Date: Sun, 22 May 2016 22:04:10 -0400 From: MGTBILL@aol.com Subject: DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME Chapter 26 DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME Chapter 26 by Donny Mumford Lying in bed I try convincing myself it's Thursday morning, but finally begrudgingly admit it's Friday and therefore the last day of our vacation. Dodger and the boys are probably already on their way to Disney World. Ha ha, I wish someone could secretly record their every move the next three or four days. Glancing out the window I see the sun shining brightly, so that's good. In the twin bed next to mine the top of Chubby's head is all I can see of him; he's pulled the covers up against the air conditioning. Well yeah, it's freakin' freezing in here! What's up with that? Sliding out of bed I check the thermostat and see it's set for 64 degrees. Jesus! I push it up to 71 as I'm vaguely remembering Chubby fiddling with the thermostat in the dark last night. Too much to drink again, bro? Well, I'm up now so I'll do my bathroom stuff, including a long hot shower. In the shower I realize, surprisingly, I don't have much of a headache and I'm feeling okay. And, wow, that was quite a four-way sex-a-thon last night with the beer, cigarettes, and bottle of booze... is it possible I'm still drunk? Nah, I seriously doubt that, I didn't drink that much. This whole week though Chubby and I have been doing too much boozing. Turning twenty-one has something to do with that of course. After the shower, standing naked in my bedroom I'm trying to find something clean to put on. Ha, I find a t-shirt of Chubby's with a smart-ass message on the front that reads: Remember when I asked you for your opinion? then under that, 'Yeah, me neither!' Oh, here's a sleeveless t-shirt of mine, one of my old favorites actually. Faded lettering on the front reads: IRONY and under that 'the opposite of wrinkly'. Ha ha! I put that on along with my baggy 'boardie' swim trunks that are too big for me, the legs extending below my knees for the perfect intentionally sloppy look. Wearing my Oakley sunglasses indoors, I go into the kitchen and just to be safe swallow a couple of Advil. Thinking about last night's crazy sex I grin while making a mug of coffee. Out on the deck I glance at my wristwatch, and I'm like, 'Oh balls, I can't fuckin' believe this! It's almost noon!' No wonder I'm feeling so good. The negative side of all that sleep is I've sacrificed another morning on the beach; our last morning this year! Tomorrow morning doesn't count because we'll be packing up and heading home. Sitting on the deck drinking my coffee, I'm daring myself to light a cigarette, and then patting myself on the back for resisting that self destructive urge. Going back inside to wake Chubby, I'm thinking he probably got over-served again last night on his date... shots of bourbon probably. Shaking his shoulder, "Bro, it's after twelve o'clock! We're wasting our last day here." He nods his head, muttering, "Could you please get me a gallon of orange juice and a bottle of Advil?" Heh heh, when will he ever learn?! We don't have a gallon of OJ so I bring him a half-full quart carton, and the Advil bottle. He sits on the edge of the bed taking Advil while gulping down the rest of the orange juice; then, standing he hugs me before silently going into the bathroom leaving the door open behind him. I go back out on the deck and there's Charlie on his deck eating a large sub sandwich. Lunch time I guess. He doesn't see me because he's sitting at the table with his back to me. Walking to the front of our deck I stare over at him feeling a strange fondness for him. Man, his hair is really cool the way it gets curly at the ends. It might be too pretty for a guy his age though. It'd be an awesome look for a kid in his middle teen years though; the teeny-bopping girls creaming in their undies when Charlie says 'Hi' to them. Mostly though I'm a fan of short hair for guys our age. That's just my opinion of course, and I say that even though I'm presently considering growing a stubby ponytail like Vinnie's. Whether I follow through on that remains to be seen because many of my best intentions go up in smoke. Charlie's really chowing down on that sub sandwich, which reminds me that I'm hungry too. I call over, "How 'bout sharing that sub, stud." He turns around grinning, his cheeks full of the sub sandwich. Getting up he walks to the front of his deck swallowing, then calling over, "Where ya been, Dylan?" I yell back, "How about that sub. It looks like too much for a slim lad like yourself to consume." He waves me over, so I stick my head inside the French doors, yelling, "Chubby?" and he walks out of the bathroom drying his hair, mumbling, "Please don't yell." I mumble, "Sorry," then," I'm going over to the Charlie's for a minute." He nods his head as I add, "Come over when you can." Walking across the alley and up the steps to Charlie's place I find he's mostly done half the sub. Putting my hand on his shoulder, I ask "Is that an Italian sub, sometimes known as a hoagie?" He goes, "Yep, it's an Italian sub with hot cherry peppers." I go, "My favorite, how'd you know?" He motions at the untouched half, "Be my guest, Dylan. There's another whole sub in the refrigerator compliments of my sister's boyfriend, Tyrone. He took the rest of the subs for the guys on the beach." I sit down opposite Charlie and pick up the half sub, asking, "Tyrone is mingling with your parents, you say?" He goes, "Yeah, last night he and Sis had a sit-down, heart-to-heart talk with my parents and I guess they talked it out, or something." Charlie goes inside to get us sodas and the other sub from the refrigerator. As I eat the second half of the first sub sandwich he finishes off half of the second sub offering the other half to me. Even though it's a damn good sub I don't want the other half. We see Chubby slowly coming down the stairs of our deck and Charlie nods at the half sub, saying, "Maybe Jeff will want it." Then he goes, "How about my haircut, Dylan? You're not the kind of prick that says he'll do something and then doesn't do it, are you?" I go, "Jeez, how'd ya find that out about me, Charles?" He goes, "No, seriously, you gotta do it for me 'cause, Dude, I wouldn't know what to tell a barber. I haven't been to one in ten years." Chubby joins us, mumbling a question, "Just so I'm sure; we only turn twenty-one once in our entire lives, right?" I go, "Yep, as far as I know. The novelty of it should wear off in time." He mutters, "Good!" then, looking at the half sub, he asks, "Is anyone gonna eat that?" Charlie passes it to Chubby, "Be my guest, Jeff. Ya want a soda?" Chubby takes a bite and then says, with his mouth full, "Yeah, thanks, and God bless you, young man. Um, a glass of ice with the soda would be great." Charlie goes inside as I'm grinning at Chubby's distress, then rubbing it in a little, I go, "Ya know, I don't feel all that bad, Chub; in fact I feel pretty damn good." He barks out a laugh spewing some Italian sub on the wax paper it came in. Then he goes, "Don't give me any shit about me having too many shots, bro. I've finally learned my lesson; from now on I'll only have shots when you do." Chuckling at the way Chubby's devouring that sandwich, I say, "It's fortunate I'm feeling this good because Charlie wants me to give him a haircut." Charlie comes out passing a plastic cup of ice and a can of Pepsi to Chubby, asking, "What haircut should I get, Jeff?" Chubby shrugs, "Whatever Dylan recommends, Charlie. I'd go with that." I tell Charlie, "You and me will look online for pics of cool hair styles that college guys are rockin' this year. That'll help you decide; I don't want to decide for you." Chubby finishes the sub, pours half the can of Pepsi in the plastic cup of ice and drinks it, burps, chuckles, then says, "I'll see you two awesome dudes on the beach, okay?" I go, "Yeah, we won't be long," and Chubby goes, "Because I love you Dylan, I'm gonna carry your chair and the beach bag to the beach for you." I go, "Awww, thanks, Chub." He's like, "Thanks for the sandwich and Pepsi, Charlie. It hit the spot, bro," and he takes the cup and can of Pepsi with him as he goes down the steps. I watch Chubby walking to the Volvo, then say to Charlie, "Okay, let's go online and look at guy's hair styles." He's like, "Um, I've been meaning to ask you: why do you call your brother 'Chubby'. That sounds kind of rude." I explain it to him as we go inside and fire up his laptop. Charlie sits at the desk as I'm telling him, "Go to Google and type in, 'latest popular college guy's haircuts', or anything like that." There are a plethora of hair sites for guys and girls online. We look at a half dozen sites and conclude the majority show a haircut variations of very short hair on the sides and back with the hair on top anywhere from short to very long, some models with elaborately moussed hair on top. Some look ridiculous and others look cool, but you need a very thick head of hair for most of the hair styles pictured. And you'd need to be a bit of an asshole to wear some of the other more outlandish ones. Of course most of the models are hot looking guys so we get sidetracked critiquing the cutest/hottest guys. Finally I'm like, "The haircuts, Charlie! Forget who the hottest guys are!" He hems and haws, finally choosing one of the styles that I happen to like too, which I purposely didn't mention beforehand because I wanted him to chose on his own. It's basically a variation of a popular middle school haircut; anyway when I was in middle school it was popular. Shorter hair on sides and back with longer hair on top, but not ridiculously long hair. The top hair gets combed forward and flipped up in front. In this version for college-age guys the hair is quite a bit longer then the middle school version, but it's the same idea. Charlie says, "This is totally off topic, but I'd like to do your toenails and feet again. That's my fetish." I say, "Yeah, I know. Um, sure, maybe if we get an opportunity. The foot and leg massage is pretty sweet actually." Standing behind Charlie at his computer, I run my fingers through his hair. Uh oh, while there's a lot of hair on his head, it's very fine hair and doesn't match the guy's hairdo in the picture. I can't recommend it for Charlie because I care that the finished haircut will be right for him. Guys like Sonny and Ryan, on the other hand, wouldn't give that a thought. They'd just cut it the way they wanted not caring if Charlie liked it or not. I'm not like that though. I say, "Um, I like your choice but I don't think you have the type hair that can support that style. You see how thick that guy's hair is?" He takes a deep breath, "Well, what the fuck should I get then?" As much as I like cutting hair, I'd just as soon pass on this haircut, but he won't let me." He shrugs saying, "You'll need to decide for me, Dylan." Oh balls! Not this again! It always comes down to me deciding for guys who have had long hair since they were like five years old and now want a new look, but they expect me to decide what it should be. It's happened to me like six or seven times before. Charlie gets up, saying, "I'm gonna smoke a joint outside while you decide." Swell! He gets a joint from his stash, that turns out to be in a sweat sock hidden at the back of his bureau drawer. Outside on the deck again, I smoke a cigarette while Charlie smokes his joint telling me about the guy in his neighborhood back home who sells grass and other illegal drugs. He's a postal worker who Charlie thinks might be gay because the guy hints around that there's more ways than one to pay for the drugs he sells. Charlie is vague about how much pot he smokes and when I ask if his neighbor, Ronny Tarleckie, smokes pot, Charlie claims he doesn't have any idea. Guess they're not close at all for real, and then I'm like, "Where is Ronny anyway? Isn't he suppose to be back today?" Charlie shrugs, "I haven't seen him and I hope I don't." I mumble, "Be nice, Charlie." Done his joint, Charlie goes inside and comes out with the same scissor and comb I used a few days ago. He takes off his extra-large t-shirt, sits in a chair, and says, "It's on you, Dylan. I'm gonna trust you." Oh brother! And look what I have to work with... utility scissors. They're sharp anyway. The longest hair I've ever cut was Dawg's, of posse boy infamy. He went from a long ponytail to a buzz cut early last summer. Other than Dawg, I can't recall cutting longer hair than Charlie's. His is still about seven inches long even though I cut two inches off earlier this week. Like I said, normally I'd be looking forward to doing this haircut, except neither of us knows what haircut will work for him, and I haven't the right equipment to do a short haircut anyway. Other than that everything's perfect. Combing through his hair the comb getting tangled in the curly part near the ends with Charlie saying, "See? Curly hair can be a bitch." I ask, "Are you stoned?" and he goes, "Not hardly, no." Well, I'm done agonizing about it, so I comb up a batch of hair on the side of his head and close the scissors close to his scalp, 'Scrunch' the scissors cut through the hair with nearly seven inches of pretty blond hair falling away to hit Charlie's shoulder then sliding off to land half in his lap and half down his bare back to the deck. Without either of us commenting, it's, "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch," for five minutes until the hair on the right side of his head is only about a half inch long. It looks silly next to the long hair all over the rest of his head. Charlie reaches up and feels the short hair, then mutters, "Good," and that's all he says as the scissors go, "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch," for the next fifteen minutes. I'm basically using the comb as the guide and the scissors as clippers. Actually it's reminiscent of Sonny giving me haircuts last summer using only scissors and comb. Like Sonny, I need to go over the same area two or three times to get it as even, or almost as even, as it would be using clippers with a guide. Instead of the twenty minutes it's taken me so far, clippers would do the same job in two minutes. I get into it though and by the time I've cut the hair down to a half inch on one side and the back of his head I'm strongly sensing my haircut fetish, and therefore enjoying myself. I've got half a boner in my pants as I start cutting the other side of Charlie's head. Cutting quicker now with more confidence I cut and watch his long blond hair detach from his head and slide off his shoulder leaving very short hair behind. This is sexually arousing to me by now. "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch," and then I go over the same area cutting it even shorter. I get into sort of a yummy trance with my dick boning-up so much I need to adjust it sideways in my swim suit to keep the tent in my lap at a minimum. Charlie finally breaks my trance, asking, "How's it look, Dylan?" Most of my trance drifts away, disappearing into wherever it came from, as I mumble, "It looks short, Charlie, whaddaya think?" He goes, "Duh! I mean, are you satisfied with it?" I go, "Yeah," then I say, "Now all I need to figure out is what to do with the hair on top of your head." He goes, "Yep, you do. Make it cool-looking." Balls! Just like that, huh? During his haircut Charlie mostly was smelling the back of his wrist which means either he was nervous or blasé about the haircut. Ha ha, either one. Well, the good news is Charlie's hair seems thicker the shorter I cut it, so I'm able to somewhat duplicate his chosen style online. I cut the long hair down to about three inches on top of his head, then ask, "Do you have any hair mousse or tonic?" He says, "No, but Jessica does," and he goes in to get it while I rub my semi-hard dick. It feels good although my boner's gone down significantly now that the heavy cutting has been done. He comes out and hands me the mousse. I spread some in his hair, then comb it this way and that before cutting some areas shorter, then combing it this way and that again. It's not suppose to be a 'neat' look. It should look a little tousled with hairs at the crown sticking up and the rest of the hairs slightly combed forward with the bangs about two and a half inches long, combed up and slightly back. I get it just the way I want it and when the mousse dries it gives his hair additional body without looking like there's anything in his hair. Huh, not bad. Patting his shoulder, I mumble, "Go inside and take a look." He's inside for two minutes before coming out smiling and running his fingers through the hair on top of his head roughing it up a little more, saying, "Perfect. It's perfect, Dylan! You rock, dude." I go, "Good, thanks! Sit down again, I need to do a little outlining around your ears and the hairline in back." There's only so much detail I can do with these clunky scissors. The trimming clippers would make quick work of this, but I take three or four minutes doing little snips and when done it does look surprisingly good considering what I have to work with. I know the difference trimming clippers would make, but the vast majority of people don't. And anyway I'm the fanatic about haircutting, not them. I'm also very pleased with myself and give myself another pat on the back. Charlie looks older with this hairdo, but he still doesn't look like he's twenty; now he looks maybe seventeen or eighteen instead of fifteen or sixteen. As we're sweeping his cut hairs into a mound, Charlie's very chatty. He's saying how happy he is his haircut turned out the way he envisioned it and goes into other times he was determined to get a short haircut, but he never worked up the nerve to follow through with it. I hold the dustpan as he sweeps the pile of hair off the deck onto the dustpan, then inside I dump his hair in the trash basket and he wraps his arms around me from behind giving me a hug. I'm more than a little randy after the haircutting so I twist around facing him and hold his face between my hands giving him a wet sloppy kiss on the lips. He opens his mouth a little and our tongues slide together as my cock gets harder, moving in my swimsuit, pushing out a lap-tent. My fingers rub up the back of Charlie's just-barbered head feeling the half inch hair envisioning when it was seven inches long a mere half hour ago. My haircut fetish is a very weird thing; a thing I have no control over but I mostly like it anyway. Charlie hasn't a clue about that obviously. He's merely a sexual lad without much opportunity to relieve his desires; that is, previous to us meeting. I'm guessing he'd prefer we have more sex then we had this week and he's not going to pass up this opportunity that I sort of initiated by giving him that sloppy sexy kiss. It's works for me too because I'm very much in the mood for sex after doing his haircut, plus Charlie's an excellent side-sex buddy. For a couple of minutes it's a rough and sort of desperate make-out with our teeth scraping together at times while we're sucking on each other's lips and tongue, breathing noisily until he says, "I know you's rather 'bottom', but will you fuck me, Dylan?" I say, "No, it's your turn, but I promise to return the favor before I leave town." He goes, "Okay, don't forget you promised!" He didn't put up much of an augment as he turns me around pulling down my swim suit to just below my buttocks. The wet head of his cock is at my asshole in a second, then it's his pressure method of entry instead of a nice hip hump. The head of his cock spreads, spreads, spreads the lips of my asshole and then, "Ahhh," it's in. Without hesitating the head of his boner continues the trip up my ass. The swollen head gets even bigger as it forces the walls of my rectum to expand inch by inch. It hurts yes, but at the same time it's a huge turn-on for me making my shoulders shudder. In fifteen seconds I feel his shaved groin area hit my butt cheeks and when he's tight against my ass his left arm goes around the front of my neck. This rough sex is mostly how we've been doing it all week. We're both enamored of this kind of rough sex pulling our partners head back dominantly and mostly seeking pleasure for ourselves rather than thinking too much about the other. Good hot sexy side-sex, in other words. His forearm lifts my chin abruptly yanking it up as he humps hard against my butt cheeks, grunting out, "How's that feel?" With the back of my head on his shoulder, I gasp, "Good," and he pulls his boner back, then ramps it up my ass and I almost climax. I was aroused by the haircutting to start with, and now this dominant fuck almost has me blowing my load way too soon. Damn, it's an awesome sensation being right on the verge of blasting off, then having it subside leaving me shaking with sexy chills zipping up and down my spine. Like most guys our age Charlie's a strong kid and he has no problem keeping the pressure under my chin as his other arm goes around my stomach pulling me tightly against him. The sense of being dominated grows and I do a wimpy moan of sexual arousal. Arching his back, like last time he pulls me up on my toes and then he thrusts his boner a number of times back and forth in my ass slapping his lower belly and crotch against my buttocks, "Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap!" Then, breathing deeply, he grinds his hips nestling the side of his face against mine. The short bristly hairs around his ear scrape my cheek as a drop of sweat from his forehead slides down to drip wetly on my ear. Charlie's sweating and smelling good as his bicep muscles tightens under my chin and he yanks up pulling my head back further every now and then. Awesomely dominant! Getting his breath back it's then two solid minutes of thrusting with me squirming in his grasp and moaning at the incredible sensations coming from my rectum and from the throbbing head of my boner. My boner's stretches tightly and moves from my belly to stick straight out. Charlie's doing deliberate hard thrust up my ass now as his hard cock gets even fatter. He grunts with each thrust as I moan, "Aaah! Aaah! Aaah! OOOh!" He straightens up taking his arm from under my chin to grip the back of my neck squeezing it and pushing me forward while still hammering his cock up my ass. The arm around my waist comes away too and now he's pushing me forward with both hands and I go onto my hands and knees. Charlie takes a step back pulling his boner out of me, then smacks my ass, "Smack! Smack! Smack!" I go, "Oooh," when his boner gets slammed back up my ass, and, "Slap, slap, slap," for another two minutes before he's leaning against my ass humping and shooting a strong stream of cum inside me. I groan, gasp for air feeling as though I'm in the vast blackness of space as my cock explodes with a spray of cum followed immediately by a fast moving creamy stream that splatters on the tile floor wetting both my knees with cum spray, then another stream as I try not to drown in a sea of sexual pleasure. I'm sucking in air, my eyes tightly closed savoring the buzzing sensations all around my groin, inside my thighs, and the electric sizzling in my rectum. My back arches as I hiss out air between closed lips and my body does a last shudder as my fist squeezes out the last drops of cum from my nuts. Charlie takes a couple of steps back pulling his sloppy cock from my ass again, then he bumps into a stool knocking it over as he stumbles backwards into the kitchen bar. I'm swaying on my hands and knees taking deep breaths as the awesomeness of orgasm fades completely away leaving me sighing contentedly. One last exhale and I stagger up on my feet. That was one of the better climaxes I've had recently. For me, haircutting first and then Charlie's dominant sex made for a potent mix. With his cum running down the back of my legs I grin at him, mumbling, "Um, how'd you manage to do such a dominant fuck?" His head's down slightly as he smells the back of his hand, grinning at me with his eyes at the top of their sockets, mumbling, "Simple. I did it the way I wish someone would do it to me. That's how I fantasize getting fucked, although never by someone as good looking and cool as you. And now you owe me one, right?" I nod my head, then all of a sudden realize how crazily irresponsible we were to fuck right here in the kitchen. Anyone from the group of people on the beach living in this condo could have popped in to use the bathroom facilities. It makes me glance out to the deck, then say, "We're nuts, Charlie. Let's clean up before someone walks in." He goes, "Oh yeah, another good idea by you." First I use paper towels and a spray bottle of Windex to wipe my cum off the floor. As I do that Charlie gets a washcloth to wipe his dick and then he wipes my ass and the back of my legs. I dry myself with paper towels, then we get our swimsuits pulled up. Charlie looks around. "Did we get everything, Dylan?" I mutter, "Yeah, I think so. Jesus, we gotta be a little smarter about it next time, huh?" He goes, "I'll say, just think how awkward it would have been if my Mom walked in on us." I go, "I don't even want to think about that, and awkward would not come close to describing that particular scenario." We both nod our heads looking at each other and then do a nice hug with his body feeling really good in my arms. As we let go of each other I rub his hair and he goes, "No, don't! You'll mess it up, Dylan." Walking outside to the deck, I'm like, "Dude, I gotta tell ya, that was some awesome sex in there." He says, "Really? I'm not very experienced, but you thought it was really hot, huh?" All 'tops' appreciate compliments and he deserves some, so I go, "Nuclear hot. Seriously, I really liked it." I almost tell him about me getting aroused from the haircutting, but why complicate things. I do feel affectionate towards him though, so I give him another hug with a kiss on his lips. He laughs, "What'd you just tell me? We gotta stop being reckless." I go, "Nah, just a kiss. I'm following your advice from the beach earlier in the week. You know, that time I complained you were staring at me too much. Like you said then, they all know we're gay, so what do they expect?" He murmurs, "See? I've got some wisdom too," then he grabs a beach towel someone left on the deck railing to dry. Putting it under his arm and with my hand on his shoulder we go down the steps. As we walk toward the beach he puts his arm across my shoulders, saying, "We'd definitely be lovers if we lived closer." I go, "Undoubtedly, Charlie," and he puts his head close to mine, whispering, "I love you already." I go, "Right back at you, bro." Following Charlie onto the beach I'm thinking his haircut is positively a better look for him and, more importantly, he agrees. The thing is I actually care what the guys I give haircuts to think about their new haircut, and now I'm concerned what his parents and sister will think about it. From what I can tell from just one week, it appears Charlie's been babied by his mother as her little baby boy with his pretty hair and baby face. Yeah, he has some sparse pale facial hair, not much but some, and yet he still has a baby face. It's sort of ironic that I should care what these, basically strangers, think of the haircuts I gave Charlie. The guys who cut my hair wouldn't give a thought about that. That's especially true for Sonny and Ryan. Both cut my hair the way they feel like doing it, and if I or anyone else doesn't like it they couldn't give a shit less. They'd laugh about it, pushing my head roughly, asking, 'what's wrong with it... ha ha ha!. It's my fault as much as their's I guess. I'm a push over where my haircuts are concerned, although I'm changing that as of that last haircut from Ryan. We're walking up to our large group on the beach when Charlie's mother glances over, then takes off her sunglasses to gawk at her son. Speechless for a second, then she yells, "Oh nooo, Charlie! I didn't mean for you to get all your hair cut off." She grabs her husband's arm getting him to look over as she tells me, "Dylan, I'm very disappointed in you." Now everybody looks, including Tyrone, who I'm seeing for the first time. Whoa, nice looking guy! He stands up and says, "You look good, Charlie," as my Mom, with a strained smile, says to Charlie's Mom, "Dylan only gives haircuts the way he's asked to," then she calls to Charlie, "Didn't you ask Dylan for that haircut, Charlie?" Charlie goes, "Yep, exactly like this." His mother's staring sternly at my Mom as Bud supports me, saying, "Nice haircut, Dylan. It looks good, Charlie," and Mr. Barns agrees. "Well done Charlie and Dylan, don't either of you pay any attention to my sweet wife." Apparently Charlie wasn't paying any attention to her as he grins, saying, "I love this haircut, and Dylan did it with only a pair of old scissors. What do you think, Jesse?" His sister goes, "You look cool, bro," and Ellie says, "I agree with Tyrone, you rock, Charlie." Well, I guess it's 'fuck you', Mrs. Barns, huh? Chubby, always supportive of me, goes, "That's exactly the haircut I want next time, bro," making Charlie beam and Mrs. Barns do one of Charlie's shrugs, mumbling, "I guess I'm totally outnumbered. It's just that's it's such a big change, ya know? But it looks, um, nice, Charles." He chuckles, saying, "You nagged me to get a haircut, Mom. Be careful what you wish for." To her credit Mrs. Barns is trying to recover from her initial negativity while my Mom and Tris are still bristling a little at her criticism of me. Heh heh, if Charlie's mom doesn't want to get her hair pulled out by the roots in a cat fight she better watch what she says about me in front of my mom. Charlie's cool hair style doesn't last long though because everyone in the group under the age of twenty-three goes in for a swim. I would have said, under the age of twenty-two except Tyrone just turned twenty-three and he's in the ocean with us. A little later I see Mrs. Barns laughing with the Moms so it's all good. Obviously I feel really good that everyone was on Charlie's and my side. He does too as he swims up to me and gives me a face to face hug. Tyrone's looking at us with a sweet smile. Ya know what? I need to talk to Tyrone alone later and see what's up with him. For now I hug Charlie back and then dunk him under water. We're all doing some grab-ass in the water. It's mostly hetero grab-ass except for Charlie and me, and then us guys do a little body surfing with the hetero guys trying to show the girls how it's done. Charlie and I don't need to waste time with that. We're in the water messing around a good fifteen minutes after the other guys wade out to do some sunbathing. I'm having a good time goofing with Charlie, wrestling with him and exchanging lots of bodily contact. Mostly we're chasing a red rubber ball that we found bobbing in the water. Some little kid is probably wondering what happened to his ball. Charlie looks so different with the water flattening his short hair to his skull; he's like a different, more interesting looking guy. We finally have enough ocean for now and as we're wading in towards the beach someone takes hold of my arm. I turn and see a guy who's vaguely familiar, so I go, "Hey, wassup?" trying to figure out if I know him. He goes, "Remember me? I'm Lee Reins." I slowly nod my head, still not making the connection. He goes, "I met you at Chickie and Pete's bar the other night." I'm frowning as he says, "I sat in your brother's seat and drank half your beer." I go, "Oh, yeah. How ya doing." He laughs, "You remember me drinking your beer, huh?" There's something 'off' with this guy but I can't put my finger on exactly what it is." He asks, "Where's your brother?" Charlie's just standing next to be looking at the guy, but when I start wading toward the beach he does too. As we all walk I ask Lee, "My brother? Do you know Jeff?" Lee goes, "No, I don't know him, but I saw you guys in the ocean together earlier this week." I point up the beach at Chubby who's saying something to Ellie that's making her laugh. "There he is with the girl in the white bikini." He looks, "Um, no, your other brother. The younger one with long blond hair." He means Charlie obviously, but I act obtuse. "I don't have a brother with long blond hair, or any kind of hair for that matter. Just him," and I point to Chubby again. Lee's walking step by step with me, Charlie's on my other side not saying anything. That's the way Charlie was with Chubby and me that first afternoon on their deck. He's apparently quietly shy with people until he gets to know them, then he's the opposite of shy, or at least he was with me. On the beach walking to our chairs Lee stays with us, asking, "Well who were you with that had long blond hair?" I flick my thumb at Charlie, "Him, except he doesn't have long blond hair anymore, and he's not my brother." Lee frowns as Charlie looks at him, then runs his fingers through his short hair, mumbling, "Dylan cut it for me." Lee grabs my arm, this time squeezing it hard, "Why the fuck did you do that?" I pull my arm away, saying, "Why do you care? What's it to you, and don't grab my fucking arm!" At first he has this 'look' in his eyes that startles me. There's a red blotch appearing on each cheek too, as a vein pulses in his forehead. I'm sort of staring at him as he relaxes, then apologizes. "I'm sorry for grabbing your arm, Dylan. Damn, I'm one of those touchy-feely guys. It's just that, um," and he talks to Charlie, telling him, "You looked so cool with that long hair. I'm a photographer and was going to ask if I could maybe take some pictures of you for a magazine advertisement I'm working on." Lee walks behind me so he can get next to Charlie. With his hand lightly squeezing the back of Charlie's neck, he adds, "Yeah, I need pictures of attractive young guys on the beach. It's for 'Boys Life' magazine." Charlie goes, "Really? Would I get paid?" Lee shrugs, "I'm not sure about that, but probably. I'll buy you a beer for sure." Charlie goes, "I'm not twenty-one," and Lee says," I never thought you were. How 'bout pot, do you smoke a little weed? I could get you some of that." We're at the group now with Charlie's mom staring at Lee, asking, "Who's your friend, Charles?" He shrugs, of course, then says, "He wants to take pictures of me for a magazine." Lee's an average looking guy about three or four inches taller than Charlie and me. I gotta admit he has an extra sexy looking sparse and curly light-brown beard that he maintains fashionably short, and he has very pretty bright brown eyes. He's wearing a stylish bathing suit and he has a nice build except for way too much chest hair. There's also a tacky gold chain partially hidden in all that curly dark hair. Hairy legs too. Lee holds out his hand to limply shake Mrs. Barns' hand introducing himself, explaining, "It's an advertisement for South Jersey resort areas. Charlie has a certain 'look' about him that sort of screams 'beach boy', or he did before he got his hair cut. Now, I don't know." Mr. Barns says, "Thanks for your interest but we don't want our son being a male model. Right, Charlie?" Charlie mumbles, "Not if it doesn't pay anything." I go to sit in my chair, but Charlie giggles and sits in it first. Chubby's giving Lee a suspicious look, so I say, "Well, sorry it didn't work out, Lee. Maybe we'll see you at the bar tonight." He does that thing where he makes a box with the thumb and forefinger of both hands looking through the opening like he's looking through the lens of a camera, saying, "I might still be able to make this work; the advertising firm could probably come up with a couple of hundred dollars for an hour of Charlie's time. I'm not sure, but when his hair dries my make-up guy can probably do something with it." Lee's pushy and confident, adding, "Charlie has that All-American look about him, don't ya think? What do you say, Charlie?" Charlie's interested now, "Two hundred bucks for an hour? Yeah, why not." His parents exchange 'looks' like, 'We don't like it, but what the hell, he's not our little boy anymore...' Lee says, "Okay then, let's see how a few trial shots turn out. I think the camera is going to love you, Charlie. The equipment's in my van parked one block over. How about if you come with me now and I'll take some basic shots of you here on the beach and email them to the ad agency." Charlie gets up, obviously flattered, but mostly interested in the money. His father says, "You go with your brother, Jessica," and she goes, "Dad, he'll be fine." I say, "I'll go with him," and Lee says, "Oh, okay. I'll take some shots of you too, Dylan." Chubby holds up his cell phone and I nod at him. He's telling me to text him if I need him, but I'm beginning to think Lee might be who he says he is. The camera equipment will be interesting. Is it professional or a cell phone, ya know? We go up the beach to the street and over one block with Lee walking next to Charlie, ahead of me. Lee's got his hand on Charlie's shoulder, talking quietly to him. I hear Charlie say, "Yeah, I think I know the place you mean," and for some reason I think of the alcove off the sandy beach where there's broken shells, sand grass, and stones where the beach ends. He couldn't mean there though; not with two or three of Charlie's condoms on the ground. Ha ha, maybe Lee could take pictures of the condoms for his ad about the South Jersey shore. Lee stops at a late model two-door Chevrolet van, and when he opens the back doors I peer in and sure enough there's lots of photographic equipment. That doesn't necessarily mean Lee's involved in advertising, although at least he was telling the truth about him having the equipment for it. During the five-minute walk Lee apparently won over Charlie, as he goes, "Wow, Lee, cool stuff." Lee brings out a camera and set it at the edge of the van explaining how it works, telling Charlie one lens cost $3000, "So don't drop that, buddy," he says to Charlie as he gives him another squeeze at the back of his neck. There's a bus stop with a bench across the street from the Van. Lee has Charlie sit on the bench as he takes some shots of him. Then they huddle close together looking at the results on the viewer screen. Charlie laughs pointing at one of the pictures as Lee gives Charlie's shoulders a squeeze. He lets Charlie take some shots of him and they scrutinize the results with Lee critiquing how the shot would have been better. This goes on using various cameras for a tedious half hour with Lee paying no attention to me whatsoever, and after a while neither does Charlie. Oh he occasionally asks me, "Take a look at this, Dylan. Can you believe this cost $11,000?" but then he's right back huddling with Lee, who's full of flattery for Charlie. He's also true to his touchy-feely self-description constantly touching Charlie and even adjusting Charlie's bathing suit a little lower for one shot. If Charlie hadn't emulated me and shaved his pubic hairs some of them would have been showing the way Lee adjusted the bathing suit. I had to snort out a laugh at the look on Lee's face when he couldn't get Charlie's bathing suit down low enough for a pubic hair shot. That's also when my 'bullshit alert' began ringing. Lee is something other than a photographer for 'Boy's Life' magazine. Not that I've ever seen that magazine, assuming it even exits. Finally Lee puts his cameras and lens carefully back in their cases, secured so they won't move, and then he and Charlie get their cellphones out exchanging information. Lee passes Charlie some money when he thinks I'm not looking, but it's pretty obvious when you pass something from your hand to their hand. Then Lee's saying something to Charlie I can't hear, their heads close together and actually rubbing forehead to forehead. Charlie laughs and pats Lee's shoulder, saying, "Yeah, I'm sure I know where it's at. See you then, and thanks a million, Lee!" Lee waves at me, saying to me, "Hope to see you at Chickie and Pete's tonight, Dylan," then, with Lee in the drivers seat and Charlie standing close to the door, Lee puts his arm across Charlie's shoulders again whispering something, and they both laugh. They bump fists with Charlie saying, "Dude, you rock," and Lee mussing Charlie's hair before he drives away. Charlie's smiling watching the van disappear around the corner as I stare at him. He nods his head, like he's confirming something to himself, then turns around grinning at me. I ask, "What was all the whispering about?" Charlie goes, "Um, nothing important. Just some photography humor." I go, "Oh, so you know photography humor already." and he's like, "Jesus Christ, you're jealous, aren't you?" I'm serious when I say, "No, I'm not jealous, but what was he telling you?" He shrugs, then pulls a fifty-dollar bill from his pocket, smugly saying, "He's gonna call me and set up a shoot at his studio. That's all. Lee says I could make up to five bills, as in five hundred bucks. Whaddaya think about that?" I say, "I'm not sure exactly what to think, but there's something weird about that guy." As we're walking back to the beach Charlie's shaking his head, saying, "There's nothing weird about him. He's a photographer and a cool guy. And, hey, he says maybe there's a possibility I can get you in on the shoot too." I go, "Why would he say that?" Charlie looks at me, "Because I asked him to. I thought we could have some pictures taken together for the magazine and we'd have something to keep us linked together. Lee said it depends on how my first solo shoot goes later this afternoon. So I might be able to talk him into including you for tonight's shoot on the boardwalk." I say, "Charlie, you are not going on any solo shoot with him." He smirks, "Lee planned on you saying that because he thinks we're boyfriends. He told me it's a solo shoot or no shoot, and I'm gonna do it solo, but thanks for looking out for me. This fifty bucks, by the way, is for the shots he took of me here. Lee says there's money in modeling for someone with my looks." Oh brother, but why's it my business? Back at the chairs Charlie's parents are curious about the photographer and Charlie gives them a vanilla version of the half hour or so he spent with Lee. I'm not in a position to dispute anything basically because I didn't hear what was said for the most part. My impression is that Lee was too, um, familiar with his touching of Charlie. I'd feel awkward mentioning that though considering the way Charlie and I are fairly familiar with touching each other too. Charlie leaves it very vague whether he's going to meet with Lee again. Soon everyone goes about their business. Charlie and I have another swim without me mentioning Lee because I'm afraid it would seem as though I'm jealous of him, like Charlie claimed. After our swim Charlie and I dry off, then sit in beach chair without much to say. Chubby and Ellie are off for a walk while Mr. and Mrs. Barns left the beach around three o'clock, then the Moms plus the fiancés go up to get a cold mug of beer at a bar looking out on the beach at 34th street. I'm trying to figure out if I have a right to interfere with Charlie getting involved further with this guy, Lee, or if I'm making a mountain out of a mole hill acting like Charlie's big brother. I should probably mind my own business. Glancing over at some giggling I hear, there's Tyrone and Jesse snuggling on a blanket, so I get to take a close look at Tyrone. Man, he has a hot body with good muscle definition under his creamy light brown skin. Obviously he's not gay, but ya never know about the bisexual possibilities. I get surprised sometimes, like Sonny's brother, Devon, although it might be that Devon's curiosity was satisfied by our brief encounter. Charlie, his fingers messing with his hair, leans over asking me, "Would ya do me a favor, Dylan?" I nod, and he says, "Can we go to your place and you fix my hair like you did right after my haircut. Lee thinks it might be okay for my afternoon solo shoot, and please don't give me anymore big brother talk about that." Oh fuck! Making a 'face', I ask sarcastically, "What about Lee's make-up artist? Can't he fix your hair?" He says, "His guy is back at the studio. My first shoot is an outdoor one." I'm like, "I'll do your hair, but I'd like to come with you. Humor me, Charlie, okay?" He gives me an exasperated 'look' before hesitantly saying, "Sure, yeah, if you insist." He's not a very good liar, but how's he going to prevent me from coming with him? 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 ============================================ Please consider a tax deductible donation of any size to nonprofit Nifty to help with the expense of maintaining this ginormous free story site. Thank you very much. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html