South Africa
Part 1


Once again, I've written this story from Kyle's point of view rather than Wingnut's or Mark's to prevent duplication. MrB

SATURDAY

Mark arrived late afternoon on the day before we were due to depart for the holiday. Both he and Wingnut would sleep over so that we could get an early start the following morning. Mark was looking totally hunky in an open-neck, short-sleeve, button-up shirt, and his Levis. The top few buttons of the shirt were undone, and revealed sufficient, smooth skin that followed the sexy contours of his well-muscled chest to make me helluva horny. I watched the muscles of his forearm ripple as he lifted his rucksack, then dumped it on my bed.

"How's it, Kyle? I can't wait to hit the road tomorrow."

He smiled at me, and was probably aware that his smile was sending major signals to my crotch. That guy's smile was to fucking die for, and in complete contrast to the moody side of his personality. But on that Saturday afternoon, he was in a joyful mood in anticipation of the holiday, and it was written all over his handsome teen face.

The two of us helped my dad get the yard tidied before we sat down to mom's homemade burgers. That's when Wingnut arrived. The grommet must've smelled the delicious aroma of our food wafting over the fence. He was wearing a cool surfer t, cargo shorts, and had his bag slung over his shoulder.

"Your nose is working OK," my dad grinned. "Your timing is perfect."

"Smells great!" Wingnut enthused as he dropped his bag on the grass, then turned to Mark. "How's it, Conan?"

"Just remember one thing," Mark warned, "there'll be no place to run or hide once we're at the holiday park."

"Yeah, but I've got Kyle's dad on my side."

"Leave me out of your fights," my dad smiled as he grabbed his plate, and rose from the table. "I don't have the energy to keep up with you kids."

"C'mon, Mr T, you can't leave me alone with these bullies!"

Some moments later, Mark and I staggered into the kitchen, holding our stomachs, and cracking up like crazy. "What are you guys laughing at?" my dad asked with a puzzled expression. There was no way that Mark or I could answer 'cause we were laughing way too much. Then my dad heard Wingnut's voice coming from the yard.

"I need a towel!" the grommet shouted.

My dad studied our guilt ridden faces. "You didn't?... Did you?"

Yep, we did. Right after Wingnut had called us bullies, we grabbed the leather belt on his shorts, and tossed him into the pool.

"Kyle!" Mom scolded after hearing what I'd confessed to dad, "now what's he supposed to wear?"

"C'mon, mom, it's no biggie. He can wear one of my old trackies."

"I hope you and Mark aren't going to bully him all through the holiday."

By this time, a drowned and dripping Wingnut had arrived in the kitchen with a towel wrapped around his waist. "Tell them, Mrs T!"

"Only half of it," Mark smiled at the grommet.

"Anyway," I said as I pulled the towel off my little bud, "he's so damn tiny, he doesn't need any clothes."

"Kyle!" It was clear that my mom had more to say about the matter, but she was forced to leave the room before bursting into laughter at the sight of Wingnut's hands covering his dick, and his obvious embarrassment.

I couldn't figure why the hell he'd turned brilliant scarlet, though. He was one of the best slung little dude's I'd ever seen… in the showers, of course. Even most of the nudie models on the net couldn't have held a candle to my little bud's whopper. Then I flicked the towel in a whipping motion, and just missed his dick.

"Stop it Kyle, before I start cussing, and get into crap with your folks 'cause of you!"

'Cause of the early start next morning, we all turned in quite early. Mark was in the shower as I closed the door to my room, while Wingnut, naked as usual, climbed under the covers of one of the spare mattresses placed on opposite sides of my bed.

"Hey, Kyle, I don't suppose we're gonna jack off with Conan around."

"You're looking for shit, bro. Stop calling him that before he clouts you."

"I'm only kidding. I dig Mark a stack."

"And no… you know we can't jack with Mark around… or anyone else around."

"Just checking. I need a jack, though, so I'm gonna wait until you guys are asleep."

"Why don't you just go to the can and jack there?"

"'Cause it's not the same. Sitting on the can's not like being in bed."

"Here," I said as I passed him a wad of toilet paper, "don't get your damn cum all over the sleeping bag."

Just then, Mark walked into the room, with a towel secured around his waist. He faced away from us while he stepped into his boxers.

"You sleep with boxers on?" the grommet asked.

"Yeah." Mark turned and glared at the kid. "What about it?"

"Nothing. Just checking. Jeez."

I had to laugh at Wingnut's sudden retreat. He was obviously worried about making Mark angry, just in case he copped a smack. Meantime, Mark was well aware of the fact that I was staring at him. His boxers were the shorts-type Jockeys, with the leg bands stretching to accommodate his muscular thighs, and his more than adequate furniture pushing out a nice bulge at the crotch. He smiled that smile again, dammit, as he got under the covers of the second spare mattress.

"'Night, Kyle."

"'Night, buddy."

I undressed down to my birthday suit… I always slept naked 'cause I hated clothing most of the time. To me, skin was nature's perfect clothing. Then I climbed under the covers, and turned off the bedside lamp.

I laid there in the darkness for ages waiting for Wingnut to jack off. It was Mark's deep breathing as he slept that I heard first. When I was satisfied that Mark was well and truly in the land of nod, I rolled over to the edge of my bed that was closest to Wingnut's mattress, and rested my hand on the sleeping bag. As it happened, my little bud was still awake. He pulled the bag down, grabbed my hand, and placed it on his boner. It was rock-hard, and standing away from his muscled stomach.

Then I ran my fingers over his tight abs, which felt totally wicked. His skin was silky smooth, and his muscles were covered by a thin layer of puppy fat. His pubes felt a bit weird, though… still kinda prickly after his initiation shave.

The moment I ran my fingers lightly over the underside of his woody, I heard him catch his breath.

"Hey, Kyle," he whispered.

"What?"

He sat up in his sleeping bag, obviously worried about making too much noise, and waking Mark, then leaned toward my ear. "Can you jack me? Please?"

"Only if you're gonna be quiet."

"Cool."

He laid back as I wrapped my fist around his hard woody, which was slippery from pre-cum. For a little guy, my bud was like a damn cum factory. His whole body stiffened as I slid my hand using a fluid motion up and down his shaft. He was controlling himself well, though… it seemed like forever before his cock finally bucked in my hand, and he thrust his hips forward.

In the darkness, I felt his throbber jerk violently with each explosion of boy juice. I slowed my jacking motion for a while, then removed my hand from his still-hard dick. I scooped a little of the juice from his stomach on the tip of my finger, laid back on my pillow, then slowly placed my finger between my lips to savor the taste of my little friend. It was fucking delicious.

The last thing I remembered before falling asleep was Wingnut getting up to go to the bathroom, obviously to clean himself.

SUNDAY

Next morning, I woke to the sound of the shower in the next room. It had to be Wingnut 'cause both beds were empty, and it was Mark who entered my room carrying two cups of coffee. He was already dressed in boardies and a loose vest [singlet], which hung away from his pecs, accentuating the horny contours of his magnificent chest.

"Cover that thing before I come near you," he ordered, eyeing my piss boner.

I was still too sleepy to have noticed my hard monster with its string of pre-cum attached to my belly, and also way too sleepy to bother arguing. So I pulled the covers over my dick as Mark placed the steaming coffees on the bedside table.

"How come you're up so early," I mumbled.

"Too excited to sleep. Anyway, it was cool 'cause I helped your dad pack the Kombi."

"Packed already?"

"Yeah… we were gonna leave your slack ass behind, but your mom protested. She said she couldn't leave her little baby to fend for himself."

Cheeky bastard. Anyway, I pushed the covers away, then sat up on the edge of the bed. My boner was digging into my stomach, which caused Mark to shake his head, so I pulled the cover back over my dick. "There. Are you fucking happy now?"

At that moment, Wingnut strode into the room with a towel wrapped around his narrow waist, only to be told by Mark that he'd better get his ass into gear 'cause my dad wanted to hit the road early.

"What about my clothes?"

"Mrs T tumble-dried them for you."

"Should've stuck you in there, too!"

Meantime, I took a quick shower, then dressed in boardies and a t.

The wind was blowing like crazy, and it was still dark, as the Kombi headed off toward our next adventure. Wingnut had the back bench to himself, while Mark and I sat on the middle one. Mom and dad were up front in the two bucket seats, and dad was driving.

Before we'd travelled for half an hour, Wingnut was sound asleep. In many ways, he was a ball of brazen and irrepressible energy, but in others he was just a cute little boy… and a cuddly one at that. Mark was quiet, but I guessed it was 'cause he was enjoying the sight of the orange sun slowly rising over the mountain as we motored along the black ribbon of highway.

"Beautiful sunrise, huh?" my dad observed. "If it weren't for the wind, it would've been a great morning for a dawn patrol."

I'd mentioned to Mark before about me and my dad going on our early morning surf trips, which we called 'dawn patrols'. It was our special time to share each other's company, and I'd always tried to keep it between just the two of us. They were times when my dad wasn't a dad for a while… we were buds, just like any regular buds, enjoying the surf together.

As the miles drifted by the Kombi's side windows, mom and dad talked about the plans they'd made, but also explained that they didn't expect us guys to stick to them like glue… and that it was just as much our holiday as theirs. Yeah, right. They probably wanted their privacy just as much as we did. It was at the holiday park that they had their honeymoon, and where a certain little tadpole got together with a certain little egg, and popped out nine months later as a very little, but a very loud, Kyle.

Our first stop was for breakfast at a roadside diner, where our sleepy grommet slowly stirred back to life as the Kombi drew to a halt. As soon as he saw other teens hanging around the gas station, though, he became his usual self, flaunting the piss-boner tent in his boardies, then waving the damn thing around in the boy's room to attract the attention of other teen pissers. In the restaurant, he was puffing out his chest for the entertainment of the girls there, who seemed pretty impressed. And, hey, I didn’t blame them!

We all sat together at the one table. We guys had cheeseburgers and fries, while my folks had an English breakfast with bacon and eggs.

Back on the road, we whiled away the time by playing poker with a pack of cards. Wingnut was such a fucking cheat, the little shit! He'd hide the aces under his leg, then produce them when he needed them. "You're gonna get caught when you least expect it, grommet," Mark warned, as if he had a premonition of what was going to happen later at the holiday park.

 Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved. mrbstories


 

The Trip Part 2