In situations where Wingnut, Mark and Kyle are in each other's company, the story is told by Kyle to avoid duplication. In this case, the story is mainly about their friend Steve's birthday party.
It was just after first recess on August 30, when I was busy with Ross and a few of the other seniors cleaning the pool and the pool area. Richard and Kev were putting on their wetties 'cause they had to scrub the walls of scum, which looked like a bathtub ring.
"Yech! Why don't you guys get the fucking juniors to dive in the pool and clean it?"
Yeah, right. I shouldn't have used such a loud voice 'cause the word soon got around, and the juniors had vanished into thin air. We looked everywhere, but couldn't find the little fuckers, including Wingnut. Maybe it was just as well for him 'cause he would've been in the pool naked, or wearing those wicked white briefs I'd given him. I had a thing about white briefs or boxers. The sight of Wingnut or Mark wearing them stirred my loins big fucking time.
As we scrubbed, cleaned, and swept in the bright sunshine, the main topic of convo was about yesterday's bomb blast in Cape Town. Nobody was killed, but a few people suffered minor injuries, although the newspaper hadn't revealed how minor. Fucking typical.
"I hope they catch the fuckers. That's the sixth bomb in the city this year. Sooner or later, they're gonna hit the suburbs, 'cause those fanatics just seem to be untouchable."
I was at home in my room, studying the notes I'd scribbled earlier that day in class, when you-know-fucking-who breezed into my room like he owned the fucking joint.
"Wanna hit the surf?"
"Can't. Got a stack of study to do. Anyway, where did you lighties disappear to this morning?"
"That's our secret."
"You're getting to be as bad as I used to be."
"I could never be that bad!"
"Anyway, I heard that the wind's swung around... it's onshore... so there won't be much surf."
"So why are you smiling?"
"'Cause I can't go."
When Wingnut hadn't returned a few hours later, standing there in his wettie, and dripping salt water all over my bedroom floor like he usually did, I figured he and Sean must've found surf, or settled for slop. Damn! I was feeling totally fucking horny, and was hoping that my little bud and I could've jacked each other.
"Steph? I'm going crazy here. Feel like a bit of phone sex?"
Next day, the wind was blasting, and it was raining cats and dogs. We were all hoping that the weather would clear before Steve's birthday party on Friday. His folks were going away for the night, so it was gonna be one helluva wild bash. They said something about wanting to be as far away from WWIII as possible. Hey, who would have expected anything less of Steve's seventeenth?
Meantime, Wingnut had told me that I'd missed some good surf the previous arvie. "The sets straightened out, and it was a rave!"
"Thanks, bro. I really needed to know that."
Anyway, I'd had too much work to do for the upcoming 'mock' exams, and was still studying when my dad came into my room, sat on my bed, and flicked through my new surfer mag. We chatted for a while about the bomb blast, surfing, then the September Olympics. I liked chatting to my dad. So did Mark and Wingnut. I often got the impression that my dad wished he was a teen again, and could hang with the guys.
On Friday, the excitement was building. Steve's party was gonna be totally outasight! Ross and Mark had been invited... although Mark had to work at the pizza restaurant, but he was gonna meet Carol at the party afterwards. Carol and Steph were going with me. Kewl! Two! And Wingnut and Candy were also gonna be there.
Wingnut was totally fucking amped about being the only junior who'd been invited. He'd wanted to invite Sean as well, but couldn't get hold of Steve in time to ask him.
"Just don't go fucking crazy," I said as we walked home from school.
"What do you mean?"
"Don't get all trashed and stupid."
"Oh? You mean like you, Mark, and Steve do?"
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah... like you, Mark, and Steve do."
"I'm gonna brain you!"
Wingnut peered around the back of me. "Oh? You got an army now?" Then the little fuck ran like hell. Wuss.
According to the TV and newspapers, it was supposed to be spring. But I'd always said that spring starts around September 21, with the equinox. I guessed people needed to have a spring day, and September 1 was kinda convenient. It was cool to see everyone handing out flowers at the mall, and traffic lights. Come to think of it, the flowers must've thought it was spring, too!
That evening, Wingnut and Candy walked with me to Carol's place, where we also fetched Steph. My little bud had his hair gelled in all fucking directions, looking like a pint-sized model in his baggy cargoes, and his floral Billabong shirt over his white tank top. Even though his cargoes were baggy, his muscular thighs filled the top of them pretty damn well. Jeez.
The girls looked totally smashing, too. Candy was wearing a long skirt, with a tight top, which nicely showed off her little puppy-nose tits. Steph's outfit revealed an open midriff, which caused my blood to run to my dick. It was just something about skin, I guessed. And she was a surfer, so her stomach was tight and flat.
By the time we'd arrived at Steve's house, and had gone out to the pool area, the joint was rocking. One of the first things I noticed, though, was two of Steve's friends... the same guys who'd kicked the crap outa Mark at Corners a few weeks back. I figured it was a recipe for disaster. But maybe Steve had said something to them, 'cause everybody was chillin', and just having a cool time jiving to the music.
"Thanks," Steve said as Wingnut offered the blonde Adonis his birthday present, then unwrapped it. "Cool! An armband! Hey, what's this?"
Candy totally freaked when she saw what Wingnut had placed inside the gift wrapping without her knowledge.
"You sure you don't want these things eaten off your own dick," Steve cracked, and caused Candy to turn instant crimson.
Not that there was a shortage of condoms. Steve and some of his friends had decorated the place with inflated rubbers, hanging from every possible vantage point. "Hey, it's more creative than lamo balloons, right? This is a teen party, not a kids' party. I'm seventeen already!"
Steph and I gave Steve a CD, and Mark and Carol gave him a book on the History of Surfing, which was way damn cool. He also got loads of stuff from his friends... lots of CDs and mags. And one of his friends gave him a parcel of weed. Like most of Steve's friends, he was a rich dude... a 'larnie'.
Then Wingnut headed straight for the punch bowl, poured one for himself, and another for Candy, before the two of them took to the dance floor... one of those temporary hire thingies that prevented lawns from being churned into something unrecognizable by outa control, teen feet.
My little bro's hips were like on swivels when he danced, and quite a few people stood around to watch the Wingnut and Candy Show... well, mostly the Wingnut Show. And the little fucker was lapping up all of the attention like it was going outa style.
Tammy, Steve's girlfriend -- one who'd managed to stay attached to him for longer than 24 hours -- looked like a fucking goddess. She was wearing tight, black slacks, and like a bikini top. Steve's hands were all over her at every opportunity. Mind you, Tammy's hands were pretty busy as well... and I didn't blame her in the least. Hey, they were only going places where mine had already been plenty of times before. Steve had the kinda bod that was impossible to resist. Totally fucking awesome. Not to mention delicious. Then again, so was Mark's. And Wingnut's. Hmmm.
Anyway, it was still kinda early, so I didn't do much dancing 'cause I didn't wanna leave Carol to the mercy of the vultures, and there were just about as many of them as there were inflated condoms. So we just kinda cruised around and helped ourselves to the drinks. There was no shortage of those, either.
Steve had a vodka-filled bong going by the poolside. Just one hit from the damn thing was sending guys right out of it... so much so, that one of Steve's friends, and his girlfriend, jumped into the pool, where they took off their clothes, and threw them over the wall. It was no surprise to see a bunch of hands quickly descend on the clothes, grab them, and hide them. When the guy and his girl eventually exited the pool naked, it didn't faze them at all. What's more, it didn't faze anybody! Cool.
Actually, it was a totally cool party, and all of us ended up in the pool at least once. After we'd all had enough to drink -- more than enough, probably -- Wingnut and Candy "fell" into the pool. Yeah, right. He'd previously arranged for a friend of Steve's to "push" them into the water. His shirt had already been discarded, and he was wearing only his tank top, which clung to him like some superhero costume. He looked totally fucking wicked with his pecs bulging, and the definition of his abs showing through the wet cotton. Aaaagggghhhh!
When he and Candy had climbed outa the pool, they were both laughing their heads off as Wingnut stripped down to his wet boxers, which hid absolutely nothing... and the little Conan knew it. He was proud as all fuck of his cock, and rightly so.
Mark must've smoked a j between finishing work and arriving at the party 'cause he was totally relaxed, and in a good mood. He noticed the guys who'd beaten him up, but ignored them, and they ignored him, which was a relief. I figured the reason for that was that nobody wanted to spoil the party... so I guessed Steve must've had a word to the guys beforehand.
At almost midnight, one of Steve's friends drove Wingnut and Candy to her place 'cause she had to be home by 12. That was pretty cool 'cause Wingnut was in no condition to walk anywhere. But at least he remembered the convo.
"On the drive back, the guy told me that girls like Candy have to be home by midnight 'cause their pussies turn into pumpkins. So I told him that was cool 'cause I could eat her out."
"You ever eaten pussy?"
Throughout the night, Steve's bedroom, and all the other bedrooms in the huge house, including his folks', had been used for fuck sessions. Steve and Tammy disappeared at about 2am, only to return about half an hour later looking pretty happy. Steve was shirtless, and sweaty, and Tammy's hair looked like it'd been through a food processor at high speed.
Meantime, Mark and Carol were really enjoying themselves, while all of us were getting pretty trashed on booze. Mark and Steve hit the bong a few times at the pool, and it wasn't long before Mark was totally spaced out.
Wingnut also hit the bong, but became totally paranoid when he spotted me watching him. I didn't want my little bro to think I was some kinda fucking policeman 'cause that wasn't gonna stop him. I figured that was something he was gonna have to learn for himself. I was just hoping that he wouldn't have to find out the hard way like I did.
At about 4am, there were only a few of us remaining... Mark, Carol, Steph, Wingnut, me, plus a couple of Steve's friends and their girlfriends. The whole lot of us got naked in the pool 'cause we were just too damn trashed to know better... even Mark... which surprised the hell outa Carol. It wasn't all that long ago that Mark would've freaked big time about being naked in front of a bunch of guys, even though he had a bod to die for. The guys gave Carol a wide berth, though, mainly 'cause they were naked, and knew Mark would've drowned them if they'd caused any trouble.
I was pretty sure that one of Steve's friends had his dick up his girlfriend. They both had that look on their faces, and they weren't exactly treading water.
Then Wingnut heaved himself outa the pool, and sat on the edge, with his woody saying hi to the stars. Steph immediately recognized an ideal opportunity to give him her usual treatment, and swam between his legs before putting her hands on his thighs.
"I don't care, Steph. You can blow me right here. And if Kyle gives me any lip, I'll drown him."
She didn't. And he didn't.
It was almost 6am by the time Mark, Carol, Steph and I decided to head for home, and drag the trashed grommet along with us.
"Hey! I just realized! Nobody sang 'Happy Birthday'!"
Wingnut was still singing at the top of his voice as we walked down the road. Mark and Carol grabbed him, and tried to stop him from waking up the whole damn neighborhood, but the little fucker carried on regardless... even after Mark had slung the crazy grommet over his shoulder.
"Happy birthday dear Stevie, happy birthday to you!"
"Steve's not even here!"
"Doesn't matter! Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you... *hic*..."
"Hey, Mark, he's gonna decorate your back again."
"That's OK. I'll puke in his ear if he does that."
At Carol's place, we had coffee while Wingnut passed out on the floor, and became instantly comatose. The rest of us chatted for ages about the party, and Mark's pizza job.
So there ya go, B! A whole night without sex! :)
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