Date: Sat, 28 Feb 2015 12:30:48 -0500
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR Chapter  40

DYLAN'S  SOPHOMORE YEAR


Chapter  40


by  Donny Mumford


Bertuccis restaurant is crowded on a Saturday night and I suspect a  number
of Merrimack students are here treating themselves to a dinner away from
the dining hall where they've eaten all week. My buzz-headed companions,
Dougie  and Jamie, are hungry and so am I. We'd need at least two pizzas if I go
that  route, but pizzas here are $19.00 each, plus extra for each topping.
Frankly  they're not worth half that if you ask me. I decide on more
sensibly priced  pasta dishes that come with rolls and a big bowl of the house
salad. We all  order the so-called 'old fashion' lemonade too. It cost $3.50 a
glass, so not an  old fashion price, and Jamie guzzles his first glass down
and orders a second  glass. I give him a stared 'look' and he laughs, then
goes, "We'll treat next  time, okay?" and Dougie mutters, "Yeah, in the dining
hall." Fuckin' freshman!  We have a middle-aged waitress so there'll be no
ogling of a cute waiter  tonight. The pasta taste real good though and then,
what the fuck, we all get  desserts too. The final bill is $68.50 and we
didn't have a single adult  beverage. That's what usually jacks-up the bill at
dinners Robby and I have at  our restaurant, Dino's Italian, the one that
serves us cocktails. I leave four  twenties on the check to cover our meals
plus extra for a mediocre tip for  mediocre service. Jamie and Dougie are
appropriately appreciative at least, plus  I get to feel like a big shot
picking up the check. During dinner they decided  they want to go to the mixer
with me. They claim I'll teach them what to do at a  mixer. Jesus, these two
nineteen year olds are more like fifteen or sixteen year  old boys, but
whaddaya gonna do. It's only seven-thirty, which is too earlier to  go to the
mixer, so I take the guys to Tracy's first. We'll do some front  loading before
we head over to The Knights Of Columbus hall. It wouldn't be cool  arriving
at a college beer event totally sober.


During the ride to Tracy's, I say, "Fer chrissakes guys, what do you  think
I can teach you about mixers? All you do is basically stand around
drinking and breaking each other's balls, watching for someone to make a jackass
out of themselves so we can rag on them. They'll be music so some students
will  be dancing, but we mostly just tie a load on and see what happens, and
something  always happens." Jamie asks, "Like what?" I go, "I don't know,
maybe an  opportunity to fuck someone new, or at least flirt with someone sexy,
or maybe a  fight will break out. It's all about reacting to whatever
happens. Anyway,  mostly mixer's are for the sex-starved guys and girls hoping to
get lucky in  love. You two don't need to worry about that of course; yo
u're far from sex  starved. Jamie says, "You don't need to worry about it
either," and I go, "Yeah,  well, don't worry your cute heads about me." Jamie
says, "Still, we're sticking  with you like gum on your shoe." I add, "Okay,
but only until you're  comfortable, and then you need to mill around hoping to
run into one of those  so-called straight dudes you told me you perv on in
class. Strike up a  conversation with one of them about the class or the
professor. Whatever you  have in common, and see if any rapport develops
between you. You may be  surprised to find that everyone you think is straight
isn't entirely straight.  There are guys in the closet itching to be invited
out, but without the balls to  leave their hiding place on their own, so they
may need a little push. Give then  the opportunity they crave and you might
experience the delights of sexual  variety. Also, be on the lookout for bi
guys. Sure they fuck girls, but they  might like to change sides for a night
every once in awhile, especially if  they're hammered." Jamie and Dougie
cling to every silly word I say like it's  the gospel. I only wish I had more
to offer them in the ways of the world, but I  don't. Half the time I'm not
sure what to do myself. Like with that London guy,  Freddie. I'm not sure if
I'm coming or going around him. He may be coming on to  me, or he may just
be having fun at my expense leading me on without any  intention of coming
through. A cock-teaser type guy. If the latter is true I'll  be very
disappointed because I want to believe he's a good guy, not some  homophobic prick.
Hey, maybe I should explain to the boys how over the years  I've learned to
fake my way through certain awkward situations Yeah, but I can't  fake my way
through all of them, and I wouldn't know how to explain the faking  part to
the boys anyway.

I park the Jeep a block away from Tracy's and we walk back with me  telling
them, "The best advice I can give you is don't worry about what others
think. What do you care what strangers think? Be yourself and have fun as long
as you're not hurting yourself or others, and forget about the rest of your
 concerns." Gee, I wish I could follow that advice myself. I'm much better
at  handling awkward situations than I used to be, but I've got a ways to go
to  reach Chubby's level of not giving a shit. He's never cared what others
think  about him. He's a confident individual alright, but really cool
about it too.  Robby's more like me. As the three of us start up the stairs to
the speakeasy,  Jamie asks, "How much does it cost?" I say, "It's twenty-five
bucks, but that  covers all the beer you can drink and they'll be free
stuff to eat too. I don't  know what it is exactly, but they'll have some kind
of food or snacks." He says,  "Yeah, I know that, I saw the posters for the
mixer. I mean here at Tracy's." I  go, "Oh, it doesn't cost anything here,
except for buying beers. He charges a  very reasonable two dollars a beer.
Sometimes there's shots of liquor available  and they're priced according to
the whiskey Tracy has on hand that night. I  rarely do shots myself."


There's some guys and girls in front of us, but when we get to the top of
the steps it's Tracy who's selling tokens tonight. He and I do a normal
quick-hug for our  greeting, just like we'd do even if we weren't fuck-buddies.
"Yo, Dylan,  whassup." I'm like "Hey, Tracy, where's your bouncer tonight?"
He says, "Don't  need him, this place will clear out pretty much in the next
hour or so  because of the mixer." I ask, "You going?" and he gives me a
sexy look,  cryptically asking, "Should I go, Dylan?" I shrug, "Yeah, why
not," and I  introduce Jamie and Dougie. Tracy rubs both their heads, "Where'd
ya get these  buzz cuts?" I go, "I'm the barber, Tracy. I do it for fun, not
profit." Tracy  has a ponytail so he has very little need of a barber
himself. He says,  "Everything should be for profit, Dylan." Then he asks the guys
why he hasn't  seen them here before. Dougie's shy, but Jamie's like,
"You'll be seeing a lot  more of us now, Tracy. This is cool up here." Tracy says
to me, "Hey, listen to  this: I got guys coming Monday from a functions
company. They do outdoor affairs  like wedding and company outings. They're
gonna put like a tent roof over the  entire deck with heavy plastic siding.
They'll be three posts going down the  middle of the deck holding the thing up
so it'll be like a cathedral ceiling.  The snow will slide off it. That plus
my space heaters and I'll be able to stay  open all winter this year." I
go, 'Sweet!" Some other guys are behind us so I  buy twelve dollars worth of
tokens and we move out of the way. These tokens will  buy us two beers each,
so we head over to the table that serves as the bar to  buy our first beers.
Two beers each should be enough front loading considering  we had two beers
each earlier. The guys say, "Thank, Dylan," like I'm treating  then here
too. I hold my hand out, saying, "You're welcome. Four bucks each,  please,
your free ride ends here." Jamie gives me a five and as I'm giving him a
dollar change, he says, "Next you'll be charging us gas money for driving us
over here." Fucking freshman!


It's Corona beer again tonight. I like Corona better when it's served  with
little slices of lime. Ya force the lime slice through the top of the
bottle and let it float around in the beer. That's cool. We take our beers to
the normal spot my buds and me hang-out at, meaning against the railing. None
of  my guys are here tonight though. Chubby's on a double date with John
Beverly,  and Robby's in Boston with three teammates. And who the fuck knows
where Ryan  is. He's probably hogtied in his room being whipped by fuckwad
Marty. I hope to  see them all at the mixer later though, even fuckwad because
that'll mean Ryan's  there too and I can see that he's alright. I don't
know what that fuckwad  roommate of his is capable of, but I'm about fed up
with it. It's hard to  continually feel sorry for someone like Ryan who time
after time makes the same  mistake, but at this point I'm still feeling bad
for him. Him and his latest  mistake for a dominant sex partner... it's like
he can't help himself. Jamie  says, "Looks like Dougie and I are gonna be
upping our beer consumption  considerable now that we've been exposed to
Tracy's speakeasy." I  ask him, "Do you like beer?" Jamie's like, "Not
particularly. The first one's  the worst 'cause it tastes like shit, but after that I
sort of get used to the  taste. The fun part is getting high, not the taste
of beer." I go, "You can get  high from weed too. Ya ever tried that?"Jamie's
like, "We're not retards, Dylan,  yeah we've smoked pot, I brought some
from home. but I don't know where to get  it on campus." I go, "That's what I'm
trying to tell ya. You gotta get out more  and mingle. Mingle here at
Tracy's, or mixers, or whatever. You see someone  smoking a little weed, ya
strike up a conversation. Just walking around campus  you can hook up with
different people. Establish contacts." Those are all the  things I've never done.
I probably wouldn't know anybody if I didn't have my  roommates hooking me
up, but being I'm Jamie's and Dougie's so-called sex guru I  gotta pretend to
be confidently cool. Maybe it'll give them some confidence even  if I don't
have a hell of a lot of it myself. One thing's for sure, these two  are way
ahead of the game sex-wise, so that puts them up on most of Merrimack
students. Now they just need to expand themselves socially and they'll have an
awesome college experience. At least that's what I've heard.


As I'm sharing my limited  wisdom with Jamie and Dougie someone comes up
behind me and gooses my ass.  Hoping it's Ryan I turn around grinning and see
Travis Hunter grinning back at  me. Trying not to drop my smile immediately,
I go, "Travis, dude, wassup man?"  He goes, "Just doing some front loading
before the mixer. I mean why be smart  about it, right? Sure, I could go
there and drink these beers for free after the  cover charge. A cover charge
I'll be paying later anyway, but why do something  smart like that when I can
buy beers here for two bucks a pop." I go, "Yeah,  it's the camaraderie
thing being with hordes of your fellow students, that's the  charm of affairs
like mixers, but ya can't face that environment totally sober,  therefore the
front loading." He goes, "Bingo, spot on. Who are your friends  here, Dylan?
A couple of freshman, I'm guessing." Hmmm, I've suspected Travis of  being
a closeted gay from back in our high school days. He was in my graduating
class but we didn't really hang out together. We knew each other casually and
I  suspected him of coming on to me occasionally back then, sort of testing
the  waters so to speak. He'd say things that could be interpreted as
sexual  innuendos and he has a habit of getting in my space a little bit while
being  overly friendly and touchy, especially considering we weren't and
aren't  actually friends. He acted the same way towards me on occasion last year
at  Merrimack too, and now he's just goosed of my ass and his face is like
four  inches from mine. I might call his bluff one of these days and ask him
if he  wants to blow me because he is kind of cute, although perhaps a tad
too sneaky  to suit me.


I introduce Travis to the  boys and Travis is all grins rubbing their backs
and joking about their buzz  cuts. After rubbing their heads, his hand
lingers on their heads too long. It  definitely could be considered
inappropriate touching by some. Not so far by  Jamie and Dougie, although they do look a
bit flustered, but then they're just  learning the 'game'. Then Dougie
glances at me frowning a little when Travis'  hand lingers on the back of his
neck too long. Jamie's hasn't noticed the  touching so far, probably because
he's busy acting the 'mister personality' role  asking Travis how he knows
me, and what was it like for him during his freshman  year? Giving the back of
Dougie's neck a squeeze, Travis describes some of his  personal
difficulties in adjusting to college life as a freshman. I'll give him  credit for
being self deprecating, telling embarrassing stories on himself. He  states the
obvious too, "I'll tell you something you probably already know:  there's a
world of difference between living at home and commuting to high  school
compared to campus life where you can do whatever you feel like mostly."  No
shit, Sherlock. Jamie's nodding his head like he's just heard something new.
Travis ask Jamie how he met me, and Jamie tells him about Dougie and me
meeting  in Stop & Shop back back in Framingham. Travis looks at me grinning,
exclaiming, "Wow, that's quite a coincidence, Dylan. Meeting young Dougie
here  and you both going to Merrimack and all." I shrug, "Yeah, how 'bout
that." And  then Jamie tells Travis about me helping him and Dougie become
roommates. I'm  guessing Jamie's following my advise to get involved more
socially, which is  fine except I don't trust Travis all that much. Travis says to
me, "You've been  quite helpful to these two good looking guys. If you, um,
need any help with  that just let me know." Yeah, right.

To put an end to Travis'  interrogation of Jamie, I interrupt by asking
Travis, "Where's your roommate,  Harry Black, tonight?" He goes, "Oh, Harry's
over there telling jokes that he  can't remember the punch lines to. He's
probably doing it on purpose, forgetting  the punch lines I mean." Jamie asks,
"Why's he do that?" Travis chuckles,  "Because he's Harry and he's drunk, as
usual." I'm always curious about that,  "Ah, Travis, how the fuck do you
put up with him being drunk all the time?"  Travis goes, "Oh, Harry and I are
tight, I mean we're closer than brothers. I  think he's funny and he's good
natured too. He'd give you the shirt off his  back." Yeah, probably with
some puke on it. I drink some beer nodding my head  like I get it, although I
don't. Harry's basically a fall-down drunk and that's  got to be a constant
pain in Travis' ass, especially considering Travis is  almost always sober.
He pretends he's a big drinker, but he's not. Dealing with  a drunk when
you're sober can't be any fun. Yeah, Harry's drunk a lot yet  somehow he has
close to 4 GPA. How the fuck does he do it? Wouldn't it be funny  if his drunk
routine all this time has been an act? Ya know, he uses it to cover  up that
he's shy or something. Then for the first time something gives me pause:
what if Harry's gay. I'm pretty sure Travis is and maybe where there's smoke
there's fire and those two are fucking like rabbits. Hmmm?

Travis takes his hand off  Jamie and puts his arm across my shoulders,
hugging me to his side laughing, and  then says to all three of us, "Listen up
guys, I just remembered one of Harry's  jokes, and I know the punch line.
Let's see... There's this married couple who  have an eight year old son and on
Sunday afternoons they like to fuck. The only  way they can have their
afternoon nookie though is to give the kid a Popsicle  and send him out on the
balcony to report what's going on in the neighborhood.  While their kid's
busy doing that, the parents get laid in their bedroom. The  kid's got his
Popsicle out on the balcony and they hear him calling out the  neighborhood
activities as they fuck. He yells to his parents, 'There's a car  being towed
from the parking lot across the street'. 'An ambulance just drove  by'. 'Oh,
it looks like the Andersons have company this afternoon'. 'Hey,  there's my
bud, Matt, riding a new bike'. 'Jason just went by on a skate board'.  'Oh my
god, the Coopers are fucking again!' Startled, the mom and dad sit up in
bed. Dad warily asks, 'Son, how do you know the Coopers are doing that?' The
kid  yells back, "Eddie Cooper's on the balcony with a Popsicle.' Ha ha,
that's  pretty good. Travis is laughing at his own joke as he's hugging me with
the side  of his head bumping mine. Both Dougie and Jamie are chuckling
while frowning at  us.

I extricate myself from  Travis' hug by doing three or four fake coughs,
stepping away a couple of feet,  and lighting a cigarette. Travis says,
"Jesus, Dylan, you just had a coughing  fit and now you light a cancer stick.
What's wrong with that picture?" Jamie  says, "Um, they were fake coughs I
think, probably to get away from your  groping." Oops, I guess the socializing
has come to an end. Travis acts like  Jamie's kidding, as he goes, "Groping?
Why you little... ha ha, I'll show you  some groping," and he goes to grab
hold of Jamie, but Dougie puts his hand on  Travis' chest, saying, "Whoa
there! Is there any chance you maybe caught your  roommates excessive-drinking
habit, dude. Enough touching, okay. Um, no offense  intended." Travis tries
saving face, "And none taken, my friend. Hey, I'm  fuckin' joking with you
guys, don't ya get it? Jesus! Freshman, huh, Dylan!" I  shrug and exhale some
smoke that Travis bats at with his hand, as he says, "I  better see what
Harry's up to, nice meeting you guys." Then he grins, pointing  at Jamie, "I
still owe you a groping, heh heh. See you guys." Well, he did the  best he
could with that. He makes an asshole of himself and then to his credit  he sort
of admitted it and left as gracefully as he could. I feel a little sorry
for him. Some guys just don't have any natural 'cool' in them, and they try
too  hard for it and it bombs. Doesn't necessarily mean they're bad guys,
they're  just not cool... and in Travis' case, sneaky.


We buy another beer and I  when I turn around there's Judy Rinker and her
friend, Mary Butler. "Dylan, hi!  Oh, who are your cute friends. Hi boys,"
and she rubs Jamie's head, like  everyone seems to do. I introduce the girls
and the guys, explaining my  companions are freshman and how I sort of know
Dougie from home. Mary says, "You  boys want a good time, be our dates
tonight for the mixer," and Judy says, "We  know this gorgeous guy here isn't
going to take us. Right, Dylan?" I shrug,  "Well, you know, what can I say."
Jamie says, "We can't take you either. Dougie  and I are taking Dylan." He's
nodding at me, mumbling, "He's our date, right,  Jamie." Jamie grins, "Uh huh,
Dylan's our date." I go, "Yep," and Carol goes,  "Fuck! More gay guys! It's
getting harder and harder to get a fucking date with  cute guys anymore.
You fucker's are all going over to the dark side." Judy says  to me, "Oh yeah,
do me a favor, Dylan. Tell your two-timing brother I'm pissed  at him. I
know what he and that wise-ass John Beverly are up to with those  skaggie
Jones twins." I'm like, "Jones twins? Who are they?" Carol says, "Local  sluts,
that's who they are. Jeff met them at McDonalds when he worked there." I
go, "Yeah, well, I'll tell him when I see him. We gotta get going." When Jamie
 turns around Carol give his ass a goose and he yelps and jumps, blushing.
Dougie  glares at Carol as the two girls giggle their way over to the  bar.


We're back at our spot  against the railing, Jamie asks, "Does that girl,
the tall one, always have a  potty mouth like that?" I go, "Yeah, girls think
it's cool to act like a guy  saying 'fuck' all the time." There's music
playing in the background which makes  me ask, "Do you guys dance?" Jamie's
like, "Here?" I go, "No! I mean do you know  how to dance, not necessarily
here... anywhere." They look at each other, then  back at me, "No, why?" I was
thinking about Sonny asking me to teach him to  dance and I wondered how
these guys learned, but they apparently haven't. Willie  taught me and I was
just wondering how others learned. Of course some never  learn. I say to the
guys, "Just wondered, that's all. I wouldn't dance with a  guy here either,
but maybe I will one night with Robby. You know, we'll break  new ground for
gays. Be  pioneers exploring new territories." Jamie says,  "Whoa, I'm deep
in the closet at home, so I'm not gonna be a pioneer for  anything like that.
Mums the word." Dougie goes, "Same here." I ask, "Why don't  you come
'out'? That's a big secret you're carry around and it can get to be a  heavy
load. Don'cha think?" Jamie says, "No, not particularly. My parents don't  have
a clue." I go, "You might be surprised. Mine didn't seem shocked or
surprised at all when I told them I was gay." "When'd you tell them, Dylan?" I'm
like, "Um, it was after I graduated high school so it's not like I wasn't in
the  closet for awhile myself." Then I'm curious, "Hey, you guys came out
and  admitted being gay to those girls, so why not your parents." He shrugs,
"I don't  know those girls," and Dougie mumbles, "Anyway, like you, Dylan, I
think my  mother suspects I'm gay, although neither of us has said anything
directly to  each other about it." I ask, "How about your father?" He says,
"Ha, I don't  think he remembers my name. He's never home. Works all the
time and travels a  lot too." I'm not at all sure I should influence these guys
to come 'out'  anyway. I say, "Well if you come out you establish your
identity to them,  yourself, and to everyone. I'm glad I said who I am by
basically admitting I  prefer same sex partners instead of girls. It's not like I
made a conscious  decision to be gay, it just happened on it's own somehow.
Everyone's different  though, so you're the only one who knows what's best
for you." I'll leave it at  that. How'd I get on this topic anyway?

Finished our second beer, I  ask, "Shall we see what's up at the mixer
now?" They both go, "Yeah, okay," and  Jamie says, "Remember, we're gum on your
shoe." I laugh, "Sure, guys, whatever."  I drive five minutes back to
Bertuccie's restaurant which is on Andover street,  and then it's less than a five
minute drive down Andover street to the Knights  Of Columbus hall. Every
place of interest in North Andover is a ten minute ride  at most. Naturally
the parking lot's full already, not than it's that big. Guys  are parking on
the side street. North Andover High school is up the street from  the hall
and I can see it from here. Being stubborn about it, I'm determined to  find a
spot to park in the lot. I finally park in front of the dipsy dumpster
right next to a sign that says, "NO PARKING". We get out and see a hubbub of
some sort at the front door with some guy shouting. A big guy from Merrimack
is  acting as bouncer apparently, and he's arguing with kids who don't have
a  college ID with them. Probably high school students from the
aforementioned  North Andover High. I say, "Let them sort that out before we go in," and
I light  a cigarette looking for Robby's pickup in the parking lot, but
don't see it. We  can hear the music and the buzz of talking and laughing
coming from  inside.


Finally a police car pulls in  the parking lot. One of the cops asks the
bouncer, "Trouble?" and the gaggle of  disgruntled high school kids disperse.
The cops drive off, but will probably  keep a close watch on this place for
drunk drivers leaving the parking lot.  Police targeting a place for that
specific purpose is against the law, I think.  Not that the cops give a shit
about that. This is a private party supposedly,  and the legal drinking laws
regarding private affairs are hazy at best and it  appears that uninvited
police can't prevent minors from entering. Further  complicating the law
forbidding underage drinking is the law stating it's  unlawful to sell alcohol to
anyone under twenty-one, but the fraternity isn't  selling beer. It's
selling a ticket to get in a mixer while telling everyone  they can't drink
unless they're legal age. That's what they say and that's what  the signs inside
will say, but no one checks the age of anyone pouring  themselves a beer.
It's self serve. This is a gray area mostly overlooked by  authorities when
the affair is somehow affiliated with a college or  university.The cops would
need 'cause' to enter the Knights Of Columbus hall,  like a gun going off or
a riot breaking out. Otherwise they'd need a warrant  which they won't get.
Also some of the cops are members of the Knights anyway  and the Knights Of
Columbus is making money renting their hall, so the  brotherhood sticks
together, ya know how it works. Some, all, or none of this  may be actually
true, but it's the scuttlebutt I've heard regarding underage  drinking and
until something happens to prove it wrong that's what we'll  continue believing.
It makes for a more relaxing atmosphere thinking we're not  breaking the
law.


There's never been a mixer or  frat party raided by the North Andover
police, not that anyone can remember  anyway, and there's never been a traffic
fatality by anyone attending one of  these drinking affairs, so fingers
crossed that tonight is no exception. There's  very little driving necessary to
get here and back from campus, and with frat  parties on campus there's no
driving at all. On the other hand, Tracy's  speakeasy violates all the laws,
but he's never had a problem with the police  and no one knows why that is.
Tracy's parents are rich and they must know  somebody who knows somebody.
That's our best guess. I can't believe he's 'paying  off' the police. I have
heard his father owns the duplex where Tracy lives on  the second floor. Other
than that it's a mystery why in two years the police  have hardly ever
visited the speakeasy. It helps that the building is on the  corner with an open
lot across the street to it's right. The street is  a little used street and
on the left of Tracy's duplex there's a strip mall  that's closed by the
time Tracy's speakeasy opens. It's an isolated spot. All we  know is it's been
a good place to have some beers. How Tracy gets away with it,  and without
any kind of license, plus serving underage patrons is often  discussed, but
without input from Tracy it remains a mystery. I wouldn't presume  to use my
buddy-sex status with him to pry into the  topic.


We go up to the Knights Of  Columbus double front doors and the bouncer
nods at us friendly-like. While he's  collecting our twenty-five dollars each,
in a monotone voice he tells us,  "Obviously none of you are twenty-one,
which means no beer consumption will be  allowed on the premises by any of you.
Thanks for supporting our fraternity, now  move along, please". He's
probably said that many times already and he'll be  saying it many more times
before the nights over. Absolutely no one pays any  attention to it of course.
Inside the place is bigger than it looks from the  outside. There's a long
bar down the right side of the room with six half kegs  sitting on the bar in
a row. The kegs are labeled: Bud light, regular Bud, Coors  light, regular
Coors, Rolling Rock, and the last half keg is Iron City. I've had  all of
those beers one time or another except Iron City. Beers do taste  different
from one another, but none of them taste good per se. Not compared to  Snapple
or Coke for example. Those soft drinks taste good, but you can't get a  buzz
from them so that's where beer comes to the rescue. Red and white wine is
available in boxes with pour spouts next to the kegs although very few guys
will  go anywhere near them. They're for girls who can't stand the volume
necessary  when drinking beer to get their buzz on, the buzz and the
accompanying lessening  of inhibitions is primarily what it's all about. There are
two bar tenders  working the second half on the bar selling mixed drinks, but
they do check ID  for that. Probably half of the four to five hundred
college students here are  twenty-one or older and the bartenders look busy so
that's another money-maker  for the Knights. Later on they'll be a lot of shots
sold I'd  imagine.


There's sixteen ounce heavy  duty plastic cups stacked just before the
lineup of half kegs and we each take a  cup. Dougie and Jamie fill theirs with
Bud light and I try the Iron City beer.  When pouring beer from kegs you get
a nice 'head' on a cup of beer, which I  like. Beers in hand, we begin
milling around to find somebody we know. On the  side of the room opposite the
bar there's a DJ with a bad comb over putting out  club music for dancing.
It's okay, but last night's country rock was better.  Club music has a big beat
but it can be very repetitive. It's okay though. In  front of the DJ is the
dance floor's being utilized by early arrivals who  already have their buzz
on. There's a buffet across the back of the room getting  a lot of
attention. From where I am I can see a pile of chicken wings, nachos  and those
horrible tortilla chips with orange cheese sauce on them, plus salsa  dig, and
two other food items in big restaurant pans over a flame. Next to the  buffet
is a popcorn machine spouting out popcorn constantly. Huh, the fraternity
has outdone itself with the snack food, although when considering five
hundred  admissions times twenty-five dollars, maybe they aren't all that
generous with  the food after all. The rest of this big hall is filled with tables
that are all  occupied and then around the perimeter of the room are groups
of standing  students drinking and yucking it up with their friends or
acquaintances. A quick  appraisal and I'd guess it's pretty much fifty-fifty guys
and girls. There are  mixed groups of guys and girls too, but the majority
of the tables and groups  standing are made up of one sex or the other.
That'll change as more and more  booze goes down everyone's throats. It's loud
but not raucous  yet.


Whenever I'm at a large  gathering like this consisting of mostly Merrimack
students, I realize how few  of them I actually know. I don't feel I've
been a hermit, but I'm not real big  on introducing myself to people. If I were
in a fraternity, or one of the clubs,  or on a sports team, that's how you
get to know many more of your fellow  students than I know. Fuck it though,
I don't want to know tons of people  because I can't remember their names
usually, and that can be  embarrassing. All my advice to Dougie and Jamie
earlier is advice I never  followed myself. Ah ha, then the first guy I run into
is someone I know, Jarod  Mellincamp. He and some douche bag named Dick
Veris instigated a fight with me  the first week of my freshman year. The two
of them were kicking my ass until  Robby went postal on Veris', pounding him
over the head with a trash can lid.  Jarod and I fought to pretty much of a
draw after that, although we both claim  the other won the fight. In a fist
fight rarely does anyone escape without some  bruises no matter who wins.
Jarod's with his girlfriend as he gives me a big  grin, saying, "Dylan! Still
taking names and kicking ass?" We do a quick hug,  with me mumbling, "Nah,
your's was my first and last fight at Merrimack. I've  decided fighting's for
asshole's." He goes, "Speaking of which, did I tell you  Dick Veris flunked
out during second semester last year?" I shrug, "Yeah, you  told me that
and good riddance!" He goes, "Oh, this is my girlfriend, Jill," we  nod and
smile at one another, then I introduce the boys and Jarod goes, "Nice to  meet
you guys. Hey, Dylan, glad I ran into to you. I was beginning to think I
didn't know anyone here," and Jill goes, "We just walked in, Jarod, Jesus
Christ!" Then she points, saying, "There's Timmy and Diana." He nods at her,
saying to me, "You still owe me that free haircut you  promised."


His girlfriend's cute, but  Jarod's cuter. After the fight we ran into each
other on campus a couple of  weeks later and became friends. Not the kind
of friends who hangout together  necessarily, but after a fight you sometimes
find yourself respecting the other  combatant, and it doesn't hurt that
Jarod's, like I said, cute. I say, "I'd be  happy to give you a free haircut
anytime. I see you're sticking with your preppy  look," meaning his short
light brown hair. He had long hair when we fought and  then when I saw him a
couple of weeks later he'd had his hair cut in a short  preppy style that looks
good on him. He came to his senses and was done  hanging-out with Veris
before that asshole flunked out. He tells Jill, "Dylan's  the first person who
casually came right out and told me he was gay." She  shrugs, sarcastically
saying, "Congratulations." Huh, kind of a snooty twat,  which surprises me
because Jarod's a cool kid who doesn't need to put up with  that attitude of
hers. Then she says to Jarod, "I told you, Timmy and Diana are  right over
there. If you can pull yourself away from gay Dylan here, lets go say  hello.
They're saving seats at their table for us." Jarod says to her, "Yeah,
okay," then to me, "Nice seeing you again, Dylan" and he gives me that cute
grin  of his with the dimples and super white teeth. We bump fist as I mutter,
"Yeah,  same here, dude, good seeing you." They walk away and I think, 'What
a waste.  Poor Jarod's pussy whipped by his girlfriend. Yeah, and I think
he told me once  he's been going with her since junior year of high school.
Too bad, he'd be  awesome on our side, and if not that, he could at least do
better than  her.


The boys and me continue on  our way towards the buffet, not because we're
hungry, but because we paid for  the right to eat that stuff and we want to
get our money's worth. Jamie sees a  guy who he tells me sits next to him in
his creative writing course. He  introduces me to an average looking guy,
who seems harmless. They start talking  and laughing about something that
happened in class last week. This guy is with  two other guys who Dougie also
knows and I take the opportunity to go solo for  awhile, saying, "I'll catch
up with you guys later." They pat my back and, as I  drift away, I hear
Jamie saying, "He's the one who gave us our buzz cuts." The  other guy says
something, probably derogatory, and the last thing I hear from  Jamie is a
whiny, "It was Dougie's fucked-up idea not mine." Well of all the  ingrates! Ha
ha, I have a feeling Dougie rimming Jamie's won't come up as a  factor in him
getting the buzz cut. Not with the boys being in the closet and  all. And
what a surprise! No more gum on my shoe. That was  quick.


Someone grabs my arm, "Dylan,  wassup? Where's Ryan?" Turning I see Ryan's
friend from last year, but I can't  remember his name. Damn, he's the nice
guy who tried teaching me pool the time  Robby, Ryan, and I spent a few hours
at his parent's house one night last year.  I go, "Dude, great to see you.
I'm not sure Ryan will show up here tonight, I  really don't know for sure
one way or the other." This pool-teaching guy is with  a girl who's kinda
hanging all over him. She says, "Why haven't I met Dylan  earlier, Felix?" Ah
yes, that's right, it's Felix Jonnas.  I'm chuckling  saying, "Yeah, why
haven't you introduced me to your girlfriend, Felix?" He says  to his
girlfriend, "Put the breaks on your flirting, Nance, he's gay." I make a  'face' like:
'sorry about that'. She sticks her bottom lip out doing  a  fake pout,
mumbling, "Gay? Oh what a fuckin' bummer that is," and she slaps my  arm."
Girls!  Felix says he's only seen Ryan twice all semester and the  first time
Ryan was eager to get together, but the second time Ryan was moody. I  tell him
I see him every day because we're in the same classes together, and  that's
Ryan's, "Um, he's doing okay generally speaking, but I suspect roommate
problems, although I'm not sure." Felix goes, "Yeah? That sucks!  Nance had
to change roommates this year too." Felix lives in North Andover and commutes
to  Merrimack. After another minute of small talk, Nance drags him away to
join  three girls she knows and I continue on my way to the buffet. At the
buffet,  who's there but Robby's friend Chad Bundy. He's looking cute and
sexy as ever.  Chad's one of Robby's side-sex partners last year, although
Robby never came  right out and said he was, not in so many words. Chad
introduces me to a guy  named 'Pat', who I think was his roommate last year. We talk
about a few things  college-related without either of us mentioning Robby's
name, and then they join  a table with four other guys. I don't know any of
them.

I put a few buffalo chicken  wings on my paper plate along with some ranch
dressing, but pass on the other  stuff. There's lasagna in big restaurant
pan over a flame and what looks like  some kind of chicken something-or-other
with a sauce and vegetables. Yuck, but I  guess the boys and I could have
made a dinner out of it, and I would have saved  eighty dollars. Nah, I'm glad
I treated them to Bertuccis. I'm leaning against a  shelf that's on the
wall behind the buffet table. I set my beer and paper plate  on the shelf so
both my hands are free to eat the spicy chicken wings. Dipping  one of the
wings in the ranch dressing I'm eating while looking for Robby or  Chubby, when
two guys I should know the names of come over and put their beers  and
plates of food on the shelf, one of them saying, "Dylan, what the fuck ya  doing
eating along?" I go, "Waiting for my roommates, how's it going?" The guy
says, "It's good, sophomore year's easier then freshman. Um, you remember my
bud, Josh, right?" I go, "Yeah, wassup, Josh?" He says, "This food suck's
for  one thing,"as he forks some lasagna into his mouth. Then two girls join
us and  the tall one says, "Homer, you said you were taking us out to
dinner." Oh yeah,  that's right, this is Connor's friend, Homer. I don't think
I've ever known his  last name. Homer laughs, "This is the dinner, Mudge! It's
all you can eat too,"  then to me, "What do you hear from Connor?" I tell
him what I know, and about  the welcome home party we had for Connor after
basic training, and that he's  training to be a medic. The girls are bored
though, neither one registering as  cute in my gay brain.  I dump the chicken
bones, telling Josh and Homer,  "I'll see you guys around," and head back for
another beer. The only thing  Connor ever told me about Homer is that his
name's not Homer. He didn't seem  gay, but ya never know. Along the way I bump
fist with Rolly, who's I know from  last year, but his last name escapes
me. He's with two guys who I'm pretty sure  I don't know, although they both
called me by name. So I guess I know a half  dozen people out of four to five
hundred. It's kinda funny.


While I'm pouring a beer from  the Iron City tap, Chubby comes through the
front door with John Beverly and  their dates. I now know their dates last
name, they're the slutty Jones twins.  They're local girls, not from
Merrimack. Chubby gives me that special smile that  says he's happy to see me and we
hug as John Beverly and me are bumping fists.  Chubby introduces the girls
as, Frick and Frack Jones, which I'm guessing aren't  their real first
names. Chubby usually gives his girlfriends nicknames that seem  to stick. Chubby
insists I sit with them. All four of them have cups of beer as  Chub  leads
us into the warren of tables. I say, "Bro, there are people at  every
table." He grins at me, "Yeah, that appears to be the case." He chooses a  table
with a guy and a girl sitting together, apparently in a deep serious
discussion. Chubby says, "Hi, I'm Jeff and this is Frick, Frack, John Beverly  and
my awesome brother, Dylan. How's the food? Have you tried it yet? Oh, ya
don't mind if we join you, do ya?" as he puts his beer on the table and sits
down right next to the girl, smiling at her. He's followed by John Beverly
and  the girls which accounts for all six seats. Chubby leans back and pulls
a chair  from the table behind ours over to our table, as he asks, "Anybody
using this."  The girls at that table look startled as Chubby adds, "Nice
to see ya tonight."  Then he points to one girl saying, "Nice sweater."
Chubby's forcing the chair in  between him and the girl we barged in on, saying,
"Could ya scoot over a little,  honey?" John says to the couple, "Very nice
of you to share this table of six  with us." I'm sitting in the seventh seat
in awe of Chubby brassiness. He asks  the couple, "So, how you guys doing?
Crowded tonight, huh?" The guy looks wicked  pissed, his face is red with a
vein pulsing in his forehead. Big guy, as he  stands, saying, "You're one
rude fucker, ya know that!" He pulls the girl up,  they take their mixed
drinks and huff off. Chubby goes, "Was it something I  said?" Chubby can get away
with stuff like that. I wouldn't even think of doing  it. I just assumed
all the tables were taken. It is a little rude of those two  to occupy a table
of six for their long drawn out discussion of whatever serious  matter they
felt they had. That's how we rationalize taking the table from  them.

My four companions talk and  laugh about the movie they saw this afternoon,
then about the bar they went to  with guys bullshitting their way into
getting beers. They told the guy they were  exchange students from Norway where
the legal drinking age is eighteen. It was  some dive joint in Lawrence, and
then they had a lot of funny things to say  about their dinner at the
Ninety-nine restaurant. The girls are very talkative  too, but everything their
talking about I know nothing about, so when I see  Robby, Danny Monday, and
their other teammate come through the front door, I  say, "Excuse me, guys.
See you later Chubby, I'm gonna say hi to Robby who just  came in." Chubby
says, "Later, bro," and as I walk away one of the girls goes,  "He called you
Chubby? What the fuck?" I don't hear Chubby's undoubtedly off the  wall
bogus explanation of his nickname, but last time I heard the explanation,  he'd
said, 'It's short for Jeffrey obviously'. Love me some  Chubby!


When I make my way to them,  Robby and John Beverly are pouring beers as
the other guy fills his cup with red  wine. Ghastly! Robby sees me and gives
me a big smile, then a hug, but no kiss.  Danny hugs me too, a little too
enthusiastically, saying, "You're looking hot as  ever, Dylan. Fucking Dickers
is a lucky dude." The wine guy says, "You're  Robby's boyfriend? Holy shit.
Where's my hug," so it's confirmed there's at  least three out the
thirty-five baseball players on Merrimack's roster are gay.  I suspect that's known
only to the three of them. Three out of thirty-five fits  the one-in-ten
estimation of gay to straights in our culture.  An  estimation I strongly
challenge as an underestimation, not that anyone cares.  The wine guy gets
introduced only a 'Drops', with the explanation that he's a  reserve catcher who
has a propensity to drop the ball when it's pitched to him.  He's built like a
catcher, stocking and kinda short. We find a spot in the  corner near the
DJ and I soon discover 'Drops' made the team as a pinch hitting  and as an
emergency backup catcher. He's a good hitter with long ball power. He  also
says the word 'fuck' every third word, but he seems likable enough. He's  got
a fully developed beard that's totally not sexy and he's not cute. Brutish
looks, but like I said, a nice guy.


They talk about their trip to  Boston and tour of Fenway Park. Lots of
laughing at the shit they encountered  with 'Drops' apparently prone to dropping
more than baseballs and 'F' bombs. He  dropped a cup of soda off the Green
Monster, which is the tall wall in left  field at Fenway Park. The cup of
soda hit one person in the group doing the tour  after Robby's group. The Coke
apparent was distributed among half a dozen people  below. That reminded me
of Harry Black pouring his coffee off the second level  of the Rockingham
Mall onto to the shoppers below. It happened when I asked him  the time and
he turned his wrist, the wrist of the hand holding his hot coffee.  I chipped
in with that story, and 'Drops' says, "Fuck, I knew I wasn't the  only
fucker who drops beverages on people." It's fun hearing the guy's stories  about
their fellow Merrimack's baseball players, and the trip to Boston, but
like with Chubby and those guys, I feel a little out of this conversation too.
I  certainly can't chip in with what I did this afternoon even though these
three  guys are gay. The reason being, obviously I don't want to flaunt the
three-way I  had with Jamie and Dougie in Robby's face. Plus Danny and
'Drops', while gay,  might not grasp Robby's and my version of an open
relationship.

We all go for  beer  refills needing to stand in lines at the half kegs
now. Because of that we get  in the shortest line and take whatever that tap
has to offer. This time it's the  Bud Light keg. Bud Light taste watery to me
after a couple  of cups of Iron  City beer. Back in our original spot near
the DJ, 'Drops' goes, "Oh, fuck,  Wait'll you hear this. Last week's snow
melted so my old man's at the country  club hitting some golf balls on the
practice range. Afterwards the funniest  thing happen in the club house. Dad's
putting stuff in his locker when the guy  across from him gets a call on his
cell's speaker phone. My old man hears a  lady's voice saying something
like, 'Oh, hi honey. I'm at the Bloomingdales  looking at a beautiful leather
coat. It's been reduced to two thousand dollars.'  The guy says, 'Wow, snap
that up,' and she's a coy one, adding, 'Um, since  you're in a good mood,
honey, um, I stopped by the Lexus dealership on the way  here and that new model
that I love so much finally came in yesterday. Someone's  already thinking
about buying it. Do you think...' The guy asks, "Yeah? How much  they asking
for it?' She's like, 'Ninety thousand, but it's got all the extras,  that
fuckin' car is loaded. Please, honey!' The fucking guy shrugs, mumbling,
'Okay, I promised you a new car, but I better see a smile on your face when I
get home.' "Drops' tells us, "My old man and another guy next to him are
looking  at each other like, 'What the fuck,' ya know? Then woman says, 'You're
a dear.  Last thing, I got a call from the real-estate broker. The house we
were looking  at dropped down to nine hundred thousand. I love that place.
What do you think?  Can we?' The man's blasé, 'Yeah, tell them they have a
deal'. The wife can't  thank the guy enough and they finally hangs up.
There's silence in the locker  room until the man asks, 'Anyone know who this cell
phone belongs  to?'


Well we get a good laugh out  of that, but it's obviously a joke and not
something 'Drops' father experienced.  This "Drops' guy's pretty funny and he
gets funnier the more we drink, or maybe  it just seems that way. We all get
another beer, but when that ones finished  Robby, Danny, and 'Drops' decide
to make their way to the buffet table at the  other end of the room. I
don't want to fight the crowd again so I light a  cigarette then, as I exhale a
lung full of smoke, getting some nasty looks from  a couple of girls, it
occurs to me that no one else in here is smoking. Huh,  maybe it has something
to do with the big sign I just noticed that says, 'NO  SMOKING ANY WHERE IN
THE BUILDING OR PREMISES'. Yeah, that's probably why I'm  the only person
out of five hundred who's smoking, so I drop the cigarette and  step on it
while heading over to the half kegs again. I get Iron City beer again  and
carry the cup to the front door where the bouncer's flirting with two girls  who
apparently don't have college IDs. I'm betting they get in anyway, but I
go,  "Excuse me, mister bouncer, can I leave and get back in without paying.
I'm  dying for a smoke." He has a stamp in his fingers, the kind you might
stamp  'PAID' on an invoice with, and without stopping his rap to the girls he
holds up  a stamp, I hold the back of my hand over to him, and he stamps it
with a red  'X'. As I head out the door I see another sign that reads, 'NO
ALCOHOLIC DRINKS  ALLOWED IN THE PARKING LOT' so I hold my full cup of beer
at my side, the one  opposite the bouncer, who's not paying any attention to
me anyway, and walk out  and around the corner over to where the Jeep is
parked in front of the dumpster,  blocking the 'NO PARKING' sign. Lots of
signs around the Knights Of Columbus  hall. There are maybe twenty-five people
scattered around the parking lot  disobeying the signs along with me as they
smoke and drink their beer. At least  one of them is smoking weed because
there's no mistaking that smell. Can't tell  which one though.


I'm beginning to notice the  dumpster stinks so I wander over to lean
against a wall dividing this parking  lot and a gas station next door. As I smoke
and drink I watch people coming in  and leaving the mixer, but mostly
coming in late. It's almost eleven and the  mixers over at midnight. The early
closing time was insisted upon by the  Knights. At least that's what I heard
someone inside tell someone else. Then I  get a glimpse at the top of
someone's head. That person's in a small group going  inside and I'd recognize that
buzz cut anywhere. It has to be Ryan, then I  recognize Rex walking between
Ryan and someone else. I'm guessing its fuckwad  Marty on the other side of
Ryan, if it is Ryan. There are two other guys with  those three taking up
the rear and after showing college ID there a discussion  and some laughing
from the bouncer. Then money's exchanges hands and in they go.  Hmmm. This
might be a good sign. The laughing I mean. Could it be that Ryan's  lie about
no sex between us worked and Marty believed him? Stepping on my  cigarette
butt I hustle over to the door, show my stamped hand, and go in  quickly. The
group I saw come in a minute ago has disappeared in the crowd.  Fuck! I
start doubting myself that it was Ryan because the only person out of  the five
guys in that group I recognized for sure was Rex, and now I'm not even
sure it was him. I've only seen him a few times. But dammit, the brief glance I
 had at the top of that one guy's head, the one in the middle, has to be
Ryan.


Wandering around  I'm  looking for Ryan or the guy I think is Ryan. I want
to know one way or the other  if it's him. I'm casually drinking my beer and
stopping now and then to bullshit  with guys I said hello to earlier, but
no Ryan. I see a guy facing away from me  about Ryan's size with a buzz cut,
but he has on a bright red shirt and I would  have noticed that outside.
There was no bright red shit among the five I saw  come in a few minutes ago,
but what if he had a coat on. Obviously he'd have a  coat on you nut. It's
cold out there. Then Tracy grabs my arm, saying, "Dylan,  you here alone?"
He's with his latest girlfriend who I say hi to, then, "No,  Trace. I'm with
some guys. They're getting  food." Tracy says, "This place  is a rip off,
dude. Twenty-five bucks to drink draft beer. How much did I charge  that last
keg night I had?" I go, "What was it, ten bucks?" He goes, 'Exactly!  Maybe I
need to raise my prices." I shrug, "There's the buffet and DJ that they
gotta pay, plus the rental fee for the hall. Ya know?" His girlfriend is
talking  to two other girls, so Tracy says in my ear. "Lets hook up as soon as I
can  sneak away from my date. Okay?"Then he looks over at his latest
girlfriend,  whispering to me, "She's on the rag tonight and I'm horny for you." I
frown,  "Where would we, um....?" He says, "I'll give you a quickie in the
back seat of  my car. You know which one it is, right?" I nod my head, but I'm
not sure about  this. I've got to resolve this Ryan question first or it'll
drive me nuts. Am I  seeing things or projecting what I want to see? I
don't know.  Tracy says,  "Give me fifteen minutes or so and I'll meet you at
the car. I parked illegally  in the gas station lot." He pats my shoulder
giving me a sexy grin, then a  shoulder squeeze, "You look so sexy tonight,
Dylan." Before I can say anything  he turns to the three girls and starts saying
something to them. He sure is  smooth with the girls, and me too actually.


Smelling the back of my hand  I'm thinking maybe a 'quickie' with Tracy
might be a good idea. My boyfriend  can't hold his booze and never could, so
he'll probably want to crash tonight.  Tomorrow morning he'll be ready to
boogie, but it's unlikely they'll be any  boogying between us tonight. And as
I'm thinking that, I see Ryan and my jaw  drops. Marty's holding a short leash
attached to a wide leather collar that's  around Ryan's neck. They're just
getting settle way over in the corner opposite  where Robby and his
teammates are. No way can Chubby see them because he's  sitting.The collar's so wide
it's  pressing Ryan's chin up so it seems as  though he's  looking at
something high on the wall he's facing. I make my  way over in that general
direction, which with the crowds of loud people is  easier said than done. He has
on big goofy sunglasses and what look like  pajamas. College kids will wear
pajamas bottoms to class sometimes. The bottoms  of Ryan's pajamas are
similar to sweat pants, but the top is a pajama top, no  mistaking it for
anything else. I'm close enough to a guy to hear him say to his  friend, "Guess
that asshole missed the Halloween party last October," and  there's some
laughing. The four guys around Ryan are laughing too, but not at  that
'Halloween' comment. Ryan's not even smiling, never mind laughing. They're  too far
away from me to hear what is being said where I am, but I can't stop  staring,
watching Marty pulling on the leash every minute or so jerking Ryan's  head
so his sunglasses slide down his nose. He doesn't push them up himself
though, one of the other guys does that for him with all of them laughing,
except Ryan. It's sick of course, but my dick twitches just the same imagining
me in Ryan's spot. I'm trying to adjust my tightening cock without being
obvious  about it and then I think of Willie on the Wildwood boardwalk. He was
in a much  more humiliating costume than Ryan's. Over the pajama top Ryan
has his jacket  on. The one I've seen him wear almost every day since the
weather's turned  cold.


Why the hell did the bouncer  let them bring Ryan in here like that in the
first place? And what was the  bouncer laughing about. I'm looking over the
crowd for Robby or Chubby figuring  they'll want to know of this latest
revolting situation Ryan's gotten himself  involved in. Too many people between
where I'm standing and those guys, so I  don't even see them. Maybe that's
best. Looking back at the side of Ryan's face  I'm thinking if he'd smile, or
laugh, or if he had a beer, or anything I might  think it wasn't any of my
business. No, that not true; I'd still make it my  business, it's just worst
that he's not doing any of those things. He's just  standing there looking
at a spot high on the wall and getting his head jerked  around every time
Marty yanks on his leash. I'll bet his hands are tied. How can  he let himself
be made to look like such a fool, such a loser? I'm inching  toward the
nasty group of five, mumbling, "Excuse me, sorry, excuse me," and I  get close
enough to hear what's being said. Rex is explaining to someone, "It's  a
frat initiation, that's all. Nah, no problem with the guy at the door, he
laughed. Thought it was funny, so no, we didn't have any problem getting in."
Then I hear others repeating this bullshit explanation of why Ryan's in this
condition. Marty's the center of attention for people in that corner of the
 room. College kids keep asking Marty questions about his 'pet'. "What is
it  anyway? Is it like Mickey Mouse's dog, Pluto. He's the one that stands
up,  right?" Marty's fifteen minutes of fame I guess. One of the guys in that
group,  who I don't know, is telling two girls, "Nah, he doesn't mind. He's
so fucking  high or weed he doesn't know where he's at," and just then
fuckwad jerks on  Ryan's leash hard, Ryan's sunglasses slide down his nose, and
his head gets  pulled around and I look right into his eyes. No recognition
in his eyes at all.  He looked right at me, right through me is more
accurate. Yeah, he does looked  totally stoned. The dumb fuck! Okay there nothing I
can do about it now, but I'm  pissed at Ryan and I hate Marty. I wish I
could do something about this, but  Ryan wouldn't know if I did. This calls for
some payback to fuckwad, and maybe  I'll also get Robby, Chubby, and Ryan's
friend from last year, Felix  what's-his-name, to have an intervention. Talk
some sense into Ryan, and I gotta  get him outta that dorm room too. Maybe
get him in with Freddie, who's without a  roommate presently.


Blowing out a long exhale, my  cheeks puffing out, I turn away unable to
watch anymore of this. The pathetic  condition Ryan's in and the high pitched
cackling and laughing from the four  guys he's with, obnoxious... it's
simply too much. Making my way back to the  opposite corner of the room where the
half kegs of beer sit on the bar, I'm  thinking about having a shot of
whiskey. After pushing through the crowds and  getting elbowed a few times, I'm
finally standing in line waiting my turn to  refill my cup, still wondering
what to do about Ryan, when, bam! Here's Tracy  grabbing my arm and pulling
me out of line, "Come on, Dylan!" It startles me and  I'm like, "What? Oh,
Tracy, wha...?" He grins, "Come on, lets check out the  backseat of my car.
We'll make it fast, buddy, nobody will even know we're  gone." Out the door
in a flash, Tracy gets his hand stamped, then says to me,  "You're kind of
addictive, dude. Ha ha, it's crazy but I find myself thinking  about us doing
it, like all the time. When I'm in class too, and I need to tell  myself to
get a fucking grip! Ha ha, I'm like some silly fuckin' teeny bopper  with a
crush on a cutie in a boy band, heh heh. You aren't part of a boy band by
any chance?" I'm a little drunk and annoyed, but Tracy is so sexy and upbeat
I  have to smile. Plus I need to get my mind off Ryan. Looking at Tracy and
listen  to his cheerful banter is just what I need about now.


Tracy talks fast with his  cute lips grinning and his ponytail bouncing a
little. He says," I probably  shouldn't admit to you how hung-up I am on you.
Shit, you'll worry I might start  stalking you. Ha ha, and maybe I will,
you hottie." Everything he says, he says  like he sees the absurd humor in it.
He's being self deprecating, but in a  casually confident sort of way. It's
a bit flattering too. I look at his  bouncing stubby ponytail and his
attractive face, always with his sexy grin on  it, and ask, "What about your
girlfriend?" He laughs again, "Oh man! If it's a  choice between you and her,
that's no contest. And anyway, I told ya she's on  the rag tonight." We're at
the dividing wall between the mixer and the gas  station when he says, "Um,
I saw your boyfriend, Rob, inside. I don't want you  to get in trouble?" He
stops us, "Will this get him pissed off at you? He  doesn't have to  even
know you're gone. What do you say, Dylan? It's up to  you." I say, "Lets
chance it, Tracy," and he starts us walking again, saying,  "We're so fucking
naughty, Dylan, heh heh. We're only young once though, right?"  Actually that's
part of my philosophy regarding side sex. Enjoy it while you  can, plus
this little sexual interlude should put me back into a partying frame  of mind.
I'm making Ryan's my mission, but not until tomorrow. If there was
anything constructive I could do now I do it. I'm afraid anything I could try
would just draw more attention to Ryan, and he's stoned anyway so fuck  it.


Tracy unlocks his new car and  we scramble in the back seat. He says, "My
dick's almost hard from walking over  here with you thinking about fucking
you. You're something, you know that?"  We're sitting on the seat with me
pulling my pants down to my knees, as I  mumble, "Thanks, I think. It sounded
flattering anyway." He laughs, "It was a  simple statement of fact. You must
know how sexy you are. There's something so  attractive about the way you
react to sex, like it's your first time. I fuck  girls and it's like, 'Ho hum',
to them." He's got his dick out through his fly,  squeezing it a little, as
he adds, "You make me feel like the world's  hottest stub when I fuck you.
Somehow you've retained a certain innocents about  sex, although you must
have a lot of it." I mumble, "I don't have as much sex as  everyone seems to
think I have." He's grinning at me, "Whatever, Dylan, I  basically only care
about the sex I have with you, not the sex you have with  whoever. I'm
telling you our sex is as good or better than any sex I've ever  had." He's got
his hand behind my head now gently pulling it down towards his  lap, asking,
"Would you do me the favor of sucking my cock so I've got a proper  boner to
stick up your awesome rear end?"


Guess that's it for our chit  chat. Taking his cock between my fingers, I
lick the head and smell the scent  coming off it, then two fingers go into
his open fly pulling out his nuts. Tracy  moves around on the seat a little,
his hand still at the back of my head. I hear  him take a deep breath making
me wonder if maybe the last time he fucked me was  the last fuck Tracy's
had. He does seem quite horny. I have this idea of him as  being this Don Juan
type guy who's used to having sex with whoever he chooses,  but he probably
isn't like that at all. He apparently appreciates sex the way I  do and he
gets excited about it when it works out the way he hoped it would.  Licking
the top of his balls I get a head full of his erotic natural scent. He's
clean too, so there's no stale aspect to his scent. It's quite a nice scent
with  a youthful boyish accent to it. I need to remind myself Tracy's my age
even  though although I've always thought of him as older and sort of
sophisticated...  and much more mature than me. He's in my graduating class, but
he's always seems  older and very sure of himself, but without a touch of
arrogance. He fuck's  dominantly without acting dominant somehow. That's quite an
attractive  combination from my point of view. Maybe it's all an act
though, and he has all  the insecurities I have. If he does, he covers them up
better than  me.


The head of his cock goes in  my mouth, my lips suck on it and my tongue
licks over it repeatedly. It firms up  tighter right away. The hand behind my
head slides down to lightly squeeze the  back of my neck while the palm of
his other hand rubs from my forehead back over  my head. He takes another
deep breath with his hips lifting, pushing his groin  up before a quiet murmur
of contentment. Dropping my head down on his cock I  take four inches of the
hard shaft into my mouth, then slowly press down further  until his cock's
head slides past the gag reflex area in my throat. Tracy drops  both his
hands to the seat lifting his ass off the seat,  moaning, "Aaaah,  mmm, oooh
jeez yeah." Bobbing my head on his boner it goes in my throat, then  out, in
my throat, then out and then his hand goes under my chin lifting my head  off
his cock. With my face a few inches above his cock there's a combination
saliva/precum string connecting his pee slit with my lips, shiny in the night
 security lights of the gas station. It breaks off and drops onto his
slippery  shiny cock. Tracy grunts again, then a hand goes in his pocket coming
out with a  condom. I sit up looking at him. He swallows nosily, mumbling, "I
almost lost it  there for a second, Dylan. Whoa, you give good head!"


He rips the condom package  open with his teeth, and holding the tip out
away from the head, he rolls that  thin lubricated latex sheath down his
boner. Easy to do with his boner very hard  and pointing straight up. It rolls
down to his groin leaving the top loose so it  can catch the semen that
shortly will be shooting up from his balls and out the  head of his cock.  He
says, "This feels so good, Dylan. Jesus I'm as hard  as I've ever been." He
stares at me, then asks, "Can I kiss you?" I nod my head,  and our lips come
together. Nice kiss with some tongue, maybe a twenty seconds  kiss before our
lips make a lip-smacking sound when they part. He licks his  lips,  "I've
ever kissed another guy. I mean other than you. Don't know why  except I didn't
think guys kissed, for some stupid reason." I'm looking at him  realizing
for the first time I've overestimated his worldly experience with sex.  He's
always been so cool and casual about everything, like he's been there, done
that, but he apparently hasn't. Rubbing my nose with the back of my hand
and  then smelling it, I'm still staring at Tracy. He asks, "Why so quiet
tonight,  Dylan?" I shrug, then mutter, 'I don't know. We're usually done our
sex by now,  so I'm surprised I guess." He smiles. mumbling, "You're so
fucking cute it's  like crazy," and he leans in for another kiss and when his lips
slide off mine,  he murmurs, "You really turn me on, it's... ha ha, I don't
know what it is  exactly, it's everything. Let's just do it before I make a
bigger fool of  myself."


He gets up on the seat, as I  ask, "Doggie style?" and he takes another
deep breath nodding his head and  sounding breathless when he says, "Yeah,
doggy style." I get on my hands and  knees. He moves over on his knees and
pushes the head of his cock right in past  everything. My head goes back as he
mutters, "Sorry, I'm feeling really fucking  randy tonight." Gripping my hips
with both hands he steadily pushes his hard  cock up my ass spreading the
walls of my rectum and the lips of anus. It feels  like the shaft gets wider
with each inch that goes up my ass. It's very tight  and hurts a little, but
feels really good too. The lube on the condom is a huge  help. I gave a
thought to telling him he didn't need the condom, but somehow I  didn't think
he'd do it bareback. Don't know why I think that, but I do. Lots of  deep
breaths from Tracy as his groin is now tightly against my buttocks. He  leans
against me, both his hands rubbing up my side, "Nice bod, Dylan. Nice
everything, like I already said." I'm taking fast shallow breaths waiting for my
ass to stop hurting. It doesn't take long for the hurt to fade away and I can
 take a deep breath of my own, savoring the feeling inside me. So filled
up, and  the sensations in my rectum are beginning to get my attention in a
most  delicious way. First there's the signals from my prostate and then my
anus  begins sending me it's own set of sexual pleasure signals, so I squirm
pushing  back at him, moaning, "Mmmm, Tracy, feels good. Nice cock, dude,"
then my back  arches a little and I bite on my bottom lips as he begins
pulling his hard cock  out. With a quiet murmur he pushes it back up my ass sort
of slowly and then  leans on me again, grunting and asking, "Feel okay,
Dylan?" He's rubbing his  hands over my butt cheeks, then squeezes them as I
manage to say, "Uh huh,"  then, "Mmmmm, yeah, it feels really good."


Holding onto my hips he  begins moving his, and quiet, "Slap, slap, slap,
slap," flesh against flesh  sounds echo off the windows in the car along with
Tracy's quiet moans, "Umm,  ummm, ummm, ummm." The sounds of anal fucking
accompanying each penetration. All  the wonderful sensations of fucking begin
whispering pleasure signals to my  brain and they build and build as Tracy
keeps up his steady thrusting. Such hot  sensations for four or five
minutes, but not the all out assault of the first  two times we fucked standing up.
It's like Tracy wants to draw out the pleasure  for longer than our usual
four minute desperate rush to climax. Either way I'm  good with it. My cock's
very hard and feeling good, no hurt inside me, just the  sexual sensations
of fucking that are both luscious and indescribable. The lips  of my asshole
are beginning to reach that almost unbearable level of sexual  pleasure
I've experienced many times and my prostate is already there as I'm  starting
to push back at his thrust grunting and making whining sounds at my
approaching climax.  Unknown minutes later it's like I need to climax more  than
anything in the world, as I'm grunting, "Aah, aah, aah, ooh, ooh, Tracy,  mmm,
faster, harder." My eyes close and I grimace, groaning and moaning at the
intense arousal I'm feeling. And, yes, now Tracy's getting wilder with his
thrusting as he grunts and moans along with me. Oh fuck it feels so good! My
cock tightens up further with the constant, "Slap, slap, slap, slap," of
Tracy  slamming into me. My boner begins moving away from my stomach until
it's  pointing straight down, throbbing with sexual pleasure, the stimulation
inside  me quickly approaching the overwhelming level where I can't
distinguish the  pleasure coming from my cock, rectum, prostate or anus because
they've combined  into this immense sensation of exquisite pleasure... and, here
comes my orgasm  at breakneck speed. It'll be a fifteen or twenty second
buildup that I can  barely believe, and then the instance of climax when
everything in my body shuts  down to absorb that point of light, that singular
blast of pleasure like a mini  big bang when the universe expanded millions of
light years in a fraction of a  second. That's how fast the pleasure of
climax spreads all over me from my hair  to my toes and everywhere in between.


It's coming as I hold my  breath. Tracy's desperate himself now as his arm
goes around the front of my  neck pulling me up to him, my back against his
chest with his hips flying and  his boner ramming up my ass like a piston.
My back arches, lights explodes in my  brain as I squeal, squirming against
Tracy,  thrusting my hips and out  flies a long string of creamy cum from my
quivering cock, spattering against the  side window of his car. My cock
doesn't move, it's harder than any bone in my  body. I'm shivering and gasping
before another violent hump from Tracy and a  shorter string of cum flies out
of my cock. Tracy falls forward groaning, and as  I lay on the seat now, he
humps his cock up my ass blowing out gasping breaths  along with sprays of
his saliva. Sensations are sizzling through my body and  they seem to
reorganize themselves back to when the 'big bang' occurred, all  around my groin
area and my ass. Then they fade away, and like always a  wonderful peaceful
feeling swarms over me, and that leads to a feeling of  exhaustion for a few
seconds. Then a satisfied relaxation of the previously hot  bursts of
sensations. Calmness from the nerve ending in my ass and penis  previously
responsible for the volcanic eruption of pleasure. A quiet, "Ooooh,  mmm," from me.
Tracy's laying on my back breathing deeply with his fast beating  heart
thumping against my spine.


After laying together a few  seconds, Tracy lifts off me pulling his cock
from my ass. I go, "Oooh, mmm," and  then do a push up as I feel something
soft against my butt cheeks. Tracy says,  "Let me wipe the lube off you ass,
Dylan. I don't want to stain the leather  seats." I mumble, "That's practical
of you, Trace." He laughs, "Sorry, but ya  know, a lubricant stain back
here might give someone reason to pause to wonder  how it got here." When he's
wiped my ass he pulls my pants up for me and pats my  ass. We both flop
around sitting up and he leans across me wiping my cum off the  side window,
muttering, "I'll clean it good tomorrow. I murmur, "That was hot as  usual,
Tracy." He goes, "Ah yes, but an understatement for sure." He sits back,
looking at me, "Um, Dylan, what are we doing here. Is this leading to something
between us, do ya think?" I take a deep breath, "I don't know. We're doing
buddy-sex, what else could it be?" He shrugs, "Could it ever be more than
that  do ya think? I mean, do you think it might be more than buddy sex
someday?" I  look at him, asking, "Whaddaya mean? Do you want a boyfriend?" He
shrugs again,  not looking at me, "I don't know, Dylan. I've got these crazy
feelings for you  like I've never been close to having with the other guys
I've fucked." Hmmm, I'm  curious, "How many other, um, guys have you done it
with?" He shrugs, saying,  "Not many. Only two before you. I thought I was
over that phrase of my life.  It's not like I go around fucking every guy I can
convince to do it. I was  sweating bullets last week working up the balls
to ask you." It didn't seem like  that. He seemed almost blasé about it. He's
saying, "First kid I did it with was  someone I didn't even like and he
didn't like me. A bad ass kid in ninth grade.  We were both in ninth grade, and
we were both curious. I'm not even sure how we  got around to bringing it
up. Huh, it felt really good though, but he kicked the  shit out of me
afterward. Didn't so much as look at me for like six weeks, then  one day he
wanted me to fuck him again." I ask, "Did you?" He laughs, "Yeah. If  I didn't
he'd beat me up again. We did it probably a dozen times total. He only  beat
me up the first time, but we never became friends. That was at the private
middle school I attended."


We're both silent for a bit,  then I ask, "Who's the second guy you
fucked?" He goes, "It was two years ago.  We were both seniors in high school. A
different private school though. He was  my roommate actually, and I had this
wicked crush on him. He said I was his best  friend and one night we'd
smuggled a pint of VO into the room and drank it.  He was drunk when he said the
best friends thing. I asked him then if he'd do it  with me. I had to talk
him into it because he swore he was straight. He gave in,  but it didn't go
well at all. He screamed in pain. We pretended nothing happened  next
morning. It was weird. A few weeks later, without any booze, he said he'd  try it
again. I went really slow, and with lots and lots of lube helping, it  went
better. After that we did it once or twice a week until graduation." Huh. I
ask, "Were you going out with girls at the time?" He barks out a laugh,
"Yeah,  that's the odd part. Me and my roommate, Willie, we were both going
steady with  girls all senior year. We double dated all the time. The girls
didn't have a  clue me and Willie were fucking. Probably because we were fucking
them.  Sometimes I'd be in the front seat and Willie in the back, both of
us fucking  away. Weird times for sure." I know it's a different Willie, but
just to be  sure, I ask, "What's Willie's last name?" He says, "Walker,
Willie Walker the  alliterative roommate. His father was a brain surgeon." I go,
"Huh, a brain  surgeon." Tracy says, "You wanna do it again right now?" I
say, "No thanks, but  I hope we can do it again real soon." He gives my side
a hug, then mutters, "One  more kiss, okay?" I turn my head to him and Tracy
kisses me like we're lovers.  I'm thinking, "Oh, this is interesting. Man,
I didn't expect Tracy to be this  way at all. I gotta think about this. I'm
not feeling any special hot's for him  other than he's really good at quick
hot fuck. Huh!


We get out straightening our  clothes looking at each other. Tracy says,
"Sorry if I'm coming on a little  strong, Dylan. I feel like I'm making an ass
of myself, but I've got this little  thing for you that will probably pass,
but currently it's on my mind a lot. I'm  no stalker though, so don't
worry, okay?" He seems unsure of himself and it's  the first time I ever had that
thought about Tracy. I go, "Hey, we're cool. It's  all good, Trace. Um, do
you want to go back in together, or...?" He says, "No,  we better not. We
came out for a smoke if anyone asks." I nod, "Got 'cha," and  walk toward the
front door as Marty's coming out. He's first, jerking Ryan's  leash so hard
Ryan stumbles and almost falls in his face. I can now see that  Ryan's hands
are handcuffed in front with the chain part of the cuffs looped  through
his belt so he can't raise his hands. He still looks stoned too. Again  my
dick tightens up and I ask myself, 'Are you fucking crazy?! That isn't hot,
it's sick.' The three guys they arrived with follow them out laughing about
something. I hear one of them say, "Gilmore, you've got a set of nuts on you,
 dude." Fuckwad Marty says, "I told you I'd do it." I assume they're
referring to  dragging Ryan to the mixer like a dog. Huh, Gilmore. That's the
first time I've  heard Marty's last name. That's kinda weird, now that I think
about it. The five  of them go around the other side of the building, so
obviously they parked on  the street. The bouncer's sitting on his stool when I
come up and he just nods  at me. He doesn't even check that my hand is
stamped. Inside I see Robby and his  teammates back at the spot we stood at
before. Robby smiles at me, "There you  are," and I mumbling, "Yep, here I am.
Just had a smoke outside." He laughs  telling me about 'Drops' dropping his
overloaded paper plate of food. I chuckles  as 'Drops' says, "I fucking did
that on purpose!" They yuck it up as I glance  over seeing Cubby's table
laughing at something. Everyone is carefree and  laughing it up, while poor
Ryan's being humiliated without him even knowing it.  Can a person be humiliated
if they aren't aware of it? Wait a minute, there are  two half full pitchers
of beer on Cubby's table. The only two pitchers in the  whole place. Ha ha!
Who did Chubby con into coming up with those  pitchers?




to be continued... Donny Mumford    thinat20@yahoo.com






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



I have had some books published and they are  available on Amazon .
Actually one book and one short story. The short  story is titled "Concealed Agony
- Gay Romance" (and I didn't pick  that title.) Read the 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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