Date: Tue, 2 Feb 2016 14:56:55 -0500
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME   Chapter 9

DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME



Chapter 9



By  Donny Mumford



Without  much enthusiasm, I answer my cellphone, "Hey Frankie, wassup?" He
goes, "That  free haircut you offered to me. Um, that's if you're still
willing to tackle my  mop of hair?" I'm not really feeling it, but I go, "Yeah,
sure. I'm curious  though, aren't you the least bit concerned about my
barbering skills?" He forces  out a nervous chuckle, "No, not really. A buzz cut
is kinda hard to screw up.  It's just, you know, I hate the thought of
paying twenty dollars for a five  minute haircut." I mumble, "Yeah, I don't blame
you." My ass is dragging though.  I only had five hours sleep last night
and working on the grass cutting crew was  harder than I remembered, but I
promised so I try sounding friendly,  "So, you need a ride over here, right?"

He goes, "Embarrassingly, yes. I don't  have any mode of transportation. My
ten-speed bike is even out  of commission." Man, a bicycle! I feel bad for
him as I go,  "I'm almost positive I can pick you up in a few minutes, but let
me check  with my boyfriend first and see if he's made any plans for us."

Frankie says,  "You're awesome to do this, Dylan, um, thanks, man." I mumble,
"Sure. If you  don't hear from me I'll be there in fifteen or twenty
minutes," and I hit the  'end' key on my iPhone. Damn! I could go for a nice two
hour nap right about  now. Normally I'd be looking forward to buzzing a head
of hair like Frankie's  but that prick, Matt Singleton, worked my ass off
today.

Sighing,  I punch the quick dial for Robby and he answers right away, "Yo,
Dylan! How was  your first day back on the job? I hardly got a chance to
talk to you all day."  I'm like, "Good, it was all good, Rob." Then, with a bit
of apprehension in his  voice, he asks, "Matt wasn't too hard on you?" I
say, "Um, not especially,  although he certainly wants things done his way."

Robby's enthused, "Yeah, he  awesome like that! Did he tell you about the
test at the end of the week? He's  an excellent trainer and he'll probably be a
supervisor next year." I go, "Huh,  a supervisor. The test, yes he
mentioned that." Robby says, "I suggested a  supervisory position next year for your
brother, but he wasn't interested. He  said he wouldn't want to put in the
extra time for meetings and things like  that." I mumble, "Oh yeah? That
surprises me."

Robby's  in a upbeat frame of mind, saying, "Jeff's been a super assistant
for me though.  Don't know what I'd do without him." I say, "Um, about you
and me. How do things  look for you and me tonight?" He goes, "I'm sorry to
say tonight and tomorrow  night I've got to work. Dad and I are touring the
fifty acre property for the  big spring project.  We've been there a number
of times already of course,  but this time we need to estimate the amount of
earth moving equipment we'll  need to rent. Ya gotta reserve heavy equipment
rentals way in advance." I roll  my eyes, mumbling, "Is that right?" and he
goes, "Yep, but then that's it for  meetings the rest of the week." I say,
"Okay, boss, that's good to know. I'll  see you tomorrow morning." Robby
laughs "Wait a minute! Aren't you going to give  me a hard time about not
seeing you tonight?" I go, "No, I'm way too mature to  do that. I know you need
to work and I respect you for it. And, ha ha, my ass is  dragging some." He
says, "Yeah, tell me about it. I'm taking No-Doz and getting  some caffeine
working for me. See you tomorrow."

Okay,  let me check myself to see if I actually am okay about not seeing
him tonight.  Huh, it's true; I'm not pissed-off. Good for me! Puffing my
cheeks out, exhaling  a deep breath, I gotta call Frankie. Suck it up Dylan!
You'll be napping within  the hour. Before the first ring ends, Frankie's like,
"Dylan?" and I say, "Okay,  we're good to go, Frankie." He goes, "Great,
but like I tried to tell you before  you hung up on me, I just got home from
work. Can you give me time to at least  wash my hair and clean up?"

Forgetting I'm tired for a second, I tell him,  "Clean up if you want, but I'll
shampoo your hair for you, its part of the  package." Silence for a few seconds,
then he goes, "Really? That's, um, so cool.  Thanks, um, surprisingly I'd
really like that." I ask, "Can I hit the 'end'  button now?" He laughs, "Yeah,
I'm done talking." We both hit the 'end' button  as I'm thinking, huh!
Frankie's not shy or uncomfortable about me shampooing his  hair. In the reverse
situation, I think I would be.  I mean,  after all we're basically
strangers. Dammit! Why did I mention the  shampoo?

I'm  trying to get my second wind because I should be looking forward to
this.  There's something about Frankie, although I don't know what it is
exactly. For  one thing I know he wasn't a freshman when I was a senior. He's
probably my age.  Whatever, he has something I'm attracted to. Maybe it's his
quiet, I don't  really give a shit attitude that he projects, but in a nice
way. I'm thinking he  has a quiet confidence about him, and while he said
he's gay I get the sense  he's not sexually active. In fact he could be pulling
my chain about being gay  altogether. Tired as I am it'd be cool if I
racked-up another busted cherry this  afternoon. Yeah, except guys don't have a
cherry, per se. On the other hand I  may be getting just a little ahead of
myself here... ha ha. Actually I'm not  expecting or especially wanting any
side-sex with him. I don't need it since  Robby's been so excellently taken care
of my horniness for three straight days  now. Last night with him was
awesome.

After  washing my face and hands, I grab a Coke from the refrigerator.

Robby's idea  about caffeine makes sense. Drinking the soda I text Chubby
telling him I'll be  using the Jeep for the next hour or so, and I hope that's not
a problem. I mean,  too bad if it is a problem because I hardly ever use
our car as it is. He texts  back saying if it's possible could he have our
Jeep by seven o'clock for his  date. He has a nice way of putting things, and
it isn't a problem anyway because  I'll easily be done by then, no sweat. By
seven I'll be in dream land catching  some Z's. Grabbing my set of keys, I
drive to Frankie's house and blow the horn  two quick blasts. He come out
immediately and gets in the Jeep, saying, "This is  so fucking nice of you,
Dylan." I'm like, "No problem," and he goes, "It's  wicked unusual for me to do
something like this. I shocked myself yesterday  swimming with you guys,
and now coming to you for a haircut I feel like a leech,  or something." I
say, "Nah, nothing like that." He goes, "It's just that you're  so cool and
relaxed about everything." Ha! I wish! Then he adds, "I feel like  I've known
you for a lot longer than twenty-four hours, that's for sure." I  mutter,
"Really? That's nice of you to say." As I pull away from his house, he  goes,
"In a way I have known you for a few years. I mean I was ogling you at
school, and I've overheard so much about you from that asshole cousin of mine."

I glance over at him, and he says, "Not that I believe everything he said.

Don't  get me wrong."

I  shouldn't give a shit, but I ask anyway, "Um, what else did you hear him
say  about me?" Frankie goes, "Oh man, it was like three years ago now. I
don't  remember his exact words, but I got the impression he sorta had you
wrapped  around his little finger so much so that you'd do anything, even
kinky things  that he told you to do. You were like super submissive to Carl.

Um, no offense.  I know you were much younger then." I take a deep breath,
blushing, my face  feeling hot. He glances over, "I don't mean to embarrass
you. I really don't.  Um, mostly I remember getting a hard-on listening to him
and Larry talking about  it, you know, about what you guys did together."

I'm like, "Well, I don't know  what either of them said but you can be dammed
sure it was extremely  exaggerated. They we're both liars for one thing." He
mutters, "Ha, they still  are. I can't stand either one of them. Like I
told you before, I couldn't  believe someone as sexy and cute as you would have
anything to do with either of  those losers." I swallow noisily, then
mumble, "It's embarrassing to think about  that shit now. I was young,
inexperienced, and stupid. And that's a lethal  combination!" Frankie says, "And I
suppose you were pretty horny too, huh?"  Shrugging, I'm getting a little
pissed off at the way he's saying some of these  things. He's sounding sort of
smug, almost taunting. Going on the offensive, I  ask, "So, what's your story,
Frankie? You've never made any bad choices sex-wise  growing up, I
suppose." He scratches his ear, frowning, "No, I've been lucky I  guess." I ask,
"Didn't you say you were a freshman when I was a senior? How  could you be
going to college? You'd be a senior in high school." He laughs and  blushes, "I
lied. I was a year behind you in high school. I didn't know we'd get  to be
like friends." Letting that slide, I wonder what else he lied to me  about.

I'm  driving down the alley behind my condo, asking, "Would you say you
have an  active sex life?" I shouldn't ask that, but I'm on the defensive a
little so I'm  trying to even the playing field in that regard. He says,
"Sorry, Dylan, but I  don't feel comfortable talking about that. It's personal, ya
know?" Parking the  Jeep, I say, "Yes, it is." Getting out of the car, he's
like, "Sorry! That  sounded pompous of me. I, um, I've had one boyfriend in
my whole life and one  other sex-buddy. And neither lasted all that long.

I'm not getting much, in  other words." He sounds more like himself now, so I
pat his shoulder, "Most guys  our age aren't getting much, Frankie." Then
to change the subject, "How's  community college working out for you?" As
we're going in through the door next  to the garage, he says, "Its okay, but I
wish I could go away to college. It  feels like extended high school going
to college from home." Inside, Frankie's  looking around, mumbling, "Nice
finished basemen." I go, "Thanks," then ask,  "Why don't you get a college loan
if you want to go away to college?" He says,  "My parents won't cosign for
it saying they don't want to screw up their credit  rating." I'm not going
there, so I say, "Well Frankie boy you're about to  experience my world
renowned salon treatment that begins with a shampoo." As I'm  pointing at the
half bath, I add, "Through that door."

He  follows me into the powder room, as some call a half bath, asking,
"Doesn't it  creep you out shampooing another guy's hair?" I say, "No, I like
doing it for  cute guys like yourself. I'm gay, you know." He chuckles, "So am
I,  but I'd be cheeped out shampooing another guy's hair, or even cutting
it." I  say, like I'm mister philosopher, "We're all wired differently,
Frankie." He  says, "Yeah, that's true. Ya know, I liked that remark you made
using the word  'cute' when referring to me. You think I'm cute?" I say, "Yeah,
don't you?" He  goes, "No, not really. You're the first person who ever
told me that." I go,  "Well, now you won't be able to say that anymore, will
you? Um, you need to  take your shirt off if you don't want it to get wet and
have hair clippings all  over it." He shrugs and pulls his too large, plain
white t-shirt over his head.  Huh, even though he's quite slim he has a very
nice hairless torso. His body's  hard- looking to go with his tough baby
face. He has a light  complexion with the kind of rosy cheeks you don't see on
too many guys. He  has some scraggily curly whiskers on his upper lip and
chin too. Checking out  his pecs, I ask, "You doing any lifting, Frank?" He sh
akes his head, "No, not  the way you mean. I work in at the UPS warehouse
so I lift boxes all day, but  I've never used free weights or a nautilus
machine. Nothing like  that."

I  explain my improvised shampoo procedure, which he has no problem with.

He sits  in the chair facing away from the sink, his neck resting on a hand
towel I  placed on the rim of the sink. Barking out kind of a nervous laugh,
he says,  "It's weird but I really like the idea of a guy shampooing my hair
and yet I  can't imagine doing it to another person myself." I'm like,
"Really? You know  shampooing is a common practice in men's salons. Not in most
neighborhood barber  shops of course, but if you pay extra you can even get
a shampoo in SuperCuts.  That's if you're misguided enough to go to
SuperCuts in the first place." He  mutters, "That's where I got my last buzz cut.

They're mostly lady hair cutters  though," and I mutter, "Not always."

As  I'm wetting his hair using the short hose attached to the facet. The
one with a  spray nozzle at the end, I notice Frankie's looking a little
tight, but then he  quickly relaxes with slightly slumped shoulders and his hands
folded on his lap.  Wonder what's in his lap under his hands and baggy
cargo shorts? I ask, "How  long since you got that last buzz at SuperCuts?" He
shrugs, "Almost a year I  think. It's the twenty bucks plus tip I object to,
not the haircut. I like a  buzzed haircut." Frank's my height with light
brown hair that's about two and a  half inches long all over his head. Hair
that definitely needs shampooing, but  that's no problem for me. After soaking
his hair with warm water, I spread  shampoo on his hair and run my fingers
though the suds while looking closely at  his face. Like I said, he has a
baby face that's somehow kinda tough-looking.  Maybe he's not actually cute so
much as he's interesting looking. He has a  widow's peak hairline
unfortunately. It's a shame because he has really nice  hair that'll look good in a
buzz cut except for the hairline drawback. Lucky  guys like me have hairlines
that go across our foreheads in more or less a  straight line.

He's  closed his eyes as I massage his scalp and shampoo his hair. It's
quiet as I  rinse the shampoo out and then do it all over again. Frank has
nicely shaped  ears, but no earring. No tats either, and from what he's said
about the cost of  haircuts I'm thinking money's a problem for him. I can just
hear him say he's  not paying for getting his ear pierced and then the cost
of an earring, never  mind the cost of a tattoo. It occurs to me as I'm
re-shampooing his hair that I  wouldn't have given a thought that he might be
gay if he hadn't advertised it  with all the eye contact during the basketball
game yesterday. That, and he did  a lot of touching too. Of course he
already knew I was gay because of his  cousin, so that explains it I guess. And
he said he was checking me out during  my senior year. It's weird he was
doing that and I didn't have a clue. Then he  doesn't see me for two years until
happenstance puts us together during a  pick-up basketball game. Life is
strange sometimes.

After  the second rinse I dry his head roughly with a towel and his eyes
pop open. He  goes, "Jesus, I think I dozed off, Dylan. Dude, that felt
awesome. Nobody's ever  massaged my head like that. I really liked it." I mumble,
"Good. Don't wait a  year for another haircut." He turns his head to look at
me, "Ya mean I can get a  free haircut whenever?" I nod, "Yeah, probably. I
mean, if I'm home. I go to  college in North Andover most of the year." He
asks, "Is that Merrimack  College." I nod and turn on the hairdryer.  When
his hair is very dry it  shines. Now that it's very clean it's my favorite
hair color: light brown,  almost blond, but not blond. I guess some people
call it dirty blond, but I  don't because I don't like the sound of that.

"C'mon  with me, Frankie. I cut hair in the basement." As we walk out of
the half bath,  I say, "Just so ya know, you don't have to get a buzz cut. I
can cut any hair  style you want." He says, "I've had a buzz cut as far back
as I can remember.  I'll stick with that." I'm like, "Okay, a half inch buzz
cut?" He says, "The  last time I wasted twenty buck on a haircut the lady
used a number two. Whatever  length that is, I liked it." I go, "Jesus,
that's a quarter inch. Pretty fucking  short." He says, "I guess, but I liked it
and almost went back a month later  before coming to my senses. I need to
work two and a half hours to earn twenty  bucks. Spending that on a five
minute haircut just doesn't seem right. Can I  come back to you in a month
though?" I go, "Like I said, if I'm here, of course  you can. I come home for
weekend visits during college about once a month,  usually. We'll text." He
says, "Thanks, Dylan. Really, thank you, that'd be  awesome."

Using  the new barber clippers I bought in Georgia, I put the number two
blade on and  run the clippers up the back of his head. It's a rush for me
seeing all that  hair falling away from his head and sliding off the back of my
hand, then  drifting to the floor. We don't talk as I shear his head. So
much clean light  brown hair being cut off it gives me a semi-hard on. When
done there remains  only a quarter inch of hair sticking up stiffly all over
his head. I go over it  again, then a third time making sure it's totally
even. Rubbing my hands over  his shorn head is arousing for a guy with a
haircut fetish like mine. Frankie  breaks the spell I'm in, saying, "Let me feel,"

and he rubs his head with both  hands as I'm passing him the hand held
mirror. He looks so different, like a  different person. Frankly I think he
looked better with the shaggy hair. Some  guys, in my opinion, look cuter with a
buzz cut, and for others the opposite is  true. That's just me though.

Frankie  goes, "Perfect! Thank you!" I tell him, "I still need to use the
trimming  clipper around your ears." He sits there holding the mirror looking
at himself  as I outline around his ears and taper the neck line a little
bit. I don't like  the hair squared off at the neck. It looks amateurish to
me, but that's what  most barbers do because it's quicker and easier, plus
they've convinced the  unknowing public that's the look they want. I'm
brushing hairs off his  shoulder enjoying my mini-boner as Frankie stands, brushing
at his lap. He  chuckles, them mumbles, "That was  close to a sexual
experience, Dylan. First the shampoo and then getting all my  clean hair cut off.

Awesome, dude!" Gee, he's very enthused about something so  simple. Damn,
that makes me feel good. He's a nice guy. "Glad you enjoyed  yourself,
Frankie. I've got a little bit of a haircut fetish myself so it's  kinda sexual for
me too. That's one of the  reasons I give free haircuts. I'm good at it,
but it's a little bit of a rush  too." He looks at me, "That's cool, Dylan,
but most guys wouldn't admit  something like that, ya know?" I shrug, "Why
not? It's not like I chose the  fetish. It just is."

He  helps me sweep up his hair off the floor. Then looking at my watch, I
go, "My  brother needs the car shortly, so I'll give you a lift home. Feel
free to text  me whenever you want my world renowned salon treatment again."

He looks  startled, "Um, ah, ya know, I was kinda hoping we could hang out
together and  maybe screw around a little. It's been a while for me. I mean, I
thought you and  I sort of connected, kind of." That catches me off guard,
and I'm like, "Oh,  yeah? I mean, that'd be cool, Frankie, but my brother
needs the car. He's got a  date, um, with a girl. That kind of date." He nods,
"Oh, sure, I understand." I  shrug, wondering if I even want to do 'it'
with him. I joked with myself about  it earlier, but not seriously, and I'm
really tired. I certainly never expected  him to bring it up, but he's
attractive and he wants to, but Chubby needs the  car. Frank goes, "Hey, I can call
my friend, Andy, to pick me up. I mean, if you  think it's an okay idea. He
could give me a ride home, but not until like nine  o'clock when he gets off
work. I guess that'd be too late for you, huh?" I can't  think straight!
I'm smelling the back of my hand trying to work it out in my  head. I was
planning on chilling tonight, taking a nap and then watching a Red  Sox game,
but do I want to pass up this opportunity?

He  says, "Another time maybe. I don't want to impose on you any more than
I already  have." Shaking my head, I say, "You're not imposing, but are you
sure you can  get a ride at nine o'clock?" He goes, "Positively. Well, let
me text him right  now." He texts and gets texted right back, saying, "No
problem, but he needs  directions." Together we give Andy directions from the
high school to here.  That's easier than trying to give directions from
Natick, where he works. As  Frank's sending the directions in an email, I realize
he and I are going to have  sex. I feel a little guilty about that because
of the wonderful sex-filled  weekend with Robby, but on the other hand
neither of us said anything about not  having buddy sex. I'm staring at Frankie
as he types on his smart phone, asking  myself if I even want to do this. Too
late to change my mind though, I'm pretty  much committed now.

Frank  looks up smiling, "Okay, we're all set." It's weird but I feel
nervous all of a  sudden and I rarely get nervous about side sex. I go, "Let me
text my brother,"  and I tell Chubby the Jeeps ready for him, and I hope he
has a nice time  tonight. Frankie's moving the stool to the carpeted area,
saying, "Is it okay if  I fuck you while you're lying over the stool on your
stomach? That seems  like a hot-sexy position to me, especially after getting
buzzed on this very  stool," and he rubs his buzzed head as he comes over
and takes hold of the  bottom of my t-shirt, saying, "Arms up," and I'll be
dammed if I don't lift my  arms so he can pull my shirt off. As he unsnaps
the snap on my shorts, he looks  at me asking, "Should I use a condom? I
brought a couple with me." I'm getting  that funny feeling in my balls realizing
Frank's taken charge. It feels good as  I shake my head, mumbling, "You
don't have to use one if you don't want to."  Pulling my pants down, he says,
"Good, then I won't. It feels better without one  anyhow." He's on his knees
pulling down my underpants, looking up saying, "Step  out of them, Dylan." I
lift my feet one at a time and he pulls off my shorts and  underpants
leaving them in a little pile at the middle of the room.

Still  on his knees, he pushes my clothes away from him and picks up my
dick,  muttering, "Man, it's nice of you to shave your pubic hairs. I hate
getting  pubes in my mouth, don't you?" Getting my second wind now, I'm feeling
nice,  nodding my head agreeing with him. He stokes my cock, then puts it in
his mouth  and sucks on it as I rub my fingers on his bristly head. This is
so fucking hot  all of a sudden and it happened so fast, and without any
awkwardness from  Frankie boy. He must be a lot more sexually active than I
thought he was, and  he's probably getting more than he suggested he was
getting. Not that I  particularly care.

He  does a nice job licking and sucking my cock into a fairly hard boner in
just two  minutes or so, stroking himself the whole time. Then, with my
cock in his mouth  he reaches behind me and pokes a finger at my asshole.

Rubbing around it now and  then pushing his finger inside me as I grunt, "Umpth,
ooh," and move my feet a  little. Frank rubs my prostate while taking my
boner from his mouth and holding  it in his fingers. Still rubbing my prostate
he looks up, asking, "You about  ready?" I'm definitely in one of my
submissive trances, but not from Frankie  being dominant so much as the way he just
does things in a routine way, like  it's the most normal thing in the world
for us two to be doing this. I'm just  looking at him with my hand on his
head, so he asks, "Anything wrong, Dylan?" I  murmur, "No, that felt real
good," He hooks his finger in my asshole, stands up,  and pulls me over to the
stool by my asshole. I'm taking little steps,  muttering, "What, wait, um,
oooh." At the stool he pushes his finger up my ass  as far as it'll go,
saying, pleasantly enough, "If you'll lay on the stool now,"  and he pulls up on
my asshole and I naturally bend forward, feeling a nice  submissive sense
flowing over me. He rubs the side of his finger across my  prostate, saying, "

Dylan, move back so more of your chest is on the stool, not  your stomach,"

and he uses the finger up my ass to help pull me towards him. My  cock
tightens up some more. Then it tightens even more when he reaches between  my
legs with his other hand and takes hold of my boner pulling back gently,
saying, "Move this way just a little. No, that's good, no more. Don't  move."

He  drops my cock and pulls his finger out as I moan, Aaaah, umm." Walking
around to  my head, he's taking his pants off and standing in front of me
naked. He has an  average size penis that's fairly hard. It's lifting up some,
and to the side. He  takes my hands that are gripping the seat and places
them on the leg of the  stool, "Hold on to the legs of the stool, Dylan. I'm
going to be spreading your  legs wide and I don't want you slipping off and
hurting yourself." He lifts my  chin slightly with one hand and uses his
other to rubs his semi-hard cock's head  across my lips, "Open up." I open and
suck his cock into my mouth, as he says,  "The saliva will help. Kind of a
lube, ya know?" I have a hand holding onto both  front legs of the stool with
my neck strained upwards sucking his cock. He has a  lot of pubic hairs,
and over-sized balls in an unusually low hanging scrotum.  He's also putting
out a strong scent of an unwashed body, like his unwashed  hair. I'm
helplessly into my submissive trance by now so everything seems  extremely sexy to
me. His cock bones-up pretty good, pretty fast. He rubs  my head, almost
patting it, saying, "Thanks, that's good just like  that, Dylan."  He casually
walks around back of me again and uses the side of his foot moving  my foot
way over to the left, then the other way over to the right.

He  steps back, then comes close again to move my legs further apart and
further  away from the stool with my ass hanging off the seat. He mutters,
"Good." I'm  looking back between the stool's legs seeing him from his crotch
down to his  feet. He puts the head of his cock against my asshole, humps it
in past my  sphincter muscle and grips my hips pushing his boner all the way
up my ass. I  see stars as I groan, "Ow! Oooh, fuck." He says nothing as he
pulls his boner  back and rams it back in again, then again, this time
keeping it there all the  way up my ass. He's humping against my butt cheeks
while rubbing his hands down  my sides, asking, "You okay, Dylan?" I don't want
to break the dreamy trance so  I just reply with a, "Mmmm." He says, "Good,
this feels unbelievably good to me.  It's been a while. Your asshole is
awfully tight, but good," The pain of his  abrupt entrance fades quickly. He
asks again, sounding concerned, "You're okay,  right?" I gasp, "Uh huh." He
says, "This is just a guess, but I'd say you're not  getting fucked much. Not
since the days of Carl and Louis anyway. You're way too  tight to be getting
fucked regularly. I'm thinking you and I can help each other  out. If you
want, I mean."

It's  feeling really good and I let out another soft moan, "Mmmm," then
take a chance  of losing my submissive sense, saying, "I've got a boyfriend."

He goes, "No  offense, but if the tightness of your asshole tells me
anything, your boyfriend  isn't, um, servicing you like you deserve." I just shake
my head and enjoy how  my rectum's feeling while trying to recapture the
fleeting submissive sense I  had until I spoke. Still rubbing my body, he
murmurs, "You've got a hell of a  body. Your skin feels awesome and you deserve to
be appreciated. It's  unbelievable how sexy, how sweet you smell too," and
I feel his face on my back.  "Ummmm, you smell good." I tighten my buttocks
muscles and squirm to feel his  boner move in my ass. Then moan, "Aaah,"

when the side of his boner presses  harder against my prostate. He says, "Yeah,
I know how good it must feel to you  having a hard cock up your ass, but
I'm a 'top' at heart." He does some slow  thrusting, enjoying himself. The
last thrust he humps against my ass hard and  grinds his hips, with me moaning,
"Ooooh, that feels good, Frankie."

Pulling  me further towards him until if I let go of the legs of this stool
I'd slide  right off on my face. He says, "I got you kind of helpless here,
don't I?" and  he gives the side my ass a hard slap, asking, "Don't I?" a
little louder this  time and another, "Smack!" on the side of my thigh. I go,
"Ow, dammit." He says,  "You like it like this. No way you've changed all
that much since your days with  my cousin." He gets a hold on each hip and
now it's, "Slap,slap,slap," sounds of  males fucking fast. That's always music
to my ears as the sensations in my  rectum fire up in an enticingly sexy
manner. It usually happens fast when I'm  feeling a new hard cock inside me.

Feels a little different. Everyone of  Frankie's hard thrust moves the stool
a little bit forward, my toes dragging way  behind it. In the back of my
mind I'm pissed-off I allowed myself to get in this  stupid position, but in
the front of my mind I'm groveling in this fairly good  submissive trance and
enjoying the hell out of the way Frankie's fucking me.  He's dipping down
with his hips and lifting his hips up as he drives his cock up  my ass hard. It
's a damn good hard fucking.

He  has a lot of energy too and he keeps up the pounding while grunting
with the  effort and digging his fingers into my hips. Oh my god it feels good,
 "Slap,slap,slap,slap," and I'm openly moaning now, 'Umm. umm, umm, aaah,
aaah,"  with my arms feeling numb from holding so tightly onto the stool's
legs. Frankie  is in a very easy even rhythm of hard thrusts and my orgasm is
building and  getting ready to make itself known except he's leaning against
my butt cheeks  now humping and moaning like he's going to blow his load
already, then his body  gets stiff, as he goes,  "Aaaaah! Oooh," and I feel
his climax zip into my  bowels. It a long creamy load and he's grunting and
then humping another cum  stream up my ass. Quiet now, he lays against me, his
hands on my shoulders  gasping and breathing deeply for half a minute. I'm
trying to squeeze out a  climax but it's not happening. I was maybe a minute
or two away. My rectum is  still sizzling with nerve ending sparking
pleasure, but fading quickly now that  Frankie stopped thrusting.

He  straightens up, does three lazy thrusts in my cream-filled rectum, then
pulls  his cock out slapping my ass hard, "SMACK!" with drooling cum
splattering across  both my butt cheeks. He takes another deep breath, mumbling,
"You can get up  now." I pull my legs in and get them under me, then lift off
the stool. My  shoulders do a little shudder from habit as I stroke my
softening cock. "Um,  Frankie, you stopped a little early, didn't ya?" He goes,
"Dylan, I swear to God  I needed that orgasm so fucking bad. It felt
fantastic, dude, really great. I  can't even verbalize how good that was! I just
wanna savor it for a minute." I'm  looking at him like I can't believe it, and
he finally says, "I'll get you off  later. I promise. Your ass is magic!
Did your boyfriend ever tell you that? I  haven't fucked that many guys, but
none had an ass that can compare with yours."  This is a bit weird. I bend
over to pick up my underwear. It's a funny feeling  being close to blast off,
and then... nothing.

Frankie  asks, "You getting dressed already?" I shrug, "Yeah, I guess so,"

and he says,  "Listen, if you suck me off right now I can probably finish
the fuck for you."  He holds out his sloppy cock, grinning, "You know you want
to. C'mon and get it  in your mouth." That submissive sensation is looming
and ready to float onto my  brain again, and when he walks over to cup his
hand behind my head, putting  downward pressure, murmuring, "C'mon, get down
on it and take it in your throat,  then I'll finish your fuck." Geez, this
submissive trance feels good. Some real  dominant behavior without any
obligations attached. I'm kinda hooked on side sex  of a sub/dom nature. If I say
anything it'll break this fragile trance, so I  drop to my knees and suck
his sloppy cock into my mouth with him putting both  hands behind my head. Cum
has drooled down the back of my legs and continues to  do so. It takes
about three full minutes to get his cock just hard enough that  he can push the
head into my throat making me gag like crazy until it gets past  that gag
reflex spot. Now his cock is firming up pretty good in my throat so he  pulls
my head forward and the rest of his cock goes down, down, down until his
pubic hairs surround my mouth making me think of Ryan deep throating  me.

Pulling  his cock up a little, then he pushes it down with his pubic hair
again all  around my mouth and nose. He humps against my face holding my head
between his  hands until I'm struggling for oxygen. Just before I faint, he
pulls his cock of  my throat leaving the swollen head on my tongue,
dripping precum. His cock, once  again is a full blown boner. His face is red, his
eyes look intense as I gasp  air into my lungs around the head of his boner.

My chest is heaving and my  asshole's twitching with anticipation of
Frankie's latest boner soon penetrating  my anus again. He's holding the base of
his boner with two fingers and a thumb,  pulling what's left of his foreskin
back and forth on his hard cock. I feel it  move on my tongue. His shoulders
shudder a little, then he lets go of his cock,  grabs my head between both
hands to push my head back as he slides his cock down  my throat without
giving me a chance to protest. Two slow thrust pushing my  tonsils out of the
way and then very fast wild thrusting with me gagging, water  streaming from
my eyes, his groin smacking into my face. It goes on for what  seems like
ten minutes but probably is closer to ninety seconds before he cups  behind my
head, his boner all the way down my throat with him making desperate
whining sounds as he humps against my face and blows a small load of semen down
my throat. I didn't even get a chance to taste it.

His  head's back, eyes tightly closed, a vein in his throat pulsing and his
body  stiff as a board for five seconds. It slowly relaxes until it's like
he has no  bones in his body. Sighing, he pulls his loose noodle from my
throat with a cum  and saliva strand sticking to the head for a second before
breaking off as he  steps back knocking the stool over. I fall backward to
lay on my back inhaling  deep breath after deep breath. My cock is hard and
throbbing even though I'm  enormously pissed-off. My eyes are lightly closed
until I feel I'm able to sit  up and look at Frankie. He has a very guilty
expression on his face. He's  holding his hand out, palm up like he thinks I'm
going to charge him, "Dylan, I  had no intention of doing that, I swear to
God. I couldn't fucking stop. I've  never been that sexually aroused in my
life. Something took over my brain. I'm  so sorry! I never meant to climax in
your mouth, um, throat."

He's  blubbering like he's about to cry. Sitting on the floor, my arms
behind me,  palms on the floor for support, I'm staring at him with pursed lips
and  skepticism in my eyes. I want to be really pissed-off, but he's
pleading for me  to believe he didn't intend cumming in my throat. Not at all sure
I believe him;  I nonetheless am enjoying his act. He's convincing and I
like him in spite of  the selfishness of him getting 'off' twice and not giving
a hoot if I get 'off'  or not. He's a true side-sex aficionado, I must
admit that much. Still, I've got  what's called blue balls, called that for some
reason that alludes  me.  I put on an act like I'm ready to kill, saying,
"Get over here right  now and suck my cock!" He nods his head and without
hesitating comes over, gets  on his knees and leans his head down between my
legs to take my hard boner in  his mouth. To his credit he does a very
commendable job of sucking, licking, and  stroking my boner. His closely buzzed
head scratchy on the inside of my thighs  as he bobs his head up and down my
hard cock. I stay in my original position,  sitting on the floor with my hands
behind me so his face is close to the floor.  Punishment for his naughty
double orgasm without me even having one. I'm soon  taking quick little
breaths as sensations from the head of my cock begin buzzing  and getting me to
moan at each lick of his tongue, "Oooh, ooh, umm  umm."

Frankie  boy has a very active tongue, his lips are busy as well and I see
his cheeks  sucking in, then out. "Ooh, ooh, ummmm," as my right hand leaves
the floor so I  can rub Frank's head, the memory of all his hair falling
away from his head and  sliding over my hand twirls around in my brain to go
along with sexual sensation  from my cock. The slurping sounds from Frankie's
mouth join my own whiny sounds  of sexual arousal as my hips hump lifting
my ass off the floor. A squeal from me  with cum streaming from my cock, some
oozing out both sides of his mouth. Ahhh,  a pleasurable relief. The second
shot of cum come with muscles clenching around  my groin and it feels so
good it's my turn to sigh as my body's shaking a  little, then another humps
of my hips before my body relaxes and a longer sigh  of pleasure from me.

Frank's still slurping on my softening penis making me  grin, then I push his
head away, saying, "This does not make us  even."

He's  stroking himself, then sits back in the same position I'm sitting in,
"It's a  down payment at least," he mumbles. I chuckle and he goes, "I was
telling the  truth, I didn't expect to lose my mind and deep throat you
until I climaxed. My  dick took control of my brain." I go, "That's bull shit.

You did it on purpose  because you're a sexually self-centered individual who
only cares about you're  own sexual pleasure, and using me, an innocent
novice, as the vehicle to satisfy  that insatiable sex drive of your's." He
laughs, "Have you been reading my mind  again?" Standing, I mumble, "You're my
buddy-sex idol, optimizing the very  concept of buddy-sex." He goes, "I wish
I understood what you just said because  it sounded favorable to me."

Actually, between his hot fucking that almost had  me blowing my load all over
the carpet, and his expert cock-sucking I'm feeling  temporarily sexually
satisfied. He gets up and we bump fist with me muttering,  "You're a sexual
deviate and a predator of the worse kind, although I must admit  you fuck and
suck really good." He helps me up, murmuring, "Nice tasting spunk  ya got in
your nuts by the way."

We  go in the half bath helping each other clean up. There's very little
cum on the  floor, except some that escaped from my ass. Most of our orgasms
ended up in our  mouths. We get dressed giving each other friendly and
humorous insults and then  check the refrigerator for something to eat. Nothing
there of interest because  mom eats at the restaurant almost exclusively,
except occasionally she'll have  breakfast at home. It's ten of seven so we've
got the time to walk to the Subway  shop for their version of subs. Frankie
bums another cigarette from me and we  both smoke as we walk with me grinning
to myself remembering Seth bumming  cigarettes from me and keeping count so
he could pay me back. And he did too.  Almost at the Subway shop I realize
I'm not feeling tired like earlier. Sex  rejuvenates a person.  Inside the
Subway restaurant waiting to order, I say  to Frank, "Considering the name of
this restaurant it's curious they call their  subs, 'sandwiches'. I order a
steak and cheese sandwich and Frankie  boy gets  a Italian cold cut
sandwich. They're both  okay.

As  he finishes his soda, Frank says, "Please, whatever you do, don't even
jokingly  hint to Andy anything about you and me messing around. He's my
good bud, but  he's completely straight and a bit of a homophobe. He doesn't
have a clue I'm  gay, hardly anybody does, and I want to leave it like that
for as long as I  can." I swallow the last of my cheese steak sandwich and
say, "Fuck that, I'm  'out' totally and I'm 'outing' you." Frank says too loud,
"Don't kid around,  Dylan." "Seriously" I mutter, "Fuck that, I'm
telling," and he gets all  flustered until I go, "Okay, I won't tell, but I'm
fucking your ass when we get  back to the house." He's like, "Shhh! Jesus! Keep
your voice down," and he looks  so worried it makes me laugh. He's kinda cute
when he panics. The worst thing  you can do is show fear that some stranger
will hear that you're gay because  guys are pricks and for shits and giggles
they'll pretend they're going to 'out'  you, but they won't if they're
friends. I've never 'outed' anyone, but  Frankie-boy doesn't know that. Once
I've had my 'ball breaking' fun I tell him,  "I'm kidding, for chrissakes. Your
secret is safe with me, get serious! Hey, how  many guys know you're gay
anyway?" He shrugs, "No one knows for sure. Even the  couple of guys I've had
sex with swear we're just messing around experimentally,  and of course
claiming we're straight. Oh wait, one of them, Malcolm Whyte, says  he
bisexual." I shrug, mumbling, "Whatever." I can't be critical because I was  in the
closet for like two years. A person knows the right time to 'come out' on
their own, and that time is different for everyone.

Walking  back we smoke another Marlboro Light with Frankie asking, "Do you
do much pot?"  I shake my head, "Not much. I had a fling with it during
freshman year but I  ultimately decided I'd stick to adult beverages for my
'highs' and leave others  to their joints. I don't care for the distinct,
unmistakable smell of cannabis  smoke." He goes, "Yeah? I don't mind it, but
Andy's a stoner and I think it's  becoming a problem for him. He always has some
joints on his person, so we could  get high if we wanted to." I go, "Not for
me, thanks." We walk in silence for a  couple of minutes, then he says,
"Um, I don't like taking a cock up my ass to be  honest about it. I pretend to
be cool with it, but it hurts. I'll blow you  again, but you're not fucking
me." We argue about that a little because I'm in  the mood to fuck him.

Usually I much prefer to 'bottom', but tonight I have the  urge to 'top' this
new sex buddy who interest me somehow. I know Robby's happy  to oblige me the
rare times I get the urge to 'top', and I think he likes it.  I'm pretty
sure Danny Monday mostly was the 'top' for those two. Finally I give  in to
Frankie and I admit that he fucks good and he can 'top' again with him
promising to fuck me until I climax.

Well,  I'm definitely back in Framingham obviously! It's a mystery why my
act didn't  fly in Marietta. A Monday night in Georgia, when Ryan was with
Mike, I'd be in  my room with one option: whether or not I wanted to have a
two inch fuck and  suck with Timmy. Often it wasn't worth the trouble and I'd
stay in for the  night. Maybe the difference was that in Marietta none of
the guys I gave  haircuts to were gay or interested in exploring that
possibility with me. When I  was Ray Reeves' so-called boyfriend everyone in the
neighborhood knew I was gay  because he bragged about it all over town. That
might have presented the  opportunity for guys who wondered if they might like
to try something gay to  give it a try with me. In some ways that's
complimentary, and in other  ways it isn't. Yeah, but the guys in Marietta knew I
was gay and except for  Sam's brother, Major, and he doesn't count because
he's too young, no one else  had a gay experimental inclination. I get a lot
of sex after giving haircuts to Framingham boys... maybe it's something in
the water here. Whatever, it's good  to be home.&



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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