Date: Sat, 11 Oct 2014 21:13:15 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR CHAPTER 5

			  DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR


				 CHAPTER 5


			     by  Donny Mumford

After suffering through this morning's orientation,  Robby, Ryan, and me
had lunch at Five Guys. That's a burger restaurant, but  not your typical fast
food joint. Everything is cooked to order at Five Guys.  The burgers we had
were outstanding, but what a pain in the ass it was getting  to their
location in Peabody! The traffic was a nightmare. We don't know of  another Five
Guys anywhere closer so we'll probably tolerate the traffic and  go to this
one again some time because the burgers were that good. After  dropping Ryan
off at his dorm Robby wants to take a nap. We haven't been  getting much
sleep since we moved into the apartment due to the fact we've  been partying
pretty hardily, meaning drinking too much beer. That happens in  the early
days at college each year, but things will calm down when we get  into the
flow of attending classes and studying and all the other educational  stuff.
The so-called book learning part of college life... it puts a serious  damper
on other activities, fer sure. Anyway, I'm thinking that getting in bed
with Robby for a nap might lead to something sexy, but no, it turns out to be
just a nap. I wake up around five o'clock feeling groggy. Robby's already up
 and I hear him talking to someone in the living room, but can't make out
what  he's saying. Since I only hear his voice he must be on the phone,
unless he's  talking to himself. In the bathroom I wash my hands and face, then
brush my  teeth trying to wake up. As I'm drying my hands my own cell phone
chirps. It's  a text from Cory, 'Are you settled in yet?'  Cory wants a
haircut which is cool, but it's what else he might want that worries me. It
might be a problem for me because I'm cutting back on my side sex. I can't let
Robby down for one thing, and now with Ryan and me being sexually active
again, cutting back on other side sex is the right move to make. I've  gotta
start somewhere so if Cory suggests we do it, that's where I'll begin my
mission of cutting back. The problem with that is, Cory's sensitive and he's
just now finally coming out of his shell so I wouldn't want to do anything
to  hamper his progress.  He's still a logical starting point for me to begin
 cutting back though. I say that seemingly contradictory statement because
he  and I have only delved into buddy sex on a very limited basis,
experimentally  let's say, so there's no real history between us in that regard. I'm
not even  sure he wants to do it again, but if he does I'll let him down
easy explaining  Robby and I have made a serious commitment to each other. It
seems logical  when I say it, but sometimes things aren't as simple as they
sound.  Hmmm, first I should find out what my main man, Robby, has planned
for  us tonight. I'll do that before I text Cory back. It's kinda cool having
Robby  making the decisions for me because he can be my excuse. Well not an
excuse  exactly, but if Robby has plans for us I'll just tell Cory I'd love
to except  Robby wants me to do... whatever. Sounds easy, but like I said,
nothing's  usually as simple as I think it's going to  be
.
When I go into the living room I find Robby on  the couch texting. I'd like
to know who he's texting but don't pry. He  looks up, "Oh, hi, baby! Um, I
was just talking to your twin on the phone. We,  that is, I decided it'd be
a good idea if Ryan and me had dinner together and  afterward, you know,
we'll have his and my sexy night together, um, for the  week. You and me quite
nicely have sexually christened our sophomore year  already, so you know,
it's sorta Ryan's turn." I don't comment, so he asks,  "Don't you agree it's
important Ryan feels confident we're all officially into  the threesome
again?" I stare at him trying to think how I feel about this. I  mean, I knew it
was part of the threesome concept and I thought I was fine  with it, but now
I'm not so sure. He goes, "Do you mind?" It'll be stupidly  unfair of me to
complain about this since Ryan and I have already had our sexy  reunion
together. Somehow though I can't think of an appropriate thing to say,  so
Robby stands up and says, "Well, shit! You and Ryan already christened the
threesome and I didn't throw a wet blanket on that." I stare at him like a
moron and he says, "So tonight he and I will do the same. I'm surprised you're
acting like this, you've been fine with everything until now." I'm finally
able to speak, "Yeah, I've made it through a whole day and a half." He's a
little pissed off, "Tonight it's Ryan and me. I'm sorry if that upsets you,
but that's the way it's going to be." He looks at me as I shrug, still
unable  to think of anything meaningful to say for some reason. Then I whine, "I
just  got up, Rob, don't jump down my throat. Sure, it's fine with me. God,
why are  you so bitchy?" He softens his expression coming over to give me a
hug, "I'm  sorry, Dylan. I love you and don't want to hurt you. Are you
sure it's okay?  I'll break-up the threesome right now if you're not into it.
What the hell,  we'll all just be buddies if that's what you want. We all
know you're the one  who's really in charge anyway, not me. So you tell me,
what do you want me to  do?" Again I stare at him stupidly.

I'm thinking, hmmm, Robby seems very sincere  about abandoning the
threesome. That's if I say so, where as if he were a more  nefarious person I might
think it's merely a clever move on his part to put me  in a bind like
this... turn the tables on me, so to speak. He clearly saw how  Ryan and I had the
hot's for each other during the three-way sex-a-thon.  Frankly, it's like
our relationship hardly missed a beat after Ryan's ten  weeks absence, and
there's no realistic way we could continue our, um, buddy  sex to the degree
we're into it without me suffering massive guilt trips unless it's within the
threesome umbrella.  Taking a deep breath, I mutter, "What are you talking
about, Rob? You're our  leader so if you say tonight's your's and Ryan's
night I'm totally on board  with that. No problem, but I just woke up and, ya
know, so..." He hugs me,  "Thanks, Dylan! Actually I'm glad you're a little
jealous because I'm a little  jealous when it's just you and him. If we
weren't a little jealous of each  other I'd worry about our true love affair. The
big picture is, we're sowing  our wild oats and getting it out of our
system when we're young. Right?" Okay,  right there! Again I could think a
devious individual was throwing my own line  back in my face, but Robby's not
devious. I go, "I know, and I love you too,  Robby. I'm a baby sometimes, you
know that. A spoiled brat." He goes, "No!  You're not a baby, and you're not a
spoiled brat either. Whatever would make  you even say something like
that?" He just did it again. That could be  interpreted as sarcasm if it came
from a less sweet and sincere person than  Robby. I shrug, "Huh! Yeah, well
we're good. Have fun tonight. Um, where ya  going for dinner?"

He lets go of me doing his own shrug, "I don't  know, I haven't decided
yet. What are you gonna do tonight?" I hold up my cell  phone, mumbling, "Cory
texted me a couple minutes ago wanting a haircut. I  guess I'll hang out
with him tonight." He gives me a look, then goes, "Is he,  um? No, it's none of
my business. Say hi for me. I'm going to take a shower  now. We're good,
right, you and me?" I say, "You're the boss," and he mutters,  "Yeah, right,"
and with a little wave of his hand he goes into our bedroom. I  wander out
to the balcony, light a cigarette, and lean up against the railing  trying
not to think about anything. Looking down I  see a girl and guy making-out
amongst the trees. She's leaning against a tree  with the guy leaning against
her as they kiss and he rubs her tit's. Funny how  that's a big turn off to
me. The mind is a funny thing and the unconscious  part of the mind is even a
little scary and mysterious. We're slaves to it's  wishes and desires,
fooling ourselves into thinking we have free choice about  stuff when we're
actually majority influenced by unknown factors. Billions of  little factors and
experiences of our individual minute by minute existence.  These influences
are gathered and registered in our minds. They come from our  individual
environments starting from birth. Uncountable influences stored in  our
unconscious helping to dictate our behavior. Everything's effected,  including
repressed feelings, automatic skills like Robby with baseball,  subliminal
perceptions, all kinds of thoughts we have over the years, habits,  automatic
reactions, complexes, phobias, desires, and who the fuck knows what  else. The
unconscious is a vast repository of forgotten memories. Yeah, maybe  I'll
chose to blame that for the way I am. I mean, why not? Am I consciously  gay
or consciously oversexed because I decided that's how I'll be. I don't
decide shit, it's already decided for me by my unconscious mind and every
single person who's ever lived has a different set of factors influencing  their
unconscious minds. No two have exactly the same inputs and then there's  the
randomness of genes mixing together, like forever, from cave men through
untold numbers of sexual encounters that in my case ended up being little ol'
 me. The same is true for Robby, or anyone. So what am I to make of this?
Actually I don't have a fucking clue. All I can do is decide if I want to
try  being happy with what I've got, and I think I've got a lot, or be
negative and  concentrate on what I don't got... and fuck being grammatically
correct.

Huh, that was a fun exercise, not! I don't know why I get introspective
like this when all I can do is make the best of the way things are, and that's
 exactly what I'm going to do... make the best of it. There, I feel better!
 It's life and life only, and what's so bad about my life anyway? Nothing,
that's what. Okay, what is it exactly that I've decided from all this?
Hmmm,  fuck if I know. Chubby pats me on the back and I jump a foot in the air,
'Wha?  Oh, ha ha, hi Chubby," and I hug him. "It's so comforting to know I
can always  count on you, can't I, Chub?" He goes, "Of course, but what's
wrong, Dylan.  Who's ass needs kicking? I'm ready and able." I go, "I'm sure a
lot of people  need their ass kicked, but no one I know of at the moment.
What's up with  you?" He lights a cigarette, muttering,  "Just my date with
the bimbo tonight, the one John Beverly introduced me to.  We're double dating
and going to somebody's party. The sophomore year is  really getting off
the ground with a big bang for me." As  he talks, I'm texting Cory. Then I
tell Chubby, "Cory Dunlevy's coming over  for a haircut tonight." Chubby asks,
"Do you like cutting guy's hair? It  doesn't appeal to me personally. I
mean, when I was giving you haircuts it was  cool, but cutting random peoples'
hair? Nah, not for me." I say, "Yeah, well  we have different repositories of
forgotten memories." He  frowns, 'What the hell does that mean?" I go, "Oh,
nothing. Even though we've  got different repositories you and me still
like and dislike a lot of the same  things because we've experienced many of
the same input factors while growing  up together. We both have many of the
same positive memories, remembered or  forgotten, of each other too, and
that's why we love each other so much." He drags on his cigarette, then talks
with smoke coming  out of his nose and mouth, "I wish I had a pen and some
paper so I could write  all this shit down. I might be able to use it for a term
paper in one of my  courses." I grin at him, "Fuck you, bro." He rubs my
head, grinning back,  muttering, "Whatever. Hey, you got the love part right,
Dylan. That's the  important part."

Flicking my cigarette butt off the  railing and then kicking it off the
balcony I read Cory's reply. He wants to  know what time and he also needs
directions for getting here. As I'm texting  that information I think of Ryan's
wispy whiskers and randomly say, "Isn't it  weird, Chubby, that we haven't
grown any whiskers yet?" He says, "It's a  blessing, bro, shaving seems like
a pain in the ass. I guess it is unusual  though, now that you mention it.
You know, some Asian guys can't grow whiskers  until they're like
seventy-five years old or something. Then all they're hair  turns white and they grow a
two foot long white beard overnight. That's  weirder than us not having
whiskers." I go, "Yeah it would  be except what you just said is total
bullshit." He shrugs, "I think I read  that somewhere, or maybe it was a joke
someone told me, what the fuck. Well,  whatever, I gotta get ready for my date,"
and he flicks his butt way out  almost hitting the couple making-out against
the tree. I chuckle as he goes,  "Oops." We bump fists and Chubby goes
inside. I sit on one of the outdoor  chairs feeling better. Chubby always makes
me feel better. I gotta remember  his bullshit story about seventy-five year
old guys growing a two-foot white  beard overnight, hee hee. Looking at the
sky I see it's clouding up and it's  probably going to rain. I hope Chubby's
party is indoors. Cory texts back asking what a two foot white beard has to
do with my  directions? Haha, I must have typed that unconsciously
listening to Chubby's  tale. Then Ryan texts me... he says he nagged Rob into making
tonight 'their'  night, and then he tells me he and I are getting together
some time tomorrow.  I'm not the only oversexed guy in town, but I gotta
straighten Ryan out about something. He's not the boss of me like he thinks he
 is. That's only during sex. For now I texts back that I hope they have fun
 tonight and we'll have to see what tomorrow brings. I say that, but I
really  do want to experience more of what Ryan laid on me during the three-way
last  night. Jesus, that was so hot! So, it was Ryan's idea for him and Rob
to get  together tonight. Huh. Okay, that's better than the other way around
I  suppose. Yesterday I didn't feel jealous at all, so what's with today I
wonder? Fucking subconscious part of my brain is rearing it's ugly head
again.

Inside I look in the refrigerator hoping there's a beer that we missed
last night, but no luck. Robby comes out looking good. I say, "Whoa, you look
good enough to eat," and he smiles, "Thanks, you do too. You look good
enough  to eat all the time." I put my arm around his waist, saying, "Sorry for
my  pout a little while ago. I'll be a good fiancé from here on out." He
kisses  me, "You're always good, Dylan. I wouldn't want you to change anything
about  yourself. You're perfect the way you are." I mutter, "You too, Robby."
Damn,  he's good looking. He rubs my hair, "You're hair is growing fast,
Dylan.  You'll be ready for a haircut next week." I ask, "What kind of
haircuts are we  gonna rock this year?" He shrugs, "You're my expert on that. I
already told  you that, so what should it be?" I say, "I'll give it some
thought, but not  burrs or flattops. We've been there, done that. We'll do
something else." He  says, "Whatever you say, baby. Love ya," and we kiss on the
lips. He goes,  "Give Cory my best and invite him over for dinner. We'll eat
here tomorrow  night and have a little party to celebrate our last night
before classes  begin." I go, "You got it, boss." He gets his keys, and as he's
going out the  door, he goes, "Pick up a case of beer before tomorrow night.
See you in bed a  little later, Dylan. Love ya." I watch him go, really
liking the idea of Robby  and me sleeping together for months and months to
come. Hmmm, it sorta  admirable he didn't use the excuse of Ryan nagging him to
make tonight their  night. No cop-out, he just told me tonight is their
night. Hope they don't get  caught in the rain, hee hee.

I'm on my computer checking stuff out  when Chubby comes in to say goodbye.
We do a quick as a wink kiss on the lips.  Huh, Chubby does it without
thinking about it now. It took me almost twenty  years to get him trained like
that, ha ha. Damn, I love him so much. I'm so  lucky he's been in my life
forever and I love living with him in this  apartment. Maybe when I'm married
Chubby could live with Robby, me, and the  baby. He and Dodger will be the
baby's godfathers so it's not that crazy of an  idea. Man, I really like the
idea of being married to Robby too. You know,  kissing him goodbye when he's
going off to work, Chubby too. I'll be the chief  cook and bottle washer and
the baby's prime caregiver too.  Our son will love me more than Robby
probably, mostly because I'll be the one  taking care of him. I didn't have a
father so I don't know if that's what  happens or not, but I'm assuming he'll
be closer to me. I'm not even  considering a nanny at this point, not since
Robby says no to that idea. Well,  all that won't be happening for two years,
but still I think it's healthy that  I have the right attitude before we
get to the point we're actually married  and have the baby. A lot of guys
wouldn't be okay with being a stay at home  dad because it's not manly or macho,
but I have a good  grip on who I am, and with Robby the head of the
household, I'm perfectly  happy to let him run things. And the threesome is a damn
good vehicle for  learning to accept my role in that regard too. Tonight for
example, Robby made  the decision, didn't make excuses for it and I bent to
his decision after a  little pout. By the time we get married pouting about
something that it isn't  exactly the way I want will be a thing of the
past. I'll just say, 'Sure,  Robby'. Yeah, that's how the threesome is
beneficial and I  wonder if that's part of Robby's thinking. He plans things ahead so
it  probably is. Head of the household... I love the thought of that. Robby
will  take care of everything and life will be so calm and relaxing for me,
no  worries because it'll be Robby who needs to take care of whatever there
is to  worry about. Nice being taking care of finally, and that's no
reflection on my  mom. She worked hard to give us a nice condo and it was a happy
childhood.  It's just that Chubby and I mostly took care of ourselves. I'm
going to be  conscientious about my duties as Robby's... Robby's what? I
guess we're both  each others husband. I'll get going on a daily routine for the
baby when he  comes. I should probably schedule his diaper change for the
middle of the day  and then Robby will want to bath the baby before bed, so
that's another clean  diaper. I'm leaning towards soft cloth diapers, not
those  paper ones. Okay, feed the baby breakfast and then wake him up for lunch
and  let Robby wake him up for dinner. Wait a minute, there needs to be
some  playtime for him. I'll get Robby to buy one of those baby swings you
windup  and it swings itself. Then when he's a toddler Robby will buy a big crib
for  the kid, not those small ones you see all the time. Give the baby
space to  practice walking in. I suppose I should check in on him a couple of
times in  the morning and then in the afternoon too, although babies sleep
most of the  time. They're like teenagers in that regard, or  cats.

The front doorbell interrupts my planning. It's gotta be Cory, and it  is.
We hug hello and, like always, he's a little shy initially, "Um, I got  lost
in this apartment complex, Dylan. All the buildings look the same. Then I
reread your directions and I finally got it right, so here I am." He's
rubbing  his hands together like they're cold. I go, "Well, it's really nice to
see  you, Cory," and I rub his hair, "Ready for a haircut?" He looks down
muttering, "I wish my damn hair grew faster so I could get a haircut every
week, so yeah I'm ready and eager." I hug his shoulders, saying, "I'm giving
you a shampoo first. It's something I started doing last summer and most of
the guys like it." He says, "I'm sure I will too, um, do you think we could
 do, you know, after the haircut?" Holy shit, I didn't expect him to come
right  out with it. Jesus! I stare at him as his face turns dark red. Then he
 mumbles, "I'm sorry to put you on the spot like that. I suck." I go, "No
you  don't!" Gee, all the things he did taking care of me when I was totally
fucked  up after the New York city trip. My best intentions sometime don't
work out.  so I quietly say, "Whatever you want, Cory, that's what we'll do."
He's  looking down biting his lip, muttering, "My fucking face is going to
burst  into flames any second now. God, I'm pathetic." I give him another
hug, "Come  on, I'll show you how I'm gonna shampoo your hair. I perfected
this method to  simulate being in a barbershop getting a shampoo. Lots of
upscale barbershops  routinely shampoo before the haircut." I'm walking him down
the hall to my  bedroom. He asks, "Do they?" and I say, "Well, I've never
been in one, but I  Goggled barbershops and, yeah, the upscale salons do
shampoo's first. Some of  them are ridiculously expensive too. Stupidly expensive
 actually."

In the bathroom I place a straight-back chair facing away from the sink
and tell him to take off his shirt, then have him sit down. Bare chested  now
I can see Cory's ribs and, what's this, a little hair on his chest between
his pecs. Looking closely at his face, I ask, "Are you getting whiskers,
Cory?" He blushes again, "Yeah, for over a year now. I shave because I wanna
look young." I go, "My friend, Ryan, has whiskers that are sexy. I'll bet
yours will be too." He looks up, "Ya think?" I go, "Yeah, I'm shaving every
day trying to stimulate some whisker growth of my own. I didn't use to like
whiskers or body hair but now I think some guys are sexy with both." He
goes,  "I've got some chest hairs," I reach over and lightly rub my fingers
through  his minimal chest hair, saying, "Cool and sexy, Cory." He rubs his
face, "I  just shaved, but I'll let my bread grow in some so you can see if you
like it.  There isn't much though." Hmmm, this isn't the direction I want
our  conversation to go, but he's so fucking  likable! Okay, I'll start
eliminating some side  sex with someone else, not Cory. He's fragile and I don't
want to see him  regressing back to his angry-at-the-world self like he was
when I first met  him. And he's got CF on top of everything else he needs to
deal with. I wonder  what's in his repository of forgotten memories. It
can't be good considering  his shaky home life growing up. That's much improved
now though, and thank God  for that. His improved home life probably has a
lot to do with Cory's reversal  of personalities, he's much more outgoing
then he ever was before. At least  during the time I've known him that's true.
As I run my fingers through his  dry hair, for something to say, I ask,
"How are your sisters doing?" He  shrugs, "They're okay, sisters though. I wish
I had a brother. Um, someone  like you." I tip the chair back against the
sink, saying, "Pretend we're  brothers if you want." He grins, blushes, then
mumbles, "Nah, then we couldn't  do you know what." Back to that again. It's
settled, I can't let Cory down,  but I'm dropping the subject for now. The
least I can do is not  encourage him.

I  wet his hair and when rubbing shampoo into his hair, I use both hands. I
enjoy  shampooing his hair and massaging his scalp while studying his face.
He has  average facial features that don't come together perfectly, but
he's nice  enough looking. I'll bet some whiskers will elevate his looks to
maybe being a  little sexy. He's such a sweet kid, I lean down and kiss his
forehead. He  grins and blushes again, murmuring, "Thanks, Dylan. Thanks for
everything."  Cory doesn't initiate any discussion and I've come to realize
most guys tend  to be quiet when I'm massaging their heads during the shampoo.
It's relaxing  and pleasant having your hair shampooed and being fussed
over, and maybe they  even find it sexy to some degree, even the straight guys.
To me all slim guys  around my age are generally sexy in some way or
another. That holds true as  long as they're not too tall or too short and there's
no glaring fault like a  high squeaky voice or unbearable personality,
things like that. So in that  regard Cory qualifies as sexy in a very general
way. There are also some rare  guys who I find extremely sexy for a variety of
reasons that are specific to  each guy. Things like cuteness, good hair,
sexy eyes or lips, things like  that, and sometimes I can't even pinpoint
exactly why it is I find them sexier  than most... I just do. In very rare cases
guys can seem extraordinarily  sexier than most, which is the case with
Ryan and Robby... Chubby too if I'm  honest about it. Their sexiness is off the
charts for me while another gay guy  might feel Robby's too pretty and
Ryan's too nerdy and small to be sexy, or  for other reasons. It's as subjective
an opinion as any could possibly be.  Fortunately I only need to please my
view of what makes a guy sexy, and  basically I couldn't care less about the
opinion of others in that regard. I  care what the opinions that others may
have in a lot of subjects, just not  about who's sexy.

I'm rubbing my fingers from the back of Cory's neck, up and  over the top
of his head, and then back, and then I do it from one ear over to  the other.
I like messin' with guy's hair. Perhaps I got attracted to this way  back
when I started messin' with Chubby's hair as a young kid. I didn't have a
conscious understanding of how I loved Chubby back then. I didn't understand
there was different ways to love someone, different degrees too. That began
to  change way back when I was seventeen and fat Carl showed me I like
having sex  with guys. Chubby and I as kids never did anything more sexy than
jerking off  together. In retrospect the revelation Carl showed me about me
being gay  didn't especially shock me or even surprise me all that much. I
guess  subconsciously I already knew I was gay. My love for Chubby wasn't ever a
 lover's love, although it could be under the right circumstances. My love
for  him was and is an intense love that surrounds the concept of a lover's
love,  all around it's borders, but never exceeding it's borders. I love him
as a  best friend and brother with an intensity that I imagine few people
have for  someone who's not a lover. All this became clear to me only the
past year or  so when I realized I'm deeply in a true lover's love with Robby
and so I  know it's different than my love for Chubby. Neither is more or
less important  than the other, both are loved with all my heart and soul, but
differently at  the same time. I can't put these differences into words and
it would take  pages and pages of reasons and real rationalization to try
explaining it.  Honest rationalization, not convenient rationalizations like I
make all the  time having learned that skill from none other than my
brother. In other  words, describing the differences of the ways and reasons I
love would be too  difficult of a task to make it worth doing. It's enough that
I know the  difference myself. Proving it to others is not something I'm
concerned with. I  love Ryan too, but then I love lots of people, friends
mostly, and family too.  It's just that I love them differently, one from the
other. For instance, I  love Ryan mostly because of his incredibly hot sex and
because I think he's a  good friend. Like me, he's not perfect, for example
I'm not always positive  about his motives and I've wondered at times if
he's being devious, but mostly  I'm interested in having sex with him. That's
especially true when he tricks  up his dominant talents in ways I've never
seen before. He did that yesterday  during our three-way sex-a-thon. That was
totally different and maybe he was  just showing off for Rob, or proving
something to me, not that I care very  much about his motive. Whatever the
reason for doing it, his dominant sex  really made me feel good in the sexiest
ways  imaginable.

Well, I guess there's no logical way I can stretch  this shampoo out any
longer, plus I think Cory may have gone to sleep, ha ha.  "Cory?" and his eyes
flutter open and he looks around, then mutters, "This has  been awesome,
Dylan." He adjust the crotch of his jeans, adding, "I've never  experienced
anything like it before. It's been very pleasant and I get to  smell your
special aroma while you're massaging my head too. Wow, can you  shampoo my hair
every night?" He adjust his crotch again, pulling the material  away from
his body, "Heh, heh, I got a little woody going for me here, Dylan.
Embarrassing," as he blushes again. "Just relax, Cory, nothing wrong with  boners."
He squirms a little in the seat as I begin rinsing the shampoo suds  out of
his hair. "What kind of haircut do you want?" He says, "Something I  won't
need to bother with, but not bristly like a buzz cut." I go, "You're  hairs
curly so it needs to be really short to be bristly. I've got this new  haircut
I've been doing for guys lately. I leave the hair's long enough to lay
flat on top of your head, although your's will be wavy. And then the bangs are
cut back off your forehead." He says, "That sounds okay to me. Does it cost
 extra?" I go, "Afraid so, it's twice as much as normal." He chuckles,
"Okay,  it's probably worth it then." I say, "Hey, I could take that the wrong
way,  Cory. Are you insinuating my haircuts aren't worth anything?" He says,
"Hell  no, to me they're gold. Like I said, I wish I could get a haircut
from you  every week." I say, "You can if you want to, buddy." He smiles,
"Nobody makes  me feel as good as you, Dylan, nobody comes close." I'm roughly
drying his hair with a towel  leaving his scalp tingling. He says, "I got
shivers from that. It feels good.  Will you do that shoulder massage, please?"
I go, "Of course, I like squeezing  your body." First I use a brush and a
hairdryer to get his hair very dry, then  I massage his shoulders, the back of
his neck, and up the back of his head  with Cory's body becoming very loose
and docile moving here and there at my  touch. He goes, "Oooouuu, I got
shivers again and look," He holds up his arms,  adding, "I got goose bumps on
my arms. Man, this feels good." I pat his  shoulder, saying, "Come on,
shivers, I'll do your haircut in the bedroom." I  don't know why I said the
bedroom. The tile floor in the kitchen is where it  should be done. Oh well,
there's hardwood floors in the bedroom which will be  just as good as a tile
floor.


In my bedroom I push back the  throw rug so the cut hairs will fall on the
hardwood floor and then pull the  desk chair over and pat the seat. Cory
sits down grinning, "Can you do my  haircut real, real slow so it last a long
time? I love quietly sitting here  with you cutting my hair and squeezing my
shoulder and moving my head around.  I love it when you touch me!" I
chuckle, "Okay, slow and quiet, right?" He  nods his head, "Perfect." Cory has
pretty blond curly hair. It's not  excessively curly though, and when it's cut
short it's not very curly at all.  When I first met him it was kind of long
and unruly, and curly. At times it  can even look light brown rather than
blond. It gets real blond in the summer  from the sun. He was giving himself
haircuts when I met him. Not butcher jobs  either, and the curliness covered
up mistakes he made so it looked okay. His  hair's not perfect because he has
a bit of a widow's peak and his hair isn't  especially dense although the
curliness gives the appearance of body. Also he  has a pronounced cowlick at
the crown of his head. A cowlick is that swirl of  hair you see on some
guy's heads. Some have it at the front hairline too.  That's really unfortunate
because there isn't anything you can do with that.  It's a swirl of hair and
it stands out, period. Cory's cowlick is at the back  top, left side of his
head. The curls covered it up when he had much longer  hair.

Using scissors and comb I cut  his hair slowly. It would take half the time
if I used clippers, but I want to  accommodate Cory's wishes. He sits
docilely for me as the cut hairs drift to  the floor around him. He's almost limp
sitting in the desk chair, his skinny  shoulders slumped with his hand
clasped together in his lap. Curly blond hair  clippings drift around him
constantly landing on his shoulders, back, lap, and  hands. It's very quiet, the
only sound being the subtle crunch of scissors  cutting through dry hair. The
hair on the sides and back of his head are cut  short and I keep the short
theme cutting his hair over the crown of his head,  subduing his cowlick in
the process. With the hair on the sides and back of  his head as short as
they now are, the longer hairs on top look like a mop by  comparison. Combing
the top hair up and then holding the hairs between my  forefinger and middle
one I slice through the hairs with the scissors. It's  taken twenty minutes
by the time I'm combing up the curly bangs and cutting  them back to the
hairline. I just decided that this is the haircut I'm  recommending to Robby
for him, Ryan, and me. It also reminds me of Sonny's  haircutting technique
because, like Sonny, I used no clippers until I use the  trimmer clippers to
outline around Cory's ears. Like Sonny and Ryan's ears,  Cory's stick out a
little and I find this to be cute and very boyish. I pull  on one of Cory's
ears, saying, "I can't drag out the haircut any longer, Cory.  It looks good
on you." He looks up at me blushing again for reasons unknown. I  kiss his
lips which turns his pink blush to red. Chuckling I rub his head,  "All
done," as I reach to the desk for the handheld mirror that I hold  out to him.
Cory takes it and checks himself out, "Cool, Dylan. You cut hair  awesomely,
much better than I ever did."

I mumble, "I would think  giving yourself a haircut a very hard thing to
do."He rubs his fingers through  his hair, all over his head, saying, "It's so
even and neat. Sweet!" Squeezing  the back of his neck, I say, "I'm gonna
treat you to dinner tonight. We'll  celebrate the beginning of a new year. I
wanna suck up to my boss." Cory's my  supervisor at Stop & Shop this year.
He says, "You bought me dinner last  time. It's my turn." I go, "That last
dinner was a thank you dinner for saving  my ass after my stupid trip to New
York. This time it's to suck up to you, heh  heh. That clueless woman in the
office said you run a tight ship, so I wanna  get on your good side." He
chuckles, "Yeah, I'm a real tyrant. She's  delusional." I say, "Anyway, I'm
thinking of the 99 Restaurant. It's  inexpensive, so this is no big deal." He
shrugs, "I've never been in that  place, but there are always a lot of cars
in the parking lot so it must be  pretty good." I'm brushing the hair
clippings off Cory's body. His skin is dry  and tight. Unfortunately with CF you
don't get all the nutrients absorbed into  your body from the food you eat.
Cory needs to takes handfuls of pills  everyday to help with that. He stands
and brushes his lap and arms and now I  see his pants poking out at the lap,
so my touching apparently gave him  another stiffy. Free of hair clippings,
he helps me clean up the hair from the  floor. When it's dumped into the
waste basket and he looks at me as he sucks  on his lips, then says, "Please."
What can I do? I nod my head and wrap my  arms around him, then kiss his
mouth sloppily with him clinging to me moaning  quietly. The name 'Seth' pops
into my head. I've got to introduce Seth and Cory at the welcome  home party
this weekend. They're perfect for each other. They can have a  contest to
see who's sweeter. I'll judge the contest, although it'll probably  be a tie.
Cory's okay as a make-out partner, but I don't have any sexual heat  for him
so it's different than making out with guys I feel sexual heat for. I
don't know why Cory's not sexier to me, I only know he's not. Having said  that,
I'm a huge fan of guys around my age generally speaking, so it's not  that
I don't enjoy making-out with Cory, it's just not very sexually arousing  to
me. He, on the other hand, obviously feels sexual heat for me, that's if
his raging boner is anything to go by. That and his moans of  desire.

I know from past experiences  with Cory, rare as they may be, that he'll
have a premature ejaculation if we  make-out any longer, so I pull his pants
down past his narrow hips to his  ankles, his normal size boner bobs up and
down as he goes, "Ooooh, God." I  mumble, "Step out of those pants, Cory,"
and I take mine off too. I stroke his  boner twice and feel it's wet with
precum, then turn around, murmuring, "Try  not to go too fast, okay?" He grunts,
"I can't breathe," as I feel the head of  his cock at my asshole. Holding
me at the waist, and moving only his hips, he  humps the head of his cock
past my sphincter muscle and groans, then mumbles,  "I'm gonna cum," but he
doesn't. His chest is up against my back as he rubs  his hands on my stomach.
He puts his face against the back of my shoulder,  breathing in fast bursts.
I can feel the warm moist bursts of air on my right  shoulder blade. Inch by
inch his boner goes up my ass with quiet whines of  sexual arousal from
Cory. He's hugging me now with his arms capturing my arms  and against my sides
giving me a touch of claustrophobia. When his boner's all  the way inside
me, he moves his face back and forth against the back of my  shoulder and
presses his groin tightly against my ass. Not moving for fifteen  seconds or
so, he murmurs, "I'm gonna try it now, I think I'm okay." I feel  his body
shuddering against my back as he moves only his hips slowly pulling  his boner
back out of me. His toes are against my heels as he moans, "Mmmm, oh  my
God, mmmm." A hard cock feels awesome in my ass even if I'm not  particularly
aroused, so I tighten the muscles in my rectum to increase the  awesome feel
of his cock. As he pushes it back up my ass he's making a long  hissing
sound sucking air in past his mostly closed mouth. Then three faster  trips back
and forth in my ass gets my dick to finally take notice and it  stirs. More
steady back and forth penetrations as he moves his face back and  forth
against my back, and then he starts fucking me fast, moaning constantly.  My
rectum sends out pleasure sensations as my prostate sizzles and I finally
have a nice boner, but almost immediately, Cory yells, "Aaaaah, oooh,
fucccck." His groin's plastered against my ass and he's humping against by  butt
cheeks. I feel one shot of spunk hit the walls of my bowels, then  another!
It's rare to feel more than the first one. It's extremely sloppy in  my rectum
now and cum is running down the back of my ass cheeks with Cory  making
desperate strangling sounds. Bumping his forehead against my  shoulder he fills
me up with his creamy spunk,  teaming with  spermatozoids, that are blindly
searching for an egg that doesn't exist. He  whines without moving and then
begins rapid out of control thrusts with his  cock until it pulls entirely
out of my ass and goes up against my right butt  cheek. He keep humping it
against me, up and down, up and down tightly against  the skin of my butt
cheek. It moves flatly between us spreading cum around my  right buttocks and
his groin. Cum is drooling out of my ass and rolling down  the back of my legs
now. "Oooh, oooh, God," from Cory, his body's  shaking and his forehead's
bouncing off my shoulder again, then he lays  against my back unmoving and
gasping for air, his heart's beating against my  back as fast as a
hummingbird's heart. After twenty seconds, he murmurs, "I  feel week, I gotta sit
down." He backs up and sits on the same desk chair I  used for his haircut.

I turn around and squeeze his  shoulder affectionately, quietly saying,
"That was a good one, Cory." He's  taking deep breaths, then he gasps, "I know
I made a jackass of myself, but I  honestly thought I'd pass out when I
climaxed. I swear to God I thought I was  going to collapse. It was intense,
surreal, the whole thing was like out of  this world, and I wasn't even as
nervous as I was last time, but wow that's a  rush like no other. I can't even
explain how awesome it was. Jesus, I thought  I'd never stop cumming. Your,
um, rear end, it's like magical." I say, "You've  got yourself a hot cock
there too Cory." He shrugs, muttering, "Man, that was  awesome and nothing like
a hand job, nothing at all like a hand job." I pass  him a box of Kleenex
and he pulls a few tissues out and absently wipes his  dick, then looks up at
me, and asks, "Can I lay down? I'm sorry for being such  a wuss, but I
gotta lay down." I go, "Sure," and taking hold of his arm I help  him up and
over to the bed. He lays on his stomach, takes another deep breath,  and
mutters, "Thank's, Dylan." He does what I often do, he buries his face in  my
pillow. I don't bury my face in my own pillow, but when I get the chance I  bury
my face in other guy's pillows so I can enjoy their scent. "I'm gonna
clean up, Cory. Lay there as long as you like." In the bath room I check the
back of my legs in the mirror and there's a lot of cum all the way down to the
 back of my legs to my heels. That boy had an enormous load in his nuts and
he  shot all of it up my ass. I wonder how many days he went without
jerking off  looking forward to fucking me. And I use the word 'fucking' loosely
here.  Hell, I never came close to an orgasm. This doesn't even count as
buddy sex.  It was, um, therapeutic sex for a friend. I wonder if sex therapist
have  therapeutic sex with their patients? That'd be a little dicey I'd
imagine.  Anyway, I use a washcloth to clean my legs and ass, dry off and then
wash my  face and hands. Back in the bedroom Cory's on his back now, hugging
my pillow  to his chest smiling. He says, "How you keep from laughing out
loud at my  pathetic screwing attempt is amazing to me, Dylan. If I wasn't so
turned on  I'd laugh at myself. What a fucking wuss I am. Look at my face."
Yep, it's  dark red from another deep blush. He says, "I'm totally
humiliated, but other  than that I feel great! Ha ha."

Sitting on the edge of the  bed I say, "You need a boyfriend."  He goes,
"Yeah, I fought myself about  admitting I was gay like forever, and I'd
probably still be denying it to  myself if it weren't for you. Then I tried
telling myself I'm only gay with  you, but that's bullshit too and I know it. So,
yeah, I need a boyfriend. How  the hell am I gonna accomplish that though?
You helped me get over some of my  shyness, but I'm not exactly gregarious
and outgoing with strangers and I  don't really have any friends, not real
friends. Except you, and you're  already taken." I go, "Next weekend at the
welcome home party for Connor and  Dodger, I'm gonna introduce you to a gay
friend of mine who I think you'll  like a lot." He says, "I'd like to be
Connor's boyfriend, but he's in the  Army. We've been emailing and he's really
nice." I go, "Yes, Connor's a  sweetheart. I love that kid, and you definitely
should stay friends with him  because he won't be in the Army forever. Two
years seems like a long time to  us now, but it's not in reality and will
pass faster than you think. In the  meantime check out my friend, Seth." He
goes, "I'd love to meet him! Any one  you introduce me to I know will be
awesome." I grin and pat his leg, saying,  "Lets get dressed and have some
dinner." As we're getting dressed, he says, "I  don't feel right you buying me
dinner again," and I go, "Don't give it a  thought, Cory, it's my pleasure. I
like doing things for my friends." He  shrugs, "Well, I don't feel right about
it, but thank you. You're like one in  a million, ya know that?" I go, "One
in a million? I was hoping to rank higher  than that." He goes, "Okay, one
in a million,  fifty."

Outside it's pouring rain. I  see his shit box car in the second row of
parked cars so we shouldn't get too  wet. I don't even own an umbrella,
umbrella's are for girls and nerds. We  stand in the doorway looking at the rain,
as I ask, "How'd you get such a good  parking spot, Cory?" He says, "I don't
know, it was an empty spot so I took  it." Hmmm, there's something going on
between me and this parking lot, I can  never find a close spot to park. We
make a mad dash for the car getting wetter  than I expected. The 99
restaurant isn't far from our apartment, it's a mile  down from Bertucci's on the
other side of the street. Cory's right, the  ninety-nine is always busy with
lots of cars in the parking lot. Their food is  very reasonably priced for
one thing, but I've only been there once myself and  I think it was part of
the celebration for graduating high school. I forget if  I liked the food or
not. We wipe the rain off our heads as Cory apologizes,  "Sorry I acted the
fool, Dylan, when we, um, you know did it. It's just such a  hugely exciting
thing to fulfill a dream, and to do it with you is amazing.  I'm not kidding
about that either, truly amazing." I go, "No more putting  yourself down,
Cory, please. Okay? You did fine and I'm happy for you." He  nods his head
grinning, "Got 'cha, I promise not to bring it up again, it just  that you've
helped me so much and..." I go, "Cory! No more, please. We're  going to the
ninety-nine restaurant. I'll tell you about Seth over dinner,  okay?" He
grins, "Right, got 'cha," and starts the car. Surprisingly it starts  right up.
As if reading my mind, he says, "It looks like a junker, my car  does, but
I know a guy from high school who's a genius with car motors. We're  not
exactly friends, but we got along okay in high school. I guess because  he's
kinda a loner like me, so once in a while we hang out." I go, "Could he  be
gay?" Cory says, "Ralph? No way! He's got this girlfriend, a fat girl
actually, who he claims he's in love with. He confided in me during our senior
year he got her pregnant." "Did she have the baby?" He goes, "Not that I know
of. I'm pretty sure she didn't or he'd be telling me about the baby, but I
don't know exactly what happened."

On the way we pass Dick's  liquor store. This guy Dick is apparently not
too bright, although I've never  been in the place or met him. His sign says,
DICK LIQUOR instead of Dick's  liquors. Maybe he's a dick licker, I don't
know. The sign could be advertising  something besides just liquor. There's a
Chinese restaurant in town called  HUNG FAR LOW which probably the owner
doesn't get the humor that some might  interpret from his sign, or maybe he's
boasting. At the restaurant we make  another mad dash for the door. Inside
the place looks larger than it appears  to be from the outside, so we get
seated right away. We check the menus, drink  some water, and look around.
Nothing special decor-wise. Kind of drab and the  table's sticky, plus the
silverware looks like it's made of tin and it's  wrapped in a small paper napkin.
There are lots of families with children  around us, and there's lots of
booze being served to the parents, maybe  because of the children. The kids are
a little bit wild and loud at the two  tables next to ours. Oh well, on the
other hand, the ninety-nine offers nine  entrées for $9.99, so that's
fairly inexpensive for a restaurant dinner. Cory  look up from his menu, and
says, "This is really a nice restaurant, Dylan.  Everything looks and sounds
really delicious! I don't know what to get." I  smile, wondering if we both
have the same menus. Maybe Cory's referring to the  glossy pictures of the
entrées in the menu. The food does look very enticing,  but then so does the
food in the pictures of burgers at McDonalds. What  actually gets served is
another story. It's but a poor representative of the  pictures, hardly
recognizable as the same thing actually. I'm worried that  will be the case here.

Then things brighten-up as a  our waiter appears. A redhead with a recent
buzz cut and freckles across his  nose and big blue eyes to go with a really
cute smile. His boyish sounding  voice asks, "How are you tonight, welcome
to the ninety-nine. I'll be your  waiter tonight, my name is Stephen. Would
you like a drink to start off with?"  I say, "Yes, Stephen, two draft beers,"
and he spouts off about twelve beers  available on tap. I choose Coors and
off he goes. Cory asks, "Do you know him?  We don't look twenty-one and he
didn't even ask for ID." I shrug, "It almost  never works, but once in a blue
moon if you ask confidently for a beer an  inexperienced waiter or
waitress, or one who's worn down and doesn't give a  shit any more, will just get
what you ask for rather than argue with you. This  kid's cute, don't you
think?" He goes, "Ya think? Ha ha, cute doesn't do him  justice." I go, "Huh, I'm
pretty sure you need to be at least twenty-one to  serve booze, but he
doesn't look like he's out of high school." Steven returns  with our beers, sets
them down, then recites the specials. He has a chipped  front tooth adding
to his very Huck Finn, boyish appearance. The chip tooth  also causes all of
his sibilant 'S's to make a small whistling sound. To keep  him talking I
ask him if the ninety-nine is similar to The Loft restaurant  that's about
three miles further up the road. He whistles "Similar styles,  yes," and I
grin at him trying not to chuckle. Fuck, he's so cute. I ask him  about the
salmon which I wouldn't order if it was free, but it starts with the  letter
's'. He whistles, "The salmon is served with a butter sauce," three  whistles
there. I finally say, "You're awesome, Stephen, I'll have the fried
chicken." He whistles, "Super choice," and Cory orders grilled Angus  meatloaf.

When Stephen leaves Cory  laughs, then says, "You're awful, Dylan. Making
him say words beginning with  'S'." I go, "He's cute with that whistle. Did
you see how pink his mouth is  and those white teeth of his? Jeez, what a
make out he'd be." Cory then  surprises me by pointing out Stephen's great ass
and large bulge in his pants,  then he says, "So he must be really hung,
huh, Dylan?" I didn't realize Cory  was undressing our waiter in his mind like
I was. I figure Stephen will  definitely have freckles on his arms and ivory
white skin with bright orange  pubic hair like Sonny. Heh heh. My so-called
country fried chicken dinner  supposedly comes with garlic mashed potatoes
which mean they'll be lumpy  because the potatoes aren't whipped. Also what
they call country gravy comes  with the meal and I don't think I've ever had
that. It sounds like a Southern  thing. The dinner also includes corn, a
honey glazed biscuit, and cranberry  sauce. With the meatloaf Cory's supposed
to get scallop potatoes, a red wine  sauce for the meat, and sautéed
mushrooms, plus onion rings. Both entrées  sound good and their picture looks good,
now all that remains to be seen is  how they look and taste in reality. We
drink out beer as I tell Cory about  Seth. Just for shit's and giggles when
I say 'Seth' I purposely make a little  whistling sound and we get into a
childish giggling fit. Cory says, "Stop  making fun of him, he's a sweet guy."
I go, "I wouldn't make fun of him to  hurt his feelings in a million years.
I think he's the coolest waiter I've  ever had."

Stephen brings the meals and  as he serves mine his face is close and I see
peach fuzz on his upper lip. I  go, "Do you mind if I ask how old you are?"
He grins at me, "In here I'm  twenty-one, but in school I'm eighteen. My
dad's one of the cooks, he got me  the job," and then he puts his finger,
pointing up, to his lips, and whistles,  "Shhhh,' with his cute grin. I could
eat him up. He takes off and Cory says,  "I think I'm in love." For the first
time I look at my plate of food instead  of at Stephen, and ask Cory, "Do
you think we got what we ordered?" He says,  "It doesn't look like the
picture, but there's plenty of whatever this is." He  cuts off a piece of his meat
and chews it, swallows and says, "Meatloaf, it's  good." I try mine and it's
fried chicken covered with the pale gravy, the  country gravy. It very
different, but good too so I go about eating everything  on my plate except the
canned corn. The food is far, far away from gourmet  food, but tasty and it
was served hot. When we're done eating the corn is left  on my plate and
nothing's left on Cory's. He asks, "Can I have your corn?" We  exchange plates
and he eats the corn too. A bus boy, who isn't cute at all,  clears away the
dishes and then Stephen reappears, "How was your meal?" We  tell him it was
very good and he asks, "Dessert?" as he passes dessert menus.  I point at
the picture of a chocolate sundae asking, "Is this any good?" He  whistles,
"The sundae?" I nod, and he goes, "The sundae's super," exaggerating  the
whistle, then he laughs, and says, "I chipped my tooth yesterday and I'm  sort
of enjoying the whistle as much as you are." What a hot shit this kid is.
He knew I was busting his chops, and he knew it was all in good fun. We both
get sundaes and coffee. I leave a big tip and then we're outside. The rain
has  stopped and I'm dying for a cigarette, but I won't smoke around Cory,
so I  ask, "What do ya wanna do now?" Cory says, "Will I be considered boring
if I  head for home now? I've got to cover for a part time supervisor's
shift early  tomorrow morning and then do my own shift. I'd better get some
sleep. You've  been fantastic, Dylan." I say, "It's been fun, Cory." He grins,
then mumbles,  "I don't have words to express how grateful I am to you for
everything! Thank  you." I say, "You're welcome and you're not boring for
going home now, it's  the sensible thing to do." He drives me home saying he
hasn't felt this full  ever, and he loves eating in restaurants but he rarely
gets the chance to. It  makes me feel sad for him that the ninety-nine
restaurant is like some big  treat. And he never says anything about feeling
sorry for himself, ever. That  wouldn't be Cory. I give him a kiss goodnight and
he says he's coming over  tomorrow for another haircut... ha ha. What a
great  kid.

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

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