South Africa
Part 28

I'm very fortunate to have had the privilege of writing this chapter. All of it is true, and a demonstration that people can really be nice to each other. It's often very easy to lose faith in humanity. This chapter, for me at least, restores it. Mr.B

A few days later, I got my chance to see Steph in the surf. She was with Kyle, Steve and me, and she was styling pretty well. Naturally, I kept pulling my boardies down so that they were barely clinging to my hips, but only 'cause she kept paying attention. Not that I needed much encouragement. Kyle and Steve noticed, too, and thought it was a cool joke.

Steph was different to most girls. Not only was she a rave surfer, but she was wicked friendly, always hugging everybody, including me, and laughing. My problem was that I'd get a boner every time she hugged me. Maybe that's why she was doing it. I wasn't sure. In any case, it seemed like my dick had a mind of its own. "You're not supposed to get a boner every time Steph hugs you," Kyle would say, then laugh.

We weren't so lucky the next day after school. The surf was mush, but we still had a cool time goofing off and pushing each other off our boards. Later, Steph arrived. She was wearing a short-leg and short-arm wetsuit, which we called a 'springer'. When the guys saw her paddling out through the breakers, Kyle yelled, "Hey, Wingnut? You gonna pull your boardies down again?"

I couldn't resist the opportunity to strut my stuff. I pulled my shorts down to my knees and shouted, "Hey, Steph! Suck on this!" She was too far away to hear me, but it cracked up the guys big time.

"You wanna be careful," Steve laughed. "You're headed for a smack around the chops if you get too fucking cheeky with Steph."

I guessed he was right -- I was taking a bit of a risk. But, hey, it was only a joke. And I figured a grommet could get away with shit like that. If the bigger guys tried the same kinda stuff, they'd be taken seriously. Why was that? I wondered.

At the beach shower, I watched Steph come up behind Kyle and unzip his wettie. Then he unzipped hers. "Want me to help you outa that?" he asked, ogling her bikini top.

"Are you a tit man?"

"Yeah, pretty much -- and legs."

When it came my turn to use the shower, I was totally fucking blue. Not having a wettie definitely had its disadvantages. On the other hand, I was about to discover at least one advantage. Steph grabbed a towel and began to rub me down. "Gotta get your blood happening," she smiled. Well, she got it happening alright, but most of it had gone south. My boner was tenting my boardies big time.

On the walk home, I mentioned to Kyle that my cum was getting thicker. "How do you know?" he smirked.

"'Cause I check it out when I jack off."

"I noticed you're getting a little bush now, as well."

"You think Steph noticed, too?"

He cracked totally. "Jeez, Wingnut! Are you serious? I think the whole fucking beach crowd has noticed!"

"That noticeable, huh?"

"Only 'cause you keep drawing attention to it. You've got no fucking tact. Actually, it's more like a dark smudge above your dick -- kinda like the sun's shining from behind," he laughed.

"Well, a guy's gotta start somewhere."

For some reason, the weather had been really changeable during the week. Cold one day, hot the next. On this particular afternoon, it was damn hot -- unseasonably hot. I'd just gotten home from rugger practice when I called into Kyle's house to see if he was gonna go surfing. Steve was there as well. "You guys gonna get wet?"

"Dammit, Wingnut," Kyle cracked, "where did you find mud on a hot day? You're covered in it! Are you sure you don't smear the stuff on on purpose?"

I ignored the sarcastic fucker. "Wait for me! I'll be back in a second with my stick." Yeah, right. That was my intention, but mom had other ideas.

"Shower first, son. You're covered in mud."

"But, mooooommmm! I'm going surfing! I don't need to shower! C'mon, mom!" Well, my male logic didn't work, dammit. As I showered, I was paranoid that the guys had left without me. But, no. Thankfully, they were still waiting for me when I'd returned to Kyle's room. "Hey, how come you guys aren't wearing wetties?"

"Too hot, Wingnut. We're gonna be brave like you."

"You guys are gonna go invert," I laughed.


"Your dicks are gonna turn inside out."

"So you reckon we're not gonna handle the cold water, huh?"

"I reckon you will, but you're gonna go blue."

"By the way, we heard your convo with your mom. You've gotta learn to be more pursuasive, bro."

"With mom? Yeah, right. It doesn't work -- not even for dad."

Well, I was right about the water. The air temperature was hot, but the water was freezing. Kyle's dick had gone byebye for the whole afternoon. Mine was OK, though. For some reason, mine didn't seem to be affected by the cold. Besides, it was about the only thing that kept my boardies from falling down.

When we'd gotten back to Kyle's house, there was a phone call from Steph apologizing for not being able to make it to the beach, and that she'd had to catch up on some homework. "But she said she missed me," Kyle gloated after he'd hung up. "Cool, huh?"

"Did she miss me, too?"

"She didn't say. Anyway, take your stick home and check with your mom if it's OK to come back. Steve and I will be waiting."

Waiting? I thought as I hopped the fence. Waiting for what? Sometimes those dudes could be so fucking mysterious. "Mom? Kyle said it's OK if I hang for a while."

"Hang what?"


"Whatever happened to English?" she sighed. "Dinner's at six."

"K, mom."

A moment after I'd returned to Kyle's room, Steve blindfolded me. I immediately removed it. "What are you guys doing?" Then Steve blindfolded me again. "What's going on here?" Before I knew it, Steve was holding me while Kyle tied my hands behind my back. "What are you guys doing?" I could recognize the sound of fear in my own voice.

"Hey, buddy, it's cool. We're not gonna hurt you. Lay back on the bed."

This whole thing was way outa line. Nothing like this had ever happened before. What the fuck was going on? Were they gonna shave my pubes? Yeah, I was worried. Having my hands tied and being blindfolded was totally fucking scary, even if they were my best buds.

Then I could hear some stuff happening -- like a cupboard door, and some rustling sounds. "What the fuck are you doing, guys?"

"It's my old wettie," I heard Kyle say. "I just wanna see if it fits you."

"Your old piss-filled wettie? Yuck!" Well, at least they weren't gonna shave me.

"Shuddup, Wingnut. Stand up, and let's try it on."

The next thing I knew, I'd been relieved of my boardies. Then, it took a while for the guys to manhandle me into the bottom part of the wettie 'cause it fitted me like a glove. In fact, even though I was blindfolded, I could sense both guys grabbing a side each and pulling, which lifted me off the floor. "You're crushing my nuts!"

"It's OK. They're just little ones."

"Says you!" Then Kyle put his hand down the front of the wettie to arrange my cock. Damn! I got an instant boner! That thing really did have a fucking mind of its own.

The guys maneuvered me to another part of the room. I was still in total darkness, so I didn't have a clue where I was. Then I felt somebody's hands removing the blindfold. I was instantly speechless. I stared at the reflection of myself in Kyle's mirror for what seemed like ages. This couldn't be true! There had to be some mistake! Then I heard Steve's voice behind me. "Pretty cool, huh?" I was way too overwhelmed to utter a sound.

When Kyle handed me the top half of the wettie, I put my arms through the sleeves, lifted the collar, then turned to face Kyle so that he could zip it. Without saying a word, I turned to face the mirror again and gazed in awe at my reflection. The wettie fitted my bod like it was tailor-made for me. It showed off my chest and flat stomach. Even my boner was showing. It was an awesome sight, and one I could never have anticipated in my wildest dreams.

A million thoughts raced through my mind. Images of the guys in their wetties at the beach, and how fucking awesome they looked. I'd always surfed in my boardies and pretended that it was cool -- that I was tough enough to surf without a wettie. My trademark color was blue. Not even to myself had I admitted that I really wanted one. Hell, that was impossible. Wetties were expensive, and way outa the range of my folks' generosity. I was convinced that I'd never have a wettie, and that I was lucky just to have a stick.

Eventually, I broke the silence with the only words that my scrambled brain could think of -- but I still couldn't take my eyes off my reflection. "Hey, Kyle, this isn't your old wettie. This is a new wettie."

"Well, it's not quite new, but it's in helluva good nick."

"Oh, fuck! This is awesome!" Then I realized something. I was looking at a fantasy. I was looking at big money. I was looking at something I didn't deserve. I was looking at something I could never repay. "But I can't take it."

There was a long pause before Kyle spoke softly. He sounded terribly disappointed. "Why?"


"'Cause why?"

"'Cause I see you doing chores around the 'hood and stuff to make money, and this must've cost a whack. And I'm never gonna be able to give you anything like this... ever."

"Hey, Wingnut, it's not about you giving me or Steve anything in return, it's about you just keeping on making us laugh and having fun -- being the guy you already are. And it didn't take a whole lotta chores -- and Steve put some bucks in as well. We both knew that you'd love the wettie, and that you'd take good care of it. Besides, the girls are gonna love it as well."

"This is so cool! I don't know what to say," I mumbled, still gawking at my reflection.

"Thanks would be cool."

"It doesn't sound like enough, though."

"A hug would be fine."

I turned and hugged both Kyle and Steve -- long and hard. There were no words. On an occasion like that, words would've been superfluous, anyway. I wasn't quite sure why they'd gone to the trouble of fitting me out with a wettie -- and a wettie that totally rocked -- but I was sure of one thing. They wanted me to have it. "Do I look as good as I think I do?" I asked, finally.

"Totally spiff," Kyle smiled. "When it saw it for sale in the surf shop, I figured it'd fit, but I didn't figure it'd fit so damn well. The groupies aren't gonna miss out on a single Wingnut muscle, bro. They all show."

"Yeah, they do," I agreed as I checked my reflection again. "But I still can't believe it. Jeez, at last I'm gonna look as wicked as you guys."

Copyright 1999 All rights reserved. mrbstories


 Wingnut Part 29