In the afternoon, after swim prac, I walked home with Kyle and Wingnut. The grommet was getting off big time on taking the piss outa me. He was like Kyle in that respect… the little bugger didn't know when to stop.
"So Joey says this prick prefect gave him a hard time 'cause his shirt was hanging out. I asked him who it was, and he said it was Godzilla the Hun. So I figured it was you."
I stopped walking, and reached into my blazer pocket for my little black book. "How do you spell your name? L-I-T-T-L-E P-R-I-C-K for detention?"
"You can't do that! We're not in school now!"
"You're still in school uniform."
So the kid suddenly decided to change his tune. "Anyway, that's not what Joey said."
"What did he say?"
"He said it was the prefect with the muscles, so I figured it could only be you. So I told him that you were my friend, and he asked me to speak to you."
"OK, so you're speaking to me. You can tell him that."
Over dinner that night, mom asked me about my job as prefect, and how it was going. "It's cool in some ways, I guess. I get respect from most of the dudes."
"Surely you don't need to be a prefect to get respect?"
"You've always been strangely insular. Not so much now, though, I must admit… not since Carol and Kyle. But you still have your moods."
"Maybe I've got my dad's genes," I offered, not wanting to discuss the matter any further. Mom never liked to talk about him. He was a part of her life that she regretted, with one exception... me.
Next morning, as we were dressing in the showers after swim prac, I couldn't help but notice that Kyle had the most incredible fucking skin-stretcher.
"Fuck, Kyle. Put that thing away before you injure yourself."
"My nads are so damn pumped, I'm in pain."
"What were you thinking about?"
"About you giving me a BJ to relieve the pressure."
I gave him a pretty lamo punch on the arm. "Fuck off… I'm outa here."
I wasn't sure whether or not he was joking. Kyle had a way of being kinda mysterious when he talked about sex. Anyway, I figured I'd wait for him outside the showers. It was safer. And wait I did.
"What the fuck took you so long?"
"I had to shower again."
"I offloaded in the crapper."
"You fucking didn't!"
"Didn't anyone hear you?"
"I was quiet up until the storm."
That totally cracked me up, and it was a while before I could speak again. "Fuck, Kyle, where did I find you?"
Was he joking, or was he not? I just couldn't imagine him actually jacking off in the crapper. Then again, I was beginning to believe that Kyle was capable of doing almost anything. I didn't raise the subject again that day, and neither did he, although, while we were watching Wingnut playing cricket during recess, he did point out that the grommet's furniture "pushes out a neat package, while the other guys' shorts have the normal fold"."
"You're supposed to be watching the game."
"I just couldn't help noticing," he grinned.
Later, at home, I was still intrigued by what Kyle had told me after he'd showered twice. Curiosity finally got the better of me, so I punched in his number.
"How's it going?"
"Hey, did you seriously jack in the crapper?"
"Yeah… I've done it before."
I guess I should've expected that kinda direct response. The dude had no shame. No shame at all. "You must've been damn desperate. Hey! How about staying over on Friday night? My mom's going away with shitforbrains. We can go out with the girls, then you can sleep over. We can get shitfaced, and you won't have to take any flak from your folks."
"I'll check, and let you know."
As I replaced the phone, I found myself thinking about my bud again, and how totally rad he was. Exciting, even. He wasn't like anybody else I knew. It was as though he had no hangups about anything… well, anything sexual. And, in a kinda weird way, his honesty and directness was a turn-on. It was contagious… not to the point where I wanted to emulate him… but it was like some kinda challenge that I couldn't quite meet, and that gave him a superior edge over me, at least in that respect. He was always full of surprises, and often had me guessing. For sure, he was never dull. Infuriating sometimes, but never fucking dull.
Some minutes later, he phoned to say that it was cool with his folks, and that Steph was keen to go clubbing as well.
Next morning at assembly, came the moment I'd been dreading. All the swimmers who'd won medals on the tour were called up to face the rest of the students and teachers. After the speeches, we had to stand there while everybody cheered. I glanced over to where Wingnut was standing, and saw him beaming from ear to ear. Not me, though. I was totally pissed off.
Kyle caught up to me as we were leaving the assembly hall. "Hey, you looked pretty good up there."
"Shuddup. Fuck, I hate that."
"You're lucky this isn't a girl's school… 'specially with that erection you had."
His remark caught me completely by surprise, and caused me to freak for a moment. "Don’t talk crap! You're not serious? Kyle?" The damn fucker had hot-footed it outa there. "Kyle! Come back here you shit!"
No way was I gonna let him get away with that cheeky crap of his, so I chased him all the way across the grounds, then eventually caught up with him on the grass fields, where I dive tackled him, and brought him crashing down.
I turned him over, sat on his chest, and pinned the grinning fucker's arms back. "One day," I warned. "One day, Kyle, I'm gonna beat you so damn badly…"
There was a commotion nearby, and I turned to see a couple of guys running toward us. One of them, surprise, surprise, was Wingnut.
"Crap," he said, looking disappointed. "They're only playing. I wanted to see them bleed again."
I faced Kyle again, and we both nodded. In an instant, we were on our feet, and had grabbed the grommet's shorts. We pulled them up so high that he was never gonna be a father. After we'd let him go, he had to walk bow-legged 'cause his nads had obviously been severely punished.
"One day, I'm gonna get both of you guys," he threatened. "And you're gonna feel ever so fucking sorry!"
"Was that swearing at a prefect that I just heard?" I asked.
"No. But I can understand that's one of the first things that goes with old age… your fucking hearing!"
Kyle kicked Wingnut lightly on the ankle to get him to chill. I would've definitely busted him if he'd continued swearing… and he was lucky that nobody else had heard what he'd said to me.
When we'd all arrived back at the quad, and Wingnut had disappeared into the boy's room, Kyle and I collapsed with laughter. We were laughing so much, we had to confine our convo to the few precious seconds between desperate gasps for air.
"Did you see his eyes when the shorts lifted? I thought they were gonna pop out!"
"He's not gonna be able to jerk that turkey this weekend."
We were still laughing when Wingnut emerged from the boy's room looking pretty cheesed off, but we did our best to appear serious. Every now and then, though, one of us would crack, and set off another chain reaction of giggling.
"Watch your back, Kyle," the grommet warned, but there was something very comical about the contrast between the seriousness of his threat and his immature voice. "I'm not taking any prisoners. And you can tell Conan that as well."
That did it for me and Kyle. We were both holding our stomachs as we collapsed into hysterics. We were still giggling later in class, and had to avoid each other's eyes, or we would've had tears rolling down our cheeks. It had almost gotten to the point of not even remembering what we were laughing at. Oh, yeah… Wingnut's marbles.
Friday night we went to Corners and had a total rave. We drank a bit, but didn't get too shitfaced, which meant that the girls had a good time, too.
We left the club about 2am, and managed to get a lift with some friends we'd met there. Normally, we would've thumbed a ride home. Thumbing rides to and from the clubs was pretty much our only option if we wanted to go there.
Kyle walked Steph home first, while Carol and I watched her climb into my bud's cargoes as they were kissing. It was obvious that the dude had a major skin-splitter, but he was gonna have to wait 'til later to offload the damn thing. Then we walked Carol to her place, where she invited me inside. Kyle said he'd wait outside for me.
"You took for-fucking-ever!" he complained when I finally re-appeared. "Did you fuck her while I was waiting?"
"Nope. Didn't have a rubber, or I would've."
"Hey, you could've asked. I always carry one."
I placed my hands around his neck, and shook him. "Now you fucking tell me!"
On the walk to my house, I pulled a joint outa my pocket, lit it, and took a drag. Then I offered it to Kyle, but he just shook his head. I was telling him about a bungalow that mom's boyfriend had in the country.
"It's some property that he bought, and he's built this place. My mom says it's pretty fantastic… right on the river edge. They're gonna spend just about every second weekend up there, putting the finishing touches on the house, and stuff like that."
"Sounds great. How come you haven't gone with them yet?"
"'Cause the fuck hates me, and I hate him. So it suits me that he's got that place."
After we'd gotten to my house, I poured a couple of vodkas -- two nips -- and topped each glass with fresh orange juice. We stripped down to our boxers, then took our drinks out to the courtyard, where there was a small barbecue area, a table, and a couple of wooden benches. I lit another joint, and was surprised that Kyle didn't say anything about it. He wasn't into drugs at all, but he was chilling, which suited me just fine.
My bud stood up from the bench and went behind me, then began to massage my shoulders and neck with his magic fingers.
"That feels soooooo good," I sighed. "Ever think of becoming the team masseur?"
"Nope. There's just certain guys that I would massage… and you're one of them."
"It's the feel or your skin… muscles. I dunno. I just enjoy it 'cause it's you."
Me? I thought. Was this dude an earthling? Anyway, I rolled my head around as he massaged my neck, and luxuriated in his expert manipulation of my muscles. Any tension I may have had, had completely dissipated. And I was sure it wasn't just 'cause of the joint.
Despite the cool night air, our skin was still layered with sweat, probably 'cause of all the clubbing and drinking. Our bodies shone with a matt, golden sheen, a reflection of the soft, yellow light that came from the house.
"Why don't you straddle the bench? Then I could sit behind you."
Hey, I was so damn relaxed, just about anything would've been cool. I kicked one leg over the bench, then laid on my back. Kyle sat behind my head, with his legs either side of the seat, then reached forward and placed his flat hands on my pecs. It was an unexpected move, and I was pretty sure that he heard me catch my breath. But I didn't resist him. I allowed him to rub my pecs, and felt my nipples harden beneath his palms.
"Does that feel OK?"
He ran his hands down my stomach and over my abs 'til he got to the waistband of my boxers. Then he lightly touched my boner. Whoa! There was no way I could stop now. "Want me to take these off?"
"Serious?" Kyle was obviously surprised by the casualness of my offer. "Hey," he suggested, "just stand up, and let me take them off for you."
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