by Chris Kay
Brian finally located a bottle opener and popped the tops of the two beers that we had pilfered from his father’s cabinet. We each swigged a mouthful. I guzzled too much too quickly and coughed. I looked over at Brian to see if he had noticed, but he was already lining up his next shot at the pool table. One must be suave when drinking alcohol.
We drained the bottles quickly, laughed raucously, burped loudly, and danced stupidly to loud guitar rock. There were more drinks and it was a great time. Within thirty minutes, I could really feel the alcohol swirling around in my head. It felt otherworldly to me in that huge house with him – partying carelessly. It didn’t seem real.
Brian came over to me and threw one arm over my shoulder as I considered a shot at the pool table. “You were checking out my sister’s tits back there.” he said matter-of-factly.
“Well, I wasn’t really…” I replied.
“Oh yes you were! You had the VBB. No hiding it.” he said.
“What the hell is a VBB?” I asked.
“Visible boner bulge.” he laughed as he picked up the chalk and rolled it over the end of his cue.
“I did not, either!” I defended.
“Hey. it’s cool, dude. I know she’s hot. I’d scope her out too, if I were you.” he giggled again. “In fact, if we get lucky, her swimmer boy will come by again tonight and we can spy on them skinny dipping in the pool.”
“Whoa. really?” I asked looking hopefully over at him. The idea of seeing Karen naked seemed exactly like heaven to me at that moment. And truth be told, he was probably right about the boner bulge. In those days we wore our jeans fairly tight. There wasn’t much hidden if you knew when to look.
“So they were just out there swimming naked together in the middle of the night?” I looked up at the ceiling imagining it.
“Yeah, why not. It’s really private here.” he said.
“Except when you’re spying on them.” I corrected.
“Yeah, well, there is that.” he agreed. “The guy was really…” and Brian trailed off.
“Really, what?” I asked as I took my shot.
“He was huge.” he said. “His cock I mean. Almost depressed me…almost” Brian smiled.
“How big is huge?” I asked with genuine curiosity. “Did they do it? Right out at the pool?”
“No,” he said. “They didn’t fuck out at the pool. But he got some serious wood.” Brian put his hands about 8 inches apart from each other and cocked an eyebrow at me.
I agreed. “That would probably humble me a bit.” I laughed and we both said, “a bit.”
All the talk about naked sisters and big dicks had my blood pumping. I had to readjust myself in my 501s, as nonchalantly as possible of course, as Brian hunted for a game winning shot at the 8 ball. I found myself watching him. I was wondering if he got hard like I did just by talking about things like this. It wasn’t something I would normally just talk about with another guy, but I was understandably curious. Does every guy pop a boner like I did at the drop of a hat – or pair of shorts – as the case may be? I was checking out his ass as he bent over the pool table in his tight jeans. I told myself I was being “envious” of him – that he had a nice physique that I wouldn’t mind having.
Truth was that I did have a physique like his. We were quite similar looking, healthy white kids. I had my short mousy brown hair to his blonde mop, but we were built quite similarly. Whether it was the beer, Brian’s geniality, or something else, I was getting quite horny as I stood there. I can confess now that it wasn’t envy, whatever I told myself.
Brian called his shot and missed sinking the 8 ball by a matter of inches. He stepped back to let me have a go at it.
I had to adjust myself in my jeans again, as I had some major wood taking place by this time. I pretended to need to chalk up my cue as I turned my back to him at the edge of the table. I took an awkward shot from an even worse angle and missed my mark by a mile.
“Ha!” he laughed. “You’re drunk. That sucked! Tell you what. I’ll let you have that shot again.” He stood back and gestured at the table. I looked over at him with a little embarrassed scowl and caught something out of the corner of my eye. A VBB.
As he had said before, there was no hiding it. He was sprung like the great outdoors. I could clearly see Brian’s hard shaft pointing up and to the right in his jeans. It was painfully obvious, even without looking directly at it. And you know how button fly 501s are. They make your junk bulge out in front anyway. Did mine look like that too, I wondered? I looked down at myself quickly to see if mine seemed as obvious as his. At that point, he must have noticed my glance, and being the more outgoing of the two of us, just blurted out what we were both thinking.
“Man. I’m hard as a fucking rock right now.”
It was just the tension breaker we needed. We both burst out laughing and I confessed I was the same.
“Your sister does it to me every time, even without you talking about her being naked at the pool.”
“I’m a walking stiff-one about 50 percent of the time as it is” he added and looked down at his own crotch in a way someone would only do if their inhibitions had been lowered by too much drinking. “I think I’m done with this game. How about you?” he asked as he set his cue aside. “Let’s go downstairs.”
Because I was happy to change the subject, I agreed and hung up my own cue on the rack. He headed over to the French doors. I was relieved that we had become close enough friends to talk about stiff ones without feeling too awkward. It seemed like some huge barrier had been crossed.
He spilled out into the hallway and I followed him obediently. He half leaned, half slid down the curving banister to the first floor and turned to walk toward the back of the house where the huge kitchen met a covered patio entertaining area, beyond which was at least ten acres of private landscaping. He grabbed some chips from inside a pantry and slid open a glass door to the back yard. He tossed the bag of chips on the nearest patio furniture and pulled out a chair to sit down. Then he stopped and changed his mind.
“Let’s go out there.” he said, pointing toward the swimming pool.
I followed him across the lawn to the pool area, but it wasn’t just a pool. It was THE pool. It was bigger than the lot my house sits on, and it had its own bungalow adjoining it. He picked one of the tables by the water and collapsed into a wireframe chair. There was no one around, but the lights were all on, in and around the pool. I guessed electricity bills didn’t worry his parents the way they always worried mine.
Being so close to the pool, I couldn’t help thinking again about the primary image in my head at the moment. “Where’s your sister?” I asked.
He just laughed and said, “Who knows? Probably on the phone in her room, actually. I’d give it five to one odds.”
I looked around and took in our surroundings. Everything was perfect and manicured like some huge work crew had just left it, and yet there was no evidence at all of their having been there. I kept expecting to see someone waiting in the dark by the bushes, ready to serve drinks or clip hedges at the tip of a hat.
“Who cleans this place?” I asked absently.
“I don’t know.” was his response, as he slumped down further in his chair, stretching a long leg out toward the water’s edge but not quite reaching it with his bare feet. His comment made sense to me. Why should he know who cleans things – or care. How would it be, I thought, as the alcohol continued to swirl warmly around in my head. This was just the perfect damn life.
After a moment of quiet, he sat up in his chair, lifted his arms up behind his head and grabbed the collar of his t-shirt. “Let’s go swimming.” he said as he pulled his shirt off and stood up.
“Whoa. hold on. what?” I asked. You see, to me, this was now the naked sister pool. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind that it was actually for swimming in by the likes of us. “I didn’t bring a suit.” I reminded him.
“The hell with the suit – just jump in – it’s pri-vate,” he enunciated carefully as his hands dropped to the buttoned waistband of his jeans.
“Right, unless someone is sneaking a look from upstairs…like you would.” I said looking back at the house expecting to see Karen peering from a window.
“You like her…what would you care? Afraid she’ll see your old man? You’re not as big as her boyfriend, but she’d like it well enough, trust me” he teased.
“Maybe…” I said, “but I just don’t fucking think so. Not ready to swing free in the pool, ok?”
“Alright, alright.” he said resignedly. “Come here.”
He started walking toward the little structure on the far side of the pool, leaving his shirt on the table. I followed him from a distance, but couldn’t help noticing the smooth tanned skin of his bare back. I could tell he spent a lot of time laying out in the sun. My eyes strayed briefly to his waist where I looked for signs of a tan line. Again I thought I was feeling “envious” of his smooth body.
As we reached the wooden door of the little cabin next to the shallow end, he reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a key ring, chose one key and unlocked the heavy door. Inside it was like a little hotel meets changing room. It had a sizeable pull-out couch, a chest of drawers, a coffee table, a closet and a large bathroom with a shower. He walked over to the chest of drawers and started opening and closing them. In the third drawer down he reached in and grabbed something light blue.
“Look in here. We’ll wear one of these. They’re mine.” In his hand was only a tiny little bit of shiny orange material. I stepped forward and looked in the drawer. It was full of swim suits. Tiny little Speedo style ones. I picked up a handful and looked for something like the Bermuda type I normally wore, but found nothing but the small variety.
Despite the proud and firm display my cock had made only minutes earlier, my little buddy instinctively ran for cover. It was as if the penis had voted an authoritative “no” on the whole concept of wearing a Speedo. I don’t think there was a spare blood cell to be had in it at the moment I looked wide-eyed at those stretchy little suits. “uh…no way man. I am NOT putting on one of these.” I said as I held up a little dark blue number. It may as well have been an eye patch. It was certainly no larger.
“Alex! Damn it. It’s just a place to hold your junk. I wear them all the time. It’s no big deal. They’re comfortable. My mom’s been buying them for me since I was a kid. It’s like swim team stuff. Try it. I’m going to wear one just like it. C’mon, man.” He unbuttoned his jeans and started to pull them down to reveal his underwear beneath.
I sighed and turned away, carrying the dark blue embarrassment with me over into the bathroom. “Karen’s going to be up there looking out of her bedroom window scoping me out, I just know it.”
“Listen. Trust me. Karen knows you’re a boy. OK?” he said with an exasperated tone that disarmed my prudish response. “Yeah, alright” I said again, as I stepped into the dark bathroom and pulled off my t-shirt. I draped it over the edge of the counter and unbuttoned my jeans which fell effortlessly to the floor.
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