Date: Thu, 14 Jun 2012 16:40:11 -0700 (PDT)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR  Chapter 30   by Donny Mumford

			   DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR

				Chapter 30

			     by Donny Mumford

Teenagers love shopping malls, at least the teenagers I know. Awesome place
to hook-up and hang-out with your buds. I can't help but think how much
simpler my life is here at home as compared to being in Key West with
Willie; oh my God, there's no comparison. Okay, just thinking about
Willie's name has me sucking on my lips as my anus quivered. It's not that
I'm not sexually satisfied because my homeboys have taken excellent care of
that. It's just a reflex action left over from my week with Willie. I've
never felt as submissive before in my life; not anything like Willie made
me feel during the last few days of our Key West trip. He was following
some sort of plan he'd concocted that apparently worked; a plan to get me
hanging all over him and treating him like my idol. And I'm not going to
lie to myself and pretend that I'm not drawn to that feeling again either,
because I am. It has nothing to do with Robby and me; I love Robby so much
it's almost stupid, and my bro, Chubby, was so awesome I can't articulate
exactly how wonderful my time with him this morning was. Plus, Robby and me
had that fantastic reunion, and his little brother who ain't so little,
helped me out with the horniness problem I had; the one Willie created. And
Dodger is hot too! But they're all sweet friends and/or lovers, and
Willie's what? I don't know what Willie is exactly. I have to shake my head
because it's unbelievable how hot the sex Willie laid on me in Key West was
with Willie dominating me like no one else ever has. Maybe no one else
could do it to the degree he does it. It's a much more powerful force now
than it was during our first time together. It's become addictive; that is,
me being submissive to Willie. In Key West it probably should have scared
me, but it didn't. I reveled in it. Willie knows me so well and obviously
knows every button to push in order to get me doing his bidding. Half the
time he makes me feel like a little boy, and that sounds as weird as it
feels; except I loved it. Oh man, I don't know what I'm going to do about
Willie, I really don't. It really isn't a serious love thing at all, except
that I love the sex we have together. No, my true love is Robby and when he
and I have sex together my world is an extremely happy place. I love that
boy! Chubby too of course, although in a very different way. It's just that
I got a humongous thrill being dominated by Willie and I know I want some
more of it. And, I haven't even mentioned his eight inch cock, and the fact
that he knows how to use it too. Truth is though, I haven't spent much time
at all thinking about Willie since coming home because it makes me all
gooey inside and, like I said, my ass starts clinching and the lips of my
anus quiver. Ordinarily that'd be okay, but it's a little scary now that
I'm home; it wasn't scary in Key West, but here at home it is because it's
like he's controlling me from a distance. So, like I said, I don't know
what I'm going to do about Willie. I know what I'm going to about him for
the moment though: I'm going to stop thinking about him and enjoy being
with my friends. I'm hoping the longer I'm home the more his influence will
fade.

Helping me forget Willie for the moment are all these people in the
mall. The good thing about that is you can get lost in the crowds and not
stand-out, which is just one of the reasons us teens like it here. Chubby
and I currently are with Connor, Elliot, Elliot's boyfriend, Jay, and
Elliot's brother, Ray, who's just spotted one of his homeboys and has
broken away from our group to hook-up with his friend. I'm walking with
quiet Connor at the moment. No more thinking about Willie for now; instead,
since Connor's not talking, I think about the encounter I had with Ray just
before he saw his homeboy and left us. It makes me smile at what a
clueless-wonder Ray is. His suggestion was that I blow him so he can try to
determine if he's bi and that's just nuts right there, but a perfect fit
for Ray. If I suck him off the right way, he says he might even fuck me a
little too, as if that would be a special treat for me. He considers me his
sex counselor, and over the past two years I've counseled him twice; both
times it was him doing the fucking because he assumes I'm gay or bi, and
therefore won't mind "doing the female part" of gay fucking; that's the way
clueless Ray explains it to me. The plan he'd come-up with for today is the
two of us sneak away from the group for his "experiment". He's delusional,
of course, but I pretended to go along with him because, who knows, there's
always the chance I'm hard-up sometime and need a fuck... haha. Ray's a
nut-case, but I think he's hot too, in his own very peculiar way. But I'm
definitely not hard-up now, not in the least, so it ain't happening with
him although it's fun to lead silly Ray along a little. Rays gone for now
and as I said, at the moment I'm enjoying Connor's company, who hasn't said
anything for a few minutes. This isn't unusual for Connor. The thing I've
noticed about him today is that he seems to get more attractive every time
I see him, and I'm crazy about him anyway... as a good friend mostly,
although we've had a couple of very quick buddy sex experiences too. I'm
totally sexually satisfied at the moment though, as I've said, so even that
isn't really on my mind. Here's why I'm totally sexually satisfied:
Yesterday, when I got back from Key West, Dodger met Willie and me at the
airport to give us a ride home. Willie and Dodger got along like water and
oil of course, but that's to be expected 'cause hardly any of my friends
like Willie. It wasn't a real problem between those two though, just
slightly awkward. After we dropped Willie off, Dodger and I went to my
place because Dodger wanted the same haircut Willie made me get. During the
haircut Dodger somehow manipulated things and he ended-up giving me a hard
fucking, which I'm not complaining about one bit... just saying. Then, last
night Robby and I had our reunion and that was a total success! I fucked
him and later he fucked me, and believe me, it was far better than that
brief description might sound in the telling. And, to top off my good
fortune, last night Chubby slept with me and, surprise-surprise, in the
morning he fucked me too, and it was one of the best fucks I've ever had;
primarily because it was Chubby doing the fucking. So, that's why young Ray
Ellis is totally out of luck as far as him thinking he's going to fuck
me. Frankly, it's been an embarrassment of riches for me lately, my
complications involving Willie not withstanding.

Chubby, Connor, and I have just decided to hang-out together; it's a
Saturday night but we have no specific plans. We're going to see what
develops. All of us drift into the GAME STOP store to check-out the latest
video games. We browse around, but don't buy anything. Then it's into the
cool atmosphere of the Abercrombie & Fitch store where everything is too
expensive for any of us to buy, but we browse though there listening to the
hot music anyway. We get bored with that after awhile, so it's down to the
food court to get something to eat and drink. We all get different stuff
for our lunches except for Connor, who says he's not hungry. I know his
money problems, and his pride, so I buy a double cheeseburger and large
fries, with a large root beer to share with him, although I'll need to make
it seem like he's doing me a favor. We snag a table and sit down to eat our
lunches. After a minute or two I say to Connor, "Dude, my eyes were bigger
than my stomach, help me with these fries, will ya? I'd hate to throw them
out. He hesitates, staring at the delicious things, then asks, "Are you
sure, Dylan?" I go, "I'm positive, you'll be doing me a favor." After a
bit, I say, "Connor, these fries are salty as hell, here take some of my
soda." He looks at me, then says, "Are you..." and I interrupt him to say,
"Yes, I'm sure. You don't have any cooties, do ya?" He grins, saying, "A
few," as he sucks down some soda using my straw. I really am getting
filled-up now and pass a third of the cheeseburger to Connor, "Can you
finish this for me Connor?" He grins again, looking at the cheeseburger
that I've chewed away about two-thirds of, and he asks, "You don't got any
cooties, do ya?" I laugh at him, grinning, then say, "Just a few," and he
picks up the cheeseburger and finishes it quickly, then drinks more soda
and goes back for a few more french fries. Not hungry, my ass.

Done eating we slurp on our drinks and rag on each other, laughing at one
another. My haircut gets a lot of attention, some negative and some good,
like Ray's opinion of it. Finished our drinks we still linger, having fun
being together, then I spot Travis Hunter with his girlfriend. Chubby and I
went to high school with Travis, although we never hung-out with him. We
were on speaking terms though, and in a couple of the same classes, but
that's about it. Travis is going to Merrimack college now too, and whenever
I see him on campus he's very friendly, making me wish we had hooked-up in
high school once in awhile. He's very good looking, but not what I consider
"cute". Older looking than his age, which is nineteen... same as all of
us. Maybe it's his horn-rim glasses and the fact he wears his hair long in
an eighties style, that makes him look older. He's got a killer smile
though, and that's very cute. There's a nerdy/hottie thing going on with
Travis that's kinda unique, and he's very deferential to me; like he thinks
I'm cooler than he is or something. Overall he's very likable, and kind of
funny too... I mean the things he says and the way he says them strike me
as kind of funny. To be honest, even though he's had the same girlfriend
since his junior year in high school, I always get the feeling he's coming
on to me; it's weird and I can't describe it, but I think he is. And that
goes for our infrequent times together at Merrimack. I wave at him now and
he and the girlfriend drift over and pull up chairs to join us.

A few introductions, then Travis, looking at me, says, "My parents have
made the mistake of going away for the weekend, so naturally the first
thing I thought of was 'party time'." That's what I mean about him being
kinda funny, not laugh-out-loud funny, but clever-funny in the way he puts
things. He adds, "And you're invited," then he includes my friends, "I
mean, all of you are invited. My older brother is getting a couple of
quarter kegs of beer, and we'll grab some vodka and stuff from my old man's
collection. George, that's my brother, had a smash of a party the last time
the parents went away so the old man put a pad lock on his whisky stash,
which didn't slow down George all that much. He's already used a
screwdriver and a hammer to tap out the pins of the door's hinges, so the
lock's no problem. The door's just hanging there, open. He'll have some of
his rowdy friends at the party, of course, but they won't bother with us
nerds, so what do ya say?" I raise my eyebrows looking at the guys, and
we're all shaking our heads "Hell yeah!" So I say, "Yeah, we're in, Dude."
He's like, "Awesome, my babe and I are buying some snacks for tonight, but
feel free to bring anything you can scrounge up; food or booze." We all
talk about that for awhile, as I scrutinize Travis' girlfriend. She doesn't
have much to say and she ain't much of a looker either. I don't remember
seeing her around last year in high school; not that I spent much time
looking at girls...haha. Her eyebrows almost connect over her nose and she
just doesn't look all that "girlie" to me. Her hair is cut almost exactly
like Travis' haircut. She's wearing guys clothing too: a hoodie sweatshirt
and boys Lee jeans, black ones with skinny legs. I can't even see her
boobs, so they must be small. It's none of my business though, and then I
glance at Travis and catch him staring at me. Don't know what that means,
but it's not gonna keep me away from the party. I drank a little beer in
Key West, plus two mixed drinks on the beach, but other than that I haven't
imbibed much alcohol recently. Sounds like fun getting a little skunked;
good way to end spring break. Travis quickly averts his eyes when I look at
him, and says to Connor, who hasn't said a word except to me, since we all
sat down, "My brother's got a killer sound system and we're having a live
band, so bring dates if you want, 'cause there'll be a lot of dancing. The
more the merrier. George and me are gonna get our asses reamed out by our
folks when they get home tomorrow, so we want to make the party worth the
aggravation of that, ya know?" Chubby goes, "No problem, dude. We know how
to party." Then I add, "We're going stag tonight, Travis, so round-up some
extra babes if you can, maybe we'll get lucky tonight. I know I'm feeling
lucky." Chubby deadpans, "Yeah, Dylan a real womanizer so keep your woman
at your side." Travis looks at me, and asks, "You more of an ass guy or a
boobs guy?" Thinking of no-boobs Tootsie here, I say, "I probably lean more
along the lines of being an ass guy." He chews the inside of his cheek,
frowning at me for a second like he's disappointed, then goes, "Whatever,
they'll be plenty of girls there tonight. My girlfriends invited her
sorority from college, didn't ya, Tootsie?" She rolls her eyes, but doesn't
respond. What the hell's with her? I know she doesn't go to Merrimack, but
that's all I know about her, except Travis called her "Tootsie", maybe
that's even her name... weird name for a weird girl.

We sit around talking about the upcoming party for a bit, kind of excited
because what teen doesn't want to go to a booze party. Then Travis writes
his address on a napkin, and passing it to me, saying, "We'll get started
about nine o'clock and it'll roll on until two or three in the morning, or
until the cops break it up. See ya all there..." We all say, "Later, dude,"
as Travis and Tootsie go on their way. Chubby looks at me, and says, "You
think you're an an ass man, huh?" Then he laughs, and Elliot, looking at me
kind of funny, says, "Probably Connor and Chubby are the only two at this
table who the girls need to worry about, right?" That's quite a provocative
statement coming from shy Eliott. Jay mumbles, "Chubby fer sure." I guess
Jay's gaydar has Connor pegged correctly, but no one else at the tables
does, so no one comments on that. Connor blushes slightly and looks at me,
and in almost a whisper, asks, "Ya gonna tell Robby about the party?" I go,
"Sure thing, I'll text him now. We hope you'll hang out with us at the
party, Connor; that's if you want to." He initially looked disappointed
when I said I'd text Robby, but when I asked him to hang-out with us he
gives me his little grin, saying, "If it's okay with Robby. I'd, you know,
like to do that. I probably won't know anyone there," as his voice fades
out and he makes a face like maybe he's uncomfortable. I make a face
myself, like, "Are you kidding, Connor, Robby won't mind, he thinks you
rock." Then add, "It don't matter if we know anyone there or not, we'll
have a good time ourselves. I'll tell him in my text that the four of us
will be the four Musketeers tonight; you, me, Robby and Chubby. We want you
to hang with us!" As I'm texting Connor, Ray reappears, walking down the
crowded corridor towards us. Elliot sees him and whispers to all of us,
"Don't tell Ray about the party, he's too young, and Jay and I can't go
anyway. We have a thing to go to at our Community College." Chubby says,
"Sorry that you guys can't make it, but ya don't have to worry about me
telling your brother about the party, he's a little bit of an odd-ball,
isn't he?" Elliot goes, "Oh no! Ray's cool, but just too young." Ray gets
to our table and plops down, asking, "What's everyone so quiet about?"
Elliot says, "We're talking about big boy stuff, and you're not a big boy
yet." Ray asks, "Oh man, is it gay stuff?" and now it's Elliot's turn to
blush. Chubby goes, "Okay, Ray's question makes me realize I'm over my head
intellectualize-wise, I'm ready to head for home and watch dumb stuff on TV
like the Red Sox. You ready, Dylan, how 'bout you Connor." We both say,
"Sure," then Ray looks at me with desperation in his eyes, and asks,
"Anyone need to go to the bathroom? Um, do you, Dylan?" Chubby says, "It's
getting weirder and weirder." Then, Chubby's smiling when he asks, "What
the fuck is with you, Ray?" Ray doesn't answer Chubby directly, just looks
away mumbling, "Nothing's wrong with me." Chubby's a little on the short
side, but he still intimidates some guys... Ray being one of them. Ray
mumbles to me, "What's so weird about needing to go to the bathroom?" and
he stares hard at me, trying to get me to understand this is his "sign" for
him and me to sneak off so he can fuck me in some random supply room he
knows of.  And, oh, I forgot, he wants me to suck his cock, then he'll do
me the favor of fucking me. oh brother! The boy's so delusional, it's
actually funny. I play it straight, merely saying, "Nothing's wrong with
needing to go to the bathroom, Ray... it's just that nobody has to go, but
the restroom's over there in the corner if you need it." Chubby's says his
'goodbyes' and is already leaving, so I get up and lean close to Ray,
adding, "Sorry, dude, but my ride's leaving." He puts his lips close to my
ear, and whispers, "Yeah, well don't be too disappointed, Dylan; I can see
you are, but you missed all my signs earlier, dude! Fuck it, just call me
and we'll make plans. I'll still let you blow me, at least." I do my fake
cough to cover my laugh, and say, "You betcha, Ray." And as I'm leaving, I
hear Ray ask Elliot, "What time we leaving? I got stuff to do, bro." I
didn't hear the answer to that 'cause Connor and I are hustling to catch-up
with Chubby, but I'm chuckling to myself; Ray's in a world all his own.

On the walk to the car, in the parking lot, I give Connor a smoke, while
Chubby and I share one. Chubby's walking ahead of us a little, so Connor
takes the opportunity to ask, "What did that kid whisper in your ear,
Dylan?" I say, "He wants me to blow him, it's a long story. Ray's not to be
taken seriously, on any level."  Connor says, "Everyone wants a piece of
you, don't they?" I go, "I wish, Connor, but that's not true." He doesn't
look at me as he mumbles, "I do too, actually." I give him a neck hug with
my free arm and he takes a big drag on his cigarette, grinning. How the
fuck is he going to make it in the Army? Dammit all! Chubby reaches back
for our cigarette, and asks, "Hey, the Red Sox are on TV this afternoon,
like I said... are you guys up for catching the last couple of innings?" I
go, "Sounds good," to Chubby, then to Connor, "You might as well stay with
us until the party, Connor." He goes, "Thanks, Dylan, I'd like that." Then
he says, "I should change though, what do you think everyone will wear
tonight? Dress-up or, I don't know..." He doesn't get out much. I go,
"You're fine as you are, but you can look through my stuff to see if you
want to borrow something; a sweatshirt or something." He nods his head,
mumbling, "That's cool. I'd like to wear something of yours." Connor and I
catch up with fast walking Chubby. He's chuckling, he must have heard what
Connor said and he's probably wondering how Robby's going to like the way
Connor sort of hangs on me. I glance over at him and see him smirking his
cute smirk, so I go, "What?" Chubby's shakes his head, smiling harder, so I
guess I was right. Chubby's wrong though, Robby likes Connor; everybody
likes him... except maybe his asshole roommate, or maybe his asshole
roommate likes Connor best of all and doesn't like it when Connor wants to
be with anyone else. That's a disturbing thought. Here's another one:
There's no way Connor and that asshole Josh are getting it on, is there?

We watch the ball game in Chubby's condo sharing three of Tris' beers; just
a little front loading for the party. I get a text from Robby wanting the
address of the party. He's hanging out with guys from the baseball team and
won't be back until nine and then he'll need to shower, so he won't be
arriving at the party until ten-thirty or so. That's cool. I remember his
proclamation that I'm not to get pissed when he's doing stuff with the
baseball team. He told me that's because I sort of strayed with Willie in
Key West a little bit; well, it was more than a little bit, but I don't
think Robby wants to hear about the extent of that. Thinking of Willie for
a second, my anus lips vibrate. Goddammit! Willie did a number on me in Key
West and I can't get it out of my mind! I guess I don't really want to
forget it; not yet anyway. But I need to stop thinking about him so often!
Shaking my head to clear it, I text Robby the address. Connor and I are on
the sofa. Chubby's in an over-stuffed chair with his feet on a footstool
drinking his beer; then he gets a cell phone call. I'm thinking, 'Dammit,
if that's one of his girlfriend I'm going to be pissed! He's suppose to
hang with us guys tonight'. Listening to him talk, it doesn't sound like
he's talking to a girlfriend. Then I hear, "I'll ask him, mom." Chubby
looks at me, and says, "The moms want us to come to the restaurant for
dinner during their break, which is six o'clock tonight. Whadda you think?"
I go, "A free restaurant dinner? Are you kidding me, hell yeah! Tell them
Connor's with us." Chubby goes, "Oh yeah," and talks some more on the
phone. When he's done, he tells me. "Prime rib is tonight's special
again. "Hot shit!" I yell. Then asks, "What about Connor?" Chubby's like,
"Of course it's okay with the moms. You know that any friend of our is
always welcome as far as the moms are concerned. Geez, Dylan, get real! We
should clean-up a little first, don't ya think?" I go, "We both had showers
this morning, dude. That's clean enough for me." He says, "Yeah, I know
that. I meant change our clothes for dinner." I mutter, "Oh yeah, good
idea. It's a pretty nice restaurant." Then to Connor, "Come on down to my
place and pick out some stuff, it'll all fit you as good as it fits me." He
nods again, but I think he feels self-conscious like he's butting-in on the
dinner or something. I don't know that for sure, but to be safe, I say,
"This'll be fun, Connor. I'm so glad we ran into you today. I missed you,
dude." He brightens up, "I'm the lucky one, Dylan, but thanks."

When we're in my bedroom I show Connor some of my shirts, not that I have
very many here at the condo, most of my clothes are at our college
apartment. Connor chooses my polo blue, button-down-collar shirt and khaki
pants, the same thing I had on for my reunion with Robby yesterday. I only
had those things on for an hour or so, it's not like I wore them all
night. Still, I get out the ironing board to iron them. Robby says, "Let me
do that, Dylan. I'm not used to being waited on." I go, "Sure, Connor," and
choose a crew neck sweater to wear over a t-shirt for myself, and clean
jeans that I got for Christmas. They look presentable, certainly more so
than what I wore all day today. Connor, standing at the ironing board, is
now wearing just his jockey shorts and t-shirt, and he looks hot. He's
doing a meticulous job of ironing the shirt. It wasn't really wrinkled to
begin with, but I don't say anything. As I'm changing into my clean jeans
and crew neck sweater, he asks, "How do you think I'd look in that cool
hair style you're rocking nowadays. You look really, um, cool with it! You
look kinda like a cute tough-guy." I go, "Really?" as I check myself out in
the mirror. I do look a little bit like a badass, at that. Fuckin' Willie,
maybe he knows what he's doing after all and, of course, my damn anus
begins to quiver again as I think his name. To put a stop to that I
remember Willie didn't get his hair cut like this, so maybe he don't know
what he's doing, after all; and that thought calms my ass quivers. But
still, Willie's there in my head. Shaking my head, like I did earlier to
clear it, I say, "Gee, Connor, this haircut's a bit radical for you, don't
ya think?" He's like, "Hmmm, maybe, but I like it on you." That makes me
feel good, but we leave his next haircut up in the air. It was fun cutting
Dodger's hair like mine, but I'll let Connor mull it over some more. I
don't want to sway him one way or the other. My haircut has been more
accepted than I expected it would be, it's about fifty-fifty for thumbs-up
and thumbs-down. I really like the two pierced-ears look too, they add to
my badass image. I also like that Connor added "cute" in his
description. Hope I'm not getting conceited with all the compliments I've
received this past week; Willie went overboard with compliments, and then
Robby too, and now Connor. It's all good, I guess. Then I adjust my dick
when I realize I'm thinking about Willie in Key West again.

But damn, I look at Connor's ass and put Willie out of my mind. I mean,
Connor's got himself a killer boy's-ass. I'd like to goose him except I
don't want to encourage him; it seems he's working up a little crush on
me. Man, he's going to make some gay boy awfully happy someday. To return
his compliment to me, I say, "In case I haven't mentioned it lately,
Connor, you're looking mighty good, as in hot, yourself." He turns his
head, biting his bottom lip, to look at me. Then he mumbles, "Thanks, um,
do ya think we can mess around a little?" I go, "I'd really love to, but we
gotta leave for the restaurant to meet the moms." My dick swings from the
left side of my underwear to the middle and I unconsciously adjust my
package. Whew! See, I do have some self-control, some will power. I gotta
admit though, Chubby's awesome fuck on my ass first thing this morning
seems like it was a long time ago by now. One last grab of my dick, then I
call Chubby's cell. He goes, "Dylan, whassup?" I tell him we're just about
ready and he says Connor and I should meet him at the car. Connor's
finished ironing and he's put the iron and ironing board back to where I
got it. He's almost dressed, just finishing buttoning-up the shirt. I grab
a brush and cup his chin in my hand, saying, "Damn, your lucky. Your hair
grows fast," as I brush front to back at his hair. He stands still for me
as I do it, his sweet beer-breath on my face. Looking into his beautiful
dark blue eyes for a few seconds, I smile and he blushes. Geez, he blushes
more than me and that's saying something. Done his hair, I brush mine, but
there's not much to brush. I can't resist running my fingers through
Connor's hair though, and then brushing it again; it was a buzz cut but
it's grown in quickly and now feels soft and fuzzy. "Nice hair," I say, and
he leans in to give me a quick kiss on the lips. "You're my best friend,
Dylan." That takes me by surprise and I stammer, "Um, ah, well thanks, for
that, Connor. I'm honored."

It's slightly awkward for a second there, then I go, "Well, ah, Chubby's
ready. Let's meet him at the Jeep. Oh, do you want a jacket, it'll get
chilly at night." He goes, "How about a sweatshirt?" I go "Better idea,
I'll bring one too." I grab my hoodie for him 'cause I think a boy with the
hood up looks really hot. I only have one hoodie here, so I'll let Connor
wear that and I'll take a regular sweatshirt for myself. Carrying the
sweatshirts, we hustle outside and down the steps to where I parked the
Jeep at the curb. Checking my watch, it's already six o'clock so we're late
again, naturally. Chubby's got the car running and off we go with Connor in
the middle and me riding shotgun. Chubby goes, "You two look sharp!" Connor
mutters, "Thanks," and I say, "You too, Chubby,". I can tell Connor's happy
hangin' with us and that makes me feel good. The drive is only about ten
minutes. The moms work at a slightly upscale restaurant/lounge that serves
good food at reasonable prices, especially for us because it's free. My mom
meets us as we're walking in and comes over to give me a hug and a kiss on
my cheek. She says, "Dylan, I love that stylish haircut!" I blush,
naturally, and mumble, "Thanks, mom," but I am relieved she said that. Of
course, she thought the mohawk haircut the mohawk man gave me last summer
was cool too, she'd say it looks good if I wore my hair in braids. My mom
is super supportive of me. She gives me another kiss, then hugs Chubby and
kisses him too, and says, "Chubby, you have a fresh haircut too. Did Dylan
cut it for you? It looks great." Chuby says, "I wouldn't dare let anyone
else cut it, Dylan would pout for a month."  She laughs, saying, "Oh, he
would not. Would you, Dylan?" I go, "Yeah, I would," and Chubby squeezes my
hand, going, "Well, no one but you touches my hair, dude, so ya got nothing
to worry about."  Mom is busy making a fuss over Connor as I think back to
the first time I met Ricky, of the infamous window washing boys. He and
Chubby came to my condo so Ricky could use my barber clippers to give
Chubby his first buzz cut since we were kids. Chubby said Ricky insists his
window washer boys all have buzz cuts. I was so jealous and pissed-off I
almost got in a fight with Ricky. We didn't get along from the start. He
had his eye on Chubby, I have no doubt, and before it was all done he
really fucked Chubby up too. We got him though, we got revenge on his ass
good!

By the time my mom's done hugging and kissing Connor, and telling him how
handsome he is, Connor's face is the color of blood. Boy, I feel bad for
him, but my mom loves my friends, and Connor really is wicked handsome, so
she's just being honest about it. She leads us to a table for five near the
kitchen. It's out of the way of the regular diners. Crisp white tablecloth,
with dark blue cloth napkins and shiny silver wear. Nice! We sit down,
making small talk, and a few minutes later Tris comes out of the kitchen
with a tray containing five cups of New England clam chowder. She serves
us, saying, "You boys are ridiculously good looking! College boys too, you
make us so proud, and it's awesome seeing you again Connor. It's been
awhile; since Easter at the Dickers, right?" He says, "Yes, ma'am. It's
very nice seeing you and Mrs. Newman too. And thank you for allowing me to
join you for dinner." She says, "You are so sweet," and then Connor needs
to endure the same treatment my mom gave him as Tris hugs his neck while
kissing his cheek. Chubby and I exchange knowing glances. This is what you
get from our moms. Then it's me that Tris attacks with a kiss and a neck
hug, saying, "Oh my, that's a short haircut, Dylan. It looks great on you
too." I mutter, "Thanks, Tris. I gave Chubby a haircut last night. Do you
like it?" Why not milk out a compliment. She gushes about how nice Chubby's
haircut is, as she's kissing her son. With all that out of the way we try
the soup as my mom asks me about Key West. I tell her about the things we
saw on the bus tour, and describe the beautiful water with it's various
shades of blue, and how the beach sand is so fine and needs to be imported
from other places because there's no natural sand in Key West, and how the
weather's so great there, except for the first and last days when it
rained. I didn't mention Willie or his suicide attempt, or that he fucked
me into a constant state of sexual arousal because that would be too much
information, ya know.

After my travel-log, my mom goes, "Oh my, you got your other ear pierced
again too, and you bought new earrings. They're very nice, are they gold?"
I go, "How could I afford gold, mom?" and I change the subject from me to
Chubby, by saying, "Chubby's finished with his part-time job." They both
look at Chubby and now it's Chubby's turn to be grilled by both moms. They
laugh as Chubby mumbles, "Thanks a lot, turncoat," to me. It's every man
for himself when the moms get their mitts on you. Chubby has to fill them
in on his last days working for Mary Jo's father and then they get into
Chubby's love life, asking about Samantha and Mary Jo and getting very
little information from Chubby for their trouble. Chubby's an expert at
talking without saying much. We're done the soup, and my mom clears the
table and ask what we want for dinner. Chubby and I tell her, medium rare
prime rib with a baked potato lathered in sour cream, butter, and
chives... hold the vegetables. My mom says, "Oh, don't be silly. Vegetables
are delicious here; you boys liked the kernel corn the last dinner we had
here." I go, "Okay, I'll have the corn." She giggles, then says, "It's not
our vegetable of the day, how about creamed spinach?" Chubby and I both act
like we're gagging, muttering, "God, no!!" We settle on a salad with
Russian dressing. My mom says, "Connor honey, does that sound good to you?"
He says, "Yes, please. It sounds delicious, but I don't believe I've ever
had prime rib. Is it like roast beef?" Mom says, "Yes, only better. Same
potato and salad that the boys are getting?" He goes, "Oh yes,
please. Thank you." "Aren't you the sweetest thing though! I'll put the
order in now." I know Tris and my mom will have something very light to
eat, like a Caesar salad. Maybe with salmon, or something equally yucky on
top of the salad. The conversation comes easily once the grilling period is
over. Chubby and I relate some half truths, and a few outright lies to the
moms about college; things we know they'd like to hear. We can't very well
concentrate on the beer parties and classes we skip. We skip to the limit
for each course, but our grades are actually pretty good although we still
exaggerate what we're expecting for grades the last semester. What's the
harm, it makes the moms feel good. If the actual grades don't match our
predictions we just say that the professor's turned-out to be a hard
grader, or he has it in for us for some vague reason. We get "C's" and
"B's" and that's pretty good. Connor only speaks when one of the moms asks
him something, which they do every so often trying to include him in the
conversation. Then Chubby regales us with some factoids that the mom's
marvel at. "How do you remember all these factoids?" my mom wants to
know. Chubby says, "I've got a photographic memory," which gets me into my
fake coughing bit. The moms never doubt Chubby's factoids, like I do. They
assume he's right. Ya gotta love our moms. They'll both be supportive of me
being gay when I "come out" to them, and of course there's always the
possibility they already suspect I'm gay because they never ask me about
girlfriends like they do Chubby, and even Connor gets quizzed on that
topic. He blushes, saying, "I don't have a girlfriend at the moment," and
the moms don't push it, probably they figure he doesn't have a girlfriend
because he's so shy.

Our dinners come out perfectly cooked. The moms do indeed have salads; this
time with strips of chicken on top. That's not so bad and it's surprising
they had both the clam chowder and a salad. They're not big eaters,
concerned with their figures I suppose. They both are dating and Tris has
been going with the same guy for two years. I thought my mom found
Mr. Right with her last boyfriend, but it didn't work out. Both Tris and my
mom had babies when they were seventeen, Chubby and me were the babies, so
that makes them both thirty-six years old. Hard to imagine being that old,
but there you have it. The food is awesome, the prime rib tender, juicy,
and delicious. The moms eat only half their salads, then my mom says, "Our
break is over, Tris, we better get back before the boss has a conniption."
Tris says, "Wow, that went fast. Well boys, it's wonderful seeing you,
thanks for coming to dinner. We don't see enough of you guys. Connor you're
invited any time, honey. Don't be a stranger." My mom goes over those same
basic sentiments, then adds, "And Dylan, sweetheart, I'm so glad you're
back safely and that you had such an interesting trip to Florida." Us boys
thank the moms for dinner and promise to make them a great brunch tomorrow
morning. It's what we always do on the Sundays we're home. More kisses
follow; goodbye kisses, then Chubby spreads his hand, saying, "What? This
is it? How 'bout dessert?" Tris says, "How'd we forget that? We'll bring
you dessert menus when you finish your dinners." Then they're away in a
burst of energy. Our moms are awesome!

We continue eating, but now the table seems calm, the moms took their
energy with them. They can wear you out, but in a nice way. Our prime ribs
came with the bone in. When we'd cut and eaten all the meat we can get at,
both Chubby and me pick up the bone and chew off the remaining bits like we
do with baby back ribs; this is a much bigger bone though. We wouldn't do
that with the moms still at the table because ya get a lot of fatty juice
on your cheeks while chewing the tidbits off the bone, get greasy fingers
too, but it's worth the mess. Anyway, that's what we have napkins for!
Connor ate everything, including every bit of his salad, but he didn't
pick-up the bone. Probably too polite. I get filled-up before finishing the
salad, although that Russian dressing is sweet! I can make it from scratch,
and often do for us guys at the apartment. Chubby even ate the skin of his
bakes potato. I've never thought the skin was all that tasty, and say
so. Chubby goes, "That just proves ya don't have a gourmet's tastebuds." I
go, "Seems a tad brutish eating the skin, got nothing to do with being a
gourmet. What do you think, Connor?" He says, "I think you're both right,"
and we chuckle at that with Connor going, "What?" He wouldn't disagree with
either of us although I win the argument with Chubby because Connor didn't
eat his potato skin either; a fact I point out to Chubby, who says, "That
don't prove anything, Connor's probably full. That's all." We chat about
the party tonight and then my mom comes with dessert menus as a uber cute
busboy clears the table with me going into my clumsy mode: first, getting a
touch on his hand, and then standing up too quickly, bumping into him. He's
all apologetic, but I'm betting he's calling me an asshole in his head, heh
heh. Damn, he's cute, but probably too young for me. When he leaves with a
full tray of dirty dishes Connor nods at the departing busboy, saying,
"That's what I do in the restaurant I work at. I usually work weekends, but
they didn't need me this time. I'm lucky, I'd have missed this great day
with you two, and this delicious dinner too. It's the best meal I've ever
had." That's the same thing he said after Easter dinner at the
Dickers. He's so sweet, like both moms said about him earlier.

For dessert, it unanimous, we all choose fudge cake with dark chocolate
icing and a scoop of vanilla ice cream. Chubby says, "You were too full to
eat your salad, Dylan, but not too full for dessert. What's up with that?"
I go, "That's right, mommy, I got my big boy's appetite back." He laughs,
"Yeah, I hear ya, bro." After every crumb of that fantastic dessert is
devoured, Chubby goes, "Ya know what would top off this meal perfectly?" I
go, "Um, coffee?" He says, "Your close, bro, I'm thinking: Irish coffee."
Connor asks, "What's that?" Chubby says, "We'll surprise ya." When he can
get his mom's eye, Chubby motions her over and begins conning her. "Mom, I
just wanted to say how much fun this has been. Thank you so much for
treating us to dinner." She hugs his neck cheek to cheek, saying, "We love
you boys so much. You bring so much joy into our lives." Chubby endures the
neck hug, and the kiss on top of his head, mumbling, "That's really sweet,
mom. Ah, by the way, Dylan wants to ask you for a favor." She says, "Sure,
honey, what is it?" Then Tris looks at me, as Chubby says, "Dylan?" I go,
"What? It was your idea." Chubby goes, "Dylan's embarrassed to ask, mom,
but he thought it would be a great idea if we all had an Irish coffee, just
one isn't going to hurt us. You know, it's for Dylan's welcome home
dinner. As a special favor to him." I go, "Oh brother!" She laughs, saying,
"You're so sneaky, Jeffrey Romero. But for Dylan's home coming dinner I'll
see what I can do." Chubby and I both say, "You're the best!" She's shaking
her head, knowing she's been buttered up something terrible, but ten
minutes later a friend of the mom's, and older lady, brings us the Irish
coffees, saying, "You didn't get these from me, boys. My, but aren't you a
good looking group though. My goodness! No wonder your moms are so proud of
you all." We give polite thanks. Irish coffee has that tasty whipped cream
on top, which I stick my tongue in as soon as the waitress leave, "Yum!" is
my conclusion. Even though the coffee's are too hot to drink we all take a
sip anyway, and Connor says, "Hot! Taste like whiskey, but really good
too." Chubby says, "Bingo, Connor. There's Jameson whiskey in your Irish
coffee, plus real whipped cream on top. The Irish know how to enjoy their
coffee." Connor says, "I'll say," and he takes another swallow. "Still
really hot," he goes, and I say, "That's why Chubby and I are waiting." He
grins, saying, "You boys are way smarter than me," as he takes some more
too-hot coffee, mumbling, "This is delicious stuff."

We take our time drinking the Irish coffees while talking about funny
things that happened at college during the year. When we get tired of
sitting we decide to smoke cigarettes outside. Standing, I go, "Shouldn't
we leave a tip? I mean, a free dinner with all the extras deserves
something from us." Chubby goes, "You got class, dude, leave about forty
bucks." I go, "Nice try cheapskate," as I throw a twenty on the
table. Connor says, "I've got eight dollars, I, um, forgot to bring my
wallet this morning." I go, "You're our guest, you get it next time, okay?"
Chubby gets out a twenty, we all know Connor's money problems, and says,
"Oh yeah, Connor. Keep your money, we wanted to treat you. I was just
jobbing Dylan, here's my twenty." Connor blushes, mumbling, "Thank you, you
guys are so nice. I, ah, well thanks very much." A little bit awkward
again, so Chubby and me say no more about the tip. We see Tris on the way
out and she repeats the goodbye hugs and kisses. When we break away we
hustle out the front door before my mom can grab us. It's a really nice
night for a party, especially for this time of year. I get inside the Jeep
to start it and then get some tunes going on the radio. Back outside I pass
Connor a Marlboro Light, then light one for Chubby and me and take a drag
before passing the smoke to Chubby, saying, "I'm glad they have a live
band, I feel like dancing tonight." Chubby goes, "Where'd ya learn to dance
so good?" I say, "A couple of years back a friend taught me," not wanting
to bring up Willie's name because it usually gets negative comments and
that's so unfair to Willie because these guys don't really know him at
all. With exhaled cigarette smoke drifting from his nose and mouth, Connor
asks, "Can you dance too, Chubby?" Chubby goes, "I'm damn good, dude, even
if I do say so myself." I go, "Ha! That's a good one. Here's Chubby's fast
dance, Connor," and, to the song that's playing on the radio, I mimic the
two dance moves Chubby uses over and over." Chubby laughs, saying, "You
suck so much, bro! I don't dance like that." I say to Connor, "I did it
exactly like Chubby, except I kept time with the beat, Chubby ignores that
detail." Chubby blows smoke in my face, saying, "That's so not true! I roll
like this," and he does exactly the moves I just mimicked him doing."
Connor says, "I think you dance cool, Chubby. Wish I could dance." He
wouldn't say anything negative about anyone if you put a gun to his head;
God forbid that anyone would ever do that. Then I remember he's going into
the Army and that thought brings me down a little.

The beers we had before coming to the restaurant, plus the whiskey in the
Irish coffee have combined to give me a little buzz. I hardly ever drink
whiskey. The booze definitely has something to do with me dancing. I say,
"I'll show you a couple of moves, Connor." A new song comes on, and I go,
"Try this," and do a basic dance step, saying, "Be sure you move your arms
and feet, and that ass of your's a little too. Getting your whole body
moving is ideal, but those parts must be moving." He tries to move like I
did, then says, "That's not too hard," and he tries it again. Maybe the
reason he doesn't think it's hard is because he didn't come close to doing
it correctly. I go, "You almost got it," as I glance at Chubby, who's
smirking again, his lips trying not to smile. Chubby holds his tongue as I
do the move, point by point, and have Connor try each step, "Now try doing
all four parts, Connor. You're doing good." There are people coming and
going, but the whiskey was just enough to allow us to ignore them even
though they all gawk over at us. Most of them smile a nice smile, but one
of the groups includes two teenage boys, one of them calls out, "No dancing
in the parking lot, girls." Chubby's head snaps around and he snarls, "Come
over here and say that, toad!" I go, "They're with their parents, Chubby."
To the father's credit, he keeps his attention on his son, yelling at him,
"Get in the car, wise guy!" and that's the end of that, but it reminded me
that it isn't out of the realm of possibility that Chubby will get us in a
fight before the party's over. I say "we" because if one of us gets into a
fight the other one will automatically jump right in. It's always been that
way: starting a fight with one of us is the same as starting a fight with
both of us. I take a deep breath hoping we can avoid fighting, I'm not as
anxious to fight as Chubby always seems to be. We lose half the fights
anyway, fer christssakes...

The wiseass's comment puts a damper on the dance lesson, so I check my
wristwatch, and say, "Jeez, it's almost nine already, lets hit the road,"
and that's what we do. It takes fifteen minutes to get there, but we need
to park three blocks away near the highway, there aren't any open spaces
closer. Must be a big party. When we get to the front door I can tell the
party has spread out to the back yard, because I see the lights back there
and hear music, but we don't see a way to get back there in the
dark. "Should I ring the bell?" asks Connor. Chubby tries the door knob and
the door opens. He says, "We're invited, no need to ring the bell," and in
he goes with Connor standing there waiting for me to go in next. He says,
"I feel nervous, Dylan." I smile and pat his shoulder, saying, "There's no
reason to be nervous, Connor, stick with me." I know what he means though
because I used to be like that with new experiences too. I'd always stick
close to Chubby, who I don't believes has ever been nervous in his
life. I'm not nearly as bad as I once was 'cause I've discovered there
isn't anything to be nervous about; just go with the flow and don't make a
spectacle of yourself. I think I had a bit of an inferiority complex when I
was a kid... something like that. Chubby says, "Try the door," and it's
unlocked so we go inside where we find maybe ten boys and girls in the
living room, all of them ignore us as we walk through to the kitchen where
we there's a big crowd, including Randy. "Dylan!" he yells, "Come on over
here, dude." We make our way through the people and I'm noticing that no
one here looks familiar, most of the group must be Randy's brother's
friends because they look older than us. Randy gives me the one arm hug,
his cheek rubbing mine which is basically a no-no when doing this one-arm
hug greeting but I don't mind, and he shakes hands a little too long as
well. Strong booze odor on his breath, but he's talking okay. Ignoring
Chubby and Connor, Randy gets his arm across my shoulders and pulls he over
to one of the kegs, "I'll get ya a beer, dude," and he fills a plastic cup,
saying, "You know Harry Black, right?" I go, "Your roommate? Yeah, I know
him a little, where is he?" Travis laughs, saying, "That boy is hammered
already. I want you to see him, he's pretending he fell asleep in the
powder room. Everyone just ignores him when they use the toilet. It's a
riot." I'm thinking that this party started way before nine o'clock. I
mutter, "I can't wait to see that, Travis, but right now I gotta get my
homeboys some beers." Travis starts to say something, but somebody grabs
his arm and yanks it. Travis says, "Whassup, George?" George says, "Get
that dork roommate of yours out of the fucking powder room. He's goosing
the girls when they sit on the toilet." Travis goes into gales of laughter,
but allows his brother to drag him off, to the powder room I assume.

Chubby's already poured himself and Connor cups of beer. "Lets go outside,
Dylan," Chubby mutters looking around, adding, "It's too crowded in
here". Outside a girl screams, "Jeffrey Romaro, what are you doing here?"
Then she yells to her girlfriend, "Dottie, Jeffrey's here." Two girls
surround Chubby, as he goes, "Yo, look at you two." Chubby and the girls
drift over to a group that includes a couple of guys I recognize from
Merrimack, but I don't remember their names. I recognize both the girls
too, who are both from our college, but I've never spoken to them. Connor
asks, "What should we do, Dylan?" I mutter, "We'll stroll around to see if
we know anyone, and then maybe just find ourselves a comfortable spot and
tie a load on. Okay?" Connor says, "Hope we don't find anyone we know,"
then he chuckles. He's not very subtle. We do run into Tracy Drake, who's
throw all those beer parties Saturday or Sunday afternoons at Merrimack. We
stop to talk with him, but he's with his main squeeze so we don't stay
long. Other than that I only recognize some kids from high school, but like
I said, I never hung out with Travis or his crew so I don't know
them. "Looks like it's just you and me for now, Connor," I say, squeezing
the back of his neck. We light cigarettes and it obvious Connor's happy to
hear we're not going to hook up with anyone. He actually starts a
conversation describing his interview with the Army recruiter; he tells me
some of the things he expects to encounter at basic training. Connor's very
sincere about everything and I can tell from what he's telling me that he's
done a lot of background research on what he can expect in the Army. He
also appears to be scared to death. I mean, he was nervous coming to this
party, so how nervous must he be about what's ahead of him in the Army. My
heart aches for him, but he's already joined so there's no turning back. I
try saying positive things about how professional our modern Army is, and
stuff like that. He gives me his undivided attention for anything I
say. Hell, I just enjoy looking at him while he talks or he's listening to
me and try not to get too down about his Army talk. I'll always be
supportive of him; what a courage life he's led, and will now probably lead
once he's in the Army. I admire him tremendously, but I don't want to get
maudlin about it. He might misinterpret it as me feeling sorry for him. I
do, but no one likes to be pitied.

We see a couple of empty lawn chairs situated just outside the main mass of
people and plop down in the chairs; Connor and me, just a couple of
wallflowers. Soon we're now on our second beer and second cigarette, mostly
just listening to a live high school band that has a pretty good lead
singer. This boy singer registers an eight on the cute-o-meter in my brain,
but he's young. Connor and I are comfortable and contended enough until two
girls come over. I noticed then a little while ago, they were whispering to
each other and looking in our direction. They look like twins, cute enough,
but I can't tell their ages. One of them says, "Okay, boys, you can't hide
over here by yourselves. Dance with us, that's our little brother's band
that's playing. They're pretty good, aren't they?" I go, "Yeah they really
are, you girls in high school?" The one doing the talking says, "Hey! We're
college girls, we go to UMass Amherst. We're sophomores, how about you?" I
say, "Merrimack college, but we're too young for you guys, we're freshman."
She asks, "Can I have a cigarette?" I hold the box of Marlboro out to her,
and she adds, "For Mary too?" I go, "Sure, but we don't dance." She says,
"Liar! I know you party-hardy 'cause Travis told us. You can't party
without knowing how to dance." I ask, "What else did he tell you?" Then I
hold out my Bic and light each of their cigarettes. The talky one says,
"Travis says you're a ladies man, and I can already see that you are. Cute
too!" I go, "You've been misinformed." She says, "Liar!" and waves a hand
at me, saying, "We're twins, I'm Jo and this is Mary." I point at myself,
and say, "Dylan," then point at Connor, saying, "We're twins too, he's
Connor." She says, "Liar! You're not twins, and we knew your names already,
we asked Travis." I can't think of anything else to say and obviously
Connor can't, but Jo can. She goes on to tell us much more than we need to
know about their sexual activities at UMass. I don't look at Connor, but
I'm betting he's blushing. We're finished our cigarettes, so to shut Jo up,
I say, "Okay, let's dance, you and me. Mary will need to teach Connor how,"
glancing at Connor as I say it. He looks like he's going to the guillotine,
but he's had enough booze tonight to at least stand up and walk a few steps
towards the kids who are dancing, with Mary leading him by the hand. I hear
her voice for the first time, she says, "We're the quiet ones, Connor, you
and me. We'll do good together." Jo and I take a few steps over to the edge
of the dancers and start dancing. I've danced with girls before, it's okay
because fast dancing involves almost no touching. Jo kind of has a guy's
personality anyway, it struck me kind of funny how she casually says,
"Liar!" at each of my lies. It made me smile each time.

We dance through two songs: I'm a better fast dancer than she is, but she's
pretty good too and we probably look good together. A group of about a
dozen guys and girls took notice and gave us a little hand when we
finish. Jo takes my hand on the way back to our seats. Her hand does not
feel like a boy's hand, but it isn't giving me the creeps or anything. She
sits in Connor's chair and I light a cigarette and hold the box out for Jo,
but she shakes her head, and says, "No thanks, for now. I'm going to get us
all fresh beers." I like that, usually the girl wants the boy to do the
fetching. She's back five minutes later with four cups of beer balanced on
a plastic dish just as Connor and Mary return. Mary's still holding
Connor's hand and sort of pulling him along, with Connor chuckling and
blushing. "How'd it go?" I ask Connor, and he replies, "Not good, I suck."
Mary says, emphatically, "You do not suck, Connor! You learn fast." So I
don't know who's closer to the truth, not that I care particularly. I'd
just as soon go off with Connor and hang out, but how to accomplish that
without being rude or hurting the twin's feelings? They're nice looking,
average height with nice girlie figures and good personalities, but they're
girls and I'm interested in boys. Now I wish Travis was coming on to me
again. It's my fault Connor and I got involved with the twins in the first
place. It's because of me pretending I'm a straight dude, who's looking to
pickin-up a hot chick tonight. That's the impression I gave Travis when we
were in the food court at the mall. Travis probably thinks he's doing us a
favor turning these girls loose on us, when my purpose in hinting I was a
hot-to-trot straight boy was to persuade Travis he's wasting his time
coming on to me, if he even actually was coming on to me; I'm not sure
about that. Anyway it led to this. How the fuck do I get myself in so many
jams?

We drink and smoke with the Jo doing most of the talking. She's pretty
funny, self deprecating and all, and when we're just about done our third
beers when a rescue occurs. Two guys, older looking guys, come over saying
to Jo and Mary, "So this is where you're hiding! Trying to pick-up young
meat, huh? Come on, we wanna dance." Mary introduces Connor and me to Hot
Dog and Paul; they're the names they go by apparently. Paul says,
"Goddammit, Mary, were you smoking again. You said you quit." She goes, "I
lied, Paul, get over yourself." He makes a face, resigned to being pussy
whipped I guess. The guys are nice enough, but as it turns out they're Mary
and Jo's dates for the party and after a few minutes they bid us
goodbye. Last words from Mary to Connor and me, are these, "We'll ditch
these guys as soon as we can and be back for more dancing and maybe much
more than that... hahaha." Connor and I wave, both of us with goofy grins
on our faces, happy to be free at last. As they walk away I hear Mary say,
"Oh, they are so cute, we had to meet them. They're Travis' friends from
college. So innocent that..." and that's all we could hear as they get lost
in the crowd. "Whew!" I say to Connor, "Well, we can't stay here any
longer. They might be back!" We both laugh with relief and work our way to
one of the beer kegs, looking for Chubby as we go. I see him doing his
silly dance with a well endowed girl who's even shorter than
Chubby. They're both laughing at something, so he's gonna be occupied with
her for awhile. Connor says, "We have the time now, Dylan. Um, I mean,
can't we mess around just a little bit. I hate to be a nag, but being with
you gets me kinda, you know..." I go, "Hot?" He makes a face, mumbling,
"Please don't make it sound dirty or, you know..." I say, "Connor, I'd love
to mess around with you, but I'm trying to turn over a new leaf and be true
to Robby. I wasn't as, um, 'true' to him as I wanted to be in Key West."
Connor shrugs, saying, "Okay, I understand. That guy in Key West is lucky
though." This sucks! I feel bad for Connor, so I say, "How about a little
making out. If we can find a safe spot, that is." He brightens, "Okay, if
you want to. I feel bad constantly nagging you, but, you know, I can't help
it. Damn, I wish I wasn't gay." I ask, "Who knows you're gay?" He says,
"Just you as far as I know." Hmmm, good, he isn't fucking around with that
turd, Josh.

We wander around a little, sipping the last drops of beer from our cups,
then find a good secluded spot. Connor says, "How 'bout over there, Dylan?"
It's a dark area, no light reaches it, except some moonlight, and there's
nobody around. We can still hear the music and the conversations that blend
together into noise, so we're not very far from the party. But even if
someone stumbles by, they probably couldn't see us. I go, "Yeah! Let me
taste those lips of yours." Connor makes a strange gulping sound in his
throat trying to say something. I take hold of his arm and steer him into
some kind of cupola; it's round with a railing and a roof. Wooden benches
at the back; there's the sound of a small waterfall close by. Probably a
nice spot in nice weather. Im pretty sure the waterfall is fake, but it
sounds cosy. Our eyes adjust to the darkness allowing us to see where we're
at, and each other. Connor's not too interested in the cupola, he's staring
at me with his lips parted. He looks awesome in the limited moonlight
available tonight; he looks awesome in any light actually. Without a word,
I cup my hand behind his head and bring my lips to his. Of course it feels
sexy being lips to lips with him. He hugs around my waist as my tongue
meets his for a long French kiss. I slide my wet lips off his and spread
some of my saliva on his cheek, then lick around his lips before beginning
a long sloppy kiss, and follow that by sucking on his bottom lip, pulling
it out some before returning my tongue to his mouth. Connor's tongue is in
constant motion as my hand reaches down between his legs to grope his very
firm cock, then massage it into a hard boner as a groan escapes his
lips. My cock is getting hard too as our mouth-to-mouth sucking and licking
continues for another two minutes. The khaki pants of mine that Connor's
wearing are very light weight allowing me to get a couple of fingers around
his boner to do short strokes near the head, which is now up near his his
belt and very hard; I stroke his boner up and down as Connor begins making
little squeaky sounds and humping his hips into my hand. Soon he gasps,
pulls his mouth off mine and slides his lips to my ear, quietly moaning,
"I'm going to cum." His cheek is against my cheek and he moves it slightly,
gasping. His hips continue small humps into my boner now. It's so sexy, he
smells so boyish as he's continuing to make sounds of pleasure. They're
almost cooing sounds, and they create a dreamy intimate atmosphere in the
cozy cupola. I stoke his cock up to the head of his boner and now feel
wetness where his precum has soaked through the front of the khaki
pants. He's total docile, laying against me making his moans of pleasure,
his forehead on my shoulder as I give him kisses on the side of his
face. The wet spot gets wetter, as he mutters, "This feels so good,
Dylan.... sooo good. Please, make it last."  My hand is resting on the back
of his neck now, and I begin ruffling the hairs at the back of his head,
still stroking his incredibly hard boner. It's so nice to be holding this
wonderful boy and making him feel good. Who deserves to feel good more than
Connor? Tightening my fingers on his cock, I stroke faster, and in less
than a minute he humps his crotch hard against me going, "Ahhhh," and
apparently he shoots a stream of cum into his pants, then another even
harder hump of his hips with him holding his crotch against me doing little
up-lifts. My hand has come off his cock so now we're dry docking each
other, except he's not dry. Another quick lift of his boner against mine
with another moan of ecstasy, then a louder, "Ahhhh!" and the wet spot
spreads to cover the entire front of his pants. My fingers are wet with
soaked-through cum before I pulled my hand from between us. By now I've
dropped a few drips of precum in my pants too. It's so exciting and
arousing to bring out a climax for another boy and I share with the immense
pleasure Connor's feeling from his climax; the pleasure that comes from
climaxing is huge. Connor does one more half hearted hump into me, with a
quiet sighing, "Ooohhh," and I assume he's finished. His arms remained
hugging me around the waist the whole time. He's basically just laying on
me moaning quietly, still pressing his groin against mine.

We stay like that for a minute, then Connor says, "Well, I guess I made
another fool of myself. I shoot off so fast when I'm doing anything with
you." He sounds embarrassed and the side of his face next to my chin feels
hot, so he's probably blushing, but man, I enjoyed that. I wish I could
have been there for him for more than basically a kiss and a hand job, but
I gotta start using some will power eventually, and this is a decent
start. Not totally an example of will power, but not bad... for me
anyhow. We back away from each other as we both feel our laps with our
fingers. The front of my jeans is almost as wet as his from Connor's lap
pressing against mine. He says, "My cum is running down my leg now," which
strikes me as funny. The way he said it, like... 'Not only the wet lap, but
my cum's running down my leg too!' At least that's the way it sounded, and
I chuckle, mumbling, "Aww, that's a shame," and he laughs then too, asking,
"What are we gonna do now? Everyone will see our wet crotches." I say,
"There's only one thing to do, we'll go back to the Jeep and get our
sweatshirts, they hang down below our wet crotches." He's in good spirits
after getting his rocks off, and he goes, "You're brilliant!" then, "That
felt so good, Dylan. I bet you could make me cum just talking to me." I go,
"That'd be a good trick! Let's walk around this way and see if it leads to
the street." It does, and we walk the three blocks back to the car, smoking
cigarettes. Connor's actually chatty as he describes his orgasm in detail,
which surprises the hell out of me. At our car I spot Robby's pickup parked
in the last block before the highway. He apparently arrived at the party
when Connor and I were having a little fun in the cupola and he's
undoubtedly looking for us.

Connor and I put on our sweatshirts, then I put the hood up on Connor's,
and look at him. Yep, cuter than it should be legal to be. Love boys in
hoodies! I mention to Connor that Robby's pickup is parked back a ways, and
he gets flustered, "I hope I haven't gotten you in trouble, Dylan. That's
the last thing I want to do." I go, "No worries, Connor. We're getting our
sweatshirts, that's all." Then I feel guilty lying so easily to Robby, but,
wait a second, I'm not lying, we are getting our sweatshirts. Now, if I can
sneak in that Connor wanted a kiss, I'd be telling him almost the whole
truth. Yes! That makes me feel better. It's almost like I'm being
completely truthful. Okay, that problem's solved. I say to Connor, in an
offhanded way, "No need to add anything to what I tell Robby. Okay, dude?"
He goes, "I won't say anything." Well, that's normal for Connor anyway so
we're good there. Robby's out front when we get back. "There you are!" He
says, "Where ya been?" I say, "Nowhere, just getting sweatshirts, it's
getting cool out here." He goes, "Yeah, it is. I didn't think to bring
one," and he rubs my hair, saying, "I can't get used to that haircut. I saw
you two walking up the sidewalk, but that haircut didn't register for a
second; I fuckin' didn't recognize you at first. Isn't that weird?" I say,
"Nothing about you is weird, Robby," and give him a kiss on the
lips. Connor looks down the street as if he's looking for someone, as I
kiss Robby. Then Robby says, "Whassup, Connor? Getting drunk yet?" Connor
grins, then says, "I guess, Robby," and we walk through the house to the
kitchen to use the keg that's there. Filling up a cup, Robby asks about the
party, and I tell him about the twins. He goes, "Oh man, I wish I'd seen
that scene! How was the dancing, Connor?" Connor goes, "Okay, I guess, Mary
was nice. She's a sophomore." Robby starts to say something, but somebody
hugs me from behind, startling everyone. It's Chubby of course. He goes,
"Come on you deadbeats, we're doing shooters of rum; they're horrible, but
it's fun. A couple of the older guys and girls light there shots on fire
before chugging them down." I go, "Fuck that! We can't do shooters because
Robby just got here and he needs a few beers before tackling something like
shots of rum." Chubby goes, "Okay, yeah, that makes sense." He gets Connor
around the neck then, saying, "You got no excuses, do ya dude? Come on, I
need at least one of my homies from Merrimack to represent our college with
me." Connor tries protesting, but Chubby's much too persuasive and Connor
obediently walks outside with Chubby's arm around his neck. Poor kid, he
doesn't have a chance when Chubby insists on something.

I'm sorry Connor had to be sacrificed, but Chubby will take good care of
him, and Connor needs a little walk on the wild side once in awhile anyway;
get him ready for the Army. He's with the right boy for that, fer
sure. Robby asks, "Is Connor gay?" I go, "Good question," which is a
convenient way of avoiding answering him. He goes, "He always seems to be
coming on to you; no it's not exactly coming on to you, it's more like he
idolizes you. Have you noticed?" I go, "A little, I guess." Then I figure I
can slip this in, I say, "It's funny you should asks if he gay because
tonight he asked if I'd kiss him. He says he's never kissed a boy before."
Well, except me, but that statement is mostly true. Robby opens his eyes
wide, saying, "Connor said that?" I go, "He said something like that.'
Robby's interested, "Well, did you? Did you kiss him?" I go, "Well, yeah,
wouldn't you? We found this hideaway spot, a cupola or something around the
side of the house and I kissed him in there." "Did he kiss back?" I shrug,
mumbling, "Oh yeah, it was a pretty good kiss, actually." Robby wants to
know, "What'd he say after the kiss?" I answer, with another shrug, "I
don't remember exactly, something about it was better than he thought it
would be, or something like that." Robby's drinking his beer, seemingly
more and more interested in this unexpected development, "Well I'll be
damned," he says, then laughs, adding, "Oh shit, another boy I've got to
keep my eye on when you're around." Then he gets his arm around my neck,
pulling me face to face, saying, "You might be more trouble than you're
worth, alley cat." I act like I'm hurt, "Don't call me that,
Robby. Connor's harmless, and a damn sweet kid too." Robby goes, "I know
that, I'm kidding you. Who wouldn't want to kiss you?" and he gives me a
big kiss. I'm smiling as I adjust my pecker, saying, "You can get me hard
just kissing me, Robby." He says, "Lets find that cupola and we'll test
your theory; actually, I need to do you real quick too, hee hee. Is it safe
back there?" I go, "I don't know if it's safe enough for that." He says,
"Let's take a chance, we've got Connor with us so we might not get a better
chance to do it tonight." I take a deep breath, amazed at how much I want
Robby's cock inside me. I was calm until Robby mentioned fucking me, and
now my dick is all aquiver... I think that's a word. "Okay, Robby, you're
the boss of me. If you want to do it in the cupola, then I guess I do too."
He says, "I'm a little nervous about it, to be honest, but the thought of
doing you there, in the open, has me all horned-up, dude. I'm excited!
Let's go. Bring the beers as our cover."

This is crazy, but it's the way lasting memories are made... spur of the
moment shit. When Robby and me are thirty years old, God forbid, Robby will
say, "Dylan, remember that night I fucked you at that party. We fucked
outside, twenty feet from fifty college kids... hahaha." Or something like
that. Of course if we get caught doing it, we'll probably want to forget
it, certainly by the time we're thirty. We go out the back door and there's
Travis with a large group of loud kids around a table. He yells, "Dylan!
Get your ass over here for a flaming shot." I say to Robby, "I'll do one to
be sociable, you can say you just got here and need a beer first." Robby
says, "Hell no, I'll do one too if you're going to." So we go over with
fake high spirits, me saying, "What's this nonsense about, Travis?" He
says, "Your brother and his friend from Merrimack are doing shots there at
the back table in the college competition." I mutter, "He's not my
brother," as a thought hits me, and I'm thinking, "Oh fuck, Chubby's
probably going to be throwing up tonight and hung over tomorrow, which
means I'll have to prepare the Sunday brunch myself while making up lies
why Chubby didn't help. And, horrors, I'll have to absorb all the mom's
attention alone. And, poor Connor can't say no to Chubby, so he'll probably
be fucked-up too before the night's over." Resigned that I can't do
anything about that situation, I say, "Okay, but I can only do one shot, or
I'll barf all over the table. That's a guarantee! Am I right, Robby?" He
goes, "Yeah, and he sprays his barfs, sometimes he does a tilt-a-whirl
barf, turning in a circle as the puke's coming out." The guys are frowning,
and one of the older girls gets up and takes a step back, saying, "Do a
shot cutie, I'd like to see that tilt-a-whirl thing, but from a distance."
I grin, saying, "That's a slight exaggeration," nodding my head in Robby's
direction. Ten shots glasses are poured by Travis, including one for
Robby. Travis says, "Ready?! On the count of three, all the way down." At
least they didn't light the rum on fire. At the count of "Three" we all
throw the rum in our mouths and swallow. It takes me three horrible
swallows to get the ounce of rum down my throat. Oh my God, the burn, then
the nauseous feeling as saliva invades my mouth and it appears that I
actually am going to puke, but my system rallies and the need to throw-up
fades. Tears run down my cheeks as I gag, everyone except Robby is laughing
at me and patting me on the back. When I can stop gagging and coughing, I
laugh a little with relief. Then look at how calm Robby is, and just know
he still has the rum in his mouth. I say to him, "Let get some water." Then
to the group, "Thanks, that was delightful, lets all meet here in ten years
and do it again," and everyone laughs, even though it wasn't very
funny. So, that went pretty good, mostly because they're all drunk to start
with.

Robby and I go back inside the kitchen where he spits the rum in the sink,
and chuckles. "I almost swallowed this shit trying not to laugh at
you. You're face was so red!" He looks really cute with that smile on his
face. I squeeze the back of his neck and run my hand up the hair on the
back of his head. Such soft hair; like I used to have. Chuckling with
Robby, I say, "You prick, I knew you didn't swallow it! And, I saved your
ass too." He goes, "How'd ya do that?" I go, "By suggesting we get some
water, of course." "Oh yeah, but ha ha, you were so funny." He goes, "Okay,
enough about that, I'm going to fill your ass up again. Come on, we'll go
out that side door off that room with the washing machine and dryer." I
ask, "We really going to do this outside with all those kids milling
around?" He says, "Get moving, I need me some Dylan ass." Gee, I like his
take-charge attitude here; it's hot! Robby's got a hold of my arm pulling
me out the door, chuckling again. Damn, this is cool, but oh so stupid too!
The door's locked and Robby needed to fiddle with the latch for a few
seconds, mumbling in frustration, but then the lock clicks, and out we go
into the night. The cupola is twenty feet away; only half of it is visible
in the moonlight, which is a good thing. We can stand in the back part and
maybe we won't get caught fucking in a outdoors cupola; I guess saying
'outdoors cupola' is redundant, it would have to be outdoors. My heart is
pounding; a little from the expectation of Robby fucking me and a little
because I'm nervous we'll be caught doing it. Robby keeps pulling my arm,
leading me to the cupola. "Is that it? We're heading in the right direct,
right, Dylan?" I whisper, "Yeah, but keep your voice down." He whispers
back, "Scaredy-cat." I whisper, "What's with all the cat references
tonight? Alley cat, scaredy cat..." No reply from Robby, just a nervous
sounding giggle. As soon as we're at the back of the cupola I pull my pants
down to my knees right away; I don't want Robby to do it because he might
feel the cum wetness on the front of my jeans. He says, "Aww, you're
anxious, aren't you?" I mutter, "No, I just want us to hurry." He does his
nervous giggle again, like we're two little kids sneaking down to the
Christmas tree before our parents get up. Robby says, "I'm not hurrying, I
need to fuck my boyfriend properly". That comment sounds a little like one
Willie might make and it has me groping my cock. Robby says, " No, Dylan!
You know I like to fuck your spunk out of you; put your hands at your
side." I like that too, and do what he says. He wraps his arms around my
belly and pulls my back against him. Robby has his pants down to his knees
too; I feel them at the back of my legs, and I feel his bare cock against
my buttocks. He squirms a little to get his soft cock in between my ass
cheeks, asking, "Feel good, Dylan?" I say, "Yes, but keep your voice down,
Robby." He does the giggling thing again, and then moves his hips making
his cock slide up and down in my crack. It firms up quickly. I exhale a
long breath, thinking that the exhale sounded too loud coming out of my
mouth.

In the background the music and loud voices are very clear and seem very
near, not more than twenty feet away, just around the corner of the
house. Except for that, it's very isolated here. There aren't any houses
close by which is probably why the cops haven't broken this party up
yet. As Robby's cock becomes a hard boner, my cock firms up too, feeling
very nice. The sexiness of Robby's body against my back, and his hard cock
against my ass makes me temporarily forget the craziness of doing this
here. I take another deep breath, letting it out slowly and quietly, as I
finally feel relaxed in Robby's arms. As usual I concentrate on the smell
of him and the feel of him and my cock gets harder. Soon my dick is hard
enough to make the transition from being sideways to pointing up at my
chin; oh God, this feels so good! Still holding my arms against my sides
with his arms around my belly button, he whispers, "Here we go, Dylan," and
he moves his hips back. I feel the head of his boner, which he had pointing
down, move up my right buttocks, and he pokes the head but misses my
asshole. "Damnit," he mutters, and takes his right arm from around me to
line up his boner. "There we go," he whispers, as his arm comes back around
me and I wait impatiently for penetration. He's pressing my anus with the
head of his fat cock, just parting the lips there. I wait a few seconds,
licking my other lips, then whisper in kind of a whine, "Come on, Robby..."
He giggles again, quietly saying, his lips touching my ear, "I love that
you want it so badly, Dylan. I love that," and he pushes in, just the head
of his boner. I take another big inhale as my boner gets harder
yet. "Ohhh," is what comes out of me, I couldn't help it. This feels
ridiculously good. 'Do I really need it so badly?' I ask myself, in my
mind. The answer I get back is, yes you do. It's because Willie broke me
in, or something, I always liked sex before, but now, after Willie
dominated me and fucked me so often in such a short period of time, I think
I need it too. Why do I over-analyze everything? 'Just enjoy yourself',
that's what I tell myself now... good advise. Robby bites my ear, then
sucks on my earlobe and earring. I leans my head against his face and he
sticks his tongue in my ear filling my ear with saliva as he's pushing his
cock up my ass, filling me up back there too. It doesn't hurt at all; my
rectum has been properly conditioned by the last ten days of frequent
fucking. When he withdraws and then drives his cock back up my ass, I moan
and try arching my back and pushing my ass back at his boner, but he's
holding me too tightly; my back only arches a little bit, but I can still
push my ass at him. He moves his tongue from my ear and takes a few quick
breaths, then asks, "Feeling good for you, Dylan?" I gasp, nodding my head
slightly, mumbling, "The best, Robby; it feels the best," and he begins
fucking me fast, a dozen awesome thrusts inside me, then stops as precum
drools down my boner to wet the front of my nuts.

Robby's breathing hard for a second, then we hear a roar from the
backyard. Somebody doing shots probably hurled. Robby does his nervous
giggle, followed by, "I'm getting nervous hearing all those voices,
Dylan. It sounds like they're right next to us. I'm going to do my famous
rabbit fuck to get us both off so we can get the hell out of here." He
means get the hell out of the cupola, I guess; or maybe this
situation. We're both too far gone to stop now. Holding me even tighter he
begins fucking me as fast as I've ever been fucked, bringing to mind Dodger
doing me like this when he interrupted his haircut to fuck me. Robby
obviously does Dodger like this when they don't have much time, and that's
where Dodger got the idea. Whatever, the faster Robby drives his cock up my
ass the harder my boner gets until it almost aches with tightness and
begins to drop down to point straight out from my body. I'm making little
"Un" noises with each fast hump and my balls quickly move heavily to the
top of my scrotum. When I feel Robby's first shot of cum inside me, he
grunts and moans quietly, and I fire off a long stream of cum and writhe in
his arms, my hips thrusting out to fire off fast moving spurts of creamy
teen spunk that splats on the floor, spurt by spurt. I want to scream with
the awesome sensations on my cock and in my ass, but somehow change a
scream of pleasure to whimpering sounds that have Robby going, "Shh, shh,
Dylan," in my ear again. It's the same ear he filled with his spit so his
words sound like they're an echo from some place else. My breathing is fast
and my heart's beating faster. My shoulders shake and chills run around my
body as the waves of climax sensations abate and I can see clearly
again. Robby's out of breath when he, in a hushed voice, says, "Oh God,
Dylan, that was fantastic!" Then he pulls out, saying, "Let's get out of
here," as cum drools from my ass to run down the back of my legs. I feel
dizzy, but wonderful at the same time. Sort of begging, I whisper, "Please,
Robby, put it back in me for just another minute." He sounds exasperated,
mumbling, "Oh, okay, but just a minute," and then slides his still hard
cock back up my ass as I go, "Ahhhh, yeah." Robby humps my ass a few time,
again doing his nervous giggle, muttering, "If you get us caught..." and
then we hear two voices right in front of the cupola, not eight feet away
from us.

to be continued....  Donny Mumford   thinat20@yahoo.com

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