Date: Tue, 4 Jan 2011 13:35:07 -0800 (PST) From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com> Subject: 12 MIKE and RICHIE Chapter 12 by Donny Mumford MIKE and RICHIE Chapter 12 by Donny Mumford Forget about what I said to Tiny Dick; I'm not doing another pool party with him. I've come to my senses; no more pool parties! And, after giving it more thought, I'm dropping any thought of asking Tom Brown for a spanking party too. Instead of those things I got an abscessed tooth to occupy my mind. Well, actually the abscess wasn't my idea at all. It's two days after the pool party and I'm miserable; I don't even want to answer my bleeping cell phone because I'm in pain! It might be Mike though, so I do answer it and it is Mike. The sound of his voice excites me and I forget about my toothache for a bit; his voice also gives me a guilty conscience about the Tiny Dick affair, but I force that out of my head for now. I'm hoping Mike's calling from the train station in Philadelphia, but he's not, he's calling from California to say they're extending their trip a whole week. "Christ, Richie, I had a great time with Danny, but he's off sailing some god damned place with his Coast Guard buddies now. Mom and me figure that after going through so much trouble getting out here we might as well see some sights." He lowers his voice, to add, "Don't worry though, Richie, when I get back I've got what you need and want; I'll make it up to you. Am I right, Richie, do I got what you need?" He's in a very upbeat happy mood which contrast sharply with my sulking, painful, and disappointed one. Mike asks again, "Well, am I right?" I managed to say, "Sure Mike, you're right." My jaw's swollen something terrible and the pain is blinding again. My dad's taking me to his dentist in a half hour and for once in my life I can't wait to get to there. I need a shot of Novocaine, or something! The tooth began aching early in the morning; it woke me with the pain about five. As the day progressed it got worse and worse, and then even worse until tears rolled down my face. It's an intense, throbbing pain, and now that I discover Mike's going to be away another week or so, the pain is back to ruling my world. At a lull in Mike's dissertation I told him about the abscessed tooth and the agony I'm in. He says, "Oh, that's a shame." and then goes on to tell me how cool the Golden Gate Bridge is. Maybe I'd get caught up with his enthusiasm for sightseeing if I were feeling better, but with this toothache, frankly, I could give a shit how cool the Golden Gate Bridge is. Still, it's rare Mike's this effervescent about anything so I managed a few, "Wow! Kewl!!" for Mike's sake. He can get a little wrapped up in himself from time to time, but who of us is perfect, right? Surprising myself, I realize I'm actually glad when Mike finally hangs up. And amazingly, I don't even care all that much that he's staying another week... the toothache rules everything, it dominates me even more than Mike does, or than Tom Brown, or Tucker Dwight. Oh man, I'm punchy at this point. Dad's off work so he's able to drive me to his dentist for an emergency appointment. and when the dentist gives me that shot of Novocaine the pain disappeared, like a miracle! He said it would be back, but he prescribed some stuff to help me through it. I need to take one medication for the infection and another for the pain. The problem tooth had to come out, but not until the swelling goes down. That tooth made for a lousy five days, and then the tooth extraction extended my discomfort another couple of days. What a crappy week! It kept my mind off my horny side though. Well, the tooth problem in conjunction with me jerking myself off; both things combined did the trick. As soon as I started to feel good again I realized how bored I am. All I've been doing is lying around the house watching daytime TV which almost made me yearn for the tooth ache again. Oh my God does daytime TV suck. I need to get out so I take a shower, then ride Mike's motorbike to the boardwalk and immediately hook up with Tony and Joey. "Where ya been, Richie? Man, I missed ya. I called your place a couple times but no answer, dude. Whats up with that?" It makes me feel good that Tony's excited about me showing up. I hadn't been answering the phone after Mike's call because I felt lousy and I explained that to the boys. Then I ask Tony, "Where's that prick Tiny Dick? What have you guys been up to?" We walk down the boards, with Joey complaining, "What? Am I fucking invisible? You homos just fuckin' ignore me?" I give Joey a neck hug and we wrestled a little. No boners from Joey though, he's a true straight boy for sure; kinda cute though. I'd asked about Tiny to see if Tony reacted oddly and gratefully he didn't, just a normal shrug and a, "I don' know. I saw him a couple of days ago... same ole, same ole, ya know?" No danger signs that Tiny had shared our secret with Tony, but there is something different about Tony that I can't put my finger on. Same red buzz-cut hair, same odd tattoo and outlandish pirate earrings. Same squinting eyes and puzzled expression, and same sweet nature. Then it hits me, a I ask, "Tony, where's your lip stud?" In a pissed-off manner, indicating this is serious, Tony tell us that he swallowed, That fucking clamp thingie," when it accidentally separated from the stud. He goes on to explain, "That god damn thing cost forty bucks, Richie. I've been shitting onto a plastic plate the last couple days looking for it. I squash up the turds with a fork." Tony's completely sincere telling us this, and so can't figure out for the life of him why Joey and me are hanging on each other laughing like crazy. "What? You guys thing I should just flush the fucker down the toilet? No way man...that's forty bucks." Just another Tony moment. After composing ourselves, we walk on down the boardwalk, not looking for anything in particular, just killing time. This is our hook-up territory and we let things happen naturally. Something interesting usually develops, but if it don't, well, we liked being with each other anyway. It's a great feeling, that feeling of 'belonging'. We belong to our gang and the boardwalk's our turf. Joey and me are letting our buzz cuts grow out. Joey felt he was getting too old for a buzz cut and I just think my hair looks better when it's longer. I missed the last haircut with Mike 'cause I was helping my dad clean-out the garage. Now Mike will be away over three weeks so it like two months since my last buzz cut and my hairs growing out nicely. Joey and me measure how long our hair is and mine is growing out faster than his. It's about an inch and a half long all over my head. When we get done screwing around with our hair Joey asks Tony how he keeps liquids from running out the hole in his lower lip now that the stud isn't blocking-up the hole. Tony, of course, took the question seriously and tells us there is some drooling, but he's turned that into a positive. He's in the process of perfecting a trick to attract the babes using the hole in his lip. As soon as he says the word "babes" his eyes dart over to me; I'd seen him blowing Tiny Dick way back at the graduation party and it seems he's suspicious who Tiny might have told. I look away obliviously and fire up a cigarette. Tony's satisfied his secret is safe and goes about showing us how with a mouthful of water he exerts pressure from inside his mouth causing a thin stream to squirt out through that hole in his lower lip. I have to laugh, it's so bizarre. Tony's very pleased with himself and Joey's rolling his eyes at me, as Tony goes, "Just one more fucking thing I can do that no one else can." Later, Tony buys a cup of French Fries and hands one to share with Joey who gets an incredulous expression on his face, his eyes open wide, as he exclaims, "No fucking way man. You been playing with your doodies on a plastic plate looking for that fucking stud clasp. I'm not taking no french fry from those fingers!" Tony's like, "Fuck you then." That's the way it went all afternoon, just a routine time on the boardwalk. We stayed out till around ten p.m. and then I rode Tony home behind me on Mike's motorbike, and afterward went home myself. We hadn't run into any of the other guys; the only one I really wanted to see was Tucker. I want to be sure we were both cool with the situation, and both in agreement to keep it to ourselves. I haven't seen him since he dominated me in that swimming pool ten days ago. I gotta admit we had a hot time, and what the hell, I like Tucker, but I'm wondering how he'll react when he, Tony, and me are all together. I have to believe him and Tony have something going on between them 'cause Tony is always right there next to Tiny, er, Tucker. It's kinda like I'm always right there next to Mike. I'm now expecting Mike home sometime tomorrow. A feeling of excitement, of almost nervous anticipation, is spinning around in my head; it's like that reunion we had after Mike left me 'cause he was embarrassed about his drunken declaration of love, among other things. I'm thinking about Mike and what he'll want us to do first. Jeez, I swear to God it gives me a boner just thinking about him. That hot blond buzz cut, his cute face and sexy voice, those twin little hoop ear rings, so cool. You know, if I wanted to get real, I could make a case for Mike being not only wicked cute, but also beautiful. But, at the same time, I gotta emphasize that there isn't a single feminine quality in Mike; just the opposite. He's all boy, but what facial features, ya need to see him to believe him. I swear, some mornings when I open my eyes and see Mike's face relaxed during sleep, it takes my breath away! And his body, the feel of it, so sexy and tight with his natural aroma that sometimes makes me dizzy with desire. I can't wait to see, feel, taste, smell, hear him; but I'm also a little nervous, like I said. I always worry I'm not good enough for him. Then there's the sex he puts on my body, it's hotter than hot. Thinking about all this is too much for me so I go into the bathroom and do a slow jerk-off thinking about Mike. Sitting on the toilet seat and breathing hard, I blast a load of spunk up against the bathroom door. Damn, I never hit the door before, not from here... damn, what a climax. I feel a little bit better, but I still can't wait for Mike. I love him, it's that simple, and that complicated too. Sleep didn't come to me until after midnight because I couldn't stop thinking about seeing Mike tomorrow. I feel groggy this morning as I get up to do my usual run to the convenience store for dad's stuff. Back at the house we have coffee together; dad says he's looking forward to seeing Mike again too, but I know it's Mrs Sullivan my dad's anxious to see. They really do have something going between them, and Mike's always jokingly saying, "Oh shit, I'll be your little brother if they get married." He says that because I'm four days older than him. Today I'm making it my full time job to wait for Mike's return. When I thought I'd scream from impatience, I got his call. My hands were shaky when I picked up the phone. We both sound stupidly formal during our short conversation; I'm nervous, I guess... you know, nervous that something could further delay his return, or that some other catastrophe will keep us apart. But no, he tells me e's back and should be here as soon as he gets his mom settled in at her place. It doesn't seem possible, but I haven't seen Mike in over three weeks now. While waiting for word of him today I made a project of cleaning the place and putting our best clean sheets on the bed, and goofy stuff like that... It reminds me of the way I fussed over the cleaning when I was expecting Mike for his first night at our place. Man, that was over a year ago now... amazing! Looking out the window I'm wondering why he's taking so long. That call was made from his Mother's place; didn't he say he's getting a ride right over here. I'm looking across the street at the very spot I first saw Mike and his bike; it was right there, and boy oh boy, how that chance meeting has changed my life. We've been through a lot together since then, but where the hell is he? God, I'm fidgety and nervous! The phone rings again; it's Mike, who asks,"Where the fuck are you, numbnuts? I'm getting sick of waiting over here." I go, "What..?" and Mike yells at me that he needs a ride over here... he'd told me that during our first conversation. I misunderstood, I thought he said he'd be right over. Fuck! I run right out and jump on Mike's bike, my heart pounding at the thought of finally seeing him again. Mike doesn't like it when I screw-up though, so I'm a little apprehensive about that. I get too revved up about stuff, he's always telling me to cool it and if I was a little bit calmer on the phone initially I would have understood that he needs a ride. I bump over the curb and lay some rubber in my rush to get to him. When I get there Mike's smoking and tapping his foot, standing right outside his mother's apartment. He has the same satchel and backpack he'd brought with him to my house so long ago. I say, "Hi Mike! Sorry about the screw-up." He gives me half a smile; I'm not sure if I should hug him, but he's handing me the satchel so I guess we'll save the hugs for later. Just to say something, I go, "This is the same satchel you brought with you the first night you stayed at my place." He goes, "Well, no shit! It's my luggage; anything wrong with that?" His angry response sort of set the tone for our reunion. Now I remember: Mike gets uncomfortable at reunions, or meeting new people, because those things can be awkward at times; like this one has become because of my screw-up. Mike doesn't like to be uncomfortable so, to cover it up, he acts real gruff and tough and gets pissed off at me for no good reason. The mix-up is jointly our faults, but he totally blames me. Looking down at the ground and kind of frowning; that's my response to Mike's rude comment. Then I concentrate on biting my lower lip a little. Mike's stepping on his cigarette butt, saying nothing, so I shuffle from one foot to the other waiting for him to say something. Then he does, "Let's go! You put the god damn backpack on and grab the satchel, Richie, I'll drive my bike." I rustle around doing that and Mike gets an expression on his face that I recognize when he's feeling bad about treating me unfairly. In a quieter voice, he says, "I've had a fucked-up day, and it don't look like it's getting any better, but I didn't mean to jump down your throat. Okay?" I mumble, "Sure thing, Mike." He punches me lightly on the arm, affectionate like, and says, "I would like to get moving though, I've been waiting out here over an hour." I get on the bike behind him then, quietly saying, "Sorry," but to be honest my feeling are a little bit hurt; well, more than a little bit hurt actually. I thought he'd be happy to see me, I'm sure happy to see him. It's that 'uncomfortable' thing that prevents Mike from being demonstrative with his greeting, that's all it is. I'll just ride this awkward period out like always, and I'll bet anything Mike's back to being his old self in no time. We need to get settled into familiar surroundings and routines. At my house we put Mike's stuff away, then I ask if I can get him anything. He pulls the hair at the front of my head, and says, "The first thing you're going to get for me, is to get your ass down to the barbershop and get that hair buzzed. I'll tell you the second thing you're going to get when you get back here." I stopped right in my tracks, my heart's pounding fast again because I've decided to let my hair grow out; I've given it serious thought and came to the conclusion it's not Mike's place to tell me what to do with my hair. Hell, my father doesn't even tell me when or how to get my hair cut. The problem is it's much easier to tell Mike how I feel about this when I'm just practicing doing it in my head. Now, with Mike's right in front of me, I'm staring at him with my mouth hanging open a little./ and I've got what Mike calls, a dumb ass frown on my face. I usually do this when I'm taken completely by surprise and can't think what to say. Mike says, "Richie, don't give me that dumb ass stare, get moving. Right now!" This is so totally weird, but I feel a buzzing in my balls that happens when Mike acts like this, and it makes me want to please him so I do what he wants without arguing. Stepping toward the table to get the motorbike keys, I'm figuring: okay, I've had a buzz cut for sometime now, and it's not so bad, so, to keep the peace I'll get another buzz cut. I want Mike to feel comfortable as quickly as possible so we can get back to the way we were before that West Coast trip of his. He watches me silently as I stalk out the door pouting, get on his motor bike and roar off without another word. The barbershop's a little crowded and then when I finally get in the chair, the barber says, "You're one of Mike's boys, aren't you? Sit up straight! I know how he wants it cut." I'm speechless again! "Mike's boys, and sit up straight!" What the fuck? I sit up straight, but it's a knee jerk reaction and oh, what the hell, I don't care what this old fart thinks. The barber is really bearing down with the clippers, cutting my hair very short. When he's done with that he spends a couple of minutes outlining with the fine trimmer blade across the front of my hairline and then down the sides to the sideburns making points out of them, then outlining around my ears, and the back of my neck. It look's kind of cool actually, so I guess I'm glad Mike made me do this again. I like looking like him anyway, so this is fine. What the hell was I thinking, wanting to be like Joey? That's nuts. Riding the bike back I enjoyed the feel of the air on my buzzed head once more. Mike does things like ordering me to get a haircut because he wants me to know who's the boss, and that's fine with me 'cause I don't even want to be the boss. And in fact, my recent experience with Tiny showed me, much to my surprise, that I like being bossed around a little bit, as long as it's not mean spirited. It gives my weeny a tingle every time, to tell you the truth. Not that I'm gonna mention Tucker or Tom Brown dominating me. If I told Mike about those two he'd probably beat the shit out both of them... and he'd have a lower opinion of me. Maybe worse than a 'lower opinion'. I don't want that! And then a thought drifts in from somewhere and makes me wonder: would Mike, maybe, beat the shit out of me too? If I told him, I mean. Gee, I never thought about that, but I'm not telling him anyway so I'll just drop that subject entirely, although I may think about it some more later since I do have sort of a guilty conscience keeping secrets from Mike. For right now though I primarily want to get Mike back into good spirits. He's sitting on the front porch smoking a cigarette when I get back. "Come on over here and let me take a look, Richie," and then, "Okay, that's better, and the outlining is really cool. You look hot now, boy. Yeah, Richie's hot!" I'm feeling much better about things as Mike rubs my buzzed hair, squeezes my shoulder, and hugs me into his side. That's real nice, but then he uses a stern voice, to say, "Don't make me have to tell you again about the haircut, okay?" and then smacks the back of my head a little too hard, if you ask me. But I nod my head "yes" anyway, and Mike moves on to another subject. "I need to get you straightened out once and for all, Richie. How much money you got left after the haircut?" I check, and tell him. "Good! Come on," Mike jerks his head in the direction of the bike and off we go; where we're going, I have no clue. It's a twenty minute ride before we pull up to a spot way down the boardwalk, almost to where I ran into those Hispanic guys who chased Mike and me. Mike gets off and walks up the ramp to the boardwalk with me scampering after him. The warm breeze blows in off the ocean as we walk into a seedy looking shop that sells leather stuff and cheap jewelry and does tattoo work. This joint also sells strange looking items like dog collars for humans "Mike, whasup?" says an over-weight Indian girl, a cigarette dangling from her lips. Mike tells her to get her needle out that this kid, nodding his head at me, needs his ears pierced. I babble, "Ah, no Mike, I mean, I better not. Um, my dad...Err, that is...." Mike say, "Shut up, please... and sit over there on that stool. Stay still for Satarie." I shrug, resigned, and go over and sit down. "Both ear lobes Sattie, like mine. First, let's see some earrings and he's only got sixty five bucks on him, so what you got in that price range?" In ten minutes we're back out on the boardwalk, my ear lobes stinging and sore, a little loop earring in each pierced ear lobe just like Mike. I don't have so much as a penny left in my cargo shorts 'cause the Indian girl took it all. Mike bought us cheeseburgers and fries and large fountain sodas; we ate in silence with Mike smirking at me and adding a little grin with the smirk every once in a while. Done eating, he squeezes the back of my neck, and says, "Okay, buddy... that's a much better look for you... not so girlie!" He looks me in the eyes for a few seconds, then adds, "Thanks, Richie... you rock, dude! Now, get on the bike," and I feel really good now. We go on a long bike ride all the way over to Atlantic City, and even further. We rode on long stretches of highway without another vehicle in sight. At times I rest the side of my face against the back of Mike's neck or shoulder, as I hug him tightly. He doesn't always let me do that, but I didn't detect any resistance today so I take advantage and hug him with feeling down low on his flat taut belly. Mike's body is strong, and he has that Mike smell; I feel content and safe and happy that he's in charge of us. He makes everything special and even though my head is buzzed and my ears lobes ache from being pierced, it all fine with me. And what an excellent time it is riding that motorbike with Mike. It reminds me of that ride we took together after he saved me from those older Hispanic guys over a year ago. That scary affair started not too far from where I got my ears pierced, Mike had to save me from disaster three times that day. My goal is to get Mike back to where we were before he went on his trip and that means getting him in a comfortable situation. Well, he got himself in a comfortable situation by getting me shaped-up the way he thinks I need to be shaped-up. I know he likes to control me, but that's because I think he wants us to be alike, and I think he loves me too. He has a hard time showing it and, of course, he's always suspicious someone's disrespecting him; Mike has a lack of self confidence in that area. I'd never say that to Mike though, and I certainly would never think of disrespecting him, but he's still always on guard. We finally get back to the house and I'm kind of anxious to see how hot, to quote Mike, I look. Inside the house he's in a quiet mood, so I follow his lead and I'm quiet too. Going over to the bathroom mirror I look at my reflection to see just how cool I look. Mike's only been back in town a couple of hours and he's already transformed my looks to; to what? To look like him, I guess, and I love the result. The twin earrings change my whole appearance somehow, and them in combination with my buzzed hair... well, I gotta admit that Mike's right again: I am hot looking! Ha ha! Mike comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me tight, "Shhh, Richie, don't say anything." He rubs both his hands up and down my body, and then rubs my crotch and I get a boner right away. He's rubbing against my cock from the outside of my shorts as I'm blowing out a lot if air through closed lips. Mike whispers. "You are so gay, Richie. Shhh, be quiet, just stand there for me." The way he gives me orders in that confident voice inferring he's sure he'll be obeyed; it got me so hard as I stand as straight as I can with my cock pushing almost painfully against the front of my shorts. Mike mumbles, "Bring your head around a little," and when I do he kisses me with a lovers slow wet kiss, then sucks on my upper lip, and then back for a long French kiss, lots of tongue. He cups behind my head and pulls my head against his shoulder to kiss and lick my neck at the same spot for a couple of minutes which gets me squirming against him as my dick leaks precum. I'm taking fast short breaths now as he continues sucking my neck, then his hand slides past my waistband and inside my cargo shorts, then right in through the pee slit of my boxer underwear. He strokes my boner a few times and then gets both my nuts in a tight fisted and squeezes. "Ohhhhh! Oowww! No Mike, please, that hurts" Mike squeezes harder, saying, "Shhhhhh, it's okay, Richie, you know you like it." It hurt, but felt so good when he stopped that maybe in a crazy way he's right and I do like it, or kinda like it. Or, maybe it's that I like whatever Mike and I do together; maybe that's it. He's back to stroking my boner and the pleasure of that seems strangely enhanced when contrasted with my balls getting squeezed. Mike's always been magical to me, he always makes me feel good and today is no different. I moan out his name, and he says, "You're very special to me, Richie. I hope you know I try to only do stuff that I think will, in one way or another, be good for you." I don't care how he rationalizes it as long as I'm involved with him. This is so nice; his voice is unique and when he's almost whispering it puts me into an hypnotic state of mind... a state of mind that feels so good I forget everything except his voice, and now I find myself drooling and licking my lips, moving my head back and forth on his shoulder. He holds my head to get me to stop moving it, and then kisses the side of my forehead, holding the kiss a long time as he goes, Mmmmm!". That feeling in my groin demands attention and has me doing small thrusts with my crotch and clinching tight my sphincter muscle with each thrust. I wish Mike would stroke my boner faster, and I want to feel his boner up my ass. It's been over three weeks since the last time and my need for him is high, but Mike continues with only slow steady stroking. Slow or not, it isn't long before I go up on my toes, squeal out a long noisy whine, and then my cock explodes a stream of cum followed by two shorter ones, which get absorbed in the material of my shorts, and then it soaks through the front creating a large wet stain. My shoulders are shuddering and chills run wild around my groin as I try to breath, my heart's pounding against my ribs. I haven't had a climax like that since the last time Mike made it happen; no one can do it for me like Mike. Even after my climax has run it's course, I'm still mumbling, "It feels so good, Mike...ohhh, yeah..." After a bit he takes his hand out of my pants and lifts it to my mouth for me to lick and I taste my own cum on his fingers as a vision of me sucking Tiny's finger causes me to blush. I lick my cum off Mike's and he then rubs the slippery, spit soaked fingers up the front of my nose so I smell my own saliva, and the faint odor of nicotine. The moment is kinda ruined because of that fleeting memory of what Tiny did. After a few moments Mike quietly says, "Take your pants down, Richie. I'm going to fuck you standing up, right here, right now. You're by far my number one boy, aren't you?" Like a robot, I say, "Yes, I'm your number one boy, Mike" He adds, "You can't imagine how much I missed doing this. I'm as addicted to you as ever; it'll take time for me to beat the addiction I have for you, but for now I'm going to enjoy it!" A little out of breath with anticipation 'cause, even though I just spunked I'll be able to go again when Mike fucks me... oh, yeah, will I ever! Sounding exasperated now, he again says, "Get your pants down Richie" and I'm like, "Oh, sure," and drop my shorts, them my underwear, expecting Mike will want me to suck him off first, but he seems anxious to fuck me, which is fine by me. I'm bare-assed now, standing with my back to Mike who has a loose hold on my waist with one hand, and a tube of creamy Vaseline in the other. A quick gasp from me as the cold Vaseline is pushed into my hole, then some more and now Mike's inserting his finger all the way in and, after three weeks without this, it's very exciting! His long boner's touching my buttocks as Mike moves about getting more creamy lube from the tube. Ah ha, he's got a boner too; it came up on him when he was getting me to climax. Blowing out some air like usual, then I take another deep inhale, anxious to feel him inside me. We're both quiet as Mike positions his swollen cock head at my hole, then slowly wraps both arms around me and nuzzles my neck, going, "Mmmm, you're so special, Richie. I missed you!" So nice to hear those words but before I can say anything back to him Mike humps his hips forward and pops his cock inside me, then steadily pushes it in all the way. Flashing lights behind my eyes as I quietly squeak out, "No Mike, ow... don't," then, "Oohhh ahh," as Mike mutters. "Oh fuck, yeah!" We're standing absolutely still as Mike almost lifts me off the ground, his cock way up inside me, and the lights behind my eyes begin fading as the sexy feeling takes over for the hurt. Mike whispers, "This is so awesome Richie. Oh my God, I missed this." He spoke real low, almost like he's talking to himself. Then he pulls almost all the way out of me, and right away, goes slowly all the way back in. "Oh God, yeah," from Mike, then he starts fucking me with medium thrust, not fast... a steady rhythm. Right off I'm squirming because in this position his boner's massaging my prostate almost constantly and my cock's once again is hard and throbbing. We've never fucked standing up quite like this before, and it's wicked hot except for the fact I can't look at Mike's face. He's really pounded my ass, I can barely move in his tight grasp and I'm experiencing almost an overload to my senses, but in as fabulous a way as I could ever hope to imagine. Mike kept up the long thrusts, grunting with each one, then he reaches down to feel my dick and sees I'm bone-hard again; chuckling, he mumbles a familiar refrain, "Jesus, Richie, you are so fucking gay." He picks up the pace then and believe, I don't pay any attention to his assertion that I'm the only gay one here, all I know is getting fucked by Mike's an awesome thing, so much so I'm starting to make these embarrassing little squealie nosies with each penetration. Soon I'm pushing back against Mike's body each time he drives his cock up my ass. I want this to go on forever, but he says, "Oh fuck! I'm here already," as he grunts twice and blows a lot of air on the back of my head, squeezing my body so tightly now I can hardly breath. He's pounding his hard engorged cock up inside me faster and faster, then he climaxes making an unusual amount of noise for Mike, "AGHHHH ... AGHHHHHH!!" His cum fills my hole drooling out around his cock to run down the inside of my thighs. My own cock sprayed a small amount of watery fluid that burned coming out, but right after that it felt as good as anything I can think of. Mike slams in and out of me a half dozen times after his climax's conclusion, we're quiet again except for the heavy breathing. Spit's all over my chin and running under down to my neck as my entire body's vibrating; my hole feel so good and the same for my dick... it's perfect. Mike still has my back tight up against his chest, his cock still up my ass, then he loosens his hold on me and uses a hand to lift my spit covered chin and pull it around sideways so he can lick across my lips and rub his nose back and forth across my cheek to kiss my mouth, and quietly say, "You are so fucking hot, Richie. I missed you so much." I can hardly believe he's saying these wonderful things because not too long ago he was in the worst mood. Big playful kisses on the side of my face, and then with his lips up against my forehead he says something I think is, "I love you". I immediately ask, "What's that, Mike?" He says, "Whooee, baby, I need to sit down. That was something, Richie! How'd you like it?" He's pulling his softening cock out of me, more of his cum rolls down the inside of my thighs, as I ask again, "What'd ya say a second ago, Mike? I couldn't hear it." I'm experiencing that horribly empty feeling back there now that Mike's boner is no longer inside me, my distended anus sucks up cooler air, and it's weird! Mike plops down hard on the closed toilet seat, mumbling, "I don't know what I said, to be honest. Fucking you is awesome and I'll be sad when I outgrow the need, but whaddaya gonna do, ya know?" I go, "No, I don't know," as I stand next to him rubbing his blond buzzed hair, while wondering what to do next. Mike says, "Put your shorts on, Richie," I start to, but stop, and say, "Oh man, I gotta clean up first, Mike." He takes hold of my wrist, saying, "No, wear those shorts without any clean up 'cause when we see the guys I want to know my cum is all over your ass. Go ahead and pull your shorts on." That's what I did, but it's messy all around my buttocks and crotch. Well, it was messy until all the cum dried, some of it's mind. I felt raunchy, but sexy as hell tpp. Later, we're on the boardwalk; Mike and I are sitting on a bench watching the tourist go by, waiting for some the guys to show up. Mike says, "Well, Richie, I got you all squared away finally. How you feeling." He's back to his old self, much more relaxed and comfortable. I guess he sent me for a haircut and earrings to assure himself that nothing's changed in our relationship during the weeks he'd been away. I give him a big smile and squeeze his arm, saying, "I feel cool being all squared away," and then laugh at myself a little because he sure did get me squared away, and awfully fast too. He's only back in town a couple hours and I look like a different boy, and on top of that I've already shot off two spunk loads of my own, and have most of a Mike cum load covering my ass, inside and out. It's soaked through in a few spots, buts dried to a crusty pale layer of stiffness by now. When Tony, Kyle, and Mac show up it's one arm hugs and handshakes all the way around. The boys make a fuss over Mike's return, then they turn their attention to my new earrings; everyone thinks they're rockin'. Everything is much better, seems more important, when Mike here too. Later we head up the boardwalk taking our time, without a particular destination in mind. We often let chance meetings with the guys, and spur of the moment random happenings, shape our lives. It's late afternoon with an overcast sky and high heat and humidity. We expect the boardwalk to be cooler than inland with the ocean breeze and all, but there's very little breeze today and we're all sweating bullets. Uh oh, I see Tiny Dick, aka Tucker Dwight, walking towards us; he's alone. He'd had his fun with me less than two weeks ago in that swimming pool and as he gets closer he appears to be a little apprehensive, looking first at me, then Mike, then back to me. He's wondering, "Did Richie tell Mike what happened? Ha ha! Of course I didn't, but Tiny doesn't know that; he's been hard to find lately and I wonder if it's because he's worried about our pool party. Mike shoots Tiny with his thumb and index finger, and rhetorically asks, "How them big balls hanging, Tiny?" Tiny looks at me and I give him a barely perceptible head shake, slightly back and forth, one time. Tiny brightens right up and shows us one of his great smiles, which is what Tiny does whenever in doubt, then he welcomes Mike back. It's funny seeing Tiny under normal circumstances after what he and I went through together. Once again, I gotta admit what a giant surprise it was to discover that Tiny's one dominating SOB when he's in the right mood, and finds himself in a conducive situation for it. I'd had a good time that afternoon with him, but I'm not about to mention anything about it to Mike. All us guys go about exchanging quick one arm hugs and fist bumps with Tiny, then later Tiny, when he's sure Mike couldn't see him, grabs a fist full of my ass, and goes, "Your earrings are hot, Richie! You look even hotter then before and I need to fuck you over to the pool one of these days real soon." It makes me nervous having his hand on my ass, I say, "Goddammit, Tucker, don't do that pinch thing or you and me will be rolling around on this fucking boardwalk!" We're more or less whispering to each other, as Tucker goes, "I'll save the pinching for the pool, and you'll take it if I say you will. Hey, I've been thinking a lot about you, Richie!" I go, "Oh yeah? How so?" He whispers, "I wanna do your ass again, your boy pussy's the best thing I ever ran into!" Mike turns around and wants to know what all the whispering's about. Tiny doesn't reply to that, but says, "Mike, it looks like Richie got some wet stuff on the back of his cargo shorts that's dried stiff...here, take a look, and look over his other butt too. What'd ya sit in, Richie?" Mike chuckles, and goes, "Yeah what was it, Richie?" I act irritated, and go, "How the fuck should I know, and quit looking at my ass anyway, you homos." And off we go down the hot, hot boardwalk, sweating to beat the band; me for reasons other than the weather too. That asshole Tiny! Not that Mike picked up on anything. Tiny fucking me is one of the last things Mike would ever give a thought to. Looking over at the boys, I see Joey, Kyle and especially Tony, in the process of trying to intimidate a couple of tough looking young teenage boys, without much success. There's a seemingly never-ending battle among those three, and Mac too when he's around, as to who's the alpha dog among them; one of them is always trying to one-up the others. This is a little different though, what happened was: The cuter of the two youngsters is smoking a cigarette and he's got a damn good mean-tough-guy look going for him as he's staring at Tony who's being a complete fool spraying lemonade out the blow-hole in his lower lip. The kid with the cigarette looks at his bud and smirks, then does a mocking clap. Tony's pissed when he sees the two boys staring at him and, you know, he goes with his favorite challenge line, "What the fuck are you two looking at ?" One thing led to another, and now it's, "What are you going to do about it?" And like that; a tense scene, and an unexpected one because the older teens like Joey and kyle expect the younger ones to back down. Instead the younger boys are joined by three more kids who look a little older and who knows what's going to happen. Mike and me are getting cones and observing the drama. Trying to instigate, Mike, pretending he doesn't know any of our boys, yelled over to Joey, Kyle, and Tony, "Hey, why don't you punks pick on somebody your own size...." Tony snaps his head around to say something bitchin back to Mike until he sees it's him, and then he can't help but laugh out loud, calling over, "You assholes!" and then Joey and Kyle chime in with insults; the young teens forgotten. The extra kids wander away and by the time we look up the two boys who did the initial staring are a block down the boards, both of them giving us the middle finger using both hands, pumping their fingers up and down. Little smart-ass fuckers! I smile and waved at them which gets them pumping their fists faster and screaming out obscenities that have many a boards-walker turning to look in astonishment young boys using the worse kind of curse word; the boys' parent would be so proud! I had to laugh though, cute kids with moxie, ya got to love 'em. Tiny's now back to being his old self, which is quite pleasant and we get along great. Then a little later, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Tiny nod his head slightly at Tony who scurries right over, his right hand in his baggy shorts pockets, playing with himself. Tiny Dick whispers something to Tony and fifteen minutes later those two brake off from the group and head down the steps to the beach. They mutter something about hoping for a breeze on the beach, then, with a wave, Tiny yells, "You guys rock!" and with that great smile of his he gives the black power salute as the two of them disappear down the steps to do who knows what. Joey goes, "Black power salute? What the fuck?" I still can't see Tony being as docile or submissive as Tiny wants, but then I surprised myself by doing it, so why not Tony? Mike lights up a cigarette and blows some smoke rings at a group of girls, who all look away giggling. It's so cool walking the boards with Mike. Nowadays I'm the guy who gets to walk next to him Mac don't like it a bit so he isn't hangin' with us as much anymore. Mike don't give a shit what Mac likes, or who he hangs with. As we're walking our bare arms will sometimes rub against one another and I love the feel of Mike, even the side of his arm. Sometimes, when my arm rubs against his I want to lift it to my nose and see if some of his special smell rubbed off to me. He can give me boners without him even being aware of it. I've tried to walk like Mike, it's definitely a swagger, but I just can't do it right. I do the best I can with it though, it feels cool walking like that and smoking with a stern look on my face almost daring someone to say something smartass to me. By now I know the guys in our gang and maybe twenty other guys... well, not know, I know their names and they know mine. We're "somebody" on the boardwalk; we're known as being part of, 'Mike Sullivan boys'. Mike's "the man" of course, and the rest of us live off his reputation, and Mike's brother's reputation from earlier years is a damn big part of it too; maybe a bigger part than Mike's. Tonight we all ride the double shot, eat pizza, smoke cigarettes, and later on pick up a couple of cute girls. One of them asked Mike for a match and one thing led to another and they hung in there with us. The guys are showing off something terrible and, frankly, it's embarrassing, but the straight boys can't help themselves. Only two girls so Mike let's Kyle and Joey win over the girls. Those two walk the girls down to the beach; maybe they'll get laid, or at least make-out a little. I could see that the girls wanted Mike to stick with them, but he claimed to be too beat up from his cross country trip. He and I walked back down to where we'd parked the bike and we rode home then 'cause it's true, Mike's tired, not that I think he wanted to make out or fuck one of the girls in the first place; not when he has me. Anyway, he seems more like his old self and I'm having a hard time keeping my hands off him; every chance I get I grab his arm or shoulder or the back of his neck. He is so cool with everything he says or does, and he gives me knowing smirks and grins as I'm going about my groping of him. His biceps are hard muscle, mostly from the lifting but he's naturally strong also; some kids are like that. I'm not afraid to say it, I'm wicked hooked on Mike Sullivan! Taking the opportunity that's right in front of me, I go a little overboard hugging him tightly around the waist during the ride home; no complaints from Mike, but, Jesus, do I ever have a hard, hard-on. It's aching and leaking, and never mind Mike got me off twice a few hours ago. Hell, that was then, this is now. I can't wait to get in bed with Mike. We arrive safely at the house and inside Mike says he needs a shower bad, but as soon as he's undressed he decides he needs me to suck him off even more than he needs a shower. It's my turn to smirk and grin at him, at first pretending I'm too tired but he knows that's bull-crap. I take the rest of my clothes off as I'm doing a fake yawn which makes Mike laugh. I get completely undressed because he insist on me being totally naked before he'll let me put his cock in my mouth. We're both sweaty due to the aforementioned hot humid temperature tonight, but there's no hesitating on my part, sweaty or not, I take his soft cock in my hand, then lick it from his balls to the head, on all sides too, and then suck it inside my mouth and tongue it until it's all slippery and wet with spit. The boner I sprung during the ride here has retreated quite a bit, but when I press my nose into Mike's damp pubes my dick firms right up again, and feel mighty good! I need to deal with the unexpected challenge of lapping off the remnants of the Vaseline, cum, and my ass juices from the earlier sex Mike laid on me. That stuff is mixed with Mike's sweat and is runny by now so easily licked clean. When I've cleaned Mike's cock real good I finally get down to the real taste of his cock, which is yummy to me. Taking everything slow, with me eyes closed; everything's erotic and dreamy as I "slurp, slurp, slurp," on that awesome hard penis. Mike interrupts my pleasure by smacking the back of my head and telling me to look up at him while I'm sucking his cock, "Keep your eyes looking up, Richie, 'cause when I look down I like to see your eyes... I've told you that before." My eyes go right up to the top of their sockets and Mike gives me a sweet smile and an affectionate rub of my head, then a squeeze on my shoulder, "Mmmmm," slips out of Mike's mouth and I all of sudden need to stroke myself. What a fabulous thing it is to share sex with the one boy in all the world I want to do it with; the boy I'm in love with. Mike's strong body odor is in my head by now, which is not a negative thing; his odor is never revolting or nasty because he's been blessed with a naturally pleasant body scent, sweaty or otherwise. It's pleasant in a hot sexy way. Some people are like that and where Mike's concerned I consider it a gift because his scent's an aphrodisiac for me. Continuing sucking and licking his boner. and stroking the foreskin, my eyes looking up at his face, I begin fisting my own roaring boner and it's magic the way my whole body tingles like a million buzzing little electric charges. Mike sighs, humps his hips, then massages my shoulders and rubs my back using both his hands. When he reaches a certain arousal point, he holds my head in place and deep throats me, bobbing my head onto his boner which goes deeply down my throat and he pulls my head back so his boner slides out, and repeats this move as he makes an "Sssssssssss" sound between his teeth. His boner feels like it's trying to poke a hole in my throat as I keep my lip over my top teeth and my tongue over the bottom ones, my eyes fixed on Mike's face. His eyes and lips are tightly closed, his head back, grunting and making those long 's' sounds; the grunts are almost like cries of pain. It's very erotic so, in a frenzy I'm stroking my own dick as fast and tight as I've ever done it, and in a minute or so, while shaking and gagging at the size of Mike's boner, I shoot my load between Mike's feet, splattering it on the floor. Four nice, quick squirts of teen spunk. A minute later Mike has a violent climax with cum firing down my throat, then he pulls back and a creamy, sticky load hits the roof of my mouth... oh, yum! He pulls his cock out of my mouth entirely then and a blast of spunk hits my face. My tongue goes in search of it immediately with me still stroking myself. It's funny, but some orgasms are better than others and this was a really good one for both of us. Mike's fist is pumping his saliva soaked boner as he's groaning and moaning out sounds of sexual arousal and pleasure. "Whew, awesome, Richie! Good job! Man, that was uber hot, dude!" I'm beaming as the after affects of my orgasm streak around my cock, balls, and belly. My toes are just now relaxing; they'd all curled up tight when I first climaxed... a most awesome ten minutes in my life! Mike finally collapses back on the bed, mumbling, "I gotta rest for a minute; how 'bout you take your shower first." I want to collapse on the bed with him, but, out of breath and tired too, I did as I'm told. After my shower I tell Mike the bathroom's all his, but he's out cold making tiny noises like baby snoring sounds. He'd been up almost twenty two hours straight so I didn't wake him. I put on some boxer shorts and climb in next to him. His damp, bristly, buzzcut hair up against my cheek as I work my arm under his neck and pulled him to me. I can smell the boardwalk on him as well as the cigarettes; it a combined smell of french fries, sizzling sausages on a grill, and the ocean, along with the sweat on his body, but it's fine by me 'cause overriding it all is the famous naturally pleasant and sexy Mike Sullivan scent and I simply can never get enough of that. I reveled in it all, actually, hugging his sleeping body tighter still. Last night I couldn't sleep from thinking about Mike coming home today, and tonight I can't sleep because he's right here with me. As I look at the back of his head he mutters something in his sleep, then abruptly turns over facing me and I almost roll backward off the bed. His nose is touching the tip of my nose, which is nice. I left the light on in the bathroom because I thought Mike would take a shower, the doors open a crack and the light shines on Mike's face. His breath is moist as it blows on my face smelling like juicy fruit gum and Marlboro Lights. Popping into my head is the image of Mike sleeping on top of my sleeping bag one of the early nights we spent together here. I remember staring down at him as he slept a deep sleep, and for the first time realizing, and marveling at the symmetry of his facial features; the perfect way everything went together. It's like I couldn't believe my eyes. Mike wouldn't allow someone to stare at him the way I'm able to do as he sleeps, so I take advantage of that whenever I can. He's something to stare at alright! Nothing has changed in the past year that I can see, he's still just about perfect; real physical beauty in a boyish way. I struggle for air realizing I've been holding breath, so intense was my scrutiny of Mike's face, only two inches from mine. My cock firms up for the hundredth time since Mike returned and I think how very lucky I am. The musical sound of Mike's cell phone is the next thing I notice, it wakes me up. Opening one eyes just a slit, I see Mike sitting up talking quietly into the phone, then he hops off the bed and I close my eye and roll over; shortly I hear the shower. He must have taken the clothes he's going to wear with him because he didn't get dressed in here; in less than ten minutes his motorbike start up and off he goes. It's 4:10 am. Mike's mother obviously called to say they need him to work on the tomato farm this morning. Last night on the boards Mike was complaining that he'd spent all his money in San Francisco, so I'm guessing he's glad to get the work. Last year he got a call for work three or four times a week, and he worked from eight to twelve hours each time. Pretty good hourly wage too, so Mike takes full advantage of the opportunities for work whenever he can. he's not lazy and I'm not either, but it's 4:10 in the morning, for chrissakes! I get out of bed to take a quick pee, then jump back in bed on Mike's side; it's still warm as I rub my nose in his pillow, and then under it on the sheets were he slept, and Mike's smells soon has me stroking my cock again, feeling good. Okay, I admit it, I'm into sex a little more than your average kid, but so what? With Mike's pillow on my face I soon shoot off a good hard steam of cum, not even bothering with the 'cum sock' this morning. I just shoot it out onto the bed while squealing into his pillow and breathing hard with a pounding heart. I'd been without Mike for over three weeks and now that he's back I'm overdosing; or maybe just making up for lost time. "Ooh." I mumble to myself with a sigh, this is so nice; then I doze off again and awaken for the second time this morning with sun shining brightly through the bedroom window; I'm feeling rested and happy. My belly's stuck to the sheet with some of my dries spunk, but it pulls off easy enough... that was a good wank-off earlier, and it has me smiling remembering it. After my bathroom routine I jog to the convenience store to get my dad's stuff, and run into Tiny Dick as I'm coming out. His eyes get big when he sees me, "Richie, get over here!" He was real nice on the boardwalk last night, but I notice he's using that 'bad ass' voice again this morning and I'll de damned if it didn't make my dick stir. I yell, "Hey, Tucker, whassup?" He wiggles his index finger at me, and says, "Get over here!" I don't really need sex with Tucker, I've got Mike back and he's keeping me waaaay satisfied. I call back, "No can do, dude. I gotta get this shit right over to my old man. He gets pissed if he don't have his coffee." Tiny says, "How many times, I gotta tell ya; get your ass over here!" Damn if I didn't do it then, I got sorta hypnotized by that voice he's using. I slowing, almost in a trance, saunter towards Tiny, he goes, "Hurry up, Richie," so I jog over to where he's standing in the shade, and ask, "Yo,what's up, Tuck?" I'm holding a bag with two coffees, the old man's smokes, and a Danish. My other hand's in my pocket playing with myself, as I'm thinking, "Can I believe Tiny's getting me hot and I just jerked off. it couldn't be more then not four hours ago." . Tiny says, "No more bullshit, Richie! I want a firm date and time that you'll be at my god damn swimming pool. My parents work every day so we got the privacy we need. Now I know you want me to fuck you again, and I know you need tight control while I'm doing it, and I can provide both, as you know very well." He's fucking fascinating and I try paying close attention, but miss a fast move of his hand and, just like that, he's got a pinch of my ass skin between those fucking inhumanely strong fingers of his. I go, "No! Don't do that Tucker. Please don't do that pinch." "What day, Richie?" I could have said today because Mike's working all day, but with all the hot action Mike's given me tthe last eighteen hours, I'm not up for Tiny Dick's tiny dick right now. To say something, I go, "Friday, Tucker; around noon time, okay?" He gives my ass half a pinch, which is enough to get me gasping, muttering, "Nah, no... don't! Please, Tucker, I'll be there". Tucker lets go and gives me one of his sweetest smiles. I had to shake my head to clear it 'cause his quick switches from one personality to the other is unnerving. He says, in his good-guy voice. "We'll have fun Richie. You're so hot, and you're the best submissive boy for fuckin' I can even imagine; can't hardly wait for Friday." I'm kinda making a face as he adds, "I'll get us some of those great Italian subs to have for lunch!" He can be spellbinding alright, and if it weren't for my good fortune of having Mike as my sex partner I'd probably be doing everything Tiny wanted. It's weird but there something that attracts me to him, sorta light the moth to the flame. He's walking in the opposite direction from where I need to go, waving at me and giving me another awesome smile; his smile that makes me smile back at him. As I begin home I'm thinking, "Fuck! I don't have any idea what I'm going to do about Friday!" Then, like most things, I'll worry about it later. My dad took his coffee, Danish, and pack of cigarettes with him in the car heading for Atlantic City on his way to do his job as a blackjack dealer in a big casino. I sit on our front porch smoking a cigarette and drinking my coffee out of the paper take-out cup. At the convenience store I'd almost asked Tiny about him and Tony, but chickened out again. He probably has poor Tony jumping through hoops by now. I do not want to get involved with that situation for sure, but what's the harm of another pool party with Tiny? I mean if Mike's working and I got nothing better to do, and I did kinda promise Tiny I'd do it. Maybe, that's all I'm saying. Feeling lazy and contended now that's Mike back, I doze off reading the paper. The weather's broken and the extreme heat has lifted leaving the temperature about 80 degrees, with low humidity. It was a short nap and as I open my eyes I spot Robert Conti coming out of Tom Brown's house; it's the second time in the past two weeks I've seen him leave. That don't mean there hasn't been other times Roberts visited Tom so I gotta wonder what's going on? I glance inside the house and see by the kitchen clock it's almost noon. This dude, Robert Conti, is next year's junior class vice president, duly elected by the "in" crowd at school. None of my buddies voted for him, or anybody else for that matter, because we don't like any of the yin yangs that ran for office last year. Tom Brown is in with the same snobby crew as Robert, but still, what's Robert doing at Tom's place when he lives on the other side of the track, meaning the better side. And, what's wrong with his leg; he's walking funny and grimacing with each step. Robert has that stupid -looking brown pony tail that almost reaches his waist. I hate it! He's pulling all that long hair back with an elastic band as he walks, making me wonder why it was out of the elastic band in the first place. Ya don't suppose Tom's giving out free spankings and he's finally found a 'spanky boy', as Tom puts it, that actually is into that BDSM stuff. Hmmmm? Should I go down and knock on Tom's door and ask him why the junior class vice president is limping our of his house this morning? Maybe not! I drink some more coffee even though, by now, it's stone cold. My curiosity is really getting the best of me as I stare down a few doors at Tom Brown's place. What goes on down there? I know his mother works crazy hours so it's likely she's not home. Then I start thinking about the way Tom sucked my cock and I get all jittery. Do I have the balls to go down there, or not? I'm getting some stiffening in my dick thinking about that spanking experience I had with Tom. He said I'd have to asked real nicely for another spanking, or he wouldn't be bothered with the rest of it. Is it really possible to climax from being spanked? Damn, how does Tom Brown know so much about kinky stuff" I'm getting that real nervous feeling in my stomach, like I'm going to do something stupid. The massage and tender care after the spanking really got me going when Tom did it to me that one time, and was the spanking part really all that bad? Yeah, I think it was pretty bad, but I'm right back to thinking about Tom blowing me. Oh my God that was hot! I'm definitely over-sexed as I've often confessed to, but there was zero sex in my life before Mike turned on my sex-engine last year. Since then I can't even idle, it's got to be 100 miles per hour. I now doing some serious playing with myself, and my boner's feeling very good. Fuck it, you're only young once, I'm going to do it. Inside I put my empty coffee container in the trash with a shaky hand, because I'm nervous. As I'm remembering it more clearly, the spanking part had me crying like a little kid last time, but Tom made it "all better" in the end. A nervous chuckle 'cause I can't believe I have the nerve to do this. How, exactly, do I ask Tom for the spanking? Well, obviously in a very polite way; he was very specific about me being serious with everything. No goofing with it, a sincere, polite, and what the hell, humble approach is the way to go. Jeez, should I wank off again before going down there? My balls are starting to ache a little so maybe I should, but no; I want to experience that spontaneous climax again. I know one thing to do though, I know to turn over a clean body to Tom, that's for sure, and that includes a wicked clean asshole. During my long shower I use all my will power not to jerk, then dry off and put on a tank top and jogging shorts, that's all. Slipping into sandals I head out my front door with a nervous, scary feeling in the pit of my stomach. I'm going to be very serious and play the part Tom envisioned for me last time. What the hell, I did it once; oh boy, here we go. Then, right outside my door I catch a glimpse of Tom Brown driving off with another kid in his mother's Mini Cooper convertible. I'm kinda in a daze, thinking, "What a hot looking car, top down and the music blasting!" Then coming back to reality, I'm like, shit... now what am I going to do? I took that shower for nothing, and right after that stupid thought a feeling of relief came over me. What the fuck was I thinking?!. Shaking my head at my lack of willpower, I begin walking to the boardwalk. It's been awhile since I've made this long walk, a walk I did most of that first summer, but now it doesn't seem very appealing so I go back to the house and start calling the guys to see if any of them can pick me up. Tony has his brother's old Chevy and he's headed out on an errant for that very same brother. He has to drive to Atlantic City and pick-up a part for his brother's Apple computer and wants me to go along for the ride. I say, "Sure". Fifteen minutes later he blows the car's horn and I run out to get in the shotgun seat, "Dude!" we say to each other, and I notice right away that the stud is back in Tony's bottom lip and, to me, it still looks like it has to be hurting him. As we're driving down the Garden State thruway, I'm thinking about one thing, "Damn, I can't wait to see Mike later this afternoon..." Tony's talking a mile a minute, as usual, and when I pay attention to what he's saying I recognized his rant about people driving while talking on their cell phones. "Richie, watch this, I'll bet that silly old bitch will not give a turn signal, watch, Richie. See, there she goes turning but no turn signal because her hands are occupied: one on the steering wheel, the other holding her fucking cell phone! There really oughta..." I stopped listening to him and get this great idea to somehow insinuate Tiny Dick into a conversation with Tony; my objective is to see if I can get some inside scoop about what's been going on with those two. After all, I did see Tony sucking Tiny Dick's dick way back in the school year, but what's been happening since then? And maybe I can find out if Tony knows what Mike and Tiny did with each other when Tiny first joined our gang. I'll make this a worthwhile gossip trip and find out the skinny on who's doing what to who. How to sneak it into the conversation though? Hmmmm? I don't want to be obvious so I'll need to pretend like it's not really of any particular interest to me, but merely conversation and then I notice Tony's saying something to me, and I go, "What's that?" He's like, "I asked if you and Mike are messin' around with queer stuff. Tiny says you are... are you, Richie?" I turn my head and stare at the side of Tony's face, my mouth open slightly, and then mutter, "What'd ya say about Tiny? He's queer?" to be continued..... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com