Date: Fri, 2 May 2014 22:23:16 -0700 (PDT)
From: Rob Roth <eighty.eight@rocketmail.com>
Subject: Dylan's Summer Vacation Two, Chapter 61

			DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO

				Chapter 61

			     by Donny Mumford

After cleaning the spunk that's drooled out of
my rectum, Junior and I clean-up the cum on the floor and then wash ourselves.
Junior's seemingly very proud of himself and apparently ecstatic about losing
his cherry and getting his first blow job. He also got his first taste of cock
which I was happy to provide for him. With our bathing suits and t-shirts back
on we're on our way back to the beach. Junior says, "This is the best day
of my life, Dylan, and that's not hyperbole. Gay sex at last, plus I got to play
with your pee, awesome urine by the way, and I got a cool haircut too, one I
wouldn't have the balls to get on my own, plus you gave me a fucking bath.
Damn, it's been a grand-slam-day alright." I run my fingers through what's
left of his light brown hair, saying, "Well, Junior, I enjoyed myself too,
you're a very cool dude. I had fun spending some time with you." He goes,
"Thanks, plus you still owe me five bucks and a kiss, so I got that going
for me as well." I'm laughing as I squeeze the back of his neck just
because I feel like it, and because he's a cute kid. He's cute in both looks
and personality. I ask, "Will you follow-up your first sex by feeling out
any of your friends you think might be gay?" He goes, "Nah, I can't
tell who's gay and who's not. If I had to guess, I say none of the guys I know
are gay." I mumble, "You might be surprised," and now we're on
the sand trudging toward our moms and the moms' twin boyfriends. Junior's mom
is chatty away with, I believe it's Rick, who's my mom's boyfriend... or is it
Ron. Well, they're fraternal twins and they do look alike, although they're not
identical by a long shot. I'm noticing that the twins have the same haircut,
preppy with a part on the side. Hmmm, hope they don't dress alike too, that would
be creepy for thirty year old men.

Junior's mom looks up and sees us on the beach
and gives us a big smile. When we're close, she says, "I love your
haircut, Junior. Come on over, let me look at you." Junior's grinning his
cute grin with dimples in each cheek, but he's also blushing a little because
everyone is staring at him now. He may be the most uninhibited guy I've ever
met, but he's still a teenager and if I can recall way back to my teen years,
we do not like adults staring at us. Ann, who's Junior's mom, says, "Dylan
you're a master barber, what a wonderful haircut for a boy during the
summer." Junior mutters, "It's just a haircut like lots of guys are
rocking these days." Ron, or is it, Rick, nods at his brother, saying, "We
had a haircut like that all through high school, and not just for the summer
either." My mom goes, "I can see you and Ron as high school students,
you don't look much older then high school students now, do they Tris?"
I'm thinking, 'That's a stretch!' but I don't say it. Tris says to my mom,
"I couldn't agree with you more, Dee," and then she tells me,
"Jeffrey was here a little while ago with a girl. He wanted his beach
towel and asked where you were." I go, "Was the girl with him, um,
stacked?" and Ron, or Rick, says, "Oh, you noticed that, huh,
Dylan?" and the guys chuckle with Tris saying, "Oh you guys."
Apparently the brothers don't know I'm gay. I kinda thought the moms would have
shared that news with them by now. I know the moms too well to think they're
embarrassed about me being gay so it must be they feel it's my place to tell
the guys, when and if I want to. I'm not going to bring it up now though, not
with Junior and his mom here. Junior's mom might not be as openminded as my mom
and it might make Junior feel uncomfortable too. Plus, I don't know Ron and
Rick, so why would I blurt out that I'm gay?

Junior and I decide a swim is in order, so we
leave the adults and their discussion about what an excellent barber I am, and
head for the ocean. It's flattering they think I'm an awesome barber, but I'm
wondering why they're making such a big deal out of it. For example, none of
the posse boys made a big deal out of me being a barber, maybe because we're
peers. It was more like a shrug, then, 'Oh you know how to cut hair? Good, give
me a free haircut'. Junior says, "That was a bit awkward?" Not sure
what awkward situation he's referring to, I ask, "Your haircut?" He
goes, "Yeah, everyone was gawking at me and mom was going overboard, like
a haircut is some big deal. Don't get me wrong, it's awesome, Dylan, and so are
you, but they're going on about it like we just cracked the code for the
Rosetta Stone or something." I go, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Um,
changing the topic, I assume someday you'll probably want to mention to your
mom your gay, so how do you think she'll take it?" He chuckles,
"Well, since I just found out for sure myself a little while ago, I
haven't given it much thought. My dad might have a bigger problem with it than
mom, but I just don't know. Anyway, if I tell 'em it won't be for years."
We're in the water up to our waists just standing here working up the courage
to dive in. I say, "Yeah, I just told my mom about me being gay this
summer." He asks, "How'd she take it?" I go, "It's funny,
but I got the impression she wasn't surprised, which surprised me." We
talk about being gay for awhile and then dive under water and swim, then do
some body surfing trying not to run into anyone. There's no
one I see that I'd want to run into. Later we dry off by walking ten blocks
along the beach with Junior and I evaluating the cuteness of certain guys we
see along the way. We have differences of opinions as it's seems Junior kinda
likes older looking, more macho guys, so I ask, "How'd you get a crush on
me, Junior? I mean, I look as young for my age as you look for yours." He
says, "Oh get real, Dylan, you're universally cute, and sexy too. Almost
no one would disagree with that." I chuckle, muttering, "You nailed
that one, dude." He says, "Hey, you're suppose to return the
compliment," and I get him in a headlock with my lips against his ear,
"I already told ya ten times you're cute as a button." His arm's
around my waist as he asks, "Button? How the fuck can a button be
cute?" I go, "Okay, you're cuter than a button," and he laughs,
mumbling, "That's better."

We turn around to walk back the way we came as
I'm telling Junior about my family taking me out for a birthday dinner tonight,
and then ask him if he wants to hook-up with Chubby and me later tonight. He
says, "Of course I'd like to, but I can't tonight. Mom and me our driving
to Sea Isle City to have my birthday dinner with my aunt and uncle. They rented
a place in Sea Isle for two weeks." I ask, "Any cousins?" and he
goes, "Yeah, but none of them have dicks. Two girls." I mutter,
"That's a bummer." As we approach the group I see that Chubby's
returned, and without Jen this time, thank God. My waterproof sports watch, and
thank you again, Willie, reads five minutes after five so the moms will be
heading up to the house soon. Chubby meets us walking towards him, saying,
"Nice job of avoiding me this afternoon, guys." I go, "Of all
the fucking nerve, you abandoned us for that female person with the engorged
breasts." Chubby's grinning and rubbing Junior's head, saying, "Looks
cool, Junior," then to me, "I've promised Jen to walk the boards with
her after dinner. Tomorrow and Friday it's you and me bro, so don't get pissed
at me." I go, "Oh, that's just great, you're walking the boards with
her, and Junior's gonna be in Sea Isle tonight, so I'll be alone." Chubby
mutters, "Probably not for long," and now we're with the adults who
are discussing what's happening tonight. Junior's mom says, "Oh, there you
are, Junior. It's time we get ready for your birthday party." Junior rolls
his eyes and stretches out the word, "Mooooom! I'm too old for a birthday
party, it's dinner were having, not a party." She smiles, "Yes,
Junior, it's dinner. Aunt Louise and Uncle Art will be surprised to see this
haircut Dylan did for you. You look so handsome." Junior looks
embarrassed, so when his mom's saying goodbye to the others, I say,
"Junior, your moms just like mine. They don't know any better, that's why
they say embarrassing things sometimes. They're nice things, but said the wrong
way from a teen's perspective, that's all. Ya gotta love 'em. It's no
biggie." He nods, "Yeah, you're right, I'll see ya tomorrow and
thanks for everything. You rock! I'm glad God answered my prayers with
you." We do a quick fist bump and one arm hug with Junior kissing my
cheek, muttering, "Now you owe me two kisses and five dollars." I
grin, and wave as he walks over to help his mom lug their stuff back to the
house.

Mom tells me the plans: She and Tris are going
back to the duplex to get ready for tonight while the guys do the same at their
motel. They're going to have cocktails on our deck at seven and we'll leave for
dinner around eight. Chubby and I will drive to the restaurant in the Jeep, the
moms will go with their boyfriends. We're eating at the restaurant I picked
out, which is, 'The Bay Restaurant'. It's on the bay at Somers Point. Chubby
and I decide to call it a day on the beach too, and now we're walking through
the sand carrying the stuff the moms brought to the beach with them this
morning. The moms walk with their boyfriends with Chubby and me behind them and
it seems funny seeing the moms walking close to the guy they're going out with.
Halfway to the parking lot Ron takes Tris' hand and they walk hand in hand. I
glance at Chubby who shrugs like it's no big deal, and I guess he's right. Back
in the duplex Chubby and I play a couple of computer games and then texts some
friends. I text Sonny, and for some reason Ray too, who I thought I was done
with. Why burn my bridges though. I text a shout-out to Cory Dunlevy who texts
me almost every week telling me something funny that happened at Stop and Shop
during his shift. I also text two other guys from Stop & Shop: I text
Matthew Flowers and Shaun Sullivan who both text me randomly saying they aren't
getting haircuts until I return to Merrimack. All three of the guys from Stop
& Shop are cool guys and since I want to work part time at Stop & Shop
again in the fall, it's good to stay in touch. My last text is to Seth who sent
me basically a love letter email. I keep the text vague regarding his love
letter, mentioning Connor who he's going to be meeting soon. Then, as Chubby
takes his shower, I write emails to both Connor and Dodger trying to be funny,
but end up kind of maudlin telling them how much I miss them. Lastly a long
email to Robby, and it is a love letter pure and simple. As I'm writing it I
get a boner thinking about him. Then I realize I'm going overboard so I end the
email with a joke. I tell Robby that this joke might make him think of a
specific person. He'll know right away I'm referring to Travis Pickles. The
joke goes like this:

Yossef works in a Polish pickle factory and for
the longest time he's had this strong urge to put his penis in the pickle
slicer. Unable to stand the torment any longer he seeks help from a
psychologist, but after six months of treatment the therapist sees that it's
helpless. He suggests Yossef go ahead and stick his dick in the company's
pickle slicer and get it over with, or he's never going to have peace of mind.
The next day Yossef comes home from work early. His wife wants to know why, and
Yossef tearfully confesses his tormented desire to put his dick in the pickle
slicer and today he did it, and got his ass fired because of it. Oh my God, the
wife rushes over and pulls down the guy's pants only to find an intact penis.
She doesn't understand and asks, 'What about the pickle slicer?' Yossef shrugs,
and says, "She got fired too."

I end my email with, 'All my love, Dylan'. Okay,
maybe someone could accuse me of being hypocritical about professing my love to
Robby because of the random sex I've been running into accidentally here in
Wildwood, but it's only been once a day for the most part and I don't know how
many times Robby may be doing it, and I don't care either. Robby and I have
true love for each other and nothing else comes close to comparing with that.
We're sowing wild oats, nothing more or less and the two of us will know when
it's the right time to commit solely to one another. What others may think is
of no concern to us because what we're doing is what's right for us and it's
nobody's business but ours.

Chubby comes in the bedroom just as I'm ending my
email to Robby, and he says, "It's all yours, Dylan," meaning the
bathroom of course. I say, "First I want to watch you get dressed."
He laughs and drops the towel, then grabs his privates, asking, "Is this
what ya wanna see?" I go, "Wait, let me get my magnifying
glass," and Chubby's like, "Oh man, you had to go back to the
nineteen-fifties for that one." I go, "Yeah, pretty lame, but ya
know, Junior's dick is even smaller than Dodger's, and yours is bigger by
far." He asks, "Good for me. What was the occasions that allowed you
to view Junior's tiny dick?" I go, "Peeing was the occasion,"
and Chubby goes, "Ahh yes, a little peekaboo, I see." He pulls on
boxer shorts and I hug him from behind, muttering, "I love you, bro,"
then go down the hall to the bathroom and do my stuff in there. I don't have a
date tonight so I put on whatever's handy after my shower and join the group on
the deck. I've brazenly got a Rolling Rock beer in my hand too. The boyfriends,
moms, and Chubby are already out here and I immediately get serenaded with the
lame, 'Happy Birthday to you,' song and barely survive it with a forced grin on
my lips. When it's over I go, "Mercy, show me some mercy," but they
don't. The moms hug and kiss me and the men shake my hand and pat my back as they
all again wish me a happy twentieth. Finally things settle down and I notice
five envelopes with my name on them laying on the round table. It's interesting
that there's five. One is from my brother, I recognize his neat handwriting so
I save that for last and open the next one. Inside I find, what else, a
birthday card. I say, "Hmmm," and open it only to have a fifty dollar
bill fall out. "Well, lookie here," I go, and then shove it in my
pocket and step over to thank Ron. He does a high five, saying, "You're
welcome, stud man." If only he knew, ha ha. Plus, high fives are sort of
dating him a little, but for fifty bucks he gets a big smile from me and
another thank you. Everyone is watching me and I think of Junior on the beach
and sympathize with him even more. The next card is from Rick with two twenty
dollar bills and a ten falling out of it and I'm liking this trend. Rick gets
the same thank you I gave Ron and I get an awkward hug from Rick, probably
because he's dating my mom and he's sucking in with her a little. They're good
guys though and I kind of like them. They seem natural and they don't patronize
Chubby or me. Of course I like them even more now with a hundred dollars in my
pocket. Both moms give me a birthday card with a hundred dollar debit card
inside. Debit cards are handy things to have in your wallet around campus. The
moms get hugs and kisses. Then I read the brothers-themed birthday card from
Chubby that's extolling a brother's love, and I need to concentrate hard not to
tear-up while reading it. There's a small envelope inside that I open and find
the picture of my dad that Chubby's carried in his wallet for years. He says,
"You carry it for the next ten years, Dylan, I've had my turn." We
hug and both of us cry which gets the moms crying, and it's a mess for couple
of minutes as we have a family hug. The twins look on, muttering things like,
"That's so nice."

Things settle down again and Chubby gets
everyone laughing with a factoid. He asks, "Which creature alive today has
the longest penis?" A titter of nervous laughter, then Ron says, "You
probably know the answer to that one, Rick," and that gets the adults
chuckling and Tris muttering, "Oh, Jeffrey, what am I going to do with
you?" Rick guesses an answer to the penis question, "How about an
elephant?" Chubby goes, "Nice try Rick, but a bull elephant's penis
is only three to three-and-a-half feet long." There's some gasps and quick
glances among the adults, who would probably be laughing out loud if they were
at a cocktail party, but here there's a teenager present so they hold off their
laughter. Chubby goes, "The biggest penis prize goes to the blue whale.
His penis is the longest of any organism on earth at between eight and ten
feet." My mom goes, "Oh God!" and I ask, "Who measures all
these penises anyway?" To keep things rolling along I tell the pickle
slicer joke and everyone does laugh out loud at that one. So I survive our
little front-end loading party and around eight o'clock we get in out cars and
make the half hour drive to Somers Point. The Bay Restaurant is huge with both
outside and inside dining. I like outside, but it's pot luck getting one of
those tables. It's also rare you get seated right away and we don't. The
greeter at the reception stand takes the name of our party of six, and says,
"It'll be about a twenty minute wait, folks," which means forty-five
minutes, so we go in the bar and luck out grabbing a table people are just
vacating. The bar is crowded and noisy of course, but all these people are on
vacation and determined to have a good time so there's raucous laughter and
loud talking. Ron goes up a notch in my book when he orders drinks, included
beers for Chubby and me, which the waitress doesn't question. She's probably
too busy or maybe she doesn't want to lose a possible good tip by putting a
damper on our evening. On the other hand she could be assuming the guys want
two beers each. Either way it's all good. This place is fairly new which is one
of the reasons I like it. It's kinda interesting watching adults on a date, and
I gotta hand it to the twins for not doing the million question routine with
Chubby and me like so many adults would do. You know, they don't know what to
say to us so they ask questions about our personal lives, not that they'd find out
much from Chubby and me anyway. I give them credit for carrying on a
conversations with our moms... they're their dates, not Chubby and me.

We get a table for dinner in a little over a
half hour, which is faster than I expected. It's a big round table in the
outside dining area where the bay smells pleasantly like a bay should. It's a
pleasant night too, and it's lit up festively out here, but not brightly. We
have a candle burning at the middle of the table and Christmas-like strings of
lights are strung along the railing at the perimeter dining area; the little
lights provide a nice ambiance. Another reason I like this place is they have
cloth tablecloths and white clothe napkins. Most shore restaurants have paper
place mats and paper napkins. The adults order another drink, but none for
Chubby or me because one of us is driving. I don't want another beer anyway,
and I was surprised to see Chubby drinking one on the deck after the hangover
he had this morning. The conversation is constant and Chubby and me are
included in just enough of it to be pleasant. Mostly Chubby and me talk with
each other and since we're sitting next to one another that works out well. I
noticed right off that there aren't any young guys to look at and maybe ogle
because the wait staff consist of middle age woman, which is the one thing I
don't like about this place, but few things are perfect in life. Everyone but
Chubby looks at their menus and when the waitress brings the adult beverages
we're ready to order. I'm first to order as guest of honor, according to Rick,
who's my mom's boyfriend, so I guessed right about that. I ask if they have
she-crab soup, the menu says only, 'Soup of the day'. They have it so I order
that for my appetizer thinking of the lady Chubby asked for directions
last night, who recommended we try she crab soup. Then I order the whole
lobster plate for my main course and iced tea to drink. The waitress goes to
Chubby next, and he says, "I'll have everything my big brother's
having," which is typical. The adults all order seafood of one kind or
another and when the waitress leaves, Rick says, "I don't usually order
fish in a restaurant except at the shore the seafood's so fresh it kinda seems
dumb ordering a steak." Conversation like that gets Chubby and me
exchanging looks, then we excuse ourselves and wander outside for a cigarette.
We talk about Ron and Rick, coming to basically the same conclusions... we feel
they're good choices for our moms, although some of their past boyfriends have
not been good choices. One guy was this big Italian guy with slicked back hair
who always showed a lot of black chest hair with a thick gold chain around his
neck, and rings on every finger. Give me a break with that! There have been
some other off-the-chain characters over the years as the moms always seem to
have boyfriends of one type or another.

When Chubby and I return to our table we find
the adults laughing their asses off and we go, "What's so funny?" and
mom says, "Oh, nothing, just a risqué joke Rick told us." Rick asks,
"Who's up for another round of drinks?" Chubby and me say, "Oh,
okay, we'll have another," and Rick smiles, "Let me rephrase that
question. Who here of drinking age, wants another round?" Well, they all
do and they have time for one because service is notoriously slow at shore
restaurants. Chubby and I want to try out one of the water parks on the
boardwalk tomorrow and while we wait for our food we discuss which one is the
best. Then I spot a busboy... oh yeah, I forgot about busboys. Maybe they'll be
some nice scenery for me to check out after all. This busboy isn't especially
cute though, but he has the same cool haircut I gave Junior today so he gets a
point for that, plus he's got skinny, hairless arms that I think are cool for
some reason. I don't always know why I pick-out something about a guy that
strikes me as attractive or sexy, it's a subconscious thing. This kid is busing
the table right next to us and his name tag reads, 'Jimmy', which is a cute
name so he gets another point for that. Ya know, he looks Vietnamese for some
reason, maybe because he's very slight. I gotta reevaluate him, the longer I
look at him the more I'm thinking he qualifies as cute. Mom breaks my
boy-watching trance, saying, "Here come our drinks," and Chubby says,
"The appetizers are right behind them." Chubby and I get our iced
teas finally, and our cups of sea crab soup. I'm anxious to try it, so I blow
on a hot spoonful of it, then taste it and it's awesome. I asks the waitress,
"Why's this called 'she' crab soup?" She goes, "Um, I think it's
made with female crab." She thinks? What she means is, she guesses. I
could guess that too. Ron says, "It's basically a bisque, Dylan, made with
a regular mirepoix, crab, and some shad roe with cream. It's quite delicious,
don't ya think?" I go, "Yes, it sure is," and I'd like to tell
him I know what a mirepoix is, but it might sound like I'm showing off. As
we're eating our appetizers the twin boyfriends want to know how our freshman
year at Merrimack went, and after Chubby and I give basically no information, I
find out where Ron and Rick went to college, and what they do for a living.
They're both CPA's in their own business together. Hmm, that sounds like they
might make a pretty good buck.

A different busboy clears our appetizer plates.
He's older and not interesting in any way that's resonates with me. The moms
need to go to the little girl's room to powder their noses, so now this will be
a test for Ron and Rick. We'll see if they're unable to find something to talk
about with Chubby and me, and begin asking us personal questions to fill the
silence. They cleverly fill the time talking sports and they know what they're
talking about too. We all dump on the Red Sox and we're eagerly awaiting
Patriots training camp. Okay, the guys surprisingly pass that test. The moms
return, with Tris saying, "Sports talk guy? Do you want Dee and me to
start asking dumb questions about sports?" Rick says, "Maybe not, you
girls are looking beautiful tonight." To adults that non sequitur is
funny, and they all chuckle while Chubby and I exchange knowing glances like,
'They're adults, what'd you expect'? Actually, outside Chubby and me were
saying how good we feel about our moms having fun with these guys. The extent
of the 'fun' we did not get into. Our dinners arrive and when it's served the
waitress ties a big paper bib around Chubby's and my neck. We expected this
because other diners eating whole lobsters have a bib around their neck too.
There's a picture of a lobster on the front of the bib. We roll our eyes at
each other and when the waitress leaves pull the bibs off, with Chubby
muttering, "I'm not feeling the bib thing tonight." Cracking lobster
shells to get at the claw meat is a bit messy so we use the bibs as hand
towels. These are steamed lobsters so lots of liquid inside the shells, but we
manage. The melted butter we dip the lobster pieces in pretty much covers our
chins by the time we're finished eating. The moms commented that they do not
ever order lobsters because it's too messy eating them, but the lobster meat is
delicious. Ron says, "Lobsters are basically scavengers eating whatever's
on the floor of the ocean." Chubby has a factoid or two, "The biggest
lobster ever caught was forty-four pounds and was over three feet long." I
say, "Huh, as long as an elephant's penis," which gets the moms
groaning and the guys chuckling. Mom moves on from penis talk to ask, "Do
lobsters have teeth?" Ron goes, "Yes, but they're in their stomachs,
not their mouth." That's kind of a gross concept, so I go, "Folks,
I'm trying to eat here, ya know."

Dinner is quite enjoyable actually, and I feel as though Chubby and I got to
know the moms' boyfriends a little too. When our table's cleared off by the
same unattractive busboy, Rick asks, "Any room for dessert?" And
across the room comes a conga line of busboys singing 'Happy Birthday, dear
Dylan." Oh fuck! The first kid in the line is really cute though and he's
carrying a birthday cake with sparkling candles. Oh man, I knew they'd do this
to me. Everyone sitting at the outside tables is straining their necks to see
who the sucker is having a birthday. These busboys aren't just going through
the motions either, they're really into it as they form a semicircle around the
table singing loudly, all staring at me. Chubby's laughing as he moves his
chair away from mine to get out of the line of fire. The moms and their
boyfriends are all smiling and chuckling as my face gets red and hot. When the
busboys finish their too long version of that silly birthday song, the cake is
placed in front of me and each busboy parades past to slap my hand and say,
"Happy twentieth, dude." A couple of cute busboys too, one of which I
make what seems like meaningful eye contact with. Made my pecker move in my
pants a little. Jesus, I'd like to run into him again. He looks Italian, he's
about my age, cute, slim, and my height so he's good to go, assuming he's gay.
His name tag reads, 'Albert'. Kinda cool and his presence almost made this ordeal
worth the embarrassment. I mumble to Chubby, "Your turn on Friday."
Mom says, "Dylan, honey, it wasn't Tris' or my idea, the guys insisted on
it and they're treating so, ya know," and she shrugs smiling brightly at
me. I go, "Thanks guys, it's been an awesome birthday dinner, really,
thanks a lot." Rick says, "Coffees are coming, and here come the
plates for dessert. Cut us some cake, birthday boy." Corny, but ya know,
kind of nice too.

I glance up and see the busboy of my dreams from
the conga line bringing dessert plates. We lock eyes again and then as he sets
the plates down next to me he leans against me, gives my shoulder a squeeze,
then rubs his hand up the back of my head, smiling and saying, "Enjoy,
Dylan." I gulp, feeling my dick stirring, as I mutter, "Thanks,
Albert." When he walks away, Tris says, "What a good looking young
man," and Rick says to Ron, "Ya got competition there, bro." The
adults think that's funny too. Jeez! I slice through the decorated icing spelling
out, 'Happy Birthday, Dylan', figuring this had to be arranged ahead of time
and maybe it's why we got this primo table outside too. I'm using the knife
Albert brought with him, and somehow I get the first wedge of cake on a plate
and pass it to Chubby. He goes, "Hey, whats on my piece?" I look
closely and Chubby lifts the plate so icing gets on the tip of my nose. Oh my
God, you'd think that's the funniest thing that's ever happened as everyone at
the table laughs like mad. I mutter, "This isn't a wedding reception, bro."
Mom takes over the cake slicing, still chuckling about the icing on my nose,
which I try wiping off with my napkin. The coffees arrive so I add three sugars
and cream to mine, then hesitantly take a sip and just as I feared it's an
imitation of the undrinkable Starbuck's coffee, bitter and strong enough to
remove paint. That coffee company has poisoned everyone's common sense where
strength of coffee is concerned. Dunkin' Donuts has it right, thank God. The
cake is really good, white cake with vanilla butter cream frosting. Chubby and
me both have two slices, and then Rick mumbles, "What the hell," and
takes another slice, the last one. I manage to drink the coffee with only a
couple of complaints about it, and then we're done dinner. The guys each give a
credit card to the waitress and split the cost of dinner with Chubby, me, and
the moms heaping thanks on them with praise for an excellent dinner. While the
waitress runs up the credit cards Chubby and me hit the bathroom to wash our
face and hands of lobster juice, butter, and cake icing. The guys are signing
for the check when we get back, so we stand next to the table and wait. Chubby
lets out a long burp that gets me laughing, then Chubby starts laughing, but
the adults don't see the humor apparently. Tris says, "Jeffrey!"
which gives us two guys the giggles.

In the foyer Chubby and I do handshakes and/or
hugs saying goodbye to the the moms, Ron, and Rick along with one last thank
you and then the adults adjourn to the bar for after dinner drinks. The
nineteen year old, along with the twenty year old head outside to the parking
lot for a cigarette and to critique the dinner. We give this experience high
grades and we don't have anything negative to say about Ron or Rick either.
Chubby says, "Well, they're only ten years older then you and eleven years
older then me, so that might explain us getting along with them." I go,
"Eleven years older then you, my ass." He grins, "For two more
days anyway, old timer." We rag on each other and share a cigarette, then
I take the last drag and flick that sucker at least fifteen feet in a high arc,
but Chubby's walking to the car with his back to me so he missed  it.
Dammit! We drive to the duplex and find a half decent parking spot so we leave
the Jeep there and walk to the boardwalk. On the way we congratulate ourselves
on the fabulous weather we're experiencing this week, not that we had a goddamn
thing to do with it. Chubby's meeting Jen, and whoever else, at ten-thirty so
we have time for a ride on the double-shot that used to scare the shit out of
us, but now we're fairly blasé about it. After that ride we sit near the
boardwalk railing and share another cigarette. When I see Jen, Julie, and
Julie's boyfriend approaching I wave at them and bump fists with Chubby,
saying, "See you later, Chubby." He asks, "You wanna hang out
with us, Dylan, I hate that you're alone." I go, "No thanks, Chubby.
I'm good, no worries."

It's good that Chubby's feeling a little guilty, but the truth is I'm alone so
infrequently it's kinda cool being on my own once in awhile. I'm twenty years
old and don't need someone holding my hand all the time; I can take care of
myself. Obviously I'm not going on any rides alone, that'd be pathetic. I'll
just wander around wherever I feel like and I know a place I want to scope out
for old time sake. It's the Mohawk Tattoo and Piercing parlor where I had one
of the strangest experiences of my life. I'm not going inside the shop though,
just look in to see what's changed and see if that Mohawk guy is still scaring
people out of their wits doing whatever he wants with them. Well, I'm
misrepresenting that a little bit because he gave me a pamphlet the day before
my appointment that explained what procedures were involved. I was too lazy to
read it and when he asked if I wanted the works I didn't want to admit I hadn't
read the damn thing so I got the works. Mohawk man thought I wanted a Mohawk
haircut, a tattoo, and my other ear pierced, plus a fuck and whatever else went
with the 'works'. What the hell, the tattoo is cool and Chubby even got one
when he saw mine. Robby still claims he's going to get one too. That big stoic,
scary Mohawk bastard totally had his way with me. Talk about a submissive
trance, holy shit, did he ever dominant my ass. I was completely docile while
he was doing whatever he wanted, but that was two years ago and I'm much more
mature now. Plus, I do not want a Mohawk haircut, so I'll stay clear of him. In
many ways it was a surreal trip like might happen if I'd taken a hallucinogenic
drug of some kind. Thinking back to that time, maybe I was wilder and more
adventurous in those days, or maybe it's just that I was stupider then I am
now.

On the way to the Tattoo Parlor I spot someone
leaning against the railing on the beach side of the boardwalk that I'm
thinking I recognize from last year or the year before. He's so cute he's not
someone I'd likely forget meeting, although I can't remember his name. There's
someone with him, his back towards me as he looks out at the ocean. People keep
walking in between the cute kid and where I'm standing, so it's like I only get
a flicker of him during the quick openings in between the people walking by.
Hmmm, if it's the kid I'm thinking of there's something different about him
now, but what is it? I casually wander a little closer dodging the crowds as I
try to figure out what's different about this guy? Or am I confusing him with
someone else. Then he glances over and sees me. A really cute little grin
breaks out on his face as he waves with just his hand, a little wave of his
fingers, and calls to me above the boardwalk noises, "Yo, Dylan,
whassup?" I still can't come up with a name, but then the coolest stud
ever turns around with a cigarette between his lips and says something to the
cute kid. Grinning to myself, I know what they're names are now... Mike and
Richie. What a couple they are! Mike is so cool, beautiful, and oh so confident
and Richie is so fucking cute it should be illegal, plus he's
one of the nicest kids I've ever meant. Of course that's pretty much a first
impression because I don't really know them well at all. Come to think of it,
Mike was kind of a prick to me at first but he turned out to be really nice
once I sort of acknowledge to him that he's the alpha dog, so to speak. He's
got an uber dominant personality and I remember thinking the chip on his
shoulder is maybe covering up something, and I say that because underneath the
hard exterior he's got a soft heart, and you can see he really loves Richie,
who's the cutest puppy dog ever. I remember thinking it might be that Mike's
fighting an internal battle knowing he's gay, but wanting to be something else.
From the way he and Richie interact there's no doubt in my mind they're gay.
Mike acts tough though, maybe because that's the picture he has of himself in
his head. The reality of him being gay might be a confusing contradiction
physiologically for him, and the fact he can't resist Richie must entail
enormous amounts of rationalization in Mike's mind too. Richie on the other
hand is quite comfortable being who he is, like me... if I'm not giving myself
too much credit, that is.  Hey, I'm just guessing about all this. For all
I know none of my speculations are accurate. And now I know what's different
about these two. They're no longer rocking the buzz cut look I remember. They
both have longer hair, but it's cool, not nineteen-eighties-style long hair.
I'm just standing here now in sort of a daze because there's something about
both of them that makes my dick jump up and down.

Richie points at me and Mike smirks with a
little smart-ass grin on his face. He flicks his cigarette butt over the
railing way out into the dark night, then he does his index finger wiggle, like
'come over here'. Ha ha, I wouldn't expect this cool dude to come over to
little ole' me. I try to be cool walking over but I have a silly grin on my
face too. Mike kind of intimidates me, although I'm not afraid he'll hurt me,
it's more like I don't want to do anything to disappoint him. I want to please
him so he'll like me. It's the oddest thing and I don't pretend to understand
it. I go to Mike first of course and he gives be a hand clasp and a hug with a
couple of pats on the back, saying, "Dylan, good to see you again, and you
didn't try running me over this time, so I'm grateful for that." It's
coming back to me now how sexy this kid is and he's got a sexy scent to go
along with everything else. I stupidly kiss his cheek and then blush a deep red
as Mike chuckles, saying, "Thanks for the kiss, numbnuts. Hey, Richie here
was wondering if you'd be coming to Wildwood this year. He just mentioned it a
day or two ago." Mike's body is hard and tight, like my dick is getting to
be. I look into his eyes and he smiles, asking, "Aren't ya gonna say hello
to Richie?" I nod my head doing a silly chuckle, "Heh, heh, of
course," and my eyes switch to Richie's beautiful eyes. He's smiling at me
with that inviting expression on his face and his arms open. I mutter,
"Hi, Richie," and he gives me a hug, then a kiss on my lips, saying,
"Yeah, I asked Mike just last night if he thought we'd see you. Mike says
you're cuter than me so I was hoping you wouldn't show up, ha ha," but the
way he said that, I know he's kidding." We talk about the time Mike
thought I blew my horn at him, but it wasn't me. He doesn't like people blowing
their horn at him. Back then he softened up later, as I said, but only after I
totally became submissive to him, not that I had a choice. He offered to give
me a ride on his motor bike too and I really wanted to, but chickened out. I've
always wondered what would have happened if I'd gone with him.

We all have a cigarette as I tell them about the
college I'm going to. They're going into their junior year at West Chester
University. Richie stares at Mike when Mike's talking and he leans against him
a lot too. Mike gives Richie a look every once in awhile and Richie straightens
up, then two minutes later he's leaning against Mike's side again. Finally Mike
gives up on his tough act and puts his arm around Richie's neck, pulls his head
over and kisses the side of his forehead. It's sweet actually, and you can see
they're in love. I'll bet Richie isn't alley-catting around like I do. If Mike
was my boyfriend I'll bet I wouldn't be doing it either. None of us mentions
we're gay, it's just understood whether Mike believes it or not. I feel good
being with them and sorta wish Mike had his arm around my neck. Mike says to
me, "You like playing pocket ball, I see," and Richie goes,
"Don't embarrass Dylan, Mike," as I realize I am indeed playing with
myself. Blushing again, I pull my hands out of my pocket and light another
cigarette that I don't really want as Mike chuckles and smirks at me. He's
ridiculously good looking and so sexy it makes my eyes water. I clear my
throat, then do a series of fake coughs that gets Richie patting my back,
asking, "You okay, Dylan?" God, he's a nice kid. I say, "Yeah,
thanks Richie, I think a drop of saliva got in my windpipe." Mike says,
"Or maybe you were feeling uncomfortable about getting caught playing with
yourself so you did some fake coughs to cover up your embarrassment."
Richie goes, "Mike! Stop picking on Dylan!" Mike chuckles and says,
"Richie, how about getting us all one of those fresh squeezed
lemonades," as he's reaching in his pocket for money. Richie says,
"My treat, I'll be right back," and he gives me a smile and squeezes
my arm as he walks past me. I turn my head to watch him until he disappear in
the crowd. He's walking across to where a couple hundred shops line the
boardwalk for it's entire two miles.

Looking back at Mike I see he's staring at me,
then he points at the railing next to him and I step over to that spot, staring
back at him. He gets his arm around my neck like I was wishing he'd do a couple
of minutes ago, and roughly pulls the side of my face against his. My cock gets
hard in my pants, as he quietly says, "You're not lusting after my
boyfriend, are you?" I stammer, "Lust? Um, ah, whaddaya mean?"
He says, "You know what I mean," and I go, "I'm not lusting
after Richie, although he's definitely worth lusting after and so are you. I'm,
ah, okay maybe I am lusting after him, but I wouldn't ever act on it. I'm
passive and need to be invited, Richie never invited me." Mike goes,
"Good to know." My arm goes around his waist, seemingly on it's own.
His body against mine is so awesome and I can feel some sexy five o'clock
shadow whiskers under his sideburn too. Mike says, "If Richie was alone,
you wouldn't try to seduce him, right?" I go, "Not intentionally,"
and Mike laughs, then goes, "Well, just so ya know, others have tried and
it hasn't worked out well for them." I mutter, "I'm not going to be
one of them," and he says, "I didn't think so. You smell good, Dylan,
has anyone ever mentioned that?" I go, "Um, I don't think so,"
and he chuckles, mumbling, "Sure they have," then he kisses my cheek,
saying, "There's your kiss back," as his arms drags across my
shoulder and then his hand ruffles the hair at the back of my head. My
shoulders shudder a little, and he says, "Now you've got the proper
haircut to join my old gang, but that was back then so you've still got the
wrong haircut," and he laughs again, adding, "You're sexy cute,
Dylan." He lets go of me, but my arm stays around his waist until he gives
me a look, and I let go of him. As he lights a cigarette, he asks me if I have
a boyfriend and I'm telling him about Robby as Richie returns holding three
cups of lemonade between both his hands. There are three guys with him. Mike
says, "It about fucking time you guys showed up."

Richie ignores Mike's comment and says,
"Dylan," and then introduces the three kids as he points to each one,
"Tony, Mac, and Sammy, guys this is Dylan Newman." I bump fists with
the three guys, asking, "How the hell did you you remember my last name,
Richie?" He shrugs, "I don't know, do you remember mine?" I
think for a second, and ask, "Is it Mealy?" He goes, "Yeah,
how'd you remember that?" I shrug grinning at him, saying, "I don't
know." Mike goes, "Well, now that we've established you both made a
big impression on each other, lets get going." He asks the three
newcomers, "How much money are you numbnuts bringing with ya?" Richie
says to me, "We're going to Atlantic City to do a little gambling, ya
wanna come?" I go, "It's kinda late isn't it?" He nods at Mike,
"Yeah, but his brother works in one of the casinos and he don't get off
until midnight. Mike wants to hang out with him. You can play the slot machines
with me, it's fun." I shake my head, "I'm not twenty-one, so I wouldn't
be able to gamble." He goes, "Oh, I forgot about that. It's cool
being legal age, you'll see." I go, "Yeah, in a year I guess I
will." Mike joins us, asking, "Is the sweetheart reunion over
yet?" Richie grins, "Not quite yet, Mike," and he leans over and
kisses my lips, then says, "I needed to kiss Dylan goodbye." Mike
twist his lips making a face, then he grins, "Okay, now let's go,"
then he points at me, saying, "I'm glad you don't live in Wildwood or go
to West Chester University. If you did I'd need to be a lot nicer to Richie,
wouldn't I Richie?" He laughs, "Yeah, maybe, Mike... haha, but
probably not," and Mike gets his arm around Richie's neck again, saying to
me, "See ya next year, Dylan. Have the right fucking haircut for once and
maybe you can join my gang." The five of them start walking across the
boardwalk with Richie looking back and giving me his little finger wave,
saying, "Bye, Dylan, it was great seeing you again." I wave back
smiling, and then watch them all walk to the other side of the boardwalk and then
down the ramp, leaving me wondering about Mike's leadership skills. His
so-called gang remains loyal to him even though he's gay and in love with
Richie, and what about Mike's brother? I got the impression from Mike last time
that his brother was a bad ass so I wonder how he received the news his
brother's gay? Humph, interesting, and it makes me think about Ray and how his
posse just accepts Ray's bisexuality without batting an eye, or do they?

Thinking about that, the truth is I don't know
enough about any of them to understand the dynamics of it all. I do know this,
Ray is no Mike Sullivan... not even close. Mike has charisma and such a, um,
such a strong personality, is the best I can come up with, but whatever it is,
I can't get him off my mind. I'm wandering aimlessly down the boardwalk
thinking about that unexpected encounter with Mike and Richie and it hits me
that, strong personality or not, Mike was jealous of the attention Richie paid
me. I gotta believe he loves Richie more than he admits to himself, but then,
what do I know? I'm thinking that'll be the end of my amateur psychiatrist
activity for the night, or maybe it won't because I think I know that cute kid
standing in line for a funnel cake. What was his name? Danny, yeah, that's
him, the kid who waited on Chubby and me in that open-front restaurant on the
boardwalk, the one offering old favorites like grilled to order hamburgers, hot
dogs, and cheese steaks. The entire staff consisted of high school boys with
burr haircuts, all wearing the same thing: jeans and white t-shirts with the
name of the restaurant across the back, 'Grant's Boardwalk Grill'. The man,
Mister Grant, works the cash register and he also gives the boys haircuts every
week, and what else does he give the boys? That's the question Chubby and I
wanted to know. It's a mighty suspicious arrangement old Mister Grant has going
for himself, and when I asked Danny if his boss interacted with the staff,
Danny's face turned a brighter shade of pale, I mean red. Standing in line with
his friend, Danny has a sparkling sweet smile on his cute face just like he had
when he took our order for lunch. Danny, like all the boys working with him, is
slim with a friendly expression seemingly always on their faces. He's no more
than seventeen I would guess, and the kid with him I think was one of the kids
working the grill the day we were there. Yeah, they were part of the day shift
so they'd have nights off and here they are. Danny has a pale complexion with
brown eyes and blond hair, and that aforementioned sparkling smile. Actually,
he's closer to pretty than cute. His friend has a swarthy complexion with dark
eyes and hair, and an unusual collection of facial featrures that, while cute
at his age, will probably be kind of silly-looking when he's an adult.

I'm curious if Chubby's anonymous phone call to
the police got any results, that's if they even investigated. Sauntering closer
to Danny we make casual eye contact, just a passing glance without any
recognition from him, so he doesn't remember me. That's understandable as he
must see a couple hundred people every day. Hmmm, I need a plan. It's always
good to have a plan, but not always so easy to come up with one. Curiosity
killed the cat I hear, but I'm not a cat, so fuck it, I walk up to Danny and
tap him on the shoulder. He turns around smiling his killer smile until he
realizes he doesn't know me, and turns the smile down to a grin. I say,
"Excuse me, but do you work at that restaurant on 37th street?" His
friend says, "Yeah, why?" and Danny nods his head in agreement,
glancing over at his friend's rude response. I go, "Oh, no problem, I just
wondered if they're hiring. I just got laid off at Fralinger's salt water taffy
and need a job, um, you know so I can stay down here the rest of the summer.
I've eaten at your restaurant and noticed all the guys on the staff are about
my age so it looks like a cool place to work, that's all." It's their turn
at the funnel cake counter so they order their funnel cakes, then Danny asks
me, "Do you want one?" I go, "Nah, I just ate dinner an hour or
so ago. Um, about the job... ah, are they hiring, do ya know?" He shrugs,
muttering, "They may be," and then pays for his sweet treat, and
says, "We're going over to the other side of the boardwalk to sit on a
bench and enjoy eating this non-fattening piece of sugared fried dough." I
walk next to him, mumbling, "I really don't think you need to worry too
much about calories," and he chuckles. Nodding his head at his friend, he
says, "My friend's suspicious of anyone asking about the restaurant
because strangers have been asking questions about it the past two days and
it's a little bit coincidental that you're interested too." His friend
says, "Yeah, and I don't believe in coincidences." I go,
"Huh," then to Danny, "What kind of questions are they
asking?" He talks with his mouth full of funnel cake with small pieces
flying my way. I resist the urge to open my mouth to catch a piece straight
from his pink mouth with those cute smallish white teeth of his, as Danny says,
 "Not like your question about a job, more like, I don't know, asking
about the working environment, stuff like that." The other kid says,
"Two men, who both say they work for some city agency that monitors the
boardwalk restaurants to see if they're following code. Sounds like bull shit
to me." So the cops did follow up, wait'll I tell Chubby.

I'm not sure how to proceed, so to stall for
time, I ask, "Do you mind if I smoke?" Danny shakes his head 'no'
while the other kid says, "Yeah, I mind." Shrugging, I say,
"Well, I don't work for anyone at the moment, never mind the city of
Wildwood, so do you think it's worth my time applying there tomorrow?"
Danny finishes his cake, and says, "It's kinda weird you asks, actually,
because two kids got canned today and we have no idea why." His friend
says, "I think I could make a damn good guess why they got canned,"
and Danny subtly shakes his head discouraging his friend from saying more. I
ask the kid, "Why's that?" He looks defiantly at Danny, then looks a
me, and says, "Let's just say they stopped being cooperative with the boss
man." Danny says, "George, you don't know that." George goes,
"Not for sure, but if I get fired before the end of week it'll prove I'm
right. I'm not cooperating with the boss man any longer either." Danny
says, "Don't get fired, George, please." George frowns, "We'll
talk about it later." I hesitantly say to George, "Well, I was gonna
apply for as job tomorrow, um, unless you don't think I should." He goes,
"Do whatever you want, I don't know you." I ask, "Did you know
all the kids when the summer began?" He says, "We're all from the
same high school, but no, I didn't know anyone except Danny, but what's that
got to do with you?" I say, "Why all the attitude, George?" and
he says, "Ahh, forget it, it's not your fault. Some shit's going on that's
had me pissed-off from the beginning of the summer, and I guess I'm taking it
out on you." Then he says to Danny, "That funnel cake made me feel
like barfing, I'm going back to the place and hit the sack. You coming?"
Danny looks at him, then at me, and says, "I'll be along shortly, I want
to help this kid decide if he really wants the job." George says,
"Good, that's what I started to do, but you cut me off." They stand
up and clasp hands giving each other the familiar one arm hug, muttering,
"Later, dude." Danny sits down with me and we silently watch George
disappear into the crowd.

Danny asks, "What's your name?" and I
go, "Dylan Newman, nice to meet you." We shake hands as Danny mumbles,
"Yeah, nice meeting you too, um, ya wanna walk?" I go,
"Sure." Not wanting to seem overly eager about what he has to say,
I'm waiting for him to bring the job up again. We walk for a minute or so, then
he says, "Don't mind me, you can smoke if you want to and, um, can I bum
one off you? I wanted to give up cigarettes for the summer, but I've got no
willpower." I mutter, "Yeah, I hear ya, I have very little of that
myself," as I pass him a cigarette, then hold my Bic lighter up so he can
light his cigarette. He cups my hand with both of his and the feel of his palms
on my hand, with his head bent down and his blond burr hair close to my face,
oh my god, it's enough to get my dick doing a cartwheel. His head's bent down,
still holding my hand between both of his as Danny's eyes travel up to the top
of their sockets and he grins, squeezes my hand, then a big exhale of cigarette
smoke tells me the cigarettes lit. I swear he's holding my hand much longer
then necessary. He mutters, with the cigarette between his lips, "Thanks,
man, I really miss smoking." Then he lets go of my hand and I do a fake
cough, then sputter, "Your welcome," and light my cigarette with my
hand a little shaky. He goes, "Um, I don't want to talk about what I'm
going to say with all these people around. Would it be okay with you if we walk
on the beach?" I'm still trying to get over smelling his hair and the feel
of his hands on mine, and I'm thinking this gets better minute by minute. I
say, "The beach is a good idea, Danny," he nods, giving me a grin,
"Yeah, the beach is probably a very good idea, Dylan." And the way he
said that gets me wondering if we're communicating in the same language, so ta
speak. If by some stretch of the imagination I'm thinking along the same sexual
lines as Danny, I wonder how that fits in with what I think is going on at the
restaurant.

At the bottom of the stairs we take our sandals
off and walk in our bare feet. The sand's still a little warm from todays hot
temperature and hot sun. Danny says, "The bottom line is you'll have no
trouble getting a job at Grant's, Dylan, if you want one, that is." I ask,
"Why's that?" He looks at me, and says, "To put it bluntly,
you're cute, slim, and girls, or maybe even some boys, probably think you're
sexy. Mister Grant feels guys on staff with those attributes helps attract
customers." I go, "Thats weird, but thanks for the compliment and I
can say the same about you." He grins, mumbling, "Thanks, and bingo,
as soon as old man Grant saw me I got hired on the spot. No interview, no
filling out of an application, no nothing." I play dumb, "That's
pretty unusual, isn't it?" He shrugs, "Not for that place it
isn't." I ask, "You're saying all the staff is, um, you know, good
looking and the other things you mentioned?" He goes, "Nah, it's just
what Mister Grant prefers, but some of the guys are very ordinary looking. How
many of us cute guys do you think there are?" I ask, "The guys I saw
at the restaurant all have the same haircuts too, not that I mind... look at my
hair, but is that a requirement?" He makes a face, like he doesn't like
having to admit it, saying, "Yeah, that's definitely a requirement, and
not one of the highlights of the job. Mister Grant gives us haircuts, one guy
in his room at a time, and performance evaluations every week. He seems to get
'off' giving these burr haircuts to all of us weekly and he's, um, how to put
this? He's a very touchy/feely individual, if you get my drift." I pretend
confusion, "Touchy/feely, how so?" Danny looks at me, and says,
"He's like queer, ya know? Gropes our privates and sometimes he does it
with his bare hand, as well as other stuff." I look shocked, "He puts
his hands inside your underwear?" Danny nods, mumbling, "He makes it
seem like a joke, like he's one of us teens just grab-assing with one of the
guys. Gene Gello told me old man Grant gave him twenty dollars to let the man
blow him and who knows what other kids let him do to them, or with him, when
they're in the room with him alone."

This sounds familiar, very similar to the window
washer boys fiasco. I go, "That's sick, but at least he's not doing
anything with you except groping you." Danny makes a face, shrugs, and
then mutters, "He's done a hell of a lot more with me than that, and I've
got the money to prove it, but don't tell anyone. For some reason I'm feeling
simpatico with you." Nodding my head, I pat his shoulder, asking,
"How come none of you guys tells on him?" Danny's like, "He
doesn't do anything to anyone if they're not a least eighteen and he has this way
of making it seem like a game, asking permission to touch your dick, for
example, or asking if it's okay to do whatever, and it's for money. So it's not
like rape or anything and we want to stay in Wildwood for the summer. Plus,
it'd be awfully embarrassing squealing on him now that we've been putting up
with being manhandled for six weeks already. It started out slow, but it's
picking up speed lately. That's probably why he fired those kids. They wouldn't
go for what he wanted then to. And they weren't, you know, cute... so he
probably wants someone cuter anyway. You'll be perfect, Jesus will you ever get
his attention! It's sick, like you said." I go, "Yeah, but I can see
you're in an awkward spot alright," and Danny quietly adds, "It gets
worse, a couple of us are gay, so saying it's awkward is an
understatement." I ask, "You're gay?" He nods his head,
"Yeah, me and George, but don't look so shocked." I suck on my bottom
lip, hmmmm. Then he slowly says, "And I think you are too. Am I
right?" My dick is moving in my shorts because this kid is legitimately
hot, and he's eighteen... he said the perv only messes with legal age guys...
legal age for sex, that is.

I glance over at him, "Yeah, I'm gay. Does
old man Grant fuck you?" He shakes his head, "Not yet, but I've
tasted his cock a few times." I go, "How do you do it with an old
guy?" He says, "Don't be judgmental, Dylan. It's a weird situation
and anyway he's never going to fuck me because I'm a top, George is the bottom
and he's suppose to appease the old fart, but he's backing out. That's why he
thinks he's going to get fired. Grant wants to fuck him for a hundred bucks and
George doesn't want to." I say, "George is kinda cute, so maybe he
won't get fired." Danny chuckles, "He ain't that cute and I tell him
he's going to be a strange looking adult." I say, "Well, I'm not
applying for a job because I can't do it with anyone much older then me."
Danny stops walking, looks me in the eyes, and says, "I'm not older then
you," and we stare into each others eyes for awhile. I go to say
something, but it sticks in my throat. He steps in front of me and puts his
hand on my cock and balls, saying, "Let's do it. I want to fuck you and
your eyes tell me you want me to. Am I right," and his face closes in on
mine with our lips meeting. His free hand goes behind my head as his tongue
slips into my mouth. I can taste the sugar from the funnel cake. His hand
massages my crotch, then lets go and, while kissing me, he unsnaps the button
to my shorts and puts his hand down the front of my underwear and my cock bones
up tightly. This is so sudden I'm caught off guard. I'd never expect this sweet
kid to be so forward and confident. A moan drifts from my throat,
"Mmmmm."

We're in the shadow of the boardwalk. Someone
would need to lean way over the rail from twenty feet up to even get a glimpse
of us. Danny gets a firm hold at the back of my neck, and as his lips slip off
mine, he whispers, "Get down and suck my cock," as he pushing on the
back of my neck. I've been totally taken by surprise at his confident
efficiency. I gasp, and he says a little sterner, "Suck my cock,"
pushing harder. My shoulders shudder as I go down on my knees and he pulls my
face against the crotch of his shorts, with his other hand he's rubbing my head
gently as if to calm me. "Pull my pants down and get my cock in your
mouth." He's captivated me totally and I hug around his thighs smelling
his crotch. Danny lets go of me and pulls his pants down himself and now my
face is now buried in his pubic hairs, his cock next to my nose and my chin
pushing his balls back. The smell is erotic as hell, musky and he's in need of
a shower. Danny gets some of my short hairs between his thumb and forefinger
pulling my face away from him a little . Taking his cock in his free hand he
rubs the head around my face and under my nose, then between my lips and I open
my mouth. He slides his cock in on my tongue making a hissing sounds as he does
it. Danny slides his cock side to side on my tongue and then he gets his hips
moving, sliding his cock in and out on my tongue. I'm still clutching his legs,
although I don't know why. Somehow I've drifted into one of my sexually
stimulated trances and it feels wonderful. In my trance I love Danny and I love
his cock too. My lips close on it adding additional friction and it bones up
fast. An average size cock but it seems big compared to Junior's. Well, it is
big compared to Junior's. He pulls his boner out, muttering, "Suck my balls,"
and as I lick his scrotum he pushes his saliva ladened boner around my face and
in my hair, then cupping behind my head with both hands, he coos, "You're
doing good, Dylan, just like I thought you would."

His words come from far off and I don't concentrate
on them because his balls taste good. I get a nut in my mouth to hum on it and
he grunts, "Yowl," and goes up on his toes. A big glob of precum
drools from his cock to slide down my forehead. "Pull your pants down and
turn around on all fours. You're gonna get fucked good and I know you want it
bad." I make an embarrassing whiny sound pulling my pants down to my
knees. Danny gets behind me pushing my head down and when my hands hit the sand
his boner forces it way past my sphincter muscle with one good thrust. He goes,
"Hmmm, yeah," and pushes more cock up my ass. It hurts, so I grunt as
Danny cups my shoulders and pulls be back onto his cock until his pubic hairs
flatten against my buttocks. I see stars and make another whiny sound as Danny
pulls back and drive it right back up my ass, as he's groaning with sexual
pleasure, "Ahhh, yeaaah." Then he pulls back and shoves it in again a
little smoother this time with less resistance from my rectum, but my anus is
burning. Another withdrawal and hard thrust back in moves me forward in the
sand a inch or so. Now he begins pounding his cock in my ass relentlessly, and
wildly, with me moaning at each awesome penetration, "Ooooh, ummm, ohh,
ohh, ohh, mmmm, ooh," Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap goes his body against
my ass with Danny never letting go of my shoulders. He begins pulling me back
as he drives his cock in, and my world is one big sexual turn-on with fantastic
sensations screaming pleasure to my brain. My cock is so hard it doesn't move
when Danny roughly pulls me back against his thrusts. I'm dizzy with all the
awesome sensations exploding in my ass, but it doesn't last very long. My
orgasm builds quickly and I'm soon gagging with the desire to climax. My back
arches and I go, "Aaaaah," as cum pour from my cock straight down to
splatter in the sand. My toes curl painfully and my body shakes as four fast
spurts of cum follow the first. He's still grunting, driving his cock up my
ass. I'm so spent my head drops down to my hands and now Danny's driving his rock
hard cock down my asshole as I moan quietly at the pleasure of being fucked so
good, hoping it continues forever. But it doesn't, Danny grunts, flopping on my
ass and lifting his legs off the sand as my ass gets filled up to overflowing
with his creamy teen cum. He's breathing deeply as sensations of orgasm flee my
body and only then do I hear the sound of the ocean waves breaking on the beach
again. We're like this for a minute or so, then Danny straightens up and pulls
his cock out of my ass making a wet slurping sound when the head pulls free of
my clutching anus lips. His cum drools down both my butt cheeks and he smacks
my ass in his cum, a stinging slap. I go, "Ow!" and he says,
"That should hold you for awhile my new friend. Here I've got some napkins
from the funnel shop," and he wipes my ass as I'm brushing my hands
together dusting off the sand. I feel pretty damn good too. Breathlessly, he
says, "You shave your pubes, that takes guts."

Taking a deep breath, I say, "Me and my
boyfriend back home shave each other, it's sexy. Um, you really took me by
surprise, Danny. I was totally not expecting that from a baby faced kid like
you. Wow, you fuck good." He smiles and helps me up, mumbling, "I
needed that so bad you wouldn't believe how much. George and I have no place to
fuck in the dorm room and he's too prissy to do in the sand like this. Whoa,
that was such a relief." I'm snapping my shorts and pulling up the zipper,
then I brush the sand off my shorts, saying, "I can feel sand in my
underpants sticking to your cum." He laughs, then asks, "Can you hang
out with me awhile? I can do you again even better in an hour or so. We'll both
last longer, orgasm-wise."

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

Please consider a tax-deductible donation to Nifty, a nonprofit
organization, to help with the expenses of maintaining this huge story site
that offers something for everyone. Thank you.