My grommet buddy Tim and I were becoming pretty good friends. He was one of the better surfers, and at least he had a few brains. He also looked up to me, kinda like how I looked up to Kyle, so that was way neat. It made a cool change from always being the little guy.
South Africa
Part 43
"Hey, mom, Tim and I are going to the mall for some pizza. Is that OK?"
"You'll spend all your allowance."
"No I won't. We'll share a large one. And Tim doesn't eat all that much, so I can have a bit of his."
"Don't be late."
Tim didn't really believe that I hung with the big guys. "Why would they let you hang with them? Older dudes are always telling us grommets to fuck off." He pulled a section of Hawaiin with extra ham and pineapple apart, and shovelled it into his gaping mouth.
Then I had to shuffle my half-chewed pizza over to one cheek, and repeat my answer 'cause it came out all garbled the first time. "They don't tell me to fuck off. They think I'm cool."
It wasn't easy to have a convo while we were eating pizza. There were long pauses between sentences while we chewed and swallowed. "Do they talk about big guy stuff while you're around?"
I nodded my reply, and kept eating.
"Sex and stuff?"
I nodded again.
"You're fulla shit, Wingnut."
"Who's fulla shit?" I recognized Kyle's voice, and looked up to see my bud's grinning face underneath his mop of black, spiky hair. "Hiya, Tim. You guys mind if we join you?"
Whoa! That was sooooo damn cool! Fulla shit, huh? Tim had to eat his fucking words. Anyway, Kyle introduced Tim to Steph, Steve and his girl, and they took their places at our table.
Most of the convo centered around the rugger next Sunday, and who was gonna win the big match. The whole town had a major dose of footy fever, and there wouldn't have been a single dude who wasn't gonna watch the game on TV.
"Hey, Wingnut," Kyle asked, "you gonna join us at my place on Sunday?"
"Cool! Hey, is it OK if Tim comes?"
"You guys don't have to invite me," the grommet said, almost apologetically.
"Hey, Tim," Kyle grinned, "if you're a friend of Wingnut's, you're a friend of ours. We'll expect to see you there. OK?"
On Saturday morning, I helped Kyle with his chores. I was hoping I could sleep over, but he'd already made arrangements to sleep over at Mark's.
"Are Steph and Carol gonna be there?"
"We're gonna party in town first, but they won't be sleeping over."
"Just you and Mark?"
"Yeppo."
"He's cool. I really like Mark a bunch. Sometimes he's a bit hard to figure, though."
"He's got his probs, but he's chilled a lot since I met him."
"You jack each other?"
"He asked the same question about you, once, and I told him no."
"Why?"
"'Cause it's none of his fucking biz, just like his is none of yours."
"Anyway, he doesn't look the type. He's kinda scary sometimes."
"You don't seem to be scared of him."
"That's 'cause I know how to make him laugh, and when a guy's laughing, he doesn't get aggro. Pretty smart, huh?"
Kyle had a bunch of study to do, but we managed to catch a few waves later in the afternoon -- just the two of us. Tim must've gone somewhere with his folks, 'cause he wasn't at the beach.
"Hey, mom, can I ask Tim to sleep over? Kyle's going out."
"I'm sure Tim would be delighted to know that you consider him second prize. Phone him and let me talk to his mother."
When I answered the door, my bud was standing there with his hair combed. I'd never seen it so fucking tidy before. He was wearing blue jeans, a short-sleeved, blue shirt, and black joggers. "I brought some stuff."
I glanced at the rucksack laying at his feet. "Hey, it's overnight, dude, not for the whole damn week." Tim was the same age as I was -- twelve -- but not as tall or as built. He was pretty fit, though, and an above average surfer. His coloring was about the same as mine -- black hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin.
"Where am I gonna sleep?" he asked as we entered my room.
"It's a trundle bed. There's another mattress underneath. You just pull it out."
"Cool. For a minute, I thought…"
"Lemme show you where the bathroom is."
Dinner wasn't anything special. Bangers and mash. Mom wasn't the type to put on a show. She said if people wanted to come to our house, they could share what we normally had. Anyway, mom could make bangers and mash like nobody I knew, and gravy to fucking die for. It was one of my fav meals. Dessert was home-made ice cream and fruit salad.
After watching a bit of TV with my folks, Tim and I went to my room to talk about guy stuff, which was impossible with mom and dad around. There was just sooooo much they didn't understand about kids. It was like they'd been born adults.
"Hey! That's my bag, Wingnut! You shouldn't be looking in there!"
"I'm curious. Toothbrush, toothpaste -- hey, we got toothpaste already, what kinda house do you think I live in? -- Whoa! PJs! You serious? You wear these to bed?"
"Don't you?"
"Used to. I sleep nude now. Kyle does, too."
"How do you know?"
"I sleep over lots."
"You see him naked?"
"Hey, it's no biggie, dude. We skinny dip in his pool as well."
"Have you seen it up close?"
"What?"
"His dick."
"Stacks of times. It's fucking huge, even when it's not hard."
"Does he know you're looking?"
Hello? Where the fuck was I gonna go from there? "Lemme put it this way, he's not shy. OK? And either am I. We've compared sizes. You wanna see mine?"
"Not really."
I figured I'd better give that topic of convo a rest for a while. I had a feeling that Tim wasn't ready for the kinda shit that Kyle and I did, so we talked about the rugger again, and surfing, and girls.
"Hey, those chicks you're always talking to at the beach. You ever done anything with them?"
"I could've if I'd wanted to."
"So why haven't you?"
"'Cause they'd get jealous."
"You're fulla shit, Wingnut."
"Lemme tell you something, dude, I rubbed my cock up against that little blondie one day and she fucking freaked big time."
"Yeah, sure, Wingnut. Tell me another one."
"OK, dude." I stood and dropped my boardies. "Check this out." Tim's eyes were riveted to my semi, which caused it to grow until I had a full-on, five inch boner.
"Fuck! And you've got pubes!"
"Over a dozen, man. You wanna show me yours?"
"No."
"Guys do it all the time. They even jack each other."
"Jeez, you're so fulla shit, man. How do you know?"
"I've heard about it."
"That's all fucking crap, Wingnut. Only gays do that kinda shit."
"I've heard that straight guys do, too."
"Yeah, right. Anyway, can we change the fucking subject? This is getting kinda weird."
"You still gonna sleep in your PJs?"
"You really think PJs are uncool?"
"Kyle sleeps nude, Steve sleeps nude, I sleep nude."
"Well…" He stared at the floor. "I dunno."
I sensed that something was bothering Tim, and it wasn't just to do with wearing or not wearing PJs. "Hey, you wanna talk? I talk about stuff with Kyle and it helps big time. That's what buds are for."
"What kinda stuff?"
"Hey, you name it! I ask him what it's like when a girl blows him. He tells me everything. And how's this? Steph was out in the back line the other day and she asked me if I wanted a blow job."
"So what did you say?"
"I didn't, man. I went as red as a beet."
"You? Embarrassed? Yeah, right."
"Hey, I get embarrassed too, y'know. Is that your prob? You think I'm some kinda fearless fucking womaniser or whatever? Hey, man, it's all fucking show."
"Yeah, well, you've got plenty to show. I've seen you pulling your boardies down low on your hips and shit like that."
"OK, I get it. You've got a small dick. Is that it?"
"Not exactly. It's just different."
Oops! Unfamiliar territory ahead. Was he deformed or something? What the fuck would I say if he were? Don't worry about it? It's cool? I wasn't prepared for what might eventuate. "Hey, let's just drop the whole convo. OK? You can sleep in your PJs if you wanna. No biggie."
The following afternoon at Kyle's house, Tim was blown away something wicked. Apart from Kyle, Steve and Mark were there, and even Kyle's dad joined in. We were all going ballistic watching the footy, while Kyle's mom made us a bunch of food. It was a totally cool afternoon, and proved beyond any doubt to Tim that I really did hang with the guys. Not only that, but Kyle's dad and I were constantly locked in battle, arguing about the rugger. The only prob with that was that he'd gimme a trick question every now and then, and I'd be lost for words. That was kinda embarrassing 'cause everybody laughed, but it was all in good fun. Kyle's dad would mess up my hair when I was speechless. "C'mon, Wingnut, you can do better than that!"
"Hey, you really do hang with the big guys," Tim smiled as he stood at the front door, hair combed and rucksack slung over his shoulders.
"Listen, bud, if you ever need somebody to talk to, I'm here. OK? Kyle does it for me, so I figure I can do it for you."
"Cool. Thanks. Laters!"Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved. mrbstories
