Date: Mon, 22 Jun 2015 12:02:18 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR Chapter  75

DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR


Chapter  75


By  Donny Mumford


During our dinner  Monday night at Bertucci's Robby and Ryan bitched about
the two hour review  class they had to endure earlier today. Two hours is
agonizingly long, and  without a break too, but making matters worse the
review ran twenty minutes  overtime. Brown-nosing assholes kept asking the
professor questions that  related only to the person asking the question. Those
questions should be  asked one-on-one with the professor in his office.
Listening to my  friends bitching and griping I consciously avoided any sign of a
snicker or  smirk from me because of course I was laying around the
apartment following  doctor's orders, so didn't attend that class. We finish dinner
at eight-thirty  and after dropping Ryan off at his dorm, Robby gave me a
sexy bath. What a  sexy luxury being bathed by my lover. Yeah, but because of
my concussion we  weren't able to have sex after the bath. We both got
sexually aroused  obviously, but super-conscientious Robby said we need to wait
at least until  the forty-eight hours is up before doing it. So my
concussion was a big plus  for me, and then a big minus.


It's weird the way I've  had tons of sleep since hitting my head and yet
I'm tired again tonight. I  sleep right through the night, another twelve
hours of sleep... nine-thirty  pm to nine-thirty am. Getting out of bed Tuesday
morning I cautiously test my  condition by moving my head around a little to
see if  the dizziness  returns. When I don't notice any I get a little
reckless and do that fast up  and down head nodding, like a bobble-head doll. It's
what I sometime do when  I'm emphatically agreeing with something Ryan
tells me. Ryan used to do that  in the early days when Robby told him something,
and then  later Ryan did the fast head nod when I'd say something like,
'Ryan, ya wanna sneak off and have a  little sexy play?'  Somewhere along the
way though he became the Alpha dog in our  relationship and now when I want
to please Ryan I'm the goof doing the fast head nods agreeing with him. I
kinda like doing it  and watching him happily grinning. It doesn't take much to
make Ryan happy.  Anyway, there's no dizziness so I'm encouraged by that,
except Robby comes out  of the bathroom, frowning and asking, "Why are you
nodding your head like  that?" I go, "Testing for dizziness," and he grins,
"So, you're feeling better  this morning?" I go, "A lot better, Rob. The
dizziness  appears to be a thing of the past, and man, I'm grateful for that
because  feeling dizzy is very disorienting, making me feel weak and helpless."
I  mention only positive signs that I'm getting back to normal, so I don't
mention it's too fucking bright in here.


Like me, Robby's  wearing only his boxer shorts and he looks sexy so I sort
of lean against  him. He hugs me murmuring, "I was worried about you, babe.
It's a relief  you're feeling better. All that sleep you've been getting is
exactly what you  needed. Don't get overconfident though and overdo it
today. Continue to take  things nice and slow." He gives me another hug,
murmuring, "Jesus, you had us  all scared Sunday night." I'm looking at Robby's
face up close, and to get  off the topic of my
concussion, I go,  "You're getting a mustache, Rob, and chin whiskers too."
He's chuckling,  "Yeah, you mentioned that before and I told you it's more
like fuzz than  whiskers." I go, "Well it's a good start. Maybe you'll be
like Ryan and  seemingly overnight you're growing a sparse beard. As for me in
that  regard, forget about it." He rubs my head and then hugs my head
kissing the  side of my forehead, murmuring, "Why all this interest in whiskers?"
I shrug,  "Because they're sexy of course." He laughs, "You used to hate
whiskers and  body hair." I say, "Rub my head some more, that feels good." He
uses both hand  rubbing my scalp with his fingers, mumbling, "You like being
touched more than  anyone I've ever known." My scalp tingles as I say,
"Yeah, I guess I  do."

We do a little mini  make-out wearing only the boxer shorts we slept in.
Robby's bare body against  mine feels so hot and sexy and smooth. Oh man, I
love that! Eventually we get  dressed in loose fitting clothes with baggy
sweat pants and oversized  sweatshirts. We'll be sitting through two review
classes today so we need to  be comfortable. Some students come to class wearing
pajama bottoms and a  t-shirt, but that's a little 'much' if you ask me.
Anyway, after today we have  only one more formal review class. It's a bit of
a stressful time because all  three of us want the 3.0 GPA for our entire
sophomore year. Wednesdays have  been free days for Robby, Ryan, and me all
throughout our sophomore year, but  Robby will probably have us reviewing
during our day off. Danny has two of the  same courses we have so he'll be part
of our study group for those courses.  Robby's mostly been the driving force
making sure we make the most of the  study groups. Many college students
approach finals using the cram-all-night  method of studying for exams. I
think they do it that way because it's cool to  bitch about an all night
cramming session, and it's also sort of a college  tradition, but a dumb one.

I'm in the kitchen  making coffee when Chubby walks out of his bedroom
wearing only jockey  underwear, yawning and absently scratching his balls, "Mmm,
that coffee smells  good, brother. How ya feeling this morning?" I give him
the mug of coffee I  made for myself, then we hug and do a kiss on the lips
real fast, both of us  with peppermint breath from just having brushed our
teeth. "I'm feeling much  better today, Chub. How ya doing?" He puts light
cream in his coffee,  then three sugars, cheerfully saying, "I'm feeling
fabulous, bro, and very  relieved my big brother is recovering from that nasty
concussion." I put  another K-cup in the coffee brewer and it begins brewing
another mug of  coffee. Chubby says, "Hey, get this, bro. I saw a septic
tank truck on 114  yesterday with a sign on the tank that read, 'Yesterday's
meals on wheels." I  frown, "That's disgusting, Chub... Jesus, septic tanks are
gross." He laughs,  "Yeah, a better motto for a septic tank truck would be,
'This truck is full of  political promises'." I yell, "Chubby! Please, I
have a weak stomach this  morning and I do not want to have a vision in my head
of bull shit in a tank."  He goes, "Oh, I'm sorry, bro. How about a little
maternity ward humor. Like a  sign on the door to the maternity room that
says, 'Push, Push, Push.'" I  mutter, "I don't get it," and Robby comes out of
the bedroom just as my mug of  coffee finishes dripping through the K-cup.
Robby says, "The coffee smells  good," So I say, "It's for you, Rob."
Walking by Chubby, Robby rubs his  head as they both say,  "G'morning, dude."
Handing him the mug of  freshly brewed coffee, I finally make my own mug of
coffee and sit next to  Chubby at the kitchen bar to drink it.


Chubby's slurping his coffee, and  after the third slurp, I stare at him
until he laughs, asking, "What?" and I  say, "Don't slurp, Chub, it's rude."
He goes, "The coffee's too hot," and I'm  like, "Well then, wait until it
cools a little. Next thing I know you'll start  eating with your mouth open."
He makes a funny face at Robby who's grinning at  our teasing exchange. He's
used to Chubby's and my 'tic for tat' bantering. I  add, "And fer chissakes,
Chub, put some fucking clothes on." He gets off his  stool grinning
mischievously then hugs me from behind, saying, "It looks like  my beautiful big
brother needs to teach me some fucking manners. I don't wanna  make a slob of
myself out in public and embarrass him." I go, "Yeah, okay, I'm  being an
asshole again, is that what you're saying? Sorry if I sounded like a  snob,
Chub." He squeezes my shoulders, "You couldn't be a snob if you tried,
Dylan." I go, "Thanks, Chub, and you can slurp to your heart's content as far  as
I'm concerned, and make all the mouth noises you want when eating naked
with your mouth open. I'll love you anyway." He hugs me tightly, cheerfully
saying, "Ah yes, words to live by, bro, but I think I'll take your first words
 of wisdom and pattern myself after that Emily Post-ish etiquette advise
you  gave me." Robby and I grin, slowly shaking our heads because Chubby's
always  upbeat and full of energy, even most mornings.


When he sees Chubby and I are done  with our little teasing episode, Robby
mumbles, "How do you do it, Jeff?  You're always 'up'." Chubby pops a pop
tart in the toaster, saying, "Why be  glum? It's easier to be happy and enjoy
yourself, especially now that my  beloved brother is on the mend after that
accident that would have  incapacitated guys twice his size." That makes me
laugh, "I don't think size  has much to do with it, Chubby. Well, maybe if
someone's head was twice as big  as mine the bump on the head might not have
affected him like it did me."  Chubby's back on his stool slurping on
purpose now, then he goes, "Oh, by the  way, bro, I need a haircut sometime before
you take off on that bogus Georgia  trip." Robby says, "Me too, Dylan, I
want to lose the ponytail and get in my  summer-job frame of mind, and before
the three days of meetings I'm having  this weekend." I say, "Okay, haircuts
tomorrow when we don't have course  reviews?" Robby's like, "Tomorrow's
good," and Chubby says, "Tomorrow's good  for me too, Dylan. Have your people
coordinate with my people and decide on a  time. I have a study group at
three o'clock Wednesday so we'll need to work  around that." Robby says, "Heh
heh, I'm gonna freak the guys on the team out  with my new look. I'm thinking
maybe I'll go with a flat top for old time  sake." I'm putting my mug in the
dishwasher as Robby confirms what I already  assumed, when he says, "You
know we're having a study group Wednesday, right  Dylan?" I mutter, "Of
course, Rob," thinking haircuts tomorrow will be fun,  although I can't say the
same for the one Ryan's giving me  Thursday.


Robby and I drive the  short distance to Merrimack and after parking the
pickup he needs to be  at the baseball office to sign some papers. Something
to do with next year's  liability insurance. I watch him jog off admiring how
graceful and coordinated  he is. I wonder why that doesn't translate to his
dancing technique. It makes  me smile, loving him all the more that he's
not perfect at everything. I  wander over to Ryan's dorm figuring I'll hook-up
with him and walk to the  Rodger Center together. As I'm approaching his
dormitory I see him coming down  the steps alone. Stopping in my tracks, I
stare at him for a minute feeling my  nuts tighten up.  He doesn't know I see
him as he stops to look at his  reflection in the first floor's glass door.
The way the sun's hitting the  glass Ryan sees an almost mirror reflection of
himself. He looks around, then  stares at himself patting his pompadour
with his fingers, then he takes out a  pocket comb and adjust his preppy
haircut paying special attention to his  silly little pompadour. Just for shits
and giggles Dodger and Vinnie had me  replicate Ryan's preppy haircut. They
were especially intrigued by the  nineteen-fifties-ish pompadour. I've been
kidding Ryan about his since he came  back from Easter weekend with the preppy
haircut, the one he got to  please his dad. Ryan's looking at his
reflection and combing his hair  carefully. Finally he's satisfied with it, but
continues staring at his  reflection. He takes off his backpack, then his sweat
shirt and looks at his  reflection again. His t-shirt is tucked in his jeans
and he apparently doesn't  care for the way that looks so he pulls the tail
of his t-shirt out and stares  at how that looks for a few seconds. No, he
doesn't like that either so he  tucks it back in and puts his backpack on,
then drapes his sweatshirt over his  shoulder, casual like. One last touch of
his hair pushing the pompadour down  just a tad, and he's satisfied with his
appearance. I'm grinning through this  whole routine, a routine I've been
through myself a thousand times. I'm  guessing he didn't want to do all this
primping in the lavatory because of the  other guys that were in there with
him. Too funny!

I'm letting him get a few yards  ahead before I jog up calling, "Ryan, wait
up." He stops and turns around and  gives me his special smile making my
knees feel weak. Sometimes this 'thing' I  have for him overwhelms me. With my
dick feeling funny, I stop a few feet  short of him, like I don't know what
to do. Still smiling, he goes, "Hi,  Dylan! Good morning! How do you feel
today." I shuffle my feet, hating myself  for acting like a geek. He asks,
"Any lingering concussion symptoms?" I  mutter, "Uh huh, but not much of
anything. I feel fine." Gathering myself, I  go, "And you're looking fine too,
Ryan. That pompadour is so cool," and he  makes a face, "Oh, that stupid
thing, I don't even bother with it anymore."  Taking the last few steps to him, I
quietly say, "It looks perfect to me." A  we stare into each other's eyes
he wets his lips moving the tip of his pink  tongue slowly across his lips
from left to right. The he puts a hand on my  shoulder and squeezes a little
causing a sizzling sensation to zip up my  spine. I shudder slightly as my
nuts change places, bang together, "Is  anything wrong, Dylan?" I shake my
head, "Um, wrong? No, like I said, I'm  feeling pretty good." He smiles, "I'm
glad of that, but you're acting kinda  weird, ha ha." I go, "Yeah, I do that
sometimes."He looks around, then grins,  "So, do ya wanna make-out a little
this morning, we've got the time. You know,  we can have a little morning
make-out like we used to before working on the  lawn cutting crew?" I nod my
head up and down real fast, feeling like a fool,  but I can't help myself.
Ryan laughs, "You nut. Okay then come on," and he  takes my hand looking
around, but there's no one in the vicinity. He pulls on  my hand and I follow him
around the side of the building we're next to and  find steps leading down
to a little landing in front of the basement door.  It's a cement stairwell,
and our heads are below ground level when we're at  the bottom.


I'm kinda in a fog  standing here watching Ryan drop his backpack and
sweatshirt, then he stares  into my eyes reaching over to slide my backpack off,
half a smile on his face.  Unable to catch my breath, I'm doing quick little
breaths and then I lean  against him hugging and clutching him. Our faces
rubbing together and our  noses slide against one another. Oh my god, he
smells so good and his curly  soft short scattered beard makes me shiver and
grope my package. Our lips meet  and we get into a wild make-out with whining
sounds of sexual desire from both  of us. Spit spreads all around our mouths,
my fingers are in his hair  destroying his meticulously combed preppy
hairdo. Oh fuck, he feels so good  I'm clutching his hot body humping into his
humping hips, then we grind  together while Ryan licks up the front of my nose
grabbing and letting go of  my buttocks and pushing a finger against my
asshole while pressing his crotch  against mine.As sexual arousal grows and an
orgasm builds and builds,  dizziness rears it's ugly head again. Gasping, I
whine as my body gets stiff.  I go, "Oh, oh, ahh, oh Ryan," and squeal with
cum pouring into my pants.  Another desperate hump with my forehead on Ryan
shoulder and his arms around  my back. I'm moaning as more cum shoots from
my hard cock. Ryan begins rubbing  my back, "Shh, shh, someone will hear you,
Dylan, shh." I'm limp, hanging onto  Ryan now while a tilt-ya-whirl of an
incredibly sexy  orgasmic sensations buzz around my groin.


After catching my  breath, I murmur, "You're so hot, Ryan, but goddammit I
didn't want to cum in  my pants. How am I going to go to class with wet cum
soaking through my  khakis?" With a hand on both my shoulders he holds me
away from him and we  look down. Sure enough there's a spreading cum stain all
around the zipper of  my tan khaki pants. Ryan says, "Wow, you were really
horny." I mumble, "What  do you expect? I've had no sex for days." He
chuckles, "Days, huh? Come up to  my dorm, there's a clean pair of your khaki
pants hanging in the closet. You  left them there." I go, "Really? When'd I do
that?" He goes, "I forget  the details but you probably shot off in your
pants then too so I lent you a  pair of my boxer shorts and sweatpants." I go,
"Oh, are they yours? I wondered  where they came from."  Ryan's getting his
backpack on as I ask, "You  washed my khakis?" He shrugs, "Sure, I threw them
in the washing machine with  mine." I get my arm around his neck and hug
him against me, the side of our  faces together, "Ryan, it's like I can't
control myself around you sometimes.  You're so, oooh, I can't explain it. I
love you and can't get enough of you at  times." He mumbles, "Yeah, and I love
that you feel that way, Dylan. It's not  a bad thing, ya know?" I go, "I
know, but oh man, I got it bad for you, and  it's getting worse. I'll probably
jump in your lap at your house during one of  the Sunday dinners after we
get back from church." He grins, "I hope so," and  he rubs my head
affectionately, mumbling, "I love you too."  I'm getting  myself under control by now,
and wow, that orgasm felt good! Ryan helps me get  my backpack on and we
retrace Ryan's steps back to his dorm. Inside  his room we find Freddie's still
in bed. He's pulled the covers over his  head, saying, "Bloody bollocks,
Ryan, I'm trying to sleep, mate." Ryan  mutters, "Dylan's had an accident."
Freddie pulls the covers off his head and  gets up on an elbow, "Oh it's my
mate, Dylan, is it? Sorry 'bout your  troubles. Hey, what kind of wanker goes
to sleep on the sidewalk anyway?" I  go, "Good question, Freddie. Oh I, um,
spilled coffee on myself." He says,  "Well, you're having a bit of bad luck
the past couple of days, but keep your  pecker up. Spilling coffee on
yourself, heh heh, there's nothing posh about  you." I mumble, "I guess not, ha
ha," not sure what he means by that. Taking  my pants off I turn my back and
drop my wet underpants taking the pair Ryan's  holding out for me. Putting
them on Freddie's chuckling, but doesn't comment  on me changing my pants
right in front of him. I'm  emptying the pockets  of my cum stained khakis while
looking at Ryan, still feeling aroused by  him.

Ryan says, "Yeah, Freddie, for  sure Dylan's had some bad luck. Sunday
night was actually scary." Freddie  goes, "It sounded scary when you told me
about it." Then he asks, "Were you  sloshed, Dylan?" I go, What, Freddie?
Sloshed? Ya mean drunk? I wasn't falling  down drunk, no. A little hammered is
all." He asks, "Did that twat on the  sidewalk wake-up?" I'm pulling the
freshly laundered khakis on, mumbling,  "Twat? Um, it was a guy, but he didn't
wake up, no." Ryan says, "We gotta run,  Freddie, or we'll be late, so this
will have to be the end of your twenty  questions this morning." Freddie
laughs, "You cheeky bastard. See you boys  later." We wave as Ryan slams the door
behind us and we run down the steps. As  we're hustling to the Roger's
Center, I go, "Freddie's a cool guy, isn't he?"  Ryan goes, "Yep, that's one
more thing I need to thank you for... hooking me  up with him as my roommates.
He is a bit of a slob though leaving his shit all  over the room."

We get to the Roger's  Center before Robby. Ryan's doing some repair work
on his hairdo and as for  me, I'm staring at him again thinking he's so sexy
hot and yet I can't exactly  put my finger on why that Is. It has to be a
combination of things that  together I consciously find sexy about him.
Contradictions too, like him  wearing those little round glasses and he's kinda
small and therefore  would normally be considered a little nerdy, but instead
of nerdy he appears  sexy to me. He's got good hair too, and cute facial
features, but I don't know  how that adds-up to sexy. It must be something I've
subconsciously  decided is sexy, for unknown reasons. He's likable, but so
are a lot of  guys I don't have the hots for. Then there's another huge
contradiction of him  being submissive in every meaningful sexual relationship
he's ever had,  sometimes acting super submissive, but with me he's always
been dominant. I  even noticed a little of that the first time he fucked me,
and he continued  getting more dominant until reaching the pinnacle just
before last summer.  He's consciously toned down his dominance although he's
always been the 'top'  during sex, and the leader in our relationship. I think
he's probably  developed the perfect balance between being in charge and
dominant during sex,  without being mean or hurtful about it, and without
humiliating me in any way.  In fact he professes his love for me and has nothing
but compliments for me.  It's become mostly inferred that's he's in charge
because he hardly ever acts  like he is. It could be I'm projecting onto Ryan
how I want him to be.  Oh, what the hell, didn't I tell myself a little
while ago that I'm going to  stop analyzing everything to death. I feel the
sexual hots for him, and does  it matter why? I think he's sexy and I'll leave
it at that. And oh yeah,  there's his huge cock too. Can't forget that, or
the fact he knows how to use  it.


Robby comes running up  two minutes before class starts and we make it to
our seat in front and get  our notebooks out before the professor clears his
throat and begins. Then  follows ninety minutes of unbearable boredom except
for the fact it's becoming  increasing apparent to me that I know this
shit. That's a good feeling knowing  I'm going to do very well on the final
exam. We have lunch and then sit  through another two hours review class for our
three days a week course. Then  a little after three o'clock we're finally
done for the day. Robby has  baseball practice so Ryan and I drive to the
apartment in his Mini. We kill  some time drinking Snapple on the balcony as
Ryan's smokes a cigarette. I  still don't feel confident that my concussion
symptoms are totally gone, which  is why I'm not smoking. Ryan's laying on
the outdoor chaise lounge telling me  about a trip to Boston he's making later
today with Freddie. I'm leaning  against the railing looking at him, but
not paying much attention to what he's  saying, until he goes, "Oh, did I tell
you I can get us some weed if you want  some." I go, "Oh, no thanks. I
tried it and decided I like booze better." He  shrugs, "Well, I won't get any if
you don't want it, but Freddie does weed  often and I join him for a joint
or two once in awhile. I kinda like it as an  alternative to drinking. You
get mellow from a joint without a hangover." We  argue a little about that
because coming down off a drug high can be a bitch  too. Ryan claims he's only
experienced that problem early in the semester when  he was overdoing the
weed. I ask, "Ya wanna go down and watch baseball  practice for awhile?" He
says, "Yeah, okay," but he looks awfully comfortable  laying there.


I'm staring at him  again and then can't resist drifting over, grinning and
then laying on the  chaise lounge with him. Actually I'm laying on my
stomach, half on him and  half on the chaise lounge. He's on his back chuckling
at me with his fingers  playing with my hair. He murmurs, "I gotta tell you,
Dylan, I really love the  way you're always touching me and looking at me
with a look of love in your  eyes. Eyes don't lie, ya know." I snuggle in a
little tighter and he puts his  hand behind my head pulling it to him as he
leans down to kiss my lips and  then rub my head, asking, "You feeling any
better about us spending this  summer together?" I put my arm across his chest
and lay the side of my face  half on his shoulder and half on his chest, the
side of my forehead is against  his cheek with his soft curly sparse
whiskers giving me a tiny thrill. I  mumble, "Yeah, I'm feeling better about it
every day. I mean as far as you're  concerned because I trust you totally, but
I'm nervous about how your parents  will accept me." He says, "I guess I'd
feel the same way if I was staying with  someone else's family, but I'm
going to be looking out for you, especially  where mom and dad are concerned.
I'll make sure you're comfortable." We lay  like this in the late afternoon
sun on an unseasonably warm May day, warm for  New England anyway. His body
feels good and I can smell his scent, the one I  like so much, coming through
his t-shirt.  The side of my face is  partially on his left pec and it feels
hard, but comfortable too.


Of course, in this  position it's inevitable we get into another hot and
heavy make-out,  breathing hard, after which I tell Ryan, "I haven't had sex
in like weeks it  seems. So, pretty please would you give your boyfriend a
quickie?" Ryan insist the forty-eight hour curfew on  exertion isn't up yet
and so his answer is, 'no'. With a boner in my pants I  sit up acting a little
pissed-off, and Ryan goes, "What'd we say about  pouting? And I'm looking
out for your welfare, Dylan. Anyway you got over  exerted from our make-out
this morning." There's firmness in his voice and yet  he said that with a
smile and it just hits me the right way. I can't help but  smile a little,
muttering, "I'm not pouting," and lay back down, half on him  again. He goes
back to running his fingers through my hair and I could lay  like this for
quite awhile except it's getting me too horny and he won't have  sex so it gets
frustrating. He's horny too I'm guess because I feel his big  boner against
my hip. Finally he mutters, "Maybe we should mosey on down to  watch a
little of the baseball practice." I go, "I'm good laying here with  you. A little
more of us squirming together and I'm hoping for a spontaneous  climax."
Ryan slides out from under me and stands up, saying, "Well, babe, I'm  gonna
watch the boys practice for awhile. I should probably be there anyway  being
their gopher. You're welcome to join me." Fuck! I get up too. "Okay,  okay,
I get it. I never get my own way anymore. Swell!" He laughs, "You don't
have to come, Dylan." I go, "I know that, but I wanna go with you. It was my
idea in the first place. I was just saying it was nice laying with you,
that's  all. Jeez!"


During the short ride  back to campus I don't say anything, and as Ryan's
negotiating the parking  lot at Merrimack, driving down to the baseball
complex,  he says, "Are you sure you're ready for a summer of not having things
just the  way you want them?" I shrug, "Whatever," and Ryan goes, "It'll suck
for me if  you're going to be giving me the silent treatment every time you
hear the word  'no'. It'll be miserable for both of us." I take an
exasperated noisy deep  breath, muttering, "Yeah, I hear ya, Ryan." He parks,
asking, "Well, are you  going to at least try to be nice about it?" I look at him,
"I'm trying now. I  came with you, didn't I?" He says, "We'll chalk this up
to you being tired and  irritable because of your concussion. The symptoms
are obviously lingering,  and I suppose it takes a while to get over them.
Ya know, major league  baseball's protocol on concussions requires a minimum
of seven days on the  DL." I'm like, "Okay, you win. You're right in both
cases... I'm acting  childishly irritable, and my mild concussion is still
affecting me. I'm not  normally this grumpy, so i apologize." He goes, "Hell, I'd
be a bigger pain in  the ass than you ever could be if I had a concussion.
Come on, lets walk down  to the bleachers."


We watch the guys practice for an  hour and then I hate admitting, "I'm
tired, Ryan. Could you drive me back to  the apartment? I wanna lay down." He
says, "Absolutely, and I'll stay with  you. You know, at least until Robby or
Jeff get back." I trudge up to Ryan's  Mini freaked out a little about how
tired I am. Fucking concussions, huh? In  the apartment I lay on top of the
covers of my bed and go to sleep. I fall  asleep so fast I'm not even sure
if Ryan laid down with me. I'm hearing voices  from the living room when I
wake up. It's Chubby, Robby, and Ryan laughing.  After washing up in the
bathroom, trying to wake up fully, I walk into the  living room feeling weird.
The three guys give me smiles, hugs, and a few  kisses. Everyone's encouraging
me by saying I'll be over this thing in no  time. It makes me feel good,
but I'm still worried about symptoms getting  worse, so I don't join the guys
drinking a beer. They're having beers from the  twelve pack of Rolling Rock
Chubby got from John Beverly, who's not with us  tonight. Neither is Danny
so it's just the in-crowd, which Ryan's become a  part of lately. I wish I
was feeling as good as my friends so I could join in  with their wisecracks
and laughing. To be honest they sound a little too loud  to me, but I know
it's my concussion and not them. It's also too fucking  bright in here, but I
know it's only too bright for me. Feeling like I do  makes me realize I take
my good health for granted, only appreciating it when  I don't have it.
Chubby makes spaghetti and his own meatballs for dinner,  along with Italian
bread and a salad. I eat okay but I'm feeling out of sorts  and I'm just going
through the motions with the guys the best I can until I  can get back in
bed. This blows!


I miss out on the  forty-eight-hour sex eligibility Tuesday night with
Robby because I'm  sleeping. Wednesday morning Robby's up and dressed before I
wake up. I'm  definitely feeling better this morning, and while drinking my
mug of coffee I  join in with Robby, Ryan, and Chubby making plans for our
day. Chubby's got the  three o'clock study group he mentioned yesterday. The
rest  of us have a study group planned for eleven this morning. We'll do the
study  group and then have lunch. After lunch I'll give Chubby his haircut.
He  assures me, "I'll be back by two o'clock at the latest, Dylan." Okay, so
I'll  do his haircut while Robby's at baseball practice. I ask, "You want a
haircut  after practice, Rob?" He goes, "Yeah, if you don't mind, and Danny
asked me to  ask you if he could get a haircut after me." I nod, my head,
"Sure, no  problem. Um, what time are you heading back home tomorrow
afternoon, Rob?" He  shrugs, "Around four o'clock if I can get my shit together.
It's a noon start  for our last game so I should be ready by four. You're
coming with me, right?"  I nod, "Oh yeah, fer sure. Um, will you be busy Thursday
night?" He says,  "Yeah, I'm afraid so. There's a big meeting Thursday but
not about summer  landscaping. It's about the condo project." We've made our
plans so Chubby  takes off just as Danny's coming in the front door for our
study group. Chubby  bumps fists with Danny on his way out, and then the
remaining three of us all  give Danny a kiss 'hello'. He smells good and he
has super kissable lips so I  glance at him as Robby gets out the study
materials. Danny looks at me with  what I interpret as a shy grin as he's running
his fingers through his hair,  "Dylan, did Rob, um, mention about me getting
a haircut?" I tell him that  Robby did tell me and of course I'll give him
a haircut. Robby gets the study  group going as I'm thinking, Danny's
looking good and I like that he's shy  around me sometimes.


As we plod along with the review  I'm inconspicuously glancing at my fellow
compatriots deciding they're all  good looking and/or kinda cute. A
person's good looks or cuteness is  subjective of course, person to person. Maybe
there are some misguided people  who wouldn't agree with my assessment of my
three cohorts' appearances, but  those people would be wrong. Then I hear,
"Dylan? Is that what you'd check off  for a multiple choice question?" I look
at the guys looking at me, and mumble,  "Sorry, I'm having a little trouble
concentrating. Can I take a break?" I see  Ryan start to say 'no', but
Robby's goes, "Of course, Dylan, why don't you lay  down for fifteen or twenty
minutes." I nod, "Yeah, if you don't mind, Rob."  They're eyes follow me as I
walk into the bedroom. I feel like a creep because  I'm able to
concentrate, I was purposely daydreaming about, what else, boys,  guys, young men...
whatever you want to call them. After laying down for ten  minutes and beating
myself up for that sneaky move, I get up and proclaim my  head's clear, and
then I pay close attention during the last hour of the study  group.


It's ten after one when  we're finally done and it hits me that this is our
last real study group of  the year, and even better all our formal review
classes are behind  us. It's like a weight's lifted off my shoulders... whoa, a
feeling of freedom.  Okay, we'll still do short review before each final
exam, but then we're done  with our sophomore year. It's like I can see the
light at the end of the  tunnel now. I'm antsy for this year to be over, but
damn, I feel good right  now. None of us feel like buying lunch meat and
rolls to make our own lunch,  so McDonalds it is. After lunch Ryan gets a lift
back to his dorm. Freddie and  him are taking the Mini into Boston. Something
to do with Freddie's family.  Danny and Robby heading for their last
practice of the year, and I'm left here  in the apartment waiting for Chubby and
feeling okay, feeling pretty good  actually. Chubby does not get here by,
'two o'clock at the latest',  like he said he would, but I didn't expect him
to. I always allow a half hour  on either side of any time Chubby gives me as
'the latest'. He's not a person  who's a slave to punctuality and that's a
trait that won't serve him well in  the real world, but he'll smile and BS
his way out of any trouble his  tardiness causes him. At two-thirty on the dot
he pops in, grinning and  excitedly exclaiming, "I made it on time, bro! Ya
know, being on time for  stuff has been on my 'to do' list as a New Year's
resolutions, and I'm doing  awesome with it too." I'm grinning along with
him slowly shaking my head at  his convoluted logic. He charges across the
room and does an exaggerated hug  and  kiss. I say, "Hey, that was nice, Chub.
Remember when you were  hesitant to give me brotherly kisses? Isn't this
better?" He looks puzzled,  "Um, I don't recall ever being hesitant about
giving my beloved brother a  brotherly kiss." I laugh because he's full of it, I
had to get him used to  kissing me. I'm like, "Oh, my mistake," chuckling to
myself  and loving Chubby being Chubby.


When I've got the  clippers, guides, comb and scissors laying on a hand
towel lined-up on  the kitchen bar, Chubby and I go into his bathroom for the
shampoo part of his  professional men's salon treatment. I go, "Jesus Christ,
bro, how many towels  do you own?" There are at least six or seven bath
towels scattered around  the floor among various discarded clothing items.
Chubby says, "Oh, just kick  that shit out of the way." I can't help but laugh,
"Chubby I can't even drag  this straight back chair in here." He mutters,
"Well, you and Robby took the  room with the biggest bathroom." We go into the
'biggest bathroom' where  nothing's on the floor except the bathroom mat in
front of the shower stall.  Chubby takes his shirt off and sits in the
chair that I have facing away from  the sink. He goes, "Go nice and slow with
the shampoo, Dylan, you know I love  this part." I love it too so I do a slow
shampoo occasionally doing a  vigorous scalp massage. Chubby is quiet for
once as he enjoys being pampered.  His eyes close and his body's relaxes, and
he has a tiny grin on his lips. I  was like that when Robby shampooed my
hair at the start of last night's bath.  Finally I've got to rinse out the
shampoo and then to extend the  experience I rub in hair conditioner. Nothing
but a couple of contented sighs  from Chubby. After rinsing out the
conditioner and partially drying his hair  with a towel, I finish drying it with the
hair dryer, When done I lean down  and give him a five second kiss on his
lips. Without opening his eyes, he  murmurs, "That was nice, bro." I love
Chubby and if he was agreeable I'd have  sex with him any time he wanted. A
couple of years ago we'd make love together  on very rare occasions, but I'm
pretty sure that ship has sailed  now.


We go into the kitchen where  I have a stool pulled away from the bar to
the edge of the tile area. This way  the hair clippings land on the tile for
an easy sweep up, and not on the  carpet requiring a vacuum cleaner to get
then up. Also we're far enough  away from the kitchen so no clippings land
where food is prepared or eaten.  Chubby's last haircut, like Tracy's, was a
duplicate of the haircuts Ryan's  been giving me. Like Tracy, Chubby tells me
he wants the hair on top to grow  in more. Unlike Tracy, Chubby wants the
bare clippers on the sides and back  again. It's a style I see more and more
on professional baseball players. Kids  emulate their favorite professional
baseball players, so soon you'll be seeing  more and more high school kids
with this type of haircut. Actually I noticed  this style first on NFL
players. I started noticing it last year and it's  becoming the 'in' thing for the
style conscious male. Ryan doesn't know it's a  style thing though, he just
wants a very short haircut on me to remind me  who's in charge. Fuck, short
haircuts aren't a new concept to me because  Willie started the short
haircut stuff with me two years ago and probably  further back than that. Often
the dominant partner in serious sub/dom sexual  situations, and even more so
in master/slave relationships, insists the  submissive person rock extremely
short haircuts. Most of the guys I know  aren't aware of any of that though.


Chubby likes the  so-called white-wall sides because he's a little style
conscience and because  he likes to be different, but mostly he likes it
because it's the haircut I've  been getting. He buys the clothes I buy, gets his
ears pierced because I got  mine pierced, and he almost got a nip ring like
mine before I talked him  out of it. He's been like this since we were seven
or eight years old. It's  a contradiction though because it's me who
idolizes him, so I should be  emulating Chubby in all ways instead of the other
way around. Whatever, I  enjoy using clippers without a guide so I'm glad my
bro asks for that. I'm  taking the cut high up on the sides and back of his
head like Chubby wants it.  When I've done using the clippers there's very
little I can do to blend the  longer hairs on top with the basically absence
of hair on the sides  and top. The contrast is the whole point. Not a style I
prefer for myself if I  had my choice, but one that's fun to cut. The
problem with this haircut is  it's over too quickly only taking about five
minutes. I'm brushing  the clippings off Chubby's shoulders as he gazes at himself
in the handheld  mirror, saying, "Cool! This is such a cool look, Dylan.
I'm rocking with style  now, bro!" I mumble, "I wouldn't consider this my
favorite haircut, Chub." He  looks startled, "Well, why do we get it then?" Ha
ha, he said 'we', but I  don't want to go into the reason I have this haircut
because Chubby will  get pissed off at Ryan. I say, "Because it's unique
for one thing, but now  gaining popularity so I wanted to see if I like it on
moi. I'll probably go  for it a few more times before making up my mind."
That right there was little  white lie dangerously close to three thousand for
me, but that's better  than the alternative of explaining that I have this
haircut because Ryan  insists on it. Chubby goes, "Well, I really like it so
I hope you keep getting  your haircut like this too," and he feels the side
of his head, mumbling, "It  feels like fine sandpaper," and I go, "Uh huh,
it does. Um, Chub, I hope you  aren't rocking' this haircut just because I
am." He looks startled,  "What? Of course not, bro. Maybe I get the idea from
you sometimes, but like I  said, I like this haircut, it's cool!"


After putting his  sweatshirt on Chubby pats my shoulder, saying, "Thank
you, Dylan." Then he  asks, "You're definitely visiting me and the moms
sometime this summer,  right?" I go, "Absolutely and probably more than once
because I know I'm  really, really going to miss everyone, especially you,
Chubby." He goes,  "Ditto for me, Dylan. Anyway I'm not getting a haircut until
your visit. No  way I'm breaking the eleven or twelve years tradition
of my bro cutting my hair." I go,  "I hope not! Ya know, it's like I miss
you already." He's serious for a  second, "I guess I agree with what you told
me when we had the talk the other  day, you know... about you going with
Ryan. It might be good for  your growth and all, but I hope you know I'll be
thinking about you  everyday I don't see you. It's still you and me, Dylan,
forever." I say, "Of  course, Chub, we're still the greatest best friends and
brothers the world has  ever seen," and we hug again. He mumbles, "Hard,
it's going to be hard without  you, but maybe it'll be good too." He rubs his
nose, "I'm getting a  little emotional here, Dylan. I don't want to get all
maudlin on you or  anything." He pats my shoulder, "How about we get a
beer?" and that's what we  do. My first beer since Sunday night. It doesn't taste
any better now than it  did Sunday night, but drinking it with Chubby as we
reminisce about way  back in our childhood, that makes the beer taste fine.

Just as we're finishing  the beers Chubby gets a texts, then asks in a
serious way, "Um, is it okay if  I use the Jeep, bro? John Beverly needs a ride
to our study group."  I burst out laughing... he always uses the Jeep
without checking with me.  Oh god, I've got tears in my eyes from laughing so
hard. Chubby's chuckling  along with me, and then asks, "What? Why are we
laughing, bro?" I laugh again,  then take a deep breath. Holy shit that struck me
as so fucking funny, I go,  "No, I don't mind at all, Chubby. As a matter of
fact I think it's your turn  anyway." He goes, "Yeah, I think you're right
again, Dylan," Another hug,  "Thanks for the haircut, Dylan, but mostly
thanks for being you. Love you,  bro." I rub his head, mumbling, "See ya later,
Chub," and he's on his happy  way. I sit on the balcony surprised that I'm
not feeling tired. Ten minutes  later Robby and Danny come in and join me on
the balcony. We give each other a  kiss 'hello' and I realize somehow that
I'm finally feeling a bond developing  between Danny and me. Sort of a
brotherly, friendship bond rather than a  side-sex or lover bond. Without jealousy
clouding my judgement I can see Danny  for who he is, and he's a damn nice
guy who goes along in a friendly,  unassuming manner without making waves.
Robby and Danny take turns telling me  about the last practice and how all
the teammates were sort of 'down'  because the season's over for all intent
and purposes. I can see how  tight a team becomes and I kinda miss being on a
team. I got a taste of it  with the posse boys, both the good and not so
good aspects of it, but  mostly it was a good feeling belonging to something.
An idea occurs to me and  I say, "You know what I'm gonna do next year, guys?
I'm going to try out for  the Merrimack college paper." Robby goes,
"Awesome idea, Dylan!" Then he tells  Danny that I was the editor of our high
school paper, and he and I met because  of that. Being on the newspaper staff is
sort of like being on a team. I'll  make some new friends too.


After awhile, I ask, "Ready for your  haircut, Rob, and if so are you still
mentally prepared to lose that  ponytail?" Robby says, "I'm more than ready
for that,  Dylan. Like I told you before, long hair is a pain in the ass
and now that  I've rocked the ponytail a few months I don't need to do it
again. Just wanted  to see what's it's like and now I know." I mumble, "A
ponytail hasn't been an option for me in a couple of years." Danny  asks, "Is it
okay if I turn on the TV?" Robby goes, "Sure, Danny," and as  Robby and I
walk down the hall to our bathroom, I ask, "What kind of haircut  will be
replacing the ponytail?" Robby says, "For a trip down memory lane how  about if
you give me a flat top?" I go, "Oh, you were serious when you mentioned that
earlier, huh?" He says, "I  wasn't really sure about it then, but I am now."
I go, "No problem, seeing you  with a flat top again will sure bring back
some memories for me." He takes off  his shirt and sits in the shampoo chair,
which is actually a desk  chair. First I undo the elastic around his
ponytail and  then comb through his long hairs. Then, using the short hose with
the spray  attachment, I thoroughly wet his hair. Robby says, "Sorry I didn't
shampoo my hair in the  shower this morning, Dylan, but I was running late."
I mutter, "No, problem,  Rob."



When his blond hair is wet  I pour on lots of shampoo and work it in good.
Robby's eyes go to the  side, sort of looking up at me, giving me a grin
with a look of love in  his eyes. I lean down and kiss him sweetly on his sexy
candy lips for thirty  seconds or so. He smiles and lays back closing his
eyes. Everybody does that,  closes their eyes I mean, not the look of love in
their eyes part. I'm glad  most guys feel relaxed and comfortable having me
shampoo their hair. When I  first started the shampooing last summer some of
the guys didn't feel  comfortable at all, although most feel good about it
by now. With Robby  there's lots of suds and hair to run my fingers through.
I do that for awhile,  every minute or so leaning over to kiss Robby's face
here and there. He  grins every time but doesn't open his eyes. Maybe he's
afraid he'll get  shampoo in his eyes. What a handsome young man Robby's
turning into. He's  losing some of his youthful cuteness, but he still
qualifies as 'cute' in  my mind, although now I guess most people would describe him
as handsome.  Movie star handsome if you ask me. Sexy torso too, all
pinkish/white now but  by the end of June he'll have a nice tan from using his
family's pool and  from being in the sun all day on the job. I'll be missing my
tan working  in an office all day, and the Wilcox's don't have a pool.


After rinsing Robby's  hair and rough drying it with a towel, I finish with
the hairdryer leaving his  blond hair shiny and clean. He's losing the two
tone blond aspect to his hair.  It's become mostly all blond without the
lighter steaks that my hair still  has. Guess we're not the Bobbsey Twins
anymore. Boo hoo! Back in the living  room Robby asks, "Wha'cha watching, Danny?"
He says, "An afternoon Sox  game. They're losing eight to nothing." Robby
shakes his head, muttering,  "They suck this year," as he sits on the barber
stool. Using the awesome  scissors Tracy gave me I comb up a bundle of
Robby's clean hair, hold it  between my index and middle fingers, and then slice
through it with  the scissors, "Crunch," and a lot of seven inch long hairs
slide down  Robby's back. It's, "Crunch, crunch, crunch," for five minutes
reducing  all the hair on his head to about an inch and a half. The hair all
over his  head is even now and it looks like a buzz cut that's grown out for
a  couple of months. Robby runs his fingers through his hair, "Feels good
not to  have all that hair, Dylan. Um, since I won't be getting another
haircut from  you for awhile, make it a short flat top, okay." I mutter, "Sure
thing, Rob,"  and feel my dick move as my haircut fetish grabs hold of me.
Cool! Love  me some haircut fetish.

Putting a three-eight  inch guide on the Oster clippers I run them up the
sides and back of his head  taking the clipper all the way up to the spot
that just begins curving to  the top. After all we don't have square heads.
Well, most of us don't  anyway. Some block heads being the exception to the
rule. There's been so much  silky blond hair sheered from his head, sliding off
the clipper blades and  over my hand to land on his shoulders, lap, and
back before most of it  continues down to the floor that it's giving me a
boner. Not the hard bracing  boners I get during sex, but a nice feeling slightly
throbbing tight  cock I need to adjust a little bit in my pants. As
inconspicuously as  possible I move it sideways. Danny's back is to me and I'm
mostly behind  Robby, so I manage to get my boner sideways in my shorts without
anyone  noticing. My boner's content being sideways, but would prefer
sticking up  poking out the lap of my khakis .


Done the sides and  back of Robby's head the hairs there are looking
extremely short compared to  the hair on top. I use clippers over comb to blend in
to the hairs on top.  Next I comb up top hairs and run the clippers across
the comb reducing them to  an inch. Since Robby's hair has been laying flat
for months it  naturally lays flat on his head now, so I put gel in his hair
and brush it  back until it's sticking up all over the top. With a steady
hand,  holding the clippers without a guide, I start at the front and run the
 clippers back through his hair leaving just under an inch long hairs in
front  and gradually going shorter moving towards the crown until at the crown
the  hairs are only a quarter inch. This is a short flat top and won't
looks  it's best for a few weeks, then it'll continue looking good for a few
weeks  and after that before becoming more and more shaggy looking. Then he
needs  another haircut and I hope he waits for me to give it to him. It only
takes  five passes of the clippers to cover the top of his head. The hair is
completely even across his head, flat if you will, and therefore the name
'flat top'. Someone with less skill could really fuck up a flat top by not
having a steady hand to do each pass exactly the same as the one before it.
There's some more cutting I need to do, some additional blending before I'm
ready to use the trimmer clippers outlying around his ears and tapering the
 neck's hairline. "There it is, Rob, a short flattop." He feels the hairs
on top, asking, "How long will I need the glop in my hair training it to
stand  up like this?" I tell him, "In the past it took about a week and then
you  won't need the gel. Your dry hair will stand up by itself."


Robby and I brush loose hairs off  his shoulders and lap, then he stands up
as Danny turns around to look, and  yells, "Holy shit, Rob, that is so
fucking short! Oh my god, do I have the  balls to get one like that?" Danny said
that in a kinda shrill voice with his  hands doing something funny. Huh, he
seemed gay to me for the first time.  I wonder if Danny will gradually
pick-up some stereotypical  gay affectations as he gets older? That probably
depends on the  gay guys he hooks up with, not that there's anything wrong with
gay  affectations. It'd be kinda cute seeing Danny acting more gay. None of
us gay  friends acts stereotypically gay, but that doesn't mean we  never
will. I don't think I ever will, but others might. I can't see Robby  getting
like that, but it wouldn't shock me if Ryan developed some of  those
affectations. This is the first time I've given a thought to  any of my gay
friends 'acting gay', like some straights say. Danny made me  think of it though.
Observing Danny's reaction to Robby's flat top just a few  seconds ago, I
wonder... if I didn't already know he was gay, would I suspect  he might be
from the way he says things and moves his hands and head?  Danny's has his arm
around Robby's waist as he's feeling the short hair  on the back of Robby's
head, still going on about the haircut, "Oh my god,  I've never had a
haircut this short. What do you think, Rob, should I copy  you? Would you mind?"
Robby laughs, "Why would I mind, Danny? Get whatever  haircut you want.
Dylan's better than any barber I've been to be so you're in  good hands." Now Dan
ny's hugging Robby with both arms, saying a muffled, "I'm  going to do it,
I'm going to do it." Muffled because his face is against  Robby's shoulder
with Robby blushing a little and looking anywhere but at  me. Danny lifts his
head and kisses Robby on the mouth, then turns to look at  me, asking, "Can
you give me the same haircut, Dylan?" A flash  of jealousy whipped through
me when Danny kissed Robby, but only for  a second. I smile saying, "Of
course I can, Danny, but first  a shampoo."


Robby's looking at himself in the  mirror that's over the sofa, and then
with a shrug he plops down to watch the  game while continuing to feel the
hairs on the back of his head. Don't blame  him, it's a radical change. In the
bathroom I can tell Danny is still a little  uncomfortable having me shampoo
his hair, although I'd think he'd be used to  it by now since I've been his
barber the past five months.  Maybe  he's nervous about getting the flat
top and it has nothing to do with the  shampoo. In any case, after a quick
shampoo he still wants the flat top. For  his flat top I don't need to use the
scissors first because he has fairly  short hair to start with. It's a
couple of inches long on top, but certainly  nothing comparing to Robby's
ponytail. Skipping the scissors, I follow the  clipper cutting I did with Robby on
Danny and it takes only about ten minutes  to finish. I pat Danny's bare
shoulder, saying, "All done, Danny boy, a  replica of Rob's flat top." He jumps
up to look in the mirror, but I grab his  arm, "Wait, Danny. You'll get
hair clippings on the carpet." I pass him the  hand held mirror, "Look at
yourself with this while I brush the cut hairs  off you." I brush the clippings
from his shoulders and back while he stands  still moving the mirror around
trying to see as much of his new haircut as he  can. I give a thought to
brushing the hairs still clinging to his  lap, but decide not to, saying, "Danny
brush your lap." He does that then goes  over to grab Rob by the shoulders
and turns him enough so Robby can  see his flat top. Danny says, "We're like
a pair of twins, Rob," and  Robby stands up getting an arm around Danny's
neck, going, "I didn't think  you'd go through with it, dude. Let me look at
you."


With his flat top, if anything  Danny looks younger and a little cuter too.
Huh, Robby and Danny sure look  happy with each other, grinning and rubbing
each other's head. They make a  nice looking couple actually. Then Robby
steps away from Danny, and says to  me, "Thanks, Dylan, these haircuts are so
retro they're actually cool.  Don't ya think?" I nod, "Yeah, I guess.
They're definitely twin haircuts."  Robby sort of bites his lip, undoubtedly
remembering when he and I were called  twins. I smile at him to reassure him
every things alright between us,  and he says, "I wanna treat you to dinner
tonight, babe. Okay?" I glance at  Danny, so Robby says, "Danny's got plans for
tonight," and Danny says, "Yeah,  me and my roommate are going out to dinner
too. It's sort of an early break-up  dinner. He's been a good roommate so
we're hooking-up as roommates next  year too." I'm glad to hear that because
it wouldn't have surprised me if  Danny asked in on an apartment with us
next year. For something to say, I  mention the obvious, "Well, you're both
lucky roommates then. Too many  students, guys and girls, feel  their
roommate's are the negative part of  their college experience." Danny and Robby do
most of the clean up, sweeping  the cut hair into a pile as I'm cleaning and
putting away the barbering stuff.  We use a dustpan and brush to transfer the
pile of hair from the tile floor to  the trash bin.


Danny leaves shortly after that  and Robby says, "Come on and sit with me
on the sofa, baby. Let me tell you  how proud of you I am about something." I
sit down and look at him with a  questioning expression on my face. He
takes a deep breath, then goes, "Um, you  handled Danny's and my rude display of
affection very maturely. Throwing  our side-sex partners affection in each
other's face is not something you  and I do, or we shouldn't do it anyway."
I shrug, "It's not a problem, Rob,  really. I probably do worse with Ryan in
front of you, and if so I apologize  to you." He takes my hand and pulls me
so I'll sit next to him. "No, you're  too classy to do that to me, Dylan,
I'm the one who's been guilty of that  bad behavior from time to time." I go,
"Please, let's not rehash any old  unpleasant memories. They're in the past
and we've both been guilty of making  poor choices occasionally." He gets
his arm around the back of my neck pulling  my head over, murmuring, "Okay,
you're right. That's all in the past. Um,  I know Danny went a little
overboard this afternoon and I'm going to have a  talk with him about that. He was
overly excited with his flat top because he's  had the same haircut since
grade school and it was a big deal for him to  get this haircut today. A major
change for him." I say, "Like I said, it's not  a problem, Rob." He nods
mumbling, "Thanks," and all I can do is  shrug.


We watch the TV a bit while Robby  bites on his bottom lip, then asks, "Um,
do you like Danny?" I go, "Yeah,  sure, I like him, Rob, why?" He traces
the pad of his finger down my nose,  saying, "I don't know, I guess I'm asking
for your approval of him. He's  no Dylan Newman and he never will be, but
he's a good guy. Oh fuck, I  guess what I'm really asking is if you're mad at
me for hiring Danny  on the crew this summer and, ah, you know letting him
stay with me?" I  raise my eyebrows wondering how to respond to that, but
Robby goes on, "I know  that's what made you agree to let Ryan talk you into
spending the major part  of the summer with him. I take the blame for that
and I'm sorry." I go, "Well,  me deciding to try something new in Georgia
isn't just a Danny matter. There's  Seth to think of too. Him filling my spot on
the crew is important to him  because the company doesn't need him for
maintenance and repair during the  summer. Not after he worked all winter
getting everything set up for this  summer, and all the equipment in tip top
running order." Robby takes a deep  breath, "Yeah, there's that for sure. Seth
needs the money, but do you think  you might be able to reassure me that we're
still good, Dylan, you and  me? And we'll still be good when you join the
crew in August, and Seth goes  back to his real job?" I say, "Yes, I can
reassure you of that, Rob. I'm not  letting you get away from me."


He hugs me and I see  tears in his eyes, not that they're rolling down his
cheek. To change the  subject, I rub the short hairs on the back of his
head, asking, "Did I do the  flat tops too short for you and Danny?" He laughs,
"Yeah, they're pretty  short alright, but I love mine because you did it,"
and we kiss a long lovers  kiss that gets a boner growing in my pants. It's a
much harder boner than the  one I got from my haircut fetish. Robby hasn't
put his  shirt back on after his haircut and my hands are rubbing over his
back loving the feel of him. When we break off the kiss and the sides of our
 faces are together, I hear his deep breathing, and mine too. Our hearts
pound  fast against each other's chest as Robby's hands go to the bottom of my
 sweatshirt and pulls it up and over my head with me mumbling, "Don't mess
up  my hair." We both chuckle at that ridiculous comment and then, bare
chest  against bare chest, we make-out sweetly, not wildly out of control with
desperation kissing... just sweet tender loving kisses. We both know we'll
drag-out our love making as long as we can so there's no sense  of urgency
Robby's scent is so wonderfully familiar and sexy I  inhale it whenever we
come up for air. Mostly we're sucking each other's  tongue and lips and doing
French kissing and then licking around each  other's mouth exchanging so much
saliva it's impossible to tell who's  spit's in who's mouth. It's dreamy in
a much different way that I get  dreamy from sub/dom sex. This is
unmistakably lover's love-making  and it's very different thing.


We're gently  almost wrestling with each other as we kiss trying to feel as
much of the  other's body against our own as we can. Breathing deeply, his
face red  and a little sweaty, Robby murmurs, "Should we go into our
bedroom? Your  brother might come in." I nod my head and hold Robby's face between
my hands  to kiss him passionately, then quietly say, "You and me together
into the  sunset, Robby. You and me together forever. That's the way  it'll
be when everything is said and done, and the last wild oat has been  sown."
He smiles and this time tears do roll down his cheeks, "I needed so  badly to
hear you say that, Dylan. Thank you." When I see a guy cry, even if I
don't know him, I relate to him and so I have a few tears of my own rolling
down my cheeks too. We both wipe at each others tears, grinning at each other.
I mumble, "Don't get emotional, Robby, you know I can't resist joining in
and  we'll be bawling like little kids before you know it." He nods, grinning
 harder, mumbling, "You big baby," and I go, "You started it." We get up
and  walk down the hall with an arm around each other's waist.


In the bedroom Robby  kneels down on both knees to untie my sneakers, I
lift my food and he  pulls the sneaker off, then the sock. Same thing for my
other foot. Still on  his knees he unbuttons my pants and pulls them down,
then my underpants with  my boner bouncing. Taking my boner in his fingers
Robby puts it in his mouth  and sucks on it while moving his warm wet tongue
around the head. I make  a squeaky noise as my buttocks and stomach muscles
tighten on their  own. Robby doesn't do a lot of cock sucking, mostly I do it
for him. I'm  unaware what Danny and Robby do together though, so maybe
Robby's acquired a taste for it now. I know I've had a taste for it from  about
three years ago. I love sucking a young guy's cock, any size. Robby's
technique is basic cock-sucking 101, but that's plenty good enough to get me
grunting and squeezing Robby's shoulders having a hard time standing  still as
the nerve endings in my penis sparkle and shine with pleasure. Adding  to
the sizzling sensations his sucking is causing on my boner, I'm  looking at
his handsome face as he's totally concentrating on what he's  doing, a
concentration he gives to everything he's does, and that ups the  sexual arousal in
me. When he's got my boner sticking straight out of my body,  taut and
barely moving, he backs off my cock with my precum around his lips.  Licking it
off with his tongue he looks up into my eyes as he stands. I rest  my arms
on his shoulder and lean in for a kiss with my tongue in his  mouth swapping
some saliva for a taste of my precum.


We're in quiet moods  as I get on my knees and do everything Robby just did
starting with untying  his sneakers. He gasps when I take his cock in my
mouth and use a little  technique I've developed over the years of frequently
sucking cocks and it  gets Robby's cock bone-hard and fat in a minute and a
half. There's a nice  glob of precum on my tongue when I stand up and we
wrap our arms around  each other and kiss with his tongue in my mouth sliding
in his own precum.  Kissing until the precum's been swallowed; then, still
not talking Robby, has  a hand on each of my shoulders turning me around and I
automatically bend  over. He murmurs, "Lay your chest on the bed," so I do
that with my arms  stretched out in front of me. He adjusts my position by
pushing me tightly  against the end of the mattress. My ass is at the end of
the bed, my boner  sticking up between my stomach and the mattress. I push
my ass up  looking back at Robby who wets a finger and pushes it up my ass
with my  buttocks muscles clenching on their own, my inside and  outside
sphincter muscles doing the same. The silence seems to ring in my  ears and adds
to my anticipation. It's been a few days since my favorite cock,  or any
cock for that matter, has explored my rectum and I'm anxious to  experience it
again.


Robby leans against me with his  finger up my ass as far as it can go. He
pulls it out and adds the middle  finger pushing both fingers up there with
his hard cock leaning on, and  pointing up against my left butt cheek. I go,
"Mmm, oooh, ummm," as Robby  works his fingers back and forth in my ass
massaging my prostate. When I'm  squirming and moaning, he takes his fingers out
and lines up the head of his  cock. My face is on the mattress now as I
strain to get my ass up at the  right level for Robby to mount. His cock head
spreads the lips of my asshole  steadily. It feels so fucking fat my back
arches so he puts a hand on my  back, fingers spread as if to hold me in place
for my fucking. Putting  pressure on my back he humps his hips, driving the
head of his cock past my  sphincter, grunting, "Aaah," and then a long,
"Ooooh, yeaaah." Both hands are  flat on my back now just above my buttocks as
Robby forces his boner inside me  with me gritting my teeth as the walls of
my rectum are stretched more  than they appreciate and complain by causing
pain, but only momentarily.  They've been through this a couple of times
before and quickly get with the  program and relax allowing a warm spread of
pleasure up and down the  four-plus inches of my rectum, the part that's
currently occupied by Robby's  hard fat organ.


Another, "Oooh, umm,  ooh," from Robby as he leans against my ass and
grinds his hips before a slow  withdrawal that has me humping against the end of
the mattress, moaning,  "Mmmmmm, oooh, ummm," then he pushes it back up my
ass with my back again  arching again as my body shivers with pleasure. Robby
takes a hand off my back  to give my ass a few underhand smacks that don't
hurt so much as they get  me tightening the muscles in my groin and lifting
my head, going, "Oh yeah,"  and three harder smacks, "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!"
and then the sounds of  males fucking, a steady ,"Slap, slap, slap, slap,"
sound bouncing off the  walls of our bedroom and I can feel my orgasm already
accumulating in my nuts.  Robby continues steady semi-hard thrusts up my
ass with my nuts getting  harder and harder as they move up towards the top of
my scrotum. I'm rocking  on the bed now unable to keep tract of the
swarming sexual sensations in  my ass and around my anus. Nerve endings never stops
pumping out pleasure as  his cock slides tightly over my prostate and past
the lips of my asshole that  are gripping Robby's fat hard boner as it moves
back and forth inside me. I  never stop quietly moaning with pleasure at
the sensations bursting from  uncountable nerve endings.


I'm thinking my climax  is just about here with the steady, "Slap, slap,
slap," sound continue  ringing sexually in my ears. That applause sound for
males fucking  adds something to the our sexual act making it seem even more
intimate that our bodies are colliding steadily, "Slap, slap, slap," and
,"Ooh, ooh, ooh," from Robby, to go with my, "Mmm, umm, umm." The  deliciously
sexy thrusts of his cock up my ass is what's causing all the fuss,  that
awesome hard fat cock of Robby's. Just when I'm into the desperate  whining
stage before climax, Robby pulls his cock completely out, and murmurs,  "Turn
over, baby," and he helps me do that with a hand on each of  my hips. When
I'm on my back, my asshole vibrating at the edge of the  mattress, I lift my
legs bending them at the knees and spreading them.  Robby spreads my legs a
little further apart, then slides his slippery cock  back up my ass and
humps me fast and hard leaning over me, his face over  mine with a hand on the
bed next to both my shoulders, and it's a faster,  harder, "SLAP,SLAP,SLAP!"
I squirm on the bed doing desperate whines  again as the need to climax
builds and builds until it's here. My back  arches painfully, my body gets
scarily stiff and I gasp humping my hips  and squealing while moving my head from
side to side on the bed as cum's  shooting straight up in a long stream
that reaches it's peak, seem to  stay there a fraction of a second before
dropping down creamily on my chest.  Another squeal, my eyes closed absorbing as
much of the  indescribably awesome sexual sensation that I can as more cum
pumps up  from my nuts and is ejaculated out my steel pipe of a penis. Robby
gasps,  humps into me and holds his groin against my buttocks, grunting,
"Ahhh,  oooh fuck," as he humps against me moving me an inch or two back on
the mattress with each hump. Then with his face scrunched-up, Robby  shoots
his creamy load of semen inside me and it feels a little warmer for a  second
and then it's all kinds of sloppy inside my bowels as Robby gasps,  then
drops his head down on my chest and my arms go around his sweaty head  with him
doing three more hard humps against me before his body goes  limp.


He moves up my body so his head is  next to mine with his cock pulling out
of my ass to lay wetly against my  thigh. My cock is pressed between us
along with cum squishes between our  chests. We both breath nosily for a bit,
then I feel Robby's forehead next to  mine and he feels hot. I put a hand on
his forehead, "Robby, you have a  fever." He coughs, saying, "I've had muscle
aches too so I guess some  asshole's transferred his cold or flu to me
somehow." I say, "Jeez, your  last game of the season is tomorrow. Can you play,
do you think?" He  mumbles, "Yeah, I'll play. This is nothing." I'm worried
about him and I'm  worried that his 'nothing' might be in me now. Not from
his spunk, but from us  exchanging spit. We lay together hugging for awhile
until Robby says, "That  sex with you was about the best I can ever imagine
having. It's so much  better with you, Dylan. Nothing else can compare." I
murmur, "That's what I  love to hear, Robby. And right back at you." He
nestles against me a  little bit more for a few seconds, then mumbles, "Lets take
a shower together.  Whaddaya say, babe?" I mumble, "Well, I say that's a
good idea, Rob," and  that's what we do, although it's a rather quick shower
with no sex. After  drying ourselves, Robby says, "I'm taking you out to
dinner tonight," but I'm  like, "Nope, I'm cooking dinner for you and Chubby
tonight. I need to  take care of my boyfriend when he's sick the way you took
care of me." Robby  says, "I'm fine, Dylan. Text your brother and I'll treat
him to  dinner  too." I look at Robby, then ask, "Are you really okay? I
mean  you're not so feverish you don't know what you're saying, right? Do  you
realize you just said you're to buy us dinner? I mean, really? " He  grins
at me, "I am not cheap? Why does everybody say that?" I go,  "Stereotyping,
Rob. You know, just because you're tight with a buck, right  away people call
you cheap. It's a cheap shot is what it is." He laughs, then  goes, "Oh
fuck, I've been found out." We kiss, then he's like, "Dylan, do what  I told
you, I'm in charge and I say I'm buying you two brothers dinner." I  say,
"Yes, boss," and he mumbles, "That's better, I'm in charge until you tell  me
I'm not," and he chuckles a little, giving me a smile.


After getting dressed, I text  Chubby and he text back that he and some
dudes are celebrating the next to  last Wednesday of sophomore year, so fuck a
whole bunch of dinners, but  thanks for the invitation, and we should join
him tying a load on.  That's paraphrasing his text, which was rather a
rambling one so I guess  his celebrating is moving along quite nicely. Maybe I
should be concerned  that Chubby's overdoing it. I'm not though because I have
ultimate faith that  he knows what he's doing and can take care of himself.
He can take care of  himself  with one hand tied behind his back actually.
Chubby's the last  person I need to worry about, although I do worry
sometimes. Robby buys him  and me a $82.00 dinner at Burton's, and that's without
alcoholic beverages  running up the bill, so we obviously ordered the most
expensive stuff on  the menu. We're both in good spirits all through the meal.
We stay away from  discussing us being separated this summer, instead
sticking  with reminiscing about our long love affair that we both know is as
strong as ever, and that's true no matter that each of us is spending the
summer with our side-sex lovers. As we walk out of Burtons with me thanking
Robby, he says, "We're both crazy you know. We've found each other and know we
have true love for each other, but we're continually doing everything we
can  think of to fuck up what's already perfect." I shrug, "We can't help
ourselves, Rob."


Robby and I sleep in  each other's arms as usual, but his head feels hotter
than normal. He  definitely has a fever, but when we wake-up it's Thursday
morning and that  means Robby's playing second base in the last game of the
season. He leaves  for the baseball complex the usual two hours before the
game, meaning ten  o'clock in the morning in this case. We kiss goodbye and I
promise to watch  him play. Ryan calls five minutes after Robby leaves,
saying, "I'll be over to  do your haircut in ten minutes. After that we'll
watch Rob's last game of  the year, and I guess after that you'll be going home
with Rob." I say,  "That's the plan, Ryan. Um, can I put in one last plea
for an alternative  haircut, please?" He goes, "No, I'll be there in ten
minutes. Have the  barbering stuff laid out. Do I need to give you a shampoo?" I
go, Yes, boss,  on both items you mentioned: I'll get the barbering things
out for you, and I  want that shampoo." He says, "Love you," and I go, "You
too,"



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



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


Hoping some readers may be  interested, there are books of mine published
and available on  Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for
next to nothing. The  books are under ten dollars. They are about a 19 year old
gay boy (Oliver) who  has a far different life than Dylan's. Please at
least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the
story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank  you.


Donny  Mumford



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

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