DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter 42
by Donny Mumford
Chubby's sound asleep in the passenger seat of the Jeep as I'm driving us home for Christmas break. During the first ten minutes of our trip we're on route 125 in a no-passing zone behind a UPS truck that's going twenty-miles-an-hour under the speed limit. Jesus! The driver's apparently looking for an address while inconveniencing me and the line of cars behind me. When I'm not cursing-out the UPS driver I'm thinking about recent encounters I've had with five of my fellow students, namely: Golden Summers, John Smith, Daryl/Pony Ponti, Steve Church, and Ryan Wilcox.
Firstly, Golden didn't do much of a haircut for me this afternoon although that's not primarily what I'm thinking about. It's what Golden told me about Frankie that's on my mind. Apparently she has been seriously dating and fucking a guy since possibly as far back as Halloween. With that in mind, I'm royally pissed-off at her all over again because the girls' continued their charade that Frankie was attracted to Rob. Plus, Frankie continued encouraging him to make-out and eventually have sex with her. A sneaky disingenuous act for sure, but my main concern now is whether or not to tell Rob. It's further proof Frankie is a fraud and was playing Rob for a sucker. I suspected something was amiss from the very start with those two, but I still don't know what I could have done about it. Rob hasn't gotten over feeling terrible about the abortion so it might be rubbing salt in the wound telling him how devious Frankie was about almost everything. He naively was under the impression she was a friend while her motives for their relationship are unclear and most likely consisted solely of winning the bet she had with Beth. Ah fuck, I gotta tell him. He'd probably find out eventually and it'll be better coming from me.
As for Steve, he emphatically denies everything Ryan told me about that horrific haircut and the sex they had together, plus every single detail involving spring break. In other words, Ryan's a liar; nothing he told me was true. I'm disgusted with him for taking advantage of Steve. I mean it was a reprehensible move Ryan getting Steve high on cocaine-laces pot then doing that absurd haircut that will embarrass Steve over the Christmas break and beyond. I'm trying to decide if Ryan planned to purposely fuck Steve up or if it was all done to somehow make me jealous, which is sooooo fucking sick. Being jealous of who or what? I never gave it a thought until now. After all the lies Ryan's told me about him and Steve I need to question everything Ryan's told me the past two-plus-years, although I don't expect to ever know the truth. Anyway there is no explanation that could excuse Ryan's act ions or his lying where Steve is concerned.
Then there's Pony who I've grown very fond of and maybe I'll even get together with him during the break. He lives in Pennsylvania which is less than a seven-hour-drive from my place so visiting isn't out of the question. We
could even meet halfway and spend the night in a motel. We probably won't do either thing though. Most likely we'll pick-up where we left off when we're back at college. He's my favorite side-sex buddy during my junior year at college though. That's how I'll probably think of him in five or ten-years when I'm reminiscing about my college days.
The trip to Worcester with John Smith had a big surprise. It's that he has an alter-ego when under the influence of alcohol. Yeah, and his alter ego showed more than just traces of dominance during sex, although it was inconsistent. For example, he'd show dominance by jerking my head with a fistful of my hair to get me to suck his cock and then he'd do something like snicker and say he's sorry for doing it. Still, it's a start and something that maybe I can nurture into a semblance of real sub/dom sex on a consistent basis. That'd be good, plus I like John as a friend too. The problem is he might be basically too nice a guy to really pull-off true sub/dom sex.
While I'd be satisfied with what we had in Worcester he needs to be drunk to do it, which mean me being drunk too. There's a possibility we'd both turn into alcoholics by the end of next semester. Yeah, so ya know, that's probably not what we're looking for.
Now... back to: what the fuck is wrong with Ryan??? It's been a disgraceful and pitiful act on his part the last two days. Maybe his bad behavior has been going on for as long as I've known him. For the moment though I'm thinking about the dirty tricks he pulled on Steve Church. Ryan can't feel good about himself or maybe he feels nothing at all about it. He may just be sick in the head and in need of some serious professional help from a psychiatrist or someone like that. I know he's seen one in the past and he should probably get back to it. Mental health problems of some kind surely must be a part of it, but it's still hard to feel sorry for him after hearing the malicious lies he told me about Steve. In retrospect some of the things Ryan told me in the past were hard to believe and I should have taken them with a grain of salt instead of taking everything he said at face value.
For example, his disturbing stories about the summer-before-last seem outlandish to me now. And I couldn't validate any of it during my ten weeks with him in Georgia. It was more likely Ryan was socially inapt rather than what he told me. He said guys were picking on him or ignoring him which supposedly led to his association with a sadistic dominant guy who I now believe may be a figment of Ryan's imagination. The guys at Church and Bible study readily became friends with Ryan once I broke the ice. He'd apparently never even tried connecting with those guys during the two years he's lived there. Bottom line is I now have very negative feelings about Ryan. Oh, and he never wants me texting him again anyway, so I'm probably gonna leave it at that.
Those are some of the things I was thinking about while driving up route 125. The UPS truck finally came to a stop and I got around it on my way to connecting with route 93. Once on route 93 my thoughts turn to my boyfriend and lover who I haven't seen much of the last four days. Rob's only been at Merrimack long enough to take final exams and then it's right back home to work for Dickers and Son, Inc. He's working there right now but I'll see him tonight and I'm very much looking forward to that. Robby's very special and sometimes I don't feel I'm good enough for him. Ha ha, he claims he was in love with me before we met which is a unique kind of love. As for me, I waited to meet him before falling in love and now I've got an unconditional love for him. The only other unconditional love I know of is between Chubby and me as brothers and life-long best friends. We've always claimed we're brothers and best friends the likes of which the world has never known before. We're famous for that... in our own minds, ha ha. Yeah, but during the past few months I've felt an unconditional love for Rob too, plus we're in romantic love as well. So that's deep, dude! Rob's not perfect, no one is, but he's close enough to perfection for me.
Obviously we both have our side-sex affairs but we consider them inconsequential compared to the sex and love we have for each other. Few people can understand or believe that. We believe it though and that's all that really matters when you get right down to it. Chubby's had some reservations about Robby at times but his main concern is my happiness and wellbeing. My Mom thinks Robby's wonderful and so does Chubby's Mom, Tris. The only other person on earth who cares seriously about Rob and me is his brother, Dodger.
He's of the opinion I'll be making a huge mistake marrying Rob. Dodger's known him better than anyone and if he knows something nefarious about him he's never mentioned it to me.
It's conceited and I'm probably flattering myself to think that instead of some deep dark secret it's simply that Dodger would rather I marry him.
That's if I can believe Dodger because that's what he's told me more than once. Ironically he does fit my ideal life and sex partner better than Rob except for one major factor; I'm in romantic love with Robby and only have a friendship love for Dodger. That's a Grand Canyon of a differences right there! You can't make yourself love someone any more than you can make yourself not love someone. The best you can do is lie to yourself and lying to yourself is stupid and it also has a short shelve life. Romantic love is true love and it can't be faked, plus you know when you've found it. Rob and I have found it and we're not giving it up for anything or anybody. It's too precious.
So my thoughts of Rob are always warm and fuzzy. I've come to idolize him much the way I idolize Chubby. They're the only two people in the world I've ever idolized and the only two I probably ever will idolize. Robby's got some admirable real life qualities that I don't have like his conscientiousness and work ethic. I'm not implying I'm some stumblebum of a totally irresponsible individual. It's just that my priorities are more pleasure oriented... more about a love of life. That includes being responsible too, just not being fucking fanatical about it. Not everything is life or death ya know. I'm more a roll-with-the-punches kind of guy. I care about friends a great deal more than I care about wealth, for example. I do like money though. I'd rather be rich than poor but it matters what price must I pay for the wealth. That matters a lot. I gotta admit that these are my thoughts at twenty-one when I'm still more boy than man. Almost every guy my age is still more boy than man whether they admit it or not. I suppose everything is subject to change as one gets older but for now this is my life and Robby's the center of it. My side-sex is fun although not as much fun as it used to be and perhaps it'll be less and less fun as time goes by. I miss the cute boys I used to have side-sex with on a regular basis, but we all get less cute with age, so it is what it is. I've accepted the reality of that.
And I realize I probably spend too much time thinking about these kinds of
things. Perhaps I'm trying to justify to myself that I'm okay and not some kind of kook. Maybe I'm trying to justify that I'm a good person living an acceptable life. I think I am, so I'm apparently doing a good job convincing myself of that. No one can definitively know what other people think of them. We only know what others tell us and how they treat us. I know I'm very lucky to have the two moms and the brother I have. I'm always grateful for them. I also know they spoil me and let me do my own 'thing' without criticism. I know what it feels like to be loved by them and I've known that love all my life. I can only hope they feel the love I have for them as much as I feel theirs. These are other random thoughts I often spend time on.
As I'm driving onto route 9 in Natick, five minutes from Framingham, I'm reminding myself of an old joke that goes: "I've talked about myself enough.
How about if you talk about me now.' Yeah, I get in these dumb contemplative frames of mind too often. I am who I am and I sincerely hope it's good enough because it's all I've got... there ain't no more. At a red light I glance again at my sleeping brother and marvel at how good looking he is.
That's another thing I think too much about: people's appearance, their 'looks'. It's shallow of me to base too much of my opinion of a person on how good-looking they are, so that's another thing I'm working on. Hell, John Smith isn't going to win any beauty contests and I like him. Of course I did recently elevate him into the 'goofy cute' category in my mind, so there's that... ha ha. Maybe I am a kook.
Driving around behind our condo I park in front of the garage and sit here
thinking about the best way to handle Chubby's situation, for him I mean.
Hmmm, he's very sound asleep which is understandable beings he never went to bed last night. I can't leave him in the car because it's below freezing outside and leaving the Jeep running with him in it seems dangerous. Well first off I need to drive the damn Jeep into the garage... duh! Getting out I hit the garage's pass code and then drive the Jeep in and turn off the engine. Okay, I'll leave Chub here just until I unload all our shit. After that I'll get him in my bed so I can keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't start walking into things if he should wake-up still hammered.
It takes me fifteen minutes to get Chubby's stuff into his bedroom and put away. Ha, mostly his clothes belong in the laundry. His Mom has cleaned-up his bedroom although it'll only take Chub two days to have it in shambles
again. Chubby doesn't sweat the small stuff like I do. It's probably Robby's influence that I'm turning into a bit of a neat-nick. With Chubby's stuff taken care of I take care of my own and then back at the truck I'm nudging Chub, "Chubby, we're home," then I shake him a little and without opening his eyes he asks in a surprisingly clear voice, "Is that you, Dylan?" I go, "Yes. We're home and I want to get you inside." He says, "Okay," and then goes back to sleep. Huh! After a struggle I get his seatbelt off, then says, "Help me, Chub!" and drag him off the seat and onto his feet. With me holding him under both arms I'm dragging and staggering with him into the finished basement then kicking the door closed behind me. I'm like, "Here come some steps, Chub. We're going up the steps." He asks, "Where are we?" His breath smells like bourbon. I go, "Like I just said, we're home going up some steps," and he helps but won't open his eyes because he's still basically sleeping.
It's a struggle and I snort out a laugh at how stupid we must look. When I finally get him in my bedroom there's sweat's dripping off my forehead.
Flopping him on my bed, then dragging his legs onto the bed, I'm like, "Well okay then," and lift his head to get a pillow under it. Whew! Success! But wait, I should take his coat off so he'll be more comfortable. He's very movable, his body's limber and loose so it's less trouble getting his coat off than I thought it would be. That's about all I can do for him now though.
Patting his head, I say, "I'll check in with you later," not that he heard me.
Now it's down to the basement and out to the garage where I close the passenger door on the Jeep and then the garage door. After making sure I haven't forgotten anything I go back upstairs to the living room feeling good about handling that situation. Sitting on the sofa I'm texting my Mom: 'We're home. Chub's in my bed taking a nap. I'll stop in to say hello this evening. Love you! She'll tell Tris we're both safely home, so it's all good.
Next I text Rob: 'Just got home. What time are you picking me up? Love you!' It's ten-minutes-of-five so he's probably still at the office. Then I get an idea and go back to my bedroom for the extra blanket from the closet to put over Chubby. Staring at him I'm thinking he looks so peaceful. Huh, Chubby and I have the same nose and the same narrow eyebrows and longish eyelashes that our dad had. We know because we've studied his picture a hundred times, sometimes with the help of a magnifying glass. The other thing the three of us have in common is our grin. Our grin looks exactly the same.
Actually, over all, Chubby looks more like our dad than I do. Whoa, now Chubby's eyes are moving under his eyelids. That's weird looking! I think it means he's dreaming.
I hear my cellphone ping and touch my pocket where I usually have it but nope, I left it on the coffee table in front of the sofa. I get it and see a text from Rob: 'Is 7 o'clock okay? Can't wait to see you! Love you!!' Huh, yeah that's a perfect time and I text that to Rob. I've still got my coat on so I get a beer from the refrigerator to take out on the balcony for a cigarette and to pat myself on the back for taking care of everything. I decide that all those things I thought about while driving home need to be put on hold for now. What I want to do is enjoy getting away from college for a while and concentrate on my Framingham life. I intend spending as much time with Rob and Chubby as I can. As for the Moms we'll see them like we have for most of our lives. It'll be before they go to work, and during Sunday brunches and dinners. Now that they're taking a Saturday off each month we'll see then that day too, and of course Christmas and New Years. The Mom's
fiancés, Bud and Rider, are now part of my life and that's a good thing.
Chubby and I like both brothers and we like that they're successful owners of their own business. It's a boring business, one involving insurance and investment vehicles like annuities and whatever else. Not something I'd ever want to do for a living myself but they seem to like it just fine.
Finished my cigarette I'm back inside sitting at the kitchen bar finishing my can of beer. The fact I was able to have a smoke and a beer tells me my hangover has been conquered. Done the beer I'm lying on the sofa thinking I'd kinda like to see Sonny and, crazily enough, Dodger's boyfriend, Vinnie. Damn, both of those boys remind me of haircuts and sex. Whenever I've given Vinnie a haircut, afterwards he fucks me the way Dodger does it. Ha ha, and yeah I know it's nuts. I give Sonny haircuts too and his red hair is very much like John Smith's although Sonny has very little in the way of freckles. With Sonny it's him giving me haircuts that I'm mostly thinking about because he can get my haircut-fetish red hot and smoking. Well yeah, but that's a damn good reason not to see Sonny. He's kinda like Dodger in that he can manipulate, in the nicest ways, to get what he wants. So, I'll need to stay clear of Sonny if I want to keep this long hair.
You know what? The person I really want to see is Willie. He'll be home from college for Christmas break too. It's probably called Winter break at Colgate where he goes to college. Yeah, Willie and I have quite a history together although mostly as seventeen and eighteen-year-old boys, then only sporadically after that including last summer. I half expect he'll knock on my door at any time and say, "C'mon, Dylan, let's spend the weekend in Bermuda, or the South of France is another place he'd want to go... ha ha. While thinking about Willie I doze off for a nap.
My eyes pop open and I grab my ever-present cellphone to check the time: it's five-after-six. Okay, no problem. Shaking myself awake I get up and go into the bedroom finding Chubby still sleeping soundly. I quietly get my toiletry kid off the bureau and then clean boxer shorts from the bureau drawe r and go into the bathroom. Closing the door, I turn on the light and take a good long piss, aaaah! After a long shower I'm brushing my teeth and closely studying my face in the mirror. I've got a pale mustache for sure, although nothing else in the way of a beard that's worth mentioning.
Reluctantly I decide to shave hoping it's true what someone told me. They claim after shaving the whiskers will come in a little more prominently. Well I hope not every time because there'll be a point when I don't want more of a mustache than I've got. What I want is a skimpy beard that I can let go two or three days and have that, 'I don't give a fuck', look. After shaving I quietly start getting dressed in the bedroom. Uh oh, Chubby flops on his side and with his eyes still toughly closed, says, "Goooletolamush." Hmmm? He continues sleeping soundly after getting that off his mind.
Naturally I want to look as good as I can for Rob. Checking the shirts hanging in my closet I choose a white cotton shirt with flaps and buttons on each pocket over my pecs, plus buttoned epaulettes on the shoulders. I don't know, but I think it's a very cool shirt made of a good fabric that looks good tucked-in at the waist with a slight overhang at my belt. I've a very flat stomach so that over-hang emphasizes that fact. It'd look like shit on a guy with a fat belly though. Then a pair of light tan cargo khakis and brown socks. I'm looking at the floor of my closet seeing a pair of $65 Skechers brown clunky shoes that I bought on sale for $35 at Sears. I'm gonna wears these because they have an inch-thick sole giving me another inch in height. Plus, and this is the honest to God's truth, they're called 'Ally Cat Leather Casual Shoes by Skechers.' So that's what I'm wearing along with my leather bracelet, cross necklace, and sports watch that are all gifts from one Willie Worthington. Oh yeah, and my little matching hoop earrings.
On my right ring finger is the ring Chubby gave me for my last birthday and on the other ring-finger is Rob's friendship ring, or lover's ring as I call it.
Holy fuck, I'm looking good! Yep, except now what the fuck do I do with my hair? The only worthwhile cutting done by Golden was cutting the hairs that hung over my ears. The hair is off my ears now so that's good but I still have a mop of wavy hair that stops abruptly at my neck line where Golden razored a straight hairline across the back of my head. I can't see that so I'm trying to put it out of my mind and concentrate on the hair I can see.
Combing it straight back seems to be too affected a look, too Hollywood.
Some guys can get away with that but not me. Combing it with a part in the middle makes me laugh at myself although some guys can pull that off too. I simply don't have the experience with hair four-inches-long to feel comfortable styling it. I don't like using hair gel so I finally settle on a part on the left side with bangs that drops across my eyes every now and then that I need to sweep to the side with my fingers. It's so dense it stays there for a few minutes until I move my head too fast and my bangs come across my eyes again. It's a pain in the ass while at the same time I think it's kinda cool too.
There's the doorbell! My heart goes pitter-patter and a grin breaks out on my face. Rob's here! I open the door and he looks so good! So cutely handsome with his blond hair and blue eyes. He's wearing a light brown winter jacked with a hood that he's just pushed off his head. I really like the haircut I gave him after that Spanish-speaking-asshole fucked-up his hair.
Rob's haircut is the one I'd give younger guys, but it's still working for Robby at age twenty-one. He's got light-brown dessert boots on and tan cargo khakis almost identical to mine. Under the jacket he's wearing a pale-blue, tucked-in, long-sleeve Polo shirt. I can see the Polo emblem so I know it's Polo. The best thing about him though is his smile as he says, "Hi, Dylan," and then steps inside pushing the door closed behind him. We nod at each other grinning and then we hug. I put my arms inside his open jacket and hug him around the waist. He gives me a tight hug then puts a hand on each of my cheeks and kisses me sweetly on the lips. Then we do a lover's kiss for fifteen seconds and when he pulls his head back a little, asking, "Did you grow an inch since I last saw you?" I go, "Yes, I did. Oh, or maybe it my Alley cat shoes," and we walk into the living room as I tell him about the shoes with him saying, "Those shoes are perfectly named for you."
Taking his jacket off and hanging it up, I'm like, "My brother's sleeping-off a load on my bed so we need to keep that in mind. Robby puts his arms around my waist, murmuring, "I'll try," and we kiss again. There's a huge difference kissing Rob as compared to kissing anyone else. Robby's lips are awesome for kissing. Awesome lips so pink and bow-shaped. Lips like sugar with candy kisses, as the song goes. And there's always his sexy indescribable personal scent too. Our kiss ends and we rub noses as I murmur, "I've missed you, Rob. I can't sleep right without you in bed with me." He grins, "Me either, baby," and we kiss again as my pecker starts getting hard. After our kiss we hug with the sides of our faces rubbing together. Rob's hands rub up and down my back and then with his lips on my ear, he quietly says, "C'mon down cellar, Dylan, I need you so bad it hurts my heart." I nod my head and, a little out of breath, mumble, "Yes, downstairs, Rob."
He takes my hand and it feels so different than when John Smith was drunkenly holding hands with me last night. Everything I do with Robby feels different and so much more meaningful I can't even explain it. The feel of his palm against mine gives me shivers and I squeeze his hand making him look over and grin, saying, "I love you too, Dylan." There's an aura around us like I never experience with anyone else. It makes everything we do together seem more important and it's almost how I'd assume a religious experience would be like. It's thrilling to me and magical and I can only hope Robby senses it too.
At the bottom of the stairs I lean against him and try absorbing his being into my heart. It's crazy and almost scary how sometimes I can't love and adore him enough. He goes, "Oh, that's nice, babe. Thank you for making me feel your love," and he lifts my head with a finger under my chin to kiss my lips softly and I could cry I'm so happy to be with him again. I don't know why being with Rob sometimes feels extra-special like this. I can't predict when my emotions will get carried-away, but it's wonderful to feel the way I do right now. Yes, it's magical to be in love the way I'm in love with him. It's something so precious my body oozes with desire for him as I murmur his name, "Robby..." He says, "Me too, Dylan," and then nudges me to get me moving, still clinging to him. We're heading toward the half bath.
Inside Rob closes the door and, gasping he says, "Drop you pants, babe," and he takes his boner out through the fly of his cargo pants and turns me around. I go, "Oooh, ummm."
I'm shaking with arousal leaning forward to hold onto the rim of the of the sink. Rob humps the head of his cock up my ass with my back arching as we both moan, "Aaaah, mmmm.... oooh." His hands go under my shirt pushing it up my back, then both hands slide down my sides until he grips my hips pulling me back onto his hard cock. It burns deliciously and I shudder at the pleasure of it all. I'd know the feel of Robby's cock inside me if I hadn't felt it for twenty-five years... God forbid! It's a fat shortish-size penis that always feels much larger than it is. When his crotch is tight against my buttocks he leaves it there allowing the walls of my rectum to expand and better accommodate what comes next. Sure, there's a little pain from my rectum but that's to remind me how important rectums are. Rob rubs his hands up and down under my shirt. The feel of his palms on my skin gives me del icious shivers as I tighten the muscles in my buttocks and hear him groan, "Mmmm, ooooh," then he begins fucking my ass fast and hard jolting my body with every thrust. The bathroom is filled with, "Slapslapslap," sounds as sensations of pleasure explode inside me and all around the sensitive lips of my asshole.
The last six months or so my feelings for Rob topped-out at a new level and I can't get enough of him. Being fucked up the ass by Robby is the epitome, the very pinnacle of sexual pleasure for me. It's become a hungry need inside me, a craving I feel after three years of being fucked by his cock with it fat girth and its hard head with pronounced flaring at the bottom, or coronal ridge as it's called. The flared bottom of the penis head prevents over-excited withdrawals as it catches onto the tight lips of my anus pulling the lips out and setting off millions of pleasure nerve endings before he thrust his boner back inside doubling the pleasure.
I don't just feel the incredible sensations his boner gives me stimulating the nerve ending around my anus and my super-sensitized prostate gland, but I see it in my mind's eye as well. I see his boner pull out of my ass shiny with precum and fat and hard with the big vein pale purple and swollen.
It pulls back until the flared neck catches onto and distends the lips of my anus almost pulling free, but not quite. Robby's hips keep perfect time smoothly pushing and pulling his hard organ back and forth in my rectum. He pulls it back until it's less than a millimeter from coming completely out of my ass and then it's shoved back in and the neck disappears followed by the shaft stretching my rectum with a million nerve ending tingling and sizzling while instantaneously the fat hard head slides over my prostate making me moan and shudder with pleasure. The head continues up my bowels spreading the walls all the way up inside me until Rob's pubic hairs flattened as the top of his legs and his belly smack against my buttocks, "Slap," and then the shaft immediately reappears as he pulls it back out sliding continuously over by prostate gland and then the head adds additional pressure leaving my prostate gland vibrating with sexual pleasure as it slides by tightly. Continuous, "Slapslapslap," sounds until I'm in ecstasy moaning Robby's name and asking for more.
We're grunting and moaning along with the, "Slapslapslasp," sounds for two minutes and then Rob's making a desperate whining sound humping extra hard against my butt cheeks fully impaling me as his stream of jism splashes off the walls of my bowels. I squeal too loudly humping my hips with cum shooting out of my wood-hard cock and spattering against the front of the sink, and then again and again with bright lights blaring behind my eyes. Now I'm shuddering and shaking hardly believing how incredible that was. "Oooh, oooh, aaah," with breathy exhales from Robby as he slides his cock slowly back and forth in my sloppy rectum before sighing and backing up pulling his cock from my ass. Rob plops down on the toilet seat lid sighing. I stay leaning over the sink with my head hanging as I inhale deeply and my heart pounds as the last zipping climactic sensations around my groin fade away.
Straightening up I let out a long exhale and turn around seeing Robby on the toilet lid leaning over with his forearms resting on his thighs. His eyes look up at me and we grin at each other. I chuckle mumbling, "Damn, that was good sex!" Out of breath Robby's still grinning and then muttering, "I needed that so fucking bad it's not even funny. Ooooh, man, I feel better now." I'm nodding my head, murmuring, "Me too, Rob. Holy shit, you have no idea how aroused I was from seeing, hugging, and kissing you. No idea." He's unrolling a lot of toilet paper, saying, "Oh, I have an idea alright. I felt the same way and almost creamed my jeans during our short make-out."
Feeling smug about him wanting me as badly as I wanted him, I mumble, "You are such a stud, boyfriend. And fast too!" He goes, "Don't make fun of me, I couldn't help myself. I mean you're so sexy hot and yummy." I go, "Yummy," and he's like, "It's a word. Turn around again, babe, and I'll wipe your ass for you." I turn around and stick my ass out. He's wiping his cum off my ass as I'm saying, "Hey, it's be cool if every time I used the toilet I call for you to wipe my ass." He goes, "Ewww! You realize some guys are into that sort of shitty thing, right?" I go, "So I've read, but not us thank goodness." Rob's wiping my ass and the inside of my right leg where his cum drooled out of my ass, muttering, "Whoa, babe, that was a big load I shot up your cute ass," and he leans over to kiss each of my pink hairless butt cheeks. I murmur, "It's true love when your boyfriend kisses the ass he just fucked." Robby pats my ass as he stands-up, saying, "That ass of your's is incredibly important to me. I should kiss it more often."
We put ourselves back together, much calmer now that we've made love. As we go upstairs Robby's arm is across my shoulders with him saying, "I made dinner reservations at..." and I interrupt, asking, "Can we first stop at my
Mom's restaurant so I can say, 'Hello'. I'll be quick about it." He squeezes my shoulders, saying, "If you hadn't interrupted me you'd know that's where I made the dinner reservation. The restaurant your mom waitresses at."
I go, "You are so thoughtful! Thanks, Rob." As we're putting our coats on in the foyer, I say, "Ya know, I don't believe I've ever eaten there as a regular customer. It's always been at a special table they set-up for Chubby and me near the kitchen door." He goes, "Well, we're paying customers tonight so they better not give us a table next to the kitchen door." I grin at him, "I love you, Robby," and we hug again and do a three second kiss on the lips. He goes, "I know you do, baby. I love you more than I can put into words, so we're even." Before leaving I write a note with big letters on the back of a manila folder: CHUB, WENT TO DINNER WITH ROB. I PUT YOUR CLOTHES AND OTHER STUFF AWAY. JEEP'S IN THE GARAGE. SEE YOU SUNDAY! and tape it to his winter coat As we're going down the steps to the street where Rob parked the pickup he pushes my bangs away from my eyes, asking, "Didn't you get a chance to get over to Golden's dorm before leaving?" I'm like, "Oh, I saw him alright.
Check out the back of my head." He looks and goes, "Oh, yeah. Um, so why didn't he finish your haircut?" I go, "He did finish it. He asked me if I wanted a trim and I said 'yes' and this is his idea of a trim." He gets that frown on his face that indicates disapproval so, trying to change the subject, I'm like, "Whoa, it feels like we're gonna get some snow!"
When we're in the pickup I assume Robby's still thinking about my hair as he absently mumbles, "Oh, I checked the weather on my iPhone earlier today and there wasn't any mention of snow." He starts the engine and looks at me, "Um, not to be a pain-in-the-ass about it, but I wish you'd gotten a real haircut. Ya know, because of work on Monday." I'm like, "Rob, my hair is perfectly acceptable like it is, but here's what I'm thinking. You're done mentoring Golden by now, right?" He shrugs, "Yeah, I guess," and I go, "So let's you and me do haircuts for each other from now on. We can do them whenever we want. You know I'm an awesome barber. I mean I saved your disaster of a haircut the other day and you were getting, um, okay at haircutting by the end of freshman year. Whaddaya say?" He nods his head as we ease out of the parking spot into traffic, "You mean I'll finish the haircut Golden started?" I shrug, "Um, I didn't mean right now. Ya know, when we need haircuts we'll do it for each other. It's not like Golden enjoys doing haircuts.
In fact, he doesn't."
Robby thinks some more, then says, "Yeah, I agree. Golden does it as a favor and wouldn't mind at all if you didn't go to him. But for me, I like the idea of showing the freshman and sophomores I'm just one of the guys though so I'll continue getting haircuts from Golden, but you don't need to.
I'll do yours. Yeah, that'll be cool. Tomorrow I'll do a complete haircut for you. Hell, Golden already cut the back and outlined around your ears so that's a good head-start." Well that didn't work out too good for me, did it? He's still going to Golden for haircuts but he'll be doing mine. Balls! Oh well, I'll leave it at that for now. Rob looks at me, "Do you agree, babe?"
I smile, "Oh yeah, sure thing, Rob."
Damn, but I gotta admit thinking about Robby cutting my hair gives me a funny buzzing in my nuts. I'm not sure if it's because of my fetish or if it's because Rob just sort of overrode my objection that my hair is okay as it
is. Looking at him driving, I say, "What do you have in mind for my haircut?" He glances over, "I'm not sure, but you'll need to give me some general
reminders about haircutting before I start, right? Then I'll decide what to do from there." I nod, "Uh huh." Damn, I think I'm kind of excited about this.
It's only a ten-minute ride to the restaurant. Rob parks, un-clicks his seatbelt and leans over to give me a kiss. His fingers push my hair off my forehead again, then he says, "I'll give you a good businessman's haircut.
I'm really glad you came up with this idea." We get out of the pickup with me wondering, 'A businessman's haircut?' Robby gets his arm across my shoulders as we walk up the sidewalk to the restaurant's entrance. Squeezing me against him, he says, "You make me so happy, Dylan. I love taking care of you." I'm like, "Yeah, um, you need to do that, Rob." Then I ask, "Does my Mom know we're coming here for dinner?" He shrugs, "I didn't tell her. Just spoke to the lady at the desk making the reservation."
We wait for a party of four to be seated and then the lady at the front desk gives us a huge smile, asking, "Can I help you?" Rob says, "Reservation for Dickers." She taps the computer and looks up with the same huge smile, "This way boys." We follow her to a table for two next to a window looking out at the parking lot. She puts menus down as I hear a squeal from the back and look up to see Tris quickly walking towards us. I stand and she hugs me kissing my cheek, then asks, "Does your Mom know you're here, Dylan?" I shake my head, "I don't think so, Tris, I just found out myself a little while ago. Um, you know my boyfriend, Rob Dickers, right?" He stands and shakes Tris' hand once as he's saying, "Nice to see you again, Mrs. Romero."
She goes, "You too, Rob." Looking at me again, "How about your brother; where is he?" I go, "Oh, um, Chub's taking a nap. He didn't feel like going out to dinner. All those final exams and all, ya know?" She says, "Jeffrey's staying in tonight? Oh my, that's a first." I go, "I'm not at all sure he's staying in after his nap. Actually I'd be very surprised if he did." Tris goes, "You're so sweet coming over to see your mom while my Jeffrey takes a nap! He's gonna get it."
I go, "Ha ha, yeah, that Chubby!" She says, "Oh, did your Mom tell you my boyfriend, Bud, is taking all of us out to the Hilton for brunch tomorrow." I go, "Awesome!" and she looks at Rob, "You're always invited too, Rob."
He says, "Thank you, I'd love to join you guys," and she says, "Well, I've got to hustle this drink order to the bar. You two are so handsome and I love your long wavy hair, Dylan. It's a nice change, hon. Wait'll your Mom hears you're dining with us tonight." As she walks away a lady with a tight gray permanent asks Tris, "Who are those handsome boys, Tris?" Tris stops at that table and I assume tells her. Both Tris and Mom have regular customers that have become like friends of theirs over the years. Both Moms make friends with everybody anyway.
I say to Rob, "Good deal! Brunch at the Hilton means Chub and I don't need to do the brunch tomorrow. You're coming with us, right Rob?" He says, "Definitely! The Hilton's Sunday brunch is legendary and I like it when you and I can do things with each other's families. We're a couple and we're going to get married, so..." I nod my head thinking that I like it much better this way; when he's with my family. Our waitress comes over with glasses of ice water, saying, "Good evening, guys, I'm Terry. I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you a soft-drink while you decide what you're having for dinner?" As he's getting his wallet out, Rob says, "No thanks on the soft drinks, but we'll both have VO Manhattans straight up. Here's my ID." I'm getting mine out and when she's done looking at Rob's she looks at mine. Then looks up at me, "Are you Dee's son?" I nod, "Yep, she's my Mom," and Terry goes. "My goodness, you are, ah, really something. Um, yes, two VO Manhattans coming up. Nice to finally meet you, Dylan."
As she goes off I see my Mom coming out of the kitchen in the back of the room carrying a tray the way waiters and waitresses carry trays of food.
Seeing her I can't help but smile. She doesn't see me though. I watch her serve a table of four and then say something to the customers with her pretty smile. Tris goes over to Mom presumably to tell her I'm here. Tris is short so my Mom leans her head down a little to hear what Tris is saying in this
noisy restaurant. Mom looks up and over at me and we both smile as she comes in a bee-line for our table. I stand up so we can hug and kiss with Mom saying, "What a wonderful surprise! Oh Dylan, you look so handsome! I don't believe I've seen your hair this long since you were seven or eight years old," and she hugs me again. I say, "Rob surprised me with reservations for dinner here." Mom lets go of me as Robby half stands and Mom hugs him, "Robby, thank you for bringing my boy to see me." She turns to me and says, "Tris' lover-boy, Bud, is treating us all to brunch tomorrow at the Hilton." I nod, "Tris told us and invited Rob." My Mom pats Rob's shoulder, "Rob's automatically invited to anything our families are doing. It's so nice to see you, Rob," and to me, "You too sweetheart," and I get another hug as I'm
sitting down.
Mom says, "I can't neglect my tables, but it made my night seeing you both." She takes off but needs to stop at three or four tables telling familiar customers that her son's here. Rob and I get gawked at for a while making me think that this is what it must be like being a celebrity with strangers gawking and talking about you. Our drinks arrive and Terry says, "Enjoy.
I'll get you some rolls and butter while you look at the menu." When she goes off Rob says, "Is she giving us the bum's rush? She keeps suggesting we look at the menu." I shrug, "Don't matter if she's trying to rush us or not; we'll go as fast or slow as we want."
Robby picks up his Manhattan and I do too. He clinks with my glass, saying, "Here's to being together again," and I say, "Cool," and we both take a sip. A Manhattan is not as bad as a shot because it's very cold after being shaken with a lot of ice. Also the ice dilutes it slightly and there's sweet vermouth further diluting the whiskey. I'm not implying it's good though.
It's still basically straight liquor. Rob puts the glass down making a 'face' saying, "Good, huh?" I go, "No," and we both laugh. Rob says, "It's tradition or something to order a cocktail before dinner in a restaurant." I'm like, "I've got no problem with it at all. You and I have been ordering cocktails at Dino Italian Restaurant for the last year and a half. It's more fun being legal age though."
We look at our menus as Terry puts rolls and a ball of butter on the table, saying, "I'll be back in a couple of minutes." Rob says, "We're not in a rush, Terry." She says, "Take as much time as you want, boys. I'm in no rush either." She leaves and I say, "She isn't as nice as the other waitresses. I think she's new too." We go back to looking at the menu until Rob says, "Do you mind if I order for both of us, babe?" I shrug, "Not at all," and he says, "They have a special tonight. It's for two and called Chateaubriand served with a red wine and mushroom reduction." I go, "Is it beef?" and Rob says, "Yes, it's the center section of beef tenderloin which is supposedly the tenderest part." I nod, "You're my man, Rob. You order for us." He nods, grinning and saying, "That's right, baby, I'm your man and don't you forget it." I ask, "What's the chateau-thingie come with," and he looks at the menu, saying, "Roasted baby Bliss potatoes and a vegetable medley." I take another sip of my Manhattan and then grab a roll as Rob says, "So I'll order that medium well." I go, "No-no! Medium rare, Rob." He goes, "Hey, I'm your man," and I go, "Except when it comes to sharing Chateau-what-you-said. Good beef needs to be medium rare."
After taking a drink from his Manhattan Robby says, "Okay. Medium rare,"
then he goes, "You're working with me next week, right?" I go, "No, I'm working for you next week. You're my boss." He goes, "You like me being your boss, don't you?" I nod, "Why yes I do, boss." He grins, "Yeah, I like it too." Another larger sip of my drink and I go, "Will you come with me to the Natick Mall tomorrow after brunch? I need to buy another sports coat and pants." He goes, "Sure, I'll come with you but you should buy a suit. Then you'll have both." I go, "Okay, I'll buy a suit, but will they do the alterations the same day? My sport coat will be at the cleaners." Rob's like, "You don't have another one?" I shake my head, then remember Willie buying me an expensive suit some time before I went to Georgia. Where the fuck is it though? Maybe in got in his carry-all luggage. It sure isn't here. I mutter, "No!" Then say emphatically, "And why would I? When do we ever need a suit or sports coat except for work and, um, most work places don't require their employees to wear suits nowadays." He says, "Well dad's old fashioned about that."
We both finish our drinks and Rob holds his hand up when he sees Terry.
She comes over and Rob says, "Two more Manhattans please." She takes our glasses as I'm buttering a roll, "So will they alter a suit the same day?"
Robby shrugs, "No, probably not, but you can wear one of my sports coats. We're the same size." I go, "Okay. After I buy a suit we'll go to your house and I'll borrow what I need for work." He goes, "While we're at it lets buy a couple of ties, and I need to do your haircut as well. What time will the brunch be over?" I shrug, "I don't know. Well, by two o'clock for sure." He goes, "Okay, we can fit everything in no problem." Then he reaches over and holds my hand, "I'm so happy we're doing everything together. The last four days being away from you sucked and I hated it," I go, "Um, you were hooking-up with that neighborhood guy who you haven't seen for like eight years, right?" He looks stern, "Dylan!" I go, "What? You said you'd..." then I stop as the waitress places our second drinks on the table, saying, "No rush, fellows. Have you decided on dinner?" Rob goes, "Yes, we'll have the Chateaubriand for two." She says, "Excellent choice. We don't offer it very often so you're smart choosing it. How would you like it?" Rob says, "Medium, ah, rare." She says, "Perfect. Anyone who orders a fine piece of tenderloin like this and wants it medium or medium well doesn't understand fine beef." Rob goes, "Of course, and could we have a Caesar salad to start. We'll split that as well." Terry goes, "Very good. The beef is cooked to order so please be patient."
She goes off and I'm like, "As I was saying... you told me you'd tell me anything I wanted to know about what's-his-name." He makes a face, saying, "And I will, but why are you making me? I don't want to know every single thing you've done the past four days." I nod my head, "Oh, yeah, well you're right, Rob, as usual." He says, "Good. What'd I miss being away four days," then he adds, "With the exception of any ally-catting that may have gone on." I say, "I'm reluctant to tell you this, but I think I should." He takes a swallow of his second Manhattan and says, "What is it?" I take a deep breath and then tell him what Golden told me about Frankie having a boyfriend as far back as Halloween and how she never mentioned it to us, but instead kept after Rob to make-out with her and then have sex. He's flabbergasted. "What? You mean all her coming-on to me and hanging on me and those terrible make-outs she insisted on was done when she was going to bed with some guy?" I'm like, "That's what it looks like. What does she talk about on the phone?" He shrugs, "Not much... so I stopped calling." I go, "I thought she
liked talking to you on the phone." He shakes his head, "Why'd you think that?" I'm like, "I guess I just assumed it because you were calling her."
Robby swallows some of his drink thinking, then mumbles, "Jesus, I feel like such an asshole. What a fool! You tried to warn me too," I go, "Not strongly enough. I thought maybe with the girls at the apartment I'd become a more socially rounded person... or something." We both drinks some more and eat some of our rolls. He says, "Let's never talk about those two again, okay?" I mutter, "You got it, Rob," then I hesitantly mumble, "But do you really think we need to do the haircut tomorrow? I mean, both Tris and Mom said how much they like my latest hair style." Then I self-consciously push the hair off my forehead again. Rob goes, "Yeah, I really do need to do it for you, Dylan. I'm trying to impress my dad that I'm management material and you're basically my first hire. I won't go crazy on your hair, but it needs to be much shorter and, um, neater. Okay?" I reluctantly nod, "Okay, if you don't go crazy on it." He says, "This Manhattan is tasting better all the time. Don'cha think?" I go, "Yeah, I think the second one is sweeter than the first." Rob says, "Maybe some cherry juice was added."
We order a third drink and it comes as our salad arrives. Robby and I eat from off the same dish in the middle of the table, but Terry comes back, saying, "If I might make suggestion," and she points to the extra dishes she set on the table along with the salad. "I'll put half on this extra dish if you'd like." Robby and I both blush nodding our heads with Rob mumbling, "That's what we were gonna do. We were just tasting it." I make a face at him like, 'You don't need to explain anything too her!' She separates the Caesar salad and puts a plate in front of each of us. Ignoring our third Manhattan for the moment we both eat the salad and gulp down ice water. Halfway finished, I mumble, "This is damn good, Rob." He agrees and we finish it all. I go, "Those fucking croutons rocked," and Rob says, "Garlic with the parmesan cheese I think."
Turning our attention to the third Manhattans Rob says, "I wanted to have wine with our dinner, but do you think we should get a whole bottle? We're celebrating kicking ass in our final exams." I go, "Oh, I thought we were celebrating being together again." He goes, "That too. Whaddaya think about the wine?" I shrug, "We probably should only have a glass each, not a bottle. But you're right that we need wine with that fancy sounded chatter-thing." He laughs, "You're getting hammered." I shake my head, "Only a little,"
then take another swallow of my Manhattan.
We gulp the rest of our third drinks when Terry pushes a cart to our table. Huh, the Chateaubriand is a small roast. She carves it at the table and places half the slices on each of our dinner plates overlapping the slices slightly. After that she ladles some sauce over it, saying, "I'll leave the sauce here so you to help yourselves to more." We both nod our heads and go back to watching her. She has a bowl of mixed vegetables and she serves some to each of us, saying, "This is table service, guys. We do it for this meal and we also do it for whole Dover sole that we debone at the table." We both go, "Huh." The vegetables are Italian squash slices, baby carrots and broccoli. Lastly she serves each of us baby roasted potatoes. Then, saying, "Bon Appetit," she pushes the cart away as we mutter, "Thank you."
For the next ten minutes we mostly eat while nodding our heads at each other. We've almost cleared our plates when Robby says, "We forgot to order wine." I go, "Oh, damn! We should have had a glass of wine with this delicious dinner. I gotta give it up to you Rob, nice fuckin' choice!" He goes, "I've never had this before, but I saw it was for two, so..." I go, "Good call but I guess we should forget the wine since we're almost done eating." He says, "We'll get an Irish coffee with dessert," and then we finish everything on our plates and even dip pieces of our rolls in the sauce making us both chuckle. I go, "We must look like idiots dipping in this gravy boat."
He goes, "That's some good sauce right there, babe."
Our table is cleared by a busboy who has quite a bit of peach fuzz on his cheeks. I watch him for a few seconds as he puts our dirty dishes on the tray he's holding, then I ask, "You mind if I ask how old you are?" He says, "No, I don't mind you asking," and walks off without telling me his age.
Robby says, "Asshole!" But he said it a little too loudly and a few people look over from tables around us. Trying not to laugh out loud I'm doing loud fake coughs into my cloth napkin. Robby's grinning, mumbling, "I guess I said that too loud." I go, "That kid was about fifteen and already he's getting a beard." Robby says, "Wait'll you see when I let my beard grow during the second semester. It's coming in fast now." I go, "Oh, God help me! You're already the sexiest guy east of the Mississippi so be still my balls imagining you with a beard too." He says, "Oh, it's not a full beard by a long shot but, well you'll see." I go, "I don't want to wait to see it until next year, Robby." He says, "Oh, that reminds me. I was thinking of something. I need to work the first two weeks of break which takes us right up until Christmas Eve. I wanted to ask if you would work both weeks too because after Christmas we could go away for like three nights somewhere. Like some warm place just you and me." I go, "Yes! That sounds fantastic Rob. Let's do it." He asks, "Will you work both weeks with me?" I nod my head too fast, "Yeah, sure."
Beaming, he reaches across to hold my hand again, "Thanks, Dylan. We'll have fun." I ask, "Where will we go." He shrugs, "I'll surprise you but it'll probably cost like what you earn in a week." I go, "I don't care, I'm bucks up." Ha, truth is I didn't think about paying for the three-day trip at first. Willie's spoiled me in that regard. He always paid for everything. I don't mind paying my way though. This'll be great. Rob says, "I won't shave even once during our trip to someplace warm." We get chocolate mousse cake with Irish coffees for dessert and then Rob pays using his debit card and I sincerely thank him for dinner. I catch my Mom's eyes before leaving and we do another hug, then Rob and I are smoking cigarettes outside leaning against the pickup. He says, "What a great time that was with you, baby. You make me so fucking happy I can hardly believe it." I go, "You too, Rob, and
thanks again for dinner."
Finished our smokes, Rob asks, "Do you think we could go back to your place?" I say, "Absolutely! Are you spending the night?" He makes a 'face', "I was thinking I would but at the last minute I thought it'd be awkward. You know, seeing your mom in the morning after us two gay guys slept together."
I go, "We sleep together at college," and he shrugs, "Yeah, of course, um, but not tonight. Hell, we can do it in your bed now, right? That's what I'd like to do anyway." Nodding my head, "Let's go then," and that's what we do. Rob parks in back of the condo and I punch in the code for the garage door. When it opens I see the Jeep is gone. Chubby's out for the night with a bitch of a hangover, but I'm sure he'll fight through it somehow.
Rob follows me through the garage into the cellar and says, "We'll do your haircut down here tomorrow. You have the clippers and everything, right?"
I could lie and say no, but I don't like lying to him. I go, "Yeah, not the professional ones though. At home I have the ones I bought at the drugstore, but they're really good too." He asks, "Are they down here?" Shaking my head, I'm like, "No, in my bedroom." He says, "How about getting them and you can give me a little refresher course on how everything works." I go, "Oh, um, Rob... we're a little drunk and it's probably not a good idea to be around barber equipment in our condition. I'm sorry." He rubs my head, "Yeah, you're probably right. There's nothing to be sorry about." I hold his hand as we go upstairs with Rob saying, "Let's have a beer and another smoke and talk a little more."
We leave our coats on and I get two beers from the refrigerator. Out on the balcony Robby goes, "Burrrr, it's really getting to be winter. " Leaning against his side, I ask, "What will I be doing at work?" He says, "I'm afraid it's be grunt work in the supply room for a couple of days, then I have lots of computer work for you. I'll set you up at a desk with a computer in my office or next to it." If I'm going to be doing grunt work, why do I need to wear a sports coat? Avoiding an argument though I'll save that question for later.
Robby says "Come here, Dylan," and I step over to him so he can put his arm around the back of my waist squeezing and saying, "I like to feel you so I know you're real and not a dream." I lean against him inhaling his scent feeling good. We drink and smoke huddled together. It's a little windy which isn't too pleasant but Rob's got an arm around me. Every thirty seconds he brushes the hair out of my eyes using the hand he's holding the beer can with. His cigarette he leaves between his lips the way John Smith smokes sometimes. Rob takes the cigarette out, saying, "Guess what the first hairs I'm cutting tomorrow will be." I go, "I can't imagine," and he laughs, "You'll know first thing, baby. I love this idea of yours by the way."
Personally I'm thinking less of my idea by the minute except it makes my balls tingle thinking about Robby giving me a haircut again. I mumble, "I actually was thinking we'd both do the haircuts. For each other I mean." He nods, "Yeah, I know, but for next semester I'll stay with Golden. After that though we'll be doing haircuts for each other like you want. Compromise, right baby?" I mutter, "I guess." I like that there's no equivocation with him about the haircuts; he said basically he knows what I'd prefer but we're doing what he wants.
Done our smokes we put the half cans of beer on the little round table and make-out for a while before Robby says, "C'mon inside. We'll get undressed and get in bed." That sounds good. We finish our beers getting undressed then do some necessary stuff in the bathroom before climbing into bed. Rob goes, "Get over here, Dylan," which is the correct way to do things. If he came scooting over to me that wouldn't be taking-charge. Capturing my arms against my sides Rob hug me against his naked body. Oh fuck, does that ever feel good. Rubbing your naked body against a hot guy's naked body is such a turn-on and Robby has an extremely hot body. It's hard but smooth and feels spectacular as our packages tumble around together as we roll around kissing and licking. The constant contact is so arousing and so are our sucking lips and tongues that are licking and moving from one mouth to another.
Quiet moans of arousal as our sex organs get very hard and leaky.
Our hands are constantly massaging each other and then there's fingers in each other's hair as we're almost wrestling and getting sweaty in the process. We take turns sucking each other's hard cock, then Robby tries starting a hickey but I wiggle out of his hold and Rob ends up on his stomach.
Without thinking about it I somehow have the head of my hard boner halfway past
his sphincter muscle as he stops struggling and moans, "Oooh, Dylan," and I hump the head inside him as Rob pushes up his ass, moaning, "Do me hard, oooh, mmmm." I already feel my orgasm percolating as I thrust my hard cock head and four inches of shaft up his ass. He groans, "Aaaah, aaah, yeaaaah," and I thrust the rest of my boner up his ass. It's tight and I'm really in there with my shaved groin tight against his hard butt cheeks. Rob's back is arched as he holds his breath, them mutters, "Hurts." Ignoring that I hump against his buttocks a few times and then pull by boner back until I see half the head before shoving it back in hard. His back arches again as he makes a wimpy sound.
Grinning to myself I get some of Rob's hair that's just long enough to pull his head up off the pillow like John Smith does to me. Then keeping his head up, I begin fucking him just as fast and hard as he fucked me a few hours ago. Robby's moaning and humping his ass back up at my trusting boner.
His moans are sexy sounding and his body is constantly in motion. Letting go of his hair his face goes side to side with mine as his legs sweep sideways spastically on the sheet and his arms hug the pillow. It's, "Slap,slap,slap,slap," as incredible spikes of pleasure sensation soar off the head of my boner and up and down the hard shaft and all around my groin. It's a short three or four minutes before my eyes seem to cross as my breath catches just before I squeal humping against his buttocks with cum streaming from the head of my vibrating cock filling Robby up with my creamy cum. Robby's bucking up and gasping as his climax blows out onto the bed and then I'm like, "What the...?" as I lay on his sweaty back with my heart pounding against it. For a second during climax I didn't know who I was fucking, and that
shouldn't be. That's not right except this wasn't lover's sex; you always know who you're with during lover's sex. This was rough and tumble sex for the sheer pleasure of it.
Catching my breath I push up on my arms lifting off Robby's back and fuck his ass in my slippery jism for another ninety-seconds before pulling my now softening cock out of his ass and flop over on my back next to Rob who's got his eyes closed while sighing contentedly. I run my fingers through his damp hair mumbling, "That was random." Rob turn his head to face me and opens his eyes. He smiles and says, "Ooooh, baby, that was hot and sexy! Damn, you fuck too good. You must be practicing on someone. Is it that Pony kid?" I go, "What the fuck, Rob. Do we talk about side-sex or don't we?" He nods, "Yeah, we don't. You're right," then he gets up on his side, "That was good though; don't ya think?" I go, "It was better than good!" He says, "Now you need to wipe my ass. Be as considerate as I am with you." I go, "Wipe your own ass. I'm the bad-ass dominant type." He laughs, "You can't pull that off." I make a 'face' mumbling, "I know," and hop up to get some Kleenex off the bureau to wipe my cum off Rob's ass.
As I'm doing that I'm real curious if during his side-sex Rob's on the bottom most of the time. Some day when we're comfortably married we'll probably tell each other our exploits during side-sex and compare notes. Will we be honest about it though? We both might be hesitant to admit the volume. I mean if we both had the amount of side-sex I've had and, to a much lesser degree, continue having. Yeah, but I strongly suspect Robby has his fair share. Hmmm, on the other hand I can't imagine it's as much as me. That's a thought I had earlier but maybe I'm giving myself too much credit, or not giving Robby enough. The fact is neither of us knows for sure and it's not something we worry all that much about anymore. Rob used to worry about it when he was calling me a Tom-cat. That's old news though. Now he's convinced of my love for him. "There, Rob, I cleaned your ass good." He goes, "Do you want to switch places and do it again later?" I go, "I want to do it again later but I'm not so sure about switching places. He goes, "Oh boy!" Damn that was random and hot! Robby should have insisted on being the 'top' though. Hmmm....
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. The books are usually around 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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