Date: Wed, 14 Sep 2016 12:29:01 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE  Chapter  6

DYLAN'S  JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE


Chapter  6


by  Donny Mumford


After  a surprisingly good lunch at the Quad with Rob and Danny I'm
heading back to the apartment to kill some time until my four  o'clock
orientation. Truth is I probably wouldn't even go to the  damn thing except Ryan's in
the same class and I'd like to  somehow get back into a more normal
relationship with him. After my  nine weeks in Georgia with Ryan my boss it's been an
awkward  adjustment period now that he's not the boss. I don't know if it's
 me who's making the transition awkward, or him. And, I'm not  even sure
he'll be at the orientation. The thing is, if he does  go and I don't, there's
the possibility he'll take it the wrong way  and think I'm snubbing him. He
texted me that he might be there, so  who know what's up with that? I'm
thinking these thoughts while walking  through the campus. It takes me fifteen
minutes to get to our apartment  building, but only because I had to wait
five minutes  for an opportunity to cross busy route 114. Finally in the
apartment I use the toilet, then wash up and smile at my reflection in the
mirror over the sink. That goddam Golden Summers gave me a really  good haircut.

Just enough trimming on the sides and back so it looks neat  and, at the
same time, the trim makes the other hairs on my head  appear longer. I can
almost comb all the hairs on top for the preppiest  look imaginable. After all
the years of very short hair this longer  hair takes some getting used to,
and it's more work than wearing a buzz  cut, but it's a cool change for me.

Lying  on my back on the neatly made-up bed I pull Robby's pillow over and
press it to my face. It smells like him and I bite my lip wishing he were
here  right now. Yep, I'm feeling horny again. I've admitted to myself at
least a  hundred times that I'm seriously oversexed, but it's the way the
chemicals in my  brain function so I have very little to do with it. I'm not
hurting anyone, or  myself, so what the fuck's the problem? Basically I'm saying
if anyone  disapproves they can kiss my ass. Oh man though, Robby and I
have been  having the best sex together since moving into the apartment. Not
that it wasn't  really good before we moved in, but now we're doing it more
frequently.  It's only been like two days, but we have many days to look
forward to so  we both expect this will be the best year of our lives so far.

It's  certainly off to a good start; well, except for the uncomfortable
situation  with Ryan. I always come back to that. He's used to me doing what he
says  so he got pissed-off when I wouldn't do what he told me to last night
after  dinner. Complicating the situation is the surprising fact I've
retained some of the same feelings for him I felt in Georgia. It's  strictly lust,
of course, and has nothing to do with being in  love. That emotion is
strictly reserved for Robby.

Yeah,  but at times I feel this craving for Ryan to fuck me the way he did
in  Georgia, including the haircut that at times stimulated my fetish into
a fury. Huh, my brain is obviously in a mixed-up state of emotions,
contradictions, and desires.  Sex with Ryan is totally different than  sex with
Robby of course, and that's especially true after the sex.  It's as simple as
one sex act being all about lust and the other involves  some lust too...

plus love. Big fucking difference!   Oh sure, Robby has his moments of being
slightly rough and slightly  dominant, and he has created a submissive trance
in me at times, but in that  regard Ryan's on a whole different level
altogether. The crazy thing is I've  never been able to put my finger on why I
think Ryan's so sexy and, according to  him, I'm the only guy who's ever
thought he was. Maybe  it's a combination of our intense relationship in Georgia
combined with our  history of very hot submissive/dominant sex during
freshman year. It  doesn't really matter why I think he's sexy-hot though, the fact
is I  do, and can't pretend I don't. Ryan would be the perfect buddy-sex
partner  except for one thing: he thinks he's in love with me. That's a
problem for  another time however. Also he's wrong about me being the only one who
thinks  he's hot. Jeff was totally enamored by Ryan last summer and then
Ryan had that  boyfriend, what's-his-name?

Flopping  over on the bed, my face on Robby's pillow, I lie here on my
stomach trying  to think about something other than sex. Lying around doing
nothing is  one of the perks of college life, but doing nothing gives my brain
time to dwell  on problems, like what am I going to do about Ryan? Except for
that,  this free time is a luxury. In the past I've had part-time jobs
which  eliminated most of the time for lying around doing nothing, so maybe I
should look for a part time job again  this year. I wonder if Cory's still
working for Stop & Shop? He'd give me a  job. No, I'm too old to be a bag boy,
and anyway there are too many  annoying people in grocery stores. I also
hate the thought of the fast  food grease and smells associated with working
at McDonalds or one of the  other fast food joints. Hmmm, what to do? I give
a thought to texting  Tracy, but he would only fill up about five minutes of
my doing-nothing time...  heh heh. He fucks fast!  Ya know, feeling horny a
lot of the time is the  only real drawback to having frequent sex; once
you're into it,  you get to needing it. Here at college I don't really have any
fuck  buddies. Well I'm not currently counting Ryan because I don't know
where we  stand at the moment, and Tracy counts only for a quickie. Back home
I'd run into  a fuck buddy at the mall, or walking down the street, or one of
the posse boys  would come over for a haircut.. There's nothing like home
sweet home. The  availability of sex buddies is probably the implication
behind that  'home sweet home' phrase.

Damn,  I'm back to thinking about Ryan in Marietta, and sure enough lust
raises  its enticing  head again. Balls! Getting off the bed I wander out to
the balcony and  look at the cars in the parking lot. Jeez, I wish we had a
better view. Hmmm,  maybe if I did some more walking around campus I'd get my
mind off all this  frustration and, at the same time, improve my chances of
developing a  Merrimack fuck buddy. Nothing serious, just hop in the sack
once in  a while for  the fun of it; that kind of thing. The trouble with
that plan is I'm not adept  at initiating random introductions of a sexual
nature. Back home, and in  Wildwood, opportunities for buddy sex just seem to
happen without me  needing to do much of anything. That's not so on this
college campus  though, and it wasn't much better in Georgia. I'm referring to
buddy sex  that just seemed to happen for me on its own.  And,  I don't count
Ears Henderson asking me to let him blow me as an opportunity for
buddy-sex; that would be borderline cartoon sex. And in any case, generally
speaking, there aren't a lot of attractive young-looking guys going to this
college. At least I haven't seen many, and of course the chances of a sexy
attractive guy being gay is supposedly one out of ten, and maybe the one out of
ten wouldn't be interested in me, so I'm dealing with an almost hopeless
situation here.

With  that depressing thought in my head I go back inside and turn the TV
on,  then flop on the sofa thinking about Robby and me fucking on this very
same sofa just the other day. Sitting up I feel the cushion and  sure enough
there's some stiff spots of dried cum. Neither of us got around to
cleaning the cushion. Hee he, who was sitting on this sofa during the dinner  party
last night? They would have been totally unaware they were sitting on
Robby's and my spunk. Getting up I'm looking in cabinets and closets for  some
kind of cleaning material. I didn't buy any and there's none here from  the
apartment management people, which is stupid of them. I'd try cleaning the
cushion if the assholes left some cleaning solution here. Then my cell phone
pings indicating  a text. It's from mom saying she's getting ready to head
out to work and wants  to know how I'm doing. That's sweet. We text back and
forth a few times with me  providing a brief outline of what we've been up
to, highlighting our attendance  at the orientation classes. I use 'we' so
mom will assume I mean  Chubby and me. That way she can reassure his mom that
all is well. My use of  'we' is actually Robby and me so I guess I'll
chalk-up another little white lie.  This one is a  lie of omission. No big deal.

Later  Robby texts saying he's done the orientations and now he's going to
see what's  happening around the baseball complex. Plus he needs to hook-up
with his  freshman, Golden, for some mentoring. He wants to know what I'm
doing and I  tell him I'm lying around doing nothing, killing time until my
last  orientation. It's nice that Robby checks-in like that because it means
he's  thinking about me. There's still over an hour before my four o'clock
orientation so I give in and text Ryan again. He always outlasts me and I
end up reaching out to him; he's stubborn like that. My text asks him if he
wants to hang out before our class, but he doesn't even have the decency  to
text back. You can't tell me he doesn't have his cellphone with him.  Jeez,
how boring and inconvenient life must have been without  cellphones. Fuck,
it's actually inconceivable! The inconvenience must have  been mind-blowing
for those poor bastards. Oh well, giving up on my  laying around the
apartment idea, I decide to walk back to campus. Outside my  apartment building I
see three Merrimack students wearing backpacks waiting  to cross route 114.

Two tall girls and a short, squat guy with too much black  beard on his
squarish face. They all look glum so I slow up to avoid  any awkward small talk
with them. As I'm watching them jogging across the four  lane highway my
cellphone chirps again. It's Ryan finally replying to my  text with, 'Oh, you
want to be friends now?' Can I believe this shit?  Talk about paranoia! I text,
'Yes, of course I do. Where are you?" He texts saying he's with his
roommate in their dorm, and that's all he  says. No invitation to join them. Oh
fuck, I'm going anyway because I'm  kinda interested in meeting his roommate. I
want to see if Ryan's made  his latest huge mistake by choosing the wrong
roommate like he did  with that ass-wipe roommate last year.

As  I'm crossing the street I'm wondering what those three students I  saw
two minutes ago had in their backpacks. Classes haven't started yet and
nobody brings textbooks to orientations, so what was bulging out their
backpacks?  Then I remember I don't even have a pen or paper with me to  take
notes. Fuck! Ha ha on me; those are the kind of thing the three duds had in
their backpacks. If I brought my backpack I'd have those items too, plus my
laptop in case the orientation got too boring. Dammit! I'm out of sorts and not
 organized yet, and tomorrow's the first day of classes. Robby will get me
organized though; I've no doubt about that. Then I get this weird feeling
that I'm missing Robby, and what's Chubby doing now too? I feel alone,
which is stupid but I do anyway.

At  Ryan's dormitory I stop at the steps not sure how to act around him,
especially after that wise-ass text he sent me. He can be as stubborn as a
donkey so maybe I need to give-in and try a little of my Marietta deferential
 treatment towards him. That might help him though our transition period.

Doing anything cold-turkey, so to speak, can be difficult and I do want us
to be friends, so goddammit I'll take the more mature approach for  once and
put an end to his childish sulking.

Up  the outside steps of the building, and inside I go determined to get
through to Ryan. On the first floor I knock on Chubby's dorm door but get no
answer again, so up the stairs to the second floor where I knock twice on
Ryan's door. I have this funny feeling in my belly, or my groin. Is it
nervousness? Ryan opens the door and gives me a little grin, saying, "I knew
you'd give in," and I go, "Whaddaya mean?" He just grins, then pulls the  bill
of his/my baseball cap down to my eyebrows, saying, "C'mon in and meet my
roommate." I step inside adjusting my hat and see a normal looking guy
holding  his hand out for me to shake, "Hi, Dylan, I'm Steve Church, nice to meet
you.  Ryan's been telling me all about you two guys rockin' his hometown of
 Marietta, Georgia last summer." Glancing at Ryan for half a second,  then
looking at the kid again, I mumble, "Nice to meet you too." I've  already
forgot what he said his name was, but I go on anyway, saying, "Um, you  really
shouldn't believe too much of what Ryan tells you." He smiles, saying,
"Oh, it was all good. He's very fond of you." I steal another glance at Ryan
who's not even looking at us. He's checking his course agenda, mumbling,
"You're  an hour early, Dylan. Our orientation class isn't until four o'clock."

I shrug,  "I know, but I was bored waiting by myself in the apartment, and
I, um, wanted  to hang-out with you. Hope I'm not intruding on anything..." He
looks blankly  back at me, so I mumble unnecessarily, "Rob's doing some kind
 of baseball activity, heh heh...  naturally." Ryan sits at his desk,
saying, "Yeah, well I've decided I'm not going to try out for the  baseball team
after all, and I'm not returning as their flunky equipment  manager either."

I nod, mumbling, "Huh."

His  roommate's unpacking a duffle bag as I lean against the wall, saying,
"So, why  aren't you trying-out?" Ryan makes a face, then says, "Like I was
telling  Steve, it'd be a waste of time." I repeat the name 'Steve' in my
head a few  times, as Ryan's saying, "They hardly ever add a 'walk-on' player
to the  team roster anyway and, you know, Rob's a big deal co-captain now so
I know  there wouldn't be an endorsement coming from him. Ahh, fuck it..."

and he  does another shrug. All I can think to say is, "Oh, um, sorry about
that,  Ryan. I think you're as good as the outfielders on last year's team;
better than  that long-haired right fielder who graduated." He rubs his nose
without replying  and there's another awkward silence. I finally break the
silence asking the  roommate, "Where you from, Stan, um, Steve?" He grins,
saying, "Just up the  road near Salem, New Hampshire. Maybe a half hour's
drive from here," I  nod trying to look interested, like I give a shit. With
Steve here  it's almost impossible to make inroads into Ryan's and my
awkwardness with each  other.

I've  got the back of my hand to my nose as Steve's grinning again, saying,
"I'm sure  you don't remember, Dylan, but you and I were in the same
freshman advertising course." I'm like, "Huh, yeah? Well, there were like a
hundred and fifty others in that lecture hall if I remember correctly,  so ya
know..." Another awkward silence, until I mumble, "You guys want to  check out
the Quad? Get a soda or something," then I see my toiletry kit  with the
professional barber stuff inside. It's on Ryan's desk. I guess he's  going to
finally return it. Ryan says, "Nah, I'm not feeling the Quad, but  I wouldn't
mind having a smoke outside." I go, "Sure, I'm up for that." Steve  says,
"I've still got a lot of unpacking to do. Nice meeting you. Dylan." I  go,
"You too," and he says, "It's so weird I finally got to meet you.  Freshman
year I thought you were like a model or movie star or something.  I mean when I
first, um, saw you in class." I give Ryan a quizzical look,  like, 'Is he
shitting me?' and Ryan, who's getting up, nods his head  at Steve, saying to
me, "Steve says things that can be surprising," and Steve,  looking
confused, goes, "What...?"  I shake my head, not knowing what the  fuck to say to
either of them.

Ryan  opens the door chuckling about something, and down the stairs we go
with him  telling me, "He's not gay, if that's what you're thinking." I frown
at him,  "That's not what I was thinking at all." He ignores that and
tells me, "I've discovered that Steve has no filter  whatsoever for what he's
thinking. He just comes right out with  anything he thinks of. For instance he
said to me, 'Gee, you don't see too many  guys rocking that eighties look
of yours." Meaning my hair  obviously. I mutter, "Ha, not too subtle, huh?" I
totally agree with Steve  though, and I've hinted at that to Ryan already.

No need to mention it  again. Ryan hits my arm, saying, "Hey, come to think
of it, you're more  then a little bit like Steve in that regard yourself,
Dylan. You come out  with the craziest unfiltered things occasionally too." I
give him another  frown, mumbling, "No I don't."

The  roommate, Steve, is a youthful looking, rosy cheeked lad about an
inch taller then Ryan, or about Golden's height. Steve has average fascial
features; nothing great and nothing especially bad. Brown hair and eyes and,
like I said, he's about Golden's height, but not as stocky as Golden.

Considering what Steve said about Ryan's hair, I wonder what he'll think about
Golden's long hair when he meets him; if he does meet him. As far as Steve's
hair, he's sporting a short generic haircut with a part on the  left; the
usual SuperCut style. That's one thing I can  say for Golden's haircutting;
his haircuts are  mostly styled and tapered. Steve's generic haircut  is
short, same-length hair all the way up the sides and  back of his head. As for
his personality, from my limited exposure to him, he  seems to have a nice
manner about him and he smiles easily. Good smile  too. Oh, and he has a scant
beard that he hasn't bothered to shave for a week or  more. My overall first
 impression is that he's a nice  guy.

To  start a conversation, I go, "Steve seems like a good guy. Looks like
you  made a good roommate choice this year." He lights a cigarette,  mumbling,
"Time will tell. I guess I like him so far. Um, he's a bit naive  maybe." I
take the cigarette Ryan's offering and he lights it for me as he  chuckles,
asking, "Did you see the nine-by-twelve picture of his girlfriend  on his
desk?" I exhale smoke mumbling, "Thanks for the cigarette," then,  "Picture?

No, I didn't notice." Ryan reaches up and wipes his finger under my  eye,
saying, "Loose eyelash. You don't want that in your eye. That would  hurt like
 a motherfucker." With my finger I wipe where he did, then smell the back
of  my hand. Very few guys would feel comfortable touching another guy's face
like  Ryan just did to me. It would be a way too familiar thing for  most
guys to do. As I'm thinking how comfortable Ryan is with me, he gets  even
more familiar by pulling my hand away from my face, saying, "Don't do  that,"

and he sounds irritated, like he's pissed he needed to tell me  that again.

Then in a friendly way, he goes, "Do we really want to go to  this
orientation, Dylan?" Whew, I need to take a deep breath, then let it  out slowly
because his rebuke about me smelling the back of my hand was so like  his
Marietta bossiness it made my groin tightened up. Fuck!

I'm  like, "Oh, you don't want to go to the orientation? Sure, I'm
definitely okay with not going." Robby going to ask me about it  though... dammit!

Ryan exhales a lot of smoke, then mumbles, "Good, we  won't go." Taking hold
of my arm he's pulling me, saying, "We'll sit  over here on this bench." I
offer no resistance because why would I?  Sitting is fine with me, but once
we're sitting Ryan  smokes silently with nothing else to say, so it's awkward
again.  Finally I turn a little on the bench, facing him, saying, "I'm
really sorry  if it seemed to you like I was teasing or taunting you in any kind
of a  sexual harassment way last night. I didn't do it intentionally.  I
mean, to be honest I didn't think I was doing it at all. My  only wish is to be
friends with you, close friends. Oh, and don't misinterpret  the 'close
friends' reference. I didn't mean anything sexual by that." He  snorts a
chuckle, "Jesus, Dylan, get real! You'd have a hard time not being  sexual... I
know that as well as anyone." I frown, asking, "What's that even  mean...?" and
he goes, "Actually it's me who needs to apologize for accusing  you of being
a cock-teaser." I go, "That's okay, but I really dislike that  term,
'cock-teaser', I mean, associated with me in any way. So, ya know..." He  puts his
arm across my shoulder, saying, "Yeah, I know. My mistake and I  apologize
again." I wait a few seconds and then blurt out, "And why the  fuck are you
being so formal with me now? That's not friendly, Ryan, it's... I  don't know,
it's insincere like you were with Rob at dinner Sunday night.  You and me are
sincere guys, especially with each other." He mumbles,  "Yeah, you're
right," and goes back to silently smoking, and again it's  awkward.

After  a fake cough, I tap his shoulder, saying, "I've been thinking  that
you and I are in a, um, transitionary period. You know, from you being  my
boss to you being my best friend and fellow college student. What do you
think about that premise?" He looks at me, "You think I'm your best  friend?" I
nod my head, "Well, yeah sure, of course you are." He grins at me,
"Thanks, I've never been anyone's best friend before." I go, "Well, ha ha, um,
we've had this exact conversation before. You know, in Marietta. You  realize
that, right?" He nods, smirking, "Yes, I remember it, but it was nice
hearing it again, and I agree with your assessment about the transition period
too." Okay, we're making progress. I ask, "What do you suggest we do about
it?"  Taking a last drag off his cigarette and flicking the butt in the
vicinity of a  trash receptacle, he says, "I don't know, what do you think we
should  do about it?" Shrugging, I go, "How 'bout if you're still my boss when
it's just  us doing something together? In time I expect it'll just  naturally
fade-out, but for now you're the boss again even though there  aren't many
situations here at college for you to be bossy about." He laughs,  "That's
awesome logic! You mean our old Danny and Albert relationship without  the
name changes." I shrug, and he grins saying, "I wanted to suggest something
like that myself, but was worried you'd think I was an asshole  for
suggesting it." I bump against his side, smiling and saying, "I like  you being my
boss." He says, "Not when you're with him, of course, but then I  don't expect
to be around him much this year." I'm like, "By 'him' you mean Rob,
right?" He goes, "Who else, yeah him." I don't like the way Ryan and Robby are
becoming enemies, and  for no reason, but for now there's not much I  can do
about it and I don't want to complicate this situation further  by addressing
that stupid situation.

I  hold my fist out, saying, "We got ourselves a deal then," but instead of
bumping  my fist Ryan puts a hand behind my head and pulls it over so he
can give me a  sexy five second kiss with his tongue in my mouth. I was
feeling horny  this afternoon anyway, so this kiss, plus his scent, arouses me and
a tent  forms in my lap. Ryan breaks off the kiss, but continues holding my
face  close to his as he says, "You've been very mature about this, Dylan.

I'm proud  of you, especially because that was your main reason for staying
with me last  summer. As I recall it was to gain maturity, and you've done
that." Another  quick kiss on my lips and he takes his hand away from my
head. My hat is half  off the side of my head so I adjust that doing a quiet
gasp, then squirm  on the bench  trying to get my boner over to the side.

Letting out a long exhale,  I say,  "You kiss good." He just grins at me, so I
ask, "You think I was the mature  one about this, huh?" He chuckles, saying,
"Yeah, you'd pretty much have to  be more mature than me considering how
pouty and  immature  I've been  the last two days. I couldn't help myself; I'm
so jealous of Rob I've been  acting like a spoiled asshole around you. And
seriously, Dylan, all kidding  aside; it means the world to me the way you
reached out just now and, you  know, let me save a little face. Anyway,
thanks." I go, "Maybe I should be your  boss," and I give him a smirk. He laughs,
"No, maybe we'll follow your  clever plan instead." Then kidding, he says,
"Sit up straight, goddammit! Your  posture is awful!" I sit up as straight as
I can and he gives me a sideways hug,  murmuring, "I love you." That's
something we need to work on too, but  another time.

We  get up and walk towards the Quad with me still feeling squirrelly  and
squirmy around him. He's extra sexy when he's bossy and all  that, but
mostly I'm glad to see the atmosphere between us relaxed and  closer to normal
for the first time since he got here. And I think  it was magnanimous of him
to admit he was being jealous  and immature. Glancing over at his face as we
walk, he looks happy. He  looks like his old self instead of being tense,
which is how I'd describe him  before now. I put my arm across his shoulders
and give a squeeze leaning my head  close to his, asking, "What should we do
now, boss?" He laughs, then goes, "Oh  shit, that's right. Now I need to
decide everything for us."  His sparse beard is barely visible so he must have
shaved this  morning. That's disappointing, and his nineteen-eighties hair
style, that his roommate alluded to, is annoyingly bad, but we're into
positive-thinking at the moment so I'm not mentioning negatives, not right now
anyway. At  the Quad, Ryan goes, "Oh, what the fuck. If it's not too
crowded let's get something cold to drink." On the way up the steps we bump into
Felix, Ryan's friend since freshman year. They hug with Felix saying,
"You're  finally here, Ryan. Dylan said you'd be showing up," and he bumps fist
with  me. They talk for a few minutes and then Felix needs to take off to meet
 someone. Continuing up the steps, Ryan says, "He's probably meeting his
latest flame. Felix is a guy who always needs to  have a girlfriend. He'll
probably always need to be married too. If  one wife doesn't work out he'll
remarry repeatedly until one does work  out." I'm not sure if that's a
criticism, or what it means, but since I  don't care one way or the other, I merely
grunt, "Huh."

Inside  it's wicked crowded because almost all the orientations are over by
 now and guys living in dorms don't like being in their smallish  dorm
rooms, so they gather here. Ryan looks at the loud,  over-crowded room,
muttering, "Jesus," then he reaches in  his pocket and hands me a five dollar bill,
"Get us a couple of those cherry  slushes, Dylan. I'll be outside near the
wall." He pats my shoulder,  mumbling, "Thanks, babe," and he slips back out
the door. Ryan and Robby  are the only two people on earth who call me,
'Babe', but it sounds okay to  me coming from either of them, and frankly I'm a
little surprised that  it does. Making my way to the other side of this huge
hall-like room I get in  line at the stand selling slushes. Love those icy
concoctions although this is  probably the last month they'll be serving
them. Next month it'll  be hot chocolate or something appropriate for cold
weather.  There's only two girls ahead of me in line and as I wait I'm grinning
to  myself thinking that it didn't take Ryan long to feel comfortable  about
being bossy with me. I get the drinks, put lids on both,  then stick straws
through the openings on top. Carrying the cold plastic  cups of
artificially flavored shredded ice through the  loud-mouth college students I only get
rudely jostled about fifty  times, and then I'm outside and see Ryan talking
to his roommate,  Steve Church. Yeah, I got his name in my brain now!

Skipping  down the steps to them, Steve asks, "Can I have a sip, Dylan?" I
pass a cup to  each of them and Steve takes a long pull on the straw with
red liquid flowing  up. He hands the cup back to me, saying, "Popsicle
headache." Laughing, he pats  my shoulder and mumbles, "Thanks, Dylan." Ryan says,
"Stevie needs to fight the book store lunacy now. They sent him the wrong
textbook online." I go, "Good luck with that, Steve." With a smile and a
wave he walks off, and I say, "He's a friendly fellow. How'd you hook up with
him?" Ryan gestures towards an open bench, saying, "Over there. We'll grab
that bench before somebody takes it." I smile because it feels good, like
old  times, with Ryan bossing me around. The best part is he does it so
naturally and  I guess that's because he's had tons of practice last summer, and
not only  with me but the whole crew at work. Hell, outside work he bossed
Jeff  around even more than me. We sit and I ask him how Jeff's doing. He
grins,  "He was my only bright spot after you left, and especially after Mike
dumped me for being too gloomy. That's what Mike said: I was too gloomy.

The fucker! But Jeffy and I got really tight. I kinda love that kid." I ask,
"Were you hurt when Mike dumped you?" He sucks on his drink, then says, "Not
 really. Compared to you Mike was boring and inadequate in every  way.

Anyway, you know how Jeff sucked up to me, and he's cuter than Mike." I  nod,
and he adds, "And I don't need to tell you how into sex Jeffy is, right?" I
go, "Well actually, I think I had sex with him one time, and we were both
drunk as skunks. It was at that gay club." Ryan shrugs and drinks more  of his
cherry slush. From the beginning of the summer Jeff had a major  crush on
Ryan, and there were probably other Ryan-admirers too. Those Marietta  boys
for the most part never warmed-up to me somehow, but they thought Ryan was
hot. There's no accounting for some people's taste... it could be a hicks-ville
 thing.

Sucking  on my straw I'm thinking about Steve's lips on my straw when he
asked for  some of my slushy. That boy has a sexy mouth on him... perfect
bow-shaped  lips and a cute grin. Other than that he's your average looking
young man;  not bad but nothing special. Just to be sure, I ask, "No chance your
roommates  gay, right?" Ryan finishes his drink, gets up and drops the cup
in a trash  barrel next to the bench, saying, "I already told you there's
zero chance of  that, Dylan. Why, do you think he's hot?" I shake my head,
"Not really, but his  mouth," and Ryan laughs, "Yeah, I did notice that
myself." I ask, ""Does he know  we're gay?" Ryan nods,"Oh yeah! He and I discussed
our sexuality last  summer in like our second email. Ya know, I began my
roommate search  shortly after you left and got lucky with Steve, at least so
far. He's  definitely straight though." I'm thinking, ''Well, we'll see about
that,  won't we?' Then shake my head because I've outgrown that silly game
of  enticing seemingly straight guys with my irresistible charms... heh heh.

Oh  fuck, get a grip Dylan! Ryan pulls the bill of my cap down on my forehead
 again, asking, "What are you smiling about? You gonna test  Stevie's
commitment to Darlene?" I ask, "That's his girlfriend's name?"  He shrugs, "I
don't know. It'd be the perfect name for his girlfriend  though."

We  get up and I dump my cup in the trash as Ryan lights another cigarette.

I ask,  "How many of those things do you smoke a day, Ryan?" He says, "More
when  I'm around you, but normally about ten or so. Sometimes less." I hold
my  hand out and take the cigarettes from between his fingers, then take a
drag.  Exhaling, I pass it back to Ryan studying his face, feeling a buzzing
 in my stomach again. Damn, I wish he'd suggest we have reunion sex, or
make-up  sex, or something. I'm not going to be the one who brings it up
though. That's  one way I can break the Marietta mold;  waiting for him to suggest
buddy-sex. And I'm not going to be the one who starts  the next
conversation either. I've been doing that ever since knocking on  his dorm door.

Smelling the back of my wrist I'm thinking about sex with  Robby yesterday, and
how awesome that was, plus we'll almost surely have a  sexy time tonight. I
can't imagine why we wouldn't, and I'm really looking  forward to that. Even
so I could also go for Ryan's different approach to sex,  meaning the sub/dom
kind. Like I said, it's very different. Not better  necessarily, just a
different set of stimulation involved in his  sub/dom approach. Frankly I feel
it's completely understandable  that I'd have a desire for Ryan's brand of
hard fucking considering  all of the hard fucking we did together for nine
weeks. It's only a natural  inclination to want to experience that hot sex
again, and it's frustrating  to me Ryan doesn't seem to  get that. It's like I
need to be the one who initiates sex.  And ha! Robby thought Ryan took
advantage of my deferential posture with  him when nothing could be further from
the truth. Ryan isn't as  over-sex-driven as Robby and me, and he certainly
isn't in Willie's class  either as far as that goes. Willie would fuck me
all night. Huh, I wonder  what he's doing right now?

Ryan  speaks first, saying, "Hey! I've got a new X-box multiplayer game,
two  controllers and headsets; in  short, everything we need. Do you dare
challenge me, Dylan?" I just stare  him in the eyes. He stops walking and rubs
my shoulder, quietly saying, "Oh  well, that's on your mind, huh? It's not my
place to suggest it, Dylan.  You're the one with the boyfriend and I don't
want him on my ass... he can go  psycho where you're concerned." I'm slowly
shaking my head, then say, "You know  very well that Rob and I have an open
relationship." He rubs his nose,  talking low, "Yes, but it's still not my
place to suggest it. I'm sorry but  that's how I feel. And anyway you never
minded asking for it when you were  with me at home." His home, not mine. I'm
making a face, squeezing my hands  together in frustration, then mumbling,
"Yeah, I guess you're right, but  um, there's the concern you'll think I'm
leading you on again," and he grins,  "Yeah, but you are leading me on. Is it
possible you don't know what leading a  person on means," and he chuckles
lightly punching my shoulder. My arms go  around him and we hug for a few
seconds before he pulls his head back, looking  at me with his eyebrows raised,
expectantly. I shake my head slowly again,  then give-in and ask, "Can we
have reunion sex while your roommate's at the book  store?" He goes, "How
hard was that? Of course we can." and we start  walking towards his dorm with
me mumbling, "I promised myself I wouldn't  ask, but you make me crazy with
desire. Hey, you didn't hypnotizer me in  Georgia did you?" He goes, "No, but
I would have if I knew how."

He  reaches up and puts his arm around the back of my neck, shaking my head
a  little, saying, "Thanks for finally asking, babe. In two more minutes I
would  have asked you." He's lying about that. Ryan's too stubborn to do
that, and he  has the willpower of, um, whoever has strong willpower... a bull
dog maybe.  Certainly not me. Now I'm all jittery though and my belly feels
funny, or  is it my groin. Down there in that general area anyway. It feels
kind of good actually, that is until an idea floats scarily past my  mind.

As  we're going up the steps of his dormitory I'm worried he  might think I
meant the whole haircut and hard fuck routine. Oh, no,  no, no! I go, "Ryan,
um, you're not thinking, um..." and he interrupts  me, saying, "I know how
you think, Dylan, and no, this isn't the haircut  and all that. You'll
specifically need to ask for that." I mutter, "Good,"  and we go inside the front
door to the first floor. This time I don't want  Chubby to be in his dorm
room and when we pass his room it's silent in  there, so good. Inside Ryan's
dorm with the door closing behind us and all  of a sudden I feel
self-conscious. The room's so small. My bedroom is  bigger than this  and in Marietta my
room was four times as big as this room, and Ryan's  was twice as spacious
as mine. I feel like we're in  a closet and I can't catch my breath. It makes
me think of Golden saying some  guys get sexually aroused being put in a
very small space. I think he was  referring to himself, although it wouldn't
necessarily mean he's gay. Straight  people have fetishes too.

I'm  leaning against the door when Ryan turns around and laughs, "What are
you  thinking now, Dylan?" I go, "It's sorta tight in here and I feel
nervous, like  it's my first time. I'm nuts, I guess." He says, "It's okay  with
me if you want to change your mind." Walking away from the door, I'm  like,
"Don't you ever get horny, Ryan?" He says, "Yes, I'm always  horny around
you, but when you left, for example, I was satisfied with having  sex once or
twice a week. That's not the case though when I'm with the  cutest, sexiest
guy on the east coast; then I'm horny. You're irresistible  to me." I'm like,
"You could have fooled me, and why just the east coast?"  He grins, saying,
"I haven't been anywhere except the east coast." I go,  "Well, be that as
it may, I'm still feeling funny because this feels  odd, like appointment sex
or something." He goes, "Yeah,  well whatever! We can't assume Steve's
going to be out all afternoon  so, okay, I'm taking charge and telling you to
get your ass over  here." There was a little no-nonsense tone to his voice and
I can understand why  he might be a bit exasperated because I'm a bit
exasperated at myself. I'm  acting like a doofus. I walk over to him and he gets
my face between his  hands tilting my head down a little, to his height, and
gives me one of those  almost magical sexy open-mouth kisses that are so
arousing to me. My hands are  at his waist, then my arms go around him and it
all rushes back.  His scent, his lips and that perfect tongue. My body's
plastered against  his... he has a very tight body. His right leg goes between
mine as he  humps it against my hardening cock. I'm gasping now as he licks
across my cheek  and, with his lips rubbing against my ear, he murmurs, "Go
ahead, Dylan, take my  cock out now and suck it."

I  slide down his body to my knees, while pushing my boner to the side. He
says,  "Pull your pants down." I can only pull my pants and underwear down
to bunch  around my knees, at the floor. My cock's already hard and up
tightly against my belly. Undoing his pants and pulling them down a little,  and
oh man, there's Ryan's eight inch penis right in front of me, fat and
slightly firm. I pick it up as Ryan runs his fingers through my hair, murmuring,
 "This is new, you having hair, babe." My eyes are glued to his big cock,
surprised again at how heavy it is in my fingers. Stroking it a few  times,
then I lick from his nut sack up the shaft to the head of his  cock a few
times before the head goes into my mouth. My tongue licks  all around it and I
feel the head get bigger as it gets harder. Sucking some of  the shaft in,
then some more and really sucking on it as my tongue moves  around the
swollen head. Ryan adjust my head position, lifts up on his toes  and lean
forward pushing the hard head of his boner into my  throat. He goes, "Ahhhh, ooh,
jeez, mmm," then pushes another two inches of  shaft down my throat with the
head bulging out my Adam's apple. He moves it  back and forth in my throat
a half dozen times until I start gagging.  Then, ignoring my discomfort, he
leans further forward pushing the  entire eight inches of hard fat cock down
my  throat pressing his groin against my face, his pubic hairs  surrounding
my nose, mouth and chin. He murmurs, "That's my boy, take it all,  boy."

I'm gagging and struggling now, but he dominantly keeps the  pressure on, then
humps his crotch against my face the way he'd hump it against  my buttocks.

A strong sense of claustrophobia floats past  my consciousness for just a
fleeting second as I  struggle against him. He presses against my face
harder and I slip into a deep submissive trance,  dominated completely... and
relax. "Good boy," he coos, as he pulls  his boner out of my throat and then
slides it out of my mouth on my tongue. I'm  as docile as a rag doll looking
up at Ryan with my mouth still open  wide and my tongue out.

He  rubs both my shoulders giving me time to take a couple of deep
breaths. Then, with his hand on top of my head, he sternly says, "Get your  tongue
out more." I push it out as far as I can and he slides his huge  heavy hard
boner back in my mouth on my warm wet tongue and  down my throat it goes
again. My boner is so hard it's sticking  straight out now; barely quivering in
its tightness.  Oooh, it feels so good. Ryan does some fairly slow  thrusts
back and forth in my throat, the bulbous head tightly  spreading my
esophagus until I'm feeling so totally dominated I  slip into and ever deeper
submissive trance feeling my orgasm coming on  me fast now. Very fast as I'm
gagging noisily, then try squealing  as my hips hump and cum streams out my hard
penis  shooting between Ryan's legs, then again as my whole body shudders.

I  didn't even realize he'd pulled that hard-as-wood, fat boner out of my
throat  and mouth entirely. He wipes the precum-wet head across my forehead
and I open my mouth again with my tongue out as far as I can stretch it.  I'm
in a submissive daze with orgasm sensations still  sizzling around my cock
and groin. He slides the head of his boner  back in my mouth and  I suck out
precum, then hungrily take more shaft  inside my mouth ready to be deep
throated again, but Ryan cups behind  my head and pulls me forward as he back
up a couple of steps. His hard cock  coming out of my mouth again, siding off
my chin leaving a wet precum/saliva  string behind. My climax sensations
are fading but  remnants of my latest orgasm are  still noticeable streaking
around my body enough that my  shoulders shudder again. Ryan's hand pressure
on the back of my head brings me  forward further until I'm resting my
forehead on the back of my forearms on  the floor, on my knees holding my ass up
for him.  I hear from way off Ryan  saying, "Get that ass up further," then
"SMACK!" I lift my ass feeling  wonderfully dominated. A sigh comes out as
I'm still groveling in  the splendor of my submissive trance; everything
feeling really good.  The wet head of Ryan's cock is at my asshole and I think,
'Precum'  and realize there precum all over my tongue. As I twirl my tongue
around trying to taste it Ryan humps the head of his swollen boner in past
my sphincter muscle and I see streaks of red behind my eyes as I yelp in
pain, quickly coming out my submissive trance.

Ryan  is greatly aroused himself by now as he humps half that big boner  up
inside me and I lift up onto my hands with my back arching as  I clench my
teeth against the pain. Ryan mutters, "Sorry, but..." and the  rest of that
big hard organ gets shoved up my ass with his crotch  smacking flat against my
buttocks. He's rubbing my shoulder quietly asking,  "You okay, babe?" I
can't speak yet as I concentrate on dealing with  the throbbing pain inside me.

Soon I feel the pain residing and then I  notice that incredible feeling of
being filled up back there about as much  as it ever gets. My head comes up
and I murmur, "Yeah, it's starting to  feel good. I'm good." He squeezes my
shoulders, "Well I'll tell ya, nothing  ever feels this good to me, Dylan.

I missed this so much I  almost cried a couple of nights trying to think how
I could have done  better for you." I nod my head but the sensations are
building and beginning to  sizzle inside my rectum making me squirm and move,
swaying on my hands and  knees. It feels awesome doing that because swaying
moves  that big cock inside me. He pats my head, saying, "I see  you're
okay," and he starts thrusting his boner back and forth in my  ass as lights go
off in my head with sparking sexual pleasure  sensations erupting, the most
intense pleasure I know of and it  begins spreading out from my rectum, then
my cock begins firming up again.  What ecstasy it is being fucked up the
ass by Ryan's big cock.

It's  a totally different feeling from getting fucked by my lover's cock,
and even now  I know which one I love the best, but when I'm getting fucked
by Ryan I'm not  thinking about anything except his big fat boner moving back
and forth inside  me. For now it's my world of pleasure and no other
thoughts can intrude.  He's really getting into it now and the familiar, "Slap,
slap, slap,  slap," sounds are all I hear. The awesomeness of it gets me into
a mantra of,  "Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!" with every long thrust up my ass. My head
droops down  on my arms again as my body slams forward with each hard thrust,
then pulls  pack with Ryan's hands gripping my hips pulling me onto his boner
even as he's  thrusting forward. He doesn't last very long though. It
couldn't be more  then three  or four minutes and he's ready to blow. Near the
end his thrusting  gets wild as he grunts and moans, breathing noisily.

Desperate fast humping  now and then he's tight against my butt cheeks humping
against them  shooting a lot of his creamy spunk up inside me. I'm not sure
I'll reach another  climax, but then it's on me again. I hold my breath, my
body  getting stiff as a board, then, Ahhh," and out shoots a tiny streak of
cum  and I almost pass out absorbing the sensations from my quivering boner.

I'm  weak as a rag doll again, hearing heavy deep breathing, then realize
it's Ryan's  as he's leaning against my back, his head close to mine.

Thirty  seconds later he straightens up and pulls his cock from my ass.

It's  really wide open back there as Ryan smacks my butt cheek,  "SMACK!",
gasps, then chuckles, mumbling, "Holy shit, I forgot how hard I  climax when
fucking you. Oh gawd, oooh... what an orgasm!." He reaches down  to grab my arms,
helping me up. I'm still feeling dizzy, but really good  too. We shake our
heads smiling at one another, then he grabs a t-shirt out of  Steve's open
box of clothes and uses it to wipe cum from my drooling ass.  Holding the
t-shirt under my ass Ryan sits me on the edge of one of the twin  beds, then
sits next to me with his arm across my shoulders pulling me against  his side.

My head lulls over on his shoulder as I look at my pants that have  slid
down around my feet. We do some more deep breathing; he  rubs my head and
asks, "Disappointed?" I laugh, "No, I wouldn't  say disappointed. Two orgasms in
ten minutes. Not bad, and I think your  penis grew since I last felt it up
my ass." This is so different then after  Robby and I have sex together;
with sex buddies smart-ass remarks  are completely appropriate after sex.

Shaking  his head, Ryan mumbles, "That was something right there," and he
gives  the side of my face a long wet smooch. Pretty soon we both start
feeling  self-conscious sitting here with our pants around our ankles. The
roommate could  pop in any second, so Ryan pats my back and stands up to pull his
pants up. The  last I see of his cock, it's flaccid and slimy-looking from
the cum he shot up  my rectum. I get up and do one last wipe of my ass with
Steve's t-shirt,  then pull my pants up, muttering to myself, "No," and pull
my pants down again  seeing a wet spot on my jockey shorts. Ryan chuckles,
"I poured a  ginormous orgasm up your ass," as he hands me his handkerchief.

I put  it carefully in just the right spot of my jockey shorts, pull then
up  tightly, then my pants.

Ryan  goes, "Okay, you want to try the Xbox 360 now?" I'm like, "No! I need
to recover  from your Marietta-brand sex first." He goes, "Oh yeah, that
reminds me. There's  your barber toiletry kit on my desk. The Marietta boys
hope they never see those  clippers again." I'm like, "They tired of your
specialty haircuts, did they?" He  shrugs, "Well, they came every Saturday, so I
don't know. The bitching  did escalate week to week though. Ha ha, but I
liked doing those  haircuts, I know that much." He grins and messes my hair,
adding, "Not as much  as I'm going to enjoy doing your haircut." I'm very
nicely sexually satisfied  for the moment, mumbling, "Don't hold your breath
waiting for me to  ask for that." Ryan goes over to his desk and takes the
clippers out of the  toiletry kit and holds them up, smirking, "I'll use the
bare clipper blade on  the sides and back of your head, then the quarter inch...

" and I go, "Put that  thing away before you hurt yourself. Better yet, plug
it in and you  sit in the desk chair. I'll make fast work of that silly
hairdo you're walking  around with." Running his fingers through his longish
hair, he mutters, "This  looks's cool," and I go, "Did you see those two girls
outside the Quad  talking behind their hands mocking your Beatles hairdo?"

He laughs as he  puts the clippers back and zips up the kit. "I like this
long hair and I'm  staying with this style until you let me give you a
haircut."

Before  I can remind him he's already agreed his hair looks goofy Steve
walks in holding  out a text book, saying, "Success! A kid I know let me butt
in line in front of  a bunch of freshmen. Man, they look so young." Ryan
says, "You should talk with  that baby face of yours." Steve flops on the bed we
were  just sitting on, pointing at me, "Dylan looks younger than me, so
what  the fuck ya talking about?" I go, "Yeah, I look young but I'm  incredibly
mature. Just ask your roommate." Steve looks at Ryan, and Ryan  goes, "Oh
my God, yeah. Dylan's wicked mature." Looking at my wristwatch I go,  "We've
got time to, um, make the four o'clock class. I guess I'd feel  better if we
went to that orientation." Ryan shrugs, then groans, "Oh  fuck, okay, if
you want to. It'll be my first and only junior orientation."  Steve does his
really nice smile, mumbling, "Oh my God, Dylan  is wicked mature and
responsible." The real reason I decide to  go to the orientation is to avoid a
discussion with Robby about why I  didn't go. Somehow he'd blamed Ryan. It's like
those two are trying to find  reasons not to like each other and I don't
want to add fuel to that  fire.

Steve  says, "Have fun, boys," as we walk out the door. Ryan's wearing his
back pack as  he says over his shoulder, "You have fun putting all your shit
away, dude." Ryan  tells me, "Steve's been here forty-eight hours and most
of his stuff is still  unpacked." I shrug, "So what?" and Ryan goes, "Yeah,
I guess, but you know I'm a  neat freak, Dylan." I nod, "More like you have
an obsessive compulsive disorder,  that's if I can go by what I witnessed
living with you." He squeezes the back of  my neck, grinning, "It didn't take
me long to get you shaped-up in that regard.  You were putting your things
where they belong, keeping your bathroom  neat with no towels or dirty
clothes on the floor, wipe out the sink and  so forth." I go, "I know, I know, but
I wasn't a slob to start with.  Plus, you're a stubborn nag when you want
to be." He says, "When I  need to be, you mean. You got the message and
shaped up in like  three days." I mumble, "It took me three days to realize you
were serious. I  thought you were joking, fer chrissakes." Ha ha, I'm
thinking of Chubby,  smiling to myself. Ryan would have a heart attack if he
stepped into Chubby's  bedroom at home, or I'm sure his dorm room by the end of
the week. I mumble,  "Too bad you're not as concerned about your personal
appearance, Rye." he  goes, "Please don't start calling me Rye! I'm not bread,
and Whaddaya mean  my personal appearance? I'm neat." Messing his long hair
as I'm giving him  a 'look', he goes, "Oh that," and he finger-combs his
hair, mumbling, "I  already told you, my hair looks cool like this." I go,
"Let's ask a random ten  students what they think," and we rag on each other in a
good natured way until  we're outside the Ferguson Building.

I'm  so glad we're feeling comfortable with each other again, and happy
he's  acting like the Ryan I'm used to. I smirk at him and squeeze his arm,
saying,  "I'm glad we're together again. I missed you!" He smiles, "Ditto,
Dylan,"  then he sees someone and yells, "Rico, you owe me money!" A tall guy
looks over  at us and smiles, yelling back, "I paid you that twenty bucks last
 semester." Ryan's chuckling and, handing me his backpack, says, "I'll be
right  back. That prick owes me twenty bucks from  a bet we had on the Red
Sox." I take his backpack and slip it over one shoulder  watching Ryan jogging
over and bumping fist with the tall guy and two  other guys. Jeez, I never
think of Ryan having friends, or I guess they're more  like college
acquaintances. Felix, earlier this afternoon seemed  really glad to see Ryan. I
guess last year I assumed Ryan's asshole  roommate monopolized all his free
time. There were stretches of a couple of  weeks at a time last year when I'd
see Ryan in class and when lifting  weights, but that's all. I don't know what
he was doing the rest of the time.  Well that's not exactly accurate
because he'd do study groups with us too.  Still, there was a lot of time when he
was doing something without Robby  and me.

Five  minutes later Ryan comes back and shows me the twenty dollar bill he
got from  that Rico. Then he takes the loose strap of his backpack and slips
my  other arm through the strap, saying, "You'll be in charge of
backpacks,"  and he pats my hat. I look at him with a quizzical expression on my  face
and he grins, saying, "I'm your boss, remember?" I nod, chuckling, and
mumbling, "Yes sir,  boss." He's happy and I like playing along with him being
the boss when  it's just him and me. We only have this one class in common
so we're  probably not going to spend a hell of a lot of time together.

Walking  into the class room we get seats halfway back from the professor. I take
 Ryan's backpack off and sit down with it in my lap, then look inside. He
watches  me as I hold up each item from his backpack: pen and pencil
container, two  notebooks, his course agenda, four or five blue books, two granola
bars, a  bag of dried fruits and nuts, his student ID, hand sanitizer, a
pocket book  of 'Don Quixote', and breath mints. I pass him a breath mint and we
chuckle  about that. He goes, "Let me have the notebook, I've got a pen." I
hand it to  him and we listen to a middle-age male professor talk in a
boring monotone.  I can hardly keep my eyes open after five minutes.

Ryan's  taking notes as I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes. He's
conscientious about note taking, much the way Robby's conscientious in
class. Ryan and I used to screw around goofing on each other early in  our
freshman year but Robby was diligent about insisting we be serious  in class.

That apparently took with Ryan more so than  with me. I'm rustling though his
backpack again looking for one of  those granola bars to give me a spark of
energy when Ryan grabs my arm looking  at me and shaking his head. Jesus,
he's turned into Robby-the-second. I was  thinking just the other day that
Robby and Ryan are getting more alike all  the time, even as they seem to like
each other less. Huh! We survive the  orientation and drift out with the
other students, me wearing Ryan's backpack.  Outside again, he says, "I'm glad
we went to that," and I frown, asking, "Why's  that?" He goes, "Weren't you
listening? We need to do only short  brown-nosing extra credit articles
relating to our course title, 'Modern  Society". The extra credit will override
a bad test grade. We can copy articles  off the hundreds of short news items
online. Just print them out  and copy word for word. Stress-free class." I
nod, "Oh yeah, I heard him  say something about that."

It's  almost five o'clock by now and I'm wondering what Robby's up to, so I
text  him. He text back telling me to meet him at the Quad for a ride
'home'. I  still don't think of the apartment as 'home' yet, but if Robby's there...

 ha ha.  That's what I was thinking recently: home is where Robby is. All
of a sudden I  badly want to see him. I say, "Ryan, honestly, it's been
awesome spending  time with my best friend this afternoon." He smiles, then leans
forward and  kisses me quickly on the lips. I resist looking around to
check-out who saw him  do that, as he says, "Thanks to you it's been great, and
especially being  'buddies' again too." I go, "I'll say," as I reach around
to feel if any of his  cum has soaked through his handkerchief. None has, so
I start to take  off his backpack, but he goes, "No, walk with me to my
dorm so you can get your  barber stuff."

I'm  sensing some good Marietta feelings towards Ryan, and that's not a bad
 thing. I had a really good time there. Bumping his side grinning at him,
he  goes, "A touch of our old times, huh, Dylan?" I nod, "Yeah, it's nice.

Um, we  only have the one class together so I hope we can hang out together
other days  too." He nods, "Me too. Text me and we'll definitely do that."

Feeling goofy  again I nod my head much too energetically at that, making him
laugh, then  he seriously says, "If you want, Dylan, I'll do the buddy sex
with you  again right now." Oh, I didn't expect that, and go, "Um, what about
your roommate?" He says, "I'll ask him to give us fifteen minutes, but
you've  gotta rim my ass this time. I've missed that soooo much. Whaddaya say?"

I reluctantly shake my head, "Nah, I can't,  I told Rob I'd  meet him at
the Quad." He shrugs, "Just trying to do my best for my best  friend." I go,
"Ha, yeah, keep it up." He says, "Only around you,  babe."

In  his dorm room I take off the backpack as Steve looks up from his
position  lying on the  bed, asking, "How was it boys?" I mumble, "As much fun as
a barrel of rats."  Ryan's looking around the room, muttering, "Jesus,
Stevie, you didn't put a  single thing away." Steve grins at me as he's nodding
at Ryan, asking, "Was  he like this when you stayed with him?" I chuckle,
"Get used to it, dude.  Your roommate has an obsessive compulsive disorder." He
asks, "A neat freak,  huh?" I nod, "Yep." Ryan hands me the barber kit,
telling Steve, "I'll try to  remember it only applies to me, Steve. You can be
as sloppy as you feel you need  to be." I push the toiletry kit back at
Ryan, mumbling, "No, you hold on to the  barber stuff, just in case, ya know?"

He nods, looking smug, and I go, "Well,  it's been more than swell, but I
gotta go now." Ryan drops the barber kit on his  desk, saying, "Text me,
Dylan," then puts a hand on my shoulder  and leans in to again kiss me on the
lips. Just a quick one, then he  says, "See you soon, I hope." I nod my head
glancing at the big eyes on Steve as  he stares; looking like he can't believe
Ryan kissed me right in front of him.  This might very well be the first
time he's ever seen two guys kiss. With a wave  of my hand I'm out the door.

Walking  toward the Quad I feel really good that Ryan and I are back on
level ground  again. I like his roommate too, but now I'm heading for the true
love of my  life. Life is good sometimes. Inside the Quad I'm looking for
Robby and then see  him at a table with Golden Summers and a really cute guy
with longish blond  hair wearing a Merrimack baseball cap. He's obviously a
freshman sitting up  straight and it looks like he's almost as tall as
Golden, but with a much  slimmer body. Could he be a ball player? He looks too
small.


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 usually around 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

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

Please consider a tax deductible donation of any size to
nonprofit Nifty to help with the expense of maintaining this ginormous
free story site. Thank you very much.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html