When the phone rang on Saturday morning, it was Kyle asking for me. "Hey, bro, you wanna come over? I've got a stack of chores to do."
"Like the dog crap?"
"How'd you guess?"
How one dog could make such a fucking mess of the lawn was beyond me. The damn thing must've been crap all the way from its shoulders to its ass. But I cleaned it up, anyway. Then I helped out with some other chores. I guessed that if Brian or some other dude had asked me to help with their chores, I'd kick up a major stink, but it was different with Kyle. I figured I was pretty lucky to be his buddy since I was about four years younger. Besides, he'd taught me how to surf and even bought me a stick outa his savings. Picking up the dog crap was the least I could do to show my appreciation.
That afternoon, we caught up with Steve and rocked down to the beach. The surf was small but the rides were way cool. Later, Steve went to a rock concert in town, so I asked Kyle if he and I could watch some vids together. His folks had invited some friends over for dinner, but I knew that they weren't the kinda people Kyle felt comfortable with. Yep. I had that dude all figured out. I was pretty smart for a kid going on twelve.
"Hey, Kyle, my mom says it's OK to sleep over if it's OK with your folks."
"Cool. Are you gonna let your mom and dad know?"
"Nope. I already knew that your folks would say it was cool, so I told mine it was OK. My toothbrush is in my pocket."
"And your PJs?"
"Yeah, right!" I laughed. "Phooey!"
After the vids, we stayed up pretty late watching MTV before it was time to undress and hit the sack. I jumped on the bed, naked, and saw that Kyle was getting a boner. "You always do that?"
"Get a woody at night?"
"Yeah… but so do you," he smiled as he laid on the bed beside me.
I looked at my hard dick. "It's weird! I hadn't even noticed."
"Sure, Wingnut. Tell me another one."
"Hey, can I give you a hug?"
"Yeah, I guess. Why?"
Kyle pulled the covers over his dick before I threw my arms around his neck. I guessed he didn't want our woodies touching for some reason. Anyway, I hugged him as hard as I could. "Thanks."
"For what?" he grinned. "Letting you pick up the dog crap?"
"Nope. On Friday, when I went to Brian's house to go to the movies, I saw his bro Alan. His face looked like it had connected with a bus or something. So when I asked Brian what had happened, he told me that one of Alan's friends told him that you'd beaten him up. So now I know why you've got a cut on your face, too. You're the best bro any guy could have, Kyle. I love you stacks. Not like that, but like a big bro, and I wish you were."
His hazel eyes studied mine for a moment. "Yeah, well, he messed with you, didn't he."
I hugged him again, and thanked him once more, then reached under the covers until my hand found his rock-hard boner.
"Hey, Wingnut, you don't wanna do that." His protest hadn't worried me too much 'cause it didn't sound very convincing.
"It's cool doing it to you 'cause you're like my bro," I explained, then pulled back the covers to reveal his throbbing monster nestled in his bush of black pubes. As I suspected, Kyle didn't bother to stop me. In fact, he raised his arms and put his hands behind his head. Then he closed his eyes as though he was prepared to submit to my will.
I wrapped my fist around his thick, smooth shaft and stroked it gently -- this was special moment that I wanted to last as long as it could. But as I jacked him, it was impossible not to be in awe of his killer meat dwarfing my hand. "I want to have a cock like yours when I'm bigger."
"Your cock is huge already," he mumbled, eyes still closed.
"I bet the girls love doing this to you, huh? You must rip their pussies with this thing. It's so damn smooth, like hard silk." Kyle didn't respond to my remarks, so I figured conversation wasn't exactly the main thing on his mind.
When he raised his hips, it was an obvious signal that he was about to shoot his load. I increased the speed of my jacking action and watched the thick, sticky wads of boy juice explode from his swollen piss hole, then splatter all over his taut stomach and tanned chest. The sight of so much cum caused me to forget about what I was doing -- or, more correctly, overdoing.
"Hey, Wingnut!" he groaned. "Stop stroking for fuck's sake! My knob is as tender as hell!"
I reached into his bedside drawer, grabbed a stack of tissues and wiped his stomach and chest. "I just wanted to thank you."
"You didn't need to do that, Wingnut. Anybody would have done the same damn thing as I did to Alan if he'd touched their little bro."
Those last four words got me helluva excited. "Hey, you wanna do me now? Please?" I didn't wait for an answer. Hell, he might've said no! So I threw a leg over his body and planted my bare buns on his muscular chest. My boner was pointed at his face as I leaned back and supported my weight on my hands. When I felt his fist close around my shaft, I shut my eyes and enjoyed the awesome thrill of his touch. It was just so fucking wicked to have him stroke me -- so much better than doing it myself -- and even better than when Brian jacked me.
It didn't take long for the most incredibly electric feelings to stir big time in my groin. "Oh, shit!" I moaned as I felt my ass muscles squeeze and my boner become harder. I was aware of the bare skin of my buns touching his solid chest, and his fist riding my shaft, as my load exploded furiously, firing creamy missiles in all directions. After I'd jetted my last wad, I opened my eyes to see Kyle inspecting my jizz.
"You must be jacking more often, Wingnut. Your juice is getting thicker."
"You really think so? Anyway, that felt fucking awesome! Jeez! Totally wicked!"
Kyle grabbed more tissues from the drawer and cleaned my cum from his chest. "Hey, Wingnut, can I tell you something?"
"There's a lotta guys like Alan around, and they take advantage of little guys like you 'cause they think you're weak -- or they think you don't know what's right or wrong -- or they think you'll be too scared to tell anyone. I want you to be careful -- and I'll never do anything to you unless you want me to -- and, even then, it's not always OK to do it. It just depends on a whole lotta stuff."
"Like respect -- and caring."
"OK, that's cool, I'll be careful. I feel kinda sorry for Brian, though, 'cause Alan's got a real evil looking dick and I'd hate to play with that thing. It's not like yours -- all smooth and stuff."
I don't remember what happened after that. Kyle must've picked me up and placed me on the spare mattress 'cause that's where I was when I woke next morning. After showering, I had breakfast with Kyle and his folks while we waited for Steve to phone. He'd been at the rock concert the previous night and we figured he was gonna be trashed big time.
We were right. When Steve finally arrived at the beach, he was looking majorly hung over. He told us that the concert was a rave, but that they'd partied afterwards and didn't get home until 5am.
Meantime, the surf was real storm stuff and huge! The wind was blowing the tops off the waves, so we had to paddle like shit to get to each wave. While I was riding one monster, a gust of wind came outa nowhere and blew me right off my fucking board! Whoa! I was cussing like crazy but the other guys were giggling their fucking tits off. I guessed it must've looked pretty funny but, to me at the time, it sucked serious butt.
Later, when I'd popped into Kyle's room to say hi, he was looking pretty chuffed. "What happened?"
"Nothing much. A friend phoned. He's the kinda guy who's pretty hard to get to know, so when he phoned it was kinda cool."
"Yeah. Anyway, what are you doing here? I don't have any dog crap to pick up."
I laughed at his joke, then just hung in his room listening to music while he stuffed around getting his school shit together. Our winter break was over, dammit.
The next day, I'd just arrived home from rugger practice and figured I'd give Kyle a look at my uneven socks and grass stains. Besides, there was something important that I needed to ask him. "Kyle?"
I opened the door and saw him soaking in the tub. "How come you're taking a bath in the afternoon?"
"I was excused from swim practice, so I came home early. Nobody was here, and it was cold." Then he looked at the floor. "Hey, what's that shit on the fucking tiles?"
"Uh, oh." I'd forgotten about the mud on my rugger boots.
"It's probably all through the fucking house!" he roared. "Go clean it up… now!"
I felt like a total dickhead making all that mess. I guessed I was just too keen to show my bro how cool I looked after rugger practice, and didn't think about the mud. Anyway, after I'd cleaned the floors, Kyle had already towelled and returned to his room.
"Is it true?"
"Well, I went to Brian's after rugger practice and he was bragging about how Alan got back at you and beat you up. He must be lying, though, 'cause I can see that you're OK -- same old scratch."
"Well, I walked into Alan's knee at school and it kinda got me in the nuts."
"Ooo! Ouch! Can I see?"
Kyle pulled down his track pants, lifted his thick semi to one side and showed me his bruised hangers. "I thought Brian was on your side?"
"He is, but I guess I made a big deal about you beating up his bro -- so he's on my side as well as his bro's side. Maybe he's gonna cut his balls on the fence." I cracked up at my own joke, which made Kyle laugh, too, in spite of his sore nads and the pained expression on his face. "Want me to come around and keep you company? There's no surf. It's just a storm out there."
"After you've done your homework. Check with your mom."
I returned a few minutes later to tell Kyle the result. "Mom says I have to give you a break from my visits, and that I have to get stuck into homework and studying." I was glad about one thing, though -- he looked disappointed as well.
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