Date: Tue, 30 Jun 2015 11:14:36 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR  Chapter  78

DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR


Chapter  78


by  Donny Mumford





Willie and I overdid the alcoholic  beverages at dinner, and now I'm
depending on him to get us home safely. He's  behind the wheel of this hundred and
fifty thousand dollar Mercedes not  showing the confidence I was hoping to
see. He looks nervous and to make  matters worse it's a pitch black night
with storm clouds blocking the moon and  stars. Willie's squinting as he pulls
out of the parking lot onto route 9.  Route 9 is brightly lit, but when we
get off the highway Willie's now  negotiating narrow suburban roads that
have no street lights. He does okay  until we're almost home when he misses the
turn-off for his street and runs up  a curb and onto the sidewalk. I
mumble, "Awesome suspension on this car, huh?"  Willie snickers as he backs off
the sidewalk and makes the correct turn about  ten feet further down the road,
and then the skies open up with heavy rain  pouring down on us and now the
visibility reduces to pretty much guess work  and familiarity with the road.
Neither of us says anything as Willie drives  very slowly, straining to
see, and then we both yell, "There's the driveway!"  He turns onto the winding
driveway leading to his mansion-like house and when  we approach the
four-car garage motion detector lights come on brilliantly,  basically blinding us.
Willie mutters, "Balls," holding his hand up to block  the brightness, then
he activates the garage door opener and drives us out of  the rain, almost
taking the right rearview mirror off on my side of the car.  Looking at me
while turning off the engine, he mutters, "Fucking piece of  cake, huh?" I
go, "Awesome driving, Willie," and we do the stupid, slightly  drunk, giggling
thing again.


We get drenched running from the  garage to the house, and when inside we
leave two sets of wet footprints  walking through the kitchen, up the back
stairs, and then down the hall to his  bedroom. After pulling off our soaking
wet clothing we use clean towels to dry  each other and then Willie gives me
a new electric toothbrush, seriously  saying, "You can keep that if you
want." Opening the plastic wrapper to  extract my new toothbrush, I'm like,
"Yippee, an early Christmas present." We  go through the bedroom and right into
the bathroom because both of us badly  needs to take a piss. We do that
standing next to each other watching the piss  bubbles form in the toilet.
While washing our face and hands, Willie says, "I  hate driving when I'm drunk."
I say again, "You did good, Willie." He  chuckles, mumbling, "Yeah, except
some asshole moved the fucking street back  there, heh heh," and we're into
the drunken giggling again. After brushing our  teeth and climbing naked
onto his large bed, then scrambling under the covers,  Willie flicks the switch
next to the headboard killing the lights. A couple of  quick goodnight
kisses, then Willie gets his arms around me for a hug as we  rustle around
getting comfortable, and go to sleep without  fucking.


Much too soon it's Friday morning  and Willie's gently shaking my shoulder,
asking, "You awake, Dylan?" I roll  over opening my eyes, saying, "Yeah, I
am now, but my head's killing me." He  goes, "Mine too." He staggers out of
bed going over to the half-refrigerator  that's part of a long built-in
series of cabinets, bookshelves, desks,  drawers, and whatever. The built-in
goes along one entire wall. He says, "It's  only seven-twenty so we definitely
need more sleep, but first..." and he comes  back with a plastic bottle of
Advil and two twelve ounce bottles of orange  juice. After taking the Advil
and draining the bottles of OJ we need to take  another piss, then it's back
to bed cuddling together. The next thing I know  the clock on the nightstand
reads ten after eleven. Happily I'm feeling  better, although not great.
Willie's still sleeping so I lay here staring at  him. He seems to get more
handsome each year, but when he laughs or grins I  can still see the cute boy
I remember from the day I first met him when he  asked me if I wanted to
blow him. That makes me smile and stare at him some  more thinking about some
of the crazy times we've had together. A couple of minutes later Willie
opens one eye and grins at me, saying, "I felt you looking at me." I make a
'face' at him, "No you didn't," and he goes, "If I ask you  pretty please, will
you blow me?" That makes me laugh out loud because it's  basically what I
was thinking he said the first time we met. He goes, "What's  so funny?" and
I tell him. Willie laughs, denying he said  that, "I did not! Not the first
words our of my mouth anyway." I shrug, "Okay,  maybe they weren't the first
words," although I'm pretty  sure they were. I mumble, "It was a long time
ago so I may have gotten it a  little mixed-up." He sticks his jaw out and
breaths noisily, then says, "I  think I've got morning breath. Lets brush our
teeth and then make-out," and  that's what we do.


Back in bed Willie lays on me,  chest to chest, his legs on either side of
mine and his long cock against  my thigh. He holds my head between his hands
and kisses me very much like a  lovers kiss at first. It's nice but we gets
aroused and begin squirming  against one another, then get into a seriously
hot make-out with Willie's  tongue in my mouth. Our penises begin to firm
up as Willie slides his tongue  across my cheek and puts his lips on my ear,
murmuring, "Pretty please, suck  my dick, Dylan." I slide down his hot body
getting between his legs. I'm at  the end of the mattress with my legs
outside the covers and bent at the knees  with my feet in the air. Picking up his
long firm dick with my fingers I lick  the head like it's an ice cream cone...
 doing long licks. Willie throws the  covers off of us and puts his hands
on my shoulders squeezing them as his ass  squirms on the bed and I hear him
blowing air through his lips in short puffs.  As the sensations from his
hardening cock increase he humps his hips a few  times, moaning, "Ummm, oooh
fucccck." When his cock's hard I slide it into my  mouth sucking on the shaft
with my lips and tongue. He does two quiets grunts,  "Umth, umth," and I
slide the head past the gag reflex area and into my  throat. Little by little I
take his entire boner in my mouth and throat, my  nose finally embedded in
pubic hairs. Willie lifts his ass off the bed, "Oooh,  aaah, aah, Dylan,
ooh." I'm working my throat muscles on his hard cock until I  begin gagging,
then quickly pull my head back with his cock sliding out of my  throat just as
a blob of precum drools out onto my tongue. Willie's pushing on  my
shoulders, mumbling, "No, aaah, no more, oooh." I take his cock from my  mouth
stroking it and watching precum bubble out of his cock's pink pee slit.  The
precum bubble gets bigger and bigger, then slides down the hard  shaft.


Willie's voice is husky when he  says, "Sit on it, Dylan, okay?" I nod my
head getting up on my knees. Walking  up his body on my knees, a knee on
either side of him, until my ass is over  his crotch. We look into each other's
eyes with Willie's cock in his fist.  He's holding it straight up so I lower
my ass until the wet head of his boner  hits next to my asshole. Willie
adjusts and I lower my ass a bit, and, "Aaaa,  umm," the head pops in past my
sphincter. Willie moans, "Mmmmm, niceeee," and  takes his hand away. Lowering
my butt slowly I go down, down, down, half-inch  by half-inch. Halfway down
his pole I stop to take a couple of deep breaths  with Willie and me still
staring into each other's eyes. He grins looking like  that kid at Carl's
cookout years ago. I grin back and slowly continue my trip  down, down, down
with his cock going up, up, up my ass. My head and shoulders  do a little
shudder as sensations fire up off my anus and prostate causing  another
shoulder shudder. I make a 'face' at him and then sit down the rest of  the way, my
butt cheeks resting firmly on his thighs. Willie goes, "Ooooh,  that feels
good." He reaches out his arms and we hold hands as I lift up as  slowly as
I went down on his throbbing pole, then with only the head of his  cock
inside me I hesitate just a second and then go right down on his boner  again,
grimacing a little from a touch of pain. Almost immediately though my
rectum's gets the message and when I lift up it's all good without any hurt,
"Mmmm, nice boner, Willie, really nice!" He says, "Ride it, baby," and I get
into a nice rhythm sliding up and down on his hard cock feeling it expand a
little with Willie moaning and squirming on the bed.

We continue holding hands, both  hands, as I go for a ride on his hot boner
sucking my lips and concentrating  on the sensational activity happening in
my rectum. My boner bobs in front of  me as I lift up and drop down
steadily for three or four lusciously sexual  minutes. Then muscles at the top of
my thighs begin stiffening-up. I groan,  then say, "You're gonna have to take
over the fucking, Willie boy, my legs are  giving out." He says, "Okay, but
keep my cock in your ass if you can." I  slowly lower my knees to the
mattress, his cock going snugly all the way  up my ass and feeling so good I bite
my bottom lip again, murmuring, "Aaaah,  this feels so good, Willie." He
says, "Lean forward now." Willie's holding my  hands guiding me as I lower
myself towards him, then he lets go of my hands  and holds my shoulders
steadying me until my forehead's resting on his  shoulder A few inches of his boner
remains in my asshole. Willie brings his  feet up, his knees in the air on
either side of me. He hugs my head and starts  humping his hips driving his
boner up my ass right on my prostate gland. "Oh  fuck, Willie, yes... do it
faster, aaah, mmm." Awesome sexual sensations explode  in my rectum as my
orgasm's building quickly.

Hump, hump, hump,hump... Willies  hips thrust back and forth with me limply
bumping forward with each thrust of  his hips. Constant moans and grunts of
sexual pleasure from both of us now  with me hugging his shoulders. He
pounds his boner up my ass, "Slap, slap,  slap." Each hump jarring me forward as
sensations build and build until my  moans sound desperate and I'm hugging
around his neck now, my face tight  against the side of his neck, next to
his jaw. My lips are pressed against his  neck, my ear near his cheek so I
hear every quiet grunt from Willie as he  hump, hump, humps his boner in my
ass. The sensations are so sexy and Willie  smells so good and my boner's
feeling awesome as it's sliding a little between  our stomachs drooling precum
with each thrust of his hard cock inside my ass.  Incredible sensations coming
from my ass as well as from the head of my  boned-up cock that sliding
continually on his stomach just below Willie's  breast bone. All these sexy
sensations I'd happily experience for quite a  while longer except my climax is
totally on me now. I gasp as my body gets  stiff, then a muffled squeal with
my mouth against the side of Willie's neck  as my hips do an involuntary
hump forward with cum streaming from my cock  creamily wetting between our
chests, then another hump from me and more cum  streaks out. Willie rolls me
over so I'm almost in a ball with my knees on the  bed and me leaning over
them so my head's almost touching the mattress.  Willie's behind and above me,
his cock still up my ass. He takes a few ragged  breaths then rabbit fucks
my ass incredibly fast with him grunting and making  whining sounds of
arousal. Less than a minute later he lays against my  buttocks flopping against me
making gasping sounds with cum flooding my  insides. He's a little out of
control for a few seconds, than he just lays  against me, his chest against
my back, his face on the back of my head. He's  groaning and breathing hard
and fast before slowly sliding sideways off my  ass, pulling his cock out as
he falls. He lays panting next to me as I stretch  out now and flop over on
my back. Heavy breathing from both of us as we turn  our heads towards each
other grinning. With a gasping breath, I tell him, "You  are one awesome
'top', Willie, and ya got yourself a damn nice penis too." He  laughs, "Hey,
this ain't my first rodeo ya know. Your ass and my cock fit like  a glove." He
rolls up on his side and leans down for a tongue involved kiss,  then he
licks across my lips, mumbling, "Yum." Wow, it feels really good being
excellently fucked.


After licking my lips Willie lays  back down next to me and we both sigh at
the same time making us laugh. He  says, "Shower time, huh?" and we roll
off the bed and take a shower together  rubbing gel on one another using our
bare hands. Willie can't come up with  another boner though, so we give up on
the idea of follow-up sex. My ass is a  little sore anyway so I'm not
really all that disappointed. He complains, "My  dick's kinda sore, Dylan." I
mumble, "Yeah, I imagine it is. Hell, our missing  boners might have something
to do with us being past our prime-fucking-years,  Willie, or maybe it has
something to do with the fact we've fucked three or  four times in the last
eighteen hours." He mutters, "Past our prime, my ass."  After our shower
Willie gives me more of his clean clothes to wear,  sans the girlie panties this
morning. Boxer shorts, socks, then another  pair of his designer khaki's
and a hoodie sweat shirt over another silk  t-shirt. My sneakers are still a
little damp from last night, but Willie's  shoes are a couple of sizes too
big so I wear my damp ones. As we're drinking  coffee in the kitchen, I notice
Willie's wearing jeans, and sarcastically ask,  "Do they let you shop in
Louis wearing jeans?" He laughs, "They'd let me shop  there wearing a bathing
suits or a jockstrap if I felt like it. They're not  gonna lose all the
money dad and I spend there. You do know this current Louis  is a department
store, right? It's not the Louis store in the past that  featured only men's
clothing." Actually I didn't know that, or care. What I  like is the way
Willie talks about 'my dad' this and 'my dad' that. Willie's  finally reconciled
with his parents. He told me awhile ago they were all  getting along more
like a family instead of three separate individuals who  just happened to be
related. Their relationship began improving after Willie's  and my Key West
trip when their relationship hit rock bottom, and they rebuilt  it from
scratch, leaving the bad times in the past forgotten  forever.


We're outside his house walking  towards the garage and the odd-looking
Mercedes, with me asking, "How come  they pronounce 'Louis' as 'Louie's?" He
shrugs, "Because they can, I guess."  Willie drives down busy route 93 south,
and then across the Zakim Bridge into  Boston. It's always a challenge for
me driving in Boston, but Willie  knows his way around and he's able to match
the other driver's aggressiveness.  In Boston it's dog eat dog traffic. He
also knows convenient places to park  for only $24 an hour...that's nuts! This
version of Louis on Newbury street  is a three-floor upscale department
store with ludicrously expensive prices.  Steps lead up to the front entrance
and when inside I'm surprised to see all  kinds of home goods on the first
floor. Willie buys a few items telling me  Louis is the only store he knows,
other than stores in Paris, where he can buy  soaps and lotions from
Diptxque, which means absolutely nothing to me. He  adds, "And look, Dylan, coffee
from Fauchon," as he holds up a box. Shrugging  I nod my head, then frown at
a sign advertising, 'Wonderfully soft  Sherpa blankets'.  Whatever a Sherpa
blanket is, the ones here go for $5500 each. Huh. There  are a number of CD
listening booths around, which isn't  pretentious... not at all. I watch a
snooty-acting male sales clerk staring at  two ladies in their twenties who are
making faces at some of the prices, much  like I'm doing. The snooty
salesman approaches them, and asks, "What are YOU  two looking for?" It's like
these ladies shouldn't be looking for  anything in this department  store
because they can't afford anything here. I can't believe how rude he  was.
Neither of the women have anything to say to that, instead they're acting  like
they've been properly scolded and they scurry out of the store. That  really
blows!


When Willie's done buying stuff he  doesn't need, he give the sales clerk
his credit card telling her to Fed Ex  everything to his house, then we take
the stairs to the second floor. There's  an escalator but by taking the
stairs we get to gawk at more of the gaudy  decor. As far as I can tell Louis is
one part high-end department store and  two parts sartorial museum. They
can't be serious with some of these displays.  Men's and women's clothing are
on the second floor and the first counter we  come to I lift a tag on a
woman's purse, and read: 'Alpaca trimmed purse.  Price, $3000'. I didn't look at
the rest of the purses thinking I probably  won't do much Christmas
shopping here. We walk through the women's section to  get to men's clothing. There
are consistently questionable ladies' fashions on  display every step I
take. Maybe they're intentionally outlandish to prove how  different Louis is.
I honestly can't imagine where a woman would wear some of  these fashions.
In the men's department I hear a young man say to the girl  he's with, "How
about the snobbery and attitude of these sales people? Fuck  them!" She says,
"Yeah, if you're not wearing Givenchy the sale staff stick  their noses up.
Lets get out of here, Ted." Ted was kinda cute, and I wouldn't  mind
getting out of here myself.


We're not in the men's  department for ten seconds before two youngish
salesmen rush over making a  fuss over Willie, and yes, they call him 'William',
then a third guy goes,  "Mr. Worthington, how are you this morning?" He
smiles  insincerely adding, "I should have said, this afternoon." Willie shrugs
 and waves his hand dismissively at him and the salesman does something
with  his shoulders while lifting his head and then stalks away. I watch him go
 wondering, what the fuck? While the two salesmen that got to Willie first
fawn  all over him, I watch another salesman glaring at a sloppily dressed
middle  aged man. I interpret the 'glare' as inferring, 'You sir are poor and
fat and your  fashion sense is disturbing!'  I could be wrong about that,
but other than the glare the salesman is blatantly ignoring the guy who's
obviously looking around for someone to help him. I get introduced to the
salesmen as a dear friend of William's, and then we all spend a half hour
examining various suits and other clothing items that Willie doesn't need, but
is contemplating buying anyway because he likes to shop. The original two
salesmen, both in their early thirties are dressed in the latest Louis
hideous  men's fashions,. They both scurry around bringing the various clothes
for us  to examine. Neither of the salesmen refer to me by name even once, but
happily  they manage not to sneer at me. After rejecting some ridiculous
looking suits  that resemble costumes more than suits, I settle on a
conventional two-button  summer weight gray wool suit for $3300. It's the cheapest
suit we looked at.  Willie chooses a tie and two shirts to go with the suit,
plus a $285  belt. I didn't notice what the tie and shirts cost, but it's all
slightly  absurd and a little sick. I know from experience that trying to
talk Willie  out of buying me this stuff would embarrass him, so I don't
bother trying. He  has an image to maintain I suppose.


The snootier of the two salesmen  carries my new suit, saying to me, "This
way, if you please." I'm rolling my  eyes following him into a dressing room
where he hangs the suit up, telling  me, "Wonderful choice, sir. The tailor
will be in momentarily." I assumed he  would be, and just for shits and
giggles I put on an aloof, bored demeanor,  like... how very tiresome this is.
The guy does a huffy lift of his head and  leaves. I stare after him for a
second, then get undressed and put the suit  on. I gotta admit it is a
beautifully made suit and it feels like I'm hardly  wearing anything. The tailor
makes a dramatic entrance pushing the curtains  open unnecessarily wide, then
with a flourish he closes them. He looks  disapprovingly at my suit, like
I've got to be kidding. He's a small wrinkled  man of a much older generation
with a phony Italian accent, who's trying to  out-aloof me and doing a damn
good job of it. It's like his job as tailor is  so beneath him it's
ridiculous. He barks out gruff commands at me, like...  'stand up straight' or 'turn
around' 'turn to your right, your other right!'  and things like that. I
have nothing to say to him other than a few  exasperated sighs to show him how
annoying this is. When he's measuring for my  pant legs the back of his
wrinkled knuckles are against my balls. Little chalk  marks here and there and
he's gone, taking the offending suit with him. Huh!  After getting dressed
again I join Willie who's mercifully finished buying  stuff he doesn't need.
I'm told the suit will be tailored and Fed Ex'd to my  condo within three
business days, or I can pick it up if I like. I take an  exasperated breath,
sounding phony when I say, "Fed Ex, of course," making  Willie laugh. I can't
help grinning which ruins my aloof act. Needless to say  the two salesmen
couldn't give a shit less about my act, aloof or  otherwise


I have no idea what Willie's final total for our purchases  was, and
frankly I don't care. Whatever the total it was simply applied to his  account
without Willie even signing for it. He's obviously better known in the  men's
wear department than home goods where he needed to show his card. He takes me
to  the third floor now where there's a unisex hair salon. Willie tells me
he got  his current haircut there, and in a separate area on the third floor
there's a  cafe/bar where we have lunch. Willie's ecstatic about the things
he bought  today, all of which will be Fed Ex'd to his house because he's
certainly not  going to carry that stuff around with him. I'm exhausted by
now and still a  little hungover, so I'm not ecstatic. Actually I'm a little
sick of the  ridiculously rich, to be honest about it. Louis exists as a
outlet of  indulgence for those showing off their affluence. Looking at Willie
I'm  wondering what it's like being him. There's no way to know of course,
but I'm  quite sure I'd rather be me. I'd have been happier buying a $150 suit
at  Kohl's and be done with it in ten minutes. While waiting for our lunch
Willie  and I do what all people our age do: we read and send texts on our
smart  phones, occasionally sharing something outrageous or funny one of our
friends  texted to us. I text Ryan and Robby and return a text to Sonny and
Connor.  Sonny's text was from last night indicating he wants a haircut,
which he texts  me about every week. I tell him to text me after he gets out of
school today,  which is when he'll probably read this text of mine. I kinda
miss that  orange-haired lad so I hope he can come over before I go back to
Merrimack.  Our lunch arrives and my lobster roll is very good, although
I'm not sure it's  good enough to justify the $32 it costs.


After lunch Willie's very  apologetic about needing to drop me off at my
house. The reason being he  promised to spend the weekend with his father and
mother, who happen to be in  New York City. Willie has finals week coming up
like me, but he's not the  least bit concerned about them. He tells me he
has a GPA of 3.6 which I  believe. Whatever the reason he's dropping me off,
it's awesome news to me  because Willie's lifestyle gets tiresome after
awhile, especially if you're  not used to it like me. While he's driving me to
my place I thank him again  for everything and we make vague plans to see
each other sometime soon. I've  no idea how that's going to be possible
considering my trip to Georgia, but  there's no sense going over that again. I told
Willie about my plans for  the summer at dinner last night and he more or
less shrugged it off as no big  deal. He's mostly concerned about the moment
he's in, and about himself of  course. Our lives are so different it's
amazing we've been friends and lovers  for so long. The past twenty-four hours
with Willie seems in some ways like a  week because he packs so much into each
 minute. I've enjoyed myself though, and I tell him so making him smile,
"Thanks, Dylan. I loved every minute being with you." He's definitely changed
 for the better and I need to take my hat off to this latest version of
Willie  Worthington, it's not perfect but I'm far from perfect myself. I think
it's  the best version of Willie so far. Way back when we first met I
initially was  attracted to him because he was so uniquely cute and different, and
because of  his dominant demeanor. For now though, the kind of dominant
behavior he  displayed back then interests me less and less the older I get. It
was fun  back in the day, but that's the past and this is a new morning.


We do a quick kiss goodbye with  Willie saying, "It's been beyond awesome
spending time with you, Dylan. Great  seeing you again," and that's about it.
Almost relaxing. No nagging or trying  to impose his will on me. None of
the nagging, 'Come to New York with me' that  would have occurred a year ago.
Just an ordinary goodbye between gay friends.  He honks the horn of that
strange Mercedes and off he goes. Walking up the  stairs to my condo I smile at
the ridiculous thought of my new $3300 suit  being worn to a little church
in Georgia. I'm pretty sure the suit's going to  be humiliated being there.
My suit is expecting New York or Paris, like it  deserves... ha ha, tough
shit, suit. Then I get a text as I'm unlocking the  front door. Looking at my
cellphone I notice it's quarter to three already, so  mom should still be
home. The text is from Sonny. When I get inside I text him  right back, 'Bring
your orange head of hair and come over whenever you  want.'  I hear rustling
around in mom's bathroom so I take the  opportunity to brush my teeth
getting rid of the fishy taste of lobster. As I  walk down the hall to the living
room  mom comes out of  her bedroom  excitedly saying, "You're home! I
didn't expect you until Saturday,  sweetheart." Big hug and, "What a wonderful
surprise." We hug again and I get  a number of kisses, then Mom holds he at
arm's length, saying, "Oh Dylan!  Darling your haircut's too short. You have
the most beautiful hair. It's just  like your grandfather's when he was your
age. I showed you that picture of  him, didn't I?" I go, "Well, yes, but
it's a black and white picture." Then I  tell her the haircut's a big mistake
and that's the last we talk about it.  We're sitting at the kitchen bar
having a soda and talking as I realize my ass  is sore and sitting on this hard
stool isn't helping the matter. Mom and I  talk for twenty minutes but then
she needs to run. Mom and Tris have hair  appointments. She explained she's
dressed for work because they'll be going  directly to work after getting
their hair done. We make plans to have lunch  together tomorrow and she insists
I have dinner at the restaurant Saturday  night. Robby and I have a date
planned, but it can include dinner, so no  problem.

As I'm getting my sore ass off the  stool to walk mom to the door, I'm
thinking it's a damn good thing Willie's  dick isn't as fat as Ryan's or I'd be
hurting for certain instead of this  minor soreness. Mom leaves and I plop
down on the soft sofa smiling at my  mom's enthusiasm. She's the best mom
ever. Laying back on the sofa I read  Ryan's latest text that claims he's so
bored he's actually studying for  finals. I start to text him that I'm stuck
here without a car, but don't  because he might interpret that as an
invitation to join me here and for some  reason, mostly having to do with Robby and
my mom, that would make for an  awkward situation. I text him that I feel
bad he's so bored, but it's great  he's studying." He asks what I've been
doing and I tell him I've been seeing  my mom and some friends, people I won't
get to see again until I'm back from  my Georgia summer with him. That sounds
about right and he texts back,  'Have fun. Lova ya!'

For a second I try remembering what  I'm waiting for, then remember Sonny's
haircut. Okay, I'm looking forward to  doing that and I don't need to wait
long because I can hear his motorbike's  muffler from way down at the curb.
That bike needs a new muffler. Getting up I  look out the front window
watching Sonny skipping up the steps full of  youthful energy. My hangover is
mostly gone, but I'm still a little tired from  keeping up with Willie. Opening
the door before Sonny rings the bell, I look  at him standing there. He's
giving me his confident smirking grin and running  his fingers through his
wild head of orange hair. His hair only approaches the  color 'red' when it's
quite short. Guess the roots have most of the  pigmentation. With his blue
eyes shining, he asks, "What the fuck kind of  haircut did you get? Did you
join the marines, Dylan?" I go, "Oh my God,  Sonny, what a clever remark! The
marines, huh? I'd never have made that  connection." He barges his way
inside giving me a one arm hug and a kiss on  his way by, saying, "Everybody who
sees you probably asks the same thing." He  takes my hand pulling me
towards the balcony, saying, "I've been dying for a  cigarette all fucking day." I
grab his arm stopping him, asking, "How fucking  tall are you now?" He
goes, "I had a late growth spurt, I'm a little over five  feet, eight inches. I
grew some, huh?" I'm like, "I guess, yeah you're getting  there." He goes,
"That's probably it though, don'cha think? I won't grow  anymore. My brother,
Devon's, only like a half inch taller than me." I shrug,  "Ya never know,"
but it startled me how tall he is.


On the balcony Sonny puts his hand  right inside my khaki pocket pulling
out my box of Marlboro lights. Actually  these are Willie's khakis, but now I
guess they're mine. Looking at me with  that familiar little cute smirk,
Sonny takes a cigarette and plops it between  his lips, asking, "Ya want one?"
holding the open box at me grinning his  devilishly cute grin. I take one
mumbling, "You're looking cute as ever,  Sonny, um, except for that mop of
hair." He says, "Well, you never tell me  when you're home and I'm certainly
not paying for a haircut when I've got my  own free barber." I chuckle, "Yeah,
I don't blame you. What kind of haircut do  you want?" He says, "We'll we
can eliminate the haircut you have for  starters." I'm like, "No shit," and
he goes, "Yeah, I want a haircut like Brad  Mills has." Exhaling a long cloud
of smoke towards Sonny, I'm like, "Do I need  to guess what that is?" He
say, "Nah, I'll tell ya, but I've got this wicked  crush on Brad. He's in my
Lit class." We finish our cigarettes with Sonny  gushing over this kid in his
class at school. Then inside, I nod my head  toward the hall and we start
walking to my bedroom and continue on through it  into the bathroom for his
shampoo. On they way, I'm like, "You still haven't  told me what kind of a
haircut this guy Brad has." He says, "It's like a faux  Mohawk, but not a
short one." I'm dragging the desk chair into the bathroom,  asking, "Is it
possible for you to be a little bit more specific?" He takes  his shirt off and
his scent wafts up at me. Nice!  His skin is almost  pink and so firm-looking
it's like new. He's almost skinny but I'll give him  the benefit of the
doubt and say he's slim even though I can see a couple of  his ribs.


Sonny sits on the chair holding his  index and thumb about an inch apart,
saying, "This long on either side of the  Mohawks center, and the sides
shorter than that. You know how to do it,  Dylan." I nod my head, "Yeah, indeed I
do, but that's a goofy haircut, Sonny.  You're too cute to have an orange
faux hawk. And anyway, that'd be kind of  obvious to Brad, wouldn't it?" As
he frowns thinking about that, I ask an  obvious question, "Is this Brad
person gay?" Sonny shrugs, "Probably not.  Okay, no faux hawk, you're right,
it'd be awkwardly obvious copying Brad's  haircut. So, what should I get?" Ah
yes, that question again. I'm moving my  fingers through about five inches of
hair on top of his head, it's like silk,  but dense. I ask, "Why's your
hair sticking up like this?" He goes, "The wind  did it while I was riding over
here." Shaking my head, "You're still not  wearing a helmet? Don't ya ever
get a ticket from the cops?" He goes, "Nah,  I've got my helmet with me and
when I get stopped I act really sincere telling  the cop I just took the
helmet off. An insect flew under it and was  distracting me." Doubting his BS
story, I'm blowing out a lot of air puffing  out my cheeks as I start wetting
Sonny's hair. When wet it almost looks  red. "What kind of  haircut,
Sonny?" He goes, "Okay, let me  think."


There's certainly lots of sudsy  hair to run my fingers through on Sonny's
head. When his hair's clean I  massage his scalp with my finger tips and he
hunches his shoulders, "That  feels good, Dylan." I do it for another thirty
seconds and then begin rinsing  out the shampoo. Sonny goes, "I know what
haircut I want, Dylan. It's the  first haircut you gave me." I ask, "Was that
a buzz cut?" and he says, "Yep,  the buzz cut. My motorbike bud, Popcorn,
has a buzz cut and he's been ragging  on me to get one, so I will." I say,
"Sure, Sonny, any haircut you want,  buddy." He's like, "Well, to be clear,
I'm not choosing a buzz cut because it  was my first haircut from you,
although that did occur to me. There's a bigger  reason I decided on the buzz cut.
Popcorn not only has been bugging' me to get  one, we've, um, also been
messin' around with each other too, so this will be  like a gift from me to him.
Obviously don't you fuckin' tell anybody Popcorn  and I are screwing. I can
confide in you about stuff like this. Stuff that my  brother, Devon, would
give me a lot of shit about if I mentioned it  to him." I go, "Oh, so ya got
a fuck buddy now, huh?" He shrugs, "Without  going into details, I guess I
could say that's affirmative. And, by the way,  you don't need to be jealous
about him because you're still one of my  boyfriends. I've told him all
about you, but not your name. He thinks I'm  bullshitting him of course. He
can't believe I'm banging a sophomore in  college." I'm roughly drying his hair
with a towel, mumbling, "Banging, Sonny?  That's a little archaic isn't it.
Anyway, you're not 'banging' me today,"  and he turns around in the chair
looking at me, asking, "Why not? We always do  it." I go back to drying his
hair chuckling because we've done it three  or four times and he calls that
'always'.


As I'm plugging in the hairdryer,  he asks again, "Why not, Dylan?" I
utilize another little white lie, saying,  "Back at college I took a fall on my
ass, pulling a muscle or something and  it's wicked sore. It even hurts to
walk." He nods his head, muttering, "Sorry  to hear that, um, did you hurt
your pecker too?" Holding the hairdryer, but  not turning it on, I'm like, "You
want me to fuck you, is that what you're  saying?" He shrugs, "Well, we
gotta do some sex together because we're  boyfriends." I go, "We're not
boyfriends, Sonny,"and he goes, "We sorta are."  I tell him, "At most we're
occasional fuck buddies," and then I turn  the hair dyer on eliminating further
discussion for the moment. I  actually really would like to give his cute butt
a fuck. I don't 'top' often  enough so I'm not passing up this opportunity.
I know Robby would be okay  being a 'bottom' for me except I like when he
fucks me too much to switch.  With Ryan, forget about it... he's the 'top'
period, I get that. While drying  and brushing through Sonny's shiny orange hair
I'm looking at his profile,  especially liking his youthful creamy
complexion. It's amazing someone  who looks as young as Sonny can be eighteen. He's
got a youthful baby face,  but in his head he's eighteen going on
twenty-five. He's a confident little  fucker and I like his dominant fucks too, but my
ass is sore so his idea is  better, for today anyway.


Turning off the hairdryer, I ask,  "This kid, Popcorn, does he have a real
name?" Sonny stands up, "Yeah, of  course, it's Cornelius Lemmon." I squeeze
his thin shoulder, laughing,  "Cornelius, huh? No wonder he has a
nickname." We're walking down the hall  with Sonny telling me, "He goes by his middle
name, George, in school, but  when I found out his real name I started
calling him Popcorn and it stuck. Ya  know, 'corn-elius'. So it's Popcorn or
sometimes just Corn." We continue down  to the basement where I left my barber
toiletry kit when I got here yesterday.  I was hoping I get a chance to give
a couple of haircuts. Casual like, I ask,  "Does Devon need a haircut?"
I've always had a little thing for Devon. Sonny  shakes his head, "Nah, he's
been going to that new barbershop in Natick." I  can't blame him because I'm
totally unreliable. I don't even know when  I'm gonna be back here in
Framingham, so how could he. To make conversation, I  ask, "Do you see the ex-posse
boys very much?" He shrugs, "Yeah, now and then,  but mostly I'm pretty
tight with my own homies. There's four of us with  motorbikes and we pretty
much hook up with each other." Hmmm, I wonder exactly  what he means by 'hook
up with each other'? As I'm attaching the half inch  guide to the Oster
clippers, I ask, "Do all the motorbike boys, um, mess  around like you and
Popcorn?" He goes, "Not like Popcorn and me, no. Not that  I know of anyway." I'm
curious, "Who's the 'top', you or him?" and Sonny goes,  "That's kind of a
personal question." I mumble, "Oh, so I'll take that as  meaning Popcorn
tops," he goes, "Yeah, so what if he does? He won't let me  fuck him, but he
fucks me pretty good and I like it too." Ah ha, that's why he  didn't do his
usual dominant act insisting he fucks me. So, he likes taking it  up his butt
now. A lad after my own heart in that regard.


The clippers click on and  there no talking for the five or six minutes I'm
running the clippers  through the hair on Sonny's head. It gives me a minor
boner cutting off  all that long hair and watching it fall off Sonny's head
leaving a half inch  stubble. Long batches of orange hair falling away as
the clippers move on his  head. The cut hairs hit his shoulder and scattering
half on the floor, with  the rest falling to his lap. He casually picks up
a handful from his lap,  asking, "Does it look red now, Dylan?" Meaning his
half inch buzzed hair. I  say, "Sort of," as I'm thinking that Sonny's like
most guys in that he doesn't  have an ounce of haircut fetish in him. It's
like, it's a haircut, what's the  big deal? It wasn't ever like that with me
though. Even before I developed a  full blown haircut fetish like Dodgers,
whenever I got or gave a haircut it  was always kind of a hot special
experience. That goes back years and years  when it was just Chubby and me giving
each other buzz cuts. Haircutting never  meant anything to Chubby either, but
it did to me. Hell, Chubby didn't even  mind that other guys took over my
haircuts. Willie first, although he didn't  cut it himself, then Robby and
sometimes Sonny, and now Ryan exclusively, for  this summer at least.

When I'm done with his haircut,  Sonny and I both rub our hands over his
buzzed head, with him saying, "Damn,  that feels good. When Popcorn's blowing
me I rub his head and it got me  thinking about a buzz cut for myself, but
then I got the crush on Brad and he  has the faux hawk, so ya know." I go,
"You made the right decision."  Sonny looks around, asking, "We gonna do it
here or your bedroom?" I say,  "Here's good, Sonny, but just a fast, hot buddy
fuck, okay?" I'm staring at  Sonny's new buzz cut and then at all his cut
hairs on the floor and it revives  my haircut fetish creating a buzzing
around my dick again. Yeah, it seems like  a hot idea to fuck Sonny here with me
doubly stimulated from fucking him and  the recent haircut. Then I think
about how Sonny is so blasé about this  fuck and assume that means he's
routinely getting fucked. Good for him. He  hands me a condom, mumbling, "I don't
want your sticky glop up my ass." I ask,  "Oh, but your sticky glop was fine
going up my ass?" He grins, muttering,  "Yeah, I've got special sticky glop
and anyway Popcorn made me promise to  always use condoms." I ask, "And you
always do what Popsicle says,  huh?" He laughs, "Not Popsicle, Popcorn! And
yeah I do pretty much what  he says, why?" I shrug, mumbling, "No reason,"
but I don't like the thought of  my little fuck buddy here getting in over
his head with some dominant guy  taking advantage of him. He  drops his jeans
to his knees, then pulls down his jockey shorts. Sonny has a  nice cock and
balls and of course they're surround by  bright orange pubic hair. He
strokes his cock with his fist, saying,  "Since you're doing the fucking you'll
need to suck my cock first to  even things out." I'm looking at the condom
packet, then say, "What? Hey, not  so fast. How about we make-out a little
first." He's  hesitant, "Um, ah, no offense, but Popcorn says guys don't
make-out unless  they're fags." I mumble, "Popcorn's fucked-up, Sonny." He shrugs,
"Yeah, I  kinda liked making-out with you, but how about doing it Popcorn's
way,  I mean, my way this time." I frown at him wondering where  all Sonny's
hot dominant spirit went, not that it's any of my business if he's
submissive to this Popcorn asshole. And, what the fuck, I like sucking  cute guy's
dicks anyway, plus I get a boner while doing it, so why  not....


I get on my knees and Sonny  feeds his cock into my mouth inch by inch
until the head hits the  back of my throat and I shake my head leaning back a
little. The scent coming  off his slightly damp cock and balls is sexy hot and
screams 'teenage boy'.  When a teen has a good individual personal scent
like Sonny, and not everyone  does, there's something youthfully special about
it. And like I said, he's got  a very nice looking cock about the size of
mine, or maybe a tad bigger. I lick  and suck his cock while holding his
heavy sack of nuts in my hand giving  gentle squeezes every few seconds. He's
quickly grunting as his cock bones-up  hard, fairly fast too. Mine does too.
Using my thumb and forefinger I stroke  his boner until precum drools out
onto my tongue and he stammers,  "Oh, um, that's good, yeah okay, whoa," as he
backs away. Tasty precum and  I wouldn't have minded sucking his cock a
while longer, but I stand up  stroking my boner and putting the end of the
condom packet between my teeth,  then ripping it open and getting lube on my
bottom lip. Sonny bends over  with his hands on his knees and looks back at me,
saying, "Don't be shy,  Dylan. Really pound that boner of yours up my ass
hard, that's the way Popcorn  does it. That feels soooo good, but I don't need
to tell you that." He  automatically bent over like that so I guess that's
the way he and Cornelius  do it all the time. Rolling the condom on my
pecker, I ask, "How old's  this Popsicle kid anyway?" He frowns, "He's my age,
whaddaya think? I'm  not getting fucked by some old deviant down Watertown
Street." I  mumble, "I was hoping you weren't," and he says, "I already got one
big  brother, Dylan, and I love him, but one big brother is enough." I
smack his  ass, "SMACK!" and he yells, "No! No spanking." I'm like, "Ha! As I
recall you smacked the shit out of my butt a few times." He chuckles,  "Yeah,
I live by a double standard though." Sonny has the classic bubble butt  of
two sweet pink mounds of firm muscled flesh that I can't  resist squeezing.
It's ruined a little when I spread his butt cheeks and  see the orange hair
around his asshole. Not many hairs, but pink and orange  colors just don't
go together very well.

As soon as my boner head hit his  anus I let go of his butt cheeks and they
hug my cock nicely, plus I no longer  see the offending orange hairs. The
head of my boner barely pokes his anus  when it slips right in past his
sphincter helped greatly by the lubricant on  the condom. "Oh yeaaah, Dylan, that
feels good." Sonny pushes his ass up a  little more, then back and another
inch of my cock disappears up his ass. I  lean in and two more inches slides
tightly up his ass, and it's, "Oooooh,  yeaaah," from Sonny. He obviously
has that special kind of rectum that accepts  a hard cock without causing any
pain. He's the perfect 'bottom' boy and that  Popcorn person's one lucky
guy. Sonny's rectum hugs my boner nice and tight as  I push the rest of my
boner up his ass and watch his back arch, as he  moans, "Mmmmm, oooh, yeah."
I'll be dammed, this rocks! Reaching over I grab  hold of his hips and move my
hips back pulling my boner out until just the  head's hidden inside his
ass. Man, I'd love to spank his pretty ass a few  times, but I settle for
driving my boner back up inside him until our bodies  collide. He looks back, his
eyes shining, as he says, "Fast and hard, okay,  Dylan?" I shrug, mumbling,
"You got it, dude," then it's, "Slap, slap, slap,  slap," and a minute
later I'm already feeling my orgasm build. With my grip on  his hips I'm pulling
Sonny back as I'm driving my cock up his ass. His body  is loosely jerking
around with each thrust up his ass. His bobbing  buzz-cut head reminding me
of the haircut I just gave him so I'm doubly  aroused: there's my haircut
fetish and the brilliant sensations coming off my  cock. Add to that the,
"Slap,slap,slap,slap," sounds of steady male fucking  and I'm in for an early
climax. Three or four minutes of steady fucking with  Sonny moaning constantly
and now I'm about to blow my load. Sonny's been  murmuring, "Yea, yea, yea,
yea," with each thrust up his ass. He starts  stroking his cock now so I
fuck him harder and faster, "SLAPSLAPSLAPSLAP,"  until my body gets stiff and
my climax is past the tipping point. I lean  against his buttocks humping
against him grunting and biting my bottom lip, my  face scrunched up trying
not to squeal, but I do one anyway. It's a  squeaky squeal with sensations
around my groin and inside my thighs  feeling almost like pain as cum pours
into the condom. It's not pain  though, it's intense sexual sensations then
another orgasm as my body shakes  and I feel dizzy from the concentrated
sensations all around my belly and  groin. I'm not used to 'topping' and having
the sexual sensations concentrated  in a small area like that and it was BAMB!
and, wow, what a hot  climax!

Still feeling slightly dizzy I'm  puffing short bursts of air trying to do
it quietly while forcing myself to  keep humping my boner in his ass even
though it's very sensitive after that  big climax. Praying Sonny cum's soon,
but until he does I gotta do my  part, so it's, "SLAPSLAPSLAP," all over
again and a minute later Sonny shakes,  then while gasping he arches his back
and with a funny, "Aaaaah, umpt,"  his hips thrust and I see his stream of cum
land four feet away. A long streak  of white, but he's still thrashing
around and I suppose more cum's flying out  of his cock. I couldn't see his
shorter shots of cum because I'm blocked by  his body. Still bent over, Sonny
takes deep breaths and I  grin watching his shoulders shudder the way mine do.
Too bad he's  not naked, that'd be even hotter. Damn that was kinda sweet
as well as uber  hot!. Stepping back I pull my cock from his ass making my
shoulders and head  do another little shudder. Sonny stands up with his hands
on his hips bending  backwards like he's stretching. Wondering about that, I
take the cum-filled  condom to the half bath to flush it, Sonny says,
"Fuck, that felt good!" After  cleaning my dick with a Handiwipe, I get a couple
of wet paper towels to drop  on the floor where Sonny shot his load. I'm
moving the paper towels around  with my foot as Sonny's still stroking his
cock, asking, "Wouldn't it  be awesome if we could stoke boners on ourselves
like for five fucks in a  row, one right after the other?" Horny little
bastard. I laugh and shake my  head as his cellphone beeps. He reads the text, then
his thumbs move on his  cellphone way faster than I can text. I don't use
my thumbs when texting  anyway.


As I'm tossing the dirty paper  towels away, Sonny asks, "Would you take a
ride with me, Dylan?" Like  Willie, Sonny's changed. He's not acting like
the hot-shit, wise-ass I  remember. I ask, "Take a ride where?" and he goes,
"To Popcorn's house.  He just texted me and I want to show you off. You know,
and prove I've got a  college sophomore as a fuck buddy." Hmmm, I'm
definitely interested in this  Popcorn asshole. Guess I'm feeling a little
protective of Sonny. But not  wanting to be obvious, I go, "Why would I want to do
that, Sonny?"  He shrugs, "As a favor to me. I think you're the coolest guy
ever and I  want to showoff to Corn that you're my friend and fuck buddy. I
won't  tell him your right name or anything." Rubbing my fingers over his
buzz cut  hair, I mumble, "Yeah, sure, but I can't stay long." He grins,
"Thanks, he's  gonna shit when he sees you." Walking down the steps in front of
the  condo, Sonny asks, "You wanna wear the helmet?" and I'm like, "Nope, I'm
not  the one who'll get a ticket if we're stopped by a cop." He rubs his
hand  on his head, saying, "Well, no way am I covering up my new buzz cut with
a  helmet. The wind can't do a thing to my hair now." After he unlocks his
motorbike and gets on, he looks at me, "Hop on behind me and hold me around
my  waist. I wouldn't want you falling off when I make my sharp turns." I'm
happy  to do as he says, it's sexy hugging him around his tight small waist
with my  face against the side of his neck enjoying his scent.  Feeling
self-conscious I chuckle, then ask, "Do we look like a couple of  queers
cuddling on a motorbike?" Sonny says, "Yeah, we do," and he does a  wheelie pulling
into traffic with a horn blaring behind us.  Jesus!


Sonny drives this thing like a daredevil, obviously showing off and I'm
holding onto him for more reasons than he feels good. He's a cool kid and he
does feel good, and I've always liked him, plus I'm still  a little psyched
about giving him his buzz cut, and then  the quick hot fuck, so I'm feeling
good. I assume this friend of his lives in  Framingham since he's eighteen
and must of to high school, but Framingham's a  big place and it takes almost
twenty minutes of Sonny's wild driving before  he's doing a big looping
U-turn and then coasting up the driveway of a house  in a middle class
neighborhood. He comes to a stop in front of a kid who's  looking at me like I'm
from outer space. Then the kid glances at Sonny, then  yells, "You did it!" He
comes over to rub Sonny's head while glancing at me  from the corner of his
eyes. I stare back at him and he averts his eyes  immediately and
concentrates on Sonny. Swinging my leg over the back wheel I  get off the bike while
those two talk about Sonny's buzz cut. Cornelius is a  little shorter and
stockier than Sonny, and not good looking at all. Actually  he's tough looking
with a five o'clock shadow of a fairly well developed  beard, and his buzz
cut is about two months old so he has a shaggy head of  course dark hair. If
I didn't know he was eighteen I'd guess he was between  twenty and
twenty-five years old. Sonny says, "Popcorn, meet my college  friend, Dwight Pierce.
Dwight, this is the amazing, Popcorn." We nod at each  other bumping fist,
muttering, "Yeah, how ya doing."


Popcorn wears black horn rimmed  eyeglasses, he's very muscular, and his
lips turn down naturally so it looks  like he scowling all the time. So, what
the fuck is Sonny doing with this guy?  The kid's been working on his bike
so there's a smudge of something on his  face and his hands are dirty. I just
can't picture these two as a couple.  Sonny looks like a cute young
choirboy and Popcorn looks like a member of a  motorcycle gang. He goes, "College
student, huh? I thought you were in the  Marines when I first saw you."
Surprisingly he has a very friendly,  pleasant-sounding voice that doesn't go
with his appearance at all. I shrug,  "I get that a lot, Popcorn. If I had let
Sonny cut my hair I wouldn't  have this unfortunate haircut." He looks
surprised, "You cut hair,  Sonny?" This sounds sweet, in a good way.  Sonny
shrugs, "Only Dyl, I mean, only Dwight's hair. Then I fuck him." Popcorn  laughs,
"You do not," and he looks at me, "Does he?" I nod my head, "Yeah,  Sonny's
a good barber and an awesome sex buddy." Popcorn frowns, looking at  Sonny,
"Are you guys pulling my chain?" Sonny and I shake our heads and  Popcorn
asks me, "So, you're gay?" I laugh, "Yep," and he asks, "Are you  'out'?" and
I go, "Yep." He gives Sonny a 'look', then says to me, "I've been  trying
to get Sonny to 'out' himself for the last couple of months." Sonny  goes, "I
am out! I told ya that ten times already," and Popcorn goes, "Not at
school you're not. You told your family and that's about it." Sonny takes a  deep
breath letting it out slowly, asking me,"Haven't I told the posse boys,
Dylan?" I chuckle, "Yeah, but they mostly don't believe you."


Popcorn gets us Cokes from a  refrigerator in his garage telling Sonny and
me what he's been doing working  on his motorbike. They talk in esoteric
mechanic terms known to guys familiar  with that kind of thing. I nod my head
like I know what they're talking about.  Mostly I'm intrigued how Popcorn's
demeanor is nothing like his appearance. I  think of Dawg, who's like that
too. I see affection between these two although  they 'rag' on each other a
lot as well. They're obviously good friends as well  as sex buddies, but
there's no touching. There's also no need for me to worry  about Sonny as far as
Popcorn goes. I'm happy Sonny's found himself a  boyfriend. And Sonny's
obviously not as shallow as I am when it comes to a  guy's 'looks'. Not that
this guy is ugly or anything, he's pretty much blandly  average looking with
thickish eyebrows, that's a big turn-off to me. Sonny  bums a smoke off me and
the two of us smoke while Popcorn tells us everything  that's bad about
smoking, ending with, "Not the least of the negatives Sonny  is the smell."
Sonny told me Popcorn doesn't make-out with him, but if he did  he'd really
have something to complain about regarding Sonny's smoking. Two  smokers don't
notice the smell or taste, but nonsmokers, forget about it.  Listening to
Popcorn's dissertation on the evils of smoking, I exchange smirks  with Sonny
although neither of us tries refuting what's being said because  it's all
true. Popcorn said everything in almost an apologetic manner, like he  was
sorry to have to point these things out to us smokers. He's a really nice  low
key guy and I'm happy for Sonny. Although Sonny could do better in the
looks department, if he's into this guy, Popcorn, I'm all for it too. Looks
aren't everything, even I know that, but if you have a choice...


Speaking of looks, Popcorn forever  endears himself to me when he says, "Ya
know, Dwight, if I were half as good  looking as you I'd try modeling or
something. Dude, you're the best looking  guy I've ever seen and you're not
taking advantage of your good fortune. No  offense intended. It's more a
compliment than anything else." I shrug,  muttering, "Thanks, Popcorn, but I
don't have as high opinion of my looks as  you seem to." Sonny says, "Don't
listen to him, Corn, he's as stuck-up as they  come," and we break each other's
balls a little bit, laughing at the good  natured insults. Popcorn rubs
Sonny's head again saying he needs a haircut  himself and he asks Sonny where he
got his buzz cut. Sonny tells him I did it  and that starts another, 'Are
you pulling my leg?' discussion from Popcorn.  Then Sonny wants to get back
to the main reason I'm here, asking Popcorn, "Can  ya believe I'm fucking
this hot college guy?" nodding at me. Popcorn quietly  says, "I guess I have to
believe it, but I wish you wouldn't. It makes me  jealous," and Sonny sort
of melts, putting his arm around Popcorn and scooting  over closer to him,
saying, "I bop his ass once in awhile, Corn, but you're my  main man."
Popcorn blushes a little shrugging his shoulders to get Sonny's arm  off him as he
moves away a little bit. He doesn't go for any physical signs of
affection, although he's 'out'. That's odd. I go, "Sonny, I gotta get going,  can you
give me a lift back to my place now." Popcorn asks, "Is it okay if I  ride
along with you guys?" Sonny goes, "Fuck yeah, Corn. Ride with us," and
Popcorn sort of sucks on his lips, then shyly asks me, "Do you think you could
give me a buzz cut like Sonny's? I'd pay you for the haircut." Jeez, I don't
 have a lot of interest in doing that because he's got course unruly hair
and  he's, um, not cute He's such a nice guy though, I say, "Um, yeah, okay,
Cornelius, but you don't need to pay me." He goes, "Really?" and he looks
at  Sonny for confirmation. Sonny shrugs, "He my private barber so any friend
of  mine gets a free haircut." Sonny's certainly making the most of this
bragging  situation he's in currently. I can't help but grin though, then
mumble,  "I don't charge anyone, Corn, not just Sonny's friends." He says, "Gee,
 thanks, Dwight."


We ride off with me hugging Sonny  and enjoying his scent. I'd love to fuck
him again, but I'm pretty sure these  two have their own plans along those
lines. Popcorn, wearing a helmet, rides  his motorbike either next to us or
in front. They both show off a little,  grinning at each other and paying no
attention to me. Why would they. It's a  little bit of a wild ride with
both riders trying to outdo the other, but we  arrive safely. I get Sonny to
drive around to the back of my condo so we can  go right into the basement
through the door next to the garage. They park  their bikes and inside I skip
the shampoo portion and get right to the  haircut. Sonny tells Popcorn to
take his shirt off and sit on the stool  explaining I usually do a shampoo
first, but due to time constraints we'll  skip it this time. I'm thinking, 'This
time?' then chuckle. Sonny's having a  good time being the big shot for his
friend, and it's kinda sweet. It takes  five minutes to do the same buzz
cut on Popcorn that I did for Sonny, although  I miss the sexual arousal
aspect of Sonny's haircut. When done it's a very  good buzz cut, and looks better
on Corn than Sonny actually. That's mostly  because Popcorn has the perfect
hairline as well as a nicely shaped head, and  of course dark hair looks
better than orange/red hair. Now that it's evenly  buzzed his course hair
doesn't appear course, and it's so dense no scalp  shows. He's smart to wear his
hair in a buzz. They're both thanking me, but I  get the feeling they're a
little anxious to do whatever it was Popcorn texted  Sonny about in the
first place. I can guess what that is, unless I'm  projecting again.


They take off with Sonny doing the  old posse boy's 'goodbye' of a hug and
pat on the back, minus the kiss he  usually gives me. I hear their wheelies
and tires squealing and then it's  very quiet and still. Looking at the pile
of red and dark brown hair on the  tile floor I'm shaking my head a little,
still thinking those two don't look  like they go together, but obviously
they feel they do and good for them!  Okay, after cleaning up the cut hairs
and putting the barber stuff in the  toiletry kid, I try to figure out what I
want to do now. I decide, fuck it,  I'll stay in tonight and be rested and
feeling good tomorrow for lunch with  mom and Tris, then my date with Robby
that night. I'll make brunch on Sunday  for the moms, then it's back to the
grind of college final exams. No need to  cloud my mind with any of that now
though. I take a long bath which I hardly  ever do on my own. My baths are
usually joint efforts with another guy. When  I'm feeling waterlogged, I
drain the tub and take a shower to rinse off. I  never feel rinsed getting out
of a bath with soapy water and  all.


After the shower I feel pretty  good, but I'm still looking foreword to
doing nothing. For dinner I order a  pizza and while waiting for it to get here
I fantasize the delivery boy will  be an incredibly cute eighteen year old
horny gay kid. Oh my god, will we ever  have a hot sexy time together! We'll
be fucking all around my bedroom. Then  the pizza guy rings the front door
bell and I open it to see some guy about  sixty years old with something
sticking out of one nostril. I avert my eyes  immediately giving him the money,
including too big a tip because I don't want  him standing here any longer
by making change. Inside I convince myself he  didn't make the pizza, and
the box the pizza's in was in that big cover thing  that keeps the pizza hot,
so he never even saw the fucking pizza and  therefore, if he had another
thing in his nose, it couldn't possibly have  landed on the pizza.  Opening the
lid, I peek at the pizza looking for  anything unusual, then nod my head
making a mental note to never use that  pizza shop again. Sixty year old
delivery men with something sticking out of  their nose is definitely not what
I'm looking for. The pizza goes  in the hot oven to crisp the crust. Soon I've
forgotten about the derelict  delivery man and eat the whole pizza while
watching a Red Sox game against the  Yankees. As usual with Yankee/Red Sox
games, the game last four hours and six  minutes before the Red Sox win 9 to 8.
Then I do my bathroom stuff and get in  my own bed, and with thoughts of
Robby on my mind I fall asleep.


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. And there  is
a new book, 'Mike his Bike and Me'. 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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