South Africa
Part 70

Sleeping over at Sean's was pretty neat, but not the same as sleeping over at Kyle's… or even Brian's, for that matter. For one thing, Sean slept in briefs, and a pair of short PJ boxers. I figured that was kinda weird, so I slept in my boxers, too. Maybe he slept in PJs 'cause he was kinda nervous about us both sleeping in the same bed. Anyway, I didn't wanna say anything about it, or sleep naked like I usually did, in case he thought I was… well, whatever. I figured if we were ever gonna do stuff together, it'd happen naturally like it had with Kyle and me.

Sean was pretty hot looking… even Candy had commented on his looks, which kinda pissed me off a bit. He wasn't as built as I was. He still had a bit of puppy fat around his stomach, but not that you'd notice… well, unless you noticed. That was another weird thing. I knew heaps of guys at school… guys in the rugger team, the swim team, the cricket team… stacks of guys. But there were guys I'd notice, and guys who were just guys. Y'know, like guys you didn't pay a whole lotta attention to. The guys I did notice, though, were guys like Kyle… not exactly like Kyle, but guys who were kinda cool in a special way, like Kyle was. You got this kinda feeling that you could get close to them, and share secrets and shit like that. That's the way I felt about Sean, but we weren't that close yet.

Another feeling I had about Sean was that he looked up to me, like I looked up to Kyle. He didn't make it all that obvious. He didn't say the same kinda things to me that I said to Kyle… like how wicked it was to be his bro and shit like that, but Sean thought I was a pretty rad surfer, and he was totally blown away by the fact that I hung with the big guys. That was just soooo damn cool! Anyway, if Kyle could be my hero, why couldn't I be some other dude's hero? Made sense to me.

Sunday was Father's Day, so mom and I made breakfast of bacon and eggs. OK, so I made the toast, but I still contributed. As soon as dad was seated at the table, I stood behind him and gave him a big hug just as he was about to grab his knife and fork. "Happy Father's Day, dad!" Then I handed him my card. "I made it myself."

"I'd never have guessed," he said, giving my card an odd kinda look.

"It's better if you make cards yourself, dad. I made one for Candy for Valentine's."

"Was that the one I saw? It looked like a bought one."

"Yeah, that one was. But I also made one."

"I didn't see that one."

"Yeah, well it was kinda personal. Y'know… the kinda stuff they don't print on bought cards in shops."

"Oh? Like what?"

"You wouldn't understand, dad. Things are different now."

"How different?"

"Jeez, dad! Aren't you gonna look at what I wrote in your card?"

"Don't rush me. I'm still trying to figure the picture on the front. Is that supposed to be me?"

"Yeah. Well, kinda sorta. I guess I don't draw too well, huh? Anyway, read what's inside."

"I hope there's no similarity to what you wrote for Candy," he chuckled.

"Just read it!"

"There once was a mom and a dad
who married and then a son had
they were proud of their boy
'cause he's a whole lotta joy
and in surf he's totally rad."

"Cool, huh?"

"The coolest," dad smiled, then cast his eyes over my limerick once again. "But you've said that your mother and I were mom and dad before we were married."

"It's poetry, dad! It's called poetic license! Jeez! Anyway, I couldn't get it to rhyme the other way round. And I wanted to get the bit in about me being rad in the surf, and rad rhymes with dad. Get it?"

"It's a wonderful card. Thank you, son. I appreciate it very much." Then dad gave me a hug that I thought was never gonna end.

Kyle worked in a neighbor's garden that morning, then joined his folks for Father's Day lunch at a restaurant. Steph was invited to go along with them, so I spent most of the day surfing with the grommets, including Sean. By about mid afternoon, I figured Kyle would be home, so I quit the surf and checked. Nope. Nobody there. Ten minutes later, though, I saw the car arriving. Before the doors had opened, I hopped the fence.

"Kyle! You've gotta get down to the surf! It's wicked!"

"You been already?"

"Yeah, but I'll go again. Hi, Steph." It was then that my focus suddenly shifted from surfing to Steph's tits. After having seen them in the flesh, it was dead simple to mentally remove her top, and remember how cute they were… puppy nose tits, as Kyle called them, with brown, suckable nipples.

"Hey, Wingnut," she said, "out of your trance, buddy. Those are mine."

I directed my response to Kyle, before returning my attention to Steph. "Steph doesn't mind if I look. Right, Steph?"

She leaned forward, then whispered something in my ear. Hello? I glanced down at the tell-tale bulge in my pants. "Hey, it's cool," I smiled. "Bigger than Kyle's, huh?" My bro's hand was too quick for me, though, and I copped a clip over the ear before I could duck.

After we'd walked Steph home on the way to the beach, Kyle told me about his day. "We went to a restaurant called the Brass Bell on the rocks in Kalk Bay. The entrance is right on the railway platform. From there you can watch the guys surf Kalk Bay Reef. It's a wicked break, with a quick drop and turn. The locals have got it taped, but it was rad to see the new guys… they got trashed big time. A few guys have gotten themselves seriously bruised on that reef over the last couple of years."

"Hey, I'd risk it. Sounds cool!"

"So after lunch we walked around to Kalk Bay fishing harbor, and called in to the fish shop. My dad loves fishing, so he got talking to a couple of the guys on the fishing boats there. Steph and I took a walk along the pier, and did a bit of graunching when we were outa sight."

"She's got totally cool tits."

"Actually, it was pretty romantic."

"Romantic? Yeah, right. Since when have you been fucking romantic?"

"Girls do that kinda thing to a guy… sometimes."

"Sean sleeps with briefs and PJs."

"What's that got to do with romantic?"

"I dunno… just thought I'd mention it. Anyway, he's totally cool. We talked about music and surfing and our girlfriends…"

"And tits."

"Yeah, and tits. I didn't tell him about Steph, though… or any of the other stuff. I don't think he's ready for that yet. Besides, it's our secret, right?"

"He looks a bit older than you."

"I look a bit older than me, too!" I protested. "So it's cool. Anyway, you said I was mature for my age. Hey, you hang with me, so what's the biggie?"

"No biggie… especially in your cargoes."

"You are soooo fulla shit, Kyle."

It was wicked to see Kyle in the surf again. Those few weeks when he was sick, and which had forced him to become a landlubber, pissed him off big time. He was a fish outa water... almost literally. But now he was back in his fav element, spotting a wave and paddling like crazy for it, then skimming down the steep, glassy face of a rad four footer. At the bottom, he would put pressure on his back foot, turn, then rocket back up to the lip, and ride the mother again. Way to go! Woohoo!

On the walk home, we talked about all the shit on TV about Hansie Cronje, the Safrican cricket team captain who'd admitted accepting bribes from bookmakers to fix international games. Cronje was one of the most respected guys in Safrica, in or out of cricket, and considered to be a gentleman as well as a great sportsman. There wasn't a cricket fan in SA who didn't idolize him.

"This whole cricket match-fixing thing is like a fucking Nuremberg Trial," my bro bitched. "You'd swear the whole team were mass murderers or something."

"Everyone's supporting the guys, though."

"Yeah, but all the publicity is still way over the fucking top, and I'm so damn sick of seeing nothing else on TV."

"The guys in the school team are pretty pissed about all the shit that's going down, too. It's like they're trying to take our heroes away from us. It sucks."

"Journalists and piranha have a lot in common, little bro. That's what my dad says."

On the Monday, we got our exam mark-sheets from school. Yes! My folks were pretty chuffed, but I was surprised to see that Kyle hadn't done so well. I guessed it must've been 'cause of his bronchitis. Mark and Steve had helped him a stack over those two weeks, but that wasn't the same as being at school.

That afternoon, I breezed into his room, jumped on his bed, and flicked through one of his surf mags while I laid on my stomach.

"You going for a wave, Kyle?"

"Yeah, maybe I should go drown myself. My math mark dropped 20 percent, and my languages are down as well."

"Yeah, but science, biology and history are up. I saw your marks, remember? And geography and computer studies were cool."

"Tell that to my folks. They're gonna fucking kill me. And to make it worse, Mark's marks… try that again… Mark's results were up. He's been studying his ass off while I've been surfing… well, was surfing. Anyway, how come you did so fucking well in math after asking me for help?"

"Teacher thinks I'm cute?" I smiled, and casually turned a page of the mag. Kyle ignored my smartass remark, and repeated his question. "How the hell would I know? Probably 'cause you and Steve helped me."

"Seventy four percent is pretty good, Wingnut."

"Mom says she'll wait 'til the end of term before she goes out and does a somersault. Anyway, no more homework. None! Zippo! So we can catch a wave this arvie. How cool is that?"

"Steve'll be there as well."

"Coolio. And how come you've been checking out my butt while I've been laying here?"

"Just noticing your cargoes."

"Yeah, right. I've got a cute butt. Admit it!"

"It makes up for your weenie."

"Jeez, Kyle, you're so fulla damn shit. What about that time I was sitting on your chest and…?"

"OK, OK… your butt's not all that bad."


"Not all that bad."

"Cute!" Well, he didn't answer, but he smiled… and that was good enough for me. My bro's smile was the kinda smile that made you feel glad to know him.

After Steve arrived, the three of us trotted down to the beach together in our wetties, with our sticks tucked under our arms. Sean was already on the back line as we paddled out, and it was so damn cool to be seen with my buds… the big guys. Kyle and Steve, and especially Steve, were considered to be rave surfers at the local, so to be hanging with those dudes was the dope. Totally. And, hey! I was pretty damn awesome on a wave myself!

Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved. mrbstories


 Wingnut Part 71