Date: Sat, 1 Aug 2015 19:04:47 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION   Chapter  4

DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION


Chapter  4


by  Donny  Mumford


It's early Wednesday morning and I'm in Parker Jeter's  bathroom taking
care of a much needed piss, and sighing with relief as I do it.  When done I
lean against the sink, then mumble, "Fuck it," and with some  apprehension I
sit on the throne seeing if my ass is ready for number two. My  apprehension
is due to the soreness in my rectum. Ryan's been fucking me  regularly and
then last night Parker fucked me a couple of times so hard it left  my rectum
on life support for awhile there. Surprisingly it's much better this
morning, a little sore but not a problem. Huh, I gotta give a shout-out to my
ass! Okay, I might as well do the whole bathroom routine now that I've got
number one and two out of the way. After washing my hands and face really
well,  I use my finger as a toothbrush and then gargle with minty mouthwash.
Lastly I  swallow a couple of Advil from a bottle I found in their well stocked
medicine  chest. Huh, I do feel a tiny bit better, which isn't saying much
as I could  hardly feel worse. Looking at myself in the mirror I'm unhappy
about my  bloodshot eyes and how pale I am. Yeah, but it appears I've
survived last  night's pot and booze party. I'm still a little drunk and later the
hangover is  gonna be a bitch! There's a price to pay for everything. Then I
hear, "Come back  to bed, Dylan, it's only seven o'clock." I'm dizzy and a
little unsteady on my  feet, so going back to bed sounds like a damn good
idea to me. In the bedroom I  crawl back in bed with Parker, who's covering
his mouth with his hand, saying,  "You smell nice and fresh, but I've got a
bad case of morning breath and I'm too  lazy to get up and do something about
it." I mumble, "Don't ya need to take a  piss at least " and he goes, "Oh
fuck, I was trying to  ignore that! Thanks a lot! Yeah, ha ha, and since you
mentioned it I gotta do  it." He slides out of bed muttering, "My fucking
head hurts," as he walks around  the bed and staggers into the bathroom.


Pulling his pillow over, I'm thinking, 'I probably should  have shampooed
his hair before the haircut last night.' And obviously I  didn't do a good
job of rubbing his head after the haircut to get the  clipped hairs off. I see
some on his pillow and a few are sticking to my  face. Putting his pillow
back on his side of the bed I hear an electric  toothbrush running and a two
minutes later Parker's standing at my side of the  bed, mumbling, "Move over
so I don't have to walk around the bed again."  Sliding over to his side I
try grabbing my pillow, but he gets it first.  Grinning, he says, "My pillow
has prickly hair clipping from my  haircut, and your pillow smells like
you, so which one would you guess I'm  gonna use?" I mumble, "Guess you'll use
whichever one you want." Laying my head  on his pillow, I pull the covers up
and as they settle down on us  a whiff of his body scent puffs in my face
from under the sheets.  Stronger BO than I noticed last night, but it's not
especially offensive because  it's combined with his macho scent, which
reminds me of an auto-repair garage,  plus the way new tires smell, and I'm
guessing there's an oil or grease smell  mixed in as well.  Whatever the hell it
is, it works for me. Parker  murmurs, "Cuddle with me, Dylan." We meet in
the middle of this king-size bed  and get our arms around each other. Great
body on this guy. Parker's stiff beard  scrapes my cheek and that plus his
scent and hairy legs are giving me a boner.  I'm basically a walking boner
anyway, so it's not a big surprise I have sprung  another one. Boners feel good.
I get one of my legs in between his, my  other leg's against his leg
nearest me. He murmurs in my ear, "Your boner's  poking my nuts." We rustle around
some more, then sigh and relax. He rubs my  shoulders a little, then my
head before settling down, but we don't go back to  sleep yet.


Laying together quietly for a few minutes, neither of us is  sober yet, and
me with this nice boner. Plus I'm rubbing my foot against his  hairy leg
making Parker chuckle, asking, "Um, are you a little bit horny this  morning,
Dylan?" I mutter, "Whatever gave you that idea?" He chuckles again  giving
my body a squeeze, then pushes on the back of my head which can only mean
one thing. What the hell, why not? So I go under the covers and get between
his  hairy legs on my knees, scrunched down rubbing my hands up and down his
calves  before picking up his penis, the same penis that fucked me twice last
night.  Stroking it a few times I'm noticing that the scent coming off his
cock and  balls is a bit raunchy, but I can do raunchy once in awhile.
Speaking of  raunchy, there's cum crusted on his dick which needs to be licked
off first  before I'll get a true taste of his cock. As I'm doing that,
Parker's grunting  and squirming on the bed as his cock is firming-up nicely. With
my nose this  close to his groin, I make a management decision that his
balls are on the  other side of a raunch line that I won't cross. They'll be no
balls licking this  morning. He'll have to make do with just getting his
cock sucked. Parker takes a  break from squirming and moaning to throws the
covers off of us so he can watch  me suck his cock. It's a fairly hard boner
by now and I'm rubbing the head back  and forth on my warm wet tongue as his
hips hump slightly and he's back to  making quiet sounds of arousal, "Ummm,
oh fuck, ooh, oooh, yeah, like that,  ummmm, fuck yeah." He's my cheering
section, encouraging me onward.


Taking as much of his hard cock into my mouth as I can without  the head
bumping my gag reflex area, I lick and suck on it hungrily really  getting
into it. I'm doing a little moaning myself by now with my  boner tightening-up
even more, and oh man does it feel good. Precum  squirts from his cock
making him gasp and take a deep breath,  then letting it out slowly and noisily.
Just as I'm considering taking  this hard cock into my throat, Parker says,
"Wait, I'm gonna cum. Stop, Dylan."  So I take his boner from my mouth
looking up at him as he gasps,  "I don't wanna cum this soon," then he asks, "You
want it up the ass  again or do you wanna switch?" That's a nice
invitation. Getting fucked is  usually my first choice, but every time I've 'topped' I
tell myself I should do  it more often, so... "Yeah, I'll top. How 'bout we
do it doggy style?" He  mumbles, "I was hoping you'd say that. Fuck me hard
like I did you last night.  Do you want a condom?" He's getting on his
hands and knees and I'm getting  behind him, up on my knees, muttering, "It's a
little late for a condom, don'cha  think?" He goes, "Hee hee, yeah, I was so
anxious to fuck you last night I  forgot the condom, so bareback it is."


I'm stroking my boner, glancing at his rosebud asshole and  precum bubbles
at the head of my cock. I wipe it off on his anus, then push my  cock
against the wetness. With a little more pressure it slides in sexily past  his
sphincter and we both go, "Aaaaah." His knees are moving a little  spastically
on the mattress as I'm leaning forward with my boner sliding  tightly a
couple of inches up his ass... my shoulders shuddering. I  cover my mouth with a
hand muffling a moan of pleasure because I don't want to  seem like a
novice here, but goddamn this feels good on my dick. Parker mutters,  "Your cock
feels bigger than it looks. It's tight, dude." I slap his ass, "Slap!
Slap!" and he squirms some more, "Yeah, do it, Dylan," so I slap his ass a few
more times while continuing to push my boner inside him. When I'm in all the
way  Parker's back is arching the way mine does sometimes. He's whimpering
with  desire and I'm moaning a little myself, "Oooh, ummm, this feels
goooood." Moans  and groans during sex just happen on their own. Pulling my cock
back gets my  shoulders shuddering again and me holding my breath
concentrating on the sizzle  coming off my cock. Readjusting my position, I stand with
my knees bent, then  grab his hips and start fucking his ass like I mean it
and loving the sexy  familiar anal sex sounds, "Slap,slap,slap,slap,slap," of
bodies smacking  together. Parker increases his moans and groans and I'm
beginning to think he  prefers bottoming. I mean, he's only got one hand on
the mattress now, the other  one he's using to stroke his boner. He's not all
that steady supporting himself  on one hand and consequently his body rocks
back and forth with every thrust up  his ass. I'm driving my boner in there
hard, then pulling it back roughly, and  doing it all over again, and again,
and again...


Every nerve ending in and around my cock and balls  activated awhile ago
and they're sending awesome sensations to the  pleasure part of my brain,
sensations that grow and grow as we go. Parker and me  continue with all the
normal sounds of sexual arousal, doing it a little louder  with every drive up
his ass . We're far enough from Lyle's bedroom that I feel  comfortable
there's no way he can hear our louder and louder moans of sexual  pleasure. My
cock is like one huge pleasure nerve ending like I can hardly  believe, plus
the semi-raunchy scent from my sex partner and his tight  rectum conspire to
make me vocal about how sexually turned-on I am by all  this. Parker
apparently has a super-sensitized rectum because he's whining  and moaning while
trashing around on the bed like it's the first time he's ever  been fucked,
the mattress bouncing so much it makes me think of fucking on  a small boat
in a choppy sea. The sounds he's making are getting higher pitched  with each
hump up his ass. Harder thrusting now as my climax has been activated  and
my nuts are doing their job by getting hard with the cum they've cleverly
manufactured. Cum I'm desperate to shoot into Parker's bowels. Faster and
harder, "Slapslapslapslap," as Parker pushes his legs back almost laying  flat
on the bed but keeping his ass up a little so he can continue jerking off
as he's getting fucked. Double your pleasure, dude! I'm straddling him now
driving my cock inside him realizing my orgasm's on me hot and heavy now,
I'm  going to have a climax momentarily. I make my own whining sounds holding
my  crotch tightly against his buttocks humping on it, then squeal as cum
pumps from  my nuts flying up and out the head of my enormously sensitized
penis.  Parker makes a girlish shrill sound, his body stiff as he does a
violent body  shudder, and I suppose climaxes on the bed underneath him. As for
me, his  violent shudder pushed me backwards and my boner comes out of his ass
just as  it's shooting a second string of cum, this one streaking up his
back.  Shaking with delicious sensations as my cock fires three little
additional  spurts of spunk, which pretty much finishes off my orgasm. I'm laying
on my back  now, resting on Parker's hairy legs panting. Sensations from my
orgasm sizzle  around my entire groin and then begin fading allowing my
hangover sensations to  return and I groan at the mixture of sexual pleasure and
a slightly sick  feeling.


Rolling off his legs I lay at the foot of the bed breathing  hard and
dealing with my headache. The fucker's come back worst than ever with a  pounding
drum inside my head now. Parker's still moaning quietly and stroking
himself. That girlish shrill sound he made while climaxing surprised me. He
doesn't seem the type. Oh fuck though, that felt great for the five minutes we
were doing it. Unfortunately now I feel like I'm going to throw up. Putting
bourbon shots in beers should be against the law, and that fucking weed!
Damn,  the price you need to pay for doing that threesome of beer, bourbon,
and weed  makes a person think twice about doing it again. Rolling off the bed
I stagger  back into the bathroom to wash my dick, then my hands and face,
and  more gargling with mouthwash. What I need is a shower, but I'm too
beat-up  to take one now. Parker comes into the bathroom gulping and pulling on
his soft  dick, muttering, "That felt good, Dylan. I can't decide what I
Like better,  'topping' or 'bottoming', but I'm leaning towards the bottom." I
shrug, asking,  "Should we take a shower?" He shakes his head, "Not now, I
couldn't do it now. I  need more sleep, but feel free if you wanna take one."
I shake my head,  increasing the speed of the pounding drum inside my head.
Fuck! After drying my  face and hands I get back in bed feeling dizzy
again. Parker's climbs in bed  behind me, both of us needing sleep. We're on his
original side of the bed  because his puddle of cum is on the other side,
but some of my cum is now on  this side as it wipes off Parker's back. I don't
think he even knew it was  there. Then he flops over to lay on his stomach,
mumbling, "I'm laying in  something wet," and he does a couple of deep
sighs, then mutters, "Good  sex, dude. Wish you lived around here." He puts an
arm across my chest and in  two minutes the lights go out for me.


Waking up for the second time this morning I hear a woman  with a heavy
Spanish accent talking in the kitchen along with the sound of  dishes and
glasses clinking together. Parker's not in bed so I stagger into the  bathroom to
take another piss, then hunt around for a clean washcloth and towel.  The
closet is full of them and I'm soon under the two shower heads with hot
water flowing over me. With my eyes closed I try taking inventory of how I feel,
 and settle on... lousy. That's my best diagnosis, I feel lousy. Well,
lousy's  better than other worse ways I could feel. Bottom line, I expect to
live another  day. It's almost one o'clock so obviously all that sleep was
necessary for me  to be able to feel as good as lousy. I don't know if Ryan's up
yet, but I'm  guessing he's not or he would have gotten me up earlier. His
trip itinerary is  totally fucked now because we'll never get three hundred
miles in today, not  that I give fuck personally. Drying myself, I decide
I'm feeling a little  better than lousy now. Okay, I know today is going to
blow because of my  hangover, but tomorrow will be better. Gotta look at the
positive side of life.  In Parker's bedroom I'm going through the drawers in
his bureau looking for  clean underwear. Then pick out a pair of
newish-looking boxer shorts. They fit  fine so I leave my own dirty underwear as a
trade. When dressed I go into the  kitchen and see the cleaning person has all
the glasses off the table and into  the dishwasher, and the kitchen in
general looks neat and clean. Lyle and Parker  are at the table eating scrambled
eggs and drinking coffee. We mumble 'good  morning', then I ask, "Where's
Ryan?" Lyle says, "He's sleeping. When I got up  an hour ago he was so still I
couldn't see him breathing, so I felt for a pulse.  Scared the shit out of
me, but he's alive." I nod my head, mumbling, "I'm gonna  get him up." The
smallish woman asks if I want breakfast and I try for a smile,  mumbling, "No,
but thank you."


I wanna get out of here now, that's what I want. Awake and  completely
sober for the first time in fifteen or sixteen hours I realize I'm  basically
with strangers, nice strangers, but still they're strangers. I'm  getting the
same 'stranger' vibes back from the brothers even though Parker and  I had a
number of intimate sexual encounters together. Yeah, sexual encounters
between strangers. Under the influence of booze and various banned  substances
everything seems cool and logical, when obviously it isn't. In Lyle's
bedroom Ryan's in the same position I saw him in seven o'clock this morning. He
wakes up as soon as I shake his shoulder. His eyes pop open and he holds
his head with both hands, then closes his eyes again, groaning, "Ooooh, fuck.
Jesus, this sucks. Um, what time is it, Dylan." I mumble, "Don't freak out,
but  it's after one o'clock." He doesn't freak out, but he does try to put
the blame  on me, "Oh that's just great, Dylan! Why didn't you wake me
sooner?" I give him  a dead-eyed stare that he doesn't see because his eyes are
closed, then I say,  "Whatever, I'm getting you up now. Do you want to take a
shower?" He shakes his  head, "Nah, I just want to get outta here." I
mumble, "Me too," and help him up.  He does some stretching and yawning. Then, as
we walk from Lyle's bedroom  through the living room, I'm quietly saying,
"Short and sweet with the goodbyes,  and then lets get the fuck on our way."


In the kitchen there's some half-hearted  comments exchanged, like Lyle
thinking Ryan died, then some stuff  like, "Dude, you rock! Great time, thanks
for everything but we gotta hit the  road." Some one-arm, half-ass hugs and
we're outside walking away, relieved to  be on our own again. After walking
a block, Ryan asks, "Where's the car?"  "It's across from Burger King, don't
you remember parking it there?" "Where the  fuck's that, Dylan?" I go,
"Follow me," and I add, 'Ya dumb ass!' I  have no problem retracing the four
blocks we walked last night, and there's the  Mini just like we left it. Ryan
unlocks it with the computer key, muttering,  "You drive," as he gets in the
passenger seat. Fine with me, but he dozes off  again and isn't any help
finding the motel, so I get lost. Luckily I  finally see a small billboard
advertising the Days Inn and two minutes  later I'm pulling up to the room we
paid for, but didn't use last night. Ryan's  still totally fucked-up so I go
inside and repack his suitcase, get our toiletry  kits from the bathroom, and
load everything in the car. Ryan's laying back,  mumbling, "Put the top
down, Dylan. I need fresh air." I do that, then go  back in for my duffle bag
and when coming out with it the weenie from the  front desk is waiting for
me, saying, "Excuse me, sir. The check-out time is  eleven so we'll need to
add a surcharge to your credit cards." I look at him for  a second, then
mumble, "Do not fuck with me, dude, we didn't even use the  fucking room. Check
it out." He goes, "Whether you used the room or not, it was  assigned to you
and that's all that matters," My face gets red, I'm so pissed  off. Then,
through clenched teeth I growl, "Listen you dumb fuck, if I see a  single
penny added to our debit cards we'll come back here and trash this  Bates motel
of your's, and probably you with it." He says, "I'm calling  the police," I
mumble, "Go head, asshole, the cops love being bothered with  petty shit
like this. They'll also love having one of their coffee  and donut breaks
interrupted when they find out what your problem  is."


Throwing the duffle bag in the back seat I get in, give the  weenie the
finger, and do a wheelie out of the parking lot spraying  the dufus with
gravel. I'm so angry at that ignorant hick it brings back my  pounding headache.
Ryan sighs, then mumbles, "Handled very tactfully,  Dylan," and I mutter,
"Fuck him," thinking, 'and fuck you too for all  the help you were.' I have no
problem negotiating the mile back to  the highway, but just before getting
on it I pull into a gas station to refill  the tank. And, yippee, it has a
Dunkin' Donuts attached to their convenience  store. First I fill the tank and
get a receipt, then I park in front of Dunkin'  Donuts, asking, "Ya want
something from here, Ryan? I'm getting orange juice and  coffee, and maybe a
breakfast sandwich." Ryan says, "Yeah, get me a big cold  Coke and a regular
medium coffee." I ask, "Ya want a breakfast sandwich or  something?" He
slowly shakes his head, "Fuck no, I couldn't eat anything." Jeez,  what an
asshole! Inside I get a bottle of OJ and a Coke from the cooler and then  order
two medium coffees. As the lady's getting the coffees, I go, "Ya  know what,
I'll have one of your breakfast sandwiches too." She asks,  "Which one?" and
I'm like, "The, um, previously made artificial  egg, sausage, and cheese
sandwich on a fake English muffin that you'll  reheat in the microwave to the
degree of lava." She laughs, "Coming up." I need  something in my stomach to
soak up the remaining booze. After paying I get  a receipt, then carry the
stuff to the car throwing the two receipts at  Ryan. He mutters, "Prick," as
he picks-up the receipts from the floor and  logs them in, then puts them
in the folder for his mother to verify.  The cost of this trip is adding up
even though we're kinda slumming  it.


We sit in the Mini drinking our drinks in silence. After  taking a bite of
the breakfast sandwich, I reluctantly offer Ryan a bite. He  looks at it in
my hand like it's a dog turd, then shrugs, "Yeah, let me try a  bite." He
takes a bite and we end up passing the sandwich back and forth  taking turns
eating it. Ryan getting the last bite. Huh. I mumble, "I'll get us  another
one." Inside the lady chuckles when I order another, and as she's
micro-waving it, she asks, "Marines?" I frown for a second and then  remember my
haircut, and give her one of my high voltage smiles, saying,  "Semper fi." She
manages not to sexually attack me, which is always the  danger when using my
high voltage smile. Instead she takes the nuclear-hot  breakfast sandwich
from the microwave, asking, "What's that mean, honey,  simper fi?" I go, "It's
Latin for 'always faithful." Putting the sandwich in a  little white Dunkin'
Donut's bag, she smiles, saying, "This one's on the house,  honey. You're
the cutest marine I've ever seen. Thank you for your  service." I do a
salute, saying, "Thank you!" Fuckin' haircut comes in handy  sometimes.


Back in the Mini, Ryan and I eat this sandwich the same way we  ate the
first one, passing it back and forth. He asks, "Where'd you sleep last  night?"
I go, "On the couch mostly, but later I crashed in Parker's room. I  was so
out of it, dude!" He mumbles, "Not as out of it as I was. I don't  remember
shit after taking a few hits off that bong pipe." I shrug, "We  fucked-up
our schedule, ya know," and Ryan's like, "Fuck a whole  bunch of schedules!
So, we get home later than lunchtime Friday. It  doesn't matter." No, it
doesn't, not to me.  Pulling away from the  parking lot the wheels squeal with
Ryan giving me a dirty look, but he sees  my expression and decides not to
comment on my driving. Five or six minutes  later I drive onto the entrance
ramp as Ryan asks, "You okay to drive for  awhile?" I nod, "Oh, I'm feeling
awesome, whaddaya think?" and he mutters,  "Good," and kinda gets comfortable
bunching his jacket up to use as a  pillow. No CD because the top's down
and traffic noise is loud, especially  the tractor trailers, but the air feels
good blowing all around us and it's  sunny and clear. A really nice day
except for our hangovers and  grumpiness.


I drive straight through, almost in a trance, until a little  after five
o'clock without stopping for anything. Ryan did volunteer to take  over the
driving around three-thirty but I took pity on him knowing that bong  pipe
messed with his head something awful. I managed to miss out on the bong by
getting fucked on the patio about the time they fired it up. I dodged a bullet
in that regard, and therefore I don't feel quite as bad as Ryan. We check
into  another Days Inn with me half expecting the guy on his computer to see
a wanted  poster for me from the last Day's Inn. But, nope, nothing like
that. By now the  most hideous part of our hangover has reduced to just a
horrible empty  feeling with remnants of a headache, so we decide we need
something to  eat. I drive around until I find an Italian restaurant where we gorge
 ourselves on pasta, meatballs, crusty bread, salad and three ice teas
each. We  eat the mediocre food without much talking, split the bill and outside
Ryan  says, "I shouldn't do it, but I'm going to try a cigarette.  I'm
having nicotine withdrawal, I guess." We're in the restaurant's  parking lot
leaning against the Mini as he lights a cigarette and takes a drag,  drops it
on the ground and steps on it twice, then without a word we get  in the car
and I drive back to the motel. It's only seven-thirty, so too  early for bed,
especially considering we've only been up a little over six  hours. We
watch the non high-def TV in the room, bitching about the picture  quality, but
other than that there's not much talking, and no mention of sex.  After a
basically shitty evening, grumpy with each other, we finally  get in bed
around ten o'clock.


Thursday morning I'm awake at seven o'clock thinking that  twenty-four
hours ago I was also awake at seven. There's no comparison though,  I'm still
feeling out of sorts, but nothing like yesterday morning. It's obvious  I'm
not going back to sleep this morning so I take a shower and do all the  things
most people do in the bathroom. Dragging clean underwear, cargo shorts,
and a too-big t-shirt out of my duffle bag I get dressed and wake Ryan. He's
still a little fucked-up and grumpy as he goes in for a shower. I go outside
for  some fresh air and sit on the chair next to our door looking at
nothing in  particular until three doors down a man comes out humping a big
suitcase. He's  followed out by a teenage boy with bright red hair and lots of
freckles,  then the kid's redheaded little sister comes out too. The boy's
probably fifteen and he'd be cute except for his big nose. Noses are the number
 one cause for people being unattractive. A shame really, but it's the luck
of  the draw and Nature can be a real bitch about the genes juggling
between man and  woman during procreation, and all that shit that produces us
humans. The  boy's got a typical teen scowl on his face of course, and he's
complaining  constantly about everything to no one in particular. His father's
back and forth  from their room loading the car. Finally the father stops and
exasperatedly,  says, "Just please shut the fuck up, Artie, please! Just
for a minute, don't say  a fucking thing." The little girl screams, "I'm
telling mommy," and she  runs back into the room anxious to squeal on her dad for
using a naughty  expletive. I blow out my cheeks in a long exhale as the
mother comes running  out, screeching, "For chrissake, Will, not in front of
Cissy, and you," as she  points at Artie, "You are not ruining this trip. We
took you to Disney  World when you were Cissy's age and now it's you're
sister's turn." Artie says,  "That's just ef'en great!  We'll spend every day in
the Magic Kingdom  singing 'It's a small world,' over and over. And to
think I could have stayed  with Gene 'cause his parents said it was alright,"
and the father says, "Oh  sure, so you and that hoodlum could smoke pot all
day and night." Artie  gets in the station wagon's back seat slamming the door
and putting head  phones on, pouting.

I guess I'm invisible... they went through their little drama  without so
much as glancing at me sitting here a couple of doors down from them.  Oh
well, another happy family trip to Disney World on the cheap. The guy's got
New York license plates, so they drove down from New York with Artie  probably
bitching all the way. At night they stay in dumps like this, then stay  at
a hotel outside Disney World and commute back and forth each day. Poor
bastards. The parents are trying to do something nice for their kids, but the
teenager couldn't care less. He's all about  himself, and the parents can't
control their tempers, while the little girl  senses she's the center of
attention and acts like a spoiled brat and it's all  an expensive big fucking
mess. As I'm analyzing the human condition Ryan  comes out and pulls the chair
over from next door and sits on it, not saying  anything for a minute, then
he asks, "Whassup?" I shrug, "Nothing, mostly  I'm working up the nerve to
try a cigarette." He says, "Lets get coffee  first," and we walk around to
the little coffee shop next to the motel. I could  use a breakfast at a diner
right about now, but settle for a Krispy Kreme donut. Ryan watches me eat
the donut  sipping his coffee making that slurping sound I hate. After the
hundredth slurp,  I go, "Do you mind? Don't slurp, drink it." He mumbles, "Go
fuck yourself," then says, "That was frozen, ya know. That donut." I ask,
"How  do you know?" He shrugs, "The closest state where Krispy Kreme donuts
are  sold fresh is my home state of Georgia." I take another bite,  mumbling,
"It's still good." We're continuing to get over our major liquor loads  and
dope fest Tuesday night. It takes time alright. Fucking  hangovers.

When we're back in our room packing-up and  loading our  stuff in the car,
I'm looking at the sky pissed-off that it looks like rain with  dark clouds
above. I hate driving on highways in the rain. Today the top's up on  the
Mini Cooper with Ryan finally taking a turn driving. No talking when he's
driving, of course, he needs to concentrate. Jesus!  The rain starts almost
immediately with Ryan mumbling under his breath. For something to do, I texts
everybody I can think of and get 'ding' after 'ding' in replies making me
laugh at the funny shit the guys text. We text back and forth, 'ding' 'ding'
 'ding' and this goes on for half an hour until Ryan yells, "Will you
please stop  doing that! I can hear the subtle sound with every key you touch and
that  dinging is driving me fucking crazy! Please, for the love of god, put
that  fucking cellphone away." Well, I guess we're not getting along as
well as I  thought we were. Showing my maturity I hit four or five random keys
out of  spite, staring at Ryan, but get no response. I do not put my
cellphone  away, instead I read my emails. Robby and Danny both sent me reports of
their  first days on the job with the landscaping crew. As I read the words
I'm feeling  a tinge of jealousy. Actually I'd like to hear more about
what's going on,  but I don't dare email back now because Ryan might go postal on
me. Chubby has a  sweet email for me too making me wipe a tear from my eye
as I'm reading it, and  then he goes on this hilarious rant about Danny's
first time trying the BIG  mower and how it got away from him cutting down
three rose bushes. He tells me  Rob should never have put Danny on the BIG
mower this soon. I'm trying to  control my laughing while getting dirty looks
from Ryan, but Chubby has a funny  way with words. God, he's a funny dude.
Doing some fake coughs, trying to stop  laughing gets another dirty glance from
Ryan. I reread Chubby's email getting  the giggles again, then realize it
probably strikes me as so funny because  Danny's the brunt of the humor. Huh,
and it's odd neither Robby or Danny  mentioned anything about this big
mishaps to me in their emails. I feel kinda  bad about laughing now. Robby
probably blames himself. Then I hear, 'bing',  'bing' as two more texts come in
and I sneak a peek at Ryan who's got this  pissed-off look on his face. Ha
ha, I put my hand over my mouth snickering.  The last couple of 'dings'  are
probably more follow ups to my  text earlier. Ryan looks ready to jump out
the window though, so I turn my  cellphone off with an audible sigh to show
I'm a little pissed off about  it. The Mini's windshield wipers leave a smear
on the windshield that makes  it hard to see through the rain.


Neither of us says a word for the next two hours, then the  rain stops just
as Ryan's getting off at an exit where gas and food were  advertised a mile
back. We have a pretty good lunch at a local restaurant in  North Carolina,
and then after filling the tank with gas I take over the  driving. The sun
comes out as I'm backing out of our parking spot and I hear  more muttering
under his breath from Ryan. During lunch Ryan and I had  a half decent, if
stilted, conversation reminiscing as much as we  could remember about that
night at Parker's and Lyle's place. I forget to  mention the three fucks
Parker and I participated in, and Ryan doesn't seem  curious anyway. He sort of
apologized for being an asshole the last twenty-four  hours, and I was like,
"Forget about it, hangover's can make some people  irritable and they act
like immature assholes because of it." He frowned trying  to figure out if I'm
referring to him. So anyway I think we're on our way back  to civility,
which is a pretty fast turn around everything considered.  We make it into
South Carolina, stopping at a Knights Inn for the  night. It's late afternoon
Thursday so we're getting dangerously close to  Georgia, much to my chagrin.
There's a pool at the motel for a change, and it's  quite warm now. A
negative person might even say it's very hot  and humid here, so after checking in
we go for a swim. Not a very long swim  though as six or seven young kids
have sort of taken over the pool. The kids are  about nine or ten years old
playing Marco Polo with lots of screaming.  That's a game I never quite got.
To make matters worse two of the kids' mothers  are refereeing with shrill
voices correcting mistakes in the game and  settling the constant arguing
between the kids. Suffice to say lots of jumping  into the pool yelling and
bumping into us. Ryan and I roll our eyes and then  swim around for awhile
trying to stay out of the way of these annoying  brats. When the kids switch to
inaccurately tossing around a Frisbee in the pool  we surrender and get out.


In the room, Ryan takes a deep breath, fakes a grins, and  asks, "How's
your pussy? It's been awhile, ya know." Huh, I haven't thought  about my ass
even once for almost two days now. Obvious my ass is all better.  That's what
I used to say as a little kid... I'm all better, mom. Back then when  I'd say
'all better' it usually wasn't about my ass though. Ryan's extended the
olive branch, so to speak, so hoping for happier times between us, I go,  "My
pussy's lonely for your big pecker, Albert," and he says, "Oh man, you
haven't been calling me Albert at all, and we'll be home tomorrow." Ruining our
truce, I mutter, "You'll be home tomorrow. I won't be home until probably
August." He goes, "Don't be like that, Dylan! It's your home for the next ten
 weeks, so deal with it." I shrug only now realizing I'm homesick. It makes
 me feel like a big baby, but I miss everyone and I miss the comfort of my
own  bedroom and mom and Chubby and Robby. Smelling the back of my hand, I
mumble,  "I'm gonna take a shower." All during the shower I feel sorry for
myself  for being in this predicament. Then, while drying I rally and call
myself a wimp because I'm supposed to be maturing during this experience, not
regressing. When I come out of the bathroom Ryan's sulking, hunched in the
only  chair in the room, frowning. Sulking and frowning because I skipped
the sex in  lieu of a shower. I'm feeling kinda bad for him now though. I mean
he tried  making-up and getting us in more pleasant moods. Damn, the poor
kid. I run my  fingers through his hair leaning down to kiss his lips. He
does a little smile,  trying not to, and I feel bad for him again. He's had a
continuously shitty life  before going to college, and even part of the time
at college it was shitty for  him too. Ryan's depending on me so I hug his
shoulders, murmuring,  "I'll be waiting for you in my boxer shorts when you
come out of the  shower, okay?" He leans against me, asking, "Your pussy
too?" I go, "Yes,  Albert. I'm kinda anxious actually, so could you get your big
dick in the  bathroom and take a shower!" He nods his head, "Yep, and
thanks, Dylan."  Standing up he rubs my head, kisses my lips quickly, and goes
into the  bathroom.


I sit in the seat he vacated and hear the shower turn on as I  give myself
a good talking to. I promised myself I'd make the best of this  experience,
the best that I can anyway, and that's what I'm going to do. Having  sex
with Ryan is the one constant I can depend on, and I'm making the best of  that
too. He comes out of the bathroom followed by a cloud of steam as he's
drying his hair with a towel, his big cock swinging between his legs. Getting
up  I go down on my knees in front of him and put his cock in my mouth while
looking  up at him and grinning around his dick. He grins back rubbing my
head with the  damp towel, then tosses it in the chair. He smells like his
bath gel. My  hands squeeze his tight butt cheeks and my mind fills with the
many good times  Ryan and I have had pleasuring each other during sexual
encounters. As I suck his cock and squeeze his buttocks I'm looking up at his
stomach and chest. Awesome muscle definition in his smallish tight body. An
excellent example of the male form, perfectly proportioned and sexy. Ryan's
looking down at me lovingly now, like all is forgiven and he still loves
me. He  begins caressing my head, the back of my neck, and massaging my
shoulders. While  doing that he's making quiet moans of sexual pleasure too, then
sucking his lips  in at the sensations coming off his cock, then there goes
his feet  shuffling a little as the sensations coming off his big cock
become  intense, "Aaah, aah, ummm."


When his cock is a steel boner he holds my head between his  hands and
moves his hips expertly and then tightly slides his cock down my  throat with me
gagging. He ignores my gagging and keeps moving his hips, his big  hard
boner sliding on my tongue as it's deep throating me for maybe a minute. My
cock tightens-up so hard it's again sticking straight out from my groin barely
 able to move. I've slipped into a dreamy submissive frame of mind, my
eyelids  heavy and my brain foggy. Ryan pulls his cock from my throat and I'm
gasping for  oxygen, spit running down my chin and my heart pumping hard as I
take a few more  deep breathes staring at Ryan as he's staring confidently
back at me. He's well  aware of how dominating deep throating is for a
submissive bottom like me,  and for whatever reason this is the most submissive
I've felt so far  this trip. Ryan takes hold of my head again and moves his
hips leaning up and  over my head as he pushes his cock down my throat again,
my nose pressed in his  pubic hairs and flat against his belly. This time
Ryan's head goes back as he  groans and moans at the sensations coming off his
hard cock. I  can hardly imagine how enormously arousing it must be for
him. His  head lifts, "Aaaah, aaah, oooh, mmm," as his cock again pulls up
until the hard  head pops past the gag area unto my tongue drooling precum. He
rubs my head with  both hands while his hips move sliding his boner back and
forth on my  tongue, then he gets my head between his hands and it's another
long deep  throating lasting more then a minutes with Ryan's hips moving
smoothly one, two,  three times and I'm so submissively aroused and turned-on
from the way Ryan's  doing this I'm shaking. I make a gargling sound in my
throat, hump my hips  shooting out a long stream of cum that goes between his
legs splattering on the  carpet, then another hump and more cum blows from
my cock in three quick bursts  with so many sensations firing off around my
groin tears roll down my cheeks. It  felt as good as any orgasm I can
remember.


I'm limp now with Ryan nodding to himself, knowing that he has  me super
submissive to him now. He's partially holding me up with his hands on  either
side of my head when he pulls his hard boner from my throat and steps
behind me roughly pushing at the back of my head and I go down on all fours.
Ryan pulls my boxer shorts halfway down my thighs and smacks my bare ass,
"SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" and an idea gets through the haze of after climax
sensations and I realize he smacked my ass because I'm not holding it up  for him
to mount. With my butt cheeks stinging I push my ass up and get  another,
"SMACK!" so I get it up higher and Ryan mounts me  pushing the precum-slippery
head of his boner inside me. I quietly moan  with pleasure and pain as
sensations all around my cock and balls recede  and the nerve endings in my
rectum come alive. Ryan leans over me as I'm mostly  on all fours with my ass
pushed up, but  to get my pussy high enough to satisfy Ryan I've lifted my
knees off the  floor a couple of inches. He cups my shoulders with both hands
and pulls me back  onto his big boner as he's pushes it steadily in from his
end. I'm like, "Ow,  ow, ow, oh, oh, aaah," but he continues until he's flat
 against my butt cheeks where he humps dominantly against  them and a
thought drifts past my mind that maybe he knows more about Tuesday  night than I
thought he did. It's like he's being extra rough because I was a bad boy, or
maybe he wants to reaffirm he's in charge.  Whatever, it's a fast and
furious hard fuck, "Slap,slap,slap,slap,slap," for  three or four minutes with me
groveling and rocking on my hands and knees, hands  and toes actually. I'm
feeling totally dominated, which  brings back my boner as a follow-up load
begins rapidly assembling in my  balls. There's a buzzing there and waves of
awesome sexy sensations are ringing  off my prostate while the lips of my
asshole sizzle with pleasure. Ryan's grunting and beginning to sound
desperate, and then  he stops thrusting and stays pressed against my ass as a sharp
warmth hits  inside me and Ryan gasps, humping against me again making his
whining sound and  it gets slushy in my rectum with some of his load
squeezing out around the edges of my distended anus and running down to the  back of
my balls before dripping off to the carpet  below.


He lays on my back getting both arms around the front of  my throat lifting
up and my hands come off the floor as I go up on my knees with  Ryan
driving his cock inside me for another minute, just long enough for me to  squeal
as three little shots of spunk shoot from my boner landing a foot away
making my whole body's shake at the overwhelming sensations. Ryan pulls out his
long cock, gives my ass a hard slap, "SMACK!" and he flops backward into
the  chair breathing deeply, his cock still hard. I drop back down on all
fours again  as sensations buzz around my stomach, rectum, and groin with my
shoulders  shuddering and me panting. Then gasping for air and a really
pleasant calm  wonderful feeling drapes over me. I relax with a quiet moan and Ryan
gets up,  "SMACK!" on my buttocks, then he pushes his cock back up inside
my gaping-open  ass with me moaning and squirming on the carpet. He fucks me
hard for three  or four more minutes without either of us getting to a
climax stage. Pulling his  cock out, he sits in the chair again, saying, "Come
here, Dylan." Slowly getting  up on my knees, feeling very submissive, I walk
the three steps on my knees to  the chair he's in and lean my head over
between his legs to his naked lap. He  hugs my head as I'm licking his soft
messy cock, Ryan murmuring, "Good boy,"  again in control. He's running the back
of his fingers against the grain  through the quarter inch hair on top of
my head. Then he gets his hand under my  chin pulling my head up, "That's
enough, baby. Come on, lets lay in bed for  awhile. We'll get dinner later." He
feels totally in-charge which for me can be  a dreamy sexual situation,
although I know it won't last long even though  sometimes I wish it would
because it really rings my bell.


We're on the bed, and with his confidence back Ryan has  a totally
different personality, one I like during most of our sexual  encounters. I let him
baby me, soothingly rubbing his hands over me and hugging  me, "You feel good
after that deep throating and hard fucking I did for  you, don't you baby?"
Ha ha, I feel like saying 'Yes, Daddy' except  he'd know I was being
disingenuous. Anyway I don't feel like saying  anything because I'm enjoying
running the film of that submissive sex I just had  over in my head while Ryan
murmurs hypnotizing words I can't make out. The deep  throating turn-on is
actually a bit of a puzzle because it's very uncomfortable  for me, but at the
same time I get into such a submissive trance it  becomes extremely sexually
arousing bringing on a fantastic climax. The  first one I had tonight I
almost blacked-out. It's like my brain was overloaded  with incredibly intense
sensations of deep pure sexual pleasure during my  climax. So intense I
almost felt unworthy to experience it. I nestle  in against Ryan's smaller body
thinking of Parkers bigger body with his hairy  legs and the mannish mature
beard of prickly whiskers that I imagine could  give someone a rash.
Wouldn't it be awesome getting a beard burn on the inside  of my thighs from Parker
sucking my dick. That gives my body a  little shudder, but it also got my
mind off Ryan and therefore my  submissive trance is fading fast.


When I stretch out on the bed I'm back to real life, asking,  "When we
eating? I'm hungry." Ryan goes, "Damn, I liked it when you were docile  and
couldn't get close enough to me, squirming against me, all submissive  and
everything." I shrug looking at him, "What can I say, it doesn't last as  long as
it used to, but you did a great 'dominant' deep throating tonight, Ryan.
Whoa, you really had me going with that dominant act, that was hot!" Now
it's his turn to shrug, "Yeah, but ya know what? I feel bad for you when I'm
doing it. You're gagging, you can't breathe, and your desperately trying to
snort through your nose. It's nerve racking for me, but I know you like
being  submissive so I keep a stern expression and all that." I go, "Huh, you
used  to have no problem being a dominant prick during our sex." He makes a
face,  getting defensive, "Yeah, because you couldn't get enough of it! I did
it for you, but that was before I fell in love with you and now I hate
doing anything mean to you." Ooh, okay, let's avoid this 'love' topic. Anyway
it's bullshit he did it all for me because he had huge orgasms himself. That
was  then though, and this is now.


We're silent for a minute, then I go, "Um, you know Parker and  I did it
Tuesday night, right?" He says, "Yeah, I knew, but I'm glad you told me
yourself." Huh, he took that pretty well, then he looks at me, saying, "I'm
gonna get very pissed-off though if you do it on the side in Marietta while
living with me." I rub my nose, mumbling, "Yeah, I know," which doesn't give
any  assurance I won't do it. He appears unsure of himself now, so to bolster
his confidence, I say, "I promise not to go looking for it, Albert, if that
 makes you fell any better," and he goes, "You never go looking for it
anyhow, so how about promising you won't do it even if you're invited?" I
mutter, "I'll try," and get out of bed, changing the subject, "Damn, that was
hot sex tonight, boss. I gotta hand it to you." Laying in bed, he grins,
"Come  back here, you," so I put a hand on the mattress and lean down over his
head,  "Yes, Albert?" and he gets his arms around they back of my neck
pulling my  head down for a big sloppy wet kiss, then he just hugs me around the
neck, the sides of our faces sliding together and his sparse curly  short
beard giving my dick a tingle. Nice! Yeah, and it's a good feeling being
loved too. Ryan's basically a sweet kid, but he's damaged, and I'm not sure  how
badly. Maybe I'm about to find out, I mean in a day or two.


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. 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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