Date: Tue, 11 Nov 2014 11:19:02 -0500
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR  Chapter  12

DYLAN'S  SOPHOMORE YEAR


Chapter  12


By  Donny Mumford



Oh man, the first class of the semester really dragged on like forever,
but that's not unusual for early classes in a semester. Until we get in the
swing of things again the classes will seem longer then they actually are. In
 a week or two we'll become acclimated to sitting for an hour listening to
varying topics that we know we'll need to pass if we want to graduate. That
 holds true whether the classes are interesting or not. Maybe we'll even
learn  something too. All I know for sure is this first class is mercifully
over, I  knew it would be over eventually, the eternal  optimist, that's me.
We're walking out of the classroom, Ryan walking next to  Robby, and Rex next
to me. He asks, "Where are you and Rob from, if you don't  mind me asking?"
He has one of those pleasant, soothing voices I enjoy  listening to. It'd
be a good singing voice, um, if he could sing, and what the  hell, maybe he
can. Adjusting my baseball cap for the tenth time today, I tell  him, "We're
from Framingham, right here in Massachusetts. It's about an hour  drive from
Merrimack. How about you?" He says, "Me and Marty, um, do you know  Marty?"
I go, "Ryan's roommate? Yeah, we met." He says, "We're both from
Springfield, Pennsylvania. It's a suburb of Philly. We grew up together from  like
when we were ten years old or something." I go, "Oh, you've known each  other
that long. Wow." He shrugs, "Yeah, wow, ha ha. So you've met Marty, huh?
I'm guessing you probably think he's a little up tight, a little wrapped too
tight perhaps, am I right?" I mutter, "I don't know, um..." Rex goes, "He's
been called, heh heh, a social ignoramus. That's my favorite. A teacher in
high school laid that one on Marty. We still get a laugh outta that, but
Marty's actually okay when you get to know him." I shrug, muttering, "I'm
sure  he is." Rex chuckles, "No, seriously, he's an alright, dude, ha  ha."


The way he say stuff strikes me as funny, so I go, "I fucking believe  you
already!" Glancing at me again, Rex asks me what my next class is and I
tell him. He pulls a little tablet out of his back pocket and checks something
on it, then mutters, "Bummer, I didn't take that one, but I probably should
 have. Names of courses get me all fucked up. Like last year... I took
Physics  1 because I saw the number one and figured it would be easy." He
shrugs, "Nah,  it wasn't easy. Physics, regardless of the number, is gonna be way
too hard to  even attempt. It's like the score: Physic 1 and me  zero." I
grin looking  at him, asking, "What'd ya get for a grade?" He looks down at me
smirking,  "Actually I'm just pulling your chain, Dylan. It wasn't all that
hard, I got  an eighty-nine for my final grade." Grinning, he holds his
thumb and index  finger a half inch apart, saying, "I missed an 'A' by that
much. Of course the  professor hated me, that's why I didn't get the 'A'." The
way he said it makes  me chuckle again. He's funny with that dry wit of his.
He says, "I tried Urban  Studies last year too. Oh fuck, stupid me. Yep, I
thought it would be about  hip hop, wearing your hat brim on the side, and
that kinda shit, but no, it's  actually about where to put buildings in a
city. Fucking game of monopoly, ya  know?" I chuckle again, muttering, "You've
got an endless supply of offbeat  humor, don'cha?" He says, "It's sometimes
a way to start a conversation, or to  fill an awkward spot when talking with
someone who makes you nervous."  Glancing at him, I ask, "I make you
nervous?" "A little, yeah... heh heh.  You're pretty friggin' sexy and it makes me
a tad nervous." I look over at  him, a little questioning frown on my face,
because that was a weird thing to  say. He goes, "No, no, I'm seriously not
coming on to you. Honest to God I'm not.  I know you've got a boyfriend.
Hell, I'd be shocked if you didn't have one."  Okay, maybe it was a harmless
comment, or possibly he was being funny again. I  go, "Oh, yeah, I guess,"
and he says, "Cool boyfriend you got too, Rob I mean.  He's Merrimack's team's
second baseman, right?" I go, "Yeah, but how do  you know all this stuff
about us?" He goes, "Ryan of course. I was curious  about you, so I asked him.
Between you and me, confidentially I think Ryan's  got a thing for me, and
unfortunately I'm just not feeling it for  him."

Well I'm not sure I wanna be in a conversation about Ryan and Rex, so I
just go, "Huh, is that right?" He looks away, then mutters, "That was dumb,
dumb, dumb of me. I shouldn't have said that because he's your friend. No,
he's a good kid from what I can tell, but you must know that, um, some guys
do  it for you and some don't, right? It's no reflection on him, it's
probably my  loss." I say, "Yeah, I see what you're saying. No problem." Rex
shrugs, "Hell,  he emailed me last summer. Well, it was Marty first and then me.
That's  basically all I know about, Ryan. Um, by the way, it's so nice to be
having a  gay-oriented discussion about boyfriends and guys in general. I
only know a  couple of gay guys here and it'll probably stay that way because
I've no  intentions of joining one of those gay/lesbian, and what ever the
fuck else  clubs. How 'bout you?" I shake my head, "No, I'm not much of a
joiner." Rex  mumbles, "Neither is Marty.. a joiner, I mean. He's got a
boyfriend back home,  but Marty's been known to screw around on his boyfriend from
time to time.  He's a little too promiscuous if you ask me, which you
didn't.. heh heh. I'm a  bit of a gossip." Rex should be annoying me, normally
someone blathering on  about other people would annoy me, but he isn't annoying
me because his tone  of voice tells me he's mostly joking around and
pulling my leg a little. He's  entertaining. He's one of those guys who never runs
out of something to say  and he sneaks in some funny shit along the way. He
throws a  lot of stuff  out there, some of which works and some of which
just lay there  flat.


Since he says he's a gossip, I go, "Tell me something, Rex, have you  and
Marty ever, um,  experimented together?" He goes, "Oh yeah we did  once. It
was when we had a science project together in ninth grade. We did  lots of
experimenting trying to create an explosion with various chemicals,  like a
volcano, ya know?"  Huh, that tells me absolutely nothing about  any possible
sexual interest between him and Marty. He smirks at me and  punches my arm
lightly, muttering, "Just pulling your chain again. No, we  don't get it on
sexually, we're just friends. Do you think your friend, Ryan,  might be
interested in doing something with Marty? Sexually I mean. Just  asking." I go,
"Gee, I really wouldn't know, Rex. Is that your full first  name, just Rex,
or is Rex short for something?" He laughs, "You mean like  maybe it should be
Tyrannosaurus Rex? Ha ha, no it's just Rex. I was named  after my dad's
best friend. In Latin Rex means 'king' which might be why it's  a popular name
for dogs. Ya know, here, Rex, come here boy get your doggie  treat. Heh heh.
Yep, I'm Rex Mack Louis. Mack, my middle name, is my mother's  maiden
name." Hmmm, I wonder if he's jerking me around again because Mack is  the name
of Ryan's ex-boyfriend in Georgia, who treated him like shit. Curious
coincidence, or bad joke? Or am I reading too much into this... Rex seems like  a
pretty good guy. It's just the way he was acting with Ryan the first time I
saw them from a distance, that's what got me thinking Rex was something he
doesn't appear to be. Plus, Ryan came right out and told me Rex sees
himself  as a dominant sex partner. Of course he could have been pulling Ryan's
leg  too, for all I know. If Rex is really a dominant type you couldn't get a
clue  of that from the conversation we're having. If anything he has a self
deprecating quality about him, which most definitely doesn't compute with
dominant. He doesn't appear to take himself too seriously either, and maybe
he's intelligent too. If he got 'this close' to an 'A' in Physics he'd
qualify  for 'wicked smart' in my book. Also I've noticed that funny guys,
professional  comedians and just your average buddy who happens to be funny, tend
to be  intelligent. And I'm not talking about a lot of hackneyed so-called
comedians  who say 'fuck this or fuck that' for shock value and pass that
off as funny. I  mean clever funny stuff, like putting a different slant on
everyday stuff in  funny ways you've never thought of. They're intelligent.


We walk in silence for a minute with me watching Ryan talking a blue
streak to Robby, who nods his head occasionally, but that's about it. Then  Robby
laughs and squeezes the back of Ryan's neck with Ryan leaning into  Robby.
What a brown-noser that Ryan is. Rex apparently isn't a fan of silence,
well normally neither am I, so he breaks the silence by asking me, "Whaddaya
got this afternoon for class, Dylan?"I mumble, "Um, let me check. Oh, it's
just the one class, a two hour lecture. I better bring the No-Doz tablets."
He  checks his little book, exclaiming, "Jeez, I got that class too, way to
go,  bud! See you there, dude. I gotta peal off here, my next class is in
this  building over there to my left." We bump fist, and he says, "Hey, nice
meeting  you! Ya know, I gotta be buddies with you." I grin, "Why's that?" He
shrugs,  "Dude, I noticed you take notes in class. So, ya know, I'm hoping
as your  buddy you'll let me copy off your paper for pop quizzes and midterms
and shit  like that?" I'm chuckling again, saying, "Hell yeah, copy away."
He grins  patting me on the back and then drifts off to the left. What the
hell, he's a  nice guy.


I catch up to Robby and Ryan just as Ryan's saying,  "No, no, I swear, Rob,
I didn't do that on purpose. I tried my best, but I  sucked." Ryan glances
over at me, "You don't think I fucked up your haircut on  purpose do you,
Dylan?" He's got tears in his eyes. I frown at him, not  knowing how to
respond to that exactly, and he says, "Rob thinks I did it on  purpose and I swear
to God I didn't." Robby says, "I merely asked you if  you're sure you
didn't make a couple of mistakes on purpose. I asked, I didn't accuse you of it."
Ryan's  face gets real red, "I would never to that to Dylan, never!" I go,
"Hey, guys,  calm down. Lets stop talking about it, okay?" I adjust my hat
again, turning  the brim to the side this time, than add, "My hair will grow
back enough in  two weeks to make something out of it." Ryan says, "Rob says
he's giving you  haircuts from now on, Dylan. I always was the one who did
that. Let me have  another chance" I shrug, "Rob's the boss, Ryan, what can
I say? Lets not talk  about haircuts, okay. Bad subject," as I again adjust
my baseball cap, the  brim to the back. I'm wearing the hat I bought a few
days ago in the book  store. It's the Merrimack baseball team's cap, and
yeah, I'm aware it's not  necessarily good form wearing a hat inside the class
and lecture halls, but  other guys do it, so it's not just me. I suppose some
professor might have a  hair up their ass about that, but I'm not expecting
to run into one of them.  This hat's not real comfortable somehow, that's
the problem, and I've been  fidgeting with it all day trying to find the most
comfortable way to wear it.  I think I'll switch to the posse boys hat from
not on. That thing fits  comfortably, most comfortable hat I've ever owned.
Ah yeah, the posse boys.. I  kinda miss them, a little bit anyway. And that
fucking hot-shit, Sonny, oh  man!


The three of us loiter outside the building our second class of the
morning will be in, all of us lighting cigarettes. It's like when you see one  guy
light up, it's automatic that you do it too. Habit, that's what it is, a
habit pure and simple. Speaking of habits, I haven't been doing that Dougie
Hamilton one lately, the one where I smell the back of my hand or wrist. I
do  it now though, thinking, 'Fuck! I shouldn't have thought about it. Now
I'll  probably get into it all over again'. Ryan takes a drag off his
cigarette,  saying, "I didn't smoke much all summer. Mack doesn't allow it. If he
smelled  cigarette smoke on my clothes I got whipped." Robby says, "Please,
Ryan, we  don't want to hear about it. That shit makes me nauseous." Ryan
mutters,  "Sorry," and we discuss the class we just had. I claim it was boring
and Ryan  goes, "Oh really? I thought it was kinda interesting," and Robby's
like,  "Yeah, I thought so too. We need to do the first chapter's work page
before  Monday's class, so do you guys wanna do it together?" Ryan jumps in,
"Oh,  definitely." I shrug, "Yeah, okay, but it'll have to be tonight. You
know,  Rob, we haven't talked at all about tomorrow. It's kind of an
important day."  He says, "Yeah, it is. I'm so nervous inside, Dylan, it's like I'm
almost  afraid to see Dodger after he's been away the better part of three
months. Do  you think he's changed much?" "Yeah, Rob, he'd almost have to be
changed a  little at least, but he'll still basically be the same old
awesome Dodger  underneath. I wonder about Connor changing more than Dodger."
Ryan asks, "What  are you guys talking about? What's happening tomorrow, Rob?"
Robby tells him,  "My brother, Dodger, is coming home after basic training,
plus they had some  class about leadership training too. They're in the
Army. I told you about  that in an email." Ryan goes, "Oh, right." Robby says,
"Well, now they have a  two week leave, or vacation, or whatever they call
it. So we're having a  little welcome home cookout for them, weather
permitting, as they say." I go,  "It seems like you guys aren't making too big a deal
out of it, Rob. You and  your rents I mean." Robby looks at me with a
surprised expression on his cute  face, "Dylan, you know what a big deal Dodger
is for me  personally. It's just that my parents are saving the big welcome
home party  for when he comes home for good. And Dad still has lingering
affects from the  car accident to consider. He only went back to work, I think
it was yesterday  or Wednesday. I've been busy here getting settled at
college so my mom and dad  are making the arrangements. Just a cookout, like I
said, and some draft beer.  Keeping it simple this time. Plus they'll probably
be one of those square  cakes with 'WELCOME HOME' or something written in
icing." I ask, "Your dad's  okay with the keg of beer?" Robby says, "It's a
quarter keg, and Dad says that  if Dodger can drink light beer at the PX he
can have some at home." I go,  "Makes sense. Who's coming to the cookout?"
Robby says, "A few relatives, the  next door neighbors, Vinnie of course, you,
Chubby, Cory, me, and that's about  it. The people who love Connor and
Dodger. He checks his wristwatch, saying,  "As a matter of fact those two should
be arriving home sometime this  afternoon, in about two hours actually. Dad
and mom are meeting them at the  airport."


Thinking about that for a second, I'm thinking it's a little curious,  so I
ask, "If Dodger's gonna be home this afternoon how come we're not going
there today after classes?" Robby says, "Because Dodger, Vinnie, and Connor
are going out tonight with my brother's rowdy friends from high school. Those
 particular friends are not invited Saturday night because my parents can't
 stand them. It's the dropout, tattooed and pierced crowd. The ones who are
 always getting in trouble at school. That's if they haven't been thrown
out by  now. Dodger's always hung with trouble makers because he likes the
crazy wild  guys. Ha, except for Vinnie, who's about as wild as a puddle." I
ask, "Um, no  offense, but how come I'm just hearing about this now? And does
Chubby know?  He has to work tonight, ya know, from six until two." Robby
grimaces, "I know,  I should have told you guys, I'm sorry, but I only found
out about the final  plans Wednesday and we've had stuff going on here every
minute. Um, plus I  just assumed you'd be with me whatever the plans turned
out to be. You would,  wouldn't you?" I say, "Of course," thinking it's just
what the head of the  household should assume... that I'd be by his side
whatever he decided, short  notice not withstanding. Or, I could think maybe
I'm being taken for granted a  little. Nah, I like my first impression
better. I glance over at Ryan, who's  looking down with an unhappy expression on
his face. Robby notices, and says,  "Ryan, I'm sorry, but my folks want to
keep the affair, um, intimate with only  family and closest friends." Ryan
mutters, "That's okay, I understand. I don't  even know your brother, or the
other guy." I go, "You worked with his brother  for a day and a half, or
something like that. And, Rob, how's Connor gonna get  along with Dodger's wild
friends?" Robby says, "The same way Vinnie does, I  assume. Dodger runs the
show with those losers, they wouldn't dare give Vinnie  or Connor any trouble
and then have to suffer the wrath of their leader. Plus  Dodger's become
very protective of Connor." I mutter, "Yeah, he told me in his  emails," which
is just what I was hoping for when they went in together, that  Dodger
would have Connor's back. Guess I won't be able to introduce Seth to  Connor
Saturday night. I thought it was going to be a much bigger affair where  I
could invite Seth too. Still, I'll introduce Cory to Seth before the party
sometime. I know Cory and Connor have been emailing back and forth so it'll be
interesting to see how they interact in person. At the going away party Cory
 seemed quite impressed with Connor, and Connor in Cory. They have
unfortunate  things in common, obviously.

Robby exhales some smoke, saying to me, "We'll take Cory down with us  in
the pickup, Dylan. Can he stay Saturday night with you?" I go, "Sure, of
course. Where's Connor gonna stay?" Robby shakes his head, "That poor kid,
maybe he'll stay with us." I say, "Or with me and Cory if... you know,"
meaning Robby wants to spend the night with Dodger. We drop our cigarette  butts
and step on them, then go into the building walking down to the  classroom.
Robby taps my shoulder, saying, "You call Cory and explain what's  happening.
Tell him we'll text him when we're just about ready to leave some  time
Saturday morning," I mumble, "Yes, boss," and we walk into the classroom  and
sit in our Robby-assigned seats in the forth row. We know by now Robby  wants
to sit between Ryan and me. He likes being the boss, or big brother, or
whatever, and I like him being in that role too, but not necessarily within a
formal threesome. The fact remains, even if we both stop having sex with
Ryan  there's going to be some sort of threesome. We've got mostly the same
classes  and we'll probably be lifting weights and studying together. We'll
just be  three friends, now that I think about it... not a threesome at all
because  that infers sex together. At least that's what it infers to us. So,
even three  buddies needs a leader type and for us Robby's it. Almost every
group has a  leader even if it's not in a formal sense. There's always
someone in a group  who the others end up looking to for what they're going to do
next and so  forth. And hopefully Marty and Ryan turn out to be very
compatible because I'm  guessing a Rex and Ryan thing isn't gonna happen. At least
that's what I  gathered from what Rex told me. Too bad those three couldn't
have formed their  own sexy threesome.

Class has started and I'm daydreaming about seeing Dodger and Connor
again. Damn, I've missed them both. If Connor hadn't gone into the Army he  could
have worked on Robby's crew this summer. It would have been awesome  having
Connor to ogle during the day. He's very good looking, uber cute, and I
love that kid. Yeah, but where would he have lived? His druggie mother is in
some halfway house, probably not thinking about Connor one bit. I'll bet
that's the case with her, just caring about her selfish pathetic self.  Fuck
that, I don't wanna think about her. Robby taps my notebook, I look  over and
he mouths the word, 'Notes', then gives me a sweet grin. Ryan's  looking at
Robby and me as we grin at each other. His eyes seem to cloud over  a
little, and there's a slight frown on his face. Poor Ryan got his brains
scrambled in Georgia by those perverts he hung out with. Oh man, I guess I  can't
just abandon him by having Robby dump the threesome so soon. It'd be  like
pulling the rug out from under Ryan. What the fuck, it's only the first  week!
 I can give it a while longer and see if things change one way or  another.
My main concern is Robby and me. I'm looking out for us first and
foremost. Then I try concentrating on the professor and manage to take a page  of
notes during what's left of the one hour class. At the bell we find out we
need to write a paper on the material covered in this first class. That's a
new one. The professor, a woman, who had a substitute for yesterday's meet
and  greet class, says she wants to get a feel for how well she's getting her
message across. Okay, so Robby was right about me taking notes. I now have
something to go on when writing the two hundred word paper. That's not many
 words so this will be a breeze and an easy way to get a good grade right
from  the get go. If I hadn't taken notes I'd be screwed.


Outside we're thinking we should have lunch before  the afternoon lecture.
Robby tells me, "Text Chubby and see if he wants to  join us." Wow, he's
being bossy alright, I love this shit. Taking out my cell  phone I see that
Chubby texted me during class. He and John Beverly are going  to Five Guys and
he wants to know if we wanna go. I ask Robby and Ryan and we  decide it's
too much of a hassle, plus we were just there. I text that info to  Chubby as
our threesome wanders around campus trying to form a consensus on  where to
eat. Along the way I run into Dougie Hamilton and his roommate,  Jamie. I
tell Robby I'm gonna stop and talk to these guys for a minute. He and  Ryan
have a cigarette conversing about something with Ryan doing most of the
talking again. He sure has a lot to say when I'm not with them. He's quiet as  a
mouse when I'm there, so what's up with that? Dougie yells over, "There's my
 awesome mentor." We're both sauntering towards one another and when we
meet we  bump fists and then Dougie initiates a hug, and it comes back to me
how good  this kid smells. He mumbles, "Hi, Dylan, you're a hell of a mentor,
dude. Ya  got me out of that fucking roommate mess. The one I was in with
that animal,  and now Jamie and I are awesome together," Jamie flicks a finger
under one of  the long strands of Dougie's hair that frames his face,
saying, "Dougie says  you're gonna give him a college appropriate haircut, Dylan,
and I say the  sooner the better. It's like I'm hanging out with Dracula
junior." They  chuckle with Dougie grabbing a handful of Jamie's light brown
hair, saying,  "You got a lot fucking nerve talking about my hair, mop top."
Hmmm, they seem  mighty comfortable touching each other. Cute kids actually.
Testing my theory  that Dougie's gay, I say, "That's mighty gay behavior
boys. You'll give the  wrong impressions to your fellow freshman." They
exchange grins, with Jamie  saying, "We wouldn't wanna do that, would we Dougie?"
Dougie hugs around the  back of Jamie's neck, muttering, "God forbid." They
laugh and Dougie lets go  of Jamie, asking me, "How 'bout it, mentor? When
you gonna keep your promise  about the haircut?" I shrug, "I don't know. I
gotta go home this weekend, but  maybe later this afternoon. Let me see what
my homies are doing first though.  Dougie, you've got my cell number, call me
around four, alright?" He says,  "Done, dude," and Jamie gooses him. They
laugh, then say, "Talk to you later,  Dylan," and wander on their way to
wherever it is they're going. I'm like,  hmmmm. Then I think, 'No,  Dylan,
you're cutting down on side-sex, not developing more of it, ya dumb  shit!'

When I walk over to  him, Robby asks me, "How about we just do McDonalds
and be done with it,  Dylan?" I go, "Sure, let's go," and that's what we do.
Nothing noteworthy  happens at McDonalds except Ryan does some more Rob
brown-nosing, but it's  like it doesn't even bother me now. Brown-nose away,
Ryan. Actually I feel bad  for Ryan even though he brought his trouble in
Georgia on himself. So he made  a mistake, I've made them too, and I still have
feelings for him although  they're more friendship feelings than the old
squirmy sexual ones. Funny how  things change so fast, but the fact is his act
this week has been very  inconsistent. It's been part steamy hot and sexually
dominant, then he goes to  the other extreme of acting wimpy and whiny at
times. In between he's shown  signs of meanness that's undoubtedly a carry
over from his Georgia  experiences, he's also been sneaky and manipulative at
other times. And I'm  referring to that shit when I had to ask 'please' for
sex. From insisting I  say please, he reverted to the opposite attitude by
nagging me for sex. Jeez,  it's like he's all over the place. And he's been
all over the place for five  days, and it now looks like he's settled back
into sucking up to Robby like he  did the second half of the summer with his
emails. I don't know what he wants,  and I don't think he knows either. Even
with all his inappropriate and uneven  behavior I'm not going to say, 'Fuck
it, hit the road toad' to him. I'm not  like that. I can't be that hard and
heartless, instead I'll try being a friend  to him. I'm pretty sure the
fire's gone out for both of us as far as sex goes,  and that's a good thing too.
Especially considering  my quest to cut down on side sex. I'll never
understand how it happens that  the fire of desire goes out just like that, but
look at the casualty rate of  marriages in the US. I did a paper on that
subject last year and if I remember  correctly America's divorce rate overall is
close to 50%. That's a lot of  fires going out, so it ain't just me and it
ain't just a gay thing. Something  like 41% divorce rate for first marriages,
60% for second marriages, and 73%  for third marriages. There's some three
time losers in that group, for sure.  The divorce rate is higher for
childless marriages and a little lower for  couples with children. Weird that I
remember that. I should spring this on  Chubby as a factoid.


We arrive on time  for the last class of this one-day week, and there's Rex
standing by himself  again. He comes over and squeezes my shoulder, asking,
"Do you guys mind if I  leech onto you again? I hate sitting alone and I'm
too shy to just start  talking to strangers." I notice he didn't even
mention girls, and there's no  way he's shy. We all say, "No, dude, we don't mind,
sit with us anytime."  We're loitering outside until the last minute with
Rex facing me, asking, "I'm  curious, Dylan. How do you keep a relationship
going as long as you and Rob  have been doing it?" I shrug, "It's no one
thing, Rex. Jesus, I never thought  about it actually. I don't know what to tell
ya." He asks, "Do you always wear  a hat?" I go, "Clever segue, heh heh.
Um, no I don't wear a hat all the time,  just when I'm hiding a really bad
haircut like I have now." He looks  concerned, "Where'd ya go for the haircut,
was it Supercuts?" I say, "No, it  was Ryan, who's standing right here, he's
the barber of record," and Ryan says  to me, "I thought you didn't want us
talking about that, Dylan. You just said  that a little while ago." I go,
"Chill out, Ryan! Rex asked me why I wear this  hat all the time, that's all."
Ryan looks down, muttering, "You don't have to  throw me under the bus." I
feel like saying, fuck you, who else should I throw  under the bus, you
fucked it up! But I don't, and curiously Rex doesn't ask to  see the bad
haircut. He probably knows it'd be a little embarrassing for me.  Huh, a
considerate college student? Stop the fucking presses, we got a  scoop!


We go inside and I  mentally prepare myself for probably fifty minutes of
lecture before we get a  break, and then the last fifty minutes of the two
hour class. I'm going to try  to get interested in this subject. It's a
marketing course so lets see if I  can get into it. I already know the professor
is a fairly young guy with a  cool haircut, much like the one that Rex has,
who's sitting next to me, by the  way. It's the intentionally messy look,
spiked a little, but fairly short.  Professor Burns is a lively guy seemingly
really into marketing and teaching.  Gasp, he actually appears to love what
he's doing and it's contagious because  I notice students paying close
attention to what he's saying. So  far he's dropped a couple of 'F' bombs too, and
 as casually as you please. College students, both guys and girls, use the
'F'  bomb in normal conversation like they're saying, 'heck'. I'd never say
the 'F'  bomb when my mom or Tris are present, but some kids use it everyday
when  talking with their parents, as do the parents. This is alien to my
family.  Speaking of family, mom has text me once or twice a day every day.
Basically,  without actually saying it, she's looking for me to convince her
I'm doing  good and enjoying myself without any problems. That, plus assuring
me she  loves me like life itself. It's corny maybe, but I like reading her
texts  knowing she's thinking about me, and I always reassure her I'm doing
great and  that I love her too. In my whole life I've never caught a hint
of mom being  unhappy or stressed, although she has to be once in awhile with
money being  always tight. From when I was a toddler, just able to
understand a little  about life, this has been my family... mom, Tris, Chubby, and
me. A family  with two moms and two sons. Everybody should have a family they
can depend on  for love and support, which is something Connor's never had,
and Cory didn't  have until recently when his mom straightened her life
out. Now at least  Cory's in a better place, but what's to be done about
Connor? I'm gonna talk  to my brother and the moms about Connor's problem when I'm
home this  weekend.

Surprise, surprise, this  marketing class continues to be interesting, and
thank goodness for that. It's  interesting mostly because of Professor
Burns. He brings it to life like good  teachers who care about their subject and
their students are able to do. The  first fifty minutes goes by quickly and
I have another page of notes by the  break. I give a thought to showing my
notes to Robby, but that's a  brown-noser move I'll leave for Ryan. Outside
we're smoking as Rex's  entertains us with his funny take on college life.
He's talking about final  papers he had due for last semester of freshman
year. "Ya know, I'm sure it's  happened to you guys at least once. You've got a
ten-page paper due tomorrow  morning and you haven't started it yet. Well,
from experience you know if you  hope to endure the all-nighter you'll need
to convince yourself of a few  things first or you'll never even get started
on this taunting task. And never  mind why you left it to the last day, you
did leave it, so deal with it,  right? You gotta be thinking: Ten pages, ten
hours. Should be no big deal. You  probably will debate the possibility of
a good night's sleep, and then get up  refreshed early tomorrow morning to
do it, but eighty-six that fucked-up plan.  We all know it don't work that
way. Then you try rationalizing that it's only  35% of your grade, but that's
loser thinking 'cause you fucking need that 35%  badly. So you try
convincing yourself that you work better at night anyway,  but if that's true why
haven't you started the paper yet? It's night, right?  Okay, maybe you don't
work better at night after all. So then you tell  yourself you'll take a quick
power nap and get right on the paper after that.  Or you figure that
technically it's a eight to ten page paper that's due, so  why not do seven and a
half pages to save time. It's almost like you started  the paper already by
eliminating two and a half pages. The problem is though  you actually still
haven't started the fucking thing yet. Then your worst idea  of the night:
you figure to put in a good two hours, head over to the frat  party for a
break, then come back and knock out the last eight pages by dawn.  This isn't
gonna fucking work either. I know, I've tried it. And don't get  side tracked
trying to differentiate between a bibliography and a 'works  cited' paper
because it's a trap to prevent you from starting. Finally, after  an hour of
trying to get yourself in the right frame of mind to start the  paper, you
make a firm promise to yourself that next time you're gonna write a  page a
day for ten days before the paper's due, and then you head over to the  frat
party and fuck it!" We're all laughing because there's a grain of truth  to
everything Rex said, but he has this comic way of saying stuff that makes
it so funny. Oh man, we have a good laugh and when guys are laughing together
 it's contagious.




After break, the second  session goes even better than the first and as a
bonus the professor lets us  out ten minutes early, explaining, "Ladies and
gentleman, we've covered the  material I wanted to cover and because none of
you slowed us up with inane  suck-up questions we'll get out early. See you
next Friday, guys. No formal  assignment, but please review this stuff I've
covered today so we can move on  from here." Okay, that's it, the first
grueling week of classes are over,  whew! On the way out Rex puts his arm across
my shoulders, asking, "What's  happening for you guys this weekend, stud?"
I go, "Rob and me are going home  for the weekend. His brother's on leave
from the Army and we want to greet the  hot-shit and welcome him home." He
goes, "That's cool, I'm probably gonna tie  a load on at Tracy's. You a drinker
or a lover?" I go, "I guess both, heh heh,  a rounded individual, ya know?"
He gives my shoulders a hug, mumbling, "I'll  bet you are, um, rounded. If
not totally rounded at least you get around,  which is almost the same
thing. See ya next week, dude." What'd he mean by  that 'get around' comment? He
bumps fist with everyone and heads off in the  opposite direction of us
three. We're headed for the pickup in the parking  lot. Ryan asks, "Are we gonna
lift weights now, Rob?" Robby says, "Yep, that's  on our schedule...
weights lifting." On the short drive to the apartment  Ryan's really friendly and
kinda excited. "Pretty good first week, huh, guys?"  I don't know how he
figures he had a good first week, but I say, "Well, in  actuality this will
probably qualify as the easiest week we're gonna have  until the Thanksgiving
break." Robby says, "Yeah, probably, but lets talk  about our lifting
program. Ryan, are we suppose to increase weights or reps?"  Ryan talks about that,
sounding a little bit more confident now that we're on  this subject. He
basically is saying, in an unnecessarily long round about  way, that 'no' we
don't increase anything for awhile. Just get real  comfortable with our
beginning weight and reps.


Robby parks in a spot ten  feet from the back door of our apartment
building. I muttering under my  breath, "Sure, right next to the fucking door"
keeping my bad luck at finding  good parking spots to myself. Robby goes, "What
was that, Dylan?" and I say,  "Awesome parking spot, Rob," and he gives me a
cute grin. In the apartment  Robby gets all the weights out from under the
bed. I gotta hand it to Ryan, he  said we'd take turns getting the weights
out and putting them back each time  we lift. To back that up, in a matter of
fact manner, he said, "Take off your  shirts, guys, and then it's your
turn, Rob, please get the weights out while  Dylan and I check the chart and log
in today's date. He gets the chart out of  Robby's and my desk and, back in
the living room, he pats the sofa next to  where he's sitting, saying,
"Over here, Dylan. Sit down next to me and I'll go  over what I want you to do
today." When Ryan acts confident and bossy like  this I still get a little of
that squirmy feeling for him. I sit next to him,  he pats my leg, and then
goes over the weight I lifted the first time, saying,  "If you can't get to
ten reps with the fifty pounds today, it's okay, but I  want your best
effort. Um, honestly speaking I'm surprised you can't do it  yet, but try real
hard today, okay?" I nod my head and he pats my cheek,  mumbling, "Good, boy."
What the fuck is this? Then Ryan refreshes my memory  about the proper
lifting technique, asking, "Do you understand how I want you  to do it?" I go,
"Yeah, I got it." He pats my back, "Good, now get us three  bottles of water
and bring the water and this chart out to the balcony along  with a pen."
Ryan goes out to the balcony and goes about setting the long bar  for me with
fifty pounds on it. He told me I'd always be lifting first because  I'm so
far behind him and Rob. I really don't think it was necessary for him  to say
it like that, but my response was, "Yes, Ryan." I'm mad at myself for
being submissive like that to him, but I don't always have total control when
someone is confidently 'taking charge'. It's my burden you could say, except
that so-called burden has brought me so much sexual pleasure over the past
three-plus years I'm happy to have it.


I take the bottles of  waters and chart to the balcony and Ryan sends be
back in to get the pen,  chastising me with, "Pay attention to what you're
doing, Dylan. It's important  to pay attention when lifting so you don't hurt
yourself or anyone else. So  get in the habit of paying attention before you
lift too, okay?" I nod my head  and he smacks me on the ass, mumbling, "Go
get the pen for me." I get the pen  for him and he gives me this 'look'. I'm
not sure what it's suppose to mean.  First we loosen up with exercises to
get some blood flowing in our bodies.  Then the lifting goes just like it did
three days ago except I have a hard  time matching last weeks repetitions. I
thought it'd be easier each time, not  harder. Ryan finally loses his
patience with me, and says, "The hell with it,  Dylan. I don't know if you're
trying or not, but I'll drop your weight down to  forty pounds if you can't do
fifty. You'll either try harder or I'll keep  dropping the weight down for
you all the way to the goddamn bar without  weights, if I have to. See if you
can lift that ten times. Jesus, man!."  Robby's head snaps up, and he
snarls, "Don't fucking talk to Dylan like that,  Ryan! Who the fuck do you think
you are? What the matter with you? We're  friends lifting together, not
whatever you think this is." Now Ryan whines,  "I'm just trying to encourage him
to do his best." Robby says, "You don't  decide if he's doing his best, he
does. Dylan decides if he's doing his best,  I decide if I'm doing my best,
and you decide for yourself how you're doing.  What the fuck? Do you think
you're our coach? I asked you to lead us through  this because you did it all
summer, but if you're going to act like a jackass  forget about it. We'll
figure out what to do ourselves." Ryan sits down on the  ledge of the sliding
glass door with his head in his hands. Robby frowns at me  and I shrug.
Then Ryan's shoulders begin to shake and I hear a sob. I mouth,  "He's crying,"
to Robby, pointing at Ryan. Robby rolls his eyes and then sits  next to
Ryan and puts his arm across Ryan's bare shoulders, saying, "Come on,  Ryan,
it's okay. You were trying to get Dylan to do his best, okay, that's  fine.
I'm sorry I yelled at you." Ya know how it is when someone's upset and  crying
a little, then you sympathize with them and they cry harder? That's  what
Ryan does. It's like Robby endorsed Ryan's crying and now he's going at  it
harder, but still quietly. I'm not without compassion, I'm not as hard an
ass as what I just said may have sounded like. Hell, half the time I see
someone cry, I cry with them. I'm a softy like that. I sit on the other side  of
Ryan with my arm around his slightly sweaty bare back for a little hug,
saying, "Shhhh, don't cry, Ryan. We're just friends with a tiny disagreement.
It's alright, really." Now I really do feel bad for him, the poor fucked-up
 kid.


Ryan gets himself under  control in about a minute, although it seemed
longer then that. His crying was  quiet, like I said, which is the most
heartbreaking type of crying as far as  I'm concerned. When I was blubbering to
Robby last night I was quiet about it  too. It's hysterical crying that gets on
my nerves. I have trouble feeling  sympathetic for hysteria, which I
interpret as mostly drama, like, 'Look at  me, see how upset I am... boo hoo'.
Quiet sobbing is more heart wrenching  because the crier doesn't want to draw
attention to him or her self and they  feel self conscious about crying in the
first place. Ryan murmurs, "I'm so  sorry I spoke to you like that, Dylan."
He looks up at me, "That wasn't me,  I'm not like that, really I'm not. I
guess I'm having a hard time acting human  again after last summer when we
were all mean pricks to each other, yeah...  except I was the only one who got
punished for it. And I'm sorry for blaming  everything on last summer too,
and for bringing it up every two minutes. I've  got to take responsibility
for myself again." He grabs my arm, asking, "Can  you accept my sincere
apology, Dylan, please?" I quietly say, "Sure, apology  accepted." He nods his
head, then rubs under his nose with the back of his  hand and wipes the tears f
rom his face with the palms of both hands,  muttering, "I'm such a jerk."
Ryan looks at Robby, who looks shocked at Ryan's  meltdown, as Ryan
pathetically mumbles, "I'm sorry, Rob, I promise it'll never  happen again." Robby
goes, "Good, Ryan, um, it better not. I'm really sorry   for your troubles
though, and Dylan and I are happy to be your friends.  Friends have
disagreements, like Dylan said, so lets put this behind us and  move on. We'll take a
cigarette break and get everything back to being, um,  somewhat real. Okay?"


We stand up and I give Ryan  a pat on the back remembering all the good
times we had before he moved. Some  very sexy times together, but that was then
and now it's, well, now. We light  cigarettes and I notice Ryan's hands are
real shaky, so he was very upset  obviously, but maybe it's a wake up call
for him. And how about my  head-of-the-household, Robby, jumping down Ryan's
throat to stick up for me.  Ha! That's my man, not that I wasn't about to
go off on Ryan myself. Robby  beat me to it, and I'm kinda glad he did
because I wasn't going to be that  nice about it. Enough is enough, ya know. Hey,
maybe I should have that  tattooed on my arm or something. My motto, 'Enough
is enough'. Catchy but not  very specific... yeah, a tad arbitrary some
might say. Okay, fuck the tattoo  idea. The three of us talk a little about
weight lifting in general which  Robby and Ryan know much more about than me.
Then, after the cigarette, we  finish up exactly the way we did everything
three days ago. Ryan being mister  helpful with everything as we finish our
lifting. Yep, nary a discouraging  word from Ryan, but I can't help feeling
sorry for him because he looks sorta  crushed. Jeez, it's always something.
When we're done we're sweaty and tired,  but it's an invigorating feeling too.
I feel like my muscles are tingling or  something. Ryan says it's the blood
that rushes to the muscles to help with  the load. The weights get put away
and the chart gets filled in, then Robby  says, "It's almost four o'clock.
I've got this baseball team meeting, the  official first one of the year, at
five. It'll be over at six thirty or so.  Can you guys hold off until say
seven o'clock for dinner? I know Chubby will  be at work by six so..." Ryan
says, "Marty, me, and Rex are gonna see a movie  tonight. Those guys are
movie buffs. We're grabbing an early dinner in the  dining hall. I guess I'll
see you guys Monday first class. Um, I hope your  brother has a nice vacation,
Rob. I'll miss you guys." Robby and I give Ryan a  hug, muttering, "No hard
feeling, Ryan." Then Robby says, "Come on, Ryan I'll  give you a ride to
the dorm." Ryan's putting his shirt on without cleaning up  first. He shakes
his head, "No thanks, Rob, I'll walk. I feel like walking and  thinking some
things over. Thanks anyway." Robby and I exchange looks and  subtle shrugs,
then Robby mutters, "Okay, if you're sure, Ryan." Ryan gives us  a grin,
"Yeah, thanks, guys. See you, Monday." I give him another hug and then  Robby
does too, and there are tears in Ryan's eyes again as he says, "See ya,"  and
he walks out the door.

Robby and I look at each  other, then go out to the balcony to look over
the railing and watch Ryan go  by, but he doesn't come this way even though
it's the most direct route back  to the campus. Robby goes, "Huh, what do you
make of that?" I mumble, "Beats  me, he's obviously not having an easy time
going from whatever shit he was  into last summer to this rather normal
college life." Robby plops down in a  outdoor chair, one of the ones without
arms, saying, "Yeah, but how normal of  a college life is it, if you think
about it. I mean considering the gay sex  complications we're running into along
with getting acclimated to going to  classes again and all that. It'd
probably be the same if it were having  straight sex complications with girls
too. Most college students, let's face  it, don't have nearly as much sex
complications as you, I, and Ryan have with  our side sex and whatnot." I take a
deep breath, blowing out my cheeks as I  exhale. Then shrug, unable to think
of something worthwhile to say to that. My  cell phone breaks the silence
and it's Dougie. Yeah, I forgot about him. I  answer and he wants to know
about the haircut of course. I look at Robby,  who's looking out at the trees
all around us. Hmmm, he'll be gone to his  meeting before five. I hesitate,
not sure if I should ask Robby if it's  alright to have Dougie over, and then
get real and tell myself it'd pissed  Robby off if I ask a dumb question
like that. I tell Dougie to come over at  five and give him directions. Robby
looks over, "Another haircut?" I go,  "Yeah, Robby, for the kid I'm kinda
mentoring,"and I remind him how I met  Dougie at Stop & Shop and the
coincidence that Dougie will be a freshman  at Merrimack this year. I tell him about
me helping the kid get his roommate  situation squared away." Robby
chuckles, "I'm not sure how much of a  coincidence it is that Dougie's going to
Merrimack.  He probably checked  around and found out what college you're going
to, and immediately applied for  admission." I shake my head, mumbling,
"That's just so wrong, Robby." He  laughs, then says, "Come over here, Dylan,
and sit on my lap. I need to give  you some lovin'."


I skip over, saying, "Oh  boy, you have some time for me at last." he
laughs, "You've been so ignored by  me, Dylan, I should be ashamed of myself." I
drop down on his lap facing him,  a leg on each side of his legs, and
mutter, "We're all sweaty." He goes, "That  never stopped us before," and his arms
go around the back of my neck. He pulls  my head over for a sweet kiss on
the lips, and then he says, "Wasn't last  night the best, baby?" I go, "Yeah,
for sure, but you better hug me again  right now because I'm feeling a
little insecure." He laughs and hugs my chest  against his with our sweat
combining and feeling sexy. Having grungy sex  occasionally can be really hot, not
that either of us are grungy all that  often. He rubs his hand up the back
of my head knocking my hat off. Robby,  mutters, "It's okay, I can look at
it. Any haircut on you looks good to me." I  mumble, "Why'd you suggest I
wear a hat then?" and he goes, "Oh, I didn't want  you scaring other students,
but I'm used to it so it's not so shocking to me."  I ask, "Are we gonna
make-out or are you intent on hurting my feelings?" He  says, "I was referring
to all the, um, unusual haircuts you had all summer,  that's all. That's
what I'm used to." Gee, to be fair about it between Willie  and Sonny I have
had some extreme haircuts this summer, that's true, but they  all were
professionally cut or looked like they were. Robby and I have our  arms around the
back of each other's neck, my forehead against his, as I say,  "The thing
is, I don't have the advantage you do of having one of the great  barbers of
the world giving me perfect haircuts." He kisses my lips quickly,  saying, "I
never thought of it that way, but you're right. Lucky ain't I? I  got one
of the best boyfriends in the world too, maybe the best in all the  world."
With my lips skimming over his and our noses rubbing together, I  mutter,
"You got it all going for ya, don'cha?"

We kiss deeply then. I lay  against him tightening my hold around his neck,
rubbing my nose against his  some more, thinking that I love the way he
smells, feels, and tastes. Robby  and I can make-out for long periods of time,
just one more thing we have in  common. We both love, love, love making out,
especially with each other... ha  ha. Everything is familiar and new with
Robby at the same time. We do a lot of  the same kissing, sucking, and
licking of each other we always do, but this is  a new time to do it with
different circumstances and our making out always  seems fresh and exciting to me.
As usual it eventually results in aching  boners in our pants with only a
confined space to grow in. We're sweatier now  than we were when we finished
lifting weights, but I love feeling the  perspiration from his face rub
against mine as I quietly murmur, "Oh, Robby, I  love you so much," and then his
tongue is in my mouth again. For maybe the  past couple of months I've sensed
Robby being in charge of our love making  more and more, and while I don't
think it's a conscious thing on his part,  it's there unmistakably just the
same and nothing could make me happier. If I  must compare it to
heterosexual love-making it's like he's the man seducing  his female sex partner. I
hate making that comparison though because obviously  I'm not female, and also
because it's the comparison Ray always made. It  annoyed me when he claimed
he had the man's role and I had the women's role. I  see what he means of
course, but it's not something one says to his male  lover. Robby could say it
and I'd know what he meant, except he'd never say  that to me in a million
years. Not my Robby.


Our faces move together and against one another with perspiration and
saliva covering the lower half of both. It's just so incredibly sexy to me, so
after awhile I can't help myself and my hips hump my crotch against Robby's
and out shoots a spurt of cum in my pants as I hold my breath to keep from
squealing and attracting more attention to my little premature ejaculation.
 It'll soon appear as a wet spot on the lap of my jeans. I'm breathing
deeply,  my forehead on his shoulder now as awesome sexy sensations buzz around
my  groin. He murmurs, "You okay, baby?" and I go, "Yeah, goofy me, I just
shot a  little load in my pants. You kinda getting me hot as the, let's see,
I've  already used the sun for a comparison, so how about as hot as an
exploding  giant sun?" Robby says, "That'd be hot alright, but I believe red
giants  collapse in on themselves. They're not really a super nova." I mutter,
"Yes,  Carl," referring to the guy who's not with us any longer, but you see
on Nova  once in awhile, the astronomer, Carl Sagan. Robby kisses my cheek,
then says,  "Let's step inside, Dylan, for a little intimate activity that's
all of a  sudden popped into my mind." I get off his lap, he takes my hand
and leads me  inside. Sliding the door to the balcony closed, he wraps me in
his arms and  our bare, sweaty chests rub together and oh my God it's so
sexy! Robby humps  his crotch against mine, asking, "When's your brother due
to pop in on us?" I  rub the sides of my face against his, murmuring, "Am I
my brother's keeper?"  Robby goes, "Ooh, a biblical reference, eh? I'll take
that to mean, you don't  know so we'd best adjourn to our bedroom where we
can lock doors and be safe  from prying eyes." He takes my hand again and
down the short hall we go with  me using my free hand to try pushing my boner
to the side because the head is  right up against the waistband of my jeans
and it's  uncomfortable.


In the bedroom Robby lets go of my hand, grins at me mischievously,  then
closes the door and locks it. Turning around, he mutters, "Here we go,"  and
pulls my jeans down past my slim hips. My boner pokes out the slit at the
front of my boxer shorts getting wet in the process from the mini climax I
had  earlier. At the front of my underwear there's a two inch wet cum spot
glistening in the overhead light. Robby glances at my boner as it sticks out
my shorts, and says, "I think I've seen that before." I like when he's in a
playful mood, especially when he's also horny which apparently he is this
afternoon. I say, "Yes, I believe you have seen little Dylan before." He
goes,  "That's his name, huh? Nice looking little guy," and he drops to his
knees and  takes it in his mouth. His nose slides in the cum spot which makes
him chuckle  quietly. For Robby, acting like this would be unthinkable a year
ago, but as  he's gained confidence in us as true-love lovers, or more
accurately gained  more confidence that I am a true-love lover of his, he's been
much more likely  to initiate extemporaneous sex. Recreational sex like
this, as opposed to our  favorite kind of sex that we call lover's sex, can be
very hot. As I run my  fingers through his hair and grunt quietly Robby does
a nice job of sucking my  cock. When I start moving my feet, moaning more
noticeably, and pulling his  hair, Robby backs his mouth off my hard
trembling boner. We both stare at a  string of my precum shimmering in the air
between his lips and the head of my  boner, then watch it breaks away from his
lips to drift lazily down and smear  across my boxer shorts. Robby smirks,
then pulls down my cum stained boxers  and I step out of them.


He rubs and then hugs my naked body, his hands ending on both of my  firm
butt cheeks, squeezing them. As we kiss we grind our crotches together  and
then do little humps, dry docking each other. He lifts his arms to hold my
head between his hands, the palms on my ears with the fingers spread around
the back of my head holding it still as he kisses and licks all over my
face.  He has big delicate hands with long fingers that are an asset in his
athletic  endeavors. His fingers almost meet at the back of my head as I moan
quietly in  deep sexual arousal feeling a dominance of some kind emanating
from Robby. My  arms hug around his bare back as I stay in place, my eyes
closed while he  covers my face with kisses and his sexy saliva. His lips like
sugar and his  candy kisses have me tightening my groin muscles getting ready
for another  orgasm. The side of Robby's face slides against the side of my
slippery saliva  cheek, and he whispers in my ear, "I love you. You're the
only boy I ever  yearned for and my yearning became such a deep burning
desire for you it  scared me to death. I need to pinch myself every now and then
to be sure I'm  not dreaming. I'm not dreaming though, this is real now and
our lives together  have started in earnest." Another kiss on my lips, then
Robby murmurs, "Please  turn around, Dylan, I need to have sex with you. I
need it and want it like  nothing else on earth." I stand here in a beautiful
trance amazed and thrilled  that it's been induced in me by my true love.
He pulls his pants down now, and  then strokes his wet boner. His boxer
shorts are as wet in the front as my  shorts that laying there on the floor.


Staring at his fat hard cock for a second, I then turn around in slow
motion and tremble at the thought of feeling that cock of his inside me. His
hands rub down from my shoulders continuing down my arms to hold my hand for a
 second before he uses his hand to guides the hard head of his boner to the
 lips of my ass. Barely putting pressure there, just enough so his cock
won't  move from my anus, Robby's arms come around me, crossing on my belly.
His hot  moist breath dampens the back of my neck as he gasps, then tightens
his arms  around me and slowly, ever so slowly pulls me back against him with
his fat  boner ever so slowly making it's way up my ass without Robby
moving his hips.  When my back is against his chest his boner is as far up my ass
as it can  reach. Robby's strong arms tighten further around me picking me
up slightly as  he bends back so I'm now standing on my toes and the head of
his cock probes  another half inch deeper. I go, "Ooooh, ooooh, ummmm."
Robby sets me back on  my feet and begins withdrawing his cock, it comes almost
all the way out as  the lips of my ass sizzle and quiver, and I moan,
"Ooooh, mmmm, aaah." His fat boner begins the trip back  up my ass with my
shoulders now shuddering like they do. I hear a long exhale  of Robby's held
breath, and then steady, subtle ,"Slap, slap, slap, slap,"  sounds of medium
speed fucking, his groin smacking against my buttocks,  becomes the prominent
sound in the room. A sound I've come to love because  it's usually associated
with sexual pleasure of varying degrees, but it's  always pleasurable. A few
minutes ago I was on the verge  of a second serious climax, but I've
weathered that and got over the hump so  that now I'm in it for the long haul and
it feels wonderful right from the  start. Robby picks up the speed, grunting
now, and then moaning, "Mmmm, feels  so good, baby, mmm." He's slamming
into my ass harder and faster as the  minutes slide deliciously by.  Each
penetration it's like a faster  and harder one than the preceding one as Robby is
obviously feeling it now  with his climax building and building.


I begin slamming back into his thrusts, wanting to bend forward because
that position might feel hotter, that's if it's possible to be hotter than
this. I can't bend forward though because Robby's got me around my chest
holding me tightly against his chest with his chin's bumping the top of my
shoulder as he humps his hips faster and faster. Sensations of sexual pleasure
begins ganging up on me and I'm moaning constantly, squirming in his arms
and continuing my clumsy humping back on each slams of his cock up my  ass.
He starts making whining sound of deep desire as I feel my orgasm begin  it's
final build up, my balls get hard and move up near my body. I'm  struggling
in Robby's arms, sliding in our mutual sweat. The sweat that's  formed
between my back and his chest and stomach. He's hammering his cock in  me
desperately now as I'm getting into a whining phrase of desire myself...  the need
to climax has built into a desperate need. Robby leans forward  against me
grunting, he stays there humping against my butt cheeks without  withdrawing
his iron cock. Then, with a squeal and a noticeable tightening of  his
muscles, I feel his hard body against me as a sharp stream of cum strikes  the
walls of my bowels, creamy, wet and warm. Every muscle in my groin  tightens,
I gasp and shake, feeling dizzy with sexual sensations coming from
everywhere. My cock quivers and my balls ache. Then, with my boner sticking  six
inches straight out from my body, as hard as steel, I shake violently one
more time and out flies a splattering of cum, almost a spray of semen, and
with my head back on Robby's shoulder the splattering is followed by a hard
stream of spunk with me struggling in Robby's arms causing the stream to be
squiggly instead of a straight line. Another three fast streaks of cum with
my  body that's become as hard as a board, and them I slump weakly against
Robby  with my skin shimmering and my shoulders shuddering again. Chills and a
 prickling feeling on my scalp. I gasp, "Robby, Robby... ummm, oooh, ump,
ooh,"  as sensations sizzle around my groin, my ass muscles seem to spasm for
a few  second and then things settle down. I lay back against Robby as he
lazily  thrusts his cock in my sloppy rectum before stopping completely and
we lay  against each other swaying on our feet. Heavy breathing and our
hearts  pounding, we groan quietly feeling weak but sexually satisfied. Robby
sways us  side to side, his cock still inside me.


After a minute my dizziness passes. Robby takes little steps backwards,
murmuring, "Walk backward with me, baby. Yeah, that's it, ooh, it feels so
good," as he falls backward on our bed with me on top of him, his cock still
inside me. I'm blinking my eyes fast, disoriented and then I try remembering
 all the awesome sensations I felt while Robby fucked me, but they all
blend  into one awesome sexual feeling of love and pleasure. Another deep breath
from  both of us before Robby slowly turns us up on our sides, and his cock
come out  of me. We lay on our sides with Robby still hugging me, his chest
still  against my back but his limp fat wet cock is now flattened between
his groin  and my butt cheek. A final tight hug and he lets go of me and
rolls over on  his back. I rustle around to lay on my stomach, then go up on my
elbows  looking down at Robby. We're looking at each other with little half
grins on  our lips. His turns into a big grin, then he says, "We're getting
good at  this, no?" I mutter, "Yeah, we're getting the hang of it. I love
that you  initiated and took charge of our extemporaneous sex, Robby, mister
head of the  household." He laughs, "What's so fucking great about that
phrase? You mention  it a lot." I go, "No I don't," and he says, "Do so, " and I
go, "Do not."  Robby says, "I believe I stopped doing that 'did so', 'did
not' nonsense in  forth grade." I go, "It really should be resurrected in
college. Match some of  the other mature shit college students do." He says,
"Would not," and I say,  "Would so," and Robby's cell phone rings from his
jeans' pocket somewhere on  the floor.


to be continued...  Donny Mumford    _thinat20@yahoo.com_
(mailto:thinat20@yahoo.com)


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I have had two books published that are available on  Amazon that maybe you
would like to order and read. Actually one  book and one short story. The
short story is titled "Concealed Agony -  Gay Romance" (and I didn't pick
that title.) Read this short story first.  And the book is named "Oliver's
Wildwood Vacation" They are  both about 'Oliver'.  You can easily find them by
searching for  'Donny Mumford' at the Amazon web site.

And I would appreciate it if you would  provide a comment at the site for
the stories as  well.

Thanks.

Donny Mumford



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