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The swimming tour

Posted by: Simon - 12-28-2025, 11:59 AM - Replies (1)

The swim team met at the school, where a bus was waiting to take us up to the coast. Everyone else's families were there too, even Mark's mom, which was pretty impressive. Nice. But I was surprised when he hugged her so tightly. Mark wasn't usually like that. He wasn't the type to show that kind of affection in public, and I'd never seen him hug her before, not even at home. On the other hand, there was a lot of shit he had to deal with because of her asshole boyfriend… shit his mom… I didn't know anything about that, so there was no doubt in my mind that he loved his mom. Stacks.

Wingnut, however, wasn't so keen on being hugged, which made me smile. His mother was practically choking the little guy, and from his wriggling, it was clear he was desperately trying to break free from her grasp.

My mother hugged me warmly as always, but my father knew he shouldn't overdo it. He didn't want to make a big fuss, so he just gave me a quick hug and then shook my hand. Actually, I wanted to... I had the impression that some of the people on the tour were more excited than the team itself. Because they could go home and have sex without having to worry about their children coming in.

The bus ride began with the usual noise and banter from the boys. But… After a while, as we drove into the night, the younger guys gradually arrived. Roy, one of the younger ones at Wingnut, must have dozed off. A wicked dream, because he had a massive erection that attracted the attention of the rest of the team. They paced up and down from both ends of the bus. They went into the aisle to take a look and then burst out laughing. Robbie, the guy who was sitting there, and Roy, who was standing next to him, gave his buddy a slap on the penis, which woke the boy up. It only took him a moment to realize what all the laughter was about, then he let out a long laugh, a string of insults, peppered with curses that would make even a sailor blush with despair.

Our accommodation during the tour was an apartment complex with six units. I was assigned to the team. I was housed with Mark, Ross, Kevin, Jumbo, and Carlos. The remaining seniors occupied two other units, while the juniors occupied the remaining three. One room had a double bed, which two teenagers had to share. The other two units each had two single beds, and I think Wingnut was very happy to have been assigned one of the single rooms. He shared it with Michael, Robbie, Brian, Marvin, and Dane. In the senior apartments, however… Each unit had two single beds… no double bed. Luckily, I shared a room with… Mark, Ross, and Kev shared another, and the third was shared by Jumbo and Carlos.

The view from the apartment was absolutely amazing… directly overlooking the beach and surfing, which immediately made me feel at home.

On the very first night, shortly after we arrived and were getting ready to go to sleep, Mark wanted to know if I had seen Steve.

"Yes, he came over last night. I wasn't expecting it and was pretty nervous." He called after dinner and asked if he could come over. He showed up in swim trunks and... he looked absolutely fantastic. Anyway, my dad scolded him for being around so rarely, but Steve just said he'd always been there. I was really busy. So we went to my room and sat on the bed. It was kind of awkward, and we started making small talk. He said you'd told him that we... He wanted to go on a week-long swimming trip and needed to get me checked out first.

"To apologize?"

"Something like that. Anyway, I asked him how things were going, and he said it was totally messed up." He said he'd totally blown it and wasn't sure if he could fix the damage. What he'd done to me. I thought he was talking about the stitches... not Steph. Then he told me that you thought you were the one who'd given me the stitches, and that he hadn't told you about the fight between Steve and me... he said he thought it was just between him and me. Then he said something pretty cool.

"How?"

“That you really like me,” I grinned. “So I told him that you’re a handsome…” “A good friend… when you haven’t been beating me up.” He laughed at that.

"Always that damn comedian."

"So he asked me if an apology would be enough, and I told him he'd said something." Such a load of crap... like screwing Steph because she needed a real man. You have no idea "how much that hurt."

"I think so."

"So he told me that his original intention had been to make me angry, and I agreed..." He did. And how! Then he went on to explain that the whole thing with Steph was just... him... that she had given in to him. But even while they were doing it, he knew that she was thinking about me. He said it made him angry and jealous that I already had her, and he knew even then that he couldn't take her away from me. He said that Steph had hoped I would never find out.

"You can blame me for that, kid."

"Then he wanted to know something about us... about him and me. He looked at his hands and..." He fidgeted, you wouldn't believe it. "I missed you, Kyle," he said. "I have no idea how I got into that depressing mood when you walked out my door that day. "The fight." So I told him I'd missed him too, and that I'd be lying if I said I'd seen him at the mall, in the pizzeria, in the restaurant, in the waves, and I wondered if we'd ever be friends again."

"Sounds like you're talking about more than just friendship."

"Yeah, that's me. You know me pretty well, Mark... you know what kind of guy I am. Anyway..." I told him there was something I needed to know... I wanted to find out about the guy who... I showed up at Steve's after he ran me over. So I asked Steve if he'd planned for the guy to beat me up. "I was scared shitless, Kyle," he said. "I've seen you beat up guys before, and I knew that's what you were like." "He's furious and he's planning the same thing for me."

“You can blame me for that too, mate,” Mark admitted. “I called him and told him you’d gone crazy.”

"Then he told me he'd arranged for the other guy to be a replacement, and that he, Steve, didn't think he'd hurt me. He said it was a nervous punch. Anyway, then... He asked me if we could be friends again, and I said 'cool.' After that, we went for a walk, about halfway to his house, without saying much, and stopped at a tree that we had once juiced."

"Was?"

"About a year ago, we were acting pretty crazy and walked home with erections." We stuck our swim trunks out of our shorts and goofed around. It was dark, so we stopped to get some juice. I asked him if he remembered, and he said, "Hey, how could I ever have forgotten?"

"You're a totally crazy guy, Kyle," Mark smiled and shook his head. "And so am I." Steve.

"So we hugged, and I went home feeling like I was in seventh heaven. It was so..." "A cool farewell gift, and I was totally hyped up."

Our first day of the tour was a relaxed one… to settle in a bit. We spent some time on the beach that morning, watching the locals surf. I wanted to rent a board right away. We were there, but not for long enough. Meanwhile, Wingnut was hanging out with the younger students, who, I suspected, were all scared stiff and wondering what was going on. Initiation ritual. Mark, Kev, and Ross were on the initiation committee. I had decided against it. Because of Wingnut. I would have ended up feeling sorry for him, and that would have been… In the end, it wasn't so cool for him anymore. All the older students who had been informed beforehand were allowed to watch.

Later, we all went to the aquarium to watch the dolphin show, which was absolutely amazing! The dolphins were so incredibly beautiful, with their shiny, smooth, muscular bodies. They leaped out of the water. The aquarium was a research station for dolphins. There were many dolphins, some of which were stranded or had been caught in ship propellers.

In the evening, we all went to the local McDonald's for burgers and fries. There we met up with one of the other schools participating in the competition. They were also from Cape Town and were our arch-rivals.

A certain guy there, Brandon, thought he was on top of the world. He'd won everything in his age group for the past three years. Anyway, he started causing trouble when he shoved one of the younger guys out of line so he could be first in line. Wingnut was also in line and objected to Brandon's bullying tactics. The kid didn't know the guy, but typical of him... Wingnut told him to get lost anyway.

"Fuck off! I'll finish you off, you weakling. Go back to your fucking ghetto."

Ross, who had been watching, stepped in and pushed Wingnut aside. "Hello, Brandon."

"Hi Ross. What's wrong with the rim of your glow plugs? They need to be seated deeper." "Get a grip, man."

“I will. But be careful what you say. They were first in line.”

"Who says that?"

“I said. Now move, or should I move you?”

I could see Ross was totally out for a fight. Brandon could see it too. So he stepped aside and let the younger guys take their place in front of the... But Brandon was the type who always had to have the last word, even in line. Defeat. "Screw you, Ross, if you're standing behind me in the competition tomorrow," he said, growling, and then walked away.

The younger students thought Ross was fantastic because he had everything so well under control. They treated him like a hero… at least for a while. Meanwhile, Mark was… checking out the girls and talking about one of their cute butts, and another one had cute breasts. Mind you, the girls were eyeing the whole team up. So.

Back at the apartments, the juniors were called to the coach's accommodation, where Ross explained the procedure for the entrance exam. They all had to report to our apartment later that evening, wearing their Speedos. "And bring a towel. But that's all." Nothing else.

Of course, the coach wasn't present at the induction ceremony. There was no way he could have officially condoned this behavior, even though he was aware of it. So he went to an event with some of the other coaches from the team. What I noticed about the coaches was that they all got along quite well… but only until the competition started. Then all hell broke loose!

After nightfall, the young people were called to our apartment. We had moved beforehand, bringing all the furniture from the living room to one of the other rooms. A few chairs and a table, where the initiation took place, remained in the living room. The committee met, while the other seniors stood behind them as observers.

The atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Damn! If this initiation went that far… If it was even remotely like what we experienced as juniors, we all would have had a pretty good time. We had an idea of what was about to happen. Or did we?

Mark, Kev, and Ross were also wearing their Speedos and had the most serious expressions on their faces. The wide-eyed, worried expressions of the younger people who marched into the room seemed to be asking themselves: What the hell was going to happen to them?

The rest of us tried desperately not to laugh ourselves silly. And Wingnut? Hey, he looked like the world was ending and he'd peed his pants with fear. Time.

Once everyone was settled and organized, Ross gave the juniors the usual speech. “Listen up, guys. This initiation is supposed to be fun for the guys.” Those who have been through it before. So you have to try and take part. This whole attitude thing. It’s not like it’s the end of the world, even if you might think so, there’s absolutely nothing to worry about… Provided, of course, that you’ve all made your wills. Ready, guys?

Continue reading..

Codeman

Posted by: Simon - 12-28-2025, 11:04 AM - Replies (19)

Quote:He mentioned death from time to time in his email to me, usually in a joking way but not always. Cody’s story, however, is not about death, it’s about life and how he lived it to the full. It’s about a teen who had an enormous impact on almost everyone he met, on or off line, including me. BIG TIME! Until now, I hadn’t the confidence to assume Cody’s persona in telling his story in an autobiographical style. But I guess I knew Cody as well as anyone, and certainly better than most. He confided in me things that his folks and best friends never knew about with the possible exceptions of Steve and Paul. But even they weren’t privy to everything Cody told me. Due to computer crashes, viruses, and various other disasters over the years, not all of Cody’s email to me exists. A large proportion of it does, though, thanks to his surfer bud and lover Steve who managed to rescue it from Eudoramail and send it to me. All I have of the first year of my friendship with Cody is a zip of my replies to his mail. But that’s enough to jog my memory. I also have lots of snippets of stuff he wrote in the early days [pre Wingnut, Mark and Steve], so that will help as well. From early 1999 to late 2001 a great deal of everything he wrote me is intact… if not in the emails themselves, at least in the notes I copied and pasted when I was writing the Wingnut and Mark stories. So here it is; the last four and a bit years of the Codeman’s life – my best friend and soul buddy – a friend I will never forget – a friend I will be eternally grateful to have had. Admittedly, parts of this story will overlap the Wingnut and Mark stories, but those parts will be told from Cody’s perspective, so they’ll have a freshness about them.

Part 1
INTRODUCTION

The web was a whole new world for me; a 15-year-old teen from Cape Town, South Africa. It gave me a chance to meet dudes from other countries, especially gay dudes that I could chat to about my probs. Probs? I didn’t consider myself gay, straight, bi or what-fucking-ever, but the fact was that Paul, my best friend, and I were lovers. Nothing too dramatic. Just blow jobs. He gave me my first BJ when I was 12.
“Hey? What the fuck are you doing, Paul?” We’d been playing in his garden, when he started to do something really weird, like kneeling in front of me and fooling with my crotch.
“Just stand there and relax, Code,” he said as he took my dick outta my boxers.
“Yeah, right. What are you gonna do?”
“Give you a BJ.”
I’d heard about BJs from the guys at school, but that kinda thing happened between guys and chicks. Right? Not between guys and guys, unless… Jeez! “I don’t think you should be doing this, Paul. We’re buds, not… whatever.” I didn’t wanna use the word gay.
But my protest went unheeded. Maybe I wasn’t protesting strongly enough. There was a part of me that was curious about what it would be like. Whoa! I couldn’t believe the bolts of electricity that zapped through my stiffened, arched body, and the totally awesome thrills that centered around my crotch as his lips and tongue worked my sensitive cockhead. How could anything feel this good? Then he took his mouth away, and looked up at me.
“Have you ever cum before?”
“Nope.”
“Not much point in doing this then.”
“Yes, there is! It feels totally damn wicked!”
“Five minutes ago you were freaking.”
“Five minutes ago I didn’t know how fucking awesome a BJ could be. You wanna keep going?”
“For how long?”
“I’ll tell you when to stop.” Yeah, right, hehehe.
So that’s the way it started; him and me giving each other BJs every time we slept over at each other’s houses. Or even sometimes in the garden. But it wasn’t ‘til I was 13 that I blew my first load of Cody juice into his mouth. We’d already discussed what we would do if one of us offloaded, and we’d promised each other that we would swallow. Shortly after that, he blew his first load. Tasted kinda cool, actually. Not like I thought it would. Mmmm! I could handle more of that.
Anyway, the difference between getting a BJ and not cumming, and getting a BJ and cumming, was like chalk and fucking cheese. No fucking comparison at all! The first time I blew, it felt like all my strength was leaving my bod in a huge rush and jetting down his throat. And the sensation of his tongue massaging my exploding cockhead was so fucking intense, it was bordering on pain. I could handle more of that, too. Smile

Somehow I managed to rationalize the sex between Paul and me as something special between two buds who were closer than bros. It was our secret, and it didn’t matter if no one else would ever know. It hadn’t made any difference to us as guys. We surfed with the best of them, played cricket and football. We were both on the school swim team. We were regular guys just like any of the other guys at school. Maybe even a bit more macho than most. Neither of us had ever backed away from a fisty, not even with each other. Hey, we’d been bashing the crap outta each other since kindergarten, but that never stopped us from being best friends.
So I guessed it was Paul who taught me that there was nothing wrong with two buds being close; sharing affection and love in a physical way that involved intimacy. Even tongue kissing! Hey, it wasn’t like we were fucking or anything serious like that. The thought had crossed my mind from time to time, but I didn’t really wanna contemplate that possibility. I wasn’t ready to label myself as being anything drastic, especially gay. As far as my folks and other friends were concerned, I was completely normal.
But discovering the web at age 15, and other guys like me, eventually changed all that. Not completely, mind you. Life at home and school was the same as always. The only difference was that I had two worlds; one at home and one on the net. And I intended to keep them strictly separate. If word had ever gotten out at school about what I was up to, the guys would have made my life totally fucking hell.
At first, I figured the guys I met in chat would think I was totally lamo if they knew I was Safrican, so I pretended to be a teen from Tennessee. I wanted to make friends. Being an American would make me more interesting and desirable. I met Damian, a guy from California with a totally cool web site called Boy Godz, and another guy named TJ. He was really from Tennessee! Both were awesome hunks, and we soon became friends. We called ourselves The Earthboys.
Many of the really cool guys had a web site, so I had to have one, too! Woohoo! I called it Cody’s World. It was mainly about sports like swimming and surfing, which gave me the opportunity to post pics of hunks in Speedos hehehehe. But I didn’t wanna make the site look gay. In my bio, I talked about having a girlfriend and also friendship in general, and about now neat the web was cos you could make a stack of friends in chat. I was proud of all the friends I’d made, and wanted the whole world to know. At least the world wide web.
Access to the web and chat was pretty easy for me. My dad had a comp, but I didn’t use it to get on line very often. The phone bill would’ve blown him outta the fucking water. So I used my dad’s comp to copy text and pics to diskette, and upload them to my page next morning using the comps in the school lab. I’d arrive early in the mornings before swim prac or classes. That’s also when I spent time in chat. Mornings for me were evenings in the northern hemisphere.
Eventually, though, I got the guilts big time about pretending to be an American, so I wrote an email to Damien, explaining who I really was, and apologizing for lying. He posted my email and his response to it on his site, plus a pic of my face. When I saw it, I freaked. Totally. It was a private pic, for his personal use only. The whole fucking world now knew what I looked like. Word would get around Cape Town in a fucking millisecond and my life would be ruined. I’d be thrown outta school, and maybe even outta home!
I wrote to Damien, asking him to take my pic off his site. LIKE NOW! He did, but not before some old dude in Oz placed a note on my site’s guestbook to say that he’d seen my admission of guilt on Boy Godz and was impressed. “I’m also impressed with Damien’s response to your admission. He’s right. It’s the person you are that matters, not where you come from. I’ve also taken a look at your site, and I must congratulate you on that as well. I’m a fairly regular visitor to Damien’s site, and will be to yours in the future. Keep up the good work! Gary.”
I wrote a short note to Gary, thanking him for his words, while taking the opportunity to tell him a little something about myself. I figured he’d be interested in my bod. Hey, everybody on the net was interested in dicks and butts. Right? So I told him that I had a bit of a complex about my larger-than-average lips “but my friend Paul isn’t complaining”, and that my dick was six inches hard “but about the same length when it’s soft”.
I must’ve shocked the hell outta the old dude cos I could almost see the redness of his face in his words when he wrote back. Hehehehe. But he was friendly and kinda funny as well. It occurred to me that maybe I could tell this guy stuff that I couldn’t tell other guys on the web – let alone friends in real life – like some of the shit that was bugging me. He’d given me the impression that he was more interested in me as a person than he was in my dick, although that didn’t stop me from teasing the hell outta him as our email became more regular.
By the time Christmas 1997 had rolled around, Gary had gotten to know a fair bit about me, including my interests in surfing, hiking, and competitive swimming. He was beginning to treat me like some kinda fucking hero or something. But, hey, that was cool. I enjoyed having my ego massaged. J I also told him about Paul and me, and the blow jobs. The more I told him, the more amazed he became, saying stuff like, “I’ve never met anyone like you before! You’re incredible!” At the same time, Damien, TJ and I were getting along famously. Like I said, the web was a great place to meet and make friends and share the kinda stuff you couldn’t share with your school buddies or your folks.
Gary told me that he had a friend in Orlando, Florida whose name was Dave. He had a web site, too, with some pretty cool G rated boy pics. Dave had asked Gary to write a story for inclusion on his site, but Gary turned him down, saying that he wasn’t interested in writing stories, nor did he have the patience. But something changed Gary’s mind hehehehe. ME! I sent him a story written by John ‘Teentales’ called ‘Caring For Cody’, and that – as well as my mail – became his inspiration.
While Dave was en route by car to California to work as webmaster for a company there, Gary took the opportunity to write a bunch of stories about a character he called Daniel, and emailed them to me one at a time to ask my opinion. He was churning out a chapter a day. By the time Dave had reached San Diego, and gotten back in touch with Gary, Gary had written about 15 chapters.
“I’ve decided not to give them to Dave to use on his site. He’s pretty pissed off about that but, hey, I can write something else for him. I think I’m on to something here, Cody. I can’t believe how enthusiastic you are about the Daniel stories. You’re the best audience a writer could hope for! So I figure there’s a chance I can start my own site. A story site!”
Gary had been telling me about an idea he and Dave had been working on for almost a year. A site called Teen Idol. That kinda freaked Paul out cos he thought Gary was trying to convince me to take part. No fucking way, not if it meant publicity and exposing my true identity. Anyway, I trusted Gary not to be the kinda dude who would try to use me, or any other teen for that matter. In any case, Gary was having a lotta trouble trying to raise the money to finance the site, which would involve a lotta traveling around the world doing interviews with teens from various countries, and writing stories about them.
“Daniel is the miracle I’ve been looking for, Cody! I don’t need to travel to find him or his buds. He’s already right here in my head! I don’t need a financial backer. And from what you’ve told me, I’m a good enough story teller to make it work. Hopefully, Dave and his connections on the web will help me set up a site – Daniel Stories. Dave can do all the webmastering, and I can write the stories. He’s even gonna loan me the cash to get the thing started. Cool, huh?”
The only prob I had with the Daniel stories was knowing more about Daniel’s mom than I did about his buddy Paul. “Tell me more about Paul, for fuck sake!” I also had to correct some of the things Gary wrote about BJs – “Don’t you know ANYTHING about blow jobs, Gary?” – and had to advise him on certain aspects of Daniel’s character. At one stage, after Daniel and Paul had had their first fight, Daniel was getting a bit fucking wussy. “Daniel’s not that kinda dude, Gary. He wouldn’t just accept all that crap from Paul and Freddie. Well, I wouldn’t, anyway.”
Gary was a pretty good listener. He took my criticism on the chin, and went about making changes here and there according to my input. But it didn’t take the old dude long to catch up, and even surpass me. Pretty soon he was surprising the hell outta me, and giving me massive boners whenever I read a new chapter. “That was just soooo totally, totally, totally, fucking awesome!” He’d become a master story teller in just a month or two. And could describe sex between two or more guys like no other.
He and Damien had become good friends as well, but that relationship kinda nose-dived after a while when Damien realized that Gary was totally besotted by me hehehehe. Hey, what could I do? Besides, I was kinda getting attached to Gary as well, even though he was a self-proclaimed fossil. I found myself telling him a lot more about myself than I’d ever intended.

Continue reading..

Mark

Posted by: Simon - 12-28-2025, 10:31 AM - Replies (19)

Quote: "I just want to say a few words about my friend Cody. I want to tell Mr and Mrs T that all our thoughts are with them always and I want to thank them for taking me into their home and treating me like a son.

"I'll tell you how special my friend was. When other people were writing me off and I was really on a road to ruin my life, Cody came into it. We got off to a pretty rocky start by trying to beat each other up at school. I realized then that Cody was dangerously full of courage and I was determined to beat him up and show him who was boss. How do you beat a spirit that wont die? After one of my many other encounters, and I ended up in hospital, the only person from school that visited my bed was Cody. Even then I didn't appreciate him. In fact I never trusted his motives. Maybe he was there to smirk. At least that is what I thought. I accepted his friendship with a degree of suspicion. As I got to know him, I realized that he was gutsier than I thought. He was like a dog with a bone and worked hard at winning me over. I was stubborn and suspicious. As our friendship grew, I came to understand the enormous love that Cody had. Not just for people. He loved the mountain, which he called his mountain. He had a passion for the sea in which he spent so much of his life. Most of all he had an enormous love for his family and friends. There were some of us who were closer to Cody than others and my heart goes out to Wingnut, Paul, Steve and Steph. We knew Cody probably better than most, besides his folks. He shared with us a love that has no measure and I will forever be in his debt because God help me if Cody had not fought his way into my life. He has given me lessons of life and memories that I will hold dear for the rest of my life, and which I will treasure with every breath I take.

Part 1

This is a true story. Mark is the kind of guy you might not like to begin with, but I'm sure you'll warm to him as the story progresses.

When I joined the swim team at school, I thought it might create an opportunity to make a close bud. I was dead wrong. Sure, the guys were cool but I still had trouble getting to know them. Something would always hold me back so that I'd keep them at an arm's length. Maybe I was meant to be a loner. In any case, being alone meant that I couldn't get hurt. I'd already been hurt enough by my parents' divorce. Now, I was living with my mom who depended on me to fix things around the house, and to do all the guy stuff. But it sucked serious fucking butt not to have a dad like the other kids did.

To disguise my unwillingness to get too close to people, I acted tough and mean. My hair was shaved. I figured if I looked aggro enough, guys would keep their distance. I wanted to be the one who made decisions about choosing a friend, not them. The guys who were friendly toward me did it outa fear more than anything. They were shit scared of me and figured hanging with me was cool. But they weren't what you'd call friends -- just guys who hung around 'cause I was the fucking man.

I had no trouble attracting girls, though. Shit, they hung around me like a bad smell. Why? 'Cause I had a hot bod, I guess. I mean, I'd have to be fucking blind not to know that most guys couldn't hold a fucking candle to my physique. I worked hard at staying in shape, and I was lucky to have had a naturally muscular build in the first place.

One of the things that really helped me cope with my aggression was the school gym. I'd go there early in the mornings before swim prac and thump the fucking shit outa the punching bag. Sometimes, I'd pretend that it was somebody I disliked. Yeah, that was a wicked feeling. I was always alone in the gym, so that was cool, too. I enjoyed privacy when I was working out with the bag. Doing weights was another of my fav pastimes, and it helped with my swimming.

There was one guy on the team who really pissed me off. His name was Kyle -- one of those smartass bastards who was always laughing and joking -- Mr Fucking Popular. Yeah. He was also one of the team's best swimmers. Kyle was a good friend of Ross's, another top swimmer, and the team captain. A while back, when I was clubbing with some of the guys, Ross got trashed and told me how he and Kyle had jacked each other off on a hiking trip. I knew Ross was straight, though, 'cause he was pretty seriously into his girlfriend. So that meant that Kyle was probably a fag.

It was after swim prac one day when Ross, Kyle and I were in the showers. I was a few yards away from them, but I could hear them talking. Ross had a massive boner, and Kyle was ragging him about it.

"Man, I'm still so fucking horny! I was at my girlfriend's place last night and we were getting ready to fuck when her dad walks in and sees my cock in her hand. He goes totally fucking ballistic and tries to fist me, but I bolted outa there with my pants still around my ankles," Ross laughed. "Anyway, her old man phones my dad, and my dad says it was his daughter's hand around my son's cock and to get real."

"What a fucking dickhead! Does your girlfriend's dad really think you're going to stop seeing her?"

"Too bad if he does. We're going clubbing on Saturday night, and I'm gonna fuck her lights out."

Kyle, by this time, had a raging boner as well. I wasn't sure if he was turned on by Ross's story or the sight of his bud stroking his throbber. I had to admit to myself, though, that watching Ross's hand riding his thick, hard, teen meat under the shower was making me helluva horny, too.

"Hey, Kyle," Ross laughed as he fisted his hardon, "if you had a pussy, man, I'd fuck you right here and now."

Kyle turned his back on his bud and pulled his ass cheeks apart. "Does this look familiar?"

Both guys cracked up big time. I did, too, but mainly 'cause I didn't want them to think I was some kinda lamo. Deep down, I resented Kyle's popularity and the way he could make other guys laugh.

The following day, I'd punched the fucking shit outa the bag in the gym again, but I was still feeling pretty aggro. Later, at recess, the sight of Kyle strutting around the quad looking like Mr Fucking Popular was getting under my skin, big time. There were a few guys standing around me, so I told them about what had happened in the shower the previous afternoon. The guys dared me to taunt Kyle.

"Hey, gay boy!" I yelled across the quad.

The spiky-haired kid glared at me with his hazel eyes, then strode up to where I was standing. "Say what?"

"Do you show your ring to everybody? Or is it just Ross you fancy?" The guys around me starting laughing, and I knew that I had this fucker cornered. "You're a fucking faggot."

The commotion caused a bunch of other kids to gather around, including Ross who was standing behind Kyle and whispering something into his ear. I was still laughing when a flurry of fists sent me flying backwards and down on my ass. I wiped my nose and mouth with the back of my hand and saw blood. I also saw red! I was gonna kill the cunt! By the time I'd scrambled to my feet, though, there were a couple of guys restraining me.

"What's going on here?" a teacher monitor demanded as he made his way through the crowd.

"It's OK," Ross lied. "This guy just tripped and hurt himself."

Later at swim prac, Ross took me aside. He wasn't the kinda dude you'd argue with and win. He was bigger than I was and could've flattened me with one hand tied behind his back. Besides, he was the team captain.

"I should pull you off the fucking swim team, asshole, but Kyle asked me not to. He said you got what was coming and that I should leave it at that. You've gotta learn a few things, Mark. All us guys fool around like Kyle does. Hell, last year Darren, who's at college now, used to whack off in the showers whenever he felt like it, like it was no biggie. And when we go on tour, we all brown-eye the passing cars from the bus. So you'd better chill, man. We don't need any of your fucking aggro crap on this team. Loosen up, OK? Or fuck off."

That night over dinner, mom started giving me the third degree again. "Have you made any friends on the team, son?"

"Nope. They're all lamos."

"That's what you say about everybody, Mark. Surely they can't all be lamos, as you put it."

"Don't gimme any grief, mom. I just don't like the guys. OK?"

"Sometimes I wish your father were here to sort you out. You and your shaved head, and all this anti-social behaviour."

"Forget it, mom!" I snapped as I left the table and headed to my room. I was furious with that fucking smartass Kyle, and there was no way he was gonna get off lightly. I seized my chance the next afternoon after swim prac. He was the last one outa the pool and I was waiting for the creep.

"OK, dude, there's nobody around to see us, so let's have it out."

"I've got nothing to have it out for, man," he shrugged. "I hit you 'cause of what you said in front of the whole damn school."

I pushed him to get him riled, but he just started walking toward the change rooms. I'd already planned to counter that little maneuver, though. A friend of mine was waiting at the entrance. "You don't get through until Mark says it's OK, dude."

The moment Kyle turned around to face me, I hit him right in the breadbox. He went down like a stone and passed out. The next morning, as the fuckwit arrived at school, I smiled at him. All my hangers-on were smiling at him, too, letting him know that if he fucked with me, he was dead meat. He walked past without so much as a peep, so the dude had obviously learnt his lesson.

With that outa the way, I figured I had respect from the guys on the team, so I walked up to Ross and Kyle at swim prac and tried to make friendly convo. "Piss off, Mark. Kyle's times are down because of what you did, asshole." I glanced at Kyle and got the impression that he wasn't mad at me, and that maybe he even felt sorry for me. The fucker should have hated me, but he didn't. Or, at least, he didn't show it. Why?

That night, I thought about all the shit that had happened. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I make friends like other dudes did? Why was I so fucking aggro? Yeah, I'd fucked up badly, but what was I gonna do about it? How come everybody liked Kyle? I'd called him a faggot in front of the whole damn school and, later, punched his lights out. But the team still liked him more than me. Well, truth was, they didn't like me at all. Fuck it, making friends was outa my league. Who needed the fuckers anyway. I was better off being alone.

I decided to forget about all the friendship crap and just concentrate on my gym work and swimming. Ross and Kyle qualified for the 100 and 200 freestyle, while I qualified for the 200. The three of us finished almost on top of each other.

There was a school swim tour coming up pretty soon and, although we were on a week's holiday from school, the team practiced every day from about nine in the morning. As time went along, I got friendlier with the guys, maybe 'cause I wasn't trying so hard. I was also getting to know Kyle a bit better. He wasn't the showoff that I'd first thought -- he was a genuinely friendly dude who got a kick outa making people laugh. I guessed he was kinda growing on me. Ross, on the other hand, was being very business-like. The only time he talked to me, it was about swimming. He wasn't friendly at all. I figured it was gonna be a while before he got his fucking knickers untangled about the shit I'd dumped on Kyle.

I didn't know if it was just my imagination or whatever but, in the showers, I would occasionally catch Kyle checking out my bod. It was only for a split second or so -- not as if he was gawking or anything -- just a quick, sideways glance -- but it was hard to shake the feeling that he admired my bod. That was cool, though. Heck, why shouldn't he? Actually, he was a bit of a head-turner himself.

Before I'd joined the team, I thought that guys didn't talk about other guys' bods. But I'd soon learned that that wasn't the case at this school. Dudes often sized each other up and awarded points out of ten. The guy who'd left school and gone on to college, Darren, showed up at prac one day and was shouting the odds, and calling Kyle a piece of shark shit. He challenged Ross, Kyle and a couple of other guys to a race. I was feeling a bit pissed at not having been chosen but I didn't know the guy. Anyway, Kyle, with his usual enthusiasm, yelled, "Yeah! Let's go!"

When I first saw Darren, I could understand what Ross had meant when he told me about this guy jacking off in the showers when ever he felt like it. He was off the scale when it came to points from zero to ten. He was one of those guys you just couldn't help admiring -- perfect physique and a strong personality that dominated the group. But the thing that really amazed me was that nobody was embarrassed about ogling him. That made be feel better 'cause I was ogling him, too. It was impossible not to. He was awesome.

As for points in the bod stakes, Ross was a ten while I scored an eight. But eight was pretty cool considering how many guys on the team had killer bods. Kyle? Well, he didn't make eight but he was still pretty hot, not that there was any fucking way in the world that I was gonna tell him.

All the talk about bods and points eventually led to one of the guys suggesting that we put on a strip show for the girls. Strip show? Cool! If a bunch of guys could give me an eight, the girls would go ballistic. I figured it was a neat idea and threw my hat into the ring, but Ross shook his head. "No way, Mark. You're not invited."

Continue reading..

Steve

Posted by: Simon - 12-28-2025, 10:12 AM - Replies (19)

Quote:One of Cody's closest friends and lovers was Steve. Cody wrote me often about him. Steve was a living, walking god to Cody, and deservedly so. But there was much more to Steve than Cody knew. Steve will now tell that part of his own story. It's not a pretty tale. You'll read stuff that makes you angry, or sad. You'll laugh and you'll cry. Your heart will break, but it will be mended again. This is a story of a mammoth struggle. Will it have a happy ending? Only time will tell. I'm writing it as it is being told to me.

Part 1

MrB aka Gary wants to write my story. Hahahaha! Can you fucking believe that? Says it's probably the most important story he's ever written. Yeah, right. He wants a hero, and I'm no fucking hero. He wants me to step into Cody's shoes, but I'm no Cody. I'm no Wingnut or Mark either. I'm a druggie. When things get tough, I get trashed. Hey, I get trashed anyway. What the fuck. It's easy to get. Too easy.
You're not gonna like a lotta the stuff you read here. And that's weird 'cause Gary always writes stories about guys he likes and respects. He keeps telling me that I've got what it takes to be the dude Cody always wanted me to be. Cody loved me. He loved my bod. Hey, we made love just two days before he died. Fucking awesome as always. But he hated me using drugs. He would have hated it even more if he'd known how deeply into the drug scene I was. Was? Yeah, was. I've been pretty clean for a couple of weeks, 'cept for two occasions which weren't my fault. I'll tell you about those later.

The day before Cody was killed, he phoned me. "It's gonna be a fucking rave, Steve! C'mon! Let's fucking party!" I knew some of the guys he worked with. They were getting together for a few beers as a kinda end of year bash. But I was on a mission with my girlfriend to get laid, so I passed. How do you think I feel about that? I was porking my girl while he was laying crushed in a heap of twisted metal that used to be car. How do I live with myself knowing that if I'd been with him, he might still be alive? I can't sleep. His words, "It's gonna be a rucking rave, Steve! C'mon! Let's fucking party!" keep rolling around in my head. Maybe if I'd been with him that night, we would have both been killed in that motor accident. How cool would that have been? I'd be with him, my friend and lover, and I wouldn't have any more problems.

But, no. Gary insists on having his fucking hero. He's gotta be kidding. After I'd received the news of Cody's death, I asked his neighbor John to write Gary and let him know. I didn't have the guts. So what kinda fucking hero am I? I knew that Gary thought the sun shone outa Cody's ring, and I just couldn't bring myself to tell him. Besides, I was trashed. Constantly trashed. The night I heard about Code's death, I went on an acid trip and was out of it for four days. And Gary wants me to be a hero? Ha!

I've written to Gary repeatedly and told him that I'm not the hero type. But he won't fucking listen. I even wrote him a couple of times when I was trashed, but it's like water off a duck's back. The guy just answers me like it's no biggie, and keeps pointing out all the positive stuff. What positive stuff?

OK. So I'm listening. I'm hearing him. It's not like I don't have a vision of my future. I'll be repeating my last year of high school 'cause Code's death, among other things, prevented me from writing my final exams last year. Then I intend to do a business management course at university after I graduate from high school.

After being bombarded with a truckload email from Gary, I began to realize why Cody loved that old dude so much. At first, though, my responses were pretty formal. I didn't want Gary to know what was happening to me. I didn't want to spoil the image that Cody had painted of me in his emails to Gary. Y'know, the tall blonde, super fit, super hunk, surfer god. I helped Gary by creating some graphics for his web site. I figured they'd ease his pain a little, and ease it for me as well. Doing stuff for Gary also meant doing stuff for Code. MrB and The Captain were soul buddies. I also got Mark's and Paul's tribute speeches and sent them to Gary for inclusion in the final chapter of the Mark story.

But the more I wrote Gary, and the more he replied, the more I revealed about myself - the dark side of my character. I found myself telling him things I'd never told anyone else. Bad things. Evil things. I'd check the comp the next day, expecting to see all hell break loose, but no. He'd stick a rocket up my ass, but it was a pretty diplomatic rocket. And he'd keep raving on and on and on about my potential to be a hero. That guy just didn't know when to fucking quit! Hey, neither did Cody.

I admitted to things I had deliberately done to hurt Code, like fucking his girlfriend Steph. I admitted to organizing a couple of my druggie buds to beat the shit outa Mark at a club one night. I hated the friendship that had developed between Code and Mark, and their closeness. I was insanely jealous. I wanted Code all to myself. But when things turned out in Code's favor, which they always did eventually, I'd go on another drug binge and send myself to another planet. Little did I realize then that Code had enough love to share with everyone. He had a limitless supply.

Cody found me lying in my own puke one morning in my room, and we ended up fighting. I was out of it, and he beat the shit outa me. Cody was powerfully strong, and when he hit you, you knew you'd been hit. But he only ever lashed out when he was angry. Like I said, he hated me using drugs. And when he was angry, there would be fire blazing in his hazel eyes as he screamed at me. But fighting also made him horny. There were many times after we'd punched the crap outa each other, that we would end up making love. He would write poetry:

GOLDEN GOD
Hard muscle
Covered by silky gold.
Piercing blue eyes
Looking into my soul.

Steph was also taking drugs before she met Cody. She was on e and coke. She went on a program to stop using. She did that for Cody. I thought about it, too. But, y'know. Maybe tomorrow. But tomorrow never really came. I'd tried and failed a stack of times. So what was the use? I was into it too deep. I was not only using, I was also selling to support my habit, and to have some cash in my pocket. Cody never knew about that. He thought the stuff I had in my room was my own stash. Paul and Mark knew about it, though. They'd score off me now and then. Nothing hard. Just grass. Mark and I got along OK, I guess. But Paul hated me. He was the cleverest, and saw through me straight away. The only reason he tolerated me was 'cause Cody liked me, and he loved Cody big time.

Anyway, I did my best to convince Gary that I was a poes [Safrican slang for cunt] and he agreed hahahaha! But he kept insisting that that needn't be the end of the fucking story. That I could change. That I could be up there on the pedestal Cody saw me on. That I could be respected and loved by the very people who now loathed me, including myself. Yeah, right. The idea was cool, but the reality was a totally different thing.

Nevertheless, I was trying to do as he asked. Maybe this time, for Code, I could do it. I was hanging quite a bit with Steph, much to the chagrin of my girlfriend. But I'd always loved Steph. Needless to say, after a few arguments with my girlfriend, we split. Wingnut was also hanging around, wanting to go surfing, and even asking if he could sleep over one night. I figured he saw me as Code's buddy, so that was some kinda comfort to him. The poor little dude - whoa! not so little anymore - would spend a lotta time sitting in Code's room, listening to Code's music. To the grommet, Code's room was "their" room, and it was still just as Code had left it. A shrine to the main man.

On the morning of November 03, 2001, Wingnut breezed into Code's room as usual to bounce on his bed. He loved doing that after Code had had a night out. But there was no Code. When Code's folks broke the news, Wingnut was totally devestated, and spent ages on Code's bed crying his poor grommet heart out. Those two guys were close. And I mean real close. How that little dude coped I'll never know, but I figured Code's folks must have helped a lot. Come to think of it, Wingnut probably helped them too. He'd become a permanent fixture in that house over the past couple of years.

Steph and I took Wingnut to see "Lord of the Rings" just before Christmas. We'd become like a family - bros and sis. At the time, I was also working on a special Cody Christmas graphic to send Gary to post on his site. So I was keeping myself occupied, and off the heavy stuff. Hopefully.

On Christmas day, Steph and I rocked over to Code's place to be with his folks. We were like family to them, too. They treated all of Code's friends like family. Steph had bought his folks a plant - an African violet. Code's mom had tears in her eyes when Steph gave it to her. Even his dad was quite choked up. It was pretty obvious that Code's folks were still taking a lot of strain.

Then I noticed some gifts under the tree. Whoa! How the fuck was I gonna cope? One of them was a gift to me from Code. He'd made it before the accident. I read the card, then unwrapped the paper. Fucking hell! A bead necklace. He'd made it himself. Code was like that. He didn't have a lotta money, so he would often give things he'd made... like the graphics he would always give to Gary for special occasions. Anyway, it took every ounce of self-control I had not to burst into tears as I fondled the necklace, and thought of his fingers putting it all together for me.

Code's folks were pretty cool - as much as could be expected - and they were just sooo happy to see us. Wingnut came in a little while afterwards. He was dressed in a new tank top and boardies that his folks had given him. He was real chirpy. He'd make a card for them and they were so chuffed. It was a drawing of Cody and his dad on a dawn patrol. Just a silhouette of two surfers with the sun coming up. Winger was not a great artist but I figured Code's folks were gonna treasure that card forever. Then they told Wingnut about Code's prized Endless Summer poster, which they'd given to him for Christmas. He went ballistic. Woohoo! He asked if he could keep it where it was 'cause then he'd have an excuse to come over and visit, and Code's folks loved that idea. I figured Wingnut had kinda replaced Cody as a boy in the house if you know what I mean.

We all went out to sit by the pool and Cody's mom made us some juice and some snacks. The Codeman was missing though. Fucking hell! How could you not notice that naked ass walking around his pool? Actually, I told Gary in an email later, that this was so damn hard. I thought of Cody all the time and I mean all the time. It's not his bullshit and his laughter I missed so much. I missed the way he used to touch me and talk to me. When we made love it was so incredibly special. I remember the first time that he entered me. I was going to lay on my stomach. I'd wanted it for a long time but Cody wasn't too keen. I remember feeling his tongue there and couldn't believe that he would do that. Cody told me to lay on my back and he lifted my legs up on to his shoulders. If it hurt I can't remember. I know that I was tight 'cause he had to force himself into me. I just remember him filling me and how fantastic it felt, and looking at him with his smooth body bathed in sweat as he loved me. When he was finished, and he put his head down on my chest, I licked the dripping sweat off of his head and it was good.

I looked at Wingnut diving in the pool and wondered if Cody ever had sex with him. He never told me. I knew they were blowing each other. In fact, I knew that Cody and Mark were as well. Never ever spoke to either of them about it. Mark would've probably beat me close to death if I had.

Later on Christmas day, Mark and his girlfriend Candy arrived. Mark had obviously made one helluva impression on Cody's folks. His girlfriend was a total stunner. Total class and beautiful. She got on with everyone. Wingnut started telling her that Mark used to beat him up at school, and then he had Mark wrestling him in the pool. Wingnut loved to tease Mark... always calling him Conan.

Cody's dad put some meat on the braai (barbecue) and we had a really fantastic day. We spoke of Cody a lot. His folks were hearing stories about him at school and on tour and hiking. Mark was asked about the yacht he was building in Johannesburg. During the day some other guys came around and spent a while. Darren and Ross, Code's swim team buddies from school, came around. And a black guy everyone called Jumbo. I remembered him from reading Gary's stories. I knew Darren and Ross from when we went clubbing together sometimes. It was a really nice day and we left late. Steph and Candy got on well together, and Mark was constantly checking to see if I was giving her the once over. Yeah, right, and get my head beaten in.

The next time I wrote Gary, I had to apologize for letting him - or was it me? - down. I'd been on a serious downer thinking about Code. Hell, I wasn't just thinking about Code. I'd also been thinking about Wingnut. I'd read all the Wingnut stories, and I desperately wanted to love Wingnut like Code did... with tenderness and respect. But those kinda qualities didn't come easy to me. I was used to having my own way, and using different methods of persuasion.

To add salt to the wound, I was getting email from a guy named Kim H, who was telling me about my responsibility to Cody, and about the drug thing, and how I should be looking after Wingnut. Gary had obviously been in the dude's ear.

When my folks decided to go on another one of their fucking endless trips, leaving me in the care of the household staff - yeah, right - I decided to go on another one of mine. Drug induced, of course. I saw an opportunity to invite Wingnut to sleep over.

Continue reading..

Wingnut

Posted by: Simon - 12-28-2025, 09:52 AM - Replies (59)

Quote: Wingnut became his next door neighbor Kyle's little bro. They were the absolute best of friends, sharing their most intimate secrets. A closer bond between two buds you could never find. This is one of a number of very special stories I've had the privilege of writing, and I wrote it as Cody told it to me over a couple of years. Who's Cody? Cody chose the name Kyle for this and other stories about himself. Cody is no longer with us, so his anonymity is no longer an issue. But his love for his friends will never die. Never, never, never. I suggest that you familiarize yourself with the Wingnut and Mark stories before you read the Steve story.

The big guys call me a grommet 'cause I'm younger than they are. In a few years, they'll call me a surfer. There's one who lives next door -- Kyle. I've seen him down at the beach surfing with his friends. He's a rave surfer but not quite as good as his bud Steve who was practicing 360s when I last saw him. Wow! You should've seen that guy! Fucking awesome!

A lot of girls hang out at the beach, too. The guys call them groupies. They sit in giggling groups on the sand watching the dudes on their boards and wetting their pussies. One day, I'm gonna get me a board and those chicks are gonna wet their pussies looking at me! Yes!

A while back, I plucked up the nerve to talk to Kyle. I'd been wanting to for ages but he'd never noticed me in the whole year that we'd been neighbors. I figured he probably thought I was some dumb kid who'd get in his way and be a nuisance or something.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Can I help you with your garden chores?"

"Sure."

Kyle turned out to be a way cool guy. He showed me what to do and we chatted a whole bunch while we worked in his folks' garden. All the time, I was checking out his boardshorts. They were totally kewl -- like a floral design with velcro pockets on the sides and back, with a wide, black waist-band and stripes down the sides. The front was moulded to show his dick which was pushing out. And I could tell that he liked his shorts -- they hung low and I could just see the top of his ass crack. The front hung away from his stomach so, if I got up close and looked down, I could see his pubes. I didn't have any pubes, dammit.

"Wicked boardies, man."

"You like 'em? Steve bought 'em for me. They're the same as his -- Billabongs. Steve said we can parade along the beach like the Topsy Twins with our ass cracks showing," he laughed. "Have you seen Steve?"

"Yeah! He does 360s. Wicked! And you're right about his boardies showing his crack. I've seen his pubes sticking out the top, too."

"You surf?"

"No board, dammit. I body surf, though. And I'm on the school swim team. And I play rugger."

After a couple of hours, I had to go home for lunch. "See ya, Kyle." "See ya, Wingnut." Wingnut? What the hell was Wingnut? Before I entered my house, I paused to look back at Kyle. He was fixing some stuff that I hadn't done right. Fuck! I messed up! Maybe Wingnut was a word for somebody who was thick. I looked it up in the dictionary. "A nut with winglike projections for thumb and forefinger leverage in turning. Also called a "butterfly nut". So what the fuck was that all about?

"Are my ears big, mom?"

"No bigger than average, son."

"Kyle called me Wingnut."

"Boys are always giving each other silly names, son. It's probably meant as a term of endearment."

"What's that?"

"It means he likes you."

"He does? Woohoo! Do you really think so? Gee, I hope so. He's so cool, mom. He's totally awesome."

"Oh, dear. I think we have a crush on our hands."

"You like him, too?"

For the rest of the day, I couldn't stop thinking about Kyle, and peeking through the curtains to catch a glimpse of him, but he must've gone surfing with Steve. Damn!

It was a few days later when I spotted him in his yard. I grabbed my soccer ball and ran over. Damn! I ran! What an idiot! I should've walked! He was gonna think I was a fucking lamo kid with a crush. Sure, I had a crush big time, but I wasn't gonna tell him that. I wanted him to think I was tough like he was -- and he was one helluva tough mother. He was always in shorts, and he had a totally rad bod with muscular shoulders and a deep chest. His tan was wicked, and his mop of spiky, black hair kinda had a mind of its own, but it looked way neato.

"Hi ya, Wingnut."

"Hi ya, Kyle. Wanna kick a ball around for a while?"

I was surprised that Kyle was outa breath so soon. "Whoa, Wingnut, I'm fucked! Oops, dude, sorry for swearing."

"That's cool. I swear, too. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. See? And my best friend Brian swears, too. So it's no biggie." I must've said something funny 'cause Kyle cracked right up.

"Anyway, Wingnut, you must use different muscles in soccer to the ones I use in surfing. Jeez, you're an energetic little grommet."

"When are you gonna teach me? Surfing, I mean."

"You really wanna learn? Well, I guess if you're on the swim team you must be a pretty good swimmer, so at least I don't have to worry about you drowning. But there's not much surf lately. It's all mush."

"So teach me in mush."

"Come to think of it," he laughed, "I learnt in mush when I was a little Kyle. It builds your stamina 'cause your gonna have to paddle for shit just to stay in the surf."

"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit."

Kyle cracked again, but I just wanted him to know that I was all grown up and could swear with the best of 'em. Anyway, I had him giggling like crazy and that was a good sign. He really did like me! Woohoo!

"How old are you?"

"Going on twelve."

"That means your eleven."

"It means I'm going on fucking twelve! I don't wanna be fucking eleven." Kyle cracked again. What was so damn funny?

"Well, Wingnut, I gotta tellya, you're very mature for a grommet, and you've got a build more like a fourteen year old's, at least."

"I do?" I puffed out my bare chest and bent my arms to show my biceps. "Pretty cool, huh? I'm gonna look like you pretty soon, I figure."

That night, in my room after dinner, I stripped except for my boardies, then lowered them until they were hanging off my hips, just above my cock, like Kyle and Steve wore theirs. Damn! No pubes! I cut a little bit of my hair and used some sticky tape to fasten it to the inside top of my shorts. I put them on again and studied my reflection in the mirror. PUBES! Woohoo! So damn cool! But they weren't curly. Shit! OK, so I had straight pubes. Better than no fuckin' pubes.

Then I got this totally rad idea of drawing pubes. Yes! I used a ball-point pen to draw a bunch wiggly lines above my dick. Cool! When I checked myself in the mirror, I started to get hard. It looked so awesome to see my boner with pubes above it -- like it was for real -- and like I imagined Kyle's would look -- only his would've been bigger. When I touched my woodie, it felt totally wicked 'cause I was thinking about Kyle touching it. Would he? Nah, probably not. But Brian my best friend did. Brian and I jacked off a lot together. It felt much better when somebody else had their hand on your boner.

"Hey, Kyle! How about we hang out together, dude?" Nah, I didn't look right. I rested my weight on one leg, put my hands on my hips and cocked one eyebrow like I was totally kewl. "Hey, Kyle. What ya say we hang out together?" Nah, still not right. Damn! I must've practiced in front of the mirror for an hour before I said g'night to my folks and hit the sack.

The next time I visited Kyle, he was wrapped in a towel when he answered the door. "Hi ya, Wingnut. C'mon in, dude. I've just had a shower."

I followed him to his room. Whoa! A mini hi-fi with a CD player was on the shelf behind the double bed. A huge poster of "Endless Summer" hung on the wall near his surfboard. I walked closer to the poster to read the writing on the bottom. 'Kyle - keep wet - John Whitmore'.

"Who's John Whitmore?" I asked as I turned to see the towel draped over the bed, and Kyle standing there totally starkers. Although I didn't take my eyes off his, I could see that his dick was fucking HUGE! But I didn't wanna gawk.

"He's the dude that showed the two surfers around South Africa when they made the movie. All the surfers call him 'Oom', which means 'uncle'."

"Cool!" I paused to get up my nerve, rested my weight on one foot, and put my hands on my hips. "Hey, Kyle, I've been thinking, dude. What d'ya say about… well, y'know, like you and me sorta… I mean, kinda hang and stuff, whatever…"

"What the hell are you trying to say, Wingnut?"

"I wanna hang with you, dammit!"

Kyle collapsed on the bed cracking up something wicked. He raised his knees and I saw everything. And I mean everything! Whoa! He had big balls and a really long cock even though it wasn't hard. It must've been six inches soft! Fuck! If the groupies on the beach got an eyeful of that monster, they'd never leave him alone!

Kyle finally swung his muscly, tanned legs over the side of the bed and sat up. "You wanna hang with me? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yeah! Woohoo! That'd be so fucking cool!"

"OK, well I gotta think about that some. Maybe you can help me with the chores while I chew it over."

"Wicked!" Well, I figured I was in with a big chance. I could feel it. "So what chores do you want me to help you with?"

The moment we'd stepped into the bright, morning sunshine, and Kyle had pointed to the dog crap on the lawn, I got an idea. "Back in a second!" Kyle couldn't believe it when I returned from my house wearing a diving mask and a snorkle. He cracked again. I had him! I was sure of it! I figured if I could keep him laughing, he'd let me hang with him for certain. Yes!

As I went about my chores, I couldn't help noticing the way Kyle would look at me from time to time, as if he were admiring my bod. I remembered what he'd said about my having the build of a guy two years older. Was I that good? Hey! My grommet days were numbered, man. How cool! "Hey, Kyle, when are you gonna teach me how to surf?"

"School hols are coming up soon, Wingnut. How about then?"

"Wicked! And will Steve come, too?"

"We're joined at the fucking hip, man. We're the Topsy Twins, remember?

"Yeah, and showing your ass cracks and pubes. Hey! D'ya wanna know what I did…? Nah, sorry, you don't wanna know."

Well, he pestered me for ten minutes trying to get me to finish what I was gonna say. I figured he was gonna think I was a total dork about sticking hair on my boardies, then drawing pubes on my crotch but he didn't. OK, so he rolled around on the lawn laughing his tits off, but I knew he wasn't mad at me or anything.

"Wingnut," he said, wiping the tears from his face, "you're fucking priceless, dude. So, you wanna hang with me and Steve?"

"Can I? I'll clean up the dog crap every day and I'll…"

"Chill. You don't have to do any of that, man. Just be yourself."

"Does that mean I can hang with you?"

"I'll break your fucking arm if you don't."

"WOOHOO!!!!!!!!!!"

Continue reading..

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