Part 50

Over dinner, mom wasn’t meaning to hog the whole damn convo but I thought she was never gonna stop asking Kyle and Steve questions about South Africa and what life was like there. Kyle had often told me in his emails about his city’s lawlessness, and how lots of squatters would make their homes in tunnels beneath the roads near the beach. Nobody ever walked the back streets alone at night. It was far too dangerous. He’d also mentioned how the SA rand was becoming increasingly worthless compared to the US dollar. A pair of jeans, for example, could cost about 300 rand. But both Kyle and Steve kept avoiding mom’s questions and, instead, concentrated on talking about surfing. It was their culture; their life.

"How’s your friend Paul doing? The one who went to England with his family?"

"Oh, he’s doing OK, ma’am. Doesn’t like the weather much, though, and really misses the surf. He could ride his stick like it was glued to his feet."

"Oh! So, that’s what it is! I’ve seen surfers rubbing stuff on their "sticks" as you call them. I didn’t realize it was glue."

We all totally cracked.

"Well, one thing’s for sure, ma’am," Kyle said after swallowing a mouthful of roast chicken, "Steve and I sure do appreciate your hospitality. Your cooking rules."

"Oh, it’s nothing, boys. Just the same as we usually have. And call me Nancy. Anyway, I want you to feel completely at home while you’re here. Our home is your home." Mom turned her attention to me. "Which reminds me, Daniel, you and Paul will have to sleep on the sofa. Your friends can have your room."

"Cool, mom, but is it OK if Paul and me sleep in the tent?"

"Paul and I. And, yes, it’s OK. Actually, I wish I could join you. It’s been so hot lately."

After helping mom do the dishes, we watched Kyle’s home surfing videos while Steve gave us a running commentary on every manoeuvre. Most of it was in ‘surf speak’ so he and Kyle were the only ones who understood it all. His enthusiasm, though, was really infectious, and his jokes kicked ass. He was a totally funny guy and gave us all the impression that, even though he was a rave surfer, he hadn’t let his awesome talent go to his head. For the whole two hours, he couldn’t resist describing the video without standing between us and the TV, then moving his body to mimic what was on the screen. He had energy and personality to burn. Top dude.

Later, we guys stripped and hit the pool again for a time before pitching the tent. We were gonna have to get an early night because tomorrow was the first day of the swim meet. Meantime, Canine Kyle was making a big fuss of my SA buds.

"Neat dog, man," Steve said as he roughed up the energetic ball of black and white fur, "and better looking than the dude you named him after."

In a second, human Kyle and Steve were wrestling on the lawn, laughing like crazy as they rolled around. What a fucking hot sight that was! There was just enough glow from the pool lights to see their tanned bods writhing and kicking as they took turns at pinning each other to to the ground. It had been months since I’d seen Kyle’s cute buns spread, revealing his delicious, wrinkled rosebud. I felt like fucking him right there on the spot, and my boner wasn’t making any secret of the thoughts going on in my head.

Never a dude to waste an opportunity, Paul knelt on the grass in front of me and started sucking my monster. When Steve saw what was happening, he blushed slightly and tried to ignore the fact that my dick was half way down Paul’s throat.

"It’s getting late, guys," he said as he untangled himself from Kyle. "And I’m still kind of jet lagged. See you in the morning." Kyle followed him into the house as Paul kept his magic, firm lips sliding up and down my rock-hard shaft. We were both too preoccupied with what we were doing to say anything, so we just waved the guys goodnight.

Paul’s tongue was setting my cock head on fire as I ran my fingers through his jet black hair. I couldn’t help thinking back to Kyle’s butt or, for that matter, Steve’s when they were wrestling. They were both awesome looking guys. But Paul soon brought me back to the present when his hand reached up to massage my pecs and nipples while his other fondled my balls. He knew exactly how to electrify my whole body and to get my undivided attention.

"Oh, fuck!" I pulled Paul’s head to my crotch as my throbber swelled and jetted its mighty load of boy juice into his face. "Aaahhhhh!" I could hear him gagging and swallowing as each wad exploded from my tender, swollen knob. His hands, by this time, had reached around to my buns, and I could feel his finger exploring my hole as the last of my sticky milk drained from my balls. Whoa!

As my boner was getting lazy in Paul’s mouth, I noticed ‘that’ look in his smiling, blue eyes. It made me laugh a little because I knew exactly what he was thinking. I let my piss go and watched it bubble out of the corners of his lips.

"It’s Steve! Are you guys still awake?"

"Shit!" I leaned forward and pushed open the tent flap. "What fucking time is it?"

"Sorry, man, I had to wait ‘til Kyle was asleep."

"It’s fucking late, man. We’ve got the meet tomorrow. What do you want?"

"You gotta minute? I just wanna talk for a bit."

With Steve inside the crowded tent, we all had to sit with our legs crossed. Paul and I were naked but Steve was wearing his boxer shorts. I angled my watch toward the open flap. There was just enough light to see what time it was -- 12:10am.

"It’s just that you guys... well, you know, I mean Paul was sucking your dick and, like, it was as though it was totally natural and like you guys do it all the time."

"We get around to occasionally."

"Well, it fucking blew me away, man, because I’ve never seen anything like that before."

It was pretty obvious from what Steve was saying that he and Kyle had never had sex together. I figured I’d better not say anything about the stuff that had happened in Cape Town when I was there with the swim team in case Steve didn’t know anything about it.

"You looked kind of embarrassed."

"I was, I guess, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it when I got to bed. I just had to come out here and talk to you guys."

"About what?" I teased.

The kid studied his nervous hands for a moment. "Well, about what it’s like."

"For who?" Paul asked with a wicked grin. "For me or Daniel?"

"Can I tell you guys something? But you’ve gotta promise you won’t tell Kyle."

"K," we replied in unison.

"Kyle’s straight, right? Well, at least I think he is. I am, too. I mean, we’re both straight. We’ve got girlfriends. But when we go surfing together, it’s like we’re bros, y’know, like real close. When I watch him tubing, like in a curl, he looks so fucking awesome -- and I know he thinks the same about me, because he’s said so. So, it’s like we admire each other a whole bunch but in a kind of physical way. It’s kind of hard to explain..."

"I know what you mean, dude. When I saw Kyle surfing in Cape Town, I thought he ruled big time. A god."

"That’s it! A god! That’s what it’s like. Anyway, I kind of think about him when I’m in bed sometimes. I get hard thinking about him on a wave -- then later in the showers when I see him nude -- and I jack off in bed thinking about him. But it’s not like I’m gay or anything."

Paul interrupted. "Do you think about blowing him?"

"I think about both of us blowing each other -- that’s why when I saw you guys tonight it was just so totally fucking awesome! I mean, there you were just like it was the most natural thing in the world." He shook his head in disbelief. "Awesome!"

"Did you talk to Kyle about it when you went to my room," I asked.

"No fucking way, man! I don’t want Kyle to think I’m fucking gay! He’d fucking kill me!"

"You’ve never talked about you getting hard thinking about him?"

"Are you kidding? Never!" Steve shook his head like I’d just accused him of wearing lipstick in secret.

"And he’s never told you that he gets hard thinking about you?"

"What?" he laughed. "Kyle? Get hard thinking about me? No way, man."

"How do you know he doesn’t? Has anybody ever told you that you’ve got a hot bod?"

"Yeah!" Paul agreed. "You’re one hot looking dude, Steve. Totally kewl!"

Our blunt comments were a little too much for Steve to cope with. He just sat there silently contemplating his nervous hands again, obviously searching his young brain for answers. Finally, he raised his head and swept his long, blonde curls from his face. "You reckon he might?"

I answered with a smile. I figured this was something he had to work out for himself. As he backed out of the tent, he paused at the flap. "You didn’t answer my question. What’s it feel like?"

"I’m betting you’ll be able to tell us the answer to that in the morning. Night, Steve."

I’d never seen so many people at the school pool. The grandstands weren’t all that big, but they were packed with hundreds of wellwishers from both Kyle’s and our teams. There was something about the sight of so many teens in Speedos and the smell of chlorinated water that made the whole event rock something wild. You could almost feel the excitement in the air.

Kyle was a year older than I was so we were competing in different races. I watched him from a distance preparing for the 100 meter butterfly. He hadn’t changed his style since the last meet in Cape Town; he still preferred to be alone and incommunicado before a race. He always became very private as he psyched himself up. It was like he was in some kind of trance. I was hoping he’d glance at me so that I could wish him luck but he kept his gaze on the wet tiles as he loosened his arm and shoulder muscles. Even when he did look up, his eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular.

He joined the other nine guys on the blocks, leaned forward and waited for the starter’s buzzer. It was an even start. By the time they’d reached the 50 meter wall in a flurry of foam, Kyle was third. He tumble-turned and came out second. It was basically a two-man race with Kyle touching the 100 meter wall 1.5 seconds after the guy from our team.

By late afternoon, Kyle, Paul and I had all qualified for the semis tomorrow. Kyle had come third in the freestyle, Paul got a second and a third in the free and the fly, and I got a first and a third.

Now that the pressure had been relaxed a little for the time being, I began to think about last night in the tent and whether anything had happened between Steve and Kyle. The whole day had gone so fast and had been so busy, there hadn’t been an opportunity to talk about anything except the swimming. Even after mom had driven us home -- and I’d demonstrated my superior driving skills through the gates and into the garage -- we were all in the kitchen, naked except for our shorts, helping mom prepare her home-made pizza.

"Hello?" I said, answering the phone. "Oh, hi Andy. Yeah, the meet went really well. We all made the semis tomorrow. Cool, huh? Hang, I’ll get mom."

The guys and I continued slicing the pepperoni, mushrooms, onions and whatever until mom hung up the phone. "Well, boys, it looks like Greg will be getting my share of the pizza. Andy’s invited me to dinner. They’ll be here in a few minutes."

I couldn’t believe this! My first chance to really spend some time with Kyle and the house was being invaded! I was becoming increasingly curious about what might have happened between Kyle and Steve last night but it seemed like I was never gonna get a chance to find out! Damn!

"That’s way cool about you guys making the semis tomorrow," Greg said as we heard Andy’s car drive off. "So how about we watch your surfing vids while we eat the pizza?"

As much as I liked Greg, and as much as we all enjoyed watching the vids again [especially with Steve’s animated commentary that kept making us all crack] this wasn’t the time or place to talk privately with Kyle or Steve. At one stage, Kyle said that the pizza could have done with some extra mozzarella. Paul and I knew exactly what he meant, but the joke was wasted on Greg and Steve. It was time to make a move, and to hell with the consequences.

"Have you ever surfed nude, Steve?"

"A few times."

"Then get the boardies off, man, and show us."

Steve hesitated at first, then dropped his shorts, followed by his Speedos. "You mean like this?" he grinned. As the smooth, tanned Adonis continued demonstrating and mimicking the manoeuvres showing on the tube, more eyes were trained on him than on the screen. Even Greg was mesmerized by the excellence of the dude’s bod. It had been tuned to perfection by years of serious surfing. Every muscle in his body was magnificently defined, especially his abs. His stomach was like a flat, brown wall made of six cobble stones, with a deep channel down the center. We all watched as his dick grew to its full six inches.

"Sorry about the horn, guys. It’s just that surfing makes me hard."

The little fucker wasn’t sorry at all. He was as proud as all hell of his fucking hardon and he couldn’t help hiding his pleasure at showing it off. He knew that there were more than a couple of mouths in the room that wanted to swallow that delicious piece of teen meat, as well as whatever juice was stored in his tight, smooth balls.

I was next to ditch my shorts, followed by Paul, then Kyle. Greg shrugged as though he didn’t wanna be the only dude with clothes on, and eventually got naked. For the rest of the vid, the room was full of teenage boners. The most awesome sight, though, was Steve as he danced and squatted like he was riding a board through a tube. The more his dick bounced around, the more he laughed. It was obvious to all of us that he was enjoying being the star attraction. He knew that he was making us all incredibly hot. Well, I wasn’t too sure if he was making Greg hot because Greg was straight, but he wasn’t making any attempt to hide his hard cock -- and he was laughing and enjoying Steve’s erotic performance as much as the rest of us were.

At the same time, Greg’s presence was kind of intimidating. None of us was sure about what to do next. One thing was certain, though, there was no way I could do or say anything that might jeopardize our secret.

At about 10:30, I announced that we’d better call it a night. The semis were on tomorrow and it was important to try and make the finals. I got back into my shorts.

"I’ll see Greg home and take the dog for a quick walk. See you guys when I get back."

On the way to Greg’s apartment, which was only five minutes away, I waited until Kyle had chosen an interesting tree to sniff, let go of the leash, then questioned Greg about stuff that had been making me curious most of the night.

"Pretty rad surfing, huh?"

"Yeah, that Steve guy is a hoot. And I really like Kyle."

"You were hard like the rest of us."

"You noticed?" he laughed. "Well, it wasn’t because of Steve."

"Oh?"

"No, it was because I was thinking about you blowing me. Have you got time?"

"Dumb question, man."

Greg and I went to the grass clearing at the back of the apartment building, told the dog to go investigate whatever took his fancy, then got down to business. As I knelt before my bronzed Eurasian hero and pulled his shorts down, he asked me to stop.

"Is my cock as good as Steve’s?"

I studied his big, thick monster pointed straight at my face for a few seconds. The sight of its smooth, sculptured head and waiting piss hole was such a fucking turn-on. "It’s not the cock, man. It’s the dude who’s glued to it that matters." And with that, I sent my tight lips down its solid shaft and felt its swollen knob ram the back of my throat. The only sounds then were his groaning and my gagging.

As I let him fuck my face, I was thinking about his hands gripping my head and how he must have been feeling as he thrust his throbber backward and forward. I knew the feeling well, and it was way cool to know that my lips and tongue were sending him into orbit. Experience had taught me that blowing a guy meant focusing totally on him and his pleasure. That’s all that mattered during those exquisite moments in time.

Pretty soon, Greg’s torrent of boy juice jetted into my mouth and down my throat. My face was pressed hard against his small patch of pubes as he groaned and moaned with every explosion of his delicious, thick milk. His rock-hard throbber rammed home every last drop of his precious cargo until he sighed the sigh of a well-satisfied dude.

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