As it turned out, I was supposed to sleep over at Kyle's place on Saturday night. Prob was, Sean and some of his buds had organized a birthday party for me at a friend's house. My birthday was actually the following Tuesday, but that was a school day.
"It doesn't seem fair. Kyle always invites me to his parties."
"Don't stress, man. Hey, you know what Kyle's like. He'll freak."
"It's a surprise."
"Anyway, I'd better leave early 'cause I'm sleeping over at his house tonight."
"It'll be OK, Wingnut. Chill."
Well, there were a couple of surprises. One was a kid who brought a bong to the party. He filled it with vodka, then grass, and we all took turns at smoking it. Whoa! How come everything was spinning around? Hello? Where am I?
Another surprise was my present. All the guys had chipped in a few bucks to buy it. Actually, it wasn't an 'it', it was a she.
"Who is she?"
"A stripper. Gareth's bro knows her. Pretty cool, huh?"
"What's she gonna do?"
"What strippers are supposed to do, you idiot."
We all watched as the girl peeled off her clothes, slowly and teasingly, to the rhythm of music from the stereo. Some of the kids at the party had probably never seen a pair of wobbling tits before. They were totally bug-eyed at the sight of those melons, with their big, pink nipples, and had major tents in their pants. And me? No pants. After she'd gotten down to her g-string, she undressed me. So there I was, stark fucking naked, with this chick pulling me close to her, and rubbing her tits against my chest, and feeling me all over.
"That's quite a boner you've got, handsome."
"So they tell me."
"I think you're making the other lighties jealous."
"'Cept for Sean. His is hu-fucking-mungous."
"It's not Sean's birthday. It's yours," she smiled, then sent her tongue down my throat while one of her hands fondled my woody and balls.
I was wondering what the fuck all this was leading to, when I heard the guys yelling, "Blow him! Give Wingnut a blow job!"
But the stripper didn't go down that road. In fact, I didn't blow at all. She stroked me until I was pretty close to offloading, but all of a sudden the show was over.
"We could only afford half an hour," Sean explained as the girl dressed, and acted as if we no longer existed. "It was awesome to watch, though. How come you didn't shoot your load? Were you nervous?"
"With half the fucking school watching? What makes you think that?"
Somehow, I'd lost track of time. The bong, the booze, the stripper, the food, the convo, the laughs. It was almost 1am before I knew what was happening. Hey, I didn't know what the fuck was happening.
"Hey, Kyle, here's your bud. He's a little fucked up."
"He looks trashed. Totally. Anyway, thanks for bringing him home."
"Home? Am I home?"
"No, you idiot. This is Kyle's house."
"Oh," I giggled at the blurred vision of my bro standing in the doorway. "Hi, Kyle."
"How did you get so damn trashed?" he asked as he helped me toward his room.
"I dunno. It just kinda happened."
"It's lucky my folks aren't home. You're almost demolishing the fucking hall. Stand up straight."
"I am standing up straight. You keep pushing me around, dammit. Uh, oh... I think I'm gonna be sick."
The next thing I remembered was getting a close-up view of the toilet bowl interior. Not a pretty sight. Then I found myself laying on the spare mattress in Kyle's room. "How did I get here?"
"I carried you. You fell asleep with your head in the toilet after you'd hurled up half your damn guts."
"Oh…you shouldn't have said that. Ohhhh, jeeeeez." A few seconds later, I was in the bathroom again for another technicolor yawn. But this time I managed to stay awake, and washed my face.
"I'm sorry, Kyle," I said as I stumbled toward the spare mattress. "I was gonna get here earlier but my friends had a party for me."
"Looks like it."
"I don't blame you for being mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried 'cause of how damn totalled you are. You can't even stand straight."
"Gareth's bro arranged for a stripper to be there."
"What? A stripper?"
"Yeah. But I took off more than she did, and I didn't get paid for it, hey."
[This next section is told by Kyle, for obvious reasons.]
Wingnut told me as much as he could remember, which wasn't a helluva lot, and he never mentioned the bong. I found out about that later from some of the other guys. Anyway, the little guy passed out on the spare mattress, so I undressed him, and watched his cock react to the fresh air.
As much as I'd always wanted to blow the little shit, I'd recently made the decision not to. My reasons may have sounded stupid, but now that I was eighteen, I figured blowing him would be like me taking advantage of the little dude. So I'd made up my mind that if anything happened, it would be 'cause of something he'd initiated, and not me.
But when he was laying on his back on the mattress, fast asleep, with his muscular, naked bod right before my eyes, driving me fucking wild, and his semi just laying across his belly begging to be sucked, I decided to go for it.
I was kneeling beside him as I took his semi in my hand. Instant boner. How that lighty's dick could perform, given his trashed condition, would forever remain a mystery, but it did, and was rock solid.
I placed my lips over the beautifully sculptured head of his woody, and began to give it tongue. Oops! I backed off immediately when I head him groan.
I studied his face for a few moments. Hmmm, still fast asleep. Or was he?
By this time, I was so excited by the thought of swallowing his warm, tasty juice, I thought, "Fuck it, if he wakes up, too damn bad." So I sucked, and sucked, and sucked on that stiff teen tool, until he finally offloaded a bucket of thick, creamy Wingnut juice down my throat.
Well, that must've been the best boy juice I'd ever fucking tasted. Awesome! And all the while, he just carried on in his comatose state, totally oblivious to all that had happened… unless, of course, he was dreaming about it.
Such was the pleasure of having his delicious dick in my mouth, I kept it there until it had gone completely soft. Well, it didn't go totally soft. And even on the slack, the size of his cock was still pretty substantial. There was something very special about having Wingnut's manhood in my mouth. I wasn't sure exactly what the reason was, but it made me feel closer to him than I'd ever been before.
Anyway, my balls were busting to be emptied, so I pulled the covers over my little bro, then jacked off while I thought about the wicked taste of his thick, sticky juice, and the way his exploding boner had gone crazy between my tight lips.
[Now back to Wingnut's version of the story.]
I was still feeling a bit woozy the next morning, but after a shower, I was back to normal.
"Hey, Kyle! Wake up! Surf time, bro!"
"How the hell do you do it?"
"Recover so damn fast? You were a mess last night."
"That was last night. Anyway, I'm fit. Did I piss you off?"
"Nah. You were OK."
"I had a dream. I dreamt that the stripper chick blew me."
Actually, I lied. From what I could remember, the stripper didn't have spiky, black hair, or hazel eyes.
The surf was rocking big time, and all the guys from the party were there, including the dude who'd brought me home to Kyle's house. They were really taking me to pieces between the rolling sets, though, giving me heaps about how trashed I was the previous night. A couple of them made comments about my monster meat, and how it should've gone into the chick's oyster.
"Yeah, right. With you gawking?"
On the walk home, Kyle said that my buds seemed like a cool bunch of dudes. "I'm glad you're sorted out with friends."
"You really like them?"
"Yeppo. It wasn't all that long ago that you were sticking to me like shit to a blanket. Brian was your only other friend."
"It's the surfing. You taught me, as well as Steve. And you gave me this stick… plus my wettie. I've made a lotta friends since then."
"Remember when you used to jump the fence every arvie after school and pick up the dog crap?"
"Yeah… but I was just a kid then. And anyway, Sox ain't here any more. Do you still miss her?"
"A stack. I also miss those days… the daily crap detail."
"I still jump the fence every arvie, though, and breeze into your room just like I always did."
"Yeah, I know. But it's different now. I think you're growing up."
"So are you. You're an adult now, even though you don't look any different. So now you can go clubbing legally. Cool, huh?"
"It was more fun when it was illegal," he laughed. "Breaking rules is always more fun... like Daniel does."
"Just a guy I know. He's not from around here."
On Tuesday morning as we walked to school, Kyle wished me happy birthday. He didn't have a present to give me, but that didn't matter. I was still stoked just to see his big, cheesy grin, and have his arm around my shoulder. Maybe he was broke or something. Anyway, he'd already given me a stack of stuff in the past, like the stick and the wettie.
"Get anything from your folks?"
"Yep. Clothes. How come parents are so unimaginative?"
"'Cause you can't wear a wettie to school."
After school, though, it was a different story. Once I'd changed into my shorts and t, I hopped the fence as usual, and breezed into his room. There was a package on his bed.
It was a large, heavy package, wrapped in paper decorated with surfing pics, and with a card attached. "To my li'l bro who's getting to be a bigger bro. Happy birthday, Wingnut. Congratulations on becoming a teen. Your friend, Kyle."
"So what's inside?" I asked as I hugged him.
"Take a look."
I didn't wanna fuck up the wrapping paper, so I carefully lifted the parts that were taped, then unwrapped the package. "Wow! These must've cost you a stack!"
"Yeah, right. More than a few bucks. More like a fucking hundred!" I couldn't believe it. There must've been twenty surf mags… all the best ones… with wicked center pages that folded out to become posters. "This is awesome, Kyle! Totally fucking awesome!"
"I dunno where you're gonna put all the posters."
"I'll figure it out. Thanks a stack, Kyle. I'm totally stoked!"
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