Date: Tue, 27 Sep 2016 11:03:29 -0400 From: MGTBILL@aol.com Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter 8 DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter 8 by Donny Mumford I'm sitting in the stands at the baseball park with Frankie, aka Francesca, and her friend, Beth. The girls are on either side of me with their arms wrapped around one of mine. We're watching Robby practicing with Danny Monday, Golden Summers, and Danny's unnamed freshman. I'm told Danny's freshman is an asshole, but the four of them seem to be getting along just fine so I'm not sure about the 'asshole' part. Obviously I'd be enjoying myself more if Frankie and Beth weren't insisting on our sitting arrangement as it's a bit a awkward for me. Three guys in the stands to my right glance over at me and the girls occasionally, perhaps thinking I'm a hot stud with two girlfriends... ha-ha. Yeah, but I'm willing to sacrifice the 'stud' misconception for a little breathing room. Also, Beth's annoyingly taken procession of my baseball cap; I suppose she's imitating the way Frankie took procession of Robby's original baseball hat. Neither Robby nor I are the least bit happy about the hat thefts, but not having much experience dealing with girls we're not sure what to do about it. The hat Beth is now wearing was originally Ryan's Merrimack baseball cap. It's the one the team gave him way back during his freshman year for being the baseball team's equipment manager. The hat is nicely broken-in by now, so preferable to a new one. And, ha, it also has some sentimental value to me. I remember the Friday Ryan gave me the hat. It was early into my Marietta experience and right after one of the ridiculous haircuts Ryan was giving me every week. It had to be early in the summer because I was still whining about how short the haircuts were. Chuckling at my whining, he tossed his hat at me, saying something like, 'Here ya big baby, wear my hat if you're so self conscious about your haircut.' That was during his stern period when he was the boss at work and in-charge of me in general. I stopped whining about the haircuts after the first two or three of them. Finally realizing he didn't care if I whined or not. Ryan was a happy camper and quite pleased with himself about my haircuts. Thinking back to my Georgia days, Ryan enjoyed every day; he had zero moody periods in Georgia. Obviously now, here at Merrimack, Ryan's not his happy Marietta self, and that's becoming a problem. Anyway, I've grown attached to that damn hat. Thinking about Georgia brings to mind the buddy-sex Ryan and I engaged in during my stay at his house. Lots of buddy-sex in Georgia! Yesterday, however, was our only buddy-sex since he got here. As a matter of fact it was my buddy-sex at college this year! That's discounting the quickie with Tracy of course. Actually it's a relief to know I have at least one serious side-sex buddy at college. For a while there I wasn't sure I could even count on Ryan. He's in an okay mood now although the unfortunate word that occurs to me for describing Ryan's behavior since arriving at Merrimack is: petulant. I wouldn't tell Ryan that because he'd get even more petulant, that's if I can go by past experiences with him the last few days. In an effort to bring him out of his mood I suggested that he be my boss when I'm not with Robby. You know, bring a touch of Georgia here to college for him. Silly arrangement obviously, childish even, but basically harmless. Whatever, I'm trying that to see if I can get Ryan's mood to improve. It's like, after seeing his self-image improve significantly last summer, I'd hate to see him regress. He has perked up a little bit. As light begins fading at the ballpark the players drift, in small groups, into the clubhouse. Instead of the clubhouse, Robby and Golden come right up in the stands where we're sitting with the girls acting like the guys are rock stars. They both try being blasé about it, but I can tell they like the attention. It's unspoken, but understood, the girls are just having fun and aren't really as air-headed as they pretend. I tell Robby, "Guess what? I've invited your entire fan club for dinner tonight at the apartment." He gives me a strained smile, like, 'Why the fuck would you do that?' Then, recovering, he mumbles an unconvincing, "Awesome," then asks Golden, "Would you care to join us?" Golden goes, "You bet, thanks!" They go into the locker room to drop off equipment while my girlfriends and I wander over to the exit. Frankie says, "Beth and I need time to get spruced up for your dinner party, Dylan." I roll my eyes at that and Beth asks, "What's your address, sweetie?" I tell her and she logs it into her cellphone, asking, "Should we dress up for dinner?" Trying to remember why the fuck I invited them, I'm like, "Um, what? Oh, no, don't get dressed-up, but if you want to take showers that'd be okay." That didn't come out right, but they laugh as both of them smack my shoulder, saying, "We shower all the time!" When Robby and Golden join us, Frankie lets go of my arm to capture one of Robby's, while Beth's doing the same with Golden. They've abandoned me so I mumble a version of Golden's line from yesterday, "Two-timing bitches," and they laugh. Jeez though, it would drive me crazy having a girl hanging on my arm like that day in and day out. Walking towards the dormitories I spot the hoodie kid I saw in the bleachers earlier. He's sitting on the steps of the first dormitory we're approaching and smoking a cigarette talking with two other guys. Huh, maybe he is a freshman, although I initially thought he looked too young to be in college. I don't recognize either of the guys he's with, but I'm positive he's the kid from the stands. Too late I realize I'm staring at him and one of the guys Hoodie Boy's with taps Hoodie's arm and points at me. We make eye contact with him grinning at me. I immediately avert my eyes feeling my face getting hot. Balls! Half a minute later, smelling the back of my hand, I take a chance and glance over again and see Hoodie boy's still looking my way. He nods his head at me while exhaling a lot of cigarette smoke. Damn he looks cool. I think I nod back at him but I'm not sure because I immediately looked away again. Fuck! It's embarrassing getting caught glancing at him a second time. Jesus, I'm acting like the nervous freshman and he's acting like the experienced junior. Yeah, but I felt some kind of connection with Hoodie both times we made eye contact. Still, I can't imagine how anything meaningful could develop between us. The chances of meeting him in any significant manner are almost zero. He's a freshman and I'm a junior and we're unlikely to be at the same place at the same time, never mind in a circumstance where we could discuss things. Wait, Tracy's Speak Easy might be a place that a chance meeting with Hoodie Boy could happen. It's still a long shot though, and I'm not sure anything would come from a chance meeting anyway. We're a block past his dormitory when the girls and Golden turn into dormitory row. Robby and I wave at them and keep going straight towards the parking lot and Robby's pickup. Merrimack has a lot of parking lots and some of them are huge. Robby says, "Okay, Dylan, let's hear it: why the hell did you invite the girls for dinner?" I shrug because I really don't remember why... it just happened. It's like I didn't want the girls to think I was dumping on them, or something along those lines. Trying to rationalize my reason, I tell Rob about the girls' parents living in Boston and how Francesca's father has ground level box seats at Fenway Park. Plus I suggest to Robby we'll be more rounded socially having a few female friends. He laughs at that, and asks, "Which one of those two reasons would you say carries the most weight with you?" I mumble, "I've never sat in Fenway's ground-level box seats." We both chuckle at that, and then I realize I'll need to prepare the entire dinner myself. There'll be no help from Chubby tonight. Hmmm, maybe I need to teach Robby to cook, but when I suggest it to him, he goes, "Oooh, nooo, babe! That's your department. I've got zero aptitude for food preparation. Christ, I fuck-up scrambling eggs." Huh, that's convenient! First thing we do back at the apartment is follow Robby's study plan, which means completing all homework assignments before doing anything else. As we're just finishing up with that we hear the front doorbell. Robby says, "If you'll get the door, I'll put this stuff in our backpacks." Opening the door I see Golden, and he has his roommate with him. That's unexpected so I'm looking at him quizzically, and he says defensively, "I asked Rob and he said it was okay." I go, "Oh, of course it's okay," and hold my hand out to his roommate, saying, "Hi, I'm Dylan." He smiles, "Nice to meet you, Dylan. I'm Jake Darling and, as you already know, I'm Golden's roommate. Thanks for the invite." I nod, grinning, while saying, "Nice haircut, Jake." He grins back at me nodding his head at Golden, who shrugs, mumbling, "I'm his barber and he's my driver." Golden has his long wavy light-brown hair parted in the middle tonight. It hangs down just outside his eyes, covering his ears. It's one of those deals where he needs to run the fingers of both hands, starting from the middle of his forehead, moving his fingers quickly in opposite directions getting the hair away from his eyes. He does it every thirty seconds or so, probably without thinking about it. Really nice hair, but too long for a guy. I say to Golden, "Nice arrangement; you're Jake's barber and he's got the car, so he's your driver." He shrugs, and as they come in, I ask, "Who's your barber, Golden?" Without hesitating, he says, "My friend, Alex, back home. He graduated from Paul Mitchell's Hair Stylist programs last year. He styled my hair before he even went to the school. Um, he's been doing it since I was a teen actually. We're best buds." He answered my question like it was a serious one, where I was actually being sarcastic inferring he needs a barber. I nod my head, asking, "Did he teach you how to cut your brothers' hair?" He goes, "Nah, I was doing that even before Alex started giving me haircuts. He's working in a women's salon doing their hair, not guys." Well, Golden does have sort of a woman's hairstyle, or a guy's one from an earlier generation. I say, "I read online that since the turn of the century, with the growing popularity of buzz cuts and shorter hair for men and boys, there's been more home haircutting-kit sales then ever before. Something like ten times..." Interrupting the haircutting talk, Robby joins us and bumps fist with Jake, saying, "Nice to see you again, Jake. I guess you're looking forward to playing on the freshman hockey team," and they do some jock talk while I drift into the kitchen to defrost a chicken in the microwave. Luckily it's a big chicken. Defrosting meat in a microwave takes more time then you might think. Plus, I need to stand near the microwave because every minute or so the microwave beeps and I need to turn the chicken over. Pain in the ass, but the dinner was my dumb-ass idea so, ya know... The girls aren't here yet and I don't expect them for an hour, but since the guys are early arrivals Robby's passes out beers and the three of them go out on the balcony leaving me to do all the work. Jake is my height, but much stockier. He probably weights fifty pounds more than I do, but then he's a hockey player and needs the extra bulk for crashing into the boards during hockey games, or whatever. I'm not much of a hockey fan. Jakes dark hair has been cut by Golden just like Robby's and mine. His eyes are dark brown and overall he's okay looking except his nose is too long. He's clean shaven and basically just your average looking jock with a touch of arrogance in the way he carries himself, but that's not unusual for jocks. Guys who have been among the best athletes in their middle and high school years tend to believe they're special, and in a way I guess they are. Robby's never had a big ego like that though, which is one of the reasons he's popular with his teammates. While thinking these thoughts I'm putting the defrosted chicken in the preheated oven. Robby comes in off the balcony to get the CD player rocking some tunes, then he comes over and stands behind me with his hands on my shoulders watching me peel a potato. As I drop the peeled potato in a pot of water, Robby goes, "Hell, I can do that, Dylan. Let me help." Well okay, Rob! As he peels potatoes I make coleslaw and we talk a little about Jake. Robby feels pretty much the same way I do, saying, "Ah, Jake's your typical high school athlete thinking he's a hot shit. He's not a bad guy though. Golden says he's been a good roommate so far." The potatoes get peeled by Robby, the coleslaw's in the refrigerator, and after I dump a box of frozen peas in a pan of water we join the guys on the balcony. Later I'll make gravy, mash the potatoes and carve the chicken. Or maybe Robby can carve the chicken. Jake's like, "What's for dinner, Dougie?" I go, "It's Dylan, and we're having roast chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw... like that." He goes, "Cool, sounds okay." The girls show up and there's lots of chatter and laughing from them. Both girls have this unique, infectious good humor about them that's appealing. They don't act like any girls I've ever known. No that's not entirely true because a couple of the posse boys' girlfriends were very easy to get along with too. The best part about Beth and Frankie is they don't do that silly-ass giggling all the time. Jake tries coming-on to Beth like he's this stud jock, but I can tell Beth isn't impressed with him, although she's being nice about it. Naturally Jake doesn't pick up on her lack of interest so I'm grinning to myself and getting a kick out of that. The dinner turns out pretty good although it's more or less taken for granted by our guests. I almost feel like they think it's my obligation to provide dinner for everyone. At least Robby has the manners to say, "Thanks, Dylan, the dinner was delicious." Meanwhile Jake, Golden, and both girls are mostly talking about the renovated dining halls they're assigned to, and they're trying to outdo each other as to which dining hall has the best food. I'm thinking that it's fortuitous for them they're so pleased with their dining hall food because that's where they'll be eating from now on if it's up to me. I'm not making anymore grandiose gestures of inviting people for a free dinner that Robby and I pay for and I need to prepare. No more invitations from me. By the time everyone leaves it's past ten o'clock and the kitchen looks like a tornado hit it. Robby and I look at the mess in the kitchen, then look at each other. Shrugging, we methodically begin cleaning-up and putting things away. It takes only like fifteen minutes to get the place cleaned-up, the dishwasher running, and the trash taken out, but it's far from a fun fifteen minutes. I decide not to mention the lack of appreciation shown by our dinner guest for fear it'll sound whiney. Then, while turning out the lights, Robby goes, "Maybe we need to be less hospitable, Dylan. Our guests tonight weren't falling all over themselves thanking us. Mostly I'm surprised the girls weren't more appreciative. As for myself I thought you did an awesome job and the dinner was exceptional." I go, "Oh, thanks, Rob, you're sweet. I agree though, it was my bad idea inviting them for dinner, but I'm telling you now it won't happen again any time soon. No more random dinner invitations." We do our bathroom stuff, including a shower that we take together, managing not to have sex while we're doing it. With the lights out we're in bed wearing boxer shorts, talking about the beginning of our junior year and deciding it been a bit exhausting. Not so exhausting we go to sleep without a sexy time together though. It's hard to imagine not having sex when you're in bed almost naked with the guy you're in love with. We start off just casually rubbing our hands on each other as we talk about today, and then we're rubbing our noses together and kissing. From there things take care of themselves and seem to happen naturally and wonderfully on their own. There's growing arousal from the feel and scent of each other's smooth tight bodies, our sexy natural male muscle definition feels good, and the added attraction for me is Robby's sparse beard against my cheek. Too much stimulation to ignore even if I wanted to, which I don't. When we've so sexually-aroused we're moaning like two animals in heat, our boners take over complete control of our brains and I abruptly flop over onto my stomach while Robby rustles around on the mattress getting in back of me, between my legs. I go up on my knees, my face in my pillow, as a squeaky whine of anticipation slips out of my mouth and then a gasp from Robby; then, some unexpected smacks on my left butt cheek. Three hard, "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" and, without a word, "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" on my other butt cheek. My anus closes tightly so Robby uses both hands kneading each stinging butt cheek getting both of them feeling warm, then hot. It gets me hot too and my boner tightens-up almost painfully now as precum drips down onto the sheets. Spreading my butt cheeks Robby's thumb gets pushed into my asshole and the pad of it rubs my prostate; more precum drools out of my hard cock. I'm positively going to cum, there's no question about that, except I don't cum. The muscles in my anus tightly hug the thumb as Robby fucks my asshole with it, the thumb nail tantalizingly scraping the wall of my rectum making me squirm on the bed scrunching my face and expecting to climax, but again I don't. His thumb goes back and forth, back and forth, then he pulls it out and my anus lips close again, but limply now compared to their tightness after the spanking. Another deep breath by Robby as the hard head of his cock, wet with precum, presses against my anus separating the lips... I shudder, then moan. A little pressure and the head pushes past my sphincter. We both moan, then a hard hip thrust and three inches of fat hard cock goes up my ass filling me up back there so awesomely my shoulders do their shuddering thing. Robby leans against my buttocks forcing the last of his cock inside my body. He cups under my hips with both hands, his spread fingers almost touching my boned-up cock that's now up against my belly. The deliberate way Robby's silently doing everything gets me very sexually excited. I interpret it as him being dominant, so I do my submissive part by purposely pushing my ass up as a sign my ass is his to do with as he wishes. Fuck it; I'll create my own sub/dom sex in my head. Robby slowly withdraws his engorged penis, the big hard head pressing against and tantalizing my prostate while the shaft's igniting the thousands of nerve endings around my anus. Oh my God! I'm biting the pillow now and moving my knees, taking deep shuddering breaths. His quick intrusion hurt and felt magnificently good simultaneously. He slowly pulls back his boner; back, back, back until the pulpous head is distending the lips of my asshole, then that fat hard cock gets pushed back up my ass just as slowly as he pulled it back. Again my shoulders do their involuntary shuddering, this time with shivers going up and down my spine. Robby lets out a long exhale that creates a warm breeze on my back. A few humps against my buttocks increases my anticipation level, then he starts fucking my ass fast and hard, "Slapslapslapslap." Only pleasure sensations now; the pain long forgotten. This is the only sex I've had today and I assume the same for Robby, so tonight it's basically a rush to orgasm; a horny need both of us is feeling. Each of us would be the other's first choice to have sex with, but that's not what's primarily on either of our minds at the moment. We both want to experience the indescribable thrill of climax, a thrill we haven't felt all day. Sexual climax, having an orgasm, is something most of us want to experience, but now that we're used to experiencing it as frequently as we've been doing it lately, that frequency creates a need in us, which Robby's taking care of right now. There's the normal moaning and deep breathing from Robby as he thrusts his hard organ back and forth in my rectum creating sizzling sensations inside me like nothing else can match, sensations creating pulsing vibrations of my nuts, and at the head of my hard cock. Climaxes build and build and so do my expectations and anticipations, but with contrary desires. On the one hand I want to have the best orgasm imaginable, and I mean right this fuckin' second, but on the other hand I want this unbelievably awesome feeling to continue forever. The climax wins the race every time and we have ours climaxes simultaneously, like occasionally happens. My pelvic muscles contract, my heart rate and blood pressure increase, and then with a squeal... BOOM! Euphoric pure pleasure and wonderfulness as my autonomic nervous system takes over and my climax explodes. The intense pleasure of orgasm lasts from five to twenty seconds for me, and then it's in a drifting mode of pleasant aftereffect... a limp relaxed contended sense. After having an orgasm with Robby there's a spike of deep love for him in my heart which is a major part of the after effects. After climaxing with someone other than Robby I need to settle for being temporarily contended and sexually satisfied, which is pretty fucking good too. With Robby it's all that plus the loving feeling and therefore I have my best climaxes and best after effects with him. Tonight it's the spectacular feeling of his creamy load being shot up my ass at the same time I'm squealing at the cum pumping out of my boner and shooting up on my chest, cum spray hitting under my chin, then it happens again and I could cry it feels so fucking good. How anything can feel so good, yet be so fleeting, is Nature's little teasing-joke on all of us. Robby and I ignore the cum wetness on the bed, and our bodies, as we're hugging and kissing in between murmured words of love. The immediate emotions of love after the sex act calms down slowly and then I think it's me who falls asleep first tonight, and how perfect to do so in Robby's strong arms with his scent in my head along with the sweet memory of our latest sex together. Thursday morning I wake up with Robby pulling on my ear as he grins down at me. Without speaking we come together and have sex in the morning. Oh what a wonderful way to start the day. This morning it's partially lover's sex with some playfulness thrown in for good measure. Robby fucks me face to face with me on my back, my legs pulled back and his hard cock thrusting inside me. Face to face like this we can kiss as his hips rhythmically drive his hard cock back and forth in my rectum. I feel an orgasm coming on quickly and, as happens sometimes, I climax in less then two minutes. It felt fantastic but it's disappointing to cum so quickly with Robby. Everything about him really turned me on this morning so I got overly aroused. Then there's the memories of last night's sex in my mind; another reason it happened for me too fast this morning. Robby continues driving his hard boner back and forth with his face close to mine, my arms around the back of his neck as we look into each other's eyes. I'm thrusting up as he's thrusting down and it goes on for so long I almost have a rare second climax during the same sex act. Robby's body finally gets stiff, his face gets scrunched-up and he blows his load up my ass, then collapsed on me dragging his cock from my ass and we lie here breathing deeply. Finally he lifts his head, grinning at me, saying, "Good morning, Dylan. Nice morning, isn't it?" I smile and hug him, mumbling, "Wicked awesome, Rob." To save time we shower together again and then leave the apartment without breakfast, or even a mug of coffee. I'll sacrifice the coffee for sex any morning of the week. As it turns out we have time to buy paper cups of coffee at the Quad and take them with us to first class, just making it on time. It's feels awkward drinking coffee in the front row of class, although Robby doesn't seem bothered by it and neither does the nice Professor McGovern, who smiles at us, asking, "Running a little late this morning, boys?" As a reward for her considerate attitude I give her one of my major smiles, the one that gets people optimistically undressing. The Professor, however, manages to control herself amazingly well. This class, and the two that follow play out much like they did yesterday. What's different today is, after second class, Robby and I drive to Stop & Shop to buy cold cuts and sub rolls for lunch at the apartment. As we take the groceries inside the apartment, Robby says, "I can make sandwiches, Dylan, so I'll be in charge of lunches, okay?" I shrug, "Sure thing, Rob." While he makes the sub sandwiches I go online and reply to emails and texts received from, among others: Charlie in Delaware, Willie who's at a college in New York, Seth who tells me he got promoted at Dickers and Son, there's a funny text from Chubby when he was in his second class of the day, typed in class of course, and an email from Connor who's in the Army stationed in Texas. Every email or text makes me smile and feel good. When Robby calls me for lunch I see he's made Italian subs of hard salami, provolone cheese, tomato, onion, and hot cherry peppers. Virgin olive oil and a sprinkling of dried oregano were spread inside of the sub rolls before he added the other ingredients, and I'm like, "Goddamn, Rob, this is a good Italian sub!" and it is too! We drink Cherry Coke with the subs, then have slices of Key Lime pie for dessert. Nice lunch. The afternoon class is over by two-fifteen and Robby's again going to the baseball complex. I half want to go with him to sit in the stands watching him on the field and enjoying the weak sun while it's still with us. The drawback to that is I except the girls will probably be there too. Avoiding a repeat of yesterday, I tell Robby to text me when he's ready to leave and I'll drive the pickup down to get him. He gives me the pickup's keys and his backpack. After dropping off our backpacks in the pickup, now I'm not sure what to do. Then, lighting a cigarette, a picture of Hoodie Boy drifts into my head. Huh, I should buy a Merrimack hoodie! It's a nice day so I decide to walk to the bookstore that's on the other side of the campus. The book store sells books of course, plus anything they can put the Merrimack logo on. On the way across campus I see a guy walking ahead of me who's about the same size as Ryan. He's hatless with the same nineteen-seventies longish hairdo Ryan has. It's light brown hair too, just like Ryan's. Hmmm, maybe it's Ryan... ha ha. He's with a guy taller than him, so I know it's not his roommate because Steve's not tall. It might be the tall acquaintance of Ryan's who owed him twenty bucks from sophomore year; the guy I saw two days ago right before Ryan's and my orientation class. They're ahead of me going my way so I follow them without calling out to Ryan. I'm aware that this is kind of a sneaky thing to do, but curiosity wins out. Before reaching the book store they turn left towards the two new dormitories, the ones Merrimack had built last summer. I hesitate now because it's out of the way for me, but then I continue following them until they go inside the second dormitory. I stop and think about it. I'd like to see what the new dorms look like inside, but if I run into Ryan what reason could I give for me being there? Yeah, that's not a good idea. I'll ask him about it tomorrow when we have our class together. Yeah, that's it; I'll tell him I was on my way to the book store when I saw him headed for the new dorms. Of course now I'm going to need to buy something at the book store no matter if I like their hoodies or not. Ya know, in case he asks what I bought. As I'm retracing my steps to get headed in the right direction for the book store again, I'm thinking there was something unusual about how those two were walking together. One of them was walking too closely to the other. One of them was in the other guy's space, so to speak. I'd be shocked if Ryan's gotten himself into another situation where some dominant sadist asshole is treating him like shit, so that leaves the tall guy walking too closely to Ryan. Could it be Ryan's found himself a submissive sex buddy that I don't know about? That seems unlikely because he's got me, and when would he have had time during the last three days to develop a submissive sex buddy? It's not someone from last year because Ryan was tied-up, literally at times, with his asshole roommate until late in the last semester when I saved his ass. So it's a mystery, which probably has a simple explanation. It's all very curious though. There's no line at the book store now that the semester has begun, but there always seems to be students in here. I wander around checking out various clothing items. Everything is made with Merrimack's colors of course, which are Navy blue and gold. I settle on a lightweight hoodie sweatshirt that's Navy blue with gold lettering spelling out WARRIORS on the front. The lettering is tastefully done and not gaudy like on some of the other clothing apparel. All twenty-four varsity teams at Merrimack are nicknamed 'Warriors', and therefore that word on the front of my hoodie. It only cost $49.99 so it's not a rip-off at all. Outside the bookstore I dump the plastic bag in a trashcan and rip the price tag off the hoodie, then pull the sweatshirt over my head. I choose a large although medium is plenty big enough for me. It's just that I like sweatshirts that are too big because it's the sloppy-look; the I-don't-give-a-shit kind of look that I like. I've got the hood up and this thing feels good so I'll be wearing it most days until the really cold weather sets in when I'll need something a lot warmer. Walking back to a more familiar section of the campus, I light a cigarette wondering if I should have bought a baseball cap while I was in the book store. Beth still has mine and I still want it back even though her wearing the hat has somewhat ruined the uniqueness of it for me. Like I said, I'm going to get it back anyway, so if I had a new one to give her it might make for an easier transition. The question is: should I go back to the book store and buy a baseball cap? Then I hear someone behind me shout, "Yo, dude, wait up." There's no one especially near me so I turn around and see one of Robby's teammates jogging towards me. It's the guy we talked with in the Quad the other day. The tall black, cutely-good-looking senior. Damn, what the fuck's his name? Was it doctor? Some profession, but what's the difference since he obviously can't remember my name either. He comes up and pats my back, asking, "You're Rob's boyfriend, right?" Holy shit, what do I say to that? Some guys on the team know Robby's gay, although he never made a formal announcement about it. I bump fists with this guy and, almost without even thinking about it, mumble, "Yeah, Rob's my boyfriend. Um, Rob and I talked with you yesterdays in the Quad, right?" He nods, "Yeah, that was me. Where ya coming from?" I go, "Why? What difference does it make?" He grins and, damn, he's awfully cute for a tall guy. He says, "No reason, it was just something to say," then he chuckles nervously. This is awkward, us just standing here, so I tell him, "The book store. That's where I'm coming from. I needed a hoodie. The weather's getting chilly." He nods his head again, "Nice hoodie." I shrug and do a fake cough, then take a drag off my cigarette as he asks, "You walking back to your dorm?" I go, "Um, no, I don't have a dorm. Rob and I rented an apartment at Royal Crest. You know, across the street, down that way." He nods and asks, "Mind if I walk with you?" I go, "Why would I mind. Um, where you going?" We start walking and he says, "Oh, nowhere in particular." He's wearing the team baseball cap. His hair is longish and bushy all around his head below the cap. Huh, funny that when Robby introduced me to this guy I was wondering if I'd ever get a chance to cut his hair, and here he is. I've only cut an African American's hair once before, and he was half Caucasian. It was little Sly Workman's hair. He's the little brother of Sammy who was on Ryan's work crew in Georgia. Anyway, Sly's hair was amazingly soft and fine and I'd like another go at cutting hair like that. Sam confided in me that little Sly has a black daddy and the same white mom as Sam's. I wonder if his hair is any different than this guy's hair. It looks the same, but it'd be creepy of me to come out and ask, 'Ya want a free haircut?' I mean, maybe he doesn't feel he even needs a haircut. Instead I say, "I'm sorry, but I've forgotten your name," and then I think of it, and say it along with him, "Lawyer!" and he adds his last name, "Ross." We both kind of snort out a laugh because we said his name together, then I go, "I'm Dylan Newman," and he goes, "Oh, I remember your name." I say, "Liar," and he laughs, then says, "You caught me, I'm bad with names, but I remember you." The way he said 'you' gives me a little chill and I look over at him. He grins raising his eyebrows like he did when he looked me in the eyes at the Quad the other day. We maintain eye contact longer then we should, then I look away doing another fake cough, coughing into my fist this time. He asks, "Are you coming down with a cold or are you smoking too many cigarettes?" I shrug and we begin walking again as I change the subject, asking, "How do you think the team is gonna do this year?" He mumbles, "It's hard to say until we all get together for practice with the coaches." We've walked almost to the parking lot where the pickup is parked and I give a thought to making the excuse of driving back to the apartment. I don't though because he's the one who stopped me and I'm curious if he had a reason for doing that, or if he just wanted someone to walk with. I point at Robby's pickup, "That's Rob's and my transportation, that pickup right there." He goes, "Yeah? Well I can see Rob driving a pickup. He's a down to earth kind of guy." Leaning against the bumper, I'm like, "Ya know, Lawyer, I don't recall seeing you playing on the team last year; your junior year, right?" he nods, "Yeah, I hurt myself at the last practice before the first game of the season and was out all season with a high angle sprain." Grinning I go, "What a pussy! You were out all year with a sprained ankle?" He grins back at me, "You don't know much about high ankle sprains, do ya?" I shrug, "No, I guess I don't," and he points to a spot above his ankle, saying, "It's damage above the ankle actually. Damage to ligaments that connect the tibia to the fibula and usually takes six or seven weeks to heal. We started last year's 35 game schedule in early March with games south of the Mason/Dixon line, due to the weather in New England, and ended our schedule late in April. That's basically a seven week college baseball season which coincided with my high ankle sprain's healing process." I mutter, No shit?' Flicking my cigarette butt towards the gutter, except it somehow flies over my shoulder and off the outside driver's rearview mirror of the pickup. Ignoring that, I ask, "Were you still on the team with the ankle sprain?" He frowns, watching the cigarette butt's path, then goes, "Yeah, of course. I went to practice every day for treatment, and I traveled with the team for away games because I was basically coaching my freshman replacement. Mentoring him." I go, "Oh, uh huh," and he shrugs, adding, "The problem though was when someone's not on the active roster, the other guys on the team tend to forget about you. Not Rob though, he asked how I was doing all the time and he'd sit at my locker talking with me. I can't tell you how much I appreciated that, and even though he's a year behind me I look up to him as a team leader. He's one of the good guys, that boyfriend of yours." I go, "Yeah, I know. I love him." Lawyer sort of looks away without commenting on that, so I ask, "How'd you know he was gay?" He looks back at me, "The equipment manager told me." I go, "Ryan Wilcocks?" He nods, "Yeah, that's the dude's name, although I couldn't have come up with it on my own. Little guy who spent too much time in the shower area. Heh heh..." I feel protective of Ryan, saying, "Well, he had to pick up the towels, didn't he?" Lawyer shrugs, saying, "I guess, anyway that's how I knew Rob was gay, and then when I saw you with him in the Quad, um, well you had this dreamy look in your eyes whenever you looked at him, ha ha, no offense, so I added one plus one, ya know?" I'm not sure I like this guy, so I ask, "You look up to Rob even though you're a tad homophobic, huh?" He laughs and puts his arm across my shoulders to jostle me, saying, "Don't get your panties in a knot, Dylan, I'm gay too." I'm like, "No shit?" and he's like, "Yeah, that's one of the things Rob and I talked about. I confided in him because he was the only teammate who treated me like an equal even though I wasn't an active player." I say, "That, plus you knew he was gay." He chuckles, "Well yeah, that had something to do with me having the balls to tell him about my gayness." I go, "Huh! So the team knows you're gay and they don't care; is that it?" He chuckles, "Um, not exactly. Only Rob, and now you, know I'm gay. You're the only two students at Merrimack who know as far as that goes. I'm not as brave about it as you two." Huh, interesting. Wanting to talk to him some more, I ask, "Do you feel like a cup of coffee or something at the Quad? I'm just waiting for a text from Rob that he's done throwing the ball around." He nods, "Yeah, I could go for a beverage," and we start walking towards the Quad as I ask, "How come you're not joining the informal practice that's taking place right now?" and he goes, "I'm afraid of some freak accident happening to me again. I'll go full tilt when the coaches start running mandatory fall practices on Monday." Approaching the Quad, Lawyer says, "Um, you're trustworthy, right, Dylan? My secret is safe with you." I nod, "I might be the best secret-keeper you'll ever meet. Your secret is totally safe with me." He goes, "I figured that's the case since you're Rob's boyfriend and he kept my secret. Um, he never said anything about me to you?" I go, "Don't take this the wrong way, Lawyer, but until I met you in the Quad the other day I didn't even know you existed. Robby never said a word about you to me." Right inside the Quad's front door Lawyer stops to talk to two guys who are on their way out. I keep going to avoid introductions, plus neither of the guys was the least bit attractive. When I'm in line for coffee, Lawyer walks over asking, "Would you get me a coffee with cream and sugar?" I nod and he hands me two dollars then sits at an empty table for two. There are tables for two, four, and six, then long communal tables that can seat fourteen. Officially the Quad is the central outdoor area of the college, but we refer to the multi-purpose building that's here as the 'Quad'. I suppose it's different for each university, but this building's second floor is a wide open space with areas for cold lunches and snack foods, TV viewing, a partitioned-off quiet room for studying, plus a game room with a couple of pool tables and computer games one can waste money playing. There are always a lot of students in here. When I set Lawyer's paper cup of coffee in front of him I return his two dollars, saying, "My treat." He goes, "Thanks, Dude. My turn next time." I have a piece of apple pie with my coffee and it makes me think of the delicious desserts Mrs. Wilcox used to buy at that gourmet bakery in downtown Marietta. There are some things about Georgia I still miss, and those desserts plus Ryan's mother's cooking are two of them. As I'm putting a forkful of pie in my mouth, Lawyer says, "That looks good," so I offer, "Ya want some?" He grins nodding his head and I fork off a piece of pie and pass him the fork. He eats the pie dragging his lips along the tines of the fork. Watching him do that makes my dick move in my pants. Sexy pink lips on Lawyer. He swallows and grins, murmuring, "Yum," as he passes the fork back to me. When he grins his white teeth glisten in his pink mouth and it all contrasts sexily with his milk chocolate-colored skin. I stare at him for a second too long again, and again he gives me his eyebrow raised questioning expression. It makes me blush and look down. He goes, "You ever have a black boyfriend, Dylan?" I shake my head and do a fake cough, then mumble, "Never had the pleasure." Nodding his head, he grins at me again as I gulp down a piece of pie. Swallowing, I ask, "Want another taste?" He goes, "Sure," and I pass him another forkful of pie, but this time I don't watch him eat it. Damn! I just might spring a boner. We finish the pie by passing the fork back and forth, then I ask, "Do you have a boyfriend, um, currently?" and he says, "Nope. Not currently or ever. I'm a virgin in that regard, although not in the other." I'm like, "Oh, you've had sex with a girl then?" He says, "With two girls; one in my freshman year and one sophomore year. We went out for like four months before breaking up. I was on a mission trying to prove to myself I'm not gay." I ask, "Did it work?" and he laughs, "Nope!" I go, "Well, if you insist on being in the closet your chances of connecting with another available gay guy are kinda limited." He says, "I know, but like I said, I'm not confident enough to come 'out'. Rob was the first guy I've ever been able to work up the nerve to 'out' myself to, and now you're the second." I grin, "Progress, Lawyer, but you must know by now that hardly anybody would care that you're gay." Ignoring that bit of logic, he asks, "Have you ever, um, been with a virgin. Sexually I mean, and I'm not coming on to you, I'm just curious." Then, before I can come up with an appropriate answer, and maybe even be truthful about it, telling him, at least a half dozen times or so, he goes, "I mean, you're so fucking good looking I assume you've had any number of opportunities to be with a virgin boy in high school." I'm like, "Yes, I've been humbled and honored to be asked to do it with a virgin or two." He looks serious, saying, "That's so, um, nice of you. The way you put that was really nice." Feeling awkward I shrug, and mumble, "Thanks.. it was, I don't know, a privilege... or something like that." We're kind of at a stalemate as to where to take the conversation from here. I'd love to do it with him obviously, but Lawyer knows that Rob and I are boyfriends and he might think less of me, and maybe somehow less of Robby too if I suggested doing something with him. After a minute, that seemed much longer, Lawyer goes, "Well, shall we get another piece of pie?" I chuckle, "Your turn to buy." He gets up and pats my shoulder, saying, "I really like you, Dylan. Rob's lucky." I do a fake cough and he goes, "I know they're fake, by the way. Your coughs I mean," and we both snort out a laugh with me saying, "Bullshit! They're not fake." He goes, "Shall we try cherry pie this time?" I go, "Yeah, let's be daring." As he walks over to get in line I'm like... holy shit, I'm sweating and my dick's feeling funny. 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