When I heard the doorbell, I freaked. This was crazy! I saw the guy every day in the gym as well as at lunch break. So what was the fucking story here? How come I was so damn nervous?
"Hi, Kyle. Glad you could make it, dude. This is my mom."
Well, mom was positively beaming as if I'd invited home some movie star. She was making such a damn fuss, it worried me that Kyle might think we never had any visitors -- which we didn't except for Carol sometimes, and mom's boyfriend whom I hated. I figured it was time to extract my guest from my mom's clutches.
"Wanna see my room, Kyle?"
"That'd be cool."
A guy's room was like an expression of his personality -- a place where he could do his own thing, decorate his walls and make some kinda statement about who he was. The fact that it was attached to the rest of the house was totally incidental.
"Wow, this is neat!" Kyle remarked enthusiastically as he entered, then walked over to the window which overlooked a park. "Makes me feel kinda privileged. I mean, I see you every day but this is kinda your own personal space."
"Thanks, man. I'm glad you like it." It felt totally cool to know that he was actually impressed. The tension from the back of my neck evaporated and I began to relax.
"Cool posters. You're into rock, I see. And who's this?"
"Some chick. It's a centerfold from a horny mag. It's my jacking poster."
"You jack off?"
"Like you don't?
"Yeah, I do. I just thought with all the girls you screw and all..."
"Hey, Kyle, I don't screw everything that moves. OK? But I do jack off almost every morning before I shower."
"Sometimes. But in the morning I have this total fucking piss cockstand, so I prefer to do it then. You?"
"Fucking hell, every damn night."
I couldn't believe this guy's honesty, or his willingness to admit to jacking off even when he didn't have a piss boner that was begging for it. He was about the most relaxed dude I'd ever met. "Hey," I said as I sat on the side of my bed, "you heard the lastest Nudies CD?"
"The Springbok Nude Girls? They're fucking awesome. You got it?"
"Yep." Damn! He even liked the same music as I did. And he sat on the bed next to me. This was totally cool! "Hey, you going to the Garbage and Placebo concert?"
"Nah, it's like too damn expensive."
"Fuck, man, that's too bad. You're gonna miss a rave."
"Yeah, I know. It'd be totally neat to go with you guys. Steve's going."
I placed the Nudies CD in the player and turned up the volume -- not enough to have mom banging on the fucking door, though. As the music filled the room, we talked about the band for a while before I stood to undress. This was no time to be in my school uniform.
I left it to Kyle to keep chatting while I got naked, and couldn't help noticing that his voice would trail off occasionally as I bared another patch of skin. I figured his concentration was continually lapsing at the sight of my bod -- and why wouldn't it? I was well aware of the fact that I had a hot bod with well-honed muscles, and I figured it was only natural for people to gawk at it. What puzzled me, though, was that Kyle had seen me plenty of times in the showers after gym, yet he still ogled my nakedness as if it were for the first time. Not that he made it obvious -- he was pretty cool about being discreet.
Rather than change into my jeans and t straight away, I took the time to hang my school uniform while I was completely nude just to give my bud a long, lingering look at my jewels. I had a bigger than average, cut cock that I was pretty proud of. The only thing I didn't have was much body hair -- just a patch of pubes -- nothing anywhere else except for my head, and even that was shaved. I also shaved my armpits 'cause of boxing.
"What were you saying about the band, Kyle?"
"Huh? The band? Oh, uh... dunno. I kinda lost the plot. What was the last thing I said?"
I had to smile to myself knowing that the sight of my thick, bouncing semi was scrambling Kyle's brain big time, but I didn't say anything. That would've only succeeded in embarrassing us both. The weird thing was that I wasn't in the habit of flaunting myself in front of other guys, such as in the showers after swim prac. For some reason, parading my dick in front of Kyle was cool fun. "So you and Steve are pretty good buddies?"
"Yeah, he's cool."
As I pulled my t over my head I thought about asking him why they were such good friends. Steve and I got along OK, too, but I didn't really understand friendship or how two guys could be that close. Anyway, I chose to drop the convo, then got into my boxers and jeans.
"I'm very impressed with Kyle," mom said after Kyle had split. "He seems such a nice, friendly boy."
"He's OK, I guess."
"Just OK? Is that why you tidied your room? As well as the rest of the house?" she smiled.
"Cool it, mom. He's just a guy." I hated it when mom seemed to know more about what was going on in my fucking brain than I did. "Actually, he's pretty cool," I shrugged. "He likes a lotta the same stuff I do."
The next morning I'd overslept and was late getting to the gym. Kyle was already there punching the shit outa the bag. "Sorry, dude. I got up late for some reason."
"Guess your piss cockstand let you down, huh? Maybe you need a rooster."
"Fuck off, smartass. Hey, you changed your mind about the Garbage and Placebo concert yet?"
"I'm thinking about it. Seems like everybody's talking about it. I'll be the only dude in town who's not going. Maybe I'll dig into my savings."
I watched him as he continued to hit the bag. Kyle wasn't a tall guy, maybe 5' 8" or so, but he had a solid build, a good pair of shoulders and strong arms. Most of all, he had determination like you rarely see in a person. Somehow, he was able to command respect from other guys without really trying -- it was as though he didn't go looking for respect or admiration. He just let it come to him, and it did. His ability to be able to be in command of his life kinda pissed me off a bit. He trusted people whereas I didn't, and I didn't because... well, they'd often let me down. So what did this spiky-haired bundle of energy and determination have that I didn't? What was his secret? How come he was so fucking popular? And the biggest fucking question of all, why the fuck did he wanna hang with me?
"Hey, Kyle, before you tear that bag into fucking shreds, you wanna borrow my Nudies CD to tape?"
"Yeah! That'd be totally cool! Thanks."
"Did Steve wanna know where you were yesterday?"
"Yeah, he called when I got home. I told him I was at your place listening to the Nudies."
"Was he mad?"
"No. He was cool. He knows that you and I hang in the gym and stuff. Actually, he kinda likes you, too."
The next day, I was in one of my aggro moods at the gym. Moods seemed to have some kinda control over me like there was nothing I could do about them, except punch the shit outa the bag or, in this case, Kyle. Fact was, anything that got in the way of my fists was in big fucking trouble.
"You're helluva quiet this morning, Mark."
"I thought we were getting along OK, and that you were lightening up."
I ignored him and kept punching the shit outa the dancing and ducking dude.
"Hey, Mark! Fucking cool it, dude! You're hitting the crap outa me!"
"So? Are you here to fuck around or to spar? I want you to hit me back if you're not chicken."
That got the little fucker. He lost his rag and laid into me like he was gonna teach me a lesson, but it was I who taught him. He had a long way to go before he'd be good enough to out-box me and, because of my foul mood, I wasn't gonna give the sucker an even break. If he wanted to spar with me, he could take the consequences or beat it. As it happened, he took the hammering I gave him. But if there was one thing I had to admire about that spunky dude, it was his guts.
I'd just begun to soap myself under the shower when Kyle broke the stony silence with an attempt to lighten up the gloom. "Hey, Mark, what's up, buddy? You look like you're on a mission."
"Nothing. Just another fucked up day."
"Hey, if you can't talk to me, then who can you talk to? Anyway, you beat me to a fucking pulp, so I deserve to hear why."
"It's nothing, Kyle, so don't stress about it." I felt a lump in my throat, and knew that if I said any more I'd break down. My bud must've noticed my body language, so he quit the convo. Sure, I wanted to explain things to him since he'd demonstrated loyalty beyond anything I'd ever expected of a friend, but I just couldn't bring myself to unload my bundle without revealing a side to me that might appear wussy.
After we'd showered and dressed, we were walking out of the gym when I did something without thinking. My arm seemed to have a mind of its own and draped itself around Kyle's shoulders. As soon as I'd realized what had happened, I withdrew it, but offered an explanation. "Sorry if I lost it this morning, buddy. Guess I just needed to let off a lotta steam. But I'll be OK now that you're hurting big time," I giggled.
At lunch break, I'd pretty much gotten back to normal when I met up with Kyle in the quad. The morning session in the ring had done its job, and my aggro had dissipated. I was glad 'cause Kyle was cool to hang with and often made me laugh. Despite that, it was still a mystery to me why he continued to stick by me. I looked around at all the other kids in the quad and couldn't help thinking that I was the lucky one to have Kyle sitting next to me as we ate our lunch. For a loner like me, it was a pretty special feeling to be in his company.
"Thanks for putting your arm around me this morning, Mark."
"It kinda happened."
"I'm glad it did. It said a lot, dude. A helluva lot. Hey, why don't you come around to my house sometime?"
"Hey, I'd like to, honest. But with all the sports at school and the stuff I have to do at home for mom it's kinda hard to find the time. And when I do, I like to go clubbing 'cause I can hang loose and get the shit outa my head."
The only time I'd been to Kyle's house was when I'd attended his surprise birthday party -- and I had to be talked into that by Steve. I wasn't much for visiting folks, mainly 'cause they had families. A house full of folks seemed so strange to me after getting used to just mom and me. Actually, it made me feel awkward being at other people's houses so I tried to avoid being invited and, if I were, I'd make the usual excuses about not having the time.
That night, after I'd stripped ready for bed, I stood naked in my room and looked at where Kyle had been sitting on my bed the previous afternoon. This time, though, I had a raging boner 'cause I was thinking about what Kyle had said about jacking off every night. "What were you saying about the band, Kyle?" I imagined him with his eyes glued to my pulsating throbber as I fisted it. "Kinda lost the plot for some reason, Kyle?" I moved closer to the bed to where his face would've been if he'd been sitting there. "Something else kinda got your attention, bud?" I was making myself mighty fucking hot by just visualizing the kid staring bug-eyed at my rock-hard meat as I stroked it. Pretty soon, I felt the rush coming and arched my back in anticipation of jetting a fucking truckload. I watched my boy juice explode outa my knob in long, white strands, and jet all over the covers -- but, in my mind, I was imagining my sticky wads splattering all over the dude's cute face, as well as over his full, red lips. Whoa! Awesome!
Just before I went to sleep, I spent a moment wondering what Kyle might think about when he jacked off at night. Maybe I'd get around to asking him.
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