DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR
Chapter 10
by Donny Mumford
Maybe I'm overreacting to this: My supervisor, Alan Snyder, wants me to try on new employee uniforms and he's ordered me to strip to my undies, like he's doing. It doesn't need to be anymore significant than that: take off my shirt and try on the uniform shirt. Simple! I'm debating this in my head as Alan looks up, and says, "Come on, Newman, get those clothes off!" I do a fake cough, muttering, "Right away, Mr. Snyder," pulling my sweatshirt over my head, then my undershirt. He's taking his pants off now, so I follow his example and soon we're both standing under the bright lights wearing our underpants and socks... both of us are wearing jockey tightie/whities. Alan's got on black socks, mine are white. Feeling foolish, my lips parted slightly and my shoulder slumped, I cross my arms over my chest and stare at Alan who's bent over lifting some shirts from one of the boxes. Like his hairy legs, his chest and the top half of his back are covered in curly, soft-looking black hairs. Not bristly hairs like they'll probably be when he's an old man, but bright, youthful looking hairs... just an awful lot of them. I'd be self conscious if I had that much hair on my body, but Alan seems unconcerned about it. He's my height, but stocky and strong looking. Not bulging muscles, but solid looking arms and legs, firm torso. Guess I'd have to say he's got an extremely mature body for a twenty-one year old... probably the most mature body I've ever seen. As he bends over his ass pokes back at me and I unconsciously drop an arm down to adjust my package and gulp quietly. The hairs on the back of his thighs extend up under his jockey shorts onto his buttocks area, and the thought of that hot-looking ass covered in hair makes me swallow, noisily. Hearing me swallow Alan glances back and catches me with my hand on my crotch. He makes a disapproving face, then nods his head as if he's confirming something in his head, then turns back to the box again. He initially showed disapproval, but then quickly lightened-up and chuckled... I don't know what the fuck to make of it. It's probably best if I keep my hands away from myself so, watching Alan hang shirts on hangers, I clasp my hands behind my back. Something about the ridiculously conscientious manner in which he handles the clothing appeals to me... like he trustworthy or something. First a small size shirt is meticulously centered on a hanger, then a medium size one is hung exactly the same distance from the small size as the large shirt is from the medium one. When twelve shirts are hung on hangers, Alan adjust a few so that they're the correct distance apart, then he takes a clothe measuring tape from his neatly folder pants on a chair, saying to me, "Let me get some measurements from you so I'll know what we're working with here." I nod my head while trying hard not to stare at his hairy body, and finally settle for staring at a spot over his left shoulder.
Up close to me, Alan's breathes through his nose noisily, like he has a sinus condition; this close to him I feel the heat from his nearly naked body and without thinking about it I hold my breath. He's using the measuring tape to measure my neck and the hairs on the back of his fingers tickle under my chin. Squinting his eyes, Alan mumbles, "I left my damn glasses downstairs, can't make out the numbers on the tape measure." His breath, as it floats off my face, smells like a grilled cheese sandwich. Attempting to read the numbers on the measuring tape his head almost touches mine, his beard brushes against my cheek, and it's a weird feeling, although not particularly unpleasant as I think it would be if it were anyone except Alan. I've no idea why his masculine appearance is appealing to me. "Chin up!' he growls, and now I'm aware of something new: with his clothes off I'm detecting the faint odor of B.O. from Alan's underarms. This is by no means the only time I've noticed his body odor, and while I use the word "odor", it's not like it's a cloying or a especially offensive smell... to me it's more a natural manly odor and my cock moves from the left side of my underpants to the middle, feeling heavy. The more his whiskers rub against my face the more I'm getting into the feel of them. Taking advantage of this rare opportunity, I subtly lean my head towards the side of his face and we touch, skin to skin, for an instant, which for some reason reminds me I've been holding my breath and I begin letting out a long exhale puffing the fine hairs in his beard away from my mouth. His head abruptly comes up, bumping against my face again, as he says, "Fourteen inches, I think," he sounds out of breath when he adds, "Does that sound right to you?" I go, "Huh? Oh, yeah, I think... no, I mean, yes... I'm sure my dress shirt has a fourteen inch collar. Not that I have all that many dress shirts, mostly just a blue one and......" and my voice gets lower and lower, trailing off, as I realize I'm babbling. Alan glances at me, frowns, then says, "Let's check your waist now," and as he reaches around me, an arm on each side, his long bushy head hair sweeps against my chin and as I inhale some hairs tickle the inside of my nostrils. His hair has a neutral smell. As he leans down further his hair engulfs my jaw as his beard, at the same time, brushes against my bare chest and the hairs on his arms tickle my sides. His arms encircle me and I'm encased in various type of Alan's hair; when I inhale this time I get a good whiff of his body odor with his armpits close to my body and it causes me to gulp and swallow with a hiccuping sound. Alan looks up at me with the same frowning expression on his face he had a minute ago, and he says, "I know, this is close work, but hold still, Dylan. Try to control your emotions, we're almost done the measurements." He definitely gave my body a hug, then straightens up and notes my waist size on a chart. Looking up, and over to me, he sees me staring at him holding my crotch again, my dick feels full and it's pushing out the front of my jockey shorts. He gives me a smug, knowing look, then kneels in front of me to measure my inseam. Pressing his thumb against the side of my balls, then pushing tighter against my balls and moving my scrotum sideways making me gulp, then I go back to holding my breath. The hairs on the back of his fingers tickles the inside of my left thigh and I go up on my toes a little with Alan calmly saying, "I know, I know, but go easy, son... you're doing fine." I'm letting my breath out slowly, and as he takes his hand away from my crotch the back of it firmly rubs against the head of my dick until he's pushing my cock to the other side of my underwear. I try thinking of being naked in a tub of cold water, but my cock still firms up anyway and is now very noticeably pushing out the front of my jockey shorts. Fuck!!
Glancing at my distended jockey shorts, then meeting my eyes, Alan speaks confidently, "Don't be embarrassed, it's okay... I know how you feel about me," and then he incongruously pats my cheek like I'm a five year old. My face blushes and gets hot as I do another fake cough. Alan's nods his head, grinning, before saying, "Now you measure me, Dylan," handing me the tape measure. My hand shakily takes the measuring tape from Alan as my cheeks puff out letting the air in my lungs escape again, without making a lot of noise this time. I tentatively reach around his thick neck feeling his whiskers all over my wrists, then my forearms. For some stupid reason I've put the tape measure around his neck in such a way I need to get the side of my face right next to his in order to look almost behind him to read the measurement. My lips ruffle his beard whiskers as I mumble, "It looks like seventeen and a half." Alan moves his head causing his nose to rub against my cheek, some of his beard is between my lips now and I close my eyes as my cock gets harder. I'm frozen in that position until Alan says, "Check it again." As he says it his ruby-red, bow-shaped lips, which look redder-than-red surrounded by all those black whiskers, brushes against my forehead just above my eyebrows, leaving some dampness there and I need to reach down to adjust my dick which is getting heavier by the second. Taking the second measurement I don't even try to avoid his face, whiskers, nose, lips, whatever... my face presses against his as I recheck the measurement, and this time Alan's hands hold my hips as I lean into him. Breathlessly, I go, "Yep, seventeen and a half," and he backs away from me, saying, "Jot that down next to where I put your measurement." Feeling slightly dizzy, I carefully write down his neck size across from his incredibly neat notations of my measurements. He says, "Good, now my waist which I thing is thirty-six inches. I nod my head looking at his hairy torso; then, with the side of my face against his hairy chest, I reach around his stocky waist. My left hand is holding one end of the measuring tape at the middle of his back as I reach around with my other hand to extend the trailing part of the tape. If this isn't the stupidest way to measure someone's waist I can't imagine what is but I've never done this before.
Our bodies have been rubbing against each other so often my now I don't even give a shit anymore. I'm basically leaning against his chest as his hands go to my back for a rub, then a nice reassuring squeeze on both my shoulders. His hands have puffy palms, very smooth, but they feel strong at the same time and I like the feel of them, and actually wish he'd rub my back some more. Managing to quietly say, "Yep, thirty-six inches," then gulping some air. He goes, "Uh huh," as he's casually fluffing my short hair back on my head, then he says, "Check my inseam now, Dylan; it should be about the same as yours." My breathing has been a problem right from the beginning of this exercise and now I'm puffing little bursts of air between puckered lips, trying to do it silently. My face still feels hot as I'm reaching up near his crotch where his body hair is the thickest. My thumb and forefinger disappear into the long thick curly hair and I nudge his right nut, which feels heavy and large. "You're not at the top of my thigh yet, push up to where my leg meets my crotch, Dylan... push up higher, let's get this right!" Taking a deep breath, I push the end of the measuring tape further into his crotch hair, my fingers mostly disappear into the hairs before I feel where the beginning of his scrotum meets the top of his thigh. "You got it now, Dylan," Alan says, as he shifts his stance forcing the side of my hand against his cock and balls, and making me grunt, "Oh!" as I drop the measuring tape. Alan calmly says, "It's okay, I know you're nervous, you're doing fine... try it again." I do the fake cough a couple of more times, then do the measurement aggressively this time, the side of my hand moving his big cock and balls to the side as he rubs my shoulders and squeezes the back of my neck, mumbling, "Good, you're doing good." I'm on my knees in front of him trying to catch my breath again, and when I do, I take my fingers from what amounts to his pubic bush, and say, "It's thirty-four inches; just like you thought." I'm looking up at him now and all I can see is that big manly body covered with fur, the bulge in his jockey shorts looks huge from my position, especially when compared to mine. This is a different kind of turn-on than I've ever experienced before except maybe the Marine, but he was very domineering and Alan isn't. He says, "Well, write it down then," and he smiles at me sweetly. Feeling like a little kid, I stand-up realizing I'm becoming sexually aroused.
I mean, we are almost fucking naked, ya know... and Alan's body is so much different from what I'm used to and I'm intrigued by how different it is. I'm not saying it's better... not at all, it's a different kind of sexy though, that's for sure. Now he's got one of his big hands squeezing the back of my neck again, asking, "You okay, son?" I mumble, "Yes, Mr. Snyder," and he's rocking me back and forth a little, adding, "Okay then, time for you to try some of these things on... the small shirt first." Nodding my head like a bobblehead doll, I bump into his hairy body as I stumble over my own feet reaching over for the shirt on a hanger. Alan smiles, muttering, "Oh boy, you got it bad, don't ya?" I'm confused, so I just do my dumb, "Huh?" routine.
The small size shirt turns out to be too big for me, but not by much... the medium one is huge on me, but actually fits stocky Alan. The large and extra large shirts are way too big for even him. He makes notes indicating we need some extra-small shirts because these button down shirts run larger than normal sizing. Alan explains that the shirts are made under the Polo label and Polo clothing always runs big. We stand together at the counter to go over a list of male employees, estimating the size for each. There are very few employees who we guess will need large, and only the fish monger needs the extra large. Alan puts his hairy arm across my shoulders while looking into my eyes, saying, "This is easy work... right?" I go, "Heh heh, yeah it's, ya know... not heavy lifting." Alan chuckles, then says, "Hey, you can relax with me, Dylan... I'm not the president of the company or something." I go, "Heh heh, I'm fine, Mr. Snyder." We do the men's khaki pants, then I try on the bib/apron thingie as Alan's making all kinds of notations. Finally, he goes, "Okay, let's do the lady's outfit now. Blouse, skirt and slacks, purple pantyhose and the same bib or apron as the guys." He holds the blouses and skirts out saying, "Here, try these on." I frown, thinking he's kidding; he says, "It's weird, I know, but try them on... do it for me, Dylan. I can't very well get down to my underpants with a female employee, now can I?" Shrugging at that logic, I put on the blouse and Alan fusses over me pulling on the blouse here and there, then off comes the blouse. I step into one of the skirts, Alan pulls it up, then feels all over my ass, without commenting. Then, his fingers go inside the waistband so he can run his hand around my body with his fingers sinking deeper into the waistband as he goes. The back of his hand is covered with hairs that tickle my belly, especially my bellybutton which makes me move, wiggling my ass. When his hands around in back he cups my buttocks, asking, "Is the skirt too tight on your bumper?" I cough, and say, "A little." With his free hand he makes a notation mumbling, "Some of the ladies have a lot bigger ass than yours, so we better mention this. When his fingers are around in front again they're so far down the waistband of the skirt they're pressing at the top of my stiffening cock.
Done with the skirts, the lady's slacks go on next: only the medium and large sizes fit me. When I'm wearing the medium lady's slacks Alan stands at my side and grips my crotch with one hand and my ass with the other as I blow air out through an 'O' I'm making with my lips. Tightening his grip, he asks, "Is there enough room in these areas... whaddaya think?" I can hardly grunt out, "It's okay, I think." He mutters, "Doesn't feel very roomy." He grips and re-grips my buttocks and crotch tighter now and my hands automatically grab onto his right wrist, the long arm hair there cover my fingers... there's lots of strength in his wrist as the tendons tighten and loosen with his massaging of my ass and private parts. At my crotch, his fist has captured my balls and the top part of my cock, which is quite hard by now. My hands slide back and forth in his arm-hair, up from his wrists to his forearm, and back... long, curly, black arm-hair. Staring at Alan's adult face, I'm now in kind of a trance, which isn't all that unusual for me. He catches my eye and abruptly lets go of my ass and, giving a final squeeze of my privates, he lets go of them too and begins writing notes about the roominess of the crotch and ass areas, then says, "Take the slacks off and drop your underpants so you can try on the pantyhose... they're the last thing we need to evaluate." I give him a dumb, deer-in-the-headlights stare, and he says, "It's only us guys, Dylan, drop your drawers," but I can't make myself move, so he adds, "I'll turn my back, okay?" and when he does I quickly drop my jockey shorts and pull on a pair of pantyhose. "Can I turn around now?" Alan asks. I feel so stupid with my hard cock and balls bulging out the crotch, as I mutter, "Uh huh." Alan turns around and, glancing at my crotch bulge, frowns, then walks over and gently grasps my package in his amazingly large hand, and it's so much more personal than when he did it with me wearing jockey shorts; it's almost like there's nothing between his hand and my cock when only the almost translucent thin fabric of the pantyhose separates his hand and me. With a nice tight hold on my cock and balls, Alan mumbles, "Ya know, son... I think one size fits all for the pantyhose," and he lets go of me to rummage though the carton looking for another size. He finally mutters, "Nope, it's just those... one size fits all, I'm right." Turning around then, he casually pinches the pantyhose at either side of my waist and pulls them down exposing my stiff pecker and buzzing nuts. "Here, step out of these, Dylan, and I'll note there's only one size on the form." My cock and balls swing free in the air, I gasp for about the tenth time in ten minutes, as Alan notices my shaved pubic area. Moving his hand as if to touch my shaved area, then pulling back, he asks, "Why do you shave your pubic bush? It's basically the only hair on your body... besides your head." I'm blushing a dark red as I quietly say, "I don't know... just for the hell of it, I guess." Shaking his head like he's disappointed, he looks closely, leaning down... my face feels so hot it might burst out in flames, then he drops the subject and moves to the counter with me covering my groin area with my hands. Alan's between me and my jockey shorts so I stand here bare-ass naked taking deep, silent breaths. I'm embarrassed but I can't lie to myself... I'm getting wickedly aroused by being naked in Alan's presents. It's crazy and I don't freakin' understand it at all, but there it is just the same. The head of my stiff dick pulsates as my balls buzz and tingle.
After doing his notations, Alan drops the pantyhose back in the box and bends down to double check that we've dealt with all the clothing we need to. Standing naked behind him with my hands covering my privates I feel like a little kid holding his pee pee so he doesn't pee himself. My cock is stiff as I stare at Alan's sturdy body, the churning in my balls is drifting up to my stomach as my shoulders shudder as I'm making a gasping sound trying to catch my breath. The noise I'm making has Alan standing up and turning around to look at me with a questioning expression on his face. I can't stop myself from glancing at the over-full crotch of his jockey shorts, so much bigger than mine. Plus, I'm fascinated by the amount of hair coming up from his groin area and the way it continues up covering his stomach, and then every inch of his chest... just amazing. Realizing I'm gawking at him, I look up quickly, my mouth parted, a guilty expression on my face; I say, "Um, wha...?" Alan's rosy red bow lips break out in a grin, then he puts a compassionate expression on his face stepping over to me and again putting a hairy arm across my thin shoulders, then squeezing me into his side a little, causing my entire body to shudder. He quietly says, "It's alright. I already told you I used to be like you; that is, until a much older adult took me under his wing and taught me a lot of things." I'm absolutely still, my hands continuing to cover my privates as Alan moves in front of me now and embraces me against his hairy body with both arms. Our bodies touching from the sides of our feet to the sides of our faces and it feels like I'm against a hard surface that's covered in an angora sweater. It's a silky smooth surface with whiffs of body odor whenever Alan moves his arms. My hands are still covering my dick, but now that I'm against Alan, encased in his arms, my dick is growing from stiff to a hard boner and there isn't anything in the world I can do about it. Once more, my face gets dark red and hot with embarrassment as Alan squeezes my buttocks with both hands pressing me against his surprisingly comfortable body. "Just relax, Dylan. I'm pretty sure you've been fantasizing about me holding you like this... hey, did ya ever dream it could really happen? Well, I had my dream come true with Franklin and now I'm going to let some of your dreams come true too." Wow, is he sure of himself, or what? This whole thing reminds me of a number of similar situations I've found myself in the past year or two; the big difference being, this time I brought it on myself... I'm to blame.
His hand are on my buttocks again and this time he's spreading my ass cheeks which is stretching my anus sideways, then stretching it vertically. Doing this silently for maybe fifteen seconds he's can see I'm not resisting, so he asks, "Feel good against my body, Dylan?" I go, "Huh?" and he says, "I ask if you feel good against me... a manly body is many a gay boy's dream. My mentor took it very slowly with me... I was even shyer than you are, believe it or not. I idolized Franklin the same way you idolize me, and now I get to see it all from both ends." The tip of a finger is rubbing my hole, he's basically holding me against him with just pressure from his biceps on my back, as both his hands play with my ass. Alan moves his head smearing his beard over the side of my face, as he asks, "Are you wearing some sort of cologne? You have a nice scent, and a nice taut little body too." His nose again rubs across my cheek, his curly soft whiskers covering half my face. A big inhale from Alan, then he says, "Oh yeah, my mentor helped me, and I'm passing it forward to you." With that he nuzzles the side of his face against the front of mine, my nose completely buries in his whiskers, as he inhales again, saying, "Anything you don't like, just say 'no' and I'll stop immediately" His finger presses directly on my anus, but I can't make myself say 'no'. Kissing the side of my face leaves a smear of saliva, after which he says, "Don't make too much of that kiss, and don't take offense either, but you're not the type I'm attracted to... you're too, well, too girlie-looking for me. You're pretty is what you are, but I'm going to mentor you anyway. Hell, maybe I'll even get stuck on you... wouldn't that be something, but don't get your hopes up too much where that's concerned 'cause I'm into men, not boys," and the tip of a finger goes inside my ass now, and then pushes up an inch or so. "This is just an introduction, Dylan. I wouldn't consider anal intercourse with you this early in our relationship, and certainly not without a condom. I can only imagine how you've always wondered what it feels like to have a part of another man's body up your butt... well, like I said, this is just an introduction, a sample for you to fantasize about later."
I lay against him, not even hating on myself. I mean, hating on myself for not saying 'no'... this is a new experience that's kind of hot and exciting. It a big factor that I'm not afraid of Alan in the least, and that's even though he's much stronger than me... I'm not concerned he'll do me harm 'cause he isn't the type. In my opinion he truly thinks he's helping me and so, as weird as it may seem, I've apparently got myself another mentor. It's funny too because there's a real chance I know more about gay sex, and have participated in more of it, than Alan, my latest mentor. From the way he talks to me he obviously thinks I'm a virgin. This situation requires some thought. Guess I could just come out and tell him I'm a practicing homosexual, and that I've had a boyfriend for a long time. In other words, I don't need in a mentoring program, thank you very much. Yeah, but that might humiliate him. He might get wicked embarrassed realizing how badly he's misread this situation. I mean, any type of normal person would be mortified to learn how off base they'd been. Fact is, I could actually mock the shit out of him, but I'm not going to do that for a few reasons. For one thing, he's a bit of a geek but not a bad person, and I think he's uniquely sexy. Lets just say he's not too smart, but he's a working man doing no one any harm that I know of, and the bottom line is: if I embarrassed him I might lose my job. Don't think not wanting to embarrass Alan is all about just saving my job though; I'm also intrigued about how's it feel to get sexy with a man's man. Alan's nothing like my baby-face, cute boyfriends who, by the way, I wish I could be with forever! This is different though and I need to think about how to handle it, but for now I should just whimper the word 'no' and get out of here. I have no doubt Alan will immediately stop touching me if I say the word. Instead, a moan slips out of my mouth and Alan pushes his finger up my ass a little further, "Tell me if I'm hurting you, Dylan... am I?" Now he has a hand behind my head pressing my face against his shoulder, which is as hairy as the rest of him; I shake my head 'no' one time, meaning he isn't hurting me and he pushes his finger a good two inches more up my tunnel making me buck my hips and go up on my toes. By now my cock is boned-up about as hard as it can get... it's bumping against his large, soft cock and balls at the moment. To me it's a big surprise Alan's still flaccid; I guess he's telling the truth about me not being his type. Wouldn't it be amazing if he actually is doing this strictly to help me, that he isn't getting much out of it at all? Yeah, it would, but somehow that just doesn't compute.
Alan's finger fucking me steadily now and my cock's a wooden pole that's pointing straight up, squished between our bellies; my bare one, and his bed of silky hairs. "Turn around now, Dylan, and I'll relieve you of your pent-up desires." Not sure at all about what he's going to do next, I do as he says and as I turn his finger comes out of my asshole making me go, "Oooh! Ahhh... oh!" Alan pulls my back against his chest and reaches around my side to take my boner in his fist. His soft pillow-like hands encase my cock and he slowly begins stroking the foreskin on and off the head of my cock, saying, "It was my second year with Stop & Shop when I got that wicked crush on my man, Franklin, who was the produce manager and who I'm still with. He wasn't good looking particularly, but he handled himself in a way I admired." As he speaks he strokes my sensitive boner and I need to bite my bottom lip to keep from moaning with pleasure. Alan continues reciting his story, "Oh my God, did I have fantasizes about him, as I'm sure you're having about me." I'm barely listening to him, half wanting to get away from here while the other half of me is enjoying myself because it feels good. It's all so strange, yet safe, so I still can't work-up the word 'no' which will set me free. The side of my face is resting against the side of his, whiskers in my ear and at the corner of my mouth, a few tickle the inside of my right nostril when I inhale. His body odor's stronger now so I'm more or less immersed in Mr. Snyder's world, and for the time being that's okay. Alan stops stroking my boner, but keeps his fist around it, to asks again, "You do have fantasizes about me, don't you, Dylan?" Actually I have had them, but I never in a million years expected them to materialize; for one thing, I thought Alan was 100% hetero. I mumble, "Well, um... I guess a few, Mr. Snyder." He asks, "Does what I'm doing feel good to you?" I quietly answer, "Yes, it does, Mr. Snyder," and I incongruously wonder, "Being this intimate with me, wouldn't ya think he'd tell me to call him Alan?"
He begins stoking my cock again, but in a rather slow lazy manner that soon has me struggling not to hump my hips, but I give up on that and begin making quiet, whining grunts while thrusting my hips forward into his hand. He gets his hairy free arm under my chin, around the front of my neck, and then one of his legs moves between mine and spreads my legs apart so I have little leverage and my humping is less effective, as he mutters, "Easy, just relax and let your idol bring you off." I'm really getting stressed to cum, so much so I can almost ignore that 'idol' comment, but how geeky is that... him calling himself my idol? I'm soon mumbling, "Mr. Snyder.. I, I need... can you do it faster?" He does it slower nuzzling his bearded face against mine and it's all of a sudden obvious to me... this is the familiar dominance ploy. He may not even realize what he's doing, but it's the old sub/dom thing all over again and while it's becoming very frustrating, at the same time it adds to my excitement and increases my need to climax, so now I'm huffing out my breathing, bouncing back against Alan as he tightens his hold on me with his arm and leg. "Please, Mr. Snyder... I need to cum... you've got me so hot I gotta cum... just a little faster..." He stops all together, and asks, "Have you ever fantasized me sucking you off?" and as he says it he plays with my aching boner, bouncing it off my tight belly. I've never had specific fantasizes of Alan, just a general one of him and his hairy body dominating my ass in some manner, which he's doing right now for sure. The thing is I want to cum so badly, I lie and say, "Um, yes, I'm embarrassed to say it, but I do have that fantasy," and even as I say it I know I'm getting myself in this fraudulent situation deeper and deeper. He goes, "Well, I'm gonna make that dream come true, but first you should at least get to feel a real man's penis... there's so many things I need to mentor you on." He backs away from my buttocks a little letting go of my throbbing boner, and says, "Reach behind you and get your hand into my underpants." Desperate to climax, I do as he says and immediately my hand is past his waistband, immersed in pubic hair. Reaching down I get my fist around a very fat cock, and Alan says, "Drag your fist down the shaft and feel the manly head of my penis." I do as I'm told realizing that this piece of meat is fairly hard, so he is getting stimulated sexually with our rather pedestrian sex play. The head is very large, but the shaft's not even as long as mine; I'd guess his to be a fat five inches, but like I said, an enormous bulb at the end. Alan says, "Are you excited to think about that inside you?" I mumble, "I guess..." and, as he's picking me up, he says, "Okay, let me get you on the counter." He picks me up without much effort, and lays me on my back. All the paperwork he's been working on is under me sticking to my back and ass.
Alan plays with my boner which has lost some of it's rigidness, as he explains, "I've known I'm a homosexual since I was twelve years old, but like you, never did a single homosexual act until my mentor taught me what a beautiful thing gay sex is. Being gay is something you're born with and he was able to show me how to fully enjoy my uniqueness." Then he leans over and takes my whole six inches in his mouth to begin an awesome blow-job with his finger between my legs working up my ass again. My orgasm came on me at the two minute mark; it came on hot and heavy... with a loud groan from me, and a contraction of every muscle in my body I forced out a long stream of cum down his throat. I have both hands in his longish hair grabbing fistfuls of it yelping and calling out, "Ahh yes, Mr. Snyder yes, yes," as I'm flopping up off the counter having an awesome climax that seems to go on and on. He sucked down every drop of spunk leaving my cock clean of cum but dripping with his saliva. Finished, he licks his lips while adjusting his crotch, then pats me on the cheek, and says, "Nice dick, your sperm taste like cotton candy." I'm still shuddering from the climax as he helps me off the counter, and matter-of-factly says, "Get dressed now, put your sweatshirt back on too, and we'll go outside for another cigarette. You did a good job with the sizing, Dylan, so you earned this extra 'break'. Both of us are getting dressed as Alan says, "Well, I'm waiting, what do you have to say to me?" I know what he expects and it came right out, "Thank you for everything, Mr. Snyder." He says, "Oh you can do better than that," holding open his arms, so I step inside for a hug, and try again, "I really, really appreciate you mentoring me, Mr. Synder," and he says, "That's more like it. I can't help you further during most of the shifts you're on, but we'll work something out. Trust me, I won't let you down." We get dressed in silence and then I follow him down the steps and across the floor to the automatic doors, and then outside. All the way I'm wondering if anyone can tell something really weird has just happened between Alan and me. Weirdly, it seems to me part-timers are sneaking glances over at us as we're walking towards the front door... could I be just one of many boys Alan's mentoring?
Outside, around the corner of the building, Alan again offers me a Winston 100, and when I take it he lights both our cigarettes. I'm leaning forward for my light and his forehead bumps mine... the thought enters my mind that he could easily light his whiskers on fire if he isn't careful. Backing up and taking a big drag from his cigarette, Alan lets the smoke drift from his nose and mouth as he says, "I'm gonna need to know something about you in order to mentor you properly," and all I can think of is Carl Denton and how he started out wanting only to help me, but how it turned into something different by the time we were done with each other. I wonder what it is about me that makes guys want to mentor me? I nod my head, inhaling some smoke and Alan puts the side of his index finger under my chin raising my head; then, as I open my eyes wide and stare into his eyes, wondering, "What the fuck!" he says, "You need to pay closer attention to me, Dylan! If I'm to invest time in you, you need to pay close attention to me," and he does a last flick up under my chin as he's saying that, which causes my dick to start firming up again. This is all so familiar to me, it's that fucking Carl Denton scenario all over again; it's truly un-fucking-believable! Yeah, but it feels comfortable too, like an old slipper, and I want to smile and say, "Okay, lets play this game for a bit... see if it's any fun." Instead I hold back the smile figuring I better stay in character 'cause I don't want to give Alan getting a reason to be suspicious about me being disingenuous with him about most of this. I meekly say, "I'm sorry, Mr. Snyder. I'll do better," and it is kind of fun except if he's on the up and up, sincerely thinking he's helping me, I'm going to hate myself for treating this like an inconsequential game. If Alan's being sincere, and is really just a sweet gay guy who's maybe not too bright, he certainly doesn't deserve to be mocked by me! But Alan having no ulterior motive seems nuts, or else he's nuts 'cause it doesn't make any sense. Well, there's also that little matter of my job, so I gotta go carefully here and, once again, I have a sense of frustrated because this is mostly my fault. I should never have started toying with Alan back when I first got the job.
Alan breaks the silence, saying, "You seem to be very naive for a nineteen year old, have you had any previous experience with sex; any kind of sex?" Keeping eye contact, and looking alert, I take this opportunity to sneak in some truthfulness, "Yes, some..." He opens his eyes wider, a look of surprise, as he says, "Yes, go on," so I mumble, "With a couple of boys I know." Alan looks more surprised, "A couple of boys?" he asks, and I nod my head, saying, "Maybe more than a couple." Alan rolls his eyes, shaking his head now, smoke pouring from his lips, then he goes, "Maybe I'm the naive one here... what have you, ah, ya know... what type of sexual acts are you familiar with?" I need to be careful here, but being this honest makes me feel less of a phony; lying by omission would have been just as bad as a bold face lie, but this is getting dangerously close to me showing-up Alan as a fool so I need to allow him to save face. I mumble, "Well, just about everything, you know... all the regular stuff, but I thought you were mentoring me about my hero worship thing with you." Right away I can tell that "hero" line was received well by Alan as he nods his head in an understanding manner. It's a relief that I'm being less deceitful by getting most of the truth out on the table. Now my only major lie is the one where I'm pretending Alan's my hero. Except for a vague fantasy about his hairy body, I've mostly thought of Alan as a dope. He's still a dope maybe, but he may be a good-hearted dope... that remains to be seen. He's looking puzzled, smoking and probably thinking things over. I'm feeling a little nervous about what conclusions he'll come to and I'm also thinking about the hairy body encounters I've just had with Alan, and comparing them to my fantasies? It's an interesting comparison, but inconclusive because I never really had a specific fantasy of Alan so I can't very well compare this real experience with vagueness. One thing I've found out: Alan's a different kind of sexy from anything I've experienced before. Is it something I'd like to explore more of though? I need to think about all that 'cause I'm really not sure how I feel about it at the moment. Alan asks, "So, you need some more guidance about your feelings towards me, is that it? You'd like to understand yourself better, experiment with an older man, do I have that right?" I gulp, and muttered, "Yes, Mr. Snyder... if you don't mind," and as I'm saying that, I realize I kinda mean it although he's hardly an older man. It'll save my job though, and I'm only going to be doing this part time job until I move back home for summer break, so it might be fun to see what it's like to mess around with macho muscular, hairy Alan. At least I'll learn something about sex and looks... can sex be as good with someone who you don't consider good looking? Especially someone sooooo different, different than I'm used to anyway... we'll see, I guess.
Apparently considering things before he speaks, he finally says, "I can't promise anything, but if you stay flexible and are ready to jump when I say jump, we may be able to experiment further. Once again, no offense, but I prefer mature men... not baby-faced boys, but I said I'll try to help you and I will try." I mumble, "Thank you," and Alan smiles and ruffles my short hair, asking, "Am I still your hero after dissing baby-faced boys like yourself?" What the fuck can I do except nod my head yes, and say, "Yes, maybe even more so 'cause you're honest and direct about things." He goes, "I'm being too hard on you actually," and he goes back to the arm around my shoulder routine. It's really quite condescending the way he does it, like he's my uncle or something. A squeeze of my shoulders while looking at my face for my reaction, like I'm gonna gush at his touch; then, with a tight hug, he adds, "You're very attractive, Dylan! I don't want you to lose anymore self confidence than you may have already lost from my mentoring honestly with you." I blow out a lot of smoke, leaning into him, and say, "You've been great, Mr. Snyder." He chuckles, clearly pleased with himself, "I remember how it was with my first 'Mr. Wonderful'... he could do no wrong. That's how you see me too... I understand," and another hug plus, I'm not positive, but I think he kissed the side of my head. I'm leaning down to take a drag off my cigarette, but it feels like a kiss on my beanie which makes me look up, too quickly perhaps, because Alan acts defensive, and says, "There are a number of things to work through with you, and affection is one of them. Kissing, making out... is this something you've fantasized doing with me?" Jesus, the things he comes out with! My dick's got a mind of it's own though and it gets firm again as I find myself nodding affirmatively to him even though I've never fantasized about that. Staring at his puffy red lips, surrounded by tightly packed curly black whiskers, I say, "Oh yes, if... I mean... I don't know." He says, "Don't let me make you nervous, I'm trying to show you I'm nobody special; I'm just a regular mature homosexual man. The fact you find me sexually irresistible is what we'll work through.
For now, you need to work through the last hour and a half of your shift, and you'll do that out here because I can't have it appear you're receiving special favors," Then he lets go of my shoulders and steps away from me.
Working out here at night sucks, but I don't say anything. Alan takes a deep breath like he's pleased with things, then steps on his cigarette, saying, "I probably won't see you again tonight, and when I see you during the next shift be sure to treat me like you always do, but for now we'll do one more little step towards getting to the bottom of your hero worship." My eyes open wide, questioningly, and he explains, "By kissing my lips you'll discover they're like anyone else's lips and not the hot exciting ones you've fantasized about kissing." Again he comes up with another preposterous assumption, but when he leans his face toward mine with his lips puckered, I lean right in and do a wet kiss with a little tongue. I do it without thinking too much about it, but Alan goes, "Ohhh... oh, okay, that was fine!" I'm licking my lips and, with my hand in my pocket, playing with myself. He says, "Once more, son... don't be shy," and this time I close my eyes and think about his sexy lips, and they are sexy. His hand comes up to cup behind my head and we do a long French kiss, his whiskers surrounding my face and if he hadn't jerked me off twenty minutes ago I might have cum in my pants. He's wrong about one thing... his lips are not like everyone else, his are sexier than most. He pulls back gasping, his face flushed, as he says, "You have had experience... that was... um. Well, okay. Goodnight now," and he's groping himself as he walks away, so I do have an affect on him after all. Then, thinking about his lips and all that beard against my face, my shoulders shudder and I need to take a big breath because his lips are sexy for real and having his whiskers all around my lips, nose and cheeks was sexy too... like pubic hairs around my face. Damn! This is new and hot.
I think about all of it during the last hour and a half of my shift. Mostly I have a semi-boner in my pants the whole time I'm out here collecting abandoned shopping carts, freezing my ass off out here in the dark. There's much to think about with this strange and unexpected Alan encounter... a bizarre experience brought on mostly by me, as I've already admitted, but it's also been unexpectedly sexy and interesting and the more I think about it the more I'm not sure I regret it. Alan may even be for real. For a while I try to feel guilty as far as Robby goes, but I just don't. It's not like I staked-out Alan devising a plan to have him help me 'come out', which is what he initially thought; well, in conjunction with me idolizing him... oh brother! If I did somehow entice him it was not done consciously! Anyway, should I mention it to Robby, or not? My first inclination is to tell him, but he says he doesn't want to discuss his so-called side sex experiences, and doesn't want to hear about mine. Aside from Rajon, which he already knows about, I haven't had any so-called sex on the side to tell him about. Okay, if Robby asks, I'll tell him about this bizarre Alan situation. He knows Alan and probably will feel sorry for me, or maybe he'll run Alan over in the parking lot, like he basically did with Joel... well, not really. No, I won't bring Alan up on my own. Then I have a thought, "I wonder if Robby's had any first hand encounters with Alan... or if he knows of someone who has???" I think I can bring that up in a causal enough way not to stir-up suspicion about why I'm asking, but with the way Robby feels about Alan's desirability, or rather the lack of it... nah, he hasn't had any experience with Alan like I just had.
Driving home after work I almost get nailed by a woman coming out of a side street onto Route 114. The overhead lights show she had her head down, undoubtedly texting, and she almost ran right into the side of Robby's pickup. I laid on that fucking horn making her look-up at the last second and hit the brakes. She can't hear me but I'm calling her a dumb cunt... then she rolls down her window and sticks her arm out giving me the finger, yelling at the top of her lungs, "Stick that horn up your ass, ya fruitcake!" then she guns the engine of that generic SUV she's driving, and lays some rubber fish-tailing by me. I didn't know an SUV could do that. At any rate she got my blood pressure way up there, I'm pissed to the max and take off after her... what the fuck, she called me a fruitcake! After three minutes of reckless driving, almost sideswiping a tractor trailer, I come back to my senses and slow down, telling myself, "Dude, you're driving Robby's pickup chasing an insane woman who probably has a shotgun under her seat... you do not want to catch her!" and I slow down even more and, as soon as I can I make a U-turn heading back to the apartment's entrance. I'm still pissed-off, but I'll just have to swallow it... that bitch got the best of me, and that's so unfair! She's totally in the wrong and yet somehow she turns it around in her mind that I'm the asshole, that I'm wrong. Life sucks sometimes...
When I get in the apartment I find Robby sleeping, but Chubby's still our carousing around doing God-only-knows-what. So not to wake Robby I use the hall bathroom to take a shower. Showering is a must 'cause there might be some random Alan-fur stuck to me and I don't need that. During the bath I again try evaluating my motives for allowing Alan to think I idolize him. Number one, obviously, is I want to keep my job. Number two, it's my fault he thinks I idolize him, and number three, he entices me. Robby and me aren't always going to be boys, we'll grow whiskers, get older and be more mature then we are now so why not see a little preview when the opportunity allows? I don't think I'm using Alan, he obviously likes being the big-shot mentor, and he's adamant that I'm not his type so it's not like it'll break his heart when it's over, like it will be at the end of the semester. Hell, I may not even work there during my sophomore year. The thing is though, Alan's not really all that old and I'd like to experiment with someone who is. Alan's twenty-one, but with the beard and long hair he looks and acts much older, so it'll be an interesting experience and I'll be open to a real "older-man" situation if one ever materializes, which I doubt will happen. And, okay, I admit that I find Alan extremely sexy, and believe me I know how crazy that is because he's kinda dumb and clueless, but he's not really an older man. Plus, there's a pretty good chance he's basically a nice guy too... if, that is, and it's a big "if", he's sincerely just mentoring me to help me and not to get in my pants.
Done with my shower, I pad around the apartment naked looking for a pair of my pajamas. That damn Chubby has a thing about wearing my stuff. I have to laugh 'cause I'm now in Chubby's bedroom, stark naked, going through his clothes looking for my pajamas and what if he and Samantha were to bop into the apartment and catch me... hee hee. Ah ha! Hidden in with his jeans is a pair of my favorite pajamas, and they're really broken in too... been washed about fifty times. The thin cotton Fatigue pajama bottoms with the matching short-sleeved T-shirt. Hee hee, he was probably planning on wearing these tonight. Scrounging through the dirty laundry I find a pair of smelly nylon pajamas that Chubby's mom gave him for Christmas last year... he hates them because he says they look like girls PJs. I fold them neatly and put them where my awesome pair were, then put my pajamas on thinking, "Why the hell wouldn't I put my PJs on before running around the apartment looking for a dirty pair for Chubby? Am I an exhibitionist now too? Nah!" just having fun pulling a dirty trick on Chubby. In my bedroom I climb into bed with Robby and get right up against him, he goes, "Um, huh... hi, Dylan," and that's it. He never actually wakes up and won't remember saying anything to me in the morning.
Damn, he's nice and warm and cuddly though, so I get him in my arms, kiss the side of his face, and go to sleep myself. Next thing I know I'm being groped, then my nostrils are pinched closed and I open my eyes a slit seeing Robby grinning down on me. He says, "Oh, I hope this didn't make you wake-up, did it?" I go, "Why no, not that... I like having my oxygen cut off; it was someone playing with my nuts that attracted my attention." Robby fakes concern, "Oh no, that made you wake-up? I was going to see how hard I could squeeze them, but took pity." He's hovering over me on his hands and knees, a knee and an arm on either side of me, the sheet and blanket looped over his shoulders; his aroma floating in the air. I inhale deeply, say, "Mmmmm..." then ask, "Did you want something?" and Robby goes, "Well, since you're up I could probably tolerate a little lolly pop sucking from you." Well, this is a nice way to start a Saturday.
Nodding "okay" at him, I shimmy down under him, between his knees, until my mouth is just below his hanging four inch cock, my legs poking out under the covers at the bottom of the bed. I reach up and stroke the foreskin on and off the head of his dick and realizing at once that Robby didn't shower again last night, is this a new trend? Not that that's a problem; he never smells bad to me, just different from time to time... it's always sexy. This current grungy odor drifting off him is very sexy and is usually the one his brother's carries around most of the time too; that's because Dodger isn't a slave to personal hygiene care like most of us are. Robby and I have been showering at least once a day, although he's been slacking off a little of late. Leaning my head up I suck his penis into my mouth and tongue it until Robby starts squirming his hips. When he reaches under the covers to play with my hair and rub my shoulders I do some full length laps of the shaft with my lips and tongue, spit dripping down my chin. His cock is fairly hard now so I bob my head up on it to push the head past my gag reflex muscle and then back out; then back in my throat, and out again. When I taste the first drops of precum, Robby gasps, "That good... okay. Get up here on your hands and knees, boy!" Ha ha, sometimes he just can't pull off the real bossy stuff; it's usually when he tries too hard, and then there are other times he acts dominant without realizing it, and that rocks my socks! Getting on my hands and knees under him, scrunching down, gets me giggling a little, anxious to feel him inside me. Robby smacks my ass, saying, "Get yourself in a ball, your chest on your thighs, your ankles under your ass," and when I do, he smacks my ass a half dozen more times. Why, I don't know; he just likes doing it, I guess. Robby spreads my ass cheeks apart now and forces his hard cock in past my sphincter muscle as I'm blowing spit into the mattress. This is so not like the way Robby normally does it. He's fucking me, laying on top of me to keep me from getting free, and slamming his cock up my ass. My muffled cries of pain soon turn silent as his precum makes it a smooth, tight ride. When the pain is replaced by pleasure, I ask, "Why'd you do that, Robby? That really pisses me off... we don't do shit like that to each other." Robby sounds sincerely confused, "Aren't I allow to punish you, I'm suppose to be the dominant one." I'm like, "What....?" and he goes, "You said what's-his-name, Wally, punished you that time you got your ear pierced." I go, "Oh, well, that.... ya know, and it's Willie, not Wally!" He mutters, "Whatever," and I go, "Yeah, I guess you're suppose to do some discipline if we're doing the sub/dom thing, but what the hell did I do?" No fucking way he can know about the weird Alan experience I had last night. He says, "You and Rajon, of course." He's fucking me nicely now, and I'm boning up nicely too. I go, "Rajon?!! What the... we, that was two weeks ago, no three... WTF?Robby?" He stops fucking me, and asks, "What do those letters stand for?" I say, "You know damn well, don't change the subject... why the spanking and dry fuck because of something we resolved weeks ago?" He says, "Maybe I'm not over it, and anyway we're not suppose to discuss our little side trips. You got punished like I'm suppose to do, now just enjoy me topping you, boy!" And, I have to laugh, he is so cute with that, I go, "Yes, sir... hee hee."
What isn't funny though is this fuck, my ass is tightening up now with every shove of Robby's fat-headed four inch boner... oh it feels awesomely good and it's massaging my prostate too. As I'm thinking that, I also unconsciously say it out loud, "Oh, Robby, it feels so good," and he gives me a couple of, "Smack! Smack!" on my bare ass increasing the erotic feelings I'm having. He's huffing and puffing now, really fucking me... every thrust moves me a inch forward on the bed until my head bumps against the headboard. My hard, dripping cock is squished between my thigh and my belly, and, with my ass raised just off the bed enough to give Robby full access to my hole, my balls churn spunk and slide on my thigh getting ready to blow. Robby's cupping my forehead with both hands now, pulling my head back and pounding his cock up my ass. I'm expecting to climax, but it turns out to be a false alarm squirt of cum as Robby grunts and blows a ton of air from his lungs as his cock explodes filling my rectum with his sperm. Then another hard thrust and more creamy teen spunk shoots up my ass even as the earlier cum is drooling out onto my buttock. Then another desperate sounding exhale of air as a third stream floods my ass and when he does a half dozen frantic humps up my spunk-filled ass I make a long, "Oooooooooo" sound and shoot a sharp string of cum up my chest and then a longer stream as I almost black-out from the overwhelming sensations running all over my body. I try a violent thrust upward to get out of this cramped position, but Robby's laying on my back, moaning, his cock still up my ass, so I can't make much progress with that; instead I roll over on my side with Robby rolling off me and his boner pulling out of me with a subtle "pop" sound as his fat cockhead breaks free of my sphincter ring. I make a quiet, "Ahhh..." and then scramble around to lie with my back against Robby's chest. His arms goes around me, and ten seconds later he slides his boner back up inside my ass as I go, "Yeeeeah, oooh god..." and Robby humps my hole for a few minutes getting both of us squirming and I'm thinking we're on our way to an awesome fifteen minute fuck ending with a second climax, but instead there's a knock on our bedroom door, and Chubby goes, "Are you two doing something naughty in there with a girl? I thought I heard a girl squeal." Robby chuckles, so I guess it was me who made a squealing sound without knowing it... hell, I thought I was going to pass out in a sea of almost unbearable erotic pleasure so, yeah, I may have squealed a little. In a high pitched girlie voice, I yell, "It's only me, Jeffrey, Samantha. The boys are taking turns with me.... " Chubby yells back, "I'm so fucking sure!!! You two couldn't find a girl's snatch with both hands and a flashlight! Come on, lets make some breakfast."
Robby and me get up and take a quick shower together. Shampooing Robby's hair, I say, "Okay, you punished me for my unfortunate situation with Rajon, which by the way, was not my fault! But, be that as it may, you were mean and punished poor little me, so now you need to make-up... it's in the rules." Robby stands under the water rinsing his hair, then says, "Well, what do you think that second fuck was? It's was a make-up fuck and I can't help it if your brother interrupts... we're made up!" But when shampooing my hair Robby puts his arm around my neck and kisses my lips and, with my eyes closed against the burn of shampoo, we have a lovers make-out of slow kisses with lots of tongue, our arms tightly around each other. Both our boners come back up as our slippery bodies rub against one another for five minutes, kissing and hugging. If I hadn't had that explosive orgasm fifteen minutes ago, I'd have had one of those spontaneous orgasms. Robby's love for me is almost visible and it's such a comforting and wonderful thing to be a part of. He's always claimed that as much as I love him, and I love him to death, he loves me more... and what a fabulous looking boy he is too, so I'm feeling lucky and fine. My hair gets rinsed during our make-out and my eyes open to confirm his boyish beauty, all wet and shiny. His head pulls back with a smile on his lips and love shining from his eyes and it brings tears to my eyes, and I need to close them and put my head against his shoulder. He wraps my head in his arms, murmuring, "I know, Dylan, I know... me too..." We finish our shower quickly, exchanging goofy facial expressions because we both know we got too emotional there for a minute, embarrassing ourselves... we may be gay, but we're not feminine!
Dressed and shiny clean we bop into the kitchen where Chubby's making home fries with some green pepper and onions. I give him a kiss on the cheek, he looks up at Robby, then asks me, "Where's Sam, still in the shower?" I say, "Don't flatter yourself! Robby and me wouldn't waste our time on some girl, would we Robby?" Robby pretends indignation, muttering, "I should say not!" Chubby ignores us, and asks, "Who wants to get our Dunkin' Donuts coffees, and who wants to use the juicer for fresh squeezed orange juice?" I ask, "Who made you boss?" and Chubby goes, "It's my turn," Robby says, "I'll get the coffees, that juicer is a pain in the ass." Chubby's like, "Before you go, Robby... I gotta ask you and Dylan to do me a favor." I'm like, "Fat chance... but what is it?" Chubby laughs nervously, then says, "Well, you know Samantha doesn't know you're both, um... gay as a May day, so she's asked me for a favor which I'm passing on to you two." I say, "Well, what the fuck is it?"
To be continued.........
Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com