Date: Sun, 23 Jun 2013 04:17:58 -0700 (PDT)
From: donny mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO   Chapter 18  by Donny Mumford

Chapter  18

         by Donny Mumford

Ryan
drives off in his new Mini Cooper S convertible and then Robby leaves in his
pickup with Chubby and me giving a wave goodbye. Chubby asks, "Wasn't that a fun
afternoon, Dylan?" I go, "Yeah, baseball games are fun; I like watching the
Merrimack team, too." We go up the steps from the street with Chubby saying,
"I'll go up to my place and clean-up, then come down and help you with the
dinner." I'm like, "That's great, but what are we going to have for dinner
tonight?" He stops on the steps leading up to his condo, "Do you mean you
haven't gotten the food for tonight?" I laugh, "Duh, we never get stuff ahead of
time, what do you feel like?" He shrugs, "I don't know. I'll ask the moms what
they want. See ya in a little while." Inside my condo I go through my
bedroom to my bathroom and decide a quick shower's in order. Getting undressed I
step in the shower thinking about Ryan and me in here last night. What a hottie
he is! And I'm going out with another hottie later tonight. I've had zero sex
all day, can I believe it? Ha ha, yep, I'm oversexed, but so what. My shower is
a quick one, certainly much quicker than Ryan's and mine. I put on clean shorts
and a pullover Polo golf shirt without tucking it in, as tucking it in is too
dressy. Ryan's underwear, which I wore yesterday, gets stuffed in my dirty
clothes hamper. I don't want strange underwear laying about. Mom might not see the
humor in me wearing my boyfriend's underwear. I step into sandals and go out on
the balcony to smoke only my third cigarette of the day. No smoking at the
ballpark and definitely no smoking in Ryan's new car. When I'm halfway done with my
cigarette Chubby comes through the front door and joins me on the balcony. He's
squeaky clean too so he also had a shower. I say, "The shower felt good, didn't
it little brother?" He takes my cigarette, muttering, "You bet. The moms are
drinking cocktails on the balcony above us. They feel like roast beef with
mashed potatoes and gravy. They mentioned a vegetable too, but my mind drifted
so I don't recall what it was they said." I go, "We'll get corn on the cob. I
saw some Jersey white corn in Stop & Shop this morning." Chubby takes a drag
from the cigarette, asking, "Um, how come we didn't think to get tonight's
dinner when we were at the store this morning?" I feign shock, "Are you shitting
me? We have too much on our minds to do long-range planning; get serious, little
brother." Chubby goes, "Oh, yeah, that's right. It's best if I just follow my
big brother's lead." He finishes the smoke and goes to flick it, but it slips
and goes off my shorts. I kick it over the balcony mumbling, "Sucky flick," and
we're off for Stop & Shop again. I drive with Chubby texting and chuckling.
Then he says, "Dodger's drunk I think, and Connor too. They're both texting me
gobbledegook saying it's their first Sunday off and they've been in the PX
drinking 3.2 beer." I say, "Lots of people drink 3.2 beer; it's called light
beer by civilians."

There
are no cute boys bagging or working the registers tonight. The summer sucks as
far as cute bag boys go, I don't know why they don't work in the summer. Also,
whoever's in charge of the part-time hires needs to be retrained. There are bag
boys alright, but they are a long, long way from cute. I'm betting these boys
can't even say the word cute because it's a foreign concept to them. Chubby
asks, "What's wrong? You look pissed off." I grin, "Me, pissed off? Surely you
jest. I'm concerned Stop & Shop isn't maintaining a high enough standard of
bag boys to warrant my business, that's all. I need to check out Market Basket
more often." Chubby's like, "Market Basket? That's in the shopping center and
the traffic sucks." I go, "Much better prices and bag boys." He laughs, "Oh, I
get it. Tonight's bag boys don't meet your standard of cuteness." I say, "They
don't meet anyone's standard of cuteness, but what's all this talk about bag
boys? We got shopping to do." He laughs, and off we go. The price of black Angus
beef is through the fuckin' roof. When did that happen? We find a smallish eye
roast for twenty-three dollars and put it in our basket. We use Russet baking
potatoes for mashed potatoes sometimes, so we grab four smallish ones. Chubby says, "How
'bout we do rebaked baked potatoes. It's like mashed potatoes, only better. I
go, "Yeah, but they're twice as much work," and he's like, "I'll do 'em, lazy."
In produce we peel back the husk on about ten pieces of corn on the cob before
finding four we like. We prefer small kernels. We'll have a small salad, too. At
the register a bag boy, who's a long way from cute, bags our groceries and
mumbles the obligatory, "Have a good one," but he didn't sound like he even
meant it. Jeez, the bag boy situation is piss poor and getting worse around
here. On the way out of the store I'm looking for a suggestion box, but don't
see one so I can't officially complain about the deterioration of their
part-timers. It's appalling. Chubby says, "You owe me fourteen dollars and
twelve cents," which I fork over when we get in the Jeep. At my condo, to be
different, I put the roast on the grill to get some grilled flavor on the
outside and crisp up the fat, then I'll finish it in the oven. Chubby microwaves
the Idaho type potatoes, then wraps them in foil to put in the oven with the
roast, then we husk the corn and make four small salads to keep in the
refrigerator until dinner. We join the moms on the balcony for some
conversation. A little later Chubby takes me by surprise, saying, "Dylan wants
me to ask if we can have one of those drinks you guys have?" I go, "My little
brother lies," and mom asks, "You don't want one, honey?" I go, "No, I do, but I
didn't tell Chubby to ask," and Chubby goes, "Not in so many words, but I knew
you wanted one so, as your little brother, I knew it was my duty to ask." Tris
chuckles, "You two have fun together, don't you?" I go, "Yep, what are you
drinking?" Mom says, "Manhattans, this is our first one. How long until dinner?"
Chubby says, "An hour." The moms gave up trying to talk Chubby and me into
letting them cook Sunday dinners, or any other meal for that matter, that was a
long time ago. We told them we like cooking, and we do, but the real reason is
the moms are bad cooks. They've been eating most meals at the restaurant where
they work since they were both eighteen, and therefore never had the opportunity
to learn how to cook. When they tried cooking on Sundays they'd have every pot
and pan in the house in use working their asses off, sweating and cursing under
their breath and it was stressful for Chubby and me. Plus, the finished product
was embarrassingly poor which would get them weeping. It was horrible, so us
boys took over the food preparation and it's been smooth sailing ever
since.

Tris
says, "I think it would be alright for the boys to have one, don't you, Dee?" My
mom asks, "Are you driving tonight, Dylan?" I go, "Nope, my boyfriend is," and
the moms grin. Chubby jumps in before Tris can ask him the same question, and
says, "It's settled then. I know how to make the drinks. Do you moms need
another?" Two statements and a question gets Tris off the subject of Chubby
driving after a cocktail. Both moms shake their heads 'no' with Tris saying, "No
thanks, Jeffrey, we drink very slowly to drag out the enjoyment." Chubby goes,
"Very smart way to drink, that's what Dylan and I will do, too. Come on, Dylan,"
and we go inside with the moms chuckling, knowing they've been conned again.
Inside Chubby says, "Mary Jo and I are double dating tonight with a boring
couple, and I don't know why MJ insists on inviting those two. Anyway, I need a
little libation to get me through the night. Not Manhattans though, they suck.
I'll make us bourbon and Cokes." I go, "Good idea, lots of Coke in mine." Chubby
makes the drinks and we take them up to his balcony so we can smoke in peace. He
puts on Grouplove's 'Don't Fly Too Close To The Sun' CD and out comes the
tune, 'Tongue Tied'. With that in the background we discuss the summer so far.
We talk about getting a Mini Cooper for our new car at summer's end, and about
our week vacation in Wildwood that's coming up in the middle of July. We talked about the Wednesday night cookouts the Dicker's are starting up this Wednesday
and each Wednesday after that, and how much we miss Dodger and Connor. Finished
our first drinks, Chubby takes our glasses to his condo and brazenly makes us a
second drink. The moms are sitting with their backs to the condo looking out
over wetlands beyond the parking lot, so they're unaware Chubby's making our
second drinks. Getting a little buzz on with whiskey is fun. We've never done
drugs though, unless booze is considered a drug. Chubby and I are both talkative
tonight although we'd be comfortable with each other even if we weren't talking.
When we finish the second drink we go down to my condo and Chubby takes the
baked potatoes out of the oven, cuts them in half, and scoops out the flesh to
make whipped potatoes. As he does that I fill a pot with water for the corn.
With the potatoes whipped in light cream and butter, they're scooped back into
the shell of the potato skins. The roast comes out to rest, covered with
aluminum foil, and then the oven's turned up to 400 degrees and the potatoes get
rebaked. When the water's boiling, in go the corn on the cobs for five minutes.
We have corn on the cob serving dishes that are long and narrow that we put
slices of butter in and then tell the moms, "Five minutes." The corn's eaten
like an appetizer, then the meat, potatoes, and salad... with iced teas for
everyone. Funny conversation as we eat, and surprisingly little prying from the
moms. It's an awesome Sunday dinner!

After
dinner Chubby goes up to his condo to get ready for his date, and I go in my
bedroom to get ready for mine as the moms clean up the kitchen. Around here
everybody pitches in for their area of expertise. In my bathroom I wash my face
and hands, then brush my teeth because corn on the cob has a way of getting
between your teeth for a very unpleasant look. No sense brushing my hair because
half inch long hair refuses to do anything except bristle straight up off my
scalp. It helps having dense hair like I do. Guys with extra short hair who have
less dense hair than me tend to show scalp, which isn't cool. You can't see my
scalp; my hair looks like two-tone blond velvet, but feels bristly, unlike
actual velvet. Then I look at the reflection of my dog collar in the mirror and
convince myself it does look kinda cool, or am I rationalizing again? No, it
looks cool and if Ryan hadn't buckled it so tightly it'd be very comfortable
because it's made of soft leather; owners take care of their dogs. Then I see
the little medal hook on the side for attaching a leash and I grope my dick
remembering that a dog collar on humans is a sign of submissiveness, in my case
submissiveness to Ryan. Hmmm, Robby didn't give my dog collar a second thought, as he assumes it's a necklace like I inferred, but maybe I should be honest with
him about that. It feels like I should, but does that make good sense in
actuality? I mean, what good can come of that? It could be Robby would interpret
my honesty about the dog collar as me throwing Ryan and my lovers' relationship
with him in his face. He kinda did that to me in the early days of our
threesome, as he flaunted his and Ryan's relationship, but it's not in me to do
that to him. Robby came to his senses in a couple of weeks anyway; he was just
reacting to years of me and my abundance of sex on the side. I can understand
how he felt and I don't hold it against him. One last glance at my dog collar
and I go out on the front  stoop to wait for Robby. It's five of eight and
he's almost always on time. He is this time too, here comes his pickup now. I
wonder what Ryan's doing tonight?

Skipping
down the steps, then walking up to the driver's side window as Robby putting  it down, I'm saying, "Hi, Robby, you're right on time." He grins, saying, "I like
being on time. How ya doing?" I go, "I'll be doing better if you give me a
kiss." Bending down with Robby leaning his head towards me, I put my arm around
his neck and try imitating Ryan's kissing technique. It's a thirty second kiss
and a really sweet one too. When our lips part, Robby says, "It's so cool being
openly gay with you, boyfriend," and I kiss his lips again, mumbling, "Yeah,
it's something we should have done way back when you first suggested it." Robby
goes, "I chickened out with that, remember?" I walk around the pickup and get
in, then slide over to Robby, saying, "I love you and I need another kiss."
Robby grins, muttering, "Good," and gets his arm around my neck this time and we
do a longer version of our 'hello' kiss, and when we're done Robby says, "You
kiss more like your twin every day. Did ya know that?" I go, "Uh uh, I didn't,
but it doesn't surprise me because I emulate Ryan a lot - not on purpose, but
it's just something that happens." He asks, "How come you never copied stuff I
do?" I go, "I do copy lots of stuff you do." Robby's doubtful, "Like what?" I
shrug, "Lots of stuff, like being nice, and I try to be conscientious like you
are, and I like to dress like you, and I used to have the same haircut you had
all the time too." Robby laughs, "I always copied your hairstyle, and you've
always been nice and while you're conscientious about a lot of things, I need to
nag you to be that way with school work." I kiss him, saying, "I was
conscientious in your study group, right?" He smiles, "You are so fucking cute
and not just your looks either, you've got the cutest, most irresistible
personality of anyone I've ever met." My reply is, "I'm a big fan of compliments
so I'll just say thank you although I'm not sure what a cute personality is, but
you have one, too."  He laughs, "You don't know what it is, but you know I
have one." I go, "Exactly, what are we gonna do tonight?" Robby ask, "Well, what
would you like to do?" "You know what I want to do, Rob," and he grins because
he knows very well what I want, plus I called him Rob. I didn't do it on
purpose, it just came out that way. He says, "Well, it won't be dark for an hour
or so which means we can't do what both of want to do until it is dark. How
'bout if we go to the mall so I can get some new sunglasses and maybe a few Polo
shirts like you're wearing? And maybe I'll see a leather necklace like you have
as well. I got my ears pierced like you did and I'm wearing little loop earrings
like you, so why not copy your necklace too. Alright?" I go, "Sure, but this is
a dog collar," he shrugs, "Okay, a dog collar necklace, whatever it's called.
One more kiss," and we do another very sweet, soft lovers' kiss that gets the
attention of my dick and wakes up my nuts. Then Robby drives the pickup away
from the curb in a manner Ryan would consider reckless... haha.

I
told Robby I'm wearing a dog collar, but he interpreted that as me calling it a
dog collar necklace. That's probably all the confessing I need to do about the
dog collar. Why shove the fact I'm wearing it, or the fact that Ryan told me to,
down Robby's throat? I came right out and said it's a dog collar and that's all
I intend saying about it. It'll be Ryan's and my secret why I'm wearing it. When
I see Ryan I'm going to ask him if he will buckle it one notch less because at
times it feels too tight. Just thinking that makes me adjust my package because
being submissive to that little hottie turns me on. Robby sees me pulling at my
crotch and asks, "Thinking about later tonight, are you?" He's grinning so I'm
not about to make him feel bad. I say, "Yep, it's hard not to think about later
tonight. Where we gonna go so you can fuck me good?" He makes the turn into the
mall parking lot, saying, "I thought we'd drive out to the abandoned drive-in
theater to join the other lovers who use that place as a lover's lane. The cops
let us alone there for some reason." I go, "Cool! I wish they still had drive-in
movies actually." Robby parks and we walk towards the mall entrance with me
walking too close to Rob like you know who does. Robby notices and grins at me,
then he puts his arm around my waist, so I snuggle against him. He says, "Damn,
I like this new more affectionate Dylan. You're finally showing me the love I
need and it's awesome." I put my arm around his waist and give a hug, saying,
"You showed me how, Rob, and because you have us twin boyfriends now it keeps me
on my toes, so to speak." He makes a face, muttering, "You know damn well you
coined that phrase 'twin boyfriends', but you've changed for the better when
Ryan came on the scene, so keep it up because I'm loving it." I go, "Sure thing,
Rob." Inside the mall we browse the Polo section of Macy's men's department and
Robby finally decides on two golf shirts on sale. They're the same, but in
different colors. I go, "Nice choice. Can I wear one when you're wearing the
other? You know I like to dress like you." He chuckles, "I'm getting these
shirts because you're wearing that cool Polo shirt tonight, I'm copying you."
Holding back a grin, I mutter, "Nonsense, I always copy you. How about Wednesday
at the cookout we wear these new shirts?" Robby chuckles, "Sure, we'll be twins
too."

We
browse some more, but don't buy anything else. On the mall's second level
corridor Robby sees a sunglasses store and we go inside. There are a million
different sunglasses for sale and after Robby tries on a couple hundred thousand
of them, I've had enough so I mumble, "I'm going outside and sit on a bench for
awhile, Okay?" Robby nods his head, "Sure, I'll meet you outside when I can
decide which one of these sunglasses I want." I'm on the bench about thirty
seconds when someone wraps their arms around me from behind.

I
know from the whiff of body odor it's Ray Ellis, Elliot's younger brother. I
ask, "Are you eighteen yet, Ray?" He goes, "How'd ya know it was me?" "That's
easy," I mutter, "I recognized your, um, sexy scent." He's still got his arms
around me, but he seems impressed, "Wow, I've made an impression on you. That
makes me feel good," and he gives my cheek a kiss, "You always smell sexy too,
and yeah, I turned eighteen a couple of weeks ago. Who put this dog collar on
you? It's cool." Ignoring the dog collar question, I respond to his comment
about me smelling sexy, saying, "Thanks, Ray, no one's ever told me I smell sexy
before." Then I ask, "What'cha been up to this summer?" He lets go of me and
comes around to join me, sitting on the bench right next to me with our legs
touching, saying, "I got a part-time job at Dairy Queen, twenty hours a week.
How come you haven't called me, Dylan. I thought you and me were going to be
boyfriends. I broke up with my girlfriend two weeks ago." I mutter, "Sorry to
hear that, Ray. Why'd ya breakup?" He goes, "She's going steady with Tom Olson." I
stifle a chuckle because she broke up with Ray, not the other way around. He
asks again, "How come you haven't called me, you know how good I fuck you?"
Puffing out my cheeks, I go, "Um, I'm in a committed relationship now, but if I
weren't you'd be the first person I'd call." He mumbles, "Thanks, I know you
really got off when I fucked you last time. Didn't you?" Taking a deep breath, I
mutter, "You know it, Ray. Hey, have you decided if you're bisexual yet?" He's
like, "Jesus, of course not, Dylan, but if you want to be my boyfriend I'll be
bi for you. Other than that I haven't been able to decide about the bi thing."
He's a hoot! Very immature and clueless for an eighteen year old. Some of us
teens mature earlier than others. I ask, "Any other boys in your life?" Ray
squeezes my thigh close to my dick, going, "No, no one except Gary Becket, but
he's not all that cute. He gives me blow jobs occasionally and he's got a big
dick, so it's cool." I ask, "If he's blowing you how do you know he has a big
dick?" Ray shrugs, and like it's obvious, he says, "Because I make him get naked
before I'll let him blow me of course." Then he wants to know, "Who you in a
committed relationship with? Boy or girl?" I go, "Boy, it's Robby Dickers," and
he says, "Get out of here, he's not gay." I shrug, muttering, "Oh okay, I'll
tell him. He mistakenly thinks he is." Ray asks, "Can you give me another
haircut? That last one was cool, but now my hairs scraggly and over the tops of
my ears. My dad's been nagging me to get a haircut, but I've been waiting for
you." I go, "You could have called me, Ray," and he says, "I've thought about
it, but I'm not good at rejection and you tend to do that to me. Didn't we have
a hot sexy time my last haircut?" I look at him, and he does need a haircut; he
needed one a few weeks ago. "Yeah, we did. Can you come over around five o'clock
Monday? I'll be glad to give you a haircut; you've got awesome hair," and there
is something very sexy about him too. Running my fingers through his hair, with
Ray leaning into me, murmuring, "That feels good, Dylan. Can I tell you a
secret?" I go, "Sure, what is it?" He leans closer and whispers in my ear, "I
jerk off sometimes thinking about fucking you. You've got a great ass. Don't I
fuck you good? I've done it three times and you loved it every time." He does
fuck me good, that's for sure. His dick's not as big as Ryan's, but it's a real
nice size. I go, "Yep, you fuck me good, Ray. Let me think about it, okay?" He
shrugs, saying, "Don't think about it too long or you might lose your chance. I
mean, if somebody else comes along I could lose interest in you maybe. Did you
ever think of that?" Oh boy, he's out there alright, "Um, no Ray, I can't say
I've thought about that. It's something to consider though, fer
sure."

Robby
steps out of the store wearing sunglasses, the tag still hanging from the bridge
over his nose. He asks, "What do you think about these," and Ray says, "Yeah,
they're cool." Robby goes, "Hi Ray, how's your brother?" Ray asks, "How come I
wasn't invited to that party a few weeks ago at your house?" Robby goes, "Um,
your brother should have told you about it," then to me, "What do you think,
Dylan?" He means do I like his choice of sunglasses, so I go, "Yeah, they're
cool, Robby!" He nods his head and goes back in the store. Ray says, "Okay, I'll
give you another chance, Dylan, but you're running out of chances. I can't wait
forever, ya know. Make-up your mind or I'll go back to girls 'cause they think
I'm hot." I say, "You are hot, and I appreciate you being patient with me, but
like I said, I'm in a committed relationship so maybe you oughta move on to the
girls." He's like, "Well, since you invited me over Monday at five o'clock
you've bought yourself a little time. Word to the wise, Dylan, don't blow it.
And if we're going to be boyfriends I won't put up with you diddling around with
other boys and you'll need to blow me regularly. You'll strictly be doing
the, um, female stuff. I'm setting the ground rules for you up front..." He was
going to say more, but he hears, "Ray, come on, dude. We're going to the food
court." It's one of the boys from his posse. I met them the last time I was with
Ray and he wanted me to hang out with him after a haircut and a fuck. Ray yells
back, "What the hell's wrong with you, Fielder? Can't you see I telling Dylan
Newman something? I'll see you at the food court." Fielder comes over and says
to me, "You're Rob Dicker's friend, ain't ya?" I go, "Yes, that's basically how
I'm known. Someone's always saying to me, 'Hey, you're Rob Dicker's friend,
ain't ya?' It's my nickname: 'Rob Dicker's friend'." Fielder frowns, "Whaddaya
mean?" Ray says, "We're having a private conversation here. Beat it!" Fielder
says, "Fuck you, Ray," then slinks away. Ray's the alpha dog in his group of
mongrels. Robby comes out of the store wearing the sunglasses, muttering, "These
Ray Ban sunglasses were forty-nine dollars on sale. Can you believe that?" The
sunglasses Willie bought for me were two hundred and fifty dollars so yeah I can
believe it, but I say, "Wow, that's expensive! They're really sharp though, I
like the blue lenses." Ray asks, "Are you gay, Rob?" Robby goes, "Yeah, but
why'd you ask me that?" Ray's like, "No reason, it's just that I always thought
you were, that's all," which is a contradiction of what he said five minutes
ago. Robby says, "Dylan's my boyfriend, if it's any of your business." Ray's
defensive, "Hey, no problem, Rob. You playing ball for Merrimack?" Robby nods
that he is, then says to me, "Let's get going, Dylan," so I get up, rub Ray's
hair again, and say, "See ya tomorrow, Ray," and he goes, "Don't forget what I
said," and he struts off with Robby frowning, and asking, "What's with him?"
"He's coming over for a haircut tomorrow, that's all. Ya think it's dark enough
for the drive-in?" Robby grins, "Anxious, ain't ya? Ha ha, me too! Let's
go."

As
we're walking towards the exit I realize I'm walking too close to Robby again,
just the way Ryan does it, and Robby knows it. He chuckles and puts his arm
around my neck and we walk like that. He says, "Damn, I get a kick out of you
and Ryan; both you guys walk right next to me. I won't lie, it makes me feel
good that you two like me so much." I say, "We love you, Rob, especially me." He
squeezes my neck, muttering, "You said, Rob, heh heh. You're both awesome. I'm
so glad we worked out a way to keep the threesome going. It's so cool being in
charge of you twins. Fun too, don't ya think?" I say, "Absolutely! It rocks." In
the parking lot he lets go of me and we light a cigarette, as I ask, "Generally
speaking, how'd your date with Travis go?" Robby exhales smoke saying, "Good.
Have you picked your side-sex partner yet?" I shake my head 'no', thinking maybe
it'll be Ray, but I'm not sure and I wouldn't tell Robby it's Ray even if it
turns out to be him. Most guys think Ray's a flake, and he is, but to me he's
hot and I'm not sure why. I know that dot on his cheekbone is sexy; on a woman
it's called a beauty mark. On Ray's clear complexion I don't know what it's
called. Maybe a mole, although that's not a sexy word so I'm not calling it
that. Then I realize Lee has one too, so maybe that's why I think he's sexy.
That plus his shoulders and facial hair. Hmmm, he'd be a good candidate for the
one side-sex partner I'm allowed. Jeez, having sex with Lee is a hot thought
even though he's not very nice to me overall. As we smoke Robby goes on a little
about how much he misses his brother and I take the opportunity to ask, "Do you
think Dodger will want to, you know, have a welcome home sexy time with me, and
would it be alright with you?" Robby goes, "He and I are going to have a welcome
back sexy time together, I can assure you of that. He'll probably find some way
to seduce you too, but that's between you two." So, there's an endorsement of
that idea if I've ever heard one. We put out our cigarette butts and Robby hands
me a stick of spearmint gum, then puts a piece in his mouth and we walk to his
pickup chewing. I say, "Good idea, Robby, cigarette breath isn't cool." He
chuckles, muttering, "Ya think?" We get in the pickup and before I can buckle my
sear belt, Robby says, "Slide over here, Dylan," and when I do he holds my face
between the palms of his hand, looks me in the eyes, and says, "I'm really,
really jealous of you and Ryan, just so you know," and he gives my mouth a wet
kiss, then licks up the front of my nose like Ryan does. All I smell and taste
is spearmint, and Robby lick leaves a sticky feeling on my upper lip and the
front of my nose. Then we do an open mouth kiss and somehow Robby's gum gets
into my mouth. Robby reaches down and plays with my cock as we kiss and with
both pieces of gum between my cheek and my bottom teeth our tongues rub
together. It isn't long before my dick is hard and I'm moaning into Robby's
mouth. He pulls down my fly, with our mouths still kissing, and pulls out my
boner to stroke it with his fist as I squirm, clutching his body. Two more
minutes of this and we're almost wrestling, bumping our chests together with
both of us moaning now. Then I'm going, "Un, un, un, I'm gonna cum," so Robby
lets go of my boner and, breathing hard, says, "Leave your boner out, but buckle
you seatbelt now." Sliding over on the seat I'm totally aroused, breathing
deeply, then squeak out, "Okay, Robby," and do what I'm told feeling some of the
submissiveness Ryan brings on me all the time. It's awesome feeling it with
Robby!

Robby's
staring at me as he starts the pickup, saying, "Nobody gets me turned-on like
you do, Dylan." I give him a grin, muttering, "Me too," but thinking, 'It was
Robby who instigated us getting turned-on, not the other way around'. Damn, I
liked his dominant style too. He definitely is getting the knack of doing that
and it seems perfectly natural now too, not just an act like in the old days.
Way to go Robby! As Robby drives out of the parking lot, I say, "You took charge
of us getting turned-on, Robby. It wasn't me." He says, "I took charge of that
situation because I was turned-on by you walking so close to me and, I don't
know, you're so, um, attentive to me lately. Maybe it's Ryan's influence or
something, but you're acting, um, deferential to me, like he does and it just
rocks my world, I love it. It makes me love you even more." That's kind of funny
because he's just reactivated his buddy sex with Travis. Maybe I'm not the only
boy oversexed around here. Ryan and Robby are definitely candidates for
oversexed status, too. At traffic lights during the ride to the drive-in Robby
reaches over and strokes my boner keeping it hard, "I love your dick, Dylan.
It's pretty, like you." Man, between Ryan and Robby I've been getting a lot of
compliments about my looks lately. The only thing that's changed is my hair
style so maybe they think I look especially good with a short burr haircut. Or,
I wonder if they agree I look kinda tough with this haircut? Somebody told me
that once, but I can't remember who it was. I don't consider myself conceited,
but I admit compliments are very nice to hear, and that doesn't make me
different from most people, I would imagine. At the drive-in you can see some
of the poles where I'm told the speakers use to be attached. Some are still
standing so Robby needs to watch for them. Half the big movie screen has
collapsed. When we drove in we noticed a new sign announcing this will be a
Walmart that will open next summer so that'll be an end to lover's lane usage.
There are only a half-dozen cars scattered around the area tonight and from one
of them someone yells. "Cut the fucking lights!" so Robby turns off the
headlights and finds a spot near the screen to park. The closest car to us is
maybe fifty feet. Robby parks, takes off his seatbelt, then reaching over to
grab my boner and stroke it as he slides over next to me. He says, "This is a
good spot because, in the unlikely event a cop car pulls in, there's an exit
behind the dilapidated screen." I run my fingers through his flattop haircut
looking into his eyes. It's startling sometimes how good-looking he is. He's
cute like his brother, but the older Robby gets the more handsome he looks.
Funny that neither his mother or father are especially attractive. Just the
right mix of genes I guess. Robby's much better looking than Ryan, but Ryan's
cute in his own way too and maybe being smallish has something to do with that.
Robby isn't smallish at all, but he is as slim as me. He wins the contest for
most beautiful eyes in our threesome too, but Ryan's eyes are shinier. Robby's
are dark blue with lighter shades of blue around the pupil.

I
murmur, "You're the awesome looking one, Robby, not me." He grins, "As I always
say, you're the only one who thinks I'm better looking than you," and our lips
meet. We're quickly into a hot and sexy make-out with our teeth scrapping
together and our tongues dancing with one another as we kiss with our lips and
run our hands over each other's bodies. Robby's lips are fuller than Ryan's and
his pheromones are almost as sexy. Before I met Ryan, Robby's scent was tops for
sexiness while Chubby's was tops for familiarity; I've know his scent all my
life. It's not as sexy maybe, except for the rare times we have sex together,
which is so rare it almost doesn't count, but when we do it together nobody's
scent turns me on more that my brother's. Some other boys I've been with have a
sexy scent too, but none can compare with Ryan's, Robby's or Chubby's. Closest
is Dodger because he's Robby's brother and has a similar scent. When Robby's
pants at his lap are pushed out by his four inch boner, he gasps, puts the side
of his face next to mine, and grunts in my ear, "Get your pants down now,
Dylan." I rustle on the seat pulling my shorts and underpants down, looking at
Robby. He says, "Grab the dashboard and ease your ass down on my lap." I do that
as Robby pulls his boner through the fly of his shorts and guides the head to my
anus. I feel it there and with a moan sit on it slightly. It spreads the lips of
my anus and then slides inside me with the help of precum. Robby makes a quiet
sighing sound, then, "Take more of it," and I sit down some more, moaning,
"Ooooh, mmmmmm, it feels so good, Robby." He cups my hips with both hands and
pulls me down to sit on his thighs with both of us going, "Aaaaaaah, mmmm,
yeaaaaah, ummmmm," while breathing noisily through our noses. Robby wraps his
arms around my belly and pulls my buttocks tightly against his lap, exhaling a
long breath. "Oh, man, does this feel good." Robby moans quietly as I lean my
back against his chest and chew on both our pieces of chewing gum. Swallowing
the spearmint flavor of my gum-chewing saliva, I take a deep breath absorbing
all the buzzing action inside the walls of my rectum, then ask, "Can you take
our shirts off Robby so I can feel your skin against mine?" He says, "Oh, yeah,
good idea. I got so sexually aroused I had to get my cock up your ass before I
even took my pants down. Lift your arms and I'll get your shirt partially off."
I do that and he pulls my Polo shirt over my head and then I take it the rest of
the way off while Robby's taking his off. His body movements get his cock moving
in my asshole, massaging sensitive points in my rectum and I make a quiet sound of pleasure
blowing air out between closed lips. Laying my back against his chest again,
sighing because his bare skin feels so good against mine. Robby reaches around
with both arms and rubs my nipples between the thumb and forefinger of his hands
and my nipples get hard and tingly. When they're sticking firmly out from my
chest, Robby says, "Ride my boner, Dylan." With a hand on the seat outside
Robby's thighs, I lift up and then sit back down six times with Robby sucking
air between his teeth and me quietly moaning, "Mmmm, mmm, ahhh, mmm," the
sensations in my ass are getting my already hard cock even harder. Robby grunts,
"Ohh, that's so sexy, but stand up now Dylan and grab the dashboard." As I
stand up his boner pulls out of my ass dragging my anus lips outward with me
blinking my eyes real fast and grunting, "Ahh, ahh, oooooh," then the swollen
head of his helmet-headed cock pops out of my ass.

Leaning
over with my hands on the dashboard, the lips of my asshole pucker and relax,
pucker and relax and my shoulders
shudder. Robby stands to struggle out of his shorts, bumping into my buttocks as
he's pulling his shorts down past his knees; his wet boner slides over the back
of my thighs twice. With his pants caught around his ankles Robby pushes his
hot boner up my ass again and fucks me steadily until we're both breathing
noisily while making involuntary sounds of extreme sexual pleasure. Robby goes,
"Oooh, yeah," and gives my ass a hard, loud slap with the palm of his hand,
"Smack!' and then two more as he picks up the speed of his thrusts, with sounds
of the slaps filling the air, "Smack, smack!" The slaps sting and my buttocks
quivers as my cock, hard enough to poke a hole in the dashboard, drools precum.
Robby's smoothly fucking my ass doing little grunts with each thrusts. The
sensations are tantalizing and always amazing to me; how can this feel so good?
The sensations soon overwhelm me and my head goes back as a long whiney moan
slips out of my mouth. Robby picks up the speed with his boner slamming up my
ass now, his groin smacking into my ass cheeks, and then three more hard slaps
on my stinging ass with his hand, "Smack! Smack Smack!". The skin against skin
sounds compete with the snapping slaps on my ass and my moans of pleasure. Oh my
god, the sensations in my rectum and around my anus soon change my moans into
desperate grunts as I tighten my sphincter muscles and begin driving my ass back
into Robby's thrusts. My prostate is pulsating, driving me mad with sexually
erotic pleasure as my climax builds and builds. Robby groans soon turn
to grunts that become more desperate with each thrust of his boner up my ass.
When the sounds become almost whines, he wraps both arms around my belly, lays
against my back and does fast, hard humps and we climax almost together. With my
eyes fluttering and me whimpering I hump my hips and a stream of cum flies from
my cock followed by a sea of pleasure that floods from my cock and ass outward,
quickly encompassing my whole body as I'm doing a long continuous
whine "Ooooooh, ahh, ahh, ahh," Robby does a squeal much like some
of my best squeals and I feel the wetness and the slipperiness in my rectum as
another longer steam of cum shoots from my own cock splattering the windshield.
I can't breath as my orgasm exits my body creating awesome sexual stimulation
that causes shivers to zig zag around my pelvic region as my body shakes.
"Ummmmmm, ooooh," from Robby as he continues slamming his crotch against my ass
with his cum now drooling out of my asshole and down my leg. His crotch smacks
into my ass cheeks making sloppy, wet, sticky sounds. "Oooooh,  fuck,"
moans Robby, as he stops slamming his boner up my ass and totally lays on my
back, his heart pumping and his chest heaving. My eyes are half closed while I
enjoy having my rectum filled with Robby's cock. In a daze I blink my eyes and
Robby lifts his chest off my back and begins humping my asshole again. I lazily
stroke my boner with cum running over my knuckles and more shoulders shudders as
I lay my forehead on the back of my hand that's gripping the dashboard for
support. The after-effects of my climax abate and I feel limp, but contented. "Oh
man, what's better than this?" Robby wants to know, as he stops thrusting
 his boner in my ass, pulls his sloppy cock out and collapses back on the
bench seat of his pickup.

When
I go to sit next to him, he says, "Wait!" grabbing some tissues from the pocket
on the driver's side door. "Sit on these, Dylan," which I do cuddling in next to
him and he gets his arm around the back of my neck pulling me against his
shirtless body and kissing my sweaty forehead. It's a hot night so after hugging
for awhile Robby takes his arm from around my neck and slides over to start the
pickup and get the air conditioner running, while telling me, "My dad had one of
our mechanics charge my air conditioner, or whatever the hell they do to an air
conditioner, one day last week while I was working." The cab soon feels cool so
we get our clothes back on and go back to cuddling and telling each other how
much we love one another. Robby says, "I'm definitely feeling another sexual
experience with you tonight, Dylan. Are you up for that?" I'm like, "With you, always," and Robby
asks, "Do you feel like doing the feet and asshole licking? That's such a turn
on the way you do it." Before I can answer there's a crunching in the gravel
like one or two people are walking near our pickup. I ask, "Do you hear that?"
It's dark and the clouds have rolled in while we were having sex. Then a light
flashes across the pickup's windshield and Robby goes, "What the hell? Was that
a flashlight?" I say, "Lets roll on out of here," but just then the passenger's
door is pulled open right next to us. The high powered flashlight blinds us as a
man's voice says, "I told you it was two guys, Dean." The other guy says, "You
two faggots get out of that truck and we'll show you how queers are treated in
our town," and a strong hand grabs my arm and pulls me out onto the gravel.
Landing on my side I grab the guy's leg and yank up with all my might. The light
beam goes up in the air as the guy goes down backwards. As the moon appears
through a break in the clouds I see the second man, a big guy in his thirties,
swinging his fist that catches me square on the chin as I sit on the gravel. I
find myself on my back with birds chirping in my ears and the drive-in spinning
around me. When the guy pulled me out, Robby went out the driver's door without
saying a word. Everything is happening too fast to make sense of it. The guy I
dumped on the ground is cursing, then says, "Kick that faggot's face in,
George." George kicks me but I'm rolling away from him so he only gets the back
of my leg. Then I hear a 'Clunk' like a bat hitting a watermelon and see Robby
in the moonlight swinging a baseball bat that was rattling around in back of the
pickup when we drove over here. The guy Robby hit in the head with the bat falls
down and is laying motionless six inches from me. The flashlight beam is on
Robby now as the man I tripped is up and screaming curses. Robby, who's face is
dark red with a crazed look in his eyes is raising the bat over his head to hit
the guy who fell unconscious in the head again, so I yell, "NOOO!" Robby looks
at me, then at the man holding the flashlight, who says, "You crazy
motherfucker, I'm calling the police," Robby charges the guy and I hear a
sickening "Crunch" sound, it's exactly like the sound Chubby's steel pipe made
when it connected with Joel's knee a lifetime ago. A loud squealing sound from
the guy who was going to call the cops. Robby stands over the guy as I'm saying,
That's enough, Robby! That's enough." He looks back at me shaking his head with
little fast head movements like he trying to clear it. Then he comes over and
helps me up, breathing fast like he's hyperventilating, "Let's get out of here,
Dylan." I'm still dizzy, but I'm able to get in the pickup. Robby slams the door
shut after me and I hear the bat rattle around in the bed of the pickup, then
Robby's climbing in the driver's side. The pickup was already running when the
two men arrived. The one with the sore knee is still screaming so someone is
sure to investigate. Robby puts the pickup in gear and we leave a spray of
gravel in our wake speeding out of there. Around the movie screen we go and out
the emergency exit with no lights. He turns the lights on when we're on a road
and Robby drives too fast for ten minutes. The drive-in theater is in the town of
Northborough so Robby roars down route 495 to route 9, then drives normally into
Framingham. My head clears during our silent drive, but my jaw aches near both
my ears. I'm playing with my jaw as Robby pulls into the Framingham Mall.
Glancing at my watch I notice it's almost ten o'clock. Where did the time go, ya
know?

Robby
takes a deep breath, then says, "I didn't expect that." I go, "Um, me neither.
Those two haters were surely with girlfriends who will eventually go looking for
them." Robby mutters, "It's so fucking outrageous that there are still bigots
hating on gays. You don't expect that in the northeast where most people are
more open-minded and better educated." I mutter, "There's always gonna be the
exception, Robby. Maybe we better not go to that drive-in again." He's
incredulous, "Maybe? How about we positively never go near Northborough again,
never mind the fucking drive-in." I mutters, "Do you think that guy you knocked
out is seriously hurt?" Robby's still shaking so I slide over and give him a
hug. He mumbles, "I don't know how hurt he is, but he's not dead. When I walked
past him throwing the bat in the back he reached for my leg and I heard him
moaning, while his other hand was feeling at the back of his head." I ask, "Do you
think anyone could identify the pickup?" Robby goes, "I can't imagine how anyone
could accurately describe the pickup or us in the dark, but I'm not testing that
theory by cruising around Nortborough in my pickup. The cops probably frown on
hitting assholes like that guy in the back of his head with a baseball bat." I
say, "Those two didn't order us out of the pickup to share a joke with us. They
thought they were going to do to us weak girlie gay boys something like you did
to them, or maybe worse." Robby mutters, "I shouldn't have hit the guy in the
head though. I should have hit him in the knee like I hit the other one. Dammit,
I saw him give you that roundhouse sucker punch and everything went red in my
head. I lost it, Dylan." I think of him losing it when Dick Veris and Jarod
Mellincamp were kicking my ass early in our freshman year. Robby went crazy and
kicked Veris' ass as I was doing the same to Jarod's ass. Then I had to pull
Robby off Veris before he killed him. There's a slightly dangerous side to
Robby. Veris had been bullying me from the first day at Merrimack, but that
fight put an end to that. Later in the semester Jarod stopped hanging with Veris
and found me to apologize to. Since then Jarod and I became friends, and not another word about the earlier incident.  Funny how some things turn out. I mumble, "It's a dangerous
world at times, Robby. People gotta protect themselves." We get out of the
pickup to have a cigarette and I notice Robby's hands are still shaky. It all
happened so quickly and I was pretty much out for the most part, but knowing
Robby was going to hit that guy in the head again is something I can't get out
of my mind. He rarely loses his temper, but when he does it can be wild. Outside
the pickup we smoke our cigarettes as Robby talks about the, um, incident. He
goes over it until he calms himself down and then he drives me home.

At
the curb below my condo he says, "That sort of ruined our date, Dylan. It was
scary, wasn't it?" I go, "Yeah, but it happened so fast from my perspective,
it's probably much more traumatic for you. You had to save your wimpy gay
boyfriend." He forces a chuckle, muttering,  "Yeah, I'm your hero." Then we
decide to have another cigarette to help calm Robby's nerves so we get out of
the pickup and do that. Out of nowhere a thought comes to me from left field,
"Robby, it's my turn to bring the lunch tomorrow for Chubby, me and Ryan, but I
don't have anything to make it with. Can you drive me to the deli? It's closer
than Stop & Shop." He says, "Ah, yeah, but Travis is working tonight at the
deli, do you mind?" I shrug, "I won't crumble, but I will be jealous seeing him.
I kinda wish he'd take a long walk off a short pier, but it is what it is."
Robby seriously says, "He's no competition for you to worry about, Dylan... none
at all. Take my word of honor for that." I mumble, "Okay, I will. You okay now?"
He shakes his head, "No, I'm still shaky, but I'm sure I didn't do those two
bigots serious damage. I still can't get over them brazenly pulling you out of
the car. Nice job tripping that guy by the way. That gave me time to get the
bat. The heavyset guy I hit on the head looked like real trouble. He was like a
bull." I go, "Yeah? I didn't get a good look at him. My head was still spinning.
The guy I tripped was tall, but lanky and he went over fairly easy." Robby takes
a deep breath, then says, "Can we keep this between us, Dylan?" I go, "Good
idea, but we should warn our gay friends to stay clear of that place. We'll just
say we were harassed 'cause we're gay. A word to the wise, ya know?" He nods his
head agreeing with me and we step on our cigarette butts and get in the pickup.
As he drives us to the deli, Robby says, "The guy I hit in the knee was moving and he tried
to grab my leg so he's going to be alright." Robby's trying to convince himself
of that by saying it a number of times, but he's actually probably correct. I'll
be checking the newspapers and online to see if it's mentioned though, just to
be sure. I can't imagine those two would go to the police because they started
it by pulling me out of the pickup. As he drives Robby continues going over it,
and then we're at the deli. Before getting out of the pickup, I say, "You did
what you had to Robby and I thank you. Don't worry about those two. Fuck 'em!"
He nods his head, "You're right. Okay, lets not talk about it any more." I say,
"You got it, Robby," and I give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. We get out of
the pickup and walk towards the deli.

Inside Travis is the first person I see.

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

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