Date: Mon, 3 Oct 2016 21:33:15 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter 9

DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE


Chapter 9


by  Donny Mumford


Lawyer  and I are having coffees in the Quad. I bought a slice of  apple
pie with my first coffee and we shared the slice of pie  alternating bites,
passing the fork back and forth. It was kind of a  turn-on watching Lawyer
slide the fork out between his sexy  lips. The apple pie was such a hit we're
following it up with a slice of  cherry pie, and it's Lawyer's turn to buy.

All smiles and smirks, he's  just set the paper plate with a slice of cherry
pie down in front of  him. I'm swallowing the last of my coffee watching him
cut the  point off the slice of pie, hold it up so I can see the gooey
cherry  center, then he puts it in his mouth. Now that I know he's gay I  don't
feel self-conscious staring at him as he exaggerates chewing the forkful  of
pie, then swallows and says, "Yum."  Cutting off a  second portion of pie
he passes the forkful of pie to me. I examine it for  a second; then, looking
Lawyer in the eyes, I put the pie in my  mouth and imitate him by slowly
drawing the fork out between my lips  leaving the tines without a trace of the
pie's cherry  filling. He chuckles and we eat the whole piece of pie like
that without  speaking. As we're doing that I'm thinking how odd it is that
Lawyer's a  gay virgin, but not a hetero-virgin. He's had sex with two
different girls saying his motivation for doing it was to prove to himself  he
wasn't gay. Ironically it proved that he was. He needed  to picture in his
head some guy he had a crush on at the time before  he was able to perform his
male duties during the sex act. Same thing was  necessary the second time he
tried heterosexual intercourse, and so that  was that...

Done  our second slice of pie we get up and dump the paper plates and cups
in the  trash, then walking down the steps as he mumbles, "That was as
random as it  gets," and I go, "For me the best part was sharing the fork with
you." He laughs  hugging my shoulders, then says, "You're a sexy motherfucker,
ain't ya?"  Grinning, I check my wristwatch and see it's almost five
o'clock. Lawyer sees me  checking the time, and asks, "Do you need to pick up Rob
now?" I shake my  head, "Nah, he'll text me when he ready to go, but I'm
surprised how late it  is." He says, "Uh huh, time flies. Um, since you have
the time, c'mon to my dorm  and, um... oh, never mind." I'm like, "What were you
going to say, bro?"  and he goes, "I practiced saying it in my head, but
it's much  harder saying it out loud." I go, "Oh, so what now? Am I  expected
to  guess what you were going to say?" He laughs, "Yeah, do you think you
can  guess?" I shrug and do an elaborate fake cough, muttering, "Fuckin'
cigarettes,"  making us both snort out a laugh. He knows my fake coughs
are, um... fake.

I'm  like, "Were you going to suggest we go to your dorm and watch TV?" He
snickers,  "No, we don't have a TV. My roommate was supposed to bring one
from his bedroom,  but when the time came to do that he couldn't be
bothered." I mumble, "Fuckin' roommates, huh?" Another laugh from Lawyer and, as
were walking in the general direction of dormitory-row, he asks, "Any more
guesses what I wanted to ask you, but chickened-out?" Obviously it has
something  to do with gay sex, but I fake ignorance, mumbling, "Oh, you just gave me
a  clue. It was going to be a question, huh?" He nods his head, grinning,
"Uh huh."  My second joking-guess, "Um, were you going to ask me something
about  an Xbox?" and he goes, "Well, we do have an Xbox in the dorm. That's
not what I was gonna ask about though." I name a couple of other silly things
 and he finally says, "You're not too good at guessing what someone wants
to ask  you, are you?" I shake my head, mumbling, "No, I blow at guessing
games." He  chuckles, then says, "It's nothing major. It involves a common
practice us human  beings do routinely." He turns to go down a row of dormitory
buildings, so I  follow him, asking, "Do you think you could tell me what
that is?" and he bumps  shoulders with me, saying, "It has to do with me never
kissing another guy.  Um, and I'd like to do that with you. Kiss with a
guy; you being the  aforementioned, um, guy." I say, "Well aren't you a hot
shit! Yeah,  okay, let's do  that. "He nods his head a few times, saying, "Yes!
I got it out! I'm so proud of  myself." Lawyer does not seem like a kid
from the hood, so I ask, "Where you  from, Lawyer." He says, "New York City,"
and I'm like, "Let me guess, your dad's  a lawyer." He laughs, "No, you
guessed wrong again. It's my mom who's the  lawyer. My dad's a doctor and when I
was born they flipped a coin to come  up with my name. I could have been
Doctor Ross, if tails had come up." I go, "No  shit?" He nods, "Yep, guess who
my favorite NFL player was when I was a kid." I  go, "Lawyer Malloy?" and
he's like, "How'd you guess?"

We  stop in front of a dormitory, one of the older brick ones, and he says,
"As you  might imagine I feel like a total dork asking you to let me kiss
you, but you  said you were awesome at keeping secrets and we did share that
fork eating  pie, so who better than you to have my first gay kiss with.

And, in case you're  wondering, I'm so nervous and excited about it I think
I've already peed my  pants, but I'm afraid to look." I look at his crotch,
then say, "You're parents  will be so proud of you, Lawyer, you haven't pissed
your pants yet." He laughs,  but he definitely does seem nervous. He's
fidgety, moving his feet in place, his  hands going in and out of the front
pockets of his sweatshirt, as he says, "My  parents won't be hearing about this
for a number of years. I've yet to set a  date in my mind for telling them
their only son is gay." I nod, "Uh huh,  um, do you want to do the kiss right
here, or...?" He goes, "Oh, fuck no! Inside,  behind closed doors with the
shades down." I go, "To be really safe maybe  we should do the kiss in the
closet." He laughs again mumbling, "Good idea,"  then, "Oh fuck, let's go
inside before I punk-out again."

His room is on the first floor and it's a mess. I look around seeing
clothes and towels laying on the floor along with fast food wrappers and
unidentified reading materials, along with an open suitcase and candy wrappers.  I
mutter, "How'd you and your roommate manage to fuck-up this room so  badly
in only three days?" He glances around, and goes, "Yeah, neither  of us is
especially neat," and he starts picking stuff up off the floor and  throwing
it in a corner, mumbling, "I'll straighten this stuff out later." I  watch
for a minute, then say, "Um, don't clean-up on my account, Lawyer." He  stops
and grins at me, saying, "I was just kidding about the kiss." Nodding my
head, I go, "Okay, you wanted me to see your room then, is that it?" He takes
his hat off and tosses it on the desktop disturbing the many CD cases among
 the other clutter on the desk top. Rubbing his nose he goes, "No, I lied
again, I do want that kiss, but first I gotta take a piss so I don't pee
myself  during the kiss." I'm like, "Good idea. I need to take a piss too;
coffee  ya know? It goes right through me."

We walk  down the corridor toward the lavatory passing a couple of
shirtless guys drinking bottles of beer while leaning up against the wall  and
arguing about which quarterback is the greatest of all time. One kid  giggles,
then slurs, "It's  Joe  Brady," and the other says, "No, the GOAT has gotta
be Tom Montana. And the  fact you never saw him play doesn't mean shit." I
smell weed too which  accounts for the giggling, and for them getting the
first names of the  quarterbacks mixed-up. Lawyer laughs at them as we go into
the lavatory, then he  asks me, "Who do you think's the greatest quarterback
is?" I go, "Tom  Brady, obviously. Both Brady and Montana have four
SuperBowl wins, so  it's close, but I give the nod to Tom because Montana had an
advantage  winning his rings before the salary cap era." He goes, "Yeah and
Brady got to  six Superbowl games compared  to Joe's four." Standing at
urinals, with two urinals between us, Lawyer  adds, "Didn't Terry Bradshaw have
four SuperBowl rings  too?" I go, "Uh huh, but he couldn't spell SuperBowl if
you  gave him the 'S' and the 'B', so disregard him." Lawyer laughs; he's
always  laughing. Washing our hands at the sinks he looks around, then
whispers,  "Seriously, will you do the kiss with me?"  I mumble, "Well, do I need to
 kiss back?" he laughs, "Of course! You've got the experience,
motherfucker!  Don't break my balls." I go, "Well, since you put it that way, okay.

Shall we do  it here?" He shakes his head, muttering, 'What a prick! No, not
here! In my dorm  room's closet, like you suggested."

As we  pass the two pot heads in the hall on our way back to the room, I
tell  them, "Don't forget Terry Bradshaw," and for some reason they both
giggle  at that. We're almost to Lawyer's room when I hear one of the guys say to
the  other, "Isn't Bradshaw the goofy looking fuck on the FOX pre-game
show?"  The other guy says, "Yeah, I think he is. The one wearing the clown wig,
right?"  Lawyer and I chuckle at that as we go into his room. The door
closes and I say,  "Okay, lets do  this!" and put my hand on the back of his
neck. He nods his head, licks his lips  and leans toward me as I lean towards
him. Our lips meet and we do a nice  closed-mouth two-second kiss. He says,
"It's just like kissing a girl," and I  go, "Duh! Lips are lips, although
your's yours are sexier than most." He grins,  "Was that a partially hidden
stereotypical racial remark?" I say,  "Nope, just a fact. Lets try  it for real
this time," and we do. This time my fingers are in the hair on  the back of
his head. His hair is longish and kinky but very soft. Our  mouths open
slightly and our tongues slide together. Neither of us gets carried  away, but
it gets my dick waking-up and squirming around a little in  my jockey
shorts. Lawyer steps back nodding his head, quietly saying, "Thanks,  that was
cool and, dude, you smell good too." I go, "One more time," and he's  okay with
that. This time he wraps his arms around me and gives me a big tight  hug.

It's a sexy and slightly sloppy five or six second kiss with his tongue
primarily in my mouth. A really hot kiss and my dick firms-up nicely before we
end it. Our lips make a wet-smacking sound when we part and he laughs,
saying,  "That gave me a boner. Oh man, that was so hot!" I nod my head, "Yeah,
you gave  me a boner too. So now you've shared a kiss with another guy and
you can move on  from there." He rubs his face, then looks at me and serious
ly asks, "You're not  telling anyone we kissed, right? Not even Rob." I hold
up three fingers like a  Boy Scout, "Scouts honor," and he goes, "I'm
serious." I say, "So am I,  Lawyer. I respect your privacy, your secret is safe
with me." He relaxes and  grins, "Thanks, I totally believe you."

He seems quite pleased with himself, so I tell him, "Ya know, gay kissing
isn't usually how your typical novice gay guy starts out. In fact some gay
guys wouldn't think of kissing even though they do oral sex and anal
intercourse." He frowns, asking, "Why's that?" I shrug, "I'm not sure. Maybe  they
think kissing a guy is too queer." He says, "That's weird." I hold my hands
 out, palms up, like, 'What'll we do now?' He goes, "Oh man, that's it for
me  today. That kissing was a major first step for me." I think he's serious
so I  nod, like I'm serious too. For something to say, I go, "Well, I
usually  like a cigarette after sex, so would you join me outside?" He laughs,
"Hey,  don't make fun of me, man. That kiss was a huge step forward for me."

As we're  leaving the room he's got his arm across my shoulders, saying,
"This could be  the start of a whole new life for me." I say, "Yeah, assuming
you can find  another gay guy who's willing to share a kiss with you." He
laughs, "Yeah, well  you know what I meant. This was a big hurtle for me to
overcome." Outside  again, I light a Marlboro trying to imagine myself at
twenty-two, like  Lawyer, just having my first intimate contact with another guy,
even though  I'd known for a few years that I'm gay. Of course, I was
seventeen before I  even found out I was gay, so I suppose that's equally
hard to believe.

Sitting  on the dormitory steps with Lawyer, I exhale a stream of smoke,
asking him, "Did  you ever smoke cigarettes, say in high school?" He shakes
his head, "Nope, never  cigarettes. I went through a phase as a freshman here
at  Merrimack where I was smoking too much dope, but gave that up after a
couple of weeks. I'll drink a beer now and then, and maybe get drunk now  and
again too, so I'm not perfect," and he laughs, then says, "You wanna get
drunk with me sometime, Dylan?" I'm like, "Sure, do you ever go to  Tracy's?"

He mumbles, "Yeah, but not recently." I shrug and say, "Ya  know, I overdid
the pot thing too and I told myself never again, but then  just recently I
relapsed and had a really bad experience with it.  Learned my lesson a
second time." He goes, "I hear ya. Hey, someone told me  Tracy built a bar next
to the outdoor speak easy." I nod, "Yeah,  it's cool.  It's not next to the
speakeasy though, it's part of it," then my cellphone  beeps. It's Robby
saying he's ready to go. Nodding at my cellphone, I tell  Lawyer, "Text from
Rob," and I stand up, adding, "I gotta go, but that  was an awesome kiss, my
man." He stands too and we bump fists as he says, "Maybe  you'll help me with
my next gay move." I nod, grinning, "Count on me anytime,  Lawyer." We walk
down the last three steps as he asks, "Aren't you afraid Rob  will find out
you're cheating on him?" I go, "No, because I'm not cheating on  him. We
have an agreement, an arrangement, where we allow each other a  little buddy
sex on the side occasionally. It's not something a lot of  boyfriends could
pull off perhaps, but it works for us. Anyway, what you and I  do stays
private between you and me. You'd have to tell someone we  kissed, or whatever,
because I never will." He pats my back, "Thanks,  Dylan. Don't be a stranger,
man." I wave my hand and walk towards the parking  lot where Robby's pickup
is parked.

As  I'm sauntering past dormitories I grin to myself  because my encounter
with Lawyer was so completely unexpected, and like he  said, random. Damn, I
like that guy. He's a cool, likable  gay guy. Kind of hard for me to
believe he's a virgin considering how good  looking he is, and he's got an awesome
personality too. Being  realistic, I imagine it's not all that unusual for
a twenty-two year  old closeted gay guy to be a virgin. I've been lucky to
encounter way more  then my share of gay sex buddies. Historically though
it's the  twenty-something year old gay virgin guys who were lucky in the
eighties. I  mean, that's when the horror of AIDS first broke out and no one knew
what  the fuck was going on. Living during that time as a gay must have
been a  horrific nightmare. If someone as promiscuous as me was born forty-five
or  fifty years ago they'd be dead before their thirtieth birthday... or
sooner.  Man, that makes me so sad.

Taking  a deep breath, I'm like, WHOA! Dude, think about something else!
Nature can  be such a bitch. Walking slowly, smelling the back of my hand, I
start counting my blessings and there are so many of them my eyes water.

Then, a more pleasant thought as Dougie Hamilton's face flashes past my brain.

 It's probably because I'm smelling the back of my hand. I snort out a
chuckle realizing I got this back-of-my-hand habit from Dougie. I need to look
him up and see how he's doing. I haven't run into him so far this year, but
why  should that surprise me? I mean, there are more than five thousand
students enrolled  at Merrimack. Jesus, just imagine the campus on larger big
name  universities where thirty thousand students are enrolled. Hell, if I
don't run  into guys from my freshman and junior years here, what would it be
like with  five or six times the number of students? So many guys, and yet
so relatively  few of them are gay, never mind exceptionally good looking.

Speaking  of good looking, I'm glancing around hoping to get another look at
Hoodie  Boy. He's no where nowhere to be seen though, and I still haven't
got a close  enough look at him to know if he even qualifies as exceptionally
good  looking.. Then, sucking on my lips, I'm like, 'Damn, that was a good
kiss  with Lawyer'.

There's Rob's pickup, exactly where we left it. I drive it  to the baseball
complex and see Robby with Frankie and Beth  standing outside the entrance.

Goddammit, those girls are like gum on Robby's  sneaker, and both girls are
wearing our baseball caps. Jesus, that's a pain  in the ass! No Golden in
sight, so maybe Robby wants me and Beth to  double date with him and Frankie...

not! Those girls are seriously beginning  to get on my nerves. I'm sitting
in the idling truck watching  them walk over to me with the girl's showing
big  mischievous smiles. How can they always seem so happy? Robby's not
showing a big smile though. His facial expression is more like, 'I have  nothing
to do with this!'  Whatever this might  be. The girls, in their usual
bubbly manner, say at the same  time, "We're taking you and Rob out to dinner
tonight, Dylan. It's to thank  you for having us over your place for dinner
last night. It'll totally be  our treat!" I'm like, "Oh, that's not necessary."

Shit, and I thought I was  being sarcastic a minute ago thinking we'd be on
a double date. Robby says,  "Isn't that nice of the girls, Dylan?" I go,
"Ha, yeah," nodding my  head.

Well  I suppose it is generous of them. Beth opens the passenger door and
gets in  sliding over on the bench seat right next to me, saying, "You're my
date since  Golden is busy tonight." I go, "Oh, huh, um.." and she adds,
"Would you be  good enough to drop Frankie and me off at our dorm, and then you
boys  can shower and make yourselves gorgeous." I'm like, "Ha, yeah, I
guess."  She says, "Frankie and I are taking you two hunks to Bertucci's." I go,
 "Huh, that's very nice of you."  Frankie's getting in the front seat too,
so I go, "There's a back seat," and she  says, "That's no fun," then steps
aside, looking at Robby, "You should get in first Robert, and I'll sit on
your lap." Robert? Robby says, "No, get in the back," and Frankie pulls on
his  arm, "This'll be fun!" Robby gets in frowning and shrugging, without
making eye  contact with me as I glare at him. Fact is we don't know how to
handle these  girls. Frankie climbs up on Robby's lap and closes the door. I
mutter, "Where's  your dorm?" I suppose I may have said that in a less than
enthusiastic  manner because Beth says, "Don't be grumpy, Dylan," then she
directs me to  their dormitory with Frankie telling us, "Bertucci's usually
puts out  very good food. Get this though; Beth and I ate at a small
restaurant in Boston. I think it was on Tremont Street; this was last summer.  Anyway
the food tasted kind of funny. Only later did we learn that the chef  used
to be a clown in the circus, so that explains the funny food." Frankie
laughs as Robby mutters, "That's a terrible joke," and I mumble, "Clowns  aren't
funny in the first place." Frankie ignores  my negativity and says, "A man
walks into a bar with a grilled  cheese sandwich in his armpit. He says to
the bartender, 'Give me a draft beer  and one for my grilled cheese sandwich
too.' The bartender says, "Sorry,  pal, but we don't serve food in here."

Robby snorts a laugh, and  then during the three minutes it takes me to drive
them to their dorm the  girls tells three more corny short jokes like that
last one. Ya gotta chuckle at  how terrible the jokes are and how persistent
the girls are at taking  turns telling bad jokes one after the other..

At  their dorm Frankie gets off Robby's lap, then he gets out, and finally
Beth gets  out, asking, "What time are you picking us up?" Robby looks at
me, then says,  "Seven o'clock?" like it's a question. Frankie gives him a
kiss near his  mouth, saying, "Seven is perfect." Robby's getting back in the
pickup as I  mumble to the girls, "Um, you two do recall us mentioning we're
gay,  right?" Frankie waves her hand at me, "Yes, of course. See you boys at
seven."  Under his breath, Robby say, "Just drive the fuck away, Dylan." As
I  do that, he asks sarcastically, "Weren't you the one who said we'd be
more, um,  rounded I believe it was, with some girls as friends?" I'm like,
"Couldn't you  tell them we had plans for tonight?" and he goes, "I get tongue
tied with those  two. Anyway, fuck it, why turn down a free dinner at
Bertucci's?" I mumble,  "Guess you're right. We don't have many of those." I get
the green light  and go right across route 114 with no sweat. As I'm driving
around to building,  Robby says, "They're kind of fun though, don't ya
think?" I shrug, "Yeah, I  suppose. It's hard getting used to girls who act like
guys. Well, not act  like guys exactly, but they're not like most girls."

Robby goes,  "We haven't had a ton of experience with most girls obviously,
but  why not think of Frankie and Beth as friends, and leave it at that." For
 once I find a parking spot halfway down the line of cars, and back the
pickup into it. Robby goes, "Nicely done, Dylan." Ha! Another compliment! I
love compliments from him.

Going  up the steps to our floor, I'm like, "Yeah, but do those two girls
qualify as  friends, I mean... already?" Robby says, "I like them okay, don't
you?"  Shrugging, I say, "Yeah, I guess I do, but it's something very new
so I'm  not sure yet." Walking into our apartment, Robby grabs hold of  me,
and goes, "This isn't new though," and he hugs me from behind. As  the front
door closes I turn around face to face with him and we do a  really nice
kiss making me think of the earlier kiss with Lawyer,  and wishing I could tell
Rob about it. He'd think it was kinda cute. Thoughts of  Lawyer don't last
long in my brain though as Robby's lips and tongue almost  immediately have
me thinking of only him. With our faces together we both drop  our pants
right here in the living room. Our pants around our ankles,  we hug and
make-out as our hardening cocks rub together. I'm soon  murmuring, "Mmmm, oooh,
mmm, Robby." Having dinner with the girls is completely  forgotten now that
Robby and I are alone and horny for each other. He gasps as  our lips part,
then he murmurs, "Turn around, babe." I do as  I'm told, and bend forward
grabbing my knees, looking back at Robby's  hard fat cock. The head pokes my
tight anus and begins spreading the  lips.

With  his hands resting on the small of my back, Robby humps the head of
his cock  inside me. It tightly passes my sphincter muscle as my back arches,
and I go, "Ooh!" Bending forward, Robby gets both arms around my stomach,
his  chest resting on my back, as he slowly pulls me backwards onto his
boner. His fat hard organ stretching my anus while spreading the walls  of my
rectum. Anus nerve-endings light-up and send mixed signals at first; does  it
hurt or feel good? For me the good nerve-ending win out quickly and make  me
shudder with pleasure. Then the fat hard head of Robby's boner, sliding
over  my prostate makes me moan again, "Mmm, ooh," everything feels so good. My
 walnut sized prostate gland sizzles with pleasure sensations like nothing
else I've ever felt. It's always, every time, a thrill for me to
experience Robby's cock up my ass. When all of his four-plus fat inches of  boner are
inside me Robby humps against my buttocks a few times while rubbing  his
hands up and down my back, murmuring, "Feel good, Dylan?" I murmur, "Mmmm,  uh
huh, really good, Rob."

He  lets my rectum adjust for a bit, then pulls his throbbing cock back,
waits  a second, then slides it forward again. "Mmmm, oooh," as my shoulders
do their normal shuddering and I inhale deeply with a warm loving feeling
in my heart for Robby. Oh my God, all the pleasure he provides  me! It's so
intimate sharing our bodies for sexual pleasure with our  true love of a
lifetime shimmering all around us. Bottoming for  Robby always makes me feel
submissive, and it  doesn't matter if he's acting dominant or not. Perhaps
there could be  circumstances where the 'bottom' sex partner is the dominant
one, but  it never feels like that to me. Having a guy's hard cock up my ass
always  makes me feel submissive to him, which just adds to the pleasure  of
anal sex. There  isn't anything in the world more pleasurable for me than
being penetrated by a  'top's' hard cock, except of course the final amazing
orgasm that  follows. So, oh yeah, the feeling of that boner inside me moving
back and forth is erotically pleasurable to such a degree it's hard to
imagine what could be better; except, like I said, the  orgasmic climax. Anal
sex is always a thrill for me, but doing it with  Robby is the highlight of
my life.

Three,  then four minutes of slow penetrations with both of us experiencing
the  sexual pleasure of it all, as we both moan softly. Then, as his
orgasm builds and builds, Robby's hips begin moving faster.  We both get greedy
and want that final explosive climax of sheer  animalistic pleasure. He
thrusts faster yet, taking us into the slapping  phase of two males fucking; his
crotch slapping rhythmically against  my ass cheeks, "Slap, slap, slap,
slap." He humps his boner inside me  even faster now and it's almost a desperate
reckless rush to climax...  we're both way past the point of no return.

"Slapslapslap," sounds  continue as he hammers his cock up my ass, and from me,
"Oh, ooh, ooh,  OOH!' and I squeal with my body tight, my hips humping, and
creamy youthful semen streaming up then  pouring out of my super sensitized
hard cock. Streaks of semen, one after  the other, two then three sizzle
from my boner as I tightly close my  eyes absorbing as much of the thrilling
pleasure as I can. Then,  stroking my cock tightly brings out a short drool of
goo leaving  me gasping and shaking even as I feel warmth and wetness
inside me now. Robby  grunts, humping against my buttocks shooting his load up my
ass. Like me, mere  seconds earlier, Robby's climax reached it's peak and
exploded  with all the sensations of orgasm spreading over his body. Rasping
breathing now  as he thrusts his cock a few more times in my ass sliding in
his own  warm gooey spunk. Our hearts beat fast as we take gulping deep
breaths, and when he steps back pulling his cock from my ass, I feel  so empty
back there I whine, "No, ooh." Robby gasps, then slides his  slippery hard
boner back up inside me and we both sigh, "Ahhh." Another  two minutes or so
of lazily thrusting his firm cock inside me, my body  limply flopping
forward and back until Robby pulls his cock out again  and mumbles, "That felt so
fucking good. Jesus, I needed that..." His cum  is running out of my ass,
down and around to the back of my scrotum. I  take another deep breath, then
straighten up sighing and feeling fine.  Robby hugs me, "Ya okay, babe?" I
mutter, "Oh yeah, that was so good,  Rob."

He  gives me a wet kiss, then says, "Let's shower together. I like the feel
of  your awesome body, slippery with bath gel. Squeezing your perfect ass
is fun too, and maybe a few wet slaps as well." His arm goes around the
back of my neck as he mutters, "I don't know, I just might need to do you
again in the shower." I nod my head, grinning, and saying, "How  romantic,  Rob.

You have a gift for words." He grins, pulling the side of my face  against
his, saying, "Gift for words, my ass." Oh my God, I'm feeling  so good, so
happy and so lucky to be Robby's boyfriend. I  enthusiastically say, "And
don't forget me sucking my man's cock, Rob."  Hugging me, he kisses again,
swaying us side to side a little. Then both of  us are stepping out of our pants
that have been around our ankles from the  start. I gather our clothes up
off the floor and  carry everything into the bedroom with Robby asking,
"Don't you think  our sex is getting better all the time?" I go, "It's hard to
believe it could be  any better. Sex with you is so special that I can't
really describe it, but  you're definitely right about it getting better every
time we do it.  We probably should do it more often though, don'cha think?"

and he laughs and  rubs my head, "I love you, Dylan Newman." He puts an arm
around my waist and  gives a squeeze, adding, "You make me feel awesome,
babe."

Standing  naked in the bathroom Robby's wiping his cum off my ass as we
decide  postponing the shower. Instead we pull on sweat pants and t-shirts,
then take turns ironing khaki pants and button-up-the-front shirts as we  goof
on each other about dressing-up for our 'dates'. While he irons I take
thirty seconds to clean up my cum streaks off the hardwood floor in  the living
room. After ironing, I'm putting the ironing board away with Robby
grinning at me, saying, "You know, babe, me being head of the household and all
that, um, you should probably be doing all the ironing from now on. Whaddaya
think?" I say, "You're kidding, but they'll come a time after we're married
and  have a little rug rat running around and I will be doing all that kind
of  stuff." He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls it a little, murmuring,
"That  picture you've just described gives me a hard on, babe," and he
kisses me,  adding, "You're so awesome! Not everyone is confident enough about
themselves to accept the role of stay at home dad; certainly not as readily
as  you, and I love you all the more for it." I lean against him, murmuring,
"We  both can't be head of the household, and you'll be a much better one
than I  could be."

lt.'s only six o'clock so we have time for a  beer and a cigarette on the
balcony before getting dressed for our phony  'dates'. Every day it gets
cooler outside so I put my new hoodie sweatshirt on  over the t-shirt, and
Robby goes, "Would it piss you off if I bought that exact hoodie for myself? I
really like it." I shrug, "Nah, and anyway, you've already copied  my
haircut so you might as well dress like me too." He goes, "The Bobbsey  Twins ride
again, right?" I nod, grinning at him, and loving him so much it  almost
hurts. Then I say, "Chubby used to buy the same clothes as me. It  just shows
you two guys have good taste." He laughs, and goes, "Yeah,  well you have
good taste in clothes and, I might add, in boyfriends too." I  give the back
of his neck a squeeze. Ah, love is so sweet! We get sappy,  and overdo  it
something terrible occasionally, but  only when it's just the two of us; we're
 aware our sappiness could easily cause an innocent bystander  to hurl his
guts up.

We  eventually do take a shower together. After we've shampooed and  washed
one another; then, with the shower water still flowing  down on us, I suck
his cock until it's really, really hard. As always  happens, I get a hard
boner myself in the process. Robby's grunting  and moaning, rubbing my head
and he almost climaxes in my mouth, but  at the last second changes his mind
and pulls away, saying, "I want to feel my  hard dick inside you again." I'm
swishing his precum around in my mouth as we do  it standing this time. My
back against his chest, Robby's arm goes around  the front of my neck pulling
my head back to his shoulder. He gives my ass a  hard fucking, grunting
with each dominant thrust up my ass. Oh  fuck, it's sensational and eventually
my climax blows out even  hotter then the first one an hour or so ago. We've
been in a sexual  zone since arriving at Merrimack, a hot sexy zone that
probably  can't last all year, but we're running with it for now. Perhaps
we're  making up for lost opportunities last summer when Robby had to work  late
after I got back from Georgia.  Whatever, this latest shower orgasm was so
intense it felt almost like I had  a stroke or something. Every nerve ending
in my body  erupted simultaneously with intense pleasure and my vision
blacked out momentarily. What a fantastic orgasm! The way Robby was a little
rough about it, pulling my head back onto his shoulder, and the talk of him
being head of the household got me hot and squirmy to start with; it's the
perfect vision I have for Robby and me. I think it's his perfect vision as
well.  He climaxed thirty seconds after I did, almost lifting me off my toes
humping against my ass while blowing another load of spunk up inside me.

Gasping, he lets go of me, then we both, without saying anything, sit down
on the floor of the shower stall breathing hard with the  water pouring down
on us.

After  thirty seconds or so Robby rubs my wet head,  saying, almost
wistfully, "You really like a good hard fucking,  don'cha babe?" I go, "Yep, and
you do it best. Um, you like it too, right Rob?"  He nods, "Oh fuck yeah, it's
really hot. Mostly I like pleasing you  though." That's so sweet I smile at
him, and he goes, "And seriously, thank  you for acquiescing to my vision
of our married life." Oh yeah, sometimes I  forget it's Robby's original
plans for us that I now embrace as my own. I  was a little skeptical about some
aspects of it when he first proposed it,  but I've come around entirely to
his way of thinking, and that's the way it  should be with him the head of
the household. We can't both be the boss, and  he'll be a better one than I
could ever be." I lean over so my shoulder's  against his and he puts his arm
around me, taking another deep breath. I sigh  contentedly and he snorts out
a chuckle, so I look at him with half a grin  on my face, and he says,
"Dylan, sometimes I can hardly believe we're  gonna be together like this
forever. It's mind-blowingly awesome to  think about that and realize how
perfectly we fit together,  how perfectly in tune we are with each other." I lay the
side of my head  against his shoulder, smiling, and feeling insanely happy.

Eventually  Robby hugs my shoulders, mumbling, "We better get out of the
shower, baby, don't  want to be late for our first double date together."

Nodding my head and  standing up with him, I turn off the shower thinking that
even though  we only mentioned married life in passing... mentioned  it only
casually a little while ago, still somehow it makes me  feel we've finally and
wonderfully solidified our roles. Especially when  Robby, almost
off-handedly, acknowledges that he's the head of our  household. It wasn't too long
ago he'd joke about it. Now he's the one  who mentioned it, and that makes me
want to please him so much. I feel like  we're glowing as we dry ourselves
and dressed without talking.  We exchange a few grins, obviously feeling good
about being us.  Life can seem so perfect! At times Robby shows me his
super confident  grin and it gives me goosebumps. I'm trying to think back to
when I first  noticed that particular grin, and it was probably shortly after
I returned  from Georgia. Something changed, something solidified our
relationship. Whatever  it is, it gives me a safe optimistic feeling that
everything is going  to be okay.

As  we're going down the steps to the parking lot on our way to pick up the
 girls, I can't help but think back to earlier days when Chubby would  set
me up with a double date. Usually it'd be with his girlfriend's sister or
her best friend. Maybe Chub was trying to give me the chance to  experience
heterosexual sex, although it never happened. Fact is, from  the first time
that pig, Carl Denton, fucked me I knew I was gay, and  I was fine with being
gay. I also knew right away  I really liked being the 'bottom' during sex,
and being submissive to  my 'top'. I liked it a lot! Nothing's changed since
then, although I've  found sex with almost anyone is better than it was
with fat Carl.  Consequently, whenever I've had the opportunity to be a guy's
first cherry-popping sex partner I've tried my very best to make it  really
good for him because I know how bad Carl made it for me. Then I've  gotta
marvel at my road from fat, pimply Carl Denton to this  dream lover, Rob Dickers
... quite a journey! I'm where I want to be and,  glancing over at Robby, I
feel he's everything I've ever fantasized for a  perfect boyfriend and lover.

He's perfect.

Robby  parks at the curb near the girls' dorm. We see them outside chatting
with  a couple of other girls and when Rob toots the horn they all look
over  at us. As they walk towards us I hop out of the pickup to avoid the
awkwardness Robby experienced earlier with Frankie sitting on his lap. All  four
girls come over to us and Beth wraps her arms around my right arm, like she
 did in the ballpark bleachers. She says to the two unknown girls, "Isn't
he  gorgeous?" I roll my eyes, pulling my arm away as one of her friends asks
me,  "How old were you when you graduated high school? Fifteen or sixteen?"

I frown,  "Whaddaya mean?" and Robby says, "C'mon, get in here." I lead the
way  getting in the back with Beth following me, then Frankie gets in the
shotgun seat. The backseat is narrow and my knees hit the back of Robby's
seat,  so it's not real comfortable but it's only a five minute ride to
Bertucci's. The two un-introduced friends of Frankie and Beth drift off.   Robby
drives away, asking, "How ya doing, ladies?" At the far end of  Merrimack's
campus, near the chapel, Bertucci's is just across the street.  Students can
easily walk there although crossing route 125, and then the  crossover of
route 114; that can be challenging. During the short ride I feel  weird and
out of place sitting next to Beth. It's not that I don't like her  because
she's okay, but this sense of being on a date feels as phony  as it gets. If I
knew these two girls better, and Frankie was sitting back here  with Beth
and I was in her shotgun seat, it would seem more real to me.  Pretending
we're on a date is wrong and I think it's mostly Robby's fault  for allowing
the girls to dictate seating arrangements. After all, they're his  fan club,
not mine.

One  good thing though; I don't need to come up with conversation because I
 couldn't get a word in edgewise anyway. The girls are chatterboxes,
although I'm not paying much attention to what they're chattering about.  Robby
mostly chuckles or mutters, "Uh huh." Up until this year the four  people
going to dinner in this pickup would most likely be Robby, me, Chubby and
probably Ryan. It's no longer a comfortable situation when Robby and Ryan are
involved however, and that's too bad. I don't really know how it got to be
like this although my Georgia trip has to be partially to blame, but it gotta
be  more than that... doesn't it? Frankie turns her head to ask me,  "Dylan,
do you know why most guys give a name to their penis?" I'm like,  "What...?"

and Beth says, "It's because they don't want a total stranger  making all
their decisions for them." Robby laughs and I nod my head grinning,  and
asking, "Ya got any more put-down jokes for guys?" Beth says, "Do you know  why
females aren't usually very good at math?" I shrug, and she says, "It's
because we're suppose to believe  this much," and she holds two fingers about two
inches apart, "Is eight inches."  I go, "Boo!" These girls and their
fucking jokes... Jesus!
Inside  the restaurant we get seated in a booth with Robby and me on one
side and  the girls on the other. I made that happen by stepping in front of
Frankie  before she could sit next to Robby. Okay, this is more like it. A
minute later  an officious middle-aged woman tells us she'll be our waitress
tonight. Huh, she  doesn't seem too happy about it. Maybe she's had bad
experiences with Merrimack  students in the past. Whatever, it's her job, so she
really needs to drop the  pissy attitude. The waitress doesn't introduce
herself like she's  supposed to,  but I see her name tag that indicates she's,
'Pat'. She drops four menus on  the table and says one word, making it a
question, "Drinks?" Frankie says,  snottily, "I'll have a Coke, if it's not too
much trouble." Pat ignores the  sarcasm and scribbles something on a small
pad she's holding, as Beth says,  "A lemonade, please." More scribbling,
then Pat lifts only her  eyes looking at Robby and me. We both order iced tea
and she stalks away.  "What's her problem?" Beth asks, and Frankie says,
"Remember when we waitressed  a couple of summers ago in Falmouth. It was at the
Bays Inn, and we  hated the low tipping teens." Beth goes, "Oh yeah, that's
probably it," and they  tell us waitressing misadventure getting Robby
laughing and me sort of grinning;  just to be polite, ya know.

I'm  glad the girls ordered soft drinks, thus avoiding the need for me to
order a  peer-pressure alcoholic beverage that I don't want. As they
converse, I'm  doing my normal glancing around looking for some eye-candy without
spotting even  one cute guy. Well, ha ha, we're not on the Wildwood boardwalk.

 Then I notice my companions are silently looking at me now, so I assume
someone asked me a question. I go, "What was that?" and Frankie says, "Rob
said  he'd go to Saturday's frat party with us, so how about you, sweetie?"

I'm  frowning, muttering, "Um, I don't care for that 'sweetie' nickname, for
one thing," adding, like Beth said to the waitress, "If you don't  mind."

Robby says, "He'll come with us, won't ya, Dylan." BALLS! I mumble,  "I guess,
um, but what about Golden? I thought Beth..." Hell, I didn't  even know
there was a frat party Saturday night. Beth says, "Golden's busy  Saturday
night." I'm thinking Golden needs to be less busy so he can take Beth  off my
hands. I can't help but wonder why the fuck these girls  don't hustle a couple
of straight guys? I mean, another pretend date  tomorrow night with gay guys
...really? The girls are as bubbly as ever,  choosing I suppose to ignore my
less than  enthusiastic endorsement of Saturday night. Robby either was too
nice  agreeing to go, or perhaps he's enjoying the attention he's getting
from  Frankie. He seems to be having a good time chuckling along with both
girls.  Beth's latest joke involves a large man walking into a bar. He's a big
man, but his head is weirdly the size of a soft ball. When he orders a beer
 the bartender gawks at this guy's little head, asking, 'What's with your
head,  dude?' Softball-head is used to that question and explains how he ran
into  a genie a year ago. Naturally she said he could have one wish and his
wish  was to have sex with the genie. The genie said it's the only wish in
the  world she can't fulfill, so the guy says,  'In that case, how about
giving me a little head?' Okay, that's pretty good  and we snort out laughs.

The  dinner goes by surprisingly quickly and I even laugh at some of the
girl's outlandish observations about... well, about anything  and everything.

Instead of me searching out the few negatives of  hanging out with these two,
I need to give the girls more  credit. Being fair about it, they're pretty
good company. They sure  know how to enjoy  themselves, and they appear to
be having fun hooking up with us gay guys.  When I listen closely to
everything they say, and the way they say it,  I can't detect a single example of
them having fun at Rob's or my expense.  They sincerely appear to be having a
good time, and sincerely appear to be very  fond of Robby. They ignore my
spells of grumpiness, treating it with good humor  instead of acknowledging
that I'm being a spoiled -brat,  pain in the ass. For my part, it's just that
I think hanging out  with guys is more fun. There's usually something about
almost any  guy I'm with that I find attractive; something I admire or enjoy
seeing  or fantasizing about. Frankie is definitely cute and perky, while
Beth is  definitely a sexy girl, but as far as I'm concerned, good for them,
but there's nothing I'm attracted too. Also it'd be better if they wouldn't
pretend we're two couples; Beth and me, Robby and Frankie. I guess that's
my  bottom line because, except for the pretend couples thing,  I like them
okay. They remind me a little bit of  the ex-posse boys' girlfriends in that
they're very nice to me. I guess I  don't know how to adequately explain how
I feel about the girls. Robby's  way more into them than me, but even if he
were heterosexual back in high  school he was too shy then to interact with
the girls, so maybe he's making  up for that now that he's not hardly shy
at all.

True  to their word the girls pay for our dinners. They both give the
bored waitress a credit card so  the bill can be split in half. Robby doesn't
suggest he and I pay our share,  which I'm glad about, although, ha ha, I
can't say I'm surprised. My  boyfriend is tight with a buck at times and,
anyway, the girls asked us  out to dinner... it wasn't our idea. We thank them
and, as we're walking  out, Frankie tells us she wants to go to Tracy's
speakeasy now. Robby has a  nine o'clock class tomorrow morning, and my Friday
class is at nine-thirty.  It's the class Ryan's in with me. Anyway I can tell
Robby would rather get to  bed early tonight, as he looks at me, "What do you
think, Dylan? A couple  of beers at Tracy's?" I force a smile, "Okay." Robby
should have been a  little more in-charge and not put the onus on me to say
'no'. It's the  girls throwing Robby a little off his game. But really,
since the  girls paid for our dinner I feel kinda obligated to spend some time
with them  afterwards. In the back seat with Beth again, I can't help
wondering  how much of a tip the girls left for our piss-poor waitress. I'm not
curious  enough to ask though. Then Robby asks, "What'd you leave as a tip for
 the waitress from hell?" Frankie goes, "I put fifteen percent on my half
of the  bill," and Beth goes, "I did too, although she didn't deserve it." I
guess I'd  have done the same. Tipping is a pain in the ass though.

At  Tracy's there a couple of heaters for the outside deck, which is fairly
 crowded for a Thursday night. Even with the heaters though it's still
feels kind of chilly, so I suggest, "Let's go inside."  Beth points at the sign
next to the door that reads 'Private club: Members  Only' and I go, "No
problem," and get out the membership card  Tracy gave me last weekend. At the
door the big strong, preppy  looking bouncer, Rex, looks at my membership
card raising his  eyebrows, nodding his head at me, like, 'Way to go, dude' ,
then he says,  "Welcome, and there won't be any charge for your guests,
Dylan."  Huh, I guess there's something special about my membership card, and I
can thank Tracy for that. I didn't even pay a membership fee. This free
special membership card isn't just because Tracy and I fuck. He  gave it to me
because we're friends. The buddy sex between us might have been  the
beginning of our friendship, but it's become a true friendship over the past  two
years.

Inside, Robby asks me, "When did you get the membership card?" and I
remind him of me going inside the club when he was talking with a couple of his
teammates last weekend. He goes, "Good move, babe," and he gives me a pat
on my shoulder. It makes me feel good he's finally paying some attention to
me tonight. Frankie says, "That was so cool, Dylan. I feel like we're VIPs
walking in like we did." What the hell, maybe I've been trying too hard to
find negative things about the girls. They've actually been  consistently
very nice to me. If I'm honest about it, I'm  probably jealous of the
attention Rob gives the girls; especially Frankie.  Yeah, there could be some truth
to that and, if so, it's dumb on my part. I  mean, Frankie is frankly no
competition at all where Rob's concerned. It's  an absurd concern when I get
right down to it. The fact is, it  was me who said to Robby that we'd be more
socially rounded having  some girls as friends. Yeah, but for me it
obviously will take some getting  used to, while Robby, on the other hand, isn't
having a problem with that  at all. None that I can detect anyway.

There's maybe  thirty guys and girls inside the club, so now the club
doesn't seem as big  to me as it did with just Tracy and me in here. There's room
for maybe  another twenty-five people but that would be a very crowded
situation. We  get a table for four and a quick glance around tells me there's
no wait-staff  tonight, so I mumble, "What do you guys want to drink? I'll
get a round for  us at the bar." The girls say beer is fine with them, and
Robby just shrugs  like beer is fine with him too, so I go to the bar and buy a
pitcher of Bud  light and ask for four plastic cups. They're plastic, but
heavy plastic  with "Tracy's Speakeasy" imprinted in green script on the
side.  Cool.

The conversation during the first pitcher of beer is  about the professors
we had during freshman and sophomore years. During the  second pitcher of
beer, which Robby buys, we somehow get into a description of  how Robby and I
became boyfriends and what age we were when we knew we were gay.  The girls
seem fascinated by our story even though most of what we tell them is
greatly edited from the truth. I mean, who are they to delve into our lives.

Robby and I exchanged a number of 'looks' as we edit our true story until  it's
almost unrecognizable. It's the first time tonight I've felt Robby and I
were a team. I don't mean us against them... or do I? Instead of team, I
should have said 'felt like we were a couple', and when you get  right down to
it we're the only real couple at this  table. I buy the third pitcher of
beer, and it's consumed while the  girls talk about the boyfriends they've had
over the years with Beth's  confession that none of her boyfriends were
nearly as good looking as Rob or me.  That's one thing I need to admit: the
girls are full of compliments... seemingly  honest and sincere ones. I like
compliments, who doesn't, but for me the  compliments I get from Robby and
Chubby are the only ones I pay much  attention to. I've had many people comment
on my appearance, not that I have  much to do with how I look, so I'm not
blown away with the girls compliments.  Robby appears to be more taken with
compliments the girls pass out to him  though. Heh heh, I know he likes the
idea of having a fan club even though he'd  bite his own tongue off before
admitting it.

There  is no forth pitcher of beer although the girls bitch a little about
that. They  have no classes on Friday so, ya know, they want to make a late
night of it. I  suggested after the second pitcher of beer we should
probably be going, but got  overruled by the girls. Then Robby finally puts his
foot down about  leaving after the third pitcher, and he's adamant about it.

What he says  carries a lot more weight with the girls than what I say. That's
fair  enough though since they didn't put much weight in me being a tad
negative or grumpy earlier tonight. As we're making the short ride back to
their  dorm I kind of worry that the girls will feel a goodnight kiss is in
order.  I definitely don't believe there's any reason for that. If they insist
it'll just make it seem like maybe they actually believe this really  was a
date, when it wasn't. It was four college students having dinner and a few
beers together.

Well,  I worried for nothing because at the dorm we all get out and there's
no  awkwardness at all. Frankie merely says, "You guys are so fucking cool.

Thanks  for having dinner with us and I hope you'll invite us for dinner at
your place  again sometime." Gee, I like the vagueness of that word
'sometime'.  Beth goes, "Dylan, I honestly liked your dinner better than the one I
had at Bertucci's tonight." I go, "Oh, thanks, Beth. We'll do it again
sometime. Heh heh." Then I feel the 'heh heh' was mean spirited, and I  put too
much emphasis on the word 'sometime', so I mumble, "Sometime next week  I
mean. How would that be?" Robby looks at me opening his eyes real wide as
Frankie says, "That's awesome, Dylan. Thanks." She gives me a sisterly hug,
then  the same for Robby, as Beth merely pats my shoulder smiling at me.

Well, okay then.

We  say goodnight and get back in the pickup, but Robby doesn't drive away
immediately. He stares at me with a 'look' on his face, so I go, "What? Oh,
 you mean my oops? I'm sorry about inviting the girls for dinner next week,
 but I felt uncomfortable, and... um.." He says, "Well it took  me by
surprise, babe, especially considering you swore off  inviting people for dinner
just last night. It's okay though. Hell, I would  have invited them myself
except I thought you'd be pissed-off if I did." He  pulls away from the curb,
mumbling, "That's basically why I gave you  that weird look." I shrug,
"They're alright and, dude, they sure like you."  He looks at me grinning, then
says, "You're not worried Frankie will win my  heart, are you?" I make a
'Pfsss' sound, then say, "What? You mean  worried about Frankie stealing you from
me? Not hardly." He grins again,  then says, "Haven't you ever wondered
though, you know, what it feels like  having sex with a girl?" Someone else
asked me that not too long ago and I told  him what I tell Rob, "Not in the
least. I've no interest in finding that out.  Um, not that there's anything
wrong with guys who do." Robby goes, "It's not a  matter of wanting to try it
so much as it's a matter of curiosity." For  some reason Robby saying that
pisses me off, and I'm not sure why. Maybe  because I'd like it better if he
felt the same way I do about sex with a girl  and to hell with curiosity.



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

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

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