On Friday, I was hoping Kyle would say it was OK for me to sleep over. "Is it?"
"Sure, but I've got a stack of homework and study to do. It won't be much fun for you."
"It's cool. I'll watch TV or something."
"Sometimes I don't understand you, Wingnut. Why would you wanna be here when I'm studying?"
"I just like being with you. Is that dumb?"
"I guess not," he smiled. "I kinda like being with you, too."
Anyway, Kyle's folks had gone out for the night to some friend's birthday party, so Kyle organized a vid for me -- Mortal Kombat. I'd seen it before, but I watched it again. It was cool to watch all those dudes making a fucking mess of each other 'cause it wasn't like real life. My mom called it 'escapism'. Meanwhile, Kyle was in the den doing his homework. I'd promised him that I wouldn't interrupt him while he was working.
"I'm done," he said as he entered the living room at about 10pm. "Wanna watch some music vids?"
We were still watching MTV when Kyle's folks came home. It was pretty late, so Kyle and I decided to hit the hay. He'd already stripped and was under the covers while I was still in my boxers checking out my reflection in his mirror.
"Hey, Kyle, were you being serious when you told me that I was hunky the other day?"
"Why? Have the girls lost interest in you?"
"No, but they're a pain in the ass. Every time I wanna hang out with my friends, they come around and start giggling and acting like fucking girls."
"Well, they are girls," he laughed. "But they're not giggling at you. Tell ya what, flex your muscles."
I began to pose and check my reflection again. "Yeah, my muscles are getting bigger. Probably 'cause of the surfing and the rugger. What's my back look like?"
"Stronger. And your shoulders have improved a stack. So have your legs."
He was right. All the sport and exercise had made a big diff to my bod. "So you reckon that's what girls look at?"
"That, and other things. You're giving yourself a boner, dude. You're turning yourself on."
I saw the tent in my boxers and thrust out my crotch. "You wanna jack me?" I grinned.
"Nah, you're too ugly and your weenie's too tiny."
"Yeah, right." I dropped my boxers and studied the reflection of my woody hugging my stomach. "That's not a fucking weenie, bro, that's a cock! Check it out!"
I turned and leapt on top of him before he could roll away. "Hey, you're getting weak!"
"Just giving you a chance before I beat the fucking crap outa ya."
"Don't move. Just lay there. I wanna see something." I pulled down the covers, then sat between his legs so that our crotches were aligned. I grabbed his boner and lifted it off his stomach.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Checking something. Chill!" I held our upright boners together so that I could compare sizes.
"See?" he laughed. "I told you that yours was a weenie."
"Hmmm, it looks like a miniature of yours, but it's almost as thick. And it's not that much shorter!" I looked up at his smiling, hazel eyes. "Hey, Kyle, can we jack each other?"
"You like that, huh?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"OK, I'll jack you first 'cause when you jack me, all I wanna do is sleep."
I laid on my back and allowed Kyle to place a pillow over my face so that I wouldn't make a whole bunch of noise. That was always my problem. I'd get so fucking excited about the feeling of Kyle's fist around my woody that my whole body would stiffen, then I'd have all these damn spasms when I shot my load. But it felt so fucking wicked! And sooooo much better than when I jacked myself.
When I did finally jet a truckload of juice all over my stomach, I felt Kyle's hand rubbing it over my skin. I was swearing like crazy, still with the pillow over my face, which was just as well. If his folks had heard me, they would've thought I was being murdered or something.
Without warning, Kyle had straddled my chest. "OK, so jack me."
I threw the pillow to one side so that I could see what was going on. "You must lay down."
"Nah, I want you to jack me like this."
"Why? So you can spooge all over my face?" It was kinda scary to see him towering over me like that -- with his cheeky grin and his spiky black hair. He looked kinda neat, though.
"I'll tell you when I'm gonna shoot, and I'll get off."
"Would I lie?"
"Yes." Anyway, I jacked his solid six inches while he was sitting on my abs -- and he kept saying how horny it felt to have his bare ass feeling my sixpack flexing against his skin. Actually, it felt kinda wicked to feel his buns squeezing my abs. Every now and then, he'd throw his head back and sigh like he was in another world. Then it happened.
"Fuck! I fucking told you so! Now I'm a fucking mess!" I was covered with his cum -- it was all over my chest, face and hair. The damn stuff shot outa his knob so quickly, there was no time to get outa the way. And what was he doing? Fucking giggling his tits off!
I squirmed out from underneath him and headed for the bathroom. I didn't even check to see what I looked like in the mirror -- I knew it'd be totally gross! All I wanted to do was wash the damn stuff off! And what do you know? The damn fucker was still giggling when I got back to his room. "It's not fucking funny, Kyle! Next time, I'm gonna cum in your mouth!"
There was something about the way he said "yeah, right" that didn't sound pissed enough. "You don't believe me?"
"Yeah, I do. Anyway," he continued as I climbed into the bed next to him, "I thought you were mad at me."
"Nope. Well, kinda."
"Have you ever tasted your jizz?"
"'Cause I got some in my mouth."
"Sorry 'bout that."
"Well, have you?"
"Tastes kinda weird -- like salty nothing."
"Oh? I thought mine tasted more like juice."
"Huh?" What was he talking about? Juice was like orange juice or something!
Well, that got me giggling all over again. Boy juice! Just before I fell asleep, though, I wondered about his reaction to my threat of cumming in his mouth. He didn't exactly say he wanted me to, but I got the feeling that he wouldn't mind if I did. Oh, well. Maybe he was thinking that if I wanted to get even, it would be OK. Yeah, that had to be it. Anyway, it was neat to be alongside him and to feel his warmth as I drifted off to sleep.
The next time I saw Kyle was on Sunday. He wasn't home when I called to see if he wanted to go surfing -- his mom told me that he'd already gone to the beach. Bummer! Why didn't he wait for me? Maybe he and Steve went on one of those dawn patrol thingies. Anyway, I was pissed at him as I ran down to surf with my stick under my arm. A bunch of my buds were there and I kinda hung with them to let Kyle know that I was mad at him for going without me. Asshole!
Kyle wasn't the kinda dude I could stay mad at, though, and the next afternoon after school and rugger practice, the surf was still working. As I arrived at the beach, I saw Kyle out the back but not Steve, and Steph was making her way to shore. She looked kinda upset. I paddled out to join Kyle who was sitting on his stick and riding the swell.
"Hey, Kyle! What's bugging Steph?"
"Did you make her cry?"
"Drop it," he glared, then turned to check the oncoming swell over his shoulder.
"You guys argue?"
"Just drop the subject. OK?"
Well, I knew Kyle well enough to realize that when he was in one of those fucking dark moods, there was no point in talking, so we kinda surfed on our own and hardly spoke for the rest of the afternoon. Another bummer.
The surf was shitty the next day, so I hopped the fence to help Kyle who was doing some chores. Straight away I grabbed the shovel and began to pick up the dog crap. "Hey, Kyle! I'm gonna buy your dog a birthday pressie."
"A cork to put up his fucking ass so he doesn't shit so much!" I was in my rugger 'uniform' -- lotsa mud and grass stains -- and I was hoping that my 'hero' image would kinda loosen him up 'cause he liked to see me looking like I'd just played in the World Cup Final or whatever.
"Hey, you wanna help me scoop the leaves from the pool?"
"Cool." I'd only just arrived at the edge of the pool when I felt Kyle's hand on the small of my back. SPLASH! And there I was, rugger clothes and all, floating around in the water which was as cold as fucking ice. I was outa there like a mule with its ass on fire, and standing on the lawn dripping wet, while the fucking smartass was cracking big time, and telling me how he couldn't resist the temptation to push me in. Yeah, right. "I owe ya, Kyle. I definitely owe ya."
"Hey, you can't come into the house all dripping wet like that."
"Can you get me a towel?"
I stood there like some zombie after being drenched by a thunderstorm while I waited for Kyle to return from the house with a towel. He also brought a pair of his trackpants and a t. So I stripped, then dried myself while he watched. It was cool to have Kyle ogle me when I was naked. Sure, he had a better bod than mine, but there must've been something about mine that he thought was pretty cool 'cause he'd look at me in a kinda admiring way. And he'd always get a boner.
"Better hang your togs to dry on the line for a while."
Steve arrived shortly afterwards and cracked totally when Kyle told him what had happened. Yeah, I guessed it must've been funny to see, so I laughed too. Besides, when those two guys laughed, it was impossible to resist the temptation to fold up like a pack of cards.
Then we all followed Kyle into the kitchen to watch him make some toasted sarmies -- some with cheese and some with peanut butter -- then pour us each a juice. FRUIT JUICE! After that, we returned to Kyle's room where we listened to music and just chatted about shit. It was just so fucking wicked to be with the guys like I belonged. Really belonged! When I was with them, I didn't feel twelve. I felt like I was one of the big guys. They treated me like an equal which was totally damn cool, and which, unfortunately, was something my mom didn't understand.
"That's your mom yelling for you, Wingnut."
"Yeah, dammit! I forgot to tell her I was here. Shit! She's probably wondering why I'm so fucking late from school! See yas!"
"Why are you wearing Kyle's clothes?"
"Jeez, mom, not so loud! The guys will hear you!"
"And why didn't you report home earlier?"
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