Everything was pretty much back to normal the next day at school, except for the heatwave. It was so damn hot that the students were allowed to remove their ties… and the swim team had organized training during recesses, mainly just to cool off. But I was pleased to see that Wingnut had accepted the fact that I'd booked him for detention, and understood the reason, even though he didn't like it.
South Africa
Part 43
The heatwave continued into the next day. Just after sun-up, it was already 28 C [90 F]. On the way home after swim prac in the afternoon, I asked the guys to wait for me at my house while I changed outa my school uniform, and into my Speedos and a pair of boardies. I grabbed a towel, and met them at the front gate. "Let's go!"
We almost ran the rest of the way to Kyle's house 'cause we were so damn amped to get into the water. Apart from that, I was in a hurry for them to also get changed… I felt totally outa place bare-chested, and in boardies, while my two buds were still wearing their uniforms. We must've looked like a pretty weird trio! From Kyle's house, we actually did run all the way to the beach, where I was surprised to see most of the other guys there wearing wetties… they must've been boiling in those damn things!
The surf was good enough for me to body surf, so I swam out about half way to the backline where the peaks were just right for me, while Kyle and Wingnut paddled their boards all the way out.
Apart from the fun of riding the waves all the way to the shore break [and I rode just about every one I tried for] the water was the only place to be on that hot, humid afternoon. The surf was wicked cool and refreshing, and beat the pants off any fucking aircon.
Steve was there, too, and, at one stage, he paddled his stick over to me to say hi.
"You and Kyle on speaking terms, yet?"
"Not yet."
"Maybe you'd better talk to him soon. We're going away on a school swim tour for a week… and he's gonna be wondering about what you and Steph might getting up to."
"Hey, Steph and I aren't an item… it was all a mistake."
"Kyle doesn't know that. Or, at least, he hasn't heard it from you."
"He's just taken off on a wave. I don't think he wants to talk to me."
Just then, Wingnut paddled over. "You and Kyle friends again yet?" he asked Steve.
Steve ignored Wingnut's remark, and continued to focus his attention on me. "So when are you guys leaving on the tour?"
"Next Tuesday arvie."
"Hey, I've gotta tell ya… you're a way cool body surfer, Mark. I've been watching you."
"Yeah!" Wingnut agreed. "I'm totally impressed!"
It was almost dark by the time we quit the surf, and walked home -- minus Steve. I figured that, if he was gonna talk to Kyle, he'd wanna talk in private. Meantime, I hadn't had such a wicked time in ages, and I was raving about the rad fun I'd had in the surf.
"I should do this more often. It rocks!"
"Maybe you spend too much time skipping in your room, or working out in the gym. Hey, sometimes I think you forget that you live near a beach!"
"You're right, Kyle… sometimes I do."
"And next time, you don't need to wear Speedos under your boardies… nobody does."
"Well, I don't know why Wingnut bothers," I cracked, "'cause his damn pubes and ass crack show, anyway."
"I'm serious. Nobody wears anything under their boardies. They're supposed to be loose… and the girls dig it."
"Yeah, right. I can just see Carol's face if I start parading my pubes and ass around the beach."
"She'd be chuffed that you belong to her."
What was he saying? That the sight of my pubes and ass crack would turn on the whole fucking beach? I guessed he was… Kyle had an obvious fascination with my bod that he believed was shared by everyone else. There was only one response that I could give him. "I belong to me."
"Yeah… well, you know what I mean."
Did I? Hey, I wasn't blind. I'd noticed people gawking at me… both guys and chicks. But what Kyle didn't understand was that the stares didn't stop at my skin. It was like people were seeing beyond my skin, and right inside of me. It was like some kinda personal invasion of my privacy, and I didn't like it. When it came to people ogling me, there were only two who didn't faze me, Carol and Kyle. But even Kyle's attention was something I'd only recently learned to accept as non-invasive.
There was another thing that he didn't understand about me. Beaches meant people. And people meant stares, especially since I had a bod that I'd worked hard to perfect. It drew a lotta attention… too much attention for my comfort. Sure, I was proud of it, but putting it on public display was something else.
Yeah, I guessed I was paranoid. Maybe even schizophrenic. The other guys, especially Wingnut and Steve, loved the attention they got from other people. They even went outa their way to attract it. Kyle wasn't quite so blatant, but even he had no qualms about being gawked at. And, I had to admit, he was worth a helluva lot more than just the odd glance.
On Friday, Kyle, Steph, Carol and I went clubbing to Corners. Kyle and I didn't end up getting too trashed, but we were giggling a helluva lot on the way home.
"What the fuck are you guys laughing at?" Carol demanded.
"You had to be there."
"We are here!"
Why Carol's remark seemed so damn funny, neither Kyle nor I were quite sure, but it cracked us up big time, and we fell about like a couple of stilt-walkers who'd lost their balance.
After we'd seen the girls home, I asked Kyle if he wanted to sleep over. "Mom's out on an all-nighter with the boyfriend."
"Cool."
I was undressed, and naked as the day I was born, as I collapsed on my back on the bed. It was a regular habit of mine to sleep on my back. I must've passed out straight away, 'cause the next thing I knew, daylight was streaming through the window, and Kyle was fast asleep next to me, with his head buried in my armpit, and his hand resting on my chest. I paused a moment to reflect on how cute he looked… how innocent and sweet. Then I lifted his arm, and went to the bathroom to get rid of my piss boner.
As I showered, and jacked my throbber, I thought about Kyle, and how he'd been cuddled up to me. I didn't need to be a fucking rocket scientist to know that he loved me, big time. He made no secret of the fact that I was an essential part of his life. But I figured it was more than just wanting to be with me… he needed to be with me. There was a certain passion about Kyle, a certain intensity, that I'd never experience before, not even with Carol.
By the time I was about to shoot my load, I couldn't help visualizing Kyle's lips around my boner. Damn! That would be just sooo fucking cool! On occasions, he'd even gone so far as to suggest it. But what then? That was the problem. What then? Would it totally fuck our relationship? Probably. It was a risk that I couldn't, or wasn't prepared, to take.
"Wakey, wakey, bro… coffee time." I placed the two, steaming mugs on the bedside table, then remained standing as I watched my spiky-haired bud slowly, and involuntarily, come to life.
"Jeez! What time is it?" he moaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
"Saturday morning. Rise and shine, bro. I made the coffee just how you like it."
He rested on one elbow, took a sip, then noticed what I was wearing. "Hardly ever see you in briefs."
"I enjoy wearing briefs now and then."
"They look pretty hot."
"Trust you to notice." My briefs were black, with narrow sides, and a pouch to accommodate my jewels. "You sleep OK?"
"You were in the land of nod straight away last night… I kinda stayed awake for about half an hour."
"Doing what?"
"Nothing much… just looking."
"At what?"
"You."
"For half a fucking hour? What's there to look at? On second thoughts, don't answer that."
"You had a real skin splitter."
"So you gawked at it for half an hour? Jesus!"
Kyle dragged himself up into a sitting position, then sipped more coffee. "I don't understand you, sometimes, Mark. It's like you're unaware of your own bod. I was looking at your muscle definition… it's totally awesome even when you're asleep… especially your arm muscles and your pecs."
"You had your face in my armpit when I woke up."
"Yeah… that's the last thing I remember before I dozed off. I was smelling you."
"Smelling me?" I cracked up totally. "You really are way off the fucking planet, Kyle."
"Maybe," he shrugged. "But I like the way you smell. Coffee's good, too. Thanks."
I had a shitload of chores to do around the house, so I had to kick Kyle's butt to get him moving outa there. But all day, as I did the washing, ironing and cleaning, I couldn't help wondering what the fuck Kyle had been gawking at for an entire half hour! OK, so he said he'd checked out my boner, and muscle definition, but that would've taken like a few minutes. He had to be obsessed. That was the only explanation. And how did I feel about that? I wasn't completely sure, except that I was glad that he liked me. He was the only guy I felt at ease with... well, most of the time. And certainly the only guy I'd sleep naked with. I couldn't really explain that, either, other than to put it down to some kinda weird trust between us.
As I slid a shirt over the ironing board, then ran the Black & Decker over the wrinkles, I thought about those early times when our fledgling friendship was still being severely tested. He'd often told me that I was scared of being too close… that I was making it impossible for him to break down my barriers… that he wanted to help me with my probs, and to be my friend. "Stop fucking quizzing me," I remembered having said. "They're my probs, and I'll take care of them." There were times when, in a rage, I'd even told him to fuck off outa my life. But he didn't. He hung around, copped my abuse, and persisted. But why?
"Why?" I said aloud to myself as I hung the ironed shirt on the doorknob, and proceeded to iron the next. "'Cause he knew, even months ago, that there would be times like last night when we would sleep naked together… and times when we'd jack each other off. He knew that he'd eventually wear me down, and get close to me. But how the fuck did he know that? How the fuck did he know more about me than I knew about myself?"
That night, we all went out for pizza. Steve was there with another one of his spunky chicks… another conquest. He came over to our table to say hi, but he avoided Kyle's eyes, so it was obvious that those two still hadn't reconciled their differences. At the same time, Kyle was giving Steve the eye, which made me wonder about Kyle's attitude to Steve. I'd known from the beginning that Kyle idolized Steve, which explained why Kyle had been hurt so badly when he found out about his best bud's fling with Steph. But it didn’t explain Kyle's fascination for me. I wasn't a surfer. Hell, I had short, shaved hair, was a boxer, and, to a large extent, was a recluse with a bad attitude. Steve and I couldn't have been more opposite if we'd tried to be. He was the blonde-haired bimbo who had chicks hanging off him like he was some movie star, and I was Mr Impossible. Go figure.
Anyway, after the pizza, Carol and I went clubbing, but Kyle elected to go to Steph's house 'cause he wanted to save his money for the swim tour.Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved. mrbstories
