DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR
Chapter 34
by Donny Mumford
Robby's cum, the cum I didn't get with the tissues, continues dripping from my ass. He's driving us back to the apartment with me squirming in the passenger seat trying to pull my underwear out of my ass crack . During the drive, Robby can't stop talking about the upside-down fuck he laid on my ass behind that Japanese restaurant. The cum is sticky now and uncomfortable, but it makes me smile to hear Robby talk about, and me to relive, that crazy sex we just had. In our apartment complex's parking lot there's a car pulling out of a parking spot right across from our building's front door and Robby slips the pickup into that just-vacated spot, saying, "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about!" He's lucky that way; I usually need to part a block or two away. We get out and I grab the two plastic bags of food I picked up just before our our hot upside-down fuck. Nice trip to Stop & Shop! At the moment I'm dealing with my cum-sticky ass, but at the Stop & Shop I was dealing with an itchy pussy that needed a cock in it. Dammit! I mean itchy ass. Apparently Willie's done a number on me not only sexually, but physiologically as well; he's got me thinking of my ass as my boy-pussy. Anyway, Robby took care of my itchy ass in a big way so I'm good now and that's why I can smile at the cum in my pants. I'm definitely feeling closer to Robby day by day too. Nice feeling. When we walk inside the apartment I see that Chubby's moved to the couch, laying down now. He opens his eyes for a second when Robby and me walk in, then closes them again. His hangover is still fuckin' with him. If he was up and moving around I would have gone right to the bedroom and changed my underwear and jeans because some of Robby's cum has soaked through the seat of my pants. But since he's not up, I do a little prep work in the kitchen. First, turn the oven on and set it at 450 degrees, then put away the groceries, drop the soup bones in a roasting pan and stick them in the oven to brown. Robby's sitting on a stool at the kitchen bar, watching me. I say, "That's it for about twenty minutes, Robby." Then, gesturing at my ass, I go, "I'm gonna change, then grab a cigarette. You wanna join me?" He goes, "You bet!" and follows me into our bedroom. I chuckle, saying, "Dude, I meant join me for a cigarette, not while I change my pants." He says, "I want to join you for everything, Dylan," as he closes the bedroom door. After I kick my sneakers off and pull off my jeans and underpants, throwing them in the corner with our our other dirty clothes, I mumble, "Gotta wash up," and walk into the bathroom, with Robby right behind me. "I'll clean you up, Dylan, it's the least I can do since I made the mess in your ass, heehee." He grabs a washcloth and holds it under the sink's faucet until the water's warm, then rubs it across my ass cheeks and under between my legs; I go, "Ahhh, much better,". Rinsing the washcloth, he cleans the back of my legs, then he leans over and rubs my cock and balls with the washcloth, massaging my package for good measure. He goes, "Let me check on something," and kneels down behind me, saying, "Bend over," I do, half expecting he'll push his finger up my ass, but he spreads my buttocks instead, mumbling, "I don't see anymore spunk leaking out, Dylan. You're good to go." This is followed by a loud slap on my ass. I roll my eyes because both Willie and Robby feel they're entitled to smack my ass whenever they want to. It's probably my fault for encouraging their dominant behavior.
With my smacked ass stinging, I grab a hand towel and dry myself. "Thanks for the help, Robby." He's still standing behind me when he wraps his arms around my chest, pinning my arms to my sides, which takes me by surprise and I drop the towel. He says, "I love doing things that involve your fantastic body. Are you sure you've never worked-out?" I go, "Yep, I'm sure." Dropping his right hand down, he fondles my cock and balls, asking, "Who's your best boyfriend ever?" I lean my head back so my cheek's against Robby's, saying, "That's easy, you are! It's not even close, Robby. I've never met anyone I loved remotely the way I love you. You and me are going to be boyfriends forever." I qualified my answer to Robby's question with, "loved remotely the way I love you," because of my special love for Chubby, which exceeds my love for anyone. It's just a different kind of love, different than lover's love. That's an example of my renewed effort to be more honest with Robby. He asks, "You looking forward to our first night in bed together after ten long days of sleeping alone?" Well, I actually haven't slept alone even one night in the last ten nights, but why split hairs? Robby's stroking my cock now, distracting me, so I just mutter, "I wish it was time for bed right now," which technically is sidestepping his question I suppose, but it isn't an outright lie. He kisses the side of my neck, murmuring, "I want you to stand right here so I can do that hickey I promised you. You said you don't want me to do it during our lovers'-sex tonight, so I'll get it out of the way now." I whine, "Don't Robby, do it later, or tomorrow would be better yet." He takes his hand off my cock and smacks my ass again, a real hard one. He says, "Just stand there! You're getting the hickey; I'm in charge, right?" Mumbling, "I guess," then rubbing my smacked ass, I resign myself to it, and say, "Yeah you're in charge. Go ahead." Then I lean my head over so he can do it, but he goes, "Lean your head the other way, I don't want to suck on the remnants of his hickey." So I lean my head the other way, rolling my eyes again.
Robby resumes stroking my cock as he sucks, licks, and does little bites on the same spot, low on my neck, near my shoulder. At least it won't show when I'm wearing most types of shirts, but no t-shirts for awhile. He takes his time as I stand docilely for him, forcing myself not to say anything even when it starts to sting. As usual, my dick's got a brain of it's own and makes a boner out of itself, which just encourages Robby that this is turing me on. A hickey is sexy normally, except Robby and Willie are apparently in a contest to make a bigger hickey than the last one either of them created, and that's where the discomfort sets in. Just when I start thinking I might spunk again from Robby's boner stroking, he gives one last long suck on my neck, and one last long stroke of my cock, exclaiming, "Oh man! Haha. This thing is really big. Does it hurt?" I give a loud, "Yes!" Then I do complain, "It's been stinging and hurting for the last five minutes!" He smacks my ass again, chuckling, then he says, "Good! If you can get one from Worthington, you can put up with me doing it. Can't ya?" I mutter, "Yeah, I guess." My cock isn't hard enough to point straight out, but it's hard enough to be leaning away from my belly, pointing mostly up, so it's a damn good boner. No precum though and I guess that's because of my climax a half hour ago. Robby says, "Come on, give me a kiss. You know you deserved this hickey, don'cha?" I shrug, and then mention something I've been thinking about for a while now, "How about you and Ryan, Robby? Don't you deserve something too?" He chuckles, and then in a really upbeat way, says, "No, that's the benefit of me being the one in charge. Do you wanna be in charge?" Fuck! He's got me there. I do another shrug, and Robby asks again, "Well, do you want to be in charge?" I go, "No, I guess I don't." "Get dressed then, Dylan, we'll forget the kiss." That's no good either, so I mumble, "I'm sorry, Robby. Come on, let's have a kiss, we'll kiss away the difference." He smiles, "Thanks, Dylan, I kinda thought that's what you'd say." Then he adds, "Hey, I'm likin' this 'in-charge' shit." I lean over and we do a nice kiss, and then he hugs my shoulders, saying, "Come on, smile." I do half a smile, thinking, 'I'm not winning too many points with Willie or Robby lately. Guess I gotta be careful what I wish for'.
After I pull on clean boxer shorts and sweatpants, Robby gooses me, saying, "Gawd! I love you, Dylan," and I can't help but smile for real now, and say, "I love you too, Robby," while realizing I've been put in my place again. I do get a high from being submissive to Robby, so why am I complaining? Robby had pushed my sweatshirt away from my neck while doing the hickey, but now it's back in place, covering the stinging bump. Fucking hickeys! How'd that get started anyway? Probably Willie, but I'm not positive about that. Oh well, it's no big deal. I ask, "You wanna help me with dinner, Robby?" He goes, "Yeah, I'd love to. Just tell me what to do." We walk back into the kitchen where I notice Chubby's moved himself into his bathroom, and the shower's running. Maybe he's feeling a little better. I get an idea, and ask Robby, "How 'bout I invite Connor for dinner?" Robby doesn't seem enthused about that, and he goes, "Um, maybe not. Let's just go with the roommates tonight, whaddaya say?" I shrug, "Okay, Robby." I take the bones out of the oven and turn the oven off. Then pour the quart of low-salt beef broth we just bought at Stop & Shop into a pot and use tongs to add the bones. The broth immediately boils when the 450 degree bones hit the liquid. Robby goes, "Holy shit! That's cool." Adjusting the heat under the pot to medium, I say, "We can't simmer the bones as long as I'd like to, but I have a secret ingredient that'll make-up for that." He asks, "What's the secret ingredient?" I take my jar of demi-glace from the refrigerator, explaining "It's demi-glace de boeuf, also known as beef demi-glace. My mom, knowing I like to cook, gave me a jar of this as a stocking stuffer for Christmas. It's from the Williams-Sonoma store at the mall." Robby says, "What's demi-glace?" I go, "Very concentrated beef stock basically, it adds great flavor to beef broth, gravies, soups, and stuff like that." Robby says, "You're gonna do all the cooking when we live together on our own. There's too much stuff to learn, I'll leave it up to you." I go, "Good idea." Then I put a tablespoon of the demi-glace in the stock, and say, "Now we'll add a garlic clove and some onion just to further pump-up the flavor." There are spices that go in the stock too, which I add describing them to Robby, but I've discovered that the sauce is just as good without them. I add them this time to impress Robby, mostly. "You mince this half an onion, Robby, and I'll get the other stuff that we'll mix-in with the ground sirloin." He asks, "Minced? Do you mean cut-up?" I go, "Yeah, but very finely." Then I grab some things from the refrigerator: Worcestershire sauce, dijon mustard, and fresh parsley. From the cabinet I get a tin of thyme and the jar of garlic powder. Robby's not making much progress mincing the onion, so I show him how to slide the paring knife into the onion a number of times about an eighth of an inch up from each cut, then do the same cutting downward, then slice through the cuts. He does this, and exclaims, "Wow, that's cool. Look at all these little pieces of onion." I nod and smile as I'm running the knife through the rough cuts of onion Robby previously cut. He says, "An eighth of an inch, hey, that's how long your hair is!" and he rubs my head. I mumble, "It's longer than that now, it's growing back," he says, "It don't look like it." "Forget my hair, watch me dice this parsley. You roll a half dozen stems in a tight ball, then slice thin cuts off the ball and, ta da!, minced parsley!" He goes, "You're a fuckin' genius in the kitchen, Dylan." I ask, "And where else am I a genius?" He says, "In bed, fer sure!" and hugs me, then we kiss. Sappy, I know, but we're in love.
I take the ground sirloin out of its package and toss it in a bowl, then throw in the minced onions and parsley, add a tablespoon of Worcestershire sauce, plus another squirt of it, and two tablespoons of dijon mustard. Next it's a few shakes of garlic powder and just a touch of dried thyme. I throw in some salt and ground pepper, dry bread crumbs, and then crack an egg in the mess, and ask, "Do you want to blend it all together?" Robby says, "I'd probably screw it up. You do it," so I wash my hands, then attack the beef with both hands, my fingers squishing through the mess until everything is completely blended. Feeling like a chef on one of the ten thousand cooking shows on TV nowadays, I instruct Robby, "Now I'll make patties in sort of an oval shape. I don't know why they're supposed to be oval, but that's the way it's done." The mixture makes five good size beef patties. We have an iron skillet that I get out, and turn a flame on under it, still instructing Robby, who appears to be quickly losing interest, "When the frying pan's really hot I'll add some oil and fry these fast just to get good browning on both sides. They'll be rare in the center, but they'll cook in the sauce the last twenty minutes or so, just before serving them. Some people cook them in the sauce for an hour, but Chubby and me think they're better if they're only cooked twenty minutes." Robby yawns, muttering, "This is interesting, but weren't we supposed to have a cigarette?" I go, "Yeah, but you used up our cigarette time giving me this mammoth hickey." He goes, "Oh, well... how much longer is this gonna take?" I say, "Five minutes," he goes, "Okay, I need to go to the bathroom and clean-up a little myself," and he pats my cheeks, adding, "It's been very interesting, really," and leaves the kitchen. Cooking isn't for everyone; I don't like baking, for example. Anyway, I brown off the hamburgs, also known as Salisbury steaks, then set them in a side dish for later. Slicing the mushroom, and then more onion, and throwing them both into the same cast iron skillet I browned the hamburg in, with a little more olive oil. I'll deglaze the skillet when the mushroom and onions are done, making sure to scrape up all the brown pieces stuck to the bottom of the pan because there's a lot of flavor in the scrapings. When the onions are translucent and there's some browning on the mushroom slices, I deglaze the skillet with some of the sauce from the stock and then pour everything back in the pot with the broth and bones. The mushroom and onions took about five minutes. In the meantime I peeled the potatoes and plopped them in a pot of water to cook on simmer for awhile. Then, lastly, I take a ladle and scoop out half a cup of the simmering broth which I'll add a couple tablespoons of flour to, when it cools. That'll thicken the sauce after I take the bones out. But fuck this! I'm tired of doing it too. When Chubby and I do it together it goes twice as fast, obviously. I'll do the salads later. Calling to Robby, "You can come out of your hiding place in the bedroom, Robby. I'm done cooking for now." He comes out giggling, saying, "I wasn't fuckin' hiding! I was cleaning-up, like I told ya." I go, "Uh huh, let's get that smoke now."
It's still a gloomy, chilly day. Well, obviously it's dark now that night has settled in, but still gloomy. Robby and I put on jackets over our sweatshirts and we both pull the hoods of the sweatshirts up to cover our heads against a slight mist in the air. Robby says, "Let me light us both a cigarette, Dylan." He puts two between his sexy lips and cups his hand over the tips to protect against the misty night, and lights both with his Bic. I watch him do it because he looks so fuckin' cute with the hood of his sweatshirt loosely surrounding his face. Maybe I like the hood-up look on boys because it outlines their face, highlighting it. Of course, if the boy isn't blessed with good looks I'd just as soon he not put the hood up. Robby hands me one of the lightly "lipped" cigarettes, exhaling the smoke he'd inhaled from both, and says, "I'm wondering something, Dylan. And I know I've said I don't want to hear about your cheating activities with whats-his-name, but I'm just curious about this: Is he more or less dominant in the relationship you two have, compared to how I am in ours?" I say, "First off, do you consider your relationship with Wilcocks as 'cheating', like you just referred to mine with Willie?" He goes, "Yeah, of course. What about the dominant nature?" It's me that brought this topic up in the first place, way back when; I'm referring to the concept of one guy being dominant in a relationship, so I shouldn't complain about it now I guess. Robby would never have given it a thought one way or the other before I started harping on it. So I've only myself, and my fetish, to blame. I say, "Um, you're both about the same." Okay, that's a lie, but I don't want Robby thinking he needs to be any more dominant than he is. He's not really dominant, he plays at it, and it's more 'cute' than anything else, but just right for him and me. Occasionally I can con myself into believing he's actually being dominant, but if I really protested he'd go along with whatever it is I wanted to do. He says, "Hmmm, I was wondering because I have to agree with you... it's fun having you acting submissive! I guess I was hoping he was more dominant so I could, you know, up the ante or something." I go, "Nope, you're doing it perfectly." He takes a big drag, nodding his head, then asks, "You sure?" Now I'm nodding my head up an down, "Oh, yeah, it's been fun for me too, but you've nailed it, Robby. You're doing it perfectly." He chuckles, smoke drifting from his cute nose, as he mutters, "Something tells me you're pulling my chain about that. Like maybe you're being just a little condescending." I'm shaking my head side to side now, going, "Nah, it's the truth, you've been awesome!" He goes, "Well, if I'm in charge like you claim, then I'll be the one to decide if I'm being bossy enough. Right?" Fuck! He's got me again, but I try to make light of it. "Whaddaya gonna do, make me carry your books around campus?" He laughs, "Hmmm, I hadn't thought about that, so maybe I will. I don't have anything in mind actually, just saying..."
To change the subject, I say, "Oh, just a heads-up for you: Connor's coming over for a haircut after my shift at Stop & Shop tomorrow night." He goes, "Hmmm, after that kiss you two had in the cupola, he might want more than a haircut." I go, "No way, he just wants a free haircut." Robby says, "Well, I'll be home tomorrow night after baseball practice... Wait, I have a game tomorrow. Oh man, and you'll be working; I like it when you're in the stands and I can show-off for you. Damn!" Taking a drag on my cigarette, I mumble, "I like being there too." Robby flicks his butt about twenty feet in the air, a nice arc on it, but it disappears into the night as it falls to the parking lot below. He says, "Anyway, I'll be home tomorrow night so why don't I give Connor the haircut. You said I did a good job on your last haircut." He's referring to that disastrous so-called trim he gave me the day before spring break. Calling his bluff, I say, "Sure," then mutter, "If it's okay with Connor." Robby sees me getting ready to flick my cigarette butt, and says, "Try not to set me on fire when you flick that thing." I give him a 'look', then say, "Watch this," and flick the fucker; it's one of my best flicks, just making it over the railing to land on or near the kid's balcony below ours. Robby goes, "Bravo," and we go back inside, not having resolved anything, which is the best I could have hoped for anyway. Taking our jackets off, I ask, "Ya wanna mess around a little in the bedroom? We got a half hour before I need to finish the dinner." Robby says, "Jesus Christ! I just," and he lowers his voice to a whisper before completing his sentence, "Fucked you an hour and a half ago." "Damn!," I'm thinking, it seems longer than that. I punch his shoulder lightly, saying, "That was a joke, Robby, come on, even I'm not that horny." He says, "Damn, I wish you were... haha." Well, I am, but I feel embarrassed asking him for another fuck so soon. I asked him for the fuck behind the Japanese restaurant too. Fuckin' Willie! Robby puts on a 'Counting Crows' CD and sings along with the lyrics. He's got a really good voice, and he knows it. I like to hear him sing. Pure, boyish voice; he could be a lead singer in a rock band except he's basically too shy for that. He's not shy with me now, obviously, although he was uber shy when we were first making out in the locker room that first summer we cut grass together. Robby's the same now as he was then, in important ways, but different in other ways. I'm exactly the same, except much more mature.
Chubby comes out of his bedroom then, looking shiny clean, with better color in his face then he's had for the past twenty-four hours. He asks, "Is there a cat in heat under our balcony? What's that noise?" He's breaking Robby's balls about his singing. Robby stops singing, and says, "You have stone ears, Chubby. Let's hear you sing." Chubby squeezes Robby's hand like he does with mine, saying, "Oh, was that you, Robby?" He's got a big smile on his face, but Robby's done singing. He only feels comfortable singing to me. Chubby's like, "Okay, let's fix that dinner, Dylan. You got all the stuff we'll need?" I go, "Hardy har har, it's almost all done and you know it too. You fix tomorrow's night dinner." Chubby says, "That's a deal, bro. I'm thinking, pizza from the Pizza Factory." I go, "That'll work. You're buying though." And the three of us break each others balls like that until it's time for me to finish the meal. I only need to take the bones from the sauce, stir in the thickener and slide the five patties into the sauce for fifteen or twenty minutes. The potatoes are cooked and Chubby mashes then along with butter melted in warmed-up light cream. Adding some salt and ground pepper to the potatoes, and they do look creamy and yummy. The salad takes three minutes to make. Catchup, mayonnaise, and drained pickle relish mixed together; that's my version of Russian dressing. Robby slices the French loaf and puts butter on the table. We sit down to eat and we eat everything, and while were doing it we congratulate ourselves on living the high life. It's been fabulous living together; not one fight between the three of us the whole year. "Freshman year's been awesome, hasn't it?" asks Robby. Chubby says, "Yes, except for the annoying school work part," and we all agree on that. It's eight-thirty by the time we get everything cleaned-up; all of us working together with that. Halfway through dinner we'd changed the CD to one of the 'Killers', and now we're listening to 'The Frey' work their way through "How To Save A Life" with me being the only one who almost drops a tear. What a fucking night that was in Key West! That's the last time I've heard the song since Willie jumped over the balcony; it was playing when he did it, which is the reason I almost shed a tear. If I'd been alone now, I maybe would have cried a little from relief, and from the bad memory of what might have been. I get myself under control by concentrating on Pedro and what happened after, after the nightmare.
The three of us put jackets on and smoke a last cigarette of the day out on the deck. Chubby asks, "How many cigarettes a day do you guys smoke?" Robby looks at me, shrugging, and I go, "I guess about ten or so. I know a carton of Marlboro Lights last me two weeks at least." Chubby says, "Hmmm, I hope I don't smoke more than that, but I buy cigarettes by the pack so it's hard to judge." I go, "Hey, that's really smart, Chubby. That way you're only spending about eighty-seven dollars a carton." He gives me a 'look' asking, "How much do you pay, wise guy?" I go, "Well, I'm stupid, I drive ten minutes to Salem, New Hampshire, where the cartons are fifty-three dollars." Chubby goes, "Yeah, but how much gas do you use getting there and back?" I go, "Well, not thirty fuckin' dollars worth! That's fer sure." He gets me in a headlock, saying, "Why can't I be smart like you, bro?" Robby chuckles, then asks, "How come ya never mentioned this to me, Dylan?" I go, "Oh brother, what do I look like, an information booth? How old are you two anyway?" We continue in that vein of intellectual discourse until Chubby says, "Brr, I'm cold and tired. Time for beddy-bye. Do either of you two derelicts want to sleep with me tonight? I need a teddybear to hug until I fall asleep." Robby and I both say, at the same time, "Choose me, choose me!" Chubby goes, "I changed my mind, you're both gay and I'd probably wake up with a sore ass. Guess I'll sleep alone. Goodnight, boys, don't do anything you wouldn't want your mothers to find out about." Robby blushes as I'm thinking, 'Chubby should have said, if one of us slept with him he's afraid he'd wake up with a sore dick because nobody's fucking his ass; that'd be my guess, not after that horrible experience he had with infamous Ricky.' Inside we take off our jackets and exchange a guy's hug goodnight with Chubby, then he heads off to bed. The ever conscientious Robby reviews his and my schedule for Monday's classes and then makes sure we both have the proper books in our backpacks so we don't need to think about that in the morning. None of us are real good morning people, we're more like zombies in the morning. Coffee and a mumbled, "Good morning" is about it. Robby and me are in the bedroom stripping to our undies. In our underwear we use the bathroom together for the usual reasons, and then it's time for bed. "What time is it, Dylan?" ask Robby as he slides under the covers. I check the alarm on the nightstand, and tell him, "Quarter to ten," and he says, "Oh good, we have plenty of time for me to show you how much I love you." I say, "Take all the time you need, Robby, and then some!" "Ha ha," he goes, "It makes me so happy to see that you want me almost as much as I want you. It wasn't always like that, I was your second choice for a long time." I go, "Let's concentrate on the here and now, okay?" He's on his side facing me as I lay on my back. We can see each other's faces in the light of the moon. Robby says, "I love looking at you, Dylan, and knowing you're my boyfriend, and knowing you want me to be yours. It's still a thrill for me just knowing that." He's rubbing the palm of his hand over my nipples and then up the front of my neck to cup my chin in his hand, and he holds it there, saying, "Tell me what I love to hear, Dylan." I murmur, "I love you, Robby. My heart belongs to you." He says, "My heart, the heart that you own, has been yours for years," and he sings a verse from that country song that he sang to me on the night of our reunion. It almost brought a tear to my eyes; I need to concentrate not to tear-up. That's basically too girlie a thing to do all the time.
I just stare at Robby's perfect face while he sings to me and I can feel myself drifting under the spell of love and reveling in how wonderful that feeling is. I willingly give myself to Robby for awhile, what he wants to do with me is what I want too; sharing each other's bodies is the ultimate loving thing to do physically. There are many ways to show love for someone, but physically, the best is obviously sex; that does it best. Just his hand holding my chin is sexy, and that's because he wants to do it and I'm letting him do it. Touching is so wonderful with someone you love. Casual sex would never involve someone cupping my chin and singing to me; not in a million years. No, lovers' sex is special, nothing else is as good; most other kinds of sex can't even come close. Robby's done with the song and his hands go under the covers to pull my underwear down. I help by lifting my ass and then bending my knees so Robby can pull my underwear off entirely. He leaves them under the covers, puts one hand behind my neck to hold my head while his lips cover mine. His other hand fondles my cock and balls. I suck on his tongue and kiss back as he kisses me. It's a slow luscious kiss with saliva exchanging from one mouth to the other. Robby lays his body against mine, covering half my chest, as he continues the kissing and sucking, with occasional licks across my lips and on my chin, then under my chin. I'm totally enthralled with Robby and his tongue and his hand fondling my now hard penis. We breathe into each other's faces when Robby lifts his head a few inches to catch his breath. Then he says quietly, "I love you, Dylan Newman. I've loved you for years and I want you to be all mine, nobody else's. When will you be all mine?" I try to say a word, but nothing comes out the first time. We're staring into each other's eyes as I finally mutter, "Soon, Robby," then get my voice back, to add, "I love you the way you love me." He lowers his head and does his now familiar lick up the front of my nose with his tongue saturated in saliva and all I can smell is that. There's the faint smell of toothpaste and the pure smell of his spit. In my mind everything about Robby is pure, clean, and perfect. Precum rolls down the shaft of my cock onto his hand, which he brings up to my lips so I can lick it off. Then, before I can swallow, his tongue is in my mouth sharing the drops of my precum. Robby's leg goes in between mine and his thigh presses on my boner as I feel his boner slide onto my belly; it too is dripping and I gasp from the arousal of it all. Robby whispers, "Roll up on your side now, Dylan. I need to have my cock inside your ass." I do that, taking a huge lungful of air, and then reach down to stroke my cock. Robby quietly says, "No, Dylan, don't," and so I don't. My boner's throbbing. Sometimes, like now, everything seems sexier, more erotic, and after all our ball busting and conversations without conclusions, I'm surprised this is one of those times, but it is. Mysterious, that's what it is.
Robby's squeezing my buttocks, then rubs them, whispering, "I love your ass, Dylan. I really love it." There's no need to whisper, but it adds to the dreaminess of the moment; increasing the sexuality of our foreplay somehow. Robby discontinues the buttocks massage and bring his hand over to wiggle his finger between my lips and I open my mouth slightly to suck on his finger. The side of his face is resting on the side of mine, his skin is so smooth; it's taut, but creamy smooth and I move my head a little to enjoy us rubbing our cheeks together. Then he drags his tongue across my cheek and sucks on my ear before putting his tongue in there. I suck his finger as he does the tonguing, a moan slips out as my cock gets harder, moving away from my belly now. Robby's body is covering half of mine, his boner sticking out the fly of his boxers, still moving around on my belly. I wish he'd taken off his boxers, but he's forgotten to do that, what with everything else he's doing to pleasure me. My ear gets filled with his saliva - first my nose, now my ear - as he pushes another finger in my mouth and my lips suck it and my tongue laps it like a cat laps at a bowl of milk. When Robby's two fingers are saturated with my spit and my ear is filled-up with it, he takes his fingers out of my mouth and three seconds later one of them is up my ass searching for my prostate. Robby knows very well where it is and soon I'm squirming under half his body and moaning quietly in pleasure so intense it's almost ridiculous. Then the second finger joins the first in my ass and Robby's running both fingers all the way up one side of my rectum, then the other side as I push my ass back against his hand and moan again. The fingers come out, and without a word he pushes his fat-headed, hard cock head into my anus, then past my sphincter. My shoulders shudder and a shiver circles my cock and balls, then my buttocks begins quivering, as I moan, "Robby, fuck me." My plea comes out so quietly I don't believe he even heard it. He lets my ass adjust for a few seconds then gives a big thrust of his hips pushing all four inches of his fat boner up my ass, and with an arm under my neck and the other over my chest, he pulls me hard against his body and humps my ass hard five or six times, then leaves it inside my rectum with his groin pressed as tightly against my buttocks as he can get it. A spurt of cum shoots from my boner as I gasp, and mutter, "I'm cumming already, Robby." He fucks my ass with as long a stroke as his four inch cock will allow until I make a high pitch sound and shoot streams of creamy spunk that fly from my cock onto the sheets with me struggling to hump my hips out as each batch of cum shoots up from my nuts. Not a whole lot of cum, but if it had been three times as much I can't imagine the thrill would have been any better. Now every sensitive spot in my ass and groin have sparklers going off and I shake with pleasure as Robby's kissing the side of my face, slowly fucking me now. His cock hits my prostate with every thrust and I hold out hope that I'll have a second climax, but four or five minutes later my cock is still only partially hard. Then, it's abandon all hope ye who enter here regarding a second climax for me because Robby grunts deeply, then slams his cock in me making squeaky sounds, like he's in pain, and then shoots his load up my ass. Another slam of his groin against my ass with Robby, going, "Ahhh, ohh fuck," then two less violent thrusts. Deep breathing from Robby, with him clutching me against his body almost desperately. Shortly, he relaxes and fucks me in his own cum for a minute or so as he comes down off his climax high. With his dick still in me, but without thrusting it in and out, he hugs me, mumbling, "Oh my God, I love you so..." Only now do I notice sweat between my buttocks and Robby's crotch, then it's obvious that there's sweat between our bodies everywhere we're touching. I mumble, "Don't let go of me yet, Robby," and he mutters, his head resting on mine, "Ya don't need to worry about that, Dylan." We lay like this for about ten minutes, until all our senses have returned to their normal activities and we're completely relaxed, our heart beats and breathing calm once again. One last kiss on my cheek, then he says, "Roll onto me, Dylan, so I can feel your whole body against mine. He lays back and I roll on top of him chest to chest, and we do a long wet kiss. Then I nestle in with my arms around him and my face at the side of his neck and chin. He has his arms around me too. He says, "Let's go to sleep like this. We'll need a shower in the morning, but so what." Robby's cum is drooling from my ass, running down the inside of my ass cheek, puddling on his thigh. My cum-dripping dick is against his sticky one, yet this is the most comfortable position I can imagine. Every minute or so Robby will take his left hand from around my back to lift my face so we can do a sucking kiss and then a lovers' long and sloppy one accompanied by moans of pleasure from our throats. Love rules the night!
I slid off Robby at some point during the night, but wake up still half on him, although he's now on his side facing me. I wonder how we ever went to sleep like that? I don't remember the last kiss before falling asleep, but I remember many other earlier ones. Pulling on my morning hard-on, I check the alarm and see I have another half-hour before the alarm goes off. It's eight-thirty, so that was an awesome night's sleep. Our first class is ten o'clock so we're in great shape. Drifting back to sleep I marvel at my good fortune the last eleven days; quite a run of awesome sex and good times with my friends. I refuse to soil the recollection by including Willie's and my night of pain, anguish, and near disaster of the permanent kind. The alarms wakes me and I see Robby staring at me, he goes, "G'morning. Do want to take a shower first?" Like I said, we're normally not morning people. I mumble, "Hi there, g'morning to you, cutie. Yeah, I'll go first. I won't be long." Into the bathroom I go, still naked from last night when Robby pulled my underwear off. Robby calls, "Ya gonna use the toilet?" I go, "Yeah, afraid so," and plop down on it to do my business. If I was only taking a pee, Robby would have come in and brushed his teeth or peed beside me. The only thing we give each other privacy for is doing number two. I'm regular and fast in that regard, so as I wipe my ass, and call out, "All clear." Then, I flush the toilet and start the shower water flowing, my hand under the spray until the temperature is good, then step into the shower as Robby's peeing. No more conversation until we're both dressed, and in the kitchen where we find Chubby muttering, "Hate these early classes," then, "Morning to you two love birds." Robby and me mumble, "Morning," then I ask, "Ya want coffee, Chubby?" He says, "Yeah, gotta have coffee," so I put his choice of K-cup in the Keurig coffee maker and slide a mug under the spout, then pull the lever down. Some hissing noises and the coffee is brewed perfectly in about fifteen seconds or less. Handing him his coffee he adds light cream and sugar while I'm making Robby's coffee, which is a K-cup of Dunkin' Donuts original brew. That's what I make for myself too. We stand out on the balcony with our coffees and smoke our morning cigarettes, only occasionally muttering something to one another. The Keurig coffee maker was Chubby's and my Christmas gift to each other this year; it rocks! We bought it on sale for $160.00, which I paid cash for. Chubby's going to pay me back for his half; so far he's paid fifty of the eighty he owes me. I feel fortunate to get fifty. Christmas is too far away now, so that's all I'll see of his half, but he's worth thirty dollars in my world.
Chubby's class is different than Robby's and mine; it's in a building on the opposite side of campus so he drives our Jeep there, and Robby drives me to our class in his conveniently parked pickup that's right outside the front door of our apartment building. We wave goodbye to Chubby for now, with a "See ya later, dude" send off, and then drive away. By the time the three minute ride from the apartment complex has us driving on the Merrimack campus, Robby and I are talking more normally. The coffee did the trick. Getting out of the pickup, naturally the very first person I see is Scott Tinsdale. He's completely nonplussed about propositioning me in the laundry room yesterday afternoon. Maybe he had a blackout from drinking all day like Connor experienced. Yeah, but he wasn't even slurring his words when asking me to let him blow me. He goes, "Yo, Dylan dude, how ya doing this morning?" He's with Ears who has a look of pain on his face, so his sunburn must still be a problem. I go, "It's all good, Scott, how 'bout you?" Then to Ears, I say, "Ears dude, I want to give you a hard slap on your back, I heard about your awesome trip to Ft. Lauderdale, dude. I hear you almost got laid too." He goes, "Do not, I repeat, do not slap my back unless you want to hear a bloody scream the likes of which you've never heard before!" Scott says, "Yeah, it'll make your blood curdle." I go, "I think I'd like to hear that," and pretend I'm going to slap Ears' sunburned back, but he scurries out of reach, saying, "Newman, don't you dare," then a little grin, and he adds, "I've rethought my position on sunblock." Robby grinned through the encounter, but so far this morning he's not up to talking to anyone but me. Scott says, "We got a walk ahead of us, we're in the Garber building and Ears ain't motoring too quickly so we gotta get going." I give them a wave of my hand as Robby mutters, "See you guys later," then to me, he says, "Wonder why they didn't park over near the Garber building." I go, "Because they're Scott and Ears." Robby nods, as if that made sense and we go to class. It's hard sitting through boring classes after being off for Spring break. I daydream about the summer ahead, fantasizing amazing happenings as Robby diligently takes notes.
After the first class we have an hour to kill before the next one. I hate myself for asking, but I can't stop myself, so I go, "Um, Robby, instead of hanging around here for an hour, why don't we sneak in a quickie back at the apartment. Ya know, one of your rabbit fucks like you did in the cupola." He frowns, asking, "Is this another joke? I mean I screwed you twice yesterday... jeez, Dylan, get a grip on yourself." I go, "Ha ha, got ya again, Robby. I was just testing you." He says, "I wonder about you sometimes," and I'm like pissed. "What's that supposed to mean?" He goes, "Oh nothing, I didn't mean anything by it." I go, "Robby, it's just that you create sexual urges in me, and anyway, you don't know how sexy you are. I'll bet that Willcocks is always nagging you for sex too." He goes, "No, not always, and we're not supposed to be talking about that, as you know." We're in the lounge drinking another coffee. Well I have a coffee, Robby has one of those strange hot chocolate drinks from a machine. Not for me; the time I tried one it left an odd aftertaste in my mouth. Silence for a few minutes, then I mutter, "Sorry to nag ya, Robby. I just love ya, that's all." He smiles, saying, "And I love that you do, but how much sex do you need? I mean, doing it too often might dilute the awesomeness of it, wouldn't it?" I go, "I don't know, I don't think so though. It was just a crazy idea, I don't want you to think I'm a sex maniac or something. I'll wait for you to decide when we do it, alright?" He shrugs, mumbling, "It's not that I don't like you suggesting it 'cause that makes me feel good. No, in fact I want you asking me to do you, it's okay. And, I'm sorry I said I wonder about you sometimes, because I don't. I think about you all the time, but don't wonder about you." So I try one more time, "Well, do ya wanna try a quickie? We still have fifty minutes." He says, "After lunch, would that be alright?" I go, "Yeah, that'd be great!" Then I go, "Can I read your notes from last class as I missed some of it?" He lightens up, "Sure, Dylan, but you really should take more notes in class. Taking notes helps me remember the important parts; ya know, hearing them and then writing them down." I say, "Oh, that's a good idea, but I'm getting pretty good grades relying on my photographic memory." He chuckles, "Yeah, that, plus my notes." I go, "Well yeah, your notes help too," and spend the next twenty minutes absorbing Robby's notes. An hour and a half class reduced to twenty minutes, come on! That makes sense. We make it through the next class, but I almost fall asleep halfway through it. Oh my God, four more weeks. I must have spring fever. There's only one more class in the afternoon and I try talking Robby into skipping it with me. My idea is that after our 'nooner' fuck, we see a movie. "Safe House" with Denzel Washington is playing at the Lawrence movie complex and it's supposed to be awesome. But Robby talks me into going to class instead, so he wins that discussion too. I ask, "Um, okay we'll go to class, but how 'bout that special 'lunch' you promised me at the apartment?" Robby says, "You got me kinda excited about that, Dylan. I was thinking about it when you were studying my notes and it's flattering that you like me fucking you so much. I'm your man, I got what you want and you are gonna get it. But, after lunch, not instead of lunch. I'm hungry so let's order a small pizza and pick it up on the way to the apartment." Knowing he won't give in about fucking me before we eat, I say, "Good idea," and whip out my cell phone, hit my speed dial for The Pizza Factory, asking, "Extra cheese, Robby?" He nods, and thats what I order.
We pick up the pizza and then drive home. I'm excited about Robby screwing me again so the pizza is taking second fiddle to that. Robby however insists we eat first, so that's what we do. We share a Snapple as we eat with me sneaking looks at Robby. God, I got it bad for him! He's looking so sexy lately and he's fucking better than ever. When we finish, I'm full as a small pizza ain't all that small. As we're cleaning up and getting rid of the box, Robby says, "Here's what we're going to do: We'll recreate the upside-down fuck I gave you in the pickup outside the Japanese restaurant. We'll use the end of our bed as the seat of the pickup and this time you can put your pillow under your neck, so it'll be more comfortable for you." I ask, "Really?" Robby says, "Really! This was a good idea you had, a 'nooner' fuck, haha. Sex in the afternoon." I say, "Well Robby, you're in charge, so that's it: an upside-down fuck, but you don't really need to do the rabbit fuck like in the cupola that I mentioned at break because we got over an hour till our last class." He goes, "I already figured that out, my young sex partner, but I'll decide how long or fast or whatever, our fuck's gonna be. Remember me telling you that before?" He's so cute being authoritative I have to grin, mumbling, "Oh yeah, that's right," then kiss him on the lips quickly, and add, "God, I'm lucky to be your boyfriend." He goes, "Yes you are! Now get your ass in the bedroom and pull your jeans down to your ankles." Then he asks, "Hey, what about the dashboard, there's no dashboard to push your legs against and immobilize your ass." We're walking in the bedroom, as I go, "Your the brains in this outfit, what do you suggest?" He looks around, then says, "Help me pull the chest of drawers to the foot of the bed." I'm thinking, 'This is turning into a pain in the ass'. I say, "Can't we fuck another way, Robby?" He's got the 'in-charge' concept in his head now though, and says, "NO! Just get that end, we only need to move it five fuckin' feet, fer chrissakes." So we move it over with Robby measuring with his arm how far away from the bottom of the bed it should be to simulate the dashboard. "Okay, that's perfect," he announces. "Dylan, get those jeans down to your ankles so your buttocks stay tight together. That adds to the fuck for me." I do as he says, then lay between the bureau and the end of the bed with my legs up on the bed and it's almost as claustrophobic as it was under the freakin' dashboard. Robby's into it now, he says, "What are you doing down there? You gotta suck my cock into a boner first." I scramble up thinking, "Oh boy!" Robby's sitting on the edge of the bed and I get on my knees to unzip his fly, then pull out his limp cock. My finger searcesh for a way to get under his balls so I can pull them out too, but I need to unbutton his pants first; now it's easy and out come the hairless round mounds. "Suck my balls first," he says, but not bossy, just conversational-like. I lick his nuts to get them wet and then suck the bigger one in my mouth to suck on and lick. I can't get both in my mouth at the same time like I can with Willie's because Robby's are too big. My eyes go to the top of their sockets and I see Robby sucking on his lips; he's making the "Mmmmm" sound again and rubbing my shoulders and the back of my head. After I've sucked his big nut for awhile, I push it out with my tongue and some spit rolls down my chin as I suck on the smaller nut, which ain't that small, like our small pizza wasn't that small. Two awesome nuts on this boy. I'm into sucking them with Robby's cock moving around on my face.
Finally Robby says, "Now my cock, Dylan," so I spit out his smaller nut and begin lapping his semi-hard cock. Robby says, "One of these days I'm going to tell you to suck me off till I shoot in your mouth. What do you think of that?" I hold his slippery cock in my fingers, and say, "You're the boss, just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do my best." He looks at the bureau, and says, "We already moved that heavy fuckin' thing, so not this time," and I shrug, taking his cock in my mouth to suck and lick it until Robby's pushing at my forehead, going, "No, no more, I'm afraid I'll cum." He gulps, makes a face, then says, "You suck cock ten times better than, um, you know, better than anybody. That felt so damn good it's sick!" Blowing out some air, he hops off the bed with his boner sticking straight out of his boxer shorts, so tight it barely moves. "Okay, get under the dashboard, Dylan, and get ready to be fucked." He's totally turned-on now; me too. I get in the space between the end of the bed board and the bureau, banging my head in the process, cursing, "Goddammit!" then get my legs up on the mattress. My cock's fairly hard already; that's what I get from sucking Robby's cock... his cock, and a couple of others really get me hot. I'm what ya might call a "penis lover," but I'm picky about whose penis makes the grade. Cocks are awesome! Robby squeezes in between my legs at the end of the bed and partially sits on the mattress stroking his cock and grinning. "I like you like this, Dylan. Ha ha, it's so cool to be in charge of things." He's under my legs now with my package just below his boner. He'll be pulling my puss, err, my ass up until it's even with the mattress when he gets around to fucking me. Right now, Robby's kinda gloating. Looking down at me in my cramped quarters he shakes his head a little with a grin on his lips. He goes, "Yep, I'm really digging' this 'in-charge, dominant' stuff; you were right about that and I don't mind admitting it to you again. Things sure have changed from the early days when I was following you around like your puppy doggie, haven't they? Now you're hangin' around me nervously nagging me to fuck you, ain't 'cha?" I'm looking up at Robby wondering what he's talking about. Am I doing that? Robby's rubbing my thighs, muttering, "Nice legs ya got here, Dylan. Everything about your body is primo, I'm lucky. Being a good baseball player and having you for my submissive boyfriend are the two luckiest things in my life; or at least the two things I enjoy most in my life." I mutter, "You're also lucky to be so awesome looking too." He mumbles, "Yeah, but I take that for granted by now, just like I take for granted that Dodger and I have such great parents and all that." I mutter, "Yeah, I know what ya mean." He says, "But enough about me, how 'bout you tell me how much you like me fucking you, hahaha. Just kidding. Reaching down he grabs my balls asking, "How would you like to see stars and test your vocal cords for screaming?" I go, "No thanks," and he pretends he's going to crunch my nuts, but he just squeezes them until it's uncomfortable, and I'm squirming, but it's not painful. I go, "No, Robby, don't..." He says, "Oh come on, Dylan! You must know by now I wouldn't do that to you. I wouldn't hurt you for the world, I'm just having fun with you; ya know, pretending it's me who's in charge of our relationship. I know the score though. You own my heart, so I go along with what you want as best I can in hopes of keeping you interested in me." I mumble, "You are in charge, Robby. Which one of us is crunched between the bed board and this bureau? Plus, I very much appreciate that you won't crunch my nuts, and what's this shit about me staying interested in you? I love you as much as you love me!" Robby gives a wry smile and says, "I'm having fun pretending to be in charge, enjoying it to the fullest with you, Dylan... that's all." Cupping the front of my thighs, like he did in the pickup, Robby grunts pulling my body up, and my head forward so that I'm just about resting on the back of my head, neck, and shoulders. He pushes my legs back against the dashboard, er, bureau, and drools a long string of saliva on my ass and then plays with it pushing it around with his boner, getting my buttocks wet and some of it makes it to my anus. Another long drool of crystal clear saliva, mostly on my asshole this time. "Are you ready for one of our recreational fucks, Dylan?" I go, "No spankings first?"
Robby gives my ass a couple of half-hearted smacks, saying, "You haven't done anything wrong lately. I smacked your ass hard yesterday and gave you that humongous hickey so that's about it for getting even with you for your cheating in Key West. Hell, anyway I haven't exactly been a choirboy recently myself, heehee. So, ya know, we're good, dude." His finger goes in my asshole and he gets it on the magic button and works that over until I'm gasping and squirming in my tight space down here. Robby mutters, "Gawd! I love to make you hot. How's it feel, Dylan?" I grunt, "Awesome, but it makes me desperate for your cock." And the fat head is at my anus, just like that. Robby pulls my legs back off the bureau and gets his arms around my thighs to pull me up another two inches, then pushes the front of my shins back against the edge of the bureau, so my body forms the letter 'C' and rams his cock in my ass, and it's like a choir is singing some emotional song in my head, a hymn or something; everything is right with the world. A cute boy's boner shoved up my ass is like the best feeling I know. "Ahhh, Robby, that's good; feels perfect. Oh man, I love it soooo muuuuch..." Robby grunts and gives my ass a stinging smack; then, begins fucking me steadily and I'm soon moving my head from side to side lovin' the sensations in my ass. I've loved getting fucked from the very first time fatboy Carl forced himself on me, but ecstasy has definitely been amped-up recently for me. It started with the three or four-a-day fucks by Willie's eight inch boner. The frequency, but also that added thrill I've mentioned when I'm able to find my most submissive state of mind, which Willie induces seemingly at will during those fucks. I can't get in that total mind-set with Robby, but I love him so much, and he tries so hard to please, it's even better than the thrill-fucks of Willie's! I'm reveling in the fucks Robby's been putting on my person of late. Oh my God! This feels so good! Yippee, sexual pleasure is my thing. My cock is soon gaining the hardness necessary to lift away from my belly and I can see the lips at the head of my boner quivering with anticipated activity, as if my dick is an entity in itself; maybe it is by now. Robby continues a steady humping of my rectum without interruptions of any kind, just constant stimulation of all the sensitive spots in my ass. His lips tight together, sweat on his forehead as his eyes close and his head goes back and I know he's in that special erotic place that precedes climax. I'm trying to push my ass up at his thrusts, but in this position it's mostly wasted effort. Then it comes on me in a rush; my entire pelvic area is tingling and that weird almost painful feeling pulsates on either side of my cock, at the inside of my thighs. I yell, "Ughhh, ohhh," and tighten every muscle in my body to shoot out that first shot of sperm, accompanied by unimaginable pleasure. My eyes shut tightly as I groan and another good stream of cum splatters on my shirt as Robby squealed out, "Eeeeee," with his climax's eruption and my rectum is drowned in creamy teen-boy spunk. Robby's frantic for about ten seconds hammering my ass with his boner. Two more spurts of my cum land on my my belly where my sweatshirt's been pulled up my torso, and I'm breathing deep breaths savoring all the fireworks in my body. Oh God, that was something. Too quickly, I have that totally spent, weak feeling as erotic sensations roll around my cock, balls, and rectum. Then my body feels like I have no bones except the one in my penis and I moan quietly laying on the floor contented and full of love for Robby. He gasps, "Holy shit... that was great! Oh jeez, didn't expect it would be that hot. Ohhh, man." He takes his hand off the back of my legs that have been plastered against the bureau and I crumble in the little space I have down here, my legs dangling up in the air.
Robby crawls out of his spot at the end of the bed, mumbling, "Okay, you were right again, Dylan, this was a great lunch time. We gotta do more of it. Let me help you out of there," as he holds his hand down for me to grab and he helps by pulling me up as I maneuver around in the tight space getting sideways, then standing up. My dick's still fairly hard and Robby's looks like it's still boned-up. Before I can suggest it, Robby says, "Turn around, Dylan, and I'll give ya a little encore to show you how much I've decided I like this 'nooner' idea of yours." I turn and Robby slides his cock back up my ass. We both makes sounds of pleasure in our throats, and with Robby's arms around my stomach, he fucks me slow for another five minutes, asking every minute or so, "Feel good, Dylan?" and I mutter each time, "Absolutely awesome, Robby," after the fifth or six time asking that question, he gasps, "I think I can get off again, lean over, Dylan, and grab your knees. I'm getting that feeling again." Bending at the waist with hands on my knees Robby grabs my hips and does his energetic rabbit fuck for three more minutes before admitting defeat. "Sorry, Dylan, it's not happening this time. Maybe we can have a double feature tonight," and he pulls out of my ass with his cock head getting gripped by my my anus lips, creating a sucking sound as he pulls free, chuckling, "Didn't want to let my cock out of you, did ya?" I moan, muttering, "No, not really. Love your cock up my puss.., um, ass. Robby chuckles again, and then absently smacks my ass a good hard slap, then another one really getting my ass cheek stinging. Robby's mumbling, "Love your ass... " as I straighten-up rubbing my smacked ass, going, "Ow, that hurt!" Robby gets my face between the palms of his hand, and says, "Don't be a baby," then plants a sloppy kiss on my lips, before adding, "Thanks for going along with this goofy way to fuck, Dylan. You're a great sport." I go, "No problem except for a sprained neck, I liked it in the hole down there, under the pretend dashboard." As usual Robby's cum is drooling down my buttocks, so I ask, "Ya think we have time for a quick shower?" He lifts my wrist to check my wristwatch, then goes, "Jesus! No way! We're gonna be late!" I state the obvious, "It's that encore that chewed up the time," as I'm pulling up my underwear and jeans. No time to go into the bathroom to hastily wipe my ass. Robby's ready to leave. "Come-on Dylan, this professor's a prick about lateness." We grab our backpacks and run down the steps to the apartment building's front door to where the pickup's parked. Robby drives back to Merrimack, going through a stop sign and then parking illegally in front of the Sargeant building. We make our class with a minute to spare. Then the professor doesn't show up for five minutes after we're in our seats. We exchange looks and shrugs. I feel sweaty and I'm basically sitting in cum, but I can't stop glancing at my boyfriend thinking about our great 'nooner'. I'm a happy and satisfied boy right now. By the end of the class my ass is sticky and I'm going to need to deal with it during my shift at Stop & Shop too because I won't have enough time to stop at the apartment and clean up. After class Robby drops me off at the store and on the way we both babble on about the 'nooner' fuck. Dropping me off in front of Stop & Shop he then drives back as fast as he can so as not to be late for his baseball game. Damn, the 'nooner' was awesome, but we need to plan our time better tomorrow.
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
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