Date: Tue, 27 Nov 2012 06:14:46 -0800 (PST)
From: donny mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: OLIVER'S ADVENTURED  Chapter 26 (Confession)   by  Donny Mumford

			    OLIVER'S ADVENTURES

			Chapter 26 (Confession)

			     by Donny Mumford


What a guilt ridden nightmare! All I need is another Aaron domination with
vegetable oil. Probably I had the nightmare about Aaron because the day
after promising to turn over a new left, I have awesome hot sex with
Myers. Hmmm, he was sweetly dominant throughout it too; a young kid like
that. He fucked me and manipulated me unbelievably from beginning to
end. And how did his smelling, sweaty, cum stained jockstrap get on me in
the first place? He had me in a daze from the minute I walked in his
bedroom; seeing him naked, except for the jockstrap had me off balance from
the start, and then magically I'm wearing the dam jockstrap. He's a
magician.  Well, I had an orgasm during the nightmare so I've added my own
cum to the years and years of stains in this jockstrap, not that you'd be
able to tell the difference. Myers says this jockstrap's never been washed,
so I won't break the tradition; I'll return it to him over Christmas break
in it's present soiled condition. Dragging my sorry ass out of the love
seat and upstairs I go into my little bathroom wondering if anyone else in
the world has ever experienced a more realistic nightmare than the one I
had about Aaron. My mouth taste like a cat's litter box, and I'm a total
mess. I must have fallen asleep within minutes of laying on the love seat
because I can't even remember the start of 'Saturday Night Live'; you know,
'LIVE FROM NEW YORK, IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT'. The rum I drank is partially
responsible for the nightmare I guess, but my conscience played the biggest
part.  Frankie's Harry Potter glasses on Aaron, and Aaron with a flattop
haircut; get real!  That would be funny if it weren't so scary. I'd grabbed
a bottle of water on my way through the kitchen, and now in my bathroom
taking a swallow I notice my hands are shaking; this really sucks! What a
relief it is to finally get out of this wet jockstrap though, and then even
better, brushing my teeth. After washing my face and shaky hands, I
carefully stuff the jockstrap under the vegetable oil stained clothes from
last night, deep in my satchel. It wouldn't do to have Mom ask, 'Who's cum
stained jockstrap is this, Oliver?'  No, that's not what I'm looking
for. Deciding I need a quick shower and then putting on those childhood
pajamas again; the ones I wore last night because I'm still feeling more
like a little kid than the cool dude I thought I was when I got home a week
ago.

Sleeping through the night without further nightmare problems, in the
morning I go to church with my parents, and then as a further self imposed
punishment, I go to brunch with my folks and the neighborhood couple we
went with last Sunday. There's no smirking or looking down my nose at
anything by me; now I'm a nice, sarcasm-free Oliver. It's my best behavior
in almost a year. I want to leave my parents with the feeling I'm a good
kid; one who loves them and appreciates them for everything they've done
for me all my life. After brunch I pack my stuff and get ready to return to
college as a changed person. I liked myself better when I was the little
mouse Oliver, peeking around corners afraid of my own shadow. Now, I'm
ashamed of my slutty self; I'm need to be better than that and I was better
than that until recently. I need the comfort of respecting myself again; ya
gotta love yourself before anyone else can, and I don't love myself at the
moment. Hell, I don't hardly know who I am anymore. Mom and dad give me a
sweet send off saying how proud of me they are, which makes me feel
deceitful, but confessing to them would just hurt them so I gotta stick to
my plan and trust Joey to be my amazing grace. The drive back to Penn is
uneventful and I find myself in a melancholy mood avoiding thoughts of the
specifics of my debauchery. That's not to say I'm not introspective and
frankly I'm pretty hard on myself during the drive.  It's just that I don't
dwell on the details, but I think about the Aaron dream and how that
hammered home how fucked-up I am about sex. The past ten days were crammed
full of sexual activity, and when I wasn't sexually active, I was dreaming
about it. Not good! I've worried about being over-sexed on and off for the
past six months and now the verdict is in: I'm over-sexed and extremely
promiscuous, and I've got to do something about it before I'm lost.

Before church this morning I'd gone on line and found a clinic that test
individuals for the AIDS virus and all that kind of thing. The clinic is
open Sundays and I can get there using the train system; driving around
Philadelphia can be problematic. I'm going to the clinic this afternoon.
I've got to see if I'm infected with anything, which I'm almost positive is
not the case. Almost positive isn't good enough though; I need to be
totally positive before I have sex with Joey. It's expensive, but I can get
the results back in twenty-four hours by paying extra. I'll go to their wed
site tomorrow and use the code they give me and it'll flash a 'P', or an
'N'; simple as that. I've already got an appointment at four o'clock and
it's already paid for; I put the fee on the credit card Christian gave me.
Of course he'll surely question me when he sees the bill and I'm going to
try coming clean with him this time.  Maybe he'll get me some professional
help too if he thinks I need it. It's amazing how different my outlook is
today driving onto the Penn campus, as compared to my outlook leaving the
Penn campus ten days ago.  Back then I was happy and excited, feeling like
a cool hot-shit, looking forward to seeing all the guys in Delaware, then
Frankie, and finally Myers.  Well, I saw them all and then some, and it
turned out very badly for me. The past ten days don't necessarily mean I'm
a worthless sex addict; I don't think I am yet. It's the trend though, an
accelerating trend of increased sexual activities; that's the alarming
aspect of it to me. I'm beginning to spiral totally out of control and I
need to establish self control and regain some semblance of self respect.

Dropping my stuff off at the drom, I need to go directly to the clinic
because the drive back took longer then I expected. The train ran on time
and I run the four blocks to the clinic where they take me in right
away. After filling out some confidential background information, they take
some blood, and I"m out in fifteen minutes, again waiting for the elevated
train. Another reason driving to the clinic would have been a bad idea is
the parking difficulties, that's if I didn't get hopelessly lost in the
first place; I often get lost in Philly. As I'm getting off the El at the
stop closest to Penn university, I see a cool looking black dude getting on
the car next to mine and I swear it's Ryjohn, the kid who showed me the way
out of the projects when I got lost on my senior class trip so very long
ago. Waving at him, but he disappears as I get the shivers thinking about
him; ah, maybe it wasn't even him. Jeez, he was so sexy though. Walking to
the university I'm thinking, 'Good, you got the test, so check off that
from your to do list'. Joey will be back from his break tomorrow sometime,
and I'm actually glad for the extra time between now and then because I'm
going to clean our dorm room and bathroom real good to impress Joey. Then
my plan for tomorrow morning, is hopefully to do Richard's and Phil's
laundry. That's if he'll let me do it a day early; I'd rather do it Monday
instead of Tuesday so there won't be any distractions Tuesday, my second
day of my new beginning. Another thing on my 'to do' list is something I'm
not going to do: don't go near the gymnast dorm or practice facility except
for dropping off and picking up Joey. Randy Rider is a danger to me because
I'm so attracted to his persona; and, what the hell, his looks too.  He has
that bossy way about him and he's so dominantly sexy hot; it's important
not to put myself in temptation's way.

At the dining hall I swipe my card and get a tray for the buffet line.
Tonight there an old standby on the menu: fried chicken, mashed potatoes,
gravy, peas, salad and a roll. Large lemonade for my drink and vanilla cake
for dessert.  Good to know that even with all the problems I have my
appetite hasn't been affected.  As I'm walking toward an empty table, Bob
Crane calls me over to eat with him and two other gymnast.  We talk about
the Thanksgiving break, how Joey's doing, football, and stuff like that.
It beats eating alone and it's nice to be accepted by some of the
gymnast. Back in the dorm I clean the place from the floor to the ceiling,
getting sweaty in the process, but it feels good to be doing something
worthwhile. When the place is as clean as it's ever been, I take a long
shower and then sleep in Joey's bed thinking about nothing except coming
clean with Joey. I'm determined to do it, but the thought of actually
saying my transgressions out loud to Joey has me nervous and
apprehensive. It a big chance I'm taking, but I trust my instincts; Joey
will help me because he's structured, smart, disciplined and all good
things I'm not, plus he says he loves me. That's a pretty good
combination. Monday after breakfast I'm nervous and apprehensive about
asking Phil for the favor of allowing me to do his laundry a day early, and
that even sounds stupid to me, but it's the sad fact of the matter. I go
upstairs to the third floor where the senior wrestler's dorm is. Standing
outside Phil's room for a few seconds getting my nerve up, and then
knocking and expecting to see that prick Phil, with his dull brown eyes and
his pointy nose, I'm surprised when his roommate Richard answers.
Richard's the one I got in trouble with in the first place. He's s real bad
ass alright; Phil's scared of Richard and I'm scared of both of them. He
says in a bored monotone, "Today is Monday, Oliver.

Did your small freshman brain think today's Tuesday?" Richard has a way of
talking down to me that makes me feel like such a little shit.  He's an
inch shorter than me too, but he's got an extra eighty pounds of muscle on
me.  His dark red hair is ugly, cut in a military, white side-wall style.
Pig eyes and real white fish-belly flesh tone. Richard's not nice and
cuddly to say the least.  The word is he's never lost a wrestling match in
high school or college.  I mutter, "Oh, oh, ah would it be okay if I do the
cleaning, I mean laundry, today?"  Richard talks over his shoulder, "Phil,
get over here and handle this."  Phil replaces Richard at the door, asking,
"What could you possibly want, nimrod?  It's Monday in case ya don't know."
One thing leads to another and I stutter my way to eventually begging my
way into getting the okay to do their laundry today.  Phil finishes by
telling me he's doing me a favor and I'll need to do him one sometime.  I
guess doing his laundry every week doesn't count as a favor in Phil's mind.
There's a lot of laundry from the ten day break. Extra clothes that
apparently their mothers won't do for them so it takes me a couple hours by
the time I wait for the wash cycles, then the dryer cycle, and then
folding.  I smoke cigarettes and drink kiwi-strawberry Snapple from the
vending machine area while practicing what I'm going to say to Joey later
this afternoon.

After two trips up from the basement to the third floor with the clean
folded laundry; then, with a sigh and a disbelieving shake of my head, I
pull my pants down and lean over Phil's desk waiting for him to exam the
laundry and give his approval.  He's on his cell phone walking around the
room talking and looking at my bare hairless ass. When our eyes meet he
give a little nod of his head to me with an especially nasty smirk, like,
'Lucky for you, you remembered to do the bare ass thing'.  It sounds like
he's talking to a girl and he's making the biggest ass out of himself if he
is; what a dork.  My stomach's sore from leaning against the sharp edge of
the desk as he talks on and on.  After forever, Phil wanders over and
casually smacks each of my buttocks twice very hard with his open hand and
then, still talking on his cell, he pulls me by my collar helping me
roughly get off his desktop.  I stand there with a red face and two red
buttocks, my cock and balls exposed. He stares at them, and then signals
with his hand I can pull my pants up. He's got a stiff dick in his pant
from gawking at my limp pecker and hanging nuts. When my jeans are up and
I'm zipping the fly, he casually gets his free arm around my neck and pulls
me against his muscular body with the side of his face against the side of
mine, saying into the cell phone, "Ya know I'm hot for you," and somehow it
seems like he's talking to me; he probably was, in his mind. Humping his
boner into my rear end I hear the squeaky voice of the girl he's talking to
from his cell phone, but can't make out what she's saying. Phil rubs the
side of his face against mine turning his head so his nose and lips are on
my cheek and I hear him inhaling nosily. He licks my cheek, nuzzles my ear,
then pushes me away from him and kicks me in the ass. Turning to look at
him, he's doing the 'shoo' motion with his hand indicated for me to leave,
which I'm only too happy to do. Phil is a classic case of a latent
homosexuality. He's the first one to call a freshman a fag, but he can't
admit he's one himself.  Ya know, it makes me wonder about wrestlers.  What
activity gives more body to body contact between two guys then wrestling.
Wrestling is second only to fucking if you ask me. I'm walking out of their
dorm room the same way I usually do, with both hands behind me rubbing my
sore buttocks; this time because I was spanked and kicked in the ass.  He
really got me good today, but that's over with until a week from tomorrow.
Okay, now I can concentrate exclusively on Joey and my other problem.

It isn't twenty-four hours since I took the AIDS test, but I go on line
anyway and click onto the clinic's website punching in my code.  The screen
shimmers delaying the results, or maybe a notice that the test isn't
completed yet, but I'm not really worried one way or the other. I'd be
shocked if a 'P' pops-up on the screen and a second later an 'N' appears
with my code under it. Then a drop down notice informs me a hard copy of
the results will arrive in the mail within five business days. I cross that
important piece of business off my 'to do' list.  Joey emailed me that he'd
arrive sometime this afternoon, and it isn't quite noon yet so I walk over
to the dining hall to get some soup and there's Randy Rider, apparently
alone, waiting to swipe his meal card.  I unconsciously rub my crotch
thinking, 'Damn, he looks hot,' as I stare at his two-tone blond hair. Then
I think of his two-tone, bright brown eyes. He's right up there on my best
list of the cute guys I've ever seen. Damn! Thoughts of sucking his cock
swirl around my brain along with thoughts of the time he sucked me off,
that was awesome. Just thinking about running my fingers through his hair
while he sucked me off is enough to get me hard! He hasn't seen me, so
turning around I run back to the dorm thinking about something even hotter
than the blow jobs we've given each other: it's the time Randy made me cum
in my pants by vigorously finger fucking me during our ultra-hot make-out,
always with those hickeys.  Randy insists on giving me hickeys just about
every time we messed around together sexually. His hickey fascination
seemed to start that time I'd come back from Delaware with Alexander's huge
hickey on my neck, Randy claiming he could give me a bigger one. I got
kinda hooked on the hickey thing because it can be so sexily stimulating it
just about hypnotizes me. Probably tied in with my submissiveness in gay
sex. Then I think briefly about Joey asking me to give him a hickey that
night he'd gotten jealous the time I'd been with Randy, and that's also the
night Joey told me he's gay. Hmmm, maybe the sexiest time with Randy was
just before Thanksgiving break when I visited him in his sick in bed. He
had a bad case of flu and to come to think of it, that was the only time I
can remember when he didn't look especially sexy.  He'd pulled down my
pants and had me jerk myself off into one of his sweat socks while he
finger fucked me, and oh my God, the things he does to turn me on are
irresistible to me.  Then, of course, I had to suck him off and he hadn't
been showering recently due to the flu, so that was memorable experience
too, but in a different way. Too many sexy thoughts! Back in the dorm room
I sit on the closed toilet seat and fight the desire to masturbate.
Groping myself through my jeans, taking deep breaths, I slowly calm
down. I'll wait here in the room for Joey 'cause it's safer. At least I
didn't give in to my desires for further sex with Randy, so that's a small
step I should be proud of, right?

Smoking a Marlboro Light, sitting on the dormitory front step freezing my
ass off, I'm waiting for Joey while wondering if it's fair of me to unload
all my problems on him. "Hey, Dylan, so this is your dorm." I'm like,
"Huh?" as I turn and see a freshman gymnast I've seen at practice, but
don't know his name. He saunters up the sidewalk to where I'm sitting, and
says, "Hi, I'm one of Joey's teammates, Evan Blair. I've seen you at
practice and just wanted to say you're pretty special taking care of Joey
Gallo like you do. That's must be a lot of work, dude." I go, "Hi, Evan,
nice to meet ya, but you're giving me too much credit. I joined the
assistance group for selfish reasons, I wanted my car on campus and as you
know that's a no-no for us freshman." He says, "Whatever your reason, it's
still damn nice of you. Do you mind if I sit with you awhile?" I go, "Not
at all, I'm waiting for Joey to arrive; that's what I'm doing out here, and
having a smoke too; we're not suppose to smoke in the dorm." He walks up
and sits on the step next to me, a bit too close if you ask me. Evan asks,
"Could I bum a cigarette off ya? I gave up smoking at the beginning of the
semester, but I sneak one every now and then; hard habit to break, ya
know." I go, "Yeah, that's what I hear, although I haven't tried quitting
yet. I'm going to quit when I graduate, at least that's my plan." Holding
out my pack of Marlboro Lights, Evan takes a cigarette, mumbling, "My brand
too, cool." Giving him my cigarette, he lights his off of mine as I stare
at him. All gymnast aren't cute, not by a long shot, but Evan is.

As he's passing my cigarette back, we look into each other's eyes and I
think, 'Uh oh,' because he stares back into my eyes too long; that's a sign
I've picked up on; it means, 'gay alert'. I'm not sure if a disproportion
percentages of gymnast are gay, but I think I read it's true. It's a good
thing I'm turning over a new leaf because Evan has Frankie's bright red
hair, dark blue eyes, and pale complexion. I break eye contact with one of
my fake coughs, pretending to cough into the side of my fist. Evan says,
"You're a friend of Randy Rider's, ain't ya?" I change the subject, "Hey,
we're students at the University of Pennsylvania; we don't say ain't," and
then I do a fake laugh to go with my fake cough, feeling myself blush. He
goes, "You're right, let me rephrase the question. You're a friend of Randy
Rider's, aren't you?" I hedge, "Well, I don't know if Randy would agree
with that, but I know him. As co-captain of the team he took Joey and me to
lunch when we first arrived on campus, as a sort of greeting for Joey."
Evan says, "Oh yeah, Blake took me and Dickie Norman to lunch on our first
day too. Um, how does Joey, you know, go to the bathroom without the use of
his arms? I've always wondered about that?" Avoiding the question, I try
chuckling while saying, "As far as I know, you don't need arms to go to the
bathroom, heh heh." He smiles showing the cutest smile with dimples on both
cheeks. Beautiful teeth too. His hair is cut really cute as well; it's the
style where it's short all around and just long enough to lay down on top
of his head with the short bangs flipped up in front. His hair is dry,
without mousse or hair tonic, and I'd love to run my fingers through it
like I used to do with Frankie. I haven't thought of Frankie too much
lately because Aaron's been on my mind, and now Joey, but the old version
of me would be all over Evan. Damn, it's so ironic that in high school I
was an outcast without friends, and now boys want to be friends with me and
maybe more than friends. I gotta watch myself. I mumble, "I know what you
mean, Evan, but that topic is kinda embarrassing for Joey and me." He goes,
"Oh, I apologize, sorry. Um, so you need to wipe his ass and direct his
dick when he's pissing; is that it?" Taking a drag from my cigarette, I
mutter, "Something like that," and Evan says, "Dude, don't be embarrassed,
I think it's admiral of you, and if ya even need help with that I'm
available, haha." He's leaning his head down to sort of look me in the eyes
as I'm looking at the sidewalk. There's a grin on his cute mouth as I
glance over at him, muttering, "He's gonna be able to handle that himself,
ya know, now that he has his casts off." "Oh, he got his casts removed over
the break, huh," Evan says, then adds, "Too bad."

Not wanting to touch that comment, I wonder if gay gymnast are all as
blatantly open about it as Randy, and now Evan, seem to be. Joey wasn't,
but his situation is different being incapacitated until now. Moving on to
a safer topic, I ask, "How ya doing in your freshman year, Evan?" He talks
while smoke drifts from his mouth and nose, "It's harder then I expected,
the workload I mean. Guess you're not finding it all that hard though." I
frown, asking, "Why would you say that?" He shrugs, "Well, you being the
valedictorian of the senior class, I assumed you're pretty freakin' smart,
that's all." How the hell does he know I was valedictorian?" I ask him,
"How'd ya know that?" Another shrug, "I forget, someone told me I
guess. You had to give Joey baths too, huh?" Back on that subject. Slightly
annoyed, I say, "Yes, I needed to do everything for him. Why so
interested?" He mutters, "I don't know. Hey, did you know Donny Sinclair
was gay? He's the gymnast who cuts our hair for free. He's an excellent
hair stylist; never been to barber college either." I go, "I've seen Donny,
but I didn't know he was gay." He says, "Yeah, Donny's gay; there are a few
gay gymnast ya know, but that's nothing to be ashamed of. Gays are cool,
don't ya think?" Like most gymnast, Evan's got a smallish, but tight
awesome body to go along with his cute face, and Frankie's red hair. I do
another fake cough, muttering, "Wonder where Joey is?" Evan takes the
opportunity to pat my back when I do my fake cough, then he lightly
squeezes the back of my neck, quietly saying, "I've wondered what it would
be like to mess around with a gay boy. I'm curious, ya know? Did you ever
try it? With another boy, I mean." I look at him, then say, "Of course I
have, I'm gay myself, but I guess you already knew that." He shrugs again,
mumbling, "Yeah, come to think of it, somebody mentioned that to me. Hmm,
can't remember who though," as his hand lightly ruffles my hair at the back
of my head. Then he says, "Bet you don't have any trouble hooking up with
other gay boys, do ya? Being you're like the cutest guy on campus."

His hand feels nice playing with my hair, his fingers lightly scratching my
scalp. With chills running down my back I can't resist reaching over and
ruffling his hair, it feels just like Frankie's silky soft hair. Trying to
joke as I run my fingers through his hair, I'm chuckling, saying, "You got
a thing for my hair, Evan? You have hair just like a summer boyfriend of
mine had." He goes, "It's not just your hair, Oliver, I got a thing for
you, period. Ya wanna mess around sometime?" He's grinning that sweet grin
of his, looking good enough to eat. I go, "Yeah, I would, but I won't." He
asks, "Why not; you in a committed relationship or something? It's not with
Randy, I know that much because that boy's gone back with his boyfriend." I
say, "No, it's not Randy, but someone I'd rather not mention." He squeezes
my neck saying, "You've got the smoothest skin; it's great to touch. Um, do
you prefer the bottom or the top during sex?" Jeez, another overconfident
gay boy. Maybe it's being an athlete that builds their confidence. He's a
very desirable gay boy himself. Shorter than me, apparently confident,
excellent looks and body and I want him, but the problem is I need to prove
to myself I have willpower, that I'm not a gay slut. It's not easy though
as I squeeze the back of his neck, like he's doing to me. I mumble,
"Thanks, you do too; your skin feels nice and that summer boyfriend I
mentioned, with hair like your's, has skin like you do too." He smiles, and
I look down, muttering, "Same eyes too; it's freaking me out a little." He
says, quietly, "I'll be a good top for you, Oliver. I do it hard and I'll
bet you like it that way, don't ya?" Without thinking, I mutter, "Yeah, I
guess I do," and realize my dick's hard in my pants. I want to adjust
myself, but don't dare. Evan asks, "Where do you want me to do it? Can we
use your room?" I swallow hard, shaking my head 'no'. He gets closer to me
and puts his arm around my neck pulling our heads together. A quick kiss on
the side of my face, as he whispers in my ear, "I like to put a cock ring
on my bottom boy, you okay with that, Oliver?" and a more blatant kiss near
my mouth follows, right out here where anyone can see us. He smells sexy
and I lean against him, muttering, "If you want, but I've never had a cock
ring on; never even seen one." His hands on the other side of my face,
fingers spread, holding the side of my face against his, as he whispers,
"Yeah, you'll wear one for me and I got a real tight one just for you. I'll
fuck you doggie style for your first one, real hard like you like it. Okay,
Oliver?" I've slipped into my trance because he's so confident about
everything, and he reminds me of Frankie, and I'd like to wear a tight cock
ring and have Evan fuck me hard.

He's got his arm around my waist as he stands, helping me stand, saying,
"Come on, Oliver, you need it bad. My roommate's not back from break yet
and he isn't expected until tomorrow morning." As I'm getting up I glance
down and see the bulge in his pants; looks like another big dick on a small
frame. Then I see Mrs. Gallo's big black car conspicuously coming towards
us. Brand new black Mercedes Benz and I snap out of it, saying, "Here
comes, Joey now." Evan mutters, "Fuck," then, "We'll hook up another time,
okay?" I go, "I don't know, Evan. Um, like I said, I'm in a committed
relationship." He chuckles, saying, "Yeah, you did mention that, but you
want it from me anyway. Have you ever passed out from the intensity of your
climax? You will when I spank you and fuck you 'cause the cock ring delays
your orgasm, letting it build and build. You're the perfect sub and I'm
gonna do you like you've never been fucked before." He ruffles my hair,
chuckling, "Damn, you're cute. We'll hook up soon, Oliver. It'll be
awesome; you are so perfect, you're my perception of perfection anyway. I'm
excited about this." Hypnotized again, I stare at his mouth when he talks,
wanting to taste him. Like Frankie his pale complexion makes him look so
clean; it's like he's brand new. He puts a hand on the back of my neck, the
other one deliberately reaches down and rubs my boner as I squirm leaning
into him. Then, looking me in my eyes hypnotically, Evan smiles and
squeezes my balls making me screech out. Chuckling, he goes, "See ya later,
Oliver," and he saunters away so light on his feet he's almost floating. I
somehow move a little, muttering, "Um, thanks, I mean, that hurt," and look
down to the street as Mrs Gallo parks the car, and there's Joey's sitting
shotgun. He's not looking up here though, he's looking out the window at a
kid who's walking by on the brick sidewalk. With Evan propositioning me,
putting me in a submissive trance, I hadn't even noticed that kid go past
us. And, why's Joey's staring at the kid anyway? Well, the kid is a little
bit hot with that awesome ass. There's a twinge of jealousy in me seeing
Joey's looking at another boy, but at least he didn't see Evan molesting
me. Glancing at Evan, but he's not looking back at me; he's scrutinizing
the hot boy, just like Joey. Man, do I have a long way to go getting
control of myself. It took Evan just long enough to smoke a cigarette, and
I was ready to go with him to get fucked with a cock ring around my
dick. That wasn't a fair test though because he's like Frankie's twin, and
I'm not over Frankie yet. Just bad luck for me that Evan looks so much like
Frankie. Then, snapping back into the moment, I step on my cigarette butt,
saying to myself, "Will power, Oliver!" and then glance at Evan's one last
time, thinking, 'Fuck, he's hot!,' then pop a stick of Spearmint gum in my
mouth, and walk down to greet Joey.

Joey's now looking through the car window directly at me and he has the
cutest smile on his face; even cuter than Evans, and it's Joey I'm thinking
about now. His smile makes him look like he's fifteen years old, instead of
eighteen.  Inside the car his hair looks black, but I know it's dark brown
and it hasn't been cut for a while so it's wavy instead of curly. His hair
is curly when it's cut short by the gymnast barber Evan mentioned, but I
forget his name. Joey has that beautiful olive complexion, his dark blue
eyes seemed to sparkle and he looks happy to see me. Opening his car door,
Joey goes, "Dude, whassup?  Thanks for being here to meet me." I beam back
at him wanting to kiss him. When Joey's around all my attention's on
him. That why I think he's the answer to my oversexed situation. Swinging
his legs around, he goes, "Hey, Oliver, wait'll you see this," but before
he can get out of the car, Mrs Gallo snaps, "Joseph!  You need to have
Arthur help you or you'll trip and break something else." Then to me, she
says, "Can't you see he wants to get out?  My God, son, wake-up and do your
job!"  There are many things I'd like to say to Mrs. Woodpecker, but I keep
them to myself. Joey's embarrassed by his mother's behavior, but he and I
have experienced it before so he just blushes slightly and rolls his eyes
at me smiling an apology, and then makes a funny face like, 'What can I do,
dude?  She's my mother'. Then to her, he says, "Mother, you know very well
his name is Oliver, not Arthur, and I want to do stuff myself now. I don't
need help anymore."  With that he pulls himself off the seat and then
reaches for me as he's standing up.  He mumbles, "Well, actually this leg
is still weak, Oliver, so let me hold onto you a second."  Mrs. Woodpecker
orders me, "Get your arm around his shoulders and help him get to the side
walk.  For God sake, use some common sense."  She gets out her side of the
car and comes around for an awkward hug, telling Joey, "I'm late for my
doctor's appointment, Joseph. Arthur will help you to the dorm. Go ahead
now." He gives me a funny expression, as his mother points her finger at
me, saying, "Get right back out here when you get Joseph settled,
Arthur. You need to get his luggage out of the trunk."

It's so nice feeling Joey's body again, but I get a tear in my eyes
thinking about dropping my problems on him, and about how humiliating it's
going to be. Our relationship might change too; he might think I'm a slut,
and who would blame him? All of a sudden I have doubts about confessing,
and I don't want to do it.  As I'm walking Joey to the dorm I'm telling
myself to rethink this plan while Joey's quietly saying, "Thanks for not
dropping a few F-bombs on mommy dearest, Oliver. Hey, I really missed you,
man. Actually I don't need help walking, I just love to feel your body
against mine."  There's a lump in my throat, as I croak, "I'm glad we're
roommates Joey, or else how would I ever have met your sweet mom."  He
laughs and calls me a dick. His mother's been a bit of a problem his whole
life, according to Joey.  I call her Woody Woodpecker because she has
reddish hair, a reddish face, and sharp facial features.

Maybe her face is reddish because she gets a lot of Botox injections;
that's my best guess.  Joey's adopted and luckily doesn't look anything
like Ms. Woodpecker. He told me he's adopted our first night together.  He
was adopted at age two days; and according to Joey, his adoptive parents
have always been generous to him, but not particularly affectionate. Yeah,
I guess some people just aren't.  Joey was mostly raised in private
boarding schools, from first grade till now. When Joey's inside the dorm, I
run back to the car for his luggage. The trunk lid is open and Mrs. Gallo
is back in the driver's seat checking her watch.  We exchange no words, I
get the luggage, close the trunk and off she goes.  Not a real warm hearted
individually, but maybe woodpeckers aren't warm hearted either. Back
inside, Joey's get into a non-stop explanation about how fantastic it is
getting his casts off, and how the rehabbing he's been going through for
his arms and his leg is grueling work. It was extremely painful for the
first week, but now he can do the exercises without too much pain. His
healed broken bones and unused muscles will ache some until he's back to
full strength. He fills me in with much more rehab information than I
actually care to know, and at one point I stop him with my finger tip on
his lips; he looks up and I kiss him. Joey loosely puts his arms around me
and we do an open mouth kiss for two minutes before continuing to get him
situated.

He and I unpack his suitcase and put his clothes away while Joey's sharing
more details about his break, and me dreading sharing mine with him.  When
he runs out of things to say he asks me about my break and what I did that
was fun. Shrugging I mumble, "Oh, my break was okay, but I'm mostly
interested in your recovery, and how that's going." Joey says, "Well, to
sum it all up, Oliver, I can do everything for myself now without help,
except for wiping my ass, bathing myself, and jerking off.  Other than
those few things I'm good, so your responsibilities will be greatly
reduced."  He caught me off guard with that and I frown, muttering, "What?"

Joey laughs, pointing at my face, blurting out, "The look on your face when
I said wiping my ass was priceless".  He's his usual fun loving self having
a good time. He hugs me loosely around the neck, which is a new and
wonderful experience for me. Sliding the side of my face against his, I
mumble, "With all your details of rehab, you forgot to mention you'd
attended a school for stand-up comedians."  He's quiet for a second, then a
tighter hug with a kiss on my cheek, as he whispers, "I love you, Oliver"
and I say, "Right back at you, dude." With his hand, Joey does what Evan
did a little while ago, ruffles my hair on the back of my head as I hug him
around the waist and we kiss again, this time for a minute or so.  Joey
told me once that he's never made-out with anyone except me, but his French
kissing, and his kissing in general, have me wondering about that.  He's
either a quick learner or he'd done a lot of kissing with someone.

We would probably follow up the kissing with some type of sexual
interaction, except someone is knocking on our door.  Four gymnast are at
the door anxious to see Joey without his casts; none of the four is Evan
and I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed.  They bustle inside with
lots of loud talking and ball-breaking comments. Gymnast as I've mentioned,
unfortunately, aren't all cute; and many of them have average or even below
average looks, and others are too musclebound for my taste, but some of
them like Joey, Randy, and now that Evan kid are not only extremely cute,
but have the hottest bods I've ever seen. Swimmers are next best I think.
The gymnasts treat me okay, generally speaking, but not like they'd treat
me if I were a gymnast; they treat me okay, like I said, because I take
care of Joey. The six of us hang out in the room exchanging lies of sexual
conquest over Thanksgiving break, then all of us walk over to the dining
hall for dinner. No one's in a hurry during dinner, so it's around eight
o'clock when we finish eating and wander over to the gymnast dorm where
everyone gives Joey a big congratulatory greeting for getting his casts
off.  He'll be doing regular workouts with the team before the end of the
year.  I'm happy for Joey, but feel a little left out of things at the same
time. Joey's tired by the time we're finally walking back to our room, he's
saying, "All kidding aside, Oliver, would you mind doing our regular
bathing routine with me for a few weeks.  My arms get sore during the day,
and anyway I love our bath time together. Don't you?"  He's in a pensive
mood now, and maybe that's because he knows our intimate hygiene routine is
coming to an end, or maybe it's just that he's tired. I go, "Yeah, I love
our bathing routine, Joey, you know that." In our dorm room we go directly
into the bathroom.

Joey can undress himself, but his leg's unsteady and he needs help getting
into the tub of hot water.  His pubes have grown in a half inch and as he
sits in the tub it's cute seeing him blush when he asks if I'll shave them
for him; we both know he has a fetish about shaved pubes, and that he'll
probably have an orgasm while I'm shaving them. Biting my lip to keep from
laughing at that, because it's serious business for Joey, I help him get
out of the tub. After drying him off a little, he sits on the chair I'd
moved into the bathroom weeks ago for situations just like this. Wrapping a
warm wet washcloth around his pubic area I see his dick is already getting
stiff, not a boner, but stiff from anticipation of his pubes being
shaved. Grinning, I stroke his stiffy a few times enjoying the uncut skin
sliding up and over, and then off the head of that big cock of his.  Joey
groans, "Ohhhh, God, that feels good, Oliver. Sure missed you doing that,
and I thought of it often; you I thought of almost constantly. I got it bad
for you, Oliver, and I can't even be cool about it anymore." Kissing him
I'm muttering, "Jeez, that's sincerely sweet, Joey. I thought of you a lot
too. Did ya get my mushy email?" He goes, "Not until yesterday when we got
home. I didn't take my laptop to my grandparents because they aren't
connected to the internet. Your email brought a tear to my eyes, Oliver; it
was touching, dude." I tell him I figured his grandparents probably didn't
have internet service as I stroke his cock a few more time; damn, I like
doing that for him. Naturally I want to suck on it, but Joey and I haven't
got that far yet in our reunion and maybe he's looking forward to the
thrill of a spontaneous climax. Those spontaneous climaxes are hot; I've
had a few myself. For now I'll have to just let my mouth water thinking
about the taste of Joey's big cock.  Great cock on that kid, and it's huge
and hard by the time I'm done lathering shaving cream on him. The uncut
foreskin skin reaches only halfway up his swollen cock head now that it's
this hard.  With the first scrape of the razor on his belly, he moans,
"Ohhh," and jerks his hips upward as a spurt of precum splashes out of his
pee slit, then drools down the shaft onto the back of my hand. We haven't
done this for almost two weeks and apparently Joey isn't going to wait for
the spontaneous climax this time; he has the use of his hands now so, when
I let go of his boner, he starts fisting it as I remove another strip of
his pubes with a swipe of the safety razor.

His eyes are open wide, staring right at his pubic hairs being shaved, and
with the third swipe of the razor Joey straightens out both legs stiffly,
bucks his hips spurting out a squirt of watery com or precum. I stare at
the muscle definition in his stomach as he tightens them, grunting through
clenched lips, "Oh God," and a long stream of cum shoots straight up and
then comes down on his shoulders and belly, spraying droplets of cum on my
face.  It's messy already as Joey continues with tight strokes on his boner
while my cock tightens in my pants. I should have gotten undressed since
I'll be getting in the tub with Joey eventually anyhow... damn! More
strokes of the razor with Joey's stroking his boner, then a squeal from him
as four quick spurts fly from his cock. He jerks his cock down and one of
the spurts hits my cheek. He's moaning with sexual pleasure as drools of
cum are drawn up from his nuts until both nuts are dry. Then with a long
breathy sigh he leans back against the toilet tank with his eyes closed and
his mouth open.  He looks so innocent, like maybe he's just had his first
climax ever at age twelve or thirteen. That's how he probably looked back
then too. Wanting to kiss him as he lazily strokes his softening penis, I
finish the shaving instead and let him enjoy the after affects of
climaxing. The pubes shaving doesn't take long and I'm done before he's
recovered from his cum explosion. As Joey sighs again, I get undressed and
then help him get back into the tub, with him muttering, "Oh man, thanks
for that, Oliver," meaning the shaving, accommodating his fetish. We do the
regular bath routine, but Joey's very tired from the trip and his knee is
aching so we go to bed kind of early without any additional sexy play.  He
tells me he doesn't have nearly the stamina or strength in his arms and
legs he had prior to his accident.  Being in a wheelchair for three months
weakened him and muscle atrophy, the wasting away of muscle tissue happens
with disuse. The degree of atrophy surprised Joey, but his doctor says the
therapy will reverse that in time, but it'll be painful at first although
vital he follows all the exercises. So that tires him out too. He's
sexually satisfied for the moment, but I'm extremely horny, which isn't
anything new of course. My recent commitment to do something about my
runaway sex drive is very much on my mind so I sweat it out and don't jerk
off even after Joey falls asleep. He didn't say anything about sleeping
together and I didn't bring it up because I know I'd need sexual relief I I
got in bed with Joey; that boy is so sexy to me. I want to show him I can
control myself, but if he suggest other sexual activities between us he'll
get no argument from me. The point is, I want to wait until he initiates it
to help improve my willpower.

Our first day back to classes, and Joey's gymnastic practice after that,
both go smoothly. The professors seem to be satisfied they've weeded out
the students who can't keep up and our assignments are lighter. Hopefully
this becomes a trend and today doesn't turn out to be an aberration.  I
kinda miss pushing Joey in his wheelchair, but he insists on walking as
much as he can. It's necessary to have the wheelchair available though,
when his leg gets to aching too much we'll use it. I'm pushing it to and
from practice sometimes with Joey in it and sometimes with it empty. After
dinner at the dining hall, we do our assignments together at Joey's
desk. Finished with that, we sit out on the stoop and smoke a cigarette
with Joey being kind of quiet and I wonder if he's having second thoughts
about doing sex together. I've slipped back a little into a more
pessimistic outlook now, as opposed to my gung-ho, positive outlook when I
was fucking, or getting fucked, with every willing gay boy I ran into. And
I'm honest with myself about Evan yesterday, I know I'd have gone with him
if Joey hadn't showed up in time to bring me to my senses, so Joey's
already helped me with my sexual addiction, and he doesn't even know
it. Maybe I won't actually need to confess to Joey, just stay by his side
and concentrate solely on him. It's when Joey isn't around I get myself in
trouble. That seems like a copout though; not confessing to him I mean.

Then, flicking his cigarette butt behind a shrub, Joey asks, "Um, no
pressure, Oliver, but do ya wanna fool around?" He asked that so damn
sweetly, but instead of saying what I desperately to want say, which is,
'Oh yeah, Joey!!!', I quietly ask, "Can we talk about something first?"
Joey mumbles, "Please don't, Oliver. Not if it's about your boyfriend?
What's his name, the redhead? I've been worried he might have decided
you're not allowed to continue our relationship. You're so honest you
probably told him about me, and I knows how head over heels you are for
him. You haven't said anything about us having sex since I got back, so
that's got me worrying we won't be having any sexual encounters except
maybe jerking off." Okay, this is why he's been quiet all day. I go, "That
isn't the case at all, Joey, I very much want to have sex with you, but..."
and then all my rehearsed confessions desert me; my mind is a blank as far
as that goes. Or maybe I'm using this diversion to wimp out on my planned
confession. Maybe something else will work better, so taking a deep breath,
I try a different approach, "Will you be my boyfriend, Joey?"  He says,
"Oh, I thought we already were boyfriends," and I go, "Um, yeah, but I mean
will you go steady with me? I'm over Frankie, well not totally, but I'm
working on getting over him because he's not who I thought he was. How
'bout it Joey, just you and me exclusively?" Joey scrunches up his face
like he isn't sure if I'm goofing around or if I'm serious. It's
understandable, he doesn't want to be embarrassed by saying, 'I'd love to',
and then find out I'm only kidding. In a halting way, he kiddingly goes,
"Um, Oliver, I believe thirteen and fourteen year old boys and girls go
steady. We're two college gay boys lucky enough to be stuck together as
roommates for months on end, twenty-four/seven, dude.  That sounds pretty
steady to me."  Like I said, his manner is half joking, but when I drop my
head, he asks, "What's wrong Oliver?  You haven't been your old self since
coming back from holiday break."

Looking away from him, puffing out my cheeks and exhaling air through my
lips, I mumble, "Oh man, there isn't any way I can avoid doing this to you,
Joey. That is, if what I hope happens is ever going to happen; for that I
need to unload my problem on you." Sounding nervous, he quietly asks, "What
do you hope happens?" and then I tell him, "I hope you'll help me, Joey. I
think I've got a serious problem being promiscuous. I've been having sex
with any boy that wants to and it seems one gay boy leads to another and my
opportunities have been many lately." He pats my back, muttering, "Do you
want to tell me about it; you don't need to if you don't want to." I go,
"Yeah, I do need to or you won't know how messed up I am." He says, "Lets
go inside, Oliver, it's cold out here." We walk inside and he lays on his
bed, and before I lose my courage, I tell him about me driving to
Alexander's and about Anthony giving me the haircut Alexander wanted me to
have.  And about Anthony coming on to me, and me saying no. Joey
interrupts, "Well, that doesn't sound like promiscuous behavior to me. I'm
not sure I would have said no."  Wishing I could stop right here, I go on
to tell Joey about that night. By the time I've covered the Batman and
Robin parade routine Joey isn't looking at me, as he mutters, "You have got
to be kidding me." When he hears about the silent auction he's back to
being silent himself. He makes some kind of dismissive sound as I'm
describing the sixty-nining with Spunky.  Deep, deep, dead silence as I
continue, and I'm on a roll now flogging myself by leaving nothing
out. Telling him about Bobby and me, and then me sleeping in Alexander's
bed with him, and then Alexander feeding me the sandwich at lunch, and the
twins later on about five that afternoon.  He turns over with his back to
me as I describe the first exposure with Aaron when he'd just mesmerized
me, and how I kept going back to the hoagie shop hoping to find him
working. By now I don't even know if Joey's still awake as I continue to
mumble on and on in a monotone telling about Frankie about all the sexual
encounters I've had during the break. The only reaction from Joey is his
body seems to tighten when he hears that Frankie and I are done forever,
but it slumps down again when I begin describing the supply room, vegetable
oil spanking and fucking that Aaron laid on me.  Well, his body language
indicates Joey's still awake and listening anyway.

Taking another deep, long noisy breath, I confess about Myers and me
fucking and before I'm done, Joey yells, "Will you ever shut the fuck up,
I'm trying to get to sleep. I sincerely do not need to hear anymore of your
disgusting life style. I can't hear another word from you!"  I stop talking
immediately and the silence in the room becomes deafening.  I don't know if
he went to sleep then or not; I know I didn't. Guess I was expecting too
much from Joey. In hindsight I shouldn't have been so inclusive with my
descriptions; I should have used general terms. But no, I needed to be
completely honest with him or what's the sense in telling him at all. Guess
he doesn't want to go steady now, and maybe he'll request his room be
changed. Humph, guess I lost a roommate. Well, roommate problems are
rampant in college dorms. Ya know, after all I've done for Joey I expected
a better response than, 'Will you ever shut the fuck up,' but it was
obviously just wishful thinking. And another thing, forget about that old
saying that confessions good for the soul. I feel like a piece of shit and
I'm humiliated, not only for living the last ten days like I did, but for
confessing about it to Joey. Yep, I'm back on the shit express, just like
high school and this time I've got nobody to blame but myself. Still, I
thought Joey would be more understanding since he loves me and all
that. Yeah, I'm surprised. Shocked too. Around midnight, I slowly get off
my bed, get undressed and then get back in bed under the covers and
sometime later I finally fall asleep.

My last conscious thought was, 'I never cried. Usually I cry at tragedies,
but this tragedy I just hated on myself till I collapsed into a deep sleep.

to be continued...   Chapter 27 (Joey the next day)

   Donny Mumford  thin at 20@yahoo.com

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