When I was 15, I spent 3 weeks of my summer vacation with my friend Jason (Not his real name) at the Jersey shore. Jason's parents owned a beachfront bungalow 1/2 mile from a popular boardwalk. We spent most of our days either hanging out at the boardwalk, swimming or just basking inthe sun. At night, we stayed up late in Jason's bedroom bullshiting and trying to impress each other with what little we actually understood about sex. We had each "discovered" masturbation on our own, and had cautiously breeched the subject in our late night discussions. One afternoon, we bribed one of the adult "characters" who frequented the boardwalk to buy us two bottles of cheap, sugary wine (Boone's Farm) and we hid underneath the boardwalk, quickly consuming the "evidence" to avoid being caught. The immediate effect was predictable: we both became gloriously drunk! The subsequent effect was also predictable: Jason lost his cookies and puked all over himself. Fearing the thought of returning to the bungalow and having to explain matters to Jason's mother, I devised a plan to first clean Jason up. I would give him my pants to replace his soiled outfit and I would wear the bathing suit I had on underneath. We went in to a public rest room to change. It had those damn coin-operated pay toilets so we were forced to crawl under the stall door to get in. Although we got looks from others in the rest room, we made it. (CONTINUED in Part II.)