Date: Tue, 4 Aug 2015 10:04:40 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION    Chapter  5

DYLAN'S  GEORGIA VACATION


Chapter  5


by  Donny Mumford


Ryan and I had a nice dinner Thursday  night in an actual restaurant for a
change. We've been eating in diners and fast  food joints until now. I
ordered steak, baked potato with sour cream and butter,  plus a really good salad
that came with crusty hot rolls. Ryan had the  special of the house, lemon
sole. Jesus! Anyway, before dinner we checked into a  Knight's Inn, which is
a step up from the Days Inns and Motel 6 we've previously stayed at. This
Knight Inn has a  swimming pool so we had a swim, then after that it got a
little awkward for  awhile. We've both been, especially Ryan, a little testy
due to lingering  hangover affects from Tuesday night's debacle with shots
and beers, bong pipe  and joints. Basically we've been paying the price of
that night ever since.  Wednesday and today we've snapped at each other, and I
guess I kind of dissed  Ryan by not accepting his invitation for sex.
Instead of sex I took a shower,  then felt bad for Ryan and made-up with him. That
naturally led to some hot  make-up sex. And yeah, make-up sex is almost
always really good with both guys  doing their best to please the other. Ryan
rebounded from his sulking by being  an excellent dominant sex partner
getting me into a very submissive mood by deep  throated me roughly, and then
fucking me awesomely. Quite a turn around  actually. He was effectively dominant
with the sex and it put me in a submissive  frame of mind, and for awhile
after the sex too. It felt fantastic from my point  of view, and Ryan's been
acting more confidently in-charge ever since. We're  back to being loving
friends and sex buddies, so that's nice. Well, there's a  little wrinkle in
the love aspect between us, but I think I straightened that  out a few days
ago and it hasn't come up since, mostly because I've been  side-stepping any
conversation remotely linked to the topic of 'love'. I'm in  love, but
certainly not with Ryan although he claims he is with me... that's the  awkward part
I mentioned.


Anyway, tomorrows Friday and we were originally  scheduled to be at Ryan's
house before lunch, but last night he told me we'll  only get within a
hundred miles of Marietta Friday, and then spend one more  night in a motel
rather than get to his place late Friday night. Okay, so now  it'll be Saturday
morning that I meet his parents. It'll be a challenge for me  fitting in for
ten weeks with that family, and maybe for them too, but hopefully  I'm
wrong. In any case I'm kinda nervous about it, and who wouldn't be nervous  in my
place? I've never once met his parents or even talked to them, and god
only knows what Ryan's told them about me. He may have overstated any good
points he thinks I have and I'll never be able to live up to those
expectations.  Or maybe his parents won't give a shit about me one way or the other, and
that  would be fine by me. Or, maybe Ryan's painted a realistic picture of
me and I'll  be pleasantly surprised that everything is cool and goes
smoothly without anyone  feeling uncomfortable. I'll start finding out Saturday
morning one way or the  other. My brother, Chubby, would have Mr. and Mrs.
Wilcox charmed within an  hour, but for me it isn't that easy, so we'll see.


We wake up around nine  o'clock Friday morning, both of us feeling pretty
good now that we're finally  completely over our hangovers. After reasserting
himself last night Ryan's in an  especially good mood this morning. He
says, "Lets get most of the bathroom stuff  taken care of and then we'll get
back in bed and discuss a few things. We'll  shower later. You go first." So I
get up and do my morning bathroom routine,  thinking that 'showering later'
means... after we have sex. Then, smelling of  soap and toothpaste, I jump
back in bed hovering over Ryan, grinning and  expecting a kiss good morning
at least. I get a quick kiss, then he gets up and  goes in the bathroom.
Well, frankly I'm not especially horny this morning, but  I'm expecting a little
sex anyway because it's what we do. When Ryan gets back  in bed, he
mumbles, "Lay there quietly for awhile, Dylan, I'm working something  out in my
head." Fine with me, all I'm basically responsible for is dealing with  this
apprehension I have about meeting his parents, and most of my apprehension
has been created by Ryan because he make's such a big deal out of it. Maybe my
 apprehension is warranted, but for now I'm just waiting for orders. After
all  Ryan's in-charge so let him figure it out. Closing my eyes and
snuggling under  the covers for awhile, I realize I'm probably not going to be able
to go back to  sleep, so I stare at Ryan thinking about how awesome he was
last night in bed.  Damn good sex as usual with him. Finally my curiosity
gets the best of me and I  ask, "What are we doing, Albert? What's the plan?"
He goes, "Shh, I'm running  over in my head the next twenty-four hours or so.
I want so badly for everything  to be perfect." What a nut-case. Nobody
should need to be this concerned over  introducing a good friend to their
parents. I can't imagine anyone I know having  this level of concern. Poor Ryan's
had his brains scrambled somehow by  someone.


Reaching over with a finger,  I brush Ryan's bangs over and off his
forehead. He smiles, then goes up on his  side, saying, "Alright, babe, I gonna run
over the rules with you again." Oh  fuck, not again! So, with him looking
down and me laying on my back all ears, he  lists the rules for me again
emphasizing the one about me calling him Albert,  and I need to remember to say
'Yes sir' or 'yes ma'am' when talking with his  parents, and for me to keep
my mouth shut unless I'm spoken to. He highlights  those points, then
reiterates the other rules he's told me about previously.  Then he goes, "Um, the
most important thing to remember, and this is only for  the first few days...
um, well just do what I tell you to do, basically. We'll get  in a routine
after a few days and I won't need to tell you what to do because  you'll know
by then. That probably sounds awfully blunt and self-serving of me,  and
I'm sorry if it does, but trust me when I say everything will work out  better
if you do what I tell you. Mostly my number one concern is for you and my
parents to get off on the right foot." I nod my head wondering about that
again.  Why is he so worried about his parents, especially because these are
the parents  who supposedly 'dote' on him. Still, I actually don't mind that
Ryan's restating  the rules he thinks are important because I'd like
everything to go smoothly  when we get there too. Then, unconsciously smelling the
back of my hand I ask  myself for the hundredth time, 'Why did I get myself
into  this?' Ryan's acting extra confident, as I mentioned, and being a tad
bossy too, but that fits my mood, which is anything but confident. I'm
certainly  not confident about tomorrow morning. Like Robby, I used to be quite
shy, and  while we've both made a lot of progress in that area during the
past three  years, I'm feeling the tug of that shyness coming back as I
anticipate the  strange new world I'll be in. Ha!, talk about feeling powerless.
The one power I  have is the ability to get up and leave anytime I feel like
it. That's pretty  much the only thing I feel confident about, but it's no
small thing and I need  to remind myself of that. I don't have to do this if
it get's unreasonable,  although I'm concerned about Ryan if I do decide to
bag the whole thing and go  home. I'd sincerely like to help this kid get
over whatever it is that makes him  feel he's not worthy. His whole life
appears to have been sad and lonely before  college and he picked-up on that
theme again last summer.


We're both sitting up in bed  now with me dutifully looking at him and
nodding my head that I understand what  he's saying, although my minds been
wandering a bit. Then he smiles and says,  "Well, okay then, that's about all
the nagging I have for you this morning." He  flips the sheets off us and
pulls his dick out through the slit in his boxer  shorts wiggling it in his
fingers. I'm still thinking about tomorrow as I look  at him juggling his penis,
not quite getting it. Oh, the lecture's over. Huh,  I'm not always as
attentive as I guess I should be, but I get it now. My clue  was him pointing at
his wobbly dick. Ryan wants his 'boy', and that'd be moi,  sucking his cock.
Slowly leaning over, lowering my head to his lap I rub my nose  on his
underpants enjoying his always special personal scent, the one that's  almost
like an aphrodisiac to me. After I inhale his scent deeply, Ryan feeds  his
soft penis into my mouth. I like sucking his cock, and especially the way he
basically ordered me to blow him just now. It gets me feeling a little
submissive right off the bat. Ryan rest his hand on my head, murmuring, "Give me
 some good cock sucking, boy." When he calls me 'his boy' that connects
with my  submissive fetish and we're off to the races. I gulp, licking his cock
while  falling deeper into a submissive frame of mind as my cock's getting
hard along  with his. Wanting to please, I'm licking and sucking his cock
for all I'm worth  bobbing my head up and down on it with the hardening head
bumping the gag  reflect area of my throat every time I go down on it. When
it's very hard I take  his cock from my mouth, hold it in my fingers and lick
it from his balls to the  head, then over the head and down the other side.
A murmured, "Good boy," from  Ryan as he gives me a little condescending
head rub, deepening my submissiveness  as I'm drifting into an almost mindless
dreamy trance. Somewhere in my brain I  know he's playing the dominant role
to the hilt, and doing it for the benefit of  us both. We both like the
sub/dom sex, so for now I pretend it's real dominance,  not a game. I groan
with the delicious feeling of being submissive to Ryan. The  submissive
sensation grows and grows as my cock gets harder and harder until  it's almost
painfully hard, the foreskin stretching to the max.


When his boner is dripping  saliva, Ryan, in that hypnotic monotone way he
talks at times, murmurs, "My  balls now, boy, and get as close to my asshole
as you can." With his long  saliva-soaked boner against my cheek I begin
licking his balls, then lifting  them and licking under his scrotum trying to
reach his asshole. Moving my head  causes his wickedly hard boner to slide
wetly across my face from my left cheek,  over my nose, to the other cheek
leaving a trail of my saliva in it's wake. I'm  almost ready to blow my load
when he pushes my head away, slides down to lay  flat on the mattress with
his knees up, saying, "My asshole now, boy." On my  knees next to his legs I
work his boxer shorts up and over his knees, then down  to his ankles, and
off. Pushing on his ankles lifts his bare ass up off the  mattress. My nose
presses next to the base of his wet scrotum and my tongue  licks across his
asshole a number of times hearing Ryan's moans of sexual  arousal. Fast little
licks over his anus and then my tongue's inside his rectum  tasting acrid
remnants of excrement. Just a remnant though as Ryan  always has a fairly
clean ass.  After three or four penetrations with my tongue Ryan goes over on
his side  moaning, then breathing deeply he's holding up his hand to
indicate he needs a break.


In my deep submissive trance  my brain plays games with me by exaggerating
Ryan's dominance and I snuggle  again him thinking he's awesome. He puts his
arm around me and we stay like this  for a minute or so. Taking a deep
breath, Ryan rolls me unto my back and  straddles me with a knee on either side
of my shoulders. I gaze up at him almost  panting now as I take his hard
cock in my fingers again and slide it into my  mouth on my tongue. Ryan raises
up and forward, then lowers his hips and begins  deep throating me. He does
it slowly and methodically on and off for five  minutes. Each time his cock
goes down my throat I'm positive this is the time  I'll blow my load
straight up in the air. Ryan's been moaning and breathing  noisily for most of the
past five minutes, finally muttering, "Last one, boy,  suck it as it goes
down your throat," and when it's halfway in I hump my hips,  gagging and
struggling as my cock spews a long string of cum with my body  bucking, my face
dark red. Then again as Ryan pulls his cock out looking a  little scared at
how violently I'm struggling and bucking my hips with another  shot of cum
flying from my boner. Holy shit, that orgasm was from outer space or
something. I'm laying here shivering and shuddering at the after affects of  that
incredible climax. Ryan pulls his cock from my mouth with precum  and saliva
creating an unstable bridge between his cock's head and my lips. It  pulls
free of his cock and drops across my cheek as Ryan lays on me hugging me,
kissing the side of my face. The strips of cum that shot out of my boner are
on  the lower part of the bed with me moving my legs trying to find a dry
spot on  the sheet, but spreading my cum around instead.


I'm still feeing some buzzing  around my cock and balls when Ryan grins,
asking, "How was that, Dylan?" My  shoulders do one last shudder as I mumble,
"Awesome, but scary at first. I  thought something broke in my nuts or
prostate or whatever. Wow, Ry.., um,  Albert, that really rocked my world." I'm
taking deep breaths gasping between  every fourth word. Ryan's still laying
on me looking a little smug,  mumbling, "I think I may have mentioned to you
that I'll take care of all your  submissive needs, and now you see what I
meant by that, eh?" I nod my head real  fast, again getting mad at myself for
doing that. I want to break that habit,  but he was so awesomely dominant
while deep throating me like that I couldn't  help but do the submissive fast
head nod demonstrating I'm enthusiastically  agreeing with him.


After laying together for  awhile we start doing some kissing, then deep
open mouth kisses with lots of  tongue and it becomes an incredibly hot
make-out with our bodies sliding against  one another ending with Ryan fucking
another load out of me as he's filling me  up to overflowing with his semen. It
was so hot I think it surprised both of us.  Whatever the summer turns out
to be, it's looking like one hot sexy summer if  nothing else. We grin at
each other, Ryan showing his continuing dominance by  pointing at his cock
again making me get on my knees between his legs to suck  his cock clean. Doing
that I almost had my third boner in the last half hour. He  really had me
under his control there for awhile and I'm mooning after him like  a dork,
hanging onto him until he snaps at me, "Go in and take your shower now,
Dylan. I'm gotta start packing my stuff." I muttered, "Yes, Albert," feeling
dorky for saying that, but liking it too. I try maintaining my dreamy
submissive  trance but the shower chases it away and while drying I feel embarrassed
for the  way I was acting goofy and gooey about Ryan. When I come out of the
bathroom  drying myself Ryan smacks my bare ass, saying, "Get your shit
together. We're  leaving right after I take a quick shower." That rekindled a
little fleeting  submissiveness, but I can't keep it going for long.

While Ryan showers I load his  satchel and my duffle bag into the Mini
Cooper, then smoke a cigarette thinking  about things in general. Yeah, I'm
nervous about the parent thing, but most of  that comes from Ryan overdoing his
concerns about every-fuckin'-thing.  It'd probably be better if he just let
things play out naturally instead of his  constant planning against
something going wrong. I mean, his fathers a very  successful businessman so he's
gotta be within the normal range of behavior, and  okay maybe his mother's a
bit eccentric but she has a busy social life  apparently so how eccentric
could she be considering that? If she was a recluse  or something then I'd
really be concerned. As I'm trying to sort it all out in  my mind, a nice
looking guy in his twenties comes outside the hotel for a smoke.  Good to know
there are good looking young men in the South. Ha ha, and why  wouldn't there
be? We exchange head nods, but don't exchange any words, plus his  eye
contact was less than a second so it's almost guaranteed he's not gay. Back
inside I take the elevator to our floor and see Ryan walking down the hall
towards me carrying his toiletry kid. He says, "Hey, thanks for loading my
satchel," and he puts his arm across my shoulders handing me his toiletry kit to
carry. That's a cool dominant move on his part. Guess I better get used to,
but  on the plus side I'll probably be getting even more boners than usual
reacting  to little Ryan being dominant. At the car, Ryan says, "You drive.
Find someplace  for breakfast," and he hands me the Mini's computer key,
saying, "We'll be  driving eight or nine hours today, but tomorrow it'll be
less than an hour's  drive home." Still with the our home stuff, huh?


As I'm driving on this sunny  day with the top down, I'm feeling pretty
good and sexually satisfied. Then I  spot a place claiming they've won awards
for the best breakfast in the state. A  dubious claim for this little
breakfast/ lunch joint in a strip mall, but I park  and we give it a try. As it
turns out we're pleasantly surprised, well shocked  actually, by the best egg
and cheese omelets I can ever remember eating. Pure  bright yellow omelet
with no browning like too many cooks will do with omelets.  They partially
brown the omelet by cooking it too fast with the heat too high.  We have some
awesome corn muffins too, and delicious coffee. And it's cheap too!  As with
most of the meals we've recently had, something called 'grits' are  included
with breakfast whether you ask for them or not. I remember grits from  our
spring-break trip. They're sort of like a porridge, but don't taste like
much of anything. Maybe the slightest corn taste, but only because Ryan told me
 grits are ground corn. He says some people put butter, salt, and pepper on
them  and others add cheese. I've decided to pretend they're not there like
Chubby and  I do with vegetables when having a dinner at restaurants.


After an A+ breakfast I'm  driving us to the highway, both of us totally
hangover free and completely  sexually satisfied, which are two major factors
for having a good day. I find  myself glancing at Ryan every now and then,
like he's my hero, until he tells  me, "I'm honored you're so into me now,
Dylan, but keep you eyes on the road."  Grinning, he adds, "If you're a good
boy today I'll try duplicating this  morning's sex after dinner tonight," and
I get a partial stiffy in my pants  hearing that. Maybe I won't need any
side-sex in Marietta after all, not if Ryan  can keep me sexual satisfied like
this. He told me he would when we were  planning this adventure, but I
didn't actually totally believe him until now. Of  course there may not be any
opportunities for me to have side-sex in the first  place, in which case I
hope Ryan can keep this up. Truth is our sex has always  been something
special. Not lovers sex, but the next best thing. I give ninety  percent of the
credit for that to Ryan. I don't think anybody does 'dominant' as  well as he
does it. Of course there's the familiarity factor too, and the fact  I've
always had a mysterious sexual 'thing' for him. And it started right from  the
first time I met him. He really turns me on, sometimes he turns me on when
he's not even trying. Our pheromones must be almost a perfect match.
Anyway, I'm  feeling good about things again and I've got some hope that
everything's going  to work out even better than I hoped it would. Of course my
optimism is clouded  at the moment by our recent awesome sex together and the
excellent breakfast we  just had, but in the back of mind lurks all my other
concerns. Still, I'm  enjoying this momentary peace of mind.

We finished breakfast a  little after eleven o'clock and I've driven since
then, and now I'm surprised to  see it's a little after two o'clock. Those
three hours really flew by,  especially considering we've barely talked at
all. The weather's very warm and  we have the top down, so communicating means
yelling, which neither of us does.  We have our own thoughts, and mine are
mostly about the increased heat I've been  noticing during our sex. I'm a
tad oversexed anyway, as has been well  documented, so increased sexual heat
is always appreciated. I've never  considered being oversexed a problem at
all. I consider it a blessing actually.  Anyway, Ryan begins fiddling with his
cellphone trying to locate a place  we can stop for lunch, and a half hour
later I park in front of a sub shop.  During lunch in this fried food
atmosphere, with the greasy fried onion smell  being absorbed into our clothing,
Ryan is very chatty and upbeat and that  encourages me to think positive
thoughts. He really should try being more  positive all the time.  He says,
"We're getting close to home, babe, so you  need to stay in the right frame of
mind from now on." "What's the right frame of  mind, Albert?" and I'm not
being a smart ass here. I wanna try doing thing's  Ryan's way because I'm
almost completely dependent on him. He's the only person  I know for eleven
hundred miles. He says, "Like I said this morning, follow my  rules and don't
talk unless you're spoken to, and I know that's sounds like real  old school,
like back in the ninetieth century or something, but let me do the  talking
until you get the lay of the land. Also, you know, look up to me when in
doubt, and do what I tell you. That's basically it. I hope my dad's impressed
seeing the way you and me, two gay guys, act as normal as any straight guy
he's  ever seen.  And, just because I'm gay it doesn't mean I can't be
authoritative and in-charge." I'm like, "Sure, Ryan, we've been over this
before, ya know, like a thousand times. Anyway I do look up to you, boss, I've
told you that before. I admire you for surviving your childhood" He goes,
"Thanks, but remember not to call me 'boss' at home. It sounds flip." I roll my
 eyes and nod my head, "Okay, I won't," and he goes, "And you're doing good
using  my 'Albert' name. I'm proud of you." Crazy as it sounds that made me
feel good,  Ryan being proud of me. Oh man, I need to get a grip on myself...
ha ha, but it's  kind of fun.

We order  cheese-steaks for lunch, then Ryan's like, "Neither of us have
any  stereotypical gay affectations, and thank god for that or the rents would
 freak-out completely." I ask, "But they're okay with us being gay, right?"
He  shrugs, "I wouldn't say they're 'okay' with it exactly, but they're
accepting  that it's the reality of the situation." That's not reassuring at
all! What the  fuck happened to the positive outlook he started out a few
minutes ago? He adds,  "We're who we are, Dylan, and neither of us is ashamed of
it. I'm proud you're my gay boyfriend, although  sometimes I pinch myself
to be sure I'm not dreaming." The food comes and the  subs are only 'okay'.
It's usually the roll that turns an otherwise good sub  into either a
mediocre one, or one that sucks. That's the case here, the roll  are too soft to
handle the hot meat and cheese, so these sub sandwiches suck,  but we eat then
without complaining too much. Then I'm kinda staring at Ryan as  he
finishes his cheese steak. He looks up with a little grin, some grease  glistening
at the corner of his mouth,  "Ya know, like I said  earlier, I can feel
that you're really into me, Dylan, and I'm really thrilled  about that. Keep it
up, okay? And, um, please don't take offense if at times  early on I'm
being overly bossy about stuff. It's what we talked about the last  two months,
one of our objectives is me being dominantly in-charge so your  submissive
fetish is neutralized, and two, you dealing with new experiences on  your own
helps you gain maturity. Agreed?" Talk about beating a dead fucking  horse,
how many times is he going to go over this? I get it already, and while
I'm liking the sound of it conceptually, it remains to be seen how it works
out  in reality. I admit that Ryan's pulling it off in an inoffensive way so
far.  Hell, he's almost being apologetic about it at times. At the same time
he's  still managing to put me in my place with the 'don't speak unless
you're spoken  to' and that kind of thing. He's making some sense too, but
mostly right now I'm  enjoying it as a sort of sub/dom game. I nod my head,
"Yeah, I agree, Albert,  you're the boss, although I won't call you that in your
house." He goes, "It'll  be your house too for the next ten weeks." I nod
again, "Yes, it  will."

















We're quiet for a minute as I  ogle a kid who's too young for me, but what
a pretty teenage boy he is. On the  other hand the kid he's with, who's
wolfing down a hotdog, has a face only a  mother could love assuming her
eyesight is impaired. Damn though, the other kid  has that indescribable sexiness
going for him. I can't pinpoint exactly what it  is but if he's gay he's
gonna make a lot of gay boys smile. Hopefully horse face  isn't gay, jesus,
would that be a crime! Ryan interrupts my musings by touching  my hand, smiling
at me, and saying, "Damn, you're making me feel good, Dylan. I  can't tell
you how glad I am you'll be with me this summer! Lets not get in any  more
disagreements like we had after that visit with Parker and his brother." I
go, "That was due to our hangovers more than anything else." He says,
"Whatever  the reason, no more of that. If something like that happens again
remember I'm  the one who will decide if you're out of line." Oh man, as fucked-up
as that  sounded my dick responded with a little wiggle hearing that absurd
assumption.  My god-dammed dick has a mind of it's own. This'll be so cool
if he can pull it  off long term. I beam at him for real, not putting him on.
I think he's doing a  good job of juggling being in-charge with being a
friend, and without pissing me  off too much. He reaches across the table and
squeezes my hand again, "You'll do  fine, Dylan, and we'll both be better for
spending this summer together. A  win/win situation." I don't know about
that, but I'm always  hopeful.


We split the cost of lunch  with Ryan making sure he has the receipt.
Outside lighting cigarettes we sit on  a bench in the sun. Ryan holds out the
receipt and the computer key for the  Mini, saying, "Run this receipt over to
the car, Dylan. Log it in on the front  of the folder, then file it in
chronological order inside the folder." I take  the receipt and key looking at
them as if I don't know what the fuck they are.  Ryan's like, "Go ahead, do it
now, Dylan, do what you're told." I make a  snorting sound, almost a laugh,
then nod at him and walk towards the Mini  thinking, 'Get used to this. It's
what he's been talking about at breakfast  and again just now at lunch.'
Okay, I can do this, and I jog the last twenty  feet to the car where I log
the receipt and keep it in date order, then jog back  to Ryan. He smiles like
I did okay, then says, "I'm giving you the receipt duty  the rest of the
way." I say, "Sure, Albert," and bite my bottom lip to keep from  chuckling or
grinning at him. Like I said, it's a fun game for now. Time will  tell how
long I continue thinking it's fun. As we finish smoking our cigarettes  I
scan the area for the pretty teen inside hoping he has an older brother.
Ryan's saying something so I catch the last part of it, "... right through we
could be home by about ten o'clock tonight." Yeah, I knew that because he said
 it before, and we're not doing that. He continues with something, then,
"...  Cumming, Georgia, and staying at the Hampton Inn." He glances over at me
with a  little grin, "I'm expecting it'll be a couple levels up from our
usual motels.  Cumming is a town about a forty-five minute drive from
Marietta. Because we left  late again today we won't get there until about nine
o'clock." I flick my  cigarette butt sideways off Ryan's knee. He shakes his
head and flicks his into  the gutter. He's concerned about us being fresh and
well rested when we meet his  parents. He rubs my head telling me that
Saturday morning is much better  for meeting his folks than Friday, like his
original plan, because both parents  will be home Saturday.


Finishing our smokes we're  walking to the car with Ryan saying, "I'll
drive the next four hours and you  finish today trip by driving to the hotel
after that. We might get there by  eight if we push it." He stops at a gas
station and I fill the tank, get the  receipt and log it in as Ryan drives us
towards the interstate. After ten  minutes, I lean over and ask loud enough
for him to hear me over the traffic  noise, "Can I text for awhile, Albert?"
He turns towards me, "Yes, I won't hear  you with the wind noise and all." I
knew he wouldn't be able to hear me texting,  but I got a buzz in my dick
asking Ryan's permission. Ha ha, little things like  that are fun for me. Most
people haven't a clue about submissive fetishes, not  anymore than I have a
clue about leather fetishes or a million others. I text  with the guys back
home, and read the texts from guys who can text me back. I  understand the
boys on the lawn cutting crew can't text while working, but  they'll see my
text later. I write emails to Robby and Chubby, not mentioning in  Robby's
email the accident Danny had with the BIG mower earlier in the week, the  one
I learned about in Chubby's email. Mentioning it to Robby, who probably
blames himself, would seem like I'm piling on, or rubbing it in both his and
Danny's faces. I get some replies and a few unsolicited texts from ex-posse
boys who found out I won't be home to give them haircuts this summer. I
explain  I'll be home at least one weekend, and then all of August. Texting and
emailing  are in many ways superior forms of communication as compared to a
cellphone  call. The text and email are to the point without the need for
small talk. Of  course hearing the voice of someone you love trumps the
succinctness of text or  email communication, so there's that.


When it's my turn to drive we  put the top up and Ryan becomes very
talkative, telling me about his past  summers at home. Summer vacations from
private prep schools, and then the last  recent two summer breaks from college.
Fortunately he skims over his lurid  sexual adventures with dominant older
guys, one of whom he drifted back to three  summers in a row, the last three
years of prep school. He concentrates on his  parents taking him on two week
vacations each summer. I can tell Ryan's trying  to make these vacations very
special, and they probably were for his parents,  but they don't sound like
much fun for Ryan. Sight seeing tours and trips to  Paris with days spent
in museums. Trips to spas where his father played golf and  his mother
shopped and had lunch with the wife of the childless couple who  vacationed with
them. What Ryan did all day and night he spoke of in vague  terms. Vacations
like that.


Other than those vacation  trips he mostly just hung around the house or
did the bidding of his dominant  sex partner. Ryan vaguely alluded to his
participation in various summer sports  programs, but honestly it sounds like
he's exaggerating these incidents or is  outright lying about them. Making
them up because he's embarrassed about his  lonely existence. I don't get most
of it because there's nothing so wrong with  him that he wouldn't have at
least one guy, one outcast nerd like himself, to  hook up with. I don't means
sexually, but just someone to hang-out with doing  nothing. Two or three
times at Merrimack, during nights we were drunk together,  he told me about
some of the abuse he was subjected to and I'm glad I don't need  to hear any of
that again, but the abuses sounded more believable than the  sports
activities he says he participated in. The thing that strikes me the most  is the
loneliness in his voice reciting abbreviated descriptions of what he did
outside of school, whether it's truth or made-up lies. When he was in school,
he's already told me he was considered one of the geek/dork population and
endured daily bullying. His past has left him a little fucked-up, but mostly
I'm  surprised how normal he mostly seems. Hearing too much of his history
at one  sitting isn't healthy, it makes me very sad.

We get to the Hampton Inn at  seven-thirty with Ryan saying, "I don't know
how the fuck I miscalculated the  driving time. We could be home by
eight-fifteen if we continued on." The car's  idling in front of the Inn, so I ask,
"Do you want me to drive on, Albert? I'm  fine driving another forty-five
minutes." He taps his front teeth with his  finger, then smells the back of
his hand, thinking I guess. Then shakes his  head, "Nah, I told them Saturday
morning in my last text and they don't like  surprises. Dylan, grab our bags
and wait for me in the lobby. I'll park the  car." That's a little odd
since I'm in the driver's seat, but I get out and lug  our stuff inside a fairly
nice, although a slightly worn lobby, and wait for  Ryan. He comes in
carrying the receipts folder that he hands to me, and then we  check in using
both our debit cards. The receipt he hands to me too, and we  carry our own
baggage to the elevator. After going the wrong way in the hallway,  we find our
second floor room and I swipe the key-card and in we go. A queen  size bed,
and it, along with the rest of the other furnishing, carry through  with
the 'worn' theme I noticed in the lobby. At one time, like maybe twenty  years
ago, this was probably kind of a swanky hotel. It's in serious need of a
facelift now though. Ryan says, "How about unpacking for me, Dylan. You know
how  I like to do it, spreading the items out in the drawers. I'll call for
a late  dinner reservation and then we'll have a swim. There's a nice pool
out back."  Okay, he's getting me used to taking orders, so I unpack his
leather satchel  distributing his clothes in the drawers of the desk, the way he
does it. He  goes, "Latest reservation I could get is nine-thirty, but that
gives us almost  two hours. Um, did you leave my bathing suit out?" I shake
my head and open  drawers until I find his Tommy Bahama swim trunks. Nice
bathing suit! Then I get  mine out of the duffle bag. It looks similar to
Ryan's, but probably cost half  as much. Maybe it's a knock off. I bought it on
sale last year at  Kohl's.


As he's taking off his  clothes, Ryan asks, "Did you log in the hotel
receipt yet?" I go, "Oh, I forget,  but I'll do it now," and I do. Then I'm
taking my clothes off with Ryan saying,  "Get your barber clippers out," and I
whine, "You just gave me a haircut  Monday." He chuckles, "The clippers are
for my beard. I want to look sharp  tomorrow morning and I like the look of a
half inch beard. That's the style you  see on guys all the time now." Yeah,
it is, but I go, "The clippers are at the  bottom of my duffle bag." He
gives me a 'look' and I shrug, then begin taking  everything out with Ryan
asking, "Why the fuck did you bring a duffle bag  anyway?" I go, "Because Chubby
took a lot of our stuff home with him that last  Friday, and it's all I had
left to use. Originally I used it to bring towels, my  pillow, sheets, and
stuff like that when we were moving into the apartment last  fall." He
mutters, "Well, that's simply poor planning, babe." I get the familiar  urge to
say, Fuck you,' . That's my immaturity showing it's ugly head  again... he's
right, it was poor planning on my part.

At this much larger pool than  the last one, there are only four other
people sitting here and they're all  adults. There's an old couple on that side
of the pool and a young couple on  this side. The sun's still nice and it's
very warm this far south. We put our  towels on two of the chairs around the
pool, as far away from the young couple  as we can get, then jump into the
pool. A minute later the old woman walks over  and sits at the edge on the
other side of the pool with her legs in the water.  Her older, overweight
husband, with thick shoulder length white hair on his  head, and impossible
long white hair all over his chest, shoulders, and stomach  gets up and walks
up beside the woman. He says something to her with a grumpy  expression on
his face, while she doesn't even look at him, just waves her hand
dismissively, and the old man dives into the pool creating a cannonball type  splash
that pretty much soaks the woman. The old duffer's quite the gentleman.
Swimming under water he comes up near where we're treading water, rubbing
against my side as he comes up. I'm like horrified as I drift away from him.
Gramps gives us a big smile showing mostly dark red gums with tiny little teeth
sticking out below. He says, "Refreshing, huh, boys?" Jesus! I float away
paddling with my hands, trying to do it slowly without being obvious or
insulting. The old man's white chest hairs float in the water away from his
body. Ghastly! I stare at him with a frown on my face, fascinated that Ryan's
actually carrying on a conversation, telling this old coot our life's
history.  Swimming over to the side, I get out of the pool and after drying my
face, light  a cigarette and sit down checking- out the young couple. The
woman, or girl, she  looks about our age, is very cute and so is her boyfriend,
or husband. The more  I look at them talking and giggling at each other, the
more I think they're twin  brother and sister. Both have blond hair and the
same nose and grin. Cute. Then  they're joined by an older guy who isn't
good looking at all. He makes me think  of a trucker or motorcycle gang
member. He pulls a chair over and says something  to the twins that makes them all
laugh. The new guy has many tattoos, and lots  of curly dark hair fur on
his body, and a bolt in his lower lip. He leans over  to the boy-twin and
bolt-lip gives him a ten second open mouth kiss with the  twin sister watching
and grinning. Huh. Ya never know.


Ryan comes over saying, "Thanks for leaving me  stranded with old Martin
there in the pool," and I'm like, "Oh, his name's  Martin?" Ryan's like,
"Yeah, he invited us to have dinner with him and his  wife." I go, "Fuck that."
And Ryan goes, "Yeah, I agree, but ya didn't have to  leave me there with
him." Looking at Ryan, I'm like, "Albert, I already know the  parts of our life
history that you were telling to him about, so I didn't  need to hear it
again." He sits down taking my cigarette from my fingers and  drags off it,
saying, "Yeah, I got kinda flustered and started babbling." I ask,  "Why'd ya
say anything. Just do like I did and agree the pool's refreshing, and swim
away." He nods his head, "You're  right," then nodding towards the younger
group, he grins, mumbling, "Cute guy,"  and I tell him about bolt-lip kissing
the cute guy. Ryan shakes his head like there's no accounting for  some
people taste in boyfriends. We're thirsty so Ryan sends me off  with a few one
dollar bills to find a Coke machine or something that sells drinks. I find
one,  but naturally I go all the way around the building to find it, when if I
went  left instead of right it would have been just around the corner. The
cute twin  guy is at the machine rocking it. He glances at me, saying, "The
fucking  thing ate  my money, but no pop came out." Pop? Oh yeah, that's
what they call soda in the  South. I say, "Huh, you could tell the guy at the
front desk," and he  goes, real sarcastic like, "Gee, you must be related to
Einstein to think  of that so quickly." I mutter, "Fuck you," and elbow him
out of the way to put  my dollar in the slot. Out pops an orange pop, which
is fine except I hit the  Coke button. Cute guy says, "That's mine. I hit
the orange pop  button," and he grabs it before I know what's happening. He
walk away saying, "Maybe you'll get your pop  with the next dollar, Einstein."
What an asshole! His bolt-lipped boyfriend is  hideous, but just right for
cutie boy. The next dollar does pop out a Coke, as  does the next dollar.
Mysterious.


Back at our chairs we drink  our Cokes without me mentioning my run in with
cute guy. I don't want Ryan  pulling the protector role confronting the guy
and winding-up in a fight ruining  our night, and all for a fucking dollar.
We talk about our sophomore year  laughing at how stupid we were at certain
times during the year. Then we have a  long swim after white hairy chest
and his bride leave the pool area. The cute  guy and bolt-lip try attracting
my attention by making a federal case out of  drinking their orange pop,
saying, so I can hear it, "Free pop tastes best," and  the dumb-ass twin sister
is smirking at me too. Fucking idiots, all three of  them. First of all, the
cute guy paid a dollar before I got there, so the orange  pop wasn't free
in the first place. Jesus, a couple of uncool assholes, three of  them
actually. Ryan's unaware anything's going on and I leave it at that. When  we've
had enough of the pool and the sun has set, we go up to our room for
showers. Ryan wants me to go first and when I'm undressed he goes, 'Wait a sec,
Dylan. Let me inspect you." He grinning, so I play along and stand at
attention  like I did Monday when Ryan was telling me the rules. He rubs his hands
over my  body, murmuring, "I've got myself a perfect boyfriend, body-wise,"
and then he  rubs my head, muttering, "Getting a little furry on top," and I
go, "No haircut,  Ryan, pretty please. Your parents will think I'm some kind
of skin head, an  anti-American skin head." He goes, "Huh, I never thought
of that, but look here...  your pubes are getting scratchy. Take your razor in
the shower with you and give  yourself a close shave for your boyfriend,
okay?" I go, "Sure, Albert," and he  says, "First though, get the clippers and
neaten-up my beard, such as it is,"  then he feels my cheek, chin, and
upper lip, mumbling, "Nothing yet, huh?" I go,  "Nope."


Bare ass naked, like my  pervert so-called boyfriend probably planned, I
use the trimmer clippers to cut  his scraggly curly beard to a half inch, and
then do some neatening-up without a  guide on the trimmers. It takes a
steady hand, which I have fortunately. When  done we both think he looks really
cool. I think he looks sexy as hell too and  get my arm around the back of
his neck for a sloppy wet kiss, then he smacks my  bare ass with me yelping,
more from not expecting it than anything else. "Get in  and take your shower,
babe, we're getting short on time." I do that and when  shaving my pubic
stubble I get a nice little submissive sense from doing what  I'm told. Damn,
it's so cool I'm sucking on my lips thinking about Ryan and me  in bed after
dinner. I hope we can sleep together all summer because I don't  believe
the sex Ryan brings to the table will ever get old. It's all about his  scent,
hard body, big cock and that dominant manner he does so easily and so
well. Walking out of the bathroom drying myself, Ryan's like, "Oh good, that
didn't take long, thanks, Dylan," and he takes his shower as I get dressed in
shorts and short sleeved Polo shirt, then look at myself in the full length
 mirror that's on the closet door. I don't want to be conceited, but I
gotta say  I look good, and even my haircut after five days looks okay. It's
lost that  stark bristly look it had just after it was cut. From the front it
looks like a  buzz cut, but from the side the severely short hairs cut way up
the sides and  back of my head differentiates this cut from a buzz cut.
This is basic hung-ho  marine haircut 101. That's what Ryan copied it from, and
that's what it looks  like.


After his shower Ryan comes  out of the bathroom, saying, "Damn, you look
good, Dylan. You're so fucking cute  I could eat you up." I grin, muttering,
"Huh, ya don't say? How about just  blowing me instead?" and he laughs, then
goes, "Ya know, under different  circumstances I'd love to do that, but you
know I've got the responsibility of  satisfying your fetish." I'm sitting
at the desk with my laptop, looking at  my photos of Robby and me. As I click
on another, I mumble, "I'm not going into  that again. I don't need that
kinda help, but you mean well, so thanks. Come  over here and look at this
pic." He comes over and stands next to me, his hand  on my shoulder, as he
bends down looking at a picture of the three of us...  Robby, Ryan, and me.
We're lifting weights, striped to just our shorts. I go,  "Robby's the fabulous
looking one, and we come in tied for second." He looks at  me without saying
anything for a few seconds, then he asks, "Um, are you  serious? You think
Rob's better looking than you in that picture?" Looking up at  him, "Well,
yeah, don't you." He shakes his head, then mutters, "No, because  he's not.
He's, um, handsome and that body is hot!" then exasperated he's like,  "Fer
chrissakes, look at you two, he's right next to you. You can't see how much
cuter and better looking you are, especially in this picture? You don't see
it?"  I shake my head, "Um, no, but why are you getting worked up? It's
doesn't really  matter who's better looking." He raises his eyebrows making a
face, then shakes  his head muttering, "Whatever."

He rubs my head as I go to  the next picture, one of just Ryan and me. I
go, "Nice body, Albert!" And he  points at me in the picture, mumbling,
"Je-sus kee-ricest! My folks aren't going  to believe how good looking my
boyfriend is, especially when they see you in  person. I can hardly believe it
myself." I say, "Thanks, Albert, but you're  awfully cute yourself." He goes, "In
your eyes, baby. Only in your eyes ," I  frown, "Are you serious? You're
cute, boss. You really are, and don't let anyone  tell you differently." He
nods his head  with half of a smile on his lips,  and sounding a little
choked-up, mutters, "That's really nice of you to say,  Dylan." Closing the laptop
and getting dressed, we go down in the elevator as I  hold his hand,
saying, "You're my man, Ryan, so you're supposed to hold my  hand." He grins
pulling his hand away, "Um, that's what I'd like to do, but I  don't think the
good folk down here in South are quite as open-minded about that  sort of
thing as they are in the liberal upper part of the east coast. We'll do  without
the hand holding in public." Yeah, fine, but Willie wouldn't have. I  kinda
agree with Ryan though because to flaunt it openly is too exhibitionistic
for my liking. The dinner we have is barely average, but we eat it without
complaining as the reality of meeting his parents are a mere twelve hours
away  now, so that's mostly on our minds. It makes me want to stick closer to
Ryan  then normal... he's my security blanket for this new world I'm a
stranger in. Back  safely in our room, after doing the bathroom stuff, we get in
bed naked. Ryan  wants to make-out, and he's a world class make-out artist and
quite quickly  he gets me moaning with a wickedly hard cock as our naked
bodies squirm together  on the bed.


With precum dripping from my  boner I lay on my back with Ryan sitting on
my chest, his boner resting on my  chin. With his hand he pushes my forehead
back lifting my chin and he deep  throats me. Each time he pulls his cock
from my throat, so I can breath, I suck  and lick his cock for a bit, then, he
lifts up and his big hard cock goes down  my throat again. I'm so turned on
my body never stops moving on the bed as my  arms hug around his waist with
Ryan getting extremely aroused and this time as  his cock's pulling out of
my throat his body shudders, then gets stiff with Ryan  making a whining
sound, his face scrunched up and he shoots a ginormous load of  cum in my mouth
gagging me momentarily. He shudders again with his cock pulling  from my
mouth and I get a stream of cum in my face as I'm swallowing the last of  the
first shot. Ryan's gasping and rolls off my chest onto his side. I scramble
down the mattress taking his cock in my mouth just as a small shot of spunk
 shoots out and then I suck some drools out. He lays there gasping, then
murmuring, "Oh my god, that deep throating is unbelievable hot." I crawl up
face  to face with him, feeling horny because now I've got blue balls because
I was  just about to climax myself. When we're both calm we lay here
caressing each  other's body and swapping compliments like we're a mutual
admiration  society. Then we just hug each other with the sides of our faces
together  swaying slightly as if we're dancing to a very slow tune. I love his
scent, and  his newly barbered beard against my cheek, and the feel of his  body.

We maybe lay together for an  hour before starting little lip kisses and
our make-out gets hotter and hotter.  I get scrunched up on my knees with my
forehead on the mattress and my arms  around the front of my legs, almost
like a ball with my bare ass sticking up for  Ryan. He murmurs, "Even your
pussy is pretty, baby." It's my fault he's saying  'pussy'. I introduced
Willie's name for my ass and Ryan's picked-up on it, and  now that's what he calls
my ass. Things like that used to bother me, but now  it's a merely a word,
not implying anything when Ryan uses it. His hard cock  pushes inside me with
me holding my breath against the pain. Like last time he  expects me to
deal with it as he slowly but steadily pushes his eight inches of
skin-over-bone all the way in until he's basically laying against my ass, his  pubic
hairs flat against my buttocks, pressed there between his belly and me. He
moans quietly then leaves his boner impaling me as he humps against my
buttocks,  then swivels his hips to the degree he can. It ever so slightly moves his
boner  in my ass, stimulating my prostate which feels sort of like an itch
that needs  scratching. That goes for the length of his boner inside my
rectum making me  squirm my scrunched-up ball of a body. The head of my hard
throbbing boner just  pokes out between my calves, under my arms that are
wrapped around my legs below  my knees. When he starts fucking me, with each
'Slap' sound of his body smacking  against my ass I go, "Ah!" And it gets fast
and hard, "Slap, Ah! Slap, Ah! Slap,  Ah! Slap, Ah!" for five fast
deliciously sexually arousing minutes until I'm  hyperventilating with my orgasm
building to an almost painful degree. I get to  whining with desire as my body
shakes and shivers that go up and down my spine.  Ryan's hard cock spreads the
walls of my rectum while stimulating the lips of my  stretched anus and
it's all overwhelmingly so sexy I could cry with pleasure.  "Slap, ah!  slap,
ah!, slap, ah!" My body continuing to shake with chills  of sexual pleasure
flying from my rectum, my balls are throbbingly hard and my  cock quivering
as the head swells and I squeal, humping forward with cum  screaming out of
my cock. My body slides forward on the  mattress with my arms stretched out,
still on my knees as another blast of cum  shoots from my cock and so many
sensations are spreading out from my ass and  groin I think I might have
actually passed out for a second or  two.


Ryan's sort of holding me up  on my knees with a strong grips at my hips as
he grunts and continues fucking my  ass. He climaxed an hour ago, so when
he finally breaths noisily and then kind  of squawks, humping desperately
against by buttocks and shooting cum up my ass  it's probably not nearly the
volume he thinks it is... to him it probably felt  like a river of cum. We're
both shuddering for awhile laying next to each other  stretched out on our
stomachs breathing hard. Then some sighing as we find  ourselves sexually
satisfied again. After a deep breath, Ryan says, "Wow, this  sex we're having
is primo stuff, Dylan. Like our early days together, huh?" I  nod my head,
"Pretty much, but I don't think we'll ever reach that level of  sexual heat
again. We're moving past our prime years for sex. Past by a couple  of years,
maybe three." He snorts, then mumbles, "I don't think that's so. Not  for us
anyway." After a few minutes we stumble out of bed chuckling at each
other's clumsiness and use the bathroom, cleaning up a little with Ryan saying,
"Showers again tomorrow morning. We want to look sharp," and I fake
seriousness  asking, "Should I use deodorant tomorrow, Albert?" He doesn't get it as
a joke,  saying, "Definitely, Dylan! Jesus man, yes, deodorant tomorrow of
all days." I  go, "Mouthwash too I guess," and he gets that I'm putting him
on. He chuckles,  "You especially, don't forget the fucking mouthwash." I
go, "Hey, I don't have  halitosis!" He grins, hugging around my waist,
"Nothing on you smells bad,  Dylan. That wouldn't compute, dude."


We get in bed, "No talking,  Dylan, we wanna be well rested." I don't know
why we especially need to be well  rested. Ryan's reunion at home should be
a big hug and some kisses for their  son, then an introduction between his
parents and me with them saying nice  things about how happy they are I'm
spending most of the summer with Albert and  how welcome I am. Then they go
back to whatever they were doing and Ryan shows  me all around the house. We
get our bedroom set up and then maybe we'd  check out the town. That's how a
normal family would handle things. I don't  expect that though. Ryan's too
concerned about making a good impression for his  parents to be what I'd call
normal. Consequently I'm remaining docilely  submissive and following Ryan
lead assuming he knows best how to make this work.  Anyway I'm enjoying our
little sub/dom relationship and until further notice  Ryan's my man. Well, at
least until I'm comfortable about how things are going  to work regarding
his parents, and maybe more importantly the job. Tomorrow  morning could be
the beginning of some answers to the questions in my head about  what makes
Ryan tick.


to be continued...    Donny Mumford    thinat20@tahoo.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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