South Africa
Part 3

Later that afternoon, we all went to the beach. Steve was determined to teach me a few tricks. Kyle lent me his board and I paddled out with Steve.

"Hey, dude, you paddle like a fucking crab! Watch me, OK?"

Well, I watched him, but not just to see how he paddled. Steve had a stack of grace and style. No wonder the groupies wet their beavers just ogling him. There was something about the dude that was so damn special -- his body moved as though all his muscles were part of a symphony orchestra being conducted by a maestro. Everything was in tune. Every move was perfectly timed. His rhythm was faultless. And his long, blonde hair gave him a kind of god-like appearance.

Pretty soon, I began to get the knack of paddling correctly, then standing on the board. I didn't do anything too stylish, though -- just rode as many waves as I could. Back on the beach, Steve and Kyle were raving. "Wow, dude, you really got the hang of it so damn fast! You rocked! We're impressed, li'l grommet!"

I felt so fucking chuffed, but I shrugged off the compliments. "Yeah, well I guess I'm lucky to be a natural." I didn't wanna appear too cocky -- yet.

"Hey, Wingnut, you were also pretty natural in the pool today," Kyle laughed.

"I wasn't the only one, dude! Anyway, what did you think?"

"About what?" Kyle and Steve glanced at one another.

"Did I ask a dumb question? Sorry, guys."

"No, Wingnut, it wasn't a dumb question. It's just that… now don't you go getting a big head, OK? But you looked pretty hot for a grommet."

"You mean like sexy?"

"Let's change the subject, OK?"

"No, dammit! I wanna know! I saw you guys looking at me in the pool but I thought it was 'cause I don't have any pubes yet. Not even a damn smudge."

"OK, OK, I'll tell you. Then we drop the subject. OK? You look pretty hunky for a grommet -- you've got a solid build for a dude your age, and it's cool how your semi sticks almost straight out."

That afternoon, Kyle managed to borrow a stick from one of his friends, and the three of us had a totally rad time enjoying the sun and the surf for the rest of the day. I was getting better all the time, and I could hear the guys yelling and screaming encouragement every time I rode a wave without falling off.

After dinner, I phoned Kyle to ask if I could come over. "Sorry, Wingnut, Steve's here and we're kinda…"

Damn! "Yeah, yeah, Kyle, I know… big guy stuff. See ya tomorrow, OK?"

"Mom, do you think I'm sexy?"

"What on earth…???"

"Well, Kyle and Steve are way sexy. All the group... I mean girls on the beach think they're totally cool, and I wanna be like them. So, am I sexy?"

"I think you're gorgeous."

"Puke! I don’t wanna be f… gorgeous! I wanna be sexy like Kyle and Steve!"

"Were you about to cuss just then?"

"No," I lied, and gave mom my 'big guy' look. "Well?"

"Well, I suppose if I were a young girl I'd think you were sexy, yes."


It was hard trying to concentrate on my homework 'cause I kept looking at my reflection in the mirror. What did Kyle mean when he said it was cool how my semi stuck straight out? Did he like it? Brian liked it and was always wanting to play with it. One time he asked me if he could suck it but I said I wasn't sure. Anyway, I stood there checking out my boner and the rest of my bod. Yeah, pretty cool. When I got a chance, I was gonna have to get nude in Kyle's room and ask him exactly what he thought.

"Hi, Kyle, what d'ya think of my woodie?" Nah, sounded too wussy. "Hey, Kyle, I'm going on twelve, right? Check this out!" Nah, he'd laugh. "Hey, Kyle. Got a tape measure?" Nah. Oh, well, I'd think of something.

We didn't go surfing for a few days, but I got to swim nude in Kyle's pool with him and Steve. Those guys were so damn excellent, and it was rad fun just to fool around and wrestle with them. I was dying to ask Kyle about my bod -- I mean, what he REALLY thought about it -- but it seemed such a lamo question that I never managed to pluck up the courage. It wasn't like they'd asked me what I thought about theirs. But, if they had, I would've told them they were way cool. And they were. Kyle had a swimmer's body, with broad shoulders, big pecs and strong back muscles. Steve was built like a brick shithouse. His best features were his legs and his flat stomach which had a deep, vertical groove between his abs. And I loved his long hair. It was wild just like he was. Blonde on top, brown around his dick. Kyle's hair was as black as the Ace of Spades, but he didn't have all that much on his body, just a spiky mop on top, a tuft under each armpit, and a bush above his six-inch semi.

I also wanted to ask Steve about his dick. It wasn't cut like mine or Kyle's. It had a foreskin. I'd seen some of the guys in the school swim team who had dicks like Steve's -- except theirs were weenies. Steve's was bigger, but not as big as Kyle's. I was hoping that Steve would get a boner so that I could see his pink knob poke all the way out like a one-eyed tortoise. "Hi ya, everybody." But it never did. Maybe one day.

On the Friday, we went surfing again. It was a rave session but I knew that there was something bugging Kyle. I tried to cheer him up by being funny. We were sitting out the back waiting for a set when I told the guys about this friend I had a fight with. "So this kid says to me that my dad is a wuss. So I say, yeah, that's 'cause your mom is more butch than my dad." Well, it must've been funny 'cause both Kyle and Steve cracked up something wicked.

Saturday, I knew Kyle wasn't his normal self. He hadn't invited me to go surfing, and he didn't get back until late afternoon. I was watching for him all day and, when he finally arrived home, I was over the fence in a flash. "Hey, Kyle! Can I swim in the pool?" His face lit up, so he was glad to see me.

"Sure, Wingnut."

I stripped and dove in.

"Hey! What about your Speedos?"

Oops! I'd blown it, and I felt the rush of hot blood to my face. "I thought your folks weren't home! And, anyway..."

"It's cool, dude. They're out. Besides, I know you run around nude most of the time at your house. Forget I said anything. OK?"

"Cool!" Whew! I was glad he wasn't mad at me. That was the one thing that worried me so damn much -- getting Kyle off-side. I desperately wanted him to be my friend and to like me. But why the sudden concern about my being nude? We'd all been nude tons of times. "How come you're wearing Speedos?"

"So you can't see my dick."

"Is it hard?"


I tackled Kyle and wrestled him in the pool for ages -- partly 'cause it was rad fun and we were both giggling like hell, and partly 'cause I was hoping to see his boner. "Does it get very big?" He didn't answer, but I knew that when our bodies were locked together in a hold, he was enjoying it. So was I, and I had a woodie to prove it. Kyle didn't say anything about it, though. A couple of times I felt the hard bulge in his Speedos press against my butt or thighs, but I didn't mention it either.

"Time's up, Wingnut. I've gotta go out."

"Where? Can I come?"

"Nope, it's a party. All the guys in the swim team are gonna strip for the girls."


"Only down to their Speedos, though."

"I wanna come!"

"You can't dude, you're…"

"Going on fucking twelve. Yeah, tell me about it. Anyway, what was bugging you yesterday and today? Was it my fault? I wanna know if it was."

"OK, let's get one thing straight, Wingnut. You're a fucking ray of sunshine around here. OK? When your face beams, it's like you light up my whole fucking world. So it's not your fault. Actually, it's nobody's fault. It's just that Steve's girlfriend got back from vacation today."


"She takes up all his time, and she's possessive. She thinks I wanna steal him away from her or something. And he's got this thing about… Never mind. You wouldn't understand."

"Yes, I would."

"Trust me, you wouldn't. Anyway, bud, I've gotta get dressed and get to this party somehow. I was hoping that Steve's friend would gimme a lift, but it looks like I've gotta hitch a ride -- and it's way outa town in a barn on a farm. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. OK?"


"And we'll go for a surf. I promise."

"Are you gonna strip in front of the girls, too?"



I spent most of my time in my room that night. I was too pissed off to watch TV with my folks or do anything else. Being almost twelve sucked big time. I wanted to be with Kyle and Steve, and do all the wicked stuff they did.

"Mom? Do you know much about girls?"

"Well, a little," she laughed.

"If Brian had a girlfriend, would I get jealous?"

"Perhaps. Has Brian got a girlfriend?"

"Nah, girls are a pain in the … butt. Not like you, though. You're not a girl. You're a mom. But you know what I mean. So let's say Brian did have a girlfriend. Why would I be jealous?"

"Well, in my experience, boys like the company of other boys until … well, until they get to a stage where they take an interest in girls. And, suddenly, they prefer to be with the girls, or one particular girl."

"So, Brian would hang with his girlfriend and he wouldn't talk to me anymore?"

"Perhaps. But if you also had a girlfriend, the four of you could be friends."

"What if I didn't have a girlfriend?"

"Then you'd be left out of the picture."

I thought about what mom had said and figured that I didn't want Kyle to have a girlfriend. If he did, he'd be spending all his fucking time with her and he wouldn't have time to teach me how to surf. In any case, I… hmmm... loved him? Well, sorta. Like a big bro. But it also felt way cool to wrestle with him in the pool when I was naked. There was something awesome about our skin touching. I even got a woodie.


"Yes, son."

"Did you have a total bestest, bestest bud when you were going on twelve?"

"Bobby Anderson. Well, how about that? I even remember his name. Yep, we were as close as any two guys could get. We were as thick as thieves until our late teens."

"So how come he's still not your bestest, bestest bud?"

"Things change, son. I met your mother."

"Was Bobby jealous?"

"Absolutely. He felt alienated, shunned, cast off."

"What happened?"

"We had a fight. I never saw him again after that."

"Do you miss him?"

"Go finish your homework, son."

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 Wingnut Part 4