DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION
Chapter 18
by Donny Mumford
My alarm goes off seemingly minutes after Ryan and I went to sleep. He's not in my bed now of course, but I didn't expect him to be. Turning off the alarm I lay here with a hangover-headache and general malaise trying to remember what happened last night. I have a weird scary sense that I fucked-up something last night, but what? Sure, I drank too much and alcohol always lowers my inhibitions and plays with my emotions. In that regard I recall feeling a lot of affection for Ryan last night, but what exactly I said or admitted to is vague which is probably the cause of my uneasiness. The things a person says under the influence of alcohol isn't binding in a court of law, or is it? Whatever, it shouldn't be binding in everyday life. Alcohol related confessions should be taken with a gain of salt. Whatever the fuck 'a grain of salt' has to do with anything. Anyway, the reason Ryan seemed especially attractive last night can be directly attributed to the fact I spent most of the night with the recent high school graduates, Jeff and Tim. They're okay, but they're immature. Compared to them Ryan probably seems like 'the man', or 'my man' maybe. Small doses of the boys goes a long way, especially when I had to be the 'adult'. Yeah well, I admit there were a few incidences when no adult type person was among us.
I've been here for two weeks now and at the moment I can't think of a single significant complaint I have about Ryan. I've enjoyed myself for the most part. After my time spent with Tim and Jeff I was happy to let Ryan take over and be in-charge. I relaxed letting him decide everything. Ryan rallied when we got home and he created a special end to the night for us. Initially he was ready to turn-in, but I found myself needing him so I enticed him to stay up with me. Maybe needing and/or wanting to be with Ryan has simply become a habit by now. There's more to him than I thought there was and more to the point, it seems he means more to me that I thought he did. Of course I don't know how much me being away from home may be influencing my feelings for Ryan.
Still, I've always thought he was an awesome sex-buddy, and this is not the first time I've wondered if I could fall in love with him. Hmmm, did I tell him that last night? I don't think I came right out and said it, but it may have been implied. He's usually very likable, and then he can also seems
vulnerable, paranoid, and just plain socially inept at times. Then other times he's deliciously dominant and completely in-charge. Maybe that's a good plus/minus combination of personality traits in that neither of us has an
obvious upper hand for long. Ryan's inexplicable social hang-up seems ludicrous when I think about it, but now that I've helped him by being a bridge
for him to meet guys, he's fine after that. It's the initial contact he sucks at. And then for his part Ryan's helps me with my two fetishes, and does that better than anyone ever has.
Tapping my bottom teeth with my finger, I guess I don't know what to make of all this. There's Jeff who claims Ryan's sexy as hell and would love it if he could be Ryan's submissive 'boy'. He even asked for Ryan's specialty haircut, like mine.That happened the first five minutes the first day he met Ryan, and then last night it seems Tim was competing for Ryan/Albert's attention. Huh, peculiar and sort of ironic that they're attracted to Ryan and not me. Of course I've been telling Ryan he's sexy and attractive from the first day I really got to know him. Well, maybe I didn't tell him right off, but I felt it. Now Jeff does too, and then that specialty haircut... that's mind-blowing right there. Seriously mind blowing, but I think it was Jeff's way of getting connected to Ryan so they could eventually get to know each other better. It makes me wonder why, but I don't finish that thought because I hear from Ryan's room, "Danny, you up?" I yell down, "Yes, I'm up, Albert," and get out of bed.
Thank god we bathed last night. Yeah, that bath was special, a dreamy sexually special time. Anyway, I do what I need to do in the bathroom, including taking three Advil tablets for my headache, then back in the bedroom I'm taking my Sunday church clothes out of the closet and laying then on the bed one by one. My jockey shorts, pressed suit jacket, slacks, my belt, tie, s ocks and shirt. Then, looking at my clothes on the bed, I say out loud, "Why the fuck am I laying everything on the bed?" Grinning to myself I realize this is the way Ryan gets dressed. He lays everything out first while I always put things on as I take then off hangers or out of the bureau. 'I'm too easily influenced'. I smell the back of my hand a few seconds, then stop doing that, saying out loud, "Dougie Hamilton!" That's who I copied that habit from. Fuck!
Dressed, I go down the secret staircase to Ryan's bedroom just as he's coming out of the bathroom wearing only boxer shorts. He smiles, "How's your head, Danny?" I say, "Hurting, how 'bout you?" He's laying out his clothes on the bed making me smile, as he mumbles, "My headache's not too bad. When I left you last night I took some Advil, and then some more when I woke-up." Tucking his shirt in, he grins, "Nice bath last night, huh?" I nod, then say, "Um, I hope I didn't come on too emotional, or overdo anything." He shakes his head, "No, we're cool. You were drunker than me because I slept two hours in the Mini while you continued partying." I'm smelling the back of my hand again, feeling a buzzing in my underwear. It's like a tiny vibrator's in there feeling good. I say, "Ha, I was just thinking back to when you'd have me comb your pompadour for you because you couldn't do it?" He gives me a strange look, "Yeah, what made you think of that?" I shrug, "I don't know. I guess I liked doing it for you," and he says, "Well, you can tie my tie for me . I can't get the knot looking like yours." I say, "I've told you how to do it three times already." He mumbles, "Yeah, I know, but I want you to do it." Standing behind him with both of us looking in his full length mirror, I tie his tie." Then I hug around his neck and kiss the side of his face. Our eyes meet in the mirror, his extra blue eyes with the tinted contact lenses shine back at me, but he doesn't say anything.
I take his suit jacket off the bed and hold it for him, he grins putting in one arm, then the other. "How's my hair look, Danny?" Still standing behind him looking in the mirror, I reach around and swipe my fingers across his forehead ruffling his short bangs. They stick up slightly because of the two small cowlicks on either side of his hairline. I cut his hair so it'd stick up a little like this. I say, "This is a cool haircut for you." Turning around, he says, "I know," and kisses me on the lips. He hands me his last year's 'birthday' Bible, picks his newer one up and holds out his free hand. I lift my hand and he holds my hand we go down the wide first floor staircase. Side by side, dressed in suits and ties, a Bible in his right hand, and one in my left hand, with him holding my free hand pulling me against his side. I'm proud of him, he's got a lot of guts and determination about his gayness, and about attaining his parents full support about it. He's still holding my hand as we walk into the kitchen. His mother and father are in their usual places at the table. They both look up and his father rolls his eyes, mumbling, "Boys." His mother smiles, saying, "Aren't you two a handsome couple." Ryan lets go of my hand and kisses his mother's cheek, saying, "Good morning and thank you." He makes us mugs of coffee, saying, "Daniel and I are ready whenever you are. We'll be outside in the gazebo."
Outside It's another gorgeous Georgia morning. Ryan looks at me nodding his head towards the gazebo, then holds my hand again and we walk there with me getting that strange sense of being younger than I am. Sitting on the bench smoking cigarettes and drinking our coffees, he says, "After church, and then lunch at the country club, we've got baseball practice." I nod, and he adds, "After practice that cute little, double-talking, Timmy's, coming home with us so I can give him a haircut. I've got the hots for him as you know, so I'm thinking after his haircut I might take him on my motorbike to the waterfall. You'll need to find something to do on your own. Take the Mini if you want." Huh, am I'm jealous? I guess a little, as I mumble, "Sure, Albert, whatever you say, but I hope you won't be gone too long," and I flick my barely smoked cigarette butt a good ten feet, "A cigarette is the last thing I need with my hangover." He looks angry, so I'm like, "What?" and he goes, "Go get that butt and put it where it belongs." Getting up I mumble, "Sorry," and get the smoldering cigarette out of the flower bed and stick it in the ornamental vase we use as our ashtray. Taking a deep breath, by dick buzzing, I drink the last of my coffee, pouting a little. He asks, "What's wrong now?" and I go, "Nothing, I should have had a big glass of orange juice, that's all." He quietly says, "Don't pout. You know we don't flick cigarette butts in the flowers," and he give my shoulder a squeeze. Setting my empty cup on the bench I glance at him and he gets an arm around the back of my neck pulling me to him. I'm leaning over partially against him, my arm across his tight belly, his chin against the side of my head. He pulls my head down so the side of my face is laying on his chest and my body's stiff for a second and then I relax against him. He casually runs his fingers in my very short hair and this is nice, it feels good laying on him so I hug his side. He runs his cheek against the short hairs on top of my head as I inhale his very familiar personal scent. It's nice cuddling with him. Ryan makes me feel safe, and comfortable, and taken care of, like I don't have a care in the world and there's nothing I need to do until he tells me too. Robby can be like that at times too.
It's peaceful, this is peaceful and totally relaxing. With the side of my face on his chest and his arm around me, I murmur, "You were, um, brave I guess I'd call it, walking into the kitchen holding my hand this morning." He says, "Yeah well, I told you I'd be doing that, if you remember. Anyway after last night I felt it was about time my parents began seeing the affection we have for each other." I go, "Your mother said we were a handsome couple. She said 'couple' as in girl and boy, or boyfriends." He goes, "Yeah, she's being wonderfully supportive, but that mostly because of you." I ask, "Why do you say that?" He shrugs, "Mother likes to outdo everyone: have the nicest house, the nicest car, nicest cocktail dress with brands names like Burberry or whatever. She wants everyone to know how stupidly expensive her stuff is." I ask, "What's that have to do with me?" He snorts, "You're gorgeous and polite, and if her son has to be gay, well she'll show my boyfriend off," and Ryan imitates his mother's voice, "My Albert's boyfriend is prettier than your son's girlfriend." That gives me the creeps. "Don't say I'm pretty, that gives me the creeps." He rubs my head roughly this time, "Hey, I'll say you're pretty if I want to." I shrug, "Oh, I don't care. It's okay if you want to call be pretty, I guess." He says, "You're my 'boy', I'll call you whatever I want." I go, "I know," and grin as my dick moves in my pants. My submissive fetish is good for getting my dick feeling sexy. He goes, "Mother brags about you. She told both of us she was showing your picture around the country club, and I know both my parents love that I'm in-charge of our relationship, and for that I thank you a million times over."
Mrs. W. calls to us, "Albert, we're leaving." I sit up, then straighten Ryan's tie and kiss his lips, "You're the special one, Albert, not me." He doesn't overdo the hand holding, walking to the car without doing it. He made his point and realizes too much of it would be overkill, and I give him credit for that. We walk around the garage to the idling car and get in the backseat with our Bibles. On the way to church his parents talk together about a wedding they'll be attending in Virginia next weekend. Mrs. W. turns her head to say to us, "It infuriates me my sister insist on a small wedding for my niece. No children she said. I told her my son is twenty years old, he's not a child." Ryan says, "That's okay, mother, we don't want to go to the wedding anyway. I'm glad I wasn't invited." His father mutters, "I wish I wasn't." and Mrs. W. hits his arm playfully, saying, "Don't tell me that Junior, you're looking forward to playing golf with Walt. You love that golf course." he mumbles, "Yes, Cynthia." Church this Sunday is very much like church last Sunday except I didn't have a hangover then. Having a hangover made this week's service seem longer, and then after church Brad doesn't fuck me like last Sunday. Ryan and I stick together through the entire social hour after church.
We talk with Brad a little, but he needs to leave early. He feels bad about hooking Jeff up with old man, Ollie, and he apologizes saying his only excuse is... he was drunk. That's the foolproof excuse at college too, 'Gee, dude, my bad, I was fucked-up doing beer pong, so ya know, sorry about trashing your dorm room...'. When Brad leaves, Jeff wanders over to join Ryan and me. He does the one arm hug thing with both of us and we talk about the baseball team and then a friend of Jeff joins us. Jeff introduced him to us, and us to him. He's another church member who I recognize from Bible study, which Jeff doesn't go to. This boy's another average looking guy a year older than Jeff. He lives next door to Jeff and they've been friends and neighbors for years. His friend, Paul, rags on Jeff about his haircut, but he doesn't say anything about mine. Jeff points to Ryan as his barber. One thing leads to another and finally Paul comes right out and asks Ryan why he was such a loner at Bible study until recently, and Ryan tells him, "Poor judgement on my part, Paul. I'm retarded socially at times." I'm not sure if Paul took that as Ryan being a smart-ass, or as the honest confession it was. The fact Jeff obviously likes Ryan seems to be good enough for Paul, and he's very friendly. He jokes about maybe Ryan giving him a haircut like Jeff's, but I can tell Paul's neither serious about that, nor gay.
When Paul drifts away Ryan, Jeff, and me talk about other reactions Jeff's heard about his 'specialty haircut'. Some of his descriptions of what people say gets us laughing. Jeff rubs his own head, saying, "Fuck 'em all, I like this haircut," and Ryan hugs Jeff's shoulders, mumbling, "Thanks, dude." Then, naturally, we talk about last night at the gay club and we get to laughing and exaggerating things... it's funny even with my hangover. Jeff seems more mature this morning. The last thing Jeff says is, "Um, Albert, all kidding aside. You know, um, when can you and I, um, ya know get together?" Ryan seems uncomfortable, glancing at me, then saying, "Text me sometime today and we'll work out something." Jeff nods his head, then nervously says, "Danny taught me to make-out, so ya know, if you want to do that...." Ryan gives him a shoulder hug, mumbling, "We'll see." When Jeff walks away I'm mad at myself for not checking Jeff's lap to see if he sprung a boner. I say, "You got yourself a problem, boss. You want to get in Tim's pants and Jeff wants you to get in his." Ryan nods his head, "Yeah, ironic isn't it? I'm not sure how to handle this. It's never happened to me before. What would you do?" To avoid answering, "I'd punt."
Before he can react to my non-answer his mother waves at us that they're ready to leave. Ryan and I jog over and get in the back seat with our Bibles. During the ride to the country club Mrs. W. wants to know what we thought of today's 'message' from the minister. I manage a few comments, but mostly I wasn't listening to it. Ryan surprises me by discussing the sermon with his mother, quoting parts of the Bible to back up his viewpoint. His mother finally says, "I think you're right, Albert, I misinterpreted that part. What do you think Junior?" He monotones, "I think Albert's right too." At the country club Mr. W. wants to arrange a golf foursome this afternoon with his wife and another couple, and they end up eating lunch with Jeff's parents. They'll be the other part of the foursome I suppose. As we eat I see then glancing over at Ryan and me. They're obviously taking about us and I wonder what they're saying. Could they know their son, Jeff, is gay even though he doesn't think they do? As for Ryan and I, we're quite happy eating lunch alone. Our conversation consists of the one we ended with in the parking lot regarding Jeff and Tim being sexually interested in Ryan. Ryan claims it's hard to believe he's getting all the attention from those two, but at the same time he seems sort of proud about it. He also emphasizes it never would have happened if I weren't here. He's right, it wouldn't have, but where's that leave me?
Ryan finishes his BLT, saying "Before this thing with Tim and Jeff I can't ever remember a cute gay guy being remotely interested in me, especially if they could have chosen you. And now it's actually happening with not one, but two gay boys." I go, "Yeah, I hear ya, but there's no accounting for the taste of these Georgia hicks' where gay young men are concerned. The gay boys are much more sensible and discriminating back east." He laughs, then says, "I love you. I know this is happening because of you. I'd never even have met these guys if you didn't meet them first. You met Brad, than Timmy, which led to me being invited to try out for the baseball team where you enticed Jeff to our dugout." I go, "And he got one look at you and was smitten." Ryan says with a grin, "He wants me to be stern with him." I ask, "What's Tim want?" and Ryan says, "I'm guessing he wants to be with a gay guy other than Bradford." I go, "He also has a 'thing' for you," and Ryan goes,
"Nah, he has a thing for Jeff, and now Tim's getting the same haircut Jeff has because then they'll have more in common." I shrug, "Who knows what they want or think, but they already have a lot in common. They're the same age and they graduated high school together. Plus, they knew each other pretty well in school." Ryan says, "Whatever, I'm glad the haircut thing is spreading because I like giving these haircuts. I'll do Tim's today and then next Saturday all three of you will need haircuts." I go, "We won't need them, but you'll be doing them anyway." He goes, "I like that 'just-cut' bristly look. Your hair's already beginning to lose the spiky look because your hair grows fast." I tell him, "You won me over. I won't complain about the haircuts, I'll just be one of your 'boys' getting scalped by 'our man'." He goes, "Well, you are just one of my boys," and he laughs at how things are turning out for him. It is pretty fuckin' unbelievable.
Ryan smells the back of his hand a few seconds, then asks, "Do you think I really am 'your man'? I mean for real." I nod my head, "If you say so, it doesn't matter to me what you call yourself. What's that even mean anyway?" He goes, "Well, actually I don't say I'm your man. You're the one who's said that. As far as I'm concerned we're boyfriends. We're equals in everything." and then he chuckles, adding, "Except I'm in-charge." I grin, "Yeah, except for that." If we weren't in a public place I'd give him a kiss. Lately everything about Ryan is attractive to me. Once he got over the shock of being introduced to Brad and Tim, he's been handling himself very well with other guys we've met. He acts normally once he feels comfortable with someone, it's the 'meeting' part he sucks at. We hang around in the parking lot smoking after lunch waiting for his parents to finish their cocktails. I'm asking for suggestions of what I can do when Ryan's with Tim at the waterfall. He says jokingly, "You could take the Mini and sneak up on us watching me fuck him." I'm like, "I probably won't do that."
We both flick our cigarette butts and they cross in midair. I go, "Um, you've seen Timmy naked, so what do you think of his pecker?" He shakes his head, "No, I haven't seen him naked, why?" I go, "You saw him naked at the club when you fucked him. I should have told you about his two-inch dick so you wouldn't be startled when you first saw it." Ryan laughs out loud, then says, "You told me last night he fucked you. How'd he do that with a two inch cock?" I go, "Are you out of your fucking mind? You watched us fuck, are you saying you didn't see his dick?" He shrugs, "Not that I remember." I shake my head, then say, "That's hard to believer but him fucking me was a pretty interesting experience, and kinda hot too if you can imagine that. You know what? He'll probably be the one who wants to fuck you, not the other way around. He's tired of being Brad's bottom." Ryan doesn't believe a word I'm saying and he laughs again, then mumbles, "You bull-shitter. You're just jealous of Tim. No eighteen year old boy has a two-inch cock. It'd be impossible to even feel that thing up your ass." I shrug, mumbling, "It's thin too, heh heh," then ask, "You seriously don't remember?" He shakes his head, "I was fucking him, not looking at his dick. I didn't notice, or I blacked-out. Anyway you're exaggerating, nobody has a two inch dick." Can I believe this shit? Oh fuck it, I just shake my head. After all I don't remember half the things I said at the bar with Ryan, so he apparently was too drunk to notice Timmy's dick.
We get called to the car for the ride home, so I leave the topic of Tim's dick for now. Mr. and Mrs. W. probably wouldn't believe me either. At home Ryan and I change out of our church clothes and put on t-shirts and shorts, then the bibs with our numbers on them. Joining Ryan in his bedroom he flips me his baseball cap from prep school. He's wearing his Merrimack baseball cap. Going down the steps, I say, "It's nice to be able to wear a hat again." Ryan goes, "Yeah, but only when we're doing baseball stuff, the rest of the time I want me, you, and everyone else seeing your Albert's specialty haircut." I mumble, "Yes, boss, but please don't start referring to yourself in the third person." He drives onto the school's parking lot, saying, "Albert likes referring to himself in the third person." I go, "God help me."
At the baseball diamond one of the coaches leads all of us in fifteen minutes of calisthenics and we jog around the entire field before breaking up into positions. I'm with Ryan in the outfielders group. Five of us are spread out in the three outfield positions handling balls hit out here by the coach, just like we did yesterday. The kid with a million freckles on his face turns out to be an arrogant braggart. He bitches openly about being a back-up player, a left handed bat off the bench. He tells me, "If you're a back up outfielder I should be in triple professional baseball, that's how much better I am than you. I was high school all-state in my junior year." I say, "Tell it to somebody who gives a shit, Ricky." He goes, "Fuck you, pretty boy." He's also a ball hog, cutting in front of guys that the ball's hit directly at. Ricky looks like a sweet kid with too many freckles, when in actuality he's a ginormous asshole. Jeff calls over to him, "Hey, Freckles, If you cut in front of me one more times I'm going to remove six freckles from your face." Ricky walks up to Jeff, face to face and they yell at each other until the coach calls us in. He gives a speech about being a team, and there's no 'I' in team, and team chemistry is almost as important as team talent and blah, blah, blah. Nothing original.
We have long turns at bat in the batting cage with coach logging-in the result of our every swing of the bat. I guess they're trying to figure out a batting order. Ryan hits line drive after line drive and then when it's my turn they switch pitchers and I get the black ace of the pitching staff. I don't hit for shit off him. Ricky replaces me in the batting cage smirking at me, mumbling, "Give it the fuck up, you couldn't hit little league pitching." I go, "Tell it to somebody who gives a shit." That retort worked for me earlier so I'm sticking with it. Ryan takes me aside for a pep talk. "Nobody's doing much hitting off this guy, Danny. I noticed you're looping your swing," and he gives me a batting lesson. The next time I'm in the batting cage there's a different pitcher, and remembering Ryan's batting tips, I'm back to hitting some pretty good line drives. Afterwards Ryan pats my back, saying, "Better, you were really smacking the ball around to all fields!" That makes me feel good. It's nice having someone look out for you and rooting for you. I root for Ryan too, and Jeff. The practice goes on for over two hours, twice as long as we expected. It was fun though, and we meet a couple more of our teammates, none of whom I picked-up any gay vibes from, and none especially hot looking or cute. They're mostly average with three I
kindly categorize as 'not good looking or even remotely cute'. Freckles isn't the only asshole here, there are a few big egos on the team. There's also a small clique consisting of three of the pitchers who are bully types. Big guys with loud voices spouting out unfunny insults with the three of them the only ones laughing. In other words, the eighteen teammates are a cross section you're likely to find in any group of eighteen. Ryan, Jeff, and I are our own clique with the back-up fourth infielder, the quiet type, lurking with us. Then there's Tim, who's not on the team, but joins us for breaks He's our cheerleader. This leaves Freckles on the outside looking in. Not that he gives a shit. He's basically using all his spare time brown-nosing with the coach.
Jeff's like Ryan's puppy dog, never more than arm's length away, which leaves Tim resigned to second choice, meaning me. As we drink pop in between turns in the batting cage, Tim asks me, "Do you think I did alright last night fucking you?" I look around quickly, "Could you keep it down a little, Timmy? It's nobody's business but our own." He goes, "I hear ya. Tell me the truth, how do you think I'll look after Albert gives me his specialty haircut?" I shrug, taking off my hat, "You'll look like this." He says, "Just between you and me, Jeff looks dorky with that haircut, but you don't, and I don't think I will either. Whaddaya think?" I say, "Dorky is a fairly subjective word. What's dorky to one might be cool to another." He goes, "Ya know what your problem is, ya never give a straight answer to a question. Do you think I'm cute?" I say, "Yes," and he goes, "That's better. You gave your opinion for once." I like looking at Tim who's acting more like an eighteen year old today then he did last night. I ask, "You and Bradford have any plans to get it on, so to speak?" He says, "I'm more into topping now since doing you twice last night. The better question is when are you and me gonna get it on again, so to speak."
Huh, I guess I wouldn't mind that as a quickie, except Ryan has other plans after Tim's haircut. I go, "You and me, huh? It's hard to get away since I'm almost always with Albert." Tim goes, "He's like your, um, fucking boss, huh? Brad tries to be like that with me, but fuck that." Tim is noticeably less whiny with me and I think it's because he's topping me when we fuck. I say, "Literally he's my boss at work. Ryan's the boss of six guys. And I guess figuratively it's true other times because he is sort of in-charge being I'm living at his house." He says, "Right there. That's what I mean about you never answering a question directly. Fuck, I don't even understand what you said with all your 'figure this relative to that', or whatever it was you said. That's not cool, it annoys people... just saying." I give him a smirky 'look', and he goes, "I'm serious, that's asshole activity." Trying not to laugh, I'm like, "You'll get this same way at college. It's college speak." He says, "I'm not going to college. My grades blow so I'm joining the Marines." I go, "Well, you'll have the haircut for it." He mumbles, "No shit." Tim's got a cute mouth with hot bow-shaped lips that are kinda full, but not too full, just right for kissing, I ask, "Are you into making-out with guys?" He says, "No, I told you that before. Why, do you want to make-out with me?" I grin, saying, "Yes,"and he goes, "Well, forget it, but at least you gave me a direct answer." He also has thin perfectly shaped eyebrows. Some guys inherit thick eyebrows or bushy ones that fuck-up their appearance. What doesn't fuck-up Tim's appearance is his nose. I'd like to pinch it, so I do. He goes, "Ya like my nose, don'cha?" and I say, "Yes," and we both laugh a little. He goes, "You have a perfect nose too and, um, it's fun hanging out with you even if I don't understand your Yankee speak half the time." I ask, "Are you aware Albert's got a 'thing' for you?" He says, "Yeah, you alluded to that before but I didn't know if you were breaking my balls or not. It's hard to tell when you're serious." And then Skip, the manager, blows his whistle and I get back to practicing and Tim gets back to watching.
After practice Jeff and Ryan are quietly talking together, probably making plans to hook up. Then Ryan drives us home with Tim following in his car. Ryan says, "Um, don't you think it'd be good if you and me had separate activities occasionally. I don't want you getting bored with me." Could he be more obvious? He obviously wants time apart to fuck around with Jeff, who I surmise wants to be Ryan's slave boy. It's probably an appealing idea to Ryan. I go, "I haven't been bored with you since we left college," and he goes, "I was thinking of our arguments during the ride down here. I attributed that to us being together 24/7 and I'd like to avoid that happening again." I'm like, "I'll go along with whatever you suggest, Albert, you're in charge." He nods, "Good. Just an occasional break from me will do you good." I mutter, "If you say so."
At the house Ryan sends me for the barber equipment. With his arm across Timmy's shoulders, giving him a few reassuring hugs, he leads Tim into the garage. When I get back Tim's sitting on the stool with his shirt off. He has some baby chest hairs but not enough to turn a guy off, or on. Ryan's running his fingers through Timmy's preppy hair style, telling Tim, "You'll need to be here Saturday mornings, every Saturday morning when I'll give my boys fresh haircuts." Timmy nods his head, and I ask, "When ya joining up, Tim?" Ryan asks, "Joining what?" and Tim goes, "After this summer I'm joining
the Marines." Like Jeff, Tim seems much more mature than he did last night. Mature for an eighteen year old I mean. He's a tough talking kid who can't back up the words he says because many statements sound like questions. I'd like to be a fly on the wall in his barracks at Parris Island. I lay out the clippers and stuff the way Ryan's likes it, and then hop up on the long table, the one that shouldn't even be in a garage, to watch the haircut. I'm thinking it might give my haircut fetish a little thrill. I'll say this about Ryan as a barber, he has no doubts or hesitations. I'd feel it necessary to ask for reassurances the guy wants this extreme haircut, but Ryan takes it for granted and he gets right into it. With the bare clippers running in his right hand he pushes Tim's head roughly to the side with his left, holding Tim's head over like that he runs the clippers all the way up the side of Tim's head and a big bunch of brown hair slides off the back of Ryan's hand drifting to the cement floor. Before it hits the floor Ryan's already running the clippers up Tim's head again next to the first cut. He does it fast, but after the first run it's already too late for Timmy to change his mind, so what's Ryan hurry?
The look in Tim's eyes tells me he's having severe second thoughts about this. He looks scared and I don't blame him. That's how I was during the first couple of haircuts Ryan gave me like this. He's literally cutting all the hair off your head leaving only a little batch on top that's a mere quarter inch in length. So much hair is falling to the floor by the time Ryan finishes with the back of Tim's head, it's given me a boner. Then, without hesitating, Ryan runs the clippers across the top of Tim's head at the crown with three inch long hairs falling to the floor. It's obvious Tim's very uncomfortable now and he goes back to his whiny, meek persona, "Please, not as short as Jeff's, okay, Albert?" Ryan says, "It'll be exactly as short as Jeff's, and please don't talk while I'm cutting." Yesterday I could see Jeff
becoming more and more docilely submissive during Ryan's dominant haircut,
but Tim's the opposite. He gets determined, pushing Ryan's arm away and hopping off the stool feeling his head, yelling, "No, goddammit! Not as short as Jeff's! No more cutting on top of my head." I say, 'Feels like sandpaper up there, huh, Tim." Ryan's just standing there looking at him. Tim looks silly with one side and the back of his head nearly shaved and longish hair on the other side, along with most of the long hair on top. My dick's been buzzing along with the clippers while watching the haircut and wishing I was the barber instead of Ryan.
Tim's looking at himself in the handheld mirror, pissed-off now and not meek at all, saying, "This is fucking shorter than either Danny's or Jeff's." Ryan's grinning smelling the back of his hand as the clippers continue running in his other hand making their unique sound. Ryan says, "If you're done
fucking around, Timmy, get your ass back up on the stool." Timmy says, "You heard me, Albert. Not any shorter on top." That came out of his mouth sounding like a whiny, 'I'm resigned to you cutting the top anyway you want'.
Tim sits back down on the stool and the first thing Ryan does is run the clippers further forward on top of Tim's head and a large pile of hair hit's Tim's shoulder with half of it skidding down his back and the other half ending up in his lap. A big batch of three inch hair and Tim's defeated. He says nothing the rest of the haircut. When Ryan's done it looks just like Jeff's and mine except Ryan used the bare clippers further forward on top of Tim's head, and he tells him why he cut it shorter. "I'm sorry, Tim, but I purposely cut your hair shorter on top because you gave me some shit about it. Next Saturday if you just sit there with your mouth shut I won't do it like this. Okay?" Tim's submissive now. He's defeated and resigned to Ryan's wishes. Ryan asked, "You okay, Timmy?" He gets off the stool feeling all around his head looking embarrassed, like we all do at first, as he says, "Yeah, I'm okay, you're the boss, Albert."
When Ryan chooses to be dominant I've never seen anyone do it better. He does it without sounding especially nasty about it, and in fact he apologizes and explains why he did whatever it is he did. My dick is so hard I don't dare get off this long table because my boner would be too obvious. Ryan hands Timmy the dust pan and brush and tells him to sweeps up his own hair. The hair on the floor is at least ninety-eight percent of the hair that five minutes ago was attached to his head. With Tim's head almost shaved I see he has an excellently shaped head. Better than Jeff's, but not as good as mine... ha ha. I'm feeling oddly good that I'm not the only guy in Marietta with Ryan's specialty haircut now. And I feel good seeing other guys being dominated by Ryan, and not just me. That makes me feel sort of validated that
it's not just me who reacts submissively at times to Ryan. He has a knack for it.
Then Ryan does what he's good at, he sort of makes-up with Timmy rubbing his head telling him he looks good, then hugging Tim's shoulder saying, "Don't be grumpy. I did mostly what you wanted." Tim says, "I know, I know. It's just new and I need to get used to it." Ryan goes, "How about we take your new haircut for a ride on this," and he pulls the tarp off his motorbike. "Cool!" goes Tim. Two minutes later Tim's wearing 'my' helmet, the one Jeff used, sitting behind Ryan. Ryan does a wheelie out of the garage with Tim squealing and holding Ryan around his waist, the side of his face on Ryan's shoulder. I watch them go, pulling at my pecker through my shorts, then take my time cleaning the clippers and putting everything away. I take the toiletry kit to the basement and when I come back upstairs Mr. and Mrs. W. are coming downstairs dressed for golf. Mrs. W. asks, "Was that Albert's motorcycle zooming away?" Mr. W. mumbles, "Motorbike, Cynthia." I go, "Yes, ma'am, it was. He gave Tim Dulson his specialty haircut and now he's taking him for a ride." Mr. W. shakes his head slowly in amazement, as Mrs. W. says, "Well, if you leave the house, please lock up behind you, dear," and she kisses my cheek on her way out. It was so unexpected I blush hot and red, but they don't see it.
Going to my bedroom I call Robby and talk to him for fifteen minutes. He tells me Danny officially quit, like Robby suspected would happen. Danny was missing his parents even though they aren't talking to each other. Rob's hired his replacement and now he needs to train him the same way he just finished training Danny. He's pissed at Danny, saying, "Fuck, Dylan, I don't know what I ever saw in him in the first place." I say, "Danny's cute and he's a sweet guy, Rob, a good guy." Robby says, "I guess, but I miss you, baby. I'm all fucked up without you, and Jeff says the same thing." I mumble, "I know, I miss you guys too," and then he wants to know how things are going for me. I tell him things are okay, trying not to express how good things actually are for me here. He asks about Ryan and I keep it general and neutral, rather than my true feelings which are all positive. I mean I just witnessed Ryan being sexily dominant with Tim and that gave me a boner. Robby says, "It sounds like you're doing okay, and I wish I were. Dad's got me involved in the big project as well as my regular supervisory job and I have hardly any free time. I think that's why Danny got tired of staying with me. He was on his own so much of the time. Your brother tried to include Danny in stuff outside work but most of that was co-ed, if you know what I mean, and Danny wanted nothing to do with it.
We spend ten minutes exchanging vows of love, and I don't feel the least bit guilty because my love for Robby is so sincere and deeper than anything I might be feeling for Ryan. When we say goodbye I'm homesick again so I call home and talk to mom for twenty minutes. Then I run out of time before I can call Chubby because I hear the motorbike's mufflers roaring up the drive. I look out the window and see Ryan's still in the driver's seat. Yesterday Jeff was driving when they came back. Then I think, they couldn't have gone to the falls and fucked because they weren't gone long enough. I go out to meet them and they're both all smiles, whatever that infers. Where could they have had sex? Maybe they didn't. Ryan's still sitting on the bike with Tim standing next to him now. Without thinking I walk up and put my arm around Ryan's neck leaning down to kiss him on the lips. Take that, Timmy. Ryan smiles, "Thanks, Babe," and Tim says, "Guys kissing is a turn-off to me." Ryan goes, "Ya don't say," as he puts a hand behind my neck pulling my head down for another kiss, a ten second open mouth kiss. Tim mutters, "Gross," but he's sort of grinning.
We talk for a few minutes about their ride. Their description doesn't include anything that sounds like they could have fucked. They didn't stop anywhere except to get ice cream cones. I'll find out the truth from Ryan later, he doesn't lie to me which is one of the reasons I trust him. Tim's gotta get home so he takes off. Ryan's walking the bike into the garage and as he's covering the bike with a tarp, I ask, "So, how'd it go?" Ryan says, "It didn't, unfortunately. You were right, he wanted to top." I ask, "Did you see his dick?" Ryan laughs, "The mystical two inch penis? No, we didn't do anything. I wouldn't let him top me and he said something about me lusting after him, so if I want to have sex with him I'll give in. He says he's done
being a 'bottom'." I laugh, and Ryan adds, "You turned him into a 'top' is what he said," and he chuckles, adding, "I don't blame him either. Once someone gets his dick in that one-in-ten-million ass of your's, nothing else will do." I put my arms around his neck, "He doesn't know what he's missing, Albert." Ryan grins and I say, "Okay, yes I'm begging for it again. Your parents are slicing shots into the woods on the golf course, so..."
Ryan's beaming, but playing hard to get. "What? You want me to fuck you here in the garage?" I nod my head and lean in for another kiss which turns into a doozy of a kiss with lots of tongue and me keeping our faces together with my arms around the back of his neck. Ryan's squeezing my butt cheeks kissing in the way only he can, getting my boner painfully stretched and uncomfortably confined in my cargo shorts. The kiss breaks with both of us gasping for air but I don't let go of my hold around his neck. Our faces slide
together with me murmuring in his ear, "You've always turned me on, Albert, but lately it's been crazy how hot you get me." Ryan lets out a long breath, saying, "Tell me you love me, but only if you mean it," and with my lips on his ear, I murmur, "I love you Ryan/Albert." He says, "It's Albert/Ryan Wilcox the third, to be exact." I go, "Him too,' and Ryan says, "Thank you." We do passionate kisses for a few minutes with both of us making whining sounds of desire near the end. I'm feeling relief for finally being truthful to myself and Ryan. It's love. I am in love with him and it's not fair of me to pretend I'm not, while at the same time my conversation with Robby proves to me it's a different feeling of love I have for him than the one I feel for Ryan. It just is, but I do love Ryan.
Turning me around, gasping, Ryan's as aroused as I am, "Get your pants down," and as I do that I hear his zipper coming down. My hard boner flops up and down once it's freed from captivity, then it sticks straight out, all six inches like a molded steel cock. Ryan's chest is against my back with his long hard cock pointing up my ass crack as he reaches around to stroke my cock, whispering, "I'm too aroused to mess around. We'll do a slow lovers fuck tonight in your bed, but this is gonna be hard and fast." I feel drools of precum from his boner slide slowing down my left butt cheek. He lets go of my boner and takes hold of his moving it down in the drool of precum, then it's at my asshole and inside me just like that. I see nothing but red flashes as the pain surges with his cock pushing up, up, up my ass all eight fat inches of it. Someone screams and I guess it was me, but now I'm holding my breath with Ryan's groin tightly against me. He's going, "Shhhh, it'll be alright," as he's trying to settle me down after ramming his big cock all the way up my ass. He's lightly rubbing the palms of his hands up and down my chest and stomach, while kissing the side of my chin, murmuring, "You'll feel fine in a minute."
Less than a minute later, "Shhh, you okay now, Danny?" and the pain reduces, then reduces some more as my rectum gets the fucking message finally and relaxes after that abrupt intrusion. My body got tense with the pain, every muscle clenched, but now I begin relaxing, and relaxing some more, and then it's like I feel a glow as the hint of pleasure comes over me and tears come to my eyes from relief. Then that hint of pleasure blossoms and totally replaces the pain and the transformation is remarkably sexual. I'm completely relaxed now as Ryan whispers, "That wasn't so bad, was it Danny?" I go, "Uh uh," and he says, "I can't even begin to describe how much sexual pain and pleasure that gave me shoving my boner right up there, bam! I've fantasize about being dominant enough to push my boner right up your ass, all the way up in one motion, and we just did it." That was dominant alright, and I feel appropriately submissive to Ryan, murmuring meekly, "It wasn't that bad, and yes it was very sexily dominant of you, Albert." He quietly mumbles, "Which you love, right?" I quietly say, "Uh huh," as I'm thinking that almost anyone would feel submissive having their ass plowed confidently with a huge cock like Ryan's. How else could you feel when someone mounts you with a huge boner and drives it straight up your ass in two seconds? You're certainly not feeling dominant when you're basically helpless and in pain, and then two minutes later you're captured by the incredible pleasure sensations flowing from your rectum, balls, and cock. Ryan can do that any time he feels like it and I won't complain.
He's made me feel submissive in a deeply sexual way and doing it in the most awesome manner. I'm hoping he fucks me really hard like he said. I feel fortunate to be dominated the way Ryan confidently does it now... always his way and without hesitation. And then there also a deliciously loving undertone I sense from him as well. For maybe six months now, and especially here at his home, he's being extra dominant at times. He does it for my benefit, not his. With me Ryan's come to prefer lovers sex that's soft and slow and goes on for much longer then hard dominant sex. Both extremes, and the different ways in between, are all fine with me. When I ask him to have sex with me I'm not thinking sub/dom sex necessarily, I just feel a need to have sex with him and I'm content to let him decide how he wants to fuck me. He's decided how he's going to do it for quite some time now. Sometimes when we're into it and he's got me incredibly aroused I might say, 'Fuck me hard' or something like that, but Ryan decides. And I need to give up my contention that it's all 'just a game to me' because it's real, Ryan is in-charge and I'm good with that.
With his boner fully impaling me and his body tightly against my back, his left arm go around my stomach holding me against him. Then his free hand grabs my chin pulling my head to the side so he can kiss me on half my lips, then lick the half of my the face he can reach, and then murmurs, "You've always turned me on, but saying you love me, and saying it with true feelings has taken desire for you higher than I thought possible. Oooh, you are so
special, and you're mine." As if to prove it, moving only his hips, he does four long hard and fast thrusts in my ass, then stops, dropping his forehead to my shoulder moaning, "Aaaaah, I almost climaxed, oooh." He breaths deeply a few times, then with the palm of his hand on my forehead, he pulls my head back to his shoulder which gives me a slight claustrophobic sense. With his cock impaling me, my head held back tightly on his shoulder, and his arm around my waist I feel I can't move and a quiet whine escapes my throat. Hearing that he pulls my head back further stretching my neck and again moves only his hips doing full eight inch trusts back and forth in my ass as my back arches as if I'm trying to move away from his thrusting, but nothing could be further from the truth. The sensations sparkle in my rectum getting so intense arching my back was an involuntary reaction from my body, but now I'm pushing my ass back and holding it still for his fast thrusts up my ass. No more concerns about claustrophobia. My brain's absorbing the sexual sensations each of these fast hard thrust that his big hard sex organ are causing, and I'm moaning in pleasure constantly. The moaning is involuntary also, I can't not moan at the pleasure.
The sounds of males fucking is muted by Ryan's shorts since his cock is just out through the fly, but those sounds are the only thing missing. It's constant unbelievable stimulation from my rectum creating too much sexual pleasure to comprehend and putting me in a dizzying private world of pleasure that no words can do justice to, and I want it to go on forever. I see in my head his boner pulling out until just part of the head is hidden inside me and then the long fat hard cock quickly disappears inch by inch inside me, the head tightly making the eight inch voyage spreading the walls of my rectum, sliding tightly over my prostate gland and stimulating the sensitive lips of my ass hole for a constant cacophony of sexual pleasure that seems to ring in my ears. There a subtle wet sound as his hard cock slides up inside me spreading his precum while the stimulation on his cock causes it to swells even more, the head of his cock swelling the most. My own cock is doing the same. An increasing need to climax builds and builds in me as I continue picturing his boner pulling back shiny with precum and then back up my ass it goes as I moan his name and then, "Albert, ahhhh," followed by a squeal from me as my body thrusts forward and cum streaks from my cock shooting straight out. My mind goes blank for a second as another stream of cum shoots out leave me shaking with Ryan grunting and humping against my buttocks shooting his load of semen into my bowels. Grunting with more humping against me and I guess shooting more cum inside me, then he stops and I feel his chest heaving against my back as Ryan takes deep gasping breaths.
After half a minute he says, "I thought my fucking heart stopped when I climaxed. Swear to god, it scared me. What a climax!" I can't reply because I'm still feeling all kinds of tasty little buzzing sensations around my groin making my shoulders do their little shudder. Ryan's rubbing my head doing longs lazy thrust up my ass now, about ten delicious long trips up my super sensitized rectum before pulling his big sloppy cock out, "Whoa, that was excellent, babe," and "SMACK! SMACK!" on my ass splattering some of the cum that drooled out. He wipes his hand on the tarp covering his motor bike, then gives me a hug, "You alright, Danny?" I nod my head saying, "Uh huh, I'm still enjoying my climax." He chuckles as he wipes my smacked ass, "God, your buttocks are shaped so perfectly. You're a freak of nature, babe, a good freak of nature, a perfect one." I mumble, "Thanks, I think. Um, that was a really good fuck, Albert, really, really good." He pulls my underwear up leaving his handkerchief caught in my jockey shorts at my asshole so it'll soak up some of his cum that's still drooling out. He says, "I've gotta be on my sexual A game with you, Danny. Now that I've got you in love with me, I gotta make you happy so you'll stay in love with me." He never mentions Robby, which is smart of him because he knows he needs to keep the focus on us. I ask, "You gonna do everything I want to keep me happy?" He says, "Well, um, no, just the opposite, babe. I'm going to be more in charge than ever because that's got me this far." I grin at him, "You don't have any idea what you're doing, do you?" He laughs, "No, but I'm going to keep doing it," and we hug, giving each other a smiling kiss.
I'm feeling the back of my shorts to see if his cum has soaked through yet, asking, "What'll we do now?" He says, "I guess we better get cleaned-up for dinner." We do that and have another very good dinner and this one is without any rancor from Mr. W. who seems in a good mood talking to Mrs. W. about the stock market and especially about their Apple stock portfolio, then Ryan and I clean up the kitchen after dessert. He makes me mop the kitchen floor twice, saying, "Danny, you're not the least bit lazy, but you're content with an 'okay' job. I want as perfect a job as possible, and that's what I want you to want. Okay?" He said it all nicely, with a smile, so I say, "Yes, Albert," and that gives my dick a thrill. Ryan tells me we're not going out tonight. He just fucked me so awesomely I don't want to go out either with hopes of more. We lay on his bed watching a movie on HBO. He has his arm around the back of my neck and I'm mostly on my side laying against him, the side of my neck on his shoulder with my arm across his stomach. Every once in a while he kisses the side of my head or gives me a hug. As the credits are rolling there's a knock on his bedroom door. He goes, "Come on
in," and his mother opens the door, sees us cuddling like this and smiles, then says, "You're on your own for dinner tomorrow night boys, there's money on the kitchen table. Have a nice dinner some place. Good night." We say good night to his mother and then make-out getting aroused again. We go up to my bedroom and get in bed naked, then Ryan as promised, does a slow lover's fuck with us face to face, my legs pulled back and it's just an awesome sexual experience, deliciously sexy.
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com donnymumford@outlook.com
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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for next to nothing. (Or buy the 'print' version.) The books are under ten dollars. They are about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.
Donny Mumford
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