Date: Thu, 2 Jul 2015 12:14:30 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR Chapter  79

DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR


Chapter  79


by  Donny Mumford




Spending  Friday night at home is one of my more brilliantly conceived
ideas. It's  Saturday morning now and I'm laying in my own bed alone. As a
consequence of  staying home watching a ball game last night, I'm well rested
this morning, I  don't have a hangover, and my ass feels fine. The immature
notion that guys my  age need to party Fridays nights simply because it's a
Friday night is not  thinking outside the box. I analyzed the situation and
realized I needed to be  fresh today for my lunch with the moms, which will
happen in a couple of hours.  I need to be on my 'A' game at lunch if I'm to
adroitly handle all the questions  they'll bombard me with, especially the
ones about my plans for a summer in  Georgia. Then tonight I need to be at my
best for my date with Robby. He  deserves a boyfriend who's alert, bright
eyed, and eager to please his man.  Trying to handle either of those two
situations hungover and/or tired would have  been social suicide on my part. So
big deal, to be at the top of my game today I  sacrificed a Friday night out
on the town partying and having playful buddy-sex  with some cute sexy guy.
There were two factors assisting me in this bold  self denial: firstly,
there's the small matter of me not having a car, so I  couldn't go out on my own
if I wanted to, and secondly no one with a car at  their disposal called me
to invite me out. Of course hardly anyone in town knows  I'm here, so
there's that.






Heh heh,  chuckling to myself as I lay here in bed thinking those
self-deprecating  thoughts. Yeah right, me thinking outside the box, that's me alright
... not!  Actually though maybe I should give myself some credit because I
could have  texted some guys and probably hooked up with someone, but I didn't
do that.  Mostly I didn't because my ass was sore and I was really tired.
Still, I did  give some thought that I need to be on my toes at lunch today,
and I do want to  have a really good date with Robby too. I mean we're
winding-down to D-day. It's  like twelve days until Ryan and I drive off to
unexplored territory for me.  It'll be the first time Robby and I will be apart
for more then a week since our  first kiss. There's been a couple of spring
breaks and two summer vacations in  Wildwood, but that represents the total
number of times Robby and I have been  separated for as long as a week. Now
it'll be between  five and ten weeks  depending on when I can get home for a
weekend visit. So there's good reason for  me to make each date with Robby
between now and then as special as I can for  him. While getting out of bed
there's an unnerving thought zipping through my  mind... final exams in two
days. Damn, that's definitely hanging over my head  although I've never been as
well prepared for finals as I am this year. That's  partly thanks to
Robby's annoyingly consistent  study groups, and partly  because I've been more
conscientious about everything this year as well. After  all, getting good
grades is partially the reason for going to college. You know,  to prove to
potential employers I can follow directions and have enough self  discipline
and smarts to learn the material. Of course if I'm going to work for  Robby
after graduation those considerations become mute points, but maybe I  won't
work for him and then I'll need good college records for my resumé. Damn,  I
should have joined some team or club during high school. Yeah, but I can put
 some made-up high school activities on my resumé, who's going to check
what you  did in high school.




Before  taking a shower I put on an old CD by 'The Counting Crows'. I want
to start  thinking about the music rather than continuing to think about
reality. It's  another brilliantly conceived idea because I think of nothing
worthwhile  throughout my shower. The last song on the CD plays as I'm
finishing getting  dressed. When the CD shuts off the apartment is deadly quiet. I
plop a K-cup in  the Keurig coffee maker and hear the low hissing sound of
the water being heated  to the perfect temperature for brewing coffee. The
moms won this Keurig machine  as a consolation prize in a raffle. One of the
waitresses at work was selling  raffle tickets for her son's middle school
football team. Friggin' school board  makes the parents pay for their kid to
be on the sport teams. The moms said it's  the first time in their lives they
ever won anything. Tris has been leaning  towards tea lately, which is why
this machine is down here in our condo. That's  a shaky reason though
because there are K-cups for tea. Oh well, the moms know  what they're doing.
Anyway, when Chubby brings the Keurig we have at college,  both condos will have
one.




I drink my  coffee and smoke a cigarette on the balcony thinking about the
suit Willie  bought for me yesterday. I should never have mentioned I need a
new suit to him  because obviously he'd insist on buying it for me. I'd
hate to think  subconsciously that's why I called him. I know damn well it
wasn't a conscious  thought. I still feel lousy about it though and I pray he
doesn't think I called  him expecting him to buy it for me. Damn! Okay, that
wasn't a brilliantly  conceived idea... the suit thing. Taking out my cell
phone I call Willie and  get his voice mail. Guess he's still sleeping in some
expensive New York hotel.  I leave a message telling him how grateful I am
for the suit, but that I had no  intention of him buying it for me and I'm
going to pay him back for the suit if  it's the last thing I ever do. There, I
feel better. Yeah, but I'm a little  pissed-off too because now I've got a
$3300 debt which I wouldn't have if I just  got the fucking suit at Kohl's
like I planned. Huh!




Of fuck,  now I feel stupid leaving that message for Willie. What's he care
about the  money! My mom interrupts this disturbing train of thought by
coming out on the  balcony, saying, "Hi, sweetheart, why the sour puss?" She
bends over to kiss my  cheek, as I say, "Good morning, mom. Um, I needed a
suit to wear to church this  summer and..." she interrupts, "Oh, that's so nice.
Your friend, Ryan, goes to  church and you're going too. Tris and I tried
getting you boys to go to Sunday  school when you were seven or eight years
old. I forget why it didn't work out  for very long." I say, "It was Chubby,
mom. Remember he'd get sick just about  every Sunday morning? He claimed he
was allergic to the air freshener they used  in the basement of the church
where the Sunday school classes took place." She  laughs, mumbling, "Yes, now
I do remember something like that," and she laughs  some more, probably
remembering her and Tris' discussing the situation back  then. Her laughter
winds down to a chuckle as she mumbles, "You two were very  clever boys. The
enjoyment you both have given Tris and me over the years, well  I can't even
describe how wonderful it was, and still is. Ya know, honey," and  she bumps
my shoulder, "Tris and I saw through you and your brother's antics  more
often than you realize, but we wanted to encourage you two to be  autonomous.
It's because of the situation we all found ourselves in. I mean with  Tris
and me working most of the time you boys were home, we both felt we had to
encouraged you guys to act independently of us and we gave you the freedom to
do  that. It wasn't a fair deal for any of us, but necessity is a hard task
master.  You guys from an early age had more responsibility heaped on you
than was fair,  and us moms missed out on a lot of time with you two all those
years. It only  worked because you and your brother were and are a very
special team. You two  made it work from an early age. Very few boys of any age
could have dealt with  things the way you and Jeff did." She's tearing-up
now, mumbling, "The good  judgement you guys showed at such a young age was
remarkable." She gives me a  big shoulder hug with a kiss on the side of my
forehead, murmuring, "We love  both of you to death."

Well, after hearing that I think I'll skip over the  $3300 suit situation
involving me and Willie. That might be misconstrued as not  showing the best
judgement possible. Paying $3300 for a suit to wear to church  nine or ten
times might seem an ill-conceived plan. I go, "Oh mom, no worries,  Chubby
and I had a blast growing up together." She smiles, "Yes, the two best
friends the world has ever seen. That's what I believe you two claimed you were.
Tris and I heard that quite a few times, like maybe a million." I blush a
little, "We were only kids, mom, fer chissakes." She chuckles, "Yes, dear, I
know you were, but it was so sweet hearing that from you little guys. Tris
and I  would tear-up, oh my God we were so proud of you two." Of course
Chubby and I  still say that to one another, only now we add, 'best friends and
brothers the  world has ever seen'. It's probably a little creepy saying
that at our age, I  mean to anyone other than each other. It's our 'thang' and
nobody else's  business. I mumble, "Oh man, the embarrassing things we did
as kids, huh?" She  pats my shoulder, "You've never done anything
embarrassing that I can recall." I  roll my eyes, muttering, "Thanks, mom," and she
goes, "I mean it," and she  sighs, "Well, Honey, I better take my shower now
and get ready to go out. I'll  only be about twenty minutes and then we'll see
if Tris is ready. We're thinking  of taking you to Bertucci's for lunch, or
some other place if you prefer." I  say, "Bertucci's is awesome, mom.
Whenever you're ready."


Mom goes inside as I  chuckle because there's no way in the world she's
going to get ready in twenty  minutes, although she sincerely thinks she will.
While waiting I'm laying on the  chaise lounge enjoying a nice warm sunny
day while texting Robby and Ryan. Robby  text right back that he's at the new
office site and the place is spacious. The  financial meeting just broke-up
for a lunch break. Everything is going better  than his dad expected and so
everyone's in a positive frame of mind. He'll pick  me up tonight at seven
instead of six and he ends with, 'Love you, Rob". Huh,  Robby's been in a
businessman's frame of mind going on three days now. I admire  him for being
able to do that. He's not only able to do that, he likes doing it.  Jesus,
he's special. That gets me thinking again about marrying Robby and  eventually
being a stay at home dad. It almost gives me a boner thinking about  that.
My role would be submissive to Robby, but I try being like that for the  most
part now, so no big deal. When married it won't be a submissive like in a
sub/dom sexy way as it'll be in an unspoken loving married way were I'm
mostly attentive to Robby. After all he'll be supporting and taking care of us,
 his family. It sounds very appealing to me at the moment, an almost
carefree  life where Robby basically will have all the responsibilities. He's the
one who  can handle responsibility stuff too. We should have stayed engaged
instead of  breaking off the engagement. It's probably partially my fault we
put the  engagement on hold. I think I brought up the possibility and Robby
quickly  agreed, or it went something like that.


You know what I'm  thinking right now: I'm thinking this summer very well
could cement Robby's and  my plans for marriage. I can clearly see how much
I'm going to miss him, and how  important he is in my life. The wild oats to
be sowed will become less and less  important to us, I can feel it happening
even as I'm laying here. I just know  it! Both of us are going to be
surprised how quickly side-sex buddies fade away  in our lives. Plus, Ryan will be
bossing my ass around all summer, I know that  too, but that's okay because
by contrast Robby being the boss when we're married  will seem mild. By
nature Robby's not the real bossy type, but last summer he  was like the
perfect boss on the job, it's his natural leadership qualities that  will help
make him the perfect head of the household too. Jeez, I feel so much  love and
admiration for Robby right now, it's almost like a sexual thing. That's
what it'll always be like when we're married. I can see myself waiting for him
to come home after work and kissing him 'welcome home', then over cocktails
 we'll tell each other about our day. His day at work and my day taking
care of  the baby and everything else on the home front, whatever that might
be. It'll be  perfect.


As I'm daydreaming about  Robby, Ryan replies to my text saying he got a
call from Felix inviting him to a  party tonight. He asks how I'm doing, and
we text back and forth for ten minutes  or so before he gets a call from home
and we end our texting. Huh, Ryan. He's  something too, but different than
Robby in many ways. Well hell, I'll see if  he's the almost perfect boss
this summer and compare it to Robby of last summer.  Yeah, this'll be an
interesting comparison. Unfortunately I don't see a lot  of natural leadership
qualities in Ryan. Certainly not like Robby, but I'll keep  an open mind about
that and see if I'm surprised. Ryan can do the in-charge  sub/dom sex better
that Robby, but how about being in charge during our every  day life, and
on the job too. That remains to be seen, but like I said, it'll be
interesting. Fuck, I might even learn something. Looking at my watch I've got to
smile because it's been almost an hour since mom went in for her 'twenty
minutes' of getting ready to go out. Lighting my second cigarette of the day I
get a text from Bean, who heard from Sonny I was in town. He wants a haircut
so  I tell him to text me back around four o'clock. Huh, Bean. I had a
little thing  for him last fall when Ryan and I were sort of on the outs for
awhile. It was a  misunderstanding that we resolved and then I guess it was sort
of  callous of me to just forget all about goofy Bean. I don't know what my
 attraction to him was in the first place, other than his long skinny dick.
Maybe  it's how naive he is, or how clueless he is without him realizing
it. Wonder if  he's still sucking up to Ray? There's someone I have no desire
to hook-up with.  Ray's still my biggest mistake. How the fuck did I rat
ionalize that he was hot,  cool, and dominant. For a short time I couldn't get
enough of him. That was some  kind of rationalization right there, plus Ray
has a mean streak in him too. He  was into humiliating me when he could. Said
it was payback for those years I  mocked him. Fuck, my mocking was all in
good fun, heh heh. Yeah, but it wasn't  very nice of me. The other thing is,
Ray loved being dominant but only until I  pushed back, and then he
reevaluated the situation. I guess he's basically sort  of a bully without being
aware of it. He has some good qualities though, I gotta  be fair about it.
Anyway, whatever I felt about him has totally flown the coop  now.


Glancing in through the  sliding glass door I see my mom's finally ready to
go out. She's in the living  room talking on her cellphone. I get up and
wander inside just as she's saying,  "Okay, Tris, we'll meet you at the car."
Mom smiles at me, asking, "Ready,  dear?" and I go, "Yep, mom, I'm hungry
for some Italian food." At the car I get  a big greeting from my second mom,
Tris, and the hugs and kisses that go with  that. Both moms are very
demonstrative about showing affection, and not just to  Chubby and me. Everyone gets
a hug from them. They're always smiling with a nice  word for everyone and
I can't remember either of them ever raising their voice  in anger. Amazing!
At Bertucci's, because the moms are going to work later this  afternoon,
they only have two glasses of wine with lunch, while I have none. No  big loss
since I'm not crazy about wine in the first place. It's a long lazy  lunch
as meals tends to be at Bertucci's because the service is on the slower
side. During this long lunch I should have counted the number of questions I
was  asked about my upcoming summer, it would be a high number. I gave answers
and  reassurances that I felt would eliminate any worries the moms might
have about  me being a stranger in a strange land this summer. My answers and
reassurances  were made up on the fly of course, not knowing the actual
answers to most  of their questions. Questions I hope I remember to ask Ryan.
The moms even  discussed having a phone conversation with Mr. and Mrs.
Wilcocks which I  strongly objected to by pointing out I'm not going to a middle
school sleep  over. I'm almost twenty one years old, fer chrissakes. They
agreed, but mom  said, "Yes, you're an adult, but you'll always be our sweet
young beautiful  baby Dylan in our hearts." I gave them a blank expression
rolling my eyes at  that and they both laughed. Parents have a hard time
accepting when their  children are grown. Even so that was kinda sweet actually. It
was a very nice  time with the moms, their interrogation and all. I could
feel the love and  concern coming from those two wonderful woman all through
their  inquisition.


After lunch, while the  moms talk in Tris' condo, probably about everything
we talked about at lunch,  I'm in our condo making a list of things to take
with me this summer. Then I  have to cross out a number of things
remembering we're dealing with Ryan's Mini  Cooper. Mini Cooper convertibles do not
have a lot of room to store things. Our  clothing alone will probably more
than fill up the car. Oh wait, Ryan said we'd  use UPS for stuff that doesn't
fit in the car. What the hell am I'm worried  about this for, he'll have to
figured out how to get our stuff to Georgia, after  all he's in charge.
That's what's great about not being in charge, ya  don't need to figure out too
much. The closer I get to summer break the less  concerned I am about it.
You'd think it'd be the other way around, but it's not  for me. Now that I
think about it though, Ryan seems more concerned about it the  closer we get,
so maybe that should concern me. Another text: it's from Bean  this time, who
says he'll be over at five o'clock if that's okay with me. I  forgot all
about him, but I text him back saying I'll see him then.

I'm laying on the living room sofa now doing some more  daydreaming about
being married to Robby when mom hurries in  to give me a  kiss 'goodbye' as
she heads out for work. She reminds me about dinner tonight  and I tell her
Robby and I will be there around seven-thirty. She hurries off  because she
and Tris are running a little late this afternoon. Nothing new  there. Man
I'm in a lazy mood, but feeling really good. I get a gooey feeling  about the
lunch with the moms today. All the love and concern for me that I  sensed
coming from them sorta warms my heart. Some guys, like Connor for  example,
are missing that part of life, and that must be hard. Or maybe it's one  of
those things where you don't miss what you never had, so you don't know what
you're missing. Still it makes me feel sad for Connor because I know what
he's missing. All of a sudden I jump up looking at myself in the mirror. I'm
trying to rationalize having this marine haircut all summer. The doorbell
chimes  and I think, Bean. Sure enough, when I open the door there's Bean and
he's  alone. Huh, I guess I was hoping he'd be alone so maybe we could have
a quick  noon-er after the haircut. The memory of his long skinny cock up
my ass last  fall is enticing. A cock like Bean's is great for recreational
fucking, and  pretty much without penetration pain. It stills feels tight
though, but it  doesn't stretch the rectum enough to really hurt, not that a
little pain within  reason is necessarily a bad thing. Of course a skinny dick
like Bean's doesn't  create incredibly sexy orgasms either, just nice ones
that feel good. Certainly  a better orgasm than ya get from jerking off, not
that I can remember the last  time I jerked off.


Beans taller than me and  skinny, hence the nickname 'String-bean'
shortened to 'Bean'. He's standing  there looking unsure of himself as I go, "Hey
Bean! Wassup?" He shrugs, "Hiya,  Dylan, um, can I come in?" I laugh, "Of
course, ya nut, you used to just come in  without even ringing the bell when we
were doing posse boys' haircuts last  summer." He goes, "Oh yeah, I forgot,"
He comes in and does an awkward posse  greeting, then I nod toward the
steps and we go down to the finished basement  with me asking, "Do you see Ray
much?" He's like, "No, not a whole lot. He's got  another steady boyfriend
now. Some guy from Natick. Big bastard too, big like  in, ya know, fat. I met
him once and he was following Ray around like he's  Ray's dog or something."
Huh, it couldn't have anything to do with that fucking  mushroom head on
the end of Ray's big cock, could it? Needless to say I keep  that thought to
myself, instead I go, "Huh, ya don't say." Bean's not too chatty  today and I
ask him why that is as I'm shampooing his head of long brown hair in  the
half bath. He's another ex-posse boy who hasn't had a haircut since the last
one from me, which was around the first of the year. Bean says, "I'm not
talking  much, Dylan, because I'm nervous." I'm like, "Nervous? Why's that,
Bean?" He  shrugs, "Um, I'm trying to think of a way to mention something. Oh
fuck it, it's  nothing, it's, oh forget it..." and he blushes. Rinsing the
shampoo out of his  hair I'm grinning because he's hung-up on how to ask if he
can fuck me. He can,  but he has to be the one who brings it up. Ya know
what, Bean's the first person  I've run into since getting this stupid haircut
who hasn't mentioned it. He's  got something else on his mind obviously.


When he's sitting on the  barber stool, his long hair shiny clean, I ask,
"What kind of haircut, Bean?" He  shrugs, "I don't care.  Just a regular
haircut I can comb, but short too  because I don't know when I'll be able to
hook-up with you again." I chuckle,  but don't say what I'm thinking, which is:
feel free to go to a barbershop any  time you want. I like giving these
guys haircuts when I'm around, but I'm not  around much. A 'regular' haircut
means a neat tapered haircut with hair long  enough to lay flat, and then
there's a part on the left side of the head. I  might give him a pompadour too,
like Ryan has. Nowadays barbers usually take  shortcut with regular haircuts
by eliminating much of the tapering aspect, which  is really kind of the
point of the hair style. It's less trouble to just block  the hair across the
back of the neck and cut the hair on the sides and back the  same length
using a guide on the clippers. In other words 'Home haircut 101',  except they
charge you twenty bucks. That's a bullshit haircut for free, never  mind for
twenty bucks, but no one seems to know the difference, or more likely  they
just don't care. That may be the way they teach it in barber college  now
for all I know. Years ago I studied different haircuts online so I know how
they're supposed to be done. Anyway, I do a proper regular taper for Bean,
not  that he's any different from most. He doesn't know the difference
either. Lots  of his long hair gets cut off and I'm enjoying myself, especially
because the  cat's still got Bean's tongue, whatever the fuck that means. He's
still not  talking so I get to focus on his haircut instead of listening to
his convoluted  view of life. After his haircut Bean never does work up the
balls to tell me  what's on his mind, and he leaves with a very good
haircut, but with his dick  still in his pants. Either way is fine with me. During
his haircut I tried  feeling something sexual from Bean, but couldn't
reproduce the feeling I had for  him last fall. Funny how that works. As he
thanked me for his haircut, he  muttered an uninterested 'it looks good'. Then I
get the feeling from him when  he's leaving he's resentful that he didn't
get to fuck me... like it was my fault.  Heh heh, I like him okay, but not
enough to ask him if he wants to fuck  me.


As I'm sweeping up his  cut hairs I'm wondering if a year ago I'd have let
that opportunity for a nice  buddy-fuck slip through my fingers like that.
All I'd needed to say was  something vague like, 'Do you want to do the other
thing too?' and he would have  taken it from there. Jeez, I would have
liked sucking a boner on his noodle too.  I noticed he had a fairly nice scent
when he took his shirt off. It was subtle,  but I recognized it as the basic
teenager scent. I'm brushing Bean's hair  clippings off my arm, then decide
I need another shower to get ready for my date  with Robby. It's only twenty
minutes of six so I've got plenty of time. As I'm  going up the stairs from
the basement the doorbell rings. Opening the door I see  Bean, who's
looking down, mumbling, "Um, I, um, we forgot what we did last year,  Dylan," and
I'm like, "What's that, Bean?" He looks up, "Don't you remember?" I  can't
torture him anymore because he looks a little pathetic shifting his feet  and
blushing, the poor guy. He's a good kid, so I go, "Oh yeah! My fault, Bean,
 you mean the sexy part, right?" He nods his head, "Uh huh," and I'm like,
"Come  on in. We had some hot times last fall, didn't we?" He's frowning
again, but  feeling a little more comfortable, saying, "I don't know how the
hell you could  forget it, I sure didn't." I'm steering him to my bedroom,
asking, "Have ya  found yourself a fuck buddy yet?" He brightens up, "Sort of,
but he's randomly  on again, off again, ya know?" In my bedroom, I say,
"Like he's not sure he  wants to do it, and then he is?" Nodding his head, he
goes, "Exactly, Dylan. You  ever had a fuck buddy like that?" I go, "Once,
yeah. He was bisexual but  fighting the gay part of that." That's a lie, but
I'm thinking Bean's the person  he's talking about who wants to, then doesn't
want to. I don't want him to think  he's the only one like that.

It'd be mean to question him further about his  situation. If it was a good
situation he'd be bragging about it, so I assume the  sexual side of his
life isn't humming along on all cylinders. I don't pursue it,  but I'm hoping
for Bean's sake it's not Ray that he's on again, off again with.  Bean
deserves someone nicer than Ray. Bean's a simple guy without a mean bone in  his
body, no pun intended. Bean asks, "Should I take my pants down now, Dylan?"
I pull mine off, saying, "Yeah, that's a good idea, Bean." He steps out of
his,  saying, "This is a really good haircut you gave me, Dylan, I really
like it."  Huh, now that we're going to have sex the haircut gets evaluated
from a gruff,  "Good haircut, Dylan," to an excited and enthusiastic, 'Really
good haircut!' Ha  ha, that's the goofy part of Bean I like. Without making
him anymore  uncomfortable I drop to my knees, pick up his noodle in my
fingers, inhale his  scent that's just beginning to get ripe down here, and suck
on his cock as I'm  stroking it. Within ninety seconds it's a long, thin,
hard boner. Lots of  moaning and groaning from Bean with his feet almost tap
dancing. He either has a  very sensitive penis or he's extremely horny, but
most likely it's both those  things. Blowing out a lot of air, his face red,
Bean steps back stroking his  cock. He gasps a few times, his chest
expanding as he takes another deep breath,  then murmurs, "Nothing feels as good as
that, except the next thing." I grin at  him and he goes, "Oh man! Whew,
that was something, Dylan" as a long drool of  precum slides down his fist. He
makes a whistling sound grinning now and staring  at the precum. Yeah, it
feels good, I get it, but I need to turn my head so he  doesn't see me
laughing just a little. Bean's funny although he's not trying to  be funny.

My dick barely had the time to get hard during that  short blow job so I'm
joining with Bean stroking my cock. I say, "Wait a second,  Bean," and get
my hidden tube of lube from the bathroom. Why not use it even  though his
dick's long and skinny. I push his hand away from his boner and fist  it with
lubricant on my fingers and it gets even harder sticking straight out  from
his body like a ruler. That's a really tight boner right there. Holy shit!  I
stroke it a couple more times from the root, letting my fist pull off the
head  each time as he's wheezing and doing his little dance with more precum
drooling  out. Grinning, I say, "We're ready to go, Bean." I bend over,
grabbing my knees  like Sonny did yesterday. Looking back I see Bean come right
up to me and he  plugs the slippery head of his cock right in past my
sphincter. He reaches over  and cups my shoulders pulling me back onto his long
boner as he's pushing it in  at the same time. One long smooth penetration
that surprises me because it does  kinda hurt a little as I arch my back
grunting. That's it though, the rest feels  really good. Bean's hips start moving
and he keeps them moving and after a few  smooth thrusts he begins slamming
that straw into me, "Slap, slap, slap, slap,"  with him making whining,
"Eee," sounds with each thrust up my ass. Lots of nice  sensations buzz off the
nerve ending in my rectum. My anus is happily sending me  pleasure messages,
but my prostate is a little lacking due to the circumference  of the boner
in my ass. Still feels real good though and I do a quiet, "Umm,  umm, yeah."


No firecrackers or super  novas, but it feels good, real good and my cock
bones-up nicely bobbing between  my legs. I go, "Mmm, mmm," thinking how glad
I am he came back. A nice easy fuck  like this is a good warm up for the
main event with Robby later. Then  Bean's leaning on me flopping desperately
against my butt cheeks and back. No  way he's climaxing already!  He's a
little frantic getting his long skinny  arm around the front of my neck pulling
me up straight. His chest against my  back. Bean slams his cock up my ass
three or four times before he makes a sound  like something scared him, like
someone came out of his bedroom closet and yell,  "BOO!. And then he goes,
"Aaaaaah," and I feel his hard stream of cum bouncing  off the walls of my
bowels. Another humps and more cum shoots into me with Bean  choking me with
his arm's tight grip around my throat. Then two more humps and  Bean lets out
the breath he's been holding as he takes his arm away from my  throat and
steps back pulling his cock out of my ass. It was two minutes, tops.  Probably
closer to a ninety seconds fuck. I'm standing here with my dick in my
hand. Bean's bent over gasping, his cock slimy with his own cum as it dangles
lifelessly between his legs. Big exhale from him, then he straightens up
looking  at me with kind of a smug grin, asking, "How was that, Dylan? How'd ya
like that  fuck?" Well, it kinda sucked, but I say, "Hot, Bean, uber hot. Ya
got some kinda  weapon there between your legs. Awesome."


He's nodding his head, saying, "Yeah, glad I could do  that for ya. Hey,
how 'bout tossing me that box of tissues." I flip him the box,  then pull up
my pants as the copious amount of spunk he shot up my ass begins  drooling
out and wetting my underpants. Fuck it, I'll take a shower as soon as  he
leaves. He wipes his dick then pulls up his pants and holds out the cum
saturated tissue, saying, "Can you get rid of this for me?" I point to the trash
basket next to my desk and he drops the tissue there. He grins, "Bet you
won't  forget what comes after my haircut next time, huh?" I go, "We'll see,
Bean. I've  got a boyfriend ya know and, um, I'm kinda feeling guilty about
cheating on  him." He sits on my bed, "Oh yeah, it's the hot looking shortstop
who played  hardball with us last summer, right? You still going with him?"
I go, "Yep, and  as a matter of fact I've got to shower and get ready for a
date with him now, so  if..." He stands, "Oh, okay, right. Shouldn't we kiss
though? I guess we should  have done that first, huh?" I step over and hold
his chin giving him a big wet  kiss, then say, "That's for an awesome fuck,
Bean, but we might not be able to  do it next time. Okay?" He nods his head,
"Well, you can call me if you get  horny. Anytime, Dylan, and this is our
secret right?" I go, "Oh, absolutely,"  and I sort of walk him to the door. He
says, "Thanks, Dylan, this was awesome,  "and he gives me a quick kiss
missing most of my lips, getting me mostly on the  chin." He slams the door
behind him.


Okay, that blew! Yes, but on the plus side it didn't  take a whole lot of
time and Bean's got a little extra bounce to his step, so  I'm happy for him.
Taking my clothes off, I get in the shower and that always  feels good with
the hot water pouring over me. Then I laugh out loud about  Bean's fuck.
He's a harmless good guy, but that was a funny one. I feel  confident my
sarcasm wasn't detected by him and I'm glad it wasn't too. I  wouldn't want to
hurt his feeling, and then I'm laughing again, but soon feel  bad for Bean. Oh
man, I hope he really does find a fuck buddy. It wouldn't need  to be
anyone special, just someone who likes him okay and Bean feels the same  way
about the guy. There's so many gay guys who won't admit it to themselves, or  if
they do they can't find someone to share their body with. Damn, this is
making me feel bad, so the rest of my shower I go back to thinking about Robby
 and me. Finally I'm clean,  dressed, and ready for anything. Robby texts
that he's at the curb below my  condo. All of a sudden I feel excited, it's
almost the feel of a first date. A  first date with someone who finally asked
me out. Going down the steps I really,  really like that I'm honestly still
getting this excited  about a date with Robby. It's like new every time we
go out. I don't tell myself  how lucky I am to be Robby's boyfriend as often
as I should. Me saying that  isn't at all like Ryan saying he can't believe
I feel the way I do about him,  like he's inferior. I don't feel inferior
to anyone and I  know for a fact there are gay guys besides Robby and Ryan
who'd like me to be  their boyfriend. I know this because they've told me.
They're some wonderful  young guys too so I couldn't go wrong with any of them,
but I choose Rob  Dickers.


On the sidewalk now, but  I resist running to Robby's pickup like I've been
known to do in the past. I'm  getting too old for that spirited puppy love
kind of thing. Instead I try  walking kinda cool towards his pickup as I'm
watching Robby watching me. He gets  a smile on his face, and when I'm close
enough to hear him, he says, "That's  your cool walk, isn't it?" I laugh,
"Yeah, I'm perfecting it, guess it needs a  little more work." He says, "It's
plenty cool enough for me," and I stick my  face in his open window as he
leans over for a very sweet kiss, just lips and  when our lips pull apart
there a quiet 'smack' sound. He kisses me again real  fast, then says, "Hop in
the pickup you sexy boy." He's licking his lips as  I walk around and get in
the passenger seat. Robby says, "You taste good, baby."  Sliding over to him
for another kiss, Robby's hand holds the back of my head as  we do a
luscious wet kiss. From one of the cars zooming by someone lays on the  horn for
five seconds as he passes our parked car. Neither Robby or I even look  up to
see who it was.


We do our mini make-out  for a minute or two, then Robby says, "Guess what?
Dad ordered me a brand new  pickup. This one gets traded in, so kiss this
faithful fuck-mobile goodbye." I  frown, "This pickup has a lot of stories to
tell, Rob." He nods, "I know, but  this bad boy's has seen better days and
I'm sick of getting it repaired. Anyway  I've never had a band new pickup.
It's always a hand-me-down pickup from my dad.  Ha ha, then Dodger gets my
hand-me-down when I get dad's next one. He buy's a  new one every three
years." Huh, Dodger's been fucked over, pickup-wise. Robby  says, "Get your seat
belt on, Dylan, and lets get to the restaurant, I'm  hungry." This model
pickup has a bench front seat with three seat belts. I use  the seat belt next
to the passenger side door because it would look odd sitting  in the middle.
As I click the belt in place, I go, "Do they still make pickups  with a
front bench seat, or do all models have bucket seats now?" He gets us in  the
flow of traffic, muttering, "I don't really know, but I'm guessing only  older
models have bench seats. My new one has bucket seats." Patting the middle
seat, I go, "This front seat has served us well over the years, but I'm
guessing  sex in bucket seats might be problematic." He chuckles, glancing at
me, "Yeah, I  guess so, but we don't need to screw in a pickup anymore, babe,
we're 'out' and  we're over the age of consent." I say, "Uh huh, that sounds
good but the last  time I checked Massachusetts is one of eighteen states
that still has a law  against sodomy on the books. Theoretically a person
could get up to twenty years  in prison if convicted." Robby goes, "What?? Fuck
that, the Supreme Court banned  all sodomy laws." I'm like, "Yeah, I know,
but eighteen states still have the  law on their books, and for all I know
they might still have laws against  witchcraft up there in Salem, Mass. They
could burn some poor woman at the stake  any day now." Robby mutters,
"You've gotta be wrong, Dylan, Massachusetts allows  same sex marriages so why
would there be a law against anal screwing?" I shrug,  "Just saying..."


Robby parks in an almost  full parking lot for the restaurant mom and Tris
waitress at, and we get out.  The restaurant reminds me of a smaller version
of Burtons in North Andover. It's  an upscale suburban restaurant, a step
above  restaurants chains like, The  Cheesecake Factory or LongHorn
Steakhouse. The waiters, waitresses, and  bartenders wear uniforms and all the tables
have starched white table cloths and  soft cloth napkins with heavy silver
wear. It's a little pricey too, but bigger  dinner checks mean higher tips
for the wait staff. At the front desk the man  asks me if we have a
reservation, and I say, "My mom, Dee Newman, is expecting  us. I'm her son." The guy
smiles, "Ah, yes, Dee has a table set up for you  boys." I go, "Thanks, I
know where it is," and he holds his arm out, like, 'Be  my guest,' and we make
our way through the noisy room. I like noisy restaurants  as opposed to
quiet ones where people can listen to your conversation. The  table, as usual,
is set up near the kitchen so there's a lot of foot traffic,  but the price
is right, as in 'comped' which means 'complimentary' or... 'free'  in other
words.


Robby and I sit down and  my favorite older waitress comes over, saying,
"Hi, handsome,' as she passes us  menus, then squeezes my shoulder. I give her
my 100 watt smile, "Hi, Rita, is my  mom busy?" She says, "Dee said she'll
be able to break away in ten minutes or  so, both her and Tris. Who's your
handsome friend, and where's your brother?" I  say, "This is my boyfriend,
Rob Dickers, and my bro is still at Merrimack. He'll  be here next weekend
though." She says, "Nice to meet you, Rob," then, "What can  I get you boys
while you're waiting?" I say, "Two Manhattans straight up." She  shakes her
head chuckling, "That's awesomely ballsy of you, Dylan. A very ballsy  move on
your part, but ballsy's a good thing in my book. Two Manhattans straight
up, coming up," and she goes off to place the drink order. She didn't flinch
when I said, 'my boyfriend' because my mom's mentioned that her son is gay.
Mom  isn't embarrassed or ashamed that I'm gay anymore than I am. Robby
says, "Lets  not get drunk tonight, baby. I want to be able to fully realize and
enjoy our  time together after dinner." I nod my head, "Sure, but a couple
of drinks can  get the party started." He mumbles, "We don't need a party
starter, but one or  two drinks sounds okay." He's excited about everything
he's been hearing the  past couple of days in the meetings he's been attending
and he can't wait to  tell me about it. He gives me all the highlights from
the meetings, only  stopping when our drinks arrive so we can thank our
waitress, and then I hear  how he's especially excited about the expansion in
the condo project, the one  they had the winning bid on last year. It's now
'Dickers and Son Landscaping and  Design Company' and they've added digging
all the foundation holes for the five  condo buildings and the forty
individual homes to their responsibilities.  The development company is paying a lot
extra for that, in addition to all the  landscaping of over forty acres.
They'll be a total of one hundred and fifty  units, a hundred and ten being
condo units housed in ten buildings, and then the  forty separate
three-bedroom homes. He says, "Your's and my condo unit is on the  end of the second
building, Dylan. It's a two floor unit with a walk-out  basement to a nice
little yard, and we also have a gas fireplace in the living  room. It's one of
the premium two floor units in the entire fucking project, and  it has my
name stamped on... literally, not figuratively. Of course it's still a  year and
a half before we even break ground for that phase of the project. We'll
start the first phrase in June."


I'm  borderline interested in what Robby's telling me, mostly because he's
so  excited about it. He's like a cute kid excited about a new toy while at
the same  time he's like a businessman enthralled with the details of a
complicated  business deal. It's a very big project that will be built on an
area of  Framingham I'm familiar with. It's a large hilly area covered with
trees near  one of the Mass Pike toll booths. Somebody is quite the visionary
thinking that  location would be a good spot for a hundred and fifty homes.
Most of the  trees need to removed first of course, and that's part of the
Dickers company's  responsibility. They've doubled the size of their office
space and bought or  leased lots of expensive heavy equipment. Robby says,
"Dylan, it's unbelievable  how much money we owe the commercial lenders, but
they see this as a can't miss  project and quickly approved the loans once we
got that original financing for  phrase one." By now I'm not all that
disappointed when mom and Tris come over  interrupting Robby's fifteen minute
presentation. Robby and I stand and accept  hugs, kisses, and compliments from
the moms, and when the four of us sit down my  moms, says, "So nice to see
you, Robby. It must be very exciting for you and  your dad to be involved in
the Rose Tree project I read about in the paper," and  I get to hear a
condensed version of what Robby's just told me over the last  fifteen minutes.
Robby discontinues his synopsis of the project when our  waitress, Rita, shows
up to take our dinner orders. I order another Manhattan  before anyone can
say anything. Robby's still working on his first one so he  declines a
second.  For dinner the moms order their usual, a salad each.  Robby and I order
tonight's special and French onion soup as our appetizer.  The special is
standing rib roast with twice-baked potato. We'll ignore the  creamed spinach
that comes with it.


Before Robby can continue his project presentation the  moms jump in with
questions, but gratefully they're now mostly questions about  college life.
I'm grinning to myself recognizing that the moms didn't appear to  be too
disappointed Rita showed up when she did either. I'm assuming they'd  heard
enough about the Dickers' construction project by then. I love Robby's
enthusiasm though, and glancing at him now makes my heart feel warm and fuzzy  with
love. As we talk it's obvious no one's interested in acknowledging the
elephant in the room, which is me spending the summer in Georgia. None of my
dinner companions are especially happy about that, but it is what it is.
Robby  mentioned in passing that the company's new direction and expansion
renders the  landscaping and grass cutting division a minor role in the big
scheme of things.  Nonetheless it will be Robby's supervisory job this summer and
then next year  he'll be promoted to manager of that division. Because it's
now a minor part of  the company is not why Robby hasn't mention much about
it. He's avoiding the  subject because I won't be part of it for most of
the summer. Also there's the  uncomfortable fact that Danny will be part of
it, and living with the  Dickers no less. We're all aware of what's happening
this summer so what more is  there to say about it anyway? The moms, bless
their hearts, monopolize the  conversation while we're eating our soups and
salads thereby eliminating the  possibility of one of those uncomfortable t
opics accidentally being mentioned.  It warms my heart to hear them happily
talk about their twin fiancés and the fun  the moms have waitressing with
friends at work they've known for years. They  seem happy and that makes me
happy. They mix in compliments for Robby and me  along with the so-called funny
incidences they recite for Robby's and my  amusement, most of which aren't
that funny to us. The moms can't help but laugh  at their tales of
waitressing mishaps. Robby and me politely grin along with the  mom's laughter, not
quite getting the humor.


Too soon the moms need to get back to work and they do so  when Robby's and
my entrees arrive. As Robby and I eat we talk about the topic  that won't
go away. One we feel comfortable talking about, which is final exams  week. I
tell him about Ryan being so bored he found himself studying for finals,
then Robby lays out what he feels is a good plan for reviewing one last time
important material just before each specific final exam. He doesn't call
what he  has in mind  'a study group' but it sounds like a study group to me.
I  don't care though, I'm going to go with the flow and follow Robby's lead.
By the  way, there is one good aspect of finals week, and it's that we'll
have a  lot of free time. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we have a two hour
exam at nine  in the morning, but that's it for the day. Plus, we have nothing
we need to do  on Tuesday and Thursday. Ryan, Robby, and me fucked up by
having our fourth and  last exam the following Monday. Otherwise we'd be done
Friday, like Chubby. It  was a quirk in the scheduling and we can't do
anything about it now. So, a week  from this Monday we're done sophomore year for
better or worse. I think it'll be  for the better because we're all going
to crack that 3.0 GPA barrier, and not a  whole lot of college students can
lay claim to that. That's the topic we talk  about the most while finishing
our dinners. Luckily, during the conversation,  neither of us pulls a muscle
patting ourselves on the back.


Robby and I have coffee and vanilla cake for dessert, and  then, even
though the meal's been comped, we leave thirty bucks for our  waitress' tip. On
our way out it's hugs goodbyes from mom and Tris, with Robby  and me thanking
them for the dinner, and then we're out into the chilly night.  We light
cigarettes walking through the parking lot and then smoke them leaning
against Robby's pickup. Exhaling smoke, Robby says, "Awesome dinner, love me  some
prime rib of beef." I nod, "Yeah, medium rare and just right. Um, did you
tell me when you get your new pickup?" He says, "No, I don't think so. It's
a  week from Monday, right after our last final exam. I'll drop this one off
at the  dealers and drive the new one home." We're quiet as we finish our
cigarettes.  Maybe Robby's thinking the same thing I am, which is: Robby's
fuck-mobile of a  pickup, a vehicle we've had so much sex together in, is
being replaced by  something new, and at the same time we're embarking on
something new in our  relationship the same day. He'll be here with Danny and I'll
be there with Ryan  starting that Monday, the last day of our sophomore
year. Changing the status  quo is part of life though, part of growing up and
dealing with something new.  That sounds good, but it's a bit nerve racking
too. I put my arm around the back  of Robby's neck and hug him against me,
murmuring, "We're gonna be right back on  schedule with our original plans in
a couple of months, right Rob?" He gets his  arm around the back of my waist
for a hug, "Those plans are set in stone, Dylan.  You and me are getting
married and living together in that condo, the one with  my name on it. I
promise you that." He grins then adds, "We're gonna do it  whether you want to
or not! I'll drag you there kicking and screaming if I have  to." I laugh, "I
want to do it all, Rob, everything you've planned for us is  what I want to
do. Swear to God I do," and we kiss in the parking lot without  any
comments from the people walking by us to their car. I like that people are
becoming accepting of the fact that gays actually exist, and for the most part
they're more or less okay with it.


When  Robby's driving out of the parking lot, he grins at me asking, "Shall
we spend a  little sexy time in your bedroom?" He's got the cutest grin. I
say, "How about  we take a trip down memory lane and fuck in this loyal old
pickup that's been so  good to us?" He laughs, "You're a romantic, babe.
Where should we park?" To make  up for not being as interested as I should have
been in Robby business  recitation earlier at dinner, I go, "How about your
company compound? You can  show me the new office buildings and the new
'Dicker's & Son Landscaping and  Design Co.' sign." He goes, "Awesome idea,"
and that's what we do. As Robby's  driving onto the company's parking lot and
I see the big new sign, I ask, "How  come your dad didn't make it 'sons'
instead of 'son' on the sign?" He shakes his  head, "That's a ticklish
situation. I've brought it up to dad a couple of times  and he says if Dodger shows
an interest in participating in the business he'll  change it." That seems a
little hard-hearted  to me, but it's not my place  to say so. Then we're
onto the main section and I'm like, "Wow! I hardly  recognize the place. I saw
the early days of construction late last summer, but  I never expected it'd
be this big." Robby's proud, "Yeah, dad didn't spare any  expense. Look at
the size of that garage." There's this humongous garage with  huge doors.
Robby says, "That's where the big equipment is stored. We're leasing  most of
it." He drives around pointing out the various buildings, and  how the older
buildings I'm familiar with look almost insignificant. He  says, "We'll
continue running the regular lawn cutting service because it's a  good revenue
stream. Six months of the year it's landscaping and then snow  removal
during some of the other six months. We do snow removal for many  businesses in
Framingham, Natick, and other surrounding towns and we just  won a bid to do
snow removal for Walmart's parking lot too, and that's a huge  parking lot."


Robby parks where we've parked before at a faintly lit spot behind the  old
equipment building and out of sight of the video cameras. A burglar
wouldn't  know that, but Robby does. He shuts off the engine and we sit here
looking at each other  as we're slowly unhooking our seat belts. We're kind of
solemn for some reason  as Robby slides over to me, away from the steering
wheel. We get our arms around  each other, our faces coming together and our
eyes closing. The kisses are long  and sweet and slow for a couple of minutes
and then we just hug one another with  the side of our faces together.
Robby's tight body is a  wonderful body to hug. I murmur, "What's that I'm
smelling?" Robby says, "My  after shave lotion. Do you like it?" I nod my head,
"Yes, I do, but I like  feeling your beard on my face better."  Robby does a
little laugh, "Some  beard, huh. Ha ha, it's more like peach fuzz"  My fingers
ruffle back  through Robby's flat top, "Do you like your haircut, Robby?"
He says, "It's kinda short  and the guys on the team ragged on Danny and me
for having the same haircut, but  other than that I love it because you're
the one who gave me  the haircut." Sliding my cheek against his as I pull my
head back, and with my  face in front of his, "I love you so much, Robby,"
and rub my nose against his,  then we do deeper kisses and my cock gets harder
and harder as Robby's pink  tongue slides on my tongue. Ooh, it's such a
loving kiss we're having, and he's  so sexy, I moan. "Mmmm, Robby, I love you."


Our kisses get wetter, tongue licking tongue, and then  tongues licking
across lips, and then more moans and deep kisses with our bodies  squirming
together. As our making-out progresses there's heavy breathing and  some
panting, then little quiet whines of desire from both of us. Robby has me  up
against the door, leaning on me as we kiss and lick each other's lips and  face
with Robby gently humping his hard cock against mine. I soon realize I'm
going to cum in my pants again. My head moves against his, our foreheads
sliding  together, "Oh, oh, Robby, mmm." He moves his head so his lips are on my
ear,  with him murmuring, "Your pants, baby, get your pants down." I hump my
hips,  positive I'm going to climax but only precum plops out wetting my
underpants.  Robby sits up and wrestles his pants down past his knees, then he
gets on the  seat. He's on his knees, his body straight up with his head an
inch from the  roof of the pickup. He's looking down at me with his
beautiful shiny blue eyes  as I glance away from his eyes to stare at his four-plus
inches of hard fat cock  that's pointing straight out from his groin. Still
looking at it I'm fumbling my  pants and underwear down, trying to get them
off past my sneakers. Not an easy  thing to do, but I manage, then get on
all fours with the top of my head against  the passenger door's window.


Gasping  with desire I look back at Robby and do my too fast head nod
indicating I'm  ready, willing, and eager for him to fuck me. He walks two steps
on his knees  and I feel the head of his cock against my asshole. Robby puts
pressure on my  anus' lips spreading them, then more pressure opening my
asshole wider, and then  the fat head pops past my sphincter and I have
another climax false alarm  with my back arches and my hips doing their
involuntary hump shooting out an  inch of precum that gets my shoulders and head
shuddering and me moaning, "Ummm,  oooh, god that felt good." Robby presses his
boner slowly up my ass and it's a  fat boner, much fatter than my recent
sexual encounters. While it hurts as  it's steadily going up my ass with Robby
quietly grunting from the  sensations coming off his cock, it's not all hurt.
Along with the hurt is  intense sexual pleasure that I only experience to
this degree when having sex  with Robby. I feel his love for me and his
concern, especially because he knows  penetration initially hurts me. Taking his
fat cock up my ass spreads the walls  of my rectum and lips of my anus
significantly. Robby's boner's an unexpected  intruder for my rectum at first,
and it protests with the hurt, but when Robby's  flat against my butt cheeks
and he leans over and rubs my back with both hands,  getting his face close
to the back of my head, quietly asking, "You okay,  Dylan?" it's all
worthwhile. I nod my head as the pain recedes and I let out the  breath I've been
holding, murmuring, "It feels wonderful, Robby. Nothing feels  as good as when
you're inside my body... nothing." He lays on my back hugging  around my
stomach with both arms, whispering, "I don't know what love is if it's  not the
way I feel about you right now. Can't even begin to describe the ways I
love you and I cry thinking I won't see you for all those weeks coming up on us
 so quickly." I suck on my lips not wanting to talk about that, not  now.



Another hug from Robby  and he straightens up so his head again is almost
hitting the truck's roof. He's  slowly withdrawing his cock as I shudder with
sexual pleasure. Robby begins  steadily thrusting and right off the bat I'm
groveling from the delightfully  sexy sensations coming off my anus and
prostate, with my boner throbbingly  adding to the pleasure party. Oh, it's
feeling so good I can't explain it. He  gets into it fairly quickly, holding
onto my hips and fucking me steadily,  with  "Slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds,
and my moans of pleasure are all I  hear. Then shortly there's the sound of
Robby's ragged breathing too. Steady  thrusts of his fat stubby cock
hitting every nerve ending and they're all  ringing sexual pleasure notes. "Slap,
slap, slap," with me moaning along with  each thrust, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh,
mmm, mmm, ooh," it continues with my head  hanging and swinging between my
arms, bumping the door with every hump up my  ass. What follows, and I don't
know how long it is that Robby steadily fucks me,  but once I got past that
early scare of a premature ejaculation, I've  experienced the highest level
of sexual pleasure thus far in my life. It's all  about Robby's sexy scent,
his concern for not hurting me, the sense that his  first thought is giving
me sexual pleasure, and the nerve endings in my rectum  firing sexual
pleasure more perfectly than I thought possible, and the fact that  this is an
authentic 'making love' sexual act between two people who truly love  each other
more than they love themselves. Only love can make sexual acts  between two
people this special and this meaningful. It's as close to perfection  as we
humans can achieve. This intense loving way of making love, as the
euphemism goes, is the real thing and everything else simply isn't. This is the
loving sexual act I want to have with Robby forever, and if I didn't know that
 before, I know it now during our sex tonight. When I gasp, almost passing
out  from the overwhelming sexual pleasures, and then squeal with cum
gushing out of  my cock splattering against the passenger door, I'm more sure than
ever that  this is what I want forever. It's us, Robby and me, who can
reach this level of  sexual pleasure, but only together. And, after my initial
orgasm, when I'm  holding my breath for another, Robby makes a startling
sound as if the intensity  of his orgasm is so striking it scares him, and with
his next humps against me  my rectum fills with his creamy seed just as
another stream of cum shoots from  my cock with my body shuddering and bright
lights of pleasure blind me for just  a second, then everything begins to fade
into this peaceful euphoric state of  mind as I sigh, then a last body
shudder. Oh that felt so good I'm sure the  universe stopped moving for an
instant in time. What bliss I feel after this  lover's sex with Robby. It's
definitely different, in only better ways,  different from sex I have with anyone
else.


We're both huddled on  the seat gasping, me against the passenger door with
Robby all over me while we  wait to return to earth. After one last deep
breath Robby pulls his cock from my  ass and sits back sighing. I stay
hunched, my head against the door with my  knees almost touching my chin for a
minute, like I expect Robby to do it again.  Then I feel his cum drooling out of
me, so I grab a handful of tissues from the  glove compartment on the
dashboard and drop my feet to the floor of the pickup,  then sit back on the
tissues next to Robby. He puts an arm around me and we  cuddle together without
talking. The back of my head's on Robby's shoulder, the  side of my forehead
resting against his cheek. It's so comfortable and safe in  Robby's arms.
He takes another deep breath, a quiet one, then squeezes me,  murmuring, "Did
that seem extra special, Dylan? It did to me. It's was so  perfect and, I
don't know, it's like telepathically you were sending me your  love, that's
what it felt like anyway." I nod, "I was sending my love to you,  Rob, and I
felt your love too. It's how making love was meant to be, you know,  between
people in love." He grins, looking at me, "You're right of course, but  how
'bout that recreational sex with side-sex buddies you've been educating me
about for three years now." I go, "Um, that's, um, that's recreational." He
 laughs a little, "Oh, that clears it up for me."


We stay cuddling like  this for a while discussing things in an unserious
manner and getting goofy  almost like the sex we just had tonight was too
serious for us to understand  right now, almost like we felt self-conscious
about it, or maybe scared by it a  little. So we get a little silly. After
awhile we get our clothes back the way  they belong, and ride around talking
about our sophomore year, still avoiding  any talk about this summer. The
exception to that being what Robby said when we  were making love. We end up at
my place and get in my bed naked for another long  make-out leading to
another slow loving fuck that never quite matches the  intensity of our earlier
one. The earlier one I'll remember and look forward to  again reaching that
level of loving sexual pleasure. It'll only be with Robby  that I can ever
expect to experience that almost surreal sense of love and sex  mixed together.
We stay in my twin bed until almost one o'clock in the morning  enjoying
the feel of our naked bodies rubbing together while quietly murmuring  words
of love to one another. He finally has to leave because of an early round  of
meeting his dad has planned for Sunday morning. Robby will pick me up at
two  in the afternoon for our trip back to college. I lay in bed awhile after
he  leaves thinking about our sex in the pickup tonight, then realize in all
 likelihood it'll be our last sex in that pickup ever. It was one for the
ages  though, and although I don't fully understand how or why it happened
like it  did, and to both of us, I'll never forget it.


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


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

Please consider a tax deductible donation of any size to
nonprofit Nifty to help with the expense of maintaining this ginormous
free story site. Thank you very much.
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html