Date: Sun, 8 Mar 2015 13:24:58 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR Chapter  42

DYLAN'S  SOPHOMORE YEAR


Chapter  42


by  Donny Mumford



Ryan and me are outside his dormitory after our last class Monday. He's
done his mandatory 'check in' with his roommate and from the telltale cum
signs  at the corners of Ryan's lips it appears sucking Marty's cock was part of
the  so-called 'check in' process. Now that he has the okay from Marty to
lift  weights with us guys, Ryan asks me if he and I might sneak in a little
sexy time  before the lifting this afternoon. Of course I'd like that, but I
have an even  more important matter on my mind at the moment. I tell him,
"To be honest with  you, what's mostly on my mind is your unhealthy
relationship with Marty. I'm  worried about you. You're letting him abuse you like
others have done in the  past and I'm suggesting ya might want to pump the
breaks on that kind of  relationship.  Serious submissive relationships have
never worked out for  you in the past, so why do you expect it will this
time?" Ryan looks at me  rubbing across his mouth with the back of his hand.
After a pause, he mumbles,  "Oh, are you going to save me from Marty like you
saved your friend from his  dominant 'master' in Wildwood that time?" I'll
interpret that as sarcasm, but I  answer directly, "Yeah, I am. That's exactly
what I'm going to do." He grins at  me, "You're serious, aren't you? That's
sweet, Dylan, really. How many times  have I told you you're the best friend
I've ever had? A hundred times maybe?  Well you are and I love you, but
Marty's not being especially abusive, at least  not in ways I can't handle.
Yes, Saturday night was reckless behavior and he's  the first one to admit
that. We smoked too much weed, pure and simple." Ryan's  in denial so my eyes
are gazing up at the sky, slowly shaking my head, clearly  exasperated at his
whistling past the graveyard rationalization. He pats my  shoulder, quietly
saying, "I'm fine, seriously. Come on, Dylan, I'll drive us to  the
apartment. We can get the weights out so we're ready to start when Rob gets  back
from watching himself on videos." We start walking as he adds, "Personally  I
think he's got an almost perfect swing as it is, but I guess he wants it to
be  even better."


I'm walking beside him without commenting on anything he says because I'm
pissed off and afraid I'll say something hurtful. Words can hurt and they're
 hard to take back. It's obvious to me Ryan can't see that he's going right
down  the path he's traveled a number of times before. He's going to let
the fuckwad  do the same things other dominant asshole's have done to him.
They start off  with some mild BDSM shit, and then the minute Ryan's used to
that level, they  take it up a notch, and this process is repeated again and
again until Ryan's  become the 'master's' sex slave, or pet poodle, or
whatever. The fact is Ryan's  ignoring the handwriting on the wall and it's
frustrating beyond belief.  Complicating matters is the jealousy factor. My
criticism of the situation  between those two is scuffed at as me being jealous of
Ryan's interest in his  roommate. Yeah, I am jealous, but that's not the
point. Me being jealous, or not  being jealous, doesn't change the fact Ryan's
heading for yet another crash  landing. I don't think he's stupid, but he
is when it comes to being submissive  to a dominant partner, and it's not
just during sex, he's submissive to a fault.  Submissive during sex and all the
times in between the sex as well.

When we're inside his Mini, Ryan quietly asks, "Are  you giving me the
silent treatment, Dylan? Listen, I hate that I've disappointed  you, but I can't
change my nature. I'm addicted to dominant gay guys who treat  me roughly
and humiliate me at times. It gets me sexually turned-on, I readily  admit
it." Looking straight ahead, I mutter, "Humiliate you like that asswipe  did
Saturday night, is that what you mean?" and he says, "No, not like that
because that could have gotten us thrown out of college. Our behavior shouldn't
hurt others or ourselves. You taught me that, and Saturday night we could
have  hurt ourselves. It was foolish and irresponsible behavior. And I should
admit  that earlier today with you and Rob I was pretending Saturday night
was no big  deal, but that was a lie. It was a very big deal and when I saw
those pictures  of myself online I cried, hating on myself. And you know
what my first thought  was? My very first thought was: 'What will Dylan think
of me?' Honest to God  that was my first thought. Not what would mom and dad
think if they saw those  pictures, not that they will, but what you'd
think." I take a deep breath, then  look at him, asking, "If that's true why won't
you listen to me and try making  some changes in your life?" He starts the
Mini's engine, mumbling, "It's not  that I wouldn't like to, but it's not
that easy to do." I go, "I'll help you,"  he mutters, "You would if you could,
but I don't think you can. I don't think  anybody can." I'm like, "I know
someone who can help you." He looks at me,  "Who?" and I point at him, "You,
that's who." He goes, "Ha!" and drives us off  campus onto route 114 west.
What Ryan actually needs is about ten psychiatrists  working with him around
the clock for a couple of years to find out why he  thinks he needs to be
punished. That seems to be want he wants... to be  punished. If he feels he
deserves being abused I say, balls to that!  It's  less than a mile drive
before he pulls into the Royal Crest Estates. That's a  huge misnomer by the
way, the pretentious Estates part of the name I mean; the  complex is all
apartments with zero estates.


Ryan parks near the back door of my apartment building with me glancing
around. I'm astonished at all the available parking spots this afternoon. Of
course none of them will be available the next time I'm the driver looking
for a  parking spot. It's mysterious how that works but I'm resigned to it by
now. I've  got buzzard's luck when it comes to parking spots. We're walking
towards the  back door, with me asking, "Do you even like your roommate?"
He shrugs, "Um, ha  ha, I guess I don't. I tried to, but right from the start
it was awkward with  Marty. I told you about it the first week we were back
at college, but then  about the third day he grabbed my ponytail, pulled my
head back hard, and told  me to suck his cock. It was a slippery slope from
then on and I slid down it  willingly. Now I wish I hadn't, but it was
probably inevitable anyway." I punch  in the code to the lock, the back door
clicks open, and inside we go. Walking up  the steps Ryan's telling me, "As you
know, Marty and I were emailing during the  summer, both looking for
roommates. We both knew the other was gay and I knew  before agreeing to be his
roommate he was mostly the dominant type, and he knew  me to be the opposite.
It seemed a good roommate match at the time, although I'm  not so sure now."
Unlocking the apartment's front door, I ask, "Why didn't he  room with that
turd, Rex. They went to high school together, didn't they?"  Inside I drop
Robby's and my backpacks on the sofa. Ryan drops his, saying,  "Yeah, they
did, but they're both dominant and they were looking for gay  submissive guys
to be their roommates. Rex's roommate didn't work out so they  changed
roommates the first week. Now his roommate's not even gay, never mind
submissive, so Rex spends a lot of time in our room." I ask, "Three-ways, huh?"  and
Ryan mumbles, "I'd rather not talk about that. I'm sorry, but it's personal
and it'd only piss you off more if I tell you about it." Well, that tells
me all  I need to know. Ryan's obviously the submissive sex toy for both
Marty and Rex.  They probably take turns fucking him and humiliating him. I
suppose he's twice  as happy. Now I'm being sarcastic, but I keep my sarcasm to
myself.


We don't take off our coats because we're going right out on the balcony
for cigarettes. Ryan has to bum one off me because he has none of his own;
his  'master' doesn't allowed Ryan to smoke cigarettes or have them on his
person.  Smoking in silence for a couple of minutes I realize I'm sort of tired
of this  whole Ryan/Marty drama, so I think of something else. In the
meantime Ryan  exhales a lot of smoke mixed with his frozen breath on this cold
December day,  and quietly says something I don't pick up on, "Okay, Dylan,
you're probably  right. I should try breaking off with Marty, but where would
I go? It's too late  for the housing office to be switching roommates." I'm
smelling the back of my  hand grinning to myself about this stupid habit I
picked up from Dougie  Hamilton. And why should I worry about Ryan so much
when I've got some hot  side-sex buddies named Dougie and Jamie, plus Tracy
now too. That's basically  enough side-sex to skimp by on. One thing's for
damn sure though, it's smokin'  hot sex in the freshman's dorm room. And I
mean literally smoking hot  considering all the cigarettes they smoke during
sex and that industrial  strength space heater pouring out heat. Plus, Tracy's
hot fast fuck's are sexy  and hot too. Doing it hot and heavy like that is
different and, like I said,  it's uber hot! Ryan says, "Dylan!" I look over,
and he says, "Did you hear what  I said? I said I should probably think
about maybe trying to  break it off  with Marty." I mumble, "You should
probably try to think about maybe breaking it off? That's not a very  definitive
statement." he goes, "Well, how can I be definitive when I won't have  a place
to sleep if I walk out on Marty?"


I'm looking at him still trying to get my head around this concession in
Ryan's thinking. It's certainly not a very strong statement of fact, but it's
a  start anyway. He repeats himself, "I'd need another place to stay if I
do that.  Could I move in here?" I look startled, "What? Move in here? Um,
you mean sleep  on the couch?" He shrugs, "I don't know, probably not. Oh
fuck, any move out of  my dorm will get Marty royally pissed off at me and I
don't know what he'd do.  He has a bad temper." I ask, "Are you afraid of him?"
He nods his head, "Yeah,  kinda, by now I am." Putting my arm across his
shoulders I give him a hug and he  drops his cigarette butt on the balcony
floor and steps on it; then, glancing at  me from the corner of his eyes he
steps around in front of me for a tight  two-arms hug. I drop my butt too and
hug him back. The top of his head is just  below my eyes. His forehead
against my nose and he's smelling awesome. His  personal scent is ridiculously
arousing to me. It's grown on me over the months  and has been known to give me
a boner at times, like right now. His scent plus  the feel of his small
very tight body and his scraggily beard against my cheek  makes him seem very
sexy to me. Actually it's surprising I still get so easily  aroused by him
after the ups and downs our relationship has endured this year.  One of his
eyeglasses feel cold against my cheek as my hand rubs up his back and  into
his buzz cut hair on the back of his head, I'm thinking he's such a nice
little bundle to hug. I feel a wet teardrop on my face, hmmm? Ryan's always been
 very emotional. I kiss his forehead, and as we stand here saying nothing
I'm  trying to think what to do or say next. Something encouraging.


Then I remember Freddie Holmes. How'd I forget him? Idiot! I say, "Oh,
Ryan, I've got the perfect roommate for you to move in with. Don't know why it
didn't occur to me instantly. That'll be no problem in that regard and, um,
well  I'm proud of you for finally considering getting away from that
assho..., um,  roommate of yours." He lets go of me wiping his eyes with the
palms of his  hands, mumbling, I probably don't have the balls to break off with
Marty anyway.  Who am I kidding?" I say, "You need motivation of some
kind." We go inside and  take our coats off, "What kind of motivation, Dylan? And
oh man, I can't believe  I'm even thinking about this." I'm like, "No, it's
good you're thinking about  doing something before it gets worse." He
shrugs, "Sure, when I'm with you it  seems possible that I might be able to break
up with him, but when he's with me  I know I won't have the balls to do it.
That's a fact even if I kinda agree with  you that I probably should end
it." Well, this is a start even though he's still  using the words 'maybe' and
'probably' way too often. Hmmm, but how to proceed?  I go, "You needs
motivation, huh. Well, is there something that you want badly  enough that if you
could have that special something you'd have the willpower,  the fortitude
to make a break from him?" He plops down in an armchair taking a  deep
breath, then mumbling, "Whaddaya mean?" I say, "Something you want that  would
make it worthwhile putting up with his tantrum when you tell him it's  over."
He shrugs, "I can't think of anything, unless..." I'm like, "Yes, unless
what?" He shakes his head, "Never mind, that wouldn't... no, never mind. I
can't  think of anything, Dylan." I'm like, "You just did. What was it?" He's
pushing  his little eyeglasses up his cute nose, which he does even if his
glasses  haven't slid down his nose. It's become this cute little
idiosyncrasy of  his and makes me want to kiss him right on his sexy lips and tell him
everything's going to be alright. It's not going to be alright though, not
unless he changes the direction he's going in with Marty. Then as he looks
straight ahead, he says real fast, "If you'd join me being my twin
submissive  boy for Marty one time, it'd be worth putting up with Marty bullshit
when I tell  him it's over. That's my favorite fantasy, you and me together
being dominated  by the same dominant person. Sharing the experience with you
would elevated for  me to new levels of sexiness. After that I'd tell him,
with you there, it's over  between him and me. It might lead to a physical
fight, but with the two of us he  wouldn't have a chance." Huh! Talk about an
unexpected slap in the face. He sees  I'm speechless, "It's just a fantasy I
have, and you insisted I tell you,  Dylan."

I am actually speechless for the moment, then I mutter, "Surely you  jest,"
and still not looking at me, he mumbles, "I know, it's a terrible idea  but
you wanted to hear it. You  helping me break away from him by doing  that
with Marty would be motivation enough for me to actually breakup with him
for good. It's all I can think of." I say, "Think harder." He looks at me now,
 "I don't seriously expect you to do it. I've mentioned this same insane
fantasy  to you two or three times before." I say, "Yeah you did, and I
assumed it was a  random fantasy, which it'll remain. I'm willing to do a lot of
things for you,  Ryan, but not that. Sorry." He goes, "I know and it's okay,
I wouldn't expect  you to do it, and even if you lost your mind and agreed
to do it, Marty probably  wouldn't do it anyway. He has an irrational dislike
for you." I go, "I'm crushed  hearing that." He goes, "Yeah well, he got
pissed-off at me when I told him I  loved you and that you're by far the best
friend and nicest person I've ever  known." I mutter, "Can't see why that
would piss him off," and Ryan blurts out a  laugh, mumbling, "Maybe he's
overly sensitive." We both chuckle, then Ryan asks,  "Anyway, now I'm at least
thinking about putting an end to this thing with  Marty, so maybe you will
save me after all, Dylan. Um, but for now though, do we  have time for quick
sex?" I look at my watch, "I don't think so. Um, I'm not  sure when Chubby
will be coming through the front door." He goes, "You could  text him. We know
Rob won't be here for another twenty minutes at the earliest."  Nodding my
head I text Chubby and he text back that he's in class with a half  hour to
go, then he'll be coming straight here. I knew that already, jeez. I  know
his schedule, but I'm not thinking straight at the moment. And the size of
the balls on Chubby! My ultra cool brother texts me in the middle of class...
ha  ha. Love that boy.

When I tell Ryan that Chubby won't be here for thirty-five minutes at the
earliest he gets a big smile on his face, saying, "Okay then, do you wanna
do it  with me?" I take a deep breath, nodding my head, "You know I do, Ryan.
I've  never made a secret of the fact I've got the hot's for you, and I've
had this  thing for you almost from our first lunch together." He looks like
he's going to  tear up again. He sucks on his lips nodding his head, then
goes, "You can't  imagine how good that makes me feel, Dylan. Thank you for
telling me that." I  nod at him, mumbling, "Yeah, no problem," and then we're
hugging again rubbing  our faces together, his glasses going cockeyed. He
takes them off and holds them  behind him as out lips come together for one
of Ryan's incomparable and  indescribable hot sexy kisses. As we kiss he's
kneading my butt cheeks with his  free hand while humping gently against my
package. A minute of this raises a  hard boner in my pants that's painfully
pushed it's way through the opening of  my boxer shorts and the head is
rubbing against the zipper of my jeans. I need  to move my hips back and reach
down to push my hand inside my jeans moving my  boner to the side. Ryan's lips
slide off mine, and with his lips against my  cheek, he says, "Take it out."
Said with that little touch of authority that  excites me. I unzip my fly
and my boner pops out. Ryan takes it in his fist like  a six inch leash and
pulls me towards my bedroom, saying, "Take your sweatshirt  off." Taking fast
tiny steps to keep up with him, I pull my sweatshirt over my  head and drop
it on my bedroom floor. Ryan lets go of my throbbing boner, closes  and
locks the door, and then unbuttoning his shirt, telling me,"The tee-shirt
comes off too." Wetting my lips, I pull my tee-shirt over my head and drop it on
 my sweatshirt.


"Pull your pants down," and as I do that, Ryan's pulling his down. Our
bare chests and groins come together with our arms around each other and our
mouths sucking and licking and kissing. His scent is swarming around in my
brain  as we suck lips and slide our tongues together. He's the world champion
 make-out, the best I've experienced and I've made-out with a lot of guys
around  my age. I'm soon doing low moans of arousal as our bare chests and
groins squirm  together and our hands rub each other's backs, buttocks, and
the back of our  heads. The feel of his lips and what he does with them is so
sexy I get wild  with desire. I don't know what it is exactly, but it's so
sexually arousing when  he sucks my top lip between both his lips that it
causes a drool of precum to  ooze from my cock. I feel his long cock boning up
tightly against my belly right  next to my boner. It feels like a
skin-coated wooden rod that's against me,  pressed between us as we suck mouths. A
precum wetness on my belly now, this  time from Ryan's cock. The head of his
boner is above the head of mine. Yeah,  even though Ryan's shorter than me his
cock extends up slightly further than  mine and that plus his short
scraggily beard against my hairless face creates a  submissiveness in me as we
continue our foreplay. It's such an awesome  sensation. I grovel against his
naked torso while moaning into his mouth with my  eyes closed and Ryan's scent
is all I can smell. His hands grip my butt cheeks  and then a finger rubs
over my anus before pushes in as I groan and go up on my  toes, leaning into
his hard little body. His finger goes in further and then  another finger and
they both rub my prostate. My lips slide across his cheek,  through his
whiskers and my head drops down, my forehead resting on his shoulder  while
delicious sensations of being dominated swarm around in my mind making my  cock
tighten up harder. In it's tightness my cock leans forward against Ryan's
stomach as he continues his relentless fucking of  my ass with two fingers.
His fingers going in and out four or five times sliding over my prostate
and  then rubbing it for fifteen seconds or so as more precum drools from my
cock,  first wetting Ryan's belly before running down the shaft of my boner
to pool on  my scrotum. The side of my forehead is against the side of his
chin, his  soft baby whiskers tickling so sexily while I moan quietly
squirming against his  body.

Ryan gasps, pulls his fingers from my ass and turns me around, pushing
roughly at the back of my head,  muttering, "Bend the fuck over." I do and  my
hard boner pokes straight out from my body dripping precum. My hands rest on
 my thighs, my ass held up for mounting, my knees bent slightly so my ass
and  Ryan's boner are at the same height. The wet head of that eight inch
boner with  the sweet head touches my anus making me moan and my shoulders
shudder. He  pushes the head in past my sphincter as my back arches and I go,
"Mmmm, aaah,  aah, yeaaah, Ryan." Slapping my ass a few times hard, he then
wraps his arms  around my belly and slowly pulls me back onto his long boner,
the side of his  face against my back and his buzz cut hairs on top of his
head tickling the back  of my neck. He's touching as much of my body as he
can, the front of his legs  pressing against the back of mine. He seems
incredibly sexy to me. Ryan murmurs,  "Nobody smells as good as you, Dylan."
Sucking on my lips I'm dealing with the  hurt in my rectum as that big cock of
his spreads my rectum's walls as it  travels up my ass, but it feels good too
so the pain and pleasure are pretty  much a wash. It takes awhile to slowly
push eight inches of hard cock up my ass,  and that last inch is really
something as it's hits areas inside me rarely  approached by other cocks or
anything else going up there. Finally his groin is  flat against my ass and his
last hump against me pokes the head of his cock way  up my ass and I lift up
on my toes again leaning forward, "Aaaaah, Ryaaan,  ooooh." On my toes with
me leaning forward, only Ryan's arms around my waist are  keeping me from
falling on my face. I settle back down flatfooted as my rectum  accepts
Ryan's large member and the hurt fades away. With his body flat against  me he
humps against my buttocks a couple more times and a short stream of precum
drools out of my cock almost like I'm pissing, and the joint sensations from
my  cock and rectum get my back arching again and me moaning, "Arrrr,  oooh."


With his arms hugging tightly around my waist, low down near the root of
my raging boner, Ryan begins moving his hips backward pulling his long cock
out  of my ass setting off sizzling sensations from a million nerve endings.
Then a  moments hesitation with the lips of my asshole pulled back a bit.
His hesitation  has me anxiously anticipating the feel of his large hard penis
going back up my  ass, and then he does it and that big boner tightly goes
right back in steadily  giving me shivers all over, my body shaking
slightly. He tightens his hold  around my waist with Ryan making noisy breathing
sounds. Undoubtedly sensations  from his cock are increasing and Ryan's as
turned-on as I am, and then he starts  fucking me hard and fast. It's an all out
sprint to climax turning me into a  moaning fool. I'm moaning more than
usual because of the deep sexual pleasure  only a big long cock can provide.
It's different than smaller cocks, and add to  that my affection for Ryan and
his hot tight little body, his scent and his sexy  facial hair, and it has
me quickly dizzy with overwhelming sexual sensations  exploding deliciously
from millions of overactive nerve endings that I'd be  happy to deal with for
a very long time. Ryan's body slaps up against mine fast  and hard
continuously with me literally limp in his arms, his hot breath on my  back and his
grunts in my ears. Constant stimulation of my anus and prostate  from that
fast moving huge organ of Ryan's has me vibrating and shaking with  intense
sexual pleasure. The crescendo of climax builds way too quickly as I'm
whimpering from the sexual delights I'm feeling. My cock's pointing straight
down, my nuts at the top of my scrotum, orgasm just around the corner and then
Ryan makes a desperate whining sound humping against my buttocks and I feel
his  first stream of spunk splatter against the walls of my rectum as he's
shaking  and gasping and raggedy exhaling, then another hump against me
hugging me so  tightly around the waist I can hardly breathe with more cum
pouring up inside  me. The delicious sloppy cum feeling inside me immediately
brings on my orgasm.  I try to squeal but only a wheezy sound comes out as I
hump my hips arching my  back, and with a red sun bursting behind my eyes cum
streams out of my sizzling  cock. The fast moving steam of spunk shoots
straight down to splash against the  floor with my body's stiff as my boner.
Then another stream of fast moving cum  shoots from my hard penis and it's like
I can't see for a second or two. Gasping  for breath my muscles contract
again shooting out three small additional spurts  of cum. My sizzling cock's
head has me struggling in Ryan's arms and then with  another gasp from me I'm
limp and feeling so weak I can hardly stand. Sucking in  oxygen while
feeling orgasm sensations draining away only now do I realize  Ryan's again
driving his cock inside me, and while it feels really good, I have  an urge to
lie down for a minute. The surge of sensations was enormous and  required a
lot of energy and I'm weak now.


Ryan slows his thrusting, his arms dropping away from my stomach. Slowly
we both straighten up as he pulls out his cock and it's, "Mmmm, aah, mmm,"
from  both of us. "Holy shit, Dylan. It hasn't been very long since we did it
together, last Friday night, right? But wow, it's like I've been missing
your  ass for months and then that climax came on me like a bat outta hell.
Big  fucking climax!" I turn around and sort of lean against him, my forehead
on his  shoulder again, "That was hot, Ryan," and I put my arm's around the
back of his  neck and hug him to me, then lift my head and kiss his face in
a few places  feeling very attracted to him and his harmless dominant
fucking technique, "I've  still got the hot's for you, Ryan. Damn, you turn me on
and fuck good." I rub my  hand through his hair, then kiss him again." He
says, "Ya wanna lay on your bed  a minute, I'm weak," then, "Wait a second,
let me wipe your ass first. Where's  some tissues?" I hand him a box and he
grabs a fistful of tissues and wipes up  the cum drooling out of my ass, then
wipes cum off my butt cheeks. Throwing  those tissues in the waste can, he
holds another batch at my asshole and guides  me over to the bed and we lay
down on the unmade bed. Ryan's arm is under the  back of my neck as we lay
side by side on our backs, the tissues under my ass  absorbing drooling cum.
It's probably due to our sexual history together that  Ryan is always in the
dominant top position and me the submissive bottom. We  both just naturally
adopts our roles when the urge for intercourse overtakes our  minds. I know
he doesn't think he's being dominant, certainly not in any way  that Marty
is to him, but Ryan's in charge of our sex nonetheless. He's no  longer
dominant in a tie-me-up and spank me kind of way, he just controls our  sex and
gives the few necessary orders. And that's just during sex, but for  anything
else we do together neither of us is in charge. It's just two buds
determining what we feel like doing mutually. No sub/dom involvement at all.
That's a totally opposite situation from how it is with Ryan's with Marty.
Fuckwad tells Ryan what they're going to do and Ryan does it without question.
He even needs to have fuckwad's permission to do anything on his own, like
hang  out with me for example. Ryan and my relationship is nothing like the
one he and  Marty have... not a single thing about it is the same.

Were breathing heavily for thirty seconds or so, then he says, "We're so
perfect together, Dylan, don't you think?"I say, "Oh, absolutely, Ryan. We're
 perfect together except when we're fighting and arguing like cats and
dogs, or  when your master won't let you play with me." He laughs, "Yeah, except
for then,  but I was referring to our sex together." I nod my head, "Yep,
there isn't much  wrong with that." I turn my head to look at him, "Actually
for me there isn't a  single thing that isn't perfect about our sex
together. It's rapturous ya might  say." Ryan chuckles, "No I probably wouldn't say
that 'cause I'm not sure what  it means." I lean my head over to his and
bite his ear, murmuring, "In this case  it's another word for exceedingly good
and sexually hot, and do I ever I have  the hot's for you, and I mean all
the time. I don't mind admitting I get green  with envy thinking about what
that, um, roommate of yours is doing with your  body. I don't even want him
looking at you. You are way too good for the likes  of him." Ryan pulls his
arm from behind my neck and goes up on his side, leaning  on his elbow
grinning down at me. "I love hearing you tell me how cute and sexy  and hot I am,
and how much you love my tight body and scraggily whiskers, and  the way you
say you have the hot's for me. You're so generous with your  compliments it
makes me feel special. A feeling I rarely get to experience  except with
you." I say, "And don't forget your lips, you also have the best  lips for
making out, probably on the whole fuckin' planet." Them I reach up and  run my
fingers through his buzz cut, "And the coolest hair too, plus your  glasses
are cute and they go perfectly with your cute little nose, and don't  forget
that baby mustache on your upper lip, it's also sexy as hell." He pats my
cheek, "You're so awesome to me, but you're the cute one among us, Dylan, and
we  both know it. Still, I like listening to you lie to me. I love it in
fact." I  go, "I'm not lying, I meant every word I said. That's how I feel
about you, and  I don't care if others don't feel that way. It's their loss."
He leans his head  down and does a sweet kiss on my lips," then asks, "If it
weren't for a certain  boyfriend of yours, um, hypothetically do you think
you and I might find  ourselves as true lovers and it'd be us getting married
some day?"

Huh, I never gave that possibility any more than a passing thought, and
that was back when Robby was being unfair during our early threesome days.
I've  admitted to myself that Ryan's the only other boy I've ever loved, Robby
being the  number one romantic love of my life. The love I feel for Chubby
is another story  all together, and in a class all by himself. Looking at
Ryan, I say, "Yeah,  Ryan, if that's a serious question, the answer is a
serious yes. If I didn't  know Rob, you and me could be true lovers and we could
eventually get married. I  can envision that easily. Except for Rob I can't
think of anyone else I'd rather  be in true romantic love with other than
you. As it is, I love you now anyway,  but it's not the romantic love I feel
for Rob." He nods his head, looking  serious, "That'd be like a dream come
true for me. You and me together. I'd lose  my need to be a submissive dishrag
for dominant asshole's altogether. Like the  sex we just had, I wasn't
dominant to you except to the degree I need to take  charge, and only because you
want me to do that, right?" I go, "Yep, absolutely.  During all these
months we've been together we've become totally comfortable  with each other
during sex, and for the record you make me feel awesome during  sex." He lays
back down, saying, "This is how we'd be as true romantic lovers  too. I'd
always make you happy, and quite often too. I'd make you feel good  every time
we had sex and together we'd make each other happy the rest of the  time.
God, that'd be wonderful. I can dream it might come true some day  although, I
swear, I don't wish anything bad happening between you and Rob. You  guys
make an absolutely gorgeous and sexy couple."


We look at each other smirking, for the moment quite pleased with
ourselves and each other. Maybe this is how I can get Ryan to commit to freeing
himself of the fuckwad. I'll make him want me more than whatever Marty can give
 him even with his dominant shit. It's too soon to give him an ultimatum
though,  but I'll keep building up his self esteem until he doesn't feel he
needs to be  abused. Hmmm, what I'm about to ask him might break the
pleasantly peaceful and  happy mood Ryan and I are in, but I gotta push the issue.
Get him thinking about  it, so I ask him, "Ryan, do you think maybe you
gravitate towards these dominant  asshole who abuse and humiliate you because you
think you deserve bad treatment  or some kind of punishment?" He shrugs his
skinny shoulders, "I don't know why I  do it. It started back a couple of
years ago when I was lonesome and horny for  sex, but without any confidence
in myself to do anything about it. I got labeled  a dork in middle school, of
course. Being small and wearing glasses made me easy  to pick on and that
'dork' moniker stayed with me all through high school. Once  you're
considered a loser by the 'in' crowd it's almost impossible to be seen as  anything
else. Even on the baseball team I got zero respect. It's a horrible  feeling,
but I never told my parents because they were always worried about me  to
begin with. I think my dad was a dork as a kid too. He's kinda dorking now
too I guess, but I love him." To keep him talking, I go, "Uh huh. You're not
a  dork and you never were. What else happened back then?" So he goes on,
"Well,  there was this other so-called nerd who was sort of friends with me.
We did some  stuff together and then one day a cool kid showed me some
attention and before I  knew what was happening I was sucking his cock, and then
his friends' cocks too.  They claimed to be straight, but if they were why'd
two of them start fucking me  regularly? They started just smacking the back
of my head while they did it and  the abuse escalated from there. Afraid
they'd stop paying attention to me and  asking me to go drinking beers with
them, we drank quart bottles of beer in one  of their cars, I'd put up with
just about any abuse they threw my way. I was the  brunt of their practical
jokes and they's smack my face at the drop of a hat. As  expected, when I took
it they got rougher and rougher with me until it just  seems natural for me
to hurt all the time. And here I am today still doing it."  I nod my head
thinking how pathetic that is, but I don't tell him that. Instead  I say,
"Yeah, well you don't have that excuse anymore Ryan. You have friends who
don't smack you, some of us loving friends, so why put up with being abused
now?" He says, "I don't know why, Dylan. Why do you think I do it?"


Good fuckin' question. I ask, "Is it, like I said, that you feel you
deserve being treated badly? Maybe because you allowed yourself to be abused in
the past and now you're ashamed of it and feel you should be punished for
past  behavior. That's a self perpetuating line of thought right there, if
it's how  you feel." He goes, "I've wondered about that, Dylan. Wondered about
what you  just said and I don't have an answer." I'm like, "Huh. Why don't
you seek some  advise from a professional?" He's like, "You mean a
psychiatrist?" I nod my  head, "Yeah, why not?" He goes, "Oh sure, tell my rents I'm
fucked-up in the  head. No, I don't think so. They think I'm normal and I
wouldn't hurt them or  disappoint them for anything. They treat me like they're
proud of me and I don't  want them to know I'm nothing to be proud of."
Catch twenty-two right there. He  won't ask his parents for help because he
wants them to be proud of him while  he's not doing things they can be proud of
and he doesn't want to admit it which  he'd need to do to get professional
help. I say, "The only way you'll feel good  about yourself is by breaking
old habits and stopping things you're not proud  of. If you can do that it'll
be something you can be proud of." Ryan goes, "That  sounded a bit
confusing. Anyway, I thought I was on the right track for doing  just that with Rob
and you, and then my dad gets promoted and we moved to  Georgia. It didn't
take me long to realize you and Rob were my security blanket,  and without
you two I drifted right back into my horny lonesome ways with  familiar
results." I don't know what to say to that, and before I can think of  anything,
he looks at me and quietly says, "Is it alright if we don't talk about  this
anymore now? Please." I nod my head, "Sure, Ryan, but you've got a friend
in me, and you and me will get you out of this situation with Marty." He
mumbles, "Okay, but not now. I want to enjoy being with you and the other
regular guys, doing our lifting and just being with normal guys." Trying for a
light remark, I pretend to be offended, "Normal? We're way better than
normal!"  and I ruffle his buzz cut hair. He does half a grin nodding his head,
mumbling,  "You're all pretty special if you ask me, especially you, Dylan."


We get dressed as I try to get him in a more positive frame of mind.
"Ryan, do you think we can sneak in another sexy adventure later? I'd love to do
that with you." He gives me another half a grin, "Yeah, I sure hope we
can,"  then shaking his head, he goes, "You make me feel so good, Dylan. Thanks,
man,  really." I stop what I'm doing and slide his glasses up his little
nose, then  give him a sweet kiss on the lips. "You make me feel just as good,
so thank  you!" I get a full grin from him now, plus a little blushing on
his cute face.  He jokingly mumbles, "Yeah, I almost forgot, you've got the
hot's for me." I go,  "That's right, I do," then as I'm pulling my sweatshirt
on, I say, "I've been  wanting to ask you something." He says, "What is
it?" and I'm like, "When the  fuck am I gonna be able to add some weight to the
bar? I'm still lifting the  weight  I started at." He takes his job as
weight lifting instructor  seriously. "Not yet, Dylan. I made a note in the
lifting log that I'll try  adding ten pounds to your lifting after the first of
the year." I'm like, "That  sucks! You guys have increased your weights
twice already." He goes, "I don't  want to hurt your feelings, but you still
struggle with the last few repetitions  using your beginner's weight. No
offense, but I don't think you're willing to  put the extra effort in lifting that
the rest of us do... that second and third  effort. On the plus side, you
do twice the repetitions that you started with, so  that's progress." I put
my arm across his shoulders, "Look, I have some pull  with the weight lifting
instructor, right?" He chuckles, "Um, yeah, a little,"  and I go, "Let me
add at least five pounds a side to the bar so I don't get  discouraged and
begin thinking I'm the 'before' picture in the weight lifting  magazines." He
says, "Okay, but you've never looked like the 'before' picture in  any
magazine. You have a hot body. You're just not very strong, that's all," and  he
laughs, mumbling, "Sorry, but you're not." Okay, he's wrong about that, but
he's back joking around and being a little bit in charge.

We put our coats on and have another cigarette on the balcony. He's
smirking at me, looking upbeat and cute so I say, "Come over here, lets do a
smokin' kiss." I inhale and put my lips on his, kissing him and exhaling the
smoke into his mouth at the same time. The smoke from my drag drifts out his
nose as our tongues slide together. "That's smokin' hot alright," Ryan says,
and  does it to me and we get into another make-out, holding our cigarettes
away from  us. Ryan's kisses bring on another boner in my pants as I'm
gasping holding onto  him, the side of our face sliding together as we gasp for
breath doing the one  arm hugs. He's facing the sliding glass door and I'm
looking out on the parking  lot seeing Chubby getting out of our Jeep. "My
brother's coming." Ryan says,  "Hold me for another minute, okay?" I kiss his
lips again, "Can't wait to do it  again with you, Ryan." His eyes well up as
he murmurs, "Me too." A kiss on his  cheek, running my fingers through his
hair, then we part, take a last drag and  flick our butts over the railing.
Mine hits the front of the railing and bounces  off Ryan's ass as he turns
to go inside. I go, "Oops," and he laughs as I go to  kick it off the floor,
missing it. "Spaz," he mumbles, chuckling. My second kick  sends the butt on
it's way and we go inside. I feel good about making progress  with Ryan and
I'm thinking for the first time, 'this might happen'. He'll  eventually
move in with Freddie, then Robby, Chubby, and me will show Marty what  we think
about him showering abuse on our friend.


Chubby comes charging into the apartment all smiles with a whirlwind of
energy all around him. He throws his backpack on the sofa with ours, as he's
saying, "Ah, two of my favorite boys, give me a hug, Dylan!" We hug and he
gives  me a wet kiss on my cheeks, then goes, "Get over here, Ryan," and does
the same  to him, then puts his arm across Ryan's shoulders, saying, "We
need to have a  heart to heart talk my friend. These outrageous rumors of you
on a leash are  upsetting to me and my homies. So ya know, me and my brother
might need to kick  the shit out of a certain person's roommate. What do
you think about that, huh?"  Ryan says, "Thanks for caring, Chubby, but Dylan
and I are working on a solution  that hopefully will avoid violence." Chubby
mutters, "There's gonna be a little  violence on your roommates ass sooner
or later, buddy," then he looks at me, "Ah  ha, Dylan, you got started
looking out for our friend already I see. I  knew you would." I say, "Yeah, like
Ryan said, we're working on it, although I  can't say I agree with him
about avoiding the violence part of the solution."  Chubby's still holding onto
Ryan, as he says to him, "Did I tell you about this  guy in the bar that's
on top of the Prudential building, you know the one that  slowly rotates. The
guy who was pounding beer after beer down his throat?" Ryan  shakes his
head, "Um, I don't think you told me, Chub. When was this?" Chubby  says,
"Recently. Anyway, this guy's drunk on beer and he walks outdoors to the  veranda
and stupidly jumps off the roof. How many floors in the Pru anyway?"  Ryan
says, "He jumped off the roof?" Chubby's like, "He did. Then five minutes
later he gets off the elevator and starts throwing down beers again. The guy
has  six or eight more beers, then says, 'Fuck it,'and jumps off the roof
again. Five  minutes later he's getting off the elevator. A drunk guy at the
bar asks him how  he does that, and the drunk explains how air bubbles from
lots of beers form in  your body so you basically float down to the ground.
It's the gravity thing, but  ya gotta chug the beers to form the bubbles. The
other guy guzzles beer after  beer and then jumps off the roof and lands in
the street below. He went, SPLAT,  like dropping a watermelon off the
roof." And then I beat Chubby to the punch  line, "And the bartender says,
'You're a real asshole when you're drunk,  Superman."


We get a good laugh although I've heard the joke before. It's good seeing
Ryan laughing. Chubby says to Ryan, "Be glad you don't have a big brother
stepping on your punch lines all the time." and Ryan goes, "Yeah, I was
wondering how you two can be brothers and be the same age?" Chubby ruffles
Ryan's buzzed hair, saying, "You're wrong there, little buddy, we're not the
same age. He's two days older." Ryan goes, "Yeah, but..." and I say, "We're
brothers from different mothers. Half brothers, but I told you that before."
He  nods his head, "So, you have the same father and you were born two days
apart,  right? Um, that would mean, um..." Chubby goes, "Yep, it's like a
parallelogram," I laugh, "Do you even know what a parallelogram is, bro?" He
goes, "Of course I do," and then to Ryan, he says, "Another way of thinking
 about it is to say it was a miracle, but you probably already guessed
that."  Ryan's looking from me to Chubby, then he says, "Uh huh, lets get the
weight's  out. I don't want to know anymore about anything." As we go into my
bedroom  Chubby's saying, "I don't know what's confusing you, Ryan, it
happens every  fucking day or so. Didn't ya ever hear of twins?" Ryan laughs,
"Oh, yeah, that  explains it. Twins from different mothers." Chubby picks up
the bar for the  weights, lifting it a few times, muttering, "It could
happen." He drops the bar,  saying, "Get this. Me and John Beverly ran into this
beaver at the quad after  first class. This bitch has maroon hair, shaved on
one side. Real slutty and  right up John Beverly's alley so he sits down with
her, but she said she's into  girls. I told her it's probably for the
best." I laughed out loud, but I'll bet  he's telling the truth. He goes, "Not
many chicks are too icky for John Beverly,  but she was borderline."


We get the weights out and then set the bar with the proper weights for
Chubby to do a set first. Halfway though his set Robby comes in carrying a
case  of beer. "Hey, guys, whassup? I bought this case from Harry Black and I'm
pretty  sure he was sober, if you can believe that." I go over to Robby as
he puts the  case on the table and gives me a kiss. Ryan's right behind me
for his kiss. The  three of us load the Rolling Rock bottles in the
refrigerator. These are the  regular twelve ounce bottles, not the ponies. Chubby
drops the weight, done his  first set. Ryan says, "Chubby didn't want to warm
up first," and Chubby's like,  "Hey, you're the dude in charge, why didn't
you say something?" We do our warm  up and then take turns doing sets of
various weightlifting exercises. Ryan  putting an extra ten pounds on my bar
giving me a little grin, then announcing,  "Dylan's been promoted." I don't care
if I drop a nut doing it, I'm going to  complete every repetitions. I do it
sweating like mad and a little shaky from  the extra weight, getting a pat
on the back and a squeeze at the back of my neck  from Ryan. When we've all
completed our sets it's my turn to put the weights away. Chubby  helps me
and when we're done lugging everything back to the bedroom we see Robby  and
Ryan with their coats on having a beer and a cigarette on the balcony. It
looks like Robby's giving Ryan a pep talk out there. The roommates are doing
what we can to bolster Ryan after his stoned-on-weed night of humiliation.
I'm  hoping it'll help that Ryan see he's got friends and that there's no
need for  him to submit to Marty's abuse. If Marty was doing mild dominant sex,
and Ryan  was getting his rocks off with that, I wouldn't put my two cents
in. I'd still  be jealous but wouldn't feel it was any of my business. That
isn't the case  though. Ryan can't help himself and that's when a friend
intercedes. The  progress in that endeavor to help him today has far exceeded
my expectations.  Ryan said two important things. One, he doesn't even like
Marty the fuckwad, and  two, he wants to stop doing it with fuckwad, but so
far he hasn't the motivation  to make the move. He's afraid of what Marty
will do so he's rationalizing that  he can handle the abuse. So, that's not
good, but it's at least good to get the  idea that splitting with Marty as a
possibility is in Ryan's  head.

Done the weightlifting and  after a beer and a smoke, Robby wants us to do
the homework assignments from  today's classes now. That's a bit of a pain
in the ass. I prefer leaving  homework until the last second, but since there
isn't that much we need to do  tonight, fuck it, I do it. And it's always a
good feeling having that behind me  instead of in front of me, but without
Robby's urging me I'd still leave it  until later. Chubby didn't feel the
inclination to do the same, but instead  drank beers and talked on his
cellphone the entire hour we were doing our  assignments. Us threesome guys are in
the same classes so we have the same  assignments, some of which we split in
thirds and it takes one-third the time to  complete. Afterwards I
hesitantly ask Ryan, "Can you stay for dinner?" He bites  his bottom lip thinking
about that, then says, "Yes, of course I can. Thanks for  asking." He looks
nervous though. It's too stupid for words that he needs his  roommate's
permission to have dinner with someone. It's insane. I hope he  doesn't get in
trouble with fuckwad, but if he does it'll be one more nail in  Marty's coffin.
Even for Ryan there must be a point where enough turns into too  much and he
rebels. You'd think so, except if Marty breaks him down into being  too
submissive to rebel, then Ryan will except anything and he might be  lost.
That's Marty's objective of course and my objective is to prevent it from
reaching that point, and like I said: today was a good start to that  end.


The four of us decide on  Chile tonight. Chubby takes Ryan as his wing man
to buy the fixings, which are  many in Chubby's and my Chile recipe
developed over years of experimenting.  There are only fifty million different Chile
recipes and ours is just one of  them. Chubby's so cool taking Ryan with
him making Ryan feel he belongs. As for  Robby and me we start out sitting on
the couch, Robby's arm around the back of  my neck. We're casually
reminiscing about our sexual escapades last night and  this morning when somehow we
end up laying on the couch involved in a sexy  make-out with me realizing
Ryan isn't the only one who knows how to make-out  sexy and hot. Robby's so
much more aggressive and confident with his make-out  technique than he used to
be, and we both wind-up with hard boners by the time  Ryan and Chubby bop
into the apartment each carrying a plastic bag of groceries.  Robby goes,
"Oops," as we sit up. Chubby yells, "Get a room," and Ryan just  stares for a
second and then Chubby calls him, "Come on helper, unload the  groceries, we
gotta get started with dinner."


Everyone participated in the  chili preparation. There's lots of dicing for
our chili recipe. Two part diced  onion to one part diced carrots and one
part diced celery for the mierepoix. It  gets simmering in a pot with some
olive oil. To that we add green peppers diced  along with diced chili peppers
and jalapeņo peppers. Most of the heat in chili  peppers is in the white
core and ribs so you need to decide how much of that to  add to the pot. When
the vegetables are lightly browned add crushed garlic and  cook through, then
remove everything and save it. More olive oil to the pot and  add the meat.
Four thick slices of smoked bacon cut into small pieces, equal  parts
hamburg and ground pork, plus a half portion of ground Italian sausage  meat.
Brown the meat separating it into very small pieces. Tedious job that's
usually assigned to Robby because he's conscientious about getting the meat
broken down into small, equal size pieces so you get a mixture on your spoon
when eating it. We salt and pepper each ingredient as we go along. When the
meats broken down and browned, return the vegetables to the pot and add a big
can of crushed plum tomatoes, a smaller can of fire roasted dice tomatoes,
two  cups of low sodium chicken stock, a can of red kidney beans, and a
small can of  tomato paste. Mix everything together very well and add spices.
Cumin, chili  powder, garlic powder, smoked paprika, and sugar. We sometimes
add dark  chocolate too, although tonight we don't have any so I added
another tablespoon  or so of sugar. Stir it all again and bring to a boil, then
simmer for an hour  or longer, tasting and adjusting seasonings as it simmers,
melding the flavors  together. Chubby and I have the same taste in mind for
our chili, but Robby and  Ryan have different ideas about how hot, as in
spicy, it should be. So,  consequently there's some dispute over how much
additional chili powder should  be added. Compromise is needed and the spiciness
is finally begrudgingly agreed  upon. We'll serve the chili with shredded
cheddar cheese on top of each bowl,  and an iceberg and tomato salad on the
side with blue cheese dressing, and  lastly Chubby got a nice loaf of Italian
bread with butter  optional.


While the chili simmers we  drink beers, watch Sports Center on ESPN, take
two smoke breaks and all the  while talking about a lot of things without
mentioning Ryan and Marty even once.  We eat at eight o'clock with the TV on
watching the pre-game show for Monday  night football. The four of us eat the
entire big pot of chili which is too bad  because it's even better reheated
the next day. Then the pain in the ass of  cleaning up the kitchen after
dinner, but everyone chips in with appropriate  amounts of bitching about the
mess caused when making chili. Later, still  drinking beers, Robby's on his
cell phone walking around the apartment talking  to his father about their
new business project, the one that's still a year and  a half away. Chubby's
on his cellphone laughing and talking to his various  girlfriends as well as
commiserating with his wing man, John Beverly. Ryan and I  are on the couch
watching the game in silence. I'm pretty sure he's worrying  about the
trouble he's in for not checking with Marty about his long absence. He  told me
Marty never calls him. Ryan's suppose to call Marty and let him know  what
he's doing and with whom is he doing it. I'll find out what happens  tomorrow
at ten o'clock before our first class Tuesday  morning.




We're not talking about that  or anything else at the moment. Ryan's
sitting back on the couch and I'm next to  him lazily running my fingers though
his hair, back and forth slowly. Even  though it's a buzz cut it's still soft,
not bristly now about ten days after  getting it cut. Halfway through the
second quarter of the game he lays his head  in my lap and falls asleep. I
stare at his face, still playing with his hair  while springing a hard boner.
My lap's become an extra firm pillow for him but  he's sound asleep. We're
all about half drunk, the case of beer almost gone, and  I find myself dozing
off at half time. Robby's off his cellphone dozing off in  the armchair.
Then his eyes open and he stands up, mumbling, "Lets get to bed,  Dylan,"
then, "Oh shit. What are we gonna do about Ryan tonight?" I shrug, "Um,  wake
him up and send him home I guess." He says, "Maybe we can make up a bed for
him on the couch for the night." I go, "Oh, his fucking roommate might get
pissed at him," and Robby goes, "Get serious, ha ha, that asshole isn't
Ryan's  mother." He sees my expression, "What? He is his mother?" I go, "No, but
Ryan  sort of needs permission to, um, do stuff, or anything I think."
Chubby hears  me, and says, "What bullshit! Let him sleep here." I shake Ryan's
shoulder, he  wakes up and see the three of us looking at him so he sits up,
asking, "What?"  Chubby says, "Bunk here tonight, Ryan. You're tired and
half drunk. We'll make a  bed on the sofa or you can sleep with me if you're
not afraid I'll attack  you."


Ryan's rubbing his face,  mumbling, "Thanks, but I better be getting get
back to the dorm. What time is it  anyway?" I tell him it's almost ten and he
jumps up, "I'm pretty much fucked,"  as he takes out his cell phone and
checks for messages. I ask, "Any messages?"  He goes, "Three, but not from you
know who. I gotta get going." Chubby shrugs,  "The offer still stands, little
buddy. Don't take any shit from what's-his-name  either." Ryan looks at me,
exhales and looks around for his backpack, saying,  "Thanks for the dinner,
it was awesome guys." He looks at me again, "Walk down  with me, Dylan?" I
go, "Sure," and we get our coats on. Ryan give a quick hugs  to Robby and
Chubby, muttering his thanks again, and I walk downstairs with him.  He says,
"Oh boy, I'm in for it now." I grab hold of his coat stopping us just
inside the back door. "Ryan, you're a twenty year old sophomore in college.
These are supposed to be the best most carefree fun days of our lives. You
shouldn't ever be afraid of having some dinner and beers, watching a football
game with some friends. Don't you see how fucked that is?" He nods his head,
"Yeah, I see it's fucked up alright, but it's the spot I put myself in and
frankly I'm scared what he'll do to me." I go, "Goddammit, I'll go in with
you  and we'll confront that asshole right now." Now Ryan's shaking his
head, "No,  that would make it worse. Don't worry, Dylan," and he leans over to
give me a  kiss on the lips before finishing his sentence, "I'll be fine,
really." Putting  my hand inside his unbuttoned coat on his heart I feel it
beating fast. He's  afraid and that's just not right. I quietly say, "This is
wrong, Ryan. You need  to change roommates and I already told you I have a
new roommate for you." He  goes, "Yeah, okay, but not now. I'll be fine.
Thanks for caring about me, Dylan,  I love you," and another kiss on my lips. We
hug quickly then he breaks away and  is out the door running to his car. I
watch his Mini drive away until his  taillights disappear around the corner.


Walking slowly up the steps  I'm thinking again that if Marty beats him up,
or grounds him, or whatever  fucked-up thing he does to him, that's one
step closer to reaching Ryan's  breaking point. Still, I feel bad he's scared
and probably scared for good  reason. The fact he brought this mostly on
himself is beside the point. Fuckwad  is taken advantage of Ryan's weakness for
dominant asshole's like himself. It's  inexcusable, inappropriate, and
unforgivable behavior on Marty's part clear and  simple. I'll probably have a
shitty night's sleep worrying about Ryan. Tomorrow  I'll see the fallout, and
if Marty's smart he'll take it slow and easy on Ryan,  which is the move that
would be most affective in keeping Ryan under his thumb.  I'm betting
Marty's not smart though. I'm betting he's gonna go through the roof  and do
something stupid that will take Ryan one step closer to seeing the  light.


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




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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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