DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter 9
by Donny Mumford
Lawyer and I are having coffees in the Quad. I bought a slice of apple pie with my first coffee and we shared the slice of pie alternating bites, passing the fork back and forth. It was kind of a turn-on watching Lawyer slide the fork out between his sexy lips. The apple pie was such a hit we're following it up with a slice of cherry pie, and it's Lawyer's turn to buy.
All smiles and smirks, he's just set the paper plate with a slice of cherry pie down in front of him. I'm swallowing the last of my coffee watching him cut the point off the slice of pie, hold it up so I can see the gooey cherry center, then he puts it in his mouth. Now that I know he's gay I don't feel self-conscious staring at him as he exaggerates chewing the forkful of pie, then swallows and says, "Yum." Cutting off a second portion of pie he passes the forkful of pie to me. I examine it for a second; then, looking Lawyer in the eyes, I put the pie in my mouth and imitate him by slowly drawing the fork out between my lips leaving the tines without a trace of the pie's cherry filling. He chuckles and we eat the whole piece of pie like that without speaking. As we're doing that I'm thinking how odd it is that Lawyer's a gay virgin, but not a hetero-virgin. He's had sex with two different girls saying his motivation for doing it was to prove to himself he wasn't gay. Ironically it proved that he was. He needed to picture in his head some guy he had a crush on at the time before he was able to perform his male duties during the sex act. Same thing was necessary the second time he tried heterosexual intercourse, and so that was that...
Done our second slice of pie we get up and dump the paper plates and cups in the trash, then walking down the steps as he mumbles, "That was as random as it gets," and I go, "For me the best part was sharing the fork with you." He laughs hugging my shoulders, then says, "You're a sexy motherfucker, ain't ya?" Grinning, I check my wristwatch and see it's almost five o'clock. Lawyer sees me checking the time, and asks, "Do you need to pick up Rob now?" I shake my head, "Nah, he'll text me when he ready to go, but I'm surprised how late it is." He says, "Uh huh, time flies. Um, since you have the time, c'mon to my dorm and, um... oh, never mind." I'm like, "What were you going to say, bro?" and he goes, "I practiced saying it in my head, but it's much harder saying it out loud." I go, "Oh, so what now? Am I expected to guess what you were going to say?" He laughs, "Yeah, do you think you can guess?" I shrug and do an elaborate fake cough, muttering, "Fuckin' cigarettes," making us both snort out a laugh. He knows my fake coughs are, um... fake.
I'm like, "Were you going to suggest we go to your dorm and watch TV?" He snickers, "No, we don't have a TV. My roommate was supposed to bring one from his bedroom, but when the time came to do that he couldn't be bothered." I mumble, "Fuckin' roommates, huh?" Another laugh from Lawyer and, as were walking in the general direction of dormitory-row, he asks, "Any more guesses what I wanted to ask you, but chickened-out?" Obviously it has something to do with gay sex, but I fake ignorance, mumbling, "Oh, you just gave me a clue. It was going to be a question, huh?" He nods his head, grinning, "Uh huh." My second joking-guess, "Um, were you going to ask me something about an Xbox?" and he goes, "Well, we do have an Xbox in the dorm. That's not what I was gonna ask about though." I name a couple of other silly things
and he finally says, "You're not too good at guessing what someone wants to ask you, are you?" I shake my head, mumbling, "No, I blow at guessing games." He chuckles, then says, "It's nothing major. It involves a common practice us human beings do routinely." He turns to go down a row of dormitory buildings, so I follow him, asking, "Do you think you could tell me what that is?" and he bumps shoulders with me, saying, "It has to do with me never kissing another guy. Um, and I'd like to do that with you. Kiss with a guy; you being the aforementioned, um, guy." I say, "Well aren't you a hot shit! Yeah, okay, let's do that. "He nods his head a few times, saying, "Yes! I got it out! I'm so proud of myself." Lawyer does not seem like a kid from the hood, so I ask, "Where you from, Lawyer." He says, "New York City," and I'm like, "Let me guess, your dad's a lawyer." He laughs, "No, you guessed wrong again. It's my mom who's the lawyer. My dad's a doctor and when I was born they flipped a coin to come up with my name. I could have been Doctor Ross, if tails had come up." I go, "No shit?" He nods, "Yep, guess who my favorite NFL player was when I was a kid." I go, "Lawyer Malloy?" and he's like, "How'd you guess?"
We stop in front of a dormitory, one of the older brick ones, and he says, "As you might imagine I feel like a total dork asking you to let me kiss you, but you said you were awesome at keeping secrets and we did share that fork eating pie, so who better than you to have my first gay kiss with.
And, in case you're wondering, I'm so nervous and excited about it I think I've already peed my pants, but I'm afraid to look." I look at his crotch, then say, "You're parents will be so proud of you, Lawyer, you haven't pissed your pants yet." He laughs, but he definitely does seem nervous. He's fidgety, moving his feet in place, his hands going in and out of the front pockets of his sweatshirt, as he says, "My parents won't be hearing about this for a number of years. I've yet to set a date in my mind for telling them their only son is gay." I nod, "Uh huh, um, do you want to do the kiss right here, or...?" He goes, "Oh, fuck no! Inside, behind closed doors with the shades down." I go, "To be really safe maybe we should do the kiss in the closet." He laughs again mumbling, "Good idea," then, "Oh fuck, let's go inside before I punk-out again."
His room is on the first floor and it's a mess. I look around seeing clothes and towels laying on the floor along with fast food wrappers and unidentified reading materials, along with an open suitcase and candy wrappers. I mutter, "How'd you and your roommate manage to fuck-up this room so badly in only three days?" He glances around, and goes, "Yeah, neither of us is especially neat," and he starts picking stuff up off the floor and throwing it in a corner, mumbling, "I'll straighten this stuff out later." I watch for a minute, then say, "Um, don't clean-up on my account, Lawyer." He stops and grins at me, saying, "I was just kidding about the kiss." Nodding my head, I go, "Okay, you wanted me to see your room then, is that it?" He takes his hat off and tosses it on the desktop disturbing the many CD cases among
the other clutter on the desk top. Rubbing his nose he goes, "No, I lied again, I do want that kiss, but first I gotta take a piss so I don't pee myself during the kiss." I'm like, "Good idea. I need to take a piss too; coffee ya know? It goes right through me."
We walk down the corridor toward the lavatory passing a couple of shirtless guys drinking bottles of beer while leaning up against the wall and arguing about which quarterback is the greatest of all time. One kid giggles, then slurs, "It's Joe Brady," and the other says, "No, the GOAT has gotta be Tom Montana. And the fact you never saw him play doesn't mean shit." I smell weed too which accounts for the giggling, and for them getting the first names of the quarterbacks mixed-up. Lawyer laughs at them as we go into the lavatory, then he asks me, "Who do you think's the greatest quarterback is?" I go, "Tom Brady, obviously. Both Brady and Montana have four SuperBowl wins, so it's close, but I give the nod to Tom because Montana had an advantage winning his rings before the salary cap era." He goes, "Yeah and Brady got to six Superbowl games compared to Joe's four." Standing at urinals, with two urinals between us, Lawyer adds, "Didn't Terry Bradshaw have four SuperBowl rings too?" I go, "Uh huh, but he couldn't spell SuperBowl if you gave him the 'S' and the 'B', so disregard him." Lawyer laughs; he's always laughing. Washing our hands at the sinks he looks around, then whispers, "Seriously, will you do the kiss with me?" I mumble, "Well, do I need to
kiss back?" he laughs, "Of course! You've got the experience, motherfucker! Don't break my balls." I go, "Well, since you put it that way, okay.
Shall we do it here?" He shakes his head, muttering, 'What a prick! No, not here! In my dorm room's closet, like you suggested."
As we pass the two pot heads in the hall on our way back to the room, I tell them, "Don't forget Terry Bradshaw," and for some reason they both giggle at that. We're almost to Lawyer's room when I hear one of the guys say to the other, "Isn't Bradshaw the goofy looking fuck on the FOX pre-game show?" The other guy says, "Yeah, I think he is. The one wearing the clown wig, right?" Lawyer and I chuckle at that as we go into his room. The door closes and I say, "Okay, lets do this!" and put my hand on the back of his neck. He nods his head, licks his lips and leans toward me as I lean towards him. Our lips meet and we do a nice closed-mouth two-second kiss. He says, "It's just like kissing a girl," and I go, "Duh! Lips are lips, although your's yours are sexier than most." He grins, "Was that a partially hidden stereotypical racial remark?" I say, "Nope, just a fact. Lets try it for real this time," and we do. This time my fingers are in the hair on the back of his head. His hair is longish and kinky but very soft. Our mouths open slightly and our tongues slide together. Neither of us gets carried away, but it gets my dick waking-up and squirming around a little in my jockey shorts. Lawyer steps back nodding his head, quietly saying, "Thanks, that was cool and, dude, you smell good too." I go, "One more time," and he's okay with that. This time he wraps his arms around me and gives me a big tight hug.
It's a sexy and slightly sloppy five or six second kiss with his tongue primarily in my mouth. A really hot kiss and my dick firms-up nicely before we end it. Our lips make a wet-smacking sound when we part and he laughs, saying, "That gave me a boner. Oh man, that was so hot!" I nod my head, "Yeah, you gave me a boner too. So now you've shared a kiss with another guy and you can move on from there." He rubs his face, then looks at me and serious ly asks, "You're not telling anyone we kissed, right? Not even Rob." I hold up three fingers like a Boy Scout, "Scouts honor," and he goes, "I'm serious." I say, "So am I, Lawyer. I respect your privacy, your secret is safe with me." He relaxes and grins, "Thanks, I totally believe you."
He seems quite pleased with himself, so I tell him, "Ya know, gay kissing isn't usually how your typical novice gay guy starts out. In fact some gay guys wouldn't think of kissing even though they do oral sex and anal intercourse." He frowns, asking, "Why's that?" I shrug, "I'm not sure. Maybe they think kissing a guy is too queer." He says, "That's weird." I hold my hands
out, palms up, like, 'What'll we do now?' He goes, "Oh man, that's it for me today. That kissing was a major first step for me." I think he's serious so I nod, like I'm serious too. For something to say, I go, "Well, I usually like a cigarette after sex, so would you join me outside?" He laughs, "Hey, don't make fun of me, man. That kiss was a huge step forward for me."
As we're leaving the room he's got his arm across my shoulders, saying, "This could be the start of a whole new life for me." I say, "Yeah, assuming you can find another gay guy who's willing to share a kiss with you." He laughs, "Yeah, well you know what I meant. This was a big hurtle for me to overcome." Outside again, I light a Marlboro trying to imagine myself at twenty-two, like Lawyer, just having my first intimate contact with another guy, even though I'd known for a few years that I'm gay. Of course, I was seventeen before I even found out I was gay, so I suppose that's equally hard to believe.
Sitting on the dormitory steps with Lawyer, I exhale a stream of smoke, asking him, "Did you ever smoke cigarettes, say in high school?" He shakes his head, "Nope, never cigarettes. I went through a phase as a freshman here at Merrimack where I was smoking too much dope, but gave that up after a couple of weeks. I'll drink a beer now and then, and maybe get drunk now and again too, so I'm not perfect," and he laughs, then says, "You wanna get drunk with me sometime, Dylan?" I'm like, "Sure, do you ever go to Tracy's?"
He mumbles, "Yeah, but not recently." I shrug and say, "Ya know, I overdid the pot thing too and I told myself never again, but then just recently I relapsed and had a really bad experience with it. Learned my lesson a second time." He goes, "I hear ya. Hey, someone told me Tracy built a bar next to the outdoor speak easy." I nod, "Yeah, it's cool. It's not next to the speakeasy though, it's part of it," then my cellphone beeps. It's Robby saying he's ready to go. Nodding at my cellphone, I tell Lawyer, "Text from Rob," and I stand up, adding, "I gotta go, but that was an awesome kiss, my man." He stands too and we bump fists as he says, "Maybe you'll help me with my next gay move." I nod, grinning, "Count on me anytime, Lawyer." We walk down the last three steps as he asks, "Aren't you afraid Rob will find out you're cheating on him?" I go, "No, because I'm not cheating on him. We have an agreement, an arrangement, where we allow each other a little buddy sex on the side occasionally. It's not something a lot of boyfriends could pull off perhaps, but it works for us. Anyway, what you and I do stays private between you and me. You'd have to tell someone we kissed, or whatever, because I never will." He pats my back, "Thanks, Dylan. Don't be a stranger, man." I wave my hand and walk towards the parking lot where Robby's pickup is parked.
As I'm sauntering past dormitories I grin to myself because my encounter with Lawyer was so completely unexpected, and like he said, random. Damn, I like that guy. He's a cool, likable gay guy. Kind of hard for me to believe he's a virgin considering how good looking he is, and he's got an awesome personality too. Being realistic, I imagine it's not all that unusual for a twenty-two year old closeted gay guy to be a virgin. I've been lucky to encounter way more then my share of gay sex buddies. Historically though it's the twenty-something year old gay virgin guys who were lucky in the eighties. I mean, that's when the horror of AIDS first broke out and no one knew what the fuck was going on. Living during that time as a gay must have been a horrific nightmare. If someone as promiscuous as me was born forty-five or fifty years ago they'd be dead before their thirtieth birthday... or sooner. Man, that makes me so sad.
Taking a deep breath, I'm like, WHOA! Dude, think about something else! Nature can be such a bitch. Walking slowly, smelling the back of my hand, I start counting my blessings and there are so many of them my eyes water.
Then, a more pleasant thought as Dougie Hamilton's face flashes past my brain.
It's probably because I'm smelling the back of my hand. I snort out a chuckle realizing I got this back-of-my-hand habit from Dougie. I need to look him up and see how he's doing. I haven't run into him so far this year, but why should that surprise me? I mean, there are more than five thousand students enrolled at Merrimack. Jesus, just imagine the campus on larger big name universities where thirty thousand students are enrolled. Hell, if I don't run into guys from my freshman and junior years here, what would it be like with five or six times the number of students? So many guys, and yet so relatively few of them are gay, never mind exceptionally good looking.
Speaking of good looking, I'm glancing around hoping to get another look at Hoodie Boy. He's no where nowhere to be seen though, and I still haven't got a close enough look at him to know if he even qualifies as exceptionally good looking.. Then, sucking on my lips, I'm like, 'Damn, that was a good kiss with Lawyer'.
There's Rob's pickup, exactly where we left it. I drive it to the baseball complex and see Robby with Frankie and Beth standing outside the entrance.
Goddammit, those girls are like gum on Robby's sneaker, and both girls are wearing our baseball caps. Jesus, that's a pain in the ass! No Golden in sight, so maybe Robby wants me and Beth to double date with him and Frankie...
not! Those girls are seriously beginning to get on my nerves. I'm sitting in the idling truck watching them walk over to me with the girl's showing big mischievous smiles. How can they always seem so happy? Robby's not showing a big smile though. His facial expression is more like, 'I have nothing to do with this!' Whatever this might be. The girls, in their usual bubbly manner, say at the same time, "We're taking you and Rob out to dinner tonight, Dylan. It's to thank you for having us over your place for dinner last night. It'll totally be our treat!" I'm like, "Oh, that's not necessary."
Shit, and I thought I was being sarcastic a minute ago thinking we'd be on a double date. Robby says, "Isn't that nice of the girls, Dylan?" I go, "Ha, yeah," nodding my head.
Well I suppose it is generous of them. Beth opens the passenger door and gets in sliding over on the bench seat right next to me, saying, "You're my date since Golden is busy tonight." I go, "Oh, huh, um.." and she adds, "Would you be good enough to drop Frankie and me off at our dorm, and then you boys can shower and make yourselves gorgeous." I'm like, "Ha, yeah, I guess." She says, "Frankie and I are taking you two hunks to Bertucci's." I go,
"Huh, that's very nice of you." Frankie's getting in the front seat too, so I go, "There's a back seat," and she says, "That's no fun," then steps aside, looking at Robby, "You should get in first Robert, and I'll sit on your lap." Robert? Robby says, "No, get in the back," and Frankie pulls on his arm, "This'll be fun!" Robby gets in frowning and shrugging, without making eye contact with me as I glare at him. Fact is we don't know how to handle these girls. Frankie climbs up on Robby's lap and closes the door. I mutter, "Where's your dorm?" I suppose I may have said that in a less than enthusiastic manner because Beth says, "Don't be grumpy, Dylan," then she directs me to their dormitory with Frankie telling us, "Bertucci's usually puts out very good food. Get this though; Beth and I ate at a small restaurant in Boston. I think it was on Tremont Street; this was last summer. Anyway the food tasted kind of funny. Only later did we learn that the chef used to be a clown in the circus, so that explains the funny food." Frankie laughs as Robby mutters, "That's a terrible joke," and I mumble, "Clowns aren't funny in the first place." Frankie ignores my negativity and says, "A man walks into a bar with a grilled cheese sandwich in his armpit. He says to the bartender, 'Give me a draft beer and one for my grilled cheese sandwich too.' The bartender says, "Sorry, pal, but we don't serve food in here."
Robby snorts a laugh, and then during the three minutes it takes me to drive them to their dorm the girls tells three more corny short jokes like that last one. Ya gotta chuckle at how terrible the jokes are and how persistent the girls are at taking turns telling bad jokes one after the other..
At their dorm Frankie gets off Robby's lap, then he gets out, and finally Beth gets out, asking, "What time are you picking us up?" Robby looks at me, then says, "Seven o'clock?" like it's a question. Frankie gives him a kiss near his mouth, saying, "Seven is perfect." Robby's getting back in the pickup as I mumble to the girls, "Um, you two do recall us mentioning we're gay, right?" Frankie waves her hand at me, "Yes, of course. See you boys at seven." Under his breath, Robby say, "Just drive the fuck away, Dylan." As I do that, he asks sarcastically, "Weren't you the one who said we'd be more, um, rounded I believe it was, with some girls as friends?" I'm like, "Couldn't you tell them we had plans for tonight?" and he goes, "I get tongue tied with those two. Anyway, fuck it, why turn down a free dinner at Bertucci's?" I mumble, "Guess you're right. We don't have many of those." I get the green light and go right across route 114 with no sweat. As I'm driving around to building, Robby says, "They're kind of fun though, don't ya think?" I shrug, "Yeah, I suppose. It's hard getting used to girls who act like guys. Well, not act like guys exactly, but they're not like most girls."
Robby goes, "We haven't had a ton of experience with most girls obviously, but why not think of Frankie and Beth as friends, and leave it at that." For
once I find a parking spot halfway down the line of cars, and back the pickup into it. Robby goes, "Nicely done, Dylan." Ha! Another compliment! I love compliments from him.
Going up the steps to our floor, I'm like, "Yeah, but do those two girls qualify as friends, I mean... already?" Robby says, "I like them okay, don't you?" Shrugging, I say, "Yeah, I guess I do, but it's something very new so I'm not sure yet." Walking into our apartment, Robby grabs hold of me, and goes, "This isn't new though," and he hugs me from behind. As the front door closes I turn around face to face with him and we do a really nice kiss making me think of the earlier kiss with Lawyer, and wishing I could tell Rob about it. He'd think it was kinda cute. Thoughts of Lawyer don't last long in my brain though as Robby's lips and tongue almost immediately have me thinking of only him. With our faces together we both drop our pants right here in the living room. Our pants around our ankles, we hug and make-out as our hardening cocks rub together. I'm soon murmuring, "Mmmm, oooh, mmm, Robby." Having dinner with the girls is completely forgotten now that Robby and I are alone and horny for each other. He gasps as our lips part, then he murmurs, "Turn around, babe." I do as I'm told, and bend forward grabbing my knees, looking back at Robby's hard fat cock. The head pokes my tight anus and begins spreading the lips.
With his hands resting on the small of my back, Robby humps the head of his cock inside me. It tightly passes my sphincter muscle as my back arches, and I go, "Ooh!" Bending forward, Robby gets both arms around my stomach, his chest resting on my back, as he slowly pulls me backwards onto his boner. His fat hard organ stretching my anus while spreading the walls of my rectum. Anus nerve-endings light-up and send mixed signals at first; does it hurt or feel good? For me the good nerve-ending win out quickly and make me shudder with pleasure. Then the fat hard head of Robby's boner, sliding over my prostate makes me moan again, "Mmm, ooh," everything feels so good. My
walnut sized prostate gland sizzles with pleasure sensations like nothing else I've ever felt. It's always, every time, a thrill for me to experience Robby's cock up my ass. When all of his four-plus fat inches of boner are inside me Robby humps against my buttocks a few times while rubbing his hands up and down my back, murmuring, "Feel good, Dylan?" I murmur, "Mmmm, uh huh, really good, Rob."
He lets my rectum adjust for a bit, then pulls his throbbing cock back, waits a second, then slides it forward again. "Mmmm, oooh," as my shoulders do their normal shuddering and I inhale deeply with a warm loving feeling in my heart for Robby. Oh my God, all the pleasure he provides me! It's so intimate sharing our bodies for sexual pleasure with our true love of a lifetime shimmering all around us. Bottoming for Robby always makes me feel submissive, and it doesn't matter if he's acting dominant or not. Perhaps there could be circumstances where the 'bottom' sex partner is the dominant one, but it never feels like that to me. Having a guy's hard cock up my ass always makes me feel submissive to him, which just adds to the pleasure of anal sex. There isn't anything in the world more pleasurable for me than being penetrated by a 'top's' hard cock, except of course the final amazing orgasm that follows. So, oh yeah, the feeling of that boner inside me moving back and forth is erotically pleasurable to such a degree it's hard to imagine what could be better; except, like I said, the orgasmic climax. Anal sex is always a thrill for me, but doing it with Robby is the highlight of my life.
Three, then four minutes of slow penetrations with both of us experiencing the sexual pleasure of it all, as we both moan softly. Then, as his orgasm builds and builds, Robby's hips begin moving faster. We both get greedy and want that final explosive climax of sheer animalistic pleasure. He thrusts faster yet, taking us into the slapping phase of two males fucking; his crotch slapping rhythmically against my ass cheeks, "Slap, slap, slap, slap." He humps his boner inside me even faster now and it's almost a desperate reckless rush to climax... we're both way past the point of no return.
"Slapslapslap," sounds continue as he hammers his cock up my ass, and from me, "Oh, ooh, ooh, OOH!' and I squeal with my body tight, my hips humping, and creamy youthful semen streaming up then pouring out of my super sensitized hard cock. Streaks of semen, one after the other, two then three sizzle from my boner as I tightly close my eyes absorbing as much of the thrilling pleasure as I can. Then, stroking my cock tightly brings out a short drool of goo leaving me gasping and shaking even as I feel warmth and wetness inside me now. Robby grunts, humping against my buttocks shooting his load up my ass. Like me, mere seconds earlier, Robby's climax reached it's peak and exploded with all the sensations of orgasm spreading over his body. Rasping breathing now as he thrusts his cock a few more times in my ass sliding in his own warm gooey spunk. Our hearts beat fast as we take gulping deep breaths, and when he steps back pulling his cock from my ass, I feel so empty back there I whine, "No, ooh." Robby gasps, then slides his slippery hard boner back up inside me and we both sigh, "Ahhh." Another two minutes or so of lazily thrusting his firm cock inside me, my body limply flopping forward and back until Robby pulls his cock out again and mumbles, "That felt so fucking good. Jesus, I needed that..." His cum is running out of my ass, down and around to the back of my scrotum. I take another deep breath, then straighten up sighing and feeling fine. Robby hugs me, "Ya okay, babe?" I mutter, "Oh yeah, that was so good, Rob."
He gives me a wet kiss, then says, "Let's shower together. I like the feel of your awesome body, slippery with bath gel. Squeezing your perfect ass is fun too, and maybe a few wet slaps as well." His arm goes around the back of my neck as he mutters, "I don't know, I just might need to do you again in the shower." I nod my head, grinning, and saying, "How romantic, Rob.
You have a gift for words." He grins, pulling the side of my face against his, saying, "Gift for words, my ass." Oh my God, I'm feeling so good, so happy and so lucky to be Robby's boyfriend. I enthusiastically say, "And don't forget me sucking my man's cock, Rob." Hugging me, he kisses again, swaying us side to side a little. Then both of us are stepping out of our pants that have been around our ankles from the start. I gather our clothes up off the floor and carry everything into the bedroom with Robby asking, "Don't you think our sex is getting better all the time?" I go, "It's hard to believe it could be any better. Sex with you is so special that I can't really describe it, but you're definitely right about it getting better every time we do it. We probably should do it more often though, don'cha think?"
and he laughs and rubs my head, "I love you, Dylan Newman." He puts an arm around my waist and gives a squeeze, adding, "You make me feel awesome, babe."
Standing naked in the bathroom Robby's wiping his cum off my ass as we decide postponing the shower. Instead we pull on sweat pants and t-shirts, then take turns ironing khaki pants and button-up-the-front shirts as we goof on each other about dressing-up for our 'dates'. While he irons I take thirty seconds to clean up my cum streaks off the hardwood floor in the living room. After ironing, I'm putting the ironing board away with Robby grinning at me, saying, "You know, babe, me being head of the household and all that, um, you should probably be doing all the ironing from now on. Whaddaya think?" I say, "You're kidding, but they'll come a time after we're married and have a little rug rat running around and I will be doing all that kind of stuff." He grabs a handful of my hair and pulls it a little, murmuring, "That picture you've just described gives me a hard on, babe," and he kisses me, adding, "You're so awesome! Not everyone is confident enough about themselves to accept the role of stay at home dad; certainly not as readily as you, and I love you all the more for it." I lean against him, murmuring, "We both can't be head of the household, and you'll be a much better one than I could be."
lt.'s only six o'clock so we have time for a beer and a cigarette on the balcony before getting dressed for our phony 'dates'. Every day it gets cooler outside so I put my new hoodie sweatshirt on over the t-shirt, and Robby goes, "Would it piss you off if I bought that exact hoodie for myself? I really like it." I shrug, "Nah, and anyway, you've already copied my haircut so you might as well dress like me too." He goes, "The Bobbsey Twins ride again, right?" I nod, grinning at him, and loving him so much it almost hurts. Then I say, "Chubby used to buy the same clothes as me. It just shows you two guys have good taste." He laughs, and goes, "Yeah, well you have good taste in clothes and, I might add, in boyfriends too." I give the back of his neck a squeeze. Ah, love is so sweet! We get sappy, and overdo it something terrible occasionally, but only when it's just the two of us; we're
aware our sappiness could easily cause an innocent bystander to hurl his guts up.
We eventually do take a shower together. After we've shampooed and washed one another; then, with the shower water still flowing down on us, I suck his cock until it's really, really hard. As always happens, I get a hard boner myself in the process. Robby's grunting and moaning, rubbing my head and he almost climaxes in my mouth, but at the last second changes his mind and pulls away, saying, "I want to feel my hard dick inside you again." I'm swishing his precum around in my mouth as we do it standing this time. My back against his chest, Robby's arm goes around the front of my neck pulling my head back to his shoulder. He gives my ass a hard fucking, grunting with each dominant thrust up my ass. Oh fuck, it's sensational and eventually my climax blows out even hotter then the first one an hour or so ago. We've been in a sexual zone since arriving at Merrimack, a hot sexy zone that probably can't last all year, but we're running with it for now. Perhaps we're making up for lost opportunities last summer when Robby had to work late after I got back from Georgia. Whatever, this latest shower orgasm was so intense it felt almost like I had a stroke or something. Every nerve ending in my body erupted simultaneously with intense pleasure and my vision blacked out momentarily. What a fantastic orgasm! The way Robby was a little rough about it, pulling my head back onto his shoulder, and the talk of him being head of the household got me hot and squirmy to start with; it's the perfect vision I have for Robby and me. I think it's his perfect vision as well. He climaxed thirty seconds after I did, almost lifting me off my toes humping against my ass while blowing another load of spunk up inside me.
Gasping, he lets go of me, then we both, without saying anything, sit down on the floor of the shower stall breathing hard with the water pouring down on us.
After thirty seconds or so Robby rubs my wet head, saying, almost wistfully, "You really like a good hard fucking, don'cha babe?" I go, "Yep, and you do it best. Um, you like it too, right Rob?" He nods, "Oh fuck yeah, it's really hot. Mostly I like pleasing you though." That's so sweet I smile at him, and he goes, "And seriously, thank you for acquiescing to my vision of our married life." Oh yeah, sometimes I forget it's Robby's original plans for us that I now embrace as my own. I was a little skeptical about some aspects of it when he first proposed it, but I've come around entirely to his way of thinking, and that's the way it should be with him the head of the household. We can't both be the boss, and he'll be a better one than I could ever be." I lean over so my shoulder's against his and he puts his arm around me, taking another deep breath. I sigh contentedly and he snorts out a chuckle, so I look at him with half a grin on my face, and he says, "Dylan, sometimes I can hardly believe we're gonna be together like this forever. It's mind-blowingly awesome to think about that and realize how perfectly we fit together, how perfectly in tune we are with each other." I lay the side of my head against his shoulder, smiling, and feeling insanely happy.
Eventually Robby hugs my shoulders, mumbling, "We better get out of the shower, baby, don't want to be late for our first double date together."
Nodding my head and standing up with him, I turn off the shower thinking that even though we only mentioned married life in passing... mentioned it only casually a little while ago, still somehow it makes me feel we've finally and wonderfully solidified our roles. Especially when Robby, almost off-handedly, acknowledges that he's the head of our household. It wasn't too long ago he'd joke about it. Now he's the one who mentioned it, and that makes me want to please him so much. I feel like we're glowing as we dry ourselves and dressed without talking. We exchange a few grins, obviously feeling good about being us. Life can seem so perfect! At times Robby shows me his super confident grin and it gives me goosebumps. I'm trying to think back to when I first noticed that particular grin, and it was probably shortly after I returned from Georgia. Something changed, something solidified our relationship. Whatever it is, it gives me a safe optimistic feeling that everything is going to be okay.
As we're going down the steps to the parking lot on our way to pick up the
girls, I can't help but think back to earlier days when Chubby would set me up with a double date. Usually it'd be with his girlfriend's sister or her best friend. Maybe Chub was trying to give me the chance to experience heterosexual sex, although it never happened. Fact is, from the first time that pig, Carl Denton, fucked me I knew I was gay, and I was fine with being gay. I also knew right away I really liked being the 'bottom' during sex, and being submissive to my 'top'. I liked it a lot! Nothing's changed since then, although I've found sex with almost anyone is better than it was with fat Carl. Consequently, whenever I've had the opportunity to be a guy's first cherry-popping sex partner I've tried my very best to make it really good for him because I know how bad Carl made it for me. Then I've gotta marvel at my road from fat, pimply Carl Denton to this dream lover, Rob Dickers ... quite a journey! I'm where I want to be and, glancing over at Robby, I feel he's everything I've ever fantasized for a perfect boyfriend and lover.
He's perfect.
Robby parks at the curb near the girls' dorm. We see them outside chatting with a couple of other girls and when Rob toots the horn they all look over at us. As they walk towards us I hop out of the pickup to avoid the awkwardness Robby experienced earlier with Frankie sitting on his lap. All four girls come over to us and Beth wraps her arms around my right arm, like she
did in the ballpark bleachers. She says to the two unknown girls, "Isn't he gorgeous?" I roll my eyes, pulling my arm away as one of her friends asks me, "How old were you when you graduated high school? Fifteen or sixteen?"
I frown, "Whaddaya mean?" and Robby says, "C'mon, get in here." I lead the way getting in the back with Beth following me, then Frankie gets in the shotgun seat. The backseat is narrow and my knees hit the back of Robby's seat, so it's not real comfortable but it's only a five minute ride to Bertucci's. The two un-introduced friends of Frankie and Beth drift off. Robby drives away, asking, "How ya doing, ladies?" At the far end of Merrimack's campus, near the chapel, Bertucci's is just across the street. Students can easily walk there although crossing route 125, and then the crossover of route 114; that can be challenging. During the short ride I feel weird and out of place sitting next to Beth. It's not that I don't like her because she's okay, but this sense of being on a date feels as phony as it gets. If I knew these two girls better, and Frankie was sitting back here with Beth and I was in her shotgun seat, it would seem more real to me. Pretending we're on a date is wrong and I think it's mostly Robby's fault for allowing the girls to dictate seating arrangements. After all, they're his fan club, not mine.
One good thing though; I don't need to come up with conversation because I
couldn't get a word in edgewise anyway. The girls are chatterboxes, although I'm not paying much attention to what they're chattering about. Robby mostly chuckles or mutters, "Uh huh." Up until this year the four people going to dinner in this pickup would most likely be Robby, me, Chubby and probably Ryan. It's no longer a comfortable situation when Robby and Ryan are involved however, and that's too bad. I don't really know how it got to be like this although my Georgia trip has to be partially to blame, but it gotta be more than that... doesn't it? Frankie turns her head to ask me, "Dylan, do you know why most guys give a name to their penis?" I'm like, "What...?"
and Beth says, "It's because they don't want a total stranger making all their decisions for them." Robby laughs and I nod my head grinning, and asking, "Ya got any more put-down jokes for guys?" Beth says, "Do you know why females aren't usually very good at math?" I shrug, and she says, "It's because we're suppose to believe this much," and she holds two fingers about two inches apart, "Is eight inches." I go, "Boo!" These girls and their fucking jokes... Jesus! Inside the restaurant we get seated in a booth with Robby and me on one side and the girls on the other. I made that happen by stepping in front of Frankie before she could sit next to Robby. Okay, this is more like it. A minute later an officious middle-aged woman tells us she'll be our waitress tonight. Huh, she doesn't seem too happy about it. Maybe she's had bad experiences with Merrimack students in the past. Whatever, it's her job, so she really needs to drop the pissy attitude. The waitress doesn't introduce herself like she's supposed to, but I see her name tag that indicates she's, 'Pat'. She drops four menus on the table and says one word, making it a question, "Drinks?" Frankie says, snottily, "I'll have a Coke, if it's not too much trouble." Pat ignores the sarcasm and scribbles something on a small pad she's holding, as Beth says, "A lemonade, please." More scribbling, then Pat lifts only her eyes looking at Robby and me. We both order iced tea and she stalks away. "What's her problem?" Beth asks, and Frankie says, "Remember when we waitressed a couple of summers ago in Falmouth. It was at the Bays Inn, and we hated the low tipping teens." Beth goes, "Oh yeah, that's probably it," and they tell us waitressing misadventure getting Robby laughing and me sort of grinning; just to be polite, ya know.
I'm glad the girls ordered soft drinks, thus avoiding the need for me to order a peer-pressure alcoholic beverage that I don't want. As they converse, I'm doing my normal glancing around looking for some eye-candy without spotting even one cute guy. Well, ha ha, we're not on the Wildwood boardwalk.
Then I notice my companions are silently looking at me now, so I assume someone asked me a question. I go, "What was that?" and Frankie says, "Rob said he'd go to Saturday's frat party with us, so how about you, sweetie?"
I'm frowning, muttering, "Um, I don't care for that 'sweetie' nickname, for one thing," adding, like Beth said to the waitress, "If you don't mind."
Robby says, "He'll come with us, won't ya, Dylan." BALLS! I mumble, "I guess, um, but what about Golden? I thought Beth..." Hell, I didn't even know there was a frat party Saturday night. Beth says, "Golden's busy Saturday night." I'm thinking Golden needs to be less busy so he can take Beth off my hands. I can't help but wonder why the fuck these girls don't hustle a couple of straight guys? I mean, another pretend date tomorrow night with gay guys ...really? The girls are as bubbly as ever, choosing I suppose to ignore my less than enthusiastic endorsement of Saturday night. Robby either was too nice agreeing to go, or perhaps he's enjoying the attention he's getting from Frankie. He seems to be having a good time chuckling along with both girls. Beth's latest joke involves a large man walking into a bar. He's a big man, but his head is weirdly the size of a soft ball. When he orders a beer
the bartender gawks at this guy's little head, asking, 'What's with your head, dude?' Softball-head is used to that question and explains how he ran into a genie a year ago. Naturally she said he could have one wish and his wish was to have sex with the genie. The genie said it's the only wish in the world she can't fulfill, so the guy says, 'In that case, how about giving me a little head?' Okay, that's pretty good and we snort out laughs.
The dinner goes by surprisingly quickly and I even laugh at some of the girl's outlandish observations about... well, about anything and everything.
Instead of me searching out the few negatives of hanging out with these two, I need to give the girls more credit. Being fair about it, they're pretty good company. They sure know how to enjoy themselves, and they appear to be having fun hooking up with us gay guys. When I listen closely to everything they say, and the way they say it, I can't detect a single example of them having fun at Rob's or my expense. They sincerely appear to be having a good time, and sincerely appear to be very fond of Robby. They ignore my spells of grumpiness, treating it with good humor instead of acknowledging that I'm being a spoiled -brat, pain in the ass. For my part, it's just that I think hanging out with guys is more fun. There's usually something about almost any guy I'm with that I find attractive; something I admire or enjoy seeing or fantasizing about. Frankie is definitely cute and perky, while Beth is definitely a sexy girl, but as far as I'm concerned, good for them, but there's nothing I'm attracted too. Also it'd be better if they wouldn't pretend we're two couples; Beth and me, Robby and Frankie. I guess that's my bottom line because, except for the pretend couples thing, I like them okay. They remind me a little bit of the ex-posse boys' girlfriends in that they're very nice to me. I guess I don't know how to adequately explain how I feel about the girls. Robby's way more into them than me, but even if he were heterosexual back in high school he was too shy then to interact with the girls, so maybe he's making up for that now that he's not hardly shy at all.
True to their word the girls pay for our dinners. They both give the bored waitress a credit card so the bill can be split in half. Robby doesn't suggest he and I pay our share, which I'm glad about, although, ha ha, I can't say I'm surprised. My boyfriend is tight with a buck at times and, anyway, the girls asked us out to dinner... it wasn't our idea. We thank them and, as we're walking out, Frankie tells us she wants to go to Tracy's speakeasy now. Robby has a nine o'clock class tomorrow morning, and my Friday class is at nine-thirty. It's the class Ryan's in with me. Anyway I can tell Robby would rather get to bed early tonight, as he looks at me, "What do you think, Dylan? A couple of beers at Tracy's?" I force a smile, "Okay." Robby should have been a little more in-charge and not put the onus on me to say 'no'. It's the girls throwing Robby a little off his game. But really, since the girls paid for our dinner I feel kinda obligated to spend some time with them afterwards. In the back seat with Beth again, I can't help wondering how much of a tip the girls left for our piss-poor waitress. I'm not curious enough to ask though. Then Robby asks, "What'd you leave as a tip for
the waitress from hell?" Frankie goes, "I put fifteen percent on my half of the bill," and Beth goes, "I did too, although she didn't deserve it." I guess I'd have done the same. Tipping is a pain in the ass though.
At Tracy's there a couple of heaters for the outside deck, which is fairly
crowded for a Thursday night. Even with the heaters though it's still feels kind of chilly, so I suggest, "Let's go inside." Beth points at the sign next to the door that reads 'Private club: Members Only' and I go, "No problem," and get out the membership card Tracy gave me last weekend. At the door the big strong, preppy looking bouncer, Rex, looks at my membership card raising his eyebrows, nodding his head at me, like, 'Way to go, dude' , then he says, "Welcome, and there won't be any charge for your guests, Dylan." Huh, I guess there's something special about my membership card, and I can thank Tracy for that. I didn't even pay a membership fee. This free special membership card isn't just because Tracy and I fuck. He gave it to me because we're friends. The buddy sex between us might have been the beginning of our friendship, but it's become a true friendship over the past two years.
Inside, Robby asks me, "When did you get the membership card?" and I remind him of me going inside the club when he was talking with a couple of his teammates last weekend. He goes, "Good move, babe," and he gives me a pat on my shoulder. It makes me feel good he's finally paying some attention to me tonight. Frankie says, "That was so cool, Dylan. I feel like we're VIPs walking in like we did." What the hell, maybe I've been trying too hard to find negative things about the girls. They've actually been consistently very nice to me. If I'm honest about it, I'm probably jealous of the attention Rob gives the girls; especially Frankie. Yeah, there could be some truth to that and, if so, it's dumb on my part. I mean, Frankie is frankly no competition at all where Rob's concerned. It's an absurd concern when I get right down to it. The fact is, it was me who said to Robby that we'd be more socially rounded having some girls as friends. Yeah, but for me it obviously will take some getting used to, while Robby, on the other hand, isn't having a problem with that at all. None that I can detect anyway.
There's maybe thirty guys and girls inside the club, so now the club doesn't seem as big to me as it did with just Tracy and me in here. There's room for maybe another twenty-five people but that would be a very crowded situation. We get a table for four and a quick glance around tells me there's no wait-staff tonight, so I mumble, "What do you guys want to drink? I'll get a round for us at the bar." The girls say beer is fine with them, and Robby just shrugs like beer is fine with him too, so I go to the bar and buy a pitcher of Bud light and ask for four plastic cups. They're plastic, but heavy plastic with "Tracy's Speakeasy" imprinted in green script on the side. Cool.
The conversation during the first pitcher of beer is about the professors we had during freshman and sophomore years. During the second pitcher of beer, which Robby buys, we somehow get into a description of how Robby and I became boyfriends and what age we were when we knew we were gay. The girls seem fascinated by our story even though most of what we tell them is greatly edited from the truth. I mean, who are they to delve into our lives.
Robby and I exchanged a number of 'looks' as we edit our true story until it's almost unrecognizable. It's the first time tonight I've felt Robby and I were a team. I don't mean us against them... or do I? Instead of team, I should have said 'felt like we were a couple', and when you get right down to it we're the only real couple at this table. I buy the third pitcher of beer, and it's consumed while the girls talk about the boyfriends they've had over the years with Beth's confession that none of her boyfriends were nearly as good looking as Rob or me. That's one thing I need to admit: the girls are full of compliments... seemingly honest and sincere ones. I like compliments, who doesn't, but for me the compliments I get from Robby and Chubby are the only ones I pay much attention to. I've had many people comment on my appearance, not that I have much to do with how I look, so I'm not blown away with the girls compliments. Robby appears to be more taken with compliments the girls pass out to him though. Heh heh, I know he likes the idea of having a fan club even though he'd bite his own tongue off before admitting it.
There is no forth pitcher of beer although the girls bitch a little about that. They have no classes on Friday so, ya know, they want to make a late night of it. I suggested after the second pitcher of beer we should probably be going, but got overruled by the girls. Then Robby finally puts his foot down about leaving after the third pitcher, and he's adamant about it.
What he says carries a lot more weight with the girls than what I say. That's fair enough though since they didn't put much weight in me being a tad negative or grumpy earlier tonight. As we're making the short ride back to their dorm I kind of worry that the girls will feel a goodnight kiss is in order. I definitely don't believe there's any reason for that. If they insist it'll just make it seem like maybe they actually believe this really was a date, when it wasn't. It was four college students having dinner and a few beers together.
Well, I worried for nothing because at the dorm we all get out and there's no awkwardness at all. Frankie merely says, "You guys are so fucking cool.
Thanks for having dinner with us and I hope you'll invite us for dinner at your place again sometime." Gee, I like the vagueness of that word 'sometime'. Beth goes, "Dylan, I honestly liked your dinner better than the one I had at Bertucci's tonight." I go, "Oh, thanks, Beth. We'll do it again sometime. Heh heh." Then I feel the 'heh heh' was mean spirited, and I put too much emphasis on the word 'sometime', so I mumble, "Sometime next week I mean. How would that be?" Robby looks at me opening his eyes real wide as Frankie says, "That's awesome, Dylan. Thanks." She gives me a sisterly hug, then the same for Robby, as Beth merely pats my shoulder smiling at me.
Well, okay then.
We say goodnight and get back in the pickup, but Robby doesn't drive away immediately. He stares at me with a 'look' on his face, so I go, "What? Oh,
you mean my oops? I'm sorry about inviting the girls for dinner next week,
but I felt uncomfortable, and... um.." He says, "Well it took me by surprise, babe, especially considering you swore off inviting people for dinner just last night. It's okay though. Hell, I would have invited them myself except I thought you'd be pissed-off if I did." He pulls away from the curb, mumbling, "That's basically why I gave you that weird look." I shrug, "They're alright and, dude, they sure like you." He looks at me grinning, then says, "You're not worried Frankie will win my heart, are you?" I make a 'Pfsss' sound, then say, "What? You mean worried about Frankie stealing you from me? Not hardly." He grins again, then says, "Haven't you ever wondered though, you know, what it feels like having sex with a girl?" Someone else asked me that not too long ago and I told him what I tell Rob, "Not in the least. I've no interest in finding that out. Um, not that there's anything wrong with guys who do." Robby goes, "It's not a matter of wanting to try it so much as it's a matter of curiosity." For some reason Robby saying that pisses me off, and I'm not sure why. Maybe because I'd like it better if he felt the same way I do about sex with a girl and to hell with curiosity.
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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