South Africa
Part 11

After dinner, I asked mom if I could see Kyle for just a few minutes. "But you spent all afternoon with him and Steve in the surf!"

"Just for a few minutes, mom? I suddenly thought of something I forgot before."

"Five minutes and not a moment longer. You still have your homework to do."

"Thanks, mom," I yelled as I ran through the door, then hopped the fence.

Kyle was sitting at his desk with his nose in his school books as I knocked on his open door. "Is it OK if I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure. C'mon in."

I sat on the side of the bed and told him all about my fantasy the night before, and how I'd jacked off at the beach and blew my load all over the groupies, and how he and Steve were watching. "You guys were yelling and clapping, and thought I was totally awesome."

"You really fantasized all that? That's totally outasight!" Kyle closed his book and stared at me in amazement. "I can't believe it!"

"What do you fantasize about?"

"Well, nothing that awesome, Wingnut," he laughed. "My imagination doesn't stretch nearly as far as yours. I gotta tell ya, though, I've noticed how all the groupies and some of the older girls hang around you."

"Around me? Nah, they're just hanging with the rest of the guys. Aren't they? Anyway, how come you told me that the groupies you were with this afternoon didn't say anything about me?"

"Just teasing you, Wingnut," he smiled.

"So what did they say? You can tell me. I'm almost twelve!"

"Lemme put it this way. It's the way you can handle the cold water. It just doesn't seem to bother you. All the other guys are in wetsuits while you're raving in boardies." He cracked for a moment, then continued. "It's just so damn funny to see you on a wave, having to pull up your boardies all the time. It's a total fucking hoot!"

"You mean I look dumb?"

"No way, Wingnut. You look totally cool and... well, I guess the girls think you look sexy. Maybe it's the size of your cock or something."

"Do you think I look sexy?"

Kyle opened his book again and flipped a few pages, like he was trying to avoid my eyes. "Since when are guys supposed to think that other guys look sexy?"

"Since I think that you and Steve look sexy. What's wrong with that? Hey! Look at the time! My mom's gonna kill me. Talk to you tomorrow, OK? See ya!"

I was half done with my homework when I needed to ask my dad something. The convo I'd had with Kyle was bothering me big time 'cause I wasn't sure if I should've said stuff about him and Steve looking sexy. It might have sounded kinda gay. "Dad? Can I ask you a quick question?"

"If it's about your homework, son, forget it," he smiled, peering over the top of his newspaper and lowering his glasses. "Your mother's smarter than I am."

"I just wanted to know who's your fav actor."

"Favorite actor? I dunno." He searched his mind for a moment or two. "Maybe Tom Cruise. Why?"

"Just wondering. Do you think he's sexy?"

"Your mother does."

"But do you?"

"Well, I suppose he'd have to be sexy if he's married to Nicole Kidman. Now, she's sexy! Whoa!"

"Yes, she's absolutely gorgeous," mom interjected as she walked into the room. "Have you finished your homework yet?"

"Almost! Thanks, dad."

Back in my room, I figured I'd gotten the answers I needed. It was OK for a guy to admit that another guy was sexy, and for a woman to think that another woman was sexy 'cause mom said so -- well, sort of. Anyway, at least I had the ammunition I needed to convince Kyle that it was OK for me to think that he and Steve were sexy. Yeah! I was pretty smart for a kid going on twelve!

It was after school the next day when Steve, Kyle and I went surfing that I got a chance to talk to the guys again. We were walking home with our sticks under our arms, rapping about the session. They had their wetties on while I was naked except for my boardies which were hanging half way down my ass. I liked showing the top of my ass crack, though, 'cause it looked cool. Not that I could see it -- but my buds looked cool when they showed theirs. "Do you guys like Tom Cruise?"

"Yeah, he's neat."

"Do you think he's sexy?"

"Sure, for an older dude. Do you have a crush on him?"

"Not really but, if I did, that'd be OK, right?"

"Sure."

Woohoo! Now the guys would never be able to gimme shit about thinking another guy was sexy, or about having a crush on a guy! Damn! I was one smart little fucker! I had those guys by the short and curlies, big time!

Steve had to jet just after we'd gotten back to Kyle's house, so I took the opportunity to chat a while as I watched him make some peanut butter sandwiches. "Last night you said I looked sexy at the beach."

"I said the girls probably thought you were."

I watched Kyle unzip his wettie and peel it down his tanned, muscular body. He had his Speedos on underneath, but I could see the outline of his soft six inches clearly beneath the flimsy nylon. "What about the guys?"

"I guess some of the guys do -- which reminds me, Wingnut, there are some weird guys who hang out at the beach, and you'd better watch out for them. One of them groped my furniture once and tried to hit on me."

"What if Steve groped your furniture?"

"That's different -- he's a friend. It's like I told you before, stuff like that is OK if you're friends, but not if it's some total fucking stranger who's trying to invade your space. Take this."

I took the sandwich and followed Kyle to his room. "OK, so why do you think some of the guys think I'm sexy?"

"How come you're asking so many damn questions all of a sudden?"

"'Cause I wanna know the fucking answers! Why else?"

Kyle collapsed on his bed and cracked up totally. "You're too much, Wingnut," he said between breaths. "Hey, lemme tell you something. It might be an idea for you to wear your Speedos under your boardies."

"Why?"

"'Cause you've got a big cock."

"So how am I gonna show it off if I'm wearing Speedos?" I laughed. "Besides, I wanna get the groupies sweating their pussies like you and Steve do."

"One of these days, bud, you're gonna lose your boardies in the wash while you're still in the tube."

"Cool! I'll be so damn stoked, I'll rip outa the green room with a huge woodie for all the groupies to sweat over!"

Kyle was cracking up something wicked as he removed his Speedos and tossed them in the corner. But I wasn't sure if he was laughing at me or with me. "You don't believe me? Huh?"

"Yeah," he said when he'd recovered his breath, "I believe you, dude." He stood and towelled around his crotch and between his legs, then sniffed the towel. "Damn, I'm gonna have to stop pissing in my wettie."

"So you think I'm sexy?"

"Yeah," he admitted with a kind of sheepish grin, "I think you're sexy."

"Woohoo! Way cool! Can I ask one more question?"

"You will, anyway."

"If there are some guys on the beach who think I'm sexy, then there must be some guys in my class at school -- not counting Brian -- who think so, too. But I've never noticed any. How come?"

"If there are any gay guys in your class, which there probably are, and who you're probably making permanently wet, they'd be freaking big time. South Africa's not like America or Australia, y'know."

"It's cool to be gay over there?"

"Cooler than here."

"So, how do I tell who's gay in my class?"

"You said one more question, bud, and that's one more than one more. I've got a stack of homework to do, so you'd better beetle. We can talk more later. Oh, and one more thing before you go. If anybody ever touches you or hassles you, lemme know. OK? The guy won't be able to walk by the time I've finished with him."

Damn, I thought to myself back in my room, this was getting more and more complicated. There were gays in my class and I didn't know about them? I looked up the encyclopaedia under 'homosexual' and found that they were about ten percent of the population. Hmmm. There were thirty kids in my class, so that meant there'd have to be three gay kids. But who? Lance was a kind of wimpy kid. Maybe he was gay.

"Mom? There's a kid in my class -- Lance -- he's kinda girly. Know what I mean? Does that make him different?"

"What do you mean by different?"

"Y'know -- kinda gay or whatever."

"Well, he sounds effeminate, but that doesn't necessarily mean he's gay. Gays can be as macho as the next guy. Why do you ask?"

"'Cause I looked up 'homosexual' in the encyclopaedia."

"They're giving you that kind of homework in grade seven?"

"No, not exactly. It's just that Kyle told me to watch out for weirdos at the beach."

"Oh! Well, he's right, of course. But he's not talking about gays -- he's talking about predators. Predators can be gay or straight. It has nothing to do with sexuality."

"How come you know so much about this stuff?"

"I've been around," she smiled. "Anyway, it's like your father and I have always said -- don't talk to strangers."

"But if I never talked to strangers, I'd have the same friends all my life! Besides, all my friends were strangers before I met them. Steve and Kyle were strangers before I met them! Was dad a stranger when you first met him?"

Mom looked across the room at dad who was reading a magazine. "Are you listening to this conversation, darling?"

"Yes." He folded the magazine and placed it on his lap. "The boy's right. You and I were strangers before we met."

"Are you saying that it's OK for him to talk to strangers?"

"No, I'm not saying that at all, honey. I'm simply saying that while he's a boy -- no offence to you, son -- he has to be careful of those people in whom he places his trust. He doesn't have the experience yet to judge strangers adequately. And, until he does, he has to be careful."

"But I am careful, dad! I'm smart!"

"So are the predators, son. Smarter than you know."

"Well, I'll be OK, 'cause Kyle said he'd punch any dude's lights out who hassled me."

"You have a good friend in Kyle, my boy. He's like a big brother to you -- and your mother and I are very pleased that he looks after you so well."

"I wanna be just like Kyle." Oops! "I'll bet you were just like Kyle when you were a teen, dad." Whoa! Quick save!

"Well, maybe not exactly, but he's a fine boy. So is Steve, for that matter. They're both the kind of lads any parent would be proud of, as your mother and I are proud of you. And you've shown mature judgement to have chosen them to be close friends."

"Cool, dad. Thanks for that. Thanks a stack!"

Copyright 1999 All rights reserved. mrbstories


 

 Wingnut Part 12