South Africa
Part 44

With end-of-year exams coming up, study was full on. Surfing and visiting Kyle had to take a back seat, although I'd hop the fence occasionally to pick up the dog crap, and say hi for a few. Kyle was also up to his ears in homework. His room was covered in post-it notes, and he even had theorems stuck to the inside of his closet door.

"I found out what's bugging Tim. He's not cut."

"That's no biggie. Steve's not cut either."

"Yeah, but Steve rolls his foreskin back so that he looks cut, so he must figure cut is cool."

"He just wants to look like me."

"Is that what he said?"

"Yep, he told me that his dick looks better when it looks like mine."

"So what am I gonna tell Tim?"

"He's seen Steve in the surf, and all the groupies that hang around him, so just tell him that Steve's uncut, too, but don't tell him that Steve rolls his foreskin back. You don't want Tim thinking that uncut is uncool."

"He was pretty impressed when he saw mine."

"He's not the only one."

"You think Steph would be impressed?"

"Why do you keep asking the same questions over and over? Anyway, bro, I hate to put a lid on this convo, but I've got a lotta homework to catch up on."

"Me, too. See ya!"

The next afternoon, I called in after cricket practice 'cause I wanted Kyle to get an eyeful how wicked I looked.

"How do you get full of mud and grass playing fucking cricket?"

"Sliding for wickets. Cool, huh? Mind if I come back later for a swim?"

Well, my mom and Kyle came from totally different planets. What looked cool to him [and me] was just the opposite to her. "He doesn't have to do your washing," she complained, then shook her head. "Boys!"

Moms! I thought. What did they expect? Was I supposed to come home from cricket or rugger prac looking like I'd just stepped outa some fucking beauty salon? "Anyway, Kyle said it would be OK if I had a quick swim."

"Get cleaned up first. You don't want to turn his pool into a swamp."

I wasn't sure why I decided to wear my Speedos. Maybe I didn't wanna be a distraction while Kyle sat by the side of the pool catching up on some bio. Even so, he kept looking up from his book at me. "I thought you were supposed to be studying?"

"Yeah, right. With a twelve year old Jean-Claude Van Damme in my pool?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind."

The weather forecast for the weekend was for a change in the wind to north-east, which meant surf! But the forecast was wrong, and the surf was up the shit. On Friday arvie, Steve was at Kyle's, so I rocked over with a blank tape. Steve would often bring a CD or two, and it was an opportunity for Kyle to tape something for me.

"You know this is illegal, dude."

"So is being twelve on a pissy allowance."

Saturday arvie, we all watched the rugby on TV at Kyle's. I was a keen player and follower of rugby, so I was devestated when the 'Boks were beaten. Kyle's dad was swearing like a trooper, so I guessed he must've learned all those words from his son.

"Hey, buddy," my bro said after the match, "you OK?"

"Yeah." That's about as much as I could manage without bursting into fucking tears. The 'Boks losing was like the worst thing that could've happened. A total fucking nightmare.

"It's just a game."

"I guess."

"You still going out with your friends tonight?"

"Yeah." It was Halloween, and I had plans to go trick or treating with a bunch of friends. I'd wanted to go with Kyle to his party but… yeah, I was a grommet and they were gonna have beer there. So did he think us guys weren't gonna have beer? Getting older obviously didn't mean getting smarter.

"Hey, you wanna go to the movies with me before you go hellraising?"

Well, that put a bit of a smile on my face. Kyle had a way of looking after me when I was feeling down. "Cool!"

We went to see a movie called "Deep Blue Sea", which was about shark research, where the sharks became super intelligent, and began to attack the humans. It seemed like Kyle was telling me to hush every five minutes 'cause I kept yelling, "Go sharks!"

It was a totally cool movie, and I felt a stack better afterwards. "Hey, we were eating popcorn but nothing funny happened."

"Should it?"

"Well it did the last time we went to the movies with Steph and Steve and his girl."

"I really can't tell you about that, Wingnut."

"Why? 'Cause it's big guy stuff?"

Anyway, my buds and I had a way cool Halloween. We'd managed to get our hands on some beer and kinda got outa our brackets. It was a good thing that I was sleeping over at Tim's 'cause mom would have freaked if she'd seen me plastered.

"Are you gonna show me your dick before we go to sleep?"

"What the fuck do you wanna see it for? It's just a dick."

"'Cause I heard it's like Steve's."


"Yeah, Steve's. The guy who's always got a stack of chicks hanging around."

"Whoa! Do they know he's uncut?"

"Are you kidding? He's fucked just about every chick in town."

"How do you know?"

"Kyle tells me everything. Now, are you gonna show me?"

Tim dropped his boxers and stood there like some store mannequin, staring at the wall. He had a longer foreskin than Steve's, and I had to admit that it looked kinda weird. "Does your knob pop out when you get a woody?"

"'Course it does!"

"You wanna show me?"

"I can't get a woody while you're fucking gawking at it."

"You want me to jack it?" He didn't answer. Instead, he closed his eyes and squinted as though I was gonna give him a tetanus shot. So I used a couple of fingers to get his dick happening… there wasn't enough of it to use my whole fist. But, pretty soon, it began to get harder and longer. And what do you know? It grew to maybe four inches and out popped the purple-headed monster! "Hey! It works!"

"You'd better stop now."

"Does it hurt or something?"


"Does it feel cool?"

"Have you seen Steve's?"


"Is mine the same?"

"Pretty much. His is bigger 'cause he's older."

"Man, that dude is a real lady killer. And he surfs like a pro. He's fucking awesome. I never knew that he had a dick like mine."

"So there ya go, man. You learn something every day. Feel better now?"

"Yeah. Thanks."

On Sunday, I watched the rugger again at Kyle's. The New Zealand All Blacks got the surprise of their lives by being trashed by France. That meant that the 'Boks would play NZ in the playoff, which would be a pretty wicked game. Go 'Boks! And France would play Australia for the World Cup.

Sometimes it seemed like I had to get into some fucking mile-long queue to see Kyle. He'd been at Steve's house after school, and I was hanging big time for him to get home. The moment I saw that spiky head of black hair come through the front gate, I was over the fence like a gazelle with its ass on fire. "Hey! Can I swim in the pool for a while?"

After the swim, I was dripping wet. Kyle lent me a pair of his shorts so that my Speedos wouldn't wet his bed. Prob was, my hair was still wet. When I laid on his bed to listen to music, I drenched his pillow. He just shook his head for a minute, then a reluctant grin spread across his face. Kyle had a pretty hard time getting mad at me.

Even though the surf was crappy the next day, Kyle talked me into coming with him to the beach. "I'm going through serious withdrawals, bro. I just gotta get down there to smell the air."

"Kyle," I asked as we headed for the sound of the waves, "do you wake with a boner every morning?"

"Yeah, well, you've seen what I wake with. And, yeah, it's every morning."

"Why do guys get that?"

"Well, you get it 'cause your body is like a cum factory, and it's trying to squeeze it out while you're sleeping."

"You're joking, right?"

"Yep," he laughed. "I dunno. It's got something to do with your morning piss, and the pressure on your furniture."

"I tried to jack mine away, and even after I came, I still had it. But then I couldn't piss right away, either."

"Yeah, it's a guy thing. I try to piss before I jack in the morning."

We'd reached the beach, and decided to walk along the rocks, just to chill out and listen to the surf pounding against the shore. "Hey, that girl phoned me. Wants to take me to a movie."

"Take you? Her treat? Whoa! Which one?"

"Any movie, I guess."

"I mean which girl, dumbfuck."

"The cute one with the baby tits and the blonde hair. Y'know? The one with the open midriff thing on."


"Reckon she'll blow me?"

Kyle's arms were outstretched for balance as he negotiated a rock. "Fucking hell, Wingnut," he laughed, "you're not fucking shy. You'll frighten the hell outa her, and she'll never wanna see you again, and she'll run to her folks. Take it cool." He jumped a few feet to the next rock which was a lot flatter, and I followed. "Are you so desperate to be blown?"

"Yep. But I won't ask her right away. OK, so what am I supposed to do, then?"

"Hold her hand."

We had to stretch our legs to negotiate the next few rocks which were small and spaced far apart, then we climbed onto a large one. "You're fucking kidding, right? That's for kids!"

"You are a kid."

"Not in my pants."

"Just hold her hand and kiss her or something. Stay away from her pants and her tits until you both know you wanna."

"So, should I go with her?"

"Do you wanna?"


"Then go with her. Who knows? Maybe she's dying for you to eat her pussy." Kyle cracked so much he lost his balance. He waved his arms around like he was being attacked by a swarm of bees, and almost toppled off the rock.

"You're fucking gross, Kyle."

"But you want her to eat you, right?"

"That's different."

"How so?"

"Just is. Fuck, you're gross." But I couldn't help laughing along with Kyle. It was just so cool to chill out with my bro, and to walk around the rocks smelling the salt air, while watching the waves crashing and exploding all around us. It was like our own special place where we could tell each other our secrets.

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 Wingnut Part 45