Mom and dad couldn't believe it when I rushed inside, dressed in my wettie. There was an instant barrage of questions like 'where did you get it' and 'how much did it cost' and 'are you sure Kyle and Steve wanted you to have it', etc, etc. There were way too many questions to answer so I just nodded until the excitement had died down. Then I got asked if I was gonna wear the damn wettie to bed. "Jeez, mom! I just wanna wear it for a while 'cause I'm excited."
South Africa
Part 29
"Does that include at the dinner table?"
"Can I, mom? Please?" Dad was smiling big time, so I figured mom would relent. Meantime, I noticed through the window that Mark was arriving at Kyle's house. He was dressed in beige chinos which looked like they were carrying pretty hefty baggage, plus a white t hanging loose over the top of his pants. He looked pretty damn cool, and I wondered if his dick was bigger than Kyle's.
"Dad? Can I ask you a question?"
"Sure, son. Go ahead."
"Well, a lotta the guys at school talk about size… y'know… penis size."
"And?"
"Well, does it matter?"
"In your case, that wetsuit doesn't hide much."
"That wasn't my question."
"Maybe you should ask your mother."
"What for? She'd only say that size didn't matter. That's the kinda answer mom's give."
"Maybe she's right."
"So how come all the guys talk about it?"
"Listen, son. Size isn't important. The penis was designed to do a job, and a small penis can do it just as well as a large penis. By the way, is that what the kids at school call it?"
"No, they call it all kinds of stuff, like dick or cock."
"So why are you calling it a penis?"
"'Cause you're my dad, and I didn't wanna sound rude."
"I'm also a guy. I don't call it a penis either. Anyway, the point is, a dick was designed by nature to be a practical instrument of procreation, not a thing to be admired or paraded around like some trophy."
"Girl's tits are a practical instrument for feeding babies, so how come girls parade their tits?"
"Don't you have homework to do?"
"It's done already."
"Look, son," he said with a hint of exasperation in his voice, "I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and I guess some people like to show off their natural gifts, but my point is this: the whole person shouldn't be judged by a particular part of their anatomy. Sure, it's fine to have a cute nose or a fine physique or whatever, but there's a lot more to a person than that."
"But it's cool to look cool!"
"Of course it is. But what's cool? Cool to you could be something quite different to me."
"You don't think I look cool?"
"Of course, I do," he laughed. "You're the epitome of cool, and I'm very proud of you. Hey, I guess there's no rush to grow up. If you're happy, that's the main thing. There's plenty of time for you to…"
"To what?" I asked as he searched for a word.
"To grow -- to discover new values and attitudes -- to change your mind about things. Maybe 'change' is the wrong word. Maybe 'alter' is more appropriate. In any case, people's opinions and attitudes don't stay the same throughout life. At least, they shouldn't. Living is learning, and learning provides new insights."
"But I'm happy being me, dad. I don't wanna change."
"Change doesn't necessarily mean abandoning the things that make you who you are today, son. Change, if that's the right word, simply means that you become a better person with each new experience, provided, of course, that you're willing to analyze it and learn from it."
"You mean like meeting Kyle and learning how to surf?"
"Yeah, that's a pretty good example."
I guessed dad was right. I'd changed a lot since meeting Kyle and Steve, and learning how to ride a board. And having those guys give me a wicked wettie was something I'd never expected. Even if I wasn't a better person just yet, I sure felt like it. Wearing my new wettie made me feel ten feet tall.
Well, when it was time for bed, I figured I'd better take off the wettie. Hey, a guy who'd just turned twelve had certain responsibilities -- like to behave with a bit of maturity. But I couldn't stop thinking about how fucking awesome it was to have it. A real wettie! My own! Woohoo!
It was probably about 11pm when I snuck outa the house and hopped the fence. I tapped on Kyle's window. "Wingnut? You're supposed to be in bed asleep! It's like 11pm!"
"I know. My folks don't know 'cause I got outa my window. I had to… I dunno… it's just… I wanted to say thanks again. Are you guys going surfing tomorrow?"
"Yep. We wanna see the girls go weird when they see you strutting in that wettie."
"My mom phoned."
"Yeah, I know. She was freaking big time 'cause she thought the wettie was expensive. I thought my folks were gonna go ballistic, too."
"Did they?"
"No. Actually my dad spoke to me later about it. He asked if he could give me a hug. I said sure dad, you know you can -- anytime. Then I asked him why, and he said that he thought I was a pretty special person, and that he and mom were pretty damn lucky. Cool huh? Anyway, I said that I was the lucky one, 'cause to have such a good looking dad was pretty cool. Then we wrestled for a bit."
"Cool! I gotta jet. See ya, Kyle. You and Steve are awesome buddies. Thanks."
"See ya, buddy -- and happy birthday."
The next day, I figured I'd give Kyle a surprise. When he got home from school, I saw him check the backyard, study the lawn and scratch his head. He was mystified. When he went back inside, I hopped the fence and charged into the kitchen. "Hey, Kyle, you're not suppose to drink straight outa the juice bottle! You're mom will kill you!"
"She's not around."
"Anyway, I see you're making some toast with peanut butter and cheese. Are you gonna go for a wave later?"
"Mmm, yeah, I reckon. I've just gotta do a few chores, then phone Steve."
"I've already picked up the dog shit."
Kyle had just taken a mouthful of juice which he sprayed in all directions as he cracked up something wicked. Hey! What the fuck had I said?
"When?" he asked, finally. "I thought my dog must've been constipated or something."
"As soon as I came home from school. Otherwise you take too damn long. Anyway, I'd probably end up picking it up, so I just did it."
"That's cool. You wanna phone Steve, too?"
"Me? OK." Wow! That was cool! I'd never phoned Steve before. When he answered, I explained that I was calling from Kyle's house, and asked if he wanted to catch a wave with us.
It was just so fucking awesome to be surfing for the first time in my new wettie. And Steph was there! Woohoo! I felt so damn proud! One time, when we were sitting on our boards waiting for a wave, Kyle shouted that I looked like one of those super hero dudes with a skin-fitting costume. But what I hadn't figured on was Steph's comment. It made me blush big fucking time. I must've looked redder than a beet. "Wingnut," she smiled, "you're gonna have to wear Speedos under that thing. Actually, it looks kinda cute. Then again, maybe not." So which one did she mean? Cute? Or maybe not? Damn! How was a guy supposed to figure what was going on inside a girl's head?
After we'd done surfing, we all went back to Kyle's house to rap a little and listen to some music. But it didn't seem the right time or place to ask Steph what she'd actually meant. Maybe it was better not to know. Maybe I could ask Kyle later. Maybe he understood girls. Maybe, maybe, maybe.
"Dad?"
My father lowered his newspaper and peered over the top of his reading glasses. "What now?"
"Did you understand girls when you were a teen?"
"Nope, and I still don't." Well, that was the end of that. He resumed reading his newspaper as if I'd suddenly become invisible.
The next day, when the guys and I had returned to Kyle's house after surfing, I followed them to the shower to wash the salt water off my wettie. Steph wasn't there 'cause she had homework to do. "Hey," Kyle said, "why can't you shower at your place? It's right next door."
"'Cause I wanna shower here with you guys. It's alright, isn't it?"
"Lighten up, Wingnut, I was only joking."
Well, that was a relief. Whew! For a moment there, I thought I wasn't welcome. Anyway, we all crowded into the stall and peeled off our skin-tight wetties. I was the only one who wasn't wearing Speedos underneath, and Kyle wanted to know why. "You'll get crotch rust in your wettie if you don't wear Speedos." Well, I told him I'd get around to it, but I neglected to tell him that I liked the way my dick showed when I wasn't wearing anything underneath. The rubber wettie kinda clung to my woody and revealed the shape of my knob, which I thought was kinda cool.
The guys wore their Speedos while we showered, so I was the only one who was naked. It didn't worry me, though. Hey, if they had a problem, it was their problem. "So how come you guys aren't naked?"
"Hey, Wingnut, we don't go around in the buff all the time, y'know."
"Is it just 'cause I'm here?"
"I'll lend you a pair of my shorts," Kyle answered, while ignoring my question. Well, I dunno why he bothered 'cause, in the kitchen, while he was making some toasted sarmies for us all, his shorts spent most of their time around my ankles. "Are you guys gonna go clubbing tomorrow night?" I asked, pulling up his shorts for the millionth fucking time.
"Yep."
"With girls?"
"Yep."
"So I guess that means I can't sleep over, huh?"
"I guess not, Wingnut. I'm gonna be home late. Maybe you can sleep over another night."
"K, I'd better be getting home. Gotta lotta homework. See ya!"
Shit! I didn't know what was worse -- not being able to go clubbing with the guys, or not being able to sleep over. Well, I wasn't the type of dude to give up so easily. "Mom? Can I sleep over at Kyle's tomorrow night?"
"If it's OK with his folks."
"Can I phone them to check?"
"Don't be long -- you have homework to do."
Well, Kyle's folks said it was cool, and that I didn't even need to ask in the first place. They said I was welcome anytime. Woohoo! Kyle was gonna get a big surprise when he got home from clubbing on Friday night!Copyright © 1999 All rights reserved. mrbstories
