As with all the stories which involve Wingnut and Mark in the same circumstances, the story is told by Kyle to avoid duplication.
South Africa
Part 1
On the morning of the last day of June, 2000, I woke early after hearing my dad rummaging around in the kitchen. He was wearing the boxers I'd given him for Father's Day, with 'eat me' written on them. The first thing I noticed as I ambled into the room, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes, was a huge bulge in the crotch.
"You've got a boner."
"Yep… so have you. Coffee? Looks like you need it."
"Nice boxers, dad."
"Yeah… but your mom doesn't read."
"Can I borrow them?" I laughed. "Steph reads."
"I'm sure. Can I borrow Steph?" he grinned. Actually, my dad was pretty awesome looking for an older guy, and I figured he could still turn teen girls' heads no prob… especially if they saw him in his boxers.
"Have you got any plans for tonight, Kyle?"
"Not yet."
"Your mom and I wanna take you out to dinner. Into it?"
"Sounds OK."
"Want one of your friends to come along?"
"No. I think just us will be cool. We don't get a stack of time to be together. Hey, dad? How about taking today off work, and we can go surfing together. The 'berg wind is blowing."
"I wish. I'm going to try to get a half day off, though. Maybe I'll join you guys later."
"Neat."
The coffee was just the pick-me-up I needed. The night before, I'd been at the pizza restaurant with Steph. Mark was waiting tables, and looking totally wicked in his butt-filled jeans and green top with his nametag. The top did nothing to hide his perfect pecs, which half the damn restaurant patrons were gawking at. And who could blame them? Later, I walked Steph back to her place. I didn't go inside, though, 'cause her folks were home. I was sure her dad thought I was a rapist or something. He'd watch me with hawk eyes whenever I was there. He was cool enough, though.
I was at a bit of a loose end, and the night was still youngish, so I rocked over to Kevin's house, where he was goofing off with three friends, all of them totally fucked outa their brackets.
"What the fuck are you guys on?"
"Coke… the sniffing kind, not the sipping kind." All the guys were cracking up big time, and thought it was the biggest joke ever. I didn’t hang around too long. It was no fun being straight while everyone else was totally out of it.
Still looking for a bit of excitement, I found myself at Wipeout, where I saw Ross and his girlfriend, so I had a few beers with them. I didn't get trashed, but I was well on the way. That became pretty obvious when I found myself momentarily sprawled on the lawn before I'd managed to reach my front door.
Despite my inebriated condition, I was still feeling pretty horny. Hell, I was always feeling pretty horny. So, once into bed, I somehow found sufficient energy to fuck the hell outa my pillow. Straight after shooting my load, I fell asleep -- or passed out -- I wasn't sure which. Then it was the middle of the night when I woke, still in my pillow-fucking position, and freezing my butt off. I made a mental note: Put pillow case and sheets through the wash in the morning. Little did I realize then that I'd have an audience. Wingnut.
Anyway, that night my folks took me out to dinner 'cause they'd planned a mask party to celebrate my eighteenth birthday the following night, Saturday, July 1. We went to The Galley, a beachfront restaurant with a nautical theme… lots of brass fittings, heavy timber beams, ship memorabilia, and that kinda thing. Totally cool. My dad bought me a beer, while he and mom chose a bottle of chilled rose.
Well, I'd been given birthday cards before, but never inside a steak! I was just about to cut a piece when I noticed something weird inside. After investigating, I discovered a card. It was from my folks. Inside was something I'd never expected in a million years.
"200 bucks! [Safrican rand] I don't believe it! Hey, you can't afford this! Dad? Mom?"
"It's for you to spend on yourself, son… on whatever you want," mom said, with watery eyes.
I'd never seen so much money all at once before, and just kept staring at it. Then mom got all damn soppy, and said that she could still remember changing my diapers like it was yesterday. Dad agreed, and said there was no way he was gonna forget that stink in a hurry. That cracked us all up.
It was actually so fucking awesome sitting there with my folks, and chatting about all kinds of things. We'd always been a close family, but that night was different somehow. I was one day away from legally being an adult… a teen, but also a young man. Mom and dad had always looked the same to me. I wasn't able to detect any changes. But to them, I'd gone through many stages, each one dramatically different to the next. From diapers to my first day at school. From primary school to high school. From a kid who could hardly keep his balance on a surfboard, to a guy who could ride the thing like it was a part of him. From a boy whose life revolved around his best friend Paul, to a teen with many friends, including a girlfriend.
By the end of the night, I'd had more beers than I needed, and my head was more than spinning. But I behaved. Hey, didn't I always? Yeah, right.
When we got home, mom made three Irish coffees.
"Whoa! I'm feeling a bit trashed, mom. But thanks for an awesome night. And you too, dad. It was totally wicked. And I'm glad it was just the three of us. It was just so damn special, I can't tell you. But, hey, I've gotta turn in. I'm totalled."
I hugged and kissed them both, thanked them again, then hit the sack. At the stroke of midnight, I was woken by a loud knocking on my bedroom window. What the fuck!!?? I rolled off the bed, and investigated.
"Do you know what fucking time it is?" I demanded after I'd recognized Wingnut standing outside in the dark.
"It's midnight!"
"So?"
"So here," he grinned, thrusting something at me. "Happy birthday, Kyle."
I took the handwritten card, and read it. "To my big brother, Kyle. Stay around forever. Love -- your little brother, Wingnut." But before I could comment, the grommet thrusted a small package at me.
"And here."
I unwrapped it, and saw a pair of Billabong socks, and a new surfboard leash. "That is awesome, buddy." My reaction had obviously pleased him 'cause he was beaming from ear to ear.
"Like it?"
"Love it. Can I give you a hug?" He raised his arms as I leaned outa the window, then squeezed the hell outa my little bro for being… well, for just being himself. "Do your folks know you're out?"
"Nope. I just snuck out quickly. I'm going to bed now."
"That is so damn awesome."
"What?"
"That you woke up to wish me happy birthday. You're the first one on my birthday. Thanks."
"It's a pleasure. Anyway, if you were really my bro, I wouldn't have to sneak out in the cold. I would just walk down the hall to your room."
"Night, buddy."
"You gonna jack now?"
"I'm bushed."
"I'm gonna jack now. I'm gonna pretend that it's you jacking me on your birthday."
"Night, Wingnut," I laughed.
"See ya, Kyle," the beaming face said before disappearing into the night.
After returning to my bed, I'd changed my mind about jacking. Seeing the little guy, and realizing just how fucking sweet he was, kinda put me in the mood… as well as the thought of him fisting his woody in his room. But, as I stroked my throbber, an army of faces and bods invaded my mind. They came from everywhere. Wingnut, Mark, Steve, Steph, Paul, my cousin Chris, Nick… it was weird… a kaleidoscope of sucking, fucking, jacking, kissing, pecs, boners, hands, lips, tongues, buns, explosions of boy juice, and whatever. Rad!
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Kyle, happy birthday to you!"
I opened my eyes, and saw mom and dad standing at my bedside, holding a stack of pressies. Within a flash, I'd pulled on a pair of boxers, and was eagerly opening their gifts. Woohoo! A new pair of satin boxers, a new Billabong white, button-up shirt with olive-green leaves all over it, a pair of gray denim cargoes, plus the 200 bucks from the previous night! Awesome!
That was followed by a HUGE breakfast, even though I was still stuffed with the steak from the meal at The Galley restaurant.
After breakfast, I logged onto the net, and checked my email. There was a stack from all over the place, but I was disappointed to find nothing from my friend Paul in England. We'd been closer than bros since kindergarten, and I was wanting to read what kinda cocky comment he was gonna make about me getting old. Still, it was early in the UK when I'd logged on, so maybe he hadn't written yet.
While I was on line, I checked out Mr B's site, and saw his dedication to my birthday, and the awesome pic. So I wrote and thanked him. I was still pissed off about not getting a message from Paul, though.
Within minutes of logging off, the phone started ringing. First it was Steph, then Mark, then Steve. Even Carol phoned! With all their birthday wishes, I felt like the most important person in the world… and just so damn lucky to have so many wicked friends.
Wingnut arrived early, and joined me and my dad as we helped mom get the house ready for the mask party that night. She wanted the place spic and span. Typical female.
Once the house had been cleaned and tidied to mom's satisfaction, Wingnut and I went to the mall with dad to pick up the beer for the party. My grommet buddy waited until we were alone before popping the inevitable question.
"Hey! Can I have a beer tonight?"
"Not in front of my folks, though. OK?"
"Cool."
The rest of the day absolutely flew. It was 8pm before I knew it, and everybody started to rock up. It was totally awesome to see them all there. There had been times during the week when I'd wondered if the party would be a success… or if anybody would turn up!
Steph and I had had our ups and downs, but she left no doubt in my mind about her feelings for me when she gave me a silver chain with a heart attached. On it was engraved our names. Steve gave me a card with some cash inside. Actually, I got cash from most people. They figured it was more sensible to gimme cash so that I could get whatever I wanted for myself. But Mark had already anticipated what I wanted. He gave me a totally rad pair of satin boxer shorts, which looked a bit like sleeper shorts. "You can practice in your dreams," he smiled, and totally cracked me up.
The party was a huge fucking hit… everybody was totally raving out, and having the absolute best time. And for me, it was just so damn cool to see all my friends there to celebrate my big day. Well, almost all. There was one missing. Paul. And he still hadn't sent me an email. The rest of the guys were all wearing masks, of course, but I figured I knew who most of them were, although I wasn't sure. I had to rely on checking out their cute butts. Meantime, my folks kept bringing out the snacks, and the beers were fucking flying.
Most of the masks were full-head masks made of rubber, so the guys must've been sweating like crazy under those things. I was wearing a Halloween-type, hockey mask. It was impossible to pick Mark. The only reason I eventually found out what mask he was hiding behind was 'cause Carol told me. Steve was recognizable 'cause of his height and build. At least, that's what I thought. Wingnut was easy to pick 'cause he was wearing a troll mask, an evil goblin type thingy. Mark was wearing the mask of an old man, with wrinkly skin, and droopy eyes with really heavy bags underneath. Totally kewl! I figured he might've been impersonating Mr B.
One mask that I thought was kinda odd, though, was a Margaret Thatcher mask, a former Prime Minister of England. It had to be Ross, one of my buds from the swim team, 'cause the build of the dude's bod looked pretty much like Ross's, and I'd seen it often enough in the pool, or in the showers.
At 11pm, it was time for everybody to remove their masks, one at a time. And I had to guess who was under each mask before it was removed. If I guessed wrong, I had to take a swig of beer.Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved. mrbstories
