Date: Mon, 18 Jan 2016 11:04:44 -0500
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME   Chapter 6

DYLAN'S VACATION BACK  HOME


Chapter  6


By  Donny Mumford


Waking  up Sunday morning I hear Robby in the bathroom taking a leak.

Getting out of bed  and joining him, we grin at each other leaning our heads over
for a good-morning  kiss. Done our business at the toilet we wash our face
and hands, then I put  toothpaste on my electric toothbrush and share it
with Robby. After rinsing with  minty mouthwash, the first spoken words this
morning come from Robby, "What time  is it?" Checking my wristwatch, I say,
"Quarter to nine," and he smiles,  mumbling, "Lets get back in bed." I've no
objection to that so we hop back in  bed and get under the covers snuggling
together. It's nice. I sigh happily and  Robby puts his lips to my ear,
whispering, "Can we mess around? You know, with  your mom home." I murmur, "Sure,
she can't hear us." We do some slow kissing  while rubbing our hands over
each other's body. Robby's body is so smooth, but  with hard areas of muscle
definition. Our lips suck together, then our tongues  slide together warm
and wet. We lick one another's face like puppy dogs,  grinning while lapping
away. It makes my penis hard, and Robby's too. I begin  stroking his boner as
we kiss. He grunts pushing my hand away, saying, "Turn  over on your
stomach, Dylan." I flop over and he gets between my legs lifting my  butt up with
a hand under each hip. Helping, I stick my ass up off the mattress,  then
reach under to stroke my own boner a few times. Damn that feels good, but
Robby pulls my arm away. He's apparently in the mood to be a bit rough this
morning, which I like a lot. When my ass is up the way he wants it, he
mumbles,  "That's good. Hold it there," and, "SMACK!" really hard with his open
hand on my  left butt cheek. I do a quiet yelp as my dick tightens further.

Robby's  doing everything slowly and deliberately, so I tell myself he's
being dominant.  You know, even if he isn't doing it intentionally. With his
hand on each of my  butt cheeks he spreads them apart stretching my anus
sideways making the opening  narrower.  Keeping my buttocks stretched sideways
Robby pushes a finger  inside me and absently rubs my prostate until I'm
squirming and moaning with my  face in the pillow. My walnut shaped prostate
gland is a hotbed of nerve endings  located about three quarters of Robby's
forefinger up my ass between my anus and  bladder. It's not hard to find.

Robby's rubbing the pad of his finger over it:  rubbing, rubbing, rubbing with my
buttocks muscles clenching as I'm squirming  and doing little exhales of
air trying not to shoot my load. Looking back at  Robby I see a mischievous
expression on his face. The soft pad of his finger  rubs, rubs, rubs making me
moan as a drool of precum slides from my hard cock to  drip onto the bed
sheet. I'm just about to climax, gasping, "No, um, Rob, I'm  gonna cum." He
goes, "That was quick," and he does two more rubs across my  prostate before
pulling his finger out, saying, "Keep your ass up, Dylan," then  murmurs,
"That was fun seeing you all hot and bothered."

I'm  breathing a little raggedly; taking deeper breaths waiting for my
prostate gland  to simmers down so I can relax a little. Robby goes back to
painfully stretching  my asshole sideways, then the head of his fat hard cock
pokes my anus and  squeezes in tightly and painfully past the stretched lips.

Holding my breath  against the pain, my face red and hot, I groan and squirm
on the bed. Once the  head pops past my sphincter Robby stops stretching my
butt cheeks sideways and  the anus lips hug snugly around the neck of his
boner. Much better now as the  pain reduces almost at once. Five seconds
later a glow of pleasure around my  anus sneaks up on me and makes my shoulders
shudder as I moan, "Ooh, mmmm,  ummm." Robby pulls his boner out of my ass
completely and pokes it right back  in. That feels good, like scratching a
wicked itch. He pulls it out and pokes it  back in a third time with
sensations from the thousands of nerve endings in my  anus sizzling with pleasure
making me moan into my pillow as my shoulders  shudder again. I wonder why
Robby's doing this and as if reading my mind, he  mutters, "I'm experimenting,
babe. Just messing around learning about your ass,  and toying with you a
little bit too. It's fun seeing how hot I can make my sexy  boyfriend." With
the neck of his hard cock past my sphincter muscle Robby  stretches my anus
sideways again using his thumbs, then he humps his hips  sending his boner two
inches up my ass and it feels so good I can hardly believe  it. He takes
his thumbs away and gives my ass a few more smacks, "Smack, smack,  smack!"

My  butt cheeks are stinging but other than that everything feels real good
back  there, especially compared to my aching stretched anus a minute ago.

I turn my  head looking back at Robby again. He's concentrating on my ass,
goosing my butt  cheeks, then giving one cheek  another "Smack!" Pulling his
boner back until the bulbous head is caught at the  rim of my asshole, he
glances at me with a little grin, saying, "A touch of  recreational sex,
babe," and he forces a finger in alongside the head of his  cock. My back arches
as I stifle a groan and he  leans forward pushing his boner and finger
inside three inches before sliding  his finger tightly out and I sigh again
because now my rectum feels really good.  Nicely full, but not too full, and oh
so good, "Mmmm, oooh, ooh." Robby humps  the last inch of boner inside me as
I squirm on the bed moving my knees a little  while tightening the muscles
in my ass. Robby does a couple of full thrusts back and forth getting
another  moan of pleasure from me, "Oooh, mmm." His awesome boner moving back and
forth  inside me feels so good and sexy, I murmur, "Feels good, fuck me
really hard  this morning, Rob." I liked  that dominant move of Robby's when he
forced his finger up my ass next to his  fat cock, but I can't help
wondering where he learned that little  maneuver.

Now  that fat boner's fully up my ass I feel it growing even fatter.

Robby's  leaning over me, partially supporting himself with one hand on the crown
of  my head pushing my face further into my pillow, and in this rather
dominant position he starts  fucking my ass creating, "Slap, slap,  slap, slap,"

sounds with every fast thrust when his crotch smacks against my  smacked
ass. Sexual sensations from my rectum's nerve endings react in  their
predictable manner coming alive to sparkle with sexual pleasure. Little  moans of
pleasure from Robby now as he pounds his boner up inside me with  a, "Umpth,"

at each thrust. His hand at the back of my head keeps me from moving  and I
can't hump back into his thrust as hard as I'd like, but it feels
especially sexy-good because there's definitely a touch of dominance  in Robby's
fucking this morning, and that's true whether he realizes it or not.  "Slap,
slap, slap, slap," "Ooooh, yeaaaah." He's fucking me at a nice steady  speed
with a little extra zip at the end when he smacks against my  buttocks.

His  hand continues pushing the back of my head, keeping my face buried in
the pillow and making it difficult for me to breathe deeply, but I  manage
to move my face to the side. I look back at Robby who's on his knees,
spread wide as he casually moves his hips driving his boner tightly back and
forth in my ass. His eyes are closed with a pleasant expression on his face.

Watching the steady movement of his hips driving his piston-like  boner
rhythmically back and forth at an even steady speed, seemingly on  their own,
becomes hypnotizing. It's sort of oxymoronic to say this is a  casual/dominant
fuck, but that's how I perceive it. I'm loving that Robby's  doing it and
pleasantly surprised at the dominant part. Feels so good. His fat  cock is
moving quickly tightly sliding sexily over my prostate with my  anus' lips
hugging the shaft as it moves to and fro. I sense Robby's mood, and  unlike our
lover's sex, I think this one is mostly about Robby being horny and
pleasuring himself by using my rectum. He's thinking more about his pleasure  than
mine this morning; more of a 'buddy' fuck, and that's perfectly fine  at
times. It's not always going to be lover's sex. He could be thinking about  all
the awesome sex we had yesterday and that got him horny this morning. I'm
calling this sub/dom sex because basically it is.

When  Robby gets a bit rougher it really cranks me up and turns me on. Now
he pulls my  hips further up off the bed, muttering, "Stay like that." It
takes some effort  to keep my ass off the mattress this much because I'm not
on my hands and knees  but that's not Robby's concern. He's thrusting that
fat boner of his up my ass  with renewed vigor as, I assume, his orgasm is
building and he begins pounding  his cock up my ass faster and faster making a
whiny sound of sexual desire from  the need to climax. In and back faster
and harder. He does a little grunt with  each thrust and I get chills zipping
all over my body. Unexpectedly Robby pulls  his cock out completely, and
it's me whining now as he rolls me over on my back  pushing my legs up, then
jams his cock back up my ass to pound it in and back  with a 'Slap!' sound
going in and a, "Oooh!" pulling back. Using a hand behind  each of my thighs
he's pushing my legs so far forward my feet are in the air and  my knees are
almost hitting me in the face. Robby's gasping, sweat on his  face as he's
awesomely fucking my ass. I'm feeling helpless in this position,  almost in a
ball and my old nemesis claustrophobia slides over my brain. Every  nerve
ending in my rectum is sizzling with sexual pleasure while a submissive  state
of mind joins the claustrophobia increasing my sexual arousal and
pleasure.

I  know I won't last long now as I do another submissive whine while
marveling at  the incredible sensations that are pulsating causing tightening
around my groin.  In this awkward position Robby's balls smack into mine with
every hump of his  hips and the sharp thrill of pain is enhancing the pleasure
with my climax  rolling over me and I squeal humping my hips awkwardly as a
hard stream of cum  zips out of my boner splashing into my neck and chin.

Brilliant flashes of color  burst in my head as another hip hump sends a
second streak of my own semen  splashing on my face. It hit my nose and upper
lip drooling down all around my  mouth. A few more spurts plop out onto my
stomach as I moan and concentrate on  the fleeting pings of my orgasm
sensations are still blipping around my groin.  They all fade away quickly and I sigh
as Robby gasps. He's tight against my  buttocks leaning forward so far my
knees are on either side of my face with  Robby humping wildly, then with a
gasp he floods my bowels with his latest load  of semen. Then again, and
again followed by a dozen out of control thrusting in  my now cum saturated
rectum with cum drooling out around his cock splattering my  butt cheeks with
cum droplets.

No  movement for a second, then a quiet, "Whoa," from Robby. He pulls his
cock out,  my legs flop down on the bed, and Robby crawls over my right leg
and plops down  beside me on his stomach breathing hard. He's sweating; his
eyes still closed as  he takes deep breaths though lips that form a little
grin of contentment. The  side of my head's on the pillow as I'm watching him,
but saying nothing. One  last exhale and he opens his eyes, then turn his
head to look at me, and says,  "Good morning, boyfriend," with a big smile on
his face. I can't help but smile  back at him, then ask, "Who have you been
taking fucking-lesson from?" He goes  up on his side supporting himself on
his elbow, obviously very pleased with  himself, asking, "Whaddaya mean
fucking lessons?" I go, "This so-called  recreational fuck of yours, um, I don't
recall us doing it like this before." He  leans down and kisses my lips,
then says, "Didn't you like it? I got carried  away, but that's your fault.

You deprived me of your awesome ass all summer and  now that you're here I'm
like a sex maniac." I nod my head, "Okay, mister sex  maniac, to answer your
question, I liked it very much. It was very hot sex and I  liked it a lot
even though when you rolled me in a ball I got claustrophobia?" I  won't
mention sub/dom sex because Rob's never warmed-up to that concept. If he  does it
at times without realizing he's doing it, so much the  better.

Then  he acts concerned, asking, "Really, Dylan? You thought it was hot and
I wasn't  too rough?" I go, "No, seriously, it was hot! I love our lover's
sex the best,  but we have a way-back history of rough recreational fucking
too. Remember when  we were naming our different fucks during freshman year
at Merrimack?" He  frowns, "Um, no I don't remember that. It was probably
you naming our  sex." Shrugging, I grin at him, "What are we going to do now,
Rob?" He smirks  and we wrestle on the bed kissing and rubbing each other's
body, spreading our  spunk on us and the sheets. I almost fall off the side
but Robby catches me the  last second and then we cuddle for a bit without
talking. I'm slowly rubbing cum  in Robby's hair without him knowing it. Just
at the side of his head. When the  cum wets through to his scalp, he goes,
"Hey! Are you rubbing cum on my head?" I  go, "No, don't be ridiculous." He
feels his wet cum-spot head, grinning and  saying, "Lets take a shower."

We  take a shower together talking about last night's sex, and then this
morning's.  We talk about it without having any sex during the shower. Robby
claims this is  probably the most sex he and I have ever had in a fifteen
hour period, again  insisting the reason for his horniness is him missing doing
it for most of the  summer. I'm not sure if he means missing sex with me,
or missing sex altogether.  I'm not inclined to ask him to clarify what
exactly he means because that might  lead to a discussion of how much I've been
missing it. I've certainly been  missing having sex with him, but if he means
missing sex in a general sense I'd  rather not go into details about that.

The past two weeks have been a bit barren  for me, but previous to that Ryan
and I were fucking like minks with some of  Timmy's two-inch-dick fucking
and sucking thrown in for good measure. I'm pretty  sure Robby would like me
to be a little more forthcoming about Ryan's and my sex  the past two
months, but I'm sticking to our old steadfast rule that we do not  discuss side
sex. What good could come from doing that?
As  we're drying after our shower I get us off the subject of sex, saying,
"Chubby's  going to be bopping in any minute now to go food shopping for
this morning's  brunch. You can stay for brunch, right?" He goes, "Yeah, I told
dad I'd be  missing meeting this weekend so I could spend the time with
you. I thought you  and I were going to have an argument about you returning to
Georgia, and we'd  need the whole weekend to sort that out. Then I find out
you were one step ahead  of me and already decided not to return." I ask,
"How much time will you and I  have together during the week? You know,
considering the extra time you've been  spending at work?" He goes, "I'll make
the time, Dylan, but there are some  responsibilities to Dad and the job that
I can't ignore. He's depending on me."  I'll probably be hearing a version
of that from Robby even after we're married.  Robby's always been
conscientious and I don't see that changing, so I better get  used to it. Anyway, I
think it's a good thing he's conscientious. Heads of their  households should
be conscientious.

We're  drinking mugs of coffee and smoking cigarettes on the balcony when
Chubby comes  through the front door smiling and giving us a little wave. He
makes a coffee  for himself then joins us on the balcony giving me a hug and
a quick-as-a-wink  kiss before bumping fist with Robby, telling us, "You
boys look sparkling clean  and clear-eyed this morning." I go, "So do you,
Chub," and he goes, "Yes, and  that's because I was sensible last night and
didn't do shots like less  responsible guys were doing. Unfortunately without
doing the shots it made for a  pretty dull affair." Rob asks, "Where was the
party?" Chubby says, "It wasn't  actually a party. My girlfriend, Lynchie,
has four brothers and two of them had  their girlfriends over the house and
we hung out talking and drinking while  trying to decide what we felt like
doing." Robby asks, "What kind of a name  is 'Lynchie'?" Chubby shrugs, "Her
name's Kathy Lynch, but my nickname for  her is 'Lynchie'. Ya know, what else
would it be?" I go, "And you guys never  decided what to do, so you just
continued doing nothing." Chubby chuckles,  "Well, heh heh, I would't say
'nothing'. Lynchie and I decided to take a little  ride, and you know..." Robby
says, "And you ended up at the reservoir for a  little nookie." Chubby looks
startled, asking, "You know about the reservoir?" I  look at Robby and he
smirks at me, then says to Chubby, "I've heard rumors about  it. It's a
lover's lane or something, right?" Chubby goes, "Well, I don't think  you need to
be lovers. Acquaintances will work just as well." I mutter, "You're
over-sexed, Chub. There's more things to life than just sex." He asks,  "Better
things?" and I go, "Sure, there's, um, things."

Finished  our coffees we drive to Stop & Shop discussing this morning
brunch and  deciding on a basic brunch, but with a twist. The twist is creamed
beef on toast  in honor of our awesome Army boys who would probably refer to
that dish as shit  on a shingle, or SOS. The Army mess hall probably would
just have the SOS, but  we're also having fresh cut-up fruit, a cheese quiche,
and home fries with onion  and green peppers. As soon as we get inside Stop
& Shop I'm reminded that  Sunday grocery shopping blows! Every Sunday
Chubby and I are at Stop & Shop  we tell each other we'll do future food shopping
for brunch on Saturdays, but we  never remember to do it. On Sundays the
mothers send their husbands and all the  kids shopping so she has a couple
hours of peace. The husbands haven't a clue  what they're doing and the kids
run around getting on everyone's nerves. I'm  trying to ignore them as I look
for cute bag boys or register clerks... old  habits die hard.

I  spot a couple of boys who might make it into my brain's cute-o-meter
except  they're too young. Probably sixteen or seventeen. The boys who are a
little  older are unfortunately goofy looking. The sad part is the too-young
cute boys  will probably be goofy looking by the time they're legal age. It
very rare for  boys to get cuter as they age where the opposite is often true
for girls.  Doesn't seem fair, does it? Nature is screwing with us again,
ya know? Chubby  says, "Earth to Dylan," and I go, "Wha...?" He says, "You went
to your little  dream world again. How about if you and Rob get what we
need for the creamed  beef and the quiche. I'll get the fruit and home fries
ingredients. Um, should  we do fresh squeezed orange juice too?" I shrug,
"Fucking oranges are a $1.50  each," and he says, "They're half that if I buy a
bag of them. Fresh squeezed  orange juice is like a hundred times better
than bottled." I roll my eyes, like:  Oh, I didn't know that, bro. He rubs my
head grinning and off he goes with a  shopping basket. I say to Robby, "I
think the packages of dried beef make the  best creamed beef, don't you?" He
asks, "What's creamed beef?" Okay, he's not  going to be much help.

I  find an eight ounce bottle of dried beef and put it in the basket
Robby's  carrying. Then a quart of half and half cream to make the white sauce,
and for  use in the quiche too. An eight pack of eggs and a six ounce bag of
shredded  cheddar cheese, plus pie dough in a disposable aluminum foil pan.

Jesus, I hope  the 'green' people don't notice we're using a disposable pie
pan. All of the  items I choose go into Robby's basket. Making pie dough from
scratch blows, so  we always get the pre-made dough. Now I'm tapping my
front teeth with a finger  thinking that a plain cheese quiche is boring. I ask
Robby, "What could we add  to the quiche to perk it up?" He shrugs, "Um,
vegetables?" I go, "Vegetables?  That's an awesome idea, boyfriend, but maybe
bacon would be better," and throw a  package of Oscar Mayer bacon  in the
basket. That was easy. We're done so we head to the produce section to  find
Chubby. Robby goes, "There he is." I look over and see Chubby grinning  while
talking with two girls. He has one red pepper in his basket and nothing
else. One of the girls is sort of cute, but the other one is not. Plus the
un-cute girl is very tall and thin. Poor thing.

We  saunter over and I ask, "Done shopping already, Chub?" He looks at the
lonely  red pepper in his basket as the tall girl asks, "Chub? Who's Chub?"

Chubby  ignores that, telling the girls, "This is my brother," and he puts
his arm  across my shoulders pulling me over in front of the girls, asking,
"Ain't he  beautiful?" The cute girl says, "Yes, he is. Oh my God, I can see
some of you in  him, Jeffrey." I grin, saying, "Huh, thanks," and the tall
girl rubs my head. I  pull my head away as she says, "Cool haircut." What the
fuck? Maybe Ryan knows  something about haircuts that I don't. Chubby nods
to the tall girl, telling me,  "She's, Stretch, and her girlfriend's,
Petite." Petite says, "I'm Gloria and  that's Caitlin. Your brother gave us those
silly nicknames." Caitlin says,  "Stretch doesn't sounds like much of
complimentary nickname for a girl." Chubby  goes, "Don't be silly, Stretch. That's
Gisele Bundchen's nickname. Tom gave it  to her on their wedding day." The
girl's look at each other and burst out  laughing with Petite asking, "Who's
Tom?" I say, "It's been a pleasure meeting  you both, but we've got a bus
to catch." Petite asks, "Who's this handsome  thing?" nodding at Robby. I go,
"He's my boyfriend who's destined to be head of  our household." The girls
laugh and Chubby asks Petite, "You going with anyone?"  She makes a face at
Stretch and Chubby adds, "I just broke off my engagement  with Gisele's
sister, so I'm single and available now."

As  the girls laugh, not really knowing why they're laughing, I say, "Robby
and I  will finish your shopping, Chubby," and as we walk away Caitlin
asks, "What's  this 'Chubby' thing he keeps calling you?" I don't hear what he
says, but the  squeals of laughter from the two girls tell me it was bizarre.

Robby and I get a  bag of oranges, a sweet onion, and half a pound of Bliss
potatoes. Everything  goes into the basket Robby's carrying. Chubby's got
the red pepper so the home  fried potatoes are taken care of, and that leaves
only the fruit to complete our  shopping. We choose a honeydew melon, a
wedge of watermelon, red and black  seedless grapes, and very dark red
strawberries. Will cut up the strawberries,  honeydew, and watermelon and combine
with the grapes for a visually attractive  and delicious fruit dish. Summer
fruit rock!
I  tell Robby, "Get the red pepper from Chub's basket and we'll check out
the  groceries." He does that and we go to a self-checkout register because
there's  no one interesting on the regular registers to flirt with. Chubby
catches up  with us as we're on our way out the door. He goes, "That was easy.

Here, let me  carry that, Rob," and he takes the plastic bags from Robby,
adding, "We knocked  the shopping out pretty quickly, Don'cha think, bro?" I
squeeze his shoulder,  "Yeah, teamwork, Chubby." Back at the condo, I ask,
"Your condo or mine, Chub?"  He says, "Yours, in honor of your return."

Robby  cuts up the fruit while I make the cream sauce for the chipped beef.

It's  simple: make a roux from butter and flour, then over heat, stir in
cream until  it's the consistency of syrup and add the chipped dried beef.

Make some toast,  and that's all there is to it. For the quiche we preheat the
oven to 350 degree  and precook the store-bought crust until it's halfway
done. Then Robby and I fry  bacon and crunch it into bits and pieces ready to
be added to the quiche. Sauté  chopped onion in the bacon fat, then combine
cream and eggs, add the shredded  cheese, bacon bits, and sautéed onions,
pour it into the crust and bake it in  the oven. While we're doing that
Chubby's partially precooked pealed potatoes in  the microwave and when they've
cooled a little he cuts them into half inch cubes  sautéing then with cut-up
onion and red pepper. Everything gets seasoned with  salt and pepper except
the creamed beef because that's salty enough  already.

In  the middle of all this Tris comes down from her condo. Hugs and kisses
all  around and then that gets repeated all over again when my mom comes out
of her  bedroom full of smiles and good cheer. They want to help so Chubby
assigns then  the job of squeezing the oranges that we've had in the freezer
getting cold.  Robby makes toast for the creamed beef and each slice gets
heavily buttered. The  coffee's being made mug by mug and when the quiche is
ready we put everything in  serving dishes and then everything goes on the
table. As we eat at the crowded  table there's lots of chatter from the moms
about how fabulous everything looks  and tastes with Chubby pretending to be
put-out saying, "Dylan comes home and  just look at this fabulous brunch.

My brunches were terrible compared to this,"  and the moms go overboard
telling him his brunches were wonderful. Robby,  Chubby, and I tell the moms what
we did last night leaving out all details of a  sexual nature. All in all a
very successful brunch using most of the pans and  serving dishes we have
in the house. Messy clean-up afterwards which the moms  insist on doing
themselves.

While  they're doing that, after telling us guys to scoot, as Tris puts it,
we go  up to Chubby's condo for smokes on the balcony. Robby says, "Hey,
there's  usually a pick-up soft ball games at the high school Sunday
afternoons. Ya  wanna check it out?" Robby's missing his baseball summer league. This
is the  first summer since I've known him he isn't in some kind of summer
baseball  league. Chubby and I get our baseball gloves, sunglasses, and
baseball caps,  then ride with Robby in his pickup to his house so he can get his
glove. I'm  wearing Ryan's Merrimack baseball cap thinking about him during
the ride. I feel  like I abandon him and didn't fully keep my word, but
there were circumstantial  unexpected developments to consider, like Josh
offering the severance pay, and  Ryan's affair with Mike. Still, I don't feel
totally okay about it. Ryan was a  friend to start with, but he became a really
good friend of mine this summer. He  treated me right and I hope he thinks
the same about me. I did some good things  for him, which eases my
conscience somewhat, but I still hate to disappoint a  friend after giving my word.

While Robby's inside getting his glove, Chubby  wants to know why I'm being
quiet and I ask him, "Do you think I did the right  thing coming home earlier
than I promised Ryan? I feel kinda bad about that." He  squeezes my
shoulder, "You did the right thing, Dylan. First of all that  boss-guy was asking
you workers to leave early, and secondly by leaving you  opened the way
completely for Ryan to spend time with his boyfriend,  what's-his-name, without
feeling guilty about ignoring you." I mutter, "Yeah, I  guess you're right."

Robby  returns carrying his glove and wearing his Merrimack baseball cap,
saying, "I  guess we'll check out the new college apartments another
weekend." Chubby goes,  "Yeah, I totally forgot all about that," and I say, "We've
got plenty of time to  do it." Robby's cap has his uniform's number on it,
but the one I'm wearing  doesn't because Ryan wasn't a player. He was the
equipment manager. Watching  Robby walk to the pickup my heart swells with love
for him, but something else  too. The last couple of days he's been so sweet
to me, but at the same time  there's been a certain take-charge attitude to
him that's subtle but definitely  there. The past two days might be the
best two days Robby and I have ever had  together, but then that might be an
allusion due to our separation. I don't know  exactly, but I'm going to resist
analyzing the shit out of this like I tend to  do too often. Instead I'm
going to enjoy it, but dammit I feel a glow when I'm  with Robby that I don't
remember feeling before. He's really  something!
When  we get to the high school there's a pick-up baseball game in
progress, but there  are plenty of players already so they don't need us. Going to
the upper level  where the basketball courts are located we find three guys
shooting baskets.  Chubby challenges them to a three-on-three game. Neither
Chubby nor I have been  on an organized sport team since little league,
although we're both pretty good  at sandlot sports: baseball, basketball, or two
hand touch football. With Chubby  doing most of the talking we discover two
of the three guys graduated high  school this past spring. The taller of the
two played on last year's high school  basketball team. He has a big wide
body and a long face, or I guess it's more  accurate to say he has a long
head. Nothing especially noteworthy about his  appearance other than that. He
introduces himself as, Bird Bates. 'Bird'  obviously his nickname. Chubby
asks him, as if it's a serious question, "Any  relation to that guy in the
motel?" Bird asks, "What motel," and I say, "Don't  pay any attention to him,"

as his friend mumbles, "Bates motel, dumb  ass."

Bird's  friend, the short guy, has black hair that's straight as a poker
reaching his  shoulders, and to go with that bad 'look', he has a bristly full
black beard...  about a week's growth. And as if that's not bad enough he
unfortunately has one  of those noses I call a 'pig nose'. When you look
straight at him you're looking  up his nostrils. Best not to look right at him.

He introduces himself as,  Zipper. The third kid is Robby's and my height,
which is an inch and a half  under six feet and this kid is rail thin. He
doesn't know the other two. I  noticed him glancing at me as Chubby's
extracting information about these three  strangers. This third guy begrudgingly
tells us he's going into his sophomore  year at community college.  With further
prodding from grinning Chubby the  kid tells us his name is, Frank Denton.

He has a grown-out buzz cut, meaning all  the hairs on his head are the same
length... about two inches long. That makes  for a really bad ragamuffin
look when including his t-shirt that's about four  sizes too big and cargo
shorts that reach below his knees. Everything about him  is uncool except my
brain's cute-o-meter glows faintly. He stares defiantly at  us looking like a
tough guy, but one with a baby face of youngish almost cute  facial
features.  I suppose 'tough looking guy with a baby face' is yet  another oxymoron,
but that's how he strikes me. It's more his attitude than  anything else. He
probably lacks confidence so acts tough to hide that fact.  After he
mumbles his name, he turns his back on us to swish a shot from the top  of the
key. We introduce ourselves with Chubby calling himself, "Arnold Love,"

adding, "And please don't call me Arnie." Zipper and Bird are friends, while
Frank was just here shooting baskets when the other two joined him.

After  a lot of shrugging from the three strangers, like they couldn't care
less,  Chubby's organizes a three-on-three basketball game were we call our
own fouls,  there are no three point baskets, and the other team takes the
ball out after  each score. Chubby says, "With every made basket counting as
'one', the first  team to reach fifteen wins." Chubby will cover Zipper,
Robby's on Bird, and I've  got tough, baby faced, Frank. Frank passes the ball
in to Bird who turns around  at the top of the key and sinks the shot with
the ball barely tickling the net  as it goes through. Chubby says to Robby,
"Um, you're allowed to try defending  his shot." Robby chuckles giving
Chubby the finger, mumbling, "Maybe you should  cover Bird." Bird weights maybe a
hundred and ninety pounds and he's six  feet-two inches tall. Chubby's
five-feet six inches and weighs about a hundred  and twenty pounds. That
match-up probably wouldn't work out in our  favor.

I  take the ball out and pass it in to Robby who fakes a shot and then
dribbles  around Bird for a layup. As the game progresses It's unusual that none
of these  guys does any trash talking while Chubby's doing enough for all
six of us. He  gets Bird and Chubby's guy, Zipper, laughing. My guy, Frank,
says nothing. Frank  likes taking shots from the corner baseline. Big rainbow
shots that would be  three point baskets in the NBA. The main reason the
game stays close is Robby's  athleticism and Zipper being a ball hog. He hogs
the ball limiting their best  player's opportunities to shoot. Bird's easily
the best player on the court, but  he's not aggressive. And one more
factor: Bird's lazy and not all that  interested in defending Robby, so Chubby and
I feed Robby the ball whenever  possible and he makes maybe half his shots.

 Chubby's all over Zipper  hacking his arms but refusing to call fouls on
himself. When he hammers Zip-it,  as Chubby's nicknamed him, Chubby yells,
"That wasn't a foul, was it Zip-it?"  Zipper laughs and Chubby goes, "I didn't
think so." We can all hear Chubby's  hand slapping at Zipper's wrist or
hand. My brother can get away with stuff like  that because he's so friendly
and funny. Chubby's all over the place and he has  a sneaky fast shot that's
'money' at twelve feet.

Me  and Frank are into a lot of bodily contact with or without the ball,
but so far  he hasn't uttered a single word. I try making small talk with him,
but he just  smirks or grins at me. One time he shakes his head 'no' when I
ask him if he  didn't feel he should call a foul on himself for almost
breaking my wrist trying  to block my shot. We lose the first game 17 to 19.

They scored 15 baskets first  but we had 14 points and you need to win by two.

That's a rule Chubby initiated  when they scored the 15th basket. During the
second game Frank and me get a  little more chummy and he calls a foul on
himself silently by putting his hand  up. I take the ball out after my air
ball missed everything, and as Chubby's  doing exaggerated and unnecessary
dribbling around, I say to Frank, "Hey,  Frankie boy, you didn't foul me, why'd
you call a foul on yourself?" He speaks  for the first time, with a grin
saying, "Because you're cute, that's why." Hmmm?  The next time Frank makes
one of his rainbow baskets from the baseline I rub his  funny looking soft
hair, saying, "Nice shot." The thing is, when I rubbed his  head he didn't pull
his head away, so I gave it a second rub. That's a test I've  been using,
like forever. If a guy pulls his head away frowning he's almost  surely not
interested, but if he holds his head steady with some eye contact,  well I
gotta wonder about him. The best result is when a guy leans into your  hand
when you rub his head or squeeze the back of his neck. That's a win right
there.

Anyway  I'm pretty sure this tough-looking cute ragamuffin kid is a gay
candidate, but  once I find out I'm not usually the one to do anything further.

That needs to be  his job. Of course there's always the cock teasing factor
to consider, although  I don't believe he's one of those. In the meantime
there's lots of touching  between us, as well as, much too much eye contact
for two straight guys. It's  almost like he knows I'm gay or something. He
has a bemused expression on his  face at times, so maybe he is a cock teaser
after all. Frank's a bit of an  enigma.

We  win the second game 16 to 18 mostly because ball-hog, Zipper, took
almost half  their shots without a lot of success. His friend, Bird, doesn't
seem to care and  their other teammate is Frank, who's mostly interested in
bumping against me or  getting tangled up with me going for a loose ball. I
don't know about anyone  else, but I'm having a good ol' time. An ice cream
truck drives up to the street  near the baseball field making that silly
tinkling bell sound. We interrupt our  game, tied at 10 baskets each, and all run
down to buy drinks, mostly  over-priced cold bottled water.

Walking  back to the basketball court I ask Frank, "Are you always this
quiet?" He shakes  his head and chuckles without saying anything, so I test him
again by squeezing  the back of his neck, mumbling, "It's driving me crazy,
Frankie. Say something!"  He grins and leans into my hand. Bingo! I rub his
head again, saying, "Ya know,  I'm an awesome barber. How about a free
haircut?" He looks at me with a  surprised expression, then asks, "Really? I
didn't know that." As if he knows  anything about me. Anyway I nod my head,
"Sure, you can ask my brother or Rob  about my haircutting skills." Then I add,
as another test," Neither my brother  or my boyfriend would lie about
that," emphasizing 'boyfriend' a little. He  didn't bat an eye at that, so that's
encouraging. Feeling a little guilty for  flirting with Frank, I glance at
Robby who's talking sports with Bird, so he  doesn't seem concerned... it's
all good.

After  our water break we resume the rubber-match with renewed vigor...

everyone's  sweating bullets by the time they win the third game 22 to 24. It
was a lot of  fun without any of the participants coming close to a fight,
which is a good  thing. Guys are doing one arm hugs or bumping fist saying,
"Good game, dude,"  and things of that sort. The friends, Bird and Zipper are
taking off as Robby  asks Chubby and me, "How about a swim?" We're all for
that and I ask Frank,  "Interested in a swim to cool off?" He bites on his
bottom lip grinning at  something, then mutters, "No thanks. I better not." I
go, "Aw, c'mon," and he  shrugs, "I'd feel funny. I don't know you guys,
plus I obviously don't have swim  trunks with me." I shrug, "Well, I hope to
see you around sometime, Frankie." I  didn't expect he'd come with us in the
first place, but then he asks, "Um, ya  sure your friends wouldn't mind if I
came along?" Surprised, I go, "Nah, they  won't mind. C'mon, I'll lend you a
swim suit," and he follows me over to where  Robby and Chubby are sitting
in the shade smoking a cigarette. I say, "Frankie  here is coming with us for
a swim." Chubby goes, "Love that killer baseline shot  of yours, Frankie,"

and Frank mumbles, "Thanks, Arnold." The three of us laugh  with Frank
looking embarrassed or maybe it's he's pissed off we're laughing. I  mean, he
finally opened-up a little and we laugh at him. I tell him about  Chubby's
bullshit name and he goes, "Oh." If I was in Frank's position I'd never  go off
with three strangers, never mind borrowing a swim suit from one of them.  I
never expected Frank to say 'yes', so maybe there's more to him than meets
the  eye.

Frank  tells us that he walked to the basketball court, so he doesn't have
a car. No  problem, he brings his basketball as we head for Robby's pickup.

Frank's walking  beside me, asking, "You're still in Framingham, right?"

What's he mean 'still'?  I tell him where I live and where Robby lives. He
says, "Ooou, money," meaning  Robby's neighborhood. It is a nice neighborhood
with a lot of thirty year old,  ten-room houses, but I never considered
Robby's family rich. More like  comfortable middle class. Frank sits in the
pickup's skinny back seat and the  three of us sit where we did driving over. I
try keeping Frank in the  conversation but he's still pretty quiet looking
like maybe he's having second  thoughts about coming with us. We're strangers,
but so is everyone until you  meet them. I like his looks but I don't know
what I expect to do with him. Maybe  give him a haircut. Mostly I'm intrigued
at the remark he made about me being  'cute' and what exactly he meant by
that. It could have been sarcasm, or even a  put-down, but I don't think so.

I think he's gay. Maybe closeted or maybe  bisexual, but I don't think he's
straight.

At  the condos Robby drops us off and he drives to his place. We'll take
the Jeep so  we'll have a ride back. Chubby goes up to his condo while Frank
and I go inside  my house. He says, "Nice place." I mumble, "Yeah, thanks to
my mom I get to live  in this nice place," and he asks, "Um, can I get a
ride back after the swim? I  live near the high school." I go, "Of course! I'll
give you a ride home whenever  you want to go." In my bedroom it's a little
awkward because after all we are  strangers. I show him a couple of
swimsuits, saying, "You and I are the same  size so any of these will fit you." He
asks, "You don't mind a stranger wearing  your bathing suit?" I go, "No, not
really, depending on the stranger of course."  He takes the first bathing
suit I showed him. It's a gray boardie style suit  with yellow piping, a
birthday present a couple years ago from Mom. Not one of  my favorites. Frank
asks, "Where should I change?" I shrug, "Right here, or if  you're shy use the
bathroom." He nods his head and goes in the bathroom. Ha ha,  that made me
think again of the time Dodger took his tiny Speedo swimsuit off  the first
time I met him and handed it to me as he stood on the outdoor patio  naked.

That was kind of the opposite of Frank's reaction.

I  put a bathing suit on looking forward to jumping in the pool. Frank
comes out  mumbling, "It fits good. The price tags still on it though." I'm
like, "Oh  really? Huh, guess I've never wore it." I get a scissor from my desk
and cut the  tag off. We go out the front door wearing our t-shirts over the
swim suits with  Frank carrying his cargo shorts. His underpants are either
in one of the pocket  of his shorts, or he's wearing them. Unless he wasn't
wearing underwear in the  first place... ha ha. Fuck, why do I have thoughts
like that? I adjust my junk as  Chubby's coming down the steps smiling and
asking a crazy question, "Frankie,  were you a hall monitor as a sophomore?
I'm thinking you gave me a pass when I  was a senior skipping biology class."

Frank raises his eyebrows, surprised,  saying, "Yeah, I was a hall monitor
then. I volunteered for it to get out of  Library study hall." Chubby puts
his arm across Frank's shoulders, saying, "I  was racking my brain trying to
think where I've seen you before." Frank's  talkative with Chubby as we go
down to the Jeep that's parked at the curb. First  off, what a memory Chubby
has, but more interesting is the way he can make  anyone feel at home, like
they're one of the guys. I remember how sweet he was  to Cory Dunlevy the
first time I had Cory to the college apartment for dinner.  Cory was still
extremely defensive, bordering on anti-social behavior, but  Chubby cut right
through all that.

Chubby  drives the three of us to Robby's house and we walk into the back
yard where we  find Robby with some kind of a device testing the water, Frank
says to me, "It's  funny Jeff remembered me from high school." I shrug,
"Yeah, weird, huh?" He  goes, "Ya know, I remember you from my freshman year,
Dylan." I'm like, "What? I  don't, um...?" He says, "I never stalked you or
anything, you're safe. It's just  that I watched you whenever I saw you at
school." I'm like, "Why?" and he says,  "I heard my cousin talking about you
once. You were a junior working on the  school newspaper." I'm staring at
him, muttering, "Yeah, I was the school editor  in my senior year. Where you on
the paper? I don't, um, remember you." He shakes  his head, "No, my cousin
was though." I go, "Your cousin?" He says, "Yeah, I'm  the third oldest of
nine cousins. All of them aren't living in Framingham  though." Wait a
fucking minute! He said his name is Frank Denton. Fat  Carl Denton's cousin?
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