South Africa
Part 81

We'd gone into the den when Kyle took off his shirt and glared at me. "So, c'mon, then," he taunted. "C'mon, wussy boy."

"You're gonna get hurt."

"Wussy boy! Fuck! My friend's a wuss!"

I dove at the cheeky fucker, and we both went flying over the couch, then crashed to the floor on the other side of the room. Kyle had hit his back a helluva shot on the corner of the coffee table, and it seemed for a moment that we were gonna wreck the fucking joint.

Kyle tried to get his legs around me but I was too smart for that little trick. I got him in a headlock, and pulled his head back. A second later, my legs were wrapped around his ribs, and squeezing.

"Give up?"

"No way, wussy boy!"

"Give up?"

There was a pained expression on my bud's face, and his eyes were watering. "Yes! OK!"

"Say uncle."

"Fuck you!"

I squeezed a little harder.

"UNCLE.... cunt."

And a little harder.

"Oh, fuck, Mark! Stop! Uncle, uncle, uncle!"

I collapsed onto my back, laughing like crazy... then, suddenly, Kyle was laying on top of me. My shirt had been pulled up during the tussle, and I felt his warm skin against mine.

"Why can't it be like this forever, huh?" he grinned.

"'Cause we'd kill each other."

"Fuck, I love you."

"I wish I'd met you years ago, Kyle."

His hand was under my t, playing with my nipples. "Yeah... me too."

For some reason, Kyle's face, which was hovering just inches from mine, wasn't a guy's face... well, not a regular guy's face. But it wasn't a girl's face, either. There was only one way to describe it... it was Kyle's face. Unique. "Have you ever thought what would've happened if I hadn't ended up in hospital?" I asked as my hands wandered down his smooth back, then under the waistband of his jeans.

"You would've anyway -- or me. We were on such an aggro trip, one of us would've ended up in there." Kyle was smelling my skin... something he often did. Then, when his nose reached my stomach, he noticed something. "Hey!"

"What?"

"The thin line of hair from your navel to your pubes. It's gone! You shave your stomach?"

"Yeah... and my nipples... 'cause I get fucking little bushes there."

"Where?" he asked as he lifted my t over my head, then peered at my nipples. "I've never noticed hair around your nipples before. I've got a few, but you can hardly notice them." Then Kyle returned his attention to my stomach. "Looks better without hair. Fuck, you've got awesome skin."

"And you. So what's the big deal?"

"Just 'cause it's you... probably. You don't seem like the kinda guy to shave. It's cool, though."

My flat stomach caused the top of my jeans to stand above it, giving Kyle plenty of room to slide his hand down to my black, bikini briefs, where my rock-hard boner was hiding. Hiding? Yeah, right. He pulled my cock outa the black pouch, and the damn thing stood up as though it was screaming for air. Then he laid it sideways across my gut.

"You mind?" he smiled with those twinkling, mischievous, hazel eyes of his.

"Would it matter?"

"Would you believe me if I said yeah? And I'd stop?"

"No, don't stop. You make me feel really special, Kyle."

"Maybe 'cause you are. Wanna take your jeans off?"

"Would you be pissed off if I wanted to go out and have a smoke first?"

"No."

In the cool, night air of the courtyard, Kyle watched me light up, then blow a cloud of white smoke into the atmosphere.

"Can I ask you something?"

I had to laugh at that question. "You're gonna ask me anyway."

"Does smoking a reefer help you handle this situation? Y'know... us?"

"Yes it does... I'm not gonna lie to you."

[Kyle's comment: I was sitting on the bench watching him. He was drifting into some deep thought, and I wished I could climb inside his mind. I threw my leg over the bench, and sat facing him. He knew I was staring. I watched his bicep curl into a ball as he lifted the joint to his mouth. I was doing an evaluation of my buddy to see if I could find anything wrong with him. His smooth skin was tanned by his work on the boats every day. I wished that I could've worked with him. His forearms had smooth, sinewy muscles that contracted with every movement of his hands.]

Eventually, I had to giggle at the way Kyle was studying me. I wasn't looking at him directly... I was using my peripheral vision... plus some other sense that told me he was totally fascinated by whatever it was he saw in me.

"OK... what's so funny?" he laughed.

"You. I'm trying to fathom what the fuck is going through that brain of yours."

"I'm doing the same."

"Hey... feel like a beer?"

"Yeah... cool."

Kyle followed me into the kitchen, where I hauled two Heinekens outa the fridge.

"You don't drink Heineken."

"They're shitforbrains'."

"He'll clobber you."

"I'll handle it," I said as I handed him a beer.

Then we went through to the den, where I put a "Live" CD into the player. For a while, we sat on the floor, sipping our beers, listening to the music. But, all the time, I was studying my bud.

"What?" he asked after curiosity had gotten the better of him.

The quizzical look on his face caused me to giggle once again. "What do you mean 'what'?"

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

"You... you dork!"

"Why?"

"When we were outside in the courtyard, I was wondering why you thought my bod was any more special than anyone else's. Check yourself out, Kyle."

"You're being freaky."

"Why?"

"'Cause it's not normal for you to say stuff like that."

"Just stand up... I wanna show you something." He hesitated, and gave me a weird look. "C'mon! C'mon! Stand up!"

After he'd obeyed my order, I stood in front of him. "OK, dork... check this out, and listen up. I'm gonna tell you what Steph sees. OK?" I placed my flat hands on his chest. "Smooth, good looking pecs... defined... nice nipples... and getting hard." I giggled again. "Strong neck, and muscular shoulders. Let's check the biceps." I grabbed his upper arm. "C'mon, make a muscle for me." He raised his arm, and formed his bicep into a ball. "Hmmm, hard and perfect. OK... guts." I placed my flat hands on his stomach.

"You're examining me like I was some kinda biology class project!"

"Shuddup! Hard... flat... OK... so the sixpack has gone for lunch."

"You're tickling me!"

"Oops!" I said as his stomach flattened because of his giggling. "There it is! Hmmm, nice. Steph's a lucky chick." Then I backhanded him in the gut. "Turn around." He hesitated, so I backhanded him in the gut a second time. "Turn, dork!"

As soon as he'd about-faced, my hands cruised over his back, then down his lats to his hips. "Definitely your strong point... wide shoulders... strong, muscular blades, man... narrow hips... smooth. OK... about turn." When he'd turned to face me, he was wearing a silly grin. "Stop fucking smiling, soldier! This is no laughing matter!"

"Fuck, Mark... you're crazy!"

"Shuddup... no back-chatting. Let's check the legs."

I untied his shoelaces, then undid the top button of his jeans, and slid them down his legs. He obliged by lifting one foot at a time as I removed the rest of his clothing except for his boxers.

"I feel like a total geek standing here in my boxer briefs."

Instead of answering him, I stood back, placed my hand on my chin, and studied his bod for a while. Then I knelt in front of him, and rubbed my hands up and down each of his legs. "Hmmm, nice shape... strong... hairless..." Hairless? Hello? I looked closer. "AND SHAVED!"

"Only the bottoms," an embarrassed Kyle explained. "The tops don't have hair."

"YOU TALK ABOUT ME! AND YOU DO IT AS WELL!"

"Only the fucking bottoms, Mark," he laughed. "Fuck off."

"Poodle legs!" I cracked as I rolled around on the floor, holding my gut.

"Shuddup. I shoulda had a clean shave before I went out tonight."

I was still laughing as I pulled his boxers down. "OK... so what else do you shave?" As soon as his boner was free, it smacked against his gut. "NOW I KNOW WHAT STEPH SEES! Fuck! A steel pin!"

"Mark, I'm feeling fucking stupid now... you finished?"

"Shuddup... not by a long shot. Stand there."

I grabbed my Heineken, sat on the couch, and stared at my bud while I drank my beer. Yep... not a bad specimen. Fucking hot, to be honest. Actually, I'd always thought so... and had often jacked off thinking about him. The other thing that was giving me a buzz was that I had him under control, which wasn't an easy thing to do. Kyle was nobody's puppet, so for him to be under my influence like this was a pretty fucking amazing thing.

"Hey, Mark? Can I have another beer?"

"Don't move," I ordered as I raced into the kitchen, then returned with another Heineken. I watched him pour it down his throat. It didn't even touch the sides. The guy seemed nervous and apprehensive... but I was enjoying the situation big time.

When I'd finished my beer, I rose from the couch, and stood in front of him. "See? There's nothing wrong with your bod. But you go crazy about mine for some mad reason."

I moved closer to him, then his face moved closer to mine. As we gazed into each other's eyes, his hands found my jeans, and began to undo the buttons. Our lips met. Our wet, hot tongues went ballistic inside each other's mouths. I could feel his hands on my briefs, massaging my boner. There was no turning back.

As if we were thinking with one mind, and acting with one body, we both ended up on the carpet -- lips and tongues still joined. Kyle was pulling my jeans off, while I was helping by kicking them off with my bare feet.

I moved my mouth away from his face, then took his succulent, brown nipples in turn between my lips, using my tongue to trace lines around them. One hand automatically moved down to his crotch, and began to play with his nads, while I used the index finger of the other to lightly explore the sensitive area between his ass crack and nads.

"Oh, fuck, Mark! What the hell is happening here?"

"I don't know."

Copyright 2001 All rights reserved. mrbstories


 

 Mark Part 82