Date: Tue, 7 Sep 2010 06:00:49 -0700 (PDT)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION  Conclusion    by Donny mumford

			 DYLAN'S SUMMER   VACATION

	    Conclusion Part 1 of 3 (previously titled Epilogue)
			    by  Donny  Mumford

It's a perfect day at the  shore with temperatures in the mid-eighties and sunny
skies above with a nice breeze off the ocean; maybe  the most beautiful day of
the last two weeks. I only mention this because today is Saturday, the  day
we're leaving Wildwood. Right now Chubby and me are in the  rental office trying
to return the condo keys; the moms are already on their way home.  Even though
the moms have a head start, Chubby and I will be passing them in short  order
'cause they don't drive much over the speed limit. Chubby and me have a firm
rule that when motoring on major highways we go fourteen  miles an hour over the
speed limit. Cops  won't usually stop you unless you exceed the speed limit by
fifteen miles an hour and there are many drivers going faster than that so
they're the ones getting speeding tickets. Anyway, this little chore of
returning the condo keys  should be a simple matter except it isn't; there's a
new receptionist at the rental  office and she's flustered by the number of
people surrounding her desk. New renters are clamoring for the keys to their
rental places while the departing renters are trying to return keys; this
process is turning into a complete pain in the ass! Hmmm, wonder what an
incomplete pain in the ass would be like.  One of the problems is that too many
people are talking loudly at the same time while the receptionist, if you can
believe this, is talking on  the  phone! She's holding her finger in the air,
like, "just a second!" but this has little or no affect. It's hot in  the office
and absolutely nothing is getting accomplished. We've  been here  ten minutes
and it's just plain stupid; last year  there was  a basket labeled "rental key
returns" which handled the entire matter without human  intervention screwing
things up. Finally, holding the envelope containing the keys and the  rental
papers in the air, Chubby shouts, "Returns for 108B, Ocean  Road condo," and he
drops the envelope on the receptionists desk, a big fake smile on his cute face.
Who could resist that face?  The receptionist looks startled, holds the
telephone against her breast glaring at Chubby. Failing to scare Chubby with her
mean expression, she picks-up the envelope with the tips of her thumb and index
finger, like she's picking up a turd, and offers it back  to Chubby, muttering,
"Kindly wait your turn, young man... I'm on the telephone!" He ignores her offer
of the envelope, points at it twice with his index finger, like he's shooting
it, and says, "You have  a nice day now!" then backs out  through the crowded
room with the receptionist  calling after him, "Hey! Hey, heyyy!". I follow him
out the door chuckling because  Chubby  rarely uses that "have a nice day"
comment; it's usually a last resort before letting loose with an f-bomb laden
tirade. "Ha ha!" that would be something to see alright. Chubby's ears are red;
he's pissed!

We get in the Jeep, Chubby mumbling, "What an idiot!" and just to break his
balls a little, I fake sincerity, claiming, "Oh, she seemed nice enough," which
has Chubby snapping his head around, "Nice enough...?" but he sees me smirking
and then he chuckles, and says, "I wonder if she's related to Mary Jo's friend,
Marsha?" I laugh although I'm not sure what he means by that. Today's perfect
shore weather  makes me yearn to stay awhile longer, but at the same time I have
mixed emotions about it: on the one hand I wish we were just starting our two
weeks in Wildwood, but on the  other hand I'm anxious to see Robby 'cause we
need to talk. Obviously I've been less than  celibate the past two weeks and I
need to remember that fact and be open-minded when it comes to whatever Robby's
been up to. That's maybe easier  said than done, but I need to do it anyway
because my less than open-minded initial take on the garage matter wasn't fair
to Robby. I'm the last person to be critical of him getting a little nookie on
the side. We've only talked that one time since I've been away, but we did
manage to get the matter out in  the open at least. Tonight we'll need to
actually  discuss it and I'm assuming that's going be a tad awkward which is why
I have this uncomfortable nervous feeling in  my gut.

Then I hear, "Why so  quiet, Dylan?" Chubby and me are in the Jeep flying down
the Garden State Parkway with  Chubby driving. I'm like, "Huh? What's  that,
Chubby?" then I quickly add,  "Oh, quiet... yeah, guess I'm feeling  a little
sad that our vacation's over. How 'bout you?" He says, "Well, this two weeks
sure has been different from  past vacations, but it was great just the same
and, hell, I'd like to stay longer too." I'm nodding my head and Chubby
wistfully adds,  "Everything's a little different this year because we're
getting older, I guess." I go, "We're not that old, Chubby. You're always
talking about us  growing-up; what's the rush?" He says, "I'm in no hurry!" And
then, changing to a positive subject, he excitedly claims, "Our tattoos rock!
You had a great idea with that, Dylan!" I say, "Oh, it's my devotion to four
leaf clovers that made me do it." He's like, "I'm so sure! By the way, ya outta
wipe your mouth, dude, there's a little bull shit left on your chin." Then he's
back to evaluating the vacation, "I had fun in a lot more areas than just
getting a tattoo, but to be honest, having Mary Jo with  us the first  week
wasn't too cool,  was it?" I say, "Oh, it wasn't so bad, I  guess; and  anyway,
it wasn't your fault she was here." I didn't jump on the bandwagon and make
Chubby feel bad about Mary Jo because I enjoyed a few sexual adventures while
Chubby was occupied with her. I tell him, "Bottom line; I always  think  it's
best when it's just you and me doing stuff, but you already know that, don't
ya?" Chubby holds his fist over and I bump it with my fist, as he mumbles,
"Yeah, I know,  Dylan. I think it's awesome when it's just you and me too, but
we can't be hermits. It's  fun circulating at times; meeting new people and
all." He likes to do that more than I do. We're quiet for a few minutes while
I'm thinking about the new acquaintances I met during the last two weeks;
Anthony's handsome face pops up in my head of course, plus I had really hot
experiences with Charlie and  Gary too; not that I can share most of that with
Chubby. Last year I ran into that hot, cool boy, Mike Sullivan; he was
something, but I chickened out when it came to following through on doing
anything sexy with him. Hell, I don't even know for sure if he was interested in
me, but he sure oozed sexiness. This year I had a totally different  mind set
right from the start and consequently I didn't chicken out on a single
opportunity that came my way. My intention to have a slutty vacation experience
seemed to almost happen on it's own; I was just along for the ride. I hate not
being able to share these adventures with somebody though; it'd be kinda fun to
discuss the ins and outs, so ta speak. Oh well, ya can't have everything.

Chubby and me are feeing superior as we're chuckling at the long lines of cars
we pass at the toll booths on the Garden State Parkway, and there are a lot of
toll booths; EASY PASS allows us to cruise through the FAST LANES leaving those
fools in our wake. Damn, ya gotta wonder why all those people are still handling
tolls the old fashioned way.  Then, just to start a conversation, I ask Chubby,
"Who's the most interesting new acquaintance you met on vacation?" Chubby's
goes, "There were a  few.  Let's see, did you meet Dino at the barbecue? He's
Art Pictario's cousin." I shake my head, saying, "I don't think so," and  Chubby
goes, "Well, he's an interesting guy, this Dino. Oh, okay, he does have a
weakness for  sesquipedalian excess.  He  thinks nothing of dropping words like
"eponymous" or "proprioceptive" into normal conversation, but at the same time
he can also tell  a wickedly funny dirty joke too.  He's a plumber, I think
that's what he said; works in South Philly, I know that for sure." I'm squinting
my eyes staring at  the side of his face, my lips pursed, saying nothing. Chubby
keeps his eyes on the road trying not to laugh, it's dead silence for almost a
minute, then Chubby blurts out a laugh, glances over at me with  a  cute smirk
on his face, and asks, "What? Why ya staring at me?" Then he laughs  again. I'm
slowly shaking my head, mumbling, "Sesquipedalian plumber, my ass!"

He's doing that damn word game, and it's a pain in the ass because,  like his
factoid game, I never know if he's just making something up or if he actually
knows what he's talking  about. Taking a chance, I say, "You're the fucking
sesquipedalian, not the plumber!" which makes Chubby stop laughing, then say,
"You're guessing, bro! You're just guessing." I go, "Am not, I know big words
too!" which has Chubby guessing now. He's wondering if I actually know what that
word mean. The answer to that is: I don't have a clue what it means! Just then
the radio starts  blaring out the  new wave band HOCKEY doing their hit with
that electro-tinged  sound, "Song  Away", which Chubby and I love. We  know some
of  the  words and sing along with the front man, Ben Grubin. When the  songs
over, I say, "That was astroimersionally   fabulous!" and Chubby  says, "That's
no  word!" and I go, "What, you never heard of the word 'fabulous?' You gotta be
kidding!" He shakes  his head and chuckles, but isn't sure if
that 'astro...' word is a real word or not. I see a  way to break his balls with
his own game; what's that phrase... hoisted on his own petard? I'll just make up
words and he'll spend half the day trying to find them in the  dictionary. "Ha
ha!" I laugh and Chubby mutters,  "I like you better when you're pouting," but I
can tell he's kidding around, enjoying himself. He glances over at me and our
eyes meet with both of us smirking. He says, "Let's share a cigarette, bro." I
love a long road trip with Chubby.

And it is a long road trip which gives us plenty of time to talk; naturally we
talked about the stuff we did on vacation. We discussed it all without me
mentioning any of my  sex-capades,  including the ones I  had with him... Chubby
didn't   mention anything about sex either. We had fun remembering our bouts
with drunkenness; those two alcohol induced adventures received a lot  of
revisionist discussion time, minus the sexy parts, as I said. I'm sure we'll
have further discussions about those shared sexual experiences sometime when
were both introspective again and maybe adult beverages will be involved then
too, who knows. Sex is a touchy topic, it's chock full of uncomfortable
contradictions and subconscious confusions that would only bring us down off the
light, happy mood we're sharing right now; so we avoid it. Chubby's telling
funny stories about things that happened when it was just him and the girls. The
stories are mostly funny at Mary Jo's expense; Chubby laughed and laughed at the
bizarre things she brought on herself as well as the unfortunate mishaps that
just seem to happen around her. I didn't point out to Chubby that he's enjoying
the memories of Mary Jo's  unfortunate misadventures quite a bit. Fact is, Mary
Jo is basically a snob and Chubby's probably come to that  conclusion himself
although he might not articulate it in that exact way. Another  favorite topic
is the way we spent all the money we stole from that asshole Joel. "Ha ha!" We
spent some of it taking the moms to dinner, but most of it was spent doing the
expensive water sports. Awesome water skiing and jet skiing, and of course I had
my little rendezvous with Charlie which was quick, uber hot, and free. By the
way, I dreamed about that hot experience just last night and had a little
nocturnal emission as a result. "Heh heh," some of which got on Chubby's boxer
shorts with him deep asleep. I almost blurting out a laugh when I saw my dried
cum on the side of his underwear next morning; it was stiff by then so I must
have had the dream early in the night. I'm going to miss sleeping with Chubby
big time!  It'll be like weaning myself off an addictive drug. I hate to even
think about it.

At the halfway point we stopped for lunch; it was right after we got off Route
684 and made the connection to Route 84  East. Inside the Friendly restaurant
off Route 84 we're seated at a booth just like we were on the other side of the
highway coming from home two weeks ago. Chubby's studying the menu while I'm
looking around half expecting to see another exotic boy like the Mohawk boy I
spotted at lunch on the way down. Unfortunately no one under thirty years old is
dining here at this time; what a bummer! So okay, there are no prophetic visions
for me in this Friendly restaurant, but at least the cheeseburger and fries were
as advertised and that's not always the case. I've noticed that in Mc Donald's,
for example, you see delicious looking pictures of their Big Mac on the walls,
but when you get yours it doesn't look anything like the picture, it looks like
it's been in someone's back pocket for the last three hours. The second half of
our trip was quieter than the first; we took turns driving and concentrated on
the music mostly. Just about  seven hours after leaving the rental office in
Wildwood we arrived at our Framingham condo safe and sound and  feeling good
about life. Obviously we'd passed the moms somewhere along the the way but we
did it without realizing it. That's not surprising  since there are many miles
of four-lane highways and the moms travel in the right lane while Chubby  and me
are flying along  in the left lane.

First thing I did was run into my condo and hook my cell phone up with it's
charger 'cause I've discovered life without a cell phone is problematic. Then
back outside I joined Chubby unwinding from that long drive by sharing another
cigarette and drinking sodas on the front steps. We joked around some and then
marveled that a mere seven hours ago we were next to the majestic Atlantic ocean
and now we're gazing down on this two-lane road in front of our condos, a road
that needs repaving no less. Life's often like that; sharp contrasts that one
simply must adjust too.  We'd left our  clothes and stuff in the Jeep so, after
our smoke, Chubby takes a  deep breath, looks at me, and asks,  "Ya ready, bro?"
I go, "Let's do it!" We unpack the Jeep, fill the washing machine with our dirty
clothes, then wander around each condo setting the thermostats and checking that
all is the way it should be. Then, as we'd discussed in  the car, next thing on
the agenda is Chubby eliminating my Mohawk. In my finished basement I'm sitting
on the barber stool with Chubby testing various clippers comb attachments
against the length of my hair. "Dylan, it's gonna need to be  the quarter inch
comb,  bro. The three-eights inch one will leave  the outline of the Mohawk;
your  other hairs haven't grown-out enough yet." Hair on an average person's
head grows  about a half-inch per months; some people's  hair grows a little
slower and some a little faster. My hair has above average growth rate, but it's
hasn't even been two full weeks since I got the Mohawk so I'm lucky it's grown
out as much as it has; a touch over a quarter inch. Chubby runs the  clippers
along the Mohawk strip first and then all over my head for a short buzz cut and
I'm happy to see my one and only Mohawk-of-a-lifetime disappear. Chubby finishes
up using the  trimmers around the ears and back, then I do the rest myself
because, well, because I'm  better at it than Chubby. He's on his way up a
couple of flights of stairs to his condo for a shower as I use the trimmer to
carefully shave a  straight hairline across my forehead and then accent a
distinctive hairline along the sides, with the sideburns coming to a point. It's
a wicked short haircut, but looks kinda  cool; kinda tough and I like it much
better than the Mohawk. I'm too cute for a Mohawk, that's what I heard a number
of times and I tend to believe they're right! "Ha ha ha!" That comment shows the
kind of happy and goofy mood I'm in. After my shower I put both my little pirate
hoop earrings in, then, checking myself out in the mirror, I reluctantly take
the right  one off because mom isn't used to it yet; she'll come around
eventually. I'm dressing casually this evening, without underpants; that's
because  I'll be with Robby later and I'm an   optimist.

Chubby and I are  outside now, all  clean  and shiny sitting on the steps
smoking another  cigarette when the moms show up almost an hour after we'd
arrived. "You boys been here long?" Tris asked as she walks up the steps. Chubby
goes, "No mom, maybe fifteen minutes, tops... but we stopped for lunch." She
says, "Well we  did too, honey. I hope you were driving safely; that vacation
traffic is horrific!" Chubby and I are shaking  our heads up and down like, "Of
course we drove safely!" My mom  says, "Boys, you already unloaded your Jeep!
Good for you!" Chubby says, "Yes, and we have the washing machine going full
tilt and the thermostats are adjusted and the condos inspected; all's in order."
My mom nods her head, smiling at Chubby, then notices my hair, "Dylan! You got
rid of your Mohawk already; it looks nice like this. Nice job,  Chubby!" The
moms are walking toward the condo when my mom stops, maybe realizing we got an
awful lot done in only fifteen minutes, she turns around to ask, "Hey, are you
two sure you've only been home fifteen minutes?" Chubby  goes, "Scout's honor,"
and he does some kind of a bogus salute that has the moms  exchanging looks;
they don't believe us for a minute. Tris asks,  "You boys gonna help us unload
the station wagon?" Chubby  and I make another face at each other because we
know that "Help us unload" means, in mom  lingo,"Get  to it boys,  we'll be
taking showers and drinking  gin  and tonics!" They're chuckling as they
disappear inside their respective condos to do whatever it is moms do in the
bathroom.

Chubby and me unloaded the  station  wagon and hump everything up the steps
getting overheated in the process, but a half hour after that we're all cool and
comfy in our air conditioned condo. Chubby and me are preparing dinner for the
four of us. The menu: spaghetti, meatballs, Italian sausages, crusty garlic
bread and a salad. We made the meatballs  and tomato sauce from scratch while
the moms sat on kitchen bar stools watching us and drinking their gin and tonics
while laughing about  things they  experienced on vacation. It's wonderful
knowing they had a great time too; that allows Chubby and me to fully enjoy our
time at the shore with a clear conscious. A  little later the moms are working
hard making the salad while giggling at  Chubby's funny remarks insinuating they
don't know lettuce from  cabbage. The moms are not the greatest cooks maybe, but
they're not as helpless in the kitchen as Chubby is inferring. It's fun putting
the dinner together and great eating it too; the  mom's had red wine with  their
meal,  but us boys passed that up 'cause wine is vile  tasting and I strongly
advise against it. After  eating we all pitched-in cleaning the kitchen, then we
split up to get ready for our Saturday night  plans. Chubby's on a double date;
him and Mary Jo and another couple are  going bowling and then, over to Mary
Jo's pool to do whatever. The  mom's have dates too; a movie and some  drinks
afterwards for Jake and my mom and I'm not sure  what Tris and her boyfriend
are doing, probably going with mom and Jake. As for me, I'm in my room with my
fully charged cell phone in my hands, my heart going "bump, bump, bump" a little
too quickly because I've gotta call Robby now. During that one conversation we
had last week we'd agreed to go out tonight, so all the time I've been home I've
been waiting and hoping Robby  would make the call, but since he hasn't, I gotta
do it.

I'm trying to plan how to start the conversation; practicing my opening line.
When I memorize it, I take a deep breath and dial.  It rang five times and my
eyes are getting bigger with each ring; on Robby's cell phone calls are switched
to message mode after the sixth ring! Then, "Hello! Dylan, is that you calling?"
Just like that I forget what I'd practiced for my opening line, and say, too
quickly,  "Hi, Robby. This is  Dylan and... um, I missed you so  much." He says,
"Me too," and we both take a  deep  inhale that can be  heard through our cell
phones' connections. Together we start  to say something, then  both stop at the
same time. "You first, okay?" Robby says. I ask, "Can we  go out tonight,
Robby?" He says, "Um, well, yeah. That's what you said last week." I go, "Oh
man! Yeah, that's right. Ah, where shall we go?" We bumbled along like that for
a bit before deciding to meet at Parkers Park near the picnic tables. It's a
stupid place  to meet, but this time of night we're pretty sure to have some
privacy there for our talk. Ironic we should meet there; Chubby and I have
jogged about a million miles through Parkers Park; that was back during our
innocent good old days before Chubby got his window washing job after which I
had to do my running alone. Carl had just started fucking me at the time, then I
met the Marine during a solo run and, oh my; a marathon of sexual adventures
have followed.

Anyway, Robby and me have agreed on a  meeting place. I clicked off  my cell
phone with sweaty palms wondering why in  hell it was  so hard making a simple
decision  like that? We were so formal with each other too; it wasn't natural
and now I'm wondering if Robby going to dump me. He did not seem especially
excited about meeting me, like he had something unpleasant to do when we met. I
can't imagine what could have changed since the last time I spoke with him ten
days ago... was  it  ten days ago already? Jesus! I don't know, the time all
meshes together during  vacations. I wandered into my room to put underpants on
because now I'm not all that optimistic. My  other earring  went on along with
Charlie's hat; I was already wearing Willie necklace. I thought about things,
then took off the extra earring, the hat, and the necklace; I'll dress down and
go for the pity pardon from Robby. Then I'm yelling in my head, "You haven't
done anything wrong! It's Robby who kept secrets from you." Looking in the
mirror, I ran my hand over my short buzz cut thinking it looks okay, but then I
changed my t-shirt from one that read "The Double Shot...  Wildwood N.J." to one
that read, "Framingham High Baseball."   Then, totally unsure of what to expect
from Robby, out the door I go with the Jeep's keys in my hand. Damnit! I've got
the wallet  Willie gave me in my back pocket. Oh well, I just won't let  Robby
see it. I'm thinking,"What a dink you are, Dylan! Act natural,  you  didn't do
anything wrong!" No? Then why do I feel like I did?

Starting the Jeep I begin  evaluating that last thought... have I done something
wrong? Have I done something that's giving me a guilty conscience and therefore
making me act goofy? I  guess it depends on what one means by "wrong". I'm like,
"Focus goof!  It's Robby who was caught doing the nasty with his own brother and
his brother's freakin' boyfriend!" Yeah, that's right; Robby should have the
nervous stomach, not me. The drive to Parkers Park is less than five minutes
from my house so I figured I'd be  the first one there, but pulling into the
parking lot I see Robby's pickup; how'd he beat me here? Oh yeah, he probably
didn't change clothes three times before leaving the house. Looking around I see
there aren't any other vehicle in the  parking lot, but there's no Robby either.
Hmmm. I park and get out to stand next to the Jeep, still real jittery. Not
seeing Robby behind a tree peeing or anything like that I decide to walk down
the  trail  toward the  picnic  area; he's probably there.  It's twilight so as
soon as I turn the  corner I easily see Robby; he's sitting on the bench of a
picnic table  at the far end of the picnic area facing away from the table,
watching a couple of acrobatic squirrels chasing one another through  the trees.
Robby's wearing white flimsy Champion basketball shorts made out of that
shimmering dazzle fabric with the side seam pockets. I know from past experience
that when Robby's sitting or standing in certain ways I can see the impression
of his penis in that flimsy material. One time, seeing a distinct outline of his
dick through those basketball shorts I asked him if he's wearing underpants; I
was seriously curious. He'd looked at me funny like, then grinned, and said,
"Oh, yeah... I know what ya mean. You can see my pecker sometimes when it slips
out the zipper of my undies and pushes out these cool shorts. Here, let me show
you!" And we'd laughed, then I'd goosed his crotch and one thing led to another
and I ended-up getting fucked really good, but that was then, and this is now.

Robby hasn't sensed I'm here; he's holding a smoldering cigarette between  his
thumb and index finger, the elbow of  his other  arm  is behind him  resting  on
the table top that he's leaning against. A too-large black cotton t-shirt hangs
limply from his slim taut body as he rubs under his nose with  the back of the
hand that's holding the cigarette, then he takes a drag and tilts his head back
to exhale the smoke. His long almost hairless legs are stretched out in front of
him, crossed  at the ankles. A pair of green high-top Converse canvas sneakers
on his feet, with no socks. His  blond flattop hair is too long standing up off
his head, the hairs on the sides  come over the top of his perfectly shaped
ears; he needs a haircut and I'm glad of that because I love cutting his hair.
His face is nicely tanned from working outside but it still shows the blushing
rosy blotches at his cheek bones. Staring at him with my lips parted, I rub my
dick and gasp quietly at how good looking  he is. Only two weeks since I've seen
him and yet I'm still a little startled that this beautiful boy is actually
my boyfriend. Perfect facial features to go  with those awesome lips; lips that
he now uses to drag again  from his cigarette. Smoke drifts from his nose and
from  those bow shaped  pink lips as Robby squirms on the seat pulling at the
loose material at his crotch and then, finally sensing my presents, he slowly
turns his head in my direction. My eyes are big as I stare frozen in place, my
heart pounding, my mind wondering what his reaction to seeing me will  be.

It's an immediate reaction from Robby. He flicks his cigarette  in the air and
yells, "Dylan!" Scrambling off the picnic table bench he runs over  to me and
our arms go around each other. My eyes get misty as the sides of our faces rub
and our bodies meld together in a familiar manner; we fit together so well.
"Dylan, Dylan!" he says in my ear, "I missed you so much!" The sides of our
faces slide back slightly  allowing our   lips to meet and then the world stops
spinning and time stands still for awhile. It's like we're in a vacuum, a low
humming sound in my  ears as we do a long lover's kiss. It's not at all frantic,
instead it's a luscious kiss with our noses rubbing slowly together, our arms
wrapped around each other, then Robby's tongue slides easily between my lips
scraping my teeth as it continues on it's way to rub against my tongue in a
warm, wet sexy way; my  cock gets hard as Robby pulls  his tongue back out to
licks across my lips,  then up and over the tip of my nose. Initially I'd
noticed the taste of the nicotine from the cigarette Robby was smoking, but
shortly it's Robby's clean crisp saliva taste that takes over; that and the
erotically  sexy Robby smell. I groan, murmuring "Robby, I love you," and his
crotch humps  against mine; his four inch boner poking that flimsy material out
at the crotch hitting my boner, then presses tightly against it. Robby  leans
down  slightly to poke his boner between my legs, hitting my  scrotum, bouncing
off my nuts. He moves my head so that my forehead's against his shoulder now as
he licks and does little bites under my chin and then sucks  on the side of my
neck and, with me quietly moaning, he starts in on his hickey building. I want
to do whatever Robby wants me to do so I'm docile and let him have his way. He
murmurs, "Ahh, good; just like that, Dylan," and sucks on my neck while keeping
the slow steady hip humping going. His hard cock poked my boner and balls here
and there; his body scent an aphrodisiac as my nose rested at the crook of his
neck. My arms around his waist, Robby holds my head between his hands and licks
and  sucks on my neck.  If he were drinking my blood I wouldn't have interrupted
him; this moment is too sensual and hypnotic for me to change a single thing.
Robby  already has me in this trance-like state of pure erotic pleasure; a
feeling of weightlessness. Oh my God, how could I  ever  have considered  living
a life without Robby in it.

A few minutes of  sucking, nipping, and licking my neck with our bodies
seemingly one, my dick starts leaking in my pants and I definitely feel like
we're floating  now. With my hickey burning, Robby  pulls his mouth away to
whisper in my ear, wetting it, "That's a pretty good looking hickey, it'll do
for  now, Dylan," his tongue goes in my ear then and when he pulls it away
everything has a hollow sound to it as his saliva blocks my ear drum. Robby
adjusts the position of my head then and we're back to passionate kissing with
my arms around Robby's neck now; both his hands massaging my buttocks. We begin
French kissing, me pressing my boner against his flat taut belly. Robby licks
across my lips again, then we're lapping our tongues together and he's sucking
my upper lip in between his lips, then his tongue is back in my mouth and his
odor is all I smell as the feelings begins building in my groin. Robby sucks my
tongue and squeezes both my ass cheeks, pushing a finger against my hole.
Sensations are coming on me fast, that unmistakable feeling in my balls and on
both sides of my thighs around my groin, my balls are tightening up and moving
up in their sack, loaded with spunk; it's almost painful, but more  erotic than
painful and the combination  has me  groaning and  humping my hips, and then
squealing out Robby's name as cum shoots from my boner, then another squirt with
my  sphincter muscle closing tightly forcing another stream of cum into my
pants. I'm gasping for air, hugging Robby as he moves his face away from mine
slightly,  breathing heavily into my face,  almost panting. A flush covers his
face and a little shy grin forms on his  lips as he silently  mouths, "I love
you so much, Dylan!" The tingling sensations are flying around my body, my
cock's still quivering as I clench my teeth together and enjoy a shiver of
after-shock from that awesome climax... nothing compares to a climax brought on
you by someone you're deeply in love with. I've loosened my hold on him and
Robby begins breathing more evenly. Another cute  grin on his lips as he leans
to me and lightly kisses my lips, then quietly asks, "Did it feel good, Dylan?"
We're looking into each others eyes with me  nodding my head up and down slowly.
Robby asks, "My turn now?" exerting slight pressure on  my shoulders.  I kneel
down in front of him still in a bit of a trance and put  my face against his
poking crotch; his basketball shorts are wet through with precum. My arms
hugging around his thighs, I lap at the poking material and then bite the
elastic  waistband and pull it down under his  nuts with his cock and balls
slapping off my face; his boner then sticks straight out from  a soft pubic
patch, straight at me, and I take it inside my warm wet mouth to  tongue that
big-headed  four inch cock. Robby's scent is all I smell down here as my nose
buries in his pubes. His hands rubbing my head, running through my quarter inch
hair; he's mumbling, "Ohh, yeah... oh, suck my cock, Dylan! Yeah, that feels so
good!"

My hands get under his shorts and underpants in back and I push a finger against
his anus while sucking and tonguing his hard wet boner.  Dragging my mouth from
the root of his boner up and over the head of it scraping with my teeth the
whole way has Robby's making a hissing noise through his lips.  I scrape his
cock with my teeth three time and after the third time I suck on it with my warm
wet tongue and lips and the contrast  between the light scraping of my teeth and
the smooth luscious feel of  my tongue causes Robby's shoulders to  shudder  and
a shiver to travel  around his groin as he humps his hips, saying, "Ahhhh,
oooh!"  Teeth lightly scraping on a hard cock is a similar sensation to running
your finger up someones  spine real fast and then grabbing the back of their
neck for a quick squeeze; shivers and shudders ensue. Licking his pubic hairs
flat against his firm pinkish belly, then pulling two hairs from my tongue I
begin licking the inside of his hairless thighs; Robby's squirming and moaning
now with every lick. Wet kisses on the inside of his thighs and then lap his
nuts into my mouth and suck on them with Robby squeezing my shoulders  and
moaning louder as his hips hump slightly dragging my head with the movements, my
mouth attached to his scrotum. Pushing out his nuts and getting his boner in my
mouth again gets Robby starts the hissing sound and goes up on his toes, then my
finger pokes inside his ass and I  begin rubbing his prostate gland; once, then
twice, then a swirling motion with the pad of  my finger while imitating that
swirling motion with my  tongue on  the leaking head of  his  cock, Robby blows
out a lot of air, grunting, "I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" He squeezes my shoulders
tighter,  goes up on his toes again, and pours his load of cum into my mouth in
a long stream. It sloshes out between my lips at the corners as I'm trying to
swallow that first big shot, but it's followed so quickly by a second blast of
spunk it's impossible to swallow it all and some of it gets sucked up my sinuses
and blows in strings out my nostrils. The last two shots of cum I swallow
alright, but at the same time I'm blowing air through my nose real hard trying
to clear it of Robby's cum. All this time I'm  thinking, "Mmm, Robby's spunk has
a subtle taste to it; it's like his scent, I can't describe it, but it's
wonderful!"  I  lick his boner clean, then do more sucking kisses on the inside
of his thighs  near his  bobbing cock. Robby's taking deep breaths and rubbing
my buzzed hair, then he  quietly says, "That was the best, Dylan! Oooh, that
felt so good!" He's  pulling me up and I get one last  slurp of his softening
cock before it slips from my mouth to drag down past my chin. What a great
tasting penis. I haven't had cum blowing out my nose for quite some  time; it's
distressing at first although I quickly get this feeling of being saturated in
Robby's cum, which  is such a hot sensation and worth the initial
uncomfortableness. My body's kinda limp by now; I'm spent, so Robby hugs me
against him. He's helping support me with one arm around my waist while he's
using his other hand to wipe cum from around my mouth. Then, after wiping his
hand on the back of his shorts, he uses his thumb and index finger to squeeze my
nostrils together pulling the remaining cum from my nose. One last wipe of my
nose with the palm of his hand, and he gives me a long kiss on my cheek, then a
soft one on my lips and we make-out for another two minutes or so before Robby
goes, "Oh, Dylan, that was so awesome! I gotta sit down now though, my legs feel
weak." We're only six feet from the picnic table  so we stumble over to it with
Robby pulling up his shorts and me still strangely silent. I'm overwhelmed, I
guess.  I never  expected this kind of reunion,  not  so quickly  anyway. I
expected some awkward time, some initial shyness like we'd experienced on the
phone, but no; Robby took  over everything and we're way past shyness.

We sit  next to  each other, our sides touching, Robby holding both my hands in
between his; he asks, "Did  you miss me, Dylan?" I nod my head and say, "Yes,
but ya know, I didn't realize how much until being with you tonight." He's
staring into my eyes as his head moves towards me and I bend my head to his and,
with him still grasping my hands between his, we make out again, Robby leading
the way. His tongue is perfect, the feel of his lips on mine and the way he
tastes and smells causes another hard boner in my cum soaked pants and has me
squeaking little noises in my throat. Gasping for air, I pull my mouth away from
his, breathlessly saying, "Robby, you never made out this hot before; I used to
make you cum in your pants and now you do it to me." Left unsaid is, "How did
you get so good at this?" Robby leaned back in to kiss just my lips once more,
then says,  "Who wouldn't want to make out with you, Dylan? I could eat you
up!" and he sucks  my  top  lip between his lips, rubbing his nose against mine,
then mumbling, "You're so friggin' cute! That short buzzcut hair looks so sexy
on you, Dylan.  It makes you look tough; cute and tough at the same time.
Awesome!" and he kisses me again. Then, letting go of my hands, he says,
"Straddle the bench like this, Dylan," as he gets a leg on either side of the
picnic bench seat and I do the same, facing him. Taking my hands once more he
says, "I want to look you in the eyes when I tell you this. Um, ya know... you
confessed about your boyfriend, Willie, to me last summer and now I need to
confess something to you, but I won't do it unless you swear to me you won't
dump me." Confused, I whine, "How can I  swear that if I'm not sure what you're
going to say?" He goes, "I need you to swear to me you won't dump me no matter
what I tell you. Please swear on your solemn oath no matter what I tell you
we'll still be  gay  boyfriends and lovers." He's so earnest, so sweet, so  like
the way I remember Robby being  last summer   when he was desperately in love
with  me, so innocent and perfect. Young love is a monumentally powerful thing,
it takes over every  pore in your body, it swells your heart and brings tears to
your eyes, it causes you to forget to breath and it can make you do anything! I
say, "I swear on my solemn oath... ah, what you said; no matter what, I won't
drop you!"

It gets dark earlier this late in the summer and dusk is upon us. I'm still a
little bit into my Robby induced trance, deeply in love with him so I really
think I meant what I said about not dumping him; I totally meant it at the time!
Robby licks his lips and now I see doubt in his eyes. He looks away, then back,
and, taking a deep breath, he says, "Okay, first off lets get that thing with my
brother and his  boyfriend out of the way.  Um, well... what I mean is; Dodger
and I have been wicked close our entire  lives. We're like identical twins in
many  ways." Robby lifts one of his hands to wipe  his forehead  which  is
perspiring a little; the night temperature is in the high seventies,  so it is
warm although  I'm not perspiring. The identical twin comment made me think of
Chubby and me. Robby's biting on his lower lip, then he says, "I told you a long
time ago that Dodger and I whack off together at times and, well... um, it's
more like we were doing it every night and sometimes, well... ah, lots of times,
we do each other. That is, we jerk each other off. But I swear that's it, that
and we kiss all the time, but just fast kisses. We're very close; we love each
other, but we love each other like brothers love each other. In other words,
we're not in love with each other." A car's headlights flashing through the
trees from the parking lot interrupting Robby's train of thought. We both turn
our heads and stare in the  direction of the lights; the car's occupants
apparently want privacy to do whatever it is they want to do. When  they see our
cars, they   back-up and leave the way they came, and then it's kind of dark and
very quiet once again.

Waiting for him to continue, I thought how Robby's hand holding reminded me
briefly of Gary. Then Robby looks back from the parking lot to me, and says,
"Anyway, Dylan, I stupidly never imagined Dodger could be gay and he never
thought I could be either. That is, until he tricked you into telling him how
you and I were boyfriends in the pool that time. Oh, and he didn't tell me about
that until later. It was a couple of weeks after the Dodger pool attack on you
that I bumbled into Dodger doing Vinnie. It was a long shot that I discovered
them at all. What happened is this: About a month ago I was at one of my
baseball games running sprints before the game when my right cleat split; the
back of the shoe just split down the seam.  Well, the game was at the high
school so it's close enough that I could jump in my pickup and fly  home to get
my other  pair of  cleats and still make  it  back in  time to play the game.
 To make a long story short: I'm in my house,  upstairs, running past Dodger's
room carrying my spare cleats when I see Dodger and Vinnie doing it. I couldn't
believe my eyes at first. Speechless, I pointed at Dodger, couldn't think what
to say, and then just rushed back to the game. Dodger and I talked all about it
later that night of course, and let me tell ya we both felt like fools for not
recognizing each other's gayness months ago. In hindsight it's absurd we
wouldn't realize the obvious, but we didn't, and so, it is what it is."  As
Robby's telling me this, I'm thinking, "This isn't much to confess really; now
he'll probably tell me how he was curious about a threesome and yada, yada,
yada..." Robby   goes on, "One thing led to another and Dodger and I tried
screwing together a couple of times and that led to us including Vinnie; you
know, a threesome like I've seen on the  porn sites. We  both  thought of you
first, but I  didn't want  to share you with Dodger and  Dodger, to be honest,
didn't want to share  Vinnie with me either, although, as you saw, I did
eventually talk him into it. The Friday you  saw us was our second time as a
threesome. It's recreational, buddy sex; you know, nothing more than that."

Now I'm thinking that something doesn't add up. Pulling at the crotch of my cum
soaked shorts and moving some of the wet material away from my dick, I say,
"Robby, did you really think I'd dump you for this? I mean, after your
explanation?" He holds up his finger like there's more to tell, but I continued,
"I should tell you what mostly upset me was the thought you and Dodger were
laughing at me behind my back, purposely letting me think that neither of you
knew about the other. That hurt at first and made me feel like a loser, but as
time went by it seemed less and less likely  you guys would treat me like that
so, day by day, I became less and  less  mad about the whole thing." He says,
"No, we'd  never do that to you, Dylan! And no, I didn't think you'd dump me for
the threesome garage thing  either, but it made me realize I need to come clean
with you. I felt I should tell you what led up to the garage sex you witnessed;
get it out of the way. Dodger and I respect that you kept our  secret like we
asked you to... you rock! Like I said, Dodger told me  about that time he took
you by surprise in the pool when he and I had our talk after I caught him and
Vinnie.  That pool deal with Dodger sounds just like something he would do too.
I was mad at him and jealous at first, but I can't say I blame him for wanting
to have some buddy sex with you. He thinks you're the coolest kid ever. No, it's
none of that stuff. I didn't think you'd dump me for any of that." Hesitantly, I
ask, "Then  what?"

Robby lets go of my hands to wipe his forehead again and then he ran the fingers
of both hands through his too-long, two-tone blond  hair flattop,  stalling for
time.  "Ah, well... here goes.  I  have a boyfriend on the side." He's not
looking at me now as he quickly adds,  "You know, remember way  back last year I
was your boyfriend on the  side when you were in love with Willie? And then you
fell in love with me and Willie became you're boyfriend on the side... it's like
that. Ya know?" And now he's back to staring at me with a new pleading look to
his eyes.  I'm thinking, "I'll bet anything this so-called boyfriend-on-the-side
is that goddamn Chad what's-his-name!" But, not being too sure of myself about
which direction I should go with this, I skirt the issue by saying, "Willie's
been away all summer; you know that, and so he can't be my boyfriend on the
side." Robby's still staring at me looking guilty, he says, "I know, and that's
why I didn't want to tell you about my other boyfriend. It didn't seem fair that
I should have one when yours is away, ya know?" The various buddy sex I've had
this summer flashes through my brain, but I ignore the flash and ask, "How'd ya
meet this  other kid, anyway?"  Robby answers my question  with a question, "Do
I absolutely have to  tell you who he is? Please, can't we just keep his name
out of this?" "No, we can't!" was my quick retort. Then, feeling jealousy's
fury, I add, "Who is it and how long has this romantic cheating been going on?"
But, as soon as I asked that stupid interrogational question I felt bad because
of all my aforementioned buddy sex activities. Regaining some composure and to
make up for snapping at him, I quickly and quietly follow up, saying, "Oh man!
I'm sorry, Robby. I didn't mean to come across like that." I take his hand now,
and say, "I think we should include his name though. Don't ya think that'd be
fair? You  know my boyfriend's name and, anyway, we shouldn't have secrets from
each other." I know, I know! I have a few secrets myself; that last thing about
secrets just slipped out. Robby's biting his bottom lip looking up  into the
night sky so I squeeze his hand, and quietly say, "It's okay, Robby, who is it?"
He looks back at me now and  says right out, "It's  Chad Bundy. His father's
going into business with dad;  Chad and his  brother came over for a swim last
May and I fell for him. He reminded me of you in some ways." I'm nodding my
head thinking, "That sucks! He thinks I'm like Chad?!"  Robby asks, "Don't ya
think he's cute?" I remember Robby mentioning that the first day Chad was on the
job. He'd said, "and he's wicked cute too. Don't ya think?" I remember it like
it was yesterday. I also remember what Chad had said earlier that day; it was
after he'd told me he was gay. When I'd started to say something about Robby
being straight or some such thing, Chad said, "Oh, I'm  not asking about Robby
because I already know he's..." and his sentence was cut-off by the work bell
and all of us running to the trucks to load up. Was he going to out Robby just
like that? I'll never know, I guess.

Frankly, I'd have been surprised if it was anyone except Chad, but it still has
me irrationally  pissed-off even though I've promised  myself to  be fair and
open-minded. It's probably Chad himself who gets me pissed off, just the idea of
him, and not just because  he's getting fucked by my boyfriend either; it's
because he's an arrogant jackass. I gotta believe this clean-cut image of Robby,
the goody-two-shoe 'gosh gee!' Robby, is getting a bit tarnished too. He's been
fucking Chad all summer and lately fucking his own brother too, and his
brother's boyfriend, for that matter. Maybe I ain't so bad after all, or maybe
we both ain't so good. More likely we're just doing what any gay eighteen year
old boy would do if he has the chance! Getting up  from the picnic table, I say,
"Let's walk a little bit and have a smoke, I'm uncomfortable sitting here in
these wet pants," and I sort of force out a chuckle about my cum soaked pants as
I'm talking, hoping to give the impression I'm not up tight about all this. I
shake a Marlboro Light out of my pack and hold it out to Robby, who offhandedly
says, "No thanks, Dylan. I've switched to Salem lights. You know, 'Sail 'em,
don't inhale 'em!'"  No more chuckling from me, I'm like, "What the fuck? What's
that mean? 'sail 'em or whatever you said?" Robby's taking a cigarette out of
his pack, not so offhand now, saying, "I don't know; it's what Chad always
says. He got it  from his father or something." Robby obviously wishes he hadn't
brought this topic up... me too. I incredulously ask, "He made you switch
cigarette brands?" Robby frowns and mumbles, "I'm just trying them, they're
menthol and Chad's just started smoking them too so we're, you know, kinda doing
it  together... or  something." Sounds like a crock of shit to me.  We both
light up with the green fires of jealousy burning in my brain, but at the same
time I'm scolding  myself silently for letting jealousy cloud by common sense.
We drag on our cigarettes, exhaling away from each other; we used to blow smoke
in each other's faces just to goof on each other, but neither of us feels like
goofing around at the moment.

Slowly walking toward the trail and, keeping my tone pleasant, I ask, "Um,
Robby...  ah, what do you and Chad do? I mean, do you make out like you and me
or what?" Robby takes a big drag and while exhaling, he answers my question with
another question of his own, "Ah, should we be talking about stuff like that? I
mean, I never asked what you and Willie did 'cause I figured it's a private
matter." How to respond to that? I hear another car pulling into the parking
lot, and then going right back out. Our parked cars must be what's chasing would
be lovers to other locations. Robby, seeing me pull at the wet material of my
shorts, says, "I think I have some shorts in the back  seat of my  pickup. I
wore them at work yesterday, but at least  they're dry. Ya wanna wear them?" I'm
still thinking about his remark concerning the privacy issue, and this'll gives
me time to think, so I say, "Yeah,  let's have a look at those shorts," and we
turn around to walk back to his truck. Robby  rustles in the truck before coming
up with a pair of wrinkled shorts which he shakes out, then smells and says,
"They don't stink, Dylan, they're just a little wrinkled." I'm stepping out of
my shorts and underpants right in front of Robby who hands me his old shorts
which I pull on. Scratchy without underpants, but far better than my wet ones.
Putting my cum soaked shorts in the Jeep, I say, "Thanks, Robby! This is better.
Now we can take our walk."

We're walking away from the parking lot and it's pretty dark and hard to see,
but I know the trail very well from all the times I jogged it; the moon's
providing all the light we'll need.  We're smoking in silence as I contemplate
Robby's private comment and the truth is,  I'm letting myself get pissed-off
again which is just wrong. Still keeping my voice artificially  pleasant, I say,
"Well, ya know... um, like I  said, why  should anything be  private between us,
Robby? Anyway, it's no secret what Willie and I do; we do everything pretty much
the same way you and me do it; all the different things you and me do is what
Willie and I do except I'm in love with you, and I'm not in love with him."
Robby takes a big inhale, and then exhales the smoke in an  exaggerated manner
giving me the thought that, "Hey, maybe I'm not the only one controlling his
temper!" Robby says, "Okay, so you're the bottom for Willie like you are for me,
right? You act submissive to Willie's dominant sex role, is that what you're
saying? That's what you mean, right?" He's talking like he's pissed off now and
the thought that maybe Robby's as jealous of Willie as I am of Chad; funny how I
never gave that any thought before Robby got his own boyfriend on the side. To
Robby's description of my submissiveness to Willie, I mumble, "Something like
that." Robby says, "Okay then, we know that much. And I know he gives you
hickeys  because I've seen them; it's what got me started giving them to you
too." After he said that he unconsciously touches his neck and I see the
remnants of a hickey there. Well I'll be a son of a bitch! Now the jealousy is
like a green fog in  my head! Plus, I'm still not too happy about the way Robby
characterized my relationship with Willie either, and the thought of Chad giving
my boyfriend hickeys  is the straw that breaks the camel's friggin' back!  In a
challenging manner, I interrogate Robby again, "Is Chad fucking you and giving
you hickeys?" In the moonlight I can make out Robby nodding his head up  and
down, then he says, as if it should have been understood from the beginning,
"Yeah, he's the dominant sex partner. Couldn't ya sort of tell that  from  just
meeting him?" I go, "Robby, you've  taken over that role in our sex life, so how
come it's different with what's-his-name?" He says, "With you I'm dominant,
Dylan, because you like it that way and I love it that way too! But with Chad,
well, he don't give me a choice, ya know?" I snap, "This sucks! Chad sucks! And,
I'm not going to be your boyfriend-on-the-side with him being the dominant
boyfriend! No fucking way!" Robby's like, "What?" I start walking back down the
trail with Robby coming up and grabbing my arm, "Wait Dylan. Wait! Please, it's
not like that at all! You're my true love, Dylan. I'll give up Chad in a  minute
if you want me to. I'm in love with you. I just sort of followed your lead. You
had Willie and it seems cool, so when Chad dropped in out of nowhere I sort of
got enamored of him." Robby is so concerned looking, that pleading look in his
eyes again; the last summer look. When he said "enamored" he stopped cold;
frowning, he asks, "And, ah..  oh... is that even a word, Dylan?" I'm trying to
remain  pissed off, but couldn't stop myself from blurting out a chuckle
because, all of a sudden, Robby seems so vulnerable again; as I said, like he
used to be in our early days together. Also, him using, and then innocently
asking if 'enamored' is even a  word struck me as  funny; maybe because I
thought of  Chubby's vocabulary  game and how  silly that is. When I chuckled,
Robby smiled, relaxed a little like everything is going to be okay, and rubbed
my hair, saying, "Really,  is it a word? You're the brainiac in English, I don't
know if it's  a real word or not!" I go, "I don't fucking know for sure, but it
sure sounds right." This little incident helped us lighten up the mood
considerably and thank God for that; I was being ridiculously unfair.

Seemingly happy to get off the topic of Chad Bundy, Robby hesitantly asks, "How
do you think I'd look with a haircut like yours?" I go, "No way, dude. This is
too short, but you do need a haircut. Actually I can't wait for mine to grow in
long enough to have a flattop like yours." He says, " Oh, we can have the same
haircuts again and guys at work can call us the Bobbsey twins like they used to;
remember?" I chuckle again, and say, "Oh yeah, the good old days of last
summer," but what I was silently thinking was, "Hmmm, I better hold  off on a
haircut commitment 'cause Willie insist on choosing my haircut style." Avoiding
further   comment on me and  flattops, I say, "Your  hair's long enough to comb
over now, " he goes, "Yeah, but I like my flattop;  I'm used to it after all
this time. Remember I got this flattop to be like you?" I nod my head thinking
about Chad getting his to be like Robby and how stupid I thought that was.
Wonder why I didn't think it was stupid that Robby wanted a haircut like mine? I
ruffled Robby's silky hair, and he says, "I waited for you to get back for a
haircut 'cause I love having you cut my hair. Remember when you shampooed it and
gave me a massage and everything that time? I almost spunked in my pants." Robby
was sort of rubbing my shoulder when he said that; we like to touch each other.
I go, "Oh yeah, that was fun, Robby." We start walking again and I put my arm
around Robby's neck like Gary did to me on the beach; Robby's grinning and he
does the same thing with his arm around my neck and we walk down the trail in
the dark like that; like two seven year olds. Turning our  heads to look at each
other we get that look in our eyes, slow up, then stop to face each other and
begin another two minute sloppy make-out. Pulling my head away, needing to
breath, I say, "I'm  sorry I was snippy back  there." Robby goes, "Snippy? You
never use words like, snippy. Ha ha!" Then seemingly like we'd read each other's
minds, we turn around together and head back to the parking lot, walking close
together but keeping our arms to ourselves maybe feeling a little self conscious
as though we're been over doing it a little. I say, "Did I actually say snippy?"
and we chuckle, bumping together again. I laugh at our behavior, we've been all
over the place tonight; from lovers to suspicious to jealous to whatever. I say,
"Ya think we may be over-doing this  lovey-dovey stuff just a tad?" Robby's
like, "No, I don't!" and we both laugh 'cause we do like being affectionate;
even if it is over the top.

I can see the parking lot through the trees now as I'm thinking about the
opening Robby gave me a minute ago when he'd mentioned the guys at work. I might
as well get this over with too. I say, "Um, Robby, can we stop again for a
second? I need to tell ya something that might piss you off?" Robby sounds
concerned and hesitant, "Sure, what is it, Dylan?" I put a hand on his shoulder
and squeeze, then say, "Don't be mad at me, but I'm not  coming back to work.
It's not just the Chad thing, although that would be uber awkward, it's that I
just need the time off. A couple of weeks of doing nothing before college starts
sounds really good to me; a lot of stuff happened this summer and some down-
time is what I need." Robby's quiet for a few seconds, then asks, "You sure,
Dylan?" I nod that I am and Robby looks relieved. He says, "Ya know, it's
probably a good thing because even when I'm on the job I can't spend much time
with you, although I do love seeing your face everyday... your ass too, for that
matter." I mumble, "Yeah, I noticed that. I mean about you not spending much
time with me, not the other things." Robby says, "Me being a supervisor changes
the opportunities for you and me to, you know... do the stuff we could do last
year. Not only that but I'll be away half the time from now to the end of the
summer. There's a three day seminar on landscape design in Boston next week and
the  week after  that  I'll be in New Jersey for a four day course on, of all
things, landscape waterfalls. Chad will be running the crew so it's a load off
my mind, to be honest with you, that you won't need to endure that potentially
humiliating situation." He seems so sincere and sweet, we smile at each other,
and I ask, "So, you're not mad; you're glad I'm quitting!" he's being playful
when he says, "Yeah, mostly because I won't have to worry you'll win Chad over
while I'm away and I'll come back to find him following you around like he's
your puppy dog; the way I did last summer." He was kidding, I think. We bumped
our sides against one another and he told me how he's being promoted to
landscape design next year and Chad will be the permanent supervisor on this
grass cutting crew. Chad isn't going to college. He's working full time at a
trade to get experience for eventually working for his father; same for Chad's
brother. All I could think of was, "Guess I won't be  cutting grass for Dickers
Landscape and Design company next  summer!" Robby was upbeat when saying, "Oh, I
didn't tell you this; I got a try-out for Merimack's freshman baseball team too,
so that's another reason I won't be around too much the next two weeks. But
here's the really great thing: it won't be long before we'll be living together
at college, Dylan! Won't that be awesome, it'll make up for our lost time
together. I can't wait for that!" Me either, except what are the sleeping
arrangements going to be, and what about Connor... and what about Gary? And then
there's always the unpredictable Willie in the mix; should be fun!

We start walking again with both me and Robby relieved at this latest
development. Not only isn't he upset with me for quitting, it's in both our best
interest. Plus, I really do want the time off! I didn't need to spend much of my
money at the shore because we mostly spent the stolen money, so I'm good with
money. Also something is obvious, although  Robby's been a little unsure of
himself tonight, the reality is that Robby has become more of the dominant
figure for the two of us, sexually; it started slowly months ago and  that's
changed things, and now with Chad in the picture I have to wonder what
additional  changes that will bring. For now though, forget about Chad; Robby
and I are in a good place with each other. Back at the parking lot, Robby says,
"Let's get a Dairy Queen. Ya wanna?" I say, "Okay, but just so I'm sure I got
things in perspective, tell me again how you feel about me compared to how you
feel about Chad." Robby smirks, and says, "Is someone acting a little jealous?"
I say, "Just me, and it ain't a little." He gets serious and says, "I'm in love
with you forever, Dylan. Chad's just some hot sex on the side, but sex with you
is at least twice as hot as it is with him and as for the romantic part, there's
no comparison. Do you want me to dump him?" Well, I'd like him to but then I'd
need to dump Willie and I'm not ready to do that yet. Plus, there's the little
matter of my other buddy sex on-the-side that we've not discussed; we haven't
discussed  it because he's unaware of it and  I'm still not sure  what to  do
about that. So,  everything  considered, and feeling a little guilty and
therefore a little nervous, I talk too fast, babbling, "No, don't dump him on my
account. You're right, it's your   business, not mine. You and me can have sort
of an open relationship; that is until we're mature enough to be true to only
each other. Let's see, then we'll be like married or something and, actually, we
can get married in this state although I'm not sure if we'd still be legally
married if we move to another state." Robby's kind of laughing when he says,
"Jeez, such a comprehensive answer... a simple 'no, would have been fine."
Matching the playfulness of Robby's response, I say, "That Chad whats-his-name
is a bad influence on you, Robby! You never used to be flipped." With a cute
grin, he says, "Oh, I thought I learned that from you," and we kiss again. After
that I ask, "Did you learn to kiss this good from that tramp, Chad?" Robby goes,
"Yep! See you at the Dairy  Queen!"

Robby's pickup pulls out first with me following in the Jeep, wondering, "Did we
settle  everything? It seems like stuffs  still floating around that we haven't
gotten too yet."  We've settled on being boyfriends in love, both with
acknowledged sex-buddies on the side. What could possibly go wrong in that kind
of a relationship?! Robby drives through a yellow light, but I need to stop at
the red. It gives me more time to consider how I feel about that Chad creep
fucking my boyfriend. And does he use a condom? I gotta check on that with
Robby, but also... why do I always need to be the bottom? What's up with that? A
few loose ends to talk about; maybe that's what's giving me this feeling that
there's stuff still floating around, but I definitely believe everything Robby
told me. And then I checked myself to see if I really do believe him or if it's
just  that I want to believe him so badly. Hmmm, it's both. I feel sure he's not
lying to me and I  don't think he's purposely holding back anything although
there may be some things that he  doesn't feel are important  that I might feel
are important. We need to talk about him and me some more, but this is a really
good start.

Pulling up to the Dairy Queen in my Jeep I see there's a lot of kids milling
around, like always. Mary Jo's crowd hangs out here a lot but she's bowling with
Chubby tonight. Uh oh, there's Robby's pickup and he's still in it talking with,
of all people, meeping Chad! God damnit! This is too soon to be dealing with
him, but I can't just leave. And did Robby know Chad was going to be here? Damn,
I hope not! Okay, I'll park the Jeep and be cool. I've reconsidered the
situation 'cause it's not as if Robby's tom-catting around;  Robby's only
sharing sex with Chad, his brother Dodger, and the two threesomes with Dodger
and his boyfriend, Vinnie... and  that's it; well, plus me, of course. Jesus
though, just now thinking about Robby and Dodger doing it and all of a sudden my
dick started moving: brother sex! It's like when Chubby and me do it,  only with
real blood-relative-brothers. Then I recall the scene of Robby fucking Dodger
live in the garage and it got me groping at Robby's shorts, the ones I'm
wearing, not the ones he's wearing. Ha! Okay, that's the right frame of mind! I
park the Jeep across the street and  get out; to be cool I light a cigarette
while walking over to Robby's pickup and with a forced grin on my face, I yell
over, "Yo, Chad, good ta see ya, dude." I could tell he was expecting me from
the way he said, "Oh my, if it isn't Dylan Newman. How the meep are ya?" He
didn't say it in a friendly way and he said it before he'd turned completely
around to see me. Robby obviously told him I was coming. Chad's flattop mimicked
Robby's in that it's blond and needs cutting; I'll  pass on the opportunity  to
do that haircut,  thank you very much. I gotta  admit Chad's a damn
good-looking kid  though.  Slim, long legged, real  boyish looking kid with
sexy-hot green eyes that catch your attention right off the bat. He's wearing
one of those sleeveless t-shirts I think look so sexy on certain boys; he was
wearing one the first time I met him and he happens to be one of the boys it
looks especially sexy on too. His shorts tonight aren't gym shorts, but his thin
hairless legs looked just as long coming out of the cargo shorts as they did
that first morning I spotted him and his brother sitting there in gym shorts
with their legs crossed in that slightly sissy manner; the back of one knee
hanging from the top of the other. Chad looks younger than eighteen too and
again I feel the twinge of jealousy from the way Robby's staring at him. Chad
and I didn't do the normal guy thing of a quick handshake, hug, and pat on the
back; we did more of a dismissive wave at each other. We're acting a little
awkward; it's an uncomfortable situation frankly, but like I said, Chad looks
good  close up like this. The major problem with Chad, other than he's Robby's
boyfriend, is that he has a combative personality; he's not nice to anyone I've
seen him interact with except Robby.

Robby  takes a big  breath and  gets out of the pickup, saying, "Dylan, I just
told Chad  about us so he's being a little rude at the moment." Chad goes,
"Yeah, meeping forgive me if I'm not feeling real happy about being bitch
slapped by my boyfriend here." He turns to Robby then, and asks, "Or aren't we
boyfriends anymore, Rob?" Robby says, "You're acting like a jerk, Chad. I told
you from the start I have a boyfriend, you're the one who calls you and me
boyfriends and in a way we are; we're just not in-love boyfriends like me and
Dylan. That's the difference." Chad spits out, "What if I thought you and me
were in love? Huh? Or what if I'm in love with you, Rob? What should I call
myself then?" Strangely, I kinda felt bad for Chad 'cause he probably feels like
he just got dumped or demoted or something that's not good; something like he
said, bitch slapped. A shame, really. Robby puts his hand on Chad's shoulder and
quietly says, "You're my boyfriend too, I just meeping told you that." Chad
shrugs his shoulder away from  Robby's hand, and says, "Oh,  I'm your boyfriend
when you need  to get  fucked real good since  your so-called in-love boyfriend
can't fuck worth a shit! Is that it? When you're horny you call me in to scratch
your itch, but when you want to be romantic or ya wanna stick that little dick
of yours up someone's ass you call your in-love boyfriend for that; he'll bend
over for you any time you snap your fingers. How many other boys are you
stringing along, Rob?" Robby's pissed, he snarls, "I never said Dylan can't
fuck! You lie! And, I don't have any other boyfriends; you two are the only ones
I've ever had." Chad frowns, then looks at me with contempt, and says, "I'd
never have picked you to be Rob's mysterious secret boyfriend. Are you sure
you're even gay? On the job I thought you were just a nosey wiseass prick!"
Staring into his eyes, I slowly say, "How'd you like me to knock a few of your
teeth down your throat? Huh?" Taking a step towards him gets Robby stepping
between Chad and me, saying, "This is stupid!  Chad, I already told you that
our  relationship hasn't changed. It's just like it's  been  all summer except
everything is out  in the open now. What's that called, Dylan? Transparency?" I
shrug like, "How the hell do I know?" and Robby finishes with, "Anyway, let's
act our age here. And Dylan, don't always be so ready to start a fight; I like
Chad's teeth just the way they are," and he hugged Chad's shoulders which Chad
let him do this time. Chad actually leaned into Robby, saying, "Yeah Rob, you're
right. My feelings are hurt, that's what it is. You and me will work it out;
sorry I lost it there for a minute. My bad! I'll call ya later tonight or
tomorrow, okay?" Robby says, "Absolutely. Would you two shake hands at least."
Chad, to his credit, holds out his hand and we do a quick one-pump handshake.
Chad says to Robby, "I should be joining my homeboys over there anyway." He nods
at me, then leans in to whisper something to Robby who mumbles, "You're probably
right, I screwed it up. Talk to ya later." The sides of their faces touched and
my jealous streak  flared bright green, but I said  nothing.

Chad walked away without looking back. He joined two kids sitting on the  bumper
of an old shitbox car, smoking. One of the kids was real gay looking with
painted fingernails, long hair dyed purple and wearing what looked like a girl's
blouse and tiny shorts that reminded me of Chad's shorty-shorts that first day
at work. Robby says, "Chad whispered to me that I should have waited to tell him
about you and me. Tell him when he and I could have talked it out alone. I think
he's right, but I wanted to clear my conscience with both of you. Are you pissed
off at me; how do you feel about this whole mess?" Taking a humorous approach, I
go, "I can't fuck worth a shit? Is that what you say about me?" Robby knows I'm
kidding around; he says, "Well, you're okay but you're no Chad Bundy." I go,
"This is a fake grin on my face, by the way." Robby smiles at that, and then
looks serious when he asks, "You and I are straight with all  this, right? I've
admitted to having a boyfriend on the side which means I'll be splitting myself
between you two at times. We understand each other, Dylan? We're good with
this?" Jeez, when he puts it that way, I kinda want to rebel somehow, but what
can I say. Robby's giving me a little of my own behavior back at me and I gotta
swallow it because I love this boy something terrible! So, I say, "I understand,
Robby. I'm good with 'cause I love you too much not to accept what I can get of
you." He says, "It'll be okay, Dylan. I'll be with you much more than I'll be
with Chad, I just want you to know that there will be times I'm gonna be with
him. I'm in love with you so much it's hard to explain, but Chad is a hell of a
sexy thing and I really like being with him too." I look away, then look him in
the eyes and surrender, "I know, Robby... I'm okay with it."  He gets an arm
around my neck and playfully pulls be against him, then, raises his eyebrows
like  he just got a great idea, and says,  "How about we go some place where I
can remind you  how good a fuck I put on your ass. You up for that?" Robby was
acting more like his confident self again. Earlier it was more like he wasn't so
sure of himself and he was  acting more like the Robby of last summer which I
gotta admit is the one I fell in love with, but this version is pretty good too.
Very few things in life stay the same and teenagers especially are always
evolving. I say, "You gonna spank my ass and then fuck it and then make me suck
your cock clean?" He goes, "Yep!" and I go, "Goody!"

First though, we stood in line for vanilla soft serve cones and while we're
eating them, I go, "Obviously there's no way this is real ice cream, so what is
this cold concoction in our cones?" Robby takes a exaggerated luscious long lick
of the vanilla soft serve; he's got the sexiest tongue in the world. He says,
"Damn if I know. I've often wondered that myself; tastes good though," and his
beautiful pink tongue lapped up the side of that soft serve again coming away
with a  tongue  full of creamy white stuff making my cock move in my pants.
Robby had gained a lot of his confidence back by now and proved it a few times
by the way he said stuff, and the things he said. It was giving me a hard-on.
Then, finished our cones, standing together, we discussed where would be the
best place for Robby to give my ass a good fucking, then I say, "No, wait!" and,
hitting my forehead with  my open  hand, I go, "Duh! What am I thinking, Robby?
We can use my  condo; everyone's out tonight doing different stuff till much
later!" Robby's like, "Oooh, in your bed, yes!" I say, "It's my bed, but I
haven't slept in it for the past two weeks." He's like, "Yeah, but it's where
you usually sleep and it'll be sooo sexy to fuck you there. Come on, let's go,
I'll race ya!" We're excited now as we head for our cars.

We'd both had good climaxes about an hour ago, but we're eighteen years old for
Christ sakes and we've got reserve spunk when we need to tap into it. In the
Jeep's drivers seat I get this real squirmy feeling in my groin just thinking
about Robby's dick inside my body again; yeah, I like to bottom best! Especially
for Robby! Groping myself while starting the Jeep, I thought back to a few
minutes ago and the way Robby was looking real confident and even a little smug.
We'd been quietly finishing the cones when he squeezed the back of my neck
pulling my head over a bit, asking, "You  hot for me, Dylan?" He'd obviously
gotten all his confidence back by sorting out his  two boyfriends; got us
thinking and doing things his way. I'd nodded my head at his question about me
being hot for him; I was hot from the anticipation of things to come.  Ya know,
actually I wish I could be a little cooler about things like this, but damn,
Robby really does have me hot for him and it's been over two weeks since he's
fucked me so I'm like a kid on Christmas morning wanting my gifts. It's one
thing to cum in my pants from making-out and quite another  thing to have my
spunk fucked out of me. It was just a few minutes ago that I'd bit my lip trying
not to gush over Robby. He was acting his confident way again and I could tell
he was really happy about the way things worked out between him, me and Chad. He
had things pretty much the way he wants them and I'm kind of proud of him for
handling it straight-up, coming right out with the way things are and the way
they're going to be, so I gushed over him a little, "You're so sexy, Robby...
Um, I could never dump you and I hope you never dump me." He'd tilted his head
to the side a little  and, with a wicked cute grin, and in just a slightly
arrogant way, he'd said, "You be a good boy and maybe I won't need to dump ya,
okay? Can you be good?" I can't believe I'd almost said, "Yes, I'll be good,
Robby." I barely contained myself; I wanted to be submissive to him so
badly. It's amazing how helpless I get around a cute boy who a little dominant;
especially when I'm in love with him. Robby's playing everything perfectly at
the moment.

Driving to my house I actually gasped twice with twitches in my balls just from
thinking about that little dominance game Robby pulled on me while we were
licking our cones,; him talking about me being a good boy and all. It makes me
think of Willie who I haven't seen in almost four months; nobody can do the
sweet dominant routine on me like Willie can, and I still love him too. Oh, I'm
not in love with him anymore although I was for the longest time; now I  just
love him as a friend and sex-buddy.  He's really cute in his unique  way
though, plus there's that eight inch cock of his and his bossy manner with me;
it all  combines to get my balls shrinking and moving to the  top of their sack
while my dick gets as hard as a steel rod; it's sexy and  awesome.  Then I tell
myself, "Oh my God, calm down, Dylan! Use your energy to concentrate on Robby
and the great sex he's going to put on your ass!"  Anyway, Willie may never even
call me again. Nah, Willie's in love with me, he'll call.

Robby beat me to my house; that boy drives too fast. He's sitting on the top
step smoking one of his yucky menthol cigarettes; when did he start smoking  so
much anyway? Was he smoking this much two weeks ago? Hell, I saw so little of
him the month or so before I left for vacation I can't recall. He yells down the
steps,  "What took ya so long, Dylan?" I come charging up the steps and surprise
him by getting him in a headlock, saying, "You're smoking too much! Is it
because I wasn't here for you to snap your fingers at?" He's holding me around
my waist with one arm and keeping the other arm away so the cigarette doesn't
burn one of us. He says, "Oh, I'm smoking too much for sure! It's these
menthols, there addictive! But, what's this? You say you were away someplace?
Really? For how long?" I say, "That's so funny", then pressing my face against
the top of his head I inhale his wonderful aroma and then kiss the top of his
head feeling his thick flattop hair on my cheeks; his hairs are fine and silky
but there's so many of them packed tightly together they create a thick silky
mat. What a perfect  specimen of a boy Robby is and I get to have most of him;
Chad gets leftovers. That's how I interpreted what Robby was explaining to me. I
kiss the side of his head again because, what the hell, no one  can tell I'm
kissing him; it looks like we're  wrestling. Robby struggles to get free but I
won't let him go until he says, "I fucking give already!" Letting go of his neck
then, I say, "You smell so awesomely sexy it's sick, dude! How do you manage
that?" He's dragging on his cigarette looking quizzical, exhaling the smoke and
then smelling the back of his wrist, he says, "That's funny, I can't smell
myself, but to me you're the one who smells awesomely sexy." I go, "Hmmm,
convenient, huh? We were made for each other, Robby." Robby steps on his
cigarette butt and gets serious, "Dylan, I hope you mean that! I get dizzy
sometimes just thinking about you. So dizzy with desire for you I embarrass
myself." Then he squeezes my shoulder and, looking me in the eyes, says, "Now
get your bubble-butt ass inside the house and get those clothes off 'cause I'm
gonna fuck you till you can't even remember your boyfriend-on-the-side's name!"
I gulped, grabbed my crotch and croaked, "Jesus, Robby! You're  really doing it
right!" He says, "Get moving," and then hugs be back into him like we're still
wrestling and whispers in  my ear, "I forbid you to go on any more vacations!
It's too hard on me when you're away!" I want him to kiss me on the lips so
badly, but not right here. Up against Robby like this, I can feel his heart
beating and it's beating faster than normal, just like mine....

to be continued.... Epilogue Part 2 in your email soon.

Donny Mumford          thinat20@yahoo.com