"Mom? What's 'precocious' mean?"
South Africa
Part 35
"I've told you before, the best way to learn the meaning of a new word is to look it up yourself."
"When I'm a parent, that's what I'm gonna tell my kids. Go look it up. Then I won't have to know very much."
"I'd say that's precocious," she smiled. "Anyway, why the sudden interest in the word?"
"One of the teachers called me precocious -- Mr Morgan, the dude with the beard."
"Did he tell you what he meant by it?"
"Nope. He told me to go look it up." So, I did. I went to the bookshelf in the den and was surprised by what I saw. Then I returned to the kitchen. "K, mom, now I know what precocious means."
"What does it mean?"
"Jeez, mom! You said…"
"Well, I can't be cooking dinner and looking up dictionaries all at once! So, what does it mean?"
"You tell me what you think it means, first."
"Well, I must admit, it's not a word I use every day, but I've heard it used to describe certain children -- like the daughters of women who push their children into acting or modeling or the stage."
"So it's like the kid's trying to be a kinda mini adult? A wannabe?"
"What's this all about?" dad asked as he entered the room.
"Precocious… what's it mean? And don't ask me to look it up, dad, 'cause I already have."
"I'll tell you what it means, son. It means that you're standing here annoying your mother when you should be doing your homework. Now, off to your room!"
The next afternoon after school, the surf was really cooking. Kyle, Steve, Steph and I were all out having a total rave, and I was pretty proud of some of my rides. Sure, I got dumped a few times when I was a bit too cocky, but so did everybody. It was obvious that I was beginning to become as one with my board -- it was like a part of me as I raced along the face of the rising wall of water, then flicked it over the crest like a pro. Woohoo!
"Hey, Kyle," I said as we entered his room, "what's precocious mean?"
"There's a dictionary on my bookshelf."
"I already looked it up at home."
"So why are you asking me?" He turned around so that I could unzip his wettie.
"I just wanna know what you think."
Kyle peeled the top of his shiny, black suit down to his waist to reveal his muscular back and torso. "You really wanna know what I think? Are you ready for this? I'll tell you what precocious means, buddy. It's like when you're out catching a wave and you keep swivelling your head like some sideshow clown to make sure we're all watching when you take off on a ride. It's like when you finish surfing and you pull the top of your wettie down and leave it dangling so you can show off your chest and abs. It's like when you pull the lower half of your wettie down so that the top of your asscrack is showing. It's like you still don't wear Speedos under your wettie so that the shape of your dick shows. That's precocious, bro."
"OK, so is all that good or bad?"
"I guess it's cool," he laughed, "it's all part of being Wingnut."
"Well, I've seen how Steph looks at me when I'm showing off and she thinks it's cool."
"How do you know?"
"It's a guy thing. I just know. There's only one prob, though."
"What's that?"
"It's like I do all this macho stuff and I feel like I'm fucking ten feet tall, then I open my mouth and out comes a kid's voice -- like it hasn't broken yet. Squeak, squeak. It's fucking embarrassing."
"Like I said," he laughed, "it's all part of being Wingnut. Don't sweat it, OK? Anyway, you said you looked it up. What's it mean?"
"Precocious? It means early development or maturity, especially in mental aptitude. So I guess I don't have a precocious voice, dammit. Anyway, you once said that I looked more like fourteen than twelve."
By this time, Kyle was outa his wettie and standing there in his Speedos, bulge and all. "So what brought all this on?"
"Mr Morgan. He's a teacher at school. He's got this big moustache and a bushy beard. He said I was precocious. He doesn't look gay, though."
"How do you know he's gay?"
"Well, I'm not hundreds about it, but I've heard from other dudes that he is. But it's not like he hits on anybody or anything. He's cool."
The next afternoon, Steph came back to Kyle's house with us after another rad session in the surf. She wasn't like most girls -- she was more like a bud than a girl. Anyway, Kyle was asking all these questions about Mark and what he was like when she used to date him.
"Well, I liked him a helluva lot, but I couldn't handle his moods. From one day to the next, I didn't know what kinda mood he was gonna be in." Then she changed the subject. "Hey, you've got a really neat room."
Kyle always gave me the headphones and played music when he was talking privately with somebody, but I could hear enough convo and read enough body language to know what was going on. He forgot that I was precocious!
"You can shower here if you like, Steph."
"Thanks, Kyle, but I'd better jet. My folks are expecting me home."
"I'll walk you."
"You wanna walk me home, too, Wingnut?"
"Yeah!" Hey, she asked me! Woohoo! "That's if it's OK with Kyle."
"Sure, bro."
"Back in a sec! I'll change into my tracksuit pants!"
When I'd hopped the fence and returned, they both looked at my crotch. OK, so I wasn't wearing any briefs under my trackpants, and the shape of my cock was showing. "What are you guys looking at?"
"Nothing," they both laughed.
Well, the shape of my knob must've done something to Steph 'cause when we'd arrived at her front gate, she kissed me. Not one of those gooey, sloppy ones like you see in the movies, but just a little peck. Still, it was pretty neat, and it made me feel kinda important. For a grommet, I was making one helluva impact! Yes!
"So I guess you think that was precocious, too," I said as Kyle and I walked back to his house.
"You mean your track pants? And no briefs? Yeah, you're fucking outrageous."
"So is that good or bad? I got a kiss, didn't I?"
"Hey, listen up. It's not about good or bad. OK? It's about being Wingnut. And if we didn't like the way you are, we wouldn't hang with you."
"Hang with me? But I'm the one who hangs with you!"
"Same diff."
"No, it's not! I hang with you! Big guys don't hang with grommets! Well, not most grommets, anyway."
"You're not most grommets, Wingnut. You're precocious."
"And I've got a cool dick."
"Yeah, that as well."
When we got back to Kyle's room, we listened to the new Californication Chili Peppers CD that Kyle had borrowed from Steve. It was a totally fucking awesome CD, and my fav track was Scar Tissue. It rocked something wicked.
"Hey, mom, the surf was totally awesome today. You should have seen me out there. I was so damn amped! Hey, maybe you should come down to the beach one day and check me out. And bring dad. How come you guys haven't watched me surfing yet?"
"How come you haven't watched your father mowing the lawn?"
"Huh? Anyway, me and Kyle…"
"Kyle and I."
"Yeah… anyway, we were getting off big time on Chili Peppers."
"I hope you haven't spoiled your appetite, dear. Dinner's almost ready."
"Do you like Chili Peppers?"
"They give your father indigestion."
"Figures, I guess. He's not into modern stuff."
"There's nothing new about chili peppers, son -- they've been around forever."
Was that what they called the generation gap? Sometimes, it was as if my folks had lost the plot entirely. "Anyway, I'm gonna go wash up."
After dinner, I checked myself out in my bedroom mirror. What did I hope to see that I hadn't seen a thousand times already? I wasn't quite sure -- but I was constantly curious to know what other people noticed about me. I was wearing my trackpants, minus undies, of course, and I was assuming various poses while I tried to capture those moments when the shape of my dick was most obvious. I guessed I was lucky 'cause my dick was the type to stick out rather than droop, and it naturally caused the pants material to stretch and cling to my knob. Yeah, pretty damn cool.
So what was Steph thinking when she got an eyeful? I'd heard about girls giving guys blowjobs, and even Kyle said that he'd experienced them. Is that what Steph was thinking? Did she wanna blow me? Shit! What if she asked me? Like, for real! What would I do? Hey, it was cool to be cocky and goof off, but… how would I react? Well, one thing was for certain, I'd have to nod and not say anything 'cause she might suddenly realize that my voice hadn't broken.
"Say again, Wingnut?"
I shook my head and remained silent.
"I've just suddenly realized something."
"My voice, right? Damn!"
"I'm sorry, Wingnut. I'd love to blow you, honest. But I think we're gonna have to wait for a while."
Oh, well, I was off to a pretty good start, I guessed. My bod was pretty hunky and my dick was kinda cool for a grommet's. And some of the girls thought I was pretty good looking. And Mr Morgan thought I was precocious. So I was doing OK for a guy of twelve. Besides, Kyle liked to jack me off, and he wasn't the kinda dude to jack just anybody.
Actually, that got me to thinking -- Kyle had never asked me, I'd always been the one to ask him. Was he just doing me a fav? Hmmm. Nah. He said I had a cool dick. Maybe he just didn't wanna look like he was hitting on me or something, like Alan had that time. And my folks had already warned me about guys they called 'predators', but Kyle was no predator. He was my bud, and what we did was totally cool.
I locked my hands over my head and stared at my reflection. "I figure you're a pretty lucky dude, Wingnut. You've got a stack of friends who think you're cool, and you have a lotta fun hanging with them. Beats the fuck outa most dudes my age."
After I'd stripped, turned off the light and hit the hay, I thought about Kyle's hand on my woody. It was the coolest of all feelings, not just 'cause it rocked big time, but 'cause it was his hand. When I was with my big bro, it was like we were the only two dudes in the world -- our own, private world. And when I shot my load, it wasn't like I had to be embarrassed 'cause it was just so damn natural. Everything about being with Kyle was just so damn natural. Yeah, I was a pretty lucky grommet.Copyright © 1999 All rights reserved. mrbstories
