Anything? He must've been a fucking Cocker Spaniel or something in his last life. "I tried to phone Carol, but she's out with some school friends. I need you to sort out this cut for me. And don't worry… I've already showered." Not that my showering would've made the slightest difference to Kyle. He would've happily obliged if I'd been covered in mud. And if he'd had a tail, it would've been wagging like crazy.
I passed him a tube of antiseptic cream, then pulled down my shorts and white boxer briefs. It felt kinda weird, though, to be facing away from him while he studied my ass.
"Whoa! You've got a nice red stripe across your butt. The skin's lifted. Not that big, but it looks nasty."
I stood there while he took forever to clean the wound, then smear some antiseptic on it. "You gonna be there all night?"
"I can see your hangers between your legs. They're kinda pear shaped. Your hangers, I mean."
"It's not my balls that are worrying me, Kyle."
"Just noticing. Does Carol normally do this for you?"
"She has a few times."
"What do you tell her?"
"She knows better than to ask… not like a certain friend of mine."
"Ever ask your mom?"
"Don't be stupid."
"Where's shitforbrains now?"
"He and mom have gone out to visit some friends of his."
"Didn't think he had any."
At last he'd finished dressing the cut, so I pulled up my boxers. "It'll be OK by tomorrow." Then he helped me clear the dishes, and wash them in the kitchen.
"When I saw the hose, I thought he was gonna whip your back."
"Hell no! He knows that I'm on the swim team, so he won't hit me there. Anyway, he normally only hits me once. Sometimes he hits me with his fist, other times with the hose."
"What are you gonna do about him?"
"Nothing. Another year and I'll go into digs somewhere [leave home]. Just need to find a job so that I can afford it."
"What about school? Thought you might stay another year for post [matriculation]."
"Might still do that. Just need to work off school fees and shit like that."
"What if I chatted to my folks about you staying with us?"
"Couldn't do that, Kyle. You don't know me, and once you did, you'd wish me the fuck outa there. Besides, you'd start working on my tits with all your fucking questions." There was one other prob, of course... no spare bedroom, but I decided not to mention that.
I didn't see Kyle early next morning at school 'cause I had to attend a prefect's meeting. Damn, those things bored the fucking pants off me! Later, I saw Wingnut. He looked as though he'd been dragged through a hedge. Probably slept in, ran his fingers through his hair, and high-tailed it to school.
At break, I met up with Kyle who told me that he'd raved about my cooking to his mom. "Oh, my kind of man," she sighed. My dad just winked at me, and laughed."
"I dunno why you guys make such a big fucking deal about me."
"Do you just stand there while shitforbrains lays into you?"
"Fucking question time again, I see. The first time he hit me, I totally lost my rag, and fisted him. Then I got the worst beating I'd ever had from anyone. Even my dad never beat me that bad… from what I can remember."
"Do you actually bend over so that he can beat you?"
"Not a fuck. But I don't hit back anymore. If he wants to hit me, I just stand there and glare at him, and wish the pain away until he's gone. Drives him crazy."
"Ever hear from your dad?"
"He tried phoning me about two years ago. I told him not to contact me ever again. He blew his chances. So I don't have a dad."
Kyle must've noticed the tears welling in my eyes, so he changed the topic. "I dunno what you put in that macaroni and cheese, but I blasted myself outa bed this morning. I'm gonna have to use air freshener to get back in there."
I totally cracked up… and it was a good thing that Kyle had rescued the convo by being funny. "Fuck I love to see you laugh," he grinned.
Well, I had to admit that Kyle's persistent questioning and determination to chip away at my armor was working. At swim prac, I was feeling a stack better, which had to be the result of having opened up to my bud. I'd never done that kinda thing before… not even with Carol. And certainly never with my mom. Until I'd met that spiky-haired dude with the cheeky grin, I'd kept absolutely everything bottled up inside. Hey, I didn't know any better. I figured that was normal.
That afternoon at the pool, we were carrying on like a couple of loonies, dissing each other and laughing. Then he got kinda serious and asked me what was wrong.
"You look kinda sick."
"Talk shit. What do you mean?"
"You've got this huge lump in your Speedos… looks like a boil's growing in there."
"Har-de-fucking-har. Well, you don’t have the same problem. Wanna borrow a pair of my socks?"
"You need a haircut."
"Just had a haircut."
"Above your Speedos… the curls are showing."
"Those are man curls. It's like the crazy hair on your head, bro … 'cept it grows wild around my cock."
"Fuck off, and swim, Kyle," I laughed.
That was another thing that had been totally rare until Kyle bounced into my life like something out of a box on a spring. Laughing. It was a whole new experience, and one that felt totally fucking cool. Next morning, at swim prac, I was inspired to play a trick on my bud, so I had a bit of a chat with Ross while Kyle was swimming. When Kyle had reached the end of his last lap, we both bent down as if we were gonna speak to him about something. The look on his face was totally priceless as Ross and I grabbed the sides of Kyle's Speedos, and hauled him outa the pool, giving him a wedgy he'd never forget.
"Fucking hell, guys!" he complained as he placed both hands over his crotch. "My nads feel like they're up where a person normally wears a bow tie. Fucking hell! I'm in pain."
I wasn't sure if he expected Ross and me to be sympathetic, but we were both doubled up, laughing our damn tits off. Then one of the team guys yelled in a falsetto voice, "Hey, Kyle! They're looking for a soprano in the school production!" That did it for me and Ross… we cracked up even more.
In the showers, Kyle was impressing upon us all that he really did have to dig his Speedos outa his ass crack. "That must be one of the most awesome wedgies of all time!" Then he walked over to Ross, and lifted his dick. "Hey, Ross, my nads need massaging."
"Fuck off, Kyle, before I use them for a punching bag."
"Fuck off, Kyle," I laughed.
For one dangerous second, Kyle stood in front of Jumbo, but soon got the message that the black giant would've probably bitten the damn things off. But it was a good joke, and in the right spirit, and everybody was enjoying Kyle's humor.
"Watch your backs, guys," he shouted from the shower stall in a final attempt to regain his honor, then turned on the taps.
Classes that day were pretty cool. The geography test was a breeze for Kyle, as I found out later. Being a surfer, he was into all that high and low pressure shit, and synoptic weather charts.
During afternoon swim prac, Kyle was practicing his turns, and getting a lot better since Ross had told him that he'd been turning too deeply, which was slowing him down.
Meantime, I was pretty happy with my performance, and it was obvious to me that Kyle was impressed big time. Actually, he seemed to be impressed with everything about me. Even when I wasn't looking at him, I was conscious of his hazel eyes soaking up every square inch of my bod. It used to bother me, but lately I'd learned to cope with it. Even enjoy it.
Once again, we need to see this next section from Kyle's point of view in order to get a fuller appreciation of the story. Mr B.
I was sitting on the bench, looking at Mark who'd just gotten outa the pool, dripping wet. I watched him sit on the bench, then lean against the wall. I couldn't help thinking that it should've been almost illegal for a guy to be so good looking, and, at the same time, to have the killer bod that he had. There wasn't one ounce of fat on him, and, with every little move he made, a muscle or two would flinch. Each gesture, each movement, no matter how casual or innocent, was somehow provocative, not to mention horny as hell.
He had this wet mop of hair hanging over his forehead while he lifted a towel to dry the water off his face. I watched his forearms ripple, and his biceps bulge, and LATS THAT WENT FOREVER! The water was running in a tiny river from his belly button down a thin line of black hair to his Speedos. He would normally shave that hair before a comp, even though there was hardly any there. He had his dick tucked down so that it formed a neat little package of shiny lycra.
My trance broke when he must've realized that I was watching him. He looked across at me, and gave me a sorta wave, and smiled. When he stood up to come over and join me, his thigh and leg muscles popped. He and Wingnut had similar bods -- both in perfect proportion without being muscularly over the top, if that makes any sense. The only diff was that Wingnut still had his thin layer of puppy fat, even though he had good definition. He just looked a little softer than Mark.
And now back to Mark! Mr B.
"Looks like you're in another world."
"My mind's a million miles away. Not even sure what I'm thinking."
I had a pretty good idea, but I wasn't gonna comment. "You look beat."
"Oh, that's 'cause I hammered myself in the pool after Ross told me about my turns."
"Yeah. It's cool that he recognized what it was. Fuck, I couldn't see it, but after he mentioned it to me, I could see it right away."
Here we go again! Kyle's point of view in the showers. Mr B.
When we went to the showers, I carried on checking out Mark, and I was trying my best not to get a full hardon. But I had a semi that was dying for a pair of lips! Jeez!
I was watching the water run down from his abs to his pubes, then form a little waterfall at the end of his dick. Even when his meat was soft, it was still thick, and hung in a lazy arc over his nads. His nads were bigger than mine, and hung quite low in two perfect balls. 'Cept for his pubes, his dick and nads were as smooth as a baby's butt. His ass crack? Yep, that was smooth as well. I knew 'cause I'd had a good gawk the other night. There was still a red stripe where he was hit, but it was looking better.
I figured Mark was trying his best to ignore me while he was showering, 'cause he knew damn well that I was checking him out. He had strong, well-developed calf muscles as well, which he'd told me were the result of when he was little… he used to do BMX racing. Fucking hell! Even his feet oozed sex!"
And now back to Mark. Mr B.
"What are you doing tonight?" Hawkeye asked without taking his beady eyes off my bod.
"Not sure. Carol was talking about going out to a movie or something. Then I'm gonna sleep over at her house."
"What movie?" It wasn't difficult to detect a note of disappointment in Kyle's voice. In fact, I imagined the word 'fuck' silently reverberating around his brain big time. It was obviously a misake to have mentioned sleeping over at Carol's.
"Not sure. Just so long as it's not one of those fucking soppy things. Why don't you and Steph come along?"
"If I know Steph and Carol, that's probably the arrangement, anyway."
"Don't let Steph organize your life, bro. If you wanna do something else, then tell her."
"And you and Carol?"
"We have this agreement… I organize the clubs, and she organizes the movies, and we pay for ourselves... unless I feel stupid and generous. But it would be cool if you could come with… check with Steph. Or just tell her. Unless she tells you first," I laughed.
Anyway, I meant what I'd said… that having Kyle around would make the evening more fun, but I couldn't verbalize it quite that way, else I would've given the fucker a big head. And he had a big enough one already.
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