Date: Tue, 29 Mar 2016 15:10:21 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME  CHAPTER 18

DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME



CHAPTER  18



by  Donny Mumford



Waking  up Sunday morning I glance over and see Chubby's still asleep in
the other twin  bed. It's a bummer we don't have a double bed in our bedroom
like last year. I  still like sharing a bed with Chubby even though we never
do anything even  slightly sexy anymore. Our quick kiss 'hello' in the
morning isn't intended to  convey anything sexual. It's just a way to show
brotherly love. Most men in  America can't imagine kissing another man, but it's
not uncommon for men in some  European countries, parts of the Middle East,
and Latin America to kiss when  greeting one another. They think nothing of
it. When Chubby and I were younger  we would, on rare occasions, experiment
with sex together. Nothing like Dodger's  and Robby's early sexual
relationship, but we did a tiny bit of it. Chubby's so  fucking attractive it was a
thrill for me. It's no wonder he always has a couple  of girlfriends, and by
saying he's 'attractive' I'm not just referring to his  cute looks, but
rather his overall demeanor and personality. To know Chubby is  to love him. I
actually contemplate for a second sliding into bed with him right  now, then
reject the idea as being too childish. Growing up blows! I get up  instead
and look out the window seeing a beautiful day for the beach. I'm  psyched
about that. There are few things more gloomy than a rainy day at the  shore.

Letting  Chubby sleep, I do my bathroom stuff and then get dressed. In the
back of my  mind I'm thinking Charlie will be on the beach today and I want
to look my best.  So, a sleeveless t-shirt to show off my tattoo and my
God-given 'guns'. I've  done some weightlifting at college this past year, but
even before that I had  good definition in my bicep muscles. Actually, at the
risk of sounding vain,  I've got a pretty 'hot' body. Chubby does too and
we assume it's a gift from our  dad's genes. Okay, do I want to wear the gray
sleeveless t-shirt that reads on  the front: 'I'm silently correcting your
grammar'? Hmmm, or  maybe my lime colored one with blue lettering that
spells out: 'Who's Pete  Sake?' I'll go with the Pete Sake t-shirt, plus the
boardie bathing-suit I  bought the other day when Chubby and I were shopping at
the Rockingham Mall.  Board-shorts and bathing suits come in different
styles. This one is slack  fitting with longer the legs than a regular bathing
suit; it hangs down just  below my knees and looks cool.

Stepping  into last year's sandals I check myself out in the mirror. Not
bad, ha ha. My  hair looks like a fuzzy buzz cut now that it's grown out a for
a few weeks.  Luckily my hair grows pretty fast, and it's gonna keep
growing too. Ryan's  haircuts stimulated my haircut fetish awesomely, but I'll
forego that thrill to  eventually have hair I can finally comb. My cross
necklace is worn outside my  t-shirt and as usual I've got my waterproof sport
watch on; both gifts from  Willie. I have the ring Robby gave me last year on
my left hand and the one  Chubby gave me on my right. And obviously I'm not
referring to that silly  diamond engagement ring Robby gave me, but the one
he gave me for my last  birthday. Neither ring has a stone, just a flat
design in the metal. Of course  I'm wearing my matching little hoop earrings.

Sliding my Oakley sunglasses up on  top of my head finishes the 'look'. Sweet!

This is the most jewelry I'd ever  wear at the same time and since none of
it is the least bit gaudy... it's cool.  I'd wear my leather bracelet too
except it would get ruined in the  ocean.

Finished  admiring myself, I make a mug of coffee and an egg sandwich.

Taking the sandwich  and coffee out on the deck into the bright sunshine I'm
feeling really good.  Pulling my sunglasses down over my eyes, I sit in one of
the captain's chairs  and eat my breakfast sandwich. There's no activity on
Jessica's deck and now  it's almost nine o'clock. Everyone there, and here,
is wasting this beautiful  Sunday morning except me. Done with the egg
sandwich I'm contemplating  another one when Jesse comes out on their deck
followed by Charlie. They're both  kinda dressed up. Church? They go to church on
vacation?  Huh. They both have steaming mugs of something as they talk
leaning against the  railing with their backs to me. They look like twins but of
course they're not;  Charlie's twenty and Jesse's twenty-one. Nice hair on
both of them! Charlie's  the rare guy who looks cool with  long hair. It's
combed in a guy's hairstyle with a part on the side. Most guys  with long hair
part it in the middle, which is okay, but I like the part on the  side
better. Ha ha, I just had a picture flash through my head of Billie in New  York
City. He had long, straight blond hair, but with bangs across his forehead
that his master, John, cuts weekly. Long  hair and bangs, an absurd look
for a guy. Poor Billy. I wonder why he never  called me. Oh well, it's
probably just as well because their sub/dom behavior is  actually a slave/master
relationship, and that's way too extreme for  me.

My  New York City adventure, while foolish, did teach me a lesson. I
discovered I  don't like being dominated nearly to the extent those two go at it.

I'm  apparently more sensible and have more self-respect than Billy. Anyway
I've  pretty much given up on any thought of a for-real extended sub/dom
situation. My  experience in Marietta, with Ryan was in-charge, was real
enough, although mild.  I actually found it sexily pleasurable for the most part.

Ryan does 'dominant'  almost perfectly as far as I'm concerned, but I'm not
in love with him. That's  the big qualifier. So, even though I liked Ryan
being in-charge, that can't  compete with the love affair Robby and I are in.

Hey, that reminds me: let me  check my cellphone to see if Robby read  the
text I sent him last night. Pulling my cellphone from my pocket I see that
he did read it and he sent me a text at eight o'clock this morning saying
pretty  much what I said in my text to him. Plus, he says he's expecting Dodger
and  his friend this afternoon. Can't wait to see Dodger when he comes down
here to  visit on Wednesday.

Chubby  comes out on the deck carrying a mug of coffee. He leans down and
gives my  shoulders a hug while we do a quick kiss. "Good morning, Dylan!

How'd you  sleep?" He sits next to me and I tell him about my great night's
sleep, but that  I miss sleeping with him in the double bed we had last year.

He's dressed very  much like I am. His t-shirt reads, 'Who are these
children, and why do they  keep calling me Daddy?'  We were together when we bought
these  t-shirts. Chubby has another one that reads, 'I'm lost, please take
me  home with you'. I bought three T-shirts and the third one reads,  'Cool
story, bro' and in smaller letters under that, 'Tell it  again why don'cha.'
I'll  wear that one tomorrow. I like it because it drips with sarcasm.

"Yo  Chub, look at our new friends over there on their deck. They're
dressed for  church." He mutters, "There's worse places to go than church, but
better them  than us, huh?" I'm like, "I don't know. I went to church every
Sunday in  Georgia and it wasn't so bad. I met some cool guys there, and after
church I  felt like it was a worthwhile hour, everything considered. The
music was good  too... uplifting, ya know?" Across the way the mother sticks her
head out the  door and I assume tells Charlie and Jessica to come inside
because that's what  they do. She looked very attractive, at least what I could
tell from here. I  know their father's handsome because I saw him last
night for a few  seconds. No one reappears on the deck so I suppose they went
out the  front door.

Chubby  finishes his coffee, and says, "Let's leave a note for the moms
that we'll be on  the beach." I go, "Good idea! While you write the note I'll
get the keys for the  Volvo and pull out the beach stuff. Tell the moms in
the note that we're taken  their chairs and umbrella to the beach for them."

Chubby goes, "Good plan,  Dylan," and that's what we do. Carrying two chairs
apiece, me with a beach  bag over my shoulder, and each of us with an end of
the umbrella under our arms,  we walk the two blocks to the beach. There's
a board pathway from the sidewalk  through coarse sand-grass to the beach,
and then there's approximately a hundred  yards of sand leading to the
majestic steel-gray Atlantic Ocean. Quite a sight.  A few yards to our left is a
stand that rents beach chairs and  umbrellas by the day. We rented chairs
last year but wised-up this year  and brought the chairs with us. Saved twenty
dollars a day on the  chairs alone. Then there's the lifeguard stand a
little to our left, down  closer to the water. As the tide comes in they move the
stand back. We're at one  end of the boardwalk this year, but the beach
goes on for another mile to our  left; there are no lifeguards for that mile of
beach.

This  early in the morning there are only a few people on the beach. I see
an  older couple sitting on rented chairs with a rented umbrella between
them  protecting them from the sun. They're both wearing hats and they're fully
 dressed in slacks and long sleeved shirts so going in the ocean is
obviously not  part of their agenda. There's a family with two kids about ten years
old. The  parents have chairs and the kids have beach towels laid out on
the sand, but  they're not laying on them. They're digging in the sand. The
only other people  here so far are a guy and girl in their mid-twenties, both
lying on their  stomachs on breach towels. Chubby and I lug our stuff close
to the water away  from the lifeguard stand. We take a few minutes to cover
each other with  sunscreen and I'd be lying if I said it doesn't feel sexy
having Chubby's hands  sliding over my body. Somehow I managed not to spring
a boner, but it's a close  call. Same thing when my hands are sliding over
Chubby's hot little  body.

After  that we set up the four chairs and position the umbrella between the
mom's  chairs. It's not easy getting the umbrella far enough down in the
sand so it  won't blow over, but between the two of us we get the job done and
work up a  sweat doing it. "Let's cool off in the ocean, Dylan," says my
grinning brother.  Everything makes him grin. We go into the ocean the way we
always do it: running  like crazy and keep going until we're in deep enough
to dive under. The slow  approach of entering the ocean that you see people
doing is torturous. Leaving  ninety degree heat to slowly, inch by inch, go
into water that's at least twenty  degrees colder is a bit of a shock to
your system, but once you're totally in  the water, no problem... it's
refreshing. The slow method is shock after shock  and not real smart. Get it over
with quickly, that's the way to go.

We  swim out to where the water's much too deep to touch the bottom, which
gets both  life guards standing and blowing their whistles at us while
waving their arms  for us to come in closer to shore. Lifeguards: a couple of
muscle-bound numb-nuts on a power trip. We oblige them having accomplished
what we wanted, which was to give the lifeguards something to do. Chub and I
wave at them, then swim back towards shore until the lifeguards sit the fuck
 down again. They go back to talking with two girls who are wearing barely
legal  bikinis. Chuckling, we swim together for a while, then body surf into
the beach,  wade back out and wait for another good wave to do it all over
again. It's a  good workout and we're feeling invigorated by time we're
ready for a break. In  the half hour we've been in the ocean more people have
staked a claim to more  areas of the beach. For now no one has set their stuff
close to anyone else, but  when it's crowded later this afternoon everyone
will be within a couple of feet  of the groups surrounding them.

Back  in our beach chairs, Chubby says, "This would be a perfect time for a
cigarette,  huh?" I shrug, "Yeah, but it's forbidden on the beach this
year. Second hand  smoke is offensive to others, and I can agree with that even
though I smoke." He  says, "It's not that we can't smoke. We can if we want
to pay the $250 fine. A  rich dude could sit on the beach and smoke all day
while passing out hundred  dollar bills each time he lights up. They could
assign a beach patrol guy to  stand next to him collecting the fines." I
chuckle, "It's an escalating fine  though. Second offense is $500 and so on."

Chubby takes a cigarette from his  Marlboro box and puts it between his lips
doing his mischievous grin, telling  me, "I wanna see which one of these
cunts goes for their cellphone to report  me." I laugh, "You should flick your
Bic lighter too." No one pays us any  attention though so he puts the
cigarette back in the box and we slouch down in  our chairs to sun bath silently.

Well,  Chubby and I are silent, but it's far from silent around us. The
ocean waves  never stop breaking on the shore, then receding and there's the
ceaseless  squawking birds and the high pitched squeal of little kids having
fun digging in  the sand or running too close to sunbathers kicking sand on
them. And we hear  the sharp voices of parents trying half-heartedly to
control their children.  Sounds of the boardwalk drift down as well, and there
are the voices of people  walking the beach that we hear snatches of
conversations from, as well as  someone's radio playing rap music behind us. The
thing is, all these sounds  blend together to make white noise in kind of a
relaxing way. I've never had a  problem dozing off on a beach blanket or chair
surrounded by beach sounds. The  breeze is very pleasant too, and so is the
salt water smell from the ocean that  comes in with the breeze.

The  brochure about Wildwood claims five miles of wide, white sandy
beaches, but the  sand is more gray than white. The sand can get dangerously hot
from the sun too,  so for the walk from the road down the beach to the ocean
footwear is a must.  There are many things special about the seashore even
though law makers try  their best to forbid you from doing just about anything
you can think of except  laying on the beach and swimming, but only in
limited parts of the ocean. There  are many rules. Signs posted at every beach
entry point lists what's  forbidden. The signs tell you if that part of the
beach is lifeguard protected  and the times the lifeguards are on duty: 10:00
AM to 5:30 PM.  Forbidden on the beach are such things as: No Smoking! No
alcoholic Beverages,  No Vehicles, No Obscene Language, No Surf Fishing, No
Ball Playing, No Frisbees,  No Litter, No Kite Flying, No Animals, and No
Fires. In small letters the sign  says flotation devices are  permitted in
posted areas ONLY!  Beach Is Closed 11:00 PM to 6:00 AM. There  are things
you're allowed to do, like breath, but not too close to anyone else:  hold your
breath in that case. And the lawmakers are thinking hard this very  moment to
come up with other things to forbid  people from doing. They haven't
thought of forbidding gum chewing yet, for  example, or gawking at others, so
there's still a few things one is allowed to  do... for now. Oh yeah, they still
allow boogie-boarding. An  oversight?

It  does seem very restrictive except most of the forbidden things are done
 regularly on the beach, just not at the lifeguard protected areas. Sure,
there  are a few beach patrol Jeeps flying around acting like cowboys trying
to catch  someone doing something wrong, but they're easy to spot coming
down the beach so  you simply stop doing whatever forbidden thing you're doing
until they pass by,  giving you their dirty looks. It's actually not all
that bad and for the most  part we don't even want to do most of the forbidden
things. And on the plus  side, Wildwood is the only beach in New Jersey
that's free. Other beaches like  Margate City and Ocean City require everyone to
buy beach tags for like ten to  twenty dollars a day, and they have roving
bitches checking to make sure you're  wearing the beach tag. Considering
that Wildwood's Chamber of Commerce claims  there are nine million guests
visiting this resort town every summer, that's a  lot of potential income they're
leaving on the table.

Chubby  says, "Here come the moms," so I look behind me and see them
walking towards us,  both talking at the same time. When they look up we get their
big smiles, but no  waves because their arms are full. We get up to help
them carry their 'stuff'.  They always have big beach bags full of whatever,
plus a beach blanket, beach  towels, and a cooler. Big hats on both of them
and some sort of a flimsy top  covering their bathing suits. Ya know what?

They look good for their age; both  turned thirty-eight earlier this year but
looking younger then that. We jog up  to them and Mom says, "Oh, our
handsome boys!" As we relieve them of their  stuff, my mom tells us, "Rider texted
Tris that they'll be here around noon and  they're bringing a couple of
pizzas down for our lunch." Tris says, "I described  to Bud, in great detail,
where we'll be on the beach, so there's a fifty-fifty  chance they'll find
us." The mom laugh at that, then my mom says, "They're very  successful
business men, but their sense of direction..." and as the moms get  settled they
continue that conversation between themselves. Chubby and I roll  our eyes,
grinning at one another.

It's  almost eleven o'clock before we spot Jessica and Ellie walking down
the beach  carrying beach bags over their shoulders and struggling with beach
chairs.  Chubby says, "C'mon, Dylan, lets help the girls." We get up and
jog through the  sand again. I'm looking for Charlie, and not seeing him.

Chubby smiles brightly,  "We've come to your rescue. Let us carry that stuff for
you." He takes the  chairs, one in each hand, saying, "Bro, get their beach
bags." The girls offer  me their beach bags with Ellie smiling, "Oh my,
chivalry lives on," and Jessica  tells me, "Funny t-shirt, Dylan." I look down
at it as if I don't know what I'm  wearing, mumbling, "Oh, yeah, ha ha.

Chubby's shirt is funny too." In addition  to the beach bags both girls are
carrying huge purses, so Chubby sarcastically  asks, "Ya sure you didn't forget
anything?" They laugh, then Jessica turns  around and waves at her patents
who are twenty feet behind us, saying  unnecessarily, "Our parents are behind
us." Then she yells, "Mom, Dad, over  here." Oh great! They're all here
except the one I was hoping to  see.

We  get the girls situated and introduced to our moms. They immediately
have lots to  say to each other. Women are like that. Chubby's not done sucking
up to the  girls yet, saying, "I'm gonna help your dad with those chairs."

I'd go too but  Jesse pulls on my arm, saying, "Wait, let me see your
tattoo, Dylan." She looks,  then says in a quizzical way, "Your name? You had your
own name tattooed on your  arm? Why, so you won't forget it?" I'm blushing,
mumbling, "I didn't know what  to get. There was this tattoo guy with a
Mohawk and, oh, never mind." Then I  add, "Chubby's got his name tattooed on
his arm too," but Ellie ignores that,  asking Tris, "Why does Dylan keep
calling Jeff, Chubby?" and Tris tells her the  real reason. Ellie laughs, "That's
cute. Guess what Jeff told us the reason  was?" She tells the moms and they
all laugh as Chubby sets up Jessica's parents'  chairs. The moms are
introducing themselves to the very good looking Mr. and  Mrs. Barns. The Barns
family consists of: Ann and Toby, the parents, and their  children Jessica and
Charlie, plus Jesse's friend, Ellie. Nice looking family,  and at the
moment, minus Charlie.

The  girls want to go in the ocean right away so Chubby and I gladly leave
the  parents to their chatter, getting better acquainted. The girls prefer
the  torturous method of entering the water while Chubby and I use the method
we used  earlier. Finally the girl reaches us in deeper water with Chubby
smiling and  splashing water in Ellie's pretty face. She goes, "Oh you!" and
uses that as an  excuse to sort of wrestle with Chubby so they can both
enjoy a little bodily  contact with one another. Jesse and I just stand here. I
very much want to ask  Jesse about Charlie, but don't. Instead I make a
face, nodding at Chubby and  Ellie, mumbling to Jesse, "How childish." She grins
and asks me, "Do you have a  boyfriend back home, Dylan?" We talk about
Robby a little and she tells me she's  in love with a guy at college who's
visited her in Delaware two weeks ago.  Unfortunately her parents took an
instant dislike to the guy. She goes, "It was  awkward because he stayed with us,"

and she laughs, adding, "Tyron and I just  ignored the negative vibes
coming at us, ha ha. He's gorgeous." Tyrone sounds  like a black guy's name, but
it would be rude of me to ask if he's an African  American. Chubby heard
Jesse say the name though, and ask, "Are you dating a  black guy, Jesse?" She
says, "He's not black. He's mocha colored and beautiful.  Talented too. He
plays piano awesomely, and sings." Ellie says, "Yeah, Tyrone's  hot!"

We  stay in the water until Chubby says, "Hey Dylan, the twin fiancés are
walking  down the beach." I look up the beach and see Bud carrying a box of
what looks  like take-out soft drinks with lids, and Rider's carrying three
large pizza  boxes from the Mac's Pizza shop that's directly up from where
our chairs are.  There's a hefty kid from the beach rental stand walking
behind the guys carrying  two beach chairs. We wade out of the water answering
the girl's questions about  the twin fiancés. By the time we walk up to the
group the twins' introductions  have already been made. Rider, mom's fiancé,
gives me a man hug, saying, "Dylan,  great to see you. How'd you survive your
Georgia adventure?" I tell him it was  great and Tris' fiancé, Bud, goes
through basically the same routine with me as  Rider did. Chubby gets the same
treatment, but neither of us mind. Both  guys have Chubby's and my stamp of
approval which, believe it or not, meant a  lot to our moms. Bud is the
nickname for Timothy Rider, and he's engaged to  marry Tris. My mom's fiancé,
Rider, has always had that nickname. His given name  is Thomas Rider. I don't
know their middle names yet, and maybe I never  will.

We  do musical chairs for a minute with Bud and Rider setting their chairs
on either  side of the moms. Chubby and I rearrange our chairs on the other
side of the  girl's chairs so the six older adults can converse about
whatever older adults  converse about and us younger adults can goof around
conversing mostly about  nonsense. There's flirting going on between Chubby and
Ellie, and a discussion  about our love lives between Jesse and me. All
together there's ten of us now  making us the largest group on this part of the
beach, which is quickly becoming  a bit crowded. Early arrivals like Chubby
and I get the best spots. As for lunch  it's slightly awkward since the
fiancés thought there'd be six of us instead of  ten. There are twenty-four slices
of pizza though, so that's enough, but Bud  only bought six take-out cups
of soda. My mom has Cokes in the cooler so it's  all good. Many 'thank-you's'
from everyone to Bud and Rider for our lunch, but  especially from Mr. and
Mrs. Barns who say they'll treat us to lunch tomorrow.  The pizza's barely
warm by the time we finish it off. Then I ask if anyone wants  to go for a
walk, hoping Chubby says yes and the girls say no. Chubby and the  girls want
to go for a swim though, so I get the next best result: going for a  walk
alone.

I  like walking the beach and gawking at people. I'm mostly interested in
gawking  at male people of a certain age group. Some guys are naturally cool
while others  are nerds or geeks, but I like nerds and geeks. Some of them
anyway. With my  sunglasses on and my eyes moving from side to side I can
look at guys without  appearing to be looking at them. Most guys do not like
being looked at. Myself,  I don't care, but I'm in the minority in that
regard. As usual there aren't many  really cute guys to look at. There's some cool
guys though, and some nerdy guys  doing something I think is cool. Things I
wouldn't do myself of course, like  dancing awkwardly together in the sand
to a particularly hot tune on the radio.  A tune they perceive as hot
anyway. The next best thing to looking for cute hot  sexy guys is seeing friends
touching. Like good natured pushing or getting  someone in a headlock. Young
straight guys enjoying the feel of their friend's  body. In  any group of
young guys you'll always see pushing or arms across the shoulders  or touching
of some kind. The poor  straight bastards don't dare do openly embracing,
although some would probably  like to. In my lifetime, giving a friend a
quick hug as a greeting is perfectly  acceptable, but I don't believe that was
so in previous generations. Age is a  funny thing. I'm going to be
twenty-one, and  that's cool, but in a way I'd like to be fourteen again. Me and
Chubby at  fourteen; that was a wonderful year. So was fifteen, sixteen and so
on.  Ha!

According  to the cute-o-meter in my brain I detect the same rare number of
truly cute guys  on the beach I always find. Still, there's something cute
about most young guys  even though overall they're merely average looking.

As I often say, it's the  nose that screws up an otherwise cute guy. Some
guys are simply too Neanderthal  looking to have any cute features, through no
fault of their own obviously; for  example, the low percentage of young guys
who already have hairy backs, which  isn't cute at all. Very overweight
guys have a hard time looking cute too. But  overall, most young guys look good
simply because they're young. Obviously all  this is my perspective as a
young guy myself, so maybe ten years from now I'll  see things differently.

After  a half hour walking near the top of the beach, I turn around and
walk back  closer to the water where there's a fresh group of young guys to
look at.  There's a problem though and its that most of the people on the beach
aren't  young, and only half the ones who are young are guys. Further
compounding the  problem is the fact that a lot of the young guys are too young.

Nothing's  perfect though, is it? I started out walking on the beach
following the  boardwalk, but coming back I walk past where our beach chairs are
and continue  past the beginning of the boardwalk onto the beach without
lifeguards. There  aren't as many people on this part of the beach precisely
because there are no  lifeguards. Not too far up the un-lifeguarded beach there
are guys  playing two hand touch in the sand. Near the water two guys and
two girls have  outlined a handball court in the wet sand and are playing
handball. Both  forbidden activities on the beach. It's a more relaxed beach
atmosphere the  further past the boardwalk I go. A group of college age guys
and girls are  obviously drinking beer from plastic cups. I can see the beer
foam. If the beach  patrol should come along the cups will disappear until
the beach cops go by.  There's also a boy walking his small dog near the
water; another  no-no.

Turning  around to head back thinking I'm about ready to plop down in my
beach chair and  relax, I see a slim guy with long blond hair walking ten feet
in front of me.  His long hair is straight for about four inches and then
turns curly the bottom  four inches. Odd, yes, but I know someone with hair
like that. And, damn, he's  got a hot ass too! A wife-beater type shirt is
draped over one shoulder of this  slim blond, and he has a cool little walk.

Of course I'm assuming its Charlie,  but I better make sure. I speed up and
get level with him about ten feet to his  left with people in between us.

We're close to where our chairs are by now, and  it is Charlie. He's wearing
sunglasses and my dick flips in my board swimsuit  because he looks so fucking
cool, cute, and sexy. Sauntering down to him, I put  my arm across his
shoulders and he jumps away, going, "Aaah," pushing at me.  Charlie blushes a
bright red when he sees it's me grinning at him, "Sorry,  Charlie, didn't mean
to scare the shit outta you."

He's  shaking his head slowly, not looking at me, mumbling, "I'm such a
dork  sometimes. How ya doing, Dylan?" I go, "Pretty good. Where ya been all
day?" He  looks at me now, muttering, "Trying to lose my shadow, Ronny
Tarleckie. That's  who I thought you were for a second there." Not daring to touch
him again, I  walk next to him, asking, "What's he all about?" Charlie
shrugs, "He doesn't  have anyone else at the shore to hang out with, so I'm stuck
with him. It's a  mystery why he wants to hook up with me anyway since he
calls me faggot all the  time and he's always sort of wrestle with me." I
mutter, "Huh, maybe he's the  faggot." Charlie shrugs again, "Maybe he is, but
ya couldn't prove it by me. Not  that I'd want anything to do with him if he
is gay." I ask, "Have you been in  the ocean yet?" and he shakes his head,
"Nah, Ronny likes the arcades; that's  mostly where I've been today. This is
the first time I've been on the beach  since we got here." I say, "Well,
everybody's sitting not very far up the beach  from here. Um, where's your
shadow now?" He goes, "That asshole wanted me to  play Xbox with him." He
glances over at me, "Can you imagine staying in and  playing Xbox on a great
beach day like this?" Fuck, never mind that, I can't  imagine spending half the
day in an arcade, but I say, "Um, no, of course not,  but I also brought my
Xbox with me in case of a rainy day, God forbid! You wanna  play?" He knows
that's suppose to be a joke so he forces a laugh, muttering, "Oh  gee, can
we?" Cute! Then I remember to say, "Hey, happy belated birthday to you,
Charlie. You've left the teen years behind." He goes, "Thanks, but being twenty
sucks." I mutter, "I know what you mean."

I'd  kinda like to have Charlie to myself for a while, so before we get to
where  everyone's sitting, I suggest, "Let's go for a swim right now." He
shrugs again,  mumbling, "Yeah, alright. If you want to." I take a chance and
put my hand on  his shoulder, "Let's do it then." He grins, looking down,
saying, "See, I didn't  jump out of my bathing suit when you touched me this
time." As we walk down to  the water, I'm like, "Some people don't like to
be touched," and he goes, "Oh, I  don't mind being touched. You just startled
me back there." I pat his shoulder  this time and he looks at me smirking,
"Don't overdo it though," which makes me  snort out a laugh. I'm not sure if
he's shy or maybe putting me on.  Charlie goes in the oceans the slow way
so I suffer shock after shock  doing it with him, moving a foot at a time
into deeper and deeper water until I  go, "This is deep enough to dive in now,"

and that's what I do. When I come up  wiping water from my face Charlie's
still standing there. "Don't ya want to get  your pretty hair wet, Charlie?"

I'm grinning, saying that as a joke. He grins  back at me, asking, "You
think I have pretty hair?" I go, "Yeah, don't you?" He  says, "Actually I like
your hair better than mine," and he dives under water,  coming up ten feet
away.

Swimming  over to him, I grab his arm to help me stand up, as he asks,
"You're gay,  right?" I nod, "Yeah, totally, why?" He shrugs, "I just wanted to
be sure. Some  guys joke around about it, but they're not really gay." I ask
the obvious  question, "Do you have a boyfriend?" He shakes his head,
"Nope. Never had one,"  and he dives under again swimming under water coming up
maybe twenty feet from  me this time. He looks back grinning at me again as I
swim to him wondering what  he's all about. His hair is flat on his head
now and it reaching his shoulders  with a lot of the curly part becoming
straight now that it's soaking wet.  There's no hair on his slim pink torso. When
I get to him, I ask, "Did you put  sun screen on before you left the
house?" He shakes his head, grinning again,  saying, "Sun screens for pussies." I
say, "C'mon, pussy, I'll put some on for  you or else you'll get a bad
sunburn on that pale skin of yours." He shrugs  again. He's the king of
shrugging. He mumbles, "Okay," and we swim together  until we're even with where the
chairs of our group are situated.

Wading  in to shore he steals glances at me, then quietly says, "You're
really good  looking and, um, cute." I'm surprised he'd say that, so I'm like,
"Wow, that's  nice of you to say, Charlie. So are you," and he goes,
"Wouldn't our babies be  cute?" Is he putting me on? We  walk up to the group with
me saying to everyone, "Look who I found," and Charlie  gets a big greeting
from everyone and then he's introduced to the twin fiancés.  I let him sit
in my chair as his sister, Jesse, asks, "How'd you lose Tarleckie,  bro?" and
he tells her what he told  me. He seems quite comfortable in my chair,
while I stand. Chubby nudges me,  saying, "Keep me company, Dylan, I'm dying for
a cigarette." I nod and we walk  up the beach toward the street. It's at
least fifteen degrees hotter on the  street. As we light a cigarette to share,
 Chubby asks, "Making any progress with Charlie?" I snort a little laugh,
"No,  not really. How 'bout you and Ellie?" He says, "We're going to have a
date  tonight; just her and me. Jesse's meeting her boyfriend in Margate
where he's  staying the week, without her parents knowing he's there. You should
hook up  with Charlie." I'm like, "He's shy one minute  and forward the
next. He said I was really good looking and cute." Chubby asks,  "Is that the
shy Charlie?" I laugh, "No, that'd be the forward  Charlie."

After  we share two cigarettes we walk down a block to buy sno-cones from a
street  vender who's doing a brisk business. Sweet cherry flavor over
shaved ice is very  refreshing. On our way back down the beach we decide to have
some beers after  another hour here. Chubby tells me, "Bud and Rider are
taking us out to dinner  tonight at the Bay Shore restaurant around seven
o'clock." I go, "My favorite  shore restaurant," and Chubby says, "Yeah, so we'll
probably be done around nine  if you want to set something up with
Charlie." I go, "It'll have to be me  setting it up because I can't see Charlie
suggesting it." Back at our beach  chairs only Ellie and Charlie are still
there. All the older adults have finally  worked up the nerve to go in the ocean
to cool off. Chubby's grinning at the way  our moms are going in the water a
foot at a time. Then he asks Ellie, "Is Jesse  in the ocean with our
parents?" She says, "No, she went back to the house. She's  going to see Tyrone in
Margate tonight and she has an appointment to get her  hair done." I pat
Charlie on the back, asking, "How's my chair working out for  you, Charlie?"

He says, "its okay I guess, but I wish it was one of those chairs  with an
adjustable back so I could lay back on it." I go, "I'll rent one for you
tomorrow." He's getting sunburned so I ask, "Did you put sun block on yet?" He
goes, "Oops, no, I forgot," and Ellie says, "You'll be the color of a
lobster,  Charlie."

Charlie  shrugs and I get Chubby's sun screen and begin rubbing it on
Charlie's pink  shoulders. No complaint from him, so after his shoulders are
covered in sun  block, I say, "Lean forward and I'll get your back." Chubby and
Ellie are  giggling about something, not paying any attention to us. Done
his back, I tell  him, "Sit back now," and when he does I stand next to him
putting sun screen on  his forehead, saying, "You feel hot, like you have a
fever." He shrugs and  closes his eyes as I rub my fingers on his nose, cheeks
and chin, then his  hairless chest and down to his stomach. Not a peep out
of Charlie, but my dick  has awakened and moves a little in my swimsuit.

When I do his thighs my fingers  go an inch or so up his swimsuit's legs and
around to the back of his thigh. I'm  grinning to myself seeing Charlie
finally getting a little tense and the lap of  his swimsuit begins forming a tent.

He abruptly sits forward, saying, "Thanks, I  can do my legs." I hand him
the bottle of sun screen and rub his head. His dry  hair is like silk and
it's getting streaks of lighter blond hairs from the  sun.

He's  sitting forward as he spreads sunscreen on his legs, hiding his
boner. I say,  "Don't forget the tops of your feet," and he looks up at me
cutely, mumbling,  "Yes, Daddy." I say, "Just think of me as your big brother."

Done with the  sunscreen he hands the bottle back to me glancing at Chubby and
Ellie, who  are laughing and screwing around with her bottle of sunscreen.

Seeing  they're occupied, Charlie quietly asks, "Aren't you ever going to
ask me out,  Dylan?" I smile at him, "Yes, I am. Do you want to meet me
tonight about nine  o'clock?" He says, "That's better. You need to be the
aggressor because I'm much  too shy." I mumble, "I'm not so sure about that. Where
shall we meet?" He goes,  "At the end of the boardwalk, down from our
condos," and he glances at Chubby  and Ellie again before saying, "Have a condom or
two with you." I chuckle, then  say, "Okay, shy boy, whatever you say," and
he snorts out a laugh while  blushing and shaking his head, mumbling, "I
can't believe I just said that.  Jesus! Is it getting hotter out here?"

I  rub his hair again and he pushes my hand away, saying, "You'll get
sunscreen in  my hair." I'm like, "Let's take a walk," and he goes, "I need to
cool off," so  we do both things. We walk a block down the beach and then go
in the ocean away  from our various parents. This time I tell him, "Go in
fast like I do it,"  and he does. We run until the water's above our waist,
then dive under together  and come up bumping into each other while wiping salt
water from our faces.  "That felt good," from Charlie, and I shrug making
him laugh. He says, "I know  I'm always shrugging, it's my favorite habit."

We swim around, then body surf  for a while until he purposely body surfs
right into me and we get tangled up.  Grinning we stand, with Charlie saying,
"Jesus, am I going to need  to initiate everything? I'm the shy boy,
remember?" I say, "Oh yeah, I  forgot," and kiss his lips. It's a two second kiss
which is longer then it  sounds when you're doing the kissing. Charlie looks
around blushing and saying,  "Now you're getting there, Dylan. That's the
spirit!" I shrug again.

We're  working our way down further from the end of the boardwalk where
there's less  people. As we do that we have lots of clumsy encounters with one
another  and lots of bodily contact. We're goofing around in water that
reaches half way  up our stomachs when he stops and asks, "You got a boner yet?

I do," and we both  laugh. I say, "I'd grab your crotch to verify that
except it'd be too  childish," and he grabs mine and holds it, saying, "I'm
barely twenty years old.  Two days ago I was a childish teenager." I have a hand
on each of his shoulders,  asking, "Have you ever docked cocks with anyone?"

He squeezes my junk, mumbling,  "I don't think so," and I say, "You should
try it with your boyfriend some  time." He lets go of my crotch and casually
works his hand down inside the  waistband of my swim trunks getting his
fist around my fairly firm cock, saying,  "I already told you, I don't have a
boyfriend." I say, "In case you don't  realize it, people are swimming around
us." He shrugs, then blurts out a laugh  and awkwardly strokes my cock a
few times before saying, "The people will  think we're just talking," and he
stokes my cock into a pretty hard boner until  I feel an orgasm coming on and
gasp, "Don't, Charlie."

Pulling  his hand out, he mumbles, "Killjoy," and swims away. We walk out
of the water  with him asking, "Do you kiss before having sex?" I say,
"Sometimes. I already  kissed you once," and he says, "Good. That's good." We walk
up to the group of  chairs to get our sandals with me telling the moms,
"Charlie and I are going for  walk on the boardwalk." My mom says, "Sure,
honey," then, "Charlie, I like your  long hair." He blushes, "Thank you. I, ah,
like being different." I'm like,  "Mom, tell Cubby I'll be back before five.

He and I want to have a beer on the  deck before getting ready to go out to
dinner." Rider asks, "Is your birthday  tomorrow, Dylan?" I nod, "Yeah,
twenty-one at last. Yahoo." Bud mumbles, "A good  age as I recall." Charlie and
I give everyone a goofy wave and then grab our  sandals and walk away in the
sand exchanging gay smirks.

When  we're a good distance away from the group he puts his arm across my
shoulders. We're actually heading down the beach away from the boardwalk.

Charlie and I are the same height with basically the same body type, except
Charlie doesn't have a lot of muscle definition. He was on a roll earlier
with  his gay innuendoes so I wait for him to say something else, and he
does. With his arm remaining across my shoulders, he asks, "Have you ever heard
of a foot fetish?" I go, "Duh, yeah, who hasn't heard of it?" He turns his
head  to look at me, saying, "I'm just trying to get to know you. Um, would
you think  it weird of me if I ask you to let me put nail polish on your
toenails?"  I  laugh, "Um, yeah, I would definitely think that weird of you,
Charlie." He goes,  "Well I'm going to do it anyway, whaddaya think about
that?" I go, "I  already told you. I think it's weird, but I like weird stuff."

He goes, "Oh  good! We're gonna have a really good date tonight!"



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



donnymumford@outlook.com



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



Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine  published
and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them  for
next to nothing. The books are under ten dollars. They are about a 19 year  old
gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And there is  a
new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them out by
typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can  be
found in some detail there. Thank you.



Donny  Mumford



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

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