With winter coming on, there was an ice-cold mist over Cape Town. It cleared up later in the day, but the temp stayed pretty low. The great thing, though, was that the surf was really rocking at the local. One afternoon after school, I was out surfing with Kyle 'til late. It was really cooking... not mush... but really bitching clean sets. We were raving... well, I was raving while my big bro was surfing. It was just so damn awesome! There was no sitting on our sticks waiting for the next set like some shag on a rock. Each time we paddled out, we were on the next ride as quick as a flash. We were totally fucked by the end of the session, though. While I was standing under the cold-water shower on the beach, I just couldn't contain myself a second longer, so I screamed my lungs out. "Aaaaagggghhhhh!!!!!"
"What the fuck was that for?" my puzzled bro asked as he peeled off his wettie.
"That's how I'm feeling! Stoked! Stoked! Stoked!"
We were both blue with cold as we walked home with our sticks under our arms. It was so damn freezing, my feet felt like lumps of wood as they trod the icy ground. But it was one of those way cool feelings where the cold didn't matter anyway. We'd had one of the best sessions I could ever remember. Thrill after thrill after thrill. Even now, the adrenalin was still pumping.
"You checking me out again?" I cracked.
"Yeah... it's cool to watch your muscles jiving with the cold. You've got a rad bod, Wingnut."
"That's what... well, Jason told me that some of the guys on the team talk about it."
"Remember that pic of your dad you showed me when he was younger? The one of him at school in Speedos? He must've driven the girls crazy. Total hunk. Muscles in all the right places. And, judging by the package in his Speedos, it's pretty obvious where you inherited your furniture from... as well as your muscles."
"Different now, though. He's got a paunch, not to mention a lot more face to wash," I laughed. "I wonder what happens to older guys?"
"They get lazy, I guess. Maybe he figures it doesn't matter anymore 'cause he doesn't need to attract the girls. He's married."
"I'm proud of my dad, but there's no way I'm gonna get a paunch or a double chin when I'm older. Fuck that. I wanna stay the way I am... well, like you are... and Steve and Mark. How's Conan doing, by the way?"
"He's enjoying Joburg, and working on the boat. Says he's going down to Durban soon to crew a yacht. They're gonna sail around to Cape Town. It'd be totally cool to see him again. I miss the fucker."
When Brian and I started fooling around with each other's bods, it seemed like a pretty natural thing to do. Then Kyle and I got into jacking each other, and even blowing each other. And now Jason was on the scene as well. Was I gay? Were we all gay? I didn't feel gay. Hell, I'd just been surfing the best surf in ages, and there was nothing wussy about that. There was nothing wussy about Kyle, either, or Jason. So what was it all about? Were all guys secretly like us? That was a question I wanted to ask Kyle, but I didn't quite know how to phrase it. We'd never used the word "gay" when we were touching each other, or jacking each other. It wasn't like we were queer or anything. At least, that's not the way I saw it. For me, it was just a natural progression thingy. You liked a guy, you became buds, and one thing led to another. What could be more natural than that? It wasn't like we'd been forced into anything. But I still couldn't shake the feeling that somehow Kyle, Jason, Brian and I were different. None of the guys at school ever talked about doing stuff with their buds, including me. Were they like me? Not willing to admit it? I guessed I'd never really know.
"How's it going with Steph?"
"We're going over a little hill at the moment... need to sort a few things out."
"Sorry... didn't mean to pry."
"That's cool, bro. She was at Carol's place, and Carol caught Shane kissing her."
"Carol's new boyfriend?"
"Yeah, he's a prick. Steph says that he came onto her, but Carol believes Shane 'cause he says that Steph came onto him. Fuck, Wingnut. I know what Steph's like, and I still think about that time she and Steve got together, but at the same time I'm still convincing myself that Steph and I have a really good relationship going."
"She thinks you rock. I know she does."
"Thanks, buddy. Anyway, Carol phoned me about it and went totally off at me. I eventually told her to keep a fucking chain on her boyfriend before I do. So she says why don't I just tell Shane myself. She's itching for the two of us to mix it. She's fucking changed since Mark left for Joburg, and I'm sure that the Shane Mark thought was so cool is not the same fucker she's going out with now."
"Mark knows Shane?"
"Yeah... and Carol knew him before she started going out with Mark. As soon as Mark was out of the picture, Shane filled the vacuum in a second. He's an aggro fucker according to Mark. Mark told me not to mix it with Shane 'cause Shane's a street fighter... boots and all."
"You could take him, Kyle."
"That's not the point, Wingnut. That asshole's got the aggro to do some serious damage. If you'd ever been on the wrong end of an eighteen-year-old fist, you'd understand."
"It's weird how guys fight. I never thought Jason and I could be friends, but we are. And you and Craig get along pretty well. Jeez, I remember how you and Mark started out. You hated each other."
"Maybe it's a pecking order thingy... like sizing each other up to see who's who. It didn't happen with you and me 'cause you were a grommet. How's it going with Candy?"
I didn't really wanna talk about Candy... not after what happened on the swim tour. The girls Jason and I fucked weren't... well, they were sluts. No way would Candy do what those girls did. She wasn't the type to get it on with a couple of strangers. Hell, it'd taken me practically a whole fucking lifetime just to get her to put her hand down my pants! Truth was, I was feeling a bit guilty about fucking a girl I didn't even know, even though it seemed totally cool at the time.
"Do you think you'll ever tell Steph about your first time... you and Paul with those two sluts?"
"Nope. No point. That's history. Besides, I don't wanna know everything Steph's done, either."
"Guess not. Do you wish it had never happened?"
"Hey, it happened. No point in wishing it hadn't. There's a stack of stuff I'm not too proud of."
"Whatever. It doesn't matter. Not every day's gonna be perfect, Wingnut. I guess you've gotta take the good with the bad. But you don't wanna be carrying the bad baggage around with you for the rest of your fucking life. Know what I mean? You just put it behind you and move on."
By the end of the week, it was cloudy and cold. We figured we could be in for more rain over the weekend. But that also meant that the cold front would bring in the swell. That was the kinda neato stuff I'd learned from Kyle while we were working on my geography homework.
There were a bunch of surfers waiting for the big one at a place called "Dungeons", where waves could reach well over twenty feet. Whoa! That'd be like sliding down the face of a two to three-story building! The surfers had been waiting for about two weeks for the cold front to bring in the swell. But there was only one more week to go before the deadline, which meant the comp would be cancelled if the conditions weren't right. In that case, they'd have to wait 'til next year. Meantime, everybody was checking out the web site where a guy called "Spike" was doing the surf reports. He was a total hoot! And there was a link there to the Red Bull Big Wave Africa Comp at Dungeons. Some really hectic surf pics there. http://www.wavescape.co.za/
"Hey, dad, can we talk?"
Dad folded his newspaper, looked over the top of his reading glasses, and raised his eyebrows. "What is it this time?"
"Well, you've been around a bit, so I figured you'd know if women are smarter than men."
"There are two answers to that question, son, depending on whether or not your mother is present."
"She's not here. She's in the laundry doing the washing."
"It's not an easy question to answer. Man invented the washing machine, so that makes him smart. Right?"
"But why did he invent the washing machine? To make life easier for him?"
"So who's smarter?"
"Yeah... I see what you mean. Women get the guys to do stuff for them. Is that it?"
"The other morning, I was watching two birds on the back lawn. They're a pair, nesting for the coming Spring. Anyway, one of them spotted a piece of bread and began to peck at it. In a flash, the other bird rushed over, grabbed the piece of bread, and ran a short distance away. I knew right there and then who the female was... it was the first bird. The second bird, being the dominant male, stole the piece of bread for himself. Well, the female watched the male for some seconds wondering what to do about her stolen piece of bread. Then she formed a plan. She ran to within about a foot of the male, and just stood there, watching him peck at the bread. It made him feel uncomfortable, so he grabbed the bread in his beak and ran further away. In his haste, he'd left a few crumbs on the lawn, which the female ate. After she'd eaten, she ran over to him a second time. A few moments later, he grabbed the bread again and put a couple of yards between him and his spouse. Sure enough, he'd dropped some more crumbs in the process, which the female was happy to eat. This happened several times... the male dropping crumbs in his attempts to move away, and the female eating them after he'd fled. Finally, the male became frustrated with the whole situation, and flew up onto the roof of the house. The same thing happened there. She pestered him, then ate the crumbs he left behind. Meantime, he'd gone back to the lawn, only to move again when she landed about a foot away."
"And she ate more crumbs?"
"Yep. In the end, it seemed to me that she got more of the bread than he did. Why? Because she kept making him feel guilty about stealing her bread."
"So women are smarter than men?"
"Men are smarter than women," mom announced with a grin as she entered the room. "At least, that's what women prefer men to think."
"But that doesn't answer my question!"
"Yes it does," dad smiled. "Yes it does."
Back in my room, I wondered again about what had happened on the swim tour. There were moments that were indelibly imprinted on my mind, such as the sight of those two girls and Jason -- their faces all gathered around my crotch, kissing, licking and eating my hard meat. I figured nothing like that could ever happen to me again. It was just too fucking incredible. And everytime I thought about that stuff, I got a skin-splitting woody. I must've jacked off a million times thinking about that night. But what I couldn't really understand was why Jason and I turned each other on. Or why Kyle and I turned each other on. For that matter, why the girls turned each other on. Had my parents ever experienced anything like that? If they had, I figured there was no way they'd ever talk about it.
For some moments, I studied my face in the mirror. I was looking for something that might gimme a hint that I was gay, or maybe a little bit gay. But I couldn't see anything. Nothing unusual at all. There was nothing obviously gay about Kyle or Jason either. All three of us were into girls big time. So what was it all about?
I laid on my back on my bed and stared at the ceiling. "If this kinda stuff was normal," I said to myself, "they'd teach us about it at school. It would be part of sex education. So why wasn't it?"
"Wingnut, I want you to come to the front of the class and tell us all about your first sexual encounter with a girl... the day you lost your virginity."
Copyright © 2001 All rights reserved. mrbstories