Date: Sun, 24 Nov 2013 10:25:01 -0800 (PST)
From: donny mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: Dylan's Summer Vacation 2, Chapter 39 edited 101813

DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO


Chapter  39


By Donny Mumford


After a great night's sleep I wake up with the faint scent of Ray's unique
BO lingering on the sheets. Last night it filled the room and was like an
aphrodisiac to me... that boy has some awesome pheromones. I probably
shouldn't even be calling his sexy scent BO because it's unlike any BO I've
ever smelled before. It's not an offensive odor at all, but I don't know
what else to call it except BO. The posse boys call it BO too, and it is
from Ray's underarms so, ya know, it's BO I guess. Last week his scent got
on my arms when he was fucking me standing up, and at a card game later
that day the posse boys recognized it right away as Ray's BO. I hadn't
showered and Sonny claimed I had BO, but Bean corrected him saying it's
Ray's BO. He could tell because he's been smelling it on Ray for years. Of
course the guys made a fuss over how I got Ray's BO on my arms, but I let
them figure that out for themselves. Something else just occurred to me,
girls obviously don't find Ray's BO offensive either because he always has
a girlfriend. Trouble-maker Sonny, who's been hanging out with the posse
lately, isn't actually a posse member per se, he's sort of auditioning to
be a member. It's kinda interesting how they refer to me and Sonny. Ray
called me a 'junior' posse member last night and sometimes he calls me a
'rookie' posse member. That's also what Mark referred to me as, but then
another time he said I have the same position in the posse that young Sonny
has, so I don't know what status Sonny and I have as far as the posse
goes. I'll ask Ray about that when my suspension is up this Wednesday.
Hmmm, I'll also clear up once and for all who Sonny's brother is.When I
think back closely on the events of last night there were some
uncomfortable moments to deal with in my head. For example, it's sort of
humiliating being suspended from the posse for disciplinary reasons by Ray,
who's almost two years younger than me. And then there was all the
authoritative lecturing I had to listen to from him, which was unpleasant
for me too, but ironically it was also an extremely hot sexual turn-on at
the same time. Much of Ray's and my interaction last night would seem kinda
creepy to most guys my age, and I get that, but for me it's different
because of my submissive fetish. Lying in bed now, I'm thinking about Ray
having the balls to say the things he said to me and just thinking about it
gets my cock moving around in my pajama bottoms. To me it's sexually
stimulating the way Ray confidently laid down the rules I need to
follow. Well, I only need to follow them if I want to be his boyfriend and
continue being a member of his posse. I find I do want those two things so
I agreed to all Ray's laws, which of course, emboldened him further. Three
weeks ago I never would have believed I'd knuckle under to Ray Ellis, of
all people, like I did last night. My fetish puts me in compromising
positions like this at times, but it also gives me lots of sexual
pleasure. Ray's not even aware I have a submissive fetish and he probably
wouldn't know what I was talking about if I told him. Right now I'm groping
my cock and smelling the sheet where Ray transferred a little of his
scent. Mmmmm, it's a sexy scent alright. I know how odd this all is, but
for me it's fun and games. I like it and it's really nobody's business but
my own when you get right down to it.


Yeah, last night was kind of a revelation alright. Ray getting
authoritative with me opened my eyes to how vulnerable I am because of my
fetish. Not that Ray thought he was taking advantage of my situation, he
was simply being himself laying down the law. It's what he's been doing
within his group since childhood and by now it just comes naturally to
him. Of course because of his bossy personality he doesn't have any close
friends outside the group... frankly few guys outside his group would put
up with his shit. Ray, however, does have a lot of friendly acquaintances
through his sport activities. In sports it's skill level that determines
who gets to be top dog. Anyway, Ray wanted to make damn sure I know he's
not the nerdy kid chasing after me that I thought he was in the past. He
told me I'm his boyfriend now and he's the man in our relationship, and he
insists I understand and accept that if we're to move forward. In other
words, he and I have completely switched status positions in my mind and
now I need to do things his way. There's was no hedging when he told me
these things, he's the boss in our relationship just like he is with his
girlfriend, and I don't believe Ray thinks there's much difference between
me and Maryanne in that regard. For the time being I'm willing to overlook
a lot of his eccentricities because I currently find myself sort of
enthralled by him. And, as surprising as that is to me, I recognize that
he's doing a hell of a job as a substitute for Ryan, although in a very
different manner. Who knows how long I'll be intrigued by him, but last
night Ray's act worked really well for me.  I got a bit carried away maybe,
but that's because he was impressing the hell out of me and he wasn't even
trying to. He was just being himself, which he is all the time. He isn't
one way with this person and another way with someone else. Ray's
consistently himself and if someone doesn't like it, too bad because he
isn't changing. Anyway, like I said, I went over the top and told him I'm
in love with him, and I guess at that moment I was, but I'm not feeling it
now so that was a mistake. There's probably no harm in him thinking I love
him, plus, it would be awfully awkward reversing myself so quickly. I'll
leave it like it is for the moment. The most shocking thing I discovered is
how willingly Ray would dump me. When we first became so-called boyfriends
I assumed he was thrilled that I agreed to it, but that doesn't appear to
be the case. He claims it was more a case of him taking me on as his
boyfriend on a trial basis to see if I made the grade. It's humbling for
me, to say the least. Especially because I initially agreed to this as a
lark, and a temporary lark at that. Not taking it seriously at all, I
figured I'd go along with Ray until I can feel out Seth about some buddy
sex. As it turned out Seth was more than willing, but when we had sex
together he wasn't nearly as hot as I expected he'd be. It's Ray who turns
out to be the extremely hot one. Ray often points out to me that he's my
man, and the funny part is he's right about that. I'm not inferring I'm the
least bit girlish, but I find his manliness is turning me on. His whiskers
and chest hair, and of course his manly scent, it's all new and excitingly
sexy to me because I'm used to boyish boyfriends who are much like
myself. I'm not sure if he's a temporary infatuation of mine, or if it'll
be a long-term relationship... and who knows where that could end up. The
long and the short of it is, I intended to use Ray for some convenient
buddy sex until something better came along, and he totally turned the
tables on me. That's happened to me before, so you'd think I'd learn by now
that things have a way of doubling back on me. Willie's the only person
who's ever done the authority bit as well as Ray did it last night and now
it's me who feels lucky Ray's willing to keep me as his boyfriend. I mean,
without Ray, and with Ryan in Georgia, I'd be screwed... or more
accurately, I wouldn't be getting screwed as much as I need to be. Ray's
sex is uber hot and his authoritative manner is great for my submissive
fetish so I gotta do whatever I can to make sure I don't get dumped. He's
uniquely different from any of my boyfriends in the past, although there
are parts of all my past and current boyfriends in Ray, plus he has
characteristics none of the others possess. I'm done thinking about Ray and
me for now though because it's a weird situation, and it's giving me a
freaking headache thinking about it.


Putting Ray out of my mind, I get dressed and text Chubby and Robby about
Sunday brunch. Robby texts back that he can't make it this Sunday because
his parents asked him to go to the Pancake House for breakfast and he
doesn't have the heart to turn them down. They get a little maudlin about
Dodger being in the Army and now they're afraid he'll end up making a
career of it. Neither Robby nor I believe that's what Dodger has in mind,
but parents need stuff to agonize over.  Chubby, on the other hand, texted
me to meet him at the Jeep in fifteen minutes so we can shop for the food
we need to make brunch. I meet him and after our hug hello, I drive us to
Stop & Shop. On the way Chubby says, "I had a hot date with Gina last
night. She didn't go all the way, but we got close. I got some good tit
action and had my hand down her panties. She's sexier than Mary Jo." I
mutter, "TMI, bro. Don't gross me out with details of your sex life." He
laughs, "You have ten times more sex than me." I say, "You're way wrong,
it's a gross exaggeration, Chubby." He's like, "Hey, Gina's brother told me
a joke last night. It's about this guy, Jim, who goes to pick up his date,
but she's not ready of course, so Jim sits in the living room to wait for
her and the girl's mother comes in to make small talk with him. Jim's got
gas bad though, and he really needs to fart to relieve the pressure. He
figures since the family's dog is next to him on the couch he can let out
some gas and the mom will think it's the dog who's farting. Jim's in an
emergency situation here so he lets out a rather quiet, but very smelly
fart and then looks at the dog and holds his nose. The mom says, 'Spot get
down from there!' It encourages Jim that the mom is blaming Spot so he
farts again, louder this time. Same thing, 'Spot, get down from there!' The
dog's sniffing around but he's basically oblivious, so Jim does two more
farts frowning and looking at the dog. The mom gets up and grabs Spot's
collar, saying, 'Goddammit, Spot, get down from there before he shits all
over you'." I chuckle and say, "I've never heard a joke about farting that
wasn't funny." Chubby goes, "So true, bro. And get this, Gina and I were in
the Ninety-Nine for a late snack last night. We're sitting next to this
table of crotchety old women. Their waiter serves their food orders and
then ten minutes later comes back and asks the old ladies , 'Is
anythingalright?' I swear to God I almost spit out what I was chewing. The
waiter was smiling, but I guess he's used to old ladies being fussy about
their food." I go, "Oh, I thought you were going to tell me the old ladies
were farting up a storm. Anyway, that waiter's a hot shit, but he's
probably gonna get his ass fired sooner or later."


We park and walk to the grocery store as Chubby asks me, "What animal's
sound, you know like a dog barking, doesn't ever echo?" I glance at him,
muttering, "You're not going to torture me with factoids this morning are
you?" He goes, "No, not at all, but do you know which animal makes their
sound, let's say in a canyon, but gets no echo?" I chuckle because of
course he's going to have me shred my brain trying to guess his stupid
factoids. I say, "Okay, I'll play along. How 'bout a laughing hyena?" We're
through the automatic door into Stop and Shop now. Chubby says, "Ooh, you
are so fucking close with your guess, but it's actually a duck's quack that
doesn't echo, and no one knows why." I ask, "What's a duck doing in a
canyon?" He fakes being serious and goes, "It could happen," and I mutter,
"I can't imagine how." He asks, "If you yell in a canyon, how long would it
take for you to hear the echo?" I go, "I don't know. Instantly?" He shakes
his head mumbling, "Instantly, are you kidding? The delay between the sound
and then hearing the echo depends on the distance to the canyon wall from
you, and then back, divided by the speed of light." I have to laugh, "You
know more useless information than anybody I've ever heard of." I get a
basket to carry the food in, as Chubby says, "Oh yeah, how about the
Guinness guy with his book of world records? He knows more useless stuff
than me." I say, "Ha, I got you there. That book was started like sixty
years ago by the director of Guinness breweries, not by some guy named
Guinness." Chubby goes, "I knew that. What should we make for brunch
today?" I say, "How about a quiche? We haven't done that for awhile." He's
like, "Yum, but it's a pain in the ass dealing with the dough." I go,
"We'll do a short cut and get a frozen pie crust that comes with it's own
disposable aluminum pie pan. That way we just mix the ingredients and pour
it in the pie crust and throw the pan out when we've eaten the quiche."
Chubby's impressed, "That is a brilliant idea, brother, although I can see
you're not fully committed to the 'greening' concept. What kind of quiche?"
We buy thick sliced bacon, sour cream, fresh mushrooms, smoked ham,
Monterey Jack cheese, shredded cheddar cheese , eggs, and a pint of half
and half. We have onion and butter at home. Chubby whistles, "Wow,
everybody in the pool for this quiche," and I borrow Ray's favorite phrase,
"Yep, that's how I roll, little brother." We pick up fresh fruit that we'll
cut up and oranges for fresh squeezed orange juice, which is about fifty
times better than frozen or the stuff that comes in bottles or
boxes. Chubby says, "We need sweet rolls, too." He always wants the
cinnamon buns to satisfy his sweet tooth. Chubby says, "I also need lunch
meat for tomorrow's lunch." We get the sweet roll dough from the
refrigerated section, then go to the deli section and Chubby takes a
number. As we wait for our turn he tells me, "I'm doing ham and cheese
sandwiches on rye for our lunch. I've already bought the cupcakes we like
and a can of potato sticks. What do you want to drink?" I go, "Potato
sticks? What, are we nine years old?" He's indignant, "Potato sticks are
awesome and we always get potato chips so this will be a nice change, plus
the sticks are saltier." It's Chubby's turn at the deli counter, he tells
the guy, "A half pound of Virginia baked ham, sliced very thin, please."
The grumpy guy behind the counter slices a piece and holds it up, asking,
"How's this?" Chubby says, "A little thinner if you don't mind." The man
works the meat slicer as Chubby gives me a look of disapproval. After
weighing and wrapping up the sliced ham, its price sticker is used to seal
the plastic bag, then Grumpy asks, "What else?" With a big phony smile,
Chubby enthusiastically goes, "That'll be all today. Thank you so much," as
he takes the lunch meat from the man.


We walk away with me asking, "What about the cheese?" Chubby mutters, "I'll
get the cheese when I buy the ham at a real delicatessen." I go, "Huh?"
Chubby explains, "That fucker sliced the meat thick. He showed me a fairly
thin slice and I asked nicely for thinner slices so he must have gotten
pissed-off and made the slices much thicker, not thinner." We're in the
canned goods aisle. I ask, "What do we need here?" Chubby chuckles, "We
need a resting place for this thickly sliced ham. I counted the number of
slices as he worked the meat slicing so I know they're thick. Ten slices
for a half pound is not thin. There should be twice as many slices at
least. I hate thick cut cold cuts and that bastard sliced it thick to spite
me. He looks up and down the aisle then reaches way back behind the canned
peas and places the wrapped meat there out of sight, then picks up a can of
peas, going, "Hee hee, in case they got cameras it'll look like I'm getting
canned peas. I'll carry this can as a decoy and leave it at the
register. Never eat canned peas, by the way, they're gray and mushy." I
mutter, "You don't need to worry about that, me and peas do not mix." What
a character Chubby is, he's always full of energy and mischief. As we pass
someone's shopping cart, Chubby puts the can of peas in there, muttering,
"Better than carrying it to the register." I just shake my head chuckling
as a man with three kids, who are running all over the place, looks at a
list as he's asking into his cell phone, "What the hell's Adobo seasoning,
Jean?" Sundays suck at Stop and Shop because wives send their hen-pecked
husbands to do the grocery shopping with the kids. Gives her an hour's
worth of peace, I suppose. Lots of men shop on Sundays and they don't have
a clue what they're doing, bumbling around the store while their kids run
screeching up and down the aisles picking out sweet cereals and bags of
candy that the father makes them take back. It's a madhouse on
Sundays. Chubby and me get in the check out line as he's telling me,
"Someone will eventually smell the ham as it turns rotten. They'll complain
to the manager, who I'm actually doing a favor by pointing out an area he
may want to look into. Ya know, he's gotta think, 'Why the fuck are people
putting cold cuts in with the gray peas?' Ya know..." I laugh, then go,
"You're probably the only person in the world who would do that. Wouldn't
it be more effective to just show the manager the fat slices of ham and
explain you asked the guy for thin slices?" He's like, "No, it wouldn't."
The man in front of us is busy taking candy and gum out of his kids hands
muttering under his breath. Grocery stores all have candy and chewing gum
displays at 'kid level' knowing the kids will eventually win out and get to
keep some of what they pick out. That's what happens to the man in front of
us. He finally compromises and lets each kid have one candy bar instead of
none, like he initially told them. At least he's ready to pay for his
groceries when everything has ben rung up. Women stand there looking at the
cash register clerk, like paying for the groceries never enters their
minds. Then it's, 'Oh,' and they start going through their purse looking
for their wallet and then eventually pay with a credit card. One time I was
stuck behind a woman whose credit card was rejected and she finally wrote a
check for her groceries. You could take out a mortgage faster than the time
she took to for her groceries.


Chubby and I split the cost of the food and then we're outside. It's sunny
and hot for the softball game this afternoon. I ask Chubby if he wants to
join Robby and me, but he says, "Yeah, I'd like to, but Mary Jo's father
bought four bleacher seat tickets at Fenway and I gotta go with them and
Mary Jo to see the Red Sox lose again." I say, "You pay a mighty big price
to get laid once in awhile, don't ya?" He mumbles, "Yeah, I do." It's
earlier than we normally have brunch, but the softball game is supposed to
start at noon. In his condo Chubby makes us coffees as I preheat the oven
and get the groceries out of the bags. Then he squeezes the oranges while I
put the pie crust in the oven, then fry the bacon and cut up the ham. When
he's done with the orange juice, Chubby dices some onion and beats five
eggs, then I chop up the bacon while the mushrooms and onion sauté in a
pan. Tris comes out in her bathrobe, saying ,"Good morning you two handsome
chefs." Chubby says, "We're cooks, mom, not chefs." She asks, "What's the
difference?" and Chubby goes, "I don't know, but there must be a difference
or why have two words for people who prepare food?" The pie crust comes out
and the cinnamon buns go in and soon the kitchen smells delicious. My mom
arrives and kisses everybody while spreading her cheery smile around. She
turns on the radio to 92.5 FM and the strange sounds of jazz assault our
senses as we all exchange edited versions of what we did last night. While
that chatter goes on Chubby and I mix all the ingredients together for the
quiche, going heavy on the various cheeses. The quiche mixture goes in the
half cooked pie crust and then into the oven and out come the cinnamon
buns. We all have another coffee with our conversation as we eat the sweet
rolls. Lots of laughing going on when Chubby's telling his self-deprecating
funny dating experiences with Gina and Mary Jo. When he's done recounting
his funnier dating moments, my mom asks, "Are you boys paying attention to
the presidential campaigning?" Chubby says, "Of course, we're good
citizens, whaddaya you think? Who's running for president, by the way?"
Then he asks if they know what animal's sound can't be heard as an
echo. The moms are much more impressed with that trivia than I was. It's
time to take the quiche out and let it set. Chubby pours the orange juice
and passes out bowls of fresh fruit. All in all it's an awesome
brunch. Chubby and I eat most of the quiche as the moms pick at their
slivers of quiche raving about how delicious it is. Chubby says, "We
shoulda had some hash brown potatoes to go with the quiche." The moms clean
up the kitchen while Chubby and me get ready for our afternoon activities.


I find my baseball glove and the posse baseball cap, brush my teeth and I'm
ready to go. Then Robby calls my cell phone telling me he's on his way so I
walk down the steps to the curb. As I'm waiting I'm wondering about Robby
getting along with the posse boys today. He got along good with the guys
when we went bowling recently and he seemed to actually like Bean, Dawg,
and Devon. Fingers crossed that he gets along okay with Ray, too. Ray and
Robby both know I'm their boyfriend, of course, and all that goes with
that, so it's a bit of a hairy situation. And then there's Sonny. He'll be
at the game and Ray's gonna be watching to see if I lead Sonny on, which
I've never done, but Sonny can be a problem just the same. Robby drives up
right on time and when I get in the pickup he does the now familiar finger
wiggle meaning I should slide over on the seat to him. He gives me a big
hug and a sweet kiss, mumbling, "I can't wait for our date tonight." It's a
damn good thing I got suspended by Ray or he and I would also have had a
date tonight, and what the fuck would I do then? It's not all peaches and
cream having two hot boyfriends, ya know. Robby's always going to be my
number one choice though, and that's for certain. I kiss him back, then
kiss him again, saying, "You taste good, boyfriend. I wish we had time for
you to do you know what," and he rubs my head, knocking off my hat, saying,
"Tonight for sure." Then, "What's with that hat?" I go, "I don't know. One
of the posse boys gave it to me, I guess it's an official posse hat." Robby
says, "It's cool, hope they have one for me." Well, this is working out
good so far. Robby's being a good sport about all this posse shit.  And
again I think, 'Thank God for that bowling experience. Robby warmed up to
the posse boys because they were a big factor in Robby's team winning. He's
very competitive, like Ray in that regard, and winning helped to put
positive vibes for guys in Robby's mind.' He asks, "How was the brunch I
missed?" I tell him about it as Robby drives, and then I go, "Ya know
you're our ringer today, Robby. The guys think with you on our team we
can't lose." He mutters, "No pressure on me, huh? Jesus!" At the school
where we're playing the game we see most of the players for both teams
throwing softballs around on the diamond and in the outfield with lots of
trash talking going on between the teams. The other team is made up of
older guys, and some big ones too. Robby and I get out of the pickup and
Ray jogs right over to greet us. "Glad you could make it, Dickers," then
Ray and me do the posse greeting of a fist bump and a one arm hug with Ray
giving me a kiss on the lips. I blush as Robby says, "Call me Rob,
'Dickers' sounds a little harsh for a teammate." Ray bumps fist with Robby,
but without the hug and kiss he gave me. He says, "Rob it is. I got a hat
for you if you want it." Robby says, "Hey, that's nice of you, Ray. Yeah, I
was telling our boyfriend here that the hat's cool." Jeez, 'our boyfriend'?
Robby's being awesome with Ray and I'm proud of him. We walk over to a big
duffle bag of bats and balls where Ray gets a new hat for Robby. It's still
in it's plastic wrapper. Robby bends the bill of the cap so it's curved,
it'd look like a farmer's hat otherwise. He puts it on and grins,
muttering, "Cool," and he and Ray bump fists again. Things are starting out
really good!


We join the others on the diamond to toss the ball around and one by one I
participate in the posse's greeting with all the guys, getting special hugs
from Mark and Sonny. Everyone acknowledges Robby with a fist bump telling
him thanks for playing on our team today. They all make a fuss over him and
Robby's eating it up. Then Ray calls us together, and says, "We all need to
thank Rob for helping us win today and we will win, won't we?" Everyone
yells, "Hell yeah," and Ray tells each of us what position we'll be
playing. Robby's at short with me at second base and Ray in center
field. The others get their positions without anyone arguing with Ray about
where they're playing. What Ray says goes unchallenged, except for Robby,
who says to Ray, "Shouldn't my man Bean be at first? He's taller than Red
here and a better target for us infielders." Sonny says, "I'm a better
fielder than Bean!" Ray goes, "You switch with Bean and play third base,
Sonny. Rob's right, and since you're a better fielder, third base is a
better position for you. Bean can catch the ball as well as anyone which is
what we need at first base. How about the rest of the position players,
Rob?" Robby says, "I'll go along with your judgement on that, Ray. You know
your players, I don't. I just like a big target at first." Could this be
going any fucking better? I'm proud of both Ray and Robby. The game starts
with the other team up at bat first. Two hits with one run scored and no
outs before Robby makes a spectacular backhanded stop of a ground ball
drilled to his left. He tags the runner going by him from second base and
fires to first base for a double play. The next guy up flies out to Devon
in right field. Everyone congratulates Robby who acts as if it was no big
deal, but that ball would have gotten past Ray if he were playing shortstop
like he did last week and another run would have scored, still with no
outs. Robby's double play cut off a big inning. Ray hits leadoff and
singles. I hit second and fly out to centerfield. Dawg hits third and beats
out an infield hit. Men on first and second for Robby, who's in the cleanup
spot. He takes a called strike then fouls one off way down the left field
line, and hits the third pitch way the fuck over the center-fielder's head
for an easy home run. Everyone mobs Robby after he's jogged around the
bases. The whole game went like that. In the fourth inning we're up ten
runs to five and Robby hits another home run with two guys on base. One of
the older guys on the other team yells, "Who the fuck's your ringer, Ray?"
The posse boys are laughing and yelling happily, patting Robby on the back
and it just couldn't have gone better. It was perfect. We win twenty to
twelve and then head for the cars to drive to Kent Park where both teams
will share a couple of cases of beer. I'm basking in Robby's success almost
as much as Robby is. He's the hero as we talk excitedly about the
highlights of the game. Robby's claiming, "You guys didn't need me. You'd
have beat those older guys yourselves." No one believes that though and
they all say that to Robby. He's agreed to play next week and so what could
have been a touchy situation between Ray and Robby turns out to be awesome.


At the park there's lots of good natured chirping between the teams and
they set up a rematch date three Sundays from today. Same stakes, two cases
of beer. There are eighteen guys so that means only two or three beers for
each guy. It's not a drunk-fest. I have two beers myself and that's all I
want, but Robby has three as he accepts compliments from guys on both
teams. Near the end Ray calls the posse together and says, "Okay, listen up
guys. Awesome win, but I need to announce a bit of a downer now. I've
suspended Dylan until Wednesday, basically for lying to me about him
leading Sonny on." Sonny goes, "He didn't lead me on, Ray, who told you
that?" Ray says, "I'm convinced he did, Sonny, whether you think so or
not." Robby's frowning like, 'What the fuck is this?' and I'm blushing,
embarrassed by the whole thing, especially with Robby here. Surprisingly
Mark isn't gloating. He pats my back, saying, "Sorry to hear about this,
Dylan, I know how it feels to be suspended. It's only three days though."
Ray says, "Everybody say goodbye to Dylan, and then you need to take off,
Dylan." One by one each guy does the fist bump and hug as each guy says
words of encouragement to me. Robby has this expression of disbelief on his
face, but he doesn't say anything. Then the guys do the fist bump and hug
with Robby who reciprocates and, with much praise for Robby from the guys,
Robby and I walk to his pickup. Robby says, "I couldn't believe that. Ray's
a prick doing that in front of everybody." I say, "Ah, it just the way
those guys have done things since they were eight years old. They're like a
fraternity. Yeah, it was embarrassing for me, but basically just because
you witnessed it. Other than that I don't really give a shit. I probably
wouldn't see any of them during the next three days anyway. More than
anything else it's just to prove to the other guys that Ray doesn't show
favorites." Robby goes, "It's still weird. And you're, um, doing it with
Ray, are you?" I say, "You told me we don't mention side-sex, Robby." He
mutters, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Okay forget it, but did you actually lead the
redheaded kid on?" I say, "Absolutely not! He's got a crush on me. He
claims he's bisexual like Ray." Robby says, "He's a cute kid; great ass
too." I smirk, muttering, "I didn't notice. He's only seventeen anyway." At
the pickup Robby asks, "Are all those guys eighteen except Sonny?" I go,
"Yeah, and we're nineteen," without mentioning that in nine months or so
we'll be twenty and they'll still be eighteen. Most of them turned eighteen
the last month or so. We'll turn twenty by the end of the summer.


As we're riding home I steer the subject back to the game, highlighting
Robby's star-of-the-game status. He tries being modest, but he's eating it
up and I'm feeling good because it was almost a perfect day. Robby had a
good time and so did I. I've no more concerns about hooking up with Ray and
the posse, not like I initially had. Robby still considers Ray a flake, and
in many ways he is, but where sports are concerned he and Robby have
something in common. Because of that, Ray's status rises in Robby's mind
to, 'He's okay, I guess', which is a big move up from, 'Total flake'. And I
was also pleased that no one on either team mentioned Robby and me being
gay. The older guys on the other team probably didn't know, but the posse
boys do and they never brought it up. Very mature of them I thought,
although if it was mentioned Ray would be implicated too and the posse boys
know better than to do that. Robby drops me off at my condo after a kiss
goodbye.  He'll pick me up for our date around seven. I need a shower so I
do that first, and after that I kill time watching a repeat of last year's
football game between the Pats and the Jets on the NFL network, then text
Chubby about dinner and we decide on pizza. Since pizza's one of the more
important of the food groups we always feel good about eating it. At
college we had pizza three or four times a week and it rarely disappoints,
but it's best if eaten right from the oven at the pizza parlor. Delivered
pizza has a soggy crust that we put in the oven to crisp-up, but that's too
much trouble so we're going out for pizza. The moms are having dinner out,
double dating with their twin boyfriends, although probably not pizza. I
meet Chubby at the Jeep and we head downtown for the Framingham pizza shop
for thin crust pizza. During the ride Chubby tells me he's not going out
tonight. Friday's 4th of July cookout where he drank too many shots of
whiskey, and a late night with Gina last night, plus a long day with Mary
Jo and her parents at Fenway Park has caught up with him and he says he
needs a quiet night, especially with work looming early tomorrow morning.


At the busy pizza parlor we order an extra large cheese pizza, skipping
other toppings this time. After placing our order Chubby says to the clerk,
a pimply-faced teen with 'Dennis' on his name tag, "You're obviously an
expert on pizzas so I got a question you can help me with. Why are pizza
shops called pizza parlors?" Not knowing Chubby, the kid mistakenly assumes
this is a serious question. Instead of saying, 'How the fuck would I know?
I'm just a seventeen year old pimply-faced kid working for minimum wage to
get some spending money', he says, "Hmmm, I didn't know they were called
parlors. In days gone by a parlor was traditionally known as a room used
primarily for conversation and reception of guests. I've no idea how that
relates to pizza shops, which officially are known as a pizzerias." Chubby
glances at me, and says, "I got no comeback to that, I got nothing." The
kid looks confused, so I say to him, "My brother was trying to be a
wise-ass.  Thanks for the information." Then Dennis once again proves my
contention that almost every teen boy looks cute when he grins. He gives me
a cute-ass grin showing very white teeth with a slight gap between the top
middle teeth and pink gums, a very clean look. He says, "Oh, must be a pain
in the ass for you growing up with him for a brother, huh?" Checking his
face again I conclude that if this kid would clear-up his acne he would be
cute with or without his grin. I hold my fist up and Dennis bumps it with
his, as I mutter, "He usually has a funny comeback, but you stumped him."
Chubby tells Dennis, "I'll try to think of something while the pizza's
cooking." Another grin from Dennis, and then a muttered, "I can hardly wait
to hear what it is." We walk away with Chubby mumbling, "Who'da thought
Dennis would be a hot shit?" I say, "Pimples don't automatically mean the
kid's a stiff. You can't tell a book by it's cover." We get drinks and then
sit at a small table for two. Chubby goes, "Sometimes you definitely can
tell a book by its cover and the same for people." I think of Dawg and how
his appearance is completely opposite of his personality. He looks like a
biker on steroids, but is actually a soft-spoken, fairly shy kid. I go,
"Yeah, but you can't be sure which is which, so it's best not to assume."


Our number is called and Chubby says, "You get it, bro, I can't take being
humiliated by Dennis again." Chuckling, I get the pizza at the pick-up
window from an older guy with 'Manager' on his name tag. Muttering,
"Thanks, manager," I bring the steaming pizza to our table and we both take
a slice. It's the kind of pizza you can pick up at the crust and the tip
doesn't collapse down. Good crust! Chubby starts to say something, but this
handsome kid comes up behind him and covers Chubby's eyes with his hands,
saying, "I got a requestion for ya, fly." Chubby reaches up to grab the
kid's wrist, saying, "This has got to be, Anthony, ya wanksta. Nobody else
has wrists this thin." Anthony takes his hands away from Chubby's eyes,
smiling. Chubby asks, "What's your requestion, sick?" Then, without asking
if it's being used by someone, Anthony pulls an empty chair over from the
table for four next to ours where three people are eating pizza. He sits in
it backwards, saying, "Can ya lend me some cheddar so I can have a crunk
time tonight?" Chubby asks, "I don't know... how much are ya talking
about?" Then to me, "This is Gina's brother, Anthony. Anthony, meet my
brother, Dylan." We bump fist with Anthony saying to me, "Your brother's H
fly, dude. Wassup?" I go, "Huh, what?" Both Chubby and Anthony
laugh. Chubby goes, "I told ya Gina's brother has his own language. He's
teaching me to talk teen slang and it's off the chain. That means 'cool'."
I go, "Oh, what's wanksta mean?" Chubby says, "A kid who acts like a thug
or gangster, but who's never done anything a thug or gangster does."
Anthony says, "That's not me, dude, I'm fly. Hey, could ya handle a double
sawbuck, Jeff? I get paid tomorrow and I'll get it back to you then."
Apparently 'cheddar' means money and how the fuck you get money out of
'cheddar' is over my head. I guess a 'requestion' is a request and a
question combined, and I can see that one okay, but why call Chubby 'sick'?
So I ask, and Anthony says, "Sick now means cool, fly." I know 'fly' also
means cool. Chubby gives Anthony a twenty dollar bill, saying, "Here ya go,
home skillet," and Chubby interprets, muttering to me, "Home skillet means
'friend'." It doesn't surprise me Anthony considers Chubby a friend after
only meeting him a few times when Chubby's picking up up Gina for a
date. Chubby has a very unique ability to relate to others and he's almost
always grinning, like he thinks life's a lot of fun and most people like
him right away. Anthony says thanks to Chubby, and to me, he says, "Nice
meeting you, Dylan." I say, "Same here, Anthony, and I understood all of
that." He smiles, "Yeah, I can also speak English." He rubs Chubby's head,
telling him thanks again and then rejoins his group of teens at the other
end of the room. I go, "Wow, he's a cute kid. How old is he?" Chubby goes,
"Yeah, Anthony is a legit hot shit. He's sixteen." Too young, and anyway
Anthony did not seem to be one of the chosen ten percent. Also, I don't
know any teens who are talking that bullshit, but maybe it's recent and
only for the younger teens. Seems like a lot of trouble, like learning a
foreign language. Then Chubby wants to know how the softball game went and
I tell him about it as we eat our dinner. We drive home feeling contented
and at the condo Chubby says, "Have fun tonight, Dylan. See you in the
morning."


Okay, so Chubby's staying in for the night and this means Robby and I can't
use my bedroom. If Chubby glances out the window and sees Robby's pickup he
might come down to hangout with us for awhile and what Robby and me have in
mind requires us to be alone, ideally. I change into loose fitting shorts
and a tee-shirt. Then sandals. No underwear because that just slows me down
getting undressed and the sandals can just be kicked off. Tonight it looks
like we'll be doing Robby's and my one thousandth pickup truck fuck. Thank
God for that bench seat in Robby's pickup, and the gear shift being located
on the steering wheel shaft gets that out of our way, too. Just when I'm
about to leave to meet Robby at the curb, there's a knock at the door. I
open the door and it's Robby... we smile at each other as he comes in. A
kiss on the lips and then he says, "How' 'bout a haircut tonight, Dylan?" I
go, "You gave me one a week ago," and he's like, "For me, silly, not
you. My hair's long enough for a flattop now." I go, "Oh that's fair, you
give me the short burr haircut and you get a flattop." He chuckles, "Well,
you insist that I'm in charge so that's what you get." I mutter, "I guess,"
then, "Okay, boss, come on downstairs. It'll be a little risky getting sexy
down here tonight though. Chubby's home and he if sees your pickup he could
pop in on us." We're going down the steps to the finished basement with
Robby saying, "Yeah, he knows we're boyfriends and that we have sex
together, but it'd still be wicked embarrassing having him, or anyone for
that matter, walk in on us." Robby takes his shirt off and sits on the
stool, saying, "Leave it as long on top as possible. I want a normal
flattop, not a short one like Seth's." I get the clippers out and lay them
on the washing machine, muttering, "Yes'sa, boss man." He says, "Actually,
on the job I am your boss. You're the boss the rest of the time even though
you pretend I'm in charge. I know better." I listen to his clear, boyish
voice while staring at his awesome bare torso and the back of his perfectly
shaped head with its pretty two-tone blond hair and wonder to myself why I
need anyone else? Why do I alley-cat around like a tom cat when I have the
perfect boyfriend right here with me? When I'm with Robby I can't imagine
why I mess around with others. I love him so, more then ever before, and I
admit it was the threesome experiment that brought that realization home to
me like a clap of thunder. It was such a strong emotional thing to actually
realize what a prize I have in this sweet loving boy who thinks the world
revolves around me. And what do I do? I mess around with other cute boys
whenever I can. Dumb! Standing behind Robby I run my fingers through his
hair slowly, feeling so much love for him. My arms go around him and I kiss
the side of his face, then say in his ear, "I love you so much, Robby. What
would I ever do without you?" and another long kiss as I'm smelling his
skin and loving his scent. I don't believe I've ever detected BO from
Robby... not once.


He reaches up to put his hand behind my neck, turning his head so our lips
can come together, and we do a lover's kiss. Then Robby says, "You don't
know how much hearing those words from you means to me, Dylan. You've
always been the love of my life and I can't imagining that ever changing."
We kiss again, then I mutter, "Keep that thought in your head forever. I
was just telling myself how lucky I am you love me." He says, "Um, remember
one of our recent dates when we got a little too mushy with our words of
love?" I go, "Uh huh," and he adds, "Well, feel free to be as mushy as you
want." My arms are around his belly with the side of my face against the
side of his, as I say, "I love how you smell, Robby. That's not too mushy
is it?" He goes, "No way, but if you keep hugging and kissing me Chubby
might be shocked at what he'd see if he pops in on us. You're the sexiest
boy in the world to me, and I want to have sex with you so badly I have a
hard time controlling myself when I'm with you." I kiss his cheek again,
then say, "Yeah, me too," as I let go of him and massage his
scalp. "Remember when we used to give each other massages, Robby?" He goes,
"Of course I do. In the early days those massages gave me hope that maybe
you were gay and interested in me. I didn't know you were gay when I had
those years of secret lust for you. If you only knew the number of times
your face and body were in my mind as I pulled my pud, it'd probably shock
you." Using the clippers with a half-inch guide I cut the hairs on one side
of his head, saying, "It's funny you say that because I was infatuated with
you, and those massages gave me hope, too. They got to be very intimate and
eventually led to our first kiss, which I'll never forget. But, I still
don't understand why you put those notes in my locker saying I was a homo."
Done with the left side of his head, I work on the back as Robby says,
"Don't you remember?  I told you I did it because I was hoping you'd tell
me about the notes and that would get us on the subject of gays. I wanted
to see what you'd say about it. Maybe it would have given me a clue if I
had a chance with you, but you never mentioned the notes." I go, "That's
because I was a secret gay boy living in fear of being discovered and the
notes made me think I was being outed by someone. You remember how it felt
to be in the closet, right?" He says, "No, not really, Dylan. Dodger and I
were having sex together for a year or two before you and me met. My
brother and I were each others' only outlet until you and me came out to
each other with that first dream-come-true kiss." I finished cutting the
hair on the other side of Robby's head and then use the trimmers to taper
the hairs at his hairline in back and outline around his ears. We continue
reminiscing about our sweet early days as lovers and it all does seems so
sweet and innocent to me now.  Of course that pig Carl Denton was fucking
my brains out at the time, but he's the only one who knew I was gay until
Robby. No, that's not right, Willie was second and then Robby. And then I
had other sex partners one by one. It shocked me at the time how many gay
teens there seemed to be except now I realize there are many more straight
teens. It was just that us gays gravitated to each other. There's
definitely something to the gaydar theory.


Before starting on the flattop part of his haircut, I can't resist getting
my arm around Robby's neck and exchanging tongue-involved kisses with
him. Robby goes, "Mmmm, sooo nice," and slides off the stool to stand face
to face. We kiss and lick each other's lips and chin, making, "Mmmmm,
ummmm," sounds together now. I love how he tastes and I love his tongue,
lips, saliva, and scent. My hands rub over his bare back and up the back of
his head as Robby squeezes me in his arms. Our cocks are bone-hard as my
tongue slides across his cheek, "Mmmmm," and Robby's lips are at my ear
now, and he breathlessly mutters, "It looks like Chubby's gonna be in for a
shock if he pops in on us." Our hips hump into one another with precum
wetting the front of my flimsy shorts. I moan, "Let's go in the powder
room, Robby." Without letting go of each other we shuffle over to the
half-bath and in we go with Robby pulling the door closed behind us. We do
more passionate kisses, then Robby does the lick up the front of my nose
move, saturating my nostrils with his saliva. He stretches the neck of my
tee-shirt and sucks on my neck, then licks it, then more sucking, then back
to my lips until I'm dizzy with desire for him. Robby's strong and at times
when he's hugging me his strength becomes obvious and it turns me on. Boys
bodies are magical, made up of lots of wondrous things. So firm and taut
and strong and desirable. He's back sucking the hickey on my neck as I moan
in sexual arousal. Robby stops abruptly and turns me around to pull the
back of my shorts down under my firm bubble-butt buttocks that I'm so proud
of. I had nothing to do with it, of course. I must have got the bubble-butt
gene from my dad, and at times I visualize his bare seventeen year old
bubble-butt ass bobbing up and down when he impregnated my mom with me. I
sometimes cry at night thinking how unfair it is that my father died before
he was even as old as I am now.


Looking back at Robby I see him pull his cock out of his fly and strokes it
with the first two fingers and thumb of his right hand. It's a fat stubby
boner, shiny with precum and looking extremely hard and tight. Robby lets
go of his cock and slaps my ass with his open hand. Then four more stinging
smacks, "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" gets my ass cheeks quivering and
stinging. The sound of the slapping reverberates off the tile walls and
echoes in my ears, sounding like gun shots. With his lips tightly closed he
pushes the head of his boner against the lips of my asshole and then plugs
it right in with me jerking forward, muttering, "Ow," and then, "Ahhhh."
Robby's a little frantic this evening as he hugs around my belly pulling me
further onto his steel cock. Fully impaled, I moan as pleasureable
sensations skip up and down my rectum. My boner's caught in the front of my
shorts so I free it by pulling my shorts down in front, like Robby did in
the back. My cock flattens against my belly feeling oh so fine and Robby's
lips are on my hickey again as he forces his cock a fraction of an inch
further up my ass, his bare belly snuggling against my buttocks. Very tight
and a little painful, but feeling awesome too, and in less than half a
minute all pain fades. Robby's tonguing my ear now, making quiet, "Mmm,
mmm, mmm," sounds while breathing through his nose like he's trying to
catch his breath. My ass adjusts quickly, accepting his boner fully and
allowing additional pleasure sensations from the many sensitive areas in my
rectum. Robby withdraws his boner slowly and then forces it all the way
back in, squeezing me back against him again with Robby moaning, "Oooooh,
it feels soooo, gooood..." He withdraws most of the way and immediately
pushes it back up my ass smoothly and then begins a steady fucking of my
ass while he makes whiny sounds as if he's overwhelmed with the sensations
on his cock. My cock is still tight against my belly, drooling precum now
as my head lays back onto Robby's shoulder and I concentrate on the
sensations tantalizing my rectum. I moan, "Oooooh, yeah, Robby, fuck
me... Mmmm, mmm," as he grunts driving his cock up my ass hard and
rhythmically creating the familiar skin against skin slapping that fills
the little bathroom, "Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds with every
thrust up my ass. This anal sex act with Robby is all I know now, all that
I care about, all that I want in this world: the sexy feeling of Robby's
body against my back and his strong arms squeezing me tightly against him,
the strong Robby-scent in this little room mixes with the sounds of our
bodies slapping together and our moans of mutual pleasure, and now the
unmistakable smell of sex mixes in with Robby's scent, plus there's the
feel of the side of his chin moving on the side of my face as he moves his
head with each thrusts of that boned-up cock inside me, and with each
minute of ecstasy that passes Robby increases the speed of his thrusts
matching his desire for climax as it builds and builds... all of these
things, plus the sensations vibrating and zipping the length of my rectum
has my balls tightening up and my cock throbbing with sexually stimulated
sensations. My boner continues tightening up and begins moving away from my
belly to stick straight out from my body.


Robby's pounding his wickedly hard cock up my ass and we've both tapped-in
to our animal intuition for sex, it's a deeply-satisfying frame of
mind. This is very much like the crazy monkey sex Ryan and I occasionally
had where our animal instinct for sex overtakes all other thoughts in our
brains. It's sex that produces knee-buckling orgasms and squeals of an
embarrassing nature. I'm writhing in Robby's arms, pumping my ass back into
each thrust as my boner quivers and precum drools; my balls are like stones
as increasing numbers of sperm fight for space until my nuts ache with the
need for climax. Robby groans and humps his cock up my ass and, leaving it
there, he lays against me whimpering with pleasure as his cock pumps his
seed into my bowels. The warm sensation gets sloppy and my orgasm is on me
making me squeal, "Eeeeee, mmmm," with cum roaring up from my balls to zing
through my pulsating boner and streak-out in a tight string of cum. A long,
creamy string splashes off the sink, then three more shots of spunk that I
can hardly see through the black dots that are swarming in my vision and I
realize my eyes are closed tightly from the awesome and enormous sensations
of climax. Opening my eyes, I gasp as my cum runs down the front of the
sink to the doors of the cabinet below. Robby lays limply against me as I
lean down and grab the sink for support, my right hand sliding in my
cum. Breathing deeply my shoulders shudder and my head shakes as I savor
the buzzing in my cock and balls, my rectum's full and hugging Robby's
cock. Then he groans and pulls his cock out leaving the lips of my anus
wide open and clutching at air. Robby sits back on the lid of the toilet
seat. I feel like laying down, but instead I sit back on Robby's lap as he
guides his cock up my ass and we both go, "Aaaah, mmmmm, ummm." His arms
are loosely around my waist as I stare at my cock, watching it slowly go
limp, then I lay back on Robby as he kisses the back of my neck. I have no
idea how long we fucked, it could have been three minutes or twenty. Time
had no meaning during that awesome sex. Finally Robby mutters, "So far so
good as far as your brother popping in on us." I chuckle, then ask, "What
happened? How'd we get into this crazy wild sex? I was giving you a haircut
and all of a sudden we're in here fucking." Robby chuckles, "You got me. I
lost my mind somewhere along the way. This was way out of bounds. Wow!" I
go, "It was off the chain, boyfriend!" And he's like, "Yeah, it was
awesome, for me anyway. How 'bout you?" I mutter, "Yeah, count me in the
next time you lose your mind." He says, "Only with you can I get so nuts
like this. It's, um, I don't know... well, like I already said, I lose my
mind with desire for you. I want to eat you up, I get so hot for your body,
for all of you. Hey, maybe it's love... haha. Yeah, it's definitely love."
"Me too, Robby." He says, "It's never enough though, that's the scary
part." I go, "Well, who knows, maybe you'll lose your mind in the pickup
later..."


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


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