South Africa
Part 16

Well, Kyle had managed to talk his folks into letting him go to Corners with us on Friday night. I couldn't believe Steve, though -- he was with a different chick! He was always with a different chick! How he managed to pull so much pussy was a mystery -- although I had to admit, he was one hunky looking dude with his long, blonde hair and surfer tan. And I guessed what Kyle had told me must've been true -- that Steve was considered to be a boy god by all the groupies who hung out at the beach. Anyway, I was with Carol and Kyle was with Steph. It was a pretty good rave until I saw some geek dancing with my girl. I'd had a bit too much to drink and lost my rag. Fortunately, the guy backed off when I confronted him. I'd have been in deep shit with Carol if there'd been a fight.

By the time Kyle had arrived at the gym on Monday morning, I was already skipping with a rope. "Hey, you're all sweaty," he said as he began to ditch his school uniform.

"Comes with the territory, dude."

"Looks cool."

"Sweat looks cool? You're sick, Kyle."

"And there's a little pool of sweat in your belly button, and a little river running between your pecs."

"Fuck! If I didn't know you better…"

"Chill! Why do you think bodybuilders oil their bods? 'Cause it accentuates the muscles, that's why."

"Cut the crap and help me with the medicine ball." I laid down on the floormat and put my hands behind my shoulders. "OK, hold it two feet above my abs and drop it."

"Won't it hurt?"

"Not if I contract my abs. That's the whole point, dickhead -- it toughens them against punches."

By the time first break had arrived, I was itching to ask Kyle about Saturday night. Carol had already told me some stuff that Steph had told her, and I was hoping that Kyle would tell me of his own accord. But the secretive fucker didn't, so I had no choice but to quiz him as we sat together. "So you went around to Steph's house on Saturday night?"


"And her folks were out?"


Two 'yeps' in a row. Cool! There had to be a third one. "So did you screw her?"


"Why not?"

"We just did some necking and stuff."

OK, I had no choice but to go for the jugular. "She gives pretty good head, huh?"


The look of total surprise on Kyle's face was fucking priceless. It caused me to crack big time and slap my knee. "She phoned Carol first thing on Sunday morning to tell her that she'd gotten into your pants. She said you seemed to be as nervous as fucking hell -- especially when she got your cock in her mouth."

His neck and face were on fire as he tried valiantly explain the situation away. "Yeah, well I wasn't expecting it."

"Oh, yeah! Fucking right!" I laughed. "Into her house and nobody's home, and you didn't wanna fuck her lights out for her?"

"I didn't have any protection on me, anyway."

"Are you getting mad with this convo?"

"Nope, I'm just pissed at Carol for phoning Steph with the details."

"Hey, don't sweat it, dude! I'm sure Carol gives Steph all the details of me and her, anyway. Steph's been talking about seeing you naked ever since the first night you guys went out, and she's not disappointed. So just enjoy it."

"So what's the fucking story? Each time we do something, she phones Carol?"

"Hey, Kyle, chill for fuck's sake. We do the same thing."

"I guess -- just caught me by surprise that you knew all the details."

"Weeeell," I grinned, "she described your boner the way I see it every morning in the showers. So how was it?"

"It was fucking awesome."

"So when are you gonna fuck her?"

"Fucking hell!" he glared, "why is that so fucking important to you?"

"Whoa! Hold it! I'm sorry I even brought it up, OK?"

"I'm not mad at you. It's just that it's such a huge fucking thing that all the guys in school have to get laid."

"Well, it's better than spending every night wanking."

"I still enjoy jacking," he grinned, "especially when I imagine that it's you sucking me off."

"Fuck you!" But I couldn't help laughing like hell. At least he'd taken the pressure off the convo which had gotten a little outa hand. It could've easily become an argument, and I was glad it hadn't. "Fuck, Kyle, you are twisted, bro."

From time to time during the rest of the day, I pondered the mystery of Kyle. There was a dude who didn't mind parading his boner in the showers, whether it was with me in the mornings or later with the swim team, or making jokes about jacking or whatever, and yet he'd clammed up and become all defensive about Steph giving him head. How come he was all bravado sometimes, then ultra sensitive at others? And did he really fantasize about my giving him head? You could never tell with Kyle. He would grin when he joked, but there was something about the twinkle in his hazel eyes that made you think… well, that there might be an element of truth in what he was saying. I had to admit that I'd fantasized about his fleshy, red lips riding my shaft -- but there was no fucking way that I'd tell him.

Next morning in the gym, we decided on a no-holds-barred sparring session, so I laid into him. One time I connected him in the ribs with a pretty hefty punch. My technique included an uppercut style of punch where I'd connect just under the ribs. "Shit! That smarts!" he complained. "Felt like a fucking train coming."

"Keep your eyes peeled -- and I don't mean so that you can keep gawking at my bod like you've been doing."

"Have not!"

"Yeah, right. You think I don't notice?" Well, that made him pretty mad 'cause the moment I lifted my arm to jab him, he saw the opportunity to whallop my weak spot -- right under my arm. I covered myself right away, but not before he'd scored a painful bullseye.

"Hey, you're improving," I said as we hit the showers.

"You never compliment anyone."

"Not until now."

Well, I guessed it was my turn to ogle his dick for a change. Every time I saw that thick piece of cut teen meat bouncing around as he soaped himself, I'd think about Steph's lips sliding up and down the damn thing -- and how his face must've looked when he was shooting his load. Carol had already told me that Steph had swallowed every single, fucking drop of his juice. I was itching to quiz him some more about it, but decided to play it safe and keep my trap shut.

"I had a cool chat with Steph last night. She came around to my place."


"You. I asked her what it was like when she went out with you."


"She said she likes you a helluva lot but that she couldn't handle your mood changes from one day to the next. She never knew what mood you were gonna be in."

"You seem to handle it OK."

"You've got a hot bod."

"Fuck off, Kyle. Every time I ask you something serious, you change the fucking subject and start talking shit."

"It's not shit. Anyway, I handle your moods 'cause I wanna. Sure, I get pissed when you act like the fucking world's gonna end, but you're my bud... and that's what buds do."

"How hot?"


"My bod."

"But you just said... Anyway, I've already told you."

"So tell me again."

"At least an eight."

"Does that mean a nine?"

"Pretty close. Anyway, Steph says I've got a pretty neat room."

So, I guessed that was the end of the hot bod convo. He'd gone as far as he wanted to go. Still, it was cool to know that a dude like Kyle -- who had a pretty hot bod himself -- was an admirer [if that was the right word] of mine. During the short time I'd known the guy, he'd always given me the impression that he didn't settle for second best. He had pretty high standards -- not just in the choice of his friends, but in sport and school work as well. He was a high achiever.

That night in my room, I checked my reflection in the mirror again. "A nine, huh?" I folded my arms and made fists so that my biceps bulged. They weren't the biggest I'd seen, but they were pretty cool, and well defined. Then I brought my elbows forward to accentuate my lats. "Hmmm, pretty impressive." They stood out from my ribs like the neck of a cobra, then narrowed down to my small waist. As for my pecs and abs, well, the boxing had honed them to peak condition. "Maybe I should take up surfing and give that Steve dude a run for his money with the beach groupies," I thought as a grin spread across my face.

And my cock? I stepped out of my track pants and checked it out. Yeah, pretty awesome. It was thick and cut, and hung in a lazy arc away from my balls, which dropped a bit lower than most other guys'. My small patch of black pubes was a neat rectangular shape -- and the only hair on my bod except for my head.

I looked at the poster of the chick on my wall and focused on her lips. Suddenly, they morphed into Kyle's lips. His were thicker and fuller than most, and something that gave him a bit of a complex. But I thought they were kinda neat -- they suited his face. Anyway, I couldn't help thinking about them wrapped around my cock, which was a fucking screamer by then. I'd heard that guys could give better head than girls 'cause they understood dicks better. Could that be true? Had Kyle ever been blown by a guy?

Instead of sparring the next morning in the gym, we took turns hitting the bag, and shadow boxing. "You're pretty wired this morning," Kyle observed.

"I'm wired every fucking morning."

"More so today. You mustn't have jacked off."

"Matter of fact, I did,"

"Looking at that poster on your wall?"


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