I'd been invited to go to the movies with the guys on Friday night to see Big Daddy, which was a hoot of a comedy. Kyle had earlier said that he'd try to get me a blind date 'cause the other guys would be bringing their chicks.
"Don't bother. Girls are a pain in the butt, and you've gotta buy them stuff."
"No, you don't."
"Do, too. My dad says you've gotta buy them a chocolate or something, and then they think you're in love or some shit like that. So don't bother. I've got enough trouble just keeping you and Steve under control." I tried to dodge Kyle's hand but I was too late, and copped a clip over the ear.
After the movie, we all went for pizza. I'd been right about it being better not having a date. Steph and Steve's girlfriend were making enough fuss about me as it was, and I didn't have to buy them anything. Later, we walked the girls home, then went back to Kyle's house.
"You gonna sleep over?"
"Can't. Gotta get up early tomorrow to go out with my folks, dammit. Anyway, thanks for a cool night. See ya later!"
Steve had also said that he couldn't sleep over, but that he'd chill with Kyle for a while in his room. As I slipped under my covers, I thought about what they might be doing -- apart from listening to music, that was. I was tempted to sneak over and peek through Kyle's window, but he would've killed me if I'd been busted. Besides, it would've been a totally uncool thing to do. Hmmm. Tempting, though.
So what was it with those two guys? They were two of the best looking hunks in town, and top surfers. And they both had girlfriends. I knew from the buzz around the traps that Steve fucked like a rabbit. There was hardly a girl on the beach that wouldn't have thrown her legs in the air if he'd so much as winked at her. He had a build like a mini Arnie, a wicked tan, and long, blonde hair that kinda had a mind of its own. He had the kinda face that movie talent scouts would kill for, but he wasn't interested in all that showbiz bullshit. Actually, Steve was pretty damn smart, and a math wizz. It seemed… I turned on the light, got outa bed and grabbed the dictionary… yeah, incongruous. How could such an awesome looking guy be a brainbox? Or vice versa? It didn't figure.
"Haven't you gone to sleep yet?"
"I had to look up a word, mom."
"And why aren't you wearing your PJs?"
"Jeez! PJs are for little kids."
Anyway, I got back into bed, turned off the light and thought about Kyle and Steve again. I was hundreds that they'd be jacking each other or something. Or something? It was almost impossible to resist the urge to jump the fence and take a peek. What could 'or something' be? Would Kyle tell me if I asked?
By the time I'd arrived home with my folks on Saturday, Kyle was out mowing lawns around the hood, and earning money. He was good like that -- a real head for business. But then he'd blow it all on gifts for other people.
During the rest of the weekend, we surfed a bit, but it wasn't all that great. And I couldn't get an opportunity to ask Kyle about stuff he did with Steve. Well, even when I did get a chance, I couldn't pluck up the nerve. Anyway, I thought a lot about what was gay and what wasn't. If Kyle and Steve were two of the hunkiest dudes around, and they both had girlfriends, and they… well... jacked each other off or whatever, what did real gay guys do? Or was there such a thing as a little bit gay? Those weren't the kinda questions I could ask my folks or even Mr Morgan 'cause they'd get suspicious. Kyle was the only dude I could talk to about that kinda shit -- and, even then, I had to be careful not to sound gay. And Brian? Hey, he was just a fucking kid. What the hell would he know?
On the Monday, there was no way I could talk to Kyle about anything at all. There was a cloud of black smoke coming outa his ears 'cause a diskette was fucked. It was the one containing his diary of the trip to Jeffrey's Bay with Steve, and the whole damn thing had been corrupted. Two months work down the drain. He was so damn furious, I figured the tip of my finger would ignite if I'd touched him.
Later in the week, the surf had bummed out so a bunch of us just sat on the beach and chatted about shit. By that stage, though, my curiosity was almost killing me, so I decided to adopt a different strategy, and took advantage of moment alone with Steph.
"Hey, Steph, have you and Kyle had sex yet?"
"I've given him a blowjob."
Fuck! I hadn't expected her to be so damn honest! I'd figured she'd go all redfaced and avoid my question. "Really?"
"You're blushing big time, Wingnut," she laughed.
"I guess I'm kinda shocked. So what did Kyle do?"
"He came in my mouth."
"Gross! You're a couple of sickos!"
"You'll change your mind one day."
"So then what did Kyle do?"
"You'd better go ask him."
Well, that was easier said than done. By the time we'd all arrived back at Kyle's house, I had to jet 'cause I had homework to do. But Steph stayed with Kyle. So what was gonna happen? Was she gonna give him another blowjob? Whoa! The thought of Kyle's juice coming outa his pisshole and into Steph's mouth was just too fucking much! How could she do that? And did she…? Nah, no way. She wouldn't have. She couldn't have! Yuk!
By about midweek, the weather was all over the fucking shop. The surf had been flattened, but we went out, anyway. Besides, it was a chance to practice my paddling technique which had improved outa sight. Even I was surprised at how strong my arms had become during the last month or so.
Kyle and Steve were sitting on the beach when I left the water and joined them.
"You think I'm improving?" I asked as I dropped my stick on the sand. I knew the answer, of course, but I wanted to hear it.
"You've become helluva surfing fit, Wingnut, and it's fucking cool to watch."
"You mean that? Cool!"
"And Steve was watching your buns tighten every time you lifted your chest to paddle." Kyle raised his hand to block the handful of sand that Steve had thrown at him.
"Yeah, right," I laughed, then sat alongside my bro. "Hey, Kyle?"
"What was it like?"
"What?" he grinned, like he knew what I was driving at.
"What about her?"
"What she did."
"What was that?"
"What she did with you!"
"She kisses great."
"WHAT WAS IT LIKE HAVING HER SUCK YOUR COCK?" Jeez! It was a wonder everybody on the damn beach hadn't heard me.
"Oh, that?" he grinned. "Pretty wicked."
What was he trying to do to me? Drive me fucking nutz? "What does it feel like?"
"Well, I'll tell you this much: your dick will feel like it wants to burst outa its skin when there are lips and a tongue around it."
"Better than jacking?" By this stage, my woody was threatening to split my wetsuit in half.
"So what did you do?"
"Came in her mouth."
"Not that… what did you do for her?"
"I sucked her tits."
"Didn't you have to go down there?"
"How can she put your pisshole in her mouth like that?"
"It doesn't taste like piss."
Huh? What kinda answer was that? "How do you know, anyway?"
"I just do."
"Hey, would she suck on me like that? Only joking." Then I started to giggle like crazy. Steve hadn't said a word during the whole of the convo, though. He just sat there all the while with his arms wrapped around his raised knees, and grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Well, that night it was damn near impossible to concentrate on my homework. If Steph blew Kyle, did Kyle and Steve do that kinda stuff together? On the one hand, it seemed totally gross, but, on the other, Kyle said that being blown was way better than jacking. How could anything be way better than jacking? Jacking rocked! But if it was… well, I guessed guys could kinda get to like it… maybe even with each other. And how come Kyle had said that cum didn't taste like piss? Did Steph tell him that? Or did he know already? Whoa! Sooooo many questions, and not enough answers!
The next day, the surf was ripping big time, but I didn't get there until late. I'd had rugger practice and Kyle wasn't home to see me covered in mud and grass stains, and with one sock up and one down. Oh, well. He and Steve were already out back when I paddled out beyond the breakers. The surf was so good, that half the fucking town was out there by the time we'd decided to call it a day, but at least I'd managed to stay outa trouble. Then we headed back to Kyle's place to shower. As usual, they had their Speedos on under their wetties while I was nude. I got the feeling that those guys would've been naked, too, if I hadn't been there. There was definitely something that they were keeping from me.
The following day, Steve had to go into town with his folks, so it was just me and Kyle. At last, I had an opportunity to ask more questions as we sat astride our sticks, riding the swell. There were a couple of seals playing nearby and, occasionally, we spotted a dolphin.
"So how does it feel to have someone sucking on your dick, and where do you shoot off?"
"Inside their mouth."
"And where do they spit it?"
"They don't. They swallow."
"Fuck! That is so gross!"
"Hey, you've forgotten something."
"That day you stuck your finger in my jizz and tasted it."
Whoa! I could feel my face going redder than a beet. "That was different."
"I just wanted to find out what it tasted like."
"And how did it taste?"
"Hey," he grinned, "if you really want to taste it, you can blow me and I can offload down your throat."
"Ugh! Stick your pisshole in my mouth? No fucking way, Jose!"
After that, I caught some totally wicked waves and was really styling, and getting stoked big time. That was one of the great things about surfing -- it focused your mind completely on what you were doing, so that everything else in your head kinda vanished. At least for the time being.
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