South Africa
Part 77

I didn't resist as Kyle unbuttoned the top of my chinos, then pushed my briefs down to get to my boner.

"That's a monster beef you've got there, buddy."

"Oh, fuck, Kyle! You're driving me crazy here. Stop!"

I jumped up, then headed across the kitchen to the fridge, where I got a glass of cold water. After I'd drunk the water, I placed my hands on the fridge door, leaned against it, and lowered my head. What the fuck was I gonna do about Kyle? What was I gonna do about me? What the hell was my dick doing reacting to him like that? I was straight. S-T-R-A-I-G-H-T. So what the fuck was going on?

Within a few seconds, Kyle was behind me with his hands on my groin. Those lines that went from my hips to my crotch fascinated him, probably because, like everything else about my bod, they were well defined.

"Just chill, Kyle... just for now."

"What's up?"

"I'm not sure. It's you... the way you are with me, and what you're fucking doing to me."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm terrified of where we're going with this. It feels right, then everything in my head tells me it's not. Then, when you're with me, it feels right again."

Kyle wrapped his arms around me, and rested the side of his face on my shoulder blade. His warmth surrounded me like an invisible blanket. "Why shouldn't it feel right? We're buds, right?"

I took his hands in mine, and gave them a gentle squeeze. I wanted him to know that I loved him -- loved him more than I was able to express. But, at the same time, I was confused. "We are buds, Kyle. I don't know why, but we are."

"I love you, Mark. Have I ever told you that you've got a beautiful bod?"

"A hundred times already. And I love you for saying that. You're good for my ego. And I need a joint."

We sat outside in the garden while I smoked the reefer. It was about the only thing my brain could to escape to... to stop it from behaving like a disturbed hornet's nest. The moonlight was also relaxing, casting soft shadows in all the right places. And Kyle? Dammit, he looked fucking... whatever. Nice.

"I dig your hair, too. Looks much better now that it's normal length. And I love the way you spike it up before you go to work in the mornings. It suits you... makes you look even more beautiful."

"Beautiful? What kinda word is that?"

"One that springs to mind."

"Guys aren't beautiful, Kyle."

"Since when?"

"You're totally crazy. You know that? Totally fucking crazy!"

"It's your fault, but I'm not complaining. Anyway, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I'm the beholder."

"More like you're the gawker."

"Beauty is in the eye of the gawker, then," he giggled. "Behold, gawk, whatever. Anyway, there's no denying it... you're a head-turner. And I'm glad it's my head. I never thought I could love another guy as much as I love Paul. My love for Paul hasn't diminished... it's just that I love you, too."

"And Steph?"

"Yep. I love Steph, too... a stack. But you're different. I think it's 'cause we've been through so much together... y'know, like a bonding thing. I feel so damn close to you."

"That's what worries me. Well, it does and it doesn't. I mean, it's like what they say about women; you can't live with 'em, and you can't live without 'em."

"But I'm a guy."

"Not just any guy, Kyle. Not just any guy. No way. They threw away the fucking mould when they made you."

"It's such a beaut evening... we should sleep outside."

"Yeah, right. We'll freeze our butts off before morning."

"Only you... 'cause you'll be naked."

I was the first one into bed, and I was wearing my black briefs. I watched my bud get undressed, then slide in alongside me so that we were facing each other. It was the ol' gazing into each other's eyes trick again. There was nothing girly about Kyle's face. Cute, yes. But not feminine in any way. He was all guy, and he could use his fists with the best of them. He'd never backed away from a fight, not even if he thought he might lose.

And yet there was something soft and sweet in his hazel eyes. There was a little boy in there. A little boy who needed cuddling and loving. Mind you, there was also an animal in there. An animal in boy's clothing.

"Wanna play follow the leader?" he grinned.

"If I say yes, I can only guess what you've got in mind."

"I just need to touch you, Mark. Please?"

Please? He was pleading with me? "What am I gonna do with you, Kyle?"

Well, that was a 'yes' as far as he was concerned, so he took hold of my briefs and slid them down my legs. Then he began to stroke my thick boner, which was already wet with pre-cum -- a telltale fact that I couldn't hide. Hide? What the fuck? Trying to hide anything from Kyle was like walking down the main street naked. Anyway, I surrendered to his will, closed my eyes, and allowed him to electrify my body to the point where I didn't care any more. I was in Kyle heaven. And I could feel my cock jerking like crazy as he continued to stroke it.

He cupped my balls in his hand as if to measure what was about to explode. It was then that I let out a stifled scream, and felt the ultra-sensitive head of my boner rubbing against the palm of his hand as a truckload of juice jetted outa my pulsating knob. He moved closer to me as my body continued to convulse, and the last of my cum filled his hand. Then my muscles relaxed as I let out a long sigh of satisfaction.

"Go wash your hands, Kyle."

So what was I gonna do now? I asked myself as Kyle disappeared through the door. Jack him off? I still had a million conflicting thoughts buzzing around in my head. How many guys like Kyle and me were there in the world? It seemed like only two. We weren't gay. Well, I wasn't. And I didn't think Kyle was... well, not stereotypically.

He was taking longer than I'd expected, so I made my way to the bathroom to check on him. He had his back to me, but I could see what he was doing. Jesus. He was washing his hands alright... but with his tongue.

I stepped back from the doorway. God almighty! How could he do that? Then my mind flashed back to the time he'd blown me and swallowed my juice. Did he love me that much? Enough to... yeah. He did. After a few moments, I took another peek. He was jacking himself.

By the time he'd returned to my room, I was back in bed. "What took so long?"

"I dunno," he lied as he got into bed beside me, and draped an arm over me. "Was I that long?"

No way was I gonna tell him what I saw, and, to be honest, I was too damn tired to bother to consider it. Kyle was a one-off. The craziest dude on the fucking planet. And that's the way it was. Accept it, or reject it. It was that simple. And I'd chosen, albeit with some trepidation, to accept it.

I woke Kyle at 5am. He looked like something out of a horror movie. But I found out later that he'd gone home, showered, and worked all day. "We were so damn busy, the day just flew by!"

He also told me that he'd had an email from Steve. "He and his folks are staying at the Copacabana, Brazil. Remember that song from Peter Allen? Or was it Barry Manilow? Anyway, he's raving it up. He's made friends with a couple of American dudes and they're clubbing every night. He says he's gotta stock up on condoms every second night. Can you believe that? He says the girl from Ipanema is a tourist. He says he's hanging with some American chicks, and he's fucking a different one every night. Yeah, right."

Typical Steve. Bonk everything in sight. The main diff between Steve and me was that he needed to have his ego massaged every five seconds, and he didn't care who did it. I wanted more than that. I wanted friendship... genuine friendship... the kind that only a guy Kyle could provide. And there was only one of him.

It was on Tuesday that we all went to see a 'scary' movie... Wingnut, Candy, Carol, Steph, Kyle, and me. It was a total hoot. Probably the funniest movie I'd ever seen. Way over the top. An older couple left the theater halfway through the movie when a guy was having sex [in the movie] and filled the room with cum. Totally outa-fucking-sight! And the theater was packed solid.

Afterwards, we all went for pizza, and were still hosing ourselves stupid talking about the movie. Well, Kyle and Wingnut were. Every now and then, I'd catch Kyle's attention, shake my head and roll my eyes. And he'd mouth, "What the fuck?" At that stage, he was unaware of what Carol had been telling me.

I wasn't entirely certain, but it seemed to me that Kyle had orchestrated everything so that he and I were the last ones to arrive home.

"So what was all the eye-rolling about?"

"Kyle... you fucking animal."

"Huh?"

"Carol's been burning my ear about you and Steph being on fire."

"So Carol wants me, huh?"

"Yeah, right. Carol says Steph was on the phone to her, describing every fucking sensation you gave her. Were you on Viagra or something?"

"Fuck off! But, hey, that's cool. Steph was boasting about me?"

"Says you were an animal. And I know what you did this summer."

"Har-de-har. So what did I do besides make love to Steph?"

"You ate her out! And you said you didn't like seafood!"

I couldn't resist jumping up and down, and hugging my bud. It was just so damn wonderful to know that he was straight. Well, kinda straight. It made me feel better about myself. I didn't wanna be attracted to a gay guy. If I was gonna be attracted to a guy, I wanted him to be... What the fuck was I talking about? Kyle wasn't like anybody else I'd ever met. "I can't believe you ate her out! And she says it's like you knew exactly what to do to drive her wild."

But, despite my exuberance, Kyle remained calm. "Hey, I'm not fussy what I eat. Want me to show you?"

"Not fucking likely... go wash your mouth out first."

"Then can I?"

"See what I mean? I can't take you anywhere... except a second time to apologize for the first time."

Well, he'd obviously decided to back off rather than take a chance on pissing me off. But that was the thing with Kyle and me. We'd reach a point where something might happen, then we'd get paranoid about this or that. He'd worry about my reaction, and I'd worry about... Yeah, I'd also worry about my reaction. His reactions were totally predictable. Mine weren't. He was streets ahead of me in terms of being "close", as he put it. He had the capacity to do things on impulse, which was totally cool, but which I couldn't respond to equally. I felt inadequate. How weird was that? Me? The epitome of physical perfection, and I was inadequate? I was able to deal with 99.9% of situations, with one, single exception. Yep, you guessed it. That spiky-haired fucker with the big, cheesy grin.

As sure as night followed day, I loved the guy. But I didn't know how to love him.

"What the fuck am I gonna do with you, Kyle?"

"Be my friend forever?"

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 Mark Part 78