South Africa
Part 75

I caught a mini bus down to the harbor, then walked directly to the yacht-building company. I wasn't quite sure how to dress, but the ad in the paper had said they wanted a young guy who wasn't afraid of hard work. I figured jeans and a t would be OK. Hey, I wasn't applying for job as a fucking bank teller.

"Know anything about yachts?"

"Not really, but I'm fit, and I'm willing to learn."

"The job pays 2000 a month."

"That's fine. When do I start?"

"You just have."

The sea had never been my life the way it had been for Kyle. I could take it or leave it. But, somehow, the harbor was different. It wasn't about waves or surfing, it was about beautiful, sleek boats made of varnished timbers and high-tech materials. I'd always admired them, but now they were beginning to fascinate me. How were they built? What would it be like to sail in one? And what would it be like for me to know that I'd actually participated in building one?

I began to enjoy the sounds, too. The constant squawking of the gulls, the flapping of loose sails, the lapping of small waves against the hulls, the wharves busy with people chatting and laughing. There was a very special and colorful atmosphere about Cape Town harbor that I'd never really appreciated before. And now I was a part of it. This wasn't just a job, this was a lifestyle! And the hours at the yacht-building company meant that I could keep my part-time job at the pizza restaurant on weekends.

Kyle had also scored a job... in a store... the lazy little shit. There I was working my butt off under the hot sun while he was swanning around in air-conditioned comfort like Lord Fucking Muck smiling at customers with that big, cheesy grin of his. The hardest thing he had to do all day was wrap something.

Meantime, we'd managed to connect pretty much every day, which pissed Carol off a bit.

"When you're not building yachts, you're serving pizzas. And when you're not serving pizzas, you're hanging with Kyle. What about me?"

"I'm saving up for college. So's Kyle."

"Your dad said he'd pay for it."

"Hey, I wanna do it myself. OK? I'm not a fucking charity case."

I didn't tell Carol about Kyle's offer of learning SCUBA diving. His boss was into it big time and Kyle had invited me to learn as well. Less time for Carol. Oh, well...

After a hard day's work on Thursday, I was in the mood for Kyle's company. Although we'd been connecting pretty much every day, we'd both been way too busy to spend quality time with each other. And I'd been thinking about our little chat on the mountain. Jesus! I'd kissed the guy! Me! But what the fuck? It felt good to have that spiky-haired fucker around to annoy me. So I gave him a call, told him that mom and shitforbrains were out, and invited him over.

Hmmm. Should I give him a buzz? Heck, why not? I put on a pair of gym shorts and left it at that. He'd always enjoyed gawking at me, and he was good for my ego. Anyway, if he got a bit too carried away I could always beat the crap outa him.

When I opened the door, and saw that cheeky ear-to-ear grin, I couldn't help but respond in kind. Yeah, it was wicked to see him, and I couldn't hide the fact.


"Hey, hunk," he said as his eyes soaked up every inch of my bod, which, I had to admit, was looking pretty damn cool after the tan I'd gotten from working at the yacht-building company.

"Fuck! Don't ever say that in front of Carol!"

"Why?" he smiled as he entered the house, then proceeded toward the kitchen like he owned the place. "She knows you're a hunk."

"Yeah... but I don't think she needs competition... especially from a guy."

"So?" he asked as he arrived at the kitchen.

"So what?"

"So what are we gonna do?"

"First, supper. I've made some lasagne, and I've got a bottle of shithead's cabernet."

"Unusual brand name."

"Smartass. And I've got a joint that I can smoke on my own or share with you."

"Go for it."

We ate in the garden, and it was pretty obvious that Kyle was impressed with the cabernet, although it seemed to be going straight to his head. He wasn't a regular wine drinker. It was also cool to see him enjoying my cooking.

"So it's not just my bod?"

"Your bod helps," he giggled. "So who's gonna do the cooking when you and Carol get married?"

"Forget it."

"You're not gonna get married?"

"I've just left high school, Kyle. And then there's college."

"Anyway, I think your cooking is sensational. It fucking rules."

"You think everything about me is fucking sensational," I laughed.

Kyle helped me do the dishes and clean the kitchen before we returned to the garden with some coffee. I lit the joint, took a long drag, then asked him if he wanted to share it.

"Thanks, but the cabernet's already given me enough of a buzz."

The rest of the evening flew as we chatted about all kinds of stuff... work, the SCUBA diving, my boss's wife giving me the eye, whatever. Meantime, we'd managed to demolish another half-bottle of cabernet before it was time to think about hitting the hay.

"You gonna take those shorts off?" Kyle asked as we entered my room.

Hey, I'd had a joint and a lotta red wine. I was feeling pretty damn mellow. Besides, I'd been hoping he'd ask. "You wanna take them off for me?"

He stood behind me and slid my shorts down my legs. Was he checking my ass? Probably. Carol had often said that I had a cute butt, so I figured Kyle thought the same. But he decided to undress himself. I guessed Kyle was unsure about whether or not I was willing to. And he was right. I was unsure. That was a barrier I wasn't prepared to cross just now.

"Hey, I've got something here."


"Aroma therapy oil. I remember reading some of my dad's... never mind. I wanna give you a massage."

"Reading your dad's what?"


"You're fucking outrageous, Kyle," I laughed as I laid on my stomach, expecting him to massage my back.

"Nope, you need to lay on your back."

Hello? Oh, well, what the fuck. I rolled over onto my back and closed my eyes.

"Ohhh, jeeeeez!"

"Cut the crap, Kyle." But I couldn't help smiling at the thought of him ogling my bod, and thick, lazy dick.

He slowly went to work on my chest and stomach, massaging very gently. Then his hands glided over every inch of my bod like feathers, as though they weren't quite touching me. The feeling was totally awesome... like mild electric shock as his fingers went about their highly erotic business. It seemed to me that he was tracing every groove of my chest and sixpack, then to the lines that ran from from my hips to my pubes.

"This is unreal, Kyle."

"I'm just doing what it said in my dad's... on the brochure that came with the bottle."

"Yeah, right. You shouldn't be reading your dad's private stuff."

His hands began to extend their incredible magic to my not-so-lazy dick, which was slowly hardening despite his not actually touching it. But I could sure feel the electric presence of his fingers. After that, he lightly massaged the length of both my legs -- on the insides.

After I'd rolled over, he did the same thing to my back, beginning with my shoulders, then working towards my buns. He didn't actually touch those either, but, again, I could feel the acute presence of his fingers as they continued their feather-light journey.

"They're perfect."


"Nothing. It's totally awesome the way your muscles are shining from the oil... but you're not really oily 'cause it soaks into the skin."

"What's perfect?"

"The aroma of the oil."

"The truth, Kyle."

"Your buns."

"What am I donna do with you?"

"Massage me?"

I copied his technique and saw from the totally contented look on his face that I was transporting him to a world of utter bliss. My bud's bod wasn't quite as cut as mine, but it was still wicked... due mainly to all the surfing. And I had to admit that his butt was cute... for a guy's.

Afterwards, we laid on our sides gazing into each other's eyes. Who is this guy? I wondered as I searched those beautiful hazel peepers, while trying to get a glimpse of his soul. Whoever he was, he had a quality I'd never seen in another person, not even Carol. There was something magnetic about him... something irresistible. The crazy thing was that it wasn't just about sex. I was genuinely attracted to him... all of him. In his presence, I felt at one with him. Somehow, the fact that we were both guys didn't enter into the equation. At that moment, it wasn't an issue.

He moved closer to me, and I did likewise. Our boners were sparring as our mouths met. I kissed him like I'd kissed him that afternoon on the mountain. Passionately. Intensely.

It was no surprise that Kyle's hand was massaging my throbber as our wild tongues explored each other's mouths, thrashing about like cut snakes. The heat of the moment had taken full control. Any thoughts of right or wrong had been completely dispelled. Banished.

The inevitable happened. I arched my back, thrust my pulsating dick against Kyle's crotch, and exploded a truckload while my hands enjoyed the smooth, solid muscles of his back and chest, and my tongue continued to lash his.

When it was all over, I was totally exhausted but blissfully contented. All I could manage before I closed my eyes for sleep was, "Thanks, Kyle."

The Captain's postscript: I love him, B. I'm sure of that. Hey, he gets his moods, and I piss him off still - hehehe.

Mr B's postscript: Let me remind you of something. This is what you wrote me on March 16, 1999, Code. :o)

you want somethin to read in the mornin huh? c o o o l - hows this one.

you know that dude that was in the shower with me and ross this mornin. well hes turned out to be a total fuckwit.

at recess hes standin with what must be his friends and he shouts across the quad - HEY GAYBOY - to me. so i go up to him and say - say what? so he says to me - do you show your ring to everybody or is it just ross that you fancy - so him and his mates start laughin and then he says - youre a fuckin faggot.

by this time theres a fuckin crowd standin around and this fuck is callin me a faggot in front of the whole school. anyway ross heard what he said so he comes behind me and whispers to me to sort the fucker out cos nobody will see anythin. so anyway this dude is still laughin and i fuckin laid into him. what the fuck it was only a one two and he was on his fuckin back wipin the blood from his mouth and nose. i could see then that he was rarin to go at me but his mates stopped him. the teacher monitor came up to find out what was goin on but ross just said that the dude had tripped and hurt himself.

and you know what - i feel fuckin good about it. i know i shouldnt - but i do. i felt like givin that fucker a hidin and wouldve if his mates hadnt butted in.

anyway ross spoke to me afterwards and he said he would pull the dude offa the swim team - i told him not to - cos he got what was comin to him and it should be left at that. he just needs to learn that the guys in the team do exactly the sorta thing i did - fuck darren used to jack off in the shower if he was horny - and it didnt matter if there were peeps around. and when were ridin on tour [in a bus] the guys always brown eye the peeps in passin cars or in towns we go thru.

maybe i overreacted but i still feel fuckin good. and ill tellya somethin else - hurtin him actually made me fuckin horny. maybe its just that im gettin sexually frustrated or somethin.

anyway weve got another swim session this arvie. ill ignore the dude. im a fuckin lover not a fighter - i just hope that im not gonna become one of those stupid guys that enjoy beatin up on people.

so there - you wanted somethin to read in the mornin.

OUCH! my hand hurts like fuck.

Copyright 2000 All rights reserved. mrbstories


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