DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION
Chapter 27
by Donny Mumford
Okay, I'm adding Rex to Georgia's cock-teaser list. I've run into three legitimate and tantalizing cock teasers in the The Peach State and I've only been here a month. Rex goes on the list along with Bud and Dog. I'd love to have had a little friendly side-sex with all three of them, and if we had more time together who knows. Number one candidate would be Jefferson 'Bud' Morgan. Anyway, we're still at the garage bar where Robby and I dance together a couple of times. Then he's like, "Oh fuck it, Dylan, I'm just not a good dancer." Actually I thought he was dancing better tonight. As we're walking back to the table, I tell him, "You're getting better! You just need to dance more. We'll practice when I get home later this summer, okay?" He nods, "Yeah, practicing in private so I don't feel self conscious." Robby joins Chubby, Spider, and the girls at our table while I go to the bar for another round. On the way back with the drinks I glance at Rex's table and see the boys are playing some kind of drinking game. They're whooping it up pretty good, but then this is a raucous joint with or without drinking games. A lot of good ol' country boys and gals. Is 'gals' even a word? Whatever, I kinda like the cowboy-ish clothes some of these guys are wearing. A cowboy hat makes some guys look cuter in the same way wearing a hoodie with the hood up makes a young guy look sexy and cute.
It's quarter after one already and beer is sloshing around in my stomach, so I'm like, "Hey, Millie, what time does this place close?" She says, "Four o'clock, sweetie." Oh man! "Four o'clock, really? Jesus!" Chubby and Spider had a head start with the beers at the fair and again here at the garage bar, and it's finally catching up with them. They're both slurring their words so I look at Robby who shrugs, like, 'Whaddaya gonna do?' Yeah, we've only got the one rental car. When Dolly Parton stops laughing at whatever Chubby just said to her, I ask, "Hey Dolly, do you think you could drive those two drunks home? Rob and I want to take off." She goes, "You're cute as a button, darling, but fuck that. Come on and dance with me." Oh balls! I get up and we do a slow dance as she tells me, "Millie and I are going on a road trip to see our Framington boyfriends next month." I mumble, "It's Framingham, not Framington." She giggles, and says, "We'll find it." This is nuts! These girls just graduated high school so they're only eighteen! I ask, "Your parents don't mind you girls drinking, staying out late, and traveling all over the country?" She looks at me, touches the end of my nose with her finger, saying, "Baby, you simply don't want to know too much about Millie's and my families." Huh!
When we get back to the table we find Chubby's fallen asleep. His head's resting on his forearms that are crossed on the table. I look at Spider and nod at Chubby, like... What's up with that? He says, "Jeff's napping." How the hell could he fall asleep with all the loud music and yelling in here? I say, "Fuck it, we're leaving," and shake Chubby's shoulder, "Come on, bro, time to hit the road." Spider says, "I'll stay with the girls," and Robby says, "No you won't! You're coming with us, Spider," using his 'boss' voice. Well, he is Spider's boss at work. Spider shrugs, "Okay, yeah, sorry Millie, but I gotta go." Chubby sits up and looks around. He's groggy, mumbling, "What? Is it my turn for another round already?" There are half full bottles of beer on the table. Rubbing his shoulder, I say, "We're leaving, Chub, nobody needs another round of anything. That's the last fucking thing we need." Spider gives Millie a big wet open mouth kiss while feeling her up and she's grabbing at his crotch. Disgusting! Then Robby helps me steer Chubby to the door. The last glimpse I have of the girls is them moving over to
Rex's table with Millie putting on Charlie's cowboy hat and sitting on his lap. One of the other guys at the table has his hand on Dolly's ass. Guess the girls are nothing more than a couple of country and western sluts. Ha ha.
Spider gets in the back seat with Chubby. Robby's doing the driving with me trying to remember directions. Of course we get terribly lost, finally finding a twenty-four hour gas station. As I'm filling the tank with gas, Robby's getting directions from the clerk behind bulletproof glass. The guy's directions get us even more lost. During the entire drive both Spider and Chubby sleep. Robby put the top up before we left the fair grounds so we can talk. We talk mostly about us. A great deal of our conversation is a rehash of things we've said earlier this weekend regarding me, Ryan, and Robby. It's a drunk confirmation of everything we've already discussed two or three times, but when alcohol's involved we tend to repeat ourselves. Somehow things seem to have a deeper meaning when one is under the influence. We both have little crying jags professing our love, crying jags that would embarrass the shit out of us if we were sober. We don't even care that we're totally lost. Eventually we find the motel by blind luck. Robby goes, "Fuck! I should have turned there. I recognize that supermarket." Ignoring that, I go, "So, you're definitely going to get off work the weekend I'm back home, right?" He ignores that, asking, "Do you think I should make a U-turn?" and then there's our motel. Robby goes, "Oh, there it is. I thought this was the right road." I mutter, "You said you wanted to make a U-turn."
It takes some doing getting Chubby and Spider to wake-up, and then getting them out of the car. Robby and I have a couple of chuckles as both boys bump into things going up the steps to their room. When we get then inside they both flop on their beds without undressing. Going down the stairs Robby and I are giggling, saying shit like, "Do you think they'll brush their teeth before going to sleep?" or Robby asking, "What are the chances one of them pees his pants tonight?" Silly shit like that. We're a little bit drunk ourselves but manage to get undressed and then brush our teeth standing next to each other naked. We get under the shower together leaning against one another as we wash ourselves; then, after sort of drying ourselves we get under the covers naked. A few goodnight kisses and the next thing I know I'm awake and it's a bright sun-shiny day outside. I have a pounding headache and an upset stomach from all the junk we ate and drank yesterday. Muttering, "Oh fuck," I stagger out of bed cursing myself for forgetting to take Advil last night. In the bathroom I swallow three Advil cupping water in my hand from the sink's facet to swallow them, then sit on the toilet for a piss, too tired to stand-up for that little necessity. My watch reads: 6:13, so it's back to bed for me.
I wake-up again to the sound of a woodpecker tap, tap, tapping on something. No, it's not a woodpecker, it's someone tapping on the door with something metal. I try making out what the person's saying but they have a heavy accent. It finally dawns on me it's a housecleaning lady saying, "Excuse, please, housekeeping." I yell, "Come back later," which causes the drum in my head to go, boom, boom, boom! Fuck! The tapping stops, but my yelling wakes Robby. "Oooh, what time is it?" Looking at my watch I'm startled to see it's ten-forty. I tell Robby and he mutters, "Oh God," and gets out of bed heading for the bathroom with me staring at his bare ass. Really nice ass on my boyfriend! Over his shoulder, he mumbles, "Check-out is eleven o'clock." Well that pisses me off! Check-in isn't until three in the afternoon so it's stupid that check-out is ten or eleven in the morning. That's just not right! Sitting up I'm waiting for my headache to pound again, but all is relatively calm. I don't feel great, but I don't feel horrible either. Fuckin' Advil are awesome! Pulling on clean shorts, underwear, and a t-shirt, then throwing the dirty clothes and my sneakers in the bag, I look around the room for my sandals. They're under the bed and when reaching down to get them a little drum pounds in my head, but not too loudly. Okay, a deep breath while I look around the room checking for anything I missed. Guess I got everything I came with so I go in the bathroom to wash my hands and face.
Checking on Robby's, I see he's shaving. "Robby! Why are you shaving?" He goes, "Um, oh, I forgot, Dylan. Anyway I don't have that beard trimmer thing you told me about." Watching him for a couple of seconds, I ask, "Why do you shave your cheeks? You don't have any whiskers there." He shrug, "I don't know, Dylan. Jesus, my head's about to split in half, don't nag me, okay?" I nod, "Did you take Advil?" He goes, "Yeah, I took four." Grumpy! Bringing my toiletry kit with me, I pat Robby on his bare ass, telling him, "I'll be outside getting some fresh air." Carrying all my stuff outside and sitting on one of the deck chairs I consider a cigarette, then veto that idea. It's friggin' hot and humid this morning, but no longer sunny. Looks like rain which maybe will cool things off a little. The cleaning ladies are two doors down pushing their cart of bedding, towels, and cleaning paraphernalia. Huh, I realize we never changed ours sheets after the sweaty hot sex Robby and I had yesterday afternoon. Oh well, last night we were too tired and drunk to notice the scratchy patches of dried cum on the sheets. So, no problem...
Five minutes later Robby comes out carrying his travel bag, asking, "Heard anything from the guys?" Shaking my head I text Chubby. The text is delivered, but not read. "They're still sleeping and the cleaning ladies won't get to the second level until they finish all the rooms down here. Lets get coffee and maybe some pancakes." A mile down the road there's a country diner doing a brisk Sunday morning business. We get a booth and order coffee, then look at the menu. We both decide on the triple-play platter. Two over-easy eggs, two buttermilk pancakes, and two slices of thick cut bacon. It comes with toast and grits whether you want them or not. It's a southern law I think, grits must be served with every meal. Fortunately there's no law requiring you to eat them.
While waiting for our breakfast platters Robby's staring at me while annoyingly twisting his coffee mug around on the table. I finally ask, "What?" and he says, "Not to beat a dead horse, but I'm kinda concerned you're going to go right back to Ryan and forget everything we've talked about Friday night and yesterday." Swallowing some coffee, I mutter, "Damn good coffee. Um, why would you think I'd forget everything you and I agreed on?" He shrugs, "Because, lets be honest, that's what you did almost as soon as we met at the airport. You forgot everything you and Ryan agreed on. Within an hour you were throwing all Ryan's and your plans in the shitter." Nodding my head a few times, stalling and initially a little pissed-off at that remark, then realizing he's right, I say, "Ya know what? You're right. If I were you and our situations were reversed I wouldn't have much confidence in you either. You'd never be in my position of course, would you? That's a compliment by the way." Robby starts to say something, but I hold up my hand, "No, wait. I need to regain your trust. I need to earn it by confronting Ryan and telling him it's your plans I'm going with. I'm probably going to make Ryan think the same thing about me that you're thinking: that I'm a flighty air-head who can't make-up his mind, and then when I do make up my mind I don't stick to it. That's not 'me' anymore though. My plan for this sojourn in Georgia was to grow-up, to mature during this summer. Well, a month with Ryan followed by a weekend with you has shown me I haven't made any progress with that." Robby shrugs, "Don't be too hard on yourself, Dylan. We've all made bad choices." I says, "Yeah, but whatever I say about matters of the heart doesn't carry much weight right now, so my actions will need to change that perception of me. I'm going to stop playing games and act my age, which ain't all that old to start with, but ya know. Anyway, you'll see." He's nodding his head still twisting his mug on the table, then he mutters, "Okay." I reach over and grab the mug as our breakfast is delivered by a much too cheery waitress.
No talking while we eat, just some eye contact and a few grins. Done our breakfast, waiting for the check, Robby says, "I believe you, by the way." It's my turn to nod and say nothing. What I'm going to do is tell Ryan I was childishly enjoying having two lovers, both of whom want to marry me. The truth is though there's only been one lover in my life... Robby. I need to admit to Ryan it was unfair of me to let him think I was considering living my life with him, or that we might get our own apartment at Merrimack, or any of the things we talked about. I simply wasn't being honest with myself which unintentionally, without any malice of forethought, means I wasn't being honest with him either. Totally my fault, but my heart belongs to Robby. To infer I might change my mind about that is fooling myself. I'm sticking with Robby, period. So I need to apologize to Ryan for misrepresented my fantasy feelings. And, I'm going to do that in a way that doesn't hurt his feelings, and in a way that we can still be friends. So, that's my plan and now all I need to do is figure out how I'm going to do it.
After paying the check we're outside walking to the car as Robby looks at the sky, muttering, "Hot," and I go, "It always is here. Earlier I thought it might rain, but then the sun's out." No further weather talk from Robby, but I have another, "You've had a lot of rain this summer, haven't you?" He nods, "Yeah," and stops walking, taking hold of my arm, "Um, will you call me after you talk to Ryan? I'd like to know what he says." "Sure, I'll call," and we lean over for a quick kiss, then walk to the car with an arm around each other's waist. Another kiss at the car followed by head nods and grins, so we're good. Robby drives us back to the motel and on the way he asks, "How's your hangover? Any better?" I go, "Much better, how 'bout yours?" He shrugs, "Surprisingly, not too bad." I go, "Do you think we've talked all we need to about Ryan and me?" He says, "Yeah, pretty much," and I go, "Now it's up to me to put up or shut up." He goes, "I believe you. Lets talk about you and me," and we do, specifically about the possibility of Robby joining Chubby and me in Wildwood. I go, "You need a vacation! You've been working your ass off," but the more we talk about the possibility of him taking a week off, the more impractical it seems. So we agree we'll see each other in three weeks, with Wildwood a long shot. As we park at the motel I'm wondering how Robby and me are going to have our 'goodbye' sex. We were too hungover when we woke up.
The maids have already made-up our room for the next occupants, so we sit on the deck chairs outside the door and try having a cigarette. I'm like, "This cigarette is bringing back my headache," and Robby looks around, muttering, "I wonder what the hell is keeping Chubby and Spider. It's almost noon." Then I grin hearing Chubby's voice above us trying to convince one of the cleaning ladies that check-out time should be the same time we checked-in. He's claiming his friend is ill and needs more sleep. The two cleaning woman speak very little English which makes for an interesting conversation. Chubby gets to laughing and one of the cleaning ladies begins laughing along with him. I yell up, "Bro, let them do their job!" He hangs his head over the railing, "You're back, Dylan! I'll be right down." Then I hear him say, "Here's a little something to show my appreciation for the wonderful way you set up the room for us yesterday." The ladies are full of thanks, Chubby tells them, "I'll get my stuff out of there in a little, okay? Um, why don't you do the next couple of rooms, do this room last." He comes bouncing down the steps to give me a hug and a kiss, saying, "I've got the Grand Canyon of all headaches, bro. How ya doing?" Then he bumps fists with Robby, "You guys have breakfast already?" I go, "Yeah, what'd you tip the maids?" He shrugs, "Ten bucks each. I had to buy some time for Spider. He's in the head throwing up, and he has the shits." I shake my head, "Both, huh? That's
gross!" Chubby takes my cigarette and sucks a drag off it, then goes, "Oh fuck! I shouldn't have done that. I'm fucking dizzy now," and he laughs shaking his head. Everything's funny to Chubby.
Chubby pulls a chair over from the next room, saying, "Well, bro, you and me haven't had a chance for our heart to heart talk yet." Then to Robby, "You guys have your talk?" Robby chuckles, "Jesus, Jeff, you'll make Dylan think we're ganging up on him." I go, "You guys been talking about me behind my back again?" Chubby rubs my head, "Yeah, bro, but only in the best way because we love you." The three of us rehash how things are going for me here in Marietta. Chubby asks, "Ya want me to beat-up Ryan?" I laugh, "Absolutely not!" Fifteen minutes later Spider weakly walks around from the steps looking white as a ghost. He pulls a chair over from next door, moaning, "I didn't know whether to shit or throw-up. I'm hoping off the toilet, then hoping back on it. Ya think it was something I ate?" Chubby says, "Maybe, or maybe it was the case and a half of beer you drank yesterday." They moan about their hangovers for a few minutes then Chubby and Spider get there stuff from the room and we drive back to the diner. Robby and I get coffees while Spider and Chubby order breakfast.
As they eat their breakfast we try to come up with something we can do until their four o'clock flight back to Boston. In the end we decide there isn't enough time to do anything worthwhile. Final decision: they'll drive me back to Ryan's instead of having him pick me up at the airport. Robby and Chubby decide against saying 'Hello' to Ryan. They'll drop me off at the driveway and go straight to the airport. They're both, once again, dealing with
killer hangovers so they aren't in the mood for chit-chatting with Ryan, or God forbid, his parents. I email our plans to Ryan who texts back that I can make Sunday's ball game. Thinking about seeing Ryan, I'm not feeling too nervous about telling him that the plans he and I were discussing aren't going to happen. Meeting Robby Friday night I was a basket case, but I feel sure of myself now. Having the uncomfortable talk with Ryan feels to me like a chance to do the right thing, and act responsible in a way that more closely approximates my age.
During the drive to Ryan's there isn't much talking. Robby and me are again in the back seat with the Mustang's top down so it's too noisy to talk and the boys in the front are dealing with, like the song says, 'Sunday morning, coming down'. Coming down off their huge Friday night and all day Saturday beer loads. I feel for them because I've been there, done that, and it's no fun. It's about forty-five minutes before we're driving down Ryan's street. I point out the correct driveway and Spider pulls in and puts the car in neutral. Chubby and Robby get out of the car with me for hugs 'goodbye'. A kiss between Robby and me, "Call me, Dylan, okay?' and a couple of pats on my shoulder as I nod my head, "See ya soon, Rob," and to Chubby, "Love ya, bro." I walk around the car to bump fist with Spider, who mumbles,"You rock, Dylan. See you in August." "Yeah, Spider, see ya." Robby holds out his hand for me to slap as they drives past me with a final wave and they're gone. Anticlimactic goodbye, but that's probably best. I watch the car drive out of sight, then turn around and look up at the Wilcox's big house. After taking a deep breath I carry my satchel up the driveway towards the house
and Ryan.
When I walk around the bend in the driveway there's Ryan just coming out the side door of the house. He's in his baseball uniform, but the shirt's unbuttoned. Grinning at me he gives me a goofy little wave of his hand. He's looking as sexy as ever. Ryan's actually become very nice looking with his scraggily short beard. I guess I sort of miss those little round glasses he used to wear though. Huh, I'll probably always have the hots for him, and as proof of that when I walk right up to him my dick firms up. He smiles, "Hi there, Danny. Did ya miss me?" I have trouble looking him in the eyes at first, but force myself to, "We need to talk, Albert." He puts his hand behind my head and pulls my face to his for one of his special wet sexy kisses. My arms go around him inside his shirt, more from habit than anything. His hand goes up the back of my head knocking off his Merrimack baseball cap I'm wearing. He holds my head between his hands, his lips on my right ear, "I'm not surprised to hear you say we need to talk, babe," and another quick hard kiss on my lips. Then with a smack on my ass, he says, "Get upstairs and put your uniform on." Inside the house, walking through the kitchen towards the stairs everything looks very familiar, but it feels fraudulent for me to be here. Ryan follows me to my third floor bedroom, saying, "You can give me the bad news later." He's making me nervous as he stands there giving me a hard stare. I pull my t-shirt over my head and drop my shorts kicking them near the hamper, then look over at Ryan.
He's still got the stern looking stare going for him, saying, "I can't believe I'm gonna do this, but come here!" When I step to him he kisses my lips again and I kiss back as his sexy scent fills my head. I'm oddly feeling nervous now, but my cock gets like stone. After the kiss he squeezes my buttocks and says in my ear, "I've missed you a lot. Your brother and Robby probably talked you into a change of heart about some of our plans, didn't they?" I shrug without disputing what he said, and he goes, "See, I knew. I understand you." I look down, and he puts a finger under my chin lifting my head, "No, no, don't worry about it. It's okay for now." Then we kiss again with our teeth scraping together, his tongue in my mouth, our bodies seemingly melding together, our arms around each other. My cock is a steel rod as he turns me around and pulls my underpants off my buttocks. I hunch my ass up for him and he smacks it hard, "SMACK!" making me yelp quietly, but I'm used to that and keep my ass up to be mounted. The head of his boner is at my asshole pushing against it lightly with me gasping and laying back against his chest. His hand goes to my forehead pulling the back of my head against his shoulder. "That's my boy, tight against me. You smell good," and he does a long lick up the side of my face as his arms go tightly around my waist just above my scratchy pubic patch. He groans quietly while slowly pushing his hard fat boner up my ass. My back arches with pain bubbles popping in my head and red stars bursting behind my eyes as I let our a low groan, "Oooow." It hurts but then fades within a minute and I relax laying against him getting extremely aroused from the way his big cock fills me up back there. Ryan coos in my ear, "Good boy, Danny," and humps against my butt cheeks a few times almost lifting me up on my toes.
Oh but it feels so good having my rectum stretched like this! I can't help but moan, "Oooh, mmmm, yeaaaah, Albert, that feels good." Kissing the side of my neck he pulls his cock back with me making a hissing sound at the pleasure sensations sizzling in my rectum. A million nerve ending around the lips of my asshole are firing off all at once making me arch my back again, "Aaaah, oooh." Pulling his boned-up cock back until the fat bulbous head distends my anus, almost coming out entirely. Oh God, it feels so good I moan again, "Mmmm, oooh," as my shoulders shudder with another moan of pleasure, "Mmmmm, oooh." Now my body begins shuddering all over so he tighten his arms around me and begin pushing his fat wooden cock back up my ass with a final hump against my buttocks. My cock is a hard six-inch-long stone sticking straight out as Ryan pushes roughly behind my head, muttering, "Bend over and grab your knees." As I do that a drizzle of precum drools out of my cock and my shoulders shudder again with me moaning, "Ah, ah, ooooh." "SMACK SMACK!" rings out as the palm of his hand whacks my butt cheeks, sliding from one to the other. Grabbing my hips Ryan begins fucking me steadily and the awesome, "Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds of male fucking bombards my ears. Bursts of pleasure sensations making me tightly close my eyes and moan in deep sexual pleasure. There's nothing that feels as good to me as being fucked up the ass by someone who I like, and who knows how to fuck. Ryan's only got one arm holding me against him now as he knows I'm not going anywhere. And he most certainly knows how to fuck me good and he's doing it right now along with a loud, "SMACK!" on my ass with the palm of his hand every couple of thrusts of that big hard boner of his.
Full eight inch thrusts up my ass, his long fat cock traveling over my prostate with me trembling with sexual pleasure. I'm thinking about nothing except how good this feels. "Slap, slap, slap," smacking his groin against my pink buttocks and then "SMACK!" as his hand smacks my ass with that awesome boner of his stimulating every nerve ending in my rectum from my anus to my prostate to the walls of my bowels. Ryan's grunting now and thrusting faster, "Slapslapslapslap," as my orgasm builds and me writhing with sexual pleasure even as my butt cheeks sting from his hard smacks. Ryan's fingers dig into the skin of my hip as he pounds his cock up my ass. So much sexual stimulation in less than five minutes my body gets stiff as a board and I hump my hips squealing at the sensations from the long stream of cum shooting straight out four or five feet from my wide open quivering pee slit. Gasping and glancing down I see the engorged head of my boner is almost purple. A second later Ryan gasps and I feel him fill me up with his creamy spunk. I squeal again with another shorter stream of cum tantalizing the head of my cock causing my whole body to shudder and shake. Ryan humps more of his spunk up my ass even as some of it's drooling out and running down my ass crack to the back of my balls. Buzzing sexual sensations all around my belly down to my groin and inside near the top of my legs. Pulsating sensations bringing on another body shudder with my eyes blinking and then I'm drained and my body goes limp. Ryan is almost holding me up as he does long thrusts in my cum-saturated ass before pulling his still partially hard cock out, "Get around here and suck my cock."
In a pleasant submissive haze from being fucked so dominantly I turn around to drop to my knees and take his sloppy semi-boner in my mouth. I'm sucking and licking on that thing until saliva is running down my chin and I've sucked his cock into another hard boner. He murmurs, "Ooou, that feels good," he pushes my head back, goes up on his toes and his engorged cock goes down my throat inch by inch with me gagging until his pubic hairs surround my nose and mouth. A long, "Oooooh," from Ryan as my throat relaxes a little so I get my gagging under control. Ryan presses his crotch against my face while rubbing my head, then pulls his boner back slowly. Just before the fat head hits my throat's gag reflex spot he leans forward again and his boner goes down again with the fat head bulging out my Adam's apple on it's way by, then again when it's coming back the other way. Five thrusts in my throat before he pulls it out entirely. A string of saliva attached to the head breaks free to slide down across my chin. Ryan goes, "Mmmm," and then, after a deep breath, he mutters, "Doggy fuck," and I drop my hands to the floor pushing my ass up. Grabbing my hips he mounts me from behind and fucks my ass with my back arching and me doing one long whining moan of deep sexual pleasure until my hips hump again and I gasp as three spurts of watery cum plop out of my hard cock to drop onto the throw rug. I almost faint at how good it felt. Ryan groans and moans as he pulls his cock out leaving my asshole gaping open, then "SMACK!' on my ass with him exclaiming, "Whoa! That was great, babe! Holy shit, I needed that!" I'm still on all fours, my head hanging between my arms as waves of sexual pleasure slide over me and then I'm left gasping deep breaths, but very sexually satisfied.
Cum rolls down the back of my legs as Ryan says, "Okay then, welcome home, Danny." He walks into my bathroom, saying, "Clean that cum off the floor, Danny, and then I'll help clean the cum off your ass and legs. We gotta kinda hurry now if we don't want to be late for the game." Getting up unsteadily my shoulders doing another little shudder as the last of the nerves endings in my rectum fizzle out. I'm plucking one of Ryan's pubic hairs from my mouth as he hands me a wet washcloth. Taking it, I'm feeling docile and submissive, my ass still wide open and feeling good even though my buttocks still feel hot and sting. A smug smile on his face, Ryan asks, "You okay? Did you forget how it feels to be fucked really good?" Still feeling submissive, I nod my head and take the washcloth. Another deep breath and then, back on my hands and knees, I wipe up my cum shots reliving in my head that excellent dominant sex Ryan just laid on me. It's almost like, what happened? I was at the back door and now I've been fucked awesomely, sucked Ryan's cock, and was fucked again! I don't think I've said five words since seeing him. Ryan's effervescent, "Great having you home, Danny. You look good. Ya know, I was out with Jeff last night and all I could think of was you coming
home today." After throwing the washcloth in the hamper, my underpants, sho rts, and t-shirt follow. When I walk naked into the bathroom, Ryan says, "Turn around and I'll get some of my cum off your ass and legs." I bend over with my hands on my knees, and as he's doing that he goes, "What the fuck, babe, say something!" I mumble, "That was a really good fuck," and he laughs out loud. "Thanks, but I don't think for one second it's the only 'really good fuck' you've had this weekend." I've got nothing to say to that. Ryan gives my ass another hard smack, "SMACK!", then "Get your uniform on and we'll take off."
Putting on underpants and then my uniform some submissiveness lingers because of the way Ryan does everything, and I can't fool myself, it does feel really good. Yeah, but now I have something recent to compare it to, meaning the way I feel being with Robby. Occasionally Robby will get bossy too, and I do sense a little taste of my submissive fetish with him. Even when I don't though it's always really special just being with him. It's a whole other thing with Ryan. So much more real with Robby, although impossible to describe. As a second choice, sure I could be happy with Ryan, frequently enjoying this sexy submissive sense. Even without that though I'm happier with Robby so, ya know, it's a matter of degrees of being happy and contented. Then there's the 'love' factor of course. I can easily see the difference now that I've just experienced Robby's casual/intense love. Sounds like an oxymoron, casual/intense, but somehow it's not. Robby doesn't need to put any more effort into loving me than he needs to put effort into breathing. That's because his love for me just is. It's there like the universe is there. Can't explain it any better, but I know it's incredibly wonderful to be loved like that and I would never give it up for the submissive feeling Ryan gives me. Ryan thinks he loves me and maybe he does, but it's not a pure natural love, one he doesn't even need to think about. Okay, I can't articulate it even to myself, but there's a difference and Ryan's love is simply not like Robby's love, and that's all I know, or need to know.
Ryan buttons his uniform shirt and watches me put mine on as he's saying, "You'll have to talk eventually, won't you?" I shrug, "Um, yeah, of course. It's nice to see you again, Albert. I thought of you and, you know, thought of the plans for us that we were thinking about, and..." He interrupts, "Not now, Danny. We'll get into all of that later, no worries though, babe, we're going to be fine." Nodding my head I go, "Okay, I just, um, you know, I hate to use this hackneyed phrase, but I hope we can still be friends after our talk." I'm being real serious, but Ryan laughs out loud again, then says, "Jesus, that says it all, don'cha think?" Frowning, I go, "This is serious, Albert, I take our relationship seriously." He rubs my head, "Yes, it's serious and I'm not making light of it, but the way you said that, it just struck me funny." He gives me a hug, "It's just that a guy would normally use that hackneyed phrase after he's dumped someone, not before because it gives everything away." I mumble, "I'm not dumping you, I'm, ah, adjusting or realigning certain things, um, certain things we've talked about." He's smiling and smelling the back of his wrist, then says, "And I'm telling you it's okay. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or awkward about whatever you want to say. Just save it for later, not now. Time will tell what you finally decide. Okay?" I nod, "Yeah, okay, but I'm not changing my mind." He grins, "Yeah sure, okay, but later. We have a baseball game we need to think about."
Going downstairs he's telling me about the ride-on mower breaking down yesterday when he was doing the front lawn. I'm sort of listening, but mostly thinking how easy Ryan's making it for me to back-out of the plans we were making. I mean, it's good of him, but unexpected. I guess I'm not sure what it means and I'm almost disappointed he's so easily okay with dropping our plans. Was he even serious about them in the first place or does he think he'll have my mind turned around again in a few days? Huh. We walk outside carrying our baseball gloves, he asks, "You wanna drive?" I shake my head, "No thanks, unless you want me to," and he goes, "No, your choice." We get in the Mini and he starts the engine as I mumble, "We had a Mustang convertible for the weekend." He nods, "That's cool," and as he's backing the Mini out of the garage, "Tell me something, Danny. How come the boys didn't drive up and say hello to me?" I lie, saying, "They're late for their plane, but they said to tell you 'Hi'." He goes, "The pricks! How long does it take to say hi!" Well yeah, but I'm not gonna touch that.
At the baseball field we get out of the car just as Logan Duran is getting out of his car. He gives me a big smile and we do the one arm hug with me saying, "Freckles, how'd it go on the bench without me yesterday?" We've gotten kind of tight and I call him 'Freckles' as a nickname. He calls me Danny Boy, like Dog does. "Danny Boy, let me tell ya, it wasn't boring at all because I wasn't on the bench. I played yesterday. Jeff had something he had to do so I got the left field and had a double and a sacrifice." Ryan pats Logan's shoulder, telling me, "He sacrificed Terry to second and Chubby Bell knocked Terry in to win the game." I give Logan a half-ass high-five, muttering, "Ya lucky prick." Ryan goes over to talk to a player who's name I've forgotten, and Timmy Dolson comes up for a hug, saying in my ear, "I called you Friday night, Danny. You missed out on a good fuck." I go, "Sorry to hear that, Timmy. Um, hope we can find two minutes sometime for a rain check." And I do too. Tim's two inch boner is hot! He says, "Yeah, me too," and Skip, the team's manager, calls all the player into the dugout, which isn't actually a dugout. It's a bench behind a waist-high chain link fence. He's psyched because we're tied for first place. We get a pep talk and then the players take the field as Freckles and I stay on the bench along with the pitchers and the other back-up infielder, Bo.
Timmy's not on the team so he's sitting in the small bleacher section with about two dozen other spectators. Freckles is telling me about every play he was involved in yesterday. While listening to him I find myself looking at Ryan in centerfield. Basically I'm comparing my feelings for him now to the way I felt about him when he dropped me off at the airport. He's still sexy and hot, and I really like him, but it's not love. It's definitely not love because it's a very different feeling that I felt for Robby the past couple of days. It seems so obvious to me now that it's a friendship love I have for Ryan. I think he's a special friend and the perfect side-sex buddy, and I do mean perfect. Hard to imagine a better side-sex buddy than Ryan. He might love me for real or he might be confusing what being in love is all about. I mean, he's never even thought he was in love until he met me, so he might think it's love until he finds someone he truly falls in love with. Or maybe he is in love with me and if so there's nothing wrong with that as long as he knows my love is not going to be returned. And that's what I need to make clear to him. Then maybe we can continue with sex as usual without the misplaced words of love from me. I'd rather not hear them from him either.
Freckles knows I'm gay because I told him I am. What the hell, he asked me and I said, "Yeah, I'm gay," although I didn't tell him about anyone else being gay. So, on the bench, he feels free to touch me in playful ways, like squeezing the back of my neck, asking, "Do ya ever dream about having sex with me?" I flip his baseball cap off his head quietly saying, "Only every fucking night when I go to bed. You're hot, Freckles, and you have a cute ass." Picking his hat up, chuckling, he asks, "What's your hottest fantasy involving me?" I'm like, "Jesus, Freckles, I don't wanna tell you because you might get all hot and bothered yourself." He pinches my lips from the side with his forefinger and thumb, mumbling, "How many dicks have been between these sexy lips of yours?" Bo, the big back-up infielder, grumbles, "Will you two homos knock it off?" and Logan grabs his junk humping it at Bo, "Ya want some, Bo?" It passes the time, that is when I'm not looking at Ryan and testing my feelings for him. I have more feelings for him than I had before this summer. I kinda love him as a unique sort of one-of-a-kind friend. Ryan and I have almost as much history together as Willie and I, and I consider Willie a good friend. A very unique one too, like Ryan. They're both awesome sex-buddies who claim they love me. Huh, that's what those two have in common. I don't think either one of them knows what love is though. And ya know what, another thing they have in common is they've never had a lot of friends. I mean even casual friends. Willie has many acquaintances, but not really friends. Ryan and Willie both allowed themselves at times to be very submissive to sadistic dominant bastards too. Huh, that's interesting! These bizarre similarities of Willie and Ryan hadn't occurred to me until now. Wow, that's weird!
In the fourth inning we score ten runs and the game's out of reach for the other team. Skip, being a good manager, gives us bench players an opportunity to get in the game. Freckles is better than me in the outfield so he plays right field, Bo plays third base and I fill in for the second baseman. I
get one fielding opportunity at second and handle the routine play throwing the base runner out at first. On the bench between innings Ryan squeezes my shoulder, "You looked awesome around second base, Danny. Nice play!" Damn that makes me feel good! I bump against him affectionately. He rubs my head knocking my hat off again and I grin at him as I'm picking up my hat. I don't know, he's seems sexy to me without him even trying to be sexy. Sitting next to him on the bench grinning at him, he grins back and puts his arm across my shoulders leaning in, whispering, "Wanna do it again after dinner, Danny?" I do the fast head nod blushing a little, and then have trouble catching my breath for a second. Another squeeze on my shoulders and he lets go of me to cup his hands around his mouth yelling encouragement to Logan, who's up at bat for the first time. Logan runs the count full and then twist himself like a corkscrew swinging too hard at a off speed pitch and striking out. I pat his ass when he comes over to sit on the other side of me. "If you connected with that ball it's outta here, Freckles." He makes a face at me and it occurs to me I'd like to suck his dick while counting the freckles on his face. Hey, maybe his dick has freckles too!
When Ryan's at the on-deck circle, I'm staring at him again. Somehow he's gotten noticeably better looking from when I first met him. I began noticing that the last few months of sophomore year. His face is maturing in a handsome way. Some guys get better looking as they leave their teen years, but most go the other way. Ryan's not wearing eyeglasses now of course, and his
scraggily beard is fairly new, but it's more than that. Can't put my finger on it even though it's there somehow. Add the calmness and maturity in how Ryan has handled himself this past month or so and he's a very attractive guy. I'm impressed at the way his personality and confidence evolved this summer. For example, this past month he's handled being 'in-charge' of me exactly how I've fantasized someone doing it. Ryan's the first guy that's done it right, and he's actually pretty much like the person I fantasized about, but it is a fantasy. In reality I want to live with Robby and his version of being in-charge. And that's true even though him being in-charge is often a little suspect, especially when he asks me what we should do about this or that. Ha ha, but that's fun too. He's fun to be with, period and end of sentence. Of course my selfish self would love to have both of them. See, that's the child in me speaking, but it's not really what I want or what I'd do even if I could. Nope, that would be stupid. Then, I interrupt my own musings to clap because Ryan hits a single up the middle for his third hit of the day. Damn, he should be a walk-on for Merrimack's team. He's really good.
The last out of the game is a long fly to center that Ryan tracks down and catches over his shoulder. Nice! We won the game going away so there wasn't any drama at the end. I got up to bat twice resulting in a seven pitch walk and a line drive caught by the shortstop. The game's over so we're slapping hands with teammates and players on the other team. Collecting our stuff we start walking towards the parking lot. I grin at Timmy who's holding his little finger and thumb out at his ear, imitating a phone call. I nod at him as Ryan says, "Fun game today. This is our team's first blow-out but I don't think it'll be our last, we've got a really good team." I go, "The more blow-outs the better 'cause Skip gives us bench players a chance to play." Ryan pats my shoulder, "Good, you're seeming more like your old self." Ryan's driving us home and, as usual, he doesn't like conversation when he's driving. Nevertheless, as he drives off the parking lot, I ask, "Um, when can we have our talk, Albert?" He says, "A little later. We'll grab a beer at home and have a smoke in the gazebo and you can tell me what's on your mind then." I take a deep breath because Ryan's got the in-charge part nailed down just right! It's like he always hits the right tone, just the right level of bossiness. I mean according to each circumstance... there's rarely any doubt who's in-charge. He's like a natural at it and it makes my dick get hard at times. Reaching over I run my fingers through the hairs at the back of his head, saying, "You'll probably be mad at me, Albert, so I'll tell you I'm sorry now and get that out of the way." He chuckles, "You're not leaving much suspense about what you have to say to me, are you?" I frown, "I'm taking this very seriously because you've come to mean a lot to me and I hate disappointing you." He glances at me, "Would you please cut out the talking while I'm driving! Anyway, I told you to save it for the gazebo." Nodding my head I mumble, "Right, sorry."
No more conversation the rest of the way home. Ryan parks the Mini in the third garage bay and as we're walking towards the side door his father calls to him, "Albert, come here for a second." His father and mother are in the gazebo garden. Ryan waves at them, then hands me his glove, saying, "Drop this off in my room, then come back out to see what's up." Gesturing towards his father, Ryan mumbles to me, "Can't imagine what he wants." Taking his glove with me I go inside and up to Ryan's room tossing his glove on the bed, then up to my room to drop off my glove on the desk. In my bathroom I wash up, then change into t-shirt and shorts. Outside again I see Ryan and his parents walking down the path from the gazebo so I saunter towards them and when we meet, Mrs. W. says, "Albert tells us you got in the game today, Daniel. Good for you and it's nice having you back with us." I mumble, "Yes, ma'am, thank you," and Mr. W., who's puffing on a cigar, says, "How ya doing, kiddo? Good weekend?" I nod, "Yes sir, it was." Ryan says, "Mother and father want to know if we'd like to join them for dinner tonight at the Blake's. We're invited, but the thing is Brad won't be there for dinner so we should probably pass up the invitation." I nod and Mrs. W, says, "Whatever Albert says, that's fine with Daniel, isn't it, Danny?" and she gives my shoulders a hug as I mumble, "Yes, ma'am," and she does a little laugh, adding, "You too are quite a pair." Mr. W. does one of his eye rolls, and Ryan says to me, "Grab us a couple of beer, Danny, I'll meet you at the gazebo and we can have our talk."
His parents continue their walk around to the front gardens as I go inside and get two beers out of the refrigerator. Ryan's parents, especially his mother, seems to like me quite a bit and I'm assuming that's partly because I'm fine with Ryan being the boss and me doing what I'm told. Occasionally I need to remind myself that one of my goals for being here was to help Ryan, as a gay young man, impress his parents with his leadership abilities, and then help him make friends. I'm proud of myself for successfully doing both of those things. Ryan doing his part too obviously. I don't want to do anything now that detracts from that. I need to handle my 'talk' with him delicately. It's obvious he knows what I'm going to say, so that helps. The thing is I'm not sure if that's false bravado on his part, or maturity. I'm
hoping for maturity. Handing him a beer in the gazebo, I sit next to him and light a cigarette. We both take a swallow of beer, then he looks at me, "Give me a kiss like you mean it, Danny," and I go, "That's one of the things I need to talk to you about, Albert. And I want our talk to be as Dylan and Ryan, not Danny and Albert. Is that alright?" He shrugs, "For all intents and purposes we're always Dylan and Ryan, so talk," and I say, "Okay, um, first off I want you to know that all the compliments I've given you this month were sincere. I'm impressed how effective you are as our boss at work and the competent manner in which you're in-charge outside work too. I have nothing negative to say about you because you've done everything pretty much perfectly." He goes, "Well, thanks! Seriously, that makes me feel good, Dylan."
That part went pretty well. We drink some beer and take drags off our cigarettes, then I smell the back of my hand thinking how to approach the next part. Ryan gently pulls my hand away, saying, "And?" I go, "Oh yeah, it mostly is about the word 'love', Ryan. I'm not in love with you. Romantic love,
I mean. I'm in love with Rob romantically and I have been for a couple of years. That's not going to change." He makes a face and I ask, "That wasn't very delicate was it?" He shrugs, "Whatever," and I go, "I do love you like a friend or brother though. I caused this mess because I mislead both of us by inferring I loved you in a way other than friend and brother. I was confusing what being in love means and it's all my fault, not yours. That's um, what it all boils down to I guess." He blows a smoke ring, exclaiming, "Hey, did you see that!" I nod, "Yeah, can you do it again?" Ignoring that, he turns on the bench to look at me, "Well I gotta say, Dylan, you sure had me fooled. You're quite the actor. It sure seemed like you were in love with me two days ago. I actually thought you were too. What was it, you were just playing a game pretending you were in love with me?" I go, "Not on purpose, Ryan, not at all." I tell him what my foolish fantasy dream has been for years. The one about sub/dom sex with an awesome partner who was in charge of us after sex too. In my childish fantasy I'd be taken care of and loved while having no responsibilities except doing what I'm told. I tell him, "I'm very much aware that is an irresponsible childish and immature fantasy. The odd thing is you fulfilled the perfect partner role in the fantasy this past month, and I thought this is it, Ryan's it! Then being with Robby for less then an hour I realized what I should have known all along. He's the true love of my life and it doesn't matter that he's not the perfect fantasy partner of my childhood."
Ryan's slowly shaking his head, "You're saying that I'm perfect for you and Rob's not, but he's the only one you can be in true love with. Is that right?" I go, "Yes, that's it exactly." Slowly shaking his head again, he says, "That makes no fucking sense, Dylan," and I'm like, "Yeah, I know it doesn't, but then love makes no sense most of the time anyway." We're quiet for a minute, then Ryan asks, "How do you explain this contradiction, I mean even to yourself? I'm perfect for you, but you chose someone who's not." I scrunch my face, thinking, "Yeah, that's weird, huh? Um, it's like this: there's something intrinsically irrational about being in love to start with. You can't fake it or force it, not for long anyway. Sure, you can write out a big long list of the reasons you'd fall in love with someone, but much of love has nothing to do with the list. We fall in love because we simply can't fucking help it, ya know? Love is fluid and impossible to control. In other words, I'm in love with Robby whether it makes any sense or not."
He sits back looking at the gardens again, then shrugs, and asks, "Well, where's that leave you and me, sexually speaking?" I'm like, "Huh, that's a good question. From my point of view you're hands down the best sex-buddy I've ever met and probably the best side-sex buddy on the planet. Sexually speaking, Ryan, you shine! It might be too much to expect of you, but I'm hoping we can continue as buddy-sex partners like always." He chuckles, "So ya only keep me around 'cause I fuck ya good, huh?" I say, "You're kidding now, and I know that, but believe me when I say I think very highly of you in many ways other than sex. You're a good friend, especially this summer when you've come into your own, as they say. Not sure what that means exactly, but you're happy, confident, and you seem to like yourself. All good things, plus you love me, so you also have good taste. heh heh. A little joke there." He laughs, "Yeah, well, when you were talking about why people fall in love a minute ago, ya know I thought your explanation pretty much covers the reason I fell in love with you." I ask, "Why?" and he says, "Because I simply couldn't fucking help myself."
Silence for a minute or so, then, "I'm sorry about misrepresenting myself, Ryan, but I feel better now that I have a clear head and a clear conscience about all this." He goes, "Okay, but like I said, you sure had me fooled." I put my arm across his shoulders, saying, "I didn't intentionally misrepresent anything. I thought I did fall in love with you, honestly. Then Robby and this weekend and ya know..." He goes, "Yeah, well thanks for the compliments about me at the beginning of your talk. I don't know about coming into my own though, heh heh, whatever that means." We chuckle a little, then I rub my finger up the whiskers below his sideburn, murmuring, "You're a sexy boy too. Did I mention that?" He grins, "You too, Dylan," and I kiss his cheek, then ask, "Are you secretly hating on me?" He shakes his head, "Nah, not hating exactly, heh heh. I'm still in the same place I was before this summer. Trailing Rob for your love. What are the chances things might change in that regard?" I go, "Oh, to be honest, next to zero," and he says, "Ah ha, so you're saying it's not one hundred percent!" I laugh and lean against him. He rubs my head, asking, "Where's all this leave us as regards to the plans we made back at Merrimack for this summer?" Shrugging, I go, "Hopefully the same as before, except for the, 'kiss you like I mean it' part. That's what people in love do." He nods and shrugs, "So except for you telling me you love me, everything else remains the same between us, huh?" I nod my head and he mutters, "I don't know if I can pull that off. We'll see how things go. And by the way, I met this guy last Wednesday at Bible study, who..." I interrupt, saying, "Why do you say you don't know if you can do that? That's kind of the important part. The plans we made at Merrimack. It's why I'm here." He shrugs, "We'll see," and I give him a compliment, "You're an awesome make-out and our pheromones are a perfect match, so the side-sex, ya know?" He chuckles, "You and your pheromones." I think he's maybe a little more pissed off than he's showing.
We drink our beers and finish our cigarettes. He passes me his butt and I put it in the big vase. I'm hoping, mostly because of Ryan's mature approach to everything, that we're going to be fine moving on. He sighs, then says,
"So, Dylan, you want me to continue being in-charge and being the best side-sex buddy on the planet, is that what I'm hearing?" I go, "Yep, um, oh that is except for these haircuts you're giving me. Rob doesn't want me getting these haircuts anymore." He goes, "Well tough shit for him then. As long as you're living here with me, and I'm in-charge, you'll get whatever haircut I want to give you." I frown, "That's kind of harsh, wouldn't ya say?" He says, "A deal's a deal. Love is a different animal all together, but you and I agreed on everything else before we left Merrimack and you just said you hope nothing else changes." I suck on my lips 'cause he's right, but, "Um, couldn't you ease up on the severity of my haircut a little?" He says, "Nope," and I go, "You're a real hard ass, ya know that." He shrugs, "A deal's..." and I go, "A deal's a deal, I know. Okay, you're the boss in Marietta, boss." He mumbles, "Ya know, I knew damn well you'd come back saying you didn't love me." I go, "No you didn't," and he says, "I fucking did so," and I go, "Did not." I'm trying to goof around, but Ryan's apparently not in the mood.
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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