DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter 44
by Donny Mumford
From the minute Rob walked into the condo Saturday night until a couple of minutes ago it has been a fun, sexy, and exciting ride for us with only a few bumps along the way. Not really squabbles so much as a momentary disagreement. Being with Rob these past thirty-plus hours might even be a snippet of our future lives as a married couple. We're not married yet however so I need to stop acting like we are at times. Rob just went out the door after we showered together and no, we didn't have sex in the shower. We had more than our share of that from last night until just a little while before we showered. Our sex together is usually excellent and I'm not sure it could be any better. I've said that before though and it somehow did get better so I'll fasten my seat belt for the remainder of Christmas break.
I'm lying in bed and loving just about everything in my life right now. I have fairly short hair again but there's nothing new about that. It's not absurdly short and some of the online websites have a name for the haircut Rob ended up doing for me. It's called a 'Princeton cut' although they don't say why. I like it okay but the best part was Rob being my barber. I didn't expect it would significantly escalate my sexually-arousing haircut fetish, but it did. Ironically I didn't cum in my pants like I've done during haircuts any number of times in the past. Maybe I didn't spunk my pants because I really wanted to have sex with Rob after the haircut and my subconscious mind saved my orgasm for that.
Rob's actually become better in some ways than my fantasized version of him. His low-key take-charge attitude works really well for me. He's never overly bossy or arrogant and never takes advantage of a situation. I'm not sure if he realizes why I'm so hot for him and I'm not sure myself why that is. Who the fuck knows why we love or are sexually aroused by one and not another. He's noticed the change in my affection though and I know this because he's told me as much, and he's quite pleased about it too. It's doubtful that he understands why I'm so hell-bent on him being our leader though and I only recently figured it out myself. It has to do with Chubby and me basically raising ourselves with almost no adult supervise. That is until things changed...
During my senior year of high school, I was aware something was missing but didn't know what it was. A clue to the missing something manifested itself in my willingness to follow Willie in all the crazy shit he got us into.
I didn't know then but I've come to believe that I liked being with Willie because those nutty ideas were all his, and he took-charge of everything that had anything to do with them. Willie took-charge of everything we ever did together and I got caught-up in that for quite a while. In other words, the missing something was the leadership role Chubby played in my life and
subconsciously I saw some of that in Willie. I'd been under the impression for years that Chubby and I were equal partners navigating our way through our pre-teen and teen years together, but in hindsight that's not how it happened.
Yes, we did do absolutely everything together until everything changed that summer after junior year when from necessity we were apart. I now realize
that Chubby had been, in effect, the adult in my life back then. He was always the one who subtly was in-charge of us. He deciding what we'd do, like when we'd go home, when we needed to ride our bikes to shop for food, and every other fucking thing that needed to be decided. I thought nothing of it at the time; it was just the way it was and I felt safe and comfortable within that environment. Then when we weren't together I began to have this sense that there was something amiss, as I mentioned earlier. It made me uneasy. In short I've been searching for someone to replace Chubby full time and I'm thinking Rob could be that missing piece of my puzzle. I like him being in-charge. Yeah, although only yesterday I had this thought that maybe I don't want him totally in charge the way I once thought I did. Maybe for our married life together it'll be closer to, um, something else I haven't figured out yet. I need to evaluate and formulate this new thinking into something concrete. I have over a year in which to do that.
And then there's the other thing: my desire to be submissive during sex.
For whatever reason I like a dominant sex partner. Why is that? My self-analysis goes like this: Maybe I was programmed this way from the manner in which fat Carl introduced me to gay sex. I became totally dependent on him for sex. He was my sexual mentor and he became very dominant with me. Of course I didn't know any other way at the time. From him I learned to play my submissive role very well because it's how I thought I was supposed to act.
Later Carl sadistically rejected me knowing I'd grovel for him to fuck me, and I did for a while. Simply put, I was programmed to be submissive to him if I wanted sex... and maybe programmed for life. It was blatantly obvious how much I liked sex once I was exposed to it so he used my insatiable hunger for it against me. On the other hand, maybe that situation had nothing to do with me being submissive during sex. I'm only an inexperienced amateur psychologist so what do I know? I don't really care either. It won't change what I like and I like being a submissive 'bottom'. That's how I like it best anyway. Topping's hot too, but if I have my choice....
Anyway the warm fuzzy feelings I have for Rob continues percolating hotter than ever. He was wonderfully in-charge giving me this haircut. I can't think of another example of him being as decisive. His opinion carries some weight with me because Rob's who I want to impress the most. Sure this haircut turned out to be too short and not what either of us envisioned when he started. This was an unintentional screw-up due to Rob's lack of experience but I still like how he went about it. He did his best and made very few excuses when it didn't work-out. He wasn't hesitant or bumbling about it, he simply forged-on trying to correct his missteps. He told me if I wanted him to be my barber he'd need to have some say in the haircut I got. That's the kind of thing I like.
But it not just the way Rob confidently tried giving me the haircut he thinks looks good on me. He's been wonderful about everything the entire thirty-some hours we were together. I love the way he treats me and I can always feel his love and how he's constantly looking out for me. We had fun together as well as having incredibly hot recreational sex and sweet lover's sex
too. And I 'topped' one time as well, so lots of sex. I drift off to sleep
this Sunday night thinking these very pleasant sexy thoughts of Rob.
The alarm just went off on this first day of my two weeks of working for Rob. Getting out of bed I'm looking forward to seeing him in a half-hour or so. Looking out the window I see it snowed last night making the world look very clean, which I know it not to be. Illusion is nice though...
sometimes. Doing my bathroom ritual, I look repeatedly at myself in the mirror checking out my new hairdo. My hair is very clean after being shampooed about four times in the last twenty-four hours or so. I guess I'd have to say it's looking very full-bodied although I'm not real sure what that means.
Running my fingers from the front to back in my head my hair feels so different as compared to how it felt yesterday morning. Like Rob said, this haircut is no trouble. I comb the hair on top to the side one time and it stays in place.
In my bedroom I get dressed wearing the black sport coat Rob lent me along with his pale-blue dress shirt and my own light-tan khakis. On my feet are a pair of loafers I hardly ever wear. Tying my new striped tie, I leave it loose thinking I'll pull up the knot when Robby gets here. I've got a smallish hangover this morning and overall I'm not feeling great even though Rob and I both got a lot of sleep on and off all day Sunday. That helped a lot but I'm still feeling beat-up from staying up too late and drinking too much both Friday and Saturday nights. They'll be no booze at all this week for me! I gotta let my body recover.
Huh, on the kitchen table is a package of a dozen sticky cinnamon buns.
Nice surprise and after I take two Advil with orange juice I have two cinnamon buns with my coffee and then wash my face and hands again. I'll need to bring my lunch because the company only buys lunch for overtime employees, like they did that Saturday I worked there. Since I didn't think of lunch until just now I have no choice except to make two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. What the hell, I add two cinnamon bums wrapped in Saran wrap, plus a bottle of Snapple in my lunch bag. Everything goes in my smaller backpack along with the bottle of Advil, a pullover sweater in case I'm working someplace chilly, and my Marlboro Lights along with a Bic lighter. I'm looking out the balcony's sliding glass doors watching for Robby to drive up when I hear my cellphone beep. It's a text from Rob: 'I'm two minutes away.
Meet me at the back door.' After putting on my winter jacket, I feel foolish wearing it over the sport coat so I take both coats off, put my winter jacket back on and carry the sport coat. With my small backpack over one shoulder I put on a baseball type cap that Chubby left here. On the front it says: this is a hat.
Going down the steps to the basement and then out thought the garage door I stand in the snow waiting for Rob. It's not snowing now but there's like three inches of pure white snow covering everything. It won't be any problem for Rob's pickup though. Here he comes now and I get that nervous/excited feeling in my stomach again. I'm telling myself to cool it and not overdo anything with Rob. This morning he'll be in a work-related frame of mind which is different than a fun and games frame of mind. He's Mister Conscientious where his job is concerned and I'll try to be that way too. Rob takes his present job very seriously which is a far cry from when we were seventeen-year-old kids working our first job together at Dickers Landscaping and Design and falling in love at the same time. The job was the second thing on our minds; falling in love was the first.
Rob drives the pickup right next to me and I get in the passenger seat and he rubs my head saying, "Good morning, Dylan! Jesus, how awesome was the last day and a half?" I'm frowning as I take my pocket comb out re-combing my hair, mumbling, "Yeah, I was thinking about that myself just before you got here, Rob, but don't mess-up my friggin' hair." Putting on my seatbelt and then grinning at Rob, I go, "I'm liking my haircut more by the minute, but don't muss it the fuck up, okay?" He smiles reaching over to muss my hair again but I pull my head away grinning and muttering, "Asshole." Rob says, "I like that haircut on you, baby." And as he pulls away mumbling, "Heh heh, I gotta remember not to call you 'baby' at work." I mutter, "Yeah, no shit." That'd be embarrassing! The pickup doesn't slide even once as Rob drives us down the steep driveway to the main road. He says, "I'll set you up with Terrance Niles this morning. He's in the basement of the old building where all the old files are kept. You'll be sorting through them to eliminate almost all of them. We need someone's eyes on each one though to be sure it's not a file that should be given special attention. Terrance will give you the details. It'll be boring work and a little dirty so I'm really sorry about that, but it's one of many projects dad wants out of the way before March when the ground-breaking for the big project takes place. Okay?" I nod, "Sure, Rob." The rest of the drive he talks about us having coffee breaks and lunches together all week. Also I won't need to be the gopher running for everyone's coffees and lunches. That too is only for mostly management working on weekends.
I'm nodding my head like a bobble-head doll to each thing he says as I stare at him feeling my dick tightening up. Rob turns-me-on and gets me hard without him even knowing it. It's a strange feeling and I need to give myself another silent talking to: don't overdo my affection for him at work.
When I get a chance to break into his do's and don't's, I ask him, "Are we getting together tonight after work?" He glances over grinning at me, "Of course we are. Don't you want to?" I go, "Absolutely, I just wasn't sure if you had plans, Rob." He goes, "I don't have any plans that don't include you, Dylan. Jeez!"
At work this guy, Terrance Niles, turns out to be a strange old codger. I guess he's around sixty-years-old and bald as a cue ball, plus he doesn't seem to do anything. After taking sixty-seconds explaining to me what I'm looking for in the files he sits behind an old wooden desk and watches me.
Once in a while he'll answers the phone and then begrudgingly get up mumbling under his breath to looks though one of the ledger books behind his desk and then tell whoever called what they want to know. I'm only guessing that's what he does. He could be a bookie taking gambling bets for all I know.
The only other thing he does is disappear every twenty-minutes and returns reeking of cigarette smoke. Not that I give a shit...
My job is similar to the one I did for Dottie that weekend I worked for her. Yeah, except that was in the new office building and now I'm in the musty basement of the old building where everything is dusty and, well, old.
There are like three hundred boxes of manila folders on metal shelves and I need to take every box down and every file out to look at the first sheet in
each file. If it says, 'Standard OP' it goes back in the box to later be taken to the town dump. If it says, 'Special OP' it gets put in a pile for some kind of special treatment. Terrance doesn't know what the special treatment is but he guesses the files will be put through a paper shredder.
Huh, apparently Mr. Dickers doesn't want even the remotest possibility that the 'Special OP' files will ever be seen by anyone. That is, anyone who would know what the stuff in the files means. I looked at a couple and it's mostly coded numbers with money amounts. It's Greek to me. Maybe in the early days of his business dealings he did some things that maybe weren't a hundred-percent, um, legal. Hmmm, I haven't a clue what that could have been but for twenty dollars an hour I'll happily help destroy the evidence. He's had this business for the better part of thirty years so in the beginning it was surely much different than it is now. Rob told me when his dad started the business there was a trash disposal aspect to the business that was later eliminated when the 'landscape design' aspect was included. Nefarious minds might think in older times trash disposal often had a Mafia stench to it. Ha ha, that Mr. Dickers may have been involved with gangsters is a stretch even for me.
For this job I'm obviously not wearing the sport coat and I've taken the tie off and rolled up the sleeve of Rob's pale-blue dress shirt. My hands are dirty within ten minutes and I'm inhaling dust mites from decades ago so maybe twenty-dollar an hour ain't enough for doing this ball-buster of a job. When Rob texts me that I should meet him for coffee break at nine-thirty I tell Terrance that, and I may have woken him up. He says, "Don't startle me like that, son! I was thinking." I nod, and say, "Sorry. Um, Rob texted me that it's time for a coffee break so I was gonna do that, um, if it's okay with you." He goes, "If it's okay with young Dickers I suppose it's okay by me. Bring me back a medium coffee and a bear claw from the 7-Eleven on Snyder Street. And, ah, I'll reimburse you when you get back." I'm like, "Um, yeah sure if it's okay with Rob." Rob didn't say anything about me going to the 7-Eleven.
I wash-up in the lavatory upstairs and then, not to make waves, I put my tie back on. Leaving the sport coat in the basement I wear my winter coat walking across from the old building to the new one. I remember how to get to Rob's office and when I get there I see two men in the office with Rob, so I wait outside. All three of them are in shirt sleeves. Rob's sport jacket in on a hanger that's hanging from the knob on a closet door. The two men aren't that old. I'd guess they're maybe twenty-five or so and I can hear one of them say, "That's not what O'Connor told me," and Rob says, "Frankly, I don't give a shit what O'Connor told you, I'm telling both of you how I want it done." I just had a glance of them and I'm now leaning up against the wall in the corridors listening to the other guy say, "You realize, Rob, we'll lose an entire day doing it your way." Rob says in a normal conversational voice, "Just fucking do it, okay?" I'm thinking, 'Oooh, Rob, you da man!' The two guys come out and turn up the corridors away from me with the overweight guy mimicking Rob, "Just fucking do it," but that's all I hear.
After waiting a minute, I step to Rob's open door, "Ready for break, Rob?" He smiles, "I'm so glad you're here, baby. C'mon in," and then he grins, "Oh shit, I called you 'baby' in the office. Close the door." I close it and he comes around his desk and gives me a hug and a sloppy kiss, then says, "I'll probably get fired but let's have sex right now right, right here in my office." My heart thumps in my chest and then he says, "Wouldn't that be cool?" and thankfully I realize he's joking. He says, "I need to drop this report off at Dottie's desk and then we'll hit Dunkin' Donuts, okay?" I shrug, "Sure," and he kisses me again seeming very bright and upbeat." I wait here for him thinking how if I personally had just had the confrontation with those two guys that Rob had I wouldn't be so cheerful and care free." I wonder if those guys work for Rob? He comes back all smiles and puts his winter coat on, saying, "You look so hot, Dylan!" I go, "It must be my new haircut," and he chuckles, saying, "You look cute and sexy in spite of your haircut, that would be more like it." I give him a 'look' and he goes, "I'm fuckin' teasing you, Dylan. I'm a big fan of your haircut," and he squeezes the back of my neck giving be sexy chills. As we're walking out the front door, I ask, "I saw two guys coming out of your office. Do they work for you?" He laughs, "Nobody works for me, Dylan. Um, I mean except you, sort of." I go, "Oh," and he's like, "Yeah, I'm pretty low on the totem pole around here. Dad has me doing, ah, quality control of certain jobs. I guess that's the best way I can describe it.
Without boring you with specifics, those two guys were thinking they'd do something their way and dad wants me to be sure they do it his way, but no, they don't work for me." I nod like that made sense but I'm impressed Rob didn't feel he needed to boast about what he said to those two. I might have if I were him. Ya know, brag a little how I told those guys a thing or two. I'd like to ask Rob if he wasn't concerned that those guys now probably think he's a complete asshole for talking to them the way he did. I don't though because then he'd know I was eavesdropping.
In Dunkin' Donuts we're sitting at a table with our coffees and four glazed donuts. I say, "That guy, Terrance, wants me to get him a coffee and a bear claw at the 7-Eleven. Do you think..."and Rob goes, "Fuck that! Ha ha, who does he think he is? Tell him I said you couldn't do it. Christ, that old bastard would have you running errands for him all day if you let him.
His entire responsibility, where you're concerned, was for him to take a minute showing you what you're looking for in those files and then his involvement with you is over." I'm nodding. "Yeah, but it'll be awkward going back without anything for him." Rob makes a 'face', then says, "He can go to the cafe in the building you're working in and get whatever he wants there.
That's what he does every other day." I go, "Okay but it's obvious you're not going for a most popular employee of the month award." He laughs, "No, I don't think I have much of a chance for that one. My job is more like I'm the hatchet man here. Doing stuff dad doesn't like doing himself, basically." Jesus, what balls Rob must have. I couldn't do it.
Rob's in no hurry and as we take our time with the coffees we talk about where we'd like to go for a few nights after Christmas. We have over a week left of our break after Christmas and we want to go to a warm climate. I suggest Key West because I know that's a cool place. That's where Willie took me when he apparently wanted me to watch him commit suicide, although I wouldn't have any of that. Rob and I can't come to a conclusion of where we'll go but it's fun talking about it. We have never been away together so this will be a first for us. He looks so relaxed and confident sitting there.
It's like he doesn't have a care in the world and having himself a good time instead of being at work doing his job. I think he's so smoking-hot it's taking all my willpower not to go over and sit in his lap. I think he's the coolest thing I've ever seen.
When I get back to the basement it's like ten-fifteen which is a forty-five-minute break. Hey, I was with my boss, so sue me. At twenty-dollar an hour I just made fifteen-dollars having coffee. Ain't life great? Terrance is just returning from another smoke break as I'm taking my tie off, saying, "Sorry, Terrance, but my boss wouldn't let me go to 7-Eleven." He goes, "I knew that prick wouldn't let you." I stare at him, then say, "You wouldn't mind if I mentioned to Rob you called him a prick, would you?" He frowns at me, shakes his head and sits behind his desk. I look at him for another two seconds but he won't look at me so I go back to work surprised how furious I got hearing this loser call Rob a prick. My head's still pounding and my face feels hot as I glare at him.
Rob and I eat lunch in his office. He insists on trading one of his chicken salad sandwiches for one of my peanut butter and jelly ones claiming he hasn't had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in years and he loves them. I know the reason is he feels sorry for me and my shitty peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. After lunch we put our coats on and go outside for a smoke.
I've never felt closer to Rob in my life. As we smoke we exchange little knowing smiles and casually touch one another whenever we say something. His smile is so sincere and sweet it makes me glow all over. Finished our smoke, Rob goes, "Have dinner with me tonight, Dylan, and we'll go someplace afterwards." Normally I'd do most anything to get out of dinner at his house but I want to be with him so I say, "Thanks, Rob. Sure, I'd like that."
Also I don't know why I don't ask if he's sure his mom won't mind, but it's like I have faith in him and if he invited me then it's okay. Rob grins and looks around before giving me an awesome hug whispering in my ear, "I see my hickey is still prominently displayed," and he licks it giving me shivers and making my dick firm-up a little. I murmur, "Yeah, I'm fucking proud of it," and he chuckles, mumbling, "Proud of it, my ass."
Rob has a meeting and can't have afternoon break with me so I skip it all together. Terrance has had nothing to say since he called Rob a prick so it's a quiet and slightly dirty afternoon for me, and then it's five o'clock and my first day is over. Of the nine hours I've been here, eight were for work at twenty-dollars per which means I just made $160.00. Awesome! I'm in the lavatory cleaning-up when Rob texts me that he's ready to go whenever I am. Texting back I tell him I'll be at his office in five minutes.
I'm feeling kinda happy walking to the new building and then I see Rob's waiting for me in the lobby. We smile at each other as he walks out and on the way to the parking lot, he says, "When I told mom I'm bringing you for dinner again she said you're welcome anytime. Mom and dad really like you."
I doubt that very much but I don't care; I care what Rob thinks. "Oh yeah? That's nice, Rob." He probably expected me to say something nice about his 'rents, but I already lied by omission. Anyway I've lost count of my lies so I don't bother numbering them anymore. Most of them are lies to be nice and not tell people what I'm really thinking which might hurt their feelings.
During the ride to Rob's house I call Chubby to say I won't be home for dinner. He tells me he's been moping around the house all day still nursing Sunday night's hangover. If Rob and I are doing anything tonight Chubby wants me to give him a shout-out and maybe, he'll join us. I tell Rob and then at a red light his cellphone rings. When he pulls it out of his coat pocket the face is toward me for a second. The caller ID reads: Greg Peters. He's the guy Rob says is on leave from the Navy, I think. Rob goes, "Hello,"
and listens, then laughs and says, "No that definitely wouldn't be something I'd do but you probably would," and he laughs again, then says, "Can't tonight," pause, "Probably not but I'll double check. Yeah, you too." He puts the cellphone back in his pocket as I look straight ahead with jealousy eating me up.
After a few seconds of silence Rob says, "That was Greg, um, Peters. I thought he was on leave from the Navy but he's been discharged and although he was considering re-upping he's decided not to. He's fulfilled his commitment which I think was four years, and now he's looking for a job." I go, "Did he want to go out with you tonight?" Rob goes, "Oh man, Dylan. No! He didn't say anything about that! He asked if I had any job openings and I told him probably not but I don't know for sure. He asked if I'd check on it." I shrug, hating on myself for being jealous. That call put a damper on things and the last five minutes of the ride we listen to sports talk about the Pats on 98.5, The Sports Hub.
Parking at his house, Rob says, "Oh, I meant to tell you. Dad saw you when you were walking over for coffee break and he texted me: 'Nice haircut for your boyfriend, son'." Rob excitedly adds, "That's the first time he's ever referred to you as 'my boyfriend'. It gave me chills it was so cool." I say, "He's right too, it is an alright haircut." Rob just grins and squeezes the back of my neck again like I'm always doing to certain guys. His squeeze gave me chills again too. Okay, I'm off the jealousy kick. If there's anyone who has no fucking business being jealous it's me with my recent steady side-sex with John Smith and Daryl. Robby's not stupid he knows Daryl and I are doing it. Hell, Rob even mentioned it after I 'topped' him last night.
Inside we find his Mom home. Mr. Dickers is still at the office. His Mom works two or three days a week at the office and the rest of the time she takes care of the business of running a home, whatever that entails. She seems sincere today greeting me very pleasantly, then her and Rob talk about work for a few minutes before Rob says to me, "Lets clean up and you can change into the sweatpants and shirt you lent me yesterday." Then he turns to his Mom, "You washed clothes today, right?" She says, "What day is it, Robert?" He goes, "Right, you always do the laundry on Mondays. Thanks, Mom,"
and he kisses her cheek. We go upstairs to his bedroom where he locks the door and gets me in his arms, "I'm been wanting to do this all day, baby," and he kisses me which kicks-off a hot make-out that leaves me shivering with desire.
We manage to get our pants down as we're kissing and licking each others mouth. As we hump our hips lightly together Robby's fingers are in my hair pushing my head back and then his tongue explores my mouth some more. I sometimes forget how strong he is. With my boner leaking we fall on the bed together but Rob gets off the bed immediately, putting a hand on my back keeping my chest on the bed. I push my ass up and his wet-headed boner is immediately at my asshole. It goes in with some pain but Rob's grunts, wildly aroused. Even so his boner still goes in slow because he's showing me consideration for the pain and then he's tight against my ass making a quiet desperate whining sound. He humps against my buttocks a few times before grabbing hold of my hips with both hands and pulling up a little. The pain begins fading slowly and then swiftly and it's gone as I moan, "Mmmm, ooooh, feels good, Rob." He begins with three slow pull backs and thrusts but then it's balls to the wall again for another fast and furious fuck like we've been doing lately, "Slapslapslapslapslap," sounds with sensations soaring in on me. Awesome sexual pleasure sensations that can come only from a rectum.
It's the kind of sexual pleasure that's all-encompassing. My entire body shivers with it. I've been liking it fast and hard lately so it's perfect sex for the moment.
Two, then three-minutes of hard fast thrusting and I'm cupping my hand in front of my throbbing boner because climax is coming on me quickly and then a muffled, "Eeeetiiii" as cum shoots against my hand splattering droplets on my wrist. My squeal was muffled because Rob had his hand over my mouth.
I feel him shooting his load up my ass and soon it sighs of pleasure at the sexual relief we both are feeling. He pulls out, murmuring, "Oh my God, Dylan, that was too fucking good." and he sits on the bed next to me. His four-inch fireplug of a cock is still hard and shiny with his semen. He lays back and sighs again as I slide off the bed and on my knees I get between his legs and suck his cock into my mouth. My tongue licks all around it as I slurp on the shaft making those wet mouth sounds. Rob lies there breathing noisily as he reaches down and plays with my short hair. I feel my cock getting hard again as I continues sucking on his cock getting it really hard again. Three then four minutes and now Rob's making mewing sounds pulling my short hair and squirming like mad on the bed. When he starts humping his hips I taste a spurt of something that shoots out of his cock and that sets me off and my hips hump on their own as a spurts of something shoot out of my cock, feeling spectacular. The spurt of wetness sticks on the bedspread overhang.
Now I'm really weak as I take Rob's cock from my mouth and move to the side of his leg and rest the back of my head on the bed. Rob's still breathing deeply as he rubs his fingers through my hair mussing it up totally. A few minutes of silence while Rob massaged my scalp. He sits-up and gets on his knees next to me to hug my shoulders and quietly say, "This is how we'll be when we're married. Hot desperate sex after work and anytime else we feel like it. Won't that be awesome?" I nod, "Uh huh, except we won't be working at the same job." He goes, "Yeah, but the same company. Like today just knowing you were at work with me made me so happy. C'mon, get up now and we'll shower together."
As I'm getting up, I'm like, "Um, the bathroom's in the hall. Do you think it's a good idea showering together? What if your Mom needs to talk to you or she's walking upstairs when we're going into the bathroom?" He hugs me saying, "You worry too much. Let me worry about my Mom and Dad." My lips feel sticky from Rob's cum and the back of my legs are sticky with the same substance. That's kinda cool. Rob pulls up my pants grinning and saying, "Jesus, this week has been fun, baby." Terms of endearment when Rob says them sound perfectly normal and appropriate to my ears. When he gets his pants pulled up he unlocks his door. I really hate hall bathrooms! All bathrooms should be attached to bedrooms like civilized peoples' bathrooms. Rob doesn't appear concerned at all. As we walk the short distance to the hall bath, he says, "How about a movie tonight. Call Jeff and see if he's up for a movie." And then we're safely in the bathroom where Rob turns on the shower and starts undressing, asking, "How about that?" meaning a movie tonight. I go, "Sure. Movies are great."
We shower together bathing ourselves. While soaping up we're rubbing our slippery soapy bodies together giving each other sexy looks and nodding our heads like, that's right we're bad and sexy. Back in the bedroom I'm combing my hair when Rob takes the comb and re-combs the part, and he's right I had it too low. I mutter, "Thanks, Daddy," and he chuckles and gives my bare ass a smack. After using Rob's deodorant, I put my work clothes on a coat hanger and then put on the clean sweatshirt and other clothes I lent Rob yesterday. Next order of business is calling Chub about the movies and he's all for it so we arrange to pick him up around seven. We have cans of Pepsi while playing pin pong in their basement with Rob winning all the games playing left handed. It's infuriating because I'm not some spastic. I've got good hand/eye coordination and I'm fairly good at sports. Guys like Rob and Willie though are born with above average athletic ability and everything just seems to come easier for them. Dodger too.
Dinner is meatloaf, mashed potatoes, lima beans, and a salad. I've had this thought before: Mrs. Dickers is no Mrs. Wilcox in the kitchen. During the dinner conversation I expect Mr. Dickers to say something about my hair but he doesn't; nobody does, which is perfect. Mostly the conversation is about work which I have nothing to say about until Rob reminds his dad what I was working on and his father looks interested, asking me, "How many 'Special OP' files did you come across today, Dylan?" I go, "I went through a hundred and twenty boxes and found six." He goes, "And what did you do with them?" I say, "That guy Terrance said to leave them on his desk, but Rob said to give them to him, so that's what I did." He looks at Rob, who says, "They're locked in my desk although they all looked normal to me." His father nods, "Uh huh, they are pretty normal but give them to me first thing in the morning and, Dylan, you do the same for those you find tomorrow. Don't leave any of them laying around. When you go to coffee break or lunch or anything bring any 'Special Op' files you've found to me." I say, "Yes, sir,"
which makes everyone chuckle. I got in the habit of saying 'sir' and 'ma'am' at Ryan's house. In the South they practice that kind of thing.
During dessert Mr. Dickers brings up the files again, asking Rob, "Whose idea was it to have Dylan sorting out the 'Special OP' files?" and Rob says, "It was mine. I told Ned Peason I had the perfect person for that job."
His dad goes, "Excellent. Peason is the last person I want getting involved with those damn things." Mrs. Dickers asks, "Are they in relation to...?"
and his father does a subtle shake of his head and she stops talking and goes, "Well, did everyone have enough to eat?" Mr. Dickers says, "Yes, I think so, Em. It was delicious as always." Huh, not one of them mentioned Dodger.
I thank his parents for dinner and follow Rob up to his bedroom where he gets me in his arms and we make-out again. Rob is apparently as much into me as I'm into him and maybe a little more, which is an awesome development.
We end up on the bed panting with Rob holding me, the side of my head on his chest and neither of us saying anything. Being in his arms and smelling his scent gives me a boner. Finally, Rob sighs and says, "You make me very happy, Dylan. I was just thinking how empty my life would be without you,"
and he squeezes me and kisses the top of my head. Reluctantly he goes, "Well, let's pick up your brother and see a movie." We both use the bathroom and then go downstairs where Rob tells his parents we're going to the movies.
His mom asks, "Will Dylan be spending the night?" Rob looks at me, "Do you want to?" Taken by surprise I blush a little, saying, "Ha, no, not tonight, thank you though." She says, "If you change your mind or sleep over some other night you'll need to sleep in with Robert because there's no mattress in Dodger's room. We lent it to the Barnharts. Their daughter is home from college and, oh it's a convoluted story but since Dodger won't get discharged until June, we don't need it until then." His father says, "Anyway we'll get a new mattress for soldier boy." Rob goes, "Cool. See you guys later."
Outside he goes, "Did you hear that?" I'm like, "Yeah, it's the first time I've heard Dodger mentioned." Rob goes, "Not that! My parents almost told us to sleep together." I go, "Oh that. Yeah but it wasn't almost, Rob, she told me to sleep with you." He's all excited, "This is a good breakthrough.
First my Dad referred to you as 'my boyfriend' and now out-of-the-blue Mom tells you to sleep with me." That is quite a leap for those two! Mostly though I was thrilled to hear one of them at least say Dodger's name and without a disparaging comment. I love that kid, although he's no kid anymore I guess. Last time I saw him he was taller than Rob and me.
We make plans for me to stay overnight on Wednesday. Doing it tomorrow would look like we jumped at the opportunity and it'd be too obvious. Well, ha ha, waiting only one night is pretty obvious too, but she asked that sleep-over question without being prompted in any way so I feel it was a subtle endorsement that they're acknowledging Rob and I are gay lovers and they're finally sincere about being supportive of us. Damn, I never expected that! Yeah, but sometimes very unexpected developments take a while to process in the mind. The point is they have come around to accepting our situation as gay boyfriends.
After picking up my sport coat and khakis at the dry cleaners we go to my condo so I can drop off the clothes and then I text Chubby to join us. As soon as he gets in the pickup he goes, "Bro! Nice haircut! I was wondering when you'd come to your senses." I go, "Hey!" and he kisses my cheek, saying, "I'm just joking, Dylan. You know I think you're prefect with any haircut but I like this one better than the former one." Rob's beaming so I go, "Rob did this for me," and Chubby looks over at Rob driving, saying, "Hey, you got talent, Rob!" Everything is a positive with Chubby. He doesn't even know how to spell 'negativity'. Rob smirks, "I'll do better with his next haircut, but I thought this haircut turned-out okay." Chub rubs my shoulder saying, "Yeah it did and my bro looks best with short hair." Rob goes, "I was telling Dylan that just last night." I go, "Feel free to continue talking
about me like I'm not here." Chub grins asking Robby, "Did Dylan give you a hard time about the haircut?" They chuckle as I shake my head slowly like I'm annoyed when the truth is I love being with these two awesome guys.
During our drive to the movie complex at the Framingham Mall Chubby tells us about him and Chris Johnson, a cool black friend of Chub's from high school who's home from college for Christmas break. They went together to do some Christmas shopping at the Mall and Chris ran into a couple of girls doing the same thing, one of whom Chris dated and now Chub and Chris have dates for Friday night. Chub goes, "This girl, Jasmine, asked me out first and then Chris and his old girlfriend said, 'What the fuck, let's try it again' and that was that." Rob goes, "Jasmine? Is she black?" Chub goes, "Yeah, she'll be my second black girlfriend if things work out. She's hot and funny. We were exchanging quips and she's quick. Bad-ass momma, that girl. Nice body too but she's a little taller than me. I'm thinking of buying lifts for my shoes." I give him a 'look' and he squeezes my hand laughing, "Just kidding bro. Jasmine says she's always had a thing for white boys and I told her she's smart like that. She insisted on buying me a vanilla ice cream cone. I told her, 'Bitch, I like chocolate'." I'm shaking my head, "Are you serious?" He goes, "Damn right. Jasmine's my lady, dude," and he laughs.
Chub always has a good time.
Standing outside the theater in the slushy dirty snow I spot Bean standing with a couple of guys I don't know. I give him the finger and he smiles calling me over. Holy shit has he grown. He's like six-feet-three-inches but still as skinny as a string bean. I'm like, "Bean, whassup?" as we do a quick hug and fist bump. "What the fuck you been eating, son?" He chuckles, "Everything I can, Dylan. I see you're still as good looking as ever. Hey, look at this head of hair on me," and he pulls off a ski cap he was wearing.
Holy shit, lots of hair alright. I go, "Jesus, you look like a mountain man or something." He puts his arm across my shoulders and looks around like someone would give a shit what we're talking about. "Dylan, how about a haircut and then we'll do what we used to do a couple summers ago," and he makes a circle with his thumb and forefinger poking his other forefinger through the circle. I fake dumbness asking, "Are you pointing to anything special about your hand?" Bean, never the sharpest knife in the drawer, goes, "No, no. Don't you remember? I corn-hole you after the haircut. You said you liked my long dick." I shake my head like I'm totally confused, "No, I'm not recalling your long dick. Do you have one?" He punches my shoulder, "Do I have one? Hey, I've been corn-holing my roommate." I go, "Jesus, you got in
a college?" He goes, "Don't act so surprised. Yeah, I got in a college in Mississippi. How about the haircut and you know, afterwards?" Rob calls me, so I say, "They're going in now. I gotta go." He says, "I'll call you.
Nice seeing you." I nod, "You too, Bean." As I'm jogging back to the guys, Beans calls, "I'll catch you up on the posse boys." I wave back at him and follow Rob in the theater.
Inside Rob asks, "Who was that?" I go, "One of the ex-posse boys." and he goes, "Oh yeah, I played some baseball with you and those guys a couple of summers ago." We all pay our own way in the movie and when standing in line for popcorn a guy tugs on Chubby's arm and he's like, "Sammy White! How they hanging, dude." He gets out of line to talk to this kid, asking me, "Would you get me a medium popcorn and a Coke, bro?" I go, "Sure," and he sticks a twenty-dollar bill in my coat pocket. I go, "You don't need..." but he's laughing his nuts off with this guy, Sammy. Damn, Chubby knows lots of people I don't. It's not like it used to be; not even close. Then I see Robby ahead of me so I catch up with him, grinning and saying, "Can we hold hands during the movie?" He chuckles, then says, "Sure."
We don't hold hands but I would have if Rob felt comfortable doing it in public. He's sooooo much better about things like that than he used to be though; we'll kiss in public at times. I've got two popcorn bags and two paper cups of Coke. Rob goes, "Here, babe, let me help you with that," and he takes one of the sodas. Chubby say goodbye to his Sammy-friend and sits with us. The movie is another action thriller with the mandatory long car chase and forty guys getting killed and so forth. I'm thinking about Bean and if I should invite him over when he calls? And if I do that will other posse boys follow? That was a strange summer with Ray and the boys. Yeah but I became friends with some of them and had sex with three and almost a fourth.
With my elevated feelings for Rob though am I interested in side-sex...
does it still fit in my life okay? 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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