When I saw Kyle the next day in his yard, he looked as though he was seriously pissed about something.
"You fucking bet I am, Wingnut. Our bio teacher has given us an assignment. Can you believe it? Like just a couple of days before the exams? Anyway, if my folks find out, I'm gonna be grounded for the whole fucking weekend -- no surfing."
"Jeez, I'm sorry to hear about that, Kyle. Hey! I looked totally awesome in my rugger gear with all the mud and stuff last night. I checked myself out in the mirror before mom saw me!" My attempt to lighten him up failed miserably. "Anyway, I came here to show you something really important."
"K, so show me."
"Not out here. It's private."
So I followed Kyle into his room. "OK. What's so damn important?"
I pulled my shorts down to my knees and pointed at my dick. "Check this out."
"So, you've gotta cool dick. I've seen it before."
"If I look any harder, I will be harder!"
"Are you serious? Does looking at my dick get you hard?"
"No, you weren't! I can tell!"
"Shuddup and tell me what's so damn fucking important!"
Kyle bent down and studied my crotch. "OK, so it's a bit bigger. That's normal."
"No! Look here!"
Kyle's nose was practically touching my knob when he raised his eyebrows to full height. "Whoa! A pube! You've got a pube!"
"Yeah. Pretty neat, huh?" I grinned, bursting with pride, then pulled my shorts back up.
"Well, that stuff is gonna grow like weed now, dude. Lemme see it again."
I sent my shorts down to my knees once more. "Ouch! Fuck!"
Kyle handed me the tiny, black pube after he'd plucked it. "Here, bud, it's yours to keep."
"Shit, that hurt! And now I'm gonna have to wait ages for another one!
"Nope," he smiled, "you'll have a few next week, I reckon."
"Rad! That's gonna be so damn cool! I'll be able to hang my boardies off my hips and show a bit of bush like you and Steve do -- that is, when you wusses are not wearing wetsuits."
Then we chatted about the surf which had been totally awesome that day, but which we'd missed 'cause of homework and studying for exams. We sat on the side of Kyle's bed and browsed through a local surf mag called "Zig Zag". When we got to the poster in the center, he loosened the staples and handed it to me. "It's yours, bud."
"Really? I can have this? Wicked! I'm getting a whole collection on my bedroom wall now. It looks totally kiff!"
"I wish I could find a couple of River Phoenix and Keanu Reeves."
"You like those dudes?"
"Sure! They're fucking cool actors, and I just like the way they look -- like sexy."
"Hey! Dammit! I'm sexy! If I gave you a poster of me, would you put it up on your wall?"
"Depends. If you were in the green room or whatever, I would. But not if you were just standing there with your boardies hanging off your dick. My folks might think..." he trailed off.
"Nothing. Hey, I've still got a stack of homework for that fucking bio assignment. I'll catch you later, Wingnut. OK?"
Back in my own room, I put my first pube in the top drawer with my undies and socks, then inspected my crotch. Nope, not another pube in sight. Not even a fucking sign! Where did the little fuckers hide? And what did Kyle mean by a poster of me with my boardies hanging off my dick making his folks think something? That I was sexy? Dammit, I was sexy! Just as fucking sexy as River Pheonix or Keanu Reeves. So if he could have posters of those dudes on his wall, why not one of me? It was impossible, though. My folks didn't have a camera, and either did Kyle's. Dammit.
A few days later, Kyle came home with a button missing from his school blazer. He'd been in a fight -- again! I didn't mind a fight either, but it was obvious that Kyle's folks were mad at him, so he'd been grounded. There was something else bugging him, though. Steve hadn't been around as much as he usually was, so I guessed that they were having some kinda disagreement. Whatever it was about, there was no way that Kyle was gonna tell me. He mostly kept stuff like that to himself. All I could manage to sus out was that Kyle's buds, including Steve, had gone clubbing and had made other plans that didn't include him.
When I did see Kyle again on the weekend, he was in a shitty mood. I was in my boardies with my stick under my arm all ready to go surfing, but he wasn't interested. Whatever was bugging him was pretty serious. I'd never seen him so damn pissed before, and it kinda hurt me to have him treat me in such an unfriendly, offhanded way.
The surf was OK and I had a pretty rad time with some of my friends, but it just wasn't the same without Kyle and Steve. When I got home, I figured maybe my mom could help me to understand what was getting up Kyle's nose.
"If he's been grounded, then his parents must have a good reason."
"But Steve, Mark and the other guys are allowed to go clubbing, and Kyle's older than Steve."
"Not all parents have the same rules."
"I'm not suggesting that Steve's or Mark's folks don't care, but what I am saying is that Kyle's do." She picked up the daily paper from the kitchen bench. "You've only got to read the news to see what happens in our city on a regular basis -- teens who've overdosed on drugs, hurt in accidents or killed in fights, or even shot in drive-by shootings. Can you blame Kyle's parents for worrying about their son's safety?"
"I guess not. But grounding him isn't gonna help. I mean, are they gonna ground him for the rest of his life so he lives to be a hundred without so much as a f... uh, damn scratch?"
There was another question that I wanted to ask mom, but there was no way I could without starting World War Three. I'd have to try to figure out the answer for myself. Why did Kyle get hard when he looked at my dick? I mean, I got hard looking at his, so what was the big fucking deal? It's just that Kyle sometimes gave me the impression that he had a serious case of the guilts about getting a boner when we were together. He would always leave it to me to start the ball rolling, as though he was afraid of me or something -- or maybe himself. So what was I gonna do? Tell him to fuck off? No fucking way! He was my best bud and I loved him like a big bro. He ruled.
Anyway, I was never gonna be able to figure out all the answers 'cause there was a lot about Kyle I didn't know. Sure, we'd talk our hind legs off about all kinds of stuff, but I always got the feeling that there were some things that he kept hidden behind that cheeky grin of his. I was gonna have to work on getting his confidence, even though I wasn't sure how to go about it.
It was quite a few days before Kyle had chilled enough to ask me if I wanted to go surfing with him and Steve. "Do I? You fucking betcha!" I was totally stoked to be back in the water at last with my two fav dudes. Whatever probs Steve and Kyle had had must've been solved, 'cause they were both raving and having a way cool time. At one stage, when we were sitting on our boards out the back waiting for a set, Kyle was telling Steve about my first pube, and how he'd plucked it. So I immediately pulled my boardies down and showed Steve my 'bush'. OK, so it was only three pubes, but a guy had to start somewhere. As soon as Kyle paddled toward me, though, I pulled my shorts back up again. No fucking way was that evil, spiky-haired fucker gonna rob me of my brand new curlies! No fucking way!
Back home, I waited for Steve to leave before I hopped the fence and went to Kyle's room. "Hey, bro, I just wanted you to know that it was fucking wicked being with you guys again and having a rave time. Can we do it again this Wednesday? It's a holiday!"
"Sure, Wingnut. No prob."
"And can I sleep over again this Friday? That'd be so cool!"
"I slept over at Brian's the other night and we were comparing pubes. His are growing like crazy, so please don't pull any more out. OK?" I gave him my big, sad-eyed look. "We're having a competition."
"He is -- but I've gotta bigger dick."
"No question about that, dude."
I beamed big time when Kyle said that about my dick. I was pretty proud of the damn thing, and it always felt good to be complimented, especially by a guy like Kyle whose dick was the bomb. "You going out clubbing with the guys this weekend?"
"I guess your folks kinda worry about you, huh?"
"Too damn much, if you ask me."
"Anyway, I've got a rugger match on tomorrow, so I'm gonna be late for the surf."
When I did arrive the next day, Kyle asked me a bunch of stuff about what Brian and I did when I slept over. "We watch vids -- but only kid's stuff. Brian's folks won't let him watch horror movies like you do."
"You should hire surf movies like Big Wednesday and Biggest Wednesday. They're totally hot. They're like 60s, and the music rocks big time."
Later, we joined Steve who was sitting on the beach chatting to some chick. Kyle told me later that she was some bird who Steve had fucked in the back of Ross's dad's car the other night after clubbing. Anyway, I joined in the convo and thought the chick was pretty cool. She had awesome knockers that I could've buried myself between and been lost for weeks. Then, on the walk back to Kyle's house, I decided to ask some more questions.
"How old were you when you first did it with a girl?"
"How was it?" He didn't answer, but just smiled. "That good, huh?" He remained silent, which made me a little aggro. "Well, dammit, I'm going on fucking twelve and I wanna know what it's like to stick your dick into a girl's pisshole! What does it feel like?" He still didn't answer, but just kept smiling. Damn! "OK, tell me this. Have you ever had a blow job?"
"How old were you then?"
"First time? About your age."
"Fuck! How old was she?"
"Maybe fourteen or fifteen."
"Woohoo! An older woman!" I cracked.
That night in my room, I tried to imagine my fist as a pair of lips. Nah. Impossible. Then I laid on my back on the bed and brought my knees to my shoulders in an attempt to suck my own cock. Nah. That was no good either 'cause I couldn't get my lips over my knob, let alone down my shaft. So what did lips feel like? Or a tongue? Whoa! I had to find out!
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