “No one’s forcing you to.”

I was unsure whether to laugh, or to run and hide. “I’m going to go change out of this suit,” I managed.

Lara took my hand. “Let me help.”

“Oh, quit teasing all the time!” I cried out, exasperated.

She looked at me in apparently genuine astonishment. “I was talking about helping you to the shore,” she explained patiently. “Like, if you wanted a hand for balance, because your hip is hurting.”

I stared at her for a long moment. “Oh, sorry. But you’re always saying crazy shit, so I thought you meant something else.” The defensiveness in my tone disappeared. “I’m okay to walk,” I said, more calmly. I let go of her hand.

“All right.”

“I’ll see you back at the camp?”

Lara smiled as she cast out the line. As I picked my way along the rocks, rubbing my pained hip on occasion, I heard a whoop from behind.

“Yeah, yeah, six-two,” I groaned, not even turning to confirm the catch.


I had a fire roaring when Lara returned from the river. After her quick catch, the water had grown quiet again. She’d had no further luck.

“Mm, nice and toasty,” she cooed, pausing to warm herself near the flames before continuing on toward the tent. “I’ll be right out.”

While Lara changed, I pulled out the bag of marshmallows that Alana and her friends had gifted us. After finding a few good sticks and whittling some fresh points on them, I settled into a chair. Lara soon emerged from the tent and sat next to me.

“Thanks for doing the dishes,” I murmured. “I was going to do them when I got back from fishing.”

“No prob. Thanks for cooking the fish earlier. You know, it’s pretty cool that our moms didn’t stop by this weekend,” Lara remarked.

“Yeah, I know. I really expected them to come see how we were doing.”

“Good thing they didn’t show up and hike to the boulder, huh?”

“Funny.”

“I know, isn’t it? Well, I guess they’re taking advantage of their time alone.”

“Probably,” I agreed.

“I wonder if they have sex out in the rest of the house when we’re not there.”

I jabbed a finger at her, my eyes wide. “Okay, did you just hear that?”

“Hear what?”

You brought up sex. Not me.”

“So?”

“Earlier you said it was my favorite topic!” I explained triumphantly.

“It is. You’re the one talking about it.”

“No! You are!”

“I just made an observation,” Lara dismissed. “Now you’re going on and on about it.”

“On and on?” I stared at her for a moment as she ate her marshmallow. “There’s no way for me to win, is there?”

Lara shook her head, swallowing the white cream and letting out an excessively content sigh. “Damn, that’s good.”

“Okay,” I muttered. “Good to know.”

Lara just speared another treat on the end of her stick. “Aren’t you going to toast any?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and grabbed a rubbery marshmallow from the bag.

“You’re too close,” she said, dismissing my choice of placement right near the red coals.

“Nah. That’s where the true skill comes in. Watch, and learn,” I said dramatically.

Lara shrugged. “So anyway, like I was saying, I wonder if they have sex around the house?”

Reluctantly, I resumed the conversation. “You mean like on the couches?”

“Yeah. Or in the laundry room.”

“Say what?”

“You know, on the washing machine.”

“You’ve tried that?” I asked, dubious.

“Yeah, me and James were all over Aunt Beth’s machine, every time she washed her clothes!”

I chuckled at the image.

“No, I haven’t,” Lara continued, “but I bet the vibrations would be interesting.”

“Hmm. Maybe ... Oh, fuck!”

My marshmallow had flared up from inattention. Lara laughed wickedly at the conflagration. Before I could retort, her perfectly golden attempt was hovering in front of my mouth. I grunted, grudgingly appreciative as I ate it.

“Thanks,” I muttered sheepishly.

“No problem. You taught me everything I need to know about toasting them!”

We spent some time in quiet, roasting more of the sweet treats. I didn’t waver from my original cooking method, but even when I ate my best one, I had to concede that it was not quite as sublime as the one Lara had shared with me. Not that I admitted that to her!

Eventually, we’d eaten our fill. The darkness of night shrunk our world down to the small sphere illuminated by the dwindling flames: Lara, me, the near outlines of our tent and the picnic table, and a few surrounding trees. The river and the breeze were still in our ears, though unseen.

“Do you think Heather smokes pot?” Lara asked me.

I considered. “I don’t know. Never talked about it.”

“I wonder what she’ll say.”

“After she breaks up with me for swimming with Alana, the weed won’t really matter, will it?”

Lara sniggered. “Funny. She won’t care about the swimming.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I just know. As long as you’re not doing anything like that without her knowing.”

“She doesn’t know what I did yet.”

“She will when you tell her. I guess I meant, doing anything without telling her about it right away.”

Something about that wasn’t making sense, but it was still more comforting than the alternative so I let it go.

“Does she drink?” Lara asked.

“Well, she had some wine at dinner with us. I don’t know. We didn’t really drink when we were out. Didn’t need to.”

“Oh, poor Julie. Ouch!”

“Hey, I didn’t mean it that way,” I said honestly.

“I know. I think it’s cool that you didn’t have to get drunk to have fun. Seems like that was the only thing I did with James, besides fuck.”

I laughed. “True.”

We were silent for some time, staring at the sparks that were aperiodically propelled into the night air. Worry crept back into my thoughts.

“Do you think she’ll be mad at me for smoking?” I asked.

“I don’t know. She seems pretty open minded.”

“Yeah. Still, maybe she has something against it.”

“I don’t know. You’ll find out tomorrow when you talk to her, I guess!”

“I guess so.” After a pause, I spoke again. “Alana said having sex when you’re high is really cool.”

Lara considered me for a moment before answering. “Really.”

“So she said.”

“Sounds like she wanted to demonstrate it.”

“No, I don’t think so. She told me that after I told her about Heather.”

Lara dismissed the information with a shake of her head. “Doesn’t mean much. Here she is, alone with you, middle of nowhere, probably will never see you again. If you said yes, I bet she would’ve been all over you. Do you really think she cares too much if you have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, actually.”

“Well, okay. You know her better.”

“She gave me a joint, so I could try it with Heather.”

Lara bolted up and looked at me. “What?”

“When we were walking back, before we got to the camp. She pulled one out and gave it to me. Told me to use it with my girl.”

“Whoa. What did you say?”

“I said thanks.”

Lara leaned closer, her eyes wide. “You mean you took it?”

“Yeah.”

“No shit! Where did you put it?”

“It’s in a fly box, inside of my vest.”

Lara glanced toward where my fishing attire hung from a tree limb. “Wow.”

“What’s the big deal?”

Lara composed herself and settled into her chair again. “I don’t know. Sorry. I didn’t mean to get all excited. But, it is ... interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“I guess we’re getting into this, huh?”

“What, smoking pot?”

“Yeah.”

“Not really,” I said. “But anyway, I’m not sure what to do.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s one thing to smoke it at a party, or out here. It’s different having a joint hidden under my bed.”

“So that’s where you keep your porn!”

“I don’t have any porn.” I gave Lara a look, which she deflected with a grin. “Anyway, it’s a little, I don’t know, dangerous.”

 
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