DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR
Chapter 21
by Donny Mumford
Pedro's just left, and as I take a few moments to mull over the last couple of hours, a tiredness swarms over me, and why not; what an improbable series of events for one day! Should I have suspected Willie capable of trying to kill himself? Man, I don't see how I could have, but with all that booze he was drinking, maybe I should'a given it a thought or two. Well, actually I did suspect a possibility of it the last second or so before he jumped, but only because of my plane companion, Sandy, and his sad tale about Jersey Boy. Blowing out a lot of air between my lips, I shrug and go into the bathroom to do my business of peeing, washing-up, and brushing my teeth. While doing these routine chores I'm consciously attempting to keep my thoughts more on the recent Pedro experience than the Willie one. I gotta try to focus on the bright side of things, although I am human, and it's human nature to dwell on the bad stuff. There's some good stuff to be grateful for too... Willie's been safely sleeping in bed for a couple of hours, plus Pedro and I had an extraordinary experience together; one we both feel went really well, so that's all good. In addition to this recent aberrant nightmare with Willie, there have been other harrowing experiences in my past that I've moved on from, that horrible Joel confrontation for one, so I'll do the same with this. In the bedroom, with only the light from the moon and stars to see by, I put on clean boxers shorts and climb in bed on the opposite side to Willie, then quietly rustle under the covers... great bed they got here at the Reach Ranch Resort. I look at Willie and mumble, "Oh Willie, what were you thinking?!" He was drunk and depressed; an extremely lethal combination right there. He looks innocent and almost pretty as he sleeps, and even though I know he's not all that innocent, he is just a teenager who's trying to cope with being a teenager, and now with drastic changes in his life too; I feel sorry for him. If us teens don't stick together, we're lost; so, rolling over next to him I put my arm over his shoulder and talk quietly to him, reassuring him that everything will turn out alright. Hopefully he hears the reassurances in his subconscious mind and sleeps peacefully. Although I can just imagine the dream possibilities he may be experiencing. But then, he was so drunk perhaps he doesn't even remember diving over the balcony. NO! That's impossible. The next thing I'm aware of is bright sunshine and I lift up on an elbow to look through the balcony's floor-to-ceiling glass doors to gawk at the various shades of aqua-colored water rolling in from the Atlantic ocean. What a spectacular sight with the bright sun above, and the blue sky that seemingly goes on forever. It's seems so peaceful now; a beautiful day all the way around... a new day that I'm praying will be much, much calmer than yesterday. Actually, yesterday was really nice; the 'day' part of yesterday... it's the night part that sucked. Except, of course, the Pedro part. Dizzying, that's what it was; a dizzying and scary episode with Willie, and then a dizzying kind of magically sweet experience with Pedro. Shaking my head to clear it, I tell myself to concentrate on the here and now. Then, gently shaking Willie's shoulder, I quietly say, "Willie, wake up for a second," but I gets no response. I want to ask if I can order something from room service for him; it wouldn't be right to just walk out and head down to the beach like I'm going to do as soon as I'm sure he's okay. Another gentle shake of his shoulder and his eyes half open, then quickly close. He moans and stretches, as two tears roll down his cheeks, one for each cheek. Looking straight ahead, he mutters, "I'm sorry, Dylan... it was so... um, dumb." Can't argue with that, so I ask, "What can I get for you, Willie... orange juice or some food or... anything?" He's moving his tongue across his dry lips, then coughs and gags before putting a hand on his head, moaning, "Oooh, my head aches so much." His face is white, and I mean white like a sheet of paper. Repeating my offer, I asks, "What can I do to help you?" He says, "I can't believe you don't hate me." Obviously he's still feeling sorry for himself. I go, "You were drunk; I'd like to think you'd have my back if I ever get that stupid... now forget it, and stop feeling sorry for yourself long enough to tell me what you need." I may have been a bit snippy when I said that because more tears roll out of Willie's closed eyes, as he mumbles, "Can you forgive me?" I say, "Yes, I forgive you; now, what do you need?" "Coke, a cold coke," is his reply, so I get out of bed and take the last $4.00 can of Coke out of the mini bar and pour it into a glass. Then, setting the glass on the night stand, I get an arm under his neck and lift his head while dragging my pillow over on top of his so he's propped-up, then hold the glass to his lips and he begins slurping the cold Coke. He slurps the Coke until the glass is drained dry, then moans, "Oooh, my head hurts." Muttering, "I'll look for Tylenol in the bathroom." I pad in bare feet to do that, but can't finding anything for a headache, so call room service and ask for a bottle of Tylenol, two extra large glasses of orange juice, two regular coffees, and a big plate of scrambled eggs with dry toast. Maybe Willie can get some solid food down. He's laying back on the pillows, as weak as a kitten; his eyes are closed against the bright sunshine coming through the sliding glass doors, as he moans, "What an asshole I am..." I resist agreeing with him for the moment, and instead get a wet washcloth, the last clean one in the bathroom, to lay on his forehead. Willie goes, "Huh? Oh!" when I put it on him, then, "Nice..." I put on the same bathing suit I wore yesterday, as my mind drifts to last night with Pedro, and what an extraordinary thing that was. I mean, him choosing me to take his cherry, as he put it... and him not really knowing me at all. That's puzzling alright, but I guess it's flattering too, or is it? Adding that to the long list of mysteries of life, I go back to nursing Willie. "Ya need to go to the bathroom or anything?" He says, "Very badly, will you help me?" I say, "I'll help you get there, then you're on your own, dude." I was trying to be funny, but he just groans, then says, "Thanks." Pedro and I put him to bed naked last night; which, of course, is how he still is when I help him get out of bed. No comment about being naked from Willie, he just leans heavily on me as we make our way to the bathroom with me watching his long limp dick swinging here and there between his legs. Inside he plops his ass down on the toilet and I leave him to it, closing the door behind me. A little later I hear the toilet flush and water from the sink facet turn on, and then his Oral B battery-operated toothbrush buzzing; the same one I used brushing his teeth last night. Oh man, last night where Willie's concerned, seems a long, long time ago to me right now. After a while, he limps out of the bathroom, still looking dangerously pale, and stumbles over to the bed and gets in the closest side he comes to, which is the side I slept on last night. As I'm frowning, thinking, "What a pain in the ass this is," he collapses on top of the covers groaning about his headache. From the bathroom I can still hear the buzzing of his toothbrush so I go in and turn it off, and then pull him over to his side of the bed and tuck the cover up to his chin. Willie sighs, "Thanks." It's air-conditioned chilly in the room so I pull on a t-shirt; the sleeveless one Willie bought for me, and the cool cross necklace too. That thing's awesome, so I pull it out so that it's laying on the t-shirt... cool. Then it's out to the balcony for a smoke. Twenty minutes later a knock on the door tells me the food has arrived; fast service! Signing for the food with our room number, leaving a nice tip for the attractive middle aged lady who delivered it, I need to wake Willie again. He gulps the orange juice on his own, along with three Tylenol, but his hands are too shaky for him to get a forkful of scrambled eggs to his mouth without the scrambled eggs falling off the fork. I watch this act for a minute; then, fuck it!... in between gulps of my coffee, I feed him the entire plate of eggs, plus all the dry toast. He ate hardly anything the last two days. Willie drinks his coffee straight down and finally there's some color in his face. He burps, holds his head again, and mumbles, "Thank you, Dylan... I need to sleep some more." I go, "Good idea, I'll be on the beach; come down when you can, or I'll check-in on you in a couple of hours, okay?" He mutters something I can't make-out, but I'm satisfied he's taken care of so I put on my Oakley shades and a pair of Willie's sandals; then, grabbing my Marlboro Lights and the room key, I quietly leave the room feeling free and relaxed for the first time in about fifteen hours. In his condition there's isn't a chance Willie's going to be diving off any more balconies... well, not anytime soon anyway. Looking cool with my cross necklaces and my little hoop earring in my left earlobe, plus my new sleeveless T-shirt, which conveniently shows off my tattoo, I stroll down the corridor to the elevators feeling pretty good about myself. Waiting for the elevator I'm checking myself out in the mirror that covers one whole wall in the elevator alcove, and nod my head that everything is looking good; well, except for the fucked-up flattop haircut. It looks okay from the front, but from the side it's half a buzz cut and half a flattop. Turning sideways, this time to get a good look at my "DYLAN" tattoo, two teenage girls and their parents enter the elevator alcove catching me admiring myself. The girls exchange glances, giggling; which I observe from their reflection in the mirror, and naturally my face blushes hot and red. Fuck! All five of us get into the elevator when it arrives, and one of the girls, a cute preppy-looking thing about sixteen with bottle-red hair, mutters behind her hand to her sister, "Hot!" meaning me I assume, so I feel a little better about that. But just the same, I do a fake cough into my fist to demonstrate how little I care about what they think. In the lobby the family heads toward the restaurant and I go out the door to the tiled area, where a family with young children play shuffleboard. Looking up four stories I see our balcony, the one Willie dove over, and a chill comes over me even though it's hot out here, hotter than it was yesterday. Shaking off the scary chill, I look around and see that a lot of resort guests are already in and around the pool, so I check my wristwatch; it's ten-thirty... hmmm, I got a good nights sleep anyway. I'm interested more in the beach than the pool, but I stroll through the pool area slowly, casually scouting out the teen boys there, and actually spot two who look interesting. They both have cool short haircuts and taut bodies; one's just diving into the pool while the other one is reading a USA Today newspaper, sitting in a deck chair. He's got his legs crossed in that kinda girlie way with one knee propped on top of the other, the top leg kinda bouncing. Ahhh, I see he's wearing headphones so he's probably keeping the beat to the music he's hearing with the bouncing foot. Awesome legs on that boy, nicely shaped calves. The kid looks to be about seventeen, a nice start to my boy watching. Can't resist going out of my way to walk right next to him, but he catches me staring at him and gives me one of those pissed-off, "What the fuck are you looking at?" looks. This time, instead of quickly avoiding eye contact, like I usually do, I stare defiantly back at him and he breaks eye contact with me. Huh, nothing like a good stare-down to build-up some self confidence... ha ha. I'm feeling good. At the edge of the beach I wait for one of the beach boys to get me a beach chair like yesterday, then remember Pedro saying something about his older brother being on beach-boy duty today. Scanning the beach boys, who are all running around taking care of the resort's guests, I look for a Pedro look-a-like when, unfortunately, a man in his thirties comes over and asks me if he can get a beach chair for me. He's awfully old to be a beach boy, but the ID hanging around his neck claims he is. I mumble, "Um, I'm not ready just yet, but thank you... I'm, ah, waiting for someone." He says, "Yes, sir... when you're ready, one of us will take care of you." I nod, mumbling another thank you and scour the beach trying to get the attention of a younger beach boy... hmmm, awkward because the older so-called beach boy keeps looking over at me. Why the hell can't things go the way you want them to for once?! Damn! Then I do spot someone who resembles Pedro, but he's stockier and not nearly as perfect. He looks very young though, so I guess Pedro wasn't lying about that. Pedro told me his beach-boy brother is older than him, and Pedro's twenty, so this guy is awfully young-looking for being older than twenty. I try for eye contact, but he sees some older girls waving at him and he smiles a Pedro-like smile, then heads for the girls which leaves me standing here looking like a dork. Feeling self conscious, I turn around, miming that I forgot something, and walk back to the pool area again... things were going so well until now too. On my way past the pool, I walk by two hairy chested guys who look to be about thirty years old; they're getting their stuff settled on a table near the pool. The one with a hoop through his lower lip says to me, "Oooh, you look lost; want to join us?" and the other one pulls a chair away from the table for me to sit in. I do a theatrical look behind me, like I'm so sure he must be talking to someone else, then just shake my head and go back into the lobby. Okay, I need to be a little less self conscious and a little more confident. Everything went much smoother yesterday, but of course Willie was with me then. I hate doing new things alone! Something odd occurs to me though: those two guys who tried to pick me up are the first obvious gays I've noticed since arriving in Key West, so Willie's assertion that half the people here are gay seems a gross exaggeration. Not that it matters much one way or the other... just saying. For something to do in the lobby, I make myself a take-out cup of complimentary coffee; then, carrying it with me, head outside again. Getting to the beach I'll need to pass either the boy who I had the staring contest with, who's on one side of the pool, or the two gay guys who tried to pick me up on the other side... I choose the staring contest boy's side, and he thankfully ignores me as I pass by... the snob. At the edge of the beach again I'm determined to take whoever shows up and just get the damn beach chair and be done with it. Sipping the coffee, which is amazingly good, I try acting casual as if I know what I'm doing, and Pedro's brother comes over to ask me, "Can I set you up with a beach chair, Dylan?" This makes me try swallowing hot coffee while at the same time, asking, "How'd you know my name?" but the two things don't work together and I get into an embarrassing coughing fit, drawing a lot of attention from people around me, people who don't know how to mind their own damn business. Pedro's brother, who's name I see through teary eyes on his ID card, is Dominic Rosales. He pats my back chuckling, then asks, "You alright, dude?" Humiliated is what I am! The coughing goes on for awhile because a few drops of coffee are in my windpipe, which really sucks! Red in the face with tears rolling down my face, I finally manage to sputter, "A beach chair, yes... thanks," and off he goes, returning a minute later with towels, the beach chair, and a bottle of water, which he hands to me, "Drink some of this." I twist open the cap and gulp down some water which helps my coughing, but my self image has taken a serious beating. Gawkers around me have thankfully gone back to whatever they were doing before I put on a coughing side-show for them. I try to be inconspicuous following Dominic through the soft sand, avoiding eye contact with everyone, still doing little subtle coughs. That could have gone better! Then a thought occurs to me, "Did Pedro tell his brother about what we did last night? Is that how he knows my name? Oh jeez, 'awkward' doesn't cover it if he did..." But apparently he didn't because Dominic, while doing that maneuver with the towels covering the chair in a way so the towels don't blow away, says to me, "Pedro told me about your friend getting sick on the balcony and about the awesome tip you gave him, so he wants me to take care of you on the beach this morning. I'm at your service." My coughing-fit under control now, I say, "Thank you. Your brother, Petro, is a, um, a really hard worker. He did a great job." Dominic says, "He's a great kid. Hey, let me get you a table and an umbrella... and, oh, I'll set-up a chair for when your sick friend arrives too," and off he goes to do all that. Well, okay! This is more like it. Sitting in my chair with my feet stretched out on the towel-covered extension, holding my coffee in one hand and the water in the other, I take a second to admire the gorgeous view: pink sands, a clear blue sky with the round yellow sun doing it's thing, and the ocean with it's various shades of aqua-colored water lazily depositing endless waves onto the beach not even twenty feet away from where I'm sitting; the foamy clear water from the waves breaks on the beach to run up toward me before being drawn back to the ocean by the undertow. Add the nice breeze off the ocean and it's a perfect day in Key West, Florida. Hard to believe last night ever happened. Then Dominic's back setting up a little table between my chair and the empty one waiting for Willie. As he works the pole of the umbrella into the sand, I go to my pocket for a tip, asking, "How did you know who I was?" He grunts as he forces the pole deeper, then says, "Pedro said I should look for the best looking young man who appears at the beach today... who else could it be but you." I blush a deep red again, sputtering, "Tha, I don't think I'm, ah, that's very flattering, but you should see..." and I catch myself before babbling further. Dominic has a smirk on his handsome face as he adds, "And then there's that tattoo too," and I stupidly look at my "DYLAN" tattoo and blush again. Dammit! Dominic's smiling the same smile Pedro has, saying, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you; Pedro was quite taken with you. He's the best of all of us brothers and we love him to death. He said he told you about our Sunday tradition of reading the Bible and counting our blessings and you didn't make fun of it, so that impressed him." I go, "Huh, yeah, he's a sweet kid... I mean, ya know, a really good kid." Then, to cover up the 'sweet' comment, I do a non sequitur, "He's six months older than me, ya know?" He smiles at that, so I add, "Which, ya know, surprised me 'cause he looks so, ah, ya know... so young." Dominic laughs, "Yeah, we all do; you should see our parents. Mom looks like our sister." I mutter, "Oh," and he adds, "Well, there you are, Dylan, all set-up. Can I get you anything else?" I say, "Not now, thank you," and hand him a ten dollar bill, again saying, "Thank you!". No objection from Dominic about the size of the tip, he just puts my ten dollars in his pocket, smiling, while saying, "Thank you, that's very nice of you." He waves at me as he hurries off to help someone else. A person could go broke just from tipping people in this resort. Oh well, this is nice. No eye candy to look at, but that's okay for now... I can always think about last night with Pedro; he was awesome! After smoking a cigarette and finishing my coffee, I take out my cell phone and give Connor a call. It's Sunday so he won't be working today; he and Chubby are supposed to get together this afternoon and hang-out, so I'll see what ups with that. Connor answers sounding glad to hear from me, which makes me feel good. He says, "Dylan! Thanks for calling, I was thinking about you just a little while ago, thinking how much you helped me get through that funeral." I go, "Yeah, that was kinda a tough thing for you to go through, but I didn't do anything. You handled it great." He adds, "Because you guided me through it, that's why I managed okay... so, thanks again." I mutter, "No problem," and he's like, "Hey, Chubby's picking me up in an hour, but guess what?" To be funny, I guess something outlandish, "Ah, let me see: Chubby's decided to join the Army with you and you're both going down to the Army recruiter today to do the 'buddy program'." He laughs, mumbling, "I wish. No, he set me up with a blind date! Can you believe I need to deal with another blind date?" I go, "Oh, no!" and he adds, "Yeah, I thought Chubby and I were just gonna hang-out together... but man, it's another blind date!" I can't help but laugh a little, saying, "Oh jeez, another fucking blind date, but you're experienced now." He goes, "Whooppee! My second chance to shine for a girl," and he says 'girl' like he's referring to something like the flu. I go, "Well, dude, Chubby doesn't know you're, ah... on my team, so ta speak. He thinks he's doing you a favor." Connor mutters, "I guess," and I ask, "Who's the blind date gonna be?" He says, "Someone named, "Tootsie Jones," and I go, "Not Tootie Roll Jones, the overweight baton girl in the high school band!" He's like, "Oh no, a fatty?" and I laugh again, saying, "I just made that up; don't know anyone named Tootsie Jones, she's probably small, curvy, and cute and will be uber hot for your body." Connor chuckles, going, "God help me." He wants to know about Key West then, so I fill him in on the place, but leave out anything about Willie's unfortunate suicide attempt. Then I get him laughing his ass off recounting some of the unbelievable bad luck Willie and I have had since Thursday: the haircut fiasco, the car troubles, the misunderstanding with the car service, Mrs. Windell's terrible driving in the rain, missing our flight, and on and on. That kind of misfortune sucks when you're going through it, but makes for a funny story after the fact, and Connor really gets laughing at the exaggerated way I tell my tales of woes. No need to tell Connor the sad tale of Jersey boy because it would just bring him down. He tells me how gloomy it is at the restaurant with the owner having just died and all, but everyone is carrying on, even a smile appears on one of their faces every now and then. He confirms that Monday is definitely the day he'll enlist in the Army; he tells me he's been on the phone with the recruiter and it's agreed he'll have a delayed departure till one week after the last day of our freshman year. Connor's mother is pissed at him for "abandoning her." What a witch! After about fifteen minutes Connor tells me needs to take a shower and get ready for his blind date, so we hang up, but he seemed in a good mood when we said goodbye. I always feel good being with him, or just talking with him; he's so, I don't know, pure... sincere, honest, you know, just a really good person. It can make me sad sometimes too, sad for him. That's probably not fair to him though because he's making his way in the world the best he can; making his life as good as it can be. And I admire him for that. It does get me thinking about my life though, and how maybe I need to do some of that 'count your blessings' thing the Rosales family does every Sunday; I don't do much of that at all. Feeling melancholy now, I wander down to the water and wade around in it up to my knees while wondering about Willie and how he's doing. It's only been an hour though, so I'll wait before checking on him. Then my cell phone beeps and I take it from my pocket to see it's Chubby on the caller ID. "Bro," he says, "What are you doing right this second?" I tell him, "I'm wading in warm, beautiful, water enjoying the sunshine." He goes, "Damn! I was afraid of that; it's pouring rain here! I fixed Connor up with this hot chick and the four of us were going on a fuckin' picnic, but the rain's screwed that up; and, um, I was hoping it was raining there too." He's chuckling though so I know he's kidding me. I go, "No, it hasn't rained in days... well, make that hours." He's calling me right after the family's Sunday brunch with the moms; the one we always have together, and he just wanted to hear my voice because he misses me. I've already told him all about the troubles Willie and I have had so he knows the true story about that, and he, like Robby, sorta enjoyed me telling them about our bad luck. Jealousy, that's all it is; they're jealous! haha! I made him promise not to tell either of the moms about all the screw-ups though because they worry too much. Chubby tells me about Mary Jo's girlfriend, Tootsie: she moved away after high school, and is visiting Mary Jo during school break. Tootsie was one of the high school's in-crowd, but Chubby says she's kind of a smart-mouth, bossy type. Oh brother, that's a perfect blind date for Connor... not! Mary Jo hounded Chubby into getting a date for Tootsie and so poor Connor got recruited. Chubby insists I know this Tootsie character, but I don't. Anyway, Chubby figured why not give Connor a break and set him up with Tootsie. He thinks he's doing Connor a favor because, as Chubby says, "This babe's got a rack on her you wouldn't believe!" I go, "Yeah, I probably wouldn't," and roll my eyes; poor Connor. They're going to an afternoon movie instead of the picnic so that's a break for Connor; you're not suppose to talk during a movie, not that that ever stopped Chubby, but it's a good excuse for Connor not making small talk with Tootsie. Then Chubby tells me a funny story about him getting some agent's expense account screwed-up and how the agent went apoplectic on Chubby when the guy got a copy of the report; a duplicate copy of the one that went to his boss, Mary Jo's father. Chubby blamed his screw-up on the guy's illegible handwriting and told the guy to chill; apparently the guy's total expenses for the year were $6,789 and Chubby reported it was $16,798, so I can see why the guy would get excited. Chubby calls it sad and unfortunate that the man was never taught good penmanship in elementary school. I go, "Uh huh," and then he needs to sign-off in order to pick-up Connor and the girls. Better him than me. Tris gets on the phone after Chubby; she says hello, and tells me she missed me being at brunch with them, and tells me a little about this morning's brunch conversation which apparently centered on how much everybody misses me... awww, sweet. Then I talk to my mom for fifteen minutes telling her all about the good things about my trip, like the great suite, the beautiful view, and about me having lobster for dinner last night. Lobster and a cheeseburger, "Willie and I split it". She laughs saying, "I don't need to ask who ordered the cheeseburger, do I?" Then mom lists about fifty things I need to be careful about, and finishes by telling me she loved me like life itself, and how much she misses me. Enough to bring a tear to my eye, but it was great talking with those three and I feel a little homesick after hanging up. Nice family I have there, even though we don't read the Bible after Sunday dinner. Back at my beach chair I light another cigarette, then Dominic comes by smilingly telling me, "Smoking is so bad for you, Dylan! Why do you do it, dude?" I go, "Oh, to be cool, I guess," and he says, "It's not cool, but I came over to ask if I can get you some lunch."
Thinking about it for a second, I go, "Yeah, thanks Dominic. How about a big fat juicy cheeseburger and fries." He asks, "Something to drink?" and I go, "Hmmm, today I'm thinking a frozen strawberry daiquiri would hit the spot." He smiles his awesome smile, going, "Huh! Hey, didn't you tell me earlier that my bro, Pedro, is six months older than you? Let's see, that would make you, um, nineteen, I believe." I look offended, saying, "Dominic, I told you that two years ago, remember?" He says, "Oh, well as long as you're twenty-one, but maybe you better show me your drivers license in case my boss is watching us," so I fish my wallet out and hand him my drivers license and he looks at it, saying, "Nice picture," and goes off whistling. I tell myself, "He's a hot shit; he'll get it for me," and ten minutes later he's back with my frozen drink on a tray. He sets it on my table, saying, "Your frozen daiquiri, sir," then smiling, he adds, "Your only one of the day, right?" I go, "Awww, just one?" and he nods, smiling, and adds, "Your cheeseburger order is in; it'll be about fifteen minutes... enjoy yourself, Dylan." and off he goes. Well, isn't this just what the doctor ordered... haha. Lighting another cigarette to look cool while I'm drinking my drink, I try taking a sip from the straw, and uh oh... it's frozen alright, and it's strawberry alright, and it's got booze in it of some kind too, but the problem is: whatever the booze is, it's fucking up the strawberry taste. Damn, this would be delicious without the alcohol. Irony can sometimes be fun, and then it can suck sometimes too. How disappointing! Well, I gotta drink it now that I got it. Hey, I'll call Robby and slip in that I'm here on the beach drinking a real frozen daiquiri... oh yeah! Robby answers and I hear Dodger in the background before Robby can even say hello, Dodger's yelling, "If that's your boyfriend, I wanna talk to him." Robby goes, "Fer chrissakes, Dodger, keep it down!" then, "Hi, Dylan! I didn't think you'd call two days in a row, but I'm glad you did!" I go, "Hi Robby, I miss you, dude... I wish you were right here, right now, so you and I could do the nasty on the beach together." He says, "That's exactly the kind of thing I wanna hear from you. Maybe this separation is a good thing; you'll appreciate me more and be a little more amenable to doing what I say." I go, "Amenable? Since when do you use words like 'amenable'?" He goes, "Since right now, but don't change the subject; tell me more about how much you miss me." Taking another sip of my drink, then a drag on my cigarette, I say, "Well, I miss feeling your wee wee up my bum, if that's what you mean. And I miss my lips on yours and the way you taste and smell." "What else," he asks, and I reach up to feel what's left of Willie's hickey on my neck, adding, "I miss how you dominate my ass giving me your hickeys, and the way you insist on having your sexy way with me," he's like, "Yes? And what else?" and I go, "What the hell else is there?" He laughs, then says, "You did pretty good, but there are other things so I'll need to give you a good hard spanking when I see you for not remembering what they are." I go, "Ouuu, I can't wait; it's fun talking dirty with you." Then Robby gets serious and whispers in the cell phone how much he loves me, and how doing 'it' with Dodger is okay, but nothing like fucking me, and he hates that we're not together. His boyish voice is like that of a fourteen year old; that, plus his sweet remarks give me a boner, a really hard boner... oh man, I got it bad for Robby! Hearing him with his boyish sincere voice makes me yearn for him, and this just might be the first time the yearning has been so totally complete, almost desperate. This must be love, not puppy love like I had for Willie two years ago, but real adult love. Okay, maybe not adult love, but real love. I tell him that I truly love him, and then Robby says, "You're getting closer to the love for me that I have for you, but you've got a ways to go and I'm determined that you get there." This love talk goes on for a few minutes, so obviously Dodger's not nearby or he'd put a stop to it by threatening to throw up or something, and sure enough, in the middle of telling me the position Robby wants me in for our reunion fuck, he stops to say, "Dodger's back." I say, "Well, keep what you were saying in your head and finish it the next time Dodger's not back 'cause you almost had me creaming in my swim suit." Robby says, "I'm definitely bringing you around to my way of thinking, Dylan, and I like that." Dodger must have his mouth right next to Robby's now because I can hear him plainly ask, "What are you doing right this second, Dylan?" then I hear a little struggle, then Robby yelling, "Dodger, you're an enormous pain in the ass!" but Dodger's got the cell phone now. He says, "It's my turn to talk to you, Dylan. Robby's always had a difficult time sharing; haven't ya Robby?" Robby, in the background mumbles, "Fuck you, ya little turd..." as Dodger's saying to me, "He just fucked a little turd out of me fifteen minutes ago," and Robby yells, "You're disgusting," but he's laughing now too. I go, "Tell me about it," and he does, although I hope he exaggerated the story; it's a hot one though, fer sure." Then I finally get the chance to brag about sitting here on the beach in Key West drinking a frozen daiquiri, and it impresses Dodger. Anytime you can buck the system, like me getting an adult beverage at my tender age, he's gonna be impressed by it. Dodger tells me his folks are around the pool somewhere, and that Robby and him snuck away for a 'quicky', which I don't know whether to believe or not. And after a few outrageous comment, he switches topics and tells me about how he and Vinnie are going to tie me up and fuck me with both their boners at the same time; this will happen, according to Dodger, during our next three-way. Sounds good, haha. Robby gets the phone back and I hear Dodger say, "I'll see ya at the pool, Robby," and I can hear their quick as-a-wink-kiss over the cell phone, so they're not really mad at each other after all. They seldom are, although often they pretend to be. As my lunch arrives, Robby's saying, "This is something I'm serious about, Dylan. I know I said we could have an open relationship, but I can't back it up; I'm crazy green with jealousy knowing you're with him and I'm gonna need to put my foot down that that's it. I can't stand the thought of him doing it with you, I just can't! It's eating me up. So, well, we'll talk about it when I see you, okay? I gotta run now or the folks will wonder what I'm up to. I love you, and only you, and you must love only me, okay?" I go, "I do, I really do... we'll talk later, my lunch is here." We say goodbye, and I smile up at Dominic, wondering how much he heard. He appears to have heard nothing; and, I don't think I said anything too obvious when he was within ear shot anyway, but I can't be positive, so I've got a little blush going for me when I say, "Sorry for holding you up, Dominic. It was...." and let my voice fade out as I sign the bill with our room number, adding a big tip. He takes the bill, nodding at the cell phone, asking, "Your girlfriend?" and I mumble, "Something like that." Guess he heard something after all. I didn't want to cast suspicion on Pedro, which is why I didn't come out and say, "No, my boyfriend." While eating my cheeseburger, all I can think of is Robby. God, I'd love to be making out with him right now, feeling his bare skin against my bare skin. He's so fabulous; the perfect boyfriend. He's certainly becoming very possessive of me lately too, and to that I say; good, possess me, Robby... possess all of me. Being in love the way I've grown to be with Robby is just the most awesome thing in the world, and he sounded so dominant on the phone saying he's putting his foot down, or whatever it was he said; it was something like that, and I just love it! I'm getting another boner just thinking about him telling me what we're gonna do, but then he's considerate of me too. He always adds that, "Okay?" at the end of some bossy sentence to be sure it's okay with me. What a sweetheart, but he can be stern at times too. I really think Robby's adopting, in our relationship, that same confident, slightly arrogant confidence that he shows on the baseball diamond. It used to be play acting between him and me, but now I think it's more real than anything else, and he's so fucking sexy-hot when he's like that. God, my boners poking up my friggin' swimming shorts... haha. Adjusting myself, as inconspicuously as possible, I wonder: Hmmmm. if I keep thinking about Robby's sexy body and his sexy ways with me, will I give myself one of those awesome spontaneous orgasms?... that's how taken I am with him. Holy shit, I didn't realize how serious this was until just now... Robby, wow! After finishing my delicious cheeseburger and fries, then the not-so-delicious daiquiri with the booze, I settle down with a cigarette to totally relax. It's so nice here, and talking with the moms and my homeboys is special too, especially Robby, and then I realize I'm over-romanticizing that conversation with him; turning it into something bordering on maudlin... get a grip, Dylan! Switching subjects in my head, I think of Willie and what he tried to do... he actually tried to kill himself. How fucked-up do you need to be before you consider that as a viable option!? The poor kid. Connor solves his problems by thinking them through and resigning himself to the best of his choices. He settled on the Army where he'll get away from an unmanageable home life, and at the same time earn the money he needs to finish college, which is his goal. Of course, Connor is strong enough mentally that he didn't need to get stupidly roaring drunk while making his decision, and Willie had all that money in his past with private schools and what-not, which distorted his view of reality... oh well, what do I know anyhow? Wandering back to the ocean to cool off, I body surf on a few good waves, all the time hoping to run into a companion of interest, but have no luck with that so I return to the beach chair to dry off, thinking about Willie's and my history together. What a change for me Willie was, I mean from fat Carl. Willie's got this great slim body and that uniquely cute face. Not cute like Robby, few boys are, but Willie's cute too with his longish face and youthful appearance. Obviously, that's the type I'm most attracted to. Great body on Willie too, and I haven't even mentioned his dick. Mostly I think it's his unusual personality that fascinated and captivated me way back then. He's an unusual combination of dominance and preferential treatment, when it comes to me, that is; right from the start that's how he was. Never a dull moment, and the sex... oh man! Willie sure knows how to pleasure me, but there was always his unfortunate association at prep school with Carl, actually it was mostly with Carl's cousin, Larry; Larry-the-asshole. Carl wasn't anything to write home about either, but he knew how to back-off when I pushed back at times. Larry was, and probably still is, mostly a bully, and when Willie was Larry's 'boy' he somehow distorted Willie's concept of how to treat your boyfriend. With Willie though, he has an underlying sweetness about him to temper the dominant posturing, where Larry is just evil. Laying back in the lounge chair with my eyes closed, I think about our last run-in with Carl, the one Friday night that ended with a fist fight. He wanted to recreate that time he and Larry fucked Willie and me in his bedroom, but that wasn't going to happen again... Willie and I put a stop to that before it started. Still, that first time, when I was seventeen, and just learning about gay sex; well, back then I thought it was really hot... the first time Larry and Carl gang-banged Willie and me, I mean. It's not the kind of experience I'm likely to forget, although some of the details are cloudy in my mind after all this time; but, being in a weird, lonely mood, I think back on it, almost dozing off in the chair as I do it. Some of the details are vague, but the overall situation was like this: At that time I usually following Willie's lead, and he was basically following Larry's, so we were a little fucked-up to start with. Willie and me were at Carl's high school graduation party, I think it was his graduation party, when Larry nodded at me, telling Willie, "Take your girlfriend and go up to Carl's bedroom, using the back stairs, and get your pussies in position to be fucked by both Carl and me... now get moving!" Willie had taken my hand, pulling me, saying, "Come on, Dylan... this'll be a hot time," and I followed him upstairs, a little excited. Getting fucked was still quite new to me and I was infatuated with my recently discovered gay nature... it'd been only a couple of months. Carl had me pretty well trained, and at times I'd walk all the ways to Carl's house to knock on the door for Carl. He'd go, "Jesus! Oh alright, get your pussy upstairs and I'll give you a quick fucking, but I've got homework to do too, so get your ass out of here as soon as I fill-up your pussy with my spunk." Nice, huh? Jeez, sometimes I'd walk home bowlegged when he did me two or three times. I was pathetic back then. As soon as Carl introduced me to gay sex I knew that it's what I'd been fantasizing about for years, but hadn't realized it until Carl brought me out to it. The way I see it: My subconscious desires were brought out into the open by Carl's aggressive approach to taking my cherry, and at the time I just assumed it was normal to be submissive to a dominant sex partner; taking the good with the bad, so ta speak. Stupid! But, to be honest with myself, I do have a strong submissive side where sex is concerned. It's not a conscious decision on my part, it's just the way my brain works. Adjusting my dick as I lay in my lounge chair, I try visualizing that scene from over two years ago now. Willie led me by the hand up the back stairs so we wouldn't be seen by the party goers, and then into Carl's bedroom, where I'd been with Carl numerous times alone, Willie spread a bath towel on the edge of the bed, saying, "This is so we don't cum on Carl's bedspread; and those two will definitely be fucking cum out of us, have no doubt about that. Isn't this exciting?" Willie was excited so I was too, and a little apprehensive as well. We both got totally naked and knelt at the edge of the bed, our chests laying on top of the mattress. "When the guys get here," Willie told me, "Keep your pussy up in the air for them, Dylan. They'll be pissed if it's not up, sorta like it's inviting them to fuck your ass." Doing what Willie said, I remember feeling a little ridiculous standing side by side with Willie, laying our torso on the bed, but he was holding my hand and leaning over to kiss me sexily on the lips, and that reassured me somewhat. They kept us waiting like that for twenty minutes, and then Larry came in the bedroom, saying, "Get those pussies up, girls," and I did it the way Willie did it only to have Larry spank our asses a dozen times each, and it really stung. Both Willie and I had our faces scrunched up during the spanking, but we didn't make a sound. Larry goes, "Good! You both got red asses with white hand prints, and not a whimper... you girls are trained good. We're eating now, Carl sent me up to give you two a spanking and tell ya it'll be another twenty minutes or so. Stay just like you are!" He leaves, and I can remember asking Willie, "What the fuck was that?" Willie muttered that he didn't want to tell me about the spanking part 'cause he didn't want me to worry. We both were reaching back rubbing our smacked asses, but the stinging only lasted about five minutes, then we went back to making-out. Even back then Willie was an awesome make-out partner, and I had a boner when Carl and Larry finally did show up. "Now for dessert," says fat Carl, with a burp. Larry says, "Willie, get the KY and lube your girlfriend's pussy, then he'll do yours." Willie did a great job getting a lot of lube up my ass, finger fucking me in the process and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning, and then I did him the same way. When we got back in position with our chests on the bed, both had our asses high, waiting to be fucked, but both Carl and Larry got our hair in their fists, Carl saying, "Get around here and suck our cocks, you cunts." As Willie and I scramble around, Carl added, "Ya think we can fuck you with limp noodles?" I'd sucked off Carl many times by then, and was getting to like it too, and that's even though he wasn't a slave to hygiene back then and often had an off-putting smell to his crotch. He also didn't have a particularly large cock, but it felt pretty good in my mouth at the time. The two studs, Carl and Larry, had there pants down to their thighs, they didn't even take them off. Willie and I, on our knees, were faced away from the bed now sucking their cocks while Carl and Larry pulled our hair or cupped behind our heads bobbing our heads back and forth on their hardening members. Saliva was running down my chin by the time I got Carl hard; he was hard before Willie had Larry ready, so Carl says to me, "Get around with your chest on the bed, you got me fucking horny as hell with that pretty face and mouth of yours." Willie was the only one out of the four of us who was 'out of the closet' at the time; Larry and Carl were still telling themselves they were straight, just taking advantage of two fags. That's what they said... me and Willie were the fags they were referring to. As soon as I got in position, laying my torso on the bed with my ass up, Carl smacked the shit out of my ass, telling me, "Get your pussy up higher, to my level, ya nitwit!" which I did immediately, gritting my teeth not to yelp at the spanking. His boner poked right inside me, and he fucked me wildly for a minute or so. It hurt me too much initially to have any kind of a significant sexy effect on me, but it didn't feel horrible either... I liked being fucked back then, and I still do. I'd much rather it be with someone I like though, except back them I still had kind of a thing for Carl since he was my first sex partner, my mentor, and all that. My ass took a pounding; Carl put a lot of energy into it, so he needed to take a break after that nearly out-of-control minute of fucking me. Plus, he obviously was turned-on by the fact that I did everything, or almost everything, he told me to do. If I remember correctly, he pulled me around to suck his cock during his 'break' and I got all that yucky KY Jelly on my tongue, as well as his precum and juices from my rectum, but while sucking Carl's sloppy cock I did get to see Larry enter Willie, and Larry was better endowed, cock-wise, than Carl. Larry slammed his boner up Willie's ass, pulling back on Willie's shoulders as he did it, and to see his long boner disappear inside Wilie was kind of a turn-on. Willie yelped, and got two hard smacks on the side of his ass from Larry for his trouble, then Carl, while I was sucking his cock smacked the side of my head, saying, "Pay attention to what you're doing; don't be watching those two, ya pervert!" Yeah, look who calling who a pervert, ya know? Anyway, those were dumb days for me, but I did get wicked hot back then, with the rough stuff too, and as I think back on it now it seems obvious that Carl recognized that in me and pushed it as far as he dared; the bastard. Like I said, I thought it was just a routine part of gay sex in my naive days. Okay, to be honest, thinking back on that situation, I still get a bit of a stiffy 'cause Carl did fuck me good, and it had been the first time I saw a cock actually go up a boy's ass. Carl slapped my head twice more because I couldn't resist glancing over a couple of times as Larry had Willie plastered to the side of the bed pounding his hard shiny-wet cock up Willie's quivering ass. The lips of Willie's anus were sucked in during penetration and then pulled out at withdrawal and it's a sexy thing to watch. Willie's cries of pain turned into moans of pleasure pretty quickly though, and we both, Willie and me, were sprouting hard boners through most of it. When Larry, like Carl, got over his initial horniness, Larry pulled out of Willie and a long string of precum, ass juices, and KY jelly formed a sticky string extending from the head of his cock to Willie's pussy, er, his ass. Larry swung Willie around to smack his face with that wet, sloppy boner, then pushed it into Willie's mouth, as he's saying, "These two sluts love it!" and Carl mumbled something about, "Yeah, their choice alright." After cleaning the dominant's cocks, Willie and I were ordered back in position on the bed, taking smacks on our asses when we weren't holding our asses high enough to suite our 'tops'. Then we held hands with the sides of our faces together, "Willie whispering in my ear, "Hot, huh?" and I guess it was; or at least I convinced myself it was. We weren't allowed to look back, "Keep your eyes straight ahead, girls!" Even without looking back I knew when Larry pushed his cock up my ass, didn't need to look because it's much longer than Carl's. My ass was opened up by now anyway, so it went in smoothly; it slid in, and in, and in, and in, making me moan with how good it felt, getting me a slap on the ass, "Keep your pie hole shut!" ordered Larry. Willie was moaning too as we held hands, his left to my right, keeping our asses up for the hard fucking we were getting. Oh man, the things you do as kids! Larry held my hips with both hands, really fucking me, and soon he grunted, "I'm cumming, Larry... this is one hot pussy on this kid; ya got yourself a winner here, and ya broke him in good too..." Carl only response was a primal scream, "AAAGGGHHH! Fuck!" as he leans over Willie's back and unloads his sticky spunk up Willie's ass, Willie humping back off the bed into Carl's thrusts. Willie was moaning quietly into the side of my face, "Ahh, ahh, ahh..." as he began cumming on the towel under him, getting the spunk all over his crotch and belly. Then, Larry made a long grunting sound and I felt his sperm plow into my rectum. I wasn't quite there yet myself, which is surprising because I usually cum quickly. If it were Carl fucking me at that point, back then, I would have blown my load by then. Larry smacked the sides of my ass as he shot four or five spurts of cum into me, and after laying on my back and kissing the back of my neck, probably something he wishes he didn't do, but maybe couldn't help himself, he pulled out, muttering to Carl, "Let's switch," and a few seconds later Carl's cum dripping cock slid up my ass as Larry's goes up Willie's. Carl pumped my sloppy ass while squeezing the sides of my hips, digging his fingers in, and within a minute I made an embarrassing squeal as I shot a major load of spunk onto that towel. Maybe I'm embellishing it, but in my mind's eye that was the biggest, most dramatic orgasm I'd had so far in my life, as of then ... I've had much better ones since. Willie and I had to suck our man's cocks clean after they were done with our asses, and we switched off halfway through the process, me switching from sucking Carl's softening cock to doing the same for Larry, and back then I remember thinking it was sexy that the cock I was sucking had been up both Willie's and my ass, and that Willie had just sucked it before me. I guess Willie and me were cum sluts back then, but my excuse is... I was new at it, and didn't know any better... I don't know what Willie's excuse was since he'd been 'out' and supposedly sexually active for a number of years by then. Later, the dominant Carl and Larry made Willie and me make-out with each other, cum and saliva running down our chins, and I think we had to suck each other off too while Carl and Larry watched and played with themselves. To think that they still claimed to be straight back then is laughable, but I didn't really give it much thought at the time. Now they're both 'out' as openly gay bullies, I suppose... 'out' in any case. I'm not sure if I got all the details correct in my memory, but it was something like that, and I've got myself a boner right now from thinking about it. Just one of Willie's and my early adventures and, what can I say except, I've learned a lot since then. It was a portion of my early submissive training I suppose, if that's what Carl and Larry were even about, it's still with me to this very day, to a degree. Of course, I probably had a predisposition towards submissiveness during sex to begin with, and still have it. It was just exploited back then by older more experienced and dominant bullies. Jesus! My boner's so obvious I need to take a spare towel and casually lay it across my lap. Too bad Willie's so fucked-up right now or he'd have himself a horny sex buddy... haha!. That being said, I'm so over Carl, and I was never into Larry in the first place, so they can both go to hell as far as I'm concerned. I used to have a spot of affection for Carl because he taught me a lot, but that cluster-fuck he tried to orchestrate last Friday was it for me. He's in my shit bin from now on... the very thought of having sex with him is revolting, but that doesn't change the past memories... still, that was then and this is now. Speaking of now, I check my watch, and I'm like, "Where the fuck is Willie?" Wow, it's been a few hours since I left the room. Seeing Dominic, I wave him over to ask him to leave our beach chairs here 'cause I'm just gonna go up to check on my sick friend. I go trudging through the soft hot sand, carrying my borrowed sandals so they don't get covered in sand. I need to adjust my still slightly firm pecker as I walk along on my way to see what's up with Willie.
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com