DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME
Chapter 24
By Donny Mumford
It's was inevitable that Chubby and I would wake up this morning with massive hangovers. Even so we felt it necessary to do the mandatory turning-twenty-one ritual, fully aware of the consequences. It's one of those rite of passage things, a cultural anthropological ceremony. We entered this new phrase of our lives two days apart, me first and two days later Chubby hit the magic number of birthdays; twenty-one to be exact. We celebrated the occasion by getting kinda drunk, although technically not on either of our actual birthdays. Sleeping until almost eleven o'clock Thursday morning, and thereby wasting good beach time, another unavoidable consequence, I get up groggy and grumpy. Waking Chubby we pad into the kitchen swallow Advil and guzzle down lots of orange juice passing the carton of OJ back and forth. As we're staggering around feeling dizzy there's very few utterances coming from either of us, but we manage to shower and get dressed, then hit the boardwalk where we have a traditional breakfast of eggs, bacon, home fries, toast and two cups of coffee each. Outside the restaurant, still with very little conversation, we sit on a boardwalk bench looking out at the beach and the rolling ocean beyond it. It's mercifully a party-cloudy day with a good ocean breeze. Finally Chubby mumbles, "Can you believe I'm thinking I might smoke a cigarette?" I shrug, mumbling back, "No, I can't imagine doing that with my head feeling like a balloon. Ya know, that 'no-smoking-in-public-places' rule is probably a pretty good one. Just imagine if we were smoking cigarettes along with drinking too many draft beers and shots of bourbon. We'd probably need to be hospitalized."
Taking our time walking back to the condo, I get a text from Dodger. He promised Norman, who has never seen an ocean before yesterday, they'd go deep sea fishing. Do we want to join them?" I ask Chubby and he just gives me a 'look', like: 'Are you out of your bleeping mind?', so I text back, 'No thanks', but we'll catch up with you boys later this afternoon.' Whoa, this heat doesn't mix well with a hangover. At the condo we're getting the beach chairs out of the Volvo when we both decide we need to use the bathroom.
Leaving the chairs in the driveway we trudge up the steps to the deck and go inside through the French doors. When we've both finished with the bathroom we can't resist laying on our beds in air-conditioned comfort for just a few minutes. Naturally we fall back to sleep. Sleeping is one of only three ways to recover from a hangover: time passing is one of the three, and sleeping is an excellent way for time to pass, then you need something for the headache, and the third remedy is drinking lots of liquids. We had the Advil and orange juice, plus we put food in our stomachs, so I'm happily passing time while sleeping until I hear insistent knocking on the door off the deck. Oh man, I sit up glancing over at Chubby and have to grin because he'd flipped over to his stomach with one foot on the floor and one on the bed.
Getting up I pad into the family room and see Charlie at the French doors.
Damn, he's a good looking kid. Opening the door, I ask, "Yes?" as if I can't imagine why he's here. He goes, "Yes? Whaddaya mean, yes? It's twelve-thirty. Don'cha wanna get in some beach time today?" I go, "Beach time, hummm?" He's like, "You remember: sit on the beach doing some people watching while chit chatting with friends and family, then some body surfing in the ocean where we'll purposely collide with each other so you can feel my hot body. That kind of beach time." Scratching my head, I yawn, then mutter, "The
verbose babbling of a child," and he goes, "I'm only one year and a couple of days younger than you." I say, "Come inside, Charlie, you're letting all that hot air in." He steps in and I give him a hug, saying, "You actually do have a hot body." He grins, "See! And you're missing it."
He follows me into the kitchen where I take two very cold Snapples from the refrigerator, pass one to him, then drink half of mine, gulp after gulp." Taking a deep breath, I go, "When you turn twenty-one, Charles, be careful you don't act foolish and get roaring drunk. There's hell to pay if you do." He asks, "Is that what you did?" I frown at him, "Me? No, of course not,
but I fear my brother has." Chubby comes out of the bedroom, asking, "What are telling this young fellow, bro?" I go, "Mostly bullshit," as I'm handing him my half bottle of Snapple iced tea. He finishes it letting it roll down his throat without swallowing. Charlie's staring at Chubby, then asks, "How'd you do that without swallowing?" Chubby mumbles, "It's something adults have no problem doing. When you grow-up you'll be able to do it too." I say, "Bro, do you think we've beat this age thing to death yet?" He nods, "Oh for sure, but I was just picking up on your never-ending rap about age the last two days." I say, "I'm done with it. It's out of my system."
Chubby mumbles, "Good," and Charlie mutters, "Ditto."
We wash our face and hands, take two more Advil each and we're ready to face the world. Charlie follows me down the steps, saying, "The asshole won't be back until tomorrow." I've got the back of my hand against my nose, mumbling, "Hey, give Ronny a break. He's trying to befriend you." At the Volvo, the beach chairs are laying on the ground where we left them when we came back from breakfast. Chubby says, "My faith in humankind is restored.
Nobody stole our beach chairs." Charlie takes mine, saying, "I'll carry your's, Dylan. I'll probably be sitting in it anyway." I go, "Not today little buddy, I'm hurting and therefore require a day of dozing off in my beach chair with the sights and sounds of the beach and ocean all around me soothing my throbbing head." He says, "You can lie on my beach blanket and doze there." I say, "As soon as we get to the beach, Charlie, you need to rub sun screen all over me. Do it slowly with the palms of both hands, and don't miss any spots." Chubby's chuckling, then says, "You do have more fun than me, bro. Maybe I'm on the wrong team." I say, "Nonsense," then add, "Ya know what, Chub? I'm gonna take a brave, albeit stupid, chance and having a cigarette." He mutters, "You're a braver man than me." I light a cigarette and take a drag. Exhaling it I mumble, "This blows," but I don't throw it away.
Charlie's using his free hand to wave the smoke away from his face as I tell Chubby, "You had way more shots of bourbon than me, and therefore I'm recovering quicker. I don't know when you're going to learn that moderation in all things works best." Charlie says, "Not all things," and I go, "Well, yeah, there are exceptions to the rule. There are always exceptions to the rule."
On the beach we exchange greeting with everyone, then Rider says, "By the look of you two I'm assuming you ignored everything Bud and I told you about drinking in bars." Chubby says, "Huh, now that you mention it, Rider, we didn't exactly follow the advice you offered us, not to the letter anyway."
Bud goes, "What part of our advice did you follow?" I mumble, "Um, we'll need to get back to you on that." My Mom says, "I know you boys will handle being twenty-one as well as you've handled every other age, but here's a suggestion that Tris and I have been doing the past ten years. Whatever we spend on drinks during a girls night out, we put that amount of money in savings from next weeks' tips." Chubby says, "That's exactly what we'll do starting when we're twenty-eight." Tris says, "Don't be fresh, Jeffrey!" Chubby gives my Mom a hug, "Just kidding, Dee. It's good advice."
Charlie's in my beach chair so I lay on his beach blanket smelling Downey fabric softener. Huh, I expected to smell him on the blanket. Chubby's huddled with Ellie and Jessica telling them lies about what he and I did last night . The six older adults are talking politics, so I wiggle my finger at Charlie and he comes over to the blanket, asking, "What?" I go, "Did you forget? You're suppose to rub sun screen all over my body. The bottle is in that beach satchel I carried down with me." Lying on my stomach I watch him gets the sun screen, then he drops to his knees next to me and spreads some lotion on my shoulders. I tell him, "Next year you'll be twenty-one, Charlie, and people will call you an adult, but that's a complete joke. Don't believe them. You'll show you're ID but no one will believe it's not fake, so be prepared to deal with the police." He says, "I'm not worried about it, plus you said you were done emphasizing that you're twenty-one now and I'm not." I go, "Don't interrupt. I'm passing on good advice from my vast experience of being twenty-one. Shortly after becoming legal age you'll be financially broke because drinks in bars cost five to six times more than if you bought the beverage at the store. And, be careful you don't get drunk in a bar and start buying rounds of drinks for guys you hardly know. Here's a motto you need to remember: you booze, you lose." He mutters, "Yes, Methuselah."
He's spreading the sun screen down my back near my ass, mumbling, "I'm not listening to anything else you say, Dylan, so you might as well save your breath." His fingers go under the waistband of my swimsuit with one finger going down my ass crack with him snickering. I glance at the group and see no one's paying any attention to us, so I enjoy the feel of Charlie's long fingers and the soft palm of his hands. By the time he's finished sliding his hands down the back of my legs I've got a raging boner. He has a mischievous grin on his face, saying, "You can turn over now and I'll cover your chest and stomach with this creamy lotion, way down low on your belly too."
I chuckle flashing him the finger. He flops down next to me and nestles against my side. I ask him, "How come this blanket smells like Downey fabric softener?" He puts his sun screen dripping finger in my ear, mumbling, "You're a smart guy, take a guess." I go, "Because the blanket's just been washed?" His lips close to my ear, he whispers, "Will you fuck me in our alcove?
Pleeeease." My boner gets harder. I say, "Ya know what? I'm glad your folks rented the condo across from ours." He goes, "Me too. Let's go in for a swim," and he nestles up against me tighter. I quietly say, "Try not to be quite so obvious, Charlie." He goes, "Why? Everyone knows we're gay." I go, "Yeah, but I feel funny flaunting that fact in front of my Mom, ya know?"
He says, "Okay, but come in for a swim." I nod, "I will as soon as a part of my body relaxes." He laughs, then whispers, "I'm glad I can make that part of your body, um, unrelaxed." I'm like, "Me too, but for now would you go sit the fuck down in my beach chair." He gets up, pats my ass, and does what he's told. Ha ha, there's definitely something to the dominant side of things.
I lay here as my headache fades and think how lucky I am that cute gay guys are occasionally attracted to me, mostly for reasons I had nothing to do with. They're the same reasons guys I'm attracted to have nothing to do with it either. Obviously a person's physical appearance is the first thing that attracts one person to another, and some are luckier in that area than others. Physical appearance preferences vary, but it's more than just facial
appearances anyway. There are other things one considers, like the way a guy moves, and their voice and scent, as well as how they dress and their hair style... everything. We have a preprogrammed concept of what we consider attractive; one that's been developed, mostly subconsciously, our entire lives. A common interest is the next step in forming a relationship. And that's true no matter if it's sexual in nature, or not initially. Then of course
there needs to be a physical proximity. Charlie and I temporarily qualify in all those areas and consequently we're attracted to one another. The temporary part comes in after this week when we won't have the third ingredient... physical proximity. Oh, and personality compatibility is part of it too. It also helps greatly if the guy I'm attracted to has an understanding of what recreational sex is all about too. Charlie has that part down pat and I really like him, but I can't honestly say that about all my past casual sex partners. I can't think of any I disliked, but there have been those I hardly knew. Others, like Timmy for example, were okay although more a convenience than someone I was especially fond of. So Charlie rates quite highly on my list of sex-buddies and therefore I wish we lived closer back home.
Chubby interrupts my musings, "Hey, bro, we're going in for a swim; you wanna join us?" My boner's disappeared, so I get up, "Yeah, sure. Charlie, how about you?" He gets up too, giving me a frown. Ha, guess he wanted just the two of us to go for a swim. I return his frown with a smile and pat his shoulder, "C'mon, let's do that body surfing you mentioned earlier." The six of us jog far enough out in the ocean that we can dive under and swim out further looking for waves to body surf back to shore on. There's plenty of collisions during body surfing and not just between Charlie and me.
Vinnie runs into me accidentally on purpose one time and we come up wiping water from our faces with Vinnie saying, "It's going to be like old times this afternoon, huh?" I frown, asking, "How so?" and he goes, "Oh, you don't know?" I shake my head and he says, "I thought you knew," and he wades back out to catch another wave. I've had enough of the ocean for now so I go up the beach to the chairs and use my chair while I have the chance. My hangover, while much improved, is still a nagging reminder that it's still in charge and not ready to leave me in peace just yet.
Earlier it was cloudy but the sun's very bright right now so I take a deep breath and get out of the chair grabbing my sunglasses from the bag I brought with me, then slouch down in the beach chair hoping to doze off for a bit. One thing I'm sure of is this: they'll be no adult beverages passing by my lips tonight. One hangover of this magnitude per vacation is all I can handle. To my surprise I do nod off and when I open my eyes I see all six of the adult-adults have vacated their chairs. Charlie's on his blanket with Vinnie, who's apparently napping next to him. Chubby's in a giggling conversation with Ellie and Jesse while Dodger and Norman are playing cards: black-jack, or some call it twenty-one.
Taking a deep breath, I stretch while doing an inventory of how I'm feeling, concluding I'm feeling much better. My wristwatch reads one-twenty and I'm hungry and thirsty. I get out of the chair to watch Norman dealing a black jack hand to Dodger who gets twenty-one and collects Norman's dollar.
Dodger says, "So, sleeping beauty awakes." I mumble, "Anybody wanna get some lunch?" Chubby chirps up, "Yeah, it's two o'clock and about time we had some lunch; we were just talking about that." We can't just abandon the chairs, umbrella, and beach bags so we cut the deck of cards to see which two lose and need to go get pizzas and sodas for all of us. Jesse and Chubby lose.
They collect money from everyone, then trudge off to the boardwalk for our lunch.
The conversation is random ball-busting among the rest of us, strictly for shits and giggles. Ragging on one another including the fact I needed a nap, needless criticism of Ellie's one-piece retro bathing suit, Charlie's girly curls, Norman's hick North Dakota accent, Vinnie slipping in a word or two nobody knows the meaning of, and any Army nomenclature Norman or Dodger uses in their conversation: it all gets mocked in a good natured way totally for chuckles... no one's offended. Jesse and Chubby arrive carrying boxes of pizzas, and sodas in take-out plastic cups. As we eat and drink our lunch the Moms, Rider and Bud, plus Charlie's parents saunter back down the beach. I smell booze on my Moms breath when she asks me how I'm doing, so their lunch included a cocktail and there's nothing wrong with that.
After we've had all the pizza we want, Charlie and I take a walk. It was partly cloudy this morning, then the sun came out hot and bright, but the weather forecast predicts a thunder shower this afternoon. During the hot days of August it's not unusual to have a thunder and lightning storm with heavy rain that last ten minutes and then the sun comes out again, and there's often a rainbow. The sky's getting dark right now so it's likely the forecasters got it right this time. Charlie looks up, mumbling, "It looks like it's gonna rain any minute now." After my nap and then eating lunch I'm feeling close to normal. Glancing at Charlie, I get a stab of horniness and ask, "You got a packet in the little pocket of your bathing suit." He grins pulling out the corner of a condom packet, saying, "Whadda you think?" I nod, asking, "You ever been a Boy Scout?" He goes, "No, but I am prepared, if that's what you mean." I mutter, "Be prepared! Yeah, that's what I meant alright."
We walk a few steps and Charlie looks at me, asking, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking? And is 'our alcove' part of that thinking." I shrug at him, so he does one of his elaborate shrugs grinning at me. I go, "Charlie, honest to God, I think we've used up all our luck at the alcove. It's so, um, open. If it had a top, a roof of some kind, but it so fucking open." He says, "You can top this time," and I go, "Bullshit, it's your turn," and just like last time it's not IF we're going to be reckless enough to screw again in the wide open spaces, in daylight no less, it's who's going to top." He really wants to 'bottom' again and I don't put up much of an argument because I've enjoyed dominating his cute ass and he likes it so much it makes the sex extra hot for me. 'Hot' for side-sex I mean.
We get to the alcove as a few fat drops of rain splatter on the beach.
Looking up I start to say something, but Charlie cuts me off, saying, "It's less likely anyone will wander by if it's raining." I say, "Jeez, I don't think I've ever had sex outside during a thunder storm." He goes, "If we don't get hit by lightning it could be thrilling." I go, "Yeah, being one with nature and all that." As we approach the alcove I'm looking all around and don't see anyone, so that's good. Then a loud clap of thunder reminds me I'm not a fan of thunder storms. I'm beginning to have second thoughts when Charlie takes my hand and pulls be toward the alcove, saying, "Don't be afraid of a little thunder, fer fuck sakes."
I hate peer pressure! It makes you do dumb things. Inside the alcove we nod at Charlie's two condoms, snickering and shaking our heads slightly.
Charlie says, "You'd think someone would clean up shit like this." I go, "Yep, Wildwood needs to take a little more pride in their beaches." Of course no one would use this part of the beach with the stones and beach grass and all. Further to our right the beach totally ends with large boulders that are getting pounded by the waves. The winds picking up noticeably and I need to cup my hand over my lighter lighting a cigarette. Charlie goes, "A fucking cigarette? Now?" We both shrug together chuckling as he gets the condom packet out. I go, "Okay, I'll top, but I'm only using the lube from the condom. You're getting it bareback today, buster." He shrugs, "Like we haven't done bareback before."
With the cigarette clamped between my teeth I rip open the condom, but don't take it out of the packet yet, saying, "Aren't you forgetting something?" He's pulling his swim trunks down, mumbling, "No, I'm not forgetting anything," and he pulls my swimsuit down past my ass, drops to his knees and picks up my flimsy dick just as thunder roars and a huge lightning bolt cracks across the sky. I go, "Jesus!" as two big drops of rain hit right on top of my head. Charlie sucks my cock into his mouth and does his very practiced cock sucking as I play with his pretty long hair, asking, "Have you decided about your haircut yet?" Taking my now saliva ladened firm cock from his mouth, he looks up, saying, "No, you decide," and my cock goes back in his mouth.
Damn! That feels good as I grunt, "Umm, fuck," then say, "Lick my balls, Boy." He takes my cock out again, chuckling, "I haven't advanced to balls licking yet," and I go, "Oh, so I assume rimming my ass is out of the question too." He nods his head, "A correct assumption on your part," and he goes back to licking and sucking a boner on me until I push his head away, "That's enough, unless you want me shooting off in your mouth." He lets my hard cock flop out of his mouth, then wipes his mouth, saying, "Damn nice penis, Dylan." I go, "Thanks! Everybody tells me that." As he gets on his hands and knees, mumbling, "No, they don't." Seeing him on his hands and knees, I say, "So you want it doggy style, huh?" He grins, "Duh! How'd you guess?"
as he pushes his ass up and I smack it hard, "SMACK!" He yelps, then says, "I dare you to do that again." "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" and his hand comes back as he yells, "Okay, that's good," then he strokes his cock a few times.
I tell him, "Ya know what? I'm going to wear this damn condom so I can show you how much jism an experienced guy pours into one of these things.
Certainly not the marble size orgasms you shoot." He goes, "They're golf ball size. Not marble." Just sliding the condom onto my boner feels good. It's nicely snug. With a hand on Charlie's hips I pull his ass up a little bit more and humph the head of my boned-up cock past his sphincter muscle. He goes, "Umpt," as a loud thunder clap hammers our ears followed by another big flash of lightning. It makes me jerk my cock out, then the rain comes down hard and relentless. We're both saturated within ten seconds. With fat raindrops pinging off my head, hitting and splashing off Charlie's back, I hump my boner back in past his sphincter ring, then hump it three inches up his ass and watch his head come back and his back arch.
The rain's pouring down so hard I can't see ten feet in front of me and it's forming puddles in undulations in the hard packed sand. With rain water's rolling down my face as I thrust my hips smacking his buttocks with my crotch and grinding my hips. Charlie looks back scrunching his face, pleading, "Wait a second, okay?" I nod with so much rain pouring down my face my vision is blurry. Charlie's long hair is plastered against his scalp, hanging down against his cheeks with droplets of water falling off the ends. It's a torrential downpour if I've ever seen one. More thunder and lightning with rain loudly smacking the sand, and us. It's surreal as I pull back my cock and shove it immediately back up his ass with Charlie's head lifting up and his back arching again.
I lay on his back saying in his ear, "Is this hurting you?" He turns his head, yelling, "It feels so awesome I can't even tell you how good." Well, okay then! I start fucking his ass almost in a frenzy. I'm so fucking turned-on seeing him rocking forward with every hard slam up his ass. I suppose we're making the normal, "Slap, slap," sounds of males fucking, but we can't hear it because the rain's so noisy splattering all around us. I can just hear Charlie's, "Ooh!' with every drive up his ass. That's turning me on too.
It's torrents of rain and anyone outside for a few seconds is as soaked as we are. What a rush! All this warm rain water pouring down on us makes screwing in the shower seem like child's play. Yeah, but a torrential downpour twice in the same weeks' vacation? Talk about bad luck! The hell with it though; sex in the rain is cool! I see Charlie's head back so he's obviously sensing the pulsing of his prostate and sizzling from the lips of his anus. I imagine that in my mind as I savor the incredible sensations coming off my hard swollen cock. Oh man, it feels so good! I slap the side of his ass, sliding my boner back and forth fast, steadily, and smoothly, helped by the lubricant on the condom.
Maybe four minutes into this sexy endeavor Charlie lifts off his knees seemingly to get closer to my flying boner. His knees are still bent as he's on his hands and toes now and it's an even better position for me to fuck him harder. I'm grunting to myself hammering my boner up his ass, then too soon it's on me. My orgasm percolates for a minute and when I'm on the verge of climaxing, my head back, moaning at the uncountable sensation from the head of my cock, Charlie thrust his hips forward and shoot a hard stream of cum almost straight down to splattering on the sand just like the rain is doing on either side of him. His second desperate thrust forward pulls off my cock as I'm shooting my load in the condom.
Gasping, seeing stars in my head, I hop forward with my boner in my fingers impaling him again. He's back on his hands and knees with me humping my boner in an out of his opened-up rectum, three more shots of cum slap into the condom, then I'm thrusting for thirty seconds more before backing up and stumbling with my boner coming out of Charlie and me slipping in the wet sand and falling on my ass. The condom comes off while I'm stroking my cock. Dropping the condom, I lie back on the wet sand and let the rain pour down on me as I absently stroke my semi-hard cock. Then the rain stops like turning off a spigot. I'm breathing deeply looking up watching the sun drifting out behind a cloud. Huh, I don't see a rainbow, but there should be one.
Charlie walks over to me on his hands and knees looking like a drowned puppy, grinning and asking, "Would you slide your cock up my ass again." I mumble, "Sit on it if you want," and he turn around and takes my cock in his fingers, asking, "What happen to the condom?" I nod at it lying floppily in the sand. Chuckling, he guides my cock to his asshole and sits on it all the way until he's sitting in my lap. My cock starts getting real hard again right away. Ahh, youth! I lift up and get my arms around his waist as Charlie uses his hands, one on either side of him, to lift up and down on my cock a half dozen times or so. Collapsing back on my legs, he leans the back of his head on my shoulder, his back against my chest, saying, "Hug me, Dylan." I mutter, "I am hugging you," and he says, "Tighter."
After a minute being snugly up Charlie's ass my dick's really hard again so I push him forward and, half standing, I fuck his ass for another three or four minutes hearing the familiar, "Slap, slap, slap," but I lose my nerve when I think I hear someone saying something on the sidewalk above us.
Pulling out of him, I pull up my swimsuit, saying, "Pull your suit up, Charlie." Standing so I can look around, but don't see anyone. Charlie stands, asking, "What?" I go, "Oh nothing. I thought I heard something." He leans against me, "That was so cool! I loved getting fucked in a thunder storm." I put my arm across his shoulders leading him out of the alcove, saying, "Yeah, I bet we both remember this for a long time."
He shrugs away from my arm as we walk towards the regular sandy beach, saying, "Somebody will see us." I laugh, "You're not worried about screwing in broad daylight, but you are concerned someone will see two buddies with an arm across one of their shoulders." He goes, "That's right, but damn that felt good! Do more smacking on my ass when you're fucking me next time, Dylan. That's fucking sexy." I'm like, "You're 'topping' next time or there won't be a next time." He goes, "Ha, you're too easy. Um, too nice actually.
I can whine a little and you let me have my way." I go, "Not next time, whiner. I want that big dick of yours inside my ass." He mimics what I've said to him a couple of times, "Well see."
Things are drying quickly in the hot sun as we start walking back to our chairs. We're walking near the top of the beach and see wafts of steam coming off the black top streets. "Let's walk near the water, Charlie," and we go down to where the waves run out on the beach, then go in for a swim.
Waiting for a good wave to surf on, he says, "Damn! I wanted to see your cum load in the condom." I mumble, "It was much larger than either of yours." He
smirks, muttering, "I'm so sure," and we surf in to shore and then walk down to where our families are.
The parents and fiancés apparently took their chairs and stuff back to the condos, probably when it looked like it would rain. Chubby's in the ocean with Jesse and Ellie. Dodger, Norman, and Vinnie are reliving this morning's deep sea fishing trip. Charlie sits in my beach chair so I use Chubby's and we hear about Dodger and Vinnie getting wicked sea sick. Only Norman did any actual fishing. They tell us there isn't anything to compare seasickness to; it's totally debilitating. Dodger goes, "Vinnie and I were helped inside the cabin where we sat on chairs with our chest and heads on the table unable to so much as lift our heads." Vinnie goes, "That's after we threw up our lunch and one of our nuts." Ironic that Norman, who's never even seen an ocean, was the one with the sea legs.
After the storm we have a normal afternoon on the beach. Then around six o'clock I ask Chubby, "What's the deal with dinner tonight?" He goes, "We're on our own tonight. Let the Moms and their guys have a night to themselves," and Charlie says, "We're going out to eat too." Jesse says, "It's a restaurant my parents take us to every year. Some joint in Cape May that has a Cape Cod lobster dinner that taste like seaweed. They cook everything on hot rocks and seaweed covered by a tarp. It's horrible." I shrug, "Why do you guys go then?" Charlie says, "Oh, our parents are originally from New England. Jessica and I go along so we don't hurt their feelings." I say, "We're from New England too, and I agree with you about that kind of lobster dinner. Waste of good lobsters." Ellie says, "I'm not as nice as those guys.
I'm staying back here."
Taking advantage of that opening, Chubby sets up a dinner date with Jesse, which makes me give him a dirty look. He goes, "Sorry, bro, but Dodger said you were eating with those guys." I look over at Dodger, who says, "Yeah, you are. I just haven't gotten around to telling you yet." I say, "You mean you haven't gotten around to asking me yet." He gives me his sly smile, saying, "If you prefer to think of it like that, fine. How about having dinner with me and the boys tonight?" I say, "I'd love to, thanks for the invitation." As Chubby and Jesse discuss where and when to eat tonight, Dodger comes over to my chair and squats down next to me, saying, "We've hardly seen you, and you're the only reason I'd ever come this far for a beach." I say, "Ya gotta admit the beach is far superior to the Cape beaches." He goes, "Most of them, yeah."
I reach over and get a fistful of the too long hairs on top of his head, asking, "Do you want me to cut this for you?" He shakes his head, "I love that, but I don't dare. Brownie would shit his pants. He wants the grunts in his unit looking alike, haircut-wise." I ask, "Brownie's that E-6 guy?"
Dodger nods his head, "Yeah, I'm in tight with him and I'm gonna keep it that way. He says I'm his right hand man and oh my, do I get away with a lot."
He glances around quickly, then lowers his voice, "After we eat tonight we're doing a three-way." To be a ball buster, I ask, "Oh, you, Vinnie, and Norman?" He laughs, "Nice try, but no. It's gonna be you, me, and Vinnie.
Maybe Norman will join in. That's up to him." Then he adds, "Vinnie's real excited about it." I glance at Vinnie, who looks about as excited as a cadaver.
Dodger looks so cool with his bright eyes full of life and mischief,; it makes me feel a little excited about a three-way. He stands, pats my shoulder, and says, "Oh yeah, one other thing: um, would you do the cooking tonight. We bought chicken wings, and what else Vinnie?" Vinnie says, "That's all," so Dodger says to me, "Oh, that's all we got so far. Maybe you and I could stop at that grocery store near your place." I ask, "Where's this cooking taking place? Is there a grill at your condo?" Dodger rubs his lips, then asks, "Is there a grill at our motel, Vinnie?" Vinnie rolls his eyes, then says to me, "Dodger's arranged for us to use your grill and eat, um, on your deck." I'm shaking my head chuckling. Dodger says, "Oh don't be like that. I asked your mom and she said, 'Sure'." I go, "It's settled then."
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
donnymumford@outlook.com
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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for next to nothing. The books are under ten dollars. They are about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.
Donny Mumford
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