DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter 6
by Donny Mumford
After a surprisingly good lunch at the Quad with Rob and Danny I'm heading back to the apartment to kill some time until my four o'clock orientation. Truth is I probably wouldn't even go to the damn thing except Ryan's in the same class and I'd like to somehow get back into a more normal relationship with him. After my nine weeks in Georgia with Ryan my boss it's been an awkward adjustment period now that he's not the boss. I don't know if it's
me who's making the transition awkward, or him. And, I'm not even sure he'll be at the orientation. The thing is, if he does go and I don't, there's the possibility he'll take it the wrong way and think I'm snubbing him. He texted me that he might be there, so who know what's up with that? I'm thinking these thoughts while walking through the campus. It takes me fifteen minutes to get to our apartment building, but only because I had to wait five minutes for an opportunity to cross busy route 114. Finally in the apartment I use the toilet, then wash up and smile at my reflection in the mirror over the sink. That goddam Golden Summers gave me a really good haircut.
Just enough trimming on the sides and back so it looks neat and, at the same time, the trim makes the other hairs on my head appear longer. I can almost comb all the hairs on top for the preppiest look imaginable. After all the years of very short hair this longer hair takes some getting used to, and it's more work than wearing a buzz cut, but it's a cool change for me.
Lying on my back on the neatly made-up bed I pull Robby's pillow over and press it to my face. It smells like him and I bite my lip wishing he were here right now. Yep, I'm feeling horny again. I've admitted to myself at least a hundred times that I'm seriously oversexed, but it's the way the chemicals in my brain function so I have very little to do with it. I'm not hurting anyone, or myself, so what the fuck's the problem? Basically I'm saying if anyone disapproves they can kiss my ass. Oh man though, Robby and I have been having the best sex together since moving into the apartment. Not that it wasn't really good before we moved in, but now we're doing it more frequently. It's only been like two days, but we have many days to look forward to so we both expect this will be the best year of our lives so far.
It's certainly off to a good start; well, except for the uncomfortable situation with Ryan. I always come back to that. He's used to me doing what he says so he got pissed-off when I wouldn't do what he told me to last night after dinner. Complicating the situation is the surprising fact I've retained some of the same feelings for him I felt in Georgia. It's strictly lust, of course, and has nothing to do with being in love. That emotion is strictly reserved for Robby.
Yeah, but at times I feel this craving for Ryan to fuck me the way he did in Georgia, including the haircut that at times stimulated my fetish into a fury. Huh, my brain is obviously in a mixed-up state of emotions, contradictions, and desires. Sex with Ryan is totally different than sex with Robby of course, and that's especially true after the sex. It's as simple as one sex act being all about lust and the other involves some lust too...
plus love. Big fucking difference! Oh sure, Robby has his moments of being slightly rough and slightly dominant, and he has created a submissive trance in me at times, but in that regard Ryan's on a whole different level altogether. The crazy thing is I've never been able to put my finger on why I think Ryan's so sexy and, according to him, I'm the only guy who's ever thought he was. Maybe it's a combination of our intense relationship in Georgia combined with our history of very hot submissive/dominant sex during freshman year. It doesn't really matter why I think he's sexy-hot though, the fact is I do, and can't pretend I don't. Ryan would be the perfect buddy-sex partner except for one thing: he thinks he's in love with me. That's a problem for another time however. Also he's wrong about me being the only one who thinks he's hot. Jeff was totally enamored by Ryan last summer and then Ryan had that boyfriend, what's-his-name?
Flopping over on the bed, my face on Robby's pillow, I lie here on my stomach trying to think about something other than sex. Lying around doing nothing is one of the perks of college life, but doing nothing gives my brain time to dwell on problems, like what am I going to do about Ryan? Except for that, this free time is a luxury. In the past I've had part-time jobs which eliminated most of the time for lying around doing nothing, so maybe I should look for a part time job again this year. I wonder if Cory's still working for Stop & Shop? He'd give me a job. No, I'm too old to be a bag boy, and anyway there are too many annoying people in grocery stores. I also hate the thought of the fast food grease and smells associated with working at McDonalds or one of the other fast food joints. Hmmm, what to do? I give a thought to texting Tracy, but he would only fill up about five minutes of my doing-nothing time... heh heh. He fucks fast! Ya know, feeling horny a lot of the time is the only real drawback to having frequent sex; once you're into it, you get to needing it. Here at college I don't really have any fuck buddies. Well I'm not currently counting Ryan because I don't know where we stand at the moment, and Tracy counts only for a quickie. Back home I'd run into a fuck buddy at the mall, or walking down the street, or one of the posse boys would come over for a haircut.. There's nothing like home sweet home. The availability of sex buddies is probably the implication behind that 'home sweet home' phrase.
Damn, I'm back to thinking about Ryan in Marietta, and sure enough lust raises its enticing head again. Balls! Getting off the bed I wander out to the balcony and look at the cars in the parking lot. Jeez, I wish we had a better view. Hmmm, maybe if I did some more walking around campus I'd get my mind off all this frustration and, at the same time, improve my chances of developing a Merrimack fuck buddy. Nothing serious, just hop in the sack once in a while for the fun of it; that kind of thing. The trouble with that plan is I'm not adept at initiating random introductions of a sexual nature. Back home, and in Wildwood, opportunities for buddy sex just seem to happen without me needing to do much of anything. That's not so on this college campus though, and it wasn't much better in Georgia. I'm referring to buddy sex that just seemed to happen for me on its own. And, I don't count Ears Henderson asking me to let him blow me as an opportunity for buddy-sex; that would be borderline cartoon sex. And in any case, generally speaking, there aren't a lot of attractive young-looking guys going to this college. At least I haven't seen many, and of course the chances of a sexy attractive guy being gay is supposedly one out of ten, and maybe the one out of ten wouldn't be interested in me, so I'm dealing with an almost hopeless situation here.
With that depressing thought in my head I go back inside and turn the TV on, then flop on the sofa thinking about Robby and me fucking on this very same sofa just the other day. Sitting up I feel the cushion and sure enough there's some stiff spots of dried cum. Neither of us got around to cleaning the cushion. Hee he, who was sitting on this sofa during the dinner party last night? They would have been totally unaware they were sitting on Robby's and my spunk. Getting up I'm looking in cabinets and closets for some kind of cleaning material. I didn't buy any and there's none here from the apartment management people, which is stupid of them. I'd try cleaning the cushion if the assholes left some cleaning solution here. Then my cell phone pings indicating a text. It's from mom saying she's getting ready to head out to work and wants to know how I'm doing. That's sweet. We text back and forth a few times with me providing a brief outline of what we've been up to, highlighting our attendance at the orientation classes. I use 'we' so mom will assume I mean Chubby and me. That way she can reassure his mom that all is well. My use of 'we' is actually Robby and me so I guess I'll chalk-up another little white lie. This one is a lie of omission. No big deal.
Later Robby texts saying he's done the orientations and now he's going to see what's happening around the baseball complex. Plus he needs to hook-up with his freshman, Golden, for some mentoring. He wants to know what I'm doing and I tell him I'm lying around doing nothing, killing time until my last orientation. It's nice that Robby checks-in like that because it means he's thinking about me. There's still over an hour before my four o'clock orientation so I give in and text Ryan again. He always outlasts me and I end up reaching out to him; he's stubborn like that. My text asks him if he wants to hang out before our class, but he doesn't even have the decency to text back. You can't tell me he doesn't have his cellphone with him. Jeez, how boring and inconvenient life must have been without cellphones. Fuck, it's actually inconceivable! The inconvenience must have been mind-blowing for those poor bastards. Oh well, giving up on my laying around the apartment idea, I decide to walk back to campus. Outside my apartment building I see three Merrimack students wearing backpacks waiting to cross route 114.
Two tall girls and a short, squat guy with too much black beard on his squarish face. They all look glum so I slow up to avoid any awkward small talk with them. As I'm watching them jogging across the four lane highway my cellphone chirps again. It's Ryan finally replying to my text with, 'Oh, you want to be friends now?' Can I believe this shit? Talk about paranoia! I text, 'Yes, of course I do. Where are you?" He texts saying he's with his roommate in their dorm, and that's all he says. No invitation to join them. Oh fuck, I'm going anyway because I'm kinda interested in meeting his roommate. I want to see if Ryan's made his latest huge mistake by choosing the wrong roommate like he did with that ass-wipe roommate last year.
As I'm crossing the street I'm wondering what those three students I saw two minutes ago had in their backpacks. Classes haven't started yet and nobody brings textbooks to orientations, so what was bulging out their backpacks? Then I remember I don't even have a pen or paper with me to take notes. Fuck! Ha ha on me; those are the kind of thing the three duds had in their backpacks. If I brought my backpack I'd have those items too, plus my laptop in case the orientation got too boring. Dammit! I'm out of sorts and not
organized yet, and tomorrow's the first day of classes. Robby will get me organized though; I've no doubt about that. Then I get this weird feeling that I'm missing Robby, and what's Chubby doing now too? I feel alone, which is stupid but I do anyway.
At Ryan's dormitory I stop at the steps not sure how to act around him, especially after that wise-ass text he sent me. He can be as stubborn as a donkey so maybe I need to give-in and try a little of my Marietta deferential
treatment towards him. That might help him though our transition period.
Doing anything cold-turkey, so to speak, can be difficult and I do want us to be friends, so goddammit I'll take the more mature approach for once and put an end to his childish sulking.
Up the outside steps of the building, and inside I go determined to get through to Ryan. On the first floor I knock on Chubby's dorm door but get no answer again, so up the stairs to the second floor where I knock twice on Ryan's door. I have this funny feeling in my belly, or my groin. Is it nervousness? Ryan opens the door and gives me a little grin, saying, "I knew you'd give in," and I go, "Whaddaya mean?" He just grins, then pulls the bill of his/my baseball cap down to my eyebrows, saying, "C'mon in and meet my roommate." I step inside adjusting my hat and see a normal looking guy holding his hand out for me to shake, "Hi, Dylan, I'm Steve Church, nice to meet you. Ryan's been telling me all about you two guys rockin' his hometown of
Marietta, Georgia last summer." Glancing at Ryan for half a second, then looking at the kid again, I mumble, "Nice to meet you too." I've already forgot what he said his name was, but I go on anyway, saying, "Um, you really shouldn't believe too much of what Ryan tells you." He smiles, saying, "Oh, it was all good. He's very fond of you." I steal another glance at Ryan who's not even looking at us. He's checking his course agenda, mumbling, "You're an hour early, Dylan. Our orientation class isn't until four o'clock."
I shrug, "I know, but I was bored waiting by myself in the apartment, and I, um, wanted to hang-out with you. Hope I'm not intruding on anything..." He looks blankly back at me, so I mumble unnecessarily, "Rob's doing some kind
of baseball activity, heh heh... naturally." Ryan sits at his desk, saying, "Yeah, well I've decided I'm not going to try out for the baseball team after all, and I'm not returning as their flunky equipment manager either."
I nod, mumbling, "Huh."
His roommate's unpacking a duffle bag as I lean against the wall, saying, "So, why aren't you trying-out?" Ryan makes a face, then says, "Like I was telling Steve, it'd be a waste of time." I repeat the name 'Steve' in my head a few times, as Ryan's saying, "They hardly ever add a 'walk-on' player to the team roster anyway and, you know, Rob's a big deal co-captain now so I know there wouldn't be an endorsement coming from him. Ahh, fuck it..."
and he does another shrug. All I can think to say is, "Oh, um, sorry about that, Ryan. I think you're as good as the outfielders on last year's team; better than that long-haired right fielder who graduated." He rubs his nose without replying and there's another awkward silence. I finally break the silence asking the roommate, "Where you from, Stan, um, Steve?" He grins, saying, "Just up the road near Salem, New Hampshire. Maybe a half hour's drive from here," I nod trying to look interested, like I give a shit. With Steve here it's almost impossible to make inroads into Ryan's and my awkwardness with each other.
I've got the back of my hand to my nose as Steve's grinning again, saying, "I'm sure you don't remember, Dylan, but you and I were in the same freshman advertising course." I'm like, "Huh, yeah? Well, there were like a hundred and fifty others in that lecture hall if I remember correctly, so ya know..." Another awkward silence, until I mumble, "You guys want to check out the Quad? Get a soda or something," then I see my toiletry kit with the professional barber stuff inside. It's on Ryan's desk. I guess he's going to finally return it. Ryan says, "Nah, I'm not feeling the Quad, but I wouldn't mind having a smoke outside." I go, "Sure, I'm up for that." Steve says, "I've still got a lot of unpacking to do. Nice meeting you. Dylan." I go, "You too," and he says, "It's so weird I finally got to meet you. Freshman year I thought you were like a model or movie star or something. I mean when I first, um, saw you in class." I give Ryan a quizzical look, like, 'Is he shitting me?' and Ryan, who's getting up, nods his head at Steve, saying to me, "Steve says things that can be surprising," and Steve, looking confused, goes, "What...?" I shake my head, not knowing what the fuck to say to either of them.
Ryan opens the door chuckling about something, and down the stairs we go with him telling me, "He's not gay, if that's what you're thinking." I frown at him, "That's not what I was thinking at all." He ignores that and tells me, "I've discovered that Steve has no filter whatsoever for what he's thinking. He just comes right out with anything he thinks of. For instance he said to me, 'Gee, you don't see too many guys rocking that eighties look of yours." Meaning my hair obviously. I mutter, "Ha, not too subtle, huh?" I totally agree with Steve though, and I've hinted at that to Ryan already.
No need to mention it again. Ryan hits my arm, saying, "Hey, come to think of it, you're more then a little bit like Steve in that regard yourself, Dylan. You come out with the craziest unfiltered things occasionally too." I give him another frown, mumbling, "No I don't."
The roommate, Steve, is a youthful looking, rosy cheeked lad about an inch taller then Ryan, or about Golden's height. Steve has average fascial features; nothing great and nothing especially bad. Brown hair and eyes and, like I said, he's about Golden's height, but not as stocky as Golden.
Considering what Steve said about Ryan's hair, I wonder what he'll think about Golden's long hair when he meets him; if he does meet him. As far as Steve's hair, he's sporting a short generic haircut with a part on the left; the usual SuperCut style. That's one thing I can say for Golden's haircutting; his haircuts are mostly styled and tapered. Steve's generic haircut is short, same-length hair all the way up the sides and back of his head. As for his personality, from my limited exposure to him, he seems to have a nice manner about him and he smiles easily. Good smile too. Oh, and he has a scant beard that he hasn't bothered to shave for a week or more. My overall first
impression is that he's a nice guy.
To start a conversation, I go, "Steve seems like a good guy. Looks like you made a good roommate choice this year." He lights a cigarette, mumbling, "Time will tell. I guess I like him so far. Um, he's a bit naive maybe." I take the cigarette Ryan's offering and he lights it for me as he chuckles, asking, "Did you see the nine-by-twelve picture of his girlfriend on his desk?" I exhale smoke mumbling, "Thanks for the cigarette," then, "Picture?
No, I didn't notice." Ryan reaches up and wipes his finger under my eye, saying, "Loose eyelash. You don't want that in your eye. That would hurt like
a motherfucker." With my finger I wipe where he did, then smell the back of my hand. Very few guys would feel comfortable touching another guy's face like Ryan just did to me. It would be a way too familiar thing for most guys to do. As I'm thinking how comfortable Ryan is with me, he gets even more familiar by pulling my hand away from my face, saying, "Don't do that,"
and he sounds irritated, like he's pissed he needed to tell me that again.
Then in a friendly way, he goes, "Do we really want to go to this orientation, Dylan?" Whew, I need to take a deep breath, then let it out slowly because his rebuke about me smelling the back of my hand was so like his Marietta bossiness it made my groin tightened up. Fuck!
I'm like, "Oh, you don't want to go to the orientation? Sure, I'm definitely okay with not going." Robby going to ask me about it though... dammit!
Ryan exhales a lot of smoke, then mumbles, "Good, we won't go." Taking hold of my arm he's pulling me, saying, "We'll sit over here on this bench." I offer no resistance because why would I? Sitting is fine with me, but once we're sitting Ryan smokes silently with nothing else to say, so it's awkward again. Finally I turn a little on the bench, facing him, saying, "I'm really sorry if it seemed to you like I was teasing or taunting you in any kind of a sexual harassment way last night. I didn't do it intentionally. I mean, to be honest I didn't think I was doing it at all. My only wish is to be friends with you, close friends. Oh, and don't misinterpret the 'close friends' reference. I didn't mean anything sexual by that." He snorts a chuckle, "Jesus, Dylan, get real! You'd have a hard time not being sexual... I know that as well as anyone." I frown, asking, "What's that even mean...?" and he goes, "Actually it's me who needs to apologize for accusing you of being a cock-teaser." I go, "That's okay, but I really dislike that term, 'cock-teaser', I mean, associated with me in any way. So, ya know..." He puts his arm across my shoulder, saying, "Yeah, I know. My mistake and I apologize again." I wait a few seconds and then blurt out, "And why the fuck are you being so formal with me now? That's not friendly, Ryan, it's... I don't know, it's insincere like you were with Rob at dinner Sunday night. You and me are sincere guys, especially with each other." He mumbles, "Yeah, you're right," and goes back to silently smoking, and again it's awkward.
After a fake cough, I tap his shoulder, saying, "I've been thinking that you and I are in a, um, transitionary period. You know, from you being my boss to you being my best friend and fellow college student. What do you think about that premise?" He looks at me, "You think I'm your best friend?" I nod my head, "Well, yeah sure, of course you are." He grins at me, "Thanks, I've never been anyone's best friend before." I go, "Well, ha ha, um, we've had this exact conversation before. You know, in Marietta. You realize that, right?" He nods, smirking, "Yes, I remember it, but it was nice hearing it again, and I agree with your assessment about the transition period too." Okay, we're making progress. I ask, "What do you suggest we do about it?" Taking a last drag off his cigarette and flicking the butt in the vicinity of a trash receptacle, he says, "I don't know, what do you think we should do about it?" Shrugging, I go, "How 'bout if you're still my boss when it's just us doing something together? In time I expect it'll just naturally fade-out, but for now you're the boss again even though there aren't many situations here at college for you to be bossy about." He laughs, "That's awesome logic! You mean our old Danny and Albert relationship without the name changes." I shrug, and he grins saying, "I wanted to suggest something like that myself, but was worried you'd think I was an asshole for suggesting it." I bump against his side, smiling and saying, "I like you being my boss." He says, "Not when you're with him, of course, but then I don't expect to be around him much this year." I'm like, "By 'him' you mean Rob, right?" He goes, "Who else, yeah him." I don't like the way Ryan and Robby are becoming enemies, and for no reason, but for now there's not much I can do about it and I don't want to complicate this situation further by addressing that stupid situation.
I hold my fist out, saying, "We got ourselves a deal then," but instead of bumping my fist Ryan puts a hand behind my head and pulls it over so he can give me a sexy five second kiss with his tongue in my mouth. I was feeling horny this afternoon anyway, so this kiss, plus his scent, arouses me and a tent forms in my lap. Ryan breaks off the kiss, but continues holding my face close to his as he says, "You've been very mature about this, Dylan.
I'm proud of you, especially because that was your main reason for staying with me last summer. As I recall it was to gain maturity, and you've done that." Another quick kiss on my lips and he takes his hand away from my head. My hat is half off the side of my head so I adjust that doing a quiet gasp, then squirm on the bench trying to get my boner over to the side.
Letting out a long exhale, I say, "You kiss good." He just grins at me, so I ask, "You think I was the mature one about this, huh?" He chuckles, saying, "Yeah, you'd pretty much have to be more mature than me considering how pouty and immature I've been the last two days. I couldn't help myself; I'm so jealous of Rob I've been acting like a spoiled asshole around you. And seriously, Dylan, all kidding aside; it means the world to me the way you reached out just now and, you know, let me save a little face. Anyway, thanks." I go, "Maybe I should be your boss," and I give him a smirk. He laughs, "No, maybe we'll follow your clever plan instead." Then kidding, he says, "Sit up straight, goddammit! Your posture is awful!" I sit up as straight as I can and he gives me a sideways hug, murmuring, "I love you." That's something we need to work on too, but another time.
We get up and walk towards the Quad with me still feeling squirrelly and squirmy around him. He's extra sexy when he's bossy and all that, but mostly I'm glad to see the atmosphere between us relaxed and closer to normal for the first time since he got here. And I think it was magnanimous of him to admit he was being jealous and immature. Glancing over at his face as we walk, he looks happy. He looks like his old self instead of being tense, which is how I'd describe him before now. I put my arm across his shoulders and give a squeeze leaning my head close to his, asking, "What should we do now, boss?" He laughs, then goes, "Oh shit, that's right. Now I need to decide everything for us." His sparse beard is barely visible so he must have shaved this morning. That's disappointing, and his nineteen-eighties hair style, that his roommate alluded to, is annoyingly bad, but we're into positive-thinking at the moment so I'm not mentioning negatives, not right now anyway. At the Quad, Ryan goes, "Oh, what the fuck. If it's not too crowded let's get something cold to drink." On the way up the steps we bump into Felix, Ryan's friend since freshman year. They hug with Felix saying, "You're finally here, Ryan. Dylan said you'd be showing up," and he bumps fist with me. They talk for a few minutes and then Felix needs to take off to meet
someone. Continuing up the steps, Ryan says, "He's probably meeting his latest flame. Felix is a guy who always needs to have a girlfriend. He'll probably always need to be married too. If one wife doesn't work out he'll remarry repeatedly until one does work out." I'm not sure if that's a criticism, or what it means, but since I don't care one way or the other, I merely grunt, "Huh."
Inside it's wicked crowded because almost all the orientations are over by
now and guys living in dorms don't like being in their smallish dorm rooms, so they gather here. Ryan looks at the loud, over-crowded room, muttering, "Jesus," then he reaches in his pocket and hands me a five dollar bill, "Get us a couple of those cherry slushes, Dylan. I'll be outside near the wall." He pats my shoulder, mumbling, "Thanks, babe," and he slips back out the door. Ryan and Robby are the only two people on earth who call me, 'Babe', but it sounds okay to me coming from either of them, and frankly I'm a little surprised that it does. Making my way to the other side of this huge hall-like room I get in line at the stand selling slushes. Love those icy concoctions although this is probably the last month they'll be serving them. Next month it'll be hot chocolate or something appropriate for cold weather. There's only two girls ahead of me in line and as I wait I'm grinning to myself thinking that it didn't take Ryan long to feel comfortable about being bossy with me. I get the drinks, put lids on both, then stick straws through the openings on top. Carrying the cold plastic cups of artificially flavored shredded ice through the loud-mouth college students I only get rudely jostled about fifty times, and then I'm outside and see Ryan talking to his roommate, Steve Church. Yeah, I got his name in my brain now!
Skipping down the steps to them, Steve asks, "Can I have a sip, Dylan?" I pass a cup to each of them and Steve takes a long pull on the straw with red liquid flowing up. He hands the cup back to me, saying, "Popsicle headache." Laughing, he pats my shoulder and mumbles, "Thanks, Dylan." Ryan says, "Stevie needs to fight the book store lunacy now. They sent him the wrong textbook online." I go, "Good luck with that, Steve." With a smile and a wave he walks off, and I say, "He's a friendly fellow. How'd you hook up with him?" Ryan gestures towards an open bench, saying, "Over there. We'll grab that bench before somebody takes it." I smile because it feels good, like old times, with Ryan bossing me around. The best part is he does it so naturally and I guess that's because he's had tons of practice last summer, and not only with me but the whole crew at work. Hell, outside work he bossed Jeff around even more than me. We sit and I ask him how Jeff's doing. He grins, "He was my only bright spot after you left, and especially after Mike dumped me for being too gloomy. That's what Mike said: I was too gloomy.
The fucker! But Jeffy and I got really tight. I kinda love that kid." I ask, "Were you hurt when Mike dumped you?" He sucks on his drink, then says, "Not
really. Compared to you Mike was boring and inadequate in every way.
Anyway, you know how Jeff sucked up to me, and he's cuter than Mike." I nod, and he adds, "And I don't need to tell you how into sex Jeffy is, right?" I go, "Well actually, I think I had sex with him one time, and we were both drunk as skunks. It was at that gay club." Ryan shrugs and drinks more of his cherry slush. From the beginning of the summer Jeff had a major crush on Ryan, and there were probably other Ryan-admirers too. Those Marietta boys for the most part never warmed-up to me somehow, but they thought Ryan was hot. There's no accounting for some people's taste... it could be a hicks-ville
thing.
Sucking on my straw I'm thinking about Steve's lips on my straw when he asked for some of my slushy. That boy has a sexy mouth on him... perfect bow-shaped lips and a cute grin. Other than that he's your average looking young man; not bad but nothing special. Just to be sure, I ask, "No chance your roommates gay, right?" Ryan finishes his drink, gets up and drops the cup in a trash barrel next to the bench, saying, "I already told you there's zero chance of that, Dylan. Why, do you think he's hot?" I shake my head, "Not really, but his mouth," and Ryan laughs, "Yeah, I did notice that myself." I ask, ""Does he know we're gay?" Ryan nods,"Oh yeah! He and I discussed our sexuality last summer in like our second email. Ya know, I began my roommate search shortly after you left and got lucky with Steve, at least so far. He's definitely straight though." I'm thinking, ''Well, we'll see about that, won't we?' Then shake my head because I've outgrown that silly game of enticing seemingly straight guys with my irresistible charms... heh heh.
Oh fuck, get a grip Dylan! Ryan pulls the bill of my cap down on my forehead
again, asking, "What are you smiling about? You gonna test Stevie's commitment to Darlene?" I ask, "That's his girlfriend's name?" He shrugs, "I don't know. It'd be the perfect name for his girlfriend though."
We get up and I dump my cup in the trash as Ryan lights another cigarette.
I ask, "How many of those things do you smoke a day, Ryan?" He says, "More when I'm around you, but normally about ten or so. Sometimes less." I hold my hand out and take the cigarettes from between his fingers, then take a drag. Exhaling, I pass it back to Ryan studying his face, feeling a buzzing
in my stomach again. Damn, I wish he'd suggest we have reunion sex, or make-up sex, or something. I'm not going to be the one who brings it up though. That's one way I can break the Marietta mold; waiting for him to suggest buddy-sex. And I'm not going to be the one who starts the next conversation either. I've been doing that ever since knocking on his dorm door.
Smelling the back of my wrist I'm thinking about sex with Robby yesterday, and how awesome that was, plus we'll almost surely have a sexy time tonight. I can't imagine why we wouldn't, and I'm really looking forward to that. Even so I could also go for Ryan's different approach to sex, meaning the sub/dom kind. Like I said, it's very different. Not better necessarily, just a different set of stimulation involved in his sub/dom approach. Frankly I feel it's completely understandable that I'd have a desire for Ryan's brand of hard fucking considering all of the hard fucking we did together for nine weeks. It's only a natural inclination to want to experience that hot sex again, and it's frustrating to me Ryan doesn't seem to get that. It's like I need to be the one who initiates sex. And ha! Robby thought Ryan took advantage of my deferential posture with him when nothing could be further from the truth. Ryan isn't as over-sex-driven as Robby and me, and he certainly isn't in Willie's class either as far as that goes. Willie would fuck me all night. Huh, I wonder what he's doing right now?
Ryan speaks first, saying, "Hey! I've got a new X-box multiplayer game, two controllers and headsets; in short, everything we need. Do you dare challenge me, Dylan?" I just stare him in the eyes. He stops walking and rubs my shoulder, quietly saying, "Oh well, that's on your mind, huh? It's not my place to suggest it, Dylan. You're the one with the boyfriend and I don't want him on my ass... he can go psycho where you're concerned." I'm slowly shaking my head, then say, "You know very well that Rob and I have an open relationship." He rubs his nose, talking low, "Yes, but it's still not my place to suggest it. I'm sorry but that's how I feel. And anyway you never minded asking for it when you were with me at home." His home, not mine. I'm making a face, squeezing my hands together in frustration, then mumbling, "Yeah, I guess you're right, but um, there's the concern you'll think I'm leading you on again," and he grins, "Yeah, but you are leading me on. Is it possible you don't know what leading a person on means," and he chuckles lightly punching my shoulder. My arms go around him and we hug for a few seconds before he pulls his head back, looking at me with his eyebrows raised, expectantly. I shake my head slowly again, then give-in and ask, "Can we have reunion sex while your roommate's at the book store?" He goes, "How hard was that? Of course we can." and we start walking towards his dorm with me mumbling, "I promised myself I wouldn't ask, but you make me crazy with desire. Hey, you didn't hypnotizer me in Georgia did you?" He goes, "No, but I would have if I knew how."
He reaches up and puts his arm around the back of my neck, shaking my head a little, saying, "Thanks for finally asking, babe. In two more minutes I would have asked you." He's lying about that. Ryan's too stubborn to do that, and he has the willpower of, um, whoever has strong willpower... a bull dog maybe. Certainly not me. Now I'm all jittery though and my belly feels funny, or is it my groin. Down there in that general area anyway. It feels kind of good actually, that is until an idea floats scarily past my mind.
As we're going up the steps of his dormitory I'm worried he might think I meant the whole haircut and hard fuck routine. Oh, no, no, no! I go, "Ryan, um, you're not thinking, um..." and he interrupts me, saying, "I know how you think, Dylan, and no, this isn't the haircut and all that. You'll specifically need to ask for that." I mutter, "Good," and we go inside the front door to the first floor. This time I don't want Chubby to be in his dorm room and when we pass his room it's silent in there, so good. Inside Ryan's dorm with the door closing behind us and all of a sudden I feel self-conscious. The room's so small. My bedroom is bigger than this and in Marietta my room was four times as big as this room, and Ryan's was twice as spacious as mine. I feel like we're in a closet and I can't catch my breath. It makes me think of Golden saying some guys get sexually aroused being put in a very small space. I think he was referring to himself, although it wouldn't necessarily mean he's gay. Straight people have fetishes too.
I'm leaning against the door when Ryan turns around and laughs, "What are you thinking now, Dylan?" I go, "It's sorta tight in here and I feel nervous, like it's my first time. I'm nuts, I guess." He says, "It's okay with me if you want to change your mind." Walking away from the door, I'm like, "Don't you ever get horny, Ryan?" He says, "Yes, I'm always horny around you, but when you left, for example, I was satisfied with having sex once or twice a week. That's not the case though when I'm with the cutest, sexiest guy on the east coast; then I'm horny. You're irresistible to me." I'm like, "You could have fooled me, and why just the east coast?" He grins, saying, "I haven't been anywhere except the east coast." I go, "Well, be that as it may, I'm still feeling funny because this feels odd, like appointment sex or something." He goes, "Yeah, well whatever! We can't assume Steve's going to be out all afternoon so, okay, I'm taking charge and telling you to get your ass over here." There was a little no-nonsense tone to his voice and I can understand why he might be a bit exasperated because I'm a bit exasperated at myself. I'm acting like a doofus. I walk over to him and he gets my face between his hands tilting my head down a little, to his height, and gives me one of those almost magical sexy open-mouth kisses that are so arousing to me. My hands are at his waist, then my arms go around him and it all rushes back. His scent, his lips and that perfect tongue. My body's plastered against his... he has a very tight body. His right leg goes between mine as he humps it against my hardening cock. I'm gasping now as he licks across my cheek and, with his lips rubbing against my ear, he murmurs, "Go ahead, Dylan, take my cock out now and suck it."
I slide down his body to my knees, while pushing my boner to the side. He says, "Pull your pants down." I can only pull my pants and underwear down to bunch around my knees, at the floor. My cock's already hard and up tightly against my belly. Undoing his pants and pulling them down a little, and oh man, there's Ryan's eight inch penis right in front of me, fat and slightly firm. I pick it up as Ryan runs his fingers through my hair, murmuring,
"This is new, you having hair, babe." My eyes are glued to his big cock, surprised again at how heavy it is in my fingers. Stroking it a few times, then I lick from his nut sack up the shaft to the head of his cock a few times before the head goes into my mouth. My tongue licks all around it and I feel the head get bigger as it gets harder. Sucking some of the shaft in, then some more and really sucking on it as my tongue moves around the swollen head. Ryan adjust my head position, lifts up on his toes and lean forward pushing the hard head of his boner into my throat. He goes, "Ahhhh, ooh, jeez, mmm," then pushes another two inches of shaft down my throat with the head bulging out my Adam's apple. He moves it back and forth in my throat a half dozen times until I start gagging. Then, ignoring my discomfort, he leans further forward pushing the entire eight inches of hard fat cock down my throat pressing his groin against my face, his pubic hairs surrounding my nose, mouth and chin. He murmurs, "That's my boy, take it all, boy."
I'm gagging and struggling now, but he dominantly keeps the pressure on, then humps his crotch against my face the way he'd hump it against my buttocks.
A strong sense of claustrophobia floats past my consciousness for just a fleeting second as I struggle against him. He presses against my face harder and I slip into a deep submissive trance, dominated completely... and relax. "Good boy," he coos, as he pulls his boner out of my throat and then slides it out of my mouth on my tongue. I'm as docile as a rag doll looking up at Ryan with my mouth still open wide and my tongue out.
He rubs both my shoulders giving me time to take a couple of deep breaths. Then, with his hand on top of my head, he sternly says, "Get your tongue out more." I push it out as far as I can and he slides his huge heavy hard boner back in my mouth on my warm wet tongue and down my throat it goes again. My boner is so hard it's sticking straight out now; barely quivering in its tightness. Oooh, it feels so good. Ryan does some fairly slow thrusts back and forth in my throat, the bulbous head tightly spreading my esophagus until I'm feeling so totally dominated I slip into and ever deeper submissive trance feeling my orgasm coming on me fast now. Very fast as I'm gagging noisily, then try squealing as my hips hump and cum streams out my hard penis shooting between Ryan's legs, then again as my whole body shudders.
I didn't even realize he'd pulled that hard-as-wood, fat boner out of my throat and mouth entirely. He wipes the precum-wet head across my forehead and I open my mouth again with my tongue out as far as I can stretch it. I'm in a submissive daze with orgasm sensations still sizzling around my cock and groin. He slides the head of his boner back in my mouth and I suck out precum, then hungrily take more shaft inside my mouth ready to be deep throated again, but Ryan cups behind my head and pulls me forward as he back up a couple of steps. His hard cock coming out of my mouth again, siding off my chin leaving a wet precum/saliva string behind. My climax sensations are fading but remnants of my latest orgasm are still noticeable streaking around my body enough that my shoulders shudder again. Ryan's hand pressure on the back of my head brings me forward further until I'm resting my forehead on the back of my forearms on the floor, on my knees holding my ass up for him. I hear from way off Ryan saying, "Get that ass up further," then "SMACK!" I lift my ass feeling wonderfully dominated. A sigh comes out as I'm still groveling in the splendor of my submissive trance; everything feeling really good. The wet head of Ryan's cock is at my asshole and I think, 'Precum' and realize there precum all over my tongue. As I twirl my tongue around trying to taste it Ryan humps the head of his swollen boner in past my sphincter muscle and I see streaks of red behind my eyes as I yelp in pain, quickly coming out my submissive trance.
Ryan is greatly aroused himself by now as he humps half that big boner up inside me and I lift up onto my hands with my back arching as I clench my teeth against the pain. Ryan mutters, "Sorry, but..." and the rest of that big hard organ gets shoved up my ass with his crotch smacking flat against my buttocks. He's rubbing my shoulder quietly asking, "You okay, babe?" I can't speak yet as I concentrate on dealing with the throbbing pain inside me.
Soon I feel the pain residing and then I notice that incredible feeling of being filled up back there about as much as it ever gets. My head comes up and I murmur, "Yeah, it's starting to feel good. I'm good." He squeezes my shoulders, "Well I'll tell ya, nothing ever feels this good to me, Dylan.
I missed this so much I almost cried a couple of nights trying to think how I could have done better for you." I nod my head but the sensations are building and beginning to sizzle inside my rectum making me squirm and move, swaying on my hands and knees. It feels awesome doing that because swaying moves that big cock inside me. He pats my head, saying, "I see you're okay," and he starts thrusting his boner back and forth in my ass as lights go off in my head with sparking sexual pleasure sensations erupting, the most intense pleasure I know of and it begins spreading out from my rectum, then my cock begins firming up again. What ecstasy it is being fucked up the ass by Ryan's big cock.
It's a totally different feeling from getting fucked by my lover's cock, and even now I know which one I love the best, but when I'm getting fucked by Ryan I'm not thinking about anything except his big fat boner moving back and forth inside me. For now it's my world of pleasure and no other thoughts can intrude. He's really getting into it now and the familiar, "Slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds are all I hear. The awesomeness of it gets me into a mantra of, "Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!" with every long thrust up my ass. My head droops down on my arms again as my body slams forward with each hard thrust, then pulls pack with Ryan's hands gripping my hips pulling me onto his boner even as he's thrusting forward. He doesn't last very long though. It couldn't be more then three or four minutes and he's ready to blow. Near the end his thrusting gets wild as he grunts and moans, breathing noisily.
Desperate fast humping now and then he's tight against my butt cheeks humping against them shooting a lot of his creamy spunk up inside me. I'm not sure I'll reach another climax, but then it's on me again. I hold my breath, my body getting stiff as a board, then, Ahhh," and out shoots a tiny streak of cum and I almost pass out absorbing the sensations from my quivering boner.
I'm weak as a rag doll again, hearing heavy deep breathing, then realize it's Ryan's as he's leaning against my back, his head close to mine.
Thirty seconds later he straightens up and pulls his cock from my ass.
It's really wide open back there as Ryan smacks my butt cheek, "SMACK!", gasps, then chuckles, mumbling, "Holy shit, I forgot how hard I climax when fucking you. Oh gawd, oooh... what an orgasm!." He reaches down to grab my arms, helping me up. I'm still feeling dizzy, but really good too. We shake our heads smiling at one another, then he grabs a t-shirt out of Steve's open box of clothes and uses it to wipe cum from my drooling ass. Holding the t-shirt under my ass Ryan sits me on the edge of one of the twin beds, then sits next to me with his arm across my shoulders pulling me against his side.
My head lulls over on his shoulder as I look at my pants that have slid down around my feet. We do some more deep breathing; he rubs my head and asks, "Disappointed?" I laugh, "No, I wouldn't say disappointed. Two orgasms in ten minutes. Not bad, and I think your penis grew since I last felt it up my ass." This is so different then after Robby and I have sex together; with sex buddies smart-ass remarks are completely appropriate after sex.
Shaking his head, Ryan mumbles, "That was something right there," and he gives the side of my face a long wet smooch. Pretty soon we both start feeling self-conscious sitting here with our pants around our ankles. The roommate could pop in any second, so Ryan pats my back and stands up to pull his pants up. The last I see of his cock, it's flaccid and slimy-looking from the cum he shot up my rectum. I get up and do one last wipe of my ass with Steve's t-shirt, then pull my pants up, muttering to myself, "No," and pull my pants down again seeing a wet spot on my jockey shorts. Ryan chuckles, "I poured a ginormous orgasm up your ass," as he hands me his handkerchief.
I put it carefully in just the right spot of my jockey shorts, pull then up tightly, then my pants.
Ryan goes, "Okay, you want to try the Xbox 360 now?" I'm like, "No! I need to recover from your Marietta-brand sex first." He goes, "Oh yeah, that reminds me. There's your barber toiletry kit on my desk. The Marietta boys hope they never see those clippers again." I'm like, "They tired of your specialty haircuts, did they?" He shrugs, "Well, they came every Saturday, so I don't know. The bitching did escalate week to week though. Ha ha, but I liked doing those haircuts, I know that much." He grins and messes my hair, adding, "Not as much as I'm going to enjoy doing your haircut." I'm very nicely sexually satisfied for the moment, mumbling, "Don't hold your breath waiting for me to ask for that." Ryan goes over to his desk and takes the clippers out of the toiletry kit and holds them up, smirking, "I'll use the bare clipper blade on the sides and back of your head, then the quarter inch...
" and I go, "Put that thing away before you hurt yourself. Better yet, plug it in and you sit in the desk chair. I'll make fast work of that silly hairdo you're walking around with." Running his fingers through his longish hair, he mutters, "This looks's cool," and I go, "Did you see those two girls outside the Quad talking behind their hands mocking your Beatles hairdo?"
He laughs as he puts the clippers back and zips up the kit. "I like this long hair and I'm staying with this style until you let me give you a haircut."
Before I can remind him he's already agreed his hair looks goofy Steve walks in holding out a text book, saying, "Success! A kid I know let me butt in line in front of a bunch of freshmen. Man, they look so young." Ryan says, "You should talk with that baby face of yours." Steve flops on the bed we were just sitting on, pointing at me, "Dylan looks younger than me, so what the fuck ya talking about?" I go, "Yeah, I look young but I'm incredibly mature. Just ask your roommate." Steve looks at Ryan, and Ryan goes, "Oh my God, yeah. Dylan's wicked mature." Looking at my wristwatch I go, "We've got time to, um, make the four o'clock class. I guess I'd feel better if we went to that orientation." Ryan shrugs, then groans, "Oh fuck, okay, if you want to. It'll be my first and only junior orientation." Steve does his really nice smile, mumbling, "Oh my God, Dylan is wicked mature and responsible." The real reason I decide to go to the orientation is to avoid a discussion with Robby about why I didn't go. Somehow he'd blamed Ryan. It's like those two are trying to find reasons not to like each other and I don't want to add fuel to that fire.
Steve says, "Have fun, boys," as we walk out the door. Ryan's wearing his back pack as he says over his shoulder, "You have fun putting all your shit away, dude." Ryan tells me, "Steve's been here forty-eight hours and most of his stuff is still unpacked." I shrug, "So what?" and Ryan goes, "Yeah, I guess, but you know I'm a neat freak, Dylan." I nod, "More like you have an obsessive compulsive disorder, that's if I can go by what I witnessed living with you." He squeezes the back of my neck, grinning, "It didn't take me long to get you shaped-up in that regard. You were putting your things where they belong, keeping your bathroom neat with no towels or dirty clothes on the floor, wipe out the sink and so forth." I go, "I know, I know, but I wasn't a slob to start with. Plus, you're a stubborn nag when you want to be." He says, "When I need to be, you mean. You got the message and shaped up in like three days." I mumble, "It took me three days to realize you were serious. I thought you were joking, fer chrissakes." Ha ha, I'm thinking of Chubby, smiling to myself. Ryan would have a heart attack if he stepped into Chubby's bedroom at home, or I'm sure his dorm room by the end of the week. I mumble, "Too bad you're not as concerned about your personal appearance, Rye." he goes, "Please don't start calling me Rye! I'm not bread, and Whaddaya mean my personal appearance? I'm neat." Messing his long hair as I'm giving him a 'look', he goes, "Oh that," and he finger-combs his hair, mumbling, "I already told you, my hair looks cool like this." I go, "Let's ask a random ten students what they think," and we rag on each other in a good natured way until we're outside the Ferguson Building.
I'm so glad we're feeling comfortable with each other again, and happy he's acting like the Ryan I'm used to. I smirk at him and squeeze his arm, saying, "I'm glad we're together again. I missed you!" He smiles, "Ditto, Dylan," then he sees someone and yells, "Rico, you owe me money!" A tall guy looks over at us and smiles, yelling back, "I paid you that twenty bucks last
semester." Ryan's chuckling and, handing me his backpack, says, "I'll be right back. That prick owes me twenty bucks from a bet we had on the Red Sox." I take his backpack and slip it over one shoulder watching Ryan jogging over and bumping fist with the tall guy and two other guys. Jeez, I never think of Ryan having friends, or I guess they're more like college acquaintances. Felix, earlier this afternoon seemed really glad to see Ryan. I guess last year I assumed Ryan's asshole roommate monopolized all his free time. There were stretches of a couple of weeks at a time last year when I'd see Ryan in class and when lifting weights, but that's all. I don't know what he was doing the rest of the time. Well that's not exactly accurate because he'd do study groups with us too. Still, there was a lot of time when he was doing something without Robby and me.
Five minutes later Ryan comes back and shows me the twenty dollar bill he got from that Rico. Then he takes the loose strap of his backpack and slips my other arm through the strap, saying, "You'll be in charge of backpacks," and he pats my hat. I look at him with a quizzical expression on my face and he grins, saying, "I'm your boss, remember?" I nod, chuckling, and mumbling, "Yes sir, boss." He's happy and I like playing along with him being the boss when it's just him and me. We only have this one class in common so we're probably not going to spend a hell of a lot of time together.
Walking into the class room we get seats halfway back from the professor. I take
Ryan's backpack off and sit down with it in my lap, then look inside. He watches me as I hold up each item from his backpack: pen and pencil container, two notebooks, his course agenda, four or five blue books, two granola bars, a bag of dried fruits and nuts, his student ID, hand sanitizer, a pocket book of 'Don Quixote', and breath mints. I pass him a breath mint and we chuckle about that. He goes, "Let me have the notebook, I've got a pen." I hand it to him and we listen to a middle-age male professor talk in a boring monotone. I can hardly keep my eyes open after five minutes.
Ryan's taking notes as I glance at him out of the corner of my eyes. He's conscientious about note taking, much the way Robby's conscientious in class. Ryan and I used to screw around goofing on each other early in our freshman year but Robby was diligent about insisting we be serious in class.
That apparently took with Ryan more so than with me. I'm rustling though his backpack again looking for one of those granola bars to give me a spark of energy when Ryan grabs my arm looking at me and shaking his head. Jesus, he's turned into Robby-the-second. I was thinking just the other day that Robby and Ryan are getting more alike all the time, even as they seem to like each other less. Huh! We survive the orientation and drift out with the other students, me wearing Ryan's backpack. Outside again, he says, "I'm glad we went to that," and I frown, asking, "Why's that?" He goes, "Weren't you listening? We need to do only short brown-nosing extra credit articles relating to our course title, 'Modern Society". The extra credit will override a bad test grade. We can copy articles off the hundreds of short news items online. Just print them out and copy word for word. Stress-free class." I nod, "Oh yeah, I heard him say something about that."
It's almost five o'clock by now and I'm wondering what Robby's up to, so I text him. He text back telling me to meet him at the Quad for a ride 'home'. I still don't think of the apartment as 'home' yet, but if Robby's there...
ha ha. That's what I was thinking recently: home is where Robby is. All of a sudden I badly want to see him. I say, "Ryan, honestly, it's been awesome spending time with my best friend this afternoon." He smiles, then leans forward and kisses me quickly on the lips. I resist looking around to check-out who saw him do that, as he says, "Thanks to you it's been great, and especially being 'buddies' again too." I go, "I'll say," as I reach around to feel if any of his cum has soaked through his handkerchief. None has, so I start to take off his backpack, but he goes, "No, walk with me to my dorm so you can get your barber stuff."
I'm sensing some good Marietta feelings towards Ryan, and that's not a bad
thing. I had a really good time there. Bumping his side grinning at him, he goes, "A touch of our old times, huh, Dylan?" I nod, "Yeah, it's nice.
Um, we only have the one class together so I hope we can hang out together other days too." He nods, "Me too. Text me and we'll definitely do that."
Feeling goofy again I nod my head much too energetically at that, making him laugh, then he seriously says, "If you want, Dylan, I'll do the buddy sex with you again right now." Oh, I didn't expect that, and go, "Um, what about your roommate?" He says, "I'll ask him to give us fifteen minutes, but you've gotta rim my ass this time. I've missed that soooo much. Whaddaya say?"
I reluctantly shake my head, "Nah, I can't, I told Rob I'd meet him at the Quad." He shrugs, "Just trying to do my best for my best friend." I go, "Ha, yeah, keep it up." He says, "Only around you, babe."
In his dorm room I take off the backpack as Steve looks up from his position lying on the bed, asking, "How was it boys?" I mumble, "As much fun as a barrel of rats." Ryan's looking around the room, muttering, "Jesus, Stevie, you didn't put a single thing away." Steve grins at me as he's nodding at Ryan, asking, "Was he like this when you stayed with him?" I chuckle, "Get used to it, dude. Your roommate has an obsessive compulsive disorder." He asks, "A neat freak, huh?" I nod, "Yep." Ryan hands me the barber kit, telling Steve, "I'll try to remember it only applies to me, Steve. You can be as sloppy as you feel you need to be." I push the toiletry kit back at Ryan, mumbling, "No, you hold on to the barber stuff, just in case, ya know?"
He nods, looking smug, and I go, "Well, it's been more than swell, but I gotta go now." Ryan drops the barber kit on his desk, saying, "Text me, Dylan," then puts a hand on my shoulder and leans in to again kiss me on the lips. Just a quick one, then he says, "See you soon, I hope." I nod my head glancing at the big eyes on Steve as he stares; looking like he can't believe Ryan kissed me right in front of him. This might very well be the first time he's ever seen two guys kiss. With a wave of my hand I'm out the door.
Walking toward the Quad I feel really good that Ryan and I are back on level ground again. I like his roommate too, but now I'm heading for the true love of my life. Life is good sometimes. Inside the Quad I'm looking for Robby and then see him at a table with Golden Summers and a really cute guy with longish blond hair wearing a Merrimack baseball cap. He's obviously a freshman sitting up straight and it looks like he's almost as tall as Golden, but with a much slimmer body. Could he be a ball player? He looks too small.
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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