DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter 51
by Donny. Mumford
Ya know, I had a premonition about that prick Mr. Trimbole. Well, no, heh heh, it was actually a fantasy, not a premonition. No, that's still not right because first I intuitively picked up on something about him, and I don't know what it was, but it made me wonder... 'Is he gay?' So, first came the intuition, then the fantasies, and then the reality and... Omigod, did I ever get more than I needed or wanted!
Sexual encounters between consenting adults aren't supposed to be a matter of who won or lost because it's not a competition... so why do I think Mr. Trimbole won? Well, he certainly didn't lose, or maybe that's only my perception. Maybe he thinks I won. I mean, he was surprised when I backed-up my cock-teasing, not that I was doing any cock teasing. The so-called cock-teasing was strictly inside Mr. Trimbole's large head. He subconsciously conjured that up in his head and used it as justification to dominantly over-spank and then over-fuck my ass to a degree very few others, if any, have matched.
He spanked my ass so hard my butt cheeks are still burning twenty minutes later. My dick is all shriveled-up as I'm driving home after being solidly put in my place like I'm an amateur at this. I was no match for Mr. Trimbole, and 'burning butt cheeks' are not even my major problem! It's my rectum I'm worried about the most. It feels like something is broke in there and my overly-stretched anus feels raw and swollen from being too roughly used. What in the hell did I do to piss him off? Certainly not a harmless smart-ass remark or two. Or is that big bastard so thin-skinned he almost spanked and fucked my ass into shreds?
At home, I'm parking the truck where Rob always parks it and then, when I turn off the engine, I just sit here thinking about getting out. It was actually painful walking from the office to the pickup and I don't expect the walk to the house will be any easier. Mostly though I need a plan for getting by Mrs. Dickers who is sure to be in the kitchen... or maybe not! What'd I hear her say on the phone yesterday? Wasn't it something about meeting someone for lunch today? Boy, that'd be great, but then where might Mr. Dickers and his sore back be? If he sees me, how would I explain walking like I've got hemorrhoids?
The other thing is, I gotta get in the shower before Rob gets home. Okay, here we go... I open the door and drop my left foot out and then slide off the seat landing on the driveway on both feet. OW! After just standing here for a few seconds, I slam the door of the pickup and tell myself... 'Self, that was the last time you are ever getting involved with a dominant big-dicked stranger! The next time you feel like getting your ass handed to you while being humiliated... think again!
Walking cautiously around the truck and then through the backyard gate, I make myself stand straight. Now, standing in a way I feel will look normal, I ignore the pain walking up a couple of steps to the backdoor and then go into what people in New England call the 'mud room'. It's just a short hall with lots of hooks to hang winter coats. Anyway, five more steps and I'm in the kitchen where, um... there's no one here. Thank you, Lord! I hear Mr. Dickers talking on the telephone in his office so I quietly walk to the stairs, hold onto the handrail and go up ow, ow, ow! It was painful, yes, but successful!
In the bathroom I get the shower running and then get undressed. With my back to the mirror over the sink, I try to see a reflection of my ass. Nope, I'm not high enough. I stand on the toilet seat facing away and looking back at the mirror to check my ass and... what the fuck? My ass looks normal! Well, that's the next best thing to it feeling normal I suppose.
Getting in the tub under the shower's strong flow of water I immediately need to say another "OW!" because the water stings as it runs over my asshole. Not for long though. Soon the water feels fine and I add additional hot water to the flow and then try making sense of my feelings. I'm royally pissed off about something and I think it's a combination of things. I'm pissed off at Mr. Trimbole for overdoing everything, and I'm pissed off at myself for thinking he overdid everything. Yeah, because that's what I thought I wanted, right? Now I know I don't want that again and, as I was thinking earlier, I can check extreme sub/dom fucking off my sexual 'to-do' list... if I had a sexual 'to-do' list, which I don't.
Yeah, but that pisses me off too! A super dominant fuck has been the number one thing I looked forward to and now it's not. My fantasy of the perfect sub/dom fuck has lost its allure in a major way, as in it doesn't have an allure to me now. Well, hell, I'm too young to have a major fantasy fade out like that. It's happened too fast, but is that a bad thing?
Hmm, where do I stand as regards side-sex? I'm still a member of a small group of three consisting of Rob, me, and our 'arrangement'. The arrangement allows me to scratch the sexual 'variety itch' occasionally. I only do it very rarely anymore because most of the variety I crave is provided by my hot side-sex buddy, Danny. And then I nail Pony a time or two each week as well. Still, the precious 'arrangement' allows for what's become rare, very rare instances when I have side-sex with someone besides Danny and Pony. That's so rare that, aside from Mr. Trimbole, I can't recall who the last rare guy was. Bottom line: the only thing that's I've lost is any desire for another experience like I had with Mr. Russ Trimbole, and what kind of name is Russ? I guess it's Russell, right? Who would name a baby Russell?
As I begin slowly soaping myself with a washcloth and bath gel, I'm starting to feel a lot better overall because of that good talk I just had with myself! It's a fifteen-minute shower but then I get tangled up in that stupid shower curtain getting out of the tub... fuck! That intrudes on my improving state of mind as I grab a towel muttering under my breath, but by the time I'm done drying myself I'm almost in a good mood. That's until I forget and dry my ass too roughly. Okay, my ass is still sore but my mind is clearing and I'm thinking more realistically. And, how many times have I acknowledged that life isn't perfect? Christ, it isn't even fair, never mind perfect. Take that shower curtain for example... shower curtains should be banned! Only sliding glass doors should be allowed on tubs with showers, and while I'm banning things let's ban showers in tubs! Congress needs to pass a law requiring separate shower stalls in all new home construction.
Totally clean and dry now, I've got another idea and start looking through the medicine chest for that bogus ointment that Robby rubbed on my ass the last time it was sore. I'm not sure the ointment or cream did any good, but Rob swears by it so it must do something. One very positive thing I remember about it is it gets absorbed into the skin quickly and is undetectable should someone happen to be looking at my bare ass today and wonder why I put pain cream on it. Ah, here it is... Biofreeze Professional Strength Pain Relieving Gel. No, that isn't what Rob used that time; it had a different name. Fuck it, I'll use this. I take the cap off and see this tube has a roll-on applicator. That's weird!
I use this Biofreeze by gently rolling the gel mostly just around my asshole and Omigod... that's cold! Well, dummy, the name of this shit should have given you a clue it might be cold. After using it, I return the container exactly where I found it and then wrap a towel around my waist and peek out the bathroom door. It's an empty hallway... perfect! I go walk quickly from the bathroom and I'm soon in the bedroom realizing the hot shower helped reduce the pain of walking and that gel is feeling good now too. I think it's actually doing something. Things are looking up...
As I'm getting dressed in my softest sweatpants and shirt, I check my wristwatch and see it's almost one o'clock. Holy shit! Robby better get his ass here in the next five minutes if he expects to make his two o'clock Saturday baseball practice. But, wow, how can it be only one o'clock with so much happening to me this morning! Jesus, I'm really looking forward to chilling out at the apartment while Rob's at practice. That sounds very inviting... reading my book lying on the sofa in our quiet apartment, ooh yeah. Huh, I wonder what Mr. Trimbole is thinking right now? That'd be interesting to know. On the other hand, fuck him...
Feeling a thousand times better than I did when I got in the truck back at the office, I'm checking myself out in the mirror and then combing the hair in front over to the side. I stop to admire my haircut. It's only been a little over a week since I got a haircut but, haha, I already wish I needed another one. Danny's my favorite barber of all time and not only is he excellent at haircutting, which Robby never was, but Danny's almost a perfect buddy-sex partner too, especially after giving me a haircut. He's sort of dominant too. No, Danny's nothing like that animal, Mr. Trimbole... Danny does it just right.
Yep, I like this crewcut and maybe it's because I'm used to seeing myself with hair this short. Seriously though, I think I look best with my hair this way and, ya know, it's more important I think I look good than what anybody else thinks. Everyone needs to first and foremost feel good about themselves and, anyway, how the fuck do we know what everybody else thinks? Yeah, well, that's the point! Ya might as well please yourself because you're never gonna please everyone else. Fuck 'em! That's Chubby's philosophy... fuck 'em! Actually, I can only partially pull that off. Yeah, I often find myself caring what complete strangers think about me and that's just plain stupid, but there it is.
I've recovered as well as can be expected after that shit storm in the cafeteria supply room, so I spend a few minutes gathering the things I know Robby always takes to baseball practice with him. After accumulating his stuff, I put it all on the little table next to the front door. Barely finished doing that, I hear Robby clumping down the hall so I open the door and he comes in smiling. He sees I put his stuff next to the door and goes, "You're awesome, Dylan! You got my shit ready to go." We do a fast kiss on the lips and then he picks his stuff up and says, "Let's go!" Hurrying behind him, I'm putting my coat on as we walk down the hall toward the stairs.
My ass still hurts when I walk but nothing like earlier so I'm able to walk almost normally, not that Rob's paying any attention to how I'm walking. Why would he? I'm like, "Everything turn out okay in Westborough?" Clunking down the steps, Rob's like, "Yep, we found what we needed and then I got a ride here from the building custodian." I frown, muttering, "The custodian?" Rob nods, "Yeah, it cost me fifty bucks but I didn't feel right asking either of the managers to give me a ride because they both live in the opposite direction. Bill, the custodian, said he'd do it for nothing but I gave him a fifty dollar bill anyway."
Gee, I can't think when I've ever had a fifty dollar bill in my pocket. That'd be cool, flipping a fifty dollar bill on a bar sometime, saying, "Take the drinks out of that and keep the change for yourself." I can't imagine ever doing that... the 'keep the change' part mostly.
Getting in the pickup, I'm like, "That was nice of the custodian to offer." Robby starts the engine, saying, "Yeah, well, I hired him a year ago and I don't think he's, um, totally legal. He's Portuguese and he told me he forgot to bring his green card to the interview. I purposely never followed up on that because I'm pretty sure he was full of shit, but he's a nice humble man, a really nice sincere hardworking guy with two kids, ya know?" I nod, "Uh huh," although I don't know.
At the ballpark Robby's all smiles as he's getting out of the pickup, saying, "I can't wait to tell Coach Davis I'm not missing any more practices." I'm playfully sarcastic, mumbling, "He'll probably be thrilled." Robby snickers and mutters, "Probably not. More likely he doesn't even remember our discussion." See Robby doesn't have an overblown opinion of himself. He's humble like the custodian guy, what's-his-name.
But, damn, it's so good seeing Robby happy again. It had to be a stressful morning for him with the unexpected need to go to the other office but now, watching him walking across the parking lot he reminds me of a little kid with his big smile, his baseball glove in his hand, his baseball cap on the back of his head, and well, when Rob's happy it makes it easier to be happy myself. I'm pretty happy right now because I'm gonna do what I've been looking forward to doing since getting my ass spanked. I'm gonna lie my smacked ass on the sofa and read my book. That's as stress-free as I can get.
That's what I do, and life is good again.
The next two weeks fly by without Rob missing a single practice and without him and I missing a single class which, by the way, I feel is overkill. The never miss a class part. Yeah, it is because every fucking college student on earth misses a class now and then. I don't press the point though because it's not a big enough deal to argue about with Rob. Pick your battles... that's what someone once said and it's good advice.
Presently we're studying almost exclusively for midterms. Midterms seem to come around quicker every semester but these are the last midterm exams I'll ever need to study for and that's true even if I live to be a hundred and ninety, which is unlikely.
We usually study with Carl in attendance and then he stays for dinner. That's four nights a week and the other three nights I suppose Carl eats in the dining hall where there's a larger selection of vegetarian dishes. It is an interesting challenge for me dealing with Carl's idiotic vegetarian diet, but I manage. I manage even better when neither Rob nor Carl want to help with the dinner, but they mean well.
From what I can tell Carl's sex life with Pat Martinez is flourishing, and look at me... I remembered Pat's name! I don't know how that works. Most names I can't remember and then certain ones I can't forget even if I'd like to. Anyway, Carl is about as effervescent as a freshman is allowed to be so I'm assuming him and Pat are getting their sex hats on regularly... and good for them!
I'm happy Carl's got that going for him because it's been determined he'll be a bench player on the baseball team this year which tends to disappoint scholarship players like Carl happens to be. Yeah, the past two weeks of baseball practice solidified Rob's spot as the team's starting shortstop and thereby eliminating any hope the freshman phenom, one Carl Snowdon, had for that spot. Carl will be used occasionally as a pinch-hitter.
Anyway, the baseball season started for real last week and there have already been games requiring long bus rides and one overnight trip. I hated sleeping alone that night, but I did even though Pony nagged to sleep over with me. No dice though because I have this rule that no one but Rob and me sleeps in our bed.
So far, as a pinch hitter, Carl is three for five which is amazing 'cause he looks too small to be a good hitter. Rob said Carl's already at least as good a hitter as he is, but it's his fielding, Carl's fielding, that needs work. Considering Carl's diminutive size, I would have thought it'd be the other way around; he'd excel at fielding but need improvement hitting. Well, the Red Sox have a few smaller guys who 'rake' which means hit the shit out of the baseball, in case ya didn't know that.
Rob's mostly happy during baseball season and is, therefore, he's even more 'up' for sex than normal, so it's been a good couple of weeks for me. It's sexy fun and uber relaxing being around Rob when everything is peaches and cream in his world. Our love-making has been hotter and more awesome than usual although it never feels routine. It's always different and I can't describe the peace of mind I have from knowing, and I mean really knowing without a doubt, that I'm with the perfect young man to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I rarely even need to think about it because it's so obvious and continuous. Um, as I said, I can't describe it so I don't know why I'm trying... I just know it's true. So that's cool...
What's also cool is my relationship with my make-believe-little-brother, Pony. He's better than ever now that he has a friend beside me and his roommate, Donald. Yeah, this Max Kellerman kid isn't gay, but he's a good match for Pony in most other ways. They started as ten-pin bowling acquaintances but found they have other mutual interest, so they hang out together a lot now. They also have two of the same classes and how they didn't realize that until now I can't imagine, but it means they have that much more to talk about. I've spoken to Max twice and I think I intimidated him, although not on purpose. Pony told me Max doesn't feel comfortable around me which is great news for me because I do not want to hang out with those two anyway. So, yeah, I see less of Pony but that's okay because when we're together it's more like, um, quality time, ya know? He's just as horny as ever since Max is no help in that regard, consequently, we've been doing our sexy activities as often as before but now I don't worry or feel as bad for Pony as I often did before this goof Max showed up with his ten-pin bowling ball. What I'm saying is, it's kind of a relief knowing Pony's got a buddy his age now. He needs some friends because I'm not gonna be here for him next year.
And then there's Danny who's on the baseball team too so I don't see much of him either. While that's true, during these last two weeks we've managed to fuck four times. Mostly, it's been Danny's who's made it his business to come up with reasons for me to tell Rob why I need to 'help' him, Danny, with something. Once it was to give him a ride to Salem to pick up a bottle of booze and Robby knows that no one in their right mind would pay almost double in North Andover for alcoholic beverages when you can take a fifteen-minute ride to Salem, New Hampshire and buy it much cheaper. Then another time Danny needed a ride to downtown North Andover to mail a package home at the post office there, and so forth. We did the errands, but of course, then we did the dirty deed too. Robby, not being someone who just fell off a turnip truck knows what's going on, but he's okay with it and chooses to not even to tease me about it.
So, that's good. The last time Danny and I fucked was at last Friday's frat party. It was an off-campus party but within walking distance from the campus. Older homes adjacent to the campus have been purchased by the college over the years and converted to either dorms or frat houses. The point is Danny's been proactive in his sexual advances toward moi and, consequently, I'm enjoying our buddy sex more frequently of late. We had sex in the frat house's attic last Friday night. It was quite late and we were drunk enough not to realize what a stupid idea it was. We only realized we weren't the only ones in the attic when we were leaving. There was no light up there except the street light shining through the one small window in that entire attic. Oh my God though, he fucked me great! We never did find out who was up there with us.
So what I'm saying is the sex scene this past couple of weeks has been better than the status quo for me, and I mean on all fronts... from both Robby and Danny and pretty much the same with Pony. I've also done more reading than normal because the few people I like hanging out with are on the baseball team. A guy who isn't on the baseball team is Tom Brooker. He's the transfer student living in an efficiency apartment right above Rob's and my apartment.
Tom had his 'time' with Danny when he first moved in although I still don't know if sex was involved. I don't believe it was but I didn't find out until later what Danny's attraction to Tom was... they're both studying for a teaching degree. Tom was only an 'item' for a couple of weeks. and as it turns out Danny was actually more interested in Tom's father than Tom. Ya see Tom's dad has connections with school boards that may benefit Danny's teaching career. By that, I mean Tom's father may get Danny a full teaching position next fall... maybe. Anyway, after the first couple of weeks, Tom's made his own friends and we haven't seen much of him except when Rob and I occasionally see him on the stairs coming or going from his apartment and he's always friendly.
Now that Tom isn't taking my time away from Danny, I don't hate Tom, anymore. In fact, during these past two weeks with baseball season occupying a lot of Rob's free time, Tom and I have become sort of chummy and we've had a few beers together. Today is the baseball team's fifth game, but it's their first game at Merrimack's ballpark... it's what's called their 'home opener'. Tom, Connor, and I are going to the game together. The previous four games were played at away ballparks that are in slightly warmer climates. It's a fairly nice day with the temperature in the fifties and partly sunny although there's a chance of rain later. There's always a chance of rain or snow in March, which isn't known for its nice weather in our area of the country.
As I've thought from the first time I saw Tom, he's almost cute, but not quite, which is a lot closer to cute than most twenty-two-year-old guys. He's about an inch taller than me and almost as slim so it's understandable I'd be concerned that Danny might take a sexual interest in him although, as I said, I don't believe he did. And even after having some beers with Tom, I still don't know if he's is straight, bi, or gay.
Connor could make friends with a junkyard dog so I had no doubt he'd make friends with Tom, and he did. The last month or so Stosh has been lightening up on Connor's leash, metaphorically speaking, and Connor has been out and about a little more because of that, almost like a regular college student. One afternoon, without making prior arrangements, I just stopped at Connor's apartment to see if he was up for having a couple of beers. Ballsy of me but as it turned out Stosh said 'hi' and went back to whatever it was he was doing and Connor joined me for a few sociable beers.
That's a big step in the right direction for their relationship. Stosh now showing some trust in Connor by letting him experience something a little closer to normal college life. At the bar that afternoon, I didn't find out any more inside information about their relationship than I normally find out when we have coffee together, but at least I got him out of the apartment for a couple of hours. Stosh and Connor's relationship isn't really any of my business but I want Connor to know I'm there for him if he ever wants to unload on me about, um, about anything that's bothering him.
Anyway, earlier today Rob took the pickup to the ballpark, so I'm riding over with Tom in his van. We picked up Connor and now we're sitting in the bleachers at the ballpark along the first base line. The opening day draws about a thousand fans which are a lot compared to what the normal game attendance is. College baseball isn't a big draw around here. No college sports is, and that's because Boston is a pro sports town... Red Sox, Patriots, Celtics, and Bruins plus a smaller following for the professional soccer team, The Revolution. That's just how it is.
We're watching the teams warming up with Tom telling Connor about Providence College. I'm mostly ogling the freshmen ballplayers who look too young to be out there. Oh fuck, haha, there's Carl grab-assing with a sweet looking Hispanic kid. I look around expecting to see Carl's boyfriend in the stands but there are too many people and I quickly lose interest in him. It's just that Pat Martinez is Hispanic of some sort too, no offense intended, and Carl's grab-assing with another Hispanic kid. I find that interesting... or is it coincidental, and why do I care? Well, actually I don't.
The problem I'm having with my ogling of these young freshmen boys is they're all wearing baseball caps and an important part of my evaluation process involves their hair and their haircuts. Bad hairlines and bad hair, not to mention bad haircuts or long hair, can eliminate them as far as my interest in them goes. And, yes, I'm very much aware that not a single one of them could give a flying shit if I'm interested in them or not. I'm entertaining myself, alright?
Sigh, I used to have so much fun boy-watching. Hell, nowadays I often forget to even take notice. A shame, really. I glance over at Connor and Tom when I hear Connor doing polite laughter. Haha, I'm guessing Tom tried one of his corny jokes on Connor. Tom has an, um, a cornball sense of humor. Here's an example: he and I were somehow talking about going to the circus when we were kids. This is when we were drinking a few beers at Rolf's last week. That would be last Thursday when Rob was at baseball practice. Anyway, I told Tom I didn't care for the circus... circuses suck as entertainment. Tom said, "Well, just so you know, if you're ever attacked by a mob of clowns, go for the juggler." He was chuckling because that's his idea of a joke. I groaned and asked him to please not tell me jokes. Yeah, it's a good thing he's almost cute or I couldn't put up with too much of that shit.
Oh goodie, there's my lover-boy, Robby. I could pick him out of a hundred ballplayers. He's always looked awesome in a baseball uniform. Rob wears the pants down to his ankles the way all ballplayers should, and Rob's had the pants altered so the legs are narrow. Very cool look and, in addition, it somehow makes him look taller. Most players aren't spending the money to do that though, and they simply don't look as cool. And I don't care for the old time 'knickers' look at all. That's when the pants stop at the knees which is the way too many ballplayers have their pants. That looks like shit if you ask me.
And then there's my other lover-boy, my buddy-lover, Danny, who looks cool too. He's talking with Rob and they both look over at the bleachers at the same time. I'd like to think they're looking for me but I'm pretty sure they're looking at the fairly large crowd. They pat each other on the ass with their baseball gloves and then Danny jogs to the outfield. That's one of the reasons I wish I had the talent to be on a team. There's lots of touching, head rubbing, and hugging going on between teammates.
Tom breaks into my light trance, asking, "Ya want a hot dog, Dylan? Connor and I are going to the refreshment stand." Reaching in my pocket for money, I go, "Yeah, thanks, A Coke and a hot dog, absolutely! We're at the ballpark so that's kinda mandatory." He pats my shoulder, saying, "My treat," and I pull my hand from my pocket, mumbling, "Thanks, dude." He owes me because he forgot his money the last time we went out for a few beers.
The game goes quickly because neither one of these teams can hit their way out of a wet paper bag and, consequently, there were only a few base runners the entire game... boring! Another way of looking at it is both pitchers were outstanding. In either case, Merrimack loses the game one to nothing and the game is over in less than two hours. It's six o'clock and still light outside this third week of March, but cloudy now too so the ballpark lights were on the last three innings. I've had my sweatshirt's hood up most of the game because fifty-some degrees isn't exactly warm.
This morning we all made plans is to have roast beef sandwiches and a few beers as our dinner at the Beef & Ale House after the game. I tell Connor and Tom to go ahead, that I'll wait to ride there with Robby and Danny. Waiting outside the ballpark smoking cigarette I start wondering why the fuck I didn't go with Tom and Connor because it looks like the weatherman got it right for once and it's gonna start raining momentarily. I'm a little irritable to start with and then some guy taps my arm. Huh?
I look at him and see this bucktoothed guy with one of those supposedly stylish short beards, his looking like shit plus he has a nose the size of Rhode Island. I go, "Yeah, can I help you with something?" and in this snotty voice, he says, "There's no smoking anywhere near the ballpark." Why the fuck does he care? I ask, "Why not?" and he says, "Read the sign," and he points to a no smoking sign on the fence near the entrance. I go, "Yeah, I saw the sign and I can read, but what I wanna know from you is why isn't smoking allowed near the ballpark?" Buckteeth looks confused and then a very tall skinny guy wearing a ski cap calls over, "Wayne, come on, man, we're leaving." Wayne points at me as I exhale smoke at him and then he turns around and walks quickly toward the beanpole guy. Why can't people mind their own fucking business?
Then Chubby comes out with John Beverly. They're with a couple of girls who I assume are their dates. That's a good guess since their holding hands and then Chub sees me and drops the girl's hand, saying, "Dylan!" I give him a big smile, saying, "Omigod, it's my brother. What the fuck are you doing here?" He laughs out loud and we hug and then Chubby kisses me like he always does. The girl he was holding hands with goes, "Ew, you kissed him!" Chubby ignores her and says, "Let me have a drag, bro." I give him my cigarette and he takes a drag and someone yells, "No smoking in this area." Can I believe this? Another do-gooder! Jesus Christ, two do-gooders within five minutes. Chubby smiles and yells, "Go fuck yourself, dip-shit!" which is another way of handling that situation. The do-gooder, a fairly nice looking guy gives us the finger and keeps walking away with his group of guys and girls.
I tell Chub I'm going to the Beef & Ale House and he asks John Beverly, "Yo, John, ya wanna have dinner at the Ale House?" John goes, "Yep," and the girl Chubby was holding hands with says, "No! We're doing what we said we were going to do. Eat at the dining hall and then go to Sharky's Bar." Chub does his big smile at her, saying, "No problem, Debby, you can do that, sure, but the rest of us are going to the fucking Ale House," and then he asks the girl John Beverly's still holding hands with, "You're coming with John and me, right, Sid?" She says, "Yeah, sure, but my name is Sara." Chubby spreads his arms like... it's all settled, and then he says to me, "See ya there, brother." I've been grinning since he showed up. I mutter, "Okay, brother," and they continue walking to the parking lot as Debby gets a little shrill with her bitching at Chubby. He smiles at her brightly. Chub doesn't give a shit...
Oh man, heh heh, I step on my cigarette butt as a light rain starts falling. Walking over to the 'Players Only' entrance I go 'Hmm, I'm probably going to get yelled at' but I open the door and step inside to lean against the wall, out of the rain. Robby should give me a key thingie for the pickup. I could drive it down here to the entrance so Rob and Danny don't get rained on. I gotta ask him about that.
While I wait, I'm adding up in my head how many weeks until graduation. Well, we graduate May 19th. Let's see, there are ten days to go in March and then all of April and almost three weeks in May. We'll be done our finals the first week of May and, holy shit, it's getting close!
Right now we're all waiting to hear about our midterm grades for the exams we took last week. After each exam last week Rob and I just smirked back and forth, not even bothering to say the obvious, meaning we aced that fucker! We nailed those motherfuckers without even breathing hard. I think I'm getting smarter just when I'm finishing my formal education, or maybe it's that I'm paying better attention in class and studying harder. Nah, I'm getting smarter! Heh heh.
Whatever, but how many more weeks is that until graduation... exactly? Well, it's nine weeks, right? Oh boy, that's fantastic and scary at the same time. It's a reality, graduation is and it's flying toward us at the speed of light... ready or not. And it's weird but no one I've talked to is worried about their midterm grades and that's so fucking different from freshmen year it's like not even comparable.
I got a little wet out there and some random rainwater is dripping off the bill of my cap. Taking off my baseball cap to shake off the water, I look at it. Wow, this fucking hat is pretty beat up! And I don't know why I'm still wearing Ryan's baseball cap. It's the one he wore for a while during sophomore year. He got it when he was the equipment manager/flunky for the team. Jesus, thinking about that almost brings a tear to my eyes. What's Ryan doing now, I wonder? He was... um, no, I don't want to go there, and anyway I hear voices from the tunnel leading from the locker rooms.
Ballplayers are coming up from the locker room tunnel laughing and breaking balls. Jesus, don't these dumb jocks know they lost the game? First, there are four guys, none of whom I recognize, bench players or relief pitchers or maybe equipment manager/flunkies. A couple of them glance over at me but only for a brief second until they realize they don't know me. Ten-feet behind them a couple of guys come out of the tunnel who I do recognize but can't remember their names. They both give me a look like, 'Why are you here?' and I mutter, "Tough loss, guys," and the big redhead points at me and says, "Yo, um, dude! You're a buddy of Rob's, right?" I nod and he mumbles. "He's on his way, him and Monday." I mutter, "Thanks." Haha, he couldn't remember my name either, so he called me 'dude'. I do that all the time... dude or buddy or simply, 'hey, you, wassup?'.
And here come Rob and Danny in the middle of ten or twelve guys coming up the tunnel jostling each other. Fucking jocks, ya know? Danny spots me and bumps Rob's arm while grinning at me. Damn, look at those two good looking guys! Oh man, am I ever lucky!
Robby grins and yells, "Hey, you're not allowed in here!" I wait until they're next to me before stepping in alongside Robby while saying to Danny, "You almost tied the score with that sacrifice fly, Danny." He goes, "Oh Christ, that asshole Mullins runs like he's carrying a piano on his back. That's why he got thrown out at the plate!" Some guy behind us yells, "Fuck you, Monday. That was a friggin' pop-up, not a sacrifice fly!" Danny laughs and turns around to walk backward for a few steps, saying, "I was fucking kidding, Mullins. Christ, learn to take a joke!" He turns around to walk normally as Mullins yells, "Learn to fucking hit, why don'cha?"
Danny looks at me nodding his head in the general direction of Mullins behind him while making the universal jerking off motion with his fist, meaning Mullins is a jerkoff. I roll my eyes noncommittally and mumble, "Ya know, Rob, if I had my own fob for the pickup I could have driven it down here and you wouldn't need to run through the parking lot in this rain." Danny goes, "Fob? What's that?" Robby takes out the key device for our new pickup truck, saying, "That's what the salesman called this electronic device. It's the keyless thingie for the pickup." Danny makes a 'face' muttering, "Fob? That's fucked."
Stepping outside into the rain, Rob goes, "Yeah, babe, but the other fob thingie is right there where we keep our keys next to the front door. Put it in your pocket." The rain is coming down pretty hard now. I go, "Okay, I will," and we run to the pickup with Rob hitting a button on the 'fob' to unlock the doors before we get there. He hops in the driver's side as Danny and I run around to the other side. Danny opens the passenger door saying, "You hop in the back, Dylan. Ballplayers up front." I'm not about to argue with rain dripping off my hat so I get in. The old pickup didn't have a backdoor so you had to pull the front seat forward and crawl in the small backseat. We've got a luxury pickup truck now. I say 'we' but it's Rob's truck, obviously. Yeah, but what's Rob's is mine, and what's mine is, well, we can discuss that. No, just kidding. Actually, I don't have anything Robby wants, except... me.
When we get there I see a lot of ballplayers and fans at the Beef & Ale House, no surprise there. Today is Thursday which means Rob and I have no classes tomorrow so we don't care if we're hung-over Friday mornings. We haven't gone home since Mr. Dickers' back problems, but we'll be going home this weekend because it's spring recess... spring break, and we have the whole week off. This is the first spring break we haven't made plans to go away although we still might go someplace. Tomorrow we'll pack the stuff we're taking home with us and then chill out. There's no baseball practice or games during the break. And, yes, like a lot of thing at college lately, this is the last spring break of our lives. We do have an Easter weekend when we'll go home on Friday, which is known as Good Friday for those religious folks. That's in late April and then it's a full-blown sprint to graduation.
To avoid unnecessary commentary from Rob's parents we both need haircuts before going home this Saturday and we definitely plan on getting them from Danny. I say 'definitely' because Rob got a haircut at a barbershop in Framingham that time he had to go home when his Dad hurt his back and the haircut he got was significantly inferior and inconvenient compared to the haircuts we get from Danny. Here's the choice we have: a Framingham barbershop haircut that's $18 plus tip, plus inconvenient, or Danny's convenient college barbershop haircuts which cost $18 less, and no tip is expected, and is a much better haircut to boot. Hmm, which barbershop should we go to? Duh!
When we get to the Beef and Ale House for something to say, I mention to Danny I'll be at his dorm barbershop before going home on Saturday and he tells me I better be there early. That's what he always tells me. I give him a 'look' because he still won't give me preferential treatment and that pisses me off. You'd think he'd offer to do my haircut Friday afternoon but, NO, he won't do that because he says lots of guys will expect it if he does it for me. The thing is, I'm not just any 'one', ya know? I'm his best buddy-sex-buddy ever!
It's crowded at the Ale House this time of night but it's crowded everywhere. There are five thousand-plus students at Merrimack plus twenty-five thousand townies and there aren't that many bars and restaurants in and around North Andover which isn't that big of a town. We see Connor and Tom have managed to save a table for us by sitting in two of the chairs and hanging their coat on the other two. There's five of us though so Danny drags an empty chair from another table. One of the girls at that table yells, "Hey, bring that chair back! We're saving that for our girlfriend!" Danny says, "Ya wanna arm wrestle me for it? Haha, hey, no problem, sweetie, I'll only use it until your fictitious girlfriend gets here." The girl mutters, "Asshole," which Danny ignores as he sits down.
The five of us sit around the table talking about the game while we're waiting for a waitress. The waitresses are too busy so after like ten minutes, Connor and I hang our coats on the back of our chairs and fight our way to the bar. There's a guy carving roast beef off a two-foot-high standing rib roast at the food station behind the bar, plus two bartenders. It takes a few minutes edging closer and closer to the bar and then we order five roast beef sandwiches and five mugs of beer. The bartender, who looks like a gruff asshole, a guy who probably wishes he were someplace else, puts in our sandwich order and begins pouring the five draft beers, asking us, "How are you planning on carrying all this back to your table?" Connor and I exchange 'Duh!' expressions and I say, "In a couple of trips I guess." The bartender shakes his head and bellows, "Yo, Riley!" and a waitress who appears to be in her thirties looks over at Fred, the bartender. He makes a circling motion with his finger at our five mugs of beer and the sandwiches that the roast beef guy is putting next to the beers. Riley, a flat-chested woman with a cute face, finishes serving drinks to a table of four and then comes over with a tray. This is an unexpected nice gesture by Fred the bartender! Ya see, as I always say, you can't go by a person's appearance. That's gonna be in my book!
Connor and I leave five bucks for the bartender as a tip because he saved our asses. We hadn't thought this through... and Fred did something about it. That's kinda rare. We carry a beer and a sandwich each while Riley carries the rest of our order on a tray, along with the check.
When Connor, Riley, and I arrive at the table, the guys are like, "Well, okay!" We all throw ten bucks on Riley's tray and I add another five bucks to be sure there's enough tip for her. She's like, "Thank you, boys! I'll keep an eye on you for refills." The bill for the five beers and sandwiches, with tax, is $45.17. It's understood by Riley, and all of us, that she gets to keep the change from the fifty-five bucks. That's a ten dollar tip every time she brings us a round of sandwiches and beers so, of course, Riley will keep an eye on our table. Perfect arrangement for her, and considering the crowd in here, perfect for us too. Spend a little extra and you get extra special treatment... sometimes.
Anyway, we all have a second sandwich and beer after which the beers keep flowing. After an hour or so we abandon the table to move around and talk to other guys. By nine thirty most of us are feeling 'good' and the beers are going down easy. I'm listening to Chubby telling a group of us a joke when I feel a tug on my arm. Looking back I see Danny who whispers to me, "Get rid of that beer mug and follow me." This likely means only one thing, so I look around and, not seeing Robby, I chug the last couple of ounces of beer and follow Danny, asking, "What's up, Danny?" He grins, muttering, "My dick," and he leads me into the kitchen...yeah, the fucking kitchen! I'm like, "What the hell, Danny?" as he's grinning and saying 'hi' to the startled cooks and then we're out the backdoor before they can think to say, 'Get the fuck out of the kitchen, assholes!'
Standing just outside the backdoor under an overhang of the roof, Danny points through the rain to an outbuilding, saying, "I spotted that shed during junior year when I was here with, well, never mind who I was with." Yeah, I see the shed about twenty yards from here. The shed is approximately ten feet square with a gable roof, meaning it's like an A-frame. The place looks fairly new but we'll need to run our asses off in the rain twenty yards or so to get to it, plus step over a three-foot chain link fence. I'm just about to say 'no way' when Danny pulls on my arm, "C' mon, Dylan," and I watch him running, his feet kicking up water and so what the fuck, I follow him my coat getting caught on the barbs at the top of the three-foot fence. I yank at it and hear it rip. Oh, that's awesome!
There's no lock on the shed's door but it's pitch black inside. There are no windows and when I click the light switch inside the door nothing happens. Danny says, in an unnecessary stage whisper, "Don't turn on the fucking lights!" I'm like, "The lights don't work, and why are you whispering?" I'm kinda excited now that we're here. I get 'off' on these extemporaneous sexual adventures. Totally unexpected by me, but my dick is already kinda tight 'cause it picks up things quicker than my brain. And somewhere in my brain I know we gotta stop doing immature shit like this, but not quite yet. Maybe when we're no longer college students. Yeah, maybe then.
It is, and I'm not exaggerating, so dark in here I can't see Danny who is literally one foot from me. I hear a clicking sound which turns out to be Danny flicking his Bic, his cigarette lighter, and in the flickery light from his lighter, I see the interior walls are unfinished, just two by fours and three quarter inch plywood. There's a big stack of fireplace logs in here too, both real logs and those artificial fire-starter logs. Everything is neatly stacked, like half a cord. That's pretty strange since there's no fireplace in the Ale House. I mumble, "I don't think this shed is connected to the Ale House, Danny. It belongs to that house I saw while running over here." He goes, "What house?" I tell him I saw a light in the window at the back of a house closer to this shed than the Ale House is. He goes, "What difference does that make?" Well, quite a bit if you ask me...
I hear dripping water and assume it's rainwater dripping off the bill of Danny's baseball cap. For some dumb reason I left my hat in the truck so there's rain running off my head and down my face. I wipe some of it off with the palm of my hand as Danny's lighter flickers out and we're in pitch black again. We're wearing our coats because when we left our table a couple of hours ago there wasn't any place to hang our coats. What else, we put them on and we've been wearing them ever since. Good thing too or we'd be soaked to the skin.
Another flick of his Bic lighter as Danny's casually rubbing my back, murmuring, "Well, Jesus Christ, where the fuck did these logs come from? They weren't here a couple of years ago." That makes me snicker because Danny sounds pissed off someone had the nerve to put logs in 'his' shed. I mutter, "This is a homeowner's shed. There are some gardening tools on that wall too, see?" He shrugs and pulls me closer to him as the light flickers out again and we're again in darkness like the blackness of deep space.
I'm allowing my mind to greatly embellish the reality of this situation. It's like, Danny's lighting the place temporarily with his cigarette lighter and rubbing my back, pulling me against him which I interpret as him reassuring me everything's okay and that he'll take care of me, haha. Hey, sometimes ya gotta add to your good times... Heh heh.
Yeah, I like the gooey-sexy feeling of my 'top' taking charge and being protective. Just my fun mind-games and to further enhance the atmosphere I lean against him and Danny's arm squeezes me as he's putting the lighter in his pocket. It is a bit eerie for real. Danny murmurs. "Fucking dark, huh?" I can get pathetically turned on by Danny even though I know I'm creating the situation in my head although I get goofy with it and a big grin breaks out on my face. I'm grinning at myself as I snuggle against Danny like maybe I'm afraid of the dark.
I think Danny's having second thoughts about this as he mumbles, "I do not recall this pitch blackness the last time I was in here. Maybe the lights worked then." I don't say anything and he mutters, "This sucks." I go, "The bulb burned out I guess." He goes, "Fuck the bulb!" He's pissed, haha!
Then, as Danny usually does, he's apparently decided to make the best of it because, with his arm still around me, he rubs the side of his face against mine and then licks across my lips twice. Not being able to see anything in this darkness it's like a ghost just licked my lips and I shudder, then snicker 'cause this is so weird... and I'm a little drunk too. Hearing my snicker, Danny snickers too and then mumbles, "Aren't you glad I thought of this, Dylan?" I nod my head, which he can't see either, of course, and then I make a gulping sound when I try to say 'Yes' because now I actually am getting aroused being here with him.
He's got both his arms around me with his face bumping mine as he whispers, "Did I ever tell you how much I love the way you smell? It's, um, like you're new." I mutter, "Um, do you mean I smell like a baby?" He goes, "NO! Nah, not like a baby, for Christ sake. What's a baby smell like, anyway?" and he laughs, then adds, "You smell fresh and good and sexy... right now that's how you smell," and he rubs his nose under my chin giving me shivers as my arms go around his waist pulling his crotch against mine. He snickers at that too and then lifts his head to kiss my lips. Nice sloppy kiss after which, he says what he always says, "Be patient, baby. Let's enjoy each other for a while first, okay? We'll get there."
My cock is now getting hard in my pants but luckily it was lying a little to the side as it grows harder and harder it's not poking out the lap of my jeans, not much anyhow. Danny can feel it's hardness against his crotch though, so his hand goes down there to squeeze my junk as he rubs his nose against mine again, and murmurs, "Ah, this boner in your pants shows me how much you love me. Nobody I've ever known in my entire life gets hard as fast as you do." Damn, I'm feeling dizzy already... wonderfully dizzy.
While keeping one arm around me, the fingers of Danny's other hand begin working on the button of my jeans. When he gets the button undone he spreads the zipper, opening my pants and then slides his hand under the waistband of my jockey shorts. His hand on my privates is wet and cold making me shiver, but it's a different kind of shiver than I had a minute ago. Danny's cold wet hand grabs my bare cock and squeezes it as he mutters, "Yeah, you got a nice hard boner here, baby." Considering his cold wet hand you'd think my dick would lose some of its hardness. Nope, it doesn't because it's Danny's hand and feels good. He pulls my cock to the front and strokes it a couple of times.
Both my arms tighten around him as I sort of shuffle my feet. Danny snickers again... this boy always has a good time as though he doesn't have a care in the world, and then he says, "I love that your penis is a smaller version of mine. Your mini-me penis is like my dick's little brother." Later I'll correct that misconception... our dicks are almost twins, pretty much identical although his cock does get a little longer than mine when fully erect.
Danny exhales in my face, a beery breath of moist air and then his other hand comes away from my waist so he can pull my jockey shorts down in front. The waistband stays up above my buttocks in back while in front he hooks the waistband under my nuts which pulls my scrotum up until my nuts are facing forward as much as my stiff cock.
My body's heat has warmed Danny's hand by now so it feels really good in his fist now, and yeah, through all this, I've just been standing here like a statue. I'm not moving because I enjoy letting Danny do whatever he wants on my body; I like being touched by him. The way he goes about everything continues to fascinate me, the way it has for months now. It puts me in one of my pleasant trances... almost hypnotizes me. Nothing new there, he's been doing it since early last summer and by now we both take it for granted. It's just part of what we do almost every time we're together.
Still holding my hard cock, Danny makes out with me for a minute or so and it's crazy how wildly hot I get from his kissing, his tongue, his teeth scraping against mine and the way he does whatever he feels like. Christ, he's so desirable. And then he does his amazingly special sexy lovers-like kiss... that 'technique-kiss' he either learned from or stole from Hayden. I'm putty in his hands and from my quiet moans and body language, Danny knows it but he doesn't take too much of advantage because of it.
Our buddy sex relationship has defined roles by now for both of us. That's rare when having buddy sex because it almost always happens too infrequently and hardly ever continue for a long enough period of time for defined roles to be established. Most buddy sex is random, sometimes one-time affairs. And then, even repeated sexual activities with the same buddy, like Danny and me, requires consistent approaches from both parties in order for 'roles' to develop and that doesn't happen often. For example, with Ryan and me there was only consistency on my part and never on his. Omigod, Ryan was all over the fucking place depending on his changeable frame of mind; a mind that wasn't totally balanced in the first place. I was always the submissive partner but he was unpredictable due to his aforementioned unbalance, um, brain-wise.
Danny and I have been sexually involved for six months or so and that's not even counting most of the summer when I was crushing on him. He enjoyed me crushing on him but didn't take it seriously until just before fall classes began. Then he got involved totally and now, mostly because of Danny, we have this almost romantic buddy sex relationship. So, yeah, we've had longevity and consistency and therefore are roles have been established during sex. Frankly, I've never been involved in anything quite like this before. Our roles are simple: Danny is firmly in charge during sex and I pretty much do what I'm told... sometimes.
Anyway, Danny's still casually stroking my cock as he goes," Jesus, I can't see anything in here, baby, but I can feel and smell you and that's all I need to make you feel good." I nod my head against his shoulder, feeling good already. He adds, "Well, what I need to do is apologize 'cause I forgot to bring anything for lubricant. Do you mind?" I take a deep breath and get my arms around his neck and then lay the side of my face against his, murmuring, "No, I don't mind." He goes, "Oh, good. Um, but could you push your hips out a little, please? I want to stroke you off to climax and then use your cum off my fingers for lube." Haha, I can tell from his tone of voice he's kidding; he's not going to do that. I push my hips away from him a little anyway, and he says, "Thanks."
His personal scent, his pheromones, which are chemical emission in case ya didn't know, are different than Rob's although both boys' pheromones are very detectable to me. Some people aren't able to pick up humans' scents while others are attracted to someone because of their compatible pheromones, maybe without them being aware of it. Bloodhounds are proof, if you need proof, that all humans have a personal scent, a unique scent as unique as their fingerprints. Bloodhounds can track a human scent from a scarf a person wore six months ago and track that scent for many miles.
I'm standing here in this dark shed with the side of my face next to Danny's enjoying his scent while he strokes my cock and jokes around, saying shit like, "This is a very romantic spot, don't you think?" I murmur, "Uh huh," even though it's one of the most unromantic places I can think of. He snickers and asks, "I am with Dylan Newman, right? I think that's who I'm with. I forget," and he goes on saying other nonsense that I'm not paying much attention to.
As I said, Danny takes charge of our sexual activities, which usually is good old fashioned buddy sex like this, but he often insists on the "I love you' comments as well, which isn't eversupposed to be part of buddy sex. Also, when we're in his bed he'll sometimes do his version of lover's sex which I definitely shouldn't participate in, but I do anyway. Mostly though, it's fun, relaxing, very hot buddy sex although normally we can at least see each other.
I've gotten so relaxed and used to his slow stroking on my hard cock by now I'm sort of hanging on him with my arms around his neck and being typically docile for him. It's really nice until the pleasure sensations floating off my sensitive hard penis accumulate to a point where I grunt and then make a gasping sound, my body stiffening as my hips buck slightly with pre-cum sort of shooting out my gaping piss slit. Oh fuck though, it felt good. Danny goes, "Oops! That wasn't it, was it? You didn't shoot your load, right?" I shake my head against the side of his face and shoulder, not wanting to talk because I'm groveling in a nice submissive trance by now.
It's only been five or six minutes since coming into this pitch-black situation, this log-cluttered shed, but even in these less than ideal conditions it didn't take long for Danny unknowingly to get me almost hypnotized. Sometimes he recognizes my trances and makes fun of them, and who could blame him? Sure, for me, the trances are dreamy sexual interludes the likes of which I've never noticed others experiencing, so it's a bit weird and I'm aware of that, although I have no intentions of changing anything.
Then I get jostled out of my hypnotic trance when Danny lets go of my wickedly hard dick and puts his hands on either side of my face, the fingers on his right hand wet with a few smears of my pre-cum. Holding my face between his hands Danny kisses my mouth, his active pink tongue sliding on mine and a lot of his saliva gets pushed into my mouth before he gently exerts downward pressure on my head, saying, "I got your dick hard... now it's your turn."
He doesn't always want oral sex but when he does I'm happy to oblige. Often he gets a boner as fast as I do because, as he's said fifty times, he gets sexually aroused by me faster and more intensely than anyone else he's had sex with. That could be just a throwaway line from him, something he says to every guy he wants sucking his dick, but I think Danny's being truthful with me.
I like sucking his dick, but I don't want to get on my knees in here because we tracked rainwater in with us and I'd have telltale wet spots or dirt on the knees of my jeans. Instead, I crouch down the way a baseball catcher does it. Of course, my boner is sticking defiantly straight out between my legs which normally a catcher wouldn't need to deal with. Also, Danny's got my underpants waistband hooked under my nuts which isn't totally comfortable... another thing baseball catchers usually wouldn't need to deal with.
Also, instead of catching anything, I pull down Danny's zipper and fish out his penis that I can't see but know for a fact is pinkish/white and very straight with a rosy-colored head that's slightly wider than the straight pinkish/white shaft. I can feel that Danny's cock is fairly firm. I get my fist around it with the head sticking out the top of my fist and then lick the head... lap, lap, lap like it's a lollypop... a tasty Tootsie Roll Pop. The long laps across the head feeling his quivering piss slip on my tongue like a minnow going for that tiny fish food people put in fish tanks... it's like dust.
Very quickly I'm getting sloppy with my cock sucking, slobbering on Danny's cock and taking my fist off it so I can suck and slobber, not only on the head but all over as much of the shaft as I can get in my mouth. Spit is drooling down my chin, my arms around his ass and there's the thought in the back of my mind that we're gonna fuck without lube which is one of the reasons I'm transferring as much spit onto his cock as possible. Spit isn't much of a lubricant but it's better than nothing. My saliva along with his pre-cum is gonna be all the lubricant we've got because he never got me to climax from stroking my cock.
The knob of his cock, meaning the very hard head keeps bumping the gag reflex area of my throat at the extreme back of my mouth and now I'm gagging every couple of seconds. That goes on for a while until Danny mutters, "Oh, for Christ sake," and thrust his hard boner down my throat.
Huh, I suppose my gagging sounds got on his nerves, but for a second or so I'm like... what the fuck happened? I mean my throat all of a sudden is full of cock! I should have been ready for it but doing this in absolute darkness, and I mean it is as dark as it gets, plus there's the subtle sound of the rain coming down outside, well, it's disorienting and shocked me when his cock conquered my throat like that. It made me feel like an amateur for a few seconds there.
.3
After Danny does a dozen or so rather slow pushing and pulling of his boner back and forth in my throat, four inches of boner sliding tightly up and down it, he stops to press his groin against my face with his pubic hair tickling my nose. Danny makes a weird whiny sound, "Aaaaaa, mm," and then another light hump against my face before he pulls his swollen cock from my throat leaving the head feeling heavy on my tongue. He rubs my head before slowly sliding the cock head forward until it's touching the gag reflex area again 'causing more gagging sounds from me and then it goes down my throat again and my whole body quivers with submissiveness. Yep, it's awesome...
In this pitch black shed, it's almost as if this awesomely dominant boner is hanging in the air without a body; it's just there for me in the darkness of eternity. That scary image briefly evaporates during the three or four seconds the head is back on my tongue again and I'm able to inhale while gagging. During that brief inhale of oxygen my brain recognizes Danny's scent and then that boner goes down my throat and I'm out in the darkness of endless space and time again, me and this deep-throating boner that's magically dominating me and my throat. With my eyes closed or open it's the same sensation. It's me, this magical boner in the darkness, and my boner... the three of us out there somewhere in space, maybe together like this forever.
It's closer to a minute than forever before I cough at some pre-cum drooling down my throat and the magic boner is pulling out. It spurts some pre-cum on my tongue, and then there's that familiar sexy, but brief scent again as legs from the darkness are hitting my knees. Oh, it's Danny shuffling his feet. And then Danny pulls his hard cock out of my mouth completely, moaning, "Umm, ooh, fuccck... oooh." His boner left behind a plop of pre-cum. With no cock in my mouth and throat, I come mostly out of my trance and swish the pre-cum to the side without swallowing any of it. It's nature's lubricant and I'm gonna need it shortly.
My first inclination is to sit back on my ass to relieve my aching legs and knees but I come to my senses at the last second and don't do that. Instead, I groan with the effort of standing up wondering how the fuck baseball catchers stay in that crouch position on and off more than a hundred times each game?
My hand goes out in the pitch-black of space to touch Danny's body. Oh good, he's still right here and to further confirm that our boners, both of them apparently sticking straight out from our bodies, bump into each other. My eyes have completely adjusted to this pitch-black situation in here and I still can't see a fucking thing.
Danny's fingers are on my face as he chuckles, saying, "Holy shit, cool... I cannot fucking see you at all!" I'm looking around hoping to see something, anything, like maybe a crack between the door and the doorframe but all I see, is blackness. I mumble, "I'm not sure how cool this is, Danny... spooky maybe." He goes, "Don't be a scaredy-cat, baby," and his hands find my hips trying to turn me around. I mutter, "Hold it a second," and put my right hand on his stomach, then drag my fingers down until I get hold of his boner. It's still rock-hard and sticking straight out. Leaning over I carefully move the spit and pre-cum from my mouth to the head of his boner, then stand up, turn around and bend over grabbing my knees.
Danny murmurs, "Good move, baby," as his fingers poke just above my buttocks. He gets my underpants down in the back which relieves the pressure under my nuts from the waistband. Danny's fingers drift down my butt cheek on the left and then I feel a finger poke my asshole and then, "Aaaah," from me as the head of his cock pushes inside me.
Danny makes a hissing sound and then he goes, "Mmmm," while, in my head I go, 'OW!' It's not a serious hurt because Danny's penis is pretty much the perfect size for fucking my ass... and his pre-cum helped the entry. There's always gonna be some initial hurt though. Plus, Danny's penis isn't small... it's just right. Penis sizes can fool you though. That kid in Georgia with the two-inch boner... Tucker was his name. He fucked me a number of times with that two-inch boner of his and I had fantastic orgasms every time. It was the bulbous head of his boner that was actually half his whole boner and it was constantly right on, right against, my prostate as it moved back and forth rapidly. It was... Omigod, something out of a comic book, but... WOW!
That was a fraction of a second memory but my attention is now focused on Danny's stone-hard boner slowly being pushed inch by inch up inside me, and then there's another spike of pain that makes me grunt when he humps two or three additional inches up there. He must be impatient!
Jesus, I'm not sure if my eyes are open or closed but I think I saw a bright light when Danny shoved that three inches of boner up my ass. The bright light was only in my mind, bright light like an old-time flashbulb going off. That's forgotten almost as soon as it happened though as my prostate begins pulsing out pleasure vibrations, and then Danny's pubic hairs are tickling my butt cheeks for a second, and then, Ooooh!" he's tight against my ass. Oooh fuck yeah, it feels good now!
Danny takes a couple of noisy deep breaths and then says, "Jesus, this feels good," I mutter, "Uh huh," and he goes, "Here we go, baby," and it's, "Slap, Slap, Slap," sounds in the dark with me shuddering right off the bat. Yeah, it was hot foreplay for that minute of intense deep-throating so I'm already sexually aroused almost to the point of climaxing and now the number two sexual pleasure I know of in all of nature... getting fucked up the ass, what's better than that? C'mon... it's climax!
Because of our unnatural circumstances in the darkness of outer space, I've lost my normal sexual dreamy trance so I get to visualize and concentrate on Danny's excellent hard penis going back and forth in my ass... in and out, in and out. In my mind I watch it disappearing up inside me and that visual makes my shoulders shudder again. I can just imagine that throbbing cock head turning dark red in its tightness plunging in past my sphincter and up the dark tunnel of love into the unknown darkness of my bowels which, now that I think about it, have never seen the light of day. Jeez, it probably matches the darkness in this shed.
My world is all sexual pleasure now as the "Slapslapslap," sounds, and Danny's grunts of, "Um, um, um," with each thrust is all I care about. His thrusts rock my body forward every time, my hands on my knees are the only things keeping me from toppling forward on my face.
I can visualize Danny's hips moving steadily, his arms across his chest casual-like, or maybe they're just hanging at his sides as he drives his cock back and forth in my rectum while he experiences fabulous sensations from a million nerve endings in his penis and luxuriates in that sexual pleasure. Now I feel his hands at my hips holding tightly as he increases the speed and force of his thrusting, pulling me back into his hard fast thrusts.
He's doing mostly ragged breathing sounds now, loud desperate breathing sounds while I'm moaning loudly and not caring if it sounds stupid. It feels so good being fucked and Danny's boner does it so well! My climax is bullying its way past the normal delicious pleasure of being fucked up the ass in preparation of reaching the highest level of pleasure and its name is... as I already said, climax. The anticipation of that makes my eyes open wide with my body getting stiff and then, "Eeeeiii!" as cum rockets from my cock sizzling hot coming out in a flashing streak. I thought I saw it even in this impenetrable darkness like a strike of lightning. I know I heard it splash off what sounded like stiff paper so it must have hit an artificial log. And then, "Ahhhh!" as another shot of cum flies out and I bite my lip groaning at the near-pain... but it's not pain, it's intense pleasure like no other I know of, or can imagine.
And, as always, it's fleeting. The intense pleasure that makes it impossible to breathe for six, seven or even eight seconds is replaced much too quickly with a lesser pleasure that's still awesome although that too reduces quickly to a pleasure that simply makes me sigh and shudder a little. Then my body relaxes completely as a few after effects zip pleasurably around my body. I squeeze my softening cock and everything returns to normal, or as normal as fucking in a shed in complete blackness can be.
Now I can take notice of what's going on with Danny. Oh, nothing's going on with him. He's already pulled his cock from my ass. Christ, he could have left the building as far as I can tell. Of course, he hasn't left but I can't see anything. I can hear him making breathing sounds though. I straighten up while reaching out my arms... my right-hand grazing his chest.
I hear Danny exhale now and then he goes, "That was great, baby... fantastic!" His hand touches mine and then we're together for a hug. Danny goes, "Um, heh heh, I know you carry a handkerchief, the only guy in Massachusetts who does, and that's a good thing. It's all we have to use cleaning up a little." My jeans never went down past my knees. First, I pull the waistband of my jockey shorts from under my nuts and then put my hand on the back of my jeans feeling for the back pocket, mumbling, "I'm looking for my handkerchief."
I find it and we try cleaning up a little. Danny wiping his pecker and then he drops the handkerchief while wiping his drooling cum from my buttocks. We both are feeling around on the floor and it gets us giggling when our heads bump together. Giggling at how stupid this is. Danny finds the handkerchief and finishes wiping my ass with it. I hear him zipper-up his fly and I pull my underpants and jean up as Danny asks, "Are we ready?" I mutter, "As ready as we'll ever be," and he fumbles at the door, finally yelling, "Can I believe this shit? I think it's locked." I go, "Get the fuck outta here. Move over, let me try." I'm pushing at the door and then kicking it. Danny's Bic lighter lights-up the place a little and we see we were trying to open the door at the side with the hinges.
We snicker again and push open the door with rainy cool air hitting us in the face. Christ, after that total darkness in the shed, the dull moon behind all the rain clouds looks bright! We stand here as Danny asks, "How long were we in here?" I shrug, "No more than ten minutes," and that's pretty accurate although it seemed longer. It seemed at times like we were in there forever. I sucked his cock for maybe two minutes and then he fucked me for less than five minutes. We fucked around at first too, so I go, "Or, maybe twelve minutes but no more than that." Danny looks at me and grins, saying, "Not that it makes a fucking bit of difference, huh?" Pointing at the shed, he asks, "Ya wanna go back in there?" I'm like, "Nope!" and we run across wet grass to the fence, hesitate and then climb over it and run to the back door of the Ale House. Standing under the roof's overhang again, I'm like, "No way am I gonna go through that kitchen again! They'll be ready for us this time."
Danny chuckles as he's fumbling a joint out of his coat pocket. He lights it as I roll my eyes and look disgusted. He grins in my face while sucking some smoke into his lungs and then holds the joint out to me. Ah, what the fuck? I take it and draw some smoke into my lungs but don't hold it in, letting it out right away. With the smoke pouring out of his mouth, he says, "Ah, baby! You're smoking a joint with me. I know you don't like pot so that's so nice of you to keep me company." He hugs me and goes, "You love me! I can tell!" I go, "Riiiight," and pass him the joint. For the next five-minutes we pass it back and forth until my head is swimming and then I shake my swimming head 'no' when Danny passes the joint to me this time.
He takes the last tote off it, saying, "It's a roach anyway," and he flicks it out into the night. He takes my hand, saying, "C' mon," and we run around the side of the building in the rain holding hands, both of us laughing our asses off like we're crazy. I don't know what we're laughing at.
We're fairly soaked walking in the front door, rain dripping off my head and Danny's hat. Connor is the first person we see and I'm still laughing as I give him a wet hug. He grins smelling marijuana smoke on us, muttering, "Potheads." And that becomes our excuse for being wet and among the missing for the last fifteen minutes... we smoked a joint outside in the rain. Robby shakes his head, saying, "That Monday character is a bad influence on you. I might need to speak with his mother about that. And you're grounded for a week." He's smiling while saying that horseshit. He's also slightly smashed from the shots and beers he's had. Danny and I laugh our nuts off at Robby as though that was funny... 'cause we're high.
We stay for another hour or so drinking beer until eventually, we're having a shot with our beer. That's apparently unavoidable with college students. I hardly see Danny at all after we walked in the door high on weed. It's a pretty good night overall though and we're not far from the campus, so I'm able to navigate home driving the pickup without any untoward incidents. We give a ride to three guys who live on campus but none of them am I familiar with. I don't think even Robby knows the one who keeps saying, "I think I'm gonna hurl," but thankfully he doesn't, not until he takes two steps out of the pickup. Robby slurs, "Jesus, that was close...".
Waking up Friday morning we've both got hangovers. Not a small one, but not a horrendous one either. It helps that we slept until almost noon and then we take everything nice and easy for a couple of hours. I'm thinking... thank God we don't have a class on Fridays! When we got up we both drank a bottle of Gatorade along with three Advil tablets and then collapse on the sofa to rest. Around two o'clock we have bowls of Quaker Oats instant oatmeal with milk and maple syrup, plus a couple of cups of coffee. It's all we feel like eating.
We never get dressed. I have on jockey shorts and my childhood bathrobe and Rob is wearing pajama bottoms he put on when he got out of bed, plus his bathrobe. Around four o'clock we take separate showers and then put some clothes on. In the living room again, me in the chair and Rob standing next to the sofa, he asks, "Hey, babe, what the fuck are we supposed to do today" I shrug, "Um, not much. Ah, I guess we should get our stuff together to take home for spring break. Oh, and we want to get haircuts from Danny first thing tomorrow morning." He says, "Fuck that! I'm calling Danny 'cause his last class is over by now and there's no baseball practice. He can do our haircuts today."
Rob gets his cell phone out as I'm thinking... Danny ain't gonna do it! I'll let Rob find that out for himself though.
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