Matthew figured he had to get Lukas to pack a bag. He had to get Lukas to put a towel and some trunks in a bag, and even get him to lock the bag into the trunk of the car before Lukas would understand that he was ready to go to the beach.

There was no way Lukas was going to go without trunks again. He wasn’t going to embarrass himself like that in front of Matthew, but it was so much effort to convince him to pack a bag, and lock it in the trunk of the car before he phoned Matthew, that Matthew felt like hitting him. The only problem with that was that he was in Lukas’ body.

I don’t even know if I’m going yet, Lukas said to himself.

Matthew told Lukas that Matthew would agree if Lukas had the bag all ready, and locked in the trunk of the car. Not that Lukas should tell Matthew this. Of course not. But if Lukas had the bag locked in the trunk of the car, Matthew would agree to go today, somehow, superstitiously.

This worked, but it was so much effort to tussle with Lukas’ thoughts when Lukas didn’t want to do something that Matthew was exhausted.

Matthew could do it himself, of course. He could pack the bag and put it in the car, but Lukas wouldn’t know, then, that he had done it.

Lukas decided not only to take a towel, and trunks, but to take shampoo and conditioner. He hated that feeling of salt water in his hair.

In the end, he had a pair of speedos, two towels, shampoo, conditioner, a book, sunglasses, his ipod, and his phone.

Matthew took the phone out. That was simply stupid. It wasn’t like he was going to forget his phone, and he would need it, anyway, in order to ring Matthew.

He could use the house phone.

Do you know his number?

He didn’t.

Lukas ran downstairs, opened the trunk, put the bag in it, and slammed it.

Matthew unlocked it, pulled the bag out, found a space at the end of the bench where Lukas wouldn’t see it, chucked it there, under the box with the wood in it, and walked back around to the back of the car. He slammed the trunk, letting go of Lukas as he did this, though still, Lukas was somehow unsure of what had just happened. There was a sort of double slamming of the trunk.

Was the bag really in there?

Of course it was, Matthew said. You just put it in there.

Lukas decided he was being stupid. Of course the bag was in there.

He went upstairs, sat on his bed, and tried to find the courage to phone Matthew.

He didn’t even want to go to the beach.

Just do it, Matthew said.

Lukas punched the number, and Matthew exhaled with relief.

He jerked in the bed, hearing his phone ring, tried to get hold of where he was, closed his eyes, ripped the glasses off his head, opened his eyes, and fumbled for the phone.

The strobe light was ticking.

Matthew felt weak, and disoriented. He had been sweating heavily, and he had a headache. It was hardly worth the fucking effort, he said to himself as he found the phone, trying to make Lukas do shit he didn’t want to, though he was half wondering, even so, whether it would really be Lukas who was calling.

It didn’t seem possible.

It was.

‘Hey,’ Matthew said, weak and groggy. ‘I was just about to phone you. I was thinking we could up the coast again, if you want to.’

‘Yeah? That’s weird. I was just going to ask you the same thing.’

‘So you want to?’

He did.

Matthew told him he would be over as soon as he was ready. ‘Are you ready?’ he said.

Lukas was.

Matthew lay back down again and felt like going to the beach was the last thing he wanted to do. He felt awful. That had been so much fucking effort. His brain was aching.

Why the fuck had he bothered?

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he said.

He got up to turn the strobe off and opened the curtain. And then he threw himself onto his bed again.

He was naked, and his cock was hard as a rock. A solid bar of iron.

‘Man, you’ve got to get off these things,’ he said.

He pushed his chin down on his chest and looked at his cock. It seemed to be bigger. Was it possible that it was growing, that all this pulling himself was making him bigger? He didn’t feel like touching it right now, but had to. There was no way he was going to get it to go down unless he pulled himself a couple of times before he went. And he’d have to sit in Lukas’ car all day and be at the beach.

Man, he was going to be pegging for a pull all day.

He reached down and put his hand on it. There was already a long line of precum stretching from it onto his stomach. It was all over him, and all through his sheets. There was dry, glistening come everywhere, all over his room, in his jeans, in his shorts, caked dry in tissues which he had been throwing onto the floor.

He jerked his cock back once, twice, being gentle. He thought of what it would be like today, with Lukas in those jocks. He thought of how Lukas was wearing them now, how he didn’t even know he was wearing them.

The thought of this made him come.

He got up and had a shower, and pulled himself in the shower, imagining cutting Lukas’ sack of with the saw. This was the best thing. It had come so close to being real. He had really stood there, with that saw in his hand, holding it right up next to Lukas’ gear. He could have cut all of Lukas’ gear off.

He came, thinking about how he had stood there, and imagining, once again, what it would have been like to saw through Lukas’ cock and sack. Imagining Lukas’ balls in the vice. Imagining Lukas’ cock and balls in the vice while he sawed.

He came.

That was what started it, he said to himself, washing his hair, after he had come again. If that had never happened. If he hadn’t ever seen Lukas with that padlock on, hadn’t ever used that saw on him, touched his nuts, pushed them through that padlock, he wouldn’t be thinking of this shit all the time. Still, though, the thought of it all, the thought of Lukas’ balls in his fingers, made his cock spring up again. He waited till he had started on the conditioner, and pulled himself again.

He had to be careful. On Saturday he had rubbed himself raw. It had hurt like hell. He had to keep it down to three or four slow jerks. Ten at the most.

While he was getting dressed, when he had a T-shirt on, but was naked below the waist, he found this sexy, his nakedness, and had to pull himself a fourth time since Lukas had rung. He supposed it had been ten or fifteen minutes at the most. It was good. It was the best thing about the tablets. The worst thing was how he was going to have to go all day without pulling himself again.

It was only ten-thirty.

When Matthew arrived at Lukas’ place, Lukas opened the door and did a double take.

‘Wow, you look different,’ he said.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah. You look really good.’

Matthew didn’t know what this could mean. In Lukas’ eyes he already looked like a god. He supposed it was the tablets. They cleared his eyes and made his skin look healthy. And he felt confident, like he could do anything.

When they got to the beach, Lukas asked him to pop the trunk. He had said, before they left, that he had his gear in there, everything packed. Matthew had simply nodded.

Now, parked overlooking the beach, Matthew popped the trunk, wondering how the hell Lukas was going to react, wondering how the hell he was going to react, when Lukas found that there was nothing in there.

Matthew half expected Lukas to come back with the bag.

He sat in the front seat, busying himself with his own pack, looking through it like he was checking to see whether he had everything he needed.

‘It’s not there,’ Lukas said, after he had opened the passenger door, got in again, and closed it.

‘What?’ Matthew said, making it sound like he didn’t know what Lukas meant.

‘My bag. It’s not in the trunk.’

‘Did you put it there?’

‘I’m sure I did.’

Matthew turned around and looked behind the seats, though it was obvious the bag couldn’t be there when he had put his own bag there.

‘Are you sure it’s not there?’

‘It’s empty.’

‘Well you can’t have put it in there. It’s not like anyone would have stolen it.’

Lukas descended into a stony silence.

‘Have you got your wallet?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well you’ve got jocks on, haven’t you?’

Lukas nodded, but Matthew figured he was going to cry.

‘Well, you can swim in those. You swam in jocks last week. It’s not like it matters.’

‘I didn’t do it on purpose,’ Lukas said, looking at Matthew suddenly. His eyes were wet.

Matthew frowned. ‘Why would you do it on purpose?’

‘I wouldn’t. I didn’t.’ He stumbled. ‘I just forgot it.’

‘Well you should have just said so. It’s not like I’m going to care. I don’t care if you swim in your jocks.’

‘I don’t want to,’ Lukas said. ‘I mean, I will, because I forgot my stuff, but it’s not like I want to.’

Matthew frowned again.

‘You’re making a big deal out of nothing,’ he said.

Lukas nodded.

They got out of the car and Lukas said,

‘Maybe that shop’s open.’

Matthew hit the lock for the doors.

‘It won’t be,’ he said. ‘It said it was closed on weekdays.’ Matthew had read the sign last week. He hadn’t thought about the shop, and he stopped for a moment when Lukas said it, but it was Tuesday. The shop wouldn’t be open. It was only open on the weekends.

‘We could go and have a look,’ Lukas said.

‘If you want.’

They walked along the esplanade and turned the corner into James Street, which was the only other street in Whale Beach. It was paved with cobble stones, so cars couldn’t drive into it, and blocked off in a square at the other end. It was about a hundred metres long and went nowhere. Behind it was national park, which went all the way out to the highway, and all along the coast to Locust. There were tables in the centre of the street, shaded by sails, and a sign saying “Whale Beach Village”, though there were maybe only ten or fifteen shops at the most. Most of them were cafés.

Matthew was so sure that the shop would be closed that when he saw that the door was open he didn’t believe it could be. There was a void where the glass door should have been. And he wanted to will it filled with glass, as though this was somehow possible.

‘It’s open,’ Lukas said.

The silly bitch who ran it had decided to come in for an hour or two as it was such a hot day and there were so many people about. She was an overly happy fat woman with too orange hair and a blousy dress tied in a bow under her sloppy breasts. She greeted them with a deranged smile, and wanted to talk to them. There was lipstick on her teeth, and she was sweating.

Matthew bit his lips, thinking how fucked up it was that Lukas was wearing those jocks when her shop was open. The only good thing about coming in here was that he’d finally gotten rid of his erection. He’d had it the whole way up in the car, and it had been fucking uncomfortable. He’d worn the baggiest board shorts he had, but had put on a jockstrap underneath them, thinking it would help to hide his cock if he had it angled up to one side, and compressed by how tight the jock strap was. He had also thought how it would be if Lukas lost his jocks again and had to get out wearing Matthew’s jockstrap. It would’ve been pretty funny seeing him walk up onto the beach wearing that.

Lukas chose a pair of designer speedos. Pale blue. He didn’t even try them on. They cost him a hundred and fifteen dollars. Matthew couldn’t see how they could possibly cost so much when there was nothing to them, no pattern, or anything. They were just blue speedos.

It wasn’t till Lukas got in the water that Matthew realised they were see-through, see-through in the rear, anyway, and at the hips. They had a double layer of fabric in a strip down the front, which was fucking annoying. They looked okay, but there was no way Lukas was losing them. They had a cord. They weren’t going to come down. And it wasn’t like Matthew could see his cock and balls like he had last week. He could see the outline of them. Could see Lukas’ little cock making a tiny little tent, and between his legs, his pouch in the speedos. But it wasn’t the same.

Matthew felt like hitting the bitch, felt like smashing her shop up, while Lukas looked on the racks. What was the point of having trading hours if you didn’t stick to them?

The only really good thing about the day was the change room. After Lukas had paid, they walked down to the change room on the esplanade. Matthew followed Lukas in and sat down on the bench.

Lukas hesitated, and then he peeled his runners off, his socks off. He unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down, pushed them over his knees, and pulled them over his feet, while Matthew looked at the jocks he had dressed Lukas in this morning.

He realised, as he saw them, how beyond belief it would have been if Lukas had gone on the beach in them. He had been wearing them under his jeans for hours and his balls were bulging out at the sides. Matthew could see right up into his groin. And the ladder at the front made his cock look like there was nothing covering it. It almost looked like it was poking out.

Lukas folded his jeans up and put them on the bench. And it was only as he put his hands up to his waist, to pull down his jocks, when he looked down at what he was doing, that he realised what he was wearing.

Matthew found that funny, watching Lukas hesitate, confused. He turned around quickly when he realised what he had on. And when he turned, Matthew saw how the jocks were caught right up in Lukas’ arse. They were just a triangle across the top of it. Matthew pressed the heel of his hand against his cock as Lukas pulled the jocks down. Lukas’ pink arsehole.

He came.

And then, as Lukas stood up again, Matthew saw his little cock, his little hairless groin. Lukas stood there, in front of him, folding the little jocks up, folding the groin up, and folding the edges in, while his little cock wobbled.

By the time Lukas pulled the speedos on, which fit him perfectly, Matthew had come into his jockstrap again.

It was so much better being outside Lukas. Watching him while he was in his own body. So much better than being in Lukas’ body, doing stuff to Lukas.

He wanted to do something to Lukas.

He wanted to crush his nuts.

Bite them, if he could, and crush them between his teeth.

Bite them off, and swallow them.

Bite Lukas’ cock off, and swallow that.

He imagined the grating feeling between his teeth, as Lukas was doing the cord on the speedos up, and pulling his T-shirt over his head.

Matthew closed his eyes, and leant back against the wall, feeling his cock throb, emptying come into his jockstrap.

He hadn’t even touched it.