I was getting kinda used to having my ass planted on the pilion saddle of Nick's CBR. And it was helluva fun to be purring along on two wheels in the open air, with my arms wrapped around my friend. What a totally cool way to travel! Imagine that! Being able to hug a friend while you were being whisked along the road at 50 miles an hour. Woohoo!
South Africa
Part 7
On the way to Plettenberg Bay, we stopped off at the coffee shop where Nick still worked, and where I'd originally met him.
"Remember this?"
"Are you kidding? You were like some kinda miraculous vision."
"So were you."
"I didn't know how to react when I saw you 'cause I was with my folks, as well as Mark and Wingnut."
"Neither did I. Good thing you went to the toilet."
"By the way, were you checking out my cock, or the fact that I was pissing?"
"I'm not into piss. Are you?"
"I wasn't into tonguing rosebuds until I met you."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I dunno. I guess it just depends on the person you're with… y'know, what you wanna do or don't wanna do."
We stayed just long enough to say hi, and for me to buy some stuff for my folks. They would've been pissed off big time if I'd arrived home without a couple of souvenirs.
Plettenberg Bay was humming with crowds on holiday for Spring break, and it was a total rave. We took a walk from the Beacon Isle Hotel, which was built on a rock called 'Whale Rock', named after an old whaling station that was located there a long time ago, way before whaling became a no-no. These days, whales were my friends. I'd often see them while I was surfing my local beach. I had the utmost respect for those wonderful creatures, as well as everything else in the ocean. That's why my ambition was to be a marine biologist.
We walked for miles along the beach, enjoying the magnificent scenery, and each other, chatting about a whole bunch of stuff. It was good to feel the wet sand between my toes again.
"It's no wonder you've put your travel plans on hold," I remarked as I stooped to pick up a bit of driftwood that had just been carried ashore in the foamy wash.
"You mean 'cause of Lucky?"
"Not just Lucky. This is fucking paradise, man. You've got everything you need here."
"Almost."
"Hey, you don't need me. Anyway, this place is like a year-round holiday."
"I'd still like to travel, though. I'd like to see Australia some day. Meantime, I'm pretty happy here. The happiest I've ever been."
"You feel like a body surf?"
"Cool."
Just after lunch, we met up with Lucky in Knysna, and promised to visit his place later that afternoon. Lucky was busy doing some maintenance work for one of the stores at the waterfront complex. He was dressed in blue work trousers, and looked just as hunky as he did when naked. Jeez. What a guy!
The sun was still shining brightly when we arrived at Lucky's place. It wasn't what I'd imagined, though, and I was feeling a bit apprehensive as Nick and I rode through the African township, with its rows and rows of shanty houses, and small cottages. They were built around palm trees, huge yellow-woods, and pine trees. Lucky's mom lived in the center of the village in a plain-looking cottage with a small, neat, vegetable garden out front.
We'd no sooner dismounted from the bike, and removed our helmets, when Lucky's mom came rushing out the front door. Old and frail? Yeah, right. "Nicky!" she called, then wrapped her ample arms around my bud, and gave him a huge bear hug.
"Aunty B!"
I totally cracked when I heard that… aunty B… and wondered if Mr B would include this bit in the story.
"This is Kyle," he continued. "He's my friend I told you about from Cape Town."
The thing that immediately struck me was her command of English. Although she had a pronounced African accent, her English was perfect… and I guessed that was where Lucky got his knowledge of English from.
Aunty B was nowhere near as frail as Lucky had led me to believe. She was lively, and totally fucking fantastic, with a round, friendly face, and hair that was wrapped in a floral head-dress. She threw her arms around me as if she'd known me forever, and gave me a warm, affectionate hug.
By that stage, Lucky and his younger bro had come to see what all the fuss was about. The little guy was definitely like his bigger brother… nice body, and a big toothy smile. He also spoke perfect English as he shook my hand with a firm grip. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr Kyle."
It was a great evening, and the atmos was so cool that I felt completely at home. Lucky's mom's stew was rich, but delicious. It had meat, potatoes, and all kinds of vegies in it, and was served with thick slices of home-made bread, slathered with home-made butter. Everything we ate, except for the meat and butter, came outa her own garden.
Whoa! My first taste of the home-made beer almost made me puke 'cause of the strong, sour taste. My reaction sent Nick, Lucky, and everyone else into total hysterics. It was potent stuff, though. Nick settled for just one helping. The beer was served in a hollowed-out calabash [the halved shell of the fruit of the calabash tree… something like a coconut shell, used as a drinking vessel]. Once my taste buds had become used to the sourness, though, I really got into the stuff. Wheeee!
I'd had a wicked evening, and Lucky's mom was totally fantastic. She certainly loved her boys. Over dinner, she told us that Lucky was always at her to stay home, and do nothing. But she preferred to do washing and ironing in the town 'cause the money brought in those little extras that she could put on the table.
"I'll meet you at the pub," Lucky said as Nick and I straddled the bike.
"Pub?"
"Yeah… the same one we were at the other night. They've got a Friday night show on. I told you about it."
"Oh, fuck. I shouldn't have had so much beer."
Suddenly, the beer and the cool night air caused my head to spin. Yikes! I had to hang on for dear life as the CBR sped off down the road toward the bungalow.
The first thing I did when we got home was strip, and throw myself under the cold shower. I was hoping that the icy water would do me some good, and it did. Besides taking my breath away -- brrrrrr! -- it made me feel a lot better. Hmmm. Maybe not all that much better. I felt the need to puke, so I walked a few steps away from the bungalow, and did my thing. Not a pretty sight.
After that, I towelled, then had coffee with Nick inside. He threw a couple of items of clothing at me. Hello? Clothing? Blue lycra shorts, and a cut-off tank top?
"What are these?"
"Put them on… uniform. All the guys dress weird on a Friday night, and we're gonna have some fun. Get ready for a night without sleep."
OK. Weird was cool. I was way outa my home territory, so why not go the whole fucking hog? And why wear briefs? I pulled the lycra shorts up my legs, tucked in my semi, and checked myself in the mirror. Totally fucking cool! My furniture was nestled nicely in the built-in pouch of the shorts, which clung to me like they were two sizes too small. All the tank top did was cover my pecs. Hmmm. Party time like never before.
Nick was wearing black lycra shorts, and a white tank top, which was also cut away. Wicked!
"Hey, I just thought of something… what if the bike breaks down, and we've gotta call for help or something?"
"It won't break down."
"Jeez, I hope not."
The pub was humming by the time we got there. A four-piece rock band was on stage, playing some really good covers, including Live, and even some BSB. And then I saw it. Aaaaaggggghhhhhh! Lucky was wearing a leopard-skin, satin, thong thingy with his whole damn ass showing. On top, he wore a loose, cotton, leopard-skin t, plus matching arm and head bands. Whoa! If all Zulu warriors looked like that, who'd wanna run away?
"Whoa, Kyle, my man," he smiled, flashing his brilliant pearlies, and holding my crotch with one hand, "you're gonna make all these dudes stiiiiicky toniiiiiiight!"
"And you're not? Jeeeez."
Lucky gave Nick a huge kiss and hug, then thrust his hand into his bud's shorts. Hmmm, they're all pretty friendly around here. Imagine me doing that to Mark at Corners! Yeah, right.
Everyone was dancing, and having a great time. The drinks were flowing. Nick, being the sensible dude I'd come to know, had a few beers, but stuck mainly to sodas. Alcohol and bikes didn't mix. He was totally enjoying himself, though.
Later into the night, the two of us did a slow dance, chest to chest, with our hands inside the backs of each other's shorts as we glided across the floor. This was me? Yeah, it was. And I was a million miles away from Corners or Wipe Out. Both Nick and I were as sweaty as hell from all the previous wild dancing, and it felt so fucking cool. A couple of older dudes were like staring at us, and it made me feel pretty damn good. Why? 'Cause they were gawking [and admiring] a side of me that hadn't existed until now. It was like they were saying, "Hey, Kyle, you're looking fucking wicked!"
After a while, the band struck up this driving, sensual beat, which was the cue for four dudes to come on stage, and for the audience to be seated at their tables. The four dudes were dressed in overalls, with one strap hanging down, and wore black, studded collars around their necks. Two of them appeared to be about sixteen, but I guessed they must've been older. Hmmm. Oh, well. Whatever. The other two guys were in their early twenties. But all four were built like hunks.
We watched, mesmerized, as the guys gyrated to the pounding, sexy rhythm, then began to undress. Woohoo! This was fucking awesome!
The overalls were soon abandoned to reveal four black thongs hiding four delicious bulges. I was absentmindedly stroking myself. When I suddenly realized what I was doing, I looked around. Hey, everyone else was doing the same. Cool. Not only that, the guys on stage were also rubbing their thongs, and thrusting their crotches at the appreciative audience. Hello? What's happening now?
The guys stepped off stage and began to move amongst the tables. I watched in awe as patrons pushed tens, twenties, and even fifties into the straps of their thongs. They were kissing the customers. Then one of the younger dudes came over to our table. He was awesome! Hey, what was I talking about? Everything about this place was fucking awesome! Including me! I was in lycra shorts, and a cut-off tank top. Me. Yeah! And having the best time of my life!
Anyway, I watched Nick stuff a ten down the dancer's thong. Then the dancer gave Nick a kiss. Lucky did likewise, and also got a kiss. But Lucky had decided that the thong needed to come off. He lifted the elastic from below the guy's nads, and the thong shot up, revealing a perfect, cut cock, which had to be at least seven, delicious, mouthwatering inches. So what was I gonna do? I didn't know. I wasn't used to this kinda thing. Well, not in public… not with a whole bunch of people watching.Copyright © 2000 All rights reserved. mrbstories
