Date: Sun, 26 Aug 2012 18:36:51 -0700 (PDT)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR  Chapter 40  by Donny Mumford

			   DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR

				Chapter 40

			     by Donny Mumford


After we've finished our dessert at Friendlies, Dodger drives us back to
his house and then we're in inside the pool house where Dodger turns on a
few low lights, just enough so we can see, and then he gives his usual
command, "Take it off, boys. Get bare-ass naked." We do that, but slower
than we did it earlier because all the earlier sex we've engaged in has
turned the heat down in our sexual furnaces; the earlier hot glow for buddy
sex is tempered, but that's not to say we aren't up for it. We're not
really horny now, but we want to have a memorable threesome; none of us is
gonna say, "I've had enough." That's not happening... no way. Dodger passes
out the assignments with Vinnie and I all ears. Dodger goes, "Dylan gets to
suck Vinnie's cock again and Vinnie, you lucky kid, gets to suck mine." He
goes over and hops up on the pingpong table, sitting at the edge with his
legs spread and dangling over the side. I get on my knees facing away from
the table with Dodger's feet on either side of my shoulders and Vinnie
stands in front of me, his limp five-plus inch penis hanging invitingly
between his thin thighs. He'll need to bend over my head to get to Dodger's
dick; he handles that easy enough, with a hand on each of my shoulders for
support. As the wet slurping begins, it's obvious that this arrangement
works well enough to accomplish boners. Because Dodger and Vinnie are going
to get their boners up my ass, or at least try, they're the ones who need
their dicks sucked into boners, but I usually get my own boner from sucking
a hot cock, and Vinnie's got himself a perfect example of a hot cock. I'm
soon stroking my hard dick as I lick and suck Vinnie's. Vinnie's cock is
reasonably clean because it hasn't been up anybody's ass since our shower
after round one. In round two I fucked Vinnie while Dodger was fucking me
and Vinnie blew his load so there's remnants of that, but no ass juices or
jelly on his fat penis. The same can't be said for Dodger's cock because it
was up my ass, but it is what it is. From the wet sounds over my head, I
take it the rather sloppy condition of Dodger's cock isn't bothering Vinnie
all that much. I'm enjoying the taste of his as he's apparently enjoying
Dodger's. I gotta wonder how many times a week Vinnie sucks Dodger off, it
must be very familiar territory for both of them. Because it's our third
round there's more giggling and screwing around while we're sucking cocks
than earlier, when we were seriously horny. Messin' around, like me giving
Vinnie's balls a good squeeze every once in a while, getting a high pitched
screech from him each time. "Don't you dare bite my dick when you're
screeching out, Vinnie," warns Dodger, with a follow-up chuckle. That's
what's got me giggling; that, plus Vinnie's yelps. I'm doing these nut
crunches as payback for all the slaps on my ass earlier, courtesy of
Vinnie. Dodger's giggling because Vinnie screeches in a high-pitched voice
and it's funny, like a cartoon character might screech. Vinnie gets back at
me for the ball crunching by forcing out a long fart with overtones of
chicken fingers, and that gets me yelling, "Oh Gawd! Gross!" as the odor
wafts around my head. Vinnie and Dodger laugh their asses off at my
reaction to the fart because the younger you are, the funnier farts
are. So, all in all the cock sucking is not so much sexy as it's
recreational fun with some cock sucking thrown in, but boners are managed
after ten or fifteen minutes just the same.


With his boner bouncing in front of him, Dodger hops off the pingpong table
and I give a last slurping suck on Vinnie's boner, then awkwardly get up,
proud of the boner I sucked on Vinnie. Both Vinnie and Dodger stroke their
most recent boners, then lather on jelly and I bend over to have lube piled
on and up my asshole. "We'll need plenty of lube for this experiment,"
Dodger says, and Vinnie goes, "I'm excited! Our cocks squished together in
Dylan's ass, WOW! Hot, huh, Dodger?" He mutters, "Calm the fuck down and
let me try to remember how they did this on the video." I go, "How 'bout I
bend over with my hands on the pingpong table for support?" We try that,
and with me bending over Dodger forces his cock up my ass, giving me an
even nicer boner. Damn, it feels good having a cock inside me again. I got
hard from sucking Vinnie's awesome cock, but with Dodger humping my ass my
boner's hardness gets kicked-up a notch. Dodger fucks me for two minutes,
then says, "Come on, Vinnie, squeeze your boner in next to mine, I got him
opened up pretty good." They're tightly side by side, each with an arm
around the other's back. It's not as easy as you might think though 'cause
they need to do a half turn away from each other to allow Vinnie access to
my asshole. Then I feel the head of Vinnie's cock stretching my anus, it's
stretching and stretching. After a minute a little more of Vinnie's cock
goes in and I scream, "Owww! Fuck, that hurts!" Dodger says, "Everybody
stay calm, and don't move. We'll give your ass time to adjust, Dylan." Then
I hear some quiet giggling from the boys at my rear end. I turn my head,
but can only see Vinnie who has his hand over his mouth trying not to laugh
out loud. I guess from their point of view it is funny, but to me, not so
much. In another minute my anus amazingly stretches even more so Vinnie
gets his cock in a little further, and it's the tightest thing I've ever
felt, but my ass has been used so often in Key West, and since Key West,
that it's pretty tough. The problem is, when Vinnie's pushing his boner in
next to Dodger's, it means Dodger needs to move away a little to allow
Vinnie more access and Dodger's cock slips out. They try it a half dozen
ways, adjusting the position of their bodies this way and that, but
Dodger's cock is simply not long enough for both cocks to be in me even two
inches. My ass is way opened up now, so that's not the problem. Vinnie
says, "Your dick's too short, Dodger," which gets me laughing. It was the
definitive way he said it, so matter of fact, and Dodger yells, "No shit,
Einstein!!" and I'm biting my tongue to keep from laughing harder. Vinnie's
like, "Don't get mad at me, Dodger. It's not my fault."  Dodger's cock is
out entirely now so Vinnie takes the opportunity to thrusts his boner up my
ass, all the way up till his pubic hairs tickle my ass cheeks, then out and
almost all the way up again. He mutters, "I got a good boner going for me,
Dodger," and he grips my ass and fucks me fast for ninety seconds as Dodger
lights a cigarette, asking, "What the hell ya doing, Vinnie?" Vinnie goes,
"Whaddaya mean?" Even with all the fucking I've had today, it still feels
really good.

Dodger pulls Vinnie away saying, "Cool down, Vinnie!" I would've been
content to let him fuck a climax out of me, but Dodger's like, "We're going
to make this work, but I guess I'll need to switch places with Dylan."
Vinnie pushes his cock up my ass again and gives my ass four more fast
thrusts of his boner, then pulls out, casually saying, "Yeah, it'll
probably work with Dylan's and my longer cocks," and I do about four fake
coughs to cover up my laughing at the way Vinnie's unknowingly rubbing it
in to Dodger that he has a small dick. Dodger mimics Vinnie, "Yeah, that'll
probably work," then he whacks Vinnie's ass. Vinnie yelps and his hand goes
back to his smacked ass to rub it. He mutters, "What?" but he has nothing
more to say. Dodger takes a deep breath and goes, "Vinnie suck on Dylan's
cock for a minute, will ya? It's already hard from you fucking him, but we
need it uber hard, and as long as it'll get. Let's get this experiment
moving along." I think we're all losing a little enthusiasm for the
project, but we're not quitters. Vinnie bends over and takes my already
hard cock in his mouth and does his magic on it, and it does gets
harder. I'm soon grunting, "That's good Vinnie, that's good..." He gives my
balls a hard squeeze then and I make a screech similar to the one Vinnie
made when I squeezed his nuts. "Just returning the favor, Dylan," he
mutters with a grin and a giggle. That has Dodger smiling and chuckling
too, "Okay, let's try it," he says. "I'll sacrifice my ass to complete our
mission," He leans over supporting himself on the pingpong table as Vinnie
puts lube on his anus, and his slippery finger goes up Dodger' ass. When
that's done Vinnie and I try getting our cocks up Dodger's ass first, and
he wins. Vinnie probably doesn't get a chance to fuck Dodger too often, so
he deserves the chance. Come to think of it, I've never fucked Dodger even
once myself. Vinnie's got a grip on Dodger's hips and he's really plowing
his hole. It's hot seeing this and I'm stroking my boner as I watch. Dodger
grunts, "Jesus, that feels good, Vinnie, but try for the double-cock fuck
before I blow another load. You fuck good, Vinnie." He sounds surprised
about that, so maybe Vinnie's never fucked Dodger before. He has now
though. I get my arm around Vinnie waist to hold us together and he leans
away from Dodger a little. In this position I can easily get my six inch
rod next to Dodger's anus and Vinnie's cock, which is already up Dodger's
ass about three inches. I push in next to Vinnie's cock and man is that a
hot feeling. Cock on cock in the asshole of a cute boy. Wow! I mutter,
"This is so fuckin' hot, Dodger." He's groaning, "Go slow you two
perverts." I wait to allow Dodger's anus and rectum to relax and accept the
huge load, thinking how nice Vinnie's taut little body feels plastered next
to mine. Vinnie mumbles to me, "Your dick feels smooth even though it's
hard as stone." I squeeze him with my arm around his waist, mumbling,
"Your's too, Vinnie." He grins as Dodger says, "Okay, enough of the mutual
admiration society, push in a little more. We will succeed, gentlemen!" I
chuckle, and push in another inch. Dodger yells, "Ow! Motherfuckers!" and
all three of us laugh. Vinnie leans over and kisses near my mouth,
muttering, "This is such a turn-on for me..." I grin, sweat forming between
Vinnie and me, and say, "Ya think?" He smiles and I squeeze his side again
and push in another inch which gets a controlled, "Ow, wait a fuckin'
minute," from Dodger. Vinnie has his arm around me too now, I say to him,
"Intimate, ain't it?" He nods his head and then leans in towards me and we
do a real nice wet kiss making a smacking sound when our lips
separate. Dodger screams, "Are you two perverts making out?" Vinnie goes,
"Yeah, we are. Should we stop?" Dodger laughs, "No, go ahead and do
whatever you want, just get this fuck going." Vinnie rambles on, "I wasn't
feeling totally comfortable with Dylan this morning, but I am now." Dodger
grunts, sarcastically saying, "Ah, that's sweet." It's got to be hurting
him, two good size cocks at least three inches up his ass has got to be
approaching the elasticity limits of his asshole.

Dodger's being a damn good sport about this so I push my cock in further,
but it's really tight against Dodger's dangerously stretched anus and I can
feel Vinnie's awesome boner actually increasing in girth. Incredibly sexy
situation! I say to Vinnie, "Lets try withdrawing together and then see if
we can push in further than we are now. He bobs his head quickly and,
holding onto each other, we try moving our cocks back out as if they were
one. It works okay and again I'm amazed how much Dodger's asshole opens to
accommodate this large intrusion. We push back in together, withdraw and do
it again getting our cocks even further up Dodger's ass. There's lots of
lube and with Dodger's rectum opened up good for us we get into a rhythm
and carefully stay together fucking Dodger's ass with double cocks. I'm
telling you, having Vinnie's boner rubbing mine, with Dodger's anus and
rectum doing the same, it's double your pleasure. Dodger's groaning, but
that changes to moans of pleasure. Not just from Dodger, but from all three
us as the sensations grow and grow. I don't know how long we've were doing
it, maybe a total of ten minutes with no one talking, just making the
regular pleasure sounds you make while fucking. Vinnie's and my boners are
squished together in Dodger's ass and our bodies are squashed together
almost as tightly; our bodies are basically glued together as we fuck as
one. Dodger finally moans, "Fuck, this feels good, but the sexiest part is
knowing you both have your cocks inside me at the same time... I'm gonna
cum any second now." Then Vinnie squeals and I feel his cum all around the
head of my cock. This is so fucking sexy I grunt and blow a short burst of
creamy spunk in with Vinnie's, then we're squeezing our bodies together
even tighter, getting our boners further up Dodger's ass with each thrust
and we both spurt out another small shot of cum. Small in volume, but large
in sensations. Not like the gushing cum of earlier fucks, but damn good and
my shoulders shudder along with Vinnie's. "You boys spermed up my ass, I
can feel the extra goo. I'm almost there." And more moans from Dodger
follow as he's now pushing his ass back at our continuing thrusts. Vinnie
and I are both breathing hard and then a strangled grunt and, "Ohh, fucks,"
from Dodger as his hips jerk and cum splatters on the leg of the pingpong
table. Then another hip thrust and more of Dodger's cum splatters on the
indoor/outdoor carpet. We fuck for another thirty seconds, but we've had it
by now and without communicating with each other, Vinnie and I pull out
together. For some reason we embrace, like we just won some sort of team
competition. A quick kiss on the lips snaps us out of it and we let go of
each other and bend over with our hands on our knees catching our
breath. Dodge's ass is open freakishly wide and Vinnie points to it,
looking at me grinning.  He says, "Ewww, that might never close up," and we
put our arms over each other's shoulders laughing. I go, "Ewww," and
Dodger's like, "What the fuck are you two nincompoops laughing at now?" He
turns around pulling on his cock, saying, "Victory! We've accomplished the
two-boner fuck and I'm the hero for donating my asshole to the
project. Let's see, it's Saturday, so by Wednesday my ass will probably be
closed to its normal condition." Vinnie says, "Ya better give it until
Thursday, Dodger." We all laugh at that although it's not that funny. Not
that funny, but a lot of fun. We've had a damn good three-way and to say
I'm sexually satisfied after today's marathon fucking would be an
understatement.

We clean up the spunk on the floor and the leg of the pingpong table, then
take another shower with Vinnie and me giving Dodger the hero treatment I
got earlier. We shampoo, wash, and dry him, and then shower
ourselves. Clean and dressed again we go into the main house where Dodger
puts all the towels and clothes we used today in the washing machine. After
that we play Xbox 720 in the family room and that's what we're innocently
doing when Dodger's folks get back from the Home Show. "Hi boys!" from
Mrs. Dickers, then, "So nice to see you again, Dylan." She rubs my head,
smiling, "Now I understand why Dodger has that haircut of his. You boys
look sharp." Dodger and I roll our eyes at each other. He mouths the word,
"Sharp." Mrs. Dickers says hi to Vinnie too, but she sees a lot more of him
than she sees of me so it's almost routine, like she's saying hi to one of
her kids. She's nice enough, sometimes a little too much because she has a
tendency to go overboard, but she's fine. Mr. Dickers comes in from the
garage giving us all a greeting in his too-loud way, then he says to me, "I
hear you'll be working on Robby's grass cutting crew again this summer,
Dylan. Glad to have you aboard, son." I mumble, "Thanks, Mr. Dickers,
thanks for hiring me again." He says, "It's Robby who's doing the hiring
and firing for his crew this year. Well, him and Chuck Tannum, who'll be
Robby's boss. He's a stickler for details, Chuck is. Word to the wise,
don't be late for work! I leave that concern to Chuck though." Dodger says,
"Dad, I'm on Robby's crew too." Mr. Dicker squeezes Dodger's shoulder,
saying, "Now Dodger, that's not finalized yet." Dodger goes, "Yep, it
is. Robby called Mr. Tannum last weekend and he gave his okay. I'm on the
job this summer. Big bucks for this kid." His dad chuckles, mumbling,
"There's no grass growing under your feet, Dodger... no pun intended." I
decide that it's time to go, adults make me tired sometimes. But,
Mrs. Dickers comes in with a plate of brownies. Oh brother, how corny! What
are we, ten years old? What the hell, I eat three big brownies so as not to
hurt her feelings; Dodger and Vinnie eat four each, finishing the
plate. She asks, "What have you boys been up to today?" Dodger says, "Dylan
was helping me with a project, and Vinnie watched. You know Vinnie, he
follows me around like a puppy." Vinnie goes, "I do not! You called me to
come over, Dodger." Mrs. Dicker's is probably used to them bickering, she
ignores that and wants to know, "Dodger, were you and Dylan working on a
school project?" Dodger goes, "I'm getting a headache, mom! Why the third
degree?" She says, "I'm interested in you, Dodger." He goes, "I know mom,
you're the best." She smiles, forgetting about her question, "I should have
had girls," she mutters, patting Dodger's cheek. He goes, "Mommmm!"

When Mrs. Dickers is in the kitchen, I ask Dodger, "How 'bout a ride
home... it's been a day to remember, but I'm worn out." Dodger gets up,
saying, "You're getting too old to keep up with Vinnie and me, that's
all. Come on Vinnie, ride along with us. You can keep me company on the way
back and maybe I'll give ya a quickie in the pickup." Vinnie's like,
"Really, Dodger?" Dodger goes, "Yeah, well at least some of what I just
said I meant." We walk through the kitchen on our way out. Dodger's folks
are drinking adult beverages discussing their day's successes. We say our
goodbyes and thank Mrs. Dickers for the brownies and then we're outside
lighting cigarettes. We smoke the cigarettes with Dodger's pickup blocking
the view from the house, with Vinnie babbling on about that puppy dog
comment of Dodger's. Dodger finally says, "Okay, Vinnie, you're not
following me around like a puppy dog, it was a fuckin' joke, dude. Who
loves ya?" Vinnie's frowning, looking hurt, then he leans into Dodger for a
one arm hug. "He's sensitive, Dylan," says Dodger, with smoke drifting from
his nose, "A sensitive kid, but awesome too! Right, Vinnie?" Vinnie gives a
begrudging grin, muttering, "You're friggin' right about that, Dodger."
Then Dodger takes a drag, still hugging Vinnie around the neck with one
arm. He says, "I'm thinking of getting a dog collar for my boy here, do you
have any suggestions, Dylan?" I go, "Better get a choker collar,
Dodger... that's my suggestion." Vinnie goes, "I'm not even listening to
you assholes." Dodger and I exchange smirks, then Dodger kisses Vinnie's
head mumbling, "Don't worry, Vinnie, it definitely won't be a choker
collar." Vinnie makes a face, "I hear nothing." I go, "It's been quite a
Saturday, one I won't forget for days." We step on our cigarette butts and
get into the pickup. On the way to my place Dodger runs through a minute by
minute description of what it's like being fucked by two boners at the same
time, making it funny as hell. Pulling over at the curb below my condo, he
says, "My asshole is still so wide open I could fit a can of Coke up
there." Vinnie asks, "Can I see it Dodger, your wide open asshole, not you
putting a can of Coke in your hole?" Dodger mutters, "Probably not,
Vinnie. More like I'll be seeing your asshole as I push my dick in it."
Vinnie goes, "That's good by me too." We bump fists saying, "Catch ya down
the road, toad!" And that's it. It's like that with buddy sex... no sleep
overs or lovey/dovey stuff when it's over. It's just, "Check ya out later,
dude," and you go on your way. Not a bad thing, actually.

Saturday night at eleven o'clock and I'm safely home, pretty much sexually
satisfied, totally sober, and tired. None of these are bad things either. I
said I'm pretty much sexually satisfied instead of totally satisfied
because there was no love and very little dominance involved in the
sex. Dodger's bossy, but he's also funny and basically a sweet kid. So it
looks like I find myself in this condition where only Robby can totally
sexually satisfy me; we're in love and that's what does it for me. Now I
must admit that there's another way I can be totally sexually satisfied and
that's by an extremely, but safe, dominant sex partner. I wonder who that
might be, haha. Well, Willie is the only one who can do it for me, but it
seems it only works in short spurts. I quickly revert back to loving sex
with my true love Robby the minute I'm reunited with him, which is the
reason I'm going to stay with Robby a long, long time. But, the big 'but'
comes into play when I need to admit to myself I'm kinda looking forward to
a day or two of Willie's kind of dominant sex too. Like I said to myself in
Key West, it's the thrill ride of sexual endeavors for me. Most guys
probably can't fathom why it's so hot, so thrilling, but that's because
they can't get into a submissive role like I can. Actually, I can't get
into it by myself, I need someone I like to be just the right kind of
dominant for me to experience total submissiveness. Everyone's different I
would imagine, and it was a thousand to one shot that I met Willie, but I
like him a lot and I love me a little of his kind of sex occasionally. Of
course it's a mute point if he's no longer interested in me, although I
can't imagine that to be the case. I'm not bragging or conceited about
that; it's just that he couldn't fake his affection for me unless he's an
Academy Award-winning actor. Wonder why he hasn't called? It's been a week,
over a week actually. Thankfully I've grown enough and managed to mature
enough that there'll be none of the nagging for sex to Willie that I did
with fat Carl. I was just a kid then and had just discovered gay sex. But
if Willie calls, and I'm sure he will, I'm ready for a ride on that roller
coaster for a night or two. Especially since Robby's been injured and I've
had no loving sex in days. I might be thinking differently if Robby and I
were still rockin' our form of sex together, but that's not the case at the
moment.

I get undressed and use the bathroom, take a pee and brush my teeth. Just
had a shower a couple hours ago so no need for another one. I wonder if
Chubby's home yet. At eleven o'clock! Get real, Dylan, he's never home this
early on a Saturday night. We'll fix Sunday brunch together tomorrow
morning though, and then maybe we can spend the rest of the day hanging out
together. That'd be nice. In bed I yawn, then think back on this day of
recreational buddy sex I've just enjoyed. It was so hot with those two and
it'll be fun telling Robby about it and hearing the version Dodger tells
him... haha. Hey, did Robby text me? I get out of bed and dig my cell phone
from the pocket of my sweatpants and see two texts from Robby. His text:
"We won the game. Hope you had a nice time with Dodger, can't wait to hear
about it. Love you! Robby" Nice! Then three other texts: one from Connor,
one from Chubby, and one from my mom... they all basically said "Hi, love
ya."  That's what it boils down to; it's nice being remembered so I feel
good about that. The last text is another one from Robby that was sent a
half hour ago, it reads: ''Hahahaha! Dodger texted me the details of his
and Vinnie's 'double fuck of your ass'. That should hold ya until my
shoulder heals. Love you and miss you! Robby" Well, it wasn't quite a
double fuck of my ass, but that's the way Dodger probably has it fixed in
his mind by now, heehee. Kind of awkward explaining to Robby that Dodger
wasn't able to perform in his attempt to do the double fuck on me because
if I tell Robby that Dodger's dick was too short, it'll seem like I'm
dissing on four inch dicks, and Robby happens to have one himself. That
fuckin' Dodger though... in his mind he probably believes it went the way
he described to his brother; Vinnie's probably been brainwashed into
thinking that too by now. Haha. The double fuck was volcanically HOT!
Vinnie's boner squashed against mine up Dodger's stretched ass... oh man! I
text everyone back with short messages that say basically: 'I miss and love
you too, except I leave out the 'love' word in mt text to Connor because I
don't want to mislead him.

With that taken care of I turn out the light and get ready for sleep. I'm
feeling good... tired, happy, and good. I fall asleep, but don't know for
how long because someone lands on top of me, yelling,"You're not asleep
already, are you?" It's Chubby, of course. He didn't turn the light on, but
I'd recognize him under any circumstances, even waking from a sound sleep
in the middle of the night with no lights on. I mumble, "Chubby, what the
fuck?" as I get an arm around him. He's fully dressed laying on top of me
breathing his beer breath in my face, saying, "I ran into a couple of guys
after work and we had a little beer party at Travis' place. No liquor
involved, thank God! I wouldn't want a repeat of last Saturday night, fer
sure!" I go, "Or last Sunday either." He goes, "Yeah, that's what I meant
'cause Saturday night was cool, but the hangover Sunday was a humongous
bitch to deal with." I ask, "Why are you here, and what time is it?" He's
rubbing my head with both hands, a massage type thing, muttering, "Why am I
here? What the fuck kind of question is that?" I go, "You just answered my
question with two questions of your own. That's not actually telling me
anything." Chubby kisses my forehead, laying fully on me, chest to chest,
his face six inches from mine, and if I hadn't had at least three great
climaxes today I'd probably be sprouting a nice boner about now. Chubby
says, "Details, you're always concerned with details." I chuckle, then say,
"Would you please, for the love of God, brush your teeth." He jumps up,
tons of energy like usual, saying, "Right away, Dylan, anything for my
favorite person on this particular planet." He bumps into the night stand,
muttering, "Don't ya ever turn the lights on around here?" He's a little
drunk, but nothing like last Saturday night. I turn on the night stand
light and look at the alarm clock there: it's two-o-five. Chubby goes, "Ah,
and then there was light," as he goes into my bathroom, leaving the door
open as usual, and I hear his piss hit the toilet water. He pisses for like
forever, going, "Ahhhh, relief!" Beer pisses can go on for quite awhile
because when you get into drinking beer and BS'ing with friends you don't
think to take a piss until you're halfway between this place and that one,
and ya got no place to pee. After the long pee I hear my electric
toothbrush go on, then later a lot of gargling, then a lot of water
splashing so I guess he's washing his hands and face. I'd have done the
hand washing before brushing my teeth, but that's just me.

Finished cleaning up, Chubby comes back to the bedroom taking off his
shirt, "I'm sleeping with you again, Dylan, but none of what happened the
last time. Okay?" I go, "Absolutely!" Then, "To what do I owe this honor?"
He steps out of his sneakers and takes down his sweatpants, throwing
everything on the floor, muttering, "I miss ya, that's why, ya nut. Why
else would I sleep with you?" He always makes me smile. Not that he's
especially funny all the time, although he can be; it's just being with him
that makes me smile, and the way he's so sure of himself, or at least gives
the appearance of being sure of himself. I love sleeping with Chubby
anytime, it makes me feel good... I feel complete when we sleep together,
and I say that even though I know he won't be doing anything particularly
sexy. It's too soon after my reunion sleep-over with him, but because this
is the second time in two weeks he's initiated a sleep-over on his own, I
take that as an encouraging sign. An encouraging 'sign' of what I don't
exactly know, but it's encouraging all the same. The eternal optimist,
that's me. Stripped down to his boxer shorts, Chubby's hopping on one foot
pulling off his sock, muttering, "There's gotta be a smarter way to do
this..." The sock comes off and he throws it near where he threw his
sweatpants, then the other sock gets thrown in the same direction and now
he's back on two feet holding his arms up like he accomplished something
difficult. He goes, "Success!" His body is almost perfect! Every part of
him perfectly in proportion to his five foot-seven inches. At least he
claims he's five-seven, I always thought it was more like five-six, but why
quibble over an inch. I can't see it at the moment, but I happen to know
that his dick is over four inches long, but not by much, so he'd probably
exchange the inch in height for another inch on his dick. That's just a
guess on my part because, unlike Dodger's frequent lament about his
four-inch dick, Chubby's never mentions his. Maybe he's convinced himself
it's longer, like he has with his height.

I throw back the covers, saying, "Okay, you've managed to get undressed,
now get in bed so we can get some sleep." He takes two big steps towards
the bed and launches himself at me landing half on and half off me. I
chuckle, pull the covers over us and click off the light. Chubby rustles
around getting comfortable, taking most of my pillow and about sixty
percent of my twin bed. "Comfy?" I ask sarcastically. He laughs and says,
"Can you give me a little more room so I can spread out? I like spreading
out when I sleep." I go, "That's a big fat 'NO!'" and I get him in my arms,
which is what I think he wanted, and he reshuffles around getting
comfortably against my body, mumbling, "Oh, this'll work too," then he
kisses my cheek muttering, "I love me some Dylan," I go, "Right back at ya,
dude," and kiss him on the lips, "He goes, "Dylaaan!!!" stretching out my
name as a protest to my kiss. I kiss him again and he does an exasperated,
noisy exhale, asking, "You done now?" I go, "For the moment, bro," and rub
his hair, loving the feel of him against me. "Sleep" is the last thing I
hear from him; I already said my last thing, and we go to sleep like
this... nice!

The sunlight through my bedroom window is very bright when I open my eyes
and glance at the alarm clock on the night stand. It's almost ten o'clock,
but it's a Sunday morning so there's no reason to get up yet. Chubby's
making deep-sleep breathing sounds and I get a chance to stare at my
favorite face. Chubby's another one of those boys with long, curvy
eyelashes, not the type a girl would want, but the type that I think looks
sexy on a boy. I have them too. Ah ha! Another thing Chubby and I have in
common. Our noses and our eyelashes and our bodies, hmmmm? Curiouser and
curiouser. Robby started me noticing the similarities in Chubby's and my
looks by mentioning our noses. Actually he said something about 'seeing
things in my face when he looks at Chubby's'. Chubby and I have very
different coloring though; he's got a pale tannish complection with brown
hair and bright brown eyes, like his mom actually. I've got blond hair,
when I have hair that is, and blue eyes that I've heard are sexy, but I
don't know why. I think Chubby's adorable looking and apparently the girls
agree with me. They've always been interested in Chubby and I'm not sure if
it's just his looks or if it's his A+ personality. He didn't start dating
until ten or eleven months ago, but he's always appeared to enjoy girls'
company, where I can't say the same for myself. Not that I have anything
against girls, I just don't want to have much bodily contact with them, and
the exception to that is my mom and Tris. They're awesome older girls; both
thirty-six or thirty-seven years old. Having babies when you're seventeen
means you get to have nineteen year old children at a relatively young
age. I wonder how they feel about being that old? Do they still think the
same things they thought when they were nineteen? That's a scary thought
because that means they're thinking about having sex... ooooh boy, I'm not
going there. The thought of those two with men, naked in bed... oh my God,
say it ain't so!

Chubby groans in his sleep and gropes his junk under the cover, then rolls
over against me. He'd rolled just a little away from me during the night at
some point. I run my fingers through his soft hair, then feel the half inch
hairs at the crown of his head and smile remembering when I cut it for him
this way. I did it because of times like this when I can run my fingers
over the hairs, so nice. And his haircut looks good too, and I'm glad that
I can to do that for him. I like doing anything that involves Chubby. His
skin is so smooth and youthful looking. If I look closely I can just make
out the few pale freckles across the bridge of his nose that were more
noticeable when we were kids. God, I love this boy! A life time full of
awesome memories of uncountable wonderful things we've done together
growing up. Leaning close to his head I inhale the Chubby aroma, it's so
sexy to me. I'm not going to pester him for anything sexy when he wakes up
though; no, I won't do that and maybe he'll share my twin bed with me more
often. Anyway, I was involved in three hot fucks just yesterday and while
they weren't with Robby, they still register in my brain and I'm simply not
horny at the moment. Of course I wasn't particularly horny a week ago last
Saturday morning either, but I sure enjoyed Chubby's rare sexual treat for
my homecoming. I need to go away more often 'cause the homecoming I
received after Key West was something really special! From both Robby and
Chubby, not to mention Dodger's haircut fuck... haha. Damn! Life is real
good right now. Speaking of Key West, where the fuck is that call from
Willie? No text, no nothing. I'm going to text him soon, he didn't say not
to text, did he? I don't think so. Oh well, I got Chubby sleeping with me
so to hell with Willie. I can't resist giving Chubby a light kiss on his
lips, very light so not to wake him, and that's what I do. Awesome lips on
that boy, fabulous lips for kissing; especially when he can't pull his head
away. Mmmm, a nice gentle kiss that no one sees. I couldn't help doing that
because I love him, and I'm gay, and I got no fuckin' willpower to speak
of.

The longer I watch Chubby sleep, the more the need to touch, and while I'm
rubbing the palm of my hand over his nicely formed arms he wakes up without
opening his eyes. "Is that you, Mary Jo?" he asks, trying not to
grin. "Gawd forbid!" I mutter, then kiss his forehead figuring I better get
my kisses in while I can. He says, "Dammit! It's you, Dylan," and he opens
his bright eyes with a smile on his lips, and goes, "Thank God it's you,"
and he actually kisses my lips, saying, "That'll be the extent of intimate
contact between the two of us this fine morning. What the fuck time is it
anyway?" I go, "Who cares," and start wrestling with him. I get some nice
body contact and experience lots of Chubby's personal scent, but it doesn't
last long. He worms his way out of bed, saying, "I got the shower first,"
as he walks to the bathroom, adding, "Can ya dig up something for me to
wear, Dylan?" I yell after him, "The jockey shorts I wore yesterday are
around here someplace." He does a phony laugh, "Hardy, har, har, har," and
turns the shower on. I get up and dress in clean sweat pants and a T-shirt,
no need for a shower since I had two at Dodger's yesterday. All my sweat
pants are too long for Chubby, but so are his; they come in the same length
no matter the waist size, which seems stupid. We both wear twenty-nine inch
waist; twenty-eight would probably be better except we wear them low even
though that makes the pant legs even longer for Chubby. I only have one
pair of sweat pants left here at home, they're blue with a white stripe
down the side of each leg. Clean boxers and socks, Chubby's own socks as a
matter of fact. The pair I stole from him last week, heehee. A gray
sweatshirt with "WILDWOOD" written across the chest should work. Taking all
these things I pile them on my desk, yelling into the shower, "The clothes
are on my desk, Chubby!" then make the bed and wander into the kitchen
thinking, 'orange juice'. Drinking from the quart bottle of orange juice,
I'm thinking, 'Mom won't get up until eleven at least, she was out later
than Chubby.'

Checking the vegetable bin for fruit, I'm surprised to find a quart of
strawberries, two bananas, a Jazz apple, a small plastic container of
blueberries, and a nice slice of watermelon. Fresh fruit is awesome at
breakfast. Taking everything out of the refrigerator I cut it into
bite-size pieces, except the blueberries, then scrape it all into a white
bowl and mix it up. Looks damn refreshing and yummy. Chubby comes out all
bright and shiny clean, big smile on his face, asking, "Whadda we got for
this morning's brunch?" I show him the bowl of fresh fruit and he takes the
plastic wrap off and starts popping pieces in his mouth. I grab the bowl
and recover it, putting it back in the refrigerator, "It's for fuckin'
brunch!" Then I say, "I'm going in the bathroom to brush my teeth. You
check out the refrigerator to see what's there that we can make for brunch
this morning." Chubby salutes, going, "Aye aye, captain," and I leave him
at it. When I get back Chubby's assembled eggs, Candian bacon, and
blueberry muffin mix. I go, "Scrambled eggs fer sure. Do we have any
cheese?" and Chubby holds up a block of cheddar. "Awesome," I mutter, then,
"What do you want to do?" Chubby says, "I'll whip up the muffin mix while
you're breaking the eggs into a bowl and beating the shit out of them so I
don't get any yucky white pieces in my scrambled eggs." I ask, "Any
potatoes for home fries?" Chubby says, "Good idea," and searches for that
stuff, coming up with some Red Bliss potatoes, a sweet onion and the other
half of the green pepper Connor and I used last week. It's still crisp.  We
get to work, with Chubby getting the muffin mix whipped up and into cupcake
molds, while I do the eggs in a bowl and whip them with a wire whip until
no whites are showing, then add grated cheddar cheese. We slice the block
of Canadian bacon and peel potatoes, then Chubby says, "How 'bout hash
browns today?" I nod my head, "Great idea, Emeril.  You're in charge." He
begins slicing the potatoes thin then cuts the slices into thin strips,
matchstick size, and cuts those again as I'm doing the same with an onion
and green pepper. "Just flakes of onion and green peppers in with the hash
browns; kick it up a notch," says Chubby. I mumble, "Ya got that right,
Emeril." The oven's preheated so Chubby puts the muffins in, everything
else goes in the refrigerator, and we take off for Dunkin' Donuts for
coffee. I go, "We should get a Keurig coffee maker like we have at
college." Chubby says, "We'd need to get each mom one, that's over three
hundred dollars." I'm like, "Forget I mentioned it in that case. We'll buy
them Dunkin' Donut coffees, it's cheaper."

I'm driving our Jeep, as Chubby says, "I got no hangover this morning,
aren't you proud of me?" I mutter, "Very. Are you gonna hangout with me
today?" He says, "Absolutely! Whaddaya wanna do?" I say, "How 'bout we do
our run in Parker's Park, like we used to do?" Chubby says, "That should be
interesting, we're in such great shape." I go, "We used to be!" and we make
a bet about which one of us runs the longest, a five dollar bet. I already
know I'm going to lose because Chubby will not lose five dollars; he'll die
of heat exhaustion first, although it's only about sixty degrees so there's
probably little chance of that. After our run we'll decide what we want to
do next. We don't see anyone we know in Dunkin' Donuts so we're in and out
pretty quickly, and when we get back to the condo, Tris and my mom are
sitting at the breakfast bar talking. The first thing they say is, "Here
comes the two best looking boys in the state of Massachusetts." Chubby
gives his mom a kiss, saying, "I believe that's the whole east coast, not
just Massachusetts." I kiss my mom and then Tris, asking them about their
night and, as they drink their coffee and we get back to fixing the brunch,
they tell us what they think is a hilarious time they had at some lounge
with their boyfriends. They breakup laughing while taking turns telling the
story as Chubby and I exchange glances like, "This is funny?" but we force
some chuckles just the same. Mom thinks her boyfriend is very funny and
maybe he is, but the retelling loses a lot in translation if the guy
actually is funny. Anyway, they're enjoying themselves and seem to have had
a smashing good time last night. There's a galactic chasm between what
thirty-something year old adults and nineteen year old college students
think is funny. I'm sure what we think is funny would not amuse the moms at
all, and actually would probably appall them. The exception to that are
selective jokes, ones without curse words. I tell them one that Connor told
us, the one where a guy loses five hundred dollars in one hand of poker and
drops dead. One of the poker players has to inform the dead man's wife; the
man tells her first that her husband lost five hundred dollars, and she
says that the man should tell her husband he can drop dead for all she
cares, and the man says "Okay, I'll tell him". They laughed, but I don't
think they got it. Maybe jokes isn't the humor-bridge between generations
after all.

The breakfast is excellent. Chubby and I each have two muffins and the
mom's share one, and they both have a little of everything else, exclaiming
how delicious it is.  Chubby and I eat about three-quarters of everything
we cooked. The biggest hit were the hash brown potatoes, which Chubby takes
full credit for; not only for thinking of them, but for preparing them and
frying them perfectly. Again, many compliment from the moms follow Chubby's
bragging, then Tris says, "I loved your scrambled eggs too, Dylan. The
cheese was the perfect thing to punch up the flavor". Everyone, even the
moms, scarfed down the Canadian bacon which we basically just warm up in
butter with a little brown sugar. Chubby and I insist on cleaning up after
brunch and the moms go up to Tris' condo, probably to smoke on the
balcony. We all pretend none of us smokes, except on rare
occasions. Convenient for everyone. After cleaning up we tell the moms
we're going to try our old run in Parker's Park. Then Chubby and me drive
there, then walk for a while sharing two cigarettes and talking about the
upcoming summer vacation, which we're both ready for, fer sure. Chubby and
I never run in special running gear, just whatever we normally wear. I go,
"There's the beginning of our trail. Think you can make it to the rest area
at the halfway point?" He makes a face, muttering, "Do ya mean if I run
backwards all the way? Of course I can make it." "Let's go then," I say,
and we start jogging with me running behind Chubby like I always used
did. That way I can look at him the whole way, which is what I do. It used
to take us under an hour each way, we don't have anyway of telling how far
it is. We've guessed it's anywhere from three miles each way, to six miles
each way, which would be a mile every ten minutes. That pace is probably
possible for two miles, but not five or six; we're not trained runners. We
did the run almost everyday as kids because we thought it would keep us in
good shape and it did give us some nice definition in our calf
muscles. It's more fun to do the run in shorts, but we didn't think of
that.

Halfway to the halfway point we're breathing hard. I say, "Lets smoke as we
jog," kidding of course, and Chubby blurts out a laugh, saying, "God! Did
someone extend this trail while we were away at college?" I go, "Ya wanna
give up and lose the bet?" He's like, "That'll be the day!" By the time we
make it to the halfway rest area we're doing a fast walk more than a jog,
but neither of us mentions it. As we come around the big tree that blocks
the view of the rest area I think of the marine I ran into way back when,
and it hits me like a sledgehammer that the marine was my first real
experience with being submissive. He kinda put me into the same kind of
spell Willie does at times. Man! I haven't thought of that in a couple of
years now. That marine was something, he jerked me off right over at that
bench, and other places too. I'll be dammed! My dick moves remembering
that. Chubby and I stop to catch our breath, "That was a piece of cake,"
Chubby mumbles, "I think I will run backwards on our way back; you try to
keep up with me, okay?" Then three guys with running outfits come out of
the restroom a hundred yards straight up from where we're standing. They
look like college kids and two of them notice us. One of them taps the
third guy on the shoulder nodding down at us and I get a bad feeling in the
pit of my stomach, and I don't know why that is. Intuition?


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

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