Show Me Yours
South Park (c) Matt Stone & Trey Parker
"What?" My best friend asked with the most incredulous look on his face, his mouth hanging open slightly from surprise. Before he could grasp what exactly I had said and become angry or something, I tried to add on something innocent to make it alright. Just in case.
"I was, uh… Just curious, I guess," I couldn't look him in the eye while muttering this, so I just stared at the floor. When silence ensued, I glanced up for a mere second, trying to catch a glimpse of his expression. Kyle was still giving me that look, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. Was it really that weird? I mean, I had wanted to know since…since I had gotten them.
I guess I was about thirteen or fourteen when I had finally gotten pubes. I don't really remember anymore; it's been years since then. I do remember that they itched like a motherfucker, though. So much that I attempted shaving, which didn't work out all too well. I had cut myself on my first attempt, and it hurt. No, it didn't just hurt, it was fucking painful as shit. I mean, I was crying like someone had stabbed me, and my mom busted into the bathroom, scared half to death. Once she figured out what the fuck I was doing with a razor that close to my dick, she had my dad come and talk to me. According to my dad, women love pubes, and the itching would go away once the hair was grown out. The shit on my legs or underarms wasn't so bad; I hardly even noticed that hair grew there unless I was staring at it or something. It was a few days, maybe a week, before the itching lessened down to the every-once-in-a-while discomfort that required a quick rub through the jeans and was gone. The small patch I had attempted to shave was hardly even a day behind. It does have a scar that's clearly visible once you weed through the hair even now that I'm nearing eighteen. Not long after my pubes grew out, my curiosity about them, as well as other things, started to peak.
The only other person I've dated is Wendy, and she has black hair, like me. One day I got a little closer to last base, and I got to feel her pubes. It was damn weird. I made a joking comment about it, saying she was a bit hairy down there, and she hit me a few times before storming out of my house. I did get a peek, though. Of course, they were black just like mine.
At first I just figured everyone's were black, but the fact of the matter was that I had never seen anyone else's with the exception of Wendy, myself, and my dad. I don't even want to reminisce on the event that led to me seeing my dad's junk. God, he needs to quit drinking so god damn much.
After a while, I just decided I'd ask Kenny. Unfortunately, he gave me a really vague reply, so I was still at a loss. What else could I do but ask the only person I'd trust with something this personal? His hair was red, of course, so either his pubes were red, or they were black. Hands down. I, however, am a goddamn pussy, so it's taken a few years to gather up the courage to call him over one Saturday evening when my mom and dad are gone at a huge 'adult' party. It seemed pretty much perfect; I'd get to satisfy my curiosity, hang out with Kyle, and play some video games or something. It was all pretty much smooth sailing from there. That was the plan, at least, which is why I'm perplexed at Kyle's reply, or lack thereof.
Once he came into my room, he asked me jovially what we were gonna do since my parents were out, and I, being the dumbshit I am, blurted out, "Can I see what color your pubes are?"
Which is what led me here with Kyle staring at me skeptically, slowly processing the weird shit I just prodded his brain with. For a moment, I considered quickly pulling down his pants and taking a look before running like hell. Seriously, I'd have to run for my life because I'm pretty sure Kyle would take me out in a heartbeat if I did some crazy shit like that out of the blue. Last time we fought, it was pretty even, but god damn. I was sore for the next week and a half, but Kyle was acting like his black eye, bruises, and broken arm didn't even hurt. I didn't want to ask him about it once we made up since, well, if I found out he was that badass, I'd feel just a little inadequate as quarterback for the football team.
"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," I said to break the silence, looking up at him. He started to look around nervously, and I gave him a small, reassuring smile. He was visibly calmer, but quietly he asked, "Why?"
"Cause, dude… You have red hair."
"So? What does my red hair have to do with this?"
"C'mon, Kyle. We're best friends; it's not like we haven't seen each other naked."
"Dude, stop being fucking weird. Seriously, did you drink some of your dad's booze again?"
"That was forever ago, and we swore we'd never talk about that again!" After that outburst, I was sure blood was rushing to my face. Fuck. Why couldn't Kyle just show me already?
"Well, I'm not the one being a fucking creeper just because my parents are out!" Kyle was starting to raise his voice as well, and right then I knew this was all getting out of hand. I had no choice. Kyle just wasn't going to show me.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, Kye," I sigh softly, moving from my bed that I'd been sitting on to approach him. He was obviously a little wary of me, but I really didn't blame him. I mean, I would be too, but he still trusted me.
As soon as I'm no more than a foot from my best friend, I open my arms for a hug, and he moves forward just as he should, opening his arms as well. His pants completely unguarded, I snatch them right down, boxers following suit. Kyle wasn't ready for that at all, and neither was I.
Holy fucking shit.
He shaves. Kyle Broflovski, my best friend since fucking forever, shaves. Kyle was blushing furiously as he yanked his pants right back up moments later, but I had already seen it all. Everything. There was absolutely no hair anywhere on him. He was so cleanly shaven his balls probably shone in the light. There wasn't even a trace of hair growing there, and I knew from experience that the shit grows back faster than anything on earth. I couldn't stop gaping and staring in the general direction of his extremely well-shaven crotch even though it was already re-covered.
"Fuck you, Stan, you asshole!"
"What the fuck was that even for? Is that all you called me over here fo—mmhh!"
Kyle and his goddamn mouth sometimes. I had to shut him up, and the fact that I could cover up the whole incident with being deprived of affection for ages made it all okay to kiss him. It wasn't like, extremely awesome or anything since it is a bit painful to force your lips against someone else's when they're in the middle of ranting up a fucking storm, but it was pretty okay. For a kiss, that is.
When I opened my eyes, it was obvious Kyle had been glaring at me the entire time because he still was.
Well, at least there was silence with that glare.
"Gonna listen to me now?"
When the only answer I got was him folding his arms over his chest, I took that as an affirmative. I took a small step back and started to pull down my jeans, which only made Kyle's glare intensify. Jesus Christ, he needed to chill the fuck out. Once my pants and boxers were together at my knees, I pointed to my pubes in demonstration and began, "look: mine are black, and I wanted to know if everyone's were black or if it was determined by hair color. Like, the hair on your head. I asked a few people, and no one really told me. So, I thought you'd let me know since, you know, we're super best friends." I was going to stop there, but after a short pause, I added in, "but since you shave, I guess that's all out the window."
Man, the expression on his face made it pretty clear we probably weren't going to talk for a while, or there would be a fist fight right here in my room, then we wouldn't talk for a while. His face was red. Red like steam was about to blow out of his ears. He was biting his lip while glaring at me, clenching the hem of his shirt as if he were still trying to cover his lower half. Okay, so I was being a dick, but he should have just told me in the first damn place. Speaking of dicks, mine was still out in the open, and I suddenly didn't feel safe with it on display with the redhead looking that angry. He might decide to take revenge on my dick, or even worse, my balls.
Trying to be quick, I reached down to pull my pants back up, which had slowly slid down closer to my ankles during the explanation. Unfortunately, Kyle took this opportunity while I was off guard and shoved me backwards. The very moment I was shoved, I wished futilely that the bed would suddenly appear right behind me, but no such luck. I fell ungracefully onto my back, my head hitting the very edge of my bed (oh har har, nice one, God) before hitting the floor after the rest of my body did. It definitely hurt, but already the adrenaline was pumping through my system; I was instantly ready to defend myself from the angry looking teen now kneeling over me. Much to my surprise, he wasn't throwing punches yet. Oh God, he's going to mutilate my dick or something.
Kyle would never do that to his super best friend in the entire fucking universe, right? Right?
Kyle sat on my thighs and grabbed my dick, seemingly inspecting it. At this point, I would have preferred the fighting and not talking. I need my dick for so many reasons that I can't even count on ten people's fingers. The look of pure hatred and anger seemed to have drained from his face, at least, but was replaced by…curiosity? Had I completely misread what that look he was giving me or was something going on that I was totally missing out on?
"Kyle. Not to intrude or anything on you and my goddamn dick, but what the fuck are you doing?"
"Shut up, Stan."
At this, I scrambled up on an elbow to swat his hand away from my penis, but he just smacked my hand back before stating as a matter-of-factly, "you got to see mine, so I get to see yours."
"You're looking at the wrong thing."
"No, I'm not."
"Not to burst your bubble, Kye, but that's my penis."
"No shit, Sherlock."
"Hey, stop that!" A moment of silence had passed after that smartass statement, and Kyle did something I can only describe as… weirdly erotic. Kyle basically just jacked me off a little. No, seriously, he slowly pulled back the foreskin of my penis and then pulled it forward in a few slow strokes. I'm not totally gay for my best friend, but I will admit I was a little turned on by the idea of a handjob.
I began to come to my senses when I realized I was definitely going to get hard if I just let him go ahead and continue. Fuck no. That seemed like a step over the super best friend line. Kyle kept swatting my hand away when I reached to stop him, though, so what the fuck.
"Dude. Why are you staring at it like that?" I honestly didn't want to know, but this made him pause and look up at me, which was relieving. However, I'm not so sure what to make of his reply.
"Because you're uncircumcised."
I wanted to ask what the fuck that had to do with anything, but when it crossed my mind to ask, I got the sudden feeling of déjà vu.
"Fuck you, Kyle. That wasn't even clever."
"Oh, really? I thought so," he stated smugly, still stroking my cock. Although his satisfaction wasn't visible when he noticed I was getting hard, I knew he was inwardly just laughing at me. This is some fucked up revenge right here.
"Dude, I only got like half a millisecond to look at your fucking waxed balls. How come you get to spend the next year messing with my dick?"
"I wanna see something."
"What else is there to see? I mean, holy shit, my dick can only do so much even with you fondling it."
Kyle only picked up the pace of the flicks of his wrist, squeezing lightly at the base, which got me to let out a breathy moan. Immediately after, I clamped my hand over my mouth and tried to shift my legs from under him to get the hell away. The idea was arousing, but actually letting it happen was a bit too weird for me at the moment.
"Stay still," he hissed, pushing at my torso, forcing my back to the floor again. I was just going to roll over and escape to the bathroom, but he was ready for that already. With my balls in his idle hand, he gave them a warning squeeze. Jesus Christ, Kyle literally had me by the balls. The squeeze actually felt pretty nice, but I knew what he was getting at with that look in his eyes.
I couldn't fight it, so I just let him continue, trying to pretend it was a hand without a body. Like from that one movie, Idle Hands. Except not an evil hand that would microwave his dick and feed it to him after slowly chopping it up with a sharpened peanut butter knife.
I had closed my eyes and hummed pleasantly as another string of pleasure shot through me from the handjob, but my eyes shot right back open when Kyle abruptly stopped. Back to giving my dick that stare. There was no way he was just going to leave me hanging, right?
Kyle shifted, and his totally obvious boner was precariously touching my thigh. Oh ho ho, my best friend is a faggot. For me. At the time, I wasn't totally sure if I should be cool with that or freaked out, but it was all decided in a matter of seconds when Kyle pulled it out. That goddamn circumcised sausage that looked too large to be his right then. Kyle's dick was supposed to be small, like Japanese small. It wasn't. I already knew it wasn't, but it wasn't so impressive last time I took a glance. In fact, it could compare to mine, easily. Which was exactly what Kyle was fucking doing. Freaked out wasn't even the beginning of how I was feeling.
"…Kyle, not to ruin the dick party we're having on my floor right now, but my legs are numb, this is weird, I'm really fucking horny, and I'm pretty sure you've proved your point that you can have a beastly dick like the rest of the black kids if you keep drinking kosher badger milk or whatever the fuck it is you drink. So, I'd love it if you got off so that I can go jack off to some porn now."
Apparently I was right about the fag thing, because Kyle leaned down and teased the fuck out of my cock with that wonderfully warm, wet tongue of his with just one agonizingly slow lick from a slightly bulging vein on the side of my prick to the very tip. Just as slow, he swirled his tongue about the tip, narrowly avoiding the slit, and I was just about to fucking kill that redheaded kid, god damn. After I fucked his mouth, I mean.
I wanted more, so much more. Involuntarily, I had arched my back, trying desperately to get my dick in his mouth even as he leaned back up. Fucker.
"Kyle, you have less than three seconds to explain before we fight right here, right now."
"I'll let you fuck me if you let me fuck you."
I was struck dumb at the suggestion, and opened my mouth to say something, but instead my jaws just worked soundlessly. For some reason I really liked this idea. Boners are the devil to clear thought, I swear. After thinking it over for probably less than a second, I nudged for him to get off again.
A bit disappointed, he did so, much to my surprise. Once he had moved out of the way, I kicked off my pants all the way and dashed out of the room towards my parent's bedroom. My dad had lubricant and condoms in his bedside table drawer. First thing I grabbed was the lube since I had my second thoughts about the condom. I never heard anything good about condoms aside from disease prevention, and I knew for a fact Kyle was cured of aids a long time ago along with Cartman. The condom stayed in the drawer, and I ran back to my room where Kyle was waiting. Well, more like moping. His pants were securely around his waist again, and he was sitting on my bed with his arms wrapped around his legs that were pulled up to his chest.
"Knock knock," I hint, getting him to look up at me from his knees with a shocked and embarrassed look.
"It's just me, wondering why you're not naked on my bed right now."
Kyle snorted at the comment and started laughing, letting his legs stretch out in front of him. I approached, holding up the lube and waving it slightly. I couldn't help but at least chuckle at the entire situation. It was pretty high on the list of the oddest things I'd ever done with Kyle.
"Why don't I make a suggestion?" Kyle had stopped laughing, a smile still remaining on his face as his attention returned to me. "Strip."
No questions asked, no complaints, no nothing. He just got off the bed and complied, peeling off his clothes slowly. He attempted the sexy sort of show strippers might do, except less dancing and pelvic thrusts in your face. It was amateur at best, but I have to admit, I liked it. Actually, no, my boner liked it.
I didn't just stand there looking dumb; I took off my shirt and threw it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor and lay back on my bed, watching the striptease and stroking my cock a little bit. Once he finished slipping out of his boxers, completely revealing his utterly hairless body with the exception of his now hatless head, he crawled onto the bed over me and sat on my thighs once again. I had just recovered from fucking jell-o legs a minute ago, and he decides he wants to officially declare me handicapped by the end of the night. Though instead of complaining, I had something more important to ask at the moment.
"Dude, are you shaving your pubes, or have you just not reached puberty yet?" Kyle rolled his eyes at me, and I couldn't hold back a grin at this.
"It itched so fucking much, and it's kinda annoying. Besides, have you seen how hairy my dad is? I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I don't think anyone is. And you have no idea how awesome it feels to get into bed after you shave. You have no idea."
"Yeah, I think I'm okay with being manly."
"Fuck you, Stan. I know where this scar came from," he said as he pushed some pubes aside with his finger, completely revealing the scar from my first encounter with a razor. I shot a glare at him, and he just chuckled, grabbing the lube from beside me.
I thought he'd be lubing up my penis first thing or even making me do it, but instead he was crawling up further over me after squirting the fancy-smelling, transparent goo on his forefingers. If I had never seen porn before, if I had never seen someone masturbate before, if I had never fucking jacked off before, I'd fucking jizz right now.
Kyle's face was inches from mine, flushed and panting as he finger fucked himself over me. I had no idea what his fingers were doing back there up his ass, but it must have been some damn good shit because he was already moaning and arching his back, grinding back against his hand. I wanted in on that. Seriously. My cock was literally aching and throbbing to do what Kyle's fingers were doing right now, except better. Way better.
To make things go a bit faster, I quickly slathered a layer of lubricant on my dick while not-so-secretly watching Kyle pant and moan in my face, then waited anxiously for him to finish whatever the hell he was doing back there. If this was him trying to turn me on even more, it was working. I could fuck him until next Saturday. Nothing was going to stop me from tapping his sweet ass.
Making it clear I was more than ready to fuck, I grabbed at his lower thighs, tugging them forward. He got the hint, and his hand reappeared from behind him to rest beside my head on my pillow. I made a mental note to turn said pillow over before sleep or be damned. All thoughts aside, I grabbed the base of my dick and held it in place for Kyle to lower himself on. He did so very slowly, and I was almost tempted to take over and just buck into him, but he was still my best friend, god damn it. He had stopped after only a fourth of my dick was penetrating, and I leaned up on an elbow, coaxing him gently, "Kye, just relax.. Don't think about it."
"It's..It's not going to fit."
It was obvious Kyle was in pain, but I cared a little less about that and a hell of a lot more about getting every inch of my dick in his tight ass. Still attempting to coo him into forcing it in before I did, I gently massaged his thigh and smiled softly, "you're doing fine so far. Just keep going, Kye."
His hands found my chest to hold his shaky body up, and he sighed to relax while nodding to me, slowly inching down on my cock. It was indescribably amazing, and a pleased groan escaped me as I arched my back, raising my hips to get more of that delicious feeling. Kyle was whimpering softly with his eyes shut tight, but I'm pretty sure he'd get to enjoying it as much as I was pretty soon. Why else would gay people have sex?
I wanted to get right to the fucking, so moments after he engulfed my dick, I bucked my hips, and he moaned loudly, panting and digging his short, stubby nails into my chest.
"S-Stoopp.. ah," he was biting his bottom lip with his head tilted back all the way, his face to the ceiling. I didn't see why I should stop, so I didn't. I grabbed his hips and forced him to slide up then slam his ass back down. Even with his whimpering protests, I continued because it felt so fucking good like that. I wanted it faster, but I kind of liked this position.
"Don't just sit there, Kyle. Ride me."
"F-fuck…" Out came another whimper, but he slowly started doing as he was told. Slowly. I had reason to be extremely impatient from how long I had to wait to get off already, but his lack of enthusiasm about this was only making it worse. A little unsympathetic, I held his hips as he moved, demanding, "faster."
With a little help from my hands, his pace sped up, and God, it was awesome. I never knew a guy could make any the sounds Kyle was making in between pants, but I didn't mind at all actually. I love hearing what I do to him. I adjusted myself under him and began to meet him half way, and we slammed against each other, the sound of bare skin slapping together resonating through my bedroom each time. If there was any other living thing in the house, they would hear the moans, groans, and whimpers coming from my room no matter where they were. I was ready to take it a step further from just awesome to mind blowing; it was time to switch positions.
I sat up quickly and moved Kyle onto his back, his legs dangling over my arms. He shifted them a bit towards my shoulders as I grabbed his thighs again and continued where we left off moments ago, thrusting hard into that tight ass. The faster I went, the louder his moans got, so I hardly even paused. I was addicted to those sounds he was making. Eventually I got him to scream my goddamn name, and I was more than pleased. I didn't know what I was hitting to get him to say my name so lustfully, but I kept thrusting harder just to hit it, and he loved it. He reached up and grabbed my face, forcing our lips to crash together in a sloppy kiss. I didn't even feel the urge to reject him as he probed my mouth with his tongue and wrapped his around my own. Hell, I let myself enjoy it for what it was as I continued to fuck him. He'd pull away for seconds to catch his breath, but otherwise his lips were basically attached to mine. We'd moan into each other's mouths, and sometimes I was unsure of who made what noise, not that I cared. What was going on in my bed right at that moment was fucking beautiful.
I didn't feel the need to stop, even after I had started to come. I just kept going, although slightly slower. I was getting tired, but some adrenaline was still lingering in my veins. Kyle struggled under me, though, and bit my bottom lip. Once I stopped moving my hips, he released my lip and fell back to the bed, looking up at me hazily with a grin, panting softly.
Fuck. I had completely forgotten that part of the deal.
Once he moved out of the way, I got on my hands and knees and crawled forward so that he could get behind me. Liking this, he slapped my ass, and I snapped my head around to glare at him. He was being all too smug about it. He took his sweet time teasing my ass with those very same fingers he had up his a while ago, too. The lube was cold at first when he smeared it around my asshole, and I involuntarily let out a totally manly whimper when he forced, not one, but two fingers in at once. Fucking shit.
At first it was just plain uncomfortable having fingers there, but once he moved them around and bent them inside, it started feeling more like it should: awesome. The sounds that forced their way out of my throat were just a little humiliating, but what was worse was the brain malfunction that let my mouth move without permission, "F-Fuck me, Kye! Right now, you fucking ass."
I knew that if I looked at his face right then, he'd be grinning from ear to ear, cocking an eyebrow at my total fagginess. At the moment, I didn't give a fuck. Folding my arms in front of me, I pressed my face against them and arched my back, ass completely in the air. Instead of answering to my demand, Kyle just continued to toy with my ass with his fingers, and I couldn't help but grind back against them. When it seemed like that was all he was going to do to my overly exposed ass, I raised my head and looked back at him, flustered, "I swear to God, Kye, if I don't feel a dick in there within the next ten seconds, I'm going to come back there and fuck you all over again." I was tired after my recent release, and I was pretty damn sure I'd just flop over and pass out if he let me hang any longer anyway.
Kyle had complied, and not in a very nice way. If he hadn't so ungracefully shoved his entire bulging dick up my ass, leaving me unable to do anything other than whimper and cry out like a little bitch, I'd turn right around and punch him in the fucking jaw. It stung; it hurt; it felt like my ass was being ripped apart. It felt a hell of a lot like there was some enormous foreign object disturbing the peaceful merriment that went on inside my poor fucking ass. I wasn't exactly loving it. I tried to adjust, attempting to relax the muscles that were tensing up around his dick, but he didn't even stop.
That son of a bitch.
He knew what was going on inside of my ass, and was blatantly ignoring the fact that what he was doing kind of, you know, HURT. "K-Kyle… God..God d-damn it… Kyle!" I tried to sound as pissed off as I really was, but it came out all wrong, like I fucking liked this shit. I wasn't ready to admit it was starting to feel kind of good. I was more ready to punch him in the cock. See how he likes that shit.
Kyle seems to have an obsession with slapping my ass, and is even more so obsessed with the sound I make when he does it. I know because he mumbles something weird along the lines of, "yes, just like that, Stan."
I just want to maul my best friend in his sleep right now.
He started to slam into my ass harder, dragging me by the hips back to meet him every time, and I couldn't believe the words slipping out of my mouth along with those breathy, lust-filled moans I had just heard from him minutes ago.
"H-harder, Kye! Right there, ah!" Fuck my brain, seriously.
The fucker pulled out his boner and flicked it over my ass teasingly before slipping it back in and thrusting at an angle that I swear could have made anyone melt into a puddle of moaning pleasure goo right there. It was decided right then when I clenched my own bed sheets and thrusted my ass back to get some more of that tantalizing dick to beat the shit out of my insides that we would be doing this again. No one could know, but a second time of this was too good to pass up. Pussy-bitch-fag or not, sex was the fucking shit.
The oddest feeling ever is when your ass is being filled with some fluid that's about the same temperature as everything else in your ass, yet it still has some odd 'oh-my-god-it's-like-there's-water-in-my-ass' effect on you. I felt the need to panic a little at this fact. Even if the rest of the space is filled with Kyle's goddamn prick.
He's pulling out finally, and I can feel his fucking man-juice still dripping out of his now partially limp dick onto me and my now completely unclean sheets, and the majority of it, of course, making a trail from my ass down my thigh. I glanced in between my legs only to find that it's not only jizz, but it's mixed with blood.
My anus is bleeding.
I don't even need to mention it because Kyle has already noticed. Yes, feel guilty, you fucking asshole. That's right. After a moment more of internal victory at his guilt, I just collapse right there, tired, and mind fucking blown out of proportion. He crawls up to me lazily and carefully lies down beside me before wrapping his stupid, warm arms around my middle. I want to reject him; I want to headbutt him in the nose for being everything that I just loathed and yet needed so, so much at the same time, but instead I return the hold and scoot closer, moving one of my legs in between his comfortably.
We stare at each other for a long moment before sharing a soft, lingering kiss. I'm damn tired, and I know he feels the same after all of that. Not so quick anymore, I sat up groggily and moved off the bed to go lock my door, just to come back to the bed to turn over that pillow, crawl in, and doze with Kyle at my side. Fuck cleaning up, that's what Sundays are for. We could talk and shit about what the hell just happened over cleaning my sheets and shit tomorrow.
Just as I began to fall asleep with Kyle curling up under the covers against me, I realized I still had no fucking idea if pubes were different colors or not.