South Africa
Part 87

On Tuesday after work, I met up with Kyle, and we took the train back to his house. He was gazing out the window at the sea. The surf was pretty flat, with a low swell.

"I wanna show you something really special. When we get home, grab my stick. We're going surfing."

"I don't have a wetsuit. I'll freeze my nuts off out there."

"I'll leave my wettie behind, too. It'll be cool."

"Fucking cold is more like it."

Half an hour later, with me wearing a pair of his boardies that were struggling to grip my narrow hips, and wondering why the fuck I was doing this, we paddled out to beyond the swell, and sat on our boards.

"There's no surf here, Kyle... which is just as well 'cause I'd get trashed."

"I knew there was no surf... I wanted to show you another one of my happy places."

"I always knew that you loved this place, anyway."

"Yeah, I know... but I just wanted you to share it with me for a short while. Just listen."

We sat there quietly, listening to the gulls as our boards rocked with the gentle swell. It was a peaceful place, like Kyle's mountain... a place where you could soak up the beauty of nature, and allow it to soothe your spirit.

"You haven't told me when you're leaving," he said after a minute or two.

"I was going to tell you tonight. I'm leaving tomorrow, Kyle... catching a bus after work."

"Tell me you're coming back one day, Mark. Please?"

"I'd like that. You know that. I'm not sure what's gonna happen, Kyle. I'm shit scared."

"You're gonna miss the surf, too," he mocked.

We both laughed when I replied, "Yeah, 'cept I can't surf for shit. This is your domain."

We didn't stay long at Kyle's house. I said my goodbyes to his folks, who were helluva nice people. His mom's eyes were full of tears, which was to be expected. But I hadn't expected the big hug I got from his dad. In a lotta ways, they were like my adopted family, and had always made me feel welcome.

Kyle put his toothbrush into the side pocket of his cargos, then his dad offered to give us a lift to my flat. He knew that catching trains of a night sucked rocks.

My boss's house blew Kyle's hair back when he saw it. "I thought it would be in Cape Town itself, not out here in Camps Bay. Your boss must be fucking loaded!" And he was equally impressed with my 'little garden flat'. "Fucking hell! You call this little? This is totally wicked!"

I prepared a chicken casserole while Kyle watched me. "Typical," he laughed. "You shoulda been a fucking chef. The way you prepare food is just the way you are... everything's perfect."

"Like your wardrobe. I noticed how you'd rearranged it when I was dressing."

"I wanted it to look like yours."

"Feel like a beer?" I asked as I slipped the casserole into the oven.

"Cool."

We were laughing and talking about old times, when I suddenly decided to take the initiative. "Hey, Kyle. Fuck, dude... we're on our own. Let's get naked and swim."

He didn't need a second invite. Seconds later, we scarpered our naked asses across the lawn, and dove into the coolness of the floodlit pool. I was the first to start a wrestling match... a typical guy thing that I enjoyed. Guys couldn't wrestle their girls. Neither of us gave a fuck where our hands were going, and, pretty soon, we both had roaring boners.

After giggling our tits off for ten minutes or so, we swam toward the steps, where I sat while Kyle stayed in the water and hung with his arms over my shins. He was obviously enjoying himself too much to be miserable, and it was great to see him looking so happy.

I raised my legs, and lifted him slightly while he gawked at my bulging thighs and sixpack. It was just too fucking easy to mesmerize my bud. He was totally crazy about my muscles.

"This is what I'm gonna miss," he said as he ran his hands along my legs. "Just being able to touch you."

"Hey, don't start making yourself feel miserable. I'm going to miss feeling you touch me." And I was. Kyle had a way of touching me that was not only sensual, but loving. There was much more to it than lust alone.

"Just lean back for a sec... I need to check something."

I did as he asked, and rested on my elbows, while he lifted my legs over his broad shoulders, and opened his mouth wide enough to swallow a football. Then I watched him take both my nads into his mouth, which caused my breathing to become louder and heavier. He tried to say something, but it came out as "hmmppphhh."

I cracked up completely... kinda undecided about whether to laugh or groan. "Stop talking with your mouth full!"

He released my balls, then backstroked to the center of the pool. "OK," he grinned.

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

"Whatever you like."

I slid into the water, and glided toward him. I wrapped my strong arms around him, pulled him close to me, and held him tight. "I don't know what you've done to me, Kyle, but I love you. I don't always show it, but I do. You're not going to believe this, but I am going to miss you. I'm going to miss this... being with you."

I reached down to his butt with one hand, and pulled his crotch closer to mine, so that our boners were kissing. I remembered those early days in the gym when he'd talk about my being afraid to be close. Well, now I wasn't... not with him. And it was very clear to me now what he'd meant back in those aggro days. My aggro days. Being close was cool. Way cool.

I tilted my head back a little so that I could get a good look at my bud's face. He was being brave under the circumstances, but there was sadness in his hazel eyes. "For a hunk," I smiled, "you're a pretty ugly dude."

"Speak for yourself! With all those ugly bumps all over your body, and especially your stomach and chest."

"But you taste good."

As soon as my lips met his, we both opened our mouths, and allowed our tongues to play. Time became irrelevant as we kissed, pausing every now and then to say loving and tender things to each other, while our fingers ran through each other's hair. Then we'd kiss again. It wasn't so much that Kyle was a guest in my house, it was more like I was a guest in his world, and his world went wherever he went. He was, without a doubt, the most extraordinary guy I'd ever met... or would ever meet.

When we eventually got outa the pool, and walked across the lawn toward my flat, I grabbed Kyle's hand and squeezed it. Both our boners were bouncing around as if to celebrate the occasion.

"We can't eat supper while we're naked," I insisted as we entered the eat-in kitchen.

"Why not?"

"'Cause it's kinda ceremonial. You can borrow a pair of my shorts."

I gave him a pair of my thin, cotton, gym shorts, which were a bit tight around his waist. He was 30" while I was 28". But at least his dick could breathe, he joked.

As we ate the casserole, we laughed about old times... the swim tours, the hiking trips, and all of the hundreds of things we'd done together. We spoke about Wingnut and Candy, and the girls, and Steve. And, as we spoke, I began to become more and more curious about Kyle's relationship with Paul. I'd seen them together during Paul's visit to Cape Town for Kyle's 18th, and I'd gotten to know Paul quite well even though his stay was only for a week or so.

"You and Paul were helluva close, so I've got a question for you... but you don't need to answer it, Kyle."

"Sounds ominous."

Hmmm. That wasn't the response I'd been expecting, and I could feel the heat radiating from my blushing face. "Did you and Paul ever go further than just blowing each other?"

"When he came down for my 18th we did. Hey, I know I can tell you stuff now. And yes, Paul and me went the whole nine yards. But before your brain starts playing games, it was very special for both of us."

Playing games? What games? I'd suspected all along that he and Paul would have 'done it', so it wasn't really a surprise. What did confuse me a little, though, was that neither Paul nor Kyle appeared to be the type to 'go the whole nine yards'. They looked normal. They acted normal. Well, in public they did.

"You hassled by that?" Kyle asked, and made me realize that I'd been quiet for a while.

"It's weird, but I'm not. And I think it's got something to do with your relationship with Paul. I'm not gonna be your judge, Kyle. It's not the sorta thing I can even imagine properly. But then a lot has changed about me, and my whole attitude to the way you do things." While I'd been speaking, Kyle's eyes had begun to water. "Hey, you look like you're deep in thought."

"Hey, I think I've been pretty good. Don't you think? I mean, about you leaving and all. The fact is, I don't know what I'm gonna do once you leave. I guess time will take care of things like it did when Paul left. But I'm really battling to handle people leaving my life. It's not just that I love you, Mark... I'm in love with you. There's a huge difference." Then he laughed at his inability to control himself. "Hey, I'm not handling this too well now. Huh, Mark?"

"You've made me really fucking aware of how I must look to other people, Kyle. Are you sure you're not just in love with what you see? I don't want it to sound like it's cheap or anything... I'm just wanting you to sort it out in your own head. I know that I love you very much... but there is a difference. If I was in love with you, I'd be thinking about spending the rest of my life with you. You need to understand why that can't happen. At the same time, I want you to know that you've got this huge piece of my heart that nobody can ever take away."

"I know I can't have you forever."

"I'm also pretty proud of you, buddy. I know how hard this has been for you. It's hard enough for me. But I know that you've been working on your smiley face for my benefit. What I feel for you is very different to the way I've ever felt about anybody."

After we'd finished eating, and Kyle had helped me do the dishes and clean up, we went to the living room, sat on the couch, and enjoyed some wine. Pretty soon, my thoughts had caused the corners of my mouth to curl up, and give Kyle one of my dimpled, Marky 'what's up' smiles.

"What?"

"I'm just thinking," I giggled.

"So tell me."

"Just all sorts of shit... stupid stuff."

"Fuck, Mark! I'm gonna hit you if you don't tell me!"

"OK... how did it taste?"

"Hey, it was good! But then you've always been able to cook. That's why I wanna marry you, so you can keep house and cook."

"Fuck you, Kyle," I laughed. "The other stuff."

"All your food is good."

What was it with Kyle? Whenever I figured he had a one-track mind, he didn't. He could be so fucking innocent when I least expected it. "Ahhh... forget it."

"What? Am I missing something here? C'mon... level with me."

"My cum! OK... so there... I said it. How did my cum taste?"

Well, that blew him totally outa the water. He sat there looking at me as though he couldn't believe what I'd just said. After a few moments, he'd recovered enough to answer my question.

"How does your juice taste? It was good. Strong. I loved it. You're gonna have to bottle the stuff and send it to me from Johannesburg. Mine?"

"This convo is getting weird."

"Hey, fuck! Relax! It's just us."

"It tasted weird. I couldn't do what you do... like swallow the stuff."

"There's this story about this dude on the web -- Daniel -- he's also a teen -- he and his buddies juice their pizzas, then eat them."

Whoa! He had to be kidding. "Kak!" [Pronounced 'kuk', meaning 'shit].

"Serious."

"But it's just a story, right?"

"I did that with Paul once... or was it twice? Not sure."

"How fucking gross is that?"

"Actually," he shrugged, "it wasn't that gross. And it's full of protein."

I couldn't help but collapse laughing. Kyle was just sooo fucking casual about juicing pizzas that it was like, "Hey! It's no biggie." And the more I thought about it, the more hysterical I became.

Copyright 2001 All rights reserved. mrbstories


 

 Mark Part 88