South Africa
Part 20

That night, I didn't sleep very well -- my mind was constantly invaded by thoughts about the convo I'd had with Kyle during break. How he'd managed to convince me to admit to the things I had was beyond me. Until that day, I would have sworn that I would have taken those secrets with me to the grave. How the fuck did he do that? Maybe it was 'cause of his own admissions that I loosened up. It was something that we had in common -- a dark past that we could share -- a kinda bonding experience.

Next morning in the gym, Kyle was looking pretty shabby, and I was wondering why. "You go out last night?"

"Nope. Just couldn't sleep."

"How come?"

"Thinking about stuff… y'know, the stuff we were talking about yesterday."

"Me, too."

"Steph phoned last night," he said, changing the subject. "She's going away with her folks for the spring vacation. Anyway, we chatted for ages and she blew me."

"Over the phone?"

"Yeah. Cool, huh? I had a wicked boner. And when I told her, she cracked up big time."

"Did you shoot?"

"I did later."

"Thinking about the stuff she said on the phone?"

"That, and other stuff."

"Like what other stuff?"

"Hey, go figure. You think I'm gonna tell you everything?"

"Why not? You always tell me everything."

"How do you know there's stuff I haven't told you yet?"

There was a pause in the convo as we turned on the showers and soaped up. Stuff he hadn't told me? Like what? "So what are you saying? That you jacked off more than once?"

"Six times."

"Fuck! No wonder you didn't get any sleep! Jeez! So what were you thinking about?"

"Stuff," he grinned.

Well, I figured he must've been thinking about our convo during lunch break, and about jacking other guys. What else could it have been? And was he thinking about… jacking me? Whoa! I didn't really wanna know. Well, I did, but I was nervous about where the convo would head if he'd answered my question. It was time to change the subject again. "Carol and I are going to the Camel Experience tonight. Grace Jones live on stage is gonna be the bomb."

"Yeah, I'm pissed that I won't be going, but I've gotta save some bucks for stuff I wanna buy. Anyway, I saw a poster advertising Just Jinger live at the club. I'll probably go there and get fucking mashed in the mosh pit or something."

"Leave your fly unbuttoned. Maybe you'll get lucky."

"It's unbuttoned now, bro," he laughed as he waved his long, thick semi around.

I hated it when he did that 'cause, for some reason, my blood rushed south and I'd end up with a boner. It was as though my dick was totally independent of my brain, and was beyond any control. And to make matters worse, the fucker would notice my hardon and make a joke about it. What could I say? That seven inches of rock-hard teen meat under the shower was an illusion?

"My hands are soapy. You want me to jack you?"

"Fuck off, Kyle."

That spiky-haired, grinning, Cheshire cat had a way of sewing seeds in my brain, and getting me to imagine things that I didn't really wanna think about. But, yeah, I had to admit that the idea of his slippery fist riding my shaft was pretty fucking horny. And there was absolutely no doubt in my mind that he would have if I'd given him half a chance. In fact, I was sure that it wouldn't just be his fist, it would have been his juicy, red lips as well. Jeez!

I didn't see much of Kyle during the spring break. He was either doing chores around the hood to earn some bucks, or surfing with his buds. So it wasn't until the school had asked a few of us from the swim team to volunteer for some cleaning work before the end of the holidays, as well as swim training preparation, that I got a chance to spend time with him. His grommet buddy Wingnut was also there. He'd obviously been conned by his silver-tongued neighbor.

While we cleaned the pool, scrubbed the change rooms and tidied the gym, Wingnut and I got to talking, and the more we chatted, the more I liked the little dude. He had spirit, and enjoyed goofing off. He was a cheeky bugger, though -- the type who never knew when to shut his mouth. He was dissing me all fucking morning which, under normal circumstances, would've earned him a clip over the ear. But, instead of losing my cool, I just dissed him back, and chucked him into the pool whenever he stretched his luck a bit too far. On a couple of occasions, we wrestled in the water and I tried to keep his head under, but he was a fiery little guy and surprisingly strong, and would wriggle free of my hold to swim a safe distance away, then give me more cheek. I had to laugh, though. His giggle was totally fucking infectious.

"You and Kyle are pretty close buds," I commented while Kyle was elsewhere.

"He's my best friend… my big bro… we're surfing buds. He rules."

"Hey, you gonna give him a fucking award or something?"

"Don't you like him?"

"Yeah, he's cool."

"Cool? He's like WAY cool! And he thinks you're way cool, too," he grinned.

"He does?"

"Sure! He talks about you a lot."


"Y'know, stuff about the gym and the sparring, and how you guys hang at school. He says you're super good looking -- kinda serious all the time, though, but he says that your eyes smile -- they sparkle when you smile, like they are just now. But he says when you get mad, they go from a brown color to almost gray. Then you've gotta run like hell. Is Kyle your best friend?"


"You can't have a 'kinda' best friend! Is he or isn't he?"

"You ask too many questions, Wingnut."

"That's what he says," he giggled. "Hey, you wanna know something weird?"

So was this kid gonna tell me that he and Kyle had jacked off together? "Weird?"

"Yeah. Well, I thought it was weird to start with, then I realized it wasn't. Last week, when it was like midnight or something, Kyle knocks on my bedroom window and wakes me. "Wingnut!" he says, "wake up! There's something I want you to see?" So, I put my PJs on and followed him to his backyard. His mom and dad were already there, looking at some potted plant. I was pretty sleepy so it didn't make a whole lotta sense to me. Anyway, he told me that his dad had woken him 'cause he wanted him to see his cactus flower.""

"Cactus flower?"

"Yeah, his dad said that it only flowered once a year, and only at night. So it was kinda special 'cause most people never got to see it. His dad was having a glass of wine in the yard before bed when he noticed it, then woke Kyle, who woke me."

"I don't get it. All this bullshit about a fucking flower?"

"That's what I thought at first, but it's the kinda thing that makes Kyle so damn awesome. Anyway, we watched it bloom. It was the bluest flower I'd ever seen, and there was only one. It was totally wicked to see it open slowly until it was as big as my fist."

"I still don't get it."

"The next day, Kyle told me that he'd seen the cactus in a nursery when he was shopping with his mom, and that he'd asked her to buy it for him. He said -- to me, not his mom -- that the cactus reminded him of a friend of his, so he called it 'B'."

"You're not making any sense, dude."

"His friend is some older guy whose name's B, so he named…"

"Yeah, yeah. I get the point. But I still don't understand what all the fucking fuss was about."

"Don't you see? Kyle's friends are like way special to him. Hey, I've got a surfboard and a wettie 'cause of him, not to mention the best big bro a kid could wish for. And some old dude's got a cactus named after him. You must have a bunch of stuff, too."

"A bunch of stuff?"

"Yeah, y'know, stuff from Kyle."

"Yeah." I paused for a moment. "I guess I do."

"Hey, Mark!" Kyle yelled as he ran toward us. "Some of the guys are going clubbing tonight. You wanna come?" Then he turned to Wingnut. "Sorry, little bro. Big guys only."

That night, a whole bunch of us from the team, plus our girlfriends, including Steph who'd arrived back from holidays, went out on the town and had a total, fucking rage. Steve and his new chick were also with us. For me, it was a clear demonstration that I was changing. Not so long ago, I'd been a loner -- even to the point of being anti-social. Wingnut was right -- I did have a bunch of stuff from Kyle, and it was all in my head.

The following Monday we were back at school for the last quarter of the year, and swim training was on in earnest. Actually, I elected to train extra time by myself during some of the school breaks. I treated swimming like I treated everything else -- the harder I worked, the better my chances were of being the best. And, even though I was a fairly physical kinda dude, I also worked hard at my studies, and usually got pretty high marks.

The team was also getting some specialized training from Darren, a senior from last year who'd gone on to college. And Ross had been made team captain for the summer, which meant that he'd be the school team captain next year. He deserved it, too. He worked damn hard, not only for us, but also for the juniors. He was one dedicated dude. Speaking of juniors, Wingnut told me that he'd be a junior at our school next year, and that Kyle was gonna get him on the swim team in the summer. During winter, he was gonna play rugger. Jeez, the fucking school would never be the same again with that little fucker around. But he seemed totally blown away by the idea of attending the same school as Kyle and I. And, yeah, I was kinda chuffed about it, too. Little guys didn't come any cooler than Wingnut.

The weather had been unseasonably hot, hovering around the high 90s, so swim training was a neat way to cool off, plus a neat way to kick Kyle's ass. I could beat him in every category except the butterfly, dammit. He creamed me big time in the butterfly, and maybe it was just as well. The kid had to be good at something besides messing with my fucking brain.

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