Dylans Freshman Year

DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR

Chapter 5

by Donny Mumford

It would be nice if I could come up with a logical explanation for this mysterious Ryan Wilcocks and Robby connection. I mean, one that doesn't involve some kind of cheating on Robby's part, but I can't. Ryan obviously can't lie for shit; acted extremely ill at ease when he told me he hadn't seen Robby, and then Robby says he's been delayed because the equipment manager is getting him fitted for new cleats... and Ryan Wilcocks just happens to be the equipment manager... liars! Ten minutes goes by before Robby shows up at the quad so maybe he needed to clean an appendage or something before beginning the weekend. In college, weekends begins one second after last class on the last day of the week that you have a class, but now because of Robby's baseball practice the start of our weekend's been delayed until right now. The delay appears to have included some untoward behind-the-back activities by both of us, although I'm only sure about one of us. Robby comes in and I smile and wave at him; he gives a half-hearted wave back. He comes over with a grump expression on his face and right away I can tell something's wrong because he's avoiding eye contact. Well ain't this a bitch! I thought I was the one who'd be acting antsy because of my little 'after-nooner' with Rajon, but now it looks like Robby's trumped my guilty conscience with his own, doing the nasty with that skinny little Ryan Wilcocks no less. Actually, I always kind of liked Ryan's shy ways and his curly strawberry blond hair, and those horn rimmed glasses of his that are too big for his face, those full lips that make you want to take a second look, and I kinda like his ears sticking out from the sides of his head like little sails too... he's kinda cute in a goofy way. But him being gay, and Robby choosing him to fuck on-the-side... well, that really surprises the hell out of me, on both counts.

As for my defense of my drifting from monogamy to fuck Rajon Whyte this afternoon, it wasn't a fair fight from the start, he has magical powers, or something; I didn't have a prayer although I did put up a good front trying to do the right thing. When that didn't pan-out I rationalized like mad, convincing myself that most of the blame for my transgression belongs with Robby because he hasn't been doing 'it' with me lately. Blaming others for your screw-up is a sure sign of a guilty conscience, by the way. We're all born, all of us who aren't psychopaths anyway, with the guilt gene... hell, I can remember being a little kid and feeling guilt for taking more than my share of cookies leaving Chubby with only one or two. He'd look at me with his little eyebrows furrowed until I confessed. He always forgave me though, which constitutes the final step in eradicating a guilty conscience: first the transgression, then the confession and asking forgiveness, and the last step is being forgiven. Of course, few of us go through all that rigmarole anymore, most of us would rather not deal with it and instead squelch the whole thing somehow, like it never even happened. Truth is: when you confess it becomes part of your past, but denying it makes it part of your future for as long as you continue denying it. Oh fuck the philosophy, my mind's inadvertently slipped into this topic of guilty consciences because I have one, and apparently so does Robby.

Reaching under Robby's chin, lifting his head to look into his eyes, I ask, "What's wrong, partner?" he jerks his head away, mumbling, "What are you talking about? Why so many questions?" and then he starts biting his fingernails. "Dude," I say, "It's your brother who bites his nails, not you!"

Robby gives me one of his annoyed looks, drops his fingers from his mouth and then fidgets with adjusting the waistband of his sweatpants, muttering, "Let's get outta here, it's been a long day." I try for cheery, saying, "You're the boss, Robby... where shall we go?" He's zippering up his hoodie, looking anywhere but at me, "Why don't we stay in tonight? Eat in too, okay?" I'm bubbly 'cause I lucked out, temporarily anyway, getting relief from my guilty conscience. All upbeat now, I go, "Sure, we can stay in tonight and catch the Celtics playing the Lakers on TV, and, um... you happy with your new cleats?" He looks up, puzzled, "What? New cleats?... oh, um, yeah, they're great. Hey, whadda we have for dinner? Will Chubby be there?" Ah ha! Changing the subject, another sign of a guilty conscience. "Let me check on Chubby, dude. And, ah... I think we have hamburgs in the freezer, so we can do cheeseburgers and those great fast-food frozen fries." He's glancing around as if he's either looking for someone, or worried someone will show up. "Let's go, Dylan! You can call Chub while we walk." I'm smiling, going, "Oh yeah, sure Robby." What an unexpected turn of events ... I get off the hook, and so easily too! But what's Robby's story? Maybe I won't be so cocky when I find out what that's all about, ya know?

Heh heh... still, I'm being kind of a prick playing up Robby's guilty conscience, knowing I'm no boy scout either! Vowing to myself to tone everything down, I call Chubby's cell phone and when he answers he tells me he's just leaving the apartment; he's got the seven to twelve shift at Stop and Shop tonight. "Um, Dylan, how 'bout riding home with me tomorrow... you know, instead of waiting around 'til Sunday morning?" I say, "Let me check on something," and, holding the cell phone against my sweatshirt so Chubby can't hear me asking Robby's permission, I go, "Robby, do you mind if I drive back to Framingham a day early? Chubby wants me to keep him company." Robby, seemingly pleased that we're off the subject of cheats and cleats, says, "No, I don't mind... you go ahead," then he shrugs, and adds absently, "I gotta make up a shift at the store tomorrow night anyhow." I mouth, "Thanks," to Robby, and say to Chubby, "We're on, bro... what time ya wanna take off?" He goes, "I don't know, one or two in the afternoon." We talk a little longer about hooking up all day tomorrow, like old times, and then click off with me feeling good about that. I put my arm around Robby's shoulders, asking, "Everything okay, Robby, you seem a bit down? Did I do something to upset you?" He goes, "Why would you ask that? You never do anything wrong, it's usually me." Well, there's an opening I can't let slide, so I ask, incredulously, "You? What'd you do?" He goes, "Ha!" Let's drop the subject," and he puts his arm around my waist, while I've still got my arm across his shoulders... after a few steps, I ask, "Ya think this looks a tad gay?" He goes, "Yeah, but I don't care," and he squeezes my hip pulling me against him, then leans in to say, "I love you, Dylan," a quick pause, then, "Do you love me?" This is turning melodramatic and I think it's because Robby's in the 'feeling sorry for himself' phase of a guilty conscience. Remembering a Francis Bacon quote, whoever the hell he is, from one of Chubby's factoids, I say, "Alas, it's impossible to both love and be wise." Robby, frowing, looks over at me quickly, and I go, "Dude, I've sacrificed the wise part, I'm crazy in love with you and if you don't know it by now you ain't paying attention!" and I lean over and kiss him as we stop right in the middle of our campus. We're gonna 'out' ourselves if we're not careful, not that we're trying to deceive anyone. Robby says, "You're the best boyfriend in the world!" I smile at him, but that comment reactivates my own guilty conscience... damn!

We light up a Marlboro and silently pass it back and forth on our way to the upper parking lot. As we walk I'm thinking about that popular phrase, "I love you" and how it's almost the same thing as asking, "Do you love me?" It certainly implies that follow-up question. I mean, ya think the average person hearing that sweet comment can just leave it hanging out there, he has to respond somehow. Is it possible that the frequency with which one says "I love you!", may just be a measure of how insecure that person is? Hmmmm, or maybe not, maybe the person really just wants to express his loves with no ulterior motive. In the pickup truck, we huddle close together with Robby gunning the engine trying to get the heat going; he asks, "Should we stop at Tracy's to see if he's got beer we can buy off him?" I go, "Teenage boys should abstain from drinking beer because it's wrong to add fire to fire!" He shakes his head, and says, "Where are you getting all this crazy shit, dude? It sucks!" I go, "I've a photographic memory, everyone of Chubby's factoids is stored right here," and I'm tapping the side of my head with my finger. Robby mumbles, "What a crock! You can't even remember where you left your car keys half the time," as he pinches my cheek affectionately. He seems to be over most of his guilty conscience and done with his moping-around demeanor, so that's a good thing. Not that we should ignore our consciences all the time, but this time Robby and I are even, I think. And, I've just got an idea how we can take advantage of our supposed indiscretions. What better time to casually bring up the possibility that maybe nineteen is too young to be going exclusively steady. I'm gonna suggest we go non-exclusively steady, which is just like the exclusive kind except it allows for some ultra safe recreational sex on the side... nothing that will interfere with our mutual, main love affair, of course. This seems a much more mature approach to things rather than pretending to be exclusively steady boyfriends, but not really sticking to it. I'm not sure about bringing it up right this second though, maybe tonight sometime, and hey... maybe the beer's not a bad idea after all. When Robby says, "No, seriously, Dylan, do ya want a few beers tonight?" I go, "Sure thing, Robby... I'm hip, I'm no square!" He laughs, in a much better mood now, saying, "When did you turn into a dork?" I guess he feels he's gotten away with his cheating so he can be more like his old self... and as far as I'm concerned the whole matter's forgotten... but, skinny Ryan Wilcocks?? WTF?

We catch Tracy as he's on his way out the door; he's a good guy and goes back inside to retrieve a six pack of Bud, which is plenty for Robby and me. Robby pays him and we're off for our apartment. First thing we do inside is take showers, separately; me first, so now I'm the one putting the frozen french fries in the oven and defrosting the hamburgers. Robby gets out of his shower, and as he's drying himself, he sings along with 'The Killers'. They're blaring from the radio, it's that old hit that I really like, 'WHEN YOU WERE YOUNG' . I like the whole song, it's a rock 'n roll song with lyrics like these: You sit there in your heartache, waiting for some beautiful boy to save you from your old ways... Watch it now, here he comes..... Hey, he doesn't look a thing like Jesus, but he talks like a gentleman! Ya gotta catch it on youtube; it doesn't read too great, but if you hear it sung, you'll know why I like it. Brandon Flowers, the group's lead singer, is cool to watch too. Anyway, the Killers, plus taking a shower, have put Robby in a very sociable mood. He comes up next to me, and sings into my ear, "Looking for some beautiful boy..." and he squeezes my ass, adding, "I think I found him too!" I point to my cheek as I shake the frying pan to get the hamburgers moving in the hot oil, and say, "Kiss here, please," and when Robby goes to kiss my cheek I turn my face to his and we kiss on the lips. Robby goes, "Yum! Hey, any chance you might want your boyfriend to fuck you tonight, little boy?" I use a baby voice to say, "Oh yes, tank you so very much, you hunky thing" and he says, "Okay, that right there, that's creeping me out a little bit, dude," and we kiss again quickly, then I go, "Get the hamburger rolls Robby, and check the fries in the oven." He's like, "Yes, boss," and we finish getting our supper together. "Special treat," says Robby, as I'm putting our plates on the table. He has the blender out pouring in a little vanilla extract, then big scoops of vanilla ice cream, and lastly chocolate syrup and milk. "Black and white milkshakes, baby!" he says as he turns on the noisy blender and all of a sudden I'm thinking again about black and white Rajon and me this afternoon. It's not fair of me to cheat behind Robby's back, then catch him cheating and keep it all to myself like I'm holding his transgression over his head, when he doesn't even know about mine. Robby too sweet not to develop a wicked guilty conscience over his cheating, and I don't want him to suffer. He's more pure than me; I can gloss over my cheating, but Robby will agonize about his, so I need to come clean and be honest with him so he won't feel like he's the only weak link in this going-steady arrangement. Then I tell myself: but don't ruin our supper by blabbing about it right now!

"Jeez, I love milkshakes, Robby, but why'd we get the beer." Taking a big gulp of his shake, then putting it down leaving a cute milkshake mustache behind, he points his forefinger at me, and says, "The beer's for later when we can smoke to kill the taste of it, I'd never ruin a gourmet dinner like this with a beer! Are you crazy?!" He's being funny, yelling the word 'crazy" and I nod my head, mumbling, "My thoughts, exactly..." We eat every drop and after cleaning up the kitchen get bundled in warm clothing and venture out on our balcony for a smoke and a beer. It's cold but I'm feeling good; Robby smiles at me so sweetly and I almost get a tear in my eye 'cause I'm so bullshit-mad at myself for doing the sex with Rajon this afternoon and cheatin' on Robby... dammit! When my dick's running the show things go wrong; you'd think I'd have learned that lesson by now. But still, innocent buddy sex like Rajon and I had shouldn't be such a guilt trip... Robby and me need looser rules regarding our going steady status! I focus back on Robby, who's telling me about his first indoor baseball practice and how cool the manager of the team is. Some years ago this manager guy was in the Cubs minor league system; spent twelve years in the minors without ever getting a sniff of the big leagues... and he's been coaching the baseball team here at Merrimack now for the past ten years. Robby's chuckling, "Lefty's calls the guys on the team 'generation WTF' ," and he just might have something there. I kinda like that; I've heard of generation X, but generation WTF is even cooler! Robby says it appears, as with any sports team he's ever been on, this one is made-up of some good guys and some not so good guys: there appears to be a few egomaniac types who think they're too good for Merrimack even though they couldn't make it on a team in a higher division, and like always there's a few prima donnas who received baseball scholarships, but mostly regular guys, some shy, like Robby is until he feels comfortable, and then the majority of guys who just want to be liked, and make some new friends. Friends, in many cases, they'll have the rest of their lives. College is like a brand new start in life in many ways. I pay attention to what Robby's saying because, for one thing, I like listening to his boyish voice; him and Chubby sound like they're younger then they are... my ex-boyfriend too. It's also fun watching Robby's mouth when he's talking because his lips are so perfectly formed, bow shaped and full, but not fat... wonderful rosy color and as he talks they move of course, and I recall the feel of them on my lips and it always makes my pecker move in my pants. When he talks right after taking a drag off a cigarette, the smoke drifts out between those kissable lips; the drifting smoke and the yummy lips in motion, plus the occasional glimpse of his pink tongue and the shiny pure white teeth flashing by with the pronunciation of certain words is magical to me. It can sorta hypnotize me and I love that trance-like condition... it makes me almost worship Robby at times; that's how much I love him and love the fact he loves me.

It's awesome to be able to experience all that special emotion from just watching your boyfriends mouth when he's talking and smoking. Then comes the wonder of why I would jeopardize it all for a quick roll in the hay with Rajon... it doesn't make any sense, I know, but I'm a nut case, and was, after all, coerced into it.

A half hour on the balcony in this winter weather is about all we can take at one time, so inside we go to warm up. Warm up and pop the top on a couple more beers. After getting over the horrid taste of the first one or two beers your taste buds become numb and you're able to consume large quantities of this stuff, each beer going down easier than the one before it. We're listening to music and talking about our lives and when we're outside on the balcony drinking our third beer and sharing about our sixth Marlboro light, I finally broach the subject of my naughty afternoon. Looking out over the apartment complex at a full moon, I say, "Robby, there's something I haven't told you; I need to confess something to you." He interrupts quickly, "No need for confessing anything, lets not go into a lot of confessing, it's... ah, it's childish, is what it is." I go, "Childish? Whaddaya mean?" He flicks our cigarette over the railing in a huge arc, landing it in a dumpster too far away to be reached, but he reached it just the same. I go, "Awesome flick, Robby... but, um, we just lit that cigarette." He's flustered, lighting another cigarette and talking around it, "You've got me all screwed-up talking about confession when we're trying to unwind from a week of college pressures." I pull on the ear flaps of my beanie, and just come out with it, "I fucked around with Rajon Whyte in his dorm room this afternoon and I feel terrible about it, and I'm sorry I let you down. There's extenuating circumstances but I'm mostly to blame just the same." My fingers are shaky as I reach over and take the newly lit cigarette from between Robby's perfect lips. He mumbles, "Rajon? Jesus!" Taking the cigarette back he seems deep in thought, then mutters. "Oh, the hell with it, I forgive you... now lets move on. Maybe we shouldn't be so strict about our never hooking up with anybody else. I mean, we're only nineteen!" My eyes are wide as I'm hearing the same argument from Robby that I was going to use with him myself. Robby blows out some smoke, and goes, "I've been thinking about this: when we're twenty years old, or twenty-one is probably better, then the "going steady" thing will be more appropriate. And yes, I'm aware that it was me who thought this steady thing was a good idea in the first place, but I also thought at one time that coming out to our parents was a good idea and now it seems more like something you'd do when you're twenty or twenty-one... not in your teens!" I don't want to jump right in and agree with him about the going steady thing because it might seem I was using that as an excuse for diddling Rajon, so I jump in on the other thing he mentioned about coming out to our parents, "Hmmmm, I believe you're right about that. After all, who pays attention to anything a teenage boy says? I mean, lets get more mature before we start babbling all over the place about being gay." Robby's like, "That's right, and that other thing I mentioned, that thing about a teenager being too young to go steady... how 'bout that?" I'm like, "So, if I've got this right, you're suggesting we still go steady, but not lock-down steady... there's some leeway, with discretion." He looks at me suspiciously, then says, "Yeah, you got it partially right, like you and Rajon already tried out the idea before we even talked about it. How was it anyway?" Not sure at all what I should say to that, I go for the truth, and say, "Robby, guess what... I topped him and liked it. I know you're the main man between us, but do ya think once in a while I could, you know, do you?" I can see that Robby likes me acknowledging he's the man in charge, he straightens up some and nods his head like he's considering my request. Oh my god, he looks so cute in the moonlight with his eyebrows raised contemplating me fucking him, then he says, "I guess, sure, yeah it's an awesome idea! You used to do it and I had the most explosive climaxes too, but I'm still the dominant one, right?" I go, "Oh yeah, definitely! You're the best at that," which Robby can't help but smile at. He whacks my ass, saying, "You need your spankings from time to time, don'cha?" I nod and smile, mumbling, "If you say so." I'm happy... this couldn't have gone any better, but then it does get better with additional clarification. Robby says, "So we're both on the same page here: we're down with having an open relationship, but you and me remain each others number one boyfriend until we're twenty or twenty-one when we go back to being monogamous, which is the same thing as 'goin' steady' right?" I'm nodding my head thinking, "Robby rocks!!!". So, we're going back to our old relationship before Robby insisted on going stead... hmmmm, AWESOME! But wait, isn't he going to even mention Ryan Wilcocks?

Guess not 'cause we're onto another topic: Robby's talking about our Rhetoric class and the paper that's due Monday. It represents one-third of our grade and neither of us thought to pick-up the required outline guide for the paper. Robby's like, "Fuck man, what happened to that photographic memory of yours? We gotta go to the bookstore right now and get an outline!" I'm saying, "They're not open this late on a Friday night," and Robby laughs, "They never close, come on." We're not drunk on three beers each, but I hate driving with any booze in me. Thankfully Robby seems okay driving us to the campus bookstore but still I'm tense. Pulling up to the store we can see from pickup it's closed. Robby's like, "Damn! Stupid store closed at eight o'clock on a Friday night?" I go, "Duh!" and, with a big smirk on his face, he says, "You need some of that punk-attitude fucked out of you, boy," and I'm like, "Dude! Yes!" We both look at our surroundings; we're in this huge parking lot with some cars and pickups dotting the landscape. The bookstore streetlight at the end of the sidewalk shines in Robby's bright blue eyes, as he says, "For old time sake lets do it in here, the pickups nice and warmed-up, what do ya say?" The tip of his pink tongue licks the corner of his mouth as he looks at me with anticipation, and without thinking I grab my package 'cause it's such a turn-on that Robby continues taking this leadership approach to our sex life. I'm also impressed he's not letting my dalliance with Rajon slow him down too much, he's really taking a mature approach. Guess we're growing up a little; hell, Robby doesn't even seem inclined to pout about it. Wait a minute... perhaps he wants to avoid the subject altogether because he and Ryan were naughty little boys too.

But that was only a couple hours ago, so why's Robby so hot to trot with me if he just got his rocks off a couple hours ago? Hmmm, you don't suppose I've jumped to conclusions here. If I have though, what's the reason Robby acted so guilty after practice, and why was Ryan so antsy? Could it be it was just a make-out with those two? That's how Robby and me started; well, actually that's not accurate, we started with massages, although it doesn't mean Robby and Ryan need to do it that way. Taking a deep breath I decide to push these thoughts away and just enjoy being fucked by my boyfriend. I'm really more excited about it than I'd have thought I'd be after the fucking I gave Rajon, although that was almost three hours before running into Ryan Wilcocks.

Robby pulls the pickup over to the extreme left, turns off the lights and drives with the help of moonlight to an open spot between a large-size pickup and a van. "Nice spot!" he says with a touch of a slur to his speech. That boy can't drink, so he may be starting to feel the effects of the three cans of Bud. He says, "Okay, get your pants off. I need to spank your ass for messin' with Rajon." I jokingly say, "Show me no mercy," and kick off my boots so I can get my jeans over my feet. "Aren't you getting undressed, Robby?" He's pulling at his crotch, smiling. He goes, "No, I'll just pull my pants down when I need to. If we both start rustling around at the same time we'll be bumping into each other and it'd be a pain in the ass." I go, "Oh!" as my ass hits the leatherette seat. "Should I take off my shirt and sweatshirt too?" He's like, "Everything, take everything off, including your socks. Naughty boys need to be spanked naked." Jesus! I'm getting a boner already 'cause Robby's really playing this perfectly. I mumble, "Yes, Robby," and he goes, "Snap it up!". Oh boy, how could I have forgotten that being submissive to Robby is so hot; even hotter than me being the top to Rajon. This is the kind of sex I like best, the kind where I'm doing it with someone I love! Of course, my dick has a brain of it's own and sometimes only cares about itself, so I've been known to get in trouble messin' around because of that. When I'm totally naked, Robby says, "Get over here Dylan, I can't wait to taste you." I slide over and he gets a fist full of my cock and balls, saying, "These belong to me," I gasp at how sexy and bossy Robby's being. Still holding my package in his fist, he leans over to lick my chest, then suck on each of my nipples till both are pointing out from my chest hard and erect, and that's got me squirming and moaning and running my fingers through his hair. Then, tightening his hold on my cock and balls, he cups behind my head with his free hand and pulls it to him so he can suck my top lip between his lips, then a long wet kiss that has me hugging him around his neck; his tongue goes in my mouth and laps against everything there. A squeeze on my balls gets me grunting as Robby sucks on my tongue, and my cock's now hard inside his fist; then a long luscious kiss on the lips with saliva running down our chins and Robby licking across my lips, his tongue dragging spit across the front of my nose temporarily blocking both my nostrils, and when I do a stiff inhale his spit goes up my sinuses and all I smell is Robby. My boner's achingly hard by the time Robby lets go of it, and tells me, "Lay across my lap now, Dylan." I ask, "What should I do with my boner?" He goes, "Just push it between my thighs, I'll take care of it." I wasn't joking when I asked, but Robby was when he answered; he's already got me in a docile, submissive frame of mind.

Robby pulls down his pants as he's positioning himself at the middle of the bench seat, motioning for me to lay across his lap. Obviously it's an awkward situation arranging my crotch across his lap; I'm basically laying on his naked crotch, my forehead on my folded arms resting on the seat next to the steering wheel; my legs bent at the knees with my calves against the door and my toes up in the air tapping at the passenger's side window. My boner is not between his legs, it's laying sideways next to his, and feels real nice there too. "Smack! Smack! Smack!" on my ass, then Robby's rubbing my buttocks, mumbling, "Bad boy..." It stings a little, but I'm still in a trance-like frame of mind and lovin' that I'm squishing my cock against Robby's, and that our identical pubic hairs are intertwined, and that my boyfriend is spanking me... it's dreamy. Then, "Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!" really hard and stinging so I'm quickly out of my trance now, squirming at the sting on my ass, and yelling, "Robby! That's enough!" I know he giggled at that, I'm pretty sure I heard him snicker too, "Smack! Smack!" he's holding my side tight against his belly, spanking my ass with his other hand, "Smack!" "Goddammit! Stop that!" Robby definitely snickered that time; then, forcing himself to sound serious, he asks, "You gonna be a good boy?" I want to give a wise-ass response, but think better of it, and say, "Yes, Robby." He laughs outright at that, and then, "Good, you've learned your lesson. This is fun!" I go, "Oh yeah, whoop-dee-fucking-do..", but it is kinda fun.

He's massaging my buttocks with both hand now, and that feels better, especially with our dicks rubbing together... they're both hard too, so the brief spanking must have aroused Robby a tad. One of Robby's hands leaves my ass and comes over to my face, "Open up, Dylan," so I open my mouth and he sticks in his thumb for me to suck on. He pulls it out about thirty seconds later and works the slippery digit past my anus ring and up my ass to hook in my rectum near my sphincter muscle. Moving the pad of his thumb around he tries to find a prime spot on my sphincter, and when he accidently rubs over it my hips buck up off his lap. Robby uses his other hand to, "Smack! Snack!" on my stinging ass, saying "Stay flat, would ya?" and more rubbing with me tighening and loosening all my stomach and buttocks muscles squirming and moaning quietly, "Easy," he says, and I'm like, "Robby, I'm gonna cum," he keeps massaging my sphincter button anyway, and shortly I do a long goofy moan as out pours spunk from my hard dick, then another long lazy stream pours into our laps and has me going, "Ahh ooh ahhh, Robby...." More massaging of my sphincter gets me squirming off his lap now, he needs to pull me back. Cum drools from my dick, then just a watery discharge. I'm looking back at him, whining, "Ooh, please Robby, that was... I don't know, kinda weird." He's like, "I saw this on 'gayforit', it's called milking. I wanted to see how it works in real life, ya know?" I go, "Okay, sure. It felt okay, kinda good, but a little frustrating after I had the initial orgasm. Anyway, it's much better when you fuck an orgasm out of me; that's the best." "Better than you fucking Rajon?" he asks. That's the second time he's brought it up since we got here... so he isn't as blase about that as he pretended to be. And, apparently my messin' with Rajon got me more of a real spanking from Robby than our usual messin' around kind. No wonder it stung so much. I say, "I apologized for that, Robby... and yes, you fucking me is much more exciting than me fucking Rajon. It was a moment of weakness, and he trap..." "Smack!!" "I don't want to hear about it! Lets just forget it ever happened." "SMACK!" "Robby! Goddammit! Stop that." He massages some more mumbling, "Sorry, I'm jealous, that's all it is. I gotta mature some more with the jealousy thing, I guess." I'm like, "I think jealousy kinda sticks with ya forever." Robby says, "No more spanking tonight. Can you lay on your back now so I can suck me some Dylan penis?" I exclaim, "Absolutely!"

After more awkward rustling around I'm on my back and Robby's getting on his knees on the floor next to the steering wheel, jokingly muttering, "Maybe this trip down memory lane in my pickup wasn't such a great idea." We'd bumped each other and some of my cooled-down spunk from Robby's crotch got smeared on my leg and, trying to be funny, I'm like, "Ewwwww..." Robby does some more snickering; he's having a good time and, what the fuck, he's being a pretty good sport about my cheating... but still, nothing about his? To answer his negative comment about us doing it here, in the pickup, I go, "Hey, I love this pickup! You've fucked me some mighty good fucks in this baby." Robby nods his head, then takes my cock in his mouth and proceeds to give me some great head. I feel my cock getting harder and harder as I go back to playing with Robby's just shampooed two-tone blond hair. It's soft and thick... the hair follicles aren't thick, they're fine and silky, but there's so many of them they make for a think head of hair. The longest hair on his head is less than two inches, but that's plenty long enough to run my fingers through, and it's oh so sexy playing with another boy's hair. Robby just milked my nuts dry so there's no chance I'm gonna spunk again right now, but that don't mean having my dick sucked doesn't feel good; it feels better than good! As a matter of fact, it doesn't take him long to get me grunting and wishing I could climax. It can get to be torturous, needing to cum, but mostly that holds true if you've been prevented from doing so I think, and that's not the case for me. Still, I'm moving around on the seat with Robby making slurping noises as his mouth licks and sucks my shiny hard boner. Finally he lifts his head, looks me in the eyes, and says, "You taste good, Dylan!" and then he leans down to lick my balls for a minute or so... feels good, those little licks, so tantalizing.

Then, "Your turn," and, with some difficulty, we switch places with my sloppy boner bobbing around six inches in front of me, and not helping the transition, poking the seat and Robby, and bouncing against my belly. I take hold of Robby's cock and start licking and sucking real slow; I honestly love to suck my boyfriend's penis, it's an intimate way to demonstrate submissiveness and it's uber sexy for me at the same time, so I go slow hoping it'll last awhile. My nose presses against his belly, and then in his pubic hairs, and it all smells so fresh and clean! We took showers earlier so that's what you'd expect, except in addition to smelling fresh and clean there's another layer of odor always present with Robby. This other layer of aroma is a much more subtle scent, it's his naturally sexy and excitingly personal odor that's always with him. I do a deep inhale of his crotch area trying not to make a lot of noise doing it because it's kind of a weird fetish; you know, the thing I have about the way certain boys smell. I wouldn't want Robby thinking I'm a freak or something, but, oh my, does he smell good, so I do another deep inhale and my cock bones-up even tighter. My fingers ruffle his pubic patch which is sparse and soft, except for a group of hairs sticking together from my earlier drooled cum. Lifting my head, my eyes at the top of their sockets, gazing up at this boy with a smirk on his face. His eyebrows raise, like, "Yes, what is it now, my cocksucking friend?" I ask, "Ya wanna shave our pubes like we used to?" He motions with his hand that I should get back to sucking his cock and balls, mumbling, "Can't do it until after baseball season, then okay, sure... we can do it then if ya want. Now, get back to licking my balls." Ohhh, his tone of voice was perfect, the dismissive way about him has my cock leaking. Robby's so good at the role playing now that I often wonder how much of it is seen as role playing in his mind. As for the shaved pubes I should have known he wouldn't want guys on the team seeing him with shaved pubes, and I don't blame him. On the other hand, I want Chubby and me to visit memory lane, and shaving our pubes is part of memory lane, so I go, "Um, Robb..." and now he does seem annoyed, he likes having his cock sucked so the expression on his face at this latest delay is indicating, 'WHAT NOW?'" I'm sitting back on my ankles looking up at him, stroking my cock because asking Robby permission to do something is arousing the hell out of me. I stumble, "Ah, I mean... do ya think it would be okay if I shaved mine?" He's like, "Yeah, yeah, if ya want to," and again with the hand motion that I need to get back to my cocksucking duties, which I do, thinking, "YES!" That clears a big hurdle, now for the major one, Chubby; but to be honest I don't see any way he's going to go along with our old stuff. He's told me a number of times we've outgrown that stuff and I go, "Speak for yourself, bro!" Well, we are going home early together tomorrow, so I got a chance.

Stroking Robby's dick a couple of times, getting it harder, and then putting it back in my mouth as he rests his head contentedly on the back of the seat, his eyes closed. Soon, I get lost in the sexiness of sucking his cock, rubbing it against the inside of my cheeks and against the ridges at the roof of my mouth, then past my gag reflex area at the top of my throat, past my tonsils and into my throat, bobbing my head. To me it's thrilling to give Robby pleasure doing this very personal and intimate thing, and in a weird almost contradictory way, it a power I hold over him too. I say that because if I stop he'll lose the pleasure sensations my mouth's providing him. It motivates me to suck him off the best I can, because that's more power I have, even though he's the dominant one in our love affair. And, yeah, it's a convoluted world, this world of sexuality. Robby's cock comes out of my throat when I pull my head away, and his reaction is, "Ooooh, ahh ahh, do it again..." more a feeble request than an order. I bob my head back on his boner and it slides down my throat gagging me some, but I'm mostly used to it now. Holding my breath, bobbing my head on his hard boner and thereby stimulating the sensors in the head of his cock causes Robby to let out a long "Ooooohhh" and lift his ass off the seat, then he goes, "Jeeeesus, that feels good!" and I taste a few drops of precum as I pull my head back off his cock, breathing deeply while casually stroking his sloppy boner, then I lap under his nuts, my nose pressed against his perfectly formed scrotum. As I lick his balls I get extremely aroused; being Robby's submissive cocksucker turns me on as much as it does him. He's moaning from the pleasure sensations, so it's a perfect fit, we both win. Robby let's me know when he wants me to begin licking and sucking his asshole; he slides forward in the seat, like he's doing now, pushing his buttocks up a little so he's resting mostly on his lower back, his feet on the dashboard, a leg on either side of my head. With my tongue flat against the back of his balls I lean my head sideways and lick to his anus, then over it feeling the lips of his asshole quiver, then back to press my tongue right on his hole. Sometimes there's an initial acrid taste of shit, but not tonight. Rimming is the ultimate submissive act. Robby fucking me gives me the most pleasure, but on the submissive side this it the top of the mountain, there's nothing higher as far as I'm concerned. Talk to guys who are into BDSM and maybe this would be considered child's play for them, but for me... rimming Robby's my grand prize of submissiveness.

He adjusts his position slightly as I work the tip of my tongue in past the rosy lips of his anus; lips the same color as the lips of Robby's beautiful mouth, and I kiss these anus lips just like I do his other lips. Little by little I loosen his asshole until my tongue is inside his body working it's way in deeper. Robby's tightening on my tongue with rapid short muscle contractions and I feel another orgasm coming on so I dare not stroke my throbbing cock. If Robby hadn't milked my balls dry twenty minutes ago I'd have spunked the front of the seat by now. Breathlessly, he says, "Oh man, Dylan... that's awesome, dude, but get up on the seat now 'cause I need to give your ass a good hard fucking..." As I'm getting up off the floor of the pickup, he adds, "Maybe if I fuck you good enough ya won't need to go running off with every horny gay boy at Merrimack!" So he definitely ain't over my little slip-up with Rajon. It's so funny that he acted blase about it at first, and then it simmers in the back of his mind for hours getting him more and more pissed. It'd be better, I think, if he exploded and got it out of his system initially. "Hands and knees on the seat, Dylan." He gets behind me on his knees and reaches over my back pushing my head down, against the passenger seat's door, saying, "Hold still!" then, "Slap!Slap!Slap!" three fast, stinging smacks on my ass, "Just tenderizing your bum a little bit," he mutters, and I go, "You always say that, but the truth is you like spanking me!" He chuckles, and mumbles, "Yeah, I guess I do at that," and "SMACK! SMACK!" and I'm like, "STOP THAT!" and then his cock head's at my asshole, and one hard thrust later it's inside me. Burns too! Then it doesn't burn so much, and with another "Smack!" on my ass Robby pushes the rest of his four inch cock inside me slowly, painfully, me clenching my teeth together, a slow withdrawal, a "SMACK!" on my ass, and then in it comes again, feeling better and smoother. Two more smooth thrusts of that fat-headed boner and Robby's gripping my hips, quietly saying, "I got ya now, don't I Dylan? Want me to stop?" I know he's just busting my balls, but I can't help stuttering, "Na.. na, no! Don't stop! Fuck me, Robby." He chuckles as I feel two more fabulous humps of his four inches of hard cock, up and out, then again as my rectum shivers pleasantly. "Put your head down on the seat," he says, so I rest my forehead on the leather seat as Robby's mumbling, "I love it when you do what I say," then he begins pumping my ass slamming his crotch against my ass cheeks, making sounds like slaps. Oh my god! Why did I think it was better being the 'top'? Nothing's as hot as this. Robby's grunting now, his fingers digging into my hips as he pulls my ass into his thrusts, my forehead sliding on the seat an inch on two backwards and then a few inches forward as he drives that awesome cock up my ass, the top of my head hitting the door with each strong thrust forward. Even though Robby milked my balls with the prostate massage I still feel my nuts working feverishly to manufacture more spunk as I whimper pathetically, my ridiculously hard boner flopping against my belly with each thrust of Robby's cock up my ass, and then on comes another orgasm... it's not much as far as volume goes, but it has me squealing embarrassingly, like I usually do when Robby fucks me, and out comes a splat of cum to smear on my belly and then a gush of wetness in my ass while, at the same time, Robby's spraying my back with spit hissing through his teeth in an attempt to not make any kind of squeal like I just did; after all, he's the dominant top.

My tiny load spent, I concentrate on enjoying the messy humping of my ass which Robby's happily providing. His climax completed, he continues driving his boner up my ass, splashing cum on my buttocks, until his dick gets too sensitive.

Pulling it out he lays across my back, his cum drooling from my ass and running down my thighs. Catching his breath, Robby kisses the back of my neck, saying quietly, "I love you, Dylan. Sorry if I spanked you too much tonight, but I was mad about Rajon and you." I go, "It's okay, Robby..." As I say that, I'm wondering, "Yeah, but what about Ryan Wilcocks, and what about us agreeing that going steady, in the strictest sense, wasn't a good idea?" Something tells me to wait it out though, so I don't bring it up. Anyway, I like this right now, Robby fucking me, then laying on me; I don't want to ruin the mood. He says,

"Lay flat, okay?" so I do, with my knees bent and my feet up in the air, toes against the driver's window this time. Robby lays on my back with his legs bent just like mine. "Ouuu, I love the feel of your body, Dylan," as he snuggles on top of me, the side of his face next to mine. His cum soaked cock is wet against my left ass cheek and my belly wet with my own recent spurt of cum on the seat. After cuddling like this and mumbling about how nice it is, Robby reaches back and guides the head of his cock to my hole, then slides it back up my ass and fucks me with us flat on the seat for about fifteen minutes complaining, while laughing at himself, about his sore cock. Eventually he grunts and pumps my ass extra hard shooting out a small second climax, then pumps my hole fast for fifteen seconds before pulling out going, "Owww, oh man, I'm sore!" He smacks my ass, then says, "That was awesome! Get up though, I gotta pee." When I'm up, Robby hops out of the driver's side for a pee in the parking lot, pulling his pants up from his knees as he's getting out of the pickup. While he's peeing I get dressed, which ain't so easy to do sitting in a pickup in the dark with cum drooling out of your ass, but I manage, and I even remembered to get some tissues from the glove box to put in my underpants to soak up the large amount of spunk up my ass from Robby's two orgasms. It made me rethink the Ryan thing again. Maybe he didn't fuck Ryan. If he did fuck him three hours or so ago... okay, he'd still have a load to shoot inside me, but would he have two as big as the ones he's just had? I don't think so, not three big orgasms in three hours or so.

When Robby gets back inside he's real cold, hugging himself, saying, "Get over here you cute hottie and help warm me up!" And he's hugging my body now, his face real cold next to mine. Warmed up, he kisses me a long soft kiss on my lips, then says, "You're not mad at me for spanking you are you?" I tell him I'm not, and it's the truth, I'm not, and as a matter of fact, I got off easy for my unfaithfulness! Plus I can feel how much Robby loves me even though I was unfaithful so I cling to him. I'm still not inclined to ask him about Ryan as I'm losing confidence in what I saw. Maybe I was projecting my own guilt on them because of what Rajon and I did. Breaking into my musings, Robby rolls the windows down, saying, "I'll keep the heat cranked up and we can have a smoke in here. It's wicked cold out there!" He's up-beat and happy lighting up a Marlboro and passing it to me, asking, "How was it, Dylan?" Now he wants compliments and that really is just like Robby. He's got this A-type personality where he wants to do everything better than everyone else, yet he's not so confident about being able to accomplish that. I blow out a long exhale of smoke, waving my hand at it trying to guide it out the window, saying, "Awesome, dude! That was dynamite hot and I loved it. Love your bossy ways too." He takes the cigarette, and mumbles, "Really?" My boyfriend wants to hear more so I pile it on having some good natured fun with it too, but it was a sincerely hot time in the pickup tonight. "Robby, you get me hotter than anybody, not that there have been a lot of others, I'm just saying... you rock, dude! And I'm totally serious, thanks man... and don't you ever even think about dumping me." He pats my leg, serious like, and says, "Awww, I'm never gonna dump you, don't worry about that. I love ya more than anything, ya know?" I was half kidding around, but he's so serious I stay serious and say,"Thanks, me too." He turns the radio on and it's 'The killers' again with the song 'When You were Young' so we laugh about that coincidence and sing along with Brandon Flowers a little. Done with that, I sneak in a reminder of our talk about the type of 'going steady'we want to follow. "By the way, Robby, what about what you said earlier... you know, that we're too young to go exclusively steady?" Robby's taking a drag, and as the smoke drifts from his mouth, he says, "Finish this off," and I take a quick drag then flick the butt off the side mirror and it comes right back in through the open window with Robby laughing, calling me, "Spazzzz-tic!" Damn, I had the cigarette flicking under control, now this embarrassing screw-up. The butt bounces off my knee, hits the dashboard and then ricochets under the seat so I'm on hands and knees fishing under the seat blindly until I burn my finger, go, "Ah ha!" and come out with the still smoldering butt which I drop out the window. Robby's clapping his hands saying, "Bravo, bravo!" I flash him the finger and he grabs it, that boy has the fastest reflexes! "Naughty boy!" he goes, and then lets go of my finger and ruffles my burr haircut saying, "I know I fucked up that last haircut, but you look good with short hair." I go, "Ha! Convenient for you!" But my clarifying point about us going steady is lost in translation; he said earlier something about an 'open' relationship... I should just leave it at that.

Robby hasn't forgotten the homework outline we came over here for in the first place: he's activating the power windows, saying, "Lets drive over to the student center and see if someone there has that outline we need. If they do we can work the project Sunday before supper. Are you aware that you and Chubby and the moms are coming over our place Sunday afternoon, dad's grilling outside in the snow." I go, "Yeah, I heard... that's cool!" Robby backs out of the parking spot, and I can't resist asking again, "How 'bout that 'going steady' thing you talked about?" Robby shrugs, then mumbles, "I know I'm suppose to be the dominant one, but why do I gotta make all the decisions?" I go, "Duh! That's what being in charge is all about." Robby asks, "What do you think?" and I am happy to concur with what he said earlier, "We're too young for an inflexible 'steady' relationship. We should have a little openness about it, have an open relationship with you and me being each other's main boyfriend." He goes, "Well, you already exerted your own 'openness plan', didn't ya?" I go, "That's the first slip-up I've had since we came to Merrimack," which gets Robby turning his head, and asking, "Really? Honest to God?" I say, "Cross my heart on my mom's honor, Rajon's my only one... and he basically attacked me like Dodger..." "I don't wanna hear the details, Dylan... I just don't. Maybe we can discuss in a general way what we do in the "open" part of our relationship once it's officially open, ya know?" That's a little convoluted, but it'll do, so I just mumble, "Uh huh," and leave it at that.

We're in front of the student center now, and while parking, Robby says, "Since you already started it, I agree we should be able to drift off the reservation occasionally, but if we do it all the time why pretend we're going steady?" I say, "We won't do it all the time, and we'll be safe with it, ya know? So we can, you know..." When we're out of the pickup walking towards the quad, Roddy gets his arm around my neck, and says, "It's funny you had your little Rajon on the side today because just before I met you after practice Ryan Wilcock gave me a blow job. He never finished with it though, we heard something in the locker room and it spooked him. He's a goofy little thing but he gives good head." I'm speechless, finally I manage to sputter, "Ya mean, you've been throwing my slip-up with Rajon in my face all evening, after I confessed, and all along you knew you slipped-up too? You've been getting blow jobs from Ryan all along." Robby kisses my chin, saying, "Didn't ya know, President Clinton decreed that blow jobs aren't sexual relations?" He's chuckling, and I'm almost afraid to ask, I mean he's so cavalier about the oral sex, which is cheating on me no matter what Bill Clinton said. I take a chance and ask, "Any other incidences, other than Ryan, I mean?" Robby goes, "Just a couple, but like the same way I don't wanna hear about your side action, I don't want to talk about mine either." I stop walking, "Two other guys?" Robby's biting his nails again, "I was gonna tell you... it just happened." "With who?" Robby squeezes behind my neck, and says, "I don't wanna say, but it's not Connor if that's what you're worried about." I guess I'm looking pissed-off, and Robby asks, "Can I apologize, ask you to forgive me, and we'll start fresh? Okay?" Hmmm, this is what I wanted in the first place, but now maybe I can make it seem like I'm the one being magnanimous about things... I kick at something on the parking lot, a paper cup or something, and say, "Okay, I'll agree to go along with your plan. You're in charge, after all." He laughs and goes, "You're such a conniver, but I love ya anyway, Dylan," and he hugs me to him and we do a nice long kiss right in the middle of the parking lot.

At the door to the quad, Robby says, "You check the guys in the quad for the outline and I'll check upstairs and meet ya down here in five minutes. If we don't come up with it tonight you can come over at eleven tomorrow when the bookstore opens." I'm like, "Roger that, boss," as I'm pulling open the door. Inside I turn to the right as Robby's going up the steps straight ahead, two at a time. Slowly walking around the big area I'm casually looking for someone in our rhetoric class, but there's no one here tonight that I even know, so I begin asking around, "Anybody have Professor Olden for Rhetoric?" Lots of head shakes and then Dick Verris stands up with a deck of cards in his hand; he's the last person I want to see. "What the hell's your problem now, Newman, you come up with another word nobody's ever heard of?" His asshole companion Jarod Mellincamp is with him, they're playing gin rummy with two guys who look old enough to be seniors. The game's apparently over and there's money changing hands. I turn my back on him and head for the door, I'm obviously not going to get the outline here, and I don't want anything to do with that bully-prick. As I'm walking away, I hear one of the seniors say, "Well, Dick, you got us good tonight... lets see, we each owe you and Mellincamp forty-two dollars." Dick's a poor winner of course, he says, "Pay up suckers... it was like taking candy from a baby... huh, Jarod?" I didn't hear Jarod's response, but I'll bet anything they cheated!

Robby's not back yet so I'll have a smoke and wait for him outside. That's my plan anyway, but I don't even get the cigarette lit before Jarod's outside and in my face. "Kinda rude not to say hi, isn't it, Newman!" and, just like that he knocks my beanie off and kicks it, then starts to say something about my burr haircut, but I don't give him a chance to finish that thought; instead, I swing around with all my might and catch him low on his chin with my fist. The punch was so wild, with two semesters of frustration behind it, that I almost missed him entirely. When you just snap out, ya don't give a shit! I'm so sick of putting up with these two assholes I don't care what happens; whatever comes of starting this fight couldn't be any worse than constantly being harassed, bullied... whatever you wanna call it; it's been making me feel creepy, like a loser. Jarod's shorter than me and kind of skinny, but he recovers from that sucker punch and comes in swinging. Tough little bastard! We're doing the typical unsophisticated fighting you see at school of all levels, flailing punches at each other for all we're worth without either of us making much progress until he gets a punch through, right on my nose and I see stars. I give up boxing with him and dive at his feet, grabbing both his ankles and pulling them up violently. He goes over backwards whacking the back of his head pretty good on the hard-packed snow. I'm already breathing in short raspy gulps glancing over my shoulder, and here comes fatso Dick-head Verris. He's as tall as me, but much heavier, thicker. Out the door in a flash, he's jogging quickly towards me with a sneering grin on his face. This is probably what he's been working towards all year, to get me to start a fight. Jarod's up but he's bent over with one hand rubbing his chin and the other feeling at the back of his head, temporarily out of commission. His jaw and his whole head probably aches something awful; I hope so anyway.

Turning my full attention to raging bull here, I'm assuming he won't expects me to stand my ground, so that's what I do and, when he's just within reach, I'll try sneaking in a kick to his balls to slow him up a little. I fully expect to get the shit kicked out of me in the end because he outweighs me by a ton, and I'm not that tough to start with. Anyway, I'm not about winning this fight; I just want to hurt him some and keep some of my self respect. It doesn't bother me how I go about it either; I mean, I don't know shit about the marcuis of queensbury rules of boxing or fighting or whatever... this is a street fight and I'll hit him with a hammer if one becomes available. I've been in fights before, but it's been almost a year since the last one and I was kinda hoping we'd all outgrow this sort of thing. And sure, my hearts pounding fast and adrenaline's pouring into my bloodstream making me very jumpy, but nothing can be done about that. When Verris is two steps from me I try kicking his balls over the building, but he turns and I get his thigh. He grunts, "You pussy! No pulling hair, girlie... ya fairy! Oh man, I'm going to love this." I pretend to turn and run, but only take one step back, stop, then turn around and do the same kind of wild swing I'd connected with Jarod's chin earlier. Verris blocks it easily with his forearm and drives a punch into my breadbasket that almost lifts me off the ground. He's a bull alright; he looks overweight but it's not blubber, it's hard fat and muscle. He's got this animalistic revolting thick neck, and those thick wrists you see on some guys, and oversized hands... everything twice as thick or twice as big as mine. I go, "Oooofff..." when his fist buries in my belly, all the air swooshing out of me, and I can't catch my next breath. It's one of those deals where you think you'll never breath again, but that isn't my biggest problem; I'm bent over with both arms around my stomach and Verris is loading up for an upper cut to my face. Seeing it coming at the last second, I move just enough to take it on my hard forehead and stars surround me, bells go off and a dull ache rings and pounds in my head.

After a second, the roaring in my head turns to a scary deep silence, and then in comes oxygen filling my lungs once again and my hearing adjusts back to normal. I'm able to back away from another round house from Verris who swung and wiffed so hard he stumbles over his own feet and hits the ground. A big break for me except Jarods feeling better now and has snuck up behind me, he uses a foot to sweep my feet together and I fall onto the snow-covered sidewalk with a thud, but I fall next to a discarded long-neck Miller Lite bottle under a shrub. Ya know, college kids are so thoughtless, they'll toss empty beer bottles anywhere they happen to be when they've finished with it. To be fair though, there are metal trash cans next to the door, so maybe the kid tried tossing the bottle in the trash can and it ricocheted off to land here. I'm hurting, especially my head and stomach, but I'm also very pissed off and therefore very motivated. I get the neck of the beer bottle in my fist and quick as a cat jump up swinging it at Jarod, figuring he might be discouraged easier than Dick-head Verris would be. The bottle connects with Jarods elbow and he begins making a satisfactory howling cry of pain. Dick tackles me then, and the bottle rolls away. Underneath this heavy fat ape things begin going very wrong for me because I can hardly move and now Jarod's in a kicking frenzy; kicking whatever part of me he can reach while Dickhead's swinging short, hard punches into my ribs. I'm using both arms protecting my head from the kicks, but Jarod's boots are doing some damage to my arms and legs and I'm beginning to think I may have bit off more than I should have, then I hear a scream. I think it's from Jarod 'cause it sounded a little like the way he screamed when I hit him with the beer bottle, but I can't see much. Then I see Robby... and the expression on his face is one I've never seen before. I don't think I've ever seen him sincerely pissed off, but he appears to be pissed-off now. He's got Jarod by a fist full of hair pulling him backwards bending Jarod at the waist. As he slowly takes steps backward, pulling Jarod with him, Robby's wailing away at the kid's face with his free fist; blood sprays off Jarods face with every punch. Verris moves amazingly fast for someone his size; he's off me and up, going for Robby in a flash. I yell, "Behind you!" and Robby whips Jarod in a circle pushing him into raging bull. Both Verris and Jarod go down, followed by Robby's feet flying in a frenzy of kicks connecting to their heads, backs, and faces. He's not even looking at me, saliva's flying from his mouth as he's muttering, "You motherfuckers, how's this ya motherfuckers!". Finally Jarod rolls away from the pile as Robby concentrates on Verris who's covering-up his head with his arms, and slowly getting to his feet. Through the snow I limp over after Jarod to make sure he's done for the evening. Dropping down on his back with both my knees, he lies there in the snow grunting, then says something I haven't heard since grade school, "I give, I give!" his hands covering his face. I stand up, it's the honorable thing to do when someone surrenders, and then I kick the shit out of his ribs with three or four good, well balanced kicks; mocking him, mumbling, "Me too, I give up too!" Fuck honorable!

Getting my senses back I glance over to see Verris and Robby wrestling. Verris has Robby in a headlock so I run over and jump on his back taking Verris by surprise which allows Robby to break free and swing a great roundhouse punch getting Verris on the temple which wobbles him, then he stumbles a couple of steps with me yanking at his neck trying to choke him to death; he purposely falls backwards on top of me, then jumps up and comes after me growling and looking insanely dangerous. I'm backpedaling as Robby comes up behind Verris with a metal trash can lid in his hand, held like a shield, and starts hammering it on Verris' head. Robby's not into any particular set of fair-fighting rules and regulations either. Verris goes down again and now Robby's going nuts smashing that fucking lid on Verris's head. Watching in shock, for a second, then my memory registers that it was Robby who tried to kill that psycho Joel by sabotaging his ride-on mower a couple of years ago. He did it to protect me, although I didn't know it at the time. Frankly, Robby's out of control, he's in a dangerous rage that frightening me and I don't see him stopping the carnage unless I can get him to stop, so I'm on his back now trying to hold onto his arm, the one that's got the lid, yelling, "No! No! That's enough! Stop!!

Robby, no!" Robby has spit drooling down his chin as he twists his head around to look at me with eyes I've never seen before; scary looking eyes, I try for calm and quiet, "Please, Robby... you win. You saved me, please lets go before the campus police show up. Ya know, fighting on the campus could get us expelled." He nods his head like a zombie, drops the mangled lid on Verris' head, who's covered-up with his arms the same way I did when Jarod was trying to kick my skull in. Robby backs up like he doesn't know where he's at, and mutters, "Okay, okay... lets go," his face is quickly losing all it's color and I'm thinking the adrenaline in his system is probably draining away and it's going to make him sick to his stomach. Dick-head Verris is peeking out behind his arms seeing us backing away, so he begins sitting up, yelling, "You're a sick motherfucker, Dickers, and I'm gonna kill you the next time I see ya. You won't have no fucking trash can to save your ass next time.." He said more stuff but we're around the corner of the building slowly walking to the pickup, and can't hear it all. Robby seems totally unconcerned what Verris has to say anyway as he holds out the truck keys, saying, "You drive," then bends over and throws-up in the snow. I pat his shoulder, noticing a big rip in his winter coat, and blood on his sleeve. Another round of throwing-up has me looking away, 'cause it's gross! Taking a deep breath while standing there waiting for Robby to finish I'm just realizing how sore all over I feel, but it's nothing compared to how bad I'll feel tomorrow. Then I remember my favorite hat, my peruvian beanie has been left behind. Dammit! I look back but there's no way I'm going over there again tonight. Maybe they'll overlook it and I can rescue it tomorrow morning.

Robby's done vomiting so we get in the pickup and both begin quiet moaning and bitching about our aches and pains interspersed with outburst of hate for Dick-head Verris and his monkey, Jarod Mellincamp. I then go on a long thank-you to Robby for saving my ass and he's liking it that he's my hero. Laying against the door, out of energy, Robby's too exhausted now to even curse Verris as I'm telling him how awesome he is. After a bit, he says, "Dylan, when I saw those two doing a tag-team match on you all I saw was red, I completely lost my mind and went Middle Ages on their asses." I chuckle, knowing where that 'line' came from, then mumble, "Love that movie, don't we, Robby?" And we talked about how cool 'Pulp Fiction' is... we've seen it on cable three or four times. It's a relief to step away from fight talk, but let me tell ya, a fight takes a lot out of you, and of course it settles nothing, and as a matter of fact it often intensifies the bad feelings. If it's a fair fight among peers sometimes the combatants become friends afterwards... mutual respect kind of thing. This is a bullying situation though, much different. I ask Robby, "We gonna need to fight those two shitheads every time we see them?" He says, "Maybe once more, but maybe not. You know that thing about bullies basically being cowards and when someone stands up to them, they back down. Or more likely, they'll reevaluate the benefits they derive from bullying you and rationalize it away in their minds somehow. I don't care one way or the other... I kinda liked that fight." I'm glancing at him sideways as I drive, wondering if I should bring up the Joel incidence, but think better of it. As I'm pulling into our apartment complex, Robby asks, "How'd the fight start anyway, when I got out there when you were well into it?" I told him about it as we walk into our apartment. We both look very much like we've been in a fight, and like I said, tomorrow we'll have many hurting areas on our bodies to remind us of that fact. Robby asks, "Showers?" and I go, "Lets do it together." As we're undressing I thought about the three beers I had before the fight... would I have been as aggressive with Jarod if I hadn't had the beers? Many mysteries in our daily lives, and coincidences too. Yeah, like those two being in the quad on a Friday night. Robby and I have never been there on a Friday night, prior to tonight. My main concern is if the fight's gonna turn out to be a good thing for me, or a bad thing that gets worse and worse? Fuck, now I'm thinking I shouldn't have lost my cool...

to be continued....

Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com