Date: Thu, 25 Jul 2013 08:37:18 -0700 (PDT)
From: donny mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: NIFTY DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO CHAPTER 21

			DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO

				Chapter 21

			     by Donny Mumford


Ray and I have just dropped off Stringbean, who now has a burr haircut,
compliments of me, and he loves it. So that went well; it was a lot of fun
for me cutting nine inch's of hair from Bean's head, and taking his hair
way down to burr length. Ray also fucked me pretty good before Bean's
haircut, although he talked too much while doing it. He talked too much as
I sucked his cock too, and during our make-out after I sucked his big
cock. So I'm thinking, and hoping, maybe next time he'll need to talk less
and the sexual experience will go up a notch. Not that I didn't have a huge
orgasm as it was, because I did, but it wasn't the thrill I envisioned.
I've been having sex exclusively with Robby and Ryan for a couple of months
now, and I thought the feel of a different cock up my ass might be
exciting. Hell, in my alley-catting days variety added to the sexual thrill
and I'm not saying sex with my twin and my boyfriend isn't hot; no way am I
inferring that, it's awesome. A little variety though might be nice and now
that Robby's getting fucked by Travis, that's opened the door for me a
crack where side-sex is concerned. One side-sex partner is what I'm
allowed, that's if I want to keep the threesome alive, which I do, so I
guess it's going to be Ray.  A surprise choice even to me, but he was handy
so I took my first opportunity after his haircut. I didn't meet his friend
Bean until later. Two haircuts tonight and now I'm going for a second
fuck. Ray suggested we get dessert and I suggested another kind of dessert
and now Ray thinks we've switched places, which happens to me a lot for
some reason. He says he used to beg me for sex and now I begging him. I
say, "I'm not begging for anything, Ray; it's merely a suggestion." He
says, "Well, I'll tell ya, I find that too much of a good thing eventually
detracts from it. I'm a once a night guy, that's how I roll. On the other
hand, I'm flattered, Dylan; flattered you want me to fuck you again so
soon. You can wait till Wednesday though; at least I hope you can. I'll let
you suck me off and you'll get a nice mouthful of my creamy cum. How 'bout
that?"  Dammit, I could go for another fuck right now, but I have my
pride. "Okay, Ray, like I said it was just a suggestion." He goes, "And not
a bad one either, but lets take it slow and let things develop, okay?" I
mumble, "Sure," and Ray drives us to the Dairy Queen in Natick. We don't
run into anyone either of us knows at the Dairy Queen, so we eat out cones
in Ray's car. I ask, "Is this your car, Ray, or your parents?" He says,
"This bomb is for both Elliot and me. He uses it to get to community
college during the school year, but in the summer his boyfriend, Jay,
usually has a car available to him so I get to use this." I nod, then say,
"Oh, and I need to say thanks for dinner and this cone." He says, "Yeah,
you're welcome, but I'm the guy on this date so I need to treat you as the,
um, other person on the date with me; I don't roll with that Dutch treat
crap." Him and Willie are apparently using the same dating manual; they're
the only two I know who pay. Ray goes, "I'm curious; don't ya feel
pussified being the girl when I'm fucking you, or when you're sucking my
cock on your knees?" I give him a disapproving expression, then say, "No, I
don't, Ray, because I'm not a girl and I don't act like one or ever feel
the least bit like one. We're two boys, a girl's got nothing to do with
it. You need to get that concept out of your head." He shrugs, "We see it
differently, that's all. I still don't know how you can rationalize to
yourself you're not filling the female part of sex.  Let's agree to
disagree on this one. I know you're sensitive, like a girl, just
saying... but I don't want to upset you so I'll drop the subject. I'm sorry
if it offended you. Okay?" and he reaches over to punch my arm lightly,
adding, "It's okay, you can disagree with me, you may be my boyfriend, but
you have just as much right to your own opinion as I do." I mutter, "No
problem, Ray," but it pisses me off, all this talk of female position
during sex.

Finished our cones, Ray says, "I gotta drop you off, Dylan, when I'm
driving at night I need to be in by eleven or explain why I'm not and
believe me it's easier to just make the curfew." I go, "Yeah, I get up
early for work in the morning so I need to get home too. And, um, it's been
a nice time tonight, Ray." He says, "Me too, Dylan," and he drives me home
while describing his attributes as a point guard for the basketball
team. He's just as serious about this as he is about everything. Outside my
condo, in the car at the curb, Ray says, "Basically I don't walk a
boyfriend to the door like I do with girlfriends, but for you I will if you
want me to." I laugh, then realize he's serious and say, "Oh, no thanks,
Ray, I'm good." Then, without thinking and from habit being with Ryan and
Robby, I lean my face towards his expecting a goodnight kiss. At first Ray
asks, "What?" and then he gets it and says, "Nope, I don't kiss boyfriends
goodnight either. I'm bisexual, not gay, remember? Sorry, but I can't go
there."  I'm embarrassed and feel foolish, especially because I'm not
interested in a kiss goodnight, not from Ray anyway. I go, "My bad, it's a
gay habit my boyfriend and I got into. No problem." Ray says, "We're new to
being each other's boyfriend, you and me, Dylan. We'll learn what each of
us likes and, like I said, compromise." We bump fists and I get out. When
I'm on the sidewalk, Ray calls out the window, "You're awesome, Dylan. See
you Wednesday," I wave and he drives off. I remember in the past Ray was
conscientious about getting home on time and for some reason I like that he
is. As I'm going up the steps I'm wondering how long I want to participate
in this thing with Ray. I smile to myself remembering Ray saying I'm part
of his posse now and that I'll be hanging out with him and his boys. I'm
afraid I'm going to have to disappoint him there.  The sex was good, not
real special, but good. I wonder if that's how Robby feels about sex with
Travis? Lets see, "I check my watch and see it's ten-thirty and I had a
shower after Ray fucked me, so that's all good. Inside the condo I grab my
cigarettes and head for the balcony to smoke one. Ray will help me cut down
on the cigarettes anyway. Lighting up a Marlboro light I'm trying to
decides how I feel about Ray. Well, I guess I feel the same way about him
I've always felt; he's a nut, but funny with it, and he's sexy. Especially
now that he has whiskers. Damn, if Ryan had whiskers, or Robby, I'd
probably be hooked on one of them and not need the side sex. It's fun
though and hot too. You know what else, so was the haircutting hot,
especially cutting Bean's hair. I actually felt a little of Dodger's
fetish, especially when using the scissors cutting all that long hair off
his head. And, holy shit was there a lot of hair on that kid's head. He was
very blasé about getting it all cut off too. Ray's okay for now, that
goddamn BO of his drives me sexily crazy combined with his natural sexy
scent; it's an aphrodisiac to me for sure. And he's got a really good cock
on him, but where was the thrill I expected. Oh the heck with it, it was
good enough to try again. Let me think; yeah, tomorrow night, Wednesday and
Thursday nights, along with Sunday night, are all up for grabs in our
threesome. Well no, Wednesday night I'll be with Ray, but the other
nights. How's this going to work? Is it the first one who asks me... no
that's probably not right because I was with Robby on Sunday night and he
was with Ryan tonight so by all accounts it should be me and Ryan tomorrow
night. I better wear my dog collar to work tomorrow; Ryan and I split up
after work today on less than great terms.

Stepping on my cigarette butt, I figure I've made all the decisions I need
to for now, so I go inside and get ready for bed. Before going to sleep I
think how I'm not exactly sexually satisfied and how rare that conditions
been for me the past four or five months. So now I guess once a day isn't
enough even though it used to be. That damn Willie started me out with the
three or four fucks a day regiment and between Ryan and Robby it's been a
constant thing for a few months now. I imagine all that sex's has become
kind of like a drug that I'm addicted to. Ha, I'm glad it's sex and not
drugs... think positively is my latest motto. I better make-up with Ryan
tomorrow morning, fer sure. Sleep comes easily and just as mysteriously as
usual. I wake up to the alarm seemingly in no time at all. Seven hours
sleep is plenty for me, especially now that I'm done growing. Laying in bed
a few minutes I try remembering a dream from last night, but come up empty
so I get up and do my bathroom routine, then put on the dog collar and
buckling it tightly, cursing under my breath, then go into the kitchen and
start making coffee. Then think, 'To hell with instant coffee! I'll go up
to Chubby's and make a decent cup of coffee in the Keurig machine'. On the
way upstairs I laugh at myself for splitting the cost of the Krurig and our
car, but rarely every using either. And you know what, I don't care; seeing
Chubby happy is more important to me and the money's already spent so it's
like I never had it. Still, I think I'll bust his balls a little about him
always getting the use of our car and Keurig. Trying the doorknob at the
front door I find it's open, so Chubby must have picked up his Globe that
the delivery man drops off around five o'clock in the morning. Inside I see
through the kitchen that Chubby's on the balcony reading the sports page,
smoking a cigarette, and drinking coffee. He sees motion with his
peripheral vision as I walk towards hum and looks up to give me a big
smile. You can tell when someone is glad to see you; it can't be faked
because it's an instantaneous reaction and it feels good seeing someone
glad you're here. I give him the same smile, and the finger for laughs,
then get a take-out cup and use a K-cup of Paul Newman's medium roast
coffee; it comes out perfect every time. Three sugars and some cream, then
out on the balcony for a hug. Chubby says, "Bro, you get better looking
every day," and I mutter, "Yeah, I know. How you doing?" He says, "Awesome
because MJ came through for me last night again and get this, a girl I met
at Gino's last night, when I was getting some dinner, asked me to a party.
She's from our high school, but we never crossed paths somehow. She likes
my haircut, Dylan, she thinks it's cool." I say, "That's because it is
cool. What's her name, maybe I know her?" He says, "Gina Di Pietro, she's a
hot Italian chick. Great body and cute; my size too." I go, "No, I don't
know her, but I'm glad you're dumping Mary Jo again 'cause she never liked
me and maybe this Italian chick will." He goes, "Oh no, I'm not dumping MJ
because I work for her father and I've been banging her lately like a
screen door in a hurricane." I laugh, "That's a lot of banging. You're not
oversexed are you?" He says, "You've got a lot of nerve asking me that, how
'bout you?" I drop that topic and switch to this one, "Hey, how come I
spilt the cost of our car and the Keurig machine, but only you get to use
them?" He takes a drag from his cigarette with a grin on his lips, then
blows out the smoke saying, "Is it because I'm your younger brother?" I go,
"No, that not it; it's because I'm a pushover and a sucker." He goes,
"You're neither! You're as close to perfect as anyone I know, and generous
too. Generous to a fault." I go, "I try to be, especially where you're
concerned." Chubby says, "And I thank you from the bottom of my heart, big
brother. You enjoy spoiling your little brother, don't ya?" I mutter, "Nice
con job, Chubby." He goes into telling me about his new potential
girlfriend and just as we're finished our coffees, he asks, "Do you want to
drive our car to and from work from now on? That'll give you a chance to
use it and we can take the Keurig down to your condo this morning if you
want, although we agreed I'd have it for a month, and then you'd have it
for six weeks, and then I'd have it until we take it to Merrimack with
us. Remember that agreement?" Hmmm, yeah I do now that he mentioned it. I
go, "I was just busting your chops, Chubby, we'll wait until the end of the
forth week and switch it then. He says, "That this coming Saturday."

Going down the steps to our Jeep, he asks, "What'd you do last night,
Dylan? I thought I saw Robby drive by in his pickup with Ryan when I was on
my way home. I hope it was them anyway because I honked my horn and waved;
if it was someone else I'll feel like a geek." I go, "It was probably
them. I, um, gave a couple of guys haircuts last night, that's about it."
He's like, "Yeah, who were they?" I say, "You don't like him, but it was
Ray Ellis and a friend of his; they both got the cool haircuts you and I
have." Chubby stops on the steps, "Ray Ellis?  Where'd ya run into that
weirdo?" I say, "He's not a weirdo. I saw him at the mall a few days
ago. He asked for a haircut so what am I gonna say, no? He's Elliot's
brother." We continue going down the steps with Chubby muttering, "You're
too nice, Dylan. You never say no to any favor asked of you." I go, "I
know, how's that working out for you?" He scratches his cheek, grinning,
"Pretty good actually, never change, you're perfect the way you are." I
drive us to work and park two cars down from Robby's pickup, but don't see
him or Ryan. Inside the locker room we find a bustling group shouting and
changing into their uniforms. Ryan's there, but he's not bustling. Chubby
says, "I gotta hit the can; coffee goes right through me." Walking up to
Ryan I touch his shoulder and he looks up at me with a smile that almost
matches Chubby's this morning, and I'm giving Ryan my own equally welcoming
smile. We both say, "I just..." then we stop, and I say, "You're in charge,
Ryan, so you say what you want first." He goes, "I want to apologize for
the way I acted yesterday afternoon. It was a shitty day working in the
rain and all, but that's no excuse. I wasn't nice to you and I'm mad at
myself for acting the way I did." I go, "That's almost word for word what I
was going to say to you. I have the dog collar on," as I point to it
unnecessarily. He says, "You don't need to wear it, Dylan," and I'm like,
"I want to because it makes me think of you." He gets behind me, muttering,
"It's your choice, but it's too tight," and he loosens it, adding, "You'll
remember me without strangling yourself." Sweet!  I say, "Thanks, Ryan. Um,
can we see how the furnace is doing this morning," meaning sneak in a
little make-out before work. He checks his watch and says, "We've got eight
minutes, so change quickly."

I do that, throwing my street clothes in my locker, then look around and
saunter to the alcove near the furnace where Ryan's waiting. He say, "Get
over here, cutie," and my arms go around his neck to just hug him with the
side of my face squeezing against his. He rubs my back and then our faces
move and our lips come together, and with a hand behind my head, he gives
me one of his unbelievably sexy kisses using his tongue and lips, moving
his head so our faces rub together as I'm quietly going, "Mmmmm, ooooh,
mmmm," until my boner's poking at his through our cargo shorts. We're both
stupidly hot for each other, which works out well for both of us. The sides
of our faces are together again and I'm rubbing my hands over his body as
he runs his fingers through my hair, both of us breathing hard. He asks,
"Who do you love the best, Dylan?" I mutter, "You, Ryan," and we go into
another insanely long kiss. It's so intense with my nose against his cheek
inhaling his aroma, his hands squeezing my butt cheeks as we both moan with
sexual arousal. I feel it coming on and with a tightening of my stomach
muscles a squirt of cum shoots in my underwear, "Mmmmmmm, oh Ryan, you and
me tonight, right?" He says, "Tonight for sure, but right after work too. I
can't wait." I kiss his lips and say, "I squirted cum in my pants, a big
squirt." His eyes open wide and then he giggles, "You gotta be kidding me,"
as he steps back and we both look down at the cum spot that's already
soaked through my khaki colored shorts. "Oh my God, Dylan, you're so
funny." I say, "It's you, Ryan, you get me so hot," then I get his face
between my hands and kiss all over his face. He says, "Wait a minute," and
holds my face between his hands now as I drop my hands to massage his
ass. Ryan licks up my top lip and on up the front of my nose, then say,
"Sniff in my spit." I stand frozen, inhaling his saliva into my sinuses;
it's so sexy having part of him in me. I swallow the small amount of spit,
my cock throbbing in my pants. He works up a lot of saliva, then does the
lick over both my lips and up the front of my nose with lots of spit, some
of it dripping off my nose before I can inhale it, and as my tongue licks
my lips that are coated in Ryan's spit, my hips buck and a long stream of
cum streaks into my pants and it too quickly soaks through the khaki cargo
shorts. I gasp as my shoulders shudder and my head shakes, then we hug each
other, laughing. at how crazy we are. Ryan looks down at the big wet spot
on the lap of my shorts, and says, "Wait here, ya sexy thing, I'll get a
pair of yesterday's shorts for you to wear." I nod my head like he does,
really fast.  Thirty seconds later he's back and I change right there into
yesterday's shorts after first wiping my underwear with the cum stained
ones getting most of the moisture off. Not enough left in my underwear to
soak through the used cargo shorts I wore yesterday, but it'll be a little
icky in my underwear until the cum dries. Yesterday's shorts are wrinkled
of course, but thankfully they've dried overnight after working in the rain
yesterday. As I'm putting on the shorts Ryan runs the cum stained ones back
to my locker and I meet him at the front door just as Robby's coming out of
the supervisor's meeting, so we're not late. Ryan and I are still the only
ones in our crew that had to do pushups for being late. Ryan looks at me
and we chuckle as Chubby asks, "Are they yesterday's shorts, Dylan?" I go,
"Yep, I spilled stuff on my clean ones." He goes, "You're dragging down the
appearance of our crew, bro. Billy Lee come here, look at this." Lee comes
over and cups my crotch asking, "What happened, did you have an accidental
discharge in your clean shorts?" I push his hand away, muttering, "I
spilled something on them." Then Robby says, "Guys, good morning. Nice to
see your cheery faces. We've had perfect attendance so far this year, so
starting next week my dad will be putting on a barbecue every week for our
crew as a way to say thanks. I've got directions to the house that I'll
pass out next week, but I'm just saying you should keep Wednesday nights
open. Today we have a lot of small jobs so only the ride-on mower, the weed
whackers, rakes, and leaf blowers. Load up, guys."

After the trucks loaded, Ryan and I can't do our sexy nonsense on the ride
to the first job because only one big mower's on the truck and we can see
Lee and Chubby on the other side of it, and they can see us; not well, but
well enough that Ryan and I don't mess around. We just hold hands, hidden
between our thighs, and lean in to whisper to one another, lips to the
other's ear in order to be heard. That turns into tongues in the ear, then
spit in each other's ear, and a childish giggling-fit for both of us. I'm
regressing in age it seems, so maybe it's a good idea for me to become part
of Ray's posse. I'll need to practice yelling, 'I got the shotgun
seat'. Haha. While unloading the equipment at the first job, Lee leans his
body against mine and sticks his finger in my ear, the same one Ryan spit
in, and says, "Yucky! I thought I saw you two tonguing each other's
ears. Does the boss know you're cheating on him?" I go, "Gee, Lee, I don't
know what you're talking about." He chuckles, then mutters, "Yes you do,
and I think it's hot. How 'bout sticking your tongue in my ear something."
I smile, to show I'm joking, and go, "Ewwww, gross!" He laughs, then gooses
my ass before walking off with one of the weed whackers. What to make of
Lee? Chubby comes over, "Dylan, dinner with the moms Thursday night. We'll
do a little front loading after work, then get us a free restaurant
dinner." I go, "Cool! No shots while we're front loading though; just mixed
drinks." He goes, "Oh no, you're doing a couple of shots 'cause my feet
need taking care of after dinner." I go, "I'll be happy to take care of my
little brother's feet because you've got awesome feet." He says, "Yep,
they're just like yours." Chubby and I are doing the leaf blowing all
morning, then weed whacking all afternoon. Of course we're not blowing
leaves with the blowers, it's grass clippings we're blowing off the
sidewalks and such. In the fall it's leaf blowing and grass clippings
blowing. The weed whacking is really more for edging along sidewalks,
driveways, and around shrubbery plots, and not weed whacking at all. None
of this work is brain surgery, but it's definitely labor intensive and very
loud, especially the leaf blowers. For that the Dickers have provided us
with 'Noise-buster' brand, over-the-head safety-earmuffs that reduce loud
noise surprisingly well, but they don't play music. These same earmuffs are
used by some ground personnel working around jet engines, so we're good.

Nothing unusual for the first four smaller jobs, then morning coffee break
where Robby takes me aside and asks, "Are you and Ryan getting together
tonight? I've got work related stuff after baseball practice tonight and
tomorrow. How about you and me Thursday night?" and he rubs my shoulder
giving me sexy eyes. I really want to be with him, but I need to say,
"Robby, I'm really sorry, but Chubby and me have a family dinner Thursday
night with the moms." He says, "Damn this supervisor job; I didn't expect
I'd need to attend the stupid meetings and planning sessions. Dad demands a
lot from guys in management and I never realized that part of it
before. One night a week for us isn't enough, Dylan.  Friday's our night
and how 'bout Sunday night too. That's at least twice a week.  Whaddaya
say?" I go, "Yes, count me in, but this limited access is only going to
last until we go back to college. Then it'll be more; how much more depends
a lot on if our threesome is still going strong, but definitely more sexy
activities between me and you." He pats my shoulder, muttering, "Yeah,
you're right. Did you ask Ryan if he wants in on sharing our apartment this
fall?" I shrug, "I mentioned it and he jumped at the chance, but we'll need
a three bedroom apartment because Chubby isn't going to go with rotating
roommates. I don't know if they even offer three bedroom units." Robby nods
his head, "We'll talk about this some more. I need to get you twins
together for a conference so we're all on the same page." Said like a true
supervisor... haha. I go, "Sure thing, whenever you say, Robby." He goes,
"Come over here with me a second." I follow him behind the truck and he
gets his arm around my neck for a sweet lover's kiss; then another one with
me wrapping my arms around him. We kiss again and Robby says, "I miss being
with you too much, so this Travis thing might have to go; I miss you too
much." Another kiss gets my dick boned-up, but I don't come close to
squirting in my pants; I already did that two hours ago.  Robby says, "You
go in the coffee shop first so it doesn't look like we we're together."
Inside the busy coffee shop, Ryan calls to me, "I got you a coffee and
pastry, Dylan." Walking to the table I join Ryan, Lee, and Chubby. Lee asks
me, "How many boyfriends do you have in your stable anyway?" I say,
"Twelve, why? Do you want to make it thirteen?" Chubby says, "Checkmate and
game goes to Dylan." Lee chuckles, saying, "I'll pass on your offer,
Dylan." Chubby asks us, "What do you suppose people fear more: death or
spiders?" Ryan says, "I hate spiders with a passion, but I fear death
more." Chubby goes, "Well, you're in the minority group then, my friend; on
average more people fear spiders than even death." Lee mumbles, "I can see
that; I hate those ugly fuckers." I ask, "Who does all these surveys?"
Chubby shrugs, "I like to read strange, but true factoids on-line, but I
don't recall seeing the source of the conclusions. For all I know someone
just makes them up." I go, "Like you, for instance?" He says, "Have you
ever proven me wrong?" I go, "No, but I don't try all that hard."  Chubby
asks, "What's the shortest complete sentence in the English language? Lee
guesses, "Fuck?" and Chubby says, "That very well might be an unofficial
one, but the accepted one is 'Go'." I say, "That's kind of a boring one,
Chubby." He says, "How 'bout this? How much pizza, not how many, how much
is eaten in America every fuckin' day?" I shrug, muttering, "A square
mile?" Chubby laughs, "Once again you may be right, but on-line it says,
'Eighteen acres of pizza per day,' and that sounds like a shit load of
pizza to me. Who knows if a square mile equals eighteen acres, I sure
don't." Lee says, "There's six hundred and forty acres in a square mile."
The three of us give him the dead-eye stare. He goes, "I'm good at math, so
sue me." Chubby says, "I'm gonna Google that, you can be sure. Lee, you're
fucking up my factoid gig!" They both chuckle, bumping fist.  Robby says,
"Lets go guys," and we all get up to toss our empty cups and paper plates
in the trash, then troop outside to a nice summer morning, although it's
suppose to get up in the high eighties this afternoon.

The rest of the morning is uneventful and the same for lunch. Then, on the
second job after lunch, Robby and Derek get into a shouting match about
something.  They're over by the truck, Derek just finished the lawn cutting
on the ride-on mower. I'm using the weed whacker on one side of the brick
path with Chubby doing the same on the other side. We're sweaty now as it's
gotten hot. We look up hearing the shouting, but don't know what they're
shouting about. Then Derek stalks past Robby, bumping Robby's shoulder with
his shoulder accidentally on purpose and Robby bangs up against the fender
of the truck. Now a red faced Robby is back screaming at Derek who's
walking away, then he turns and charges Robby, tackling him. They both hit
the driveway hard with Robby on the bottom.  Chubby and I drop our weed
whackers and run towards them. With Derek on top he's giving short, hard
body punches while Robby's swinging his fist wildly connecting Derek's
shoulders and chest without doing much damage. Running hard, three feet
from Derek, I dive at him with Chubby right beside me and Derek flops off
Robby as Chubby and I pummel Derek with swinging fists. Nobody says
anything, but there's plenty of grunting. I get Derek's flailing elbow
under my eye that stuns me as blood oozes down my cheek. Robby's on his
feet in one of his rages, kicking and swinging his fist at Derek. By then
Lee and Ryan have jumped in and in a minute Derek is spread eagled with one
of us holding each of his arms and legs as he lays on the black top. Chubby
has two red smudges on his face from punches and, in addition to the
bleeding cut under my eye it feels like I have a broken rib although I pray
I'm wrong about that. Robby's screaming at Derek again swinging his leg
kicking Derek in the ass. After the second kick I let go off Derek's arm
and get my arms around Robby who apoplectic with rage.  He won't hit me so
I'm able to walk him backwards away from the fray. Derek's lost interest in
fighting and is just laying there with a split lip, breathing deeply with
his chest heaving. He's not giving any resistant at all, but Ryan and
Chubby are sitting on his legs just the same, while Lee loosely holds one
arm against the driveway. I'm talking calmly to Robby, who seems to be
regaining focus. Finally he says, "Thanks, Dylan. Tell them to let that
asshole up; I'm calling dad," as he takes out his cell phone. I walk back,
mumbling, "Robby says to let him up." Lee asks Derek, "You going to be
sensible, Derek?" He sputters, "Fuck all of you pussies. Five against one;
is that your idea of a fair fight?"  Chubby smiles, "Fuck fair fights. I
fight to win. I'd hit you over the head with a fucking hammer if I had
one. Fair fights, my ass." Ryan snickers and I shake my head at him. Don't
poke a bear with a stick, ya know. Derek sits up saying, "How 'bout I look
each of you cub scouts up one by one and kick your ass?"  Chubby goes, "Oh,
please, make me be first, Derek, you're scaring the shit out of me." Lee
says, "Here's another idea Derek, how 'bout the five of us look you up when
we're not working and really let loose on you ass, how 'bout that?"
Derek's outnumbered so he resorts to the old stand by, "Go fuck yourself!"

Robby comes over and says to Derek, "You're fired. Mister Tannum is coming
to collect you, and your father didn't sound pleased with you when I talked
with him. He seemed quite angry." Derek mutters, "Oh fuck!" Mister Tannum
is not only Derek's father, he's also the boss of all the supervisors and
since Robby's the owner's son, mister Tannum may be concerned for his job
and therefore unhappy about his son punching our Robby. It was mister
Tannum who recommended his son for this job. Derek gets up and goes to the
first aid kit for something to stop his lip from bleeding. I ask Robby,
"What happened?" Robby shrugs, and says, "It's been building. Derek only
wants to ride the mower and refuses to do other parts of the job. At first
he was okay with it, but lately he's been surly and when I told him to
collect the bags of grass clipping he told me to go fuck myself, and I
snapped. I shouldn't have lost my temper, but I did, and he exploded like
he'd lost his mind." I don't mention that Robby did pretty much the same
thing, mind-wise. Derek's holding a gauze bandage to his lip, sitting on
the ground.  Robby gets the first aid kit to wash the cut under my eye with
something that stings and I yelp making Chubby grin, muttering, "Don't be a
candy ass, bro, you'll embarrass both of us." I grin at him as Robby puts a
Band-Aid on my cut, saying, "You might need a couple of stitches, Dylan." I
go, "Cool, a little scar will look hot." He grins, muttering, "Thanks for
helping me out and for talking some sense into my head." Then he calls out
his thanks to everyone who helped with Derek, who's strong as a bull. A
pickup pulls in behind the truck then, and we all turn to look. Mister
Tannum gets out and comes right over to Robby, "Rob, I apologize for my
son's behavior. Did you fire him?" Robby says, "Yes sir, I did." Robby's
immediate boss, who's more massive then even Derek, says, "Good for
you. Derek's behavior is an embarrassment and a huge disappointment to me,"
then to all of us, he says, "I apologize to all of you because I know my
son unfortunately won't be a big enough person to apologize for himself."
Then, with an arm around Robby's shoulders, he walks him away to talk about
stuff bosses talk about. I watch them for a bit, then say to the guys,
"Let's finish the lawn, okay?" Lee says, "Good idea," and that's what we do
with Chubby and me sneaking peeks to see if anything develops between Derek
and his father. When mister Tannum is done talking to Robby he goes over to
Derek. I don't know what he said, but Derek hangs his head and gets in the
pickup truck and off they drive. Chubby says to me, "That asshole never
wanted to do this job in the first place. He tried the first week or so,
and then became a slacker."

As us worker bees are putting the equipment on the truck we describe our
injuries which are mostly mild, but we all exaggerate until you'd think we
did hand to hand combat with half a dozen Derek's. Lee says, "To be honest
though, that asshole got me only a couple of times with his fist. It felt
like getting hit with a ninety-eight mile per hour hardball. We're gonna
feel it tomorrow morning more than we do now." Chubby asks, "Billy Lee, how
many times have you been hit by a ninety-eight mile per hour hardball,
dude?" Lee says, "Only six times, Jeffrey, why do you asks?" They do their
comedy routine then as Ryan and I snicker; we all finish loading the truck,
including the bags of grass clippings that Derek refused to do. Robby's on
his cell phone again, then comes over to me and says, "My dad wants me to
take you to the emergency room to have that cut looked at. It's kinda deep,
Dylan." I say, "How about after work, Robby? I don't want to let the crew
down." He takes a deep breath, then mumbles, "Okay, we've only got two more
smallish lawns to do so we'll be done by three o'clock." He looks closely
at my cut, and the first bandage has blood soaked through so Robby tales it
off and puts a big Band-Aid over the cut, and says, "It's mostly stopped
bleeding, not bleeding as badly as it was anyway. Okay, right after work we
go to the emergency room at the hospital." We finish the lawns with Robby
handling the ride-on mower as he takes phone calls of one sort or
another. Back at the locker room I change into street clothes that are very
much like our work clothes, sans the Dickers' company logo, and then I ask
Chubby to gather the dirty uniforms for me because it's my turn to wash
them. I'd already told Ryan I'm going to the emergency room and he told me
Robby asked him to come too. As soon as Robby handles the insurance with
the hospital, using the company's medical coverage for workers, he's
driving right back to make the meeting and then eat dinner. He and Ryan
have baseball practice tonight, after which Robby needs to attend a company
planning session. Robby isn't happy about that because he says it has very
little to do with him and his responsibilities as a supervisor for a
landscaping crew.. a crew that basically cuts lawns. His father want him
involved for training purposes mostly, planning for when Robby graduates
college and will be given a more important position. His dad's a long range
planner, fer sure.

Robby drives me to the hospital with Ryan following in his new Mini Cooper
convertible, which he drives just as cautiously as he drove his mom's small
generic American car. While Robby deals with the insurance, Ryan and I
whisper together in the waiting room. Ryan says, "I hope this doesn't take
long, Dylan, because we have the rest of the afternoon to mess around
together." He looks so cute to me as he's pushing his glasses up his cute
nose. I can't resist hugging around his neck pulling his head over so I can
kiss his still damp-with-sweat forehead. He grins, saying, "Not here,
Dylan," but I kiss him again, whispering, "You smell so good I could eat
you up. I can't resist you." He pushes my arm away, mumbling, "Someone will
see us," and I smile, muttering, "Only these people in the waiting room and
they've already seen us." He blushes looking at no one. I remember being
like that with Willie, but he forced me to get used to it and now I'm glad
he did; but back then, not so much. Ryan whispers, "You're giving me a big
head with the wonderfully complimentary things you say and do.  It's so
flattering and I love the way you love me, but we both agreed not to make a
spectacle of ourselves in public." I ask, "You mean like that lady over
there who's breastfeeding her baby?" He looks over and goes, "Gawd! Exactly
what I'm talking about." I suck on my lips looking at him until he glances
over and we grin at each other. He leans in and whispers, "I love you more
than I would have thought possible, Dylan. Do you think there's any chance
it can be just you and me someday? Can you give me any hope of that?" I
say, "Hell, Ryan, there's always a chance, if it weren't for my love of
Rob, you and me would be exclusive each others already." He said, "Yes, you
said it right; 'exclusively' being the key word. I fantasize about that
sometimes." Then Robby comes over to rub both our heads, leaning down
saying, "You're all set, Dylan. They'll be calling you in a few minutes,"
then to Ryan, "Thanks for giving Dylan a ride back, I hate to impose, but
Chubby had to get to his part-time job. It's seems like I have a full time
and part-time job at work, except I only get paid for one." I say, "Thanks
for taking care of this Rob, do you think I'll need stitches or maybe they
can just use those butterfly adhesive things?" He shrugs, "I don't know,
but if I had to guess I'd say you need stitches. Sorry this happened,
Dylan. I got to go, but I can't tell you how much I love both my twin
boyfriends. I'll see you guys tomorrow." We say goodbye, and Robby jogs out
the door; he's a busy boy alright. Ryan makes a resigned face, muttering,
"It'll never be just you and me; you could never hurt Rob and I wouldn't
want you to. Wish I'd met you before Rob did because we'd have been
attracted to each other back then just like we were when we had lunch
together that first time." I squeeze the back of his neck, wanting to kiss
him and reassure him it'll be okay, except I can't see how it will be any
more than he can. Someone calls, "Dylan Newman." I get up patting Ryan's
shoulder, saying, "Let's concentrate on the here and now, Ryan. The here
and now is pretty damn good." Ryan smiles, saying, "You're right, that's
what we'll do."

Walking over to the nurse who's holding a paper with my name on it, I say,
"That's me," and she says, "Hi, Dylan, I'm nurse Newell. Please follow me."
I mumble, "Hi," while thinking about a needle piercing my skin any number
of times. Looking back I give a salute to Ryan showing false bravado, like
it's no big deal having someone sew my face. Ryan gives me a big grin
because of the salute. The nurse takes me to a cubicle with a curtain
hanging from a rod acting as the door. She pulls back the curtain and I go
in to sit down, as she's telling me, "The doctor will be with you
momentarily." I look around; there's a place to lay down, some medical
stuff, the chair I'm sitting on, and another one, and that's about it.
Five minutes of twiddling my thumbs and then a young doctor comes in,
smiling.  He's a very handsome, coffee-with-extra-cream colored African
American. "Hi, I'm doctor Brown. What happened?" I say, "Someone
accidentally caught me under the eye with his elbow and it split the skin."
The doctor peals off the big Band-Aid and blood trickles down my cheek. I
go, "Oh, I thought the bleeding had stopped." He says, "It's congealed
mostly, but still leaking. Did you accidentally hit this individual back?"
I grin and say, "Why yes I did, I accidentally punched him a few times." He
smiles and says, "Here's the news you don't want to hear: you need sutures
to close the wound. Suturing the cut will reduce the chance of infection
and reduce scarring. I'll apply a topical anesthetic first so you'll only
feel a little pinch when I stitch it up." I go, "I prefer the word sutures,
it doesn't sound as painful as stitching it up." He smiles, saying, "It
won't hurt much. You're got a lot of company, there are eleven million
facial lacerations requiring sutures ever year in the US alone."  I go,
"Hmmm, mostly I'm only interested in one of those cases." He does an easy
laugh, and says, "I'll be right back, please lay on the gurney." I do that
and the doctor's back in a couple minutes with a nurse pushing a cart
containing various items, she says, "Hi, Dylan, I'm going to clean the
wound, then apply something to anesthetize the area." I close my eyes
because I don't want to see the needle and thread. It doesn't hurt when she
cleans the cut, then puts a gel around the cut that soon makes the skin
there feel funny, and then the doctor is obviously sewing the cut closed
and he's right, just dull pin pricks, but I felt them. It doesn't take
long. He says, "All done, it took five stitches which is routine for a one
inch cut like yours. Do you feel okay?" I go, "Yes, I'm fine," and sit up
swinging my legs to hang over the side of the gurney. The doctor pats my
shoulder, saying, "You're a good patient. Nurse Newell will be back with
instructions for cleaning the incision. The sutures are absorbable so it
won't be necessary to have them removed." I say, "Cool, thanks, Doctor
Brown," and he's off to save someone else. I'm feeling macho now with five
stitches closing my massive face laceration. The nurse returns and covers
the sutures with a small gauze bandage, then gives me a pamphlet that
describes the cleaning I need to do, and I'm on my way.

Outside in the waiting room, Ryan gets right up when he sees me and comes
over. "You okay, Dylan?" I say, "I'm very dizzy, Ryan. It was wicked
painful, but the doctor gave me a shot of whiskey and a stick to bite so I
wouldn't scram in pain while he stitched up my deep cut with a fat needle
and twine. I held back my screams of agony so as not to scare the others in
the waiting room. The doctor's given me a fifty/fifty chance of making
it. Hold my hand, I think I'm going to faint." Ryan's laughing, "I'm going
to give you a spanking for lying!" I say, "The doctor made me blow him
too," and it all strikes Ryan as very funny. He's easy to make laugh. I say
weakly, "See if you can find me a wheelchair, I'll never make it to the
car." He's trying to hold his hand over my mouth because he's laughing too
hard and he doesn't want me to say anything else. I put my arm across his
shoulders and help him outside. He catches his breath, and says, "That
wasn't funny," and I go, "I know," and we walk to the car holding hands
without even realizing we're doing it. Inside the Mini, Ryan says, "How was
it really?" I go, "Lets have a cigarette," so we get out and light up and I
tell him the truth. He says, "I like the other version better." He somehow
turns me on and arouses me sexually without even knowing he's doing it, and
without trying to do it; it just happens. Rubbing my firm dick, I inhale
smoke from my cigarette and do the smoke kiss with Ryan. He kisses back
blowing the exhaled smoke I breathed into his mouth out his nose, then he
says, "That's sexy, but not here, Dylan." I go, "Why not, we don't know
anyone here. What's the harm," and from somewhere we here, "Faggots," and
Ryan gives me a look as if that yelling-ignoramus proves something. I
shrug, and say, "Okay, I won't attack you in public, but we're arguing too
much lately." He's real serious now, "Oh no, Dylan, I'm not arguing. I just
think we should be more discrete. If you want to kiss me in public than go
ahead, but I'd rather we be discrete, that's all." I hug him around the
neck, saying, "Well, it's gotta be your responsibility not to be so cute
and sexy then. That will help me be more discrete when showing you how much
I love you and how badly I want to eat you up like cotton candy. How's
that?" He smiles, saying, "Sorry, but it's impossible for me to be any less
cute and sexy than I am right now; I've already pulled way back on those
two things."  I kiss his forehead, muttering, "I'm head over heels for you,
Ryan. I can't help myself." He says, "Good, I'm glad you can't." We smoke
leaning against one another, then I ask, "How you going to fuck me this
afternoon, Ryan?" He says, "I'd like to rip your pants down and fuck you
right here against the Mini, but that probably couldn't be considered
discrete. How do you want me to fuck you?"  I go, "Um, can we play
sub/dom?" He said, "I told you, Dylan, only once a week with that because
you get carried away, and that makes me get carried away." I take a drag,
and as the smoke drifts from my mouth, I say, "How about you give me one of
those spankings with me laying bare-ass naked across your lap; using your
hand to spank me, not that evil paddle. You told me I needed a spanking for
lying so egregiously to you." He says, "You know I've come to hate hurting
you; I did that hurtful stuff in the beginning when I didn't know any other
way." I go, "Who gets a boner spanking me?" He says, "Me, but I get just as
hard a boner kissing you, and it's easier too." I go, "Ryan, being lazy and
argumentative is no way to go through life." He chuckles, "Okay, how about
you kiss my feet and ass again?" I go, "Bingo, we got bingo!" Ryan squeezes
around my waist, saying, "I'm going to love you even when you're gone,
Dylan." I mutter, "I'm not going anywhere, sexy, I'm staying with you and
Rob." "Lets go," he says abruptly, and I think it's because I added, 'and
Rob', but I gotta be honest." I grab him, and say seriously, "It'll work
out somehow, Ryan. I know it will, but for now lets enjoy ourselves fully
without worrying about the future." He says, "You're right, but you have no
idea how much in love with you I am. I told you before, it's scares me
sometime and I'm worried I'll do something stupid." I hug him, saying,
"You're too smart to do something stupid." Then we aren't especially
discrete, and we kiss in the parking lot for maybe three minutes, then
break apart with boners in our shorts, breathing hard and groping
ourselves. "Holy shit, you're hot," I mutter to Ryan. "Not as hot as you,"
he says, then, "Lets get out of here before you have me fucking you on the
grass over there." I go, "Where?" and he chuckles, getting in the Mini.

Trying for light banter now, I say, "I love me some convertible driving;
convertibles are so cool, Ryan. Lets get wild and crazy and crank this baby
up to drive the speed limit." He smiles, then mumbles, "I take a lot of
shit for the way I drive, but what's the hurry? I mean, lets say I'm going
someplace that takes me fifteen minutes to get there driving like I do,
feeling safe and relaxed by taking my time. Compare that to the option of
driving fifteen miles an hour over the speed limit with my heart in my
throat, risking my life weaving in and out of traffic to get were I'm going
one minute earlier; does that make any sense?"I go, "I guess not
granddaddy, but I'm a teenager and I don't give a fuck about logical
thinking, I want to drive fast and enjoy the ride, plus you're going to
lose your teenage membership if you're not more reckless real soon. I'm not
turning you in, but someone is sure to report you sooner or later because
you're making the rest of us look bad." He smirks, muttering, "I'm turning
in my teenager membership next month anyway; it's my twentieth birthday." I
go, "Oh no, me too! This is a disastrous turn of events for both of us."
Ryan's drives onto route 9, which is four lanes in each direction with
traffic moving at sixty to sixty-five miles an hour in a fifty-five mile an
hour speed limit. He's in the merging lane going almost fifty miles an hour
following a little old white-haired lady who's hunched over the steering
wheel. I shout above the traffic noise, "Granny's pulling away from you,
Ryan," and then I can't help but laugh. He laughs too. He's one of the best
natured kids I've ever know and self deprecating too, easily laughing at
himself. I reach over and ruffle his burr haircut with my fingers; he takes
a quick glance at me still chuckling, then his head snaps back to the front
with his eyes glued to the road as cars pull out from behind us and roar by
the first chance they get, some of them flipping Ryan the bird as they go
by. I can't help but smile as he takes a chance, taking a hand from the
steering wheel to quickly push his glasses up his cute nose, and then gets
both hands back on the steering wheel as quickly as he can. I turn on the
radio and search for a rock station, yelling, "It's a law that teens in a
convertible need to have the stereo turned up too loudly, preferably
playing rap music although I can't stand rap so plain rock 'n roll will
do." Ryan asks, "What?" and I smile again because it's hard to have a
conversation in a convertible while on a highway because traffic noise and
wind noise is really loud. You don't notice it in a hardtop with the
windows up and the AC on.

 We make it to the relative calm of route 30 without getting
rear-ended. This road is one lane in each direction, much of which has a
thirty-five per hour speed limit, so conversation is possible. Ryan turns
down the radio and says, "I hate route 9, it's like a NASCAR speedway." I
go, "Oh yeah, it's hell on wheels, fer sure. Twelve people flipped you the
bird flying by you, by the way." He blurts out laughing and I can't help
but laugh too. I say, "I'd like to kiss you right now, Ryan, you're
awesome." He looks over for a second with a shy smile, then with his eyes
on the road again, he says, "Seriously, Dylan, before you and Rob saved me
I hardly ever laughed; I was such a loser and a total nerd. Not an ounce of
self confidence and zero pride in myself. Now I feel like I'm actually
living a wonderful life, and my parents comment on the positive change in
me all the time. Plus, I won you as first prize and I spend a lot of time
being thankful for my recent blessings and can hardly believe I was the way
I was before meeting you two; it's incomprehensible to me that I could have
been like that, but I was." Wiping a tear from my eye, I mumble, "You
brought joy into Rob's and my life too, Ryan; don't ever sell yourself
short again. You're awesome, like I said, and I truly mean that." He nods
his head and wipes his nose with the back of his wrist, then pushes his
glasses up, and mutter, "Thanks, but if I look up 'awesome' in the
dictionary there's a picture of you." Trying to lighten things up again, I
go, "Yeah, I'm aware of that; I look the word up all the time.  I only wish
I had the last haircut you gave me when the picture for the dictionary was
taken; I'd look even cooler if you can believe that." Ryan grins, pulling
onto the street where he lives, muttering, "Hard to believe you could be
cuter or cooler, but it is you, so maybe, ya know?" I look at him thinking,
'I'd like to hug his head and smell him and suck on his ear'. I remember
the first time Rob drove him and me to Ryan's house and how impressed I was
with these big houses. This time is no different as I gawk at each one and
wonder what all these people do for a living to make enough money to buy
these houses.  At his house, Ryan drives around to the side of the house
where the three-car garage is located; he hits a button on the sun visor
causing one of the garage doors to go up smoothly. Driving into the garage,
Ryan says, "My dick is already firmed-up from just knowing it'll be up your
ass after you suck my toes and kiss my ass, hee hee." He parks and
turns-off the Mini, then turns in the seat to look at me. Reaching under my
chin he lifts my head, murmuring, "You're my beautiful slave boy with a dog
collar on and the shorn haircut I gave you; you'll do whatever I say just
like the videos I used to watch wishing I'd be someone's slave boy and now
I've discovered I much prefer being the slave's master." He's saying
everything with a grin on his lips, and humor in his voice.  I know he's
kidding, but it still gets my cock hard. I bite my lips staring into his
eyes. The overhead light in the garage came on when the door went up; it
reflects off his glasses but his blue eyes are so vivid they shine through
the reflected light. He murmurs, "I love you, Dylan Newman," and leans his
head over to mine. Without thinking, I wrap my arms around it and rub my
nose on the side of his forehead, then kiss his forehead a long wet kiss,
moaning quietly, "Mmmmmm," because I love how he smells. We get into a wild
make-out then, still tethered to the seats by the seat belts. Our heads
move tightly together licking and kissing each other's face until his head
bounces off my sutured incision and I let out a loud, "Ow!" The pain
shooting around my head. That thing is very sensitive; my face apparently
is pissed-off about being cut open and then sewed together. Ryan's so sorry
he has tears in his eyes, "Dylan, how stupid of me! I was so involved in
the pleasure of being with you, and kissing and licking your face, I forgot
your injury. I'm so sorry." I mutter, Oh please, Ryan, it's my fault that I
wasn't more careful; I forgot it too."

We undo our seat belts and get out of the car with Ryan saying, "Jesus, it
might be a blessing in disguise that we bumped your boo boo or we might
have tried fucking right in the car. You turn me on crazy-like. God, you're
hot!" I go, "Look who's talking; I almost blew a load in my pants just from
your sexy scent." He grins and says, "Scientifically speaking, I believe an
expert on such matters referred to my scent as pheromones." I chuckle,
"Yeah, I believe you're right about that." Ryan takes my hand, asking
seriously, "Is your cut okay now, Dylan?" I squeeze his thin hand, saying,
"Yeah, of course. It was just a quick, unbelievable stabbing pain, but I'm
good now. I just wish I had that stick the doctor had me clamp my teeth on
so I could have avoided that bellow of pain when you clumsily banged into
my deep cut." He pulls me toward the door that leads from the garage to the
basement, saying, "Yeah, you're a bit of a wimp when it comes to boo boos,
ain't ya?" I go, "Oh yeah! Big time," and we go into a paneled recreation
room and walk towards carpeted steps leading upstairs to the main part of
this big house, with Ryan saying, "We need to show a little more restraint,
don'cha think, Dylan?" I go, "Yeah, it's kinda nuts, but you get me so
sexually aroused, without even meaning to, that I just go crazy over you.
It's embarrassing to lose control like that, but at the same time the
sexual heat is a major rush; just a fantastic feeling with every sensitive
spot in my whole body just humming with pleasurable signals that bombard my
brain." We've started up the steps when Ryan stops, squeezes my hand and
leans into me, exclaiming, "Oh my God, I just got chills down my spine
because you described exactly how I get with you; it's identical to how you
get with me. The description was better than I could come up with, but
everything you said is the same thing you bring out in my body and
brain. This is scary." I go, "No it's not, it's perfect, that's what it is,
and very few things in this world are perfect. You and me meeting with
identical sexual hot spots is like a one in ten million chance, a wicked
long-shot, almost the odds for winning Power Ball I would think." Ryan
goes, "Oh boy, I'm rare," and I say, "Well yeah, you are, but the one in
ten million is us meeting and having the opportunity to let our sexual
tendencies get recognized. They're flourishing now." He nods his head up
and down real fast, going, "I'll say they are," then he pushes his glasses
back up and we continue going up the steps. I go, "The important thing is
that you and me are mature enough to realize we get out of control at
times, and we're working on that, so it's all good. If we just let
ourselves go at each like wild sex maniacs, it'd be a bad thing." Ryan
says, "Like that time in the foyer the first time you were here, right?" I
go, "Exactly! We were wild animals in heat for each other then, but we've
been working to correct that. Not that I don't still have the same heat for
you, because I do, but we control ourselves now."  We come out in the
foyer... oh, so that's were this door leads.

Ryan says, "Is it okay with you if we go up to my bedroom and get naked?"
He's grinning. I grin too, and say, "Gee, I hadn't thought of that
possibility. Good idea." He leans into me again and I put my arm around his
neck, saying, "I need a little taste of you to make sure I'm in the mood to
mess around naked with you," he giggles and I pull his head over and rub my
nose on the side of his forehead again. Then wrap him in my arms, loving
the feel of his smaller tight body, and he puts his arms around me and we
hug as I give the side of his face a long wet kiss while inhaling his
aroma. My dick firms up immediately, of course.  I get my hand under his
chin to raise his face; we do a sweet lover's kiss slowly as a whimper
comes from Ryan's throat, then our tongues meet. It's luscious to hold him,
with him holding me, smelling and tasting him and him returning every
emotion I'm feeling and then some. To know you really like, and really
love, and actually really need someone who feels the same about you is a
wonderful thing. Add sexual heat of the highest degree to that mix and
you've got sexual wildfire with intense heat that clouds your brain and
overrules all other considerations. Our sweet, loving, lover's kiss becomes
a little more intense with both of us making desperate quiet sounds of deep
pleasure as we begin sucking each other's mouth and lips and tongues, then
licking each other face like animals in heat; our hands squeezing and
caressing each other's body while we dry hump our cocks together whining
with desire now. I can feel the heat from Ryan and it increases his scent
as sweat breaks out on our faces; they slide together. Ryan's lapping
across my lips and up the front of my nose as I gasp for breath, inhaling
his saliva and coughing while clinging to him humping my boner against his
bigger one. Ryan gets a hand in the waistband of my cargo shorts and pulls
me, then turns me around and pushes me forward. I grab the banister of the
wide curving stairs, leading to the second floor while Ryan pulls down my
shorts and they fall to my ankles as he pulls his boner through his zipper
and pokes it at my ass, but he hasn't pulled my jockey shorts down.
Grunting, he pulls the back of my jockey shorts down, the front getting
hung-up on my boner. The wet head of his cock slides across my buttocks as
he makes a desperate whimper and hits my anus with the hot, wet head of his
cock, and with a sigh of relief from Ryan he leans into me sliding his
almost eight inches of swollen cock, hard as a flagpole, op my ass with me
going, "Ahhhhhhhh," but not in pain; in intense, absolute, one hundred
percent sexual pleasure that can't be described. It feels so good having
Ryan's cock inside me that tears roll down my cheeks as I lick around my
lips, then I'm frantically stretching the waist band of my underwear until
it rips so I can free my throbbing boner.

Ryan lays on my back with his boner all the way up my ass and his arms
tightly around me, the side of his face against my back as he breaths
rapidly for a few seconds doing short humps up my ass, his cock sliding
easily already. Then with another whimper of desire he grabs my hips and
begins slamming his cock fully up my ass; each a seemingly long, precious
journey of sexual pleasure. The skin on skin "Slap, slap, slap," fills the
high ceiling foyer echoing off the wainscoting.  The 'Slap; slap, slap,"
sounds almost sounding like one long singular slap with the almost violent
speed and force of Ryan's thrusts up my ass. With every thrust Ryan's
grunts and I moan, "Aaaah, ash, aaah, aaah," quick sounds of extreme sexual
pleasure joins the echoes of our flesh colliding. My head goes back as my
climax builds quickly and I ram my ass against each thrust from Ryan.  His
boner's fatter than I've ever felt before and it has my rectum going crazy
with sizzling sensations, my boner sticks straight out from my groin so
tight it might fly off with my first creamy shot of cum that's preparing to
make the journey from my balls to the outside world at the speed of
light. Ryan slams into me yelling, "Shiiiiiit!" as cum floods my rectum. I
pass out for a fraction of a second and all systems shut down, overloaded
with sexually inspired pleasure sensations. My brain says 'fuck it' and
quits functioning for a brief moment in time, then all the sexual
sensations register in my brain at once and my hips hump forward with cum
steaming from my nuts to travel throughout the shaft of my boner and fly in
a straight tight string of cum four feet out before surrendering to gravity
and plopping wetly down on the polished hardwood floor. Another slam into
my ass as Ryan's now clutching desperately around my body with both
arms. He's back to whimpering as he does quick short hard thrust up my ass,
releasing the final spurts of cum from his balls. I'm holding on to the
banister with one hand and stoking my throbbing cock with the other, my
head now hanging below my arm, weak after my enormous first climax
eruption. Short spurts of cum shoot out with me going, "Aaaahh!" as each
one tantalizes the super sensitive head of my cock. My shoulders shudder
and the last indescribable sensation crackle and sizzle in various parts of
my body. My rectum still buzzes with pleasure as spasms and tightly
squeezes the intrusion in my ass, basically making love with Ryan's
cock. My own cock vibrates and the pee slit quivers as Ryan lets out a long
moan of relief and pleasure. I feel him shudder against me and moan as
things quiet down and all the sensors and nerve endings in my body quiet
down, sigh, and smile. My head clears and I recognize Ryan hugging me;
somewhere in the house a telephone is ringing. I thought it was a ringing
in my ears. Somewhere an answering machine, sounding like Ryan, announces,
"We're sorry we missed your call. Please leave a message. Thank you and
have a great day." It's all very surreal as I take a deep breath standing
up feeing dizzy. I turn around, which pulls Ryan's boner from my ass, and I
get him in my arms. He sighs, hugging my back now, the side of his face on
my shoulder. I lay the side of my face on the top of his head; his burr cut
hair is dense, but still soft even though only a little over a half inch
long; it feels nice. I realize I'm able to feel individual recognition of
my senses again, and can now differentiate the way Ryan feels and especial
his wonderfully sexy smell. We're quietly hugging each other for, well I
don't know how long, but after awhile we begin swaying back and forth in
each others arms, like we're dancing to music we somehow both hear in our
heads. It's quite lovely actually.

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

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