Date: Mon, 6 Aug 2012 05:17:52 -0700 (PDT)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR Chapter 37 by Donny Mumford

			   DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR

			       Chapter 37

			     by Donny Mumford

Thursday morning was no different than the last couple of mornings.  Robby
grunting with pain when I help him get out of bed, and then more grunts and
quiet "Ow's" as we go through morning necessities in the bathroom. I
implore him to ask for a better pain-killer than Motrin, and Robby says,
reluctantly, he'll ask about that after school today. I've switched Stop &
Shop shifts with Shaun Sullivan so I'll be working his shift after classes
again today, instead of my normal Friday shift. This will enable me to
drive home after Friday's late class, using Robby's pickup. Ryan will
chauffeur Robby around because Chubby needs the Jeep to get to and from
work at Stop & Shop on Saturday. How Chubby and I have never have been able
to get on the same shift at Stop & Shop is a cruel twist of fate, but it is
what it is. Robby hasn't called Dodger yet about his rather bizarre
solution to our dilemma; the dilemma of how I can have sex without hurting
Robby's shoulder. He's going to have Dodger fill-in for him and fuck my
brains out; that's apparently the best solution Robby can come up
with. Even though I feel uncomfortable with that, when I muster all my
extraordinary will power, I find I still can't turn-down the offer.  So
there's that little item staring me in the face for tomorrow night. Not
necessarily a bad thing... just saying.

Nothing noteworthy happens during Thursday as we go through our college
day, except I find myself complaining about taking the notes and so Robby
wants to try doing in for the last course of the day. He has trouble
holding his note paper in place with only one hand available to do that and
also write on the paper at the same time, so I take over again after
break. It's a two hour lab, so we get a ten minute break in-between each
hour session. I survive that somehow and, after dropping Robby off at
baseball practice, I even managed to get to work on time. Nothing
noteworthy at work either, except Matthew and I have a nice chat; we're
like buddies now. He tells me a little about his girlfriend, qualifying it
with, "She's only the second girlfriend I've ever had, so it's not always
smooth-sailing. I'm not much good at the boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic to be
honest about it. Hangin' with my buds is more fun, but I hope that
statement doesn't get you thinking, 'Hey, this dude must be gay,' because I
swear I'm not... hahaha." I feel the need to say, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear
that, Matthew, 'cause I am. Not that I thought you were. Hope we can still
be friends." He's like, "You're gay? Really?" I go, "Yep, that's me. I only
mention that minor fact to the guys I think are cool enough to deal with it
though, so I'd appreciate if you'd use discretion with that information."
He's like, "I'm down with that, Dylan. And, um, of course we can still be
friends, why wouldn't we be?" It went like that. But, him saying he's not
gay doesn't mean he's not, if ya know what I mean. It just means maybe he's
not. And, I especially liked his comment about preferring to hang with his
buds rather than hangin' with his girlfriend. Also, he brought up the 'gay'
word, not me. I just used the opening to mention my status 'cause I always
feel good about myself when I do that. Man up, and all that, "be proud of
who you are," that sort off ra-ra stuff.

After work I spend an hour on college materials, catching-up on everything;
plus, rewriting some notes more legibly so they'll be helpful to Robby, I
gotta admit Robby's right when he says taking notes helps you remember the
material 'cause I've seldom felt more on top of the stuff covered in recent
classes. Robby shows-up about five-thirty looking worse than ever. Ryan
gave him a ride after practice. First thing Robby says to me is, "I'm so
stupid, Dylan. I tried to help out by shagging flies in the outfield during
batting practice. That was dumb right there, but then my instincts took
over my brain when a ball's hit over my head and I jumped for it,
stretching as much as I could and my bad shoulder slipped in it's socket,
but didn't pop-out. I almost passed-out with the pain though, so now it's
worse than it was before." I go, "Jesus, Robby!" Then soften my voice,
adding, "I'm really sorry. What can I do to help?" He takes a plastic
bottle from his sweatpants pocket and hands it to me, saying, "The team
doctor was on campus today watching a little of the practice and talking
with the trainer. He gave me these Vicodin tablets. They're 500 mg each and
he says to take one as needed, but under no circumstances am I to take more
that five in any twenty-four hour period. They cause liver damage if a
person takes 4000mg a day; that's eight tablets, but I'm not taking more
than four, no matter how bad the pain. You know, to be safe." I go, "You're
smart. How much did that jump set you back in your recovery?" He shakes his
head, saying, "Definitely some, but the doctor said it's probably not a
significant set-back. Anyway, it got me these stronger pain pills, so
that's good, don'cha think?" I go, "Yeah, I been nagging you to ask for
something stronger ever since it happened. Are they doing you any good?" He
goes, "Not yet, but I only took one a half hour ago."

We go out on the balcony for a cigarette and sneak-in a few wet kisses; no
one can see us up here unless they're using binoculars from the building on
the other side of the parking lot. Around six o'cock Chubby joins us for
dinner, and he even prepares it. Homemade mac and cheese, and let me tell
ya, it's way better than the frozen kind, or the kind you get in a box. I
fix a salad and we have crusty bread and butter too, and home made iced tea
with real lemon. Nice! Robby's pain is manageable after a while, so that's
good, but neither of us mentions doing anything sexy; I'm sure Robby's
relieved about that. I help him with his shower and so forth, then take one
myself, jerking off again, taking me back to my middle school days. The
crazy solution of substituting Dodger for Robby sounds better and better to
me with each passing minute. It's a form of torture to be as horny as I am
all the time, and with no relief in sight. Once again I'm thinking, 'That
damn Willie took it too far with his plan, or whatever it was'. And his
dominant sex is additive too; to me at least. I'm anxious about the 'Dodger
plan', but don't want to ask Robby what Dodger said when he heard about it
because I might appear too eager. I'm trying to be blasé about it. Then,
I almost let out a groan of disappointment when, just before bed, Robby
goes, "Dammit! I never called Dodger. I was gonna do it during down-time at
practice and then hurt my shoulder again. Fuck!" I mutter, "Oh, call him
tomorrow, or something," blasé like. Robby says, "Well there's no
question he'll be all over the idea, but still I gotta call him." I go, "Uh
huh," thinking 'Well call him, fer chrissakes!' but don't say it out
loud. Robby's muttering to himself, "Is it too late to call, I wonder?" I
go, staying cool, "Um, it's quarter to eleven, what time does the little
tyke go beddie-bye?" Robby grunts out a chuckle, muttering, "The little
tyke is taller than you; hell, he's a half-inch taller than me, which
pisses me off, but I don't think I've totally stopped growing yet." Those
two are so competitive, it gives me a headache that everything needs to be
a competition between them... even who's the tallest.

Robby finally does call and of course Dodger's still up. I never went to
bed by eleven o'clock when I was a junior in high school. He just turned
eighteen and at that age there's texts to send to buds, and the internet to
surf, and video games to play; many things to do instead of going to
bed. Maybe I'd be in my room by eleven, but in bed... not likely. On his
cell phone, Robby says, "Hi yourself, ya hot shit. There's something I
wanna propose to you, it's a scenario you're gonna love, but hold on a
second." He's sitting on the edge of the bed holding his cell phone to his
chest, "Um, Dylan?" I go, "Yeah?" "Ah, no offense, but could I have a
little privacy explaining this rather awkward situation to Dodger?" I go,
"Oh, yeah, sure... I'll, um, get something to drink in the kitchen." I'm in
my boxers, but Chubby's in the shower so I don't throw on my flimsy
bathrobe, not that Chubby hasn't seen me in boxer shorts a million times. I
grab a bottle of orange juice and drink from the bottle, thinking, 'I hope
everyone doesn't do this rude thing,' then chuckle to myself at how
ludicrous and selfish that thought was. It's a full five or six minutes
before Robby calls for me, but I'm strangely not offended that he didn't
want to discuss it in front of me. Those two brothers have an unusual
relationship... even a secret one, for all I know. I didn't find out Robby
was screwing his brother until almost two years after meeting them. Robby
says, "All clear, Dylan," I trot back in, jokingly saying, "Let me down
easy if Dodger rejected me." He's laughing to himself before I even said
that, so I guess Dodger said something outrageous at the end of their
conversation, which he does routinely. Robby goes, "Rejected you? Fat
chance of that. He just said he was afraid you wouldn't want to return to
me after he's done doing your ass up the right way; he doesn't want me to
be disappointed... haha." "Very modest of him," I mutter. Robby goes,
"Unfortunately he's taking a girl to a school play tomorrow night and he
can't get out of that. He says it's excellent cover taking a girl out, and
he's only doing it to fool everyone." I go, "Clever of him, I should have
thought of that when I was a junior." Robby's like, "Yeah, me too, but
screw it now. Anyway, he'll call you Saturday morning and set something up
that's convenient for you, alright?" I ask, "Well, did he seem receptive to
the idea? I don't want a pity fuck from him or anybody else!" Robby's
indignant, "Pity fuck? Are you kidding; he's ecstatic! You know what he
thinks of you; sometimes I think he's more enamored of you than me... and
that hurts." When Robby said, 'and that hurts' he said it as a joke, 'cause
he knows better. Robby's Dodger's hero, like Dodger's Vinnie's hero. I'm
nobody's hero. I say, "Well, it's quite a different scenario, Robby, I'll
say that for your idea, but thanks for coming-up with it. Hell, it'll be
fun telling you about it afterwards." He goes, "Double fun for me because
you'll tell me about it and then I'll hear Dodger's version; it'll be so
different from your's it'll sound like a totally different experiences." I
chuckle at that because it's so true, then he adds, "Oh, he said to tell ya
that his new thing is he smokes when he's having sex, so watch for that." I
go, "Oh brother!" Dodger smoked the last time he "filled-in" for his
brother sexually, but that time was unauthorized. I help Robby get in a
comfortable position in bed, then I come around the other side to gently
slide on the mattress so we can make-out without either of us moving too
much, which is far from ideal. It gives me a boner at least, so I have that
to take to my sleeping bag with me. It helps a little, but not much.

Friday morning Robby's really hurting after eight hours without a Vicodin,
so I get one for him before he even gets out of bed. He can lay there
another half hour because our first class isn't until eleven o'clock. Two
classes on Fridays, one in the morning and one in the afternoon; then it's
a weekend off. We make it through the morning doing all the things that are
easy to do if Robby wasn't hurt, but are a pain in the ass to do because he
is hurt, and we get to Merrimack in time to easily make our class before
the bell. It's a normal class and after suffering through it, with me
taking notes again, Robby says, "I gotta go to the manager's office and
fill-out some forms about my injury; a little 'protect their asses' on
Merrimack''s part... you know how that goes." I say, "Okay, I'll be in the
quad soaking up this nice sunshine. I'll meet you there, then treat you to
lunch at Fuddruckers." He goes, "Deal!" and heads across campus to take
care of business. At the quad I spot Travis Hunter, who threw that party
the last Saturday of spring break. His roommate, Harry Black is with him. I
go, "Travis, awesome party, dude!" Then, "Yo, Harry, whassup? Dude, you're
sober. What's with that?" I think it's the first time I've seen him in a
sober condition. He doesn't know me very well, we've only met a few times
and he's been in a booze haze each time so maybe he doesn't remember. He
goes, "Robby, right?" I go, "No, that's my roommate, I'm Dylan," and we
bump fist with him muttering, "Oh yeah, I remember now. You were at Travis'
party, dude? I didn't see ya there." I go, "You were taking a nap in the
power room, I believe," and he starts this bizarre way of laughing with his
mouth closed. He punches Travis on the arm, saying, "Oh yeah, I was
pinching girl's ass when they sat on the hopper. They thought I was
passed-out, ya know?" Travis deadpans, "Yeah, we know. My brother yelled at
me for ten minutes 'cause one of the girls was his main squeeze." Harry's
spraying saliva now as he does his odd laugh through closed lips, he's gets
himself in hysterics recalling this episode, one of thousands like it in
his memory banks no doubt." Travis just looks at me, like, "See what I
gotta put-up with?" I nod, grinning, because as long as he's not your
roommate, Harry's kinda funny in an off beat way; you know, the way someone
splitting the back of their pants is funny. Travis tells me the gory
details of the fallout from his parents. He's grounded and the parents
swear they're never going on a trip again until both boys move out of the
house. I go, "Ah, that's a shame," not really caring about it all that
much. Then Scott Tinsdale and his shadow, Ears Henderson, wonder down and
the bullshitting begins. I only believe a tiny bit of what my fellow
college buds say when the topic is either drinking exploits, or matters of
sexual conquest and/or near conquests, but that's not to say it's not funny
listening to them lie. I tell a few lies myself, especially about the
imaginary twins that Willie and I fucked in Key West. That might have
happened if Willie ran into gay twin brothers perhaps, which is a much more
likely scenario than us two fucking twin girls, although both are a million
to one shot at best. But the guys wanted the details of my twins fucking,
so I make-up some story, keeping it sketchy because, as I reminded them,
"Kissing and telling is crude." But the main reason I kept it sketchy is
because I don't know anything about screwing girls, much less twins.

Robby shows up looking okay, he mumbles to me he'd taken a Vicovin in the
managers office and the pain is just a dull ache again. The guys consider
Robby sort of a cult hero now, a freshman second-baseman who starts a
college game and dislocates his shoulder sliding into third base for a
triple. "Beautiful slide," Ears says, "I was at the game, dude, I saw your
fuckin' arm at that weird angle and almost tossed my cookies! You're one
tough bastard to be out there shagging flies after what you went through,"
Robby sort of eats it up, then all six of us go to Fuddruckers for lunch
making enough noise with loud talking and laugher to annoy most of the
other patrons, not that that concerns us a whole lot. Harry uses a fake ID
card to buy two bottles of beer while everyone else chooses soft
drinks. It's fun being college students, especially because we all assume
everyone of the grumpy business men wishes they were one of us too. That's
just the way we roll.  Coming out of the restaurant, Scott gets me alone,
and asks, "Hey, Dylan dude, my offer still stands to blow you. Ears thinks
I'm nuts, but it interest me, ya know? How do I know if I like something if
I never try it? Being bisexual would be cool, dude. Ya wanna try it with
me?" Surprisingly, I do not. Not with Scott because it would be like
amateur hour. Something amateurish with a beginner like Connor is okay
because I like him so much, and he's so attractive too; neither of these
things apply where Scott's concerned. I say, "Reluctantly I must again turn
you down, Scott. But, dude, I'm flattered you think I'm hot enough to try
gay sex with you. And I'm not insulted at all, like, you know, maybe
ninety-nine guys out of a hundred would be, not at all," implying, of
course, that it is insulting. He goes, "Insulted? I didn't mean that, Dylan
dude, not at all." I go, "I'm jobbing' you, Scott." He goes, "I knew
that...." A little later Robby asks, "What was Scott whispering to you?" I
go, "Ah, it's nothing, Robby. He's got this idea he wishes he was bisexual
and he wants to know my opinion about that." Robby's like, "Why you?" I go,
"Ya got me, Robby. I don't know." We head to our last class with Robby
saying, "Dammit, Dylan, I'm going to miss you even though I'm unable to,
you know, do it with you. I feel awful about that, and I guess I'm a little
jealous of Dodger now too. I'll be thinking about you two doing it all
weekend." I go, "Think about the baseball team, Robby. This is a momentary
break in the hot action between you and me. We'll be back in the saddle
very soon, I just know it." He goes, "Me too, I know it too, and I can't
wait. I'm storing up some spunk for you." I hope he keeps storing it and
doesn't start feeling better on the trip and wants a little
action. Especially since he just happens to be sharing a room with that
dirt-bag, Wilcocks! I don't know that for a fact, but come on!

The last class drags-on for approximately two-and-a-half days, and then
it's over; quiz on Monday... who cares? That's my attitude. I've had enough
college for my Freshman year. I need a summer vacation working with Robby,
oops, I mean working for Robby...haha. It'll be fun. Then a name pops into
my head I haven't thought of for eight or nine months: Chad Bundy. He's
another snake in the grass like that slithering, carnivorous reptile, Ryan
Wilcocks. Sneaking around sniffing at my innocent boyfriend. Well, I'm not
all that sure about the innocent part, but I liked the sound of the rest of
it. Cory was Robby's boyfriend-on-the-side the last time I worked for The
Dickers Design and Landscaping Co. Inc.  Hell, I think that's the name of
their company, it's been awhile now. Anyway, Robby sweeps that thought from
my brain by suggesting we drive to the ice skating rink and park in the
back for a farewell make-out. I like this idea 'cause nobody is in the ice
skating/hockey area during the spring. I drive us over there and we have as
good a make-out as is possible without moving our bodies or hugging, we do
our best and it's good enough to spring two boner, one for each of us. I
still have mine when I drop Robby off at baseball practice with quiet, "I
love you's"... one of those sentiments for each of us. Driving back to the
apartment I think of Robby, hoping his shoulder gets better, or at least
improves by Monday. I miss our sex together something terrible. What if I
didn't miss it? Then I'd have a problem of major proportion, but I know I
love him. He's my choice forever, and I say that even though I'm looking
very much forward to my sexy encounter with his brother on Saturday. I
collect a few things, text my mom that I'm coming home and find she hasn't
left for the restaurant yet. She texts right back asking me to dinner
during her break. I've come up with another idea for tonight though, so I
tell a little white lie about how I made plans with a couple of my old
friends from high school. She texts back, "Have fun, sweetheart. I'll see
ya Sat. Love ya, Mom". Okay, so that's done. I fill the pick-up with gas,
gasping at the seventy-eight dollars showing on the gas pump when the
'ding' sounds indicating the pick-up's gas tank is full. Wow! That puts a
dent in the five twenties I'm taking home with me, a big dent! Because this
is what I've dubbed the "crazy idea weekend", I've come up with another
crazy idea. I'm contemplating giving Ray Ellis a call. I wasn't interested
in his proposal that day at the mall, but it's a whole different set of
circumstances I'm dealing with now. Robby didn't say I shouldn't mess
around except for Dodger, so I take that as unspoken permission. After all,
it was his idea of an open relationship, okay he said partially open
relationship. I mean, I was gonna bring up the topic, but he beat me to
it. I assume he did because of that carnivorous creature, Wilcocks. So,
I'll run with that... but just until Robby's good to go again. I really
don't think he'd be that upset considering it's Ray Ellis, who's no
competition for Robby. Still, why bother Robby with it at all, ya know?
I'll be considerate and not mention it. Of course there might be nothing to
mention if Ray's unavailable tonight.

I think sexy thoughts during the ride home, listening to "The Killers" on
the pickup's CD player. Awesome rock 'n roll group! When I'm in the condo I
marvel that I've only been away from home a week, but how nice it still is
to be in my own bedroom. The thought of sleeping in my bed, and bot that
musty sleeping bag is inviting. Checking my waterproof watch, compliments
of Willie, I see it's four-thirty. Ray's home from school by now so why
wait, I'll call him now before I come to my senses and change my mind. I
have the phone number because of Ray's brother, Elliot, who I became
friends with at Stop & Shop a couple of years ago. It's only about a three
to one shot Ray will answer; it'll be either Elliot, or his mother, or
Ray. And it's Ray. Hmmm, maybe I'm started a new lucky streak. I sure
didn't have one going all week. Ray says, "I see from the caller ID it's
you, Dylan. I'm pissed at you. You took almost a whole week to
call. Surprised me actually considering how eager you were to get together
with me at the mall. What's up?" After covering my mouth, snickering at his
audacity, I clear my throat, but before I can say anything, he goes, "Okay,
you're nervous, right? Sorry I yelled at you. Lets start over... it's your
turn to say something." Haha, Ray always thinks he right about everything,
as well as thinking he in charge of every situation, which is kinda
funny. I hadn't remembered that about him. Well, it's not that he acts as
if he's in-charge as much as he just assumes things; yeah, that's more
accurate. I go, "I'm not in the least nervous, Ray, but that's neither here
nor there." Ray interrupts again, "What do ya mean by that?" Okay, that's
another thing I forgot; Ray's not the sharpest knife in the drawer when it
comes to common sense stuff. I've only messed around with him twice, and
the last time was over a year ago, or something like that, so I've
forgotten a few things about him. Ray and me don't really have a history,
and our couple of times together are only memorable to me in a humorous
way, although he is a sexy bastard. I go, "Ah, I didn't mean anything by
that, Ray. I'm calling because you said to call; what'd ya have in mind?"
He goes, "It's gotta be tonight, I'm busy tomorrow night, got a blind
date... or Sunday night might work." I say, "Tonight's good, Ray, I'll be
back at college Sunday night." He says, "Oh that's right, you go to
Merrimack. You got the idea to go there from Elliot, didn't ya?" I go,
"Yeah, as a matter of fact I...." Ray, interrupts again, he's always sure
that whatever he has to say is more important than what anybody else has to
say, "Hey, Dylan! I just remembered something. You cut hair, right... or is
that your brother?" I go, "I don't have a brother, but yeah I give my
friends haircuts. Do you need a haircut?" He goes, "Desperately! I've got
that blind date tomorrow night and I gotta look cool.  Usually Elliot's
boyfriend cuts my hair, but that fuckin' community college stuff keeps him
busy and he won't be back this weekend anyway, Elliot either, so you're my
man because I don't have enough coin to get a haircut and go on a blind
date too." I start to tell him something, but he interrupts again. He goes,
"The haircut is what you're gonna do for me, Dylan, and what I'm gonna do
for you is let you suck my big dick." Before I can respond, he goes, "My
mom just came in, I gotta ask her something," and he drops his cell phone
on a table, or some hard surface, "Bang!" rings in my ear.

I'm wondering if this is worth the trouble, and then think, "What the fuck;
I got a free weekend, go for it! Willie seems to have lost interest in me,
so I need to see what else I got going for me now that I can't depend on
Robby or Willie to come through for me, so ta speak. Ha ha! I know I'm
being an jackass, but I feel loose and ready to have a good time, even if
it's a bit weird. Plus, I somehow caught some of Chubby's haircut fetish;
certainly not enough to spring a boner like he does, but I really enjoy
fuckin' around with another boy's hair, cutting it and combing it, so I'm
glad Ray needs a haircut. Except there's a problem with that, my barber
equipment's at Merrimack. Hey, maybe I'll advertise at Merrimack next
year... "Free haircuts, call this cell number." Hmmm, no I won't do that
because I only want to cut certain boy's hair, not every toad who wants a
free haircut; that would take all the fun out of it. Then Ray's back on the
phone. "Lucky you, Dylan! I got my mom's car for tonight. She can't say
'No' to her favorite son." I go, "What about tonight?" He says, "I already
told ya, you give me a haircut and maybe I fuck ya if you suck me off real
good, like my girlfriend does." I give a phony, "Wow!" Then add, "I thought
you just said you're taking this girl out for the first time?" He mumbles,
"I meant my previous girlfriend." Then I ask, "What makes you think I'll
suck your big dick, Ray?" He's indignant, "Because you did it before, and
because if you do it good I'll throw-in a good fuckin' of your ass." I
chuckle, then try sounding insulted, "Ray, that's a pretty big assumption
on your part; insinuating I want a hard fuckin' on my ass, I mean. Whaddaya
think, I'm gay or something?" He's using his calming voice, "Now don't get
offended, but I happen to know you're bi. Elliot's told me you're hot with
the chicks, and hell I am too, dude. I'm also desperately trying to
discover if I'm bi, like you. I know you're bi for the simple reason you
sucked my cock and begged me to fuck you, not once, but twice. It's as
simple a deduction as adding one and one and two, dude. Not rocket
science. Don't make life more complicated than it needs to be... that's how
I roll." I think I'm gonna stop saying that 'roll' thing. It's gotten so
everybody says it; it's gotten to be like "it is what it is". I go, "Ray,
it's not 'one and one and two'... it's one and one is two." He's mystified,
"What the hell....?" And I go on, "Plus, I don't recall the begging part of
your last statement there. I think that's, um, how should I put
it... that's maybe a figment of your active imagination." He goes, "What
the fuck ya talking about now? I'm a junior in high school, don't be laying
that college physiology shit on me, okay? Keep it simple! Um, I mean, no
offense intended, but could ya bring it on down to my level, brainiac." I'm
like, "Duly noted, Ray, and..." again he interrupts, "There ya go again
with the college shit... duly noted, what the fuck does that mean? Lets
talk in plain English." I'm having a good time, laughing now. He just
strikes me as so oddly funny, he's not an idiot, he gets good grades, he's
just uncomfortable with anything he's not totally familiar with. I think
he's actively gay 'cause Elliot hinted it one time when he had too much to
drink at a Saturday afternoon beer party. I'm not saying Ray's sexually
active with Elliot, although he did try to talk Elliot into it a couple of
years ago. Okay, Ray makes me laugh, but enough already, so I go, "Let's
cut to the chase, Ray. I'd be good with the haircut except my barber tools
are at my apartment at college. Sorry 'bout that, and..." He cuts in, "No
problem, Dylan, I have a pair of professional barber shears that I, ah,
borrowed from Ray Reeves one time, so I'll bring them with me. I don't want
a clipper cut anyway; that's so last year, ya know?" I go, "No. I don't
know, but okay, we'll do the haircut and see what happens. No one is here
at my house except little ole me, so what time you coming over?" He goes,
"We eat dinner at six o'clock on the dot, so I'll be over around
quarter-to-seven. Don't get overly excited though." I roll my eyes,
mumbling, "I'll try not to, see you then," and he goes, "Later, dude!" We
hang up; well, actually we just click the 'end' button. I spend a few
minutes trying to sort-out how I feel about this: Ray has great hair, so
that part is good, and I would like to feel a dick up my ass, hmmmm? Then I
chuckle and remind myself, 'Try to have some fun, Dylan! You're on your own
this weekend, and that don't happen too often.'

Back in Robby's pickup, which I'm familiar with driving by now, I go to
Sal's deli and get an Italian sub with hot cherry peppers for my dinner and
take it back to eat it at my condo's kitchen bar, which isn't unlike the
one in our Merrimack college apartment. I'm feeling horny, but I have a
feeling that's gonna be taken care of before Sunday gets here, one way or
another. I'm barely done the sub sandwich when the doorbell chimes. It's
Ray. I go, "It's six-thirty," and he says, "I ate fast dude... knew you'd
be anxious." He's the anxious one. Ray doesn't look anything like his
brother. Elliot's thin, and a little feminine, but far from a swisher; he's
closer to pretty than cute actually. Ray's all boy with similar facial
features to his brother's, only Ray's got a swarthy complexion where
Elliot's pale with red hair. Ray's hair and eyes are dark; both brothers
are good looking, but where Elliot's narrow and thin, Ray's got broad
shoulders and is more muscular. Nice body on Ray where Elliot's frail, with
thin wrists... that sort of thing. It's almost impossible to imagine the
same two people produced these brothers. I gotta consider the possibility
that Mrs. Reeves might have wandered off the ranch about eighteen years ago
for a fling. I say that because Mr. Reeves has red hair and is thin as a
rail, so that explains Elliot, but not Ray. None of my business though. I
say, "You're looking good, Ray," he says, "Same to you college boy, wicked
cool haircut you're rocking' there too. And I say that even though I dissed
clipper cuts a little while ago" That last part was said with a cute-boy
grin on his face. A good example of what I'm always talking about. Ray's
got a really cute face when he grins. Ray's the fast maturing type, meaning
he already has whiskers on his top lip and under his chin, but the
considerate lad has shaved recently... for me? Inside I say, "Yeah Ray,
thanks. I got this haircut in Florida over spring break." He goes, "That's
a type of clipper cut I hadn't considered, but it's cool." I go, "Yeah, I
guess it is. Okay, for your haircut we'll go down to the finished
basement. Let me see the scissors." He takes them out of his pocket, so I
ask," You drove over here with these sharp scissor's in your pocket?" He
goes, "Yeah, heh heh, but I didn't run with them... you should never run
with scissors." I go, "Yeah, I think I've heard that before, come on
downstairs." Downstairs he goes, "Cool basement, our's is cement and
cinderblocks." I go, "Uh huh, sit on that stool, Ray. Ya want a cape over
you to keep the hairs off your shirt?" He goes, "Of course I do, whaddaya
think?" I have the plastic cape here because none of my friends at college
wants anything to do with it. I take it out of the closet and wrap it
around Ray and he shouts, "What the fuck is this? Don't ya got a cloth
one?" I say, "I told ya, all my barber stuff's at college."  He's like,
"Well I'm not wearing that, I'll take my shirt off... no offense intended."
I go, "Suit yourself," smirking to myself because that's what I was hoping
for. Ray pulls his long-sleeved t-shirt over his head and his boyish BO
becomes immediately apparent. Not real bad, it kind of goes with the rest
of Ray, and as I recall it's more or less the same as last time, which is
another thing I'd forgotten about until now. He must have got a whiff of it
himself because he says, "Didn't want to shower until after my haircut, but
I did a quick wash of my hair 'cause I'm no slob." I say, "No, certainly
not, Ray," and I run my comb threw his long hair. On top it's maybe six
inches long and it covers most of his ears on the sides and his collar, if
he had a collar, in the back. "Wow, Ray, when'd ya get your last haircut?"
He goes, "About two months ago, but I was rocking' a longer hair style for
awhile now, but it's time for a change. Here, I got a picture of a dude
with the haircut I want," and he pulls something from his pocket. He
unfolds it to show me. It's a page he ripped out of a magazine. "I saw this
in Sports Illustrated," he mutters, handing the page to me. It's a photo of
a young guy, kinda hot looking, with dark hair like Ray's, cut in a longer
version of the haircut I just gave Connor a few days ago. I mumble, "No
problem, Ray, this won't be hard to duplicate, but it's a hell of a lot
shorter hair style than you might think." He goes, "Whatever, I think I'll
look as hot as that guy if I get my hair cut like him." I ask, "So, ya
think this guy's hot, huh?" Ray's indignant again, "Not him, I didn't mean
him, I meant his hair style."

I let it slide, but this page he handed me didn't come from Sports
Illustrated. Printed in small letters right across the top of the page is,
"Instinct Magazine.... the number one gay magazine in America". Ha! I don't
want to embarrass him though, so I hand the page back to him, trying out
the scissors, saying, "These are awesome barber's scissors. Any chance I
can keep 'em?" He goes, "That would be a big fat, NO!" I chuckle, then comb
up a big pile of Ray's bangs and close the scissors right on top of the
comb. The blades of the scissors slide through his hair like a hot knife
through butter, "Crunch!" and a big pile of four inch long dark brown hair
piles in Ray's lap. "Holy shit!" he exclaims. Combing up another pile on
top of his head, I again close the scissors and another pile joins it's
fallen comrades. He picks up a fistful of his hair and drops it on the
floor. This goes on for ten minutes. He's got a great head of hair, not
course, but it's thick. It's fun to cut it all down to two inches and then
I begin shaping it, wishing it would give me a boner, like Dodger
gets. Unfortunately it doesn't affect me that way; my philosophy is, the
more ways you can get a boner the better. No boner, but it's fun having a
young stub just sitting there for me while I comb and cut his hair. I say,
"This is looking good, Ray, but I'm wondering how you knew you could trust
me with this great head of hair ya got here." He says, "I've seen the guys
you hangout with, and they have professional looking haircuts from you, so
I never had a doubt you'd do good." "Humph," I go, then "Thanks for the
vote of confidence." He says, "Yeah, and those lady barbers that have taken
over the barber business around here give those cookie-cutter haircuts that
all look the same with the backs squared-off and all; it's just not
stylish. You got style, Dylan." I mumble, "I don't know about that, but
thanks again," and I give his neck a hug. He goes, "None of that,
Dylan... I ain't gay." "What's so wrong with being gay," I ask, as I
outline around his ear with little snips of the scissors, while pulling his
ear so I don't nip it. Nice ears, by the way. Ray says, "I don't want to be
called a fag or a queer; that's what's wrong with being gay." "No one talks
like that, Ray. Ask your brother." He goes, "Some guys teased Elliot, but
not in college, I guess." I say, "I need a little gel, Ray, to get the
front hairs standing-up." He goes, "Ya got a mirror," and as I'm looking in
the half-bath for gel, I say, "At my apartment; come in here and look in
the mirror over the sink."

"I got the gel, Ray," I call out, but Ray's already joined me in the little
bathroom. He checks himself out in the mirror pushing his bangs up with his
fingers. "It looks awesome, Dylan, but shouldn't it be shorter?" I go, "I
can always cut more off, Ray. And yeah, it is a little long for this style,
but your hair was so long I thought if I cut it too short the contrast
would freak you out." He takes the magazine picture out again to recheck
the guy's haircut, then says, "Would ya mind going a little shorter?" I go,
"Not at all, dude," as I brush his wide shoulder with the palm of my hand
to knock off some random hair clippings. He says, "Your hand feels good,
Dylan," and he looks at me with those dark eyes... is that a look of
longing in his eyes? I ignore his protest about hugging a few minutes ago
and hug him against me, sideways with the edge of his shoulder in against
my chest, saying, "You feel good too, Ray." He doesn't protest this time,
but instead surprises me by asking, "Do you ever kiss when you're playing
that side of the street, the gay side?" I'm like, "What do you think?" "I
don't know," he mumbles, "I accidentally surfed onto a gay site once and
the boys were kissing, sucking, and then eventually fucking... so I guess
you do." "You're correct, Ray, I do. Do you wanna try it?" He says, "If you
insist, I guess I don't have any particularly strong feeling against trying
it with you, but it seems like it'd be yucky." I lean over and kiss his
cheek, asking, "Is that yucky?" His shoulder's still against me, he hasn't
tried to move. He wipes his cheek where I kissed him with his fingers,
still mumbling, "No I guess it wasn't particularly yucky." Cupping his chin
in the palm of my hand, I slowly turn his face to me and kiss him on his
lips for about five long seconds; his hand goes to his crotch for
adjustment. He takes a deep breath, muttering, "That was a first for me..."
I wait to see what else he has to say, and it's, "How 'bout you finish my
haircut while I think about that kiss," and then another unconscious grab
of his cock. I go, "Sure thing, Ray," and give his shoulder a squeeze. He
says, "Somehow with you it don't seem so bad, but you're probably a lot
better looking than the girl I'm taking out tomorrow night, which
definitely has something to do with it." I don't say anything, instead I
put my hand on the back of his neck to squeeze there again and shake him a
little too...  he does a little grin and leans into me. 'That's my signal,'
I'm thinking. I rub my fingers through his hair, saying, "Let's finish the
haircut, Ray," and he puts his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants and
plays with himself, asking, "Can you do it quick?" like maybe he's anxious
to get to what comes after. I go, "That would be a big fat "NO!" like he
said when I asked if I could keep the scissors. I add, "No way do I want to
fuck-up your hair by hurrying." He nods his head, and then we walk back to
the stool. Ray's lost some of his bluster and I kinda miss the chuckles I
get from that, but his naked torso is turning me on so it's a fair swap.

Basically I need to do almost the entire haircut again because I can't cut
it shorter in one spot without doing the same all over his head, but I
don't mind because it's enjoyable. With this re-cut I do a lot more
shoulder rubs and general touching of his hot body. I'm already used to the
slight BO that's evident whenever he moves his arms, so it's not his torso,
it's his armpits harboring the BO, which is usually the case. Because it
isn't at the offensive level, it somehow adds to his sexiness. I still
can't pinpoint exactly why he seems sexy to me, but he does. Combing hair
in between the first two fingers of my left hand and cutting the exposed
hairs evenly with the scissors, I cut all the hairs on his head taking off
another inch, and now it's pretty short, but not as short as a clipper
cut. I don't need to taper the neck or outline around his ear again, so it
doesn't take as long as the first cut. When I'm done I put gel on his bangs
and rub some through the hairs on top of his head. Then comb the one inch
bangs up, and the hair on top down. "Take a look in the mirror now, Ray."
He hops off the stool brushing the hairs off his lap, and checks himself
out in the half bath as I sweep-up all the hair. It's quite a pile. Ray
yell, "Perfect, Dylan! You're my new barber, fuck Elliot's boyfriend,
you're better." I'm thinking, 'Yeah, I probably am better, plus Elliot's
boyfriend doesn't blow you or let you fuck him probably, but I'm your full
service barber. Haha!' Ray says, "Okay, you can kiss me some more, then I
want you to suck my cock into a hard boner, after which you'll bend over
and I'll fuck you really hard; you've earned it, Dylan. That'll be my pay
back for the haircut." I go, "How 'bout ten bucks instead?" He gooses me,
saying, "You want it, who you kidding. You called me, didn't ya! Ha!" I'm a
little randy anyway, and especially after cutting his hair so I don't even
bother to argue with him, which usually leads to more unbelievably absurd
comments from Ray, ones that make me laugh, but I'll bypass on that
because, like I said, I'm horny. Getting no argument from me, Ray asks,
"Here or in your bedroom?" I go, "Here's good, Ray," maintaining a calm
exterior although, like Ray, I'm actually quite anxious to get to it. He
gives me a huge smile when I said 'here will be fine'. I'm sure he tried
not to do such a big smile 'cause he sees himself as cool as a cucumber,
but until I confirmed I'm on board for real, he wasn't sure... my agreeing
fully to it, brought on his big smile and a little giggle of glee. Yep,
he's gonna get his cock sucked, at the least.

He gets control of his glee and changes the smile into his best impression
of an experienced stud doing me a favor. Gawd, how do I find these boys?
Haha. Ray's pulling his sweatpants down, saying, "Would you pull your pants
down too," I ask, "Why?" Ray goes, "So I can fuck ya, of course." I meant
"Why?" while I'm sucking his cock, but I pull then down and Ray says, "Hey!
You shave your hair down there. Nice dick, Dylan," I go, "You too," and he
does have a nice one. It's about five inches long, and I think I remember
that it grows a little with his erection. Lots of pubic hairs, which I'm
not a big fan of, but a real good set of gonads so he'll probably be
shooting some prodigious amount of teen cum from those babies. Both his
balls are fat, like his dick; overall a real good package on him. He says,
"Try that kissing first, Dylan, like the video. I take his head between my
hands and plant a long sloppy kiss on his mouth and he leans right into me,
his hands around my waist and his naked package pressed against mine. It
really is hot and I hear a squeak in Ray's throat. Taking my lips away to
catch my breath, and find he's breathing deeply too, and muttering, "Jeez,"
and then he plays with his dick. He asks, "Well is that it? They did more
of it on the video." I say, "You're suppose to kiss back," "Oh, yeah, I
suppose they were both kissing, okay, let's try it again." I push my tongue
into his mouth and he participates in a pretty damn good French kiss, so
he's had experience making out, but probably with a girl because I believe
him that he hasn't kissed a boy before. I tend to believe him because he
just stood there for the first couple of kisses like he wasn't sure he
should participate, but now he's really getting into the French kiss. It's
dumb, but that little whiff of teenager BO is definitely adding to his
sexiness for me. After another sloppy French kiss, we both have firm cocks,
and he mutters, short of breath, "I need my dick sucked now, Dylan... is
that okay?" I go, "Sure," and get down on my knees, which is the proper
submissive position for sucking cocks, which I am a fan of. Taking his
firm, fat, heavy cock between my thumb and forefinger to stroke it a bit, I
remembered he's cut, which is too bad, but still a damn nice penis. Ray
shuffles his feet moving closer to me, saying, "See if you can suck my dick
better that Kathy." I go, "I'm betting I'm better than Kathy," and put it
in my mouth. Quite a noticeable crotch oder as well, but like his BO it's
this side of offensive and kinda boyishly hot, and it's all good. I really
like the feel of cock in my mouth so a little crotch odor isn't a
problem. Tonguing the head and sucking the shaft of his cock gets Ray hard
as steel in what might be record time. He's hard in less than a minute and
now his hands go to my shoulders, squeezing them, grunting, "Yeah, yeah,
you're better than Kathy. Jesus, that feels good." He doesn't say anything
about stopping so I suck on it some more and he begins moving slightly,
rubbing my head, and squirming, and then he moans a long moan between his
tightly closed lips. A minute later, he goes "Ump ump!, AH!" bucks his hips
and a steam of cum floods my mouth, followed by four or five smaller
spurts, one for each hump of his hips. Almost as much cum as Robby poured
into my mouth recently, and like Robby's climax, there too much of it
coming too quickly, and I can't swallow it all... cum drools out of my
mouth, covering my chin. Ray leaves his cock in my mouth doing little hip
thrusts with low sounds of "Mmmmmmm" quietly slipping out of his throat. He
sort of fucks my mouth for a minute, probably savoring the feelings of
climaxing. I never even got it in my throat! He must have been hornier than
me, although that's hard to believe.

Finally he pulls his cock out to stroke it, mumbling, "Never felt that good
before, goddamn. Awesome!" I've got a partial boner that's listing to my
left thigh as I stand-up, and ask, "Was that good enough to get me a fuck?"
I'm kidding, of course, because I assume he's done for the evening, but he
says, "Absolutely, but I'll need a hour or so to rebuild my supply of
cum. I'm not superman, ya know." I go, "Well, in the meantime, how 'bout
sucking me off." He goes, "Ewww! No thanks." I shrug, guess that that's too
girlie for him. Sucking cock is Kathy's and my kind of thing, but it
apparently doesn't fit Ray's self image as the stud in a gay relationship,
but how to explain the kissing then? Well, studs kiss their bitches, right?
So, I guess he'll add that to his bi activity, now that he likes it. I pull
up my pants and then Ray goes, "Oh yeah," and pulls his up too. Shaking his
head slowly, he says, "That was the best climax I've had in ages!" I
mumble, "Anything to please you, Ray," He gives me a condescending pat on
the back, saying, "Don't worry, you did good, I just told ya that. I'm
gonna check-out my new hairdoo again, Dylan," and he heads for the power
room. I'm smiling to myself; he's an original alright. Then I yell after
him, "Want a soda or something?" He comes back out running his fingers up
the hairs at the back of his head, saying, "Yeah, thanks. I love this
haircut! Next time I think I'll try the clipper cut version. I like the
feel of my short hair; don't know why I let it grow so long this school
year." I nod my head toward the steps, saying, "Let's go upstairs. I'll
grab a couple of Cokes and then smoke a cigarette on the front stoop." He
follows me upstairs, playing with himself, asking, "How do you think I'd
look with the clipper cut version of this haircut?" I say, "You've got
great hair with a very good hairline, so short haircuts will look good on
you. Macho look, ya know?" "Tell me about it, dude, I know where you're
coming from." I get us both a Coke and we go outside. Ray doesn't smoke,
but he wants to try one because, "It's a cool look," he says, then explains
"I never picked it up because no one in my family smokes and the kids I
hang-out with don't either, then I met this kid who transferred in to my
class this year and he smokes, so it's something I think I want to add to
my look, ya know?" I shrug, saying, "It's wicked addictive, I try not to
smoke more than ten cigarettes a day; but, when I'm at a party with booze I
usually exceed that total. Booze and cigarettes seem to encourage more of
each other whenever they're in the same conversation, so ta speak." He
goes, "There you go again with that convoluted way of talking. I don't even
know what the fuck you said." I go, "It's not important anyway." He talks
on about this new kid, who he's obviously very interested in, so when he
takes a breath, I ask, "This new kid, is he gay?" Ray's straight forward
about it, "I hope so, and I think so, but he hasn't made the first move
yet, on me I mean. I try to give him opportunities to do so, but so far
nothing." I raise my eyebrows, questioning, and he quickly adds, "I'm
interested in him only in my effort to determine if I'm bi or straight." I
have a hard time not laughing at that whopper of a lie, but do my patented
phony cough instead and he pats my back to help me get over the coughing,
while clarifying further, "I won't know for sure I'm bisexual if I just
depend on the results with you. I say that because, let's be honest here,
you're extremely good looking and probably too sexy for your own
good... just saying, but that may be influencing me to let you suck me off
and stuff like that."  I look serious, saying, "Jeez, Ray, I didn't know
I'm messing-up your experiment, by being good looking, I mean; but, I think
that's the first time you've ever given me a compliment." He says, "Well,
it's obvious to you isn't it? I mean you're looks and sexiness are pretty
obvious!" I go, "There not obvious to me at all. No, I don't see it,
especially the sexiness part. What's that all about?" He tells me he can't
explain it, he just feels it. Ray's being dead serious about this, like he
is with just about everything. He never purposely says anything funny, and
hardly ever laughs so I wonder about that. He says he's a serious person;
well, he certainly takes himself seriously.

We sit out on the steps talking, but the more he says about himself and his
homies, the less I know about him. Many contradictions in what he says and
he's apparently oblivious to that fact. He says everything as if he's
explaining something obvious to a slow learner, so I need to rely on my
fake cough often. Finally Ray says, "It's the cigarettes, maybe." Meaning
my cough. He's still holding the unlit cigarette I gave him, and I've
smoked mind, so I ask, "Ya want a light, or have you changed your mind?" He
looks at the cigarette like he didn't know it was between his fingers, then
says, "Smoke it of course," so I hold out my lighter and he lights it and
smokes the whole thing without once inhaling. I wouldn't have thought that
possible if I hadn't watched him do it. When it's almost down to the
filter, he flicks it pretty good, then says, "Can't see the attraction of
smoking, but I'm going to buy a pack just so Tim sees me with it and I'll
have an unlit one in my mouth when I wanna be extra cool." Tim's the
transfer student I assume. We go inside where Ray wants to practice kissing
some more. I say, "First this," and hand him a stick of Doublemint gum, and
take one myself. "Oh, smoker's breath, huh?" he asks. I tell him I try to
avoid it when I can, but sometimes it's not possible, and if both parties
in a make-out have been smoking they sort of cancel one another out, but if
a breath freshener is available why not use it. He nods, chewing his gum
with an open mouth making that annoying wet-mouth sound, so after two
minutes, I go, "Enough with the gum, Ray, we'll practice kissing now." He's
like, "Sure. A little anxious are ya?" I smirk, like, "Get real!" He goes,
"How about me, am I good looking and, um, attractive and sexy?" I say, "Yes
you are, Ray. Didn't you know that?" He mumbles, "I thought I was, but it
don't seem to have an effect on Tim, ya know?" I go, "Beauty's in the eye
of the beholder," and he spits his gum into the wastebasket, muttering,
"Beholder? There you go again with that double talk." I take my gum out and
toss it in the waste basket with Ray's. "Come here, Ray," he goes, "Huh?
Oh, yeah," and comes up to me to put his hands on my hips and lift his face
up towards mine. Ray's about three inches shorter than me. I lean down and
and lock lips with him. I enjoy kissing him because he's already very
receptive to it. My hand behind his head, the other on the side of his
face. He's damn tasty and a very good make-out too. Not everyone is, but
Ray seems to take right to it so I second guess myself about thinking he's
only done this with girls. We go at it for maybe five or six minutes until
Ray pulls away breathing hard and grabbing his dick. "Damn, you're awesome
at this, Dylan. Wow, both your boyfriends and girlfriends must be all over
you, dude." I go, "Yeah, I need to beat them off with a stick. That's why
I'm here with you doing this." He goes, "Because you chased them away,
right?" I do laugh now, saying, "No! There aren't any to beat off, that's
why I'm here with you on a Friday night." He goes, "Lucky for you I'm
available tonight. Hey, to tell ya the truth, I'm a little buzzed-up from
that making-out. I'm ready to fuck you now. Where do you want it?" I go,
"We're upstairs, so lets go in my bedroom," and I lead him there, where he
pulls down his pants as soon as we walk through the door. His dick is half
boned up from the kissing, ya gotta love the recuperative powers of the
young. Of course he's not even two full years younger than me, but that
seems like quite a lot from my perspective.

Ray goes, "I need my dick sucked again, but don't overdo it this time!"
Another fake cough from me as I bend over to suck his half boned up piece
of really nice cock. It takes only a minute to get him really hard again,
he's very easily aroused! Ray's back in charge now, he says "Where's your
condoms?" I go, "I'm out, didn't you bring one?" He goes, "That would be a
big fat "No!". I left in kind of a hurry, but I never fuck anybody without
a condom." I say, "You fucked me twice without one." Ray thinks about that,
then mutters, "Oh, yeah. With you I make an exception. Do you have any lube
at least?" "That I have," I say, "Just a second," and I get my hidden lube
out of it's hiding place under the sink in my bathroom. Ray says, "Oh yeah,
that's the good stuff," as I rub his boner with it. That makes me wonder,
how much fucking he's actually doing. More than I thought apparently. So I
ask him, "How much fucking are you doing, Ray?" He goes, "I have a fuck
buddy, but I'm not learning much from that, that's why I'm interested in
Tim. I need some definitive results." Yeah, he'll be saying that when he's
fifty years old and still pretending he's not sure if he's bisexual. I pull
my pants down, but Ray says, "Take then all the way off." So I do, and now
Ray asks, "Um, Dylan, this'll sound far out there, but would you be
interested in you and me being boyfriends. I like the way you do what I
tell you, and I already told you you're sexy and very cute for a guy, ya
know. So, all I'm saying is we're pretty good together and I'm willing to
give it a try. What do you say to that?" I go, "I'm flattered Ray, but I
don't want a boyfriend right now because of my girlfriend, ya know? You
must have the same concerns." He's like, "Oh yeah, sure, but I just wanted
to offer, no problem though, but can we hook up once in a while this
summer?" I go, "I don't see why not." He nods his head to that, then gets
down to business, "Bend the fuck over, will ya?" I bend over, and Ray
shouts, "Jesus Christ, I forgot about that ass of yours. Primo ass, Dylan,"
and he's massaging both my buttocks using both his hands, mumbling, "Really
nice, dude," and a finger goes into my hole, with Ray telling me, "Hold
steady there, Dylan." Then, "Your not too tight for my big hog, so," a
second later his cock head pushes right past my sphincter muscle and I bite
my lip to keep from moaning embarrassingly. It's as fat as Robby's with at
least another inch in the length of the shaft, not that I've felt that
yet. "Feeling good, Dylan?" I go, "Uh huh," and he grips my hips and plows
right up until his bush is tickling my ass cheeks. "Nice!" he says, too
loudly. "Really nice," and he withdraws and pushes in slowly again getting
my ass muscles to accept his cock. He's had experience fer sure. Certainly
more than he had the last time he fucked me, almost a year ago now. I'm
jealous of youngsters like Ray and Dodger and Vinnie who know what they
want at an early age and just go for it. Let's face it, Ray wasn't hesitant
to nag for what he wants; he nagged me at the mall which is the reason I
thought of him when I found out Dodger couldn't make it tonight. I'd sure
like to know who his fuck buddy is. Could it be Elliot? Maybe I'm wrong
about those two not doing it together. Come to think of it, Ray made a
point of saying he and Elliot weren't doing it, and I hadn't even mentioned
Elliot.

Ray says, "Your ass is drooping, get it up!" I like the sound of that and
try to concentrate on the familiar tingling sensations in my rectum. Ray
withdraws his cock until his swollen cocked is distending my anus lips and
then slides it back in steadily and easily. I let out, a quiet "Ahhh," and
he says, "I got ya now, don't I Dylan? If I pulled out now, smacked your
ass, and said, 'That's all for today,' you'd be begging me, wouldn't ya?" I
bite my lip and say, "Get real, Ray." He goes, "Okay, then," and he pulls
his boner out, smacks my ass hard, and says, "I'm serious, that's all for
tonight. You call me, and if I'm not busy, I'll finish the fuck." I go,
"You little bastard, you'll finish it now." He's pulling his pants-up, his
boner shiny and hard looking, the skin stretched on the shaft. It does get
longer when erected. He goes, "If you say 'Please' I'll stick it back in."
I want desperately to say my favorite retort, which is, 'Go fuck yourself',
but I want that cock up my ass just as desperately. My pride wins out
though, and I do say it. Straightening-up, I say, "Go fuck yourself,
Ray. I'll never help you decide if you're bi again. And by the way..." but
he interrupts, really contrite, "Jeez, Dylan, can't you take a joke. I'm
kidding you. I'm not a prick... it was a joke. Can't we continue now like
you said a minute ago?" I say, "Ask me nicely, using the word "Please" and
I'll let you continue." "Sure," he says, "I was joking around. Please,
Dylan, let me finish fucking you. I promise not to joke around again." I
go, "One more 'please' if you don't mind." He does a stretched out,
"Pleeeeeze". I smile at that, then say, "Let's kiss away the difference,"
and he comes right over so we can repeat our hot "French kiss. Then he
says, "Can we continue now, Dylan. I say, "Just a second, you turn around,
I want to give you that smack on my ass back." "Not too hard, Dylan. I
didn't hit you too, too hard." He turn his back to me, "Bend over, Ray," he
does, and he's got a cute ass too, but I can see hair in his crack so that
deducts some points. I give his right butt cheek the hardest smack I can
come up with, and he yells, "OWWW!" rubbing his ass and
straightening-up. "I guess I deserved that," he mutters. Then, "Well my
joke didn't work out for me, I can see that. Damn! That hurt." "Good," I
say, and he says, "We gotta kiss away the difference again, I mean, after
that smacked ass you gave me." I smile at that, he's so sincere about it,
plus I like a youngster who's learned his place. The French kiss gets my
dick back to semi-boner status, Ray's too, but I still need to suck his
cock again, and now it's lathered with jelly and it's been up my ass, but
grunge is sexy sometimes. And just like that a thought flies through my
brain: 'I wouldn't think of kissing the incredibly attractive French boy in
Key West once he ate his booger, but I'll suck a cock with lube on it after
it's been up my ass. What's wrong with this picture? Ha!' I pick-up Ray's
sticky hot cock and suck on just the head while licking it with my tongue,
then suck the shaft into my mouth, inch by inch cleaning it as it stiffens
and quite quickly it's a fat, hard pole in my mouth. Ray's making those
squeaky sounds which he made earlier just before blowing a large load of
teen spunk in my mouth. Time to pull off his hard boner, sucking on it all
the way out until the heads the only thing between my lips. Two licks with
my tongue and I feel his slit quiver. I stop when a spray of precum hits my
tongue. Wow, Ray recovers fast! He's massaging my shoulders squirming and
lifting one foot, then the other, so I gotta get his cock completely out
now. Pushing it out with my tongue it makes a sucking sound breaking free
of my lips and it stands straight out of Ray's significant bushy pubic
patch.

I push his hand away as he goes to stroke it. Looking up at him, I say,
"You were going to shoot-off in my mouth again, weren't ya?" He looks
guilty, mumbling, "I couldn't help it; you're the best, un...." I mutter,
"Cocksucker?" He goes, "Yeah, but I was afraid you'd get pissed-off at me
again if I used that word." Hmmm, guess my decision to tell Ray to, 'Go
fuck yourself' was the right choice, although I came pretty close to
saying, 'please' like he wanted. His attitude adjustment is remarkable. I
was right not to use that same retort with Cory though, so it's a touchy
thing knowing when and when not to use that particular phrase. Standing up,
I say, "Don't stroke your boner unless you want to jerk off instead of
fucking me." He looks down, asking, "Ya mean I can still do it, fuck you, I
mean?" I go, "Sure, but I need to ask you something: is your sex-buddy gay
and not, um, bi like maybe you are?" He goes, "Oh yeah, totally gay, why?"
"I'm wondering who it is, that's all. You seem much more experienced then
the last time I helped you decide if you're bi." He quickly says, "I can't
tell you who it is, but it's definitely not my brother." Well, that just
about confirms that it is Elliot after all. I'll be damed, it don't seem
like something Elliot has the stones to pull off; brother sex, I mean. None
of my business of course. I put my hand behind Ray's head, and give him a
quick kiss on the lips, saying, "You're much more likable when you're not
trying to be an experienced hard-ass stud." He says, "I don't know how to
act around you, Dylan. You're older and you seemed to like it when I'm the
bad-ass, or what you just said... a stud." I go, "Guess I was giving off
the wrong signals, Ray. My fault. I like you better when you're nicer." He
chews his bottom lip, then mumbles, "Do you think if I continue to act the
way you want, that you and me, um... could, you know, be like boyfriends?
Ya know, like I suggested before" I say, "Hey, that's sweet Ray, but I
wouldn't get my hopes up with that if I were you. Just some buddy sex once
in a while will probably work better because I'm away at college and you've
got a girlfriend, and you know, it'd be complicated." Looking at me now, he
goes, "I don't need to keep the girlfriend if you don't want me to, and we
could work out the different schedules, couldn't we?" I say, "Let's see
what develops, Ray, but stick to buddy sex for now," and I squeeze the back
of his neck again. I miss the chuckles I get when Ray's acting his normal
overbearing self, but that's okay, he's more likable this way. "Ya ready?"
I ask. He nods his head eagerly, muttering, "Oh yeah, my balls have finally
stopped vibrating," and he's so serious about it that I do get a chuckle,
then bend over, asking, "This position good for you, Ray?" His eyes have a
shine to them now, "Definitely!" is his only remark as he steps up behind
me and guides his boner to my anus, and with his hands at my waist he humps
his hips hard forcing his cock three inches up my ass, and it feels just as
good as it did five minutes ago. He slowly pushes his cock the rest of the
way in, and gives an extra hump when I feel his pubic hairs surrounding my
buttock. "Mmmm, uhhh," he goes. Then he rubs the palms of his hands up my
back and pressing down firmly until a hand grabs each of my shoulders and
pulls me back into him tightly. He drops his arms around my belly and holds
me against him, then begins fucking me with hard slams into my buttocks,
slapping his groin against my ass sending his boner as far up my ass as he
can get it. His nuts bang between my thighs with each hard drive up my ass
and he does it for a full two minutes without letting up the speed or the
strength of the thrusts. I'm grunting with pleasure at each thrust of his
hard boner. His cock thickens a little more as he presses the side of his
face against my back and keeps his hip thrusting that great boner of his
into my rectum. It's a very satisfying fuck and my cock is hard, pointing
up my stomach, the lips of my pee slit are quivering as my balls get harder
and harder moving up in their sac. A moan of sexual pleasure leave my lips.

Ray's tired and breathing hard so he again slams his cock tightly up my ass
and leaves it there, mumbling, "I almost blew my load, Dylan. If I hadn't
cum in your mouth an hour ago I'd have filled you up by now." I take a big
breath, and in a strained voice, say, "Awesome fuck, Ray. Take your time."
He's back to rubbing his palms up my back, under my sweatshirt now, then
grabbing my sides right under my arm pits and slowly dragging the palms of
his hand down my sides giving me shivers of delight and making my shoulders
shudder and damn, it feels good so I tell him, "Really feels good, Ray."
Sounding a little like the Ray of old, he goes, "Ya ready for some more? My
cock big enough for ya?" I go, "Affirmative on both counts." He says,
"Don't get pissed at me, but do you mind if I smack your ass while I'm
fucking a climax out of you? It's what I do with my bro, um, my sex buddy."
I say, "You're pretty much in charge, Ray. Do it your way, I'm good with
that." He straightens up and smacks my ass hard, muttering, " When I'm
fucking another boy they get what I wanna give them," and another hard
smack on my ass. I grunt at the sting, and my cock gets hard enough to pull
away from my belly on it's way to sticking straight out from my body. Ray's
back to being more like his old self now, but it's hard not to feel a
little dominant when you've got your cock up another boy's ass, it's
natural to feel like the dominant one. "That'll do for now," he mutters,
meaning the smacks on my ass, then adds, "Those ass smacks should confirm
to ya who the man is here.". Then he cups my shoulder with both hand and
begins slamming his cock up my ass even faster then before and I can't help
but moan with each thrust because it feels so fuckin' good. "You love it
like this, don'cha?" and he fucks me harder now, in a frenzy. My climax
comes on me fast as all my senses are at high alert giving their fullest
attention to the stimulation in my rectum; I tighten my groin muscles, let
out an embarrassing squeal, and fire cum across the throw rug, then another
good spurt as Ray smacks my ass twice, grunting, "Shoot your sperm, boy!"
and fucks me even a little harder. When my nuts are dry and my scalp is
tingling and that enormous erotic sensation of unspeakable pleasure begins
to fade, Ray yelps, lays on my back with his arms around me and humps a
load of teen spunk up my ass, then two more spurts as he whimpers with
pleasure. He lets the awesome sensations of his orgasm spread over him for
thirty seconds, then gasps, and fucks my ass in his slippery cum for two
more minutes before pulling out and giving my ass one last slap. "That, my
friend, is how to fuck your buddy's ass," he triumphantly says. I stand-up
stroking my cock, muttering, "I can't argue with you there, Ray. Hell of a
fuck, dude," and hold my fist out for Ray to bump it with his. "Ya didn't
think I could fuck that good, did ya?" he asks, wanting more praise, like
they all do. I say, "Actually, no. You've really upped you game, Ray. Lots
of practice?" He says, "I get enough. Ya want a little more? I got more to
give." I say, "Sure, it felt really good, especially since it's been awhile
for me." He comes up behind me with us both standing and slides his cock
back up my ass, mumbling, "Bend your knees a little," and when I do he gets
his full boner inside my ass, muttering, "It's messy up there, heh heh."
Holding me around the waist, with his face pressed against my shoulder, he
fucks me steadily for five more minutes and just when I'm feeling a second
squirt of cum getting ready to plop out of my dick, he pulls out, saying,
"I'm getting a little sore, Dylan, sorry. I had a marathon sex party with
my buddy just last night so my dick's getting a little tender." I go,
"Jesus, dude, you've got unbelievable stamina." He smirks, "Little Ray
surprised you, didn't he?" Not being sure if he's talking in the third
person or referring to his dick, I go, "Yeah, I guess."

We clean-up a little in my bathroom and Ray's reverted back to the nice
Ray, asking, "Um, can I hang-out with you awhile?" I go, "Sure, Ray,
waddaya want to do?" He says, "Can we cruise the Loop, I'd kinda like to
run into some of my buds while hangin' with you. Impress the guys, ya
know?" I go, "Jesus, Ray, you think hanging with me will impress anybody?
Ya gotta be kiddin', dude." He's like, "You'd be surprised." So, I drive us
to the loop and we cruise around, then park and walk over to a joint for
sodas. A little later, outside the movie complex, Ray runs into three guys
trying to look tough and cool. They're all seventeen or eighteen which
isn't much younger than me, although they act like they're fifteen or
sixteen, but that might be unfair because us college kids can act childish
at times too. A tall skinny kid with a big Adams apple goes, "Ray dude, ya
got your hair cut, what the fuck?" Ray goes, "Fuck, Rory, ya wanna look
like a middle school kid all the way through high school, go ahead. That
eighties hairdo you're rocking' is so tired it's sick!" Adams apple says,
"Really, why didn't ya tell me before, dude?" Ray goes, "I'm telling ya
now, okay..." I guess Ray's 'the man' in this posse. Another kid, this one
with shaggy blond hair, runs his fingers through his hair, saying, "I'm
keeping my hair long, that's just the way I roll. Fuck short hair," then he
quickly adds, "But it looks rockin' on you, Ray." Ray raises his eyebrows
and makes a face, like, 'you're so pathetic', then says, "You look like
shit Al, but it's just the right look for you." Then he introduces me as
'his college bud, Dylan Newman,' and shockingly none of them has ever heard
of me, but they've heard of Robby, who comes up in the conversation when it
gets around to 'what's it like at college?' and I describe living in an
apartment with two other guys etc. etc.. "Rob Dickers is that awesome
baseball player for Framingham High, right?" a short kid with facial hair
asks. It seems that scruffy is cool among these guys. I go, "Yeah, he's
playing second base for Merrimack now, although he dislocated his shoulder
last week sliding into third base with a triple." Fascial hair says, "His
picture's on the sports hall wall, my brother played with him, Bill
Curry. Ya ever hear of him?" I go, "Yeah he was awesome too," although
that's the first time in my life I've ever heard the name. Just wanted to
make the kid feel good. He goes, "Not as good as Rob though." The boys
kibitz some more as I wonder if one of these three could be another of
Ray's fuck buddies; it sure ain't obvious if one of them is gay. Teens can
cover that up really well when they want to. It's damn hard finding a fuck
buddy because of the scarcity of gay boys, but mostly it's the fault of the
deep-closeted gay boys. These three are going to a late movie, but Ray's
not interested because, as he informs his homies, "Nah, I got a date
tomorrow night and I might take her to see this movie. Check you derelicts
out later."

That satisfies Ray's needs for showing-off apparently because he asks, "Ya
wanna do something else?" I go, "Yeah, I was goig to hang-in at home
tonight and watch the Red Sox game." He goes, "That's cool!"  I guess I've
got a companion for the night. It's fine because I've grown a little bit
fond of Ray, especially when he backed-down at my 'Go fuck yourself'
remark. He's got a good-guy side that he thinks need to be under wraps so
he can be a tough guy. He'd be better off just being himself, but that's
for him to decide. Back at the condo I first break into Chubby's condo,
using the key from the mailbox, and steal two of Tris' beers. My mom never
has beer in our place because she doesn't like beer, which is a lame
excuse, but there it is. I don't like beer either, but it doesn't stop me
from drinking it. I want Ray to feel he's had an adventure, which is the
reason for the beers. We watch the game in the finished basement with me
sitting on the chaise lounge that Chubby and I sit on together when we
watch TV. I ask Ray, "Ya wanna share this with me?" He goes, "Yeah, I'd
like to," so he sits next to me as we watch the game and drink our
beers. After the beer I ask, "Ya want another one, Ray," he burps, laughs
at the burp, then says, "No thanks, Dylan, I'm driving tonight," which I
like. I put an arm behind Ray's neck, saying, "Let's get comfortable," and
he nestles in against me giggling, saying, "I feel silly sitting with you
like this, but I like it." I go, "Me too, Ray. We'll be gay tonight, then
tomorrow you'll be straight with your dates." He says, "That's bi, right,
Dylan?" I go, "Bingo, we got bingo." He asks, "What's that mean?" and I
chuckle, then say, "It's not important." I like the feel of his body and
after a while we wind-up making out, which causes tents to form in our
laps, very pleasant. Ray get's out of breath, but manages to ask, "Would
you like me to fuck you again?" I surprise myself by saying, "Not tonight,
Ray. You did me up real good; I feel fine." He's nodding his head,
muttering, "Ya didn't think I could fuck that good, did ya?" It's the
second time he's asked that exact same thing, but I build-up his ego a
little by exaggerating how awesome a fuck he laid on me, and he actually
did a hell of a fuck for real, it's just, I don't know, I'm starting to
feel like I'm taking advantage of him, and I prefer not to think that I
am. I liked it better when he thought he was taking advantage of me. Maybe
that's semantics, but it's how I feel. Ray's fiddling around with my wrist,
maybe hinting he'd like to hold hands... or that might be projection on my
part, but he sees my wristwatch and sits up, exclaiming, "Shit! I was
suppose to be home before eleven, it's ten past eleven. I gotta go, Dylan."
He's in a rush now and it seems out of character for him, but apparently
he's responsible about getting home when his parents want him to.

Upstairs we do an awkward half hug, half handshake and he's out the door
saying, "Fantastic time tonight, Dylan. Promise me we can do it again." I
go, "Definitely Ray, you rock, dude." I watch him running down the steps,
worried that he'll trip in his haste, but he makes it safely to the
bottom. Then, before pulling away from the curb in his mother's car, he
looks both ways and waits until he can pull out slowly and safely. Humph!
Who'd a thought he'd be a conscientious driver?

Interesting night, and Ray's fuck was good fer sure, but by comparison to
Robby, Ray has a ways to go. Wonder what's in store for me tomorrow with
Dodger? Oh boy, that'll be a few steps up the ladder from Ray. Yeah,
Dodger, sorta Robby's twin.

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

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