Date: Thu, 19 Nov 2015 16:23:51 -0500
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION Chapter  29

DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION


Chapter  29


by  Donny Mumford




It's Sunday night and I'm sitting in Brad's car along with him  and Tim's
brother, Paul. Tim is in the all night pharmacy buying condoms. An  hour or
so ago we had what I'd call a mellow, below average, three-way  sex-a-thon:
Brad, Tim, and I. It consisted of basic buddy sex 101, but it was  okay. Now
Brad's talked Paul into joining us. He reluctantly finally agreed but  only
if he can fuck, guess who? Yep, me, and Timmy's pissed about that because
he says I'm his bitch and... well, it's been that kind of a goofy night. Right
now  I'm on the fence about another round of tepid sex, leaning towards
calling it a  night. Tim comes out of the pharmacy smiling and holding up the
condom package.  As soon as he gets in the car he starts in on his brother,
"These condoms are  not for you, shit-head, no offense intended, but you're
not fucking my bitch!"  Yeah well, there ya go, that tipped the scale for me.
As soon as we get back to  the house I'm taking off. I've had enough
amateur-hour sex for one night. I'll  give them credit though; Tim and Brad have
the buddy-sex thing down perfectly,  but I feel a guy with a two inch dick
does not get to call me his bitch.  Yeah, when Tim and I are alone doing our
two minute prostate fucks his  name-calling makes me chuckle. Not when he does
it front of these other guys  though. Nope.


At the house we all get out of the car and I say, "Sorry,  guys, but I
didn't realize how late it was. I'm a working man so I gotta call it  a night
and get some sleep. Y'all enjoy yourselves though." There's grumbling,  'Why
didn't you say so earlier,' and  'What a pussy!'... silly shit like  that. I
just wave my hand at them like, 'Get outta here'. Naturally, as little  boys
will do, Timmy's giving me the finger as I drive away chuckling, leaving  the
windows up so I don't hear anymore of their taunts. It looked to me like
there's an expression of relief on Paul's face. He gives me a little hand
wave  and a grin. Pretty boy with his long waving hair. Peer pressure forced
him into  agreeing to something he didn't really want to do, and by leaving I
gave him an  unexpected way out. Still, it would have been interesting
seeing his dick, I  mean considering his brother's two inch penis. Heh heh, I
don't mean to be mean,  but it does make me chuckle thinking about it. To Tim's
credit though he's proud  of his dick and not embarrassed by it. And, hell,
it does feels good in my ass  so I have a natural curiosity about his
brother's penis. All things considered  though, it isn't worth going through the
trouble for an awkward first time fuck  by reluctant Paul. Maybe another
time.

Of course, anytime I have an orgasm it's not all bad, but the  three-way
with Brad and Tim never got especially hot. They're so familiar with  each
other they do sex as almost an after thought. It was casual sex in the  extreme
while the two of them were arguing with each other about the pinball
machine. They're okay guys, but I'm not really connecting with them. I mean,
they laugh at corny stuff that isn't really all that funny and, I don't know,
it's like I kinda feel I'm an outsider more than anything. These southern
boys  are always nice to me, but it's somehow different with my boys back
home. Even  the younger guys in Framingham, the eighteen and nineteen year olds,
I relate to  better than Brad, for example, who's my age. Maybe I'm just
home  sick.


When I park the Mini in the garage, Ryan's motorbike isn't in  it's place.
His parent's cars are here though. I'm guessing Ryan's date with  this Mike
guy has been a success. Good for them. Walking towards the house,  hoping
his parents are already in bed, and then inside I find that they are.  Good!
Tiptoeing up two flights of stairs and into my bedroom where I can kinda
feel relaxed. Neither of his parents has ever ventured to the third floor, not
since I've been here anyway. It's my sanctuary. Huh, it's eleven-thirty
already  so I quickly do my bathroom stuff and get into bed. Then it's lights
out for me  both figuratively and literally. I conk out almost immediately
when I turn out  the lights.


I'm dreaming about being married to someone, but I don't know  who. We're
trying to find something that I think might be a baby. It's very  bright like
we're outside with me pushing a wheel barrel for no reason I can  discern.
Chubby's there too with a much older woman, but I don't know what  they're
doing. Then I see a baby carriage but it keeps moving away from us...
Someone's shaking my shoulder now for real, and an involuntary yelp comes out of  my
mouth as a scary electric chill sizzles down my spine. "What? Um, oh Ryan!
Is  it time for work?" He goes, "No, silly, it's one o'clock in the morning.
Are you  awake?" I sit-up, "Well yeah, I am now. Crazy dream. Um, whassup?"
He gets on  the bed sitting crossed-legged like an Indian, his eyes shiny
with a general  expression of glee on his face. He says, "I thought you might
like to hear how  it went tonight with Mike." What the fuck? I yawn, "Oh
yeah, um, how'd it go?"  The moonlight through the window outlines Ryan's
form, plus I can see he's  smiling as he says, "Awesome! It went awesome." I
nod, "Do you wanna tell me why  it was awesome?" He chuckles, "Yeah, sure.
First off Mike's really easy to talk  to, we told each other all about
ourselves." I frown, "You told him all of it?"  He goes, "Well, not the stuff about
my shoddy history with sex deviates. He did  mention that clever lie you
made-up about rumors from last summer being totally  bogus... ya know, I left it
at that. I mean, the rumors are true, but I'm over  that part of my life. I
told him about you, Rob, and me and how we all met, and  why you ended up
here this summer. Giving you all the credit for my personality  turn-around
too, which is the first thing he mentioned. You know, that I'm  totally
different from the way I was last summer."


He chatters on happily for fifteen minutes about Mike  schooling him on how
to make chicken Cog Au Vin with chicken thighs, bacon,  mushrooms and red
wine. They cooked together and he says, "It's sort of a stew  that we served
over rice. We also had a salad of baby spring lettuces with a  sweet salad
dressing that we also made ourselves." Ghastly sounding meal! He  tells me
they watched some 'On demand' TV... South Park episodes, sitting on the  couch
close together. Oh brother, I can't imagine doing that myself. But then
the TV watching turned-into one of the best make-outs Ryan claims he's ever
had,  which makes me smile because he doesn't even realize that was sort of
insulting  to me. They had sex of course, but all he said about their sex was
they both  were 'versatile'. Good for them. After sex they laid naked
together on Mike's  bed and talked for two more hours. Ryan's glowing, saying,
"Danny, I've never  had anything go more perfectly than that date. Mike's
coming to the baseball  game Wednesday too. Oh, and get this: he golf's He has a
eight handicap and  that's a low handicap for a weekend golfer. You and me
are invited to play a  round of golf at his course this Sunday." He goes on
and on excitedly and as I  listened the thought occurred to me that I just
might be witnessing the  beginning of the first miracle I know about. To wit,
Ryan falling head over  heels in love with someone other than me. No more
guilty feelings for misleading  him about love. I can just be his side-sex
partners like fate has had in store  for us all along.


I tell him sincerely that I couldn't be happier for him, and  then jokingly
add, "Um, it's just that this late night chat about your first  date seems
a bit girlie, don't ya think? Something girls would do." He laughs,  "Now
that you mention it, yeah, I guess you're right. Jeez though, I had to tell
somebody and you were elected." I mutter, "I'm flattered. Um, maybe you're
showing a bit of your feminine side. That's suppose to be a good thing I'm
told.  Sounds like bull shit to me, but ya know, that's what they say." He
laughs, then  says, "Fuck my feminine side, but thanks for listening. Hell,
Danny, I owe you  so much for being here for me this summer. Everything's
changed for me,  thanks to you." Shrugging, I go, "So all's forgiven?" He shakes
his head, "Well  no, you're still a prick for blowing-up our plans of a
lifetime, but now Mike's  somewhat got my mind off that." Perhaps my mention of
a miracle was premature.  Still, he did say that last remark while
grinning, as if he's just  kidding. Just kidding, but with some truth to it too.

Thankfully he finally begins yawning and mumbling something  about it being
just about time for some sleep. Very true. There's no kiss  goodnight, just
a rub on my head, as he says, "I have a feeling this could be  the start of
something big." I go, "That's a line from a song, isn't it?" He  goes,
"Fuck if I know. See you in the morning," and with a final wave he goes  down
the secret staircase. Huh, something might turn out right for once, and I
mean for both of us. Damn, it's so timely though it's almost unbelievable.
Obviously Ryan's date sounds corny as hell, although I would have liked to hear
 a few more details about their 'versatile' sex. Taking a deep breath I'm
cautiously feeling good about this latest development. This stroke of good
fortune may lessen or even eliminate what may have been some awkward days
ahead  for Ryan and me. Anyway it's like a weight's been lifted off my
shoulders, as  the saying goes.


Waiting to drift off to sleep again I'm checking myself to see  if I'm
jealous and conclude I'm not. Still, I can't help but wonder how much of  Ryan's
successful date had to do with him deciding ahead of time the date was
going to be a success one way or another. I mean because I reneged on our
plans.  Well, I made a quick hundred and eighty degree change of mind when I met
Robby  Friday night, so maybe Ryan did the same thing tonight as regard his
feelings  for me. He's done loving me and on his way to loving Mike, which
suits me fine  as long as Ryan and I can continue our side-sex. I can't
conceive of surviving  another five weeks depending exclusively on Timmy for
buddy-sex. Sex with him  has been a novelty and that's okay assuming there's
'for-real' sex happening  too. And Ryan does for-real sex awesomely. I'm pretty
fuckin' sure there's no  way Ryan can be satisfied with sex once or twice
week with Mike. No fucking  way!


Ryan continues his upbeat good mood even after a short night's  sleep and
it's a pleasant atmosphere in his bedroom this morning. No stilted
conversation or awkward silent periods. It's smiles and, 'How you doing this
morning, Danny?" Then during the drive to work, Ryan says, "Getting dressed I  was
thinking about me waking you up last night and babbling on about my date
with Mike." He laughs, "It was a girlie thing to do. Embarrassing now that I
think about it." I go, "No problem. I was happy for you," and he says, "I
knew  you would be because you're nice. What isn't nice is me forgetting to
say  I'm happy for you and Rob. That's what I should have said yesterday
afternoon."  Huh, things are working out better than I could have hoped for?
Trying for  cool, I go, "Thanks, Albert, and I hope we can still be the best
side-sex  buddies ever." He goes, "I don't know about that," and we both
laugh. Huh, I  assume he was kidding. He goes, "You'll like Mike. He's unassuming
and basically  a real nice guy." I ask, "How about his past love life?"
Ryan goes, "He broke  off a relationship, a two year relationship with his
roommate at college. That  happened just before the end of their last semester."
I go, "Oh fuck, that must  have been an awkward last couple of weeks for
the roommates." Ryan nods, "Yeah,  but the guy was cheating on Mike like
crazy. Mike thought they were in love, but  the other guy turned out to be a
sneaky bastard talking about Mike behind his  back, shitting on all the plans
they'd made together." I mutter, "That's a  shame." Hmmmm?


Truth is I've heard all I need to hear about Mike, so I have  nothing more
to say about him and the topic fizzles out. Ryan parks, saying,  "Run this
report up to Josh Day's office for me. If he's not there drop the  report in
the bin on his desk labeled reports. I'll see you in the lunch room."  I
take the manilla envelope, mumbling, "Sure," and after getting past the ID
check points I go upstairs and down a long corridor to Josh Day's office. He's
at his desk looking up when I knock on his door frame. He goes, "Is that
Wilcox's report?" I nod my head and he says, "Good. You're, um..." and I go,
"Danny Newman," and he mumbles, "Newman, right." I drop the envelope in the
basket and Josh holds up a folder, "Take this over to the Administration
office  and tell Burt Swigert he needs to review the entire folder this
morning." Balls!  I mutter, "Yes, sir," and take the folder. In the hall I ask a
black woman where  the Administration office is and she gives me a big smile.
"Well, sugar, y'all  got yourself a hike. It's on the other side of the
building," and she points to  a diagram of this building on the wall, tracing
where I need to go. Looks like a  maze. I thank her, then finally find the
administration offices but not before  getting lost. Then I get lost on the way
back too, so when I finally find our  lunch room I barely have time for a
quick coffee.


"Where ya been, Danny boy?" asks Dog, when I sit down. I go,  "Running
errands for Albert and Josh Day." Sammy says, "I did that last Friday  and Josh
had me running all over the place." Ryan chuckles as he sits down with  his
second cup of coffee, "That's exactly the reason I have one of my crew take
the report to Josh. If I dropped it off I'd be running all over the fucking
 place. Fortunately for me I'm the boss and can tell one of you worker-bees
to do  it." Bill Stark says, "Yeah, boo hoo, Danny. Albert had me running
that report  up to Josh three days in a row last week," and Sammy says,
"Don't take it  personally, Bill, you're the rookie," then Sammy asks me, "This
Saturday,  Danny?" He means this Saturday for me giving him and his brothers
haircuts. I  glance at Ryan and he does a slight nod of his head that it's
okay, so I go,  "Absolutely Sammy," then the bell goes off to start the day,
me with half a cup  of coffee left. Alden Smith and his younger brother
Jaden are with us at the  table too, but as usual they don't have a lot to say.
They're friendly though  and it's usually Jaden, the younger brother, who'll
add to the conversation.  He's nice looking and I think he's sexy too. Dog
goes, "Another mothafuckin'  workday begins, y'all." I mutter, "You always
know just the right thing to say,  Dog. You my mothafuckin' idol."


We all file out to the dock to unload yet another truck that's  backed-up
to the loading dock. Everyone knows what to do so the unloading goes  like
clockwork. I'm thinking back on a couple of little things this morning that
indicate to me nothing's changed as far as Ryan being in-charge goes. Him
sending me on his errand first thing this morning shows me he's my boss at
work,  and then me automatically glancing at him to get his okay for Sammy and
his  brothers to come over for haircuts shows that he's still very much
in-charge  outside of work too. And I'm good with that. The last piece of the
puzzle will  be Ryan initiating sex between us. His comment of, 'I'm not so
sure of that'  when I mentioned side-sex during the drive to work, was
hopefully a joke. I  mean, we both laughed so I assume it was supposed to be funny.
If we get our  side-sex percolating again we'll be right back to the way we
expected this  summer to play out. The only remaining goal is for me to act
more maturely, and  in the past twenty-four hours I feel I've made a good
start with  that.


Done with the unloading, Dog and I work together logging in  the stuff we
unloaded. He's giving me smirks every now and then, finally asking,  "You and
Albert have a fight or something?" I stop what I'm doing, "Why the fuck
would you think that?" He shrugs, "Dude, you're not doing those puppy dog eyes
 at him today." Talk about perceptive! I squash that correct observation as
if it  were a misconception, "No! We don't fight. It's just that we're in
the process  of, um, reevaluating our relationship a little." He mumbles, "Uh
huh," and we  leave it at that. Ryan eats lunch with his six man crew
buying the 'pop' of our  choice for everyone. He's still in a good mood, saying,
"That truck we unloaded  this morning, guys, it was scheduled for next week.
That's how far ahead of  schedule we are. You guys rock!" The day goes by
quickly and then Ryan and I are  rushing to our golf lesson. We're especially
anxious to hit some balls getting  ready for playing eighteen holes this
coming Sunday at Mike's  course.


Terry, our golf instructor, is basically tweaking our swings  as we hit
fifty balls with our drivers, and then fifty with mid irons. The last  twenty
minutes we practice chipping and putting. It's another really hot day  early
in July so we're pretty much dripping with perspiration by the time we're
putting our clubs in our lockers. The kid who stepped on my foot after our
first  lesson is in the locker room sneaking glances at Ryan. Maybe hoping
Ryan won't  throw him down the steps again. We're changing out of our golf
shoes when  Ryan notices the kid glancing over at him. He stands up, asking the
kid, "You  have something on your mind, dude?" The kid's face gets red as he
shakes his  head and mumbles something under his breath. Ryan goes, "What
was that?" and  another head shake from the kid, but this time without
mumbling anything. He  looks younger than I remember and he's kind of cute now
that he's not stepping  on my foot. Ryan and I go up the steps to the clubhouse
with me saying, "You big  bully," and Ryan chuckles, then says, "He's
bigger than me." I go, "You were  still a bully," but I'm grinning feeling good
and thinking how Ryan's been  looking out for me from day one.


At the house we shower and dress for dinner; then, going down  stairs
together, he says, "Damn, you clean-up good," and he squeezes the back of  my
neck giving me a nice feeling. I say, "You too, Albert." The dinner tonight  is
his mother's so-called famous fried chicken with all the fixings. Actually
it's probably the best fried chicken I've ever had. Pecan pie with a scoop
of  vanilla ice cream for dessert. During the meal his father was in a
pleasant mood  giving Ryan a compliment about what he read in the recent
month-end report from  Josh Day. Then there's conversation about Marietta's town
team being in first  place. Mrs W. goes out of her way to mention that I played
in the last win. All  in all a nice dinner experience. When Mr. Wilcox
isn't drunk most dinners are  pleasant enough and the food is outstanding. That
is except for one night last  week when we had gumbo. Oh man, it was hard to
get enough down to avoid  insulting the chef. I managed to eat a little of
it and then spread the  remaining food around on my plate so it looked like
I ate more than I did. I  felt compelled to lie, "I just don't have a big
appetite tonight for some  reason. It's delicious though, Mrs. Wilcox." She
gave my hand a pat telling me  to eat only what I felt comfortable with. Ryan
helped by saying, "It's that huge  lunch you ate today, Danny. I told you
that you  wouldn't have much of an  appetite for a dinner and mother's prize
winning gumbo." My lunch that day was  the same as every other day. Ryan was
helping me out of an awkward situation.  Gumbo blows! Later Ryan drove us to
McDonalds where I had a Big Mac and a large  order of fries. No mention of
anything sexy from Ryan, or me, before bed Monday  night.


After a routine day's work Tuesday we have baseball practice  and then
dinner. Meatloaf tonight, chocolate cake for dessert. After dinner  we're in
Ryan's room and he goes, "This is awkward but I told Mike I'd stop over  for a
beer. You, um, can use the Mini if you want." I go, "No, that's okay, I'll
hang-out here and get to bed early. I'm still catching up on sleep I missed
last  weekend." He goes, "You sure?" and I nod my head, "Yeah, a night doing
nothing  sounds good to me." He goes, "Well, okay then," but he doesn't
sound convinced,  so I say, "I'm good, Albert, really." He nods his head and
goes, "Well, I'll be  going now." Grinning half heartedly, I mumble, "Have a
good time," and he gives  me a hug and a kiss on my cheek. "Thanks, Danny." I
go up to my room with his  scent in my head and my hand on my crotch
squeezing my dick. Whoa, I'm horny! No  sex from Ryan since that welcome-back sex
ten minutes after I got here early  Sunday afternoon. Then that less than
average three-way sex with Brad and Tim.  That's been it. A serious draught!


I surf the Internet for an hour reading some interesting  things. Yahoo
always has a lot of scientific articles, especially about space  and the
universe. I read them thinking they're interesting, then afterward I  realize I
don't really know what I read. What the fuck, I'm probably not going  to be a
scientist anyway. Then I text with Chubby for twenty minutes. He's at a  Red
Sox game with Spider. They're drinking eight dollar plastic cups of beer
and  bitching about the people constantly walking in from of them. There's
always  lots of people walking around at Red Sox games.  Chubby tells me about
a  new misadventure of Spider's on the landscaping crew. Those two keep the
guys on  the crew laughing and loose. After texting Chubby I text Robby. The
text is  delivered, but not read. He's probably at another meeting about
the Dicker's big  project next year. I try surfing TV channels and find a good
movie that's just  starting on HBO. It's one of the Mission Impossible spy
movies so I stick with  it even though I'm kinda tired of Tom Cruise's act.
After this  heart-stopping exciting night I get ready for bed thinking that
lots of  guys have nights like this, and all the time too. Jesus! They maybe
have sex, if  they're lucky, once or twice a year. That's the reality of it
for many guys my  age, but fortunately I've been spoiled in that regard. Oh
well, reunion-sex with  Robby in less than three weeks should be something
special. Before I go to sleep  I realize I didn't once think about calling
Tim. A two inch cock doesn't have a  long shelf life I guess. It pretty
quickly becomes sex that you don't go out of  your way to experience.

Wednesday morning when I'm dressed and ready to go Ryan's  bedroom seems
awfully still. He's usually hustling and bustling around down  there. I skip
down the secret staircase finding Ryan still in bed sleeping. Oh  fuck!
Shaking him gets his eyes to open. He asks, "What?" and I tell him the  time. He
jumps out of bed and hits the bathroom without a word. He's out in two
minutes and dressed in another minute. I say, "Take it easy, Albert, we've got
time." He mumbles, "I'm so fucking hungover and dizzy I feel sick. Didn't
get in  until two o'clock this morning." I'm cheery, feeling rested and ready
to go, so  I drive us to work showing ID at the gate. After a quiet two cups
of coffee Ryan  whispers to me, "I feel like I'm going to throw up. Gotta
go to the bathroom. If  I'm not out when the bell sounds get the guys moving,
okay?" I nod, "Sure thing,  boss." I watch him staggering to the bathroom
as Bill asks, "What's wrong with  the boss man?" I say, "Food poisoning I
think." Dog mutters, "Or he's  hung-the-fuck-over like a mothafucka." I go, "Or
that, yeah," and everyone at  the table chuckles knowingly... been there,
done that. The bell goes off without  Albert making an appearance, but I don't
need to get the guys moving because  they get themselves moving.


Ryan makes an appearance at morning break whispering to me,  "I've been
sleeping in the car." I say, "Really? Um, check yourself out in the  bathroom,
boss, you look like you've been sleeping in a car." He tries grinning,  then
mutters, "You prick," and then with a full grin, "Lend me your pocket
comb." He heads off to the bathroom while Dog and I go out to the dock for a
smoke, followed by Sammy. He asks, "We on for Saturday morning, Danny?" and I
laugh. "Ya don't need to ask everyday, Sammy. Saturday it is. I'm looking
forward to seeing your brothers again." He says, "It has been over a month
ya  know." Jesus, like I have an obligation to be there when they want
haircuts. I  go, "Yeah, I've been terribly inconsiderate, I know that Sammy." He
shrugs,  "Aww, that's okay." Dog grins at me nodding his head at Sammy, and I
go, "How  about it, Dog, you coming over for a haircut Saturday too?" He
says, "Maybe I  will," but he won't. I'd really like to cut his hair. Today
he's wearing it in a  big afro. It looks so soft I grab a fistful and he's
like, "Dude, don't fuck  with my do." Ryan struggles through the day and then
at golf practice he quits  halfway through our lesson telling Terry he
doesn't feel too good. I finish the  lesson conscientiously thinking about
Sunday's round of golf. Don't want to make  an ass of myself.


After dinner Wednesday we have a baseball game to play, but  Ryan's not
going to make that either. "Tell Skip I'm sick with a summer cold or
something." I drive over myself and give Skip the news. He goes, "Fuck! Artie's  not
here either. Jesus! Okay son, you're in right field tonight." He doesn't
remember my name obviously. Who cares, I play the entire game in right field
with Freckles playing Ryan's centerfield position. Freckles, aka Logan, and
I  touch gloves as we jog into the dugout after each half inning. Ya know,
he's  looking better and better to me every minute. Too bad he's straight. A
guy in  the stands motions to me when our team is up at bat in the third
inning. I drift  over to the guy, wondering who he is as I'm looking
quizzically at him. He holds  his hand out, "Hi, you're Dylan, right." I shake his
hand, nodding my head and  he goes, "I'm Mike, um, Albert's friend." Oh fuck,
that's right, Ryan said Mike  was coming to watch the game tonight. Jesus,
he's not even the guy I thought he  was. No wonder Ryan never agreed with my
comments about Mike. It wasn't him. Ha  ha. He wants to know, "What happened,
where's Albert tonight?" I go, "In bed I  guess. He's been wicked hungover
all day." Mike goes, "Yeah, me too. Tell him I  was asking for him,
alright?" I go, "Sure, nice meeting you."


He takes off and as I'm walking back to the dugout I'm  thinking he does
seem nice. Watching him walk to the parking  lot I'm thinking he's okay
looking too except for his scratchy, bristly-looking  dark red beard. I was mixing
 Mike up partly with another guy from  Bible study, so I had it half right.
Still, Mike's one of those guys  that should be clean shaven. Except for
the beard, he's almost nice looking. He  has nice red hair on his head, neatly
cut, and an average body type, so not bad.  Anyway, more importantly, like
I said, he seems like a nice guy. Sometimes you  can tell a person is
basically a nice guy from just exchanging a few words like  I just did with him.
Now as far as sexy goes, um, not so much. Of course that's  an 'eye of the
beholder' kind of thing. Ryan thinks he's sexy and that's all  that matters.
The thing is, if I don't think he's sexy, especially considering  my horny
condition, I'm probably more right than wrong about the sexy  evaluation.

The game continues  with all the fly balls going to centerfield or right
field tonight. Freckles and  I make some nice catches, congratulating each
other after each catch. We're  bonding I guess you could say. We're also
hitting seventh and eighth in  tonight's line-up. Both of us get two hits for the
night  combining for three runs scored. I was on second base in the third
inning and  Freckles hits a rope to left field, which I easily scored on. Then
in the eight  inning I'm on second base again with Jeff on third. There's
two outs when  Freckles, aka Logan, rips a two run single up the middle. We
win the game 5 to 4, and Freckles is sort of the star of the  game. We're
buddy/buddy with our arms across each other's shoulders walking to the
parking  lot after the game. He says, "Nice game for a gay boy," and I say, "Sure
was,  but you were the star." His car is parked next to the Mini and as he's
putting  his glove in the truck, I ask him, "You going with anyone?"  and
he says, "On and off with the same girl since last Christmas break. Why do
you ask?" I go, "Because if you weren't going with anyone maybe you'd be
horny and I could convert you to my team." His eyebrows go up, and  I shake my
head laughing, "No, ya nut, I'm kidding you. I asked because I'm
interested, that's all, and it's a normal question for one guy to ask another.  It's
called small talk." He goes, "Yeah, you're right, except you're gay so, ya
know." I mumble, "Always putting the gay boy down, huh?" He  leans against
his car, saying, "I feel I can tell you this, but don't you tell a  fucking
soul. I had a friend in middle school and we'd jerk each other off, and  one
time he even blew me, or started to but broke out laughing. That's the total
of my nefarious secret gay experimentation. Whenever we run  into each
other, me and that kid, which isn't often, we both break out  laughing." I go,
"Yeah, well probably a majority of guys experiment with each  other at some
point in their early lives, and then for us  lucky few we stick with it." I
get in the car and he goes, "Lucky you." I'm  ridiculously horny! I'll bet
freckles has a big dick.


Back at the house I find Ryan still moping around with his  hangover. He's
in the kitchen drinking a Snapple saying, "I can't get enough  liquids
inside me. Who won?" I tell him and he mumbles, "Good," and he wants to  hear all
about it. After that, he asks, Ya wanna watch some TV in my room?" I  say,
"Yeah, okay, after I take a shower." In the shower I'm wondering, or is it
I'm hoping, this is Ryan's way of getting us on his bed together. Showered
and  dried off I go down the secret staircase wearing only boxer shorts. I
hear the  TV, but then there's Ryan under the covers sleeping again. Fucking
hangover! It  had to be hard liquor those two were drinking last night, and
way too much of it  too. Turning off his TV and the lights, I go up and get
in bed with my  cellphone. I'm checking for text messages and emails. Texting
and doing short  emails from my iPhone for half an hour, and then I go to
sleep after my third  day without sex. Do guys really do this on a regular
basis?


Thursday morning Ryan's still a little cranky, just beginning  to feel
himself again after the hangover. Normal work day except Dog and I got  the
silly giggles all morning. I told him about how the cute girl from the  garage
bar, the one without her front teeth, and the way she was lisping. It got
really stupid as we both are doing our impression of lisping. Childish, so
that  didn't do much for my maturing process. I blamed it on D'george. After
work Ryan  and I have our golf lesson and then dinner at the house. "What are
you doing  tonight, Albert?" I ask as we're cleaning up the kitchen. He
says, "I thought  I'd run over to Mike's and apologize for not being at last
night's game. He  skipped a card game he and some of his friends have at their
different houses  week to week. Poker is the game, and Mike says a couple of
hundred bucks can  easily change hands each night. It's not dime/quarter
poker like we played at  Merrimack." I nod my head, "Yeah, okay." He starts to
say something, then asks,  "Do you want the Mini tonight? I can take the
motorbike." I shrug, "Yeah, if you  don't mind. I'll check out the mall, kill
some time." He goes, "You could call  Timmy or Brad," and I go, "Nah, I
might call Jeff." He laughs, then says, "No,  do not call my boy, Jeff." Smiling
at him, I go, "I'm not up for Timmy, that's  all I'm saying," and he points
at me, "Don't call Jeff!" I mumble, "No problem,  I'll catch you later." He
looks at me for a couple of seconds, then mutters,  "Okay, but I'm calling
Jeff right now and  telling him he's not allowed to go out with you." I wave
my hand at him. I  wasn't calling Jeff because he already sort of turned me
down saying he's  Albert's boy. Fucking southern gay boys, y'all.

After he takes off on his motorbike I lean against the Mini  thinking how
this summer got off to a fast start for me side-sex-wise. First  there was
sex with Brad after my first Sunday at church, and then a couple days  later a
three-way with Timmy and Brad during break at Bible study. Then sex with
Jeff and Timmy at the gay club, but since that good start it's  been
basically nothing. Well, except for Tim a few times. Mostly just the  hot sex with
Ryan, and that was pretty much all I needed. If our sex hadn't been  so hot I
might have connected with another gay Marietta guy. The thing is, I'm  not
much for initiating sex the first time with anyone. The closest I ever come
to suggesting sex to a guy for the first time was me asking Freckles if
he's  going with anyone. And he's straight! That was a desperation move with
zero  chance of anything happening. Well, maybe not zero, but very close to
it. Still,  I'm determined not to ask Ryan for sex and I'm not yet desperate
enough to call  Tim or Brad. I hate initiating first time side-sex anyway
and, like I said, I  never do it. Yeah, although I'm quick to take someone up
on it if they mention  sex, assuming they're attractive in some way. So far
I'm happy to say I'm not  getting snippy from lack of sex, and that's mature
of me. Yep, I'm my normal  affable self always ready with a smile and
something nice to say to all. Heh  heh, that's me alright.


Walking through the mall makes me feel even lonelier than my  normal
loneliness this week. That's mostly because everyone's with someone. Some  are
with groups of guys and/or girls and some with a friend. I might start  feeling
sorry for myself if this bullshit life continues for much longer. I'm  not
sure if Ryan's being vindictive leaving me alone like this, or if he's just
clueless how rude it is. Wait a minute, I could have asked Logan what he's
doing  the other night instead of asking if he's going with someone. Then
maybe  hang-out with him. What, am I all of a sudden dependent on Ryan for
friends?  Fuck, he wouldn't have any friends in the first place if not for me!
Okay, I  sense I'm getting bitter, and I never get bitter, so stop it!
Wandering through  Macy's I buy a pair of black skinny jeans and a cool
sleeveless t-shirt. Ya  don't see a lot of sleeveless t-shirts for sale anymore.
Buying this stuff makes  me feel better. I'm parking the Mini back at the house
at a little after nine  o'clock. When I'm in the house I hear Ryan's parents
talking over a Bruce  Springsteen CD in the library. The tinkling of ice in
glasses indicates to me  they're having some libation along with their
conversation. It easy to tip toe  up the stairs without them hearing me, and
then another night in my room alone.  This must be how Ryan felt all last
summer.


Then it's Friday morning and Ryan's in a really good mood, but  it's my
turn to be less than cheerful. I'm feeling funky and a little down, but  faking
half a smile. The faking  doesn't get past Ryan though, "What's wrong,
Danny? You seem, um, out of sorts.  Where's that cute grin of your's?" I won't
give in and say why I'm not real  happy about this past week, instead I'm
like, "No, I'm good!  Looking forward to the weekend mostly. Do you have
anything planned?" We're  carrying our lunches to the car with Ryan saying, "Yeah,
tomorrow morning I'm  doing haircuts for you three, and then you've got
Sammy's brothers coming over." He backs the Mini out of the garage, the top
down, as I  mumble, "Yeah, and then our two o'clock baseball game tomorrow. Are
we still  golfing Sunday with Mike at his course?" Ryan goes, "No. His
course turns out to  be a public course and with weekend golfers we'd be looking
at a six hour round  of golf. I called Terry and we have a one o'clock tee
time  at our course. Mike's never golfed at a private country club, so he's
pretty  excited about it." Well, we've got the days accounted for Saturday
and Sunday,  now how about the nights?


Ryan has nothing to say about the nights so I don't either. At  Saturday's
ball game I plan on asking Logan what he's doing Saturday night and  maybe
hooking up with him. Tonight maybe I'm finally desperate enough to call  Tim.
I'm just not use to running solo. I like doing stuff with guys, not
entertaining myself. Speaking of entertaining myself, I'm kinda proud of myself
that I haven't resorted back to the pre-gay days of jerking off four times a
day. I don't think I've spanked the snake three times in the last three
years. I  refuse to let my sex life deteriorate back to those days. Then at
work nothing  unusual happens all day and I'm actually surprised when the bell
goes off ending  the week. Time flies when you keep busy. I'm slapping palms
with the guys  walking outside to the parking lot, wishing everyone a good
weekend. I yell over  to Dog, "Ya need directions to my house, Dog?" He
smiles, "I'll find it,  mothafucka." Sure you will. Sammy asks for the tenth
time, "Is ten o'clock good  for you tomorrow, Danny?" I ruffle his hair, "Yep,
Sam, see you and your  brothers then, dude."


As usual Fridays after work I'm smoking a cigarette in the  parking lot
waiting for Ryan to finish up his week-end report. Taking my  paycheck out of
my pocket I like reading the $575.00 following the 'Pay to...' and then my
name. My name is Dylan Newman on the check, not Danny. Ryan  sticks his head out
the door, "Come here, Danny," so I trot over, "Whassup,  Albert?" He hands
me the Mini keys, "Get the air conditioning running in the  car. I'll be
another ten minutes at most." I do that, then finish my smoke.  Maybe I should
come right out and ask Ryan what are his intentions for our  side-sex the
rest of the summer. Well hell, I'm down to my last four weeks of  Marietta
life. So fuck it, I'm not gonna ask Ryan anything. If I have to, I can  make do
with Tim and maybe Brad the rest of the way. Hey, maybe pretty-boy Paul
still wants to fuck me. I've got options, but it means I need to initiate
something myself. Tim hasn't called all week and the previous week I was the
one  who called him. That was last Sunday as a matter of fact and doesn't
count as  initiating sex for the first time obviously. We've done it a half
dozen times  previously. It's not like back home where I received a few more
invitations then  I get here. These southern gay boys aren't especially
outgoing. Good thing I  wasn't born in the south.


Out comes Ryan, but it's more like fifteen minutes later, not  'ten at the
most' like he said. He's smiling, "Good week, Danny. It gives me a  hard-on
writing out the reports for Josh. We're kicking this project's ass!" We
drive downtown to deposit our paychecks and get back a hundred dollar in cash.
That's way more than I need for incidentals during the coming week. I've
got  more money in the bank now than I had at the end of last summer. Two
reasons:  one, I'm making a lot more, and two, I don't spend money for food or
almost  anything down here. In Framingham money flies out of my pockets. Back
at the house drinking Cokes in the  kitchen, Ryan says, "Mike's working at
the deli tonight, but I promised Jeff he  and I would get together for a bit
after dinner. I don't  know, sometime around eight o'clock. I don't want to
spend the whole night with  him though 'cause he's too immature. So, um, do
you wanna hook-up after that and  we can do something together?" I nod my
head without seeming especially  enthused, although I am, "Sure, I guess,
Albert. What'll we do?" He  chuckles, "Still being stubborn, huh? That's okay,
cause we  couldn't do anything in the house with my parents staying in for
the night.  We'll catch a movie or better yet watch the summer basketball
league at the  school grounds. Just doing something together." I go, "Alright,"
and we both go  to our bedrooms to shower and get ready for dinner.


Friday night dinners are rare because Ryan's parents often eat  at the club
on Fridays. Not tonight though, so Mr. W. asks me to say grace. We  hold
hands and I rattle off one of three I'm memorized and then we're ready for
dinner. Out of the blue, Ryan says, "Father, how about if Danny and I have
wine  with dinners from now on?" His mother says, "I thought you didn't like
wine,"  and Ryan goes, "We've acquired a taste for it, before dinner drinks
too for that  matter." His father rolls his eyes, and in a bored manner, says,
"Daniel, get  yourself and Albert wine glasses out of the cabinet behind
you." I do that as  his father adds, "You'll be twenty-one next month, both of
you I think. Is that  right, Daniel?" I say, "Yes, sir, I'll be twenty-one
in August." Ryan says, "My  birthday's this month, Father." He sighs, "Oh
yeah, I knew that," as he pours us  both a glass of Merlot to go with our lamb
chops." The conversation during  dinner, as we all drink our wine, is
cocktails. What cocktails they like and  what we like, and what Ryan's mother and
father think we might like that we  haven't tried yet. Apparently talking
about adult beverages is a popular topic  in this household. His mother and
father drink every night and sometimes at  lunch. I can't conceive of ever
doing that myself though.


It was kind of a cool dinner though, after which Ryan changes  into shorts
and a Polo shirt, then rides his motorbike to Jeff's, telling me,  "I'll be
back in an hour." I nod my head and watch him take off, then wander to  the
gazebo for a cigarette. All indications point to Ryan throwing Jeff a quick
fuck, and then making an excuse as to why he can't stay longer. Then he'll
be  riding back here and we'll do something. He inferred I'm being stubborn.
He  meant I'm too stubborn to ask him for sex like I was prone to doing
previously,  and he's right, I am stubborn about that now. Fuck it! Where sex
is concerned I  know him as well as he knows me, and he's missing our hot sex
together as much  as I am. So if he wants it, it's him who needs to bring
it up. That's all, just  mention it. He doesn't need to beg or nag for it. Ha
ha, this fucking willpower  of mine is scaring me a little bit.


After my cigarette, I try sneaking up to my room but get  caught by Mrs.
Wilcox. "Ah, there you are, Daniel, join us in the library."  Balls! I walk in
and hear a CD by a band I don't recognized. Both Ryan's parents  have
golden-brown colored drinks in short, heavy crystal glasses. His father  asks,
"Would you care to join us for an after dinner drink?" I go, "Um, I  don't...
I mean sure, thank you." Mrs. Wilcox is smirking, "Brandy, Daniel?"  Hmmm,
Ryan and I drank a bottle of their brandy. It was from the back of the
cabinet. The stuff they're drinking is probably better than that. "Brandy would
be fine, thank you."  We drink brandy as they quiz me on how things are
going for me here in Marietta, and between me and Albert, with me giving polite
 generic answers with a positive slant to all their questions. Quite a bit
of  lying is required to pull this off convincingly. I've perfected this
evasive  maneuver from years of Chubby and me being questioned by the moms.
They gave up  questioning us about personal matters a couple of years ago. Both
of Ryan's  parents are very chummy tonight and it's sort of a interesting
forty-five  minutes, and two brandies, before Ryan walks in looking surprise,
even shocked.  Mr. Wilcox takes a deep breath, then says, "We're getting
your boyfriend drunk  while pumping him for information." Ryan grins
nervously, probably wondering  what I've been saying. He asks, "Is Danny telling any
of our secrets?" His  mother says, "No, he's very clever at talking sweetly
around every probing  question we asked him." Ryan goes, "Good, what y'all
drinking?"


He has a brandy with us talking about work and how well it's  progressing.
Then we talk about golf and how Ryan's mother wants Junior, that  what she
calls Ryan's father, to set up a tee time so the four of us can play a  round
of golf together. Mr. Wilcox doesn't appear thrilled with the idea as he
mutters, "Yes, dear, we'll see." Then his father goes on a rather long and
somewhat pompous explanation about how one goes about being successful in
today's business climate. My eyes glaze over as Mrs. Wilcox grins at me and
gulps down some more brandy. Finally Ryan says, "Well, thanks for the
brandies  and the good advise. Danny and I are going to watch one of the late
summer  league basketball games at the school." I thank his parents for the
drinks and,  a little boozily, we're on our way out. Ryan says, "Let's grab a
smoke and then  we'll take the bike for a ride before checking it at the
basketball courts."  It's nice sitting in the gazebo with Ryan again having a
cigarette. I'd like to  ask what, where, and how did he fuck Jeff before
returning to the house, but  that's not what we do. Ryan says, "Man, I can't
believe how little I've seen of  you this week, outside of work I mean." I shrug,
"Yeah, well you've been busy."  He puts his arm across my shoulders and hugs
my side against his, "Is there  anything you want to ask me, Danny?" He's
grinning so I find myself grinning  back at him, as I say, "Nope," then, "Oh
wait, yeah, I want to ask you if we're  taking golf carts Sunday, or using
pull carts?" He laughs, "Neither, we'll carry  our golf bags. Carts are for
old fossils." I go, "Oh." His body feels nice so I  don't pull away.


Finished our smokes, Ryan goes, "Okay, lets take a ride." As  we're walking
to the garage, I mumble, "Ya know, I didn't see basketball courts  at the
school. Just the football and baseball fields, are we going to a  different
school?" He goes, "Same school, the basketball courts are on the other  side
of the building. Nice ones too." Inside the garage, as Ryan's passing me my
helmet, he sees the toiletry kit with the barber tools, and asks, "Hey, how
 about I give you your haircut now? You can sleep in tomorrow morning." I
shrug,  "Um, I don't know." Robby thinks I can just say 'no' to Ryan's
haircuts and Ryan  will go, "Oh, okay." That's not how Ryan operates. He sees me
hesitating, and  says, "Yeah, we'll do it now. Take off your shirt and get
your ass on the stool.  We'll get it over with tonight." My dick moves in my
pants as my haircut fetish  awakens and roams around my brain, taking it
over. Rubbing my nose I'm looking  at Ryan, still hesitating. He says, "Shirt
off and your cute ass on the  stool."


He's taken the clippers out and plugged them in, so I pull my  t-shirt over
my head and walk over to sit on the stool. He goes, "Don't slump  like
that!" I sit up straight with the back of my hand at my nose when the  clippers
are turned on making that barber clippers sound. It's funny but I can't
make myself complain about this. I guess I'm programmed, or more likely I still
 feel a little guilty about blowing up all those plans we made. Ryan pushes
my  head roughly over to my left shoulder and then runs the clippers up the
right  side of my head. He's always cut hair too fast. Less than two
minutes later my  head's pushed forward so my chin's hitting my chest, held there
by Ryan's left  hand as the clippers are finishing up the back of my head
going over the crown  and on top a few inches towards the front. My cock is so
hard it aches. I love  and hate my haircut fetish simultaneously. Ryan's
been dominantly giving me this  haircut for over three months now and because
of the familiarity of the process  I no longer automatically spontaneously
cum in my pants. Occasionally it still  happens, but not this time. I'm short
of breath and very stimulated in a sexual  way from Ryan's dominant hair
cutting. I've got the hard boner, but when he's  finishing the haircut using
the trimming clippers there's only a spray of precum  in my pants. "All done
for another week, Danny." Like always, when he's done I'm  feeling my head.
There's like this humiliating-scalped-embarrassed feeling being  dominated
getting a haircut like this. It always makes me feel put in my place  by
Ryan, which is why he does it. I also feel very vulnerable and submissive to
him after these haircuts. "Clean the clippers, Danny, and put the stuff away."
 He rubs my head roughly, chuckling, "I got ya good this time, didn't I?"
and he  pushes my head, "Clean the hair up too." My eyelids are half closed
as I go  about the clean up.


With my boner refusing to go down I put everything away as my  submissive
trance leaks away. I'm thinking maybe I'll give in and suggest we  have a hot
fuck after all. I'm so horny and halfway to an orgasm as it is. No, I
won't let myself do that, I've got my pride. I should at least tell him he's not
 keeping his part of the bargain though. My part is to let him be in-charge
this  summer so that he'll impress his parents that, gay or not, he has
leadership  abilities. I also helped him overcome his rumored-reputation from
last summer so  he could meet and become friends with some of his Marietta
peers. Lastly I  supported him on the job. All of these things I've done much
better than I  expected. For his part he was to do good sub/dom sex and be
in-charge generally,  and somehow I'd learn to be more mature. The mature
part is on me though, and  I've only lately begun working on that by realizing
my childhood fantasy is just  that, a childhood fantasy that has little to
do with reality. That's a synopsis  of the plans we made prior to this
summer. Where Ryan's not fulfilling his part  is the sex part. If he can't see
that then fuck him. I'm not  asking.


After running that through my brain I'm out of my submissive  fog and
feeling a little pissed-off. Ryan's sitting on his motorbike watching  me. I
zipper up the toiletry kit as he asks, "Why the sour puss, babe? And don't  you
dare tell me it's because of your haircut." Looking at him, I'm shrugging,
"No, not at all. I've got only four more of your haircuts coming to me, and
then  that's it, no mas, as our Spanish speaking friends say." He goes, "No
more, huh?  I thought you said you'd want me to continue with the
haircutting if I stopped  using the clipper up on top of your awesome head." I say,
"Changed my mind." He  gets off the bike grinning, "You're pouting, ain't
cha?" I grin back, "Nope, no  pouting. Let's go watch some basketball." He comes
over putting his hand on my  head, smirking and asking, "No hat for you
tonight?" I almost gasp with desire,  his face is so close to mine. I shake my
head at his 'no hat' question. He says,  "I've never known you to be this
stubborn before. Not about this." I croak out,  "Whaddaya mean?" He rubs his
nose against mine, a little grin on his lips,  murmuring, "I give in, you
win, please give me a kiss." My first inclination is  to swallow his tongue,
but instead I mumble, "Okay, since you asked,' and our  lips come together.
His magical tongue has it's way and my arms go around him  and his around me
for a long wet open mouth kiss as we hump our hips together  and then grind
them. His gently humping hips, and the kissing turns my dick into  a stone
statue.


My fingers run through the hair on the back of his head as our  faces move
against one another spreading our spit all around our mouths. We're  hungry
for one another. Ryan's up on his toes with his hands on my buttock
squeezing and pulling our cocks together. We both finally gasp for air then lick
each other's mouth. He reaches down and yanks my shorts past my hips, then my
 underpants. This is lust for me, not love. It's so obvious to me now I
can't  believe I mistook it for love as recent as a week ago. Ryan squeezes my
bare ass  until I grunt, "Ow!"  He turns me around keeping a hand on my
shoulder as  he pulls his big cock out, then changes his mind I guess because he
turns me  around again waving his cock at me. I drop to my knees taking his
cock in  my fingers, then suck that big fat thing into my mouth. There's
lubricant  residue on it which throws me for a second before remembering Ryan
was fucking  Jeff earlier. So, he uses a condom with Jeff, and I guess with
Mike too. His  cock was firm enough to fuck with when I put it in my mouth,
but I guess Ryan  wants a really hard boner to do me up right. "That's
enough, Danny. Stand up  now."


One last suck on the bulbous head of his cock gets me a few  bubbles of
precum, then I stand up and look at Ryan. I'm panting like a dog in  heat as he
gets a hand behind my head pulling it down to him and gives me one of  his
special kisses as precum drips from the head of my cock to make a quiet
couple of drip sounds on the cement floor. Ryan slowly turns me around and then
the wet head of his cock is pressing  against my asshole. No condom for
Ryan and me. He humps it in past my sphincter,  then gets both arms around my
belly pulling me back on to his boner as he pushes  that big hard cock way up
inside me, then gives a final thrust against my butt  cheeks as he grunts,
"Umpth," and I go, "Aaaah, oooh." It's the pain, but my  rectum hasn't
forgotten this cock in only five days. It adjusts in less than a minute and then
I'm going, "Mmmm,  Albert, your cock feels so good up my ass." He nestles
the side of his face near  my ear, "I missed you. Doesn't my cock feel good,
Danny?" I nod my head, "Uh  huh, feels good, really good." My boner is
already sticking straight out from my  groin pulsating and my balls are hot, hard,
and heavy. Ryan says, "We do good  sex together, don't we, baby?" I nod
again breathing through my nose to keep  from moaning like it's my first time
being fucked.


Ryan pulls that big dick back with me shuddering and quietly  moaning.
Awesome sensations sparkle off my prostate as that fat cock's shaft  passes
slowly and very tightly by, and then when the engorged fat head moves  partially
over it my head goes back on his shoulder as I shudder again, now I  can't
stop moaning out loud from sexual pleasure. Five or six tantalizingly slow
trips of his hard cock up and then all the way back, then in expanding the
walls  of my rectum like scratching an unbearable itch. With each slow thrust
Ryan's  sucking air in between his partially closed lips making almost a
whistling  sound. He murmurs, "Oh Danny, this feels like home, my friend,"
then, "Here we  go," and it's the sound of music, "Slap, slap, slap, slap," now
as he does  fast fucking in my opened-up asshole. The fat cock creates
almost unbearably hot  sensations around my anus and over my prostate as my hard
boner throbs. I can  picture in my head Ryan's big boner disappearing up my
ass shiny with his precum  that's spread over it. And here it comes back
out with the big vein bulging, the  swollen head halfway way out before
sliding tightly and disappearing back up  inside me. Ryan's cock is the only thing
in my world right now. There's nothing  else but this indescribable sexual
pleasure. Harder, faster, thrusting now,  "Slapslapslapslap," and my back
arching as I squeal humping my hips and a six  foot long string of cum shoots
straight out from my quivering wide open pee slit  hitting the table where
the barber stuff sits. More hard thrusting from Ryan and  another three nice
spurts of cum shoot from my super-sensitize hard  penis.


I'm shaking with my body feeling tinkles all over, then  another shudder.
Leaning over I grab my knees gasping with dizzying  pleasure-sensations that
are buzzing and rippling around my belly and lower  down, then it fades and
my vision clears. All that's left is a wonderful feeling  of contentment,
plus my jolting body from Ryan's continuing hard thrusting. His  awesome cock
still feel good up my ass even after my orgasm, but he soon gets to  his
point of no return holding my ass tight against his groin humping against my
butt cheeks shooting his load into my bowels. I feel it hit and tighten my
sphincter muscles doing another little shoulder shudder. Ryan's breathing
loudly, catching his breath, then humping against me some more before he leans
 over, his chest on my back as he murmurs, "There's no boy pussy better."
We  breathe noisily together for a bit  before I straighten up, saying, "Wow,
I  needed that, Albert." He swings his arm and, "SMACK!" rings out as my
ass  quivers and stings. He goes, "If you needed it so bad why the hell didn't
you  say something ?" I grin, "Because I wanted you to." He rubs my head,
mumbling,  "No shit, I knew that, but you're simply too sexually delicious. I
couldn't  deprive myself of your perky ass any longer. I salute your
stubbornness by the  way." I say, "It's my world-renowned willpower that outlasted
yours." He  chuckles, then says, "Now you've gotta clean-up this mess you
made. Jesus, is  all that cum your's?" I go, "Yeah, I was horny." Ryan wipes
some of his cum off  my ass and then gives up pulling my pants up and
patting my ass. I can feel his  cum immediately wetting through my underpants. It
feels good. After wetting a  rag at the garden hose on the side of the
garage, I drop the rag at the  beginning of my cum streaks, then use my foot to
wipe up most of it. Picking up  the rag,  "Is this okay, Albert?" Ryan looks
at the floor, then points at  the table with a cum streak on it. I go over
and wipe it up. "We good, Albert?"  He says, "Yep," and I toss the rag in the
trash.


Ryan's sort of put back together, then tells me, "Danny you  gotta change
your pants, partner. My cum has leaked through your shorts, and I  think I'll
go in and wash my dick. It's sticky." I shrug, and then from habit  follow
Ryan inside and we go up to his bedroom. Dropping my shorts and  underwear,
I ask, "Can I wear a pair of your underpants and shorts? I don't feel  like
going upstairs." Then I add, "Hey, I'm still getting little thrills from
that great fuck you laid on my ass." He nods his head at his bureau and I pull
 open the first drawer and pick-up the top pair of underwear and pull them
on. I  like wearing other guys underwear. Is that immature, do ya think? I
don't know,  I think it's sexy. Ryan's in his bathroom so I go through
another drawer and  chose a pair of his shorts and put them on too. Ryan comes out
and smiles,  shaking his head, grinning at his clothes I'm wearing. He rubs
my scalped head  again, saying, "See what happens when you don't bitch
about the haircut. Good  boys get fucked." I go, "Yes, daddy." He grins goosing
my ass, "Come on, sexy,  lets watch a little basketball. Some of those guys
are really good." Going down  stairs together he takes my hand and after a
few steps drops it, saying, "Oops,  I forgot we're not boyfriends anymore." I
say, "I don't mind if you hold my  hand," and he just shakes his head. He
can't go halfway with anything. Man, that  sex felt good though! I stare at
him thinking he's pretty special. In the  garage, I hug him from behind,
saying, "It's okay if you want to do that again,  Albert."


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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