Date: Fri, 6 May 2016 10:22:14 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME Chapter  24

DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME



Chapter  24



By  Donny Mumford



It's was inevitable  that Chubby and I would wake up this morning with
massive hangovers. Even so we  felt it necessary to do the mandatory
turning-twenty-one ritual, fully  aware of the consequences. It's one of those rite of
passage things, a  cultural anthropological ceremony. We entered this new
phrase of our  lives two days apart, me first and two days later Chubby hit
the magic  number of birthdays; twenty-one to be exact. We celebrated the
occasion by getting kinda drunk, although technically not on either of  our
actual birthdays. Sleeping until almost eleven o'clock Thursday  morning, and
thereby wasting good beach time, another unavoidable  consequence, I get up
groggy and grumpy. Waking Chubby we pad into the  kitchen swallow Advil and
guzzle down lots of orange juice passing the  carton of OJ back and forth. As
we're staggering around feeling dizzy  there's very few utterances coming
from either of us, but we manage to  shower and get dressed, then hit the
boardwalk where we have a traditional  breakfast of eggs, bacon, home fries,
toast and two cups of coffee each. Outside  the restaurant, still with very
little conversation, we sit on a  boardwalk bench looking out at the beach and
the rolling ocean beyond it.  It's mercifully a party-cloudy day with a
good ocean breeze. Finally Chubby  mumbles, "Can you believe I'm thinking I
might smoke a cigarette?" I shrug,  mumbling back, "No, I can't imagine doing
that with my head feeling like a  balloon. Ya know, that
'no-smoking-in-public-places' rule is probably a  pretty good one. Just imagine if we were
smoking cigarettes along  with drinking too many draft beers and shots of
bourbon. We'd probably need  to be hospitalized."

Taking our time walking  back to the condo, I get a text from Dodger. He
promised Norman, who has never  seen an ocean before yesterday, they'd go deep
sea fishing. Do we want to join  them?" I ask Chubby and he just gives me a
'look', like: 'Are you out of  your bleeping mind?', so I text back, 'No
thanks', but we'll catch up  with you boys later this afternoon.' Whoa, this
heat doesn't mix well with  a hangover. At the condo we're getting the beach
chairs out of the Volvo  when we both decide we need to use the bathroom.

Leaving the chairs in the  driveway we trudge up the steps to the deck and go
inside through the  French doors. When we've both finished with the bathroom
we can't resist  laying on our beds in air-conditioned comfort for just a
few minutes. Naturally  we fall back to sleep. Sleeping is one of only three
ways to recover from a  hangover: time passing is one of the three, and
sleeping is an excellent way for  time to pass, then you need something for the
headache, and the third  remedy is drinking lots of liquids. We had the
Advil and orange juice, plus  we put food in our stomachs, so I'm happily
passing time while  sleeping until I hear insistent knocking on the door off the
deck. Oh man,  I sit up glancing over at Chubby and have to grin because he'd
flipped over to  his stomach with one foot on the floor and one on the
bed.

Getting up I pad into  the family room and see Charlie at the French doors.

Damn, he's a good looking  kid. Opening the door, I ask, "Yes?" as if I
can't imagine why he's here. He  goes, "Yes? Whaddaya mean, yes? It's
twelve-thirty. Don'cha wanna get  in some beach time today?" I go, "Beach time,
hummm?" He's like, "You  remember: sit on the beach doing some people watching
while chit chatting  with friends and family, then some body surfing in the
ocean where  we'll purposely collide with each other so you can feel my hot
body. That  kind of beach time." Scratching my head, I yawn, then mutter, "The
 verbose babbling of a child," and he goes, "I'm only one year and a
couple of days younger than you." I say, "Come inside, Charlie, you're letting
all that hot air in." He steps in and I give him a hug, saying, "You
actually do have a hot body." He grins, "See! And you're missing  it."

He follows me into the  kitchen where I take two very cold Snapples from
the  refrigerator, pass one to him, then drink half of mine, gulp after
gulp." Taking a deep breath, I go, "When you turn twenty-one, Charles, be
careful you don't act foolish and get roaring drunk. There's hell to pay if you
do." He asks, "Is that what you did?" I frown at him, "Me? No, of course not,
 but I fear my brother has." Chubby comes out of the bedroom, asking, "What
are  telling this young fellow, bro?" I go, "Mostly bullshit," as I'm
handing him my  half bottle of Snapple iced tea. He finishes it letting it roll
down his throat  without swallowing. Charlie's staring at Chubby, then asks,
"How'd you do that  without swallowing?" Chubby mumbles, "It's something
adults have no problem  doing. When you grow-up you'll be able to do it too." I
say, "Bro, do you think  we've beat this age thing to death yet?" He nods,
"Oh for sure, but I was just  picking up on your never-ending rap about age
the last two days." I say,  "I'm done with it. It's out of my system."

Chubby mumbles, "Good," and Charlie  mutters, "Ditto."

We wash our face and  hands, take two more Advil each and we're ready to
face the world. Charlie  follows me down the steps, saying, "The asshole won't
be back until tomorrow."  I've got the back of my hand against my nose,
mumbling, "Hey, give Ronny a  break. He's trying to befriend you." At the
Volvo, the beach chairs are  laying on the ground where we left them when we came
back from  breakfast. Chubby says, "My faith in humankind is restored.

Nobody stole  our beach chairs." Charlie takes mine, saying, "I'll carry your's,
Dylan. I'll  probably be sitting in it anyway." I go, "Not today little
buddy, I'm hurting  and therefore require a day of dozing off in my beach chair
with the sights and  sounds of the beach and ocean all around me soothing
my throbbing head." He  says, "You can lie on my  beach blanket and doze
there." I say, "As soon as we get to the beach,  Charlie, you need to rub sun
screen all over me. Do it slowly with the palms of  both hands, and don't miss
any spots." Chubby's chuckling, then says, "You  do have more fun than me,
bro. Maybe I'm on the wrong  team." I say, "Nonsense," then add, "Ya know
what, Chub? I'm gonna take a  brave, albeit stupid, chance and having a
cigarette." He mutters, "You're a  braver man than me." I light a cigarette and
take a drag. Exhaling it I mumble,  "This blows," but I don't throw it away.

Charlie's using his free hand  to wave the smoke away from his face as I tell
Chubby, "You had way more shots  of bourbon than me, and therefore I'm
recovering quicker. I don't know when  you're going to learn that moderation in
all things works best." Charlie says,  "Not all things," and I go, "Well,
yeah, there are exceptions to the rule. There  are always exceptions to the
rule."

On the beach we  exchange greeting with everyone, then Rider says, "By the
look of you two I'm  assuming you ignored everything Bud and I told you
about drinking in bars."  Chubby says, "Huh, now that you mention it, Rider, we
didn't exactly follow  the advice you offered us, not to the letter anyway."

Bud goes, "What part of  our advice did you follow?" I mumble, "Um, we'll
need to get back to you on  that." My Mom says, "I know you boys will handle
being twenty-one as well as  you've handled every other age, but here's a
suggestion that Tris and I have  been doing the past ten years. Whatever we
spend on drinks during a girls night  out, we put that amount of money in
savings from next weeks' tips." Chubby  says, "That's exactly what we'll do
starting when we're twenty-eight." Tris  says, "Don't be fresh, Jeffrey!" Chubby
gives my Mom a hug, "Just kidding, Dee.  It's good advice."

Charlie's in my beach  chair so I lay on his beach blanket smelling Downey
fabric softener.  Huh, I expected to smell him on the blanket. Chubby's
huddled with  Ellie and Jessica telling them lies about what he and I did last
night . The six older adults are talking politics, so I wiggle my  finger at
Charlie and he comes over to the blanket, asking, "What?" I go, "Did  you
forget? You're suppose to rub sun screen all over my body. The bottle  is in
that beach satchel I carried down with me." Lying on my stomach I watch him
gets  the sun screen, then he drops to his knees next to me and spreads some
lotion on my shoulders. I tell him, "Next year you'll be twenty-one,
Charlie,  and people will call you an adult, but that's a complete joke. Don't
believe  them. You'll show you're ID but no one will believe it's not fake, so
be  prepared to deal with the police." He says, "I'm not worried about it,
plus you  said you were done emphasizing that you're twenty-one now and I'm
not." I  go, "Don't interrupt. I'm passing on good advice from my vast
experience of  being twenty-one. Shortly after becoming legal age you'll be
financially broke because drinks in bars cost five to six times more than  if you
bought the beverage at the store. And, be careful you don't get drunk in  a
bar and start buying rounds of drinks for guys you hardly know. Here's a
motto  you need to remember: you booze, you lose." He mutters, "Yes,
Methuselah."

He's spreading the sun  screen down my back near my ass, mumbling, "I'm not
listening to anything else  you say, Dylan, so you might as well save your
breath." His fingers go under the  waistband of my swimsuit with one finger
going down my ass crack with him  snickering. I glance at the group and see
no one's paying any attention to us,  so I enjoy the feel of Charlie's long
fingers and the soft palm of his  hands. By the time he's finished sliding
his hands down the back of my legs I've  got a raging boner. He has a
mischievous grin on his face, saying, "You can turn  over now and I'll cover your
chest and stomach with this creamy lotion, way down  low on your belly too."

I chuckle flashing him the finger. He flops down next to  me and nestles
against my side. I ask him, "How come this blanket smells like  Downey fabric
softener?" He puts his sun screen dripping finger in my ear,  mumbling,
"You're a smart guy, take a guess." I go, "Because the blanket's just  been
washed?" His lips close to my ear, he whispers, "Will you fuck me in our alcove?

Pleeeease." My boner gets harder. I say, "Ya know what? I'm  glad your
folks rented the condo across from ours." He goes, "Me too.  Let's go in for a
swim,"  and he nestles up against me tighter. I quietly say, "Try not to be
quite so  obvious, Charlie." He goes, "Why? Everyone knows we're gay." I go,
"Yeah, but I  feel funny flaunting that fact in front of my Mom, ya know?"

He says, "Okay, but  come in for a swim." I nod, "I will as soon as a part of
my body relaxes." He  laughs, then whispers, "I'm glad I can make that part
of your body, um,  unrelaxed." I'm like, "Me too, but for now would you go
sit the fuck  down in my beach chair." He gets up, pats my ass, and does
what he's  told. Ha ha, there's definitely something to the dominant side of
things.

I lay here as my  headache fades and think how lucky I am that cute gay
guys are  occasionally attracted to me, mostly for reasons I had nothing to do
with.  They're the same reasons guys I'm attracted to have nothing to do
with it either.  Obviously a person's physical appearance is the first thing
that attracts  one person to another, and some are luckier in that area than
others.  Physical appearance preferences vary, but it's more than just facial
 appearances anyway. There are other things one considers, like the way a
guy  moves, and their voice and scent, as well as how they dress and their
hair style... everything. We have a preprogrammed concept of what we consider
attractive; one that's been developed, mostly subconsciously, our entire
lives. A common interest is the next step in forming a relationship. And
that's  true no matter if it's sexual in nature, or not initially. Then of course
 there needs to be a physical proximity. Charlie and I temporarily qualify
in all those areas and consequently we're attracted to one another. The
temporary part comes in after this week when we won't have the  third
ingredient... physical proximity. Oh, and personality compatibility is  part of it
too. It also helps greatly if the guy I'm attracted to has  an understanding of
what recreational sex is all about too. Charlie  has that part down pat and
I really like him, but I can't honestly say that  about all my past casual
sex partners. I can't think of any I disliked, but  there have been those I
hardly knew. Others, like Timmy for example, were okay  although more a
convenience than someone I was especially fond of. So Charlie  rates quite
highly on my list of sex-buddies and therefore I wish we lived  closer back home.

Chubby interrupts my  musings, "Hey, bro, we're going in for a swim; you
wanna join  us?"  My boner's disappeared, so I get up, "Yeah, sure. Charlie,
how  about you?" He gets up too, giving me a frown. Ha, guess he wanted just
the two  of us to go for a swim. I return his frown with a smile and pat his
shoulder,  "C'mon, let's do that  body surfing you mentioned earlier." The
six of us jog far enough out in the  ocean that we can dive under and swim
out further looking for waves to body surf  back to shore on. There's plenty
of collisions during body surfing and  not just between Charlie and me.

Vinnie runs into me accidentally on purpose one  time and we come up wiping
water from our faces with Vinnie saying, "It's going  to be like old times this
afternoon, huh?" I frown, asking, "How so?" and he  goes, "Oh, you don't
know?" I shake my head and he says, "I thought you knew,"  and he wades back
out to catch another wave. I've had enough of the ocean for  now so I go up
the beach to the chairs and use my chair while I have  the chance. My
hangover, while much improved, is still a nagging reminder that  it's still in
charge and not ready to leave me in peace just  yet.

Earlier  it was cloudy but the sun's very bright right now so I take a deep
breath  and get out of the chair grabbing my sunglasses from the bag I
brought with me,  then slouch down in the beach chair hoping to doze off for a
bit. One  thing I'm sure of is this: they'll be no adult beverages passing by
my  lips tonight. One hangover of this magnitude per vacation is all I can
handle.  To my surprise I do nod off and when I open my eyes I see all six
of the  adult-adults have vacated their chairs. Charlie's on his blanket with
Vinnie,  who's apparently napping next to him. Chubby's in a giggling
conversation with  Ellie and Jesse while Dodger and Norman are playing cards:
black-jack, or  some call it twenty-one.

Taking a deep breath, I  stretch while doing an inventory of how I'm
feeling, concluding I'm feeling much  better. My wristwatch reads one-twenty and
I'm hungry and thirsty. I get out of  the chair to watch Norman dealing a
black jack hand to Dodger who gets  twenty-one and collects Norman's dollar.

Dodger says, "So, sleeping beauty  awakes." I mumble, "Anybody wanna get some
lunch?" Chubby chirps up, "Yeah, it's  two o'clock and about time we had
some lunch; we were just talking about  that." We can't just abandon the
chairs, umbrella, and beach bags so we cut the  deck of cards to see which two
lose and need to go get pizzas and sodas for all  of us. Jesse and Chubby lose.

They collect money from everyone, then trudge  off to the boardwalk for our
lunch.

The conversation is  random ball-busting among the rest of us, strictly for
shits and giggles.  Ragging on one another including the fact I needed a
nap, needless  criticism of Ellie's one-piece retro bathing suit, Charlie's
girly curls,  Norman's hick North Dakota accent, Vinnie slipping in a word or
two nobody knows  the meaning of, and any Army nomenclature  Norman  or
Dodger uses in their conversation: it all gets mocked in a good natured way
totally for chuckles... no one's offended. Jesse and Chubby arrive carrying
boxes of pizzas, and sodas in take-out plastic cups. As we eat and drink  our
lunch the Moms, Rider and Bud, plus Charlie's parents saunter back down  the
beach. I smell booze on my Moms breath when she asks me how I'm doing, so
their lunch included a cocktail and there's nothing wrong with  that.

After we've had all the  pizza we want, Charlie and I take a walk. It was
partly cloudy this morning,  then the sun came out hot and bright, but the
weather forecast predicts a  thunder shower this afternoon. During the hot
days of August it's not unusual to  have a thunder and lightning storm with
heavy rain that last ten minutes and  then the sun comes out again, and there's
often a rainbow. The sky's getting  dark right now so it's likely the
forecasters got it right this time.  Charlie looks up, mumbling, "It looks like
it's gonna rain any minute now."  After my nap and then eating lunch I'm
feeling close to normal. Glancing at  Charlie, I get a stab of horniness and
ask, "You got a packet in the little  pocket of your bathing suit." He grins
pulling out the corner of a condom  packet, saying, "Whadda you think?" I nod,
asking, "You ever been a Boy Scout?"  He goes, "No, but I am prepared, if
that's what you mean." I mutter, "Be  prepared! Yeah, that's what I meant
alright."

We walk a few steps and  Charlie looks at me, asking, "Are you thinking
what I'm thinking? And  is 'our alcove' part of that thinking." I shrug at him,
so he does one of  his elaborate shrugs grinning at me. I go, "Charlie,
honest to God, I  think we've used up all our luck at the alcove. It's so, um,
open. If it  had a top, a roof of some kind, but it so fucking open." He
says, "You can top  this time," and I go, "Bullshit, it's your turn," and just
like last time it's  not IF we're going to be reckless enough to screw again
in the wide  open spaces, in daylight no less, it's who's going to top." He
really wants to  'bottom' again and I don't put up much of an argument
because I've enjoyed  dominating his cute ass and he likes it so much it makes
the sex extra hot for  me. 'Hot' for side-sex I mean.

We get to the alcove as  a few fat drops of rain splatter on the beach.

Looking up I start to say  something, but Charlie cuts me off, saying, "It's
less likely anyone will wander  by if it's raining." I say, "Jeez, I don't
think I've ever had sex outside  during a thunder storm." He goes, "If we don't
get hit by lightning it could be  thrilling." I go, "Yeah, being one with
nature and all that." As we approach the  alcove I'm looking all around and
don't see anyone, so that's good. Then a  loud clap of thunder reminds me I'm
not a fan of thunder storms. I'm  beginning to have second thoughts when
Charlie takes my hand and pulls be toward  the alcove, saying, "Don't be
afraid of a little thunder, fer fuck  sakes."

I hate peer pressure!  It makes you do dumb things. Inside the alcove we
nod at Charlie's two condoms,  snickering and shaking our heads slightly.

Charlie says, "You'd think someone  would clean up shit like this." I go, "Yep,
Wildwood needs to take a little more  pride in their beaches." Of course no
one would use this part of the beach with  the stones and beach grass and
all. Further to our right the beach  totally ends with large boulders that are
getting pounded by the  waves. The winds picking up noticeably and I need
to cup my hand over my lighter  lighting a cigarette. Charlie goes, "A
fucking cigarette? Now?" We both shrug  together chuckling as he gets the condom
packet out. I go, "Okay, I'll top, but  I'm only using the lube from the
condom. You're getting it bareback today,  buster." He shrugs, "Like we haven't
done bareback before."

With the cigarette  clamped between my teeth I rip open the condom, but
don't take it out of the  packet yet, saying, "Aren't you forgetting
something?" He's pulling his swim  trunks down, mumbling, "No, I'm not forgetting
anything," and he pulls my  swimsuit down past my ass, drops to his knees and
picks up my flimsy dick just  as thunder roars and a huge lightning bolt
cracks across the sky. I go, "Jesus!"  as two big drops of rain hit right on top
of my head. Charlie sucks my cock into  his mouth and does his very
practiced cock sucking as I play with his pretty  long hair, asking, "Have you
decided about your haircut yet?" Taking my now  saliva ladened firm cock from his
mouth, he looks up, saying, "No, you decide,"  and my cock goes back in his
mouth.

Damn! That feels good  as I grunt, "Umm, fuck," then say, "Lick my balls,
Boy." He takes my cock out  again, chuckling, "I haven't advanced to balls
licking yet," and I go, "Oh,  so I assume rimming my ass is out of the
question too." He nods his head, "A  correct assumption on your part," and he goes
back to licking and sucking a  boner on me until I push his head away,
"That's enough, unless you want me  shooting off in your mouth." He lets my hard
cock flop out of his mouth, then  wipes his mouth, saying, "Damn nice penis,
Dylan." I go, "Thanks! Everybody  tells me that." As he gets on his hands
and knees, mumbling, "No, they don't."  Seeing him on his hands and knees, I
say, "So you want it doggy style, huh?" He  grins, "Duh! How'd you guess?"

as he pushes his ass up and I smack it hard,  "SMACK!" He yelps, then says,
"I dare you to do that again." "SMACK! SMACK!  SMACK!" and his hand comes
back as he yells, "Okay, that's good," then he  strokes his cock a few times.

I tell him, "Ya know  what? I'm going to wear this damn condom so I can
show you how much  jism an experienced guy pours into one of these things.

Certainly not the marble  size orgasms you shoot." He goes, "They're golf ball
size. Not marble." Just  sliding the condom onto my boner feels good. It's
nicely snug. With a hand  on Charlie's hips I pull his ass up a little bit
more and humph the head of  my boned-up cock past his sphincter muscle. He
goes, "Umpt," as a loud thunder  clap hammers our ears followed by another big
flash of lightning. It makes me  jerk my cock out, then the rain comes down
hard and relentless. We're both  saturated within ten seconds. With fat
raindrops pinging off my head, hitting  and splashing off Charlie's back, I hump
my boner back in past his  sphincter ring, then hump it three inches up his
ass and watch his head come  back and his back arch.

The rain's pouring down  so hard I can't see ten feet in front of me and
it's forming puddles in  undulations in the hard packed sand. With rain
water's rolling down my face  as I thrust my hips smacking his buttocks with my
crotch and grinding my  hips. Charlie looks back scrunching his face,
pleading, "Wait a second, okay?" I  nod with so much rain pouring down my face my
vision is blurry. Charlie's long hair is  plastered against his scalp, hanging
down against his cheeks with  droplets of water falling off the ends. It's
a torrential downpour if I've ever  seen one. More thunder and lightning
with rain loudly smacking the sand, and us.  It's surreal as I pull back my
cock and shove it immediately back up his ass  with Charlie's head lifting up
and his back arching again.

I lay on his back  saying in his ear, "Is this hurting you?" He turns his
head, yelling, "It feels  so awesome I can't even tell you how good." Well,
okay then! I start fucking his  ass almost in a frenzy. I'm so fucking
turned-on seeing him rocking forward with  every hard slam up his ass. I suppose
we're making the normal, "Slap, slap,"  sounds of males fucking, but we can't
hear it because the rain's so noisy  splattering all around us. I can just
hear Charlie's, "Ooh!' with every drive up  his ass. That's turning me on
too.

It's torrents of rain  and anyone outside for a few seconds is as soaked as
we are. What a rush!  All this warm rain water pouring down on us makes
screwing in the shower  seem like child's play. Yeah, but a torrential downpour
twice in the same  weeks' vacation? Talk  about bad luck! The hell with it
though; sex in the rain is cool! I  see Charlie's head back so he's
obviously sensing the pulsing of his  prostate and sizzling from the lips of his
anus. I imagine that in my mind as I  savor the incredible sensations coming
off my hard swollen cock. Oh man, it  feels so good! I slap the side of his
ass, sliding my boner back and forth  fast, steadily, and smoothly, helped by
the lubricant on the  condom.

Maybe four minutes into  this sexy endeavor Charlie lifts off his knees
seemingly to get closer to my  flying boner. His knees are still bent as he's
on his hands and toes  now and it's an even better position for me to fuck
him harder. I'm  grunting to myself hammering my boner up his ass, then too
soon it's on me.  My orgasm percolates for a minute and when I'm on the verge
of climaxing, my  head back, moaning at the uncountable sensation from the
head of my cock,  Charlie thrust his hips forward and shoot a hard stream of
cum almost straight  down to splattering on the sand just like the rain is
doing on either side of  him. His second desperate thrust forward pulls off
my cock as I'm shooting my  load in the condom.

Gasping, seeing stars  in my head, I hop forward with my boner in my
fingers impaling him again.  He's back on his hands and knees with me humping my
boner in an out of his  opened-up rectum, three more shots of cum slap into
the condom, then  I'm thrusting for thirty seconds more before backing up and
stumbling  with my boner coming out of Charlie and me slipping in the wet
sand  and falling on my ass. The condom comes off while I'm stroking my
cock. Dropping the condom, I lie back on the wet sand and let the rain pour
down on me as I absently stroke my semi-hard cock. Then the rain stops like
turning off a spigot. I'm breathing deeply looking up watching the sun
drifting  out behind a cloud. Huh, I don't see a rainbow, but there should be  one.

Charlie walks over to  me on his hands and knees looking like a drowned
puppy, grinning and asking,  "Would you slide your cock up my ass again." I
mumble, "Sit on it if you want,"  and he turn around and takes my cock in his
fingers, asking, "What happen to the  condom?" I nod at it lying floppily in
the sand. Chuckling, he  guides my cock to his asshole and sits on it all
the way until he's sitting  in my lap. My cock starts getting real hard again
right away. Ahh, youth! I  lift up and get my arms around his waist as
Charlie uses his hands, one on  either side of him, to lift up and down on my
cock a half dozen times or  so. Collapsing back on my legs, he leans the back
of his head on my  shoulder, his back against my chest, saying, "Hug me,
Dylan." I mutter, "I am  hugging you," and he says, "Tighter."

After a minute being  snugly up Charlie's ass my dick's really hard again
so I push him forward and,  half standing, I fuck his ass for another three
or four minutes hearing the  familiar, "Slap, slap, slap," but I lose my
nerve when I think I hear someone  saying something on the sidewalk above us.

Pulling out of him, I pull up my  swimsuit, saying, "Pull your suit up,
Charlie." Standing so I can look  around,  but don't see anyone. Charlie stands,
asking, "What?" I go, "Oh nothing. I thought I heard something." He leans
against  me, "That was so cool! I loved getting fucked in a thunder storm." I
put my arm  across his shoulders leading him out of the alcove, saying,
"Yeah, I bet we both  remember this for a long time."

He shrugs away from my  arm as we walk towards the regular sandy beach,
saying, "Somebody will see us."  I laugh, "You're not worried about screwing in
broad daylight, but you are  concerned someone will see two buddies with an
arm across one of their  shoulders." He goes, "That's right, but damn that
felt good! Do more  smacking on my ass when you're fucking me next time,
Dylan. That's fucking  sexy." I'm like, "You're 'topping' next time or there
won't be a next time." He  goes, "Ha, you're too easy. Um, too nice actually.

I can whine a little and you  let me have my way." I go, "Not next time,
whiner. I want that big dick of yours  inside my ass." He mimics what I've said
to him a couple of times, "Well  see."

Things  are drying quickly in the hot sun as we start walking back to our
chairs.  We're walking near the top of the beach and see wafts of steam
coming off  the black top streets. "Let's walk near the water, Charlie," and  we
go down to where the waves run out on the beach, then go in for a swim.

Waiting for a good wave to surf on, he says, "Damn! I wanted  to see your cum
load in the condom." I mumble, "It was much larger than either of yours." He
 smirks, muttering, "I'm so sure," and we surf in to shore and then walk
down to  where our families are.

The parents  and fiancés apparently took their chairs and stuff back to the
condos,  probably when it looked like it would rain. Chubby's in the ocean
with Jesse and  Ellie. Dodger, Norman, and Vinnie are reliving this
morning's deep sea  fishing trip. Charlie sits in my beach chair so I use Chubby's
and we hear about  Dodger and Vinnie getting wicked sea sick. Only Norman did
any actual fishing.  They tell us there isn't anything to compare
seasickness to; it's totally  debilitating. Dodger goes, "Vinnie and I were helped
inside the cabin where we  sat on chairs with our chest and heads on the table
unable to so much as lift  our heads." Vinnie goes, "That's after we threw
up our lunch and one of our  nuts." Ironic that Norman, who's never even
seen an ocean, was the one with  the sea legs.

After the storm we have  a normal afternoon on the beach. Then around six
o'clock I ask Chubby,  "What's the deal with dinner tonight?" He goes, "We're
on our own tonight. Let  the Moms and their guys have a night to
themselves," and Charlie says,  "We're going out to eat too." Jesse says, "It's a
restaurant my parents take us  to every year. Some joint in Cape May that has a
Cape Cod lobster dinner  that taste like seaweed. They cook everything on
hot rocks and seaweed covered  by a tarp. It's horrible." I shrug, "Why do you
guys go then?"  Charlie  says, "Oh, our parents are originally from New
England. Jessica and I go along  so we don't hurt their feelings." I say,
"We're from New England too, and I  agree with you about that kind of lobster
dinner. Waste of good lobsters." Ellie  says, "I'm not as nice as those guys.

I'm staying back here."

Taking advantage of  that opening, Chubby sets up a dinner date with Jesse,
which makes me give him a  dirty look. He goes, "Sorry, bro, but Dodger
said you were eating with those  guys." I look over at Dodger, who says, "Yeah,
you are. I just haven't gotten  around to telling you yet." I say, "You
mean you haven't gotten around to  asking me yet." He gives me his sly smile,
saying, "If you prefer to  think of it like that, fine. How about having
dinner with me and the boys  tonight?" I say, "I'd love to, thanks for the
invitation." As Chubby and Jesse  discuss where and when to eat tonight, Dodger
comes over to my chair and squats  down next to me, saying, "We've hardly
seen you, and you're the only reason  I'd ever come this far for a beach." I
say, "Ya gotta admit the beach is far  superior to the Cape beaches." He goes,
"Most of them, yeah."

I reach over and get a  fistful of the too long hairs on top of his head,
asking, "Do you want me to cut  this for you?" He shakes his head, "I love
that, but I don't dare. Brownie  would shit his pants. He wants the grunts in
his unit looking alike,  haircut-wise." I ask, "Brownie's that E-6 guy?"

Dodger nods his head, "Yeah, I'm  in tight with him and I'm gonna keep it that
way. He says I'm his right hand man  and oh my, do I get away with a lot."

He glances around quickly, then lowers his  voice, "After we eat tonight
we're doing a three-way." To be a ball buster, I  ask, "Oh, you, Vinnie, and
Norman?" He laughs, "Nice try, but no. It's gonna be  you, me, and Vinnie.

Maybe Norman will join in. That's up to him." Then he adds,  "Vinnie's real
excited about it." I glance at Vinnie, who looks about as excited  as a cadaver.


Dodger looks so cool  with his bright eyes full of life and mischief,; it
makes me feel a little excited about a  three-way. He stands, pats my
shoulder, and says, "Oh yeah, one other  thing: um, would you do the cooking
tonight. We bought chicken wings, and  what else Vinnie?" Vinnie says, "That's
all," so Dodger says to me, "Oh, that's  all we got so far. Maybe you and I
could stop at that grocery store near  your place." I ask, "Where's this
cooking taking place? Is there a grill at your  condo?" Dodger rubs his lips, then
asks, "Is there a  grill at our motel, Vinnie?" Vinnie rolls his eyes, then
says to me, "Dodger's  arranged for us to use your grill and eat, um, on
your deck." I'm shaking my  head chuckling. Dodger says, "Oh don't be like
that. I asked your mom and  she said, 'Sure'." I go, "It's settled then."



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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