It was just after the team had returned from the school swim tour that Kyle went missing for a week or so. Something had to be seriously wrong 'cause he'd done really well in his races to begin with, then totally lost it toward the end of the meet. The coach got so mad, he threatened to pull Kyle off the team for letting the guys down. According to Ross, Kyle had caught some bug during the meet and was taking a week off to recuperate.
Meantime, I was getting along OK with the guys, and we often went clubbing together. Well, I tended to drift away and do my own thing at the club. I still preferred my own company. It was easier to avoid probing questions about my personal life that way.
When Kyle did return, he was asked by Ross to rejoin the team. We had the winter champs coming up, and Kyle was one of our better swimmers. He never did say exactly what had ailed him, or why he fucked up towards the end of the last meet. It must've been pretty fucking major, though, 'cause he was normally a reliable competitor.
As the weather became cooler, we'd train at the local health club which had a heated, indoor pool, sauna and gym. It suited me fine 'cause I liked to work out. Later, if we had enough time, a few of us would go to the sauna where we'd sit on our towels on a wooden bench and sweat like fucking hell. Occasionally, I'd bust Kyle gawking at my bod. Oh, well, at least he had good taste. He never cracked a boner, though, so I guessed it must have been just a guy thing. Not that it was easy to tell if Kyle got hard. His dick was about six inches long even when it was soft. It was cut, smooth and had a big head. The cheeky fucker would sit with his legs wide apart so that everybody could get a good look at it. He was pretty proud of that damn thing, and I figured it would've seen it's fair share of warm and wet places.
But the smartass who thought he had the best damn cock in the whole fucking school was Ross, and he didn't mind flashing the thing around. We were in the showers after swim prac one afternoon when Ross slapped his semi on Kyle's shoulder.
"You can go surfing, Kyle," he laughed. "I'm gonna find some horny bitch whose pussy is waiting for some REAL boy meat."
"Take that thing away before I bite it."
"Oh, jeez! Do you promise?"
Both guys cracked up, then continued showering. There was nothing gay about what had happened, but I couldn't help wondering what it would've looked like to see Ross's throbber sliding down Kyle's throat. I'd already jacked off with a few guys in my time, and I had to admit that it was a total fucking turn-on to see other dudes fisting their throbbers. But to see a guy blowing another guy? Especially a 10 like Ross? Yeah, that'd be fucking outasight. Besides, Kyle's lips were bigger and fuller than usual, as though they'd been designed for sucking. Anyway, I had to stop fantasizing about that kinda stuff 'cause my dick was getting hard, and I didn't want the guys to think that I'd been turned on.
A few days later, I'd gone clubbing with a few dudes. We were kinda out of it from booze and shit, and on our way home, when a bunch of guys started to give us a hard time. I guessed they were looking for trouble, and I'd probably said something to piss them off. There were too many of them to handle, so I bolted for the railway station. That was the last thing I remembered before waking up in hospital. Fuck, I was sore all over. My face ached like hell. The doc said I'd most likely gotten a boot to the head.
It was one way to get attention, though, if not the smartest. Just about every fucking chick in town must've come to visit me. A lot of the guys rocked up, too, but it wasn't until the weekend that Kyle arrived.
"Jeez, man, those guys must've given you a real fucking hiding! You're all..."
"Spare me the fucking details, Kyle. I've heard it like a million times already. Anyway, nothing's broken, but they tell me that my lip's thicker than yours." I managed a feeble chuckle, but it hurt my ribs to laugh.
When it came time for visitors to leave, Kyle asked the nurse if he could hang around for a while.
"Hey, dude, I'm not fucking dying, for fuck's sake. I'll be outa here in a day or two. Why did you wanna stay?"
"I dunno. Nothing else to do."
I didn't believe him, but I didn't comment either. Yeah, he did like me, and he was making it plain through his body language that he wanted to be my friend -- not just a regular bud, but a close friend. I had a problem with that idea, though. I knew enough about myself to understand that I wasn't the type to get too close to people. That would leave me vulnerable to questions, questions and more questions. My business was my fucking business, and nobody else's.
I stayed home for a couple of days before going back to school. I was too fucking ugly, and I didn't wanna parade my pulverized bod around in Speedos looking like something the damn cat had dragged in on a slow day. So it was Tuesday before I plucked up the nerve to return.
My swim times were ratshit, and it was gonna take a while before I got back to normal. My body was still covered in black and blue patches from the bruising, and my face still looked pretty messed up. Despite that, though, the guys were glad to see me back -- especially Kyle -- he just couldn't help making a big fuss. It was easy to understand why the guy was so damn popular. He had an irresistible quality about him -- spiky hair, cheeky grin, energy to burn, whatever. He just kinda grew on you like a fucking wart.
Apart from the swimming, most of my time over the next week or so was taken up by studying for exams, then sitting for the exams themselves. You had to be a fucking Einstein to crack the math paper, and all the guys were complaining about it. It was after the math exam that I spotted Kyle about to leave school for the day.
"Hey, bud, what's up?"
"You look lower than shark shit."
"Just feeling a bit down. Dunno why, exactly."
"Got some time?"
"Yeah, why? What's up?"
"I wanna show you what I do when things are getting me down." I led Kyle through to the gym. "You got any togs here?"
I threw a pair of boxing shorts at him. "Put these on." Then he followed me through the gym to the small training room where there were a couple of punching bags hanging from hooks. "Check this out." I began to hit the bag with all the force I could muster.
"Fucking hell! You could've nailed me fucking big time when you had the chance, man. I didn't realize your arms and shoulder muscles were like so fucking huge!"
"Shuddup and hit the bag."
I watched Kyle whack the thing for all he was worth, and I could tell that he was enjoying it big time, so much so that we spent about two hours hitting the bag, doing pushups and situps, then punching the bag again. I'd hold it for him, and he'd hold it for me. By the time we'd done working out, we were both dripping with sweat, and our shorts were clinging to our crotches and butts. "Let's hit the showers."
"Feeling better now?" I asked as the warm water cascaded down my body.
"Fucking hell, and how! Thanks, Mark, I needed that."
"Yeah, I could see. So what's the prob?"
"I dunno. I guess it's the frustration of not being able to surf because of all the fucking studying and exams. I've been grounded."
"Yep, I know the feeling."
"Anyway, I've gotta tell ya, I feel so fucking great after that workout," he beamed.
Well, I'd kinda gotten used to the fact that Kyle liked to check out my bod in the showers or sauna, so it didn't bother me. Not that he knew that I was aware of his ogling me. He was pretty discreet about it, but hell, it was a sixth sense thingy. I just knew it. In any case, it was cool to be admired, especially by a guy who was pretty hot looking himself. And it wasn't like he was some limp-wristed pansy. No way! He was a pretty tough customer.
But what would he think of me if he knew how I'd fantasized about his blowing me? I figured he'd pack his things and vanish into thin air. Kyle was a difficult guy to analyze, though. Sure, he was tough and macho, and his attitude was kinda aggro at times. But he had a softer side -- not that it was readily obvious. He kept it well hidden, but I could sense that it was there, lurking beneath the macho surface. It was a special quality that I'd catch a fleeting glimpse of every now and then -- like the time he asked the nurse if he could stay overtime at the hospital. There was something about the guy that sometimes made you feel like hugging him, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Anyway, I had to be careful about how I handled this dude. He was starting to get to me, and I had to maintain my defences. Nobody was gonna break down my wall. Nobody.
A few days later, I saw Kyle arriving at school. "Hey, fuckhead, how come you're at school this early? Come to screw Miss Bio?"
"Yeah, right." he laughed. "Hey, I'm not the only dude who thinks she's fucking hot. All the guys get wet just looking at her. Anyway, I've come to watch you fuck her. Is that OK?"
"Sure, no prob, dude. Anyway, I come here early twice a week to hit the bag around and workout. It's cool to keep fit. You can join me if you like."
"That'd be way cool, Mark. I really enjoyed it the other day. It was fucking awesome."
Up until now, I'd always preferred my own company when I worked out, but having Kyle with me was kinda neat. He enjoyed punching the bag as much as I did, and he was a really enthusiastic kinda dude who loved being physical. Besides that, he didn't bother me. He was the first person I'd met who wasn't full of crap or questions. Often, I'd be in a bad mood and I'd make no secret of it. He'd mention it, but he wouldn't interrogate me like my mom tried to, or my girlfriend tried to. He'd just work out with me and let it ride like it was none of his business, anyway. Which it wasn't. So I was getting to feel pretty comfortable with this guy 'cause he respected my privacy. Even if I snapped at him, he'd just shrug and be cool about it.
In the showers, afterwards, he'd gawk at me again without making his attention too obvious. I found myself jacking off at night thinking about it, and how he'd love to slide his thick, wet lips up and down my shaft, and swallow my hot, juicy load. Not that he ever gave me any indication that he wanted to. It was just a fantasy of mine, and what the fuck was wrong with having a fantasy? Besides, I'd heard that certain guys could give better head than chicks could -- so it wasn't really a gay fantasy. At least, it wasn't as far as I was concerned. I was 100% red-blooded straight, and there was no doubt about that!
One of my fav mental images when I was jacking off was the one where Ross slapped his cock over Kyle's shoulder that time in the showers after swim prac. Except, when I thought about it, I imagined it was me doing it, and Kyle saying, "Take that thing away before I bite it." But, in my dream, I didn't take it away, and Kyle took the whole of my rock-hard monster between his firm lips while his warm tongue rode my swollen knob. Whoa! I'd blow a fucking truckload whenever I thought about that happening. Totally fucking awesome!
Pretty soon, the team was seriously into practice for the Winter Interschools Champs which were coming up. Our winter break was also not far away, but Kyle and Steve were planning to hitch to the Billabong International Surfing Champs at Jeffreys Bay. Damn. I was gonna miss the cheeky fucker. I was getting kinda used to having that spiky-haired bundle of grinning energy around.
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