Date: Fri, 30 Oct 2015 12:21:17 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION   Chapter  24

DYLAN'S  GEORGIA VACATION


Chapter  24


by  Donny Mumford



Laying in bed together after some really good sex, Robby's  singing his
country song to me, the one where I own his heart. He heard this  song many
times while with his family at the Grand Canyon during freshman spring  break
and he thought it described our relationship. He sings the sweet, corny
country song using a western twang in a clear voice carrying the tune awesomely.
 He can sing, but he sings only to me when we're alone. I kiss him after he
sings  it, then say, "Sing it again for me, Robby," and he grins singing it
again  staring into my eyes with a tear running down my cheek. I love him
so much. Then  my cell phone rings and I ask Robby, "Should I answer that?"
He shrugs and  chuckles, "I don't care," and I look indecisive, so he says,
"Go ahead, answer  it." I get out of bed with Robby's cock flopping out of my
ass, "Oooh, mmm..."  Then, with his cum's drooling down the back of my legs
I get the phone out of my  short's pocket and see 'Chubby' on the caller ID.


"Hi, Chub, whassup?" He goes, "Bro, ha ha, we can't get rid of  these local
girls. They want us to go to some kind of hillbilly bar where they  say we
can all get served. Ya wanna come?" I'm like, "Um, oh, hillbillies huh?"  He
goes, "It'll probably make for a great story to tell the grandchildren,
it's  something we don't get a chance to experience back home. Oh... wait a
minute, bro,  fucking Spider's locked in the bathroom with big tits. I gotta call
you back..."  The phone goes dead. "What's Jeff want?" I shrug, "There's a
hillbilly bar that  supposedly serves underage, um, hillbillies, I guess."
Robby's like, "We're  staying in tonight, Dylan." I nod, "Okay," and hit
Chubby's cellphone number. It  rings only twice before Chubby answers, laughing,
then says, "Never mind, bro.  Spider got the truth from big tits Debby. It's
her uncle's garage. One of those  unlicensed speakeasy places like Tracy's,
only much dumpier. Ya wanna come up  here with us and have some beers? We're
on the second floor, room 212." I say,  "Um, I'd like to, but Robby and me
need to catch up, and anyway aren't we going  to that fair tomorrow morning?
Shouldn't you be getting some sleep?" I hear a  clunk, like he dropped his
phone, then more laughing and a girl giggling.  Rolling my eyes at Robby, he
asks, "What?" I point at the phone shrugging, "I  don't know, there's some
kind of ruckus going on in their room." Chubby gets  back on the phone
chuckling, "Okay, bro, we'll catch up with you guys tomorrow.  Love ya!" I'm
like, "Yeah, okay, bye."


Getting back in bed with Robby, I mumble, "Chubby has so much  energy. Him
and Spider are fucking round with giggling girls in a room above us,  number
212. Thank god I don't need to depend on giggling girls." Robby grins,
"Yeah, but didn't you ever wonder what it'd be like to do it with a girl?" I
go,  "No," and he says, "Me neither. Dodger and I had each other for as long
as I  remember. Girls never entered the picture. I like girls as friends
though, don't  you?" Shrugging I go, "If they're not giggling all the time. I
don't remember a  boy giggling all the time, do you?" Robby asks, "What about
Marc Stork?" Back in  bed, snuggling against Robby, I'm like, "Oh yeah, but
he was a very girlie gay  boy who always hung-out with girls to start with,
so I never thought of Marc as  a guy."


We're quiet for a minute with Robby's slowly rubbing his hand  up the back
of my head, then he hugs me, murmuring, "Ya know, it was awful hard  hearing
all the things you told me about you and Ryan, or Albert, whatever his
name is." We've pretty much beat this topic to death already and I'd rather not
 discuss it further, so I mumble, "Just wanted to be honest with you, Rob,
that's  all." Silence for another minute, then he goes, "Well, can't you at
least tell  him you don't want this haircut anymore? I don't like it at
all!" Balls! It went  so well while I was confessing everything initially, but
now Robby's had time to  think about it. I don't say anything and he asks,
"Would you fly home with me  tomorrow if I insisted? After all, we are
unofficially engaged." Oh man. Hmmm, I  say, "I can't break my promise to Ryan,
Rob. A guy's only as good as his word,  ya know? Anyway, I'm going to tell him
all the plans he and I were considering  are off." Robby's sort of quietly
mumbling to himself now, "Even if you came  home, when would I see you? At
least you wouldn't be with him though, and it's  not that I don't like Ryan,
it's that I don't like him being me with you, ya  know?" I ask, "Was there a
question somewhere in there?" and he's like, "I don't  know, Dylan. Maybe a
question for myself." I crawl on top of him supporting  myself with a hand
on either side of him looking down into his eyes, our bare  crotches pressed
together, "In five weeks this will be just a fading memory,  Robby, and then
we'll be together again and this time forever. We can get  engaged again if
you want, although we really don't need to because we both know  we're
riding off into the sunset together, like yippie ki-yay, mothafucka, or  however
that goes" He smiles, "Promise?" and I say, "Yep, I promise," and kiss
him, adding, "I'm getting another boner 'cause my naked dick's next to  yours."


Robby's grinning, "I love being with you. I've wondered to  myself if
there's anything you could do that I couldn't forgive. Murder: no  problem, pay a
hit man to knock me off: obviously a misunderstanding and  therefore no
problem, spend the summer with another lover, no problem... like  that." I'm
chuckling, "I'm probably not gonna kill anybody or hire someone to  kill you.
Those are two very unlikely scenarios. As far as spending times with  Ryan,
you don't have anything to worry about there either. It took only an hour
being with you for me to know all those 'maybe' plans with him aren't going to
happen." We kiss and before long we're into another intense make-out. It's
almost violent the way we're kissing and rolling around basically wrestling
with  dueling boners. Finally I'm on my stomach and Robby's boner is up my
ass. Oh  yeah, I know I'm in for a hard fucking. "Slap,slap, slap, slap!"
sounds so loud  they're surely heard in the rooms on either side our ours.
We're grunting and  sweating with me humping up into his hard fast thrust for
seven, eight, ten  minutes or more. Robby's pulling my hips up slamming his
boner up my ass. I stop  humping back and let Robby pound my ass with that
fat hard cock of his. He's  gasping and groaning along with the,
"Slap,slap,slap,slap," sounds ringing in my  ears. My face is in the pillow and I'm
biting it with a million sensations  vibrating from my rectum, my anus is
sizzling with awesome sexual vibes and  Robby's on a mission to fuck a second
orgasm out of me. And then my orgasm comes  on me like the big climax of a roller
coaster ride... whooooa!  My stomach's  in my throat as I gasp, then squeal
with cum pumping up from my hard nuts in  three short spurts. Small spurts
that feels like a waterfall of cum flying out  of my six inch boner. Then
another almost painful spurt of cum and I'm limp as  Robby moans humping against
my buttocks shooting his small second orgasm up my  ass.


Deep breathing into my sweat soaked pillow as Robby collapses  on my back,
his heart hammering against my spine and him gasping out moist  breaths, the
moist air spraying the back of my neck and head. Robby's body is  squishy
with perspiration as he slides off my back pulling his flaccid cock from  my
ass. He's laying next to me on his stomach as he puts his arm over my back
while using his other arm to pull the covers up to the back of our necks. He
 kisses the side of my face, murmuring, "Good night, Dylan," and I go to
sleep  laying in my own cum, sweaty and thinking about the awesome fuck Robby
just laid  on my ass. Huh, 'I wonder if he fucked me bowlegged?' That's my
last thought  before sleep overtakes me at almost two o'clock in the morning.


Waking up Saturday morning I'm disoriented for only a second  or two before
remembering everything, then being happy my true love boyfriend is  here in
bed with me. I'm also glad I only had three beers last night and  therefore
I'm feeling really good this morning. Robby's still sleeping so I do  what
I always do when waking up next to someone I love, I stare at his face
wondering how it is I'm lucky enough to wake-up next to him. I can't remember
the last time I woke-up next to Ryan, although I know I have at times. Not
many  times, but a few. I've woken-up next to Willie twenty or thirty times in
my life  and while he's very attractive and sexy, he can't compare with
Robby. No  one can except Chubby, but I haven't slept with him more than a
couple of times  in the last year or two. I used to though, and when I'd wake-up
before Chubby I  loved studying his face. Of course I love everything about
Chubby, not just his  face. I like everything about Robby too, plus we make
love in the truest sense  although I'm not exactly sure what to call last
night's love-making. Maybe it  was Robby getting his frustration of Albert
and Danny out of his system with a  wild hard fuck on my ass. You know what? I
give Robby credit for realizing even  if I were home we'd see little of
each other. Will it be like that when we're  married though? Will Robby be a
workaholic like his dad? He admires his dad so  maybe he might emulate him
without even realizing it. Hmmm, if so I'll support  him and... and I guess I
really don't know how that would work.


Here's what I know: I love sleeping with Robby and after doing  it through
our freshman and sophomore years at Merrimack it's become wonderfully
familiar for both of us and it feels just right. It's perfect actually. Oh man,
Robby's so fucking good looking. That was the first thing I thought of when
I  saw him at the airport coming up the tunnel. He's unbelievably good
looking.  He's becoming a handsome young man, but in a cute way too. Some lucky
guys  retain a certain boyish cuteness even as they age. Robby's one of them
and I  modestly include myself in that group. Everyone says we're a very
attractive  couple. Ha ha, I'm a little vain... ha ha, that thought makes me grin
and do a  little chuckle to myself. With his eyes still closed, Robby
grins, asking,  "What's so funny?" I ask, "Do you remember who you fucked and
then slept with  late last night?" He mumbles, "I'm thinking! Give me a
minute." Grinning, I say,  "I'll give you a clue. You were once engaged to me," and
he goes, "Okay then,  that narrows it down some. What color eyes do you
have?" I climb on his back,  saying, "Maybe if I fuck you you'll recognize my
dick." He says, "Okay, lets try  that," and I move my limp penis against his
firm bubble buttocks for fifteen  seconds with Robby murmuring, "That penis
of your's feels good,  stranger."


My heart rate increases as I lay on him, still squirming my  hardening cock
on his firm buttocks while kissing the side of his face. It's a  half
minute wet kiss while inhaling his scent. My cock gets hard and I lift my  hips
reaching down to guide my boner to his asshole. Then a little humps forces
the head past his sphincter muscle. His head jerks up off the pillow a little
 with both of us grunting, "Aaah, oooh." I slowly push my boner up his
rectum  until I'm gasping, red in the face, and feeling as if I'm going to
climax.  Another gasp from me as my shoulders do their little shudder, then a
long exhale  as I settle down on Robby. I'm laying completely on him from head
to toes,  docked with his asshole. "Oooh," moans Robby, "That feels good,
Dylan, sooo  good." Nice having my boner's in his ass instead of the other way
around. As  good as it feels fully laying on Robby's back with my cock
snuggling inside him,  my hips instinctively and seemingly on their own, move
back pulling my boner  upwards with a sizzling shiver running down my spine.
"Aaaah," from me as my  cock slides tightly backwards in his rectum, and then
my hips move down pushing  my boner right up Robby's ass again, and I do it
twice more with both of us  moaning, "Mmmmm, oooh!" I didn't even need to
think about it, it just happened.  It makes my boyfriend moan too, so I do
some more thrusting, joining in  with some moans of my own.

Getting a hand on the mattress, one on each side of Robby, I  lift up again
and get my hips rhythmically moving my boner up and back in  Robby's ass
with incredible sensations flying off my pulsating penis. Robby  scrunches his
ass up a little and it becomes a full blown runaway fucking,  "Slap, slap,
slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds while the head of my cock buzzes  with
astounding waves of sexual pleasure. It's truly indescribable and it's all  I can
think about. Robby's squirming on the mattress under me dealing with his
own sexual sensations, but it gets harder and harder for me to be think about
 that as I get closer and closer to climaxing. "Slapslapslap," and my
whines  of desire that grow and grow making my hips hump faster and faster,
harder and  harder. I'm shaking now with my eyes clenched closed as we both moan
in our  worlds of sexual pleasure. My boner's a wooden pole somehow alive
with a million  nerve endings pouring pleasure notes to my brain as my balls
sing along hot and  hard at the top of my scrotum ready to blow. The head of
my cock swells and gets  harder the more I hammer it up his ass until I'm
biting my bottom lips groaning  at the unbelievable pleasure I'm feeling and
the exertion of humping my boner  back and forth inside this amazingly
wonderful place known as Robby's rectum.  With my climax almost on me I stop
thinking about myself for a second realizing  it's Robby I'm doing this sex act
with. My eyes open and I look at him wreathing  in sexual pleasure on the bed
under me, humping back at my thrusting and tears  come to my eyes. Such
awesome pleasure to share with him as I squeal leaning  against his buttocks,
my arms tightly around his chest as I hump against those  two firm buttocks
mounds shooting what feels like a long stream of creamy  youthful spunk into
his bowels. Robby's grunting and wildly humping against  the mattress as
another three or four shots of cum tantalizes my cock as the  spunk moves up
and out into Robby's body.


Then I'm doing slower thrusts in Robby's creamy asshole, my  cock sliding
back and forth smoothly in my slippery goo. Oh it's such a nice  afterglow
all around my stomach, groin, and high up the inside of my thighs. It  all
begins fading fast though and then I mostly feel tired and lay back down on
his back where I started. Heavy breathing of course and then we're just two
sweaty lovers coming down off pleasure mountain. One last deep breath and I
ask,  "Isn't there any air conditioning in this friggin' place?" Robby rolls
over and  I go, "Aaaah," as my cock pulls from his ass. Robby's laying on my
side of the  bed now, asking, "Why is your sheet scratchy?" I go up on my
elbow, mumbling,  "Dried semen," and he smiles, "It was nice waking-up a
little while ago to your  wet semen, Dylan. You know, I like when you take the
aggressor role. It makes me  feel desired." I trace a finger across Robby's
right eyebrow, "You have good  eyebrows, Rob," and he laughs, "Only you would
notice my eyebrows. What makes  them good?" I say, "Well, nature makes the
best formed eyebrows. Women try to  duplicate eyebrows like you have by
plucking their own but without a lot of  success. Your's are thin and perfectly
shaped and a nice shade of light brown.  Perfectly formed, perfect
everything. I wish I had them." He laughs out loud  again, then asks, "Do you think
this kind of stuff up ahead of time?" I go,  "Absolutely not! I'm an
extemporaneous complimenter." He's still chuckling, "You  are so much fun to be
with. I love you!"

We grin while exchanging compliments until it gets silly, "I  think your
toes are perfect, Dylan. You have perfect toes." I go, "I know that!  Everyone
tells me I have the best toes they've ever seen, especially my middle  toes
that aren't longer than the rest. There's snickering behind the backs  of
people that have long middle toes, but none of that for me." Finally, tired
of our silliness, we get out of bed at a little after ten o'clock and do our
 bathroom stuff. Robby's taking a piss as I'm washing my hands and face,
then  brushing my teeth. He flushes the toilet, saying, "We desperately need
to shower  but you should probably do my haircut first." All the barber
stuff's laid out  from last night near the door of our room, but I don't want to
miss shampooing  his awesome hair. Robby sits in the desk chair I dragged
into the bathroom,  facing away from the sink. I use a plastic cup, refilling
it repeatedly, to wet  his hair. Adding shampoo I'm working it through his
hair as Robby says, "I love  when you do this," so I get back in a silly
frame of mind saying, "Then I'll do  it for you whenever I can, and then all the
time when we're married. I'll be the  shampoo flunky either in the shower
together or before you shower in the morning  getting ready for work." He
snorts, "Riiight, I'm so sure," and I go, "No, seriously. Hey, maybe some of
my  duties for you as the head of our household will include not only
shampooing  your hair but bathing you in the tub too. You know, you just lay there
and I do  all the work." He says, "Yes, me being head of the household I
deserve that sort  of treatment. Dress and undress me too, like we talked about
last night."  I go, "Yeah, I could be the stay at home dad, and also your
servant. I'll be fixing your meals, taking your clothes to the cleaners,
polishing your shoes." he goes, "Oh yes, we should definitely do this. You'll
have all day to take care of most of those chores, then when  I get home
from work you'll wait on me hand and foot." We're joking, but I  wouldn't mind
doing that. I like touching attractive young  guys.


My fingers ooze through all the  shampoo in his dense two-tone blond hair
as I say, "Plus of course I'll  basically be the babies' servant as well.
I'll be so busy it'll cut into my time  to shoot pool." We both laugh, then I
lean my head down and kiss his lips, "I  love you, Rob, and I'm so glad you
came to visit. You straightened me out. Just  being with you cleared my head
of all my speculations about Albert." He goes, "I  was reading between the
lines in your texts and emails. Talking to you on the  phone too, so I knew
what was happening. How many years have we both  acknowledged you've had this
propensity to follow that 'love the one you're  with' approach?" I go,
"That's a song ya know, or those words are in a song by  some grandfather band."
He mumbles, "Nicely avoiding the point,  babe."


As I'm using many cups of water rinsing his hair as, he says,  "Um, Dylan,
as I was saying, I hope you're not going to go back to Ryan's house  and
immediately start making the same plans with him all over again. You won't  do
that, right?" I stop rinsing and say nothing until he looks up, asking,
"What?" and I go, "How could you ask me that? That's insulting to me, as well
as  to my amazing will power." He shrugs, "Amazing will power? You?  I just,
you know, I mean that's what you did the first month you were here."
Filling the  cup with water again, I go, "That's because I hadn't see you for so
long and  Ryan was being so, um, good that I got, um, off track. Yeah, I got
off track a  little." He says, "Not to press the point, but you'll be with
him for another  five weeks without seeing me, right? So..." Pouring the next
cup of water mostly  on the side of his face, I say, "Yeah, but now I'm not
off track." He sputters blowing some  water spray in the air, mumbling, "Oh,"
and I say, "Seriously, I got my shit  together now, Rob. You my man, dude!"
He shakes his head chuckling, "Yeah, okay.  How about you come home to
visit me in two weeks, three at  the most. How about if you plan on that?" I
almost say, 'I'll ask Ryan if I can,  but catch myself and say instead, "I'd
hate to let the team down,  the Marietta town baseball team." I'm roughly
towel drying  Robby's hair. When I'm done, he says, "You're a bench player who
hasn't been in  a single game yet. And what's more you're missing today's
game." Instead of  responding to that I turn on the noisy hairdryer and run a
comb through his hair  drying it the rest of the way while thinking about
what he said.


When his hair is so dry it crackles with electricity I turn  off the
hairdryer, and say, "You're right, Rob. Okay, I promise to spend a  weekend home
in two or three weeks from now. I wanna see my mom too." He say,  "You
promise, really?" and I say, "Yes, I promise! What the fuck?" Huh, Ryan  will be
pissed off of course, but then he'll already be pissed off when I tell  him
how strongly I feel about Robby and me forever. I'll sugar coat it with much
praise for Ryan and reinforce that I love him too, but nothing can change
my  mind about Robby. We've been together too long and we mean too much to
each  other for anything to come between us, not in any kind of permanent way.
And,  I've been basically saying that same thing to Ryan most of the time
I've been  here. Well, the first two weeks for sure.  And it happens to be
the fucking  truth too! I kiss Robby, "Maybe I will change my name to your's
when we're  married, or maybe hyphenate it. What do you think about that?"
He's standing up,  mumbling, "That seems so unimportant to me now, it's
totally your choice, babe."  Following him into the bedroom, pulling the desk
chair behind me, I'm saying,  "In the light of day I see that all our plans
still seem like good ones, don't  ya think, Rob? The plans you outlined for me
when we got engaged." He says,  "That engagement was silly of me, Dylan.
Immature at best and probably stupid.  We'll make our plans when it's closer to
the time we tie the knot, so to  speak."


Robby sits back down in the chair over near the door now. Last  night I
relocated a lamp and small end table over here at the tile entranceway.  The
clippers and barbering stuff are still on the little table. Combing through
his hair, I say, "After carefully considering a flat top haircut for you,
I've  decided it's too retro for a person of your stature, Rob. You're a
businessman,  sort of, so you need a more serious hair style. Flat top haircuts
when we were  young, that was fun, but you need something different." He turns
his head to  look at me, "Along that same lines, will you please promise me
you'll insist  Ryan stops doing that haircut on your head? You shouldn't
have another haircut  of any kind for the remainder of the summer." Oooh, that
might be a problem. I  say, "Robby, I'm living in Ryan's house and I sort
of promised certain things,  ya know? Anyway what'd I just say about a person
keeping his word?" He shakes  his head as I'm mumbling, "What's wrong with
this haircut anyway? Spider said it  was cool." Robby waves the back of his
hand at me, saying, "Whatever! When  you're home for good in August I'm back
in charge of your haircuts. Period!"  Ooh, yeah, that's the way to be Rob!
I say, "That's a deal," which is one more  thing Ryan's going to be pissed
off about. I'll save that bit of information for  later, like back at
Merrimack.


I'm finally sure of myself that it's Robby and me forever, but  that
doesn't mean Ryan's a shit. The past month he's changed and come to mean a  lot to
me and I hope to keep him as my friend. Going home for a visit will get
Ryan mad, but hey, wait a minute! Ryan and I agreed on me having a visit home
sometime during the summer. That's in our unwritten contract, so I ask,
"What  should I do Rob, come home in two weeks or three?" he says, "Three weeks
would  be better because I won't see you while you're in Wildwood with your
family, so  you come home for a weekend three weeks from now. After then
you'll have two  more weeks here in Marietta and one week in Wildwood so
that'll be another three  weeks before we see each other again. Break it up a
little and maybe I won't go  insane missing you." I mumble, "That's sweet, Rob,
the insane part I mean. And  I've figured out what haircut to give you
now." He shrugs, "Sure,  babe."

I cut his hair exactly like Ryan's. Short but not real short.  For example,
all the hairs are plenty long enough to lay down and give that  'full'
look, the mature look. The bangs will be a little shorter so they can be
casually flipped them up in front or brush them to the side. It's a much more
mature-looking version of my all time favorite haircut for cute teenage boys,
only for them the hair is cut a lot shorter. So, that's the haircut I give
Robby  using mostly scissors that cut through his clean dry hair, "Scrunch,
scrunch,  scrunch." Finally done his haircut, after dragging it out as long
as I could  because I love doing it for Robby, I'm studying how it looks as I
use the  trimmer clippers outlining around his ears. Huh! I'm thinking the
haircut looks  better on Ryan. I think that's because he has those two lazy
cowlicks on either  side of his hairline in front and they sort of hold the
bangs up in a natural  fashion. Robby's hair is very straight and I'd need a
little gel on the front  hairs. Still, when he checks himself out in the
mirror Robby likes it although  he doesn't rave about it like Ryan did. I fuss
with Robby hair, combing it this  way and that before deciding to cut the
bangs shorter so they aren't flipped up  in front. He likes this better, so
it's all good. A no fuss hair style that  looks kinda macho. Robby, on the
other hand, is concerned about more important  things than his hair. When I
ruffle my fingers back though his hair it falls  back in place. I say, "Sexy
boy, Rob. You look so fucking sexy and macho." Robby  shrugs mumbling,
"Thanks, Dylan, but I can't get the job off my mind. Today is  the first day I've
missed a meeting about the big project." I say, Only one  meeting, get real!
Check yourself out again in the mirror." He does as he runs  his fingers
through his hair, "Yeah, it's good, Dylan, then he looks at me, "And  now you
tell me I'm not allowed to shave, right?" I go, "Not when I'm around  you're
not. You need to get one of those beard trimmers and keep your beard neat
and short, ya know, like you haven't shaved for two days." He chuckles, "My
beard, ha ha, right." I rub his chin hairs then kiss him trying to feel his
pale  blond mustache, but the hairs are too soft to detect. For now they
are anyway.  They look cool though.


We hop in the shower together and wash ourselves while  purposely bumping
into one another grinning like nine year old boys splashing  around in a
backyard plastic blow-up pool. I think there's a 'completeness' to  life we both
feel when we're together. I can't describe it but I sense it even  when we
might disagree about something. Maybe it's corny to say 'completeness',  but
the only thing I can compare it to is the way I always feel when me and
Chubby are together, and that's really saying something! No one can ever be in
 my heart and soul like Chubby is, but the fact I can even mention Robby in
the  discussion tells me all I need to know about who should be my life
partner, my  head of the household, my 'man', or whatever the current term is
for me when we  get married. Robby makes me  happy just looking at him or
listening to his voice. We have  traveled through many ups and downs on our
journey to find true love together,  and if this isn't true love I can't
imagine what else it could be. After drying  ourselves we're in the bedroom
getting dressed thinking  about the rest of the day. Robby asks if Ryan said
anything to me about southern  country fairs. I go, "Not really. All he said was
that summer fairs are rare in  Georgia because it's too fucking hot here in
the  summer."


Robby starts to pull on a short sleeve Polo golf shirt but  stops halfway
because there's a raucous pounding on our door. We look at each  other, then
Robby goes to the window to peek outside. He grins, "It's your crazy
brother and even crazier Spider." Robby takes the chain off and opens the  door...
in burst a cyclone of whirling energy. Chubby's carry a bag of something
as he hugs me and we do a quick kiss, mumbling, "Good morning, bro," to each
other. Then he goes, "Spider's got coffee and donuts so we get the day
started  correctly with a healthy breakfast, the most important fucking meal of
the day.  I don't subscribe to that belief myself, by the way, but you
know...." Spider's  taking out cardboard cups of coffee and a box of Krispy Cream
donuts from his  bag while Chubby's bag is full of t-shirts. As we all grab
a coffee and donut  Chubby pulls a t-shirts out of his bag, saying, "We saw
this cool t-shirt shop  when we were getting this excellent breakfast,
compliments of Spider. The  t-shirts are compliments of me." He throws Robby a
t-shirt telling him, "You're  much too dressed-up for a country fair, Rob,
try this on." Robby holds up the  t-shirt that reads on the front, 'I refuse
to engage in a battle of wits with  an unarmed person!' I put my coffee down,
finish my delicious donut and look  in Chubby's bag pulling out a bright
green t-shirt that has on the front, 'So  far this is the oldest I've ever
been!' Ha ha! Putting that down, I choose  an orange tee that says, 'When I was
a kid I used to... no wait. I still do  that!'  I'm putting that one on as
Chubby pulls his Merrimack t-shirt  over his head and puts a t-shirt on that
reads, 'I'm not a gynecologist, but  I'll take a look'.


We're all laughing, then I ask, "How much did these things  cost?" Chubby
goes, "Buy one for $25.00 and get one free." Spider deadpans, "Or  another
way of looking at it would be to say they cost $12.50 each." He puts a  black
tee on that reads, 'I hate being bipolar!' Then under that is,  'No, wait!
It's awesome!'  We chuckle, bipolar indeed. After we  thanks the boys for
breakfast and t-shirts, we go outside to have a cigarette. I  say, "Chub, I
expected you two night owls to be wicked hungover this morning."  Spider goes,
"We're still drunk. Our hangovers should explode in our heads  around lunch
time," and Chubby goes, "Yeah, unless we can head the  fuckers off by
drinking more before the hangover can take hold. Of course  that'll mean
tomorrow's gonna be a total bitch," and he bumps fists with Spider  who mumbles,
"Dude!" I ask about the country fair and Spider tells us, "Dude, I  haven't been
to this fair in like ten years so if it blows don't blame me. It  could
have changed or maybe as a kid I thought it was cool, when in fact it blew
back then too." Robby says, "With a ringing endorsement like that I can't wait
to get there."

They tell us about the girls from last night and the garage  bar they
eventually went to after the case of beer was gone. All I can think of  as I
listen to their description of last night is, I hope to god they're
exaggerating. Robby asks how long of a drive is it to the fair and Chubby says,  "Never
mind that now, we're not going anyplace until my bro gives me the haircut
he promised." and Spider goes, "Me too, Dylan, if you're willing to tackle
this  head of hair." Spider has big hair, lots of light brown hair that's
wavy and  worn sort of free style. I ask, "What do you call that hairdo of
your's,  Spider?" He shrugs, "Um, maybe 'bed hair'," and I go, "Or hat hair,"
and he  says, "I cut it myself for important occasions." Chubby puts his arm
across  Spider's shoulders, saying, "My main man here hasn't had any recent
important  occasions, but he's proclaimed the return to his childhood summer
fair as one,  therefore the need for a haircut. Also he wants to look good
in case he runs  into anyone he knew from his pre-teen years." I nod my head,
asking, "What the  fuck's your real name, Spider?" He goes, "Joseph
Tuddle," and Chubby says, "So,  obviously the nickname Spider." Robby and I shake
our heads slowly at each other  with me saying, "Oh, yeah, obviously."


Robby says, "While you guys are fucking around with the  haircut I'll take
the car and fill up the tank, plus I need smokes. Any of you  guys need
anything?" I shrug and Spider ask Chubby, "Do we have enough rubbers,  Jeff?"
Chubby says, "Joseph lived in the south during his formative years, thus  the
word rubber. He means condoms, and yes we could use some." Robby chuckles,
"You can also get 'em yourself. I'm too shy to buy condoms." Spider's like,
"You  don't use condoms?" and Robby actually blushes. Chubby says, "That's
private  information, Spider. Maybe he uses a diaphragm." We laugh and I ask
Spider, "How  many times a day do you jerk off, Joseph? I mean, since we're
getting personal."  He laughs, "Eight times a day, why?" I go, "No reason.
Um, what kind of haircut  do you want?" and we go inside as Robby heads off
for the rental car wearing his  'battle of wits' t-shirt.


In our motel room Chubby says, "I like that haircut you gave  Rob." We skip
the shampoos since they both did that during their showers an hour  ago. As
I'm doing Chubby's haircut I'm feeling a little bummed-out because
Spider's watching and I don't feel comfortable showing my brother the affection  I
usually do during his haircuts. I've been giving Chubby haircuts since we
were  both eight or nine years old and it's still special for me... kinda
intimate. He  has a really nice head of brown hair on a perfectly shaped head, so
any haircut  looks good on him. This one is no exception and I think he
looks cool and hot  and sexy and cute. I hug his shoulders when I'm done and
then kiss the side of  his forehead enjoying his special one-of-a-kind scent. I
used to dream of Chubby  and me living together forever. My memories of
when we were young and a clique  of two are my happiest memories of all time.
Alas, we needed to get our drivers  license and so at age seventeen we got
summer jobs and it's never been the same  since. Chubby gets up, saying, "I
like this haircut, bro, thanks!" and another  hug as Spider's saying, "You
brothers are a tad closer than my brother and me.  He thinks I'm an asshole and
I know he is!" Chubby says, "We're identical twins  basically, Dylan and
me." Spider goes, "Oh yeah, you're identical all right! Any  fool can see
that." I shrug, saying, "We're also the closest best friends and  brothers the
world has ever known." Spider sits down grinning, "That's obvious,  Dylan,
totally obvious."


Running my fingers through Spider's awesome head of hair, I  say, "Light
brown hair has always been my favorite. You're lucky." He says,  "Really, I
always thought I'd like to be a blond and have more fun." I go, "I'm  betting
you already have more than your share of fun. What kind of haircut do  you
want?" He asks, "Seriously, how do you think I'd look with a buzz haircut?
I've never had one, not even as a kid." I shrug, "You're a cool looking guy,
Spider, and you have lots of hair, but it's not dense so I'd advise you, in
my  semi-professional capacity, against a buzz cut. And I say that even
though I  love giving buzz haircuts." Chubby's laughing, saying, "Give him a
buzz anyway,"  and Spider chuckles, mumbling, "You prick, Jeff. What should I
get, Dylan?"  Combing through his hair I go, "Um, a regular preppy haircut
with a part."  Chubby says, "And a pompadour." I go, "No pompadour! They're
from the fifties or  maybe the sixties." Spider takes my advise and when I'm
done with the haircut he  looks at himself in the mirror, muttering, "I look
like a fag," then adds, "No  offense intended." Chubby shakes his head,
asking, "How the fuck could any gay  person take offense at that, Joseph?"
Spider laughs, "No, really, I didn't mean  anything negative, um, I mean towards
you, Dylan." I go, "No problem, Spider."  He's still looking at himself in
the mirror apparently not loving his preppy  look." I ask, "Do you want to
try the buzz cut instead?"


He does 'cause he had his heart set on it. When I've cut all  his hair to
half an inch he looks at himself in the mirror and says, "I like it  because
I look like a bad ass, except I don't recognize myself." Actually it  looks
alright, so I say, "Ya know, you were right to go with the buzz cut,
Spider. It gives you a tough, um, 'spider' look, a Spiderman kind of  thing." He's
running his fingers over his head, "Whaddaya think, Jeff?" Chubby  goes,
"You look fine, Spiderman. Lets get the fuck outta here," and I go, "Wait  a
minute! Help me clean all this hair." We get most of it in the little trash
can. There's a plastic bag liner in the trash can and I bring the plastic
liner  with all the cut hairs outside with me and toss it in the dumpster. We
smoke  another cigarette waiting for Robby to get back. Chubby's ragging on
Spider's  buzz-cut unmercifully getting all three of us laughing and rubbing
Spider's  head. He looks about four years younger and I think he's kinda
cute now in a  strange sort of way. The way a baby monkey is cute, or a baby
alligator. There's  nothing cute about baby spiders.


Robby returns amazed at how much cheaper cigarettes are in  Georgia.
"They're like half priced, but still not what I'd call cheap." Spider  says, "My
grandfather says he remembers when cigarettes were like thirty-five  cents a
pack. Then, two years ago he was in New York City and paid something  like
$14.00 a pack." Chubby's like, "Your grandfather still smokes?" and Spider
says, "Yeah, up until he was diagnosed with emphysema last December, although
he  still sneaks them when grandma isn't looking. He told me the good thing
about  emphysema is he lost eighty pounds. He used to be ginormous and now
he's just  fat." Robby goes, "I like your haircut, Jeff," and Chubby says,
"Yeah, I'm  starting a trend." I'm like, "Ah, I believe starting a trend
requires you having  the haircut first, bro." Chubby chuckles, mumbling, "Always
with the fucking  details." Robby rubs Spider's head, "Very daring, Spider,
but I can see your scalp through the  hairs." spider goes, "Bite me."


Exhaling smoke, Chubby's like, "Um, Dylan and I are probably  gonna stop
smoking when we graduate college," and Robby mumbles, "Me too." I  finally
ask, "Are we going to this fuckin' fair, or what?" We get in the car  with
Spider driving because he supposedly knows the way. As he drives out of the
motel parking lot, he says, "I hope this fucking fair doesn't suck!" The rest
of  us are shaking our heads in disbelief.  Chubby says, "This was your idea,
 Spider. You flew down here specifically for the fair." Spider snickers,
"Yeah,  but I wish I could remember more about it." It's soon apparent
Spider's  forgotten how to get there too, and after twenty minutes of driving he
pulls  into a gas station for directions. The top is down on the Mustang and
it is a  hot day. I go, "Ryan told me that Marietta hosts a fair every year
too, it's the  North Georgia State Fair held during October each year. We'll
be in college  obviously, but the weather will be much cooler for that fair.
He thinks Spider's  fair is the only one held during the summer in the
whole state." With directions  we discover Spider was on the right track after
all, and fifteen minutes later  were in a stop and go line of traffic for the
fair grounds parking lot that's a  half mile away. Chubby's like, "You
southerners really like your fairs, huh?"  Spider shrugs, "I don't remember
waiting in line like this when I was a kid. Of  course I wasn't driving, beings
eleven or twelve years old at the time. My  brother and I were probably
fighting in the back seat with my old man yelling at  us at the top of his
lungs." Chubby mutters, "Lovely."


The line of cars moves slowly but we finally get close enough  to see a
sign welcoming us to: 'Effingham County's Fair'. Huh, it's started  Monday and
ends tomorrow. Gates open 5:00 PM each day except Saturday when they  open
at noon. I look at my watch and see it's 12:15. Good thing we didn't get
here any earlier. After another ten minutes in line inching forward we come
upon  two smiling ladies passing out pamphlets about the fair, saying,
"Something to  read as you wait in line. Thank y'all for coming." I hold my hand out
and a  smiling middle-age lady with a significant overbite passes me a
pamphlet saying,  "Hi there, sugar," and I put on a little southern twang,
asking, "How'd y'all  know my name?" She laughs and moves on. Robby and I light a
cigarette and read  the pamphlet. We can see a roller coaster and a Ferris
wheel in the distance,  plus the pamphlet list many other amusement rides.
Chubby says, "It's seven  dollars admission and then twenty bucks to get a
bracelet for unlimited rides."  I go, "Oh fuck! We missed the parade! They had
floats and high school bands and  who knows what else." We're chuckling as
Spider says, "Probably marching firemen  too." Chubby's reading his pamphlet
and then laughs out loud, "Did you see  Tuesday night they had a beauty
pageant for girls ages seven to twenty-three."  Spider dead pans, "Damn! Some
of those seven year old girls are hot too.  Occasionally a twelve year old
will have her kids with her." More  laughing.


There's a list of like forty people on the fair committee, and  then an
endless list of 'Best of "contests. Best canned vegetables, best  preserved
fruit, best jellies, pickles, home baked good. Best embroidery, best  crochet,
best every fuckin' thing. Two pages of them. Top prize for most is  $3.00.
I'm like, "I hope there's blue ribbons involved 'cause obviously they're  not
entering these contests for the first place prize money." Chubby goes, "The
 last page is a killer. There's a list of shows we can attend: a cattle
show, a  goat show, a hog show, a swine show." I go, "Aren't hogs and swine the
same  thing, Spider?" He chuckles, "Fuck if I know." Chubby says, "All I
care about is  seeing the goat show, and of course getting a snow cone." Robby
goes, "Ewww,  smell that?" Spider says, "Yeah, it's called manure and it
comes from all those  animals in the shows when they go potty wherever they
feel like it." I mutter,  "Gross," then ask, "What kind of show can they do
with swine? Dancing swine  maybe, or balance a ball on their nose?" Chubby
goes, "Fuck the swines, I wanna  see the goats!" More laughing. It's the way
Chubby says thing.


We've finally reached the parking lot, then Spider  drives for six minutes
past an unbelievable number of parked cars before we  see a guys waving a
red flag at us indicating where we're to park. Spider parks,  puts the top up
and turns off the engine.  We get out and Chubby says,  "Lock that fucker
up, Joseph." We start walking, with me complaining, "It's a  good half mile
back to the fair." Chubby puts his arm across my shoulder,  saying, "Ya wanna
go on the Ferris wheel with me, bro?" I laugh and our day at  the Effinham
County Fair begins.


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



========================================================



Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine  published
and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them  for
next to nothing. (Or buy the 'print' version.) The books are under  ten
dollars. They are about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life
than  Dylan's. And there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at
least  check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the
story in  the books can be found in some detail there. Thank  you.


Donny  Mumford



============================================

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