Page 102 of Shroom for Improvement

We kept walking for another five to ten minutes. All the while I thought about how close to the three kilometre distance limit we must be. Several times I turned the compass over just to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently set the limit to thirty instead of three, despite knowing a tiny key was needed to change the dial.

The needle flipped to the left, then right, then to the top again, and then began going haywire. “Damn, I think it’s broken.”

I made to show Sonny, but he stood open-mouthed, staring ahead. I followed his gaze and almost tripped forward.

Our view was blanketed by enormous redwoods, but between the trunks a clearing revealed itself. Soft, white, sandy banks dropped away into a brilliant turquoise pool of water. Late afternoon sunlight twinkled off the surface like the tiles of a disco ball. At the far edge of the water, rocks jutted out at odd angles, some low and flat, some rounded off, and some rose up and up into a sheer cliff face. Tumbling down the centre, the most breathtaking, picture-perfect waterfall I’d ever seen. The entire scene could have been on a poster in a dentist’s waiting room, or the wallpaper of a travel agent’s PC.

Sonny and I inched forward until we were wedged between the trunks of two trees.

“It’s absolutely stunning,” he said quietly. In awe. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t really know what we were walking into... and now the gravity of what the compass said is sinking in. I shouldn’t have been so naive.”

“We don’t have to do anything like that,” I added quickly. “We can just sit... there and chat for a bit.” I pointed to a smooth rock next to the water. It was big enough to fit the both of us, and if I rolled my trouser legs up and took off my shoes andsocks, we might dangle our feet in the pool. Gods knew I needed to freshen up a little after that sweaty hike. “You never finished telling me about the sexual selection of mushrooms.”

Sonny smiled and bit his lip again. Damn, why was he always doing that? Give my poor insides a break, will you? He raced forward to the flat rock and threw his hoodie down, but instead of sitting on the edge, he whipped his T-shirt off, then pulled his trainers off by the heels, dropped them too, and his socks, and before I had a chance to even thinknot the shorts as well, he’d unbuckled his belt and let those fall to the ground.

“You can chat if you like. I’ve chatted enough recently,” he called out. “Think I’ll take a swim instead.” And with his back to me, he wiggled out of his underpants, one hand held over his junk, and he jumped into the once peacefully flat water.

I was left staring at the spot where Sonny had been, like the imprint from a camera flash. I wanted to burn it into my retinas. Tattoo his naked ass and his smiling face onto my brain.

He breached the surface and splashed an armful of water at me. “It’s warm! And pretty deep!” he yelled. “I can’t even reach the bottom. Can you swim?”

“Yeah, I can swim. Doesn’t mean I’m going to,” I said back.

But he didn’t wait for me to finish my sentence, his head was already under the surface again, and he swam farther away. I tried to peer through the water, but he kept kicking those never-ending legs, disrupting the flow and warping the view of his nakedness.

It was incredible. And frustrating. I wanted him to stop writhing around so I could gawp at every line of his figure. And I also wanted to stay on this rock and bask in Sonny’s happiness until nightfall forced him out of the pool.

I folded his clothes—his pants and shorts still held some body heat—tucked his socks into his trainers and alignedeverything into a neat little rectangle. Then I took a deep, inward breath.

I’d expected to arrive at a place like this. I hadn’t been as naive as Sonny. Didn’t imagine it would be as beautiful, but I’d known the compass would be literal. So what was I waiting for? Why was I so worried about joining him?

Sonny continued to splash and laugh. Then suddenly, he stopped, and floated up to the surface on his back. He spread his arms and legs out in a star shape, and spat water in a fountain-like arch above his head.

And there was his dick, right there, at the top of the water.

I tore my eyes away from him and did the only thing I could think to distract my desperate brain. I took my brogues off. Then my socks.

One look around our surroundings told me we were alone, though I already knew this. I felt the peace of being truly alone. No onlookers, no unsuspecting hikers, no Jenny. I turned my back on Sonny to pull down my braces, unbutton my waistcoat, my shirt. I dropped my cufflinks into my left shoe and the compass into the right. Folded my top-half clothes and arranged them next to his. I spared a glance over my shoulder. Sonny was treading water, his dick beneath the surface again, but he was watching me.

He wolf-whistled.

I paused for just a second, held my breath to give me a boost of courage, and I dropped my trousers and underpants together. There was no time to fold them before I turned and plunged into the pool.

Sonny was right, it was warm. So warm. Like sinking into a bath. One that had been left for an hour or two and the water was pleasant, but not skin-meltingly hot.

He splashed me, and we half swam, half drifted towards each other.

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” he said, breathless from the exertion. His petrol-coloured hair was glued to his forehead, the back sticking up at odd angles. Water ran in rivulets down his temples and the sides of his face. His cheeks were flushed.

“It really is,” I said, not taking my eyes off him. “We didn’t bring any towels.”

“We’ll have to drip dry then.” Then he splashed me again and swam away.

I chased him as best I could. But his limbs were infinitely longer than mine, and he’d obviously had a lot more experience in the water because he was at the base of the waterfall before I’d even switched my brain into gear. The closer I got to him, the higher the bottom of the pool became until I planted my feet on the sandy, weedy floor, my head and shoulders above the surface.

Sonny swam up to the rocks at the foot of the cliff and hauled himself out. Water gushed from every plane and curve of his body. Which was naked.

Perhaps I had not fully realised, or I had almost forgotten that Sonny being naked meant he was naked. Sonny was naked.

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