I'd been spending so much time at Kyle's, it was a wonder that my folks recognized me. I was there again for the rugger playoff match between South Africa and France, after Australia had beaten France in the World Cup. It was way cooler to be with Kyle, his dad, and Mark than at home, 'cause we were allowed to make a helluva lotta noise during the game, which we did. Big time! I figured the whole fucking neighborhood could've heard our screaming and yelling when the 'Boks beat France.
The match was telecast from England, and finished close to midnight. By that time, I was totally wasted. I vaguely remembered Kyle carrying me home, where mom undressed me and put me to bed.
I was back to my energetic self the next day, though, and begged Kyle to swim in the pool with me. That was really just an excuse to wrestle with him in the water and goof off. My bro was helluva strong. He could pick me up and toss me into the pool like I weighed nothing, but I was no lighty.
"Are your folks home?"
I ditched my Speedos right away, and threw them onto the lawn. "Hey, you know when you said I was a twelve year old Jean-Claude? What did you mean?"
"You're fishing for compliments again, Wingnut."
"I just wanna know."
"Well, I guess you're a lot more like me than I realized."
You love being naked. You keep fit."
"I look in the mirror at home and try to see what you see. If you described me to somebody, what would you say?" A mischievous grin spread across his face, and I knew he was getting ready to make some smartass comment. "And be fucking honest!"
"OK, OK! Settle! Well, I guess surfing has made a big diff. You're helluva defined for a grommet, and you've got really powerful legs. All the paddling has given your back muscles a lotta definition as well. And you've got those neat arrows."
"Yeah, those little flaps of muscle over your hips, and those lines that lead down to your dick."
"I've seen Steph eyeballing those when I pull my boardies down a bit. Do you tell Steve and Mark stuff about their bods?"
"Sometimes," he grunted as he lifted me in his muscular arms. "But they don't quiz the fuck outa me like you do." I found myself flying through the air once again, before splash down.
Nothing, not even the approaching exams, could've stopped us all hitting the surf a few days later. There were green rooms all over the place, and the waves were pretty sizey -- about six feet! Fast, and great shapes. Even Kyle's dad and some of his buds were there. It was the best surf we'd had for ages. There were a lotta lookers on the beach, too, including Mark and Carol.
Anyway, I didn't waste a single wave. I paddled for every damn thing that came my way. One time, I thought I was a goner when I was trashed by a big wave, and my board flew into the air before plummeting earthwards. I ducked just in time to avoid getting my head rearranged. It didn't faze me, though. Within a minute, I was flying down the glassy face of the next tube.
We were all totally amped -- Kyle, Steph, Steve and me. When we'd meet on the back line, we'd shout over the top of each other, each guy asking the other if he'd seen his last ride. Wow! You should've seen this, or you should've seen that! Judging from Steve's excitement, he must've had more green rooms in one afternoon than he'd had in a fucking month. On the walk home, though, we were all so totally stuffed, we could hardly lift our leaden feet. I slept like a log that night.
Cape Town weather did its usual unpredictable thing the next day. The surf had turned to mush. The main wind was the south-easter which fucked the local beach, but made Long Beach rock. The prob with Long Beach was that, when it was working, every damn dude and his dog was there. And all the fucking grommets [except me, of course] would be yelling, "My wave! My wave!" as if it was gonna be the last wave in the break. Idiots.
Anyway, there was always Kyle's place. Instead of hopping the fence, I knocked on his front door 'cause I'd just returned from checking the beach. When my bud finally arrived, he was dripping wet, and wrapped in a towel.
"Cool! You're in the pool already!"
"Nope, just cooling off. Then I've gotta study. C'mon in."
"Mom says I can swim for a while," I explained as I followed the broad shoulders and muscular back through the house, "then I've got studying as well. Is the dog crap still lying around?"
"Nope," he giggled, "I've picked it up already."
"Way cool." Then I noticed a mop of long, wet, blonde hair in the pool. "Hey, Steve!"
"You're leaking." There was a pre-cum trail oozing from Steve's dick, and I could see it plainly in the water. What had these guys been up to? Anyway, Steve looked kinda embarrassed, and grabbed the silvery trail to disperse it. Too late, I thought. This kid misses nothing. Kyle also had a huge tent under his towel.
"Hang, Wingnut, I'll go get some juice for us all."
Well, if Kyle had hoped his boner would go down by the time he'd returned to the pool, he was mistaken. By that time, I was naked in the pool with Steve. Nothing happened, though -- just the usual wrestling and fooling around. Kyle and Steve were normally pretty subdued when I was around, but I would've bet my bottom dollar that things were helluva different when I wasn't. But why? That was something I couldn't figure. If Kyle and I jacked each other, and I figured that's what those guys must've been doing when I arrived at the front door, why stop just 'cause I was there? On the other hand, would I want Steve gawking at me and Kyle if we were jacking? Hmmm. There was probably another reason for their secrecy. Steve was considered to be the local stud by a lotta groupies, and I guessed he had a macho reputation to uphold. So what did he think I was gonna do? Run around the beach with a fucking megaphone? Jeez, I had a reputation as a stud, too. Anyway, I had to stop thinking about that shit 'cause it was confusing the fuck outa me, and giving me a headache.
Next day, the surf was up again, and I had a total rave session. Kyle was in the middle of exams, so he'd stayed home to study. I couldn't resist paying him a visit when I got home. "Jeez, you missed some fucking awesome waves, Kyle."
"It was totally wicked out there!"
"Glad to hear it."
"I was in the green room!"
"You wanna listen to some Peppers in the headphones and lemme study?"
"OK. I can take a hint."
"Hey, we're having a braai here on Saturday night. You wanna come?"
As I listened to the Peppers, I thought about the braai. All the guys would be there with their chicks. And me? It was time for action!
"Mom? Can I make a phone call? It's important."
I phoned Candy, the cute, blonde chick who hung out at the beach, and who'd always ogled me when I was surfing. We'd recently met again at Long Beach, where she'd given me her phone number. "Maybe we can go for pizza or something," she'd said. Anyway, I told her about the braai at Kyle's on Saturday, and asked her if she'd like to go with me. Woohoo! She said yes!
"Do I look OK, mom? Do you think Candy will think I look cool?"
"Good heavens! What have you done to your hair?"
"It's gelled, mom. Lots of guys gel their hair. It's cool."
"If I were Candy, and you appeared at the door like that, I'd think I'd given you a terrible fright."
Jeez, what did mom's know? No point in asking. Anyway, I rocked over to Candy's and knocked on the door. Sure, I was nervous. What guy wouldn't be? But when the door opened, I was greeted by a smile a yard wide. "Hi, Wingnut." Woohoo! I looked cool! Yes! And so did she! Whoa! She had on a small top that showed her midriff, which was so damn cute, and a pair of blue jeans. I was wearing a pair of tight, black jeans, a white, open-neck shirt, which I had hanging loose, and sneakers.
By the time we'd arrived at Kyle's front door, I could hear that the braai was already underway in the backyard. Cool, I thought. Candy and I can make a huge fucking entrance, and blow their minds! And that's exactly what we did! None of the guys had expected me to arrive with a neat chick! Hey, eat your heart out, dudes. This is my new studdup look! And this grommet fucking rules!
Well, my new image had the desired effect. Candy and I were mingling with the guys and getting along like… well, like I wasn't a grommet. It was just so damn cool to be an equal!
I was still excited as all hell the next day, and wanted to talk to Kyle about the braai, but he had his nose in his books. Damn exams! "Sorry, Wingnut, but I gotta nail this lot. I'll make it up to you when the pressure's off." I couldn't help feeling deflated, so I went back home and phoned Candy.
"So where were you yesterday?" Kyle asked the next time I hopped the fence and bounced into his room. "I missed you not messing up my bed for a change."
"Went to visit Candy."
"Oh?" My bro suddenly became interested, and looked up from his books as I sat on the side of his bed.
"Hey, I just went to say hi and stuff."
"I told her she was cute. You happy now?"
That cracked Kyle right up. "So what did she say?"
I could feel my face burning with embarrassment. "Stuff."
"What? Stuff off? Or stuff you? Or you're stuffy?"
"If you tease me, I'm going home after beating you up."
"Reeeeally?" he grinned. "OK, I'll try not to tease you."
"She said I was pretty hot, and she liked me a lot."
"Well, she's got good taste."
"Serious. Like I told you the other day, you're a pretty hot little dude. Candy's pretty neat, too. You've got good taste."
"Yeah, well she thinks I'm gonna look like you when I'm bigger. So I asked her if she really thought I was gonna turn out that ugly," I giggled.
Kyle wasted no time in lunging at me, and we were soon wrestling on his bed. I was on my back in a second, with his knees pinning my arms, and his knuckles drilling my chest. "Say what?"
"Oh, fuck, Kyle… that's sore."
"Handsome… hunky," I groaned and squirmed in pain. "Fuck! Get off!"
I followed Kyle to the kitchen, then watched him make some peanut butter sarmies and juice. "Might as well," he explained. "You've screwed my study for a while."
"How come my cock gets rock hard whenever Candy and me kiss?" I was pretty sure that he was gonna tease me again, but he didn't.
"It's a natural reaction for guys. Her panties probably got wet as hell, too."
"Is that kinda like a girl's pre-cum?"
"Jeez, Wingnut! I'm making sarmies, dammit. Can you chill with those kinda Qs for a while?"
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