South Africa
Part 26

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The sight of my grinning bud standing at the open door was totally cool. Even though he was still outside, he'd already made a huge difference to the vibes, as if he'd brought some of his own house's vibes along with him. "Hey, Kyle, c'mon in."

I led him through to the living room where I showed him a couple of vids that I'd organized. "Got some beer, too. It's in the fridge." I figured a few beers would give me the courage to ask Kyle for a body rub. I was still uneasy about that kinda thing -- the closeness and touching. On the other hand, I wanted to try it. Curiosity had gotten the better of me.

Kyle was the easiest dude in the world to talk to, apart from his dad who was also cool. Even during the vids we chatted about all kinds of shit, but the main convo was to come later. We talked about Carol and Steph, what we could expect during the swim season, and what plans we had for summer vac. But an opportunity to introduce the subject of body rubs just didn't arrive -- it seemed inappropriate. And if I'd mentioned it in the middle of all the other shit, I was sure that Kyle would've concluded that I was a bit too eager.

"We go on a hiking/camping trip every year for about ten days. It fucking rocks big time."

"Ten days with a bunch of guys?"

"You wanna come?"

"Not sure. Maybe. Anyway, it's 1:30 am, man, and I'm gonna catch a shower." The effect of the beer became immediately apparent as I stood. "Whoa! I'm feeling a bit wobbly."

As the hot water splashed over my face and bod, I began to feel better. I soaped my chest, arms and legs, and imagined Kyle's hands doing it for me. "Hell," I thought, "he was the one who offered to rub me. It's not like it was my idea." Then I thought about the bottle of scented oil. Why would I have a bottle of scented oil in my room? He was bound to wonder about that. "Yeah, Kyle, I bought it today, specially for tonight." Ah! I'd tell him that Carol uses it when she massages me. Yeah, that would work.

I was laying on the bed, dressed only in my boxers, while I waited for Kyle to finish his shower. Knowing him, he'd most likely walk through the door starkers, sporting a huge boner. What the fuck would I say if that happened? "Hey, Kyle, you wanna rub me down while you've got a hardon?" Yeah, right. He'd think it was an invitation to something else. I was still wrestling with the ifs, buts and maybes when he appeared at the doorway. It was a relief to see that he was wearing his boxers, and that there was no sign of a telltale bulge in the toy department.

It was now or never. "OK, now you can give me that body rub you promised."

"I thought you'd forgotten," he grinned, and was obviously amped. "You got some oil or something?"

"It's on the dresser." Thank Christ he didn't quiz me about it as he sat on the side of the bed, and poured a little into the palm of his hand.

I rolled over onto my stomach and rested my chin on my crossed hands. What happened next was totally fucking awesome. There was an instant and special magic in his fingers as they rubbed my shoulders and neck. "You must've done this before. Who else do you massage?"

"Nobody. Maybe it's a natural talent."

"Feels wicked."

"So do your muscles. They're helluva toned. I can trace every one of them."

Well, that wasn't suprising considering how often I worked out. What concerned me more was his enthusiasm for my bod. A regular masseur wouldn't have made those kinda comments.

After he'd worked his way down to my hips, my cock was rock hard. There was just no way to stop the damn thing -- and I wondered if he had a boner, too. Probably. Then, as he rubbed my upper legs, a part of me was screaming for him to go that little bit further, while another part of me was hoping that he wouldn't. As it was, his hands travelled to within just inches of the bottom of my ass cheeks.

"OK, you can roll over now."

Roll over? And see that I had a roaring boner? There was bound to be a wet spot on my boxers caused by pre-cum. I had two choices. Stay where I was so that he would suspect that I was embarrassed, or pretend to be like him and not give a shit. I chose the latter. Sure enough, his eyes immediately zeroed in on my crotch. But it was cool. His boxers were tenting big time, too.

Then the most remarkable thing happened. I was totally unprepared, even stunned, as he placed his hand on my cock which bounced at his touch. There was something incredibly different about the sensations that were flooding throughout my body. Carol had touched my cock a million times -- even sucked it heaps of times. But when Kyle touched it? Whoa! It was totally electric! But, no sooner had he placed his hand over my cock, than he took it away. It had been there for maybe a second or two, but in that short period of time, a helluva lot had been revealed to me … about his touch, and how it affected me.

Kyle then moved to my chest and abs. It felt weird to be having my pecs massaged in a way that was similar to the way I played with Carol's tits. And all the while, Kyle's eyes were focused on my body like he was admiring everything his fingers lovingly explored. Was my bod that good? According to him it was. So it wasn't just my bod that was being massaged -- it was also my ego. I felt like a god.

When he'd arrived at my abs, he became even more fascinated. "How come they're so fucking flat?" he would've been thinking to himself. "And how come mine aren't like that?" Well, I figured we were even. He had personality to burn, and there was no way I could compete with that.

While he was rubbing my legs, he would sometimes rub a little higher up my thighs than he needed to -- as though he was testing my reaction. Well, he got it. Even within the confines of my boxers, it was obvious that my boner would flinch each time his hands came close to it. Yeah, I was as horny as fucking hell, but the pleasure of his touch was just too awesome to spoil with a remark that might cause him to stop.

Eventually, though, he screwed the cap onto the bottle of scented oil and placed it back on the dresser.

"Fuck, Kyle! That was awesome! For a mo there, I thought you were gonna jack me off, and I was getting ready to break your nose for you. Now I'm gonna sleep like a fucking baby." Well, at least I'd preserved my reputation as a totally 100% macho dude. It was one thing to get a boner, but it was quite another to comment on it. Whatever feelings I'd had about the closeness and the touching, I was determined to keep to myself. Then the two of us climbed under the covers and slept head to toe -- with our boxers on.

Next morning, I was in high spirits as I recollected the events of the previous night -- the companionship, the beers, the convo, the massage. Nothing like that had ever happened to me before, especially not at my house. Sure, I'd spent nights at Carol's place, but a girl wasn't the same as a bud. There were things that guys talked about that would make a girl's eyes glaze over. Being close to a guy -- a guy like Kyle -- was pretty damn special, and that night we'd been closer than we'd ever been before.

"Hey," I said as Kyle wandered into my room after his shower, still towelling his hair, "is it OK if I walk you home?"

"Sure! My folks think you're way cool. You know that already."

When we arrived at Kyle's house, Wingnut was in the living room with Kyle's dad. They were arguing about the rugger on TV, a situation which I found to be kinda weird. My experience with adult males, apart from Kyle's dad, sucked big time. Kyle's dad was the only adult male I'd met who treated younger people as an equal -- maybe not all the time, 'cause he was a dad, but most of the time. He had respect for younger people, which had obviously helped to shape Kyle's character.

After breakfast and lunch at Kyle's, I spent the remainder of Sunday with Carol. "So you watched vids, drank beer and talked?"

"Yeah. It was way cool."

"You're acting like it was some kinda special occasion."

"It was. I've never had a bud like Kyle before."

"So you didn't fight? Or get aggro? Or moody?"

"Nope."

"Amazing."

At first recess on Monday, Kyle and I were together again in the quad. It seemed as though I was spending half my life with the dude. "Hey, tell your folks thanks for yesterday. I had a really good time."

"That's cool. So did I."

"Do your dad and that lighty always fight like that?"

"Nah," Kyle laughed, "they stuff around with each other. My dad's impressed by the way Wingnut comes back for more, and hands it out."

"Fuck! My dad would've clouted me big time if I'd spoken to him like that."

"Yeah, well, my dad can lose it sometimes, but not for something like rugger on TV."

"I thought Saturday night was pretty cool as well."

"Yeah, I had a pretty good time."

Pretty good time? What the fuck? The cheeky asshole was teasing me again. "So you were impressed?"

"By?"

By? What was he on? "My boner! I wasn't so pissed that I didn't feel you touch it."

"Just wanted to feel if it was up to standard, and what Carol was getting so much of."

"And? Did it measure up?"

Kyle's hazel eyes studied mine for a moment. "This doesn't sound like you talking."

"Why?"

"Fuck, Mark, you're like always so fucking shy about your dick. You even sleep with boxers on."

"I guess it's 'cause you don't give a fuck. It's rubbing off. Anyway, you slept with boxers on as well."

"Hey! If you'd stripped, I would have as well. Believe me, I fucking hate sleeping with anything on -- ask my mom. She gets pretty damn redfaced some mornings when I've kicked the covers off."

I totally cracked when I pictured Kyle's mom walking into his bedroom, and copping an eyeful of his piss boner.

"And," he continued, "if you sleep over at my place, no boxers allowed."

"So, you never answered me. Did it measure up?"

"Pretty much. That is some damn weapon."

I couldn't help feeling pretty chuffed about Kyle's remark. He was no slouch in the toy department either. "Can I ask you something serious? And you don't have to answer, 'cause it might be outa line."

"Shoot."

"You ever jack anyone else off?" Damn! How the hell had that slipped outa my mouth? I focused my gaze on the ground. "Fuck! You don't need to answer that."

"Yeah, I have. It's no biggie. Had someone jack me as well." His response was just as casual as you like.

"Me, too," I said as I continued to gaze at the ground.

"What?" Kyle was genuinely surprised. "You're fucking having me on!"

I took my eyes off the ground and faced my astonished friend. "We were lighties -- kids. Me and my bud. We just fuckingwell did it."

"Just once?"

"A few times. Fuck, it was the first sex I'd had, besides jacking."

Kyle's expression changed from shock to concern. "And you've been thinking how weird you are. Right?"

"Yeah, of course. How many fucking guys do that kinda stuff?"

"Stacks! Believe me! Fucking stacks!"

"Maybe."

"No fucking maybes."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."

"Yeah, right, Kyle." Then the bell rang, and it was time for the next class. The convo didn't go any further, but I was suspicious of Kyle's motive. Was he just trying to make me feel better about myself? And why the fuck had I just told him my deepest, darkest secret? I'd always harbored a deep resentment of the fact that my childhood bud and I had jacked each other off. It seemed OK at the time, but, as I grew older, my attitude changed. I'd see gay guys on TV or in real life, and I didn't wanna be anything like them. I wanted to be tough and macho. I was a fag hater. But, since meeting Kyle, I was being torn between the same kinda feelings I'd had for my childhood bud, and my current image. Kyle was resurrecting feelings within me that I'd successfully repressed for years. They were strong feelings -- stronger than I was. I wanted to run. I also wanted to stay. What the fuck was happening to me?

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