DYLAN'S SUMMER AFTER HIS COLLEGE JUNIOR YEAR
Chapter 18
by Donny Mumford
Taking a cold bottle of beer with me I step outside the front door of Dodger's apartment on a sunny Saturday in early June. As the door closes behind me my senses are assaulted by a cacophony of loud construction noise both from machines, carpenters hammering, and workers shouting to be heard over the din. I can't make out what it is they're yelling about although I recognize a few F-bombs and then laughter. Wandering down the sidewalk in front of the apartment building smoking my cigarette I see bustling activity everywhere. Huh, I can almost hear the construction workers' over-time pay adding-up, cha-ching! Good for them.
There's a billboard near the entrance to this recently paved road, Sterns Hill Road, and on the billboard, is an artist's rendition of what this huge development of homes, condos, and apartment buildings will look like when completed in two years. At this point though it's hard for me to envision everything I see around me being transformed into that billboard picture. It's ironic that Dickers & Son Inc. are heavily invested in a similar development more than an hour's drive away, in Westborough, Massachusetts. I guess they got outbid for this project that's basically in their backyard.
Dodger's two-floor apartment is very cool and I'm happy for him even though he'll be living in the middle of this construction zone for quite some time. It's loud out here but fortunately for Dodger inside his apartment you're barely aware of the noise. The sidewalk I'm on ends twenty-feet past the apartment building where I see stakes driven in the ground indicating there will be a road going to the right when they get around to paving it. Holy shit, the biggest bulldozer I've ever seen just rumbling past me stirring up a cloud of dirty dust. I turn by back to it until it's past me and then flick my cigarette butt in the direction of the bulldozer and then walk back and go inside the apartment where it's clean and relatively quiet.
Closing the door behind me I hear Dodger and Vinnie talking upstairs so I assume they've finished showering. Putting the empty beer bottle on the kitchen bar I grin to myself thinking back to my stranger-than-fiction sloppy orgasm during our three-way sex act a little while ago. The one called a train fuck... ha ha. Just imagine doing that with five-or-six guys. The reason for my sloppy orgasm was horniness that goofed-up my brain and that first climax didn't resemble a normal one. It basically was just an unloading of cum that had accumulated over three-and-a-half-days, and unfortunately without most of the intense sensations associated with climax. It was more than anything a feeling of relief. My second climax though, thanks to Dodger, was much closer to a normal one and therefore much appreciated.
Dodger calls from the top of the stairs, "The bathroom is all yours, Dylan." I go upstairs where he's laying out new clothes on his bed. The now empty plastic shopping bags are scattered here and there. He's shirtless and the bandage is off his tattoo revealing a small tattoo simply spelling out 'JACKPOT' with the casino's logo under it. He's taking the labels off his new clothes while Vinnie's watching, wearing only boxer shorts on his stocky body. There's a price-tag sticker he missed on one leg so I point it out to him and he pulls it off, mumbling, "Fucking tight underwear. Dodger's waist is 30 and I take a 32." I mutter, "Huh, I have a 30-inch waist too." Dodger mutters, "We're almost twins." He's wearing brand new tan cargo shorts with a few wrinkles from being under a pile of the same shorts in the store. I say, "I run new clothes through the washing machine before wearing them." Dodger smiles, "Well ain't you the clever clothes-horse though. Actually, I usually do the same thing myself, but I need something to wear today, so..." I shrug, "Just saying..."
He pulls some pins out of a shirt and then points to sweatpants and a sweatshirt on the floor, "They're the clothes I borrowed from you earlier this week. I'll throw them in the wash with the new clothes if it's okay with you." I shrug, "Sure, thanks." Vinnie mumbles, "Can you believe my Mom still insists on buying clothes for me even though I'm twenty friggin' years old." Dodger and I both glance at Vinnie for a second and then Dodger says to me, "Whaddaya thing of my new duds?" Vinnie's still mumbling, "She buys me some pretty good stuff though, so I don't know why I'm complaining." I go, "Yeah, Dodger, you've got some cool shit here. I'd have chosen a lot of the same things for myself." He goes, "Damn though, it's a pain in the ass getting all these labels and pins off everything." Nodding my head, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Well, I'll take a quick shower now and then I'll need to borrow some of those clothes. How do you like that?" He goes, "Be my guest, but you'll need to wear them with wrinkle-creases just like my shorts." I go, "Not necessarily."
Looking through the new clothes on the bed I pick up Nike straight-leg basketball shorts, and a T-shirt, saying, "These basketball shorts are wrinkle-proof." Dodger smirks, "You're so clever, Dylan," and Vinnie asks, "Hey, can either of you two hear the words coming out of my mouth?" Dodger turns, "Did you say something, Vinnie?" and he gives him a big bear-hug as I walk past them and then down the short hall to the steamed-up bathroom. Before going in I get the last towel from the linen closet, hoping lint doesn't stick all over me when I dry myself. Brand new towels definitely should to be washed before being used.
Awesome shower with great water pressure but I only stay in for a quick wash and then while drying myself I'm grinning at the shower curtain. It's the one Vinnie bought Dodger as a house warming gift. It has baby ducks all over it. Walking out of the steamy bathroom into the air-conditioned hall I put on the borrowed underwear and the basketball shorts as Dodger heads for the stairs with a big armful of clothes, saying, "When you're dressed we'll meet downstairs, Dylan." Nodding his head at Vinnie, he adds, "We're gonna get the washing machine doing it's thing." Vinnie has clothes in his arms too, so I'm like, "Jesus, you bought all those clothes yesterday?" Dodger goes, "Nah, Vinnie's carrying the wrinkled clothes I sent home via UPS from Fort Sam Houston. I'm washing everything whether they need it or not. Um, except my Army duds."
As they go downstairs I pull the borrowed T-shirt over my head and glance around the bedroom. Huh, I don't see the clothes I took off before my shower. Guess they're also in the wash load. Dodger left me a pair of sweat socks which I put on and then my sneakers. And oh man, this is the best I've felt since Wednesday morning!
With the washing machine in Dodger's basement loaded and running, I drive the three of us to the Framingham Mall. Inside the mall, I tag along for Dodger's latest buying spree, everything paid for with his debit card from Bank of America. He has somewhere in the vicinity of $300,000.00 in that bank. Only he, me, and his friend, Josh, know about that. After buying things for an hour we're all carrying overloaded shopping bags filled with kitchen gadgets, pots and pans, cutlery, a dinner service for four and other assorted items for the kitchen. He's not done shopping yet, but now we need to haul all this stuff and unload it in the pickup because it's getting too heavy to carry around with us. I'm carrying plastic bags containing a Keurig machine, a toaster, and a juicer. All the new purchases fit in the smallish back seat of the pickup and then we go back to the mall to do more shopping.
Inside the mall again I decide enough-is-enough. I'm bored-stiff with shopping, so I mumble, "Guys, this has been more fun than a clown on fire, but I'm gonna take a break. I'll meet you in the Food Court when you're done." Vinnie says, "Thanks for your help, Dylan. We've got the bulk of it done, don't we, Dodger?" Dodger puts his arm across Vinnie's shoulders, saying, "I sure as shit hope so, Vinnie, but I keep thinking of other things I need," and then he looks at me, saying, "Okay, we'll meet you in the Food Court, Dylan, and Vinnie's right, thanks for your help. Without the pickup, we couldn't have done one-tenth of what we've done this afternoon. You're so cool too!" Yeah, ain't that the truth...
They go off to a Bed & Bath as I get on the escalator to the second floor where the Food Court is located. It's a typical food court with booths for all the normal suspects: D'Angelo, McDonalds, Sbarro, Orange Julius, a Chinese food booth, and so on. Needing something in my stomach I buy a slice of Sbarro cheese pizza and a Coke and then find a table that isn't near anyone. As I finish off the last bite of pizza crust someone behind me rubs my head. I look around, patting my hair, and see Sonny McCarty. I go, "Hey, Charles," and he says, "Oh sweet! You remembered my given name!" He doesn't realize how rare that is for me. I only recently found out that his actual birth-certificate name is, 'Charles', although he's been called Sonny his entire life. Why that's so, I don't know.
His motorbike friend is with him. The same one who came with Sonny for haircuts. Sonny pats his friends shoulder saying to me, "You remember my best bud, Thomas Bright, right Dylan?" I nod, saying, "Sure, how ya doing, Thomas?" I remembered him, but not his name. He nods back, muttering, "Good, I'm good." He absolutely insists on being called 'Thomas' if I remember correctly. Not that that's a big deal especially as I'm noticing more and more guys at college insist on being called by their formal first names. Of course, Chubby would be calling this kid 'Tommy' whether Thomas liked it of not 'cause that's just how Chubby rolls. It is a bit pompous of Thomas to make an issue out of it.
Sonny goes, "Stay put Dylan, we're gonna grab Big Macs and milk shakes. We'll be right back." Ha ha, they both had a big mop of hair on their heads when they came for haircuts. Sonny told me they shaved each other's head nine-months ago and haven't been to the barber since. Well not until they came to me. I just did 'regular' haircuts for Sonny's orange/red hair and Thomas' light brown hair and it was a total blast cutting all that long hair off their heads. That guy, Thomas, was a bit of a wise-ass at first but he came around when he realized I wasn't putting up with his grumpy-ass routine. He's sexually 'straight' but knows Sonny's gay and doesn't care. He was also aware that Sonny and I had sex in the half-bath and he couldn't have cared less about that either, so he's okay.
They return with their hamburgers and milk shakes sitting in chairs across the table from me. Sonny has that clear pale-creamy complexion I admire; a complexion you see on a lot of redheads. He's a cute kid with a hot-shit personality. I've liked him almost from the first time we met. That was a couple of years ago when he had to sit on my lap during a ride to one of Ray's summer league basketball games. Sonny asks, "You here alone, Dylan?" Shaking my head, I go, "No, a couple of friends are shopping for stuff. They'll be meeting me here any minute now. What are you guys doing here?" Thomas, who is another one of those guys who chews with his mouth open, doesn't have a lot to say today, so Sonny nods his head at Thomas, saying, "We came over so he could buy an Xbox game but the one he wanted was sold out already." I don't ask which game he's referring to because I'm not an avid game player. I do it only occasionally but I'm not that 'up' on the latest games. There are lots of guys, of course, who waste hour-after-hour playing those games every day.
Eating correctly with his mouth closed, Sonny swallows and says, "So, Dylan, I heard about you apologizing to Ray and asking him to please, um," and he glances at Thomas before adding, "To, um, get together and recreate past experiences, if you get my drift." I go, "That's what Ray told you, huh? Well it wasn't quite like that but you and Ray can think what you want, I don't give a shit." He says, "No reason to get bent out of shape about it, Dylan. Ray actually spoke very highly of you. Hell, I hope you two get back together for selfish reasons of my own. I'd get to see more of you if you were Ray's boyfriend again." My response to that is sucking on the straw of my empty fountain Coke getting only watery ice-dregs which makes that annoying sound of sucking on ice at the bottom of the cup through a straw. Sonny's staring at me until I go, "What?" and he goes, "That noise sucks! Anyway, are you thinking of getting back together with Ray? You apologized so he might take you back." I'd very much like to scream at the stupidity of that remark! Instead I can't help snorting out a laugh because Sonny's so naively sincere. It's beyond ludicrous that I'd be Ray's boyfriend again. I go, "No, Sonny, I'm not thinking about doing that."
Over Tomas' head I see Dodger and Vinnie coming into the food court looking for me. This is a very large area of maybe a hundred tables with many of them occupied so I raise my arm and wave. Vinnie bumps Dodger's arm and points at me. Lugging their shopping bags, they come over and before I can introduce them to Sonny and Thomas, those two guys turn their heads to see who I waved at. Sonny goes, "Holy shit, look who it is!" Dodger and Vinnie are smiling and when they get to our table they do quick one-arm hugs with Sonny and Thomas as Dodger's saying, "Thomas, whassup, dude?" and Vinnie's muttering, "Hi, Sonny." Oh shit, of course... they were all in the same year at Framingham High.
Dodger says, "Vinnie, pull that fucking table over here," as he's dragging a chair over from another table. For the next ten minutes the four of them reminisce about shit they did when in the same classes. Then Dodger asks me, "How do you know these two derelicts, Dylan?" I tell him I met them through a guy, Ray Reeves. Dodger goes, "Oh, that asshole! I had a run-in with him once. He tried bullying me 'cause I was an underclassman but he found out how unwise it is pulling that shit on me." Sonny mutters, "Ray's not an asshole," and Thomas says, "Yes, he is." Dodger ignores that and points to Thomas, telling me, "Thomas here was on the swim team with me." Thomas hasn't said much, but now he mumbles, "Dodger's a fucking fish in a swimming pool."
They talk for a bit as I wonder if Sonny knows Dodger and Vinnie are gay, and vice-versa. The four of them make promises to get together, promises they'll never keep, and then after some fists bumps we split up. Thomas and Sonny walk back into the mall as the three of us head for the escalator and then the closest exit for where we parked the pickup. After dumping the latest shopping bags on top of the other stuff in the back seat, I drive us back to Dodger's apartment where we carry everything inside and then spend a half hour trying to get kitchen gadgets, like a can-opener, out of the almost impenetrable heavy plastic wrapping. It takes some cursing and dangerous handling of knives but we finally separate everything from its plastic wrapping and then fill up the dishwasher to give everything a wash before using any of it.
Done with that we all get a beer and go outside for a smoke. Vinnie only smokes when he's with Dodger. As basically a non-smoker he never buys his own and why would he? Sitting on the small front stoop we watch the construction activity winding-down for the day as it's approaching five o'clock. I ask, "Why do ya think they work all these hours on a Saturday?" Dodger says, "Well, the building I'm in was supposed to be completed a month ago. That late snow-storm prevented them working until almost April. They're way behind schedule." I ask, "Is your building fully rented?" He nods, "Yep, and the unfinished building behind mine is rented too according to the rental agent who claims I'm lucky I got to him when I did." Vinnie's being his usual quiet self until he says, "Um, I gotta get home for dinner. Do ya think you could give me a ride, Dylan." I chuckles, "Of course I will, Vinnie! Jesus!" We walk to the pickup as Dodger says, "I'll ride along with you guys."
Vinnie's in the shotgun seat with Dodger in the middle continuing to be totally ecstatic about everything he bought today. He talks about his new stuff during the entire ride. When the pickup is idling at Vinnie's curb he reaches over to bump fists with me, "Thanks again for the ride." I go, "Sure, no problem, Vinnie." Dodger gives him a hug and Vinnie hops out and gives us a smile along with a middle finger salute. We chuckle at that and, as I drive away, Dodger asks, "So, you'll spend my first night in the apartment with me?" I say, "Sure, I'm honored, but won't Vinnie be offended?" He says, "Nah, he's staying with me tomorrow night. Tonight he's gone to the Sox game with his Dad." I ask, "Well, are you gonna cook your first dinner in the apartment tonight?" He shakes his head, "Nope, you and me are going to Ken's again tonight, which reminds me, would you mind calling for reservations? It's Saturday night so we probably need them." I go, "What the fuck, Dodger? I'm driving!" He laughs, "Oh yeah. I was daydreaming about my apartment again. Dude, I love it!"
He gets his cellphone out and makes dinner reservations for eight o'clock and as I pull up to the partially dirt-covered parking lot in front of his apartment building, he goes, "How 'bout coming in for a quickie." I give him a startled 'look' and he goes, "C'mon, when I get excited like I am about the apartment I get horny." I go, "Alright, sure. A quickie is something I'm usually up for." Damn right I am, especially after this week. And that half-ass three-way didn't nearly make up for the long abstinence period I've endured. As we walk up to his apartment, he mumbles, "Um, if you don't mind I'm gonna do it like we did it at your place." I shrug, "I don't especially mind, Dodger, but what's the big attraction to fucking that way?" He shrugs, "I like it, that's all. I mean as long as you're willing." I'm like, "No problem, but afterwards would you come with me to visit your brother?" He shrugs, "Of course, but we probably should change clothes first since we're eating out later."
Inside the apartment, Dodger asks, "You want a beer?" I mumble, "Nah, I'll get a drink before dinner and, seriously, let's split the bill for tonight's dinner." He goes, "No, I'm treating you as my thank-you for all the help you've given me this week. Plus, what the fuck, dude, I'm flush with cash." I feel funny about him buying me dinner again but making a federal case out of it would be pointless when dealing with Dodger about anything. We go down to the basement and transfer the washed clothes to the dryer and then put the rest of his clothes in the washing machine and get both machines running.
On the way up two flights of stairs to his bedroom, I say, "I'll text Rob before we go over there. We don't want to walk in on your family in the middle of dinner." As Dodger rips the plastic wrapping off a set of Queen Size sheets, I text Rob and he text back that they'll be done dinner by six-thirty at the latest. He's really surprise Dodger's coming too, but glad he is. I tell Dodger and he goes, "Good, we'll go over before seven. Let's make up the bed now."
We do that with me biting my tongue so I don't mention that new sheets should definitely be run through the wash before using them. We get pillow cases on the two pillows and then Dodger breaks out a dark blue comforter which he folds at the bottom of the bed and then pats my back, muttering, "Let's get undressed now." That takes fifteen-seconds and then he says, "Go ahead, Dylan, you know what to do." I nod and drop to my knees to suck a boner on my dominant 'top's' pecker. Goddamn, I love this shit! And, 'two' is the preferred number for having sex if you ask me. More than two is okay but I prefer one-on-one with me on the bottom.
Dodger runs his fingers through my hair as I slurp on his dick, my hands resting lightly on his firm ass cheeks. I'm a little bummed that Dodger's scent is mostly hidden by the smell of bath gel from the recent shower he had with Vinnie. Speaking of Vinnie, I'm liking the way Dodger shows his affection for him and the way Vinnie absorbs it thoroughly. That's nice.
When his cock is firm enough I take the head in my throat and work my throat muscles making Dodger groan and shuffle his feet. His hands are now just resting on my head as he concentrates on the sensations coming off his sensitive hard penis. It's a very hard cock by now and when I move off it a bit the head comes plopping out of my throat to rest on my warm, saliva saturated tongue. The slurping mouth-sounds on the hard flesh of his cock makes me grin around that hard fat penis even as my own cock gets very hard and begins throbbing. When pre-cum drools out of his cock Dodger steps back and takes a gasping deep breath and then says, "Awesome, Dylan, really awesome! Go ahead now, get up on the bed."
He pulls down the sheet as I get on the bed, on all fours with my face on the brand-new pillow, my forearms next to it with my ass pushed up. Dodger spanks my ass hard, "SMACK!SMACK! SMACK!" and when he gets on the bed behind me I hear his noisy-aroused-breathing. A second later the head of his pre-cum-wet cock is poking my asshole. I shiver with anticipation and then the head forces it's way inside my rectum followed immediately by two hard thrusts as a blizzard of pain covers my brain. I groan into the pillow and then hold my breath. Another grunt from Dodger as he does a final hump and now he's tightly against my buttocks leaning over to rub my back and sides with both hands. The pain hovers around at maximum level for a few seconds and then begins backing off as my miracle rectum adjusts to what's becoming a familiar entry.
Maybe Dodger thinks repeating this way of fucking is establishing in my conscious and subconscious minds he'll always be dominant during any sex we have, meaning I'll automatically suck his dick and then get on the bed like this for a spanking and then wait for him to do the fucking. I'm thinking he's laying the ground work for what he hopes will become a very long-term relationship and, if it weren't for his brother I'd be a willing participant contentedly embracing his plan. Rob is very much in the picture however so pretty soon I'll need to set the record straight with Dodger, but for the short term this is an awesome mild form of sub/dom sex that I like a lot!
Dodger murmurs, "Everything feeling better now, Dylan?" I nod, "Uh huh, getting better by the second. Feeling pretty fuckin' good actually." He smacks the side of my ass and begins what he calls a monkey-fuck. It's steady, fast, hard thrusting, "SLAPSLAPSLAP," as I'm going, "Ah! Ah! Ah!" with every delicious hard thrust of his boner up my ass, "Ah, ah, ah! aah!" for two, then three, then four-minutes of exquisite sexual pleasure and then, "Oooh! Eeeiiiiii!" cum pumps out of my rock-hard throbbing cock, a nice streaking shot of cum followed by two smaller versions as Dodger's humping against my buttocks with his cum stream hitting off the walls of my bowels, both of us gasping for air. Feeling temporarily weak my ass drops and Dodger pulls his slimy cock out and smacks my ass again, "SMACK!". He's sitting back on his ankles breathing hard and then chuckling, he goes, "Wow, that was really good! Oh man, I love doing that with you!"
I'm quietly moaning, feeling contended. Dodger smacks my ass again and I mean hard, saying, "Get your ass back up where it belongs." He hesitates and adds, "Please." I do that feeling a submissiveness skitter past my brain and then I feel Dodger's still hard cock slide tightly back up my ass and, gripping my hips, it's a wild, "Slapslapslap," ride with me moaning and beginning to feel seriously dominated and it's sooooo good it's creating a sweet little submissive trance that goes along for the ride. I'm still going, "Ah, ah, ah, ah," with each hard thrust rocking my whole body to and fro.
This awesomeness goes on for quite a while before I feel another climax beginning to build and I want it so badly I'm humping back into his thrusting until, "Eeeiiii!" and a short streak of cum shoots out with vibrations sizzling from back to front, and then front to back as I quiver with sexual pleasure. Then everything begins fading and I realize Dodger's lying on the bed next to me breathing deeply again. I didn't even notice when he pulled out. It feels like he's still fucking my ass back there as my rectum continues throbbing and then it settles down and with a last quiet moan I stretch my legs back to lie flat on the bed with my heart pounding and my shoulders doing another little shudder. My cum, that I'm lying on, starts cooling off and feeling sticky. We both lie here for maybe five minutes and then with a big exhale Dodger sits up, pats my ass, and says, "Let's clean up and get dressed for our visit with my brother and then dinner at Ken's."
Nodding my head and grinning at him, I'm like, "Yes, boss," and he grins back at me, murmuring, "This is awesome, Dylan. You good?" Nodding my head I mumble, "Well yeah, that felt great, Dodger! I'm good." I'm also back to normal orgasms and, oh gawd, the vibrating around my groin and the sizzling coming off my prostate was fabulous! I almost ask for thirds but slide off the bed onto my feet instead. Wiping my cum off my chest near my throat. Dodger comes around to where I'm standing to give my shoulders a hug, saying, "Dude, you've got cum on your chin too." He chuckles as I wipe it off with the back of my hand while leaning against Dodger a little to steady myself. Slightly dizzy from the intensity of those two climaxes I point at the sheet and mumble, "It's on the sheets too." He goes, "It'll dry. C'mon in the bathroom and I'll clean that drooling cum off your ass." We go in the bathroom and wash-up and while I'm drying my hands Dodger hugs me tightly with both arms, murmuring, "Thanks, Dylan. You're so awesome I can't even put it into words," and he kisses the side of my face. It's a big smooch followed by another hug and then, "Let's get our clothes on and have a beer." Gee, that was a slightly tender moment for a couple of seconds there.
I don't feel like a beer but I have one with Dodger anyway. As we drink it, he goes, "So, we'll go to your place so you can put on appropriate clothes." I say, "Yeah, you're dressed okay in shorts but I've got these flimsy basketball shorts on. I'll change into khakis and an other shirt." He pats my arm and then rubs it, grinning and asking, "How'd you like our latest monkey-fuck?" I smirk, "It was okay," and he messes my hair, and hugs around my head, saying, "Yeah, yeah just okay. Riiiiiight." Gee, I felt an extra closeness there with Dodger again and I stare at him for a minute. It's distracting how much he looks like Robby, although obviously they have very different personalities.
Dodger swallows some beer and says, "You know what we're gonna do tonight?" I shake my head and he says, "Tie a load on, that's what! A Saturday night load. After dinner we'll hit a bar close to my place so it's a short drive to the apartment." I nod my head, "Yeah, okay." Then I grin, muttering, "Guess what? My ass is sore," and he reaches over to pats it lightly, saying, "Yeah? It'll be fine after a couple of more fucks before bedtime. I'll toughen it up for you." My dick buzzes a little as I mutter, "Ya think?" It's so different being with him compared to being with Robby, who I love. Dodger's so sure of himself, but considerate too. It's all seems to come very naturally to him.
He talks about how much fun we'd have in Las Vegas together. "You know, Dylan, we could have a great time if they're dumb enough to comp me a suite again, and comp plane tickets too. That's what they said they're gonna do. Would you come with me?" I go, "Jesus, Dodger, I'm working this summer and then it's right back to college." He shrugs, "I mean during some college holiday for three or four days. I'd love to show you around tinsel town. It's a beast of a city. We could see a show; they'll comp me for that too." I go, "Yeah sure, during a holiday some time; that sounds cool." Why say 'no' now when it might not ever happen that the casino does all the 'comping' Dodger's talking about. Then he asks me if I have any suggestions about a small business he could start with the money he has. I can't think of one but tell him I'll Google for some ideas.
Done our beers Dodger checks the dryer and yells from the basement, "The dyer's finished. Help me fold these things." I go down and we fold the clothes with Dodger grinning at me every two seconds. I go, "What the fuck's all that grinning about?" He shrugs, "Oh, I'm realizing again just how much fun it is doing things with you. I thought about us a lot during my time in the Army. Connor and I think you're our idol." I make a face, muttering, "Get real! I'm nobody's idol." He ignores that and, holding up a pair of jeans, he's like, "Oh good! I'll wear these tonight," and he smooths out a few wrinkles and changes into them, mumbling, "Nice and warm."
After folding the clothes and putting the second load of washed clothes in the dryer we get it running and then carry the clean clothes up to his bedroom. Looking at my watch, I say, "It'll need to be a short visit with Rob if we expect to make it to Ken's by eight." He says, "We'll be fine," and as we drive to my house I remember that I want to feel-out Dodger about his version of the disconnect between him and his family. Sure, Rob says they're all okay, but being 'okay' is a far cry from family love. When I think about it though, it's not unheard of that one or more members of a family don't get along. Also I'm curious what Dodger's plans were before he hit that jackpot. He had to have had a plan because nobody goes to Vegas expecting to win a million-dollar jackpot. Hmmm, I wonder how forthcoming he'll be, or if he'll be forthcoming at all.
Well, why wait? On the way to my place so I can change clothes we stop at a traffic light and here goes nothing; "Dodger, I'm curious what you would have done if you didn't win all that money in Vegas?" He goes, "Oh Jesus! Yeah, it would have been much different, that's for sure. I did win the money though so I'd prefer that my original plans never become known. What I was gonna do would have caused, um, consternation aplenty." I pull out to the passing lane to pass an old bald-headed man in an ancient Volkswagen Beatle. I mutter, "That sounds ominous." We drive along and I finally say, "Well, are you gonna tell me?" Dodger goes, "Look, if I tell you, you gotta promise to keep it between us?" I go, "Absolutely," and he says, "I'm trusting you, okay?" I go, "I can keep a secret. I'm already keeping the other secret of yours." He goes, "Yeah well, okay. Um, I'd saved almost ten-thousand-dollars during my two-years in the Army. They pay better than you might think and we, Connor and me, were splitting the cost of a cheap apartment. Plus we ate on base most of the time so actually I should have saved a lot more than I did. Connor sure did."
Dodger waits in the pickup for me to run up to the condo and put on appropriate clothes for going out to dinner and as we're coming up to Rob's house but I want to hear the rest of Dodger's original plans that were made redundant when he hit the jackpot so I drive around the block as Dodger says, "Bottom-line, ten-thousand wouldn't set me up at all, so the plan was Josh Price and I were going to share an apartment, but not here though. From Vegas we were going to California where his family lives. He's from a rich family, or fairly rich. His father owns a big-ass construction company and he had jobs for both of us working construction and making really good money too. That's what I thought I was going to do even though it would have alienated my family even more. And it would have taken me a couple of years living cheap before I had enough money saved to venture back home... on my own terms."
That's shocking! I go, "Jesus, and no one at home knew you were moving to California?" He shrugs, "Nope, but obviously I was going to have to tell them eventually. I kept putting-off telling them though, and pushing back the time I'd be coming home. Then the miracle jackpot happened. Better to be lucky than smart, huh?" I ask, "Is this thing with Josh, um, love?" He chuckles, "Nah, not even close but he's a hot-shit. He was super-pissed and disappointed our California plans changed. Seems like I'm always disappointing somebody. Anyway we've been texting and I'm going out there for a couple of weeks real soon." He chuckles, "He's funnier than a retard eating hot wings." I frown at him and he chuckles again, saying, "Yeah, that's the kind of bizarre shit he says all the time." I mutter, "Josh isn't deeply committed to the politically-correct movement, huh?" Dodger laughs, "No, he's not even aware of it, that's more the situation. He'd ask every day when I was going to tell the my 'rents I wasn't coming home and I'd put it off another day, and he'd say something like, 'Yeah, Dodge, that news is gonna go over like a pregnant pole vaulter.' He'd say corn-pone stuff like that all the time. Another one of his favorites is: 'That dude is nuttier than a port-a-potty at a peanut festival." Dodger laughs, and mutters, "Yeah, that's Josh."
Parking outside Rob's place I'm not at all sure I ever wanna meet this Josh character. Guess I don't appreciate hick-humor. Side-stepping that, I say, "Jeez, look at the time. We can only visit for a half-hour." As we're walking up the driveway to the back door, I'm asking, "Well, even though you won the money, um, you could have still gone with this Josh guy to California, so why didn't you?" He says, "For one thing I'd rather not work construction, but mostly I wanted to live around here because of you." I look at him and he shrugs, grinning, and saying, "You and me, bud." I mutter a sarcastic, "Yeah, right," and then, "Do we need to knock on the door since this is still sort of your house." He grins, "Ya better knock to be safe." Fuckin' Dodger, ya just never know.
My knock is answered by Mr. Dickers, who says, "Hi, Dylan, nice of you..." and then he sees Dodger, and goes, "What the hell are you knocking on the door for, Dodger?" Dodger goes, "I didn't want to presume anything," and his Dad says "C'mon in, Dylan," and when I walk past him he puts his arm across Dodger's shoulders and says, "Well, feel free to presume you can walk into this house without knocking for the rest of your life, Son." Closing the door behind him, Dodger goes, "Thanks. Um, aren't you supposed to be at your Westborough office this weekend." Mr. D. says, "Yeah, that was the plan but some idiot backed a truck into one of the workers and put him in the hospital. Then another idiot contacted OSHA's workers' rights web page, and now they've got a guy from OSHA nosing around. I'll go up there when things get back to normal. Art Sinclair can handle the OSHA guy." Dodger asks, "Is that trouble for you?" His dad goes, "Not really, just a nuisance. Um, Rob's in the basement." As we're going downstairs to the cellar, I ask, "What's OSHA?" Dodger shrugs, "No idea. I was just making conversation."
Rob's bouncing a ping pong ball on a paddle looking bored. He sees us and smiles, "Hi guys!" We both do a quick hug with him. When the brothers hug this time they kiss each other's cheek. Years ago they used to do quick-as-a-wink kisses on the lips, but kissing cheeks is almost as good and it's an encouraging step in the right direction. Rob goes, "I'm about to go out of my fucking mind hanging around the house these last eight days." I'm like, "Um, by Monday it'll be ten days since the operation, so what are the chances you'll be able to go back to work then?" He goes, "I was talking about that with Dad ten minutes ago. If you'll drive me, Dylan, and Monday is as good a day as any to see how I do at work." I go, "Sure, I'll drive you. So, um, can I use the pickup all week? Ya know, so Chubby can use the Jeep." He nods, "Done deal, babe."
Dodger asks, "What the hell are you doing down here anyway, Rob?" He shrugs, "Different scenery, that's the only reason." Dodger grins, "You wouldn't be gawking at your trophy's in the trophy case by any chance." Rob snorts out a laugh and goes, "Our trophies, bro. I might have glanced at them once or twice, yeah." The so-called trophy case is two shelves on the back wall of the basement. Rob's baseball and Dodger's swimming and diving trophies are proudly displayed, if a bit dusty. All those trophies won by the Dickers brothers at Delaney Middle School and Framingham High. We all walk back and pick up one of the inexpensive-looking trophies. I'm holding one of Dodger's for: 1st place, high-diving champion, Regional's at Worcester, Ma. and then the year. There are about twenty trophies and the brothers talk about a few of the ones that mean the most to them. I don't have a single trophy. No wait! I do have one from little league. It's a 'Performance' trophy that everyone on the team was given. Chub has the same one. Huh, I wonder what happened to it. It had my name on it as a 'participant', but that was it.
Both brothers all of a sudden appear a little self-conscious reliving their glory days, so Rob mumbles, "Well that was then and this is now, huh?" Dodger nods, mumbling, "Fun times, bro." We go upstairs and sit at the kitchen table drinking Cokes talking about Dodger's apartment. Rob seems happy for Dodger and has only positive things to say as Dodger and I describe all the shopping we did today. It's all a tad awkward for me although I can't exactly describe why. Anyway it's getting close to eight o'clock so Dodger explains about our dinner reservations. Rob asks me, "Can you come over tomorrow, Dylan? We'll finalize our plans for Monday." I'm like, "Well of course I can, boyfriend!" Hint, hint, to Dodger that it's Rob and I who are boyfriends. And yeah, it would have been better if Rob asked both of us if we'd come over tomorrow. We all exchange another quick hug, with me muttering, "Keep getting better, Rob. See you tomorrow." As we walk out the door Rob calls after us, "Wish I was coming with you guys." I turn back and smile, muttering, "Me too, Robby." Jeez, I feel funny.
We get in the pickup and I get the engine going and something pops into my head. It's that the twin fiancés are taking the family out for brunch at the new Hilton hotel tomorrow morning. I tell Dodger about that and add, "I need to send a quick text to Chubby. He sometimes forgets stuff like that." As I'm doing that, I ask, "Ya wanna join us tomorrow, Dodger?" He goes, "No thanks, I wouldn't be comfortable. You know, because of you and Rob, and I won't know the male adults. It's better if I pass that up, but thanks." I mutter, "I kinda know what you mean." I text Chub and get no response. It's fifty/fifty he even knows where his cellphone is so I type a reminder into my phone to follow-up with him tomorrow morning, and then say to Dodger, "So, obviously I'll need to leave tomorrow morning by ten o'clock or so." He says, "Absolutely, no problem."
Driving on Route 9 towards Ken's Steak House I'm having mixed emotions. I feel really bad that Rob hasn't been out of the house for eight days and wish I could have stayed with him a lot longer than I did tonight, but on the other hand I feel so good as far as being sexually satisfied goes. My dick is so happy and my rectum too, although it's slightly sore. I'm as sexually contended as I've been in quite some time. All this sex with Dodger reminds me of Willie and me years ago and yeah, Ryan too for limited periods of time. In both cases Willie and Ryan would ruin it by doing some overly dominant shit and we'd be on the outs for a while. Nobody recently has come close to the frequency of sex that Dodger's providing and I've been enjoying the hell out of it, and Dodger hasn't done anything but be super nice about it too. It's be interesting to know how frequently Dodger was screwing that Josh guy in Vegas, or during their normal routine in the Army. And I know it's Dodger who was doing the screwing and not Josh. Some guys are born 'tops' and I can't see Dodger in the other role now, although as a youngster it almost certainly was the older brother doing the 'topping' when they got into their incest sex.
While I'm driving and doing my musing Dodgers texting with someone, muttering, "It's my man, Josh," and then he laughs at a text as his thumbs fly over the keys of his cellphone. I never even tried using my thumbs; never got into that but then I don't send more than two or three texts most days. At Ken's the lady at the front desk apologizes, and she does it like she's used to doing it, saying it'll be a twenty-minute wait. "And I'm so sorry, fellows. You could wait in the cocktail lounge if you'd like. I'll come get you when your table's ready." Like we have a choice.
The bar is full so we sit at a small table and waitress comes right over, "Do you gentlemen have some ID?" Dodger goes, "We need ID to sit here?" She has a really nice smile, saying, "No, of course not, my bad. I assumed you were going to order alcoholic beverages." I say, "We are," and hand her my ID. Dodger looks twenty-one, much more so than myself and that's so even though I'm almost two years older than him. The nice waitress ask me, "What can I get you?" as she hands back my license. I go, "VO Manhattan straight up, please." Dodger says, "Make that two, please," and he stares at her with half-a-smile on his face. He appears so confident the waitress hesitates and then does her nice smile again, saying, "Two VO Manhattans, straight-up."
When she's at the bar, I ask, "Why'd you do that to her? She was very nice and you've got awesome fake ID." He goes, "I was just teasing her a little." I go, "You intimidated her," and Dodger goes, "Well that was not my intention, Dylan. I was just about to get my wallet out when I remembered I left it in my shorts when I changed to the jeans I'm wearing now." I go, "And you're the one who wanted to tie a load on tonight." He chuckles, "I never forget my wallet. It's being with you that has me doing something goofy like that. All I can think about is stealing glances at you." I say, "Dammit, why do you say things like that? It makes me uncomfortable." He says, "I'm sorry. Hey, after dinner we can stop at the apartment for my wallet before going to that bar that's down from the fire house." I go, "Yeah, okay."
We really need to have a heart-to-heart talk clearing the air of any misunderstanding Dodger might have about him and me. We're just doing buddy-sex like we did before he went away. So that's what I'll do, have a talk with him about that, and soon too, but not right now. I'm feeling too good presently to deal with it. I don't even feel like interrogating Dodger about his problems with his family. His dad was nice to him and said the right things tonight, but there was a lack of warmth and the same with Rob's greeting. It all looked right but was sort of cursory, sort of superficial. Later tonight at the bar maybe I will bring up the topic.
My ass is feels so good with most of the soreness gone now and I sort of wiggle my ass sitting in the chair because I'm enjoying my condition; the one of being fully sexually satisfied. Dodger grins at me, chuckling. I go, "What?" and he says, "You are the most fun to have sex with. You're beaming and it makes me feel good making you happy." I go, "How do you know my happy condition has anything to do with sex? I might just be high on life, which I usually am anyway." He goes, "Okay, that too, but you love sex and you always have. You've got the best ass ever too, and you smell good, and you're the best looking fucker I've ever seen in my life." I go, "Hey, Mr. Don-Juan-smooth-talker, I heard you complimenting the shit out of Vinnie too." Our drinks arrive and we nod at the waitress, muttering, "Thank you." The frosted straight-up glasses come with a Maraschino Cherry while the actual Manhattan mixture is in little glass containers on the side. The nice-looking waitress smiles at us as she pours from the containers filling our glasses and when the glasses are filled there's still an ounce left in the little glass container. Bonus Manhattan!
When she goes off, Dodger says, "I was complimenting Vinnie for different things than I complimented you about just now. You get the highest compliments I've ever given anybody because you're the only one who deserves them." I say, "Thank you, but like I've mentioned a few times already, you make me very uncomfortable saying shit like that." He mugs a 'face' saying, "Yep, you've told me that before, but I do it anyway. I'm like that." Grinning, I mumble, "I suppose now I'm supposed to think up some bogus compliments for you." He laughs, shaking his head, "Nah, I haven't earned any compliments... yet." Well, I should compliment his 'topping' abilities but I'd rather get off the subject of 'us' entirely.
We both take a swallow of our drinks and then Dodger says, "This Manhattan doesn't taste as bad as the last time we ordered them. I'm getting used to Manhattans I guess." I go, "I'm a bad influence on you." He shakes his head, "Not at all. Ordering beer before dinner isn't too cool. I'm glad to have a cocktail I can order now." I say, "Yep, that's one of the things I do for you young guys. I teach my young friends to drink liquor so they can get drunk quicker and experience the horrific hangovers us older and dumber guy need to deal with." He laughs, "I've had hangovers from beer that were killers too, so it's not just you older guys."
He drinks some more of his Manhattan, almost finishing it off. That's a mistake I made at first too. Being used to drinking beer I'd drink cocktails the same way, gulping them down. I didn't do it for long though and Dodger won't do it for long either. Drinking hard liquor gets you drunk quicker but it can also cause one to throw-up. Dodger looks totally relaxed and he's apparently content not saying anything, so to break his silence I ask what it was like being in the Army for two long years? He tells me about his medic experiences and some of the things he had to learn as well as the unpleasant parts of being a medic, like giving enemas. He says, "Medics are more like nurses than doctors, although in combat they at times need to be more like doctors to try saving a life until the injured soldier can be gotten on a helicopter and taken to a hospital." He talks for ten minutes straight about what he had to do in the Army and I get the distinct impression he mostly liked the experience.
So, when he takes a breath to finish off his drink, drinking the bonus Manhattan out of the little glass contain, I say, "You liked your time in the Army, didn't you?" He says, "Sort of, but mostly I made the best of my time there and feel I'm a more mature and rounded person because of it. It was a tremendous help though having your friend, Connor, with me the whole way. We both liked it okay because we helped each other have the right attitudes. Many guys concentrated only on the negatives of Army life, and there are some of those for sure. Those negative guys though, well, we stayed away from them. So yeah, it was a worthwhile experience but two years was long enough. When they made the offer to substitute the third year of active duty for two years of Reserves duty we jumped at the opportunity."
The second drinks I ordered are being served as the lady at the front desk come over, saying, "Your table is ready, fellows." The waitress says, "I'll have your drink order added to you dinner bill." I put a five-dollar-bill on the tray she's holding as her tip, saying, "Thanks, and I like your smile." She smiles, saying, "I like yours too." I finish off my first drink and we carrying our second drinks following the front desk lady to a table next to a window that overlooks the parking lot.
We order the exact same thing for dinner we had the other night and while eating we mostly talk about what Dodger and I did together before he joined the Army. Skipping dessert Dodger pays with his debit card and I drive us to his apartment so he can get his wallet. When I park at the curb, he says, "Before we hit the bar, um, do you wanna, you know?" Actually I'd just as soon wait until before bed to have sex again but I see desire in his eyes, and I'm flattered he wants to do it again with me. I'm hesitating though and he goes, "Only if you want to, Dylan. It's okay if you'd rather not do it right now. It's just that I, you know, love doing it with you." I go, "Oh, sure, thanks Dodger. You fuck good, dude!" He nods his head, smiling and squeezing my arm, saying, "Great! Just a quickie."
Inside he's grinning and saying, "I'll get my wallet first so I don't forget it again. C'mon upstairs." In his bedroom I'm feeling squirmy anticipation again as I get undressed. My dick is tightening up a little from just watching Dodger put his wallet in his jeans and then drops them around his ankles. I expected he'd want me to get naked but he only takes his jeans off, mumbling, "Oh, ha ha, you got naked, cool! Okay, let's do it. "and he pulls his shirt tails up and holds his dick out. I drop to my knees feeling early submissiveness and that makes me squirm a little. Oooh, it feels nice and this submissive sense is apparently developing on its own the more I have sex with Dodger. I suck on his cock and take it in my throat as he murmurs, "Ooooh, feels good."
My cock gets hard almost immediately and it's good knowing what's coming next and how good it's going to feel. Slurping and sucking his cock into a boner takes less than a minute and this time he holds my head between his hand, quietly saying, "Your teeth, Dylan. Cover those bottom teeth." He takes over by holding my head steady and, moving only his hips thrusting his cock back and forth in my throat as his eyes close and his head goes back with him moaning, "Oooh, mmmm, feels good." I'm gagging a little while gasping air into my lungs during the one-second his boner head is out of my throat before it gets thrust back in.
Oh man, I just know I'm going to cum and then Dodger groans and pushes his crotch against my face humping against my face until his orgasm shoots down my throat. Immediately my cum shoots up in an arc from my throbbing boner hitting Dodger's left leg. I'm trying to swallow his cum as another shot of cum shoots from my cock and then Dodger's backing up with a startled expression on his face. He backs into his bureau blinking fast and breathing deeply. I'm sitting back on my ankles pulling on my dick looking a little startled myself. Dodger's shaking his head as though he can't believe he just shot-off in my mouth, as he's murmuring, "That was not planned at all. I'm so sorry, Dylan, I didn't expect that. Couldn't stop." I mumble, "It's no big deal. I liked it although, yeah, it was fucking unexpected." He goes, "No, that was rude of me and not what I intended at all. I love fucking you, not cumming in your mouth. I'm really sorry." He comes over and gets me by my arms helping me up and then hugs around my shoulders, saying, "You don't deserve that kind of selfish behavior from me." I go, "It's fucking alright already! It happens sometimes, that's all."
After Dodger wipes my cum off his leg and then pulls his jeans up and helps me get dressed and we go downstairs to the kitchen. He says, "Let's have the last of the beers from the twelve-pack in the refrigerator, okay?" I nod, "Yeah, sure." We sit across from each other at his small kitchen table and drink our beers. Dodger is fixated on the blow job telling me the last time he did that was with a guy who'd come to the first aid station with a cut on his forehead. "It was over his eyebrow. He'd turned around as someone was lowering the tailgate on a deuce-and-a-half... and bam!" I don't ask what a deuce-and-a-half is. "Anyway, I put seven stitches closing the cut and then we were shooting the shit and he mentioned this gay bar that Conner and I went to occasionally. One thing leads to another and I put a sign on the door that I'd be back in ten-minutes and this guy sucked me off. That time I had every intention of blasting off in his mouth, but that was over a year ago and I haven't done that since... with anyone. Um, until tonight and I apologize to you again."
He tells me about that gay bar and how guys would come in wearing fatigues 'cause they weren't worried they'd get in trouble for being gay even though they were in the Army. The 'Don't ask, don't tell' rule had been overturned. I ask, "You and Connor, er, did you guys, um, do it, ah, much...?" He shrugs, "I'll let Connor tell you if he wants to, if that's okay with you. You'll see him at Merrimack this coming fall." I nod my head and then ask, "What's the story about you and your family, Dodger. You and Rob were the tightest brother combo since Chubby and me. Well hell, you two were tighter than us in one area, so what happened?" He shrugs, "There was a time when I was hot to tell you deep-dark-secrets about Rob, but like I said earlier, I'm more mature now and it'd be petty of me to bring up old negative things about him or my Mom and Dad. I will say, what you see isn't always what you get long-term." What the fuck's he talking about? Rob and I have been together four-years. How long-term does he mean?
I'm peeling the label off my bottle of beer listening, and then say, "Can you be a little more forthcoming? Generally speaking I mean." He says, "Generally speaking, without getting into specifics, Rob has a mean dangerous streak in him that his usually mild demeanor covers-up. And my parent, especially my mother, are the same as Rob, although Mom doesn't have as good a cover as Rob. She was especially mean to me about the Army thing calling me irresponsible and selfish, which to a degree I was, but dear old Mom was kinda vicious about it. And then Dad re-naming the company by adding, 'Son' instead of 'Sons' was hurtful. They made my life miserable before I left for boot camp and then they did a complete turn-around and had that send-off party for Connor and me. That was nice of them but neither has ever said they were sorry about calling me names. Names that I don't want to go into with you because it's embarrassing for me and it should be for them. Yeah, and all the time I'm keeping my gayness a secret so as not to break their hearts about have too fag sons instead of one."
He was getting hotter and hotter telling me that stuff and then he, calmly now, adds, "It doesn't sound like anything to hold a grudge about I guess. Not from what I've told you, but I'm not going to tell you the details because it's fucking embarrassing the way the three of them treated me. So when Rob told me I screwed-up his first week as supervisor I told him I didn't give fuck. They didn't give a fuck about me so why should I give a fuck about them, ya know?" I nod, "Yeah, I guess. Um, but now there's like a truce between all of you, huh?" He goes, "It's been a truce, sort of, for the past year. They called me insensitive for not visiting during my two-week leaves from the Army, but I felt hollow inside for a long time. Connor was a great help though. Oh hell, ya know how someone can praise you for something ten-times but the thing they remember the most is the one time they criticized the shit out of you. At least that's the way I usually am." I nod again, muttering, "I know what you mean."
Well this has been a major fucking downer and I didn't learn much I hadn't surmised already, so I change the subject, asking brightly, "So, money-bags, are you gonna buy a car or just stick with the motorcycle?" He brightens up, "Oh man, I'm buying a Mini convertible next week. I was looking at them last week, just for the hell of it, but now I'm sold on the idea of buying that car and maybe driving it across country to California when I visit Josh. I mentioned I was gonna visit him, didn't I?" I go, "Yeah, you did, and a Mini is a cool car alright." I'm thinking about Ryan Wilcox's Mini convertible obviously. Ryan looked so cool in that car! I ask, "You drove all the way to Peabody to look at Minis?" He shakes his head, "No, there's a Mini dealership in Boston. I took the motorcycle into Boston with Vinnie last Thursday to check them out in person."
He's back in a good mood as he gets up and opens the last two bottles of beer in the refrigerator. I look at my bottle, surprised to see I drank it all. Listening to Dodger I was unconsciously chugging it. Dodger hands me a bottle and then taps the neck of his bottle to my bottle, saying, "Here's to Mini Coopers," and we chug. He sits down and tells me that he's finally located an Army Reserve Armory in Framingham. He thought he'd need to go to one much further away in the town of Ashland. First thing Monday he's going to report in and find out the date of the first weekend meeting. He goes, "Mostly I'll just spend the day, nine-to-five, Saturday and Sunday at the Armory. You know, going home in between the Saturday and Sunday meetings. A few times a year there's overnight weekends and then of course the two-weeks in the summer... so it kinda sucks but is far better that another solid year of active duty."
We take our time with the second beer laughing about things from our past and then Dodger tells me more stories about Army life making it sound like fun. I like hearing the stories that include Connor, who Dodger claims is just as awesome as ever, except, "I don't know how to put it, but Connor's more, um, more sure of himself now. I guess that's as good way as any to describe him. Still the nicest guy I've personally ever met and I love him like a very close friend, but he too has matured in the Army." He tells me about Connor's boyfriend, who apparently is nice but not what you'd especially call good-looking, although he's not ugly or a freak or anything. That's how Dodger put it anyway.
It's coming up on eleven o'clock when Dodger says, "You wanna try it again, Dylan." He obviously want to, so I nod, "Sure, let's try it again." Too many windows in the living room so, with Dodger's hand squeezing the back of my neck lightly, he guides me upstairs making me feel a little like I'm being taken to the principal's office after being caught smoking in the boy's room again. It also gives me a twinge of a submissive sense. I've been noticing more frequent spurts of submissiveness caused by the way Dodger does thing during our buddy-sex episodes. In the bedroom he pulls my head over and kisses me on the lips, murmuring, "Just take off your pants, no need to get totally naked. We'll do the naked sex before bed tonight." I feel a little shiver zip through me and it feels good.
When both our pants and underwear are over the arm of the chair in the corner, he says, "Lay over the bed with your feet on the floor like I had you do before." Now I'm shivering constantly with anticipation remembering this is the way he spanked me before. I'm sensing a nice submissive trance now, one like I haven't felt with Dodger before. I do as he says and he pushes my shirt up my back and spanks my ass until my hand goes back to ward off more smacks. He holds my arm away with a hand on my wrist and gives my ass three more hard smacks, and then says, "Okay, that's a very nice spanked ass, hopefully to your liking." We're apparently dispensing with the cock sucking since we already did that earlier, so I scramble up on the bed and get in position. My ass really stings but I'm in a delicious submissive trance by now, the best one I've had so far with Dodger and I can't fucking wait to feel his fat boner fucking me. My shoulders shudder just thinking about what's coming. I'm really into Dodger's routine by now and I'm liking it a lot.
He gets up on the bed behind me, saying, "Get that ass up a little higher." I do that and almost whine I'm so aroused. Dodger takes his time doing his thing of rubbing his cock over my ass getting it firmed-up and then he plugs it in hard and my back arches but the pain feels good. Now that I'm expecting it, and used to it, I embrace it as part of our sex act. The hurt of entry followed by his two hard thrusts forcing his entire four-plus-inches of fat-hard cock all the way up my ass contrasts with the incredible pleasure I get from being fucked. The pain only increases the pleasure. In the meantime the pain fades faster every time we do this. I moan with anticipation as Dodger rubs my back, murmuring, "You're so special, Dylan, and you don't even realize it." The pain fades to pleasure before he's done saying that and I push my ass up even higher to try pleasing him, and to signal I'm good to go.
It's the same fast so-called monkey-fuck with more pleasure than before because I know what to expect now. Hard thrusting with grunts from Dodger sets-off my prostate into a state of delirium, pleasure growing and glowing with me doing moans of pleasure. It feels amazing as I move my face back and forth on the pillow, moaning, "Oooh, oooh, ooh, ooh, Dodger, harder, omigod, ooh!" and he thrusts harder rocking my whole body forward with every thrust. I last about as long as last time; four-to-five minutes of extreme awesomeness and then my eyes open wide as I lift my head, my body getting very stiff and I go, "Oooh, ooooh! Eeeeiiii!" and a short steam of cum shoots out feeling like a much larger orgasm. My body is quivering all over with my shoulders doing their little shuddering and another little streak of cum shoots out with me shaking my body the way a wet dog shakes. And then, "Oooh, man," as sensations settled down and begin fading and I limply lower my face onto the pillow again.
Dodger pulls out as soon as he sees me limply being jostled. He says, "I just wanted to make sure you had a good climax, Dylan. It would take me another few minutes and I don't want to hurt your insides too much." I roll over on my side still feeling wonderful, but now noticing that my buttocks is still stinging from the spanking and around my asshole it's sore. Taking a deep breath, I mutter, "Thanks, Dodger. My ass is a little sore." He lies next to me and pulls me against him like he did when we slept together at my house.
The back of my head is on his chest with his arm across my stomach as he rubs my hair up off my sweaty forehead, asking, "Who cuts your hair?" I go, "Your brother, why?" He says, "It's a nice haircut. I mean the style is cool, but it's uneven in the back and up here," and he draws his finger near the top of the left side of my head. Yeah well I noticed the unevenness on the side but haven't looked at the back. Overall I was feeling good about the haircut until now. I say, "That's okay. He gets better with each haircut and I like him doing it." He quietly says, "You love him, huh?" I go, "Uh huh. I have for quite some time." He lowers his head close to mine, quietly asking, "Do you think you could ever love me?" I say, "Don't do this, Dodger, please." He rubs the side of his chin against the side of me head, murmuring, "Okay, I won't."
We lie like this, him holding me so I'm partially on his chest, wrinkling our shirts I suppose, but it's pleasant lying on him like this. I could go to sleep but after a couple of minutes, he asks, "Would you join me for a few beers at that bar?" I say, "Okay," and he slides out from under me and we get off the bed. I say, "I really enjoyed that sex, Dodger." He's wiping his dick with Handy Wipes and then, while pulling on underpants, he asks, "Is the spanking to your liking? We could do without it as far as I'm concerned, but I know it helps you get that submissive feeling, so..." I look at him, "How'd you know about that?" He goes, "Know what?" I say, "That I like to feel submissive during sex." He shrugs and pulls on his jeans, saying, "We discussed that the first night I was at your place. Don't you remember I told you I've known it like forever. From when I was fifteen and fucking you in the pool a few times. I think it's wicked cool of you by the way. It's one of a hundred reasons you and I are good for each other, but we all love who we love whether we should or not, even though there are more suitable people to love. It's the way of the world for us humans as we're all doing the best we can."
I'm staring at him, and then say, "Oh yeah, I remember that discussion. A number of guys know about me liking the submissive role, but what I didn't know is that you're a philosopher, Dodger, love who we love whether we should or not." He grins, "I'm a lot of things. I read, ya know." Nodding my head, I mutter, "Let's get drunk and talk silly shit about our philosophies of life." He goes, "Let's do the first part and shoot some pool instead of the second part." I've got my khakis on now and I realize I'm kinda missing the feeling of having fresh cum up my ass and I almost tell him that, but then come to my senses and don't. He'd fuck me again until he shot a load up there and I am sore. It was considerate that he wanted to give me an orgasm but pulled out before his because he didn't want to hurt my ass more.
Driving in this complex at night is a bit hairy because there are zero lights and it's pitch black tonight, plus the road is partially covered in dirt from the constant movement of construction vehicles coming off dirt onto the paved road; high-beams are a priority. The bar closest to Dodger's place is in a smallish plaza off Route 30 called the Frederick Plaza. The bar is called Frank's Tavern and it's in the middle of the plaza that also has a Dunkin' Donuts, a Speedy Cleaners, a Rite Aid Drugstore, and a Domino's Pizza shop. Very convenient to his apartment complex actually. We park and go in Frank's Tavern. It's sort of narrow place with a long bar on the right and along the wall opposite the bar there are small tables for two. The aisle in between the bar and the tables leads back to a coin-operated pool table. No windows at all, but two big screen flat TV's, both showing the post game show after the Sox game that the team won 9 to 4. Hey, Vinnie saw a good ball game with his Dad.
Frank's Tavern is jumping tonight. It's crowded although there are some empty seats at the long bar. Dodger and I stand inside the front door with him saying, "When you think about it, this place is an oasis in an otherwise barren strip on Route 30 from the Mass Pike all the way to the Natick Mall. No wonder it's crowded on a Saturday night." There's no sound from the TV's but music is playing fairly loudly and the chatter is at a fairly high volume. Just the way I like it. In this environment, we can carry on a conversation without feeling self-conscious that strangers are eavesdropping. Three of the empty seats I mentioned are on the end of the bar near the door, where we're standing. I guess people don't want to feel the warm air coming in every time the door opens.
We sit at two stools at the very end of the bar and eventually a large-bellied bartender with a bigger than necessary head and lots of gray hair comes down to say, "Welcome to Frank's. You boys have ID I assume." Dodger smiles and goes, "You know what they say about the word 'assume'," and the bartender goes, "Yes, I do. And I assume you know I must check for ID." We show our licenses and ironically he merely glances at Dodger's but give mine the third degree putting in under a special light before smiling at me, saying, "You take a nice picture, son. What'll you two lads have?" We get Bud draft beers that come in twelve-ounce mugs, although not frozen mugs like at the Beef and Ale House. We drink some of the cold brew and then Dodger puts his head over near mine and whispers, "That sex tonight was awesome, don'cha think? I mean even though I screwed up at first." He's still harping on him cumming in my mouth. It's no big deal although he seems to think it was very crude of him. I go, "I didn't mind any of it and loved most of it. You're a really good buddy-sex partner." He shrugs, "Thanks, you too. It's all been quite sensational since coming home"
It made me grin when he mentioned the sex because obviously he was looking for compliments, so for a joke I squirm on the bar stool like my ass hurts getting a chuckle and a squeeze on my shoulder from Dodger. He goes, "You're not faking it. Your eyes are shiny just thinking about me screwing your cute butt." I go, "Hey you, maybe my eyes are shiny because I'm getting drunk." Dodger's stool is next to the wall and mine is at the corner of the bar with an empty stool next to me, and then there are two guys in their late twenties or early thirties sitting on the next two stools. One of the two is wearing a wedding band and he says to his friend in this big voice. "Ya know there's a medical distinction between having Balls and having Guts. This is straight from the Medical Journal that Doctors refer to." His friend says, "This is a joke, right?" The other guy says, "Just listen, okay? Guts is when you get home late after a night on the town doing some heavy drinking and you're met by your wife at the door. She was sweeping when you came in late and she gives you a dirty look holding the broom. It takes guts to say 'Are you still cleaning or are you flying off somewhere?'" The other guy laughs and the first guy goes on. "Then there's Balls. Coming home drunk smelling of perfume and booze, lipstick on your collar and you have the balls to slap your wife on the ass, saying, 'Don't fret, you're next, fatty.'" He goes, "Medically speaking of course there's no difference in the outcome, both are fatal." And they laugh. I could just barely hear the guy but I have to smile at the cornball joke. Dodger asks what the smile is for and I tell him the joke.
We get another beer and talk about the possible trip to Las Vegas which doesn't sound as far-fetched now that I'm fairly drunk. The guy down the bar has another joke. He goes, "Oh get this, Nick! I've recently discovered that one in five people on earth are Chinese. Well fuck, I have five people in my immediate family so one of us must be Chinese, right? It's obviously not me, so it's either my Mom or Dad or maybe my older brother, Colin, or maybe my younger brother Ho-Chan-Chu, but I'm pretty sure it's Colin." Lots of laughing and I chuckle along with them making the guy look over at me. I mumble, "I couldn't help overhearing. Very funny." He goes, "Ya like jokes, huh?" and he tells one I can see the punch line coming a mile off. He goes, "This guy's in the hospital seriously injured with an oxygen mask on his face. A cute nurse comes in to give him a sponge bath and he asks, 'Are my testicles back yet?' She looks embarrassed and begins sponging him, saying, "We only do above the belly-button and your legs.' He's frustrated and asks through the oxygen mask, "Yeah, but are my testicles back yet?' She rolls her eyes and lifts the sheet to push the hospital Johnny aside and lifts his balls so he can see them. The man snorts out a laugh, takes the oxygen mask off, saying, "That feels good hon, but are my tests results back yet?' We do a polite chuckle and he waves a hand at us smiling and muttering, "No sense of humor."
Dodger and I drink some more and when the comedian leaves with his friend, Nick, Dodger says to me, "Not to get too personal but has my brother given up yet on organizing your life from now to your eventual funeral?" I say, "He never did that in the first place, but I know what you mean and, yes, we've agreed there are no timetables for anything. We still might get married someday but the glow of that idea is waning. Why get married, ya know?" He nods, "Well in case you don't know, I've always had a serious, um, crush or something on you." I just give him a noncommittal 'look' and say nothing. He goes, "Okay, I'm drunk, but I know you like me." I say quietly, so no one hears but him, "I love you, Dodger, but not the way you want," and this too makes me think again of Ryan. I need to reach out to him. Dodger pats my back, saying, "I know, I know. It's okay. You've told me before. You're consistent anyway." He kinda sulks for a bit but Dodger isn't the sulking kind; not for long anyway and as he looks down the end of the bar his eyes light up. "Hey, Dylan," and he grabs my arm, "The pool tables isn't being used. C'mon." We take our beers with us and shoot pool until one o'clock in the morning drinking another four or five beers in the process before I can finally convince Dodger it's time to leave.
Driving very carefully, but not overly slow because the cops watch for that too, I drive us to Dodger's apartment safely. He's a happy drunk singing a song I don't recognize because he doesn't sing nearly as well as Rob. We're both far from falling-down-drunk, but we're far from sober too. In the bedroom we get naked and Dodger does a short drunken make-out with me for the first time since returning from the Army, and what a great body he has! I'm extremely fond of him so my dick gets hard again in a very short time. He feels it against his body as we wrestle around rubbing each other's body. Gasping he says, "Get in your position, Dylan," and he smacks my ass hard. I almost cum right then knowing exactly what's coming. Too quickly I comply and get on my knees with my face on the pillow and my forearms on either side of it. I push my ass way up as he chuckles and then gets serious and puts a hard fucking on my ass. I just love it! My climax holds off for six-or-seven-minutes this time and then we climax almost together. Small climaxes but with the same intensity as large ones. Awesome!
Breathing hard, Dodger murmurs, "Just stay like that, Dylan." He takes a minute to catch his breath and then fucks me for a long time as I'm squirming around and eventually going flat on the bed almost crying at how incredibly sexy and awesome it feels. Neither of us climaxes again but Dodger finally is exhausted so he pulls out and gets his arm around me pulling me over partially on his body again the way he did at my place. We're both a little sweaty as he holds me lightly, saying, "Pull the covers over us," and after I do that I rustle around a little getting comfortable. My last thought is, 'Oh jeez, my ass hurts for real now,' and then I fall asleep feeling Dodger's beating heart against my chest.
to be continued...
Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com donnymumford@outlook.com
======================================================
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
========================================================
Hey guys, how about making a small (or large, go for it!) tax deductible donation to nonprofit Nifty. They could use your help covering the expenses inherent in maintaining a free story site this size. Easy directions about how to do that on their 'home page'. Thanks!
http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html