DYLAN CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Robby and Willie were close together, discussing something that I couldn't overhear because of Dodger shouting in my ear. Then, Robby laughed, and Willie patted his shoulder. Dodger is saying, "They're seeing a different movie," and I wave at Willie as he walks off with the snooty boy. Ignoring Dodger, I asked Robby, "What did Willie say that made you laugh?" Robby looks confused, "Did I laugh?" and Chubby returns with two big tubs of popcorn, saying, "Let's go," and we walk into the theatre.
In our seats, Chubby says, "Your friend said something about going to a ballgame, but the Red Sox are in Toronto." I mumble, "He means the Pawtucket Red Sox, a minor league team."
Hmm, Willie told me last night we were going to Boston on our date. It's hard keeping up with him. Anyway, Chubby's met Willie now, and he had nothing especially good or bad to say about him. Chubby assumes Willie is just a regular guy. Um, Willie is not just a regular guy, though. In addition to being rich, he's a private prep school kid who has been all over the world and is sophisticated in some ways. I mean, compared to us, he is.
The movie was disappointingly drab, but it was fun being with these three guys, and it was a treat to have a ride to and from the movies instead of walking or taking the bus. Plus, I'm sleeping with Chubby tonight! HA!
When Robby dropped us off, Chubby went to his condo, and I went to mine. I wanted to shower. Afterward, I took clothes and a toothbrush to Chubby's bedroom and put them on a chair. I was wearing only my boxer shorts, and Chubby was already in bed. He said, "You've been lifting weights behind my back. Holy shit, those guns, you look dangerous."
That's a joke because I'm slim, but have good biceps. I do some pushups, but I think it's mostly an inherited gene thing. I inherited muscle definition from my unknown, loving Daddy. It's not his fault he's unknown. Mom never told him she was pregnant.
Anyway, I said to Chubby, "Yeah, lifting my dick a few times a day is my only weight-lifting program," and Chub goes, "Ah ha! That'll do it." I climbed into bed with him, trying not to giggle with glee. As soon as I lifted the covers, I inhaled Chubby's scent. A warm, erotic smell floated past me. His natural scent is different than Willie's and the Dickers' brothers, but they all smell sexy to me. Chubby's my favorite everything. He said, "Come on over, Dylan, we'll sleep together like a couple of homos. We're not homos, but we like to sleep like we are. It's just our thang!
As I slid over, he went on, saying, "You know, many best friends have their little personal private best things that just them do together. Everybody fucking knows that." When he finished his speech, I was just about on top of him, with my arms wrapped around him and my face against his. I go, "Like this, Chubby?" and he goes, "You're such a dick sometimes. Don't fucking overdo it; we're not a couple of homos." I squeezed him tighter, and he settled in without further comment. His newly buzzed head was against my cheek, and just like Dodger, even with hair this short, it was still velvety.
Chubby casually put his arm over my side and fell asleep in about two minutes. I'm glad he did, too, because if he hadn't, he'd have noticed my boner was stretching out there tonight, right out through the pee slit in my boxer shorts. When I heard his deep, even breathing, I rubbed my nose back and forth on the top of his head, and a drop of precum wet the head of my dick. Not daring to caress his smallish hot body, I pretended to adjust my position as if I were thrashing around while sleeping, getting even more contact with Chubby. I fell asleep chuckling about what a horny guy I've become. It's fun!
When I woke, Chubby was on his stomach, still sleeping, my arm under him, dead to the world. It took me a couple of minutes of massaging it before I got circulation back, but I didn't mind. Carefully getting out of bed, I did my toilet business: took a piss, washed my face and hands, brushed my teeth, and dressed. Chubby turned over and said, "Give me one of our world-famous hugs for my good morning hello, Dylan." When I hugged him, I felt him sneak a kiss on the side of my head. He said, "That was one of the best night's sleep I've had in a while, bro. We got to do this more often."
"Anytime, Chubby... love ya, dude," and then I had to run for my bus. Chubby had a much shorter walk to his office and didn't take a bus. There's this really good-looking black kid who rides the bus every day with me. He has that island lilt to his voice. Jamaican maybe. Today, he chuckled at my boner in a good-natured way as I walked past him. We'd gotten into the habit of touching fists and making a comment to each other as I got off the bus every day. Today, he laughed and said, "That's your best one yet, mon," nodding down at the tent in my shorts.
He wore a white hospital uniform shirt with a name tag on his left pocket, Reggie. I smiled at him because, damn, he's hot! Something about him made me think he'd be someone I'd like to get to know.
At work this morning, my locker was still secure. The combination lock allowed me to open my locker without trepidation. That gave me a good feeling, but I still don't know what asshole put that crap in my locker.
I'd sure like to know, though. Two of the college guys are arguing about something. One said, "I don't know what's with you, Paul. Is it ignorance, or maybe it's just apathy with you?" Paul, sounding irritated, said, "Hey, I don't fucking know, and I don't fucking care, alright?"
The other three college guys laughed out loud, and Paul Asked, "What?"
Changing into my grass-cutting shorts and T-shirt and putting on the baseball cap, I hustled down to Robby's locker, "Good morning, boss," and sat on the bench before his locker. He mumbled, "Good morning," and began massaging my shoulders. There was an extra sexy feel to his touch this morning. Gee, I hate to think it'll be two weeks before I experience this again.
Then, something new! He's holding under my chin from behind, pulling my head against his stomach and he leaned over to whisper in my ear, "I just want to tell you that it was so cool last night with you and Chubby. Thanks for inviting Dodger and me for pizza and the movies." His lips moved against my ear, making me feel dizzy. I pressed my head back against him and felt his penis grow firm where it pressed against the back of my neck. I bit my lip to keep from moaning. Robby took short, raspy breaths for maybe thirty seconds and then did a big, deep inhale and exhale and let go of my forehead. Breathlessly, he said, "My turn."
Feeling aroused, I stood, and Robby sat in my place. I touched his shoulders and then looked up, hearing some yelling from the college guys, then a loud roughhousing commotion, laughing and shouting something. That distraction broke the spell between me and Robby, and nothing I did while massaging him seemed as sexy as when he did me. That's okay, though, because his message was a breakthrough. I almost wished I wasn't going on vacation next week because something was developing between us. I have had the hots for Robby since sophomore year.
Robby and I go together wonderfully, except I don't know if he's gay. His brother is, so why not Robby, too? We heard the horn signaling the start of work, so I quickly got my arm around Robby's neck and said, "Great massage today! I'm going to miss you for the next two weeks." I pulled his forehead against mine. He looked serious and said, "Me too, Dylan." We nodded, then grinned, patted one another on the shoulder, and went outside to get to work.
Nothing unusual happened during the day except at lunch. Joel caught my eye and, looking angry, nodded at the door, and, with my dick shriveling up, I followed him outside. Out of sight of the guys eating lunch, he got his arm around the back of my neck and roughly pulled my head close to his. He said in a low, gravelly, kind of scary voice, "You were so obviously staring over at me." His breath smelled like the onions from his sub sandwich. I earnestly said, "Honest to God, Joel, I wasn't staring at you. I don't want to ever piss you off."
He put his other arm around my shoulders now, and I was sort of right up against him with no place to put my hands, so I touched his waist lightly with both hands, and he tightened his arms around me, the side of my face against his. He rocked us slowly back and forth in that crotch-to-crotch position like we were slowly dancing. It was incredibly awkward for me. After maybe fifteen seconds, he said, "I'll believe you this time, but I know you want me to pay attention to you. You want my help; I can see that. Don't be shy; go ahead and ask me for help."
What? This is new, but what do I say to that? He was hugging me now. This is a hug I'm getting. There isn't any other way I can describe it. Is he trying to be nice to make up for beating me up? I don't know what to say.
And just like I was afraid he'd be, he's mad again, saying in a harsher voice, "Unless you prefer our combative relationship, ask for my help."
My brain is frozen, and I can't think. Should I ask what kind of help he's referring to? I'm very uncomfortable as his anger is heating up, so I asked, "Would you help me with, um, whatever you can?" He quietly murmured, "Yes, I will. See, first, you need to realize you need help, and you have. Relax, Newman. Can you relax?"
This is my early Carl Denton experience all over again. What am I doing that makes gay guys want to dominate me, pretending they're helping? His hand goes on the back of my head, and he pushes my face against his shoulder, knocking my baseball cap off, as he murmurs, "Show me you can relax your body," and I go as limp as possible. He coos, "Good," and with a hand on my butt cheek now, he pulls my crotch against him, and I feel his boner. It is large, of course.
"I know you have a two-week vacation, but the weekend after that, you'll spend Friday night and Saturday at my place. Maybe Saturday night, too, but we'll see how well you respond to my, um, help. Okay?" I gulped; now I have that to worry about all through my time in Wildwood. No, this isn't like Carl and me. It's like the Marine and me with Joel's terror thrown in. I'll do the same thing I did with Tom: take the easiest way out for now by agreeing, then try to figure out what to do later.
I said, "Yes, Joel, the weekend after my vacation." He incongruously says, "So, you're getting what you wished for, but have you ever heard the saying, be careful what you wish for?"
Wow, he twisted everything around to fit his fantasy. He might be dangerously, um, insane. Everybody thinks he is a swell fellow, always ready to help. I shudder to think what kind of help he has in mind for me. Joel didn't bother to hide what he was doing, hugging me real hard once and almost knocking the breath out of me, then letting me go.
Without another word or look, he walked toward the other company pick-up truck and slapped hands, smiling and talking to an older man I don't know.
That was either a boner in his pants or a can of spray paint. Jesus! Joel and the Marine should have a contest for the guy with the heaviest penis gets to bully some poor boy like me. What could be nicer than a weekend with Joe? I'll never know because I'm not doing that. All I need to do is figure out what I am going to do about it.
Other than that delightful interlude with Joel Mac Carty, the day flew by, and then I was on vacation! I wasn't home two minutes before Willie called. He was so sorry, but we weren't going to Boston on our date. He had an appointment with the Apple Store at the Mall to check out a problem with his Apple Laptop. That doesn't sound like a lot of fun, but Willie will make it fun.
After a quick shower, I got dressed in cargo shorts, a button-up-the-front short-sleeve shirt, and sandals. It's been almost a month since Carl gave me the burr summer haircut, and my hair grows fast, so I need to comb it over; it's already that long. I want to wait until Carl can give me a haircut, but if he doesn't invite Willie and me to his Maine summer house, I might get a haircut from Chubby. My dick gets hard when Carl cuts my hair, which is why I prefer to wait for him.
Putting on my necklace, I check out what's left of the hickey Willie gave me in the hammock Tuesday night. It's almost gone, so I wonder if he'll give me another one tonight. The last time, I nearly came in my pants by the time he was finished with the hickey. With one last look in the mirror, I go outside with Tic Taks in my pocket for my before-date cigarette, thinking how I'm anxious to see Willie.
I didn't have to wait long. Just as I flicked my cigarette butt backward off my leg, cursing, kicking it into the gutter, Willie pulled up with his wonderful, innocent-looking smile. Sucking on some mints, I smiled back and got in the passenger seat. After a quick look around and seeing no one, I kissed him. Willie mumbles, "That was daring, Dylan." I grin again, murmuring, "I love kissing you, Willie." He nods as if he knows I do and mutters, "Ah, can I ask you for two favors?" I said, "Sure," and he hemmed and hawed a bit, then asked if I wouldn't mind not smoking just before our date because he likes to smell me, not the cigarette smoke in my clothes, and if I would shave his pubes area again. It was getting a bit itchy down there as the hair grew out.
I said, "Yes, of course," and Willie parked. Inside, Willie needed to pee, so we went into the bathroom. He peed as I stared at his long cock. Finished, he zipped up and told me he appreciated the breath mint I just finished. He washed his hands and dried them, grinning at me. Then he put his arms around me and his tongue in my mouth, and we made out. Omigod, Willie has a fantastic make-out technique with lips and tongue in constant movement. Sometimes, it's almost frantic making out; other times, he's mesmerizingly slow. Add to that the taste of him and his smell, which got my boner up in less than a minute.
When my boner was as hard as it can get and wet at the head, Willie pulled his head away, panting and mumbling, "You are so delicious." We hugged, and our boners rubbed together as he did more of his saliva-filled kisses and licks, but slower than before. I knew I was going to cum in my pants again, so I let myself feel it all and was soon in another trance, overwhelmed but feeling excellent.
All I knew of life at that moment was pleasure. Willie squeezed my ass cheeks as our crotches humped together, and his mouth over my mouth, grunting quietly. His hand slipped past the loose waistband of my cargo shorts and then inside my jockey underpants to squeeze my bare ass cheek.
My stone cock was dripping and twitching, my nuts tight to my groin and very hard.
My eyes close as I humped my hip forward and made a weird sound as I felt the exhilaration of that first spurt of cum splatter inside my jockey shorts. It was an intense feeling of sexual pleasure, and it seemed for a moment like we were both floating just barely off the floor.
Then the second shot of cum was the primary, long squeeze of cum that seemed to last a minute but was a second. I squealed into Willie's mouth and went up on my toes. The feeling at the head of my penis when that long stream of cum passed out the gapping pee slit caused my entire body to convulse. Willie put his face next to mine, squeezed my ass cheek, and I shuddered against him, hugging around his neck as tight as I could, chills and bright dots of yellow lights in front of my eyes. I wanted to crawl into Willie's lap and have him cuddle me until the after-effects of my climax stopped shooting all around my body.
Willie could feel me relax after the cum spurts, and he let go of my ass to use both hands to rub up my back. Then, one hand around my back and the other rubbing up the back of my head, he murmured, "How was that, baby? Feel good ? I sure hope so; I love you so much I can't describe it," and he continued treating me like I'd just survived a car accident or a death in the family or something--his calming voice, and the gentle rubbing and the soothing, loving comments. The affection I felt from him was palpable and gave me such a warm sensation of love and safety. His hugs and cuddling were almost as good as his make-out. No one has ever so openly declared how wonderful I am or how much they love me, and it gets to be addictive.
God almighty, I loved being with Willie. It's more than his looks, feel, making out, and lovemaking; he loves me so much. His feelings for me raised my self-image, making me feel good about myself. I liked being in Willie's embrace, and he gave me plenty of time to calm down before quietly saying, "Jeez, wasn't that fun, Dylan? I love making you cum.
Do you want to change your pants now?"
Sometimes, he treated me like I was a little kid, sometimes like I was his girlfriend, and sometimes like I was a treasure he'd found, but always it was with loving tenderness, even when he was trying to correct me about something or thinks he's being dominant. I can't get mad at him. I don't think I've been mad at him even once since we met, but at times, I'm not sure I shouldn't be put off by something he did or said.
I was still out of breath but managed to mutter, "Willie, that was better than fun; that was freaking awesome. You're one hot boy, Willie." I dropped my cargo shorts, which had a soaked-through cum stain on the front, and then my jockey underwear, which was loaded with cum in the front panel. I stepped away from Willie and put the clothes in the dirty clothes hamper. Willie grinned and then said, "How about you hold off putting anything on till after you shave my pubes and maybe suck me off, too." It's puzzling that Willie doesn't get 'off' during our wild make outs like I do.
Almost naked, I said, "Sure, we're already in the bathroom, so let's do it." Then I unbuttoned and took off my shirt. I guess his appointment at the Apple Store was a late one. Wearing only my sandals, I pulled his shorts and boxer underwear off. Willie took a hand towel off the towel rack to put on the chilly toilet seat lid and sat with kind of a grin. When the water in the tap was warm, I wet a washcloth and soaked his pubic stubble, applied shaving cream, and carefully shaved his crotch. Willie wasn't a hairy boy, and there wasn't the need to shave his balls. All done, I rinsed him off and then dried him, and his groin was shiny.
Feeling around the area, it was all smooth. He murmured, "Thank you," stood up, took the washcloth I'd just used, and vigorously scrubbed his ass crack. He dried it with the hand towel he'd been sitting on and said,
"I want you to do something new tonight." He looked cute with just his shirt on, his long limp dick swaying, and his begging smile. I said, "Sure, Willie, anything you want."
He wanted me to do what the Marine had done to me; it's called rimming. So, I knew what it was, but I let Willie explain it to me, "You lick from the back of my ball to my anus, which is another name for asshole. Larry told me that that short stretch of skin feels good when rubbed or licked. So that's what I want you to do. Okay?"
I bit my lip because, when the Marine did it to me, I remembered thinking that I might do that kind of thing for Chubby but not for anyone else. It did feel fantastic having my ass rimmed, and I owed Willie for all he's done and given me, so I'll try to do it.
Wille says, "That will get me wicked hard, and then you get to suck me off after that. Okay, Dylan?" I said, "Yeah, let's try it, but it does sound gross, so I might need to stop." Willie assured me it wasn't gross. Leaning over, his elbows on a towel resting on the counter next to the sink, Willie mumbled, "You probably need to get down on your knees, Dylan." On my knees, I looked at his buttocks up close for the first time. Willie was longish from head to foot, but his ass wasn't. He had two plump half-melons for his buttocks, firm with an ashen skin tone.
I'm not sure of this, but I tentatively put my nose on his left buttocks, and it smelled like Willie. I'm crazy about the Willie smell, so, using both hands, I spread his butt cheeks, and there was his asshole. Wow, it looked small but thankfully hairless. He'd just cleaned it, so of course, it's clean. There was no shit smell at all. I licked both his buttocks, and there was no taste. The popular phrase, kiss my ass, was usually said negatively, but I kissed Willie's ass in a positive way. He snickered and muttered, "Kiss my ass."
I chuckled and kissed his buttocks again; then, in a rush, licked across his hole. Huh, same thing, no smell or taste, so I licked down at the bottom of his crack, then up and over his asshole, and up to his ass crack to his backbone. The next pass, I stretched my neck to first lick the back of his nut sac and then from his asshole to his nut sac, and then I did it repeatedly for about ten swipes until Willie moaned. "Umm, that feels awesome." Yeah, it's weird, but it felt fantastic when the Marine rimmed my ass.
I was still naked, and my cock was hard, but after three minutes of rimming, my tongue was aching. Yes, it was sexy as hell to lick your boyfriend's clean ass, and I tried continuing, as Willie said, "Dylan, can do my asshole more?" Sore tongue or not, I wanted to please, so I licked right on his asshole and got the tip of my tongue inside, but my tongue was aching at the back and underneath. I had a firmed-up penis, and Willie's was boned by now, so I muttered, "I can't do that anymore, Willie; my fucking tongue is going to tear out of my mouth." He was enthusiastic, saying, "Oh, I loved how that feels."
His boner was spectacular, sticking straight out from his shaved belly. I liked sucking his cock. I held it in my fist and sucked on just the head till he said, "Oh my God, Dylan, you're so good at this!" He was squirming already, and I took that long pole down my throat and swallowed and swallowed on it until he was pulling my short hair and puffing out breaths as he went up and down on his toes.
I kept the cock head between my lips, up against my wet sloppy tongue, and stroked his long shaft six or seven times, and his hips started humping, and I stroked some more, and he fired a lot of cum into my mouth, some down my throat. It was the need for oxygen that made me back off his boner. I was right on the edge of blowing my load, but oxygen won the battle of needs.
Willie's stroking his boner, getting drools of cum, moaning and grunting with pleasure. He finally leans back against the sink and, breathing hard, says, "That was so fabulous. What a great climax I had, Dylan. You're the best cocksucker ever, the best ever! Oh my God," and he stroked his cock fast a half dozen times.
After cleaning up and getting dressed, we drove to the Mall, where Willie had to run to make his appointment at the Apple Genius counter, or whatever they're calling it nowadays. I lagged behind, looking around because Chubby said the window-washer boys could be at the mall after their meeting. I know they're getting their ears pierced here. Oh, sure enough, down past The Apple store was a kiosk selling cheap jewelry with a sign for free ear piercing with ear stud purchase.
Oh, fuck! Rickie's pointing at me. Shit, he doesn't like me at all, and he looks alone. Where are the boys?
To be continued...
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