DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION BACK HOME
Chapter 31
by Donny Mumford
Obviously I want to look good for Robby on our date tonight so I put some effort into it choosing casual clothes I feel are also kinda cool. After all I haven't been with him most of the summer so when I do see him I want to look my best. Checking myself out in the bathroom mirror for about the sixth time in the last half hour, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be. My hair looks like shit of course, but there's nothing to be done about that.
It's at an in between stage, six weeks since my last haircut but it's still pretty short, and now it's also scraggly and uneven as well. I can only comb the hairs on the top, front part of my head. Ryan's so-called specialty haircut presents me with the same problems a guy with a buzz cut has, which is: the hair will obviously grow out the same length all over, so for two to three months it looks awful. It's over the tops of my ears but not long enough to comb on top. Most guys with a buzz cut keep getting buzz cuts because it's a pain in the ass going through the growing-out period. I'm determined to persevere through the months of looking like a ragamuffin until my hair's long enough to train in a sensible hair style. And I'm definitely having serious second-thoughts about waiting a year or more until my hair's long enough for a stubby ponytail. That pipe dream has just about run its course as the reality of the situation is staring back at me from the mirror.
A final glance at my mirror reflection and I'm like, "Fuckin' hair!" and swat my comb through the front hairs. Then I hear the doorbell, oh boy, here we go! Walking quickly from my bathroom to the front door, then stop for a
second to calm myself down. I don't want to act like a geek, although I'm pretty stoked to see Robby. Then, with my best smile in place, I open the door and blink fast four or five times, stuttering, "Oh! Um, ah... Hi, Willie, "Um, what...?" Willie Worthington has his best smile in place too, and it's a damn good one. The one where the bridge of his nose wrinkles a little.
Huh, I've always thought he had awesomely white teeth and sexy lips. He looks great. The best I've ever seen him look actually.
My heart goes pitter patter and my dick goes on alert as a million memories of Willie and me as seventeen-year-old kids flows in a flash through my mind. He steps inside the open door, saying, "Dylan, I, um. Wow, you are so perfect!" He hugs me quickly, adding, "I was coming back from getting my haircut and it made me think of the time you gave me a haircut, remember?" I glance at his light brown hair for a second as my brain tries to catch-up with this totally unexpected development. All I can do is stare at him, completely taken by surprise. He sees me staring, so he grins that ridiculously cute grin of his, saying, "And, so I thought I'd say, hello." Chuckling now, he adds, "I can tell you're thrilled to see me," and when I squint my eyes he laughs that silly laugh of his, asking, "How are you? You can still talk, right?"
I don't think I've ever seen him look so cutely handsome. Some guys get dorkier-looking the older they get and some get better looking. Willie's definitely in the latter category, and now he has the trendy short whiskers 'look' going for him too. His big brown eyes shine with intelligence as I finally manage to say, "Hi Willie, yeah I can talk a little. Nice tan, and you look, um, really good yourself." He tentatively places a hand on each of my shoulders, grinning at me, asking, "May I?" My eyes get big as he's leaning in for a kiss that ends up with us hugging one another doing a ten second, really sloppy French kiss. It actually seemed much longer than ten seconds when we were doing it. My dick firms up and when I pull back, he says, "I'm sorry, but... um, I'm sorry I did that." He's an inch taller than me, his body as taut and slim as ever.
I gasp, "No, ha, it's alright. Um, you just surprised me. How are you?"
He quietly says, "You get better looking every time I see you. What are you doing with your hair though?" My fingers ruffle through my short hair, as he adds, "I always took you to classy hair stylists, but this is...." I shrug, "Um, no you didn't. Remember you took me to that barbershop near an Army base one time, and then that barbershop in Wellesley, I think it was... with the grumpy barber. Remember?" He makes a cute face, "Oh, yeah, you're right. Then in Key West I had you get a haircut like the guy in that gay club had.... Oh, never mind that though. Bad memories in Key West." I say, "Some good ones too." He nods his head, grinning and reaching over to try smoothing my hair. I push his hand away, saying, "Well, now I'm letting my hair grow out and it's in a transitional, um, state or phase." For some reason I'm holding his hand, the one I just pushed away. I'm remembering him teaching me so many things about gay sex, and how not to be self-conscious about showing affection in public. Things that made me extremely uncomfortable at the time, but things I do routinely now.
Willie glances down at my hand that's holding his, and I let go, asking, "Um, are you going with anyone now?" He grins his really cute grin again, saying, "Oh fuck, Dylan, I'm embarrassed to tell you this," and he actually blushes a little, saying, "I was going with this girl. Yeah, a girl named, Pammy Heart, from college. Fooling myself actually. It worked okay for a few months, but I'm gay at heart. So, no I'm not going with anyone now. Ha ha, I wasn't actually going with anyone when I was going with Pammy. How 'bout you?" I nod my head, "Yeah, Robby and I are in love." Willie makes a face, asking, "Still?" then he grins, and mutters something I say all the time, "Balls!" then, "I was afraid of that," and he rubs my shoulder, saying, "I'm happy for you though, really. Dickers is a lucky bastard, and not good enough for you, not nearly good enough." We're standing a foot inside the door, which is awkward, but I'm no stranger to awkwardness. I mumble, "He's plenty good enough for me."
I'm a little tongue tied from trying to understand my feelings for Willie, and from worrying that Robby will be here any second now. Willie says, "Well, you're probably on your way out somewhere, right? You look really nice, by the way." I shrug, "Oh, thanks," and hold my arms out like I modeling something, muttering, "Look! Most of what I have on you gave me." He frowns, taking notice, "Holy shit, you're still wearing that cross necklace, huh? It's cool though, just saying...." I hold it up, stupidly telling him, "It's a David Yurman necklace," as if he didn't know. He bought it for me. He nods, "Yeah, I know. It was the first present I ever gave you, I think.
Wasn't it?" I nod my head feeling strangely attracted to him. For something to say, I go, "Nice haircut, Willie. The guy did a good, you know, good styling job." Naturally it's one of the latest hair style fads; Willie follows the latest style in most things. Willie has awesome hair, but this particular
hair style I don't care for at all. I must admit though it looks better on him than anyone I've seen with it. The sides and back are cut very short, almost shaved, and the hair is left quite long on top. Willie's long light-brown top hairs are wavy in sort of a moussed pompadour. I've given a few haircuts like that for guys who asked for it. As a matter of fact, I cut Charlie's hair in a vague version of Willie's. Aside from his haircut though I can't get over how handsome he's become. Thinking back to that long string-bean of a kid with the longish head and the freckles across the bridge of his nose, it's hard to believe he's morphed into his present form. I can still see a few of the little freckles even now.
Grinning again, he asks, "Why are you staring at me, Dylan? Do I have a piece of spinach in my teeth or something?" I shake my head, "No, I'm admiring you. You're very handsome." He seems taken aback by that. "Dylan! Thank you! It always surprises me the way you come right out and say exactly what's on your mind. There's no filter from your mind to your mouth, so you say the damnedest things sometimes, things most guys wouldn't think of saying."
I go, "Oh, I didn't know that," although others have told me the same thing. Willie says, "Anyway, compared to you I look like the runt of the litter, so to speak." He picked that up from me; the 'so to speak' phrase. I'd like to feel my arms around his neck. Jesus! Where the fuck did that random thought come from? He does have a good neck though, ya know, for hugging.
Instead of doing that, I say, "Not just this necklace; you've always been extremely generous with gifts, Willie. I love all the stuff you've given me over the years." Holding up my arm, I'm like, "Remember this sport watch you bought me in Key West?" He says, "Oh yeah, it's cool," but I can tell he doesn't remember.
My cell phone rings and I take it out, muttering, "Excuse me," and see it's a text from Robby. 'Running late. Leaving now. Can't wait to kiss you.' Willy asks, "Dickers?" and I nod my head, "Yeah. Um, we're going out to dinner. I've been in Wildwood all week, and..." Willie interrupts saying, "Please, don't remind me of that place. You saved my life there." I have nothing to say to that, so he asks, "How many times have you saved my life?"
Frowning as if I'm thinking about it, I mutter, "I don't know." Then, without thinking, I just come out with, "Can we have dinner together some time?"
Then I blush, not believing I just suggested that. Willie looks startled too, "Nothing would make me happier. Well, ha ha, yeah if you were my lover I'd be happier, but I'm thrilled you want us to have a dinner date. Listen, I really need to run now, but I'll call you. This is wonderful, Dylan! Seeing you has been as special as it always is."
I'm nodding my head, my face feeling hot, then we're hugging again... his slim body has always felt good. I resist putting my arms around his neck though, and we only do a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll call you, Dylan," he stops, then says, "Just dinner, right? I couldn't survive another, you know, situation where I'm thinking I have a chance with you and then losing you again." I say, "Nah, we'll be best friends or something," and he does his beautiful smile, "Best friends it is! I'd really like that. Bye, Dylan," and he athletically skips down the steps. He's always been very light on his feet. He's a very good athlete too. Closing the door, I'm kind of reeling, not knowing what to make of my reaction at seeing him. Then I open the door quickly to see what his latest new car is, but he's gone.
I drop in a wing chair, literally shocked at my reaction to Willie's surprise visit. What the fuck? It was so unexpected, but I found myself happy to see him. Well, we've always been close friends, and even more than that at
times, although there were other times when I wouldn't talk to him or see him. Willie was my first real boyfriend though, and he's actually the most unique person I've ever known. He's totally his own person except for the times he's tried to change who he in an effort to please me. He's always thought he loved me too, although I'm not sure he knows what love is. I say he's his own person, but I should make that plural, persons. He's had a number of personalities, both sex-wise and otherwise. He's submissive, then dominant, then sex master, then the slave, you know. His frequent self image changes were him trying to find which one works best for him. He's kooky, putting it mildly, but I really like him. Maybe this latest Willie Worthington is finally the right one... for him, I mean. The right one for... him.
Enough about Willie though, I need to refocus on Robby. Going into the bathroom I wash my face with cold water, then try re-combing my hair for the tenth time, finally settling on simply combing the hairs in front over to the side. The other hairs stick up on top and the hairs over my ears remain shaggy, but Robby will understand. Then I grab the picture Mom had framed of Robby and me and stare at it feeing warmth in my heart. Robby and I both have flat top haircuts. Huh, must have been a couple of years ago. Yeah, good! Forget Willie, for now anyway. Maybe having dinner and being best friends with him will be nice. The kind of best friend I can call when I'm feeling down, or whatever. Of course I already have the best, best-friend the world has even known, and he happens to be my brother.
I'm back looking out the front window for Robby's pickup. He should be here by now, that's if he left when he said he would in the text. And there he is now parking his pickup truck at the curb down below. I'm smiling, watching him get out of the truck. Then I grin as he checks himself out in the truck's side view mirror. Ha ha, don't worry, you look awesome, Robby! I open the door and start down the steps to meet him. He has a little package in his hand. A birthday present for moi? He's looking up smiling, and his beautiful smile doesn't take a back seat to any I've ever seen. We meet at the landing halfway up the steps. I murmur, "Rob," and then we're in each other's arms. We hug, then do a sweet lover's ten-second kiss. Robby's too classy to do a French kiss 'hello' on these outdoor steps. We'd be on display for the neighborhood. He says, "Guess what, Dylan?" I go, "What?" and he says, "Swear to God, I missed you so much I couldn't eat or sleep right all week." I go, "Me too, Rob, and you look sexier than I remember." He laughs out loud, mumbling, "The things you say," and we start up the rest of the steps with him holding my hand. Chuckling, he tells me, "I've been practicing looking sexy for you all week." I go, "It's working too! And I think that cool blond, barely-visible sparse beard of yours is totally awesome." He laughs out loud again, then goes, "You're the only person on earth who could say that as cutely as you just did, and thanks for the compliment." Outside the front door, on the stoop, we hug again and do a longer kiss. Thoughts of anyone but Robby leave my head in flash... zoom! Robby is 'home' for me, and I know that's corny, but that's really how I feel. In his arms with our lips together, that's home no matter where we are.
We go inside where I put my arms around his neck, murmuring, "All kidding aside, Rob, I love you with all my heart and I feel so fucking cheap when I'm not faithful to you. There was this nice kid in Wildwood..." but he puts his hand on my mouth, "Shhh, baby, I don't care about the nice kid in Wildwood. I care about you, only you." Overly emotional again, feeling unworthy, I nod my head and drop a few tears. Robby wipes them away with the pad of his thumb, saying with a grin, "But I am glad to see you have a guilty conscience. Hope it haunts you for a while." I hug him tightly and we do a really sexy kiss with tongues and lips, and it gives me a really hard penis in my shorts. We break the kiss by sliding our lips across each other's cheek and resting the sides of our faces together, and breathing a few deep breaths, never letting go of one another. We've ended kisses like that hundreds of times. Taking a last deep breath, Robby runs his fingers up the hairs on the back of my head, murmuring, "Finally some hair on my boyfriend's head." I murmur, "It looks like shit now, but in another month or so..." He interrupts again, "It's looks fine right now."
After another tight hug, he pulls his head back, looking me in the eyes, "We'll be the Bobbsey Twins again, right?" I grin and run my fingers through his hair, which isn't especially long. It's slightly longer then it was when I gave him his last haircut. Robby hasn't had a haircut from anyone but me for over three years now. No wait, back in freshman year Ryan tried cutting Robby's hair once or twice, but that's the only exception. Currently Robby's hair is preppy looking with a part on the left side. I'd like to do something more stylish for him, but don't know what it would be. When we were younger all kinds of hair styles were in play, and we've had a lot of them, but we're older and that eliminates some of the earlier possibilities.
We kiss again, then I say, "How about a beer, Rob?" He goes, "Sure. How's it feel being twenty-one?" I shrug, jokingly saying, "Obviously I'm much more mature now, and I think I'm taller too, but that's about it." He says, "You're obviously taller, but that maturity thing. Are you sure about that?" I laugh, "Not hardly. That's your department."
We're happily looking at each other for a second, then Robby goes, "Happy Birthday, Dylan," and hands me the small package he'd put in his pocket when we started hugging each other. I go, "Oooh, thanks, Rob," and he says, "It's not much, but I wanted to get you something for your birthday." It's a ring size box and when I open it I find a cool looking stainless steel ring with engravings. On the outside, 'Dylan and Rob'. On the inside it says, 'You're the one true love of my life'. I look up at him and Robby says, "It's called a commitment ring. I got it on line, guessing at the ring size.
And it's not meant as a commitment by you, Dylan, not at all. It's my commitment to you. You're the only one in the world I'll ever love, the only one I'll ever be in love with. Just you." Damn, there go my eyes again as I hug him around the neck, the sides of our faces together again, murmuring, "I love the ring and the commitment." Huh, my second cry so early in our reunion. It's not actually crying though. Tears come to my eyes, but that's about it, and anyway I've admitted fifty times that I'm too fucking emotional.
We hug and kiss for a minute, then Robby smiles, murmuring, "I like wiping your tears away, babe, but only when they're good tears. I never want to see sad tears from you and I'll try my best to see you never have any." I stand still as he wipes the few tears that leaked out, then to be silly, I ask, "Aren't you going to get me to blow my nose too?" He chuckles, "Um, no, you can blow your own nose." I can't help the quick memory of Ryan wiping away my tears of rage after a too-hard spanking during sub/dom sex, then holding his handkerchief to my nose, saying, 'Blow hard for me." Jesus, embarrassing memory!! The ring only fits my little finger, so I put it on next to the friendship ring Robby gave me last birthday, asking him, "Does this look too gay? Two rings on one hand." He laughs, "Not to me it doesn't," and I ask, "How about that beer now?" Robby goes, "Yeah, okay." What happened is I brought a left-over six pack of Coors beer home from Wildwood. Now that I'm twenty-one I'll need to pay back all my IOUs to Tris, and keep beer in our condo's refrigerator. Mom never bought beer for herself and I never asked her to buy it for me. I wouldn't make her break the law even a little bit because that would make her uncomfortable. As I'm taking two Coors cans from the refrigerator Robby gets his arms around me from behind and kisses the side of my neck, murmuring, "Maybe we can have those beers later, babe. I need me some Dylan Newman and I can't wait for it any longer." I turn around in his arms, face to face, asking, 'What about our dinner reservation?" He kisses my lips real fast, mumbling, " We're good, it's not until nine o'clock.
That's the only reservation they had available." I go, "Nine o'clock works for me, boyfriend," and we walk hand in hand to my bedroom, as I tell him, "I got the hardest boner in my shorts when we did our lover's kiss. Jeez, it was so hard it ached." He goes, "Me too, Dylan," and we chuckle, bumping our sides together.
In my bedroom, taking my shirt off, I ask, "Are we going to get maudlin with our words of love, Rob?" Robby say, "Yeah, but probably that'll be later," and he hugs me with our bare chests rubbing together so sexily I could cream in my shorts right now. Nobody's body thrills me or feels better to me than Robby's. It's so familiar and fits my body like a glove. My right nip ring fits perfectly over his left nipple, for example, and when I lift up a little his nipple pulls up making him grin, then we kiss with his arms around my waist and mine around his neck hugging him for all I'm worth. Robby
can sexually excite me by just being near me. It's like I'd get hard sometimes sitting next to him in class. I can smell his sexy scent and glance over at the side of his face, and get a boner; knowing he loves me is icing on my cake. It's a fine thing being in love... a very fine thing.
My finger are in his hair at the back of his head, his face against mine as we kiss then rub our noses together licking each other's lips and tongue.
I can't put into words how good this feels. To be loved like Robby loves me makes me feel very special and increases my love for him. Willie is handsome like a magazine model, but Robby's more handsome in a natural, casual way... and I know that only makes sense to me. In my mind Robby's the best looking combination of handsome and boyishly cute ever. A picture of him should be in the Guinness Book of World Records as the cutest/handsomest young
man in the world. My fingers are in his hair again, my lips and tongue on his, my bare hairless chest rubbing his and it all creates a wildly hot sexual arousal in me. It swarms over my brain like a tsunami and makes my hard cock throb and the lips of my asshole twitch with anticipation. I'm over-sexed to start with, but with Robby I sense a swirling tornado of sexual desire.
Gasping for breaths, I murmur into his perfectly shaped ear, the left one with the duplicate of my little hoop earring in the earlobe, "Rob, let me suck your cock, please." He rubs his hands over my back, gasping with desire himself, then he holds my face between his hands kissing me here and there before stepping back and dropping his shorts to the floor. I drop to my knees pulling his underpants down and guide his already hard cock to my mouth. I'm almost trembling with sexual desire, and the desire to please and pleasure him is equally strong. I lick, then suck his cock into my mouth and tongue all around the head. Robby's breathing noisily rubbing my shoulders and gently humping his hips. Using my thumb and forefinger I stroke his boner while sucking on the head, my other hand fumbling my own hard cock out through the fly of my shorts, cursing myself for not dropping my shorts when Robby did.
Robby's erect penis, with its engorged head, has grown to about four and a half inches long, and it's a fat boy too. When I take his whole boner in my mouth the head reaches past the gag reflex area of my throat. With my own boner in my fist, I push my face forward until my nose is squished against his nice smelling belly as the head of his cock goes into my throat.
Bobbing on it I feel my own orgasm come roaring on me, so I bob faster with images of his cock getting extremely stimulated as it's popping in and out of my throat. It's only about forty-five seconds before Robby gets both hands behind my head holding my face flat against him as he humps his hips, fucking my throat. I'd squeal out loud if I could when my hips hump and cum comes gushing from my boner that's now sticking straight out from my body. Cum pumping out in a long stream, followed by three fast moving squirts. I'm about ready to faint from lack of oxygen when Robby groans and unloads his spunk down my throat, then he does three last humps against my face, then while noisily breathing and moaning at the aftereffects of his climax, he steps back pulling his sloppy cock from my throat and mouth leaving a trail of spunk on my tongue. "Oooh, fuuuuuck," from Robby as he sits on the edge of my bed stroking his slippery cock. I fall back, laying on the floor with my knees in the air breathing deeply and shuddering one last time as orgasm sensations buzz around my groin before doing their disappearing act. I spunked before Robby, and I was doing the blow job. Sucking cock can really get me hot.
Heavy breathing, then Robby mumbles, "That was gonna inevitably be a too-fast orgasm, babe, but now that we've gotten the sixty second climax out of our systems we can have long lover's sex after dinner." I'm nodding my head, still a little dizzy from holding my breath that long. For almost everyone, a minute is a long time to go without oxygen. Thirty to forty seconds is the normal amount of time the average person can hold their breath, and that's even a stretch for some. Sitting up with my arms behind, supporting me, I say, "Yeah, you make me crazy with desire, Rob. It's kind of embarrassing to almost cum in my pants making out with you. I feel like some horny fourteen-year-old, but you're simply too sexy hot." He chuckles, "Yeah? Well, Dylan, you can multiply your arousal by at least a factor of two to match how aroused you make me. Last week, and this is something I wouldn't tell anyone else in the world, but thinking about you this past week I jerked-off like the horny fourteen-year-old you mentioned. Jerked myself off more times than I care to admit. You can't leave me alone anymore, babe, and that's all there is to it." I smile, "That's so sweet, Robby. So, does this mean
you're coming to Wildwood with me next year?" He stands up, saying, "Yep! No more 'this nice kid in Wildwood' for you I'm afraid." Shrugging, I go, "I just wanted to be honest with you."
Robby holds his hands down for me to take, pulling myself up. We walk in the bathroom as Robby says, "I think I'd rather you weren't so honest, Dylan. Let me fantasize that you're almost done with side-sex, you know, until you actually are." I mutter, "You're the boss, Rob, and I'll do as you say."
He chuckles, "The boss, ha ha." We use a washcloth wiping our limp dicks, then I clean the cum off the throw rug 'cause neatness counts. As I'm doing that I wonder about Robby telling me he jerked off thinking about me. Am I to take from that the inference he didn't even one time get together with his past side-sex buddies in Framingham? I know they exist because I've actually met a couple of them. Surprising myself, I chose to believe Robby was
sexually abstinence last week, and ain't that something! He sure climaxed fast a few minutes ago, but then so did I and I wasn't especially sexually abstinence last week. As sexual a person as Robby is, and it's a toss up who's more sexual him or me, could he actually go a week without sex? I mean, considering how often we've been having sex together could he just stop cold-turkey for a week? I suppose a person with Herculean willpower could barely make it through eight days without sex, but it's hard to imagine doing that myself. In that regard, I'm following his rule about not discussing any extra curricular sexual activities until I'm totally done with buddy side-sex. That could happen any day now... or not.
When we've put ourselves back together we go down the steps grinning and making fun of each other for climaxing in less than a minute. "Amateurs, that's what we are, Rob, a couple of sexual amateurs." He goes, "I prefer the comparison to the fourteen-year-old you referenced earlier." At the pickup, I say, "Wouldn't that be cool? Being fourteen again and knowing what we know now." He says, "Yeah, then you and me would be searching through the halls of middle school looking for each other." Getting into Robby's pickup truck, I go, "Yeah, and when we found each other we'd be horny as hell, heading for the nearest toilet stall." Robby goes, "Probably creaming in our jeans with anticipation before we got there." We're laughing about that ridiculousness. I feel so happy being with Robby again. It's so comfortable being with him, and I love him so much I need to lean over and kiss his cheek.
He smiles at me, "I missed how you love me, Dylan. It's so special to me.
Seriously, I was moody all week. You can ask Seth on Monday if you don't believe me." Oh, that's right... another two weeks of work before heading back to college.
During the drive to Dino's Italian Cuisine restaurant I argue that we should split the dinner check and Robby reluctantly agrees. He used to be a lot cheaper, money-wise, than he's been lately. Then my super conscientious boyfriend insists I verify I've taken care of all my paperwork and student loans, books and everything else for junior year. I assure him I did, telling him Chubby and I were just talking about that, and it's all good. He goes, "Tomorrow you and I need to drive to North Andover and sign papers for the apartment this year. Jeff's going in with us again, right?" I say, "I'm almost positive he is, but I'll get a definite answer at brunch tomorrow morning." Jeez, now I remember Chubby mentioned some time ago he's thinking he might save some money by sharing a dorm room with John Beverly this year.
He's curious what the college experience is like living on campus. He hasn't mentioned it since then, but he's going out with John Beverly and some guys tonight so maybe that's when they'll make a decision about housing. Huh, obviously I hope he shares the apartment with us again this year.
Robby notices I'm being quiet, and asks, "Anything wrong, Dylan?" and I go, "Not really. I just remembered Chub said something about him maybe trying dorm life this year to see what living on campus is like. That's not at all definite though." Robby's surprised, "Really?" I nod, "Yeah, but you're coming to brunch tomorrow morning I hope." He goes, "Sure, thanks for inviting me," and I go, "We'll talk with Chubby then," then add as an after thought, "You have a standing invitation for brunch every Sunday. I already told you that about ten times." He looks at me, "And you have a standing invitation for Saturday night dinners at my house. Don't forget that." Oh balls! I was hoping he'd forget that. He glances over again, asking a tad sternly, "Right, Dylan?" Ooou, I got a shiver of submissiveness for a split second there. Damn, I love when Robby puts a touch of authority in his voice.
Grinning to myself, I humbly mumble, "Yes, Rob." Heh heh, love to act submissive to Robby, although he usually doesn't get it.
He parks at the curb two blocks away from the restaurant because their small parking lot is always full. We get out and Robby wraps his arms around me for a hug, then takes my hand and we walk two blocks back to the restaurant. There are stores on both sides of the street since we're in a part of downtown Framingham. People are walking on the sidewalk, but no one comments about us holding hands. No one comments about the young man and woman holding hands either. I have mixed emotions about holding hands in certain situations. First off I love holding hands with a guy, don't get me wrong, it's very sexy; but, at times it seems maybe too much of a in your face kind of thing. I have trouble deciding when those 'times' are though. And anyway, I usually let Robby decide and just go with that. Right here in downtown Framingham though, if I was deciding, I'd probably not hold hands feeling we were flaunting our gayness unnecessarily. It's a tough call though.
Certainly there'd be no decision to make at all if it was, say twenty years ago.
We probably wouldn't think of doing it then! Fortunately times change, sometimes they even change for the better.
Inside the restaurant it's, of course, busy on a Saturday night so we wait for the two groups in front of us to be seated. When it's our turn they have Robby's reservation and the table's ready for us, so good for them. It doesn't always happen like that unfortunately. We're at a table for two against the wall, with menus provided by the greeter. The table has a low candle burning, the restaurant's lights are low with music playing in the background, and there's just the right amount of conversations all around us melding together. In other words, a cool atmosphere. I hate when it's so quiet you don't feel comfortable talking. And Dino's isn't the red and white checkered tablecloth type Italian restaurant, and the candle isn't in a wine bottle with string around it. This is the white linen tablecloth with shiny silverware type Italian restaurant. It's kind of ritzy in an un-ritzy town.
Ritzy as far as I'm concerned anyway, although it would not be ritzy in Willie's world. Just right for Robby and me though.
Our favorite waiter, um, server, Tony, comes over with his little head bow and his sexy little smirk, as he politely says, "Ahh, I haven't seen just the two of you in here for quite some time. Nice to serve you again. Could I get you something to drink before dinner?" I look at Robby, who shrugs, "What do you feel like, "Dylan?" I say, "Hmmm, how about," and I almost say strawberry daiquiri, but I catch myself, and instead say, "A whiskey sour." Robby goes, "Make that two," and Tony goes, "Can we do the ID charade now, guys?" meaning we show him something from our wallets, like he's carding us. Straight faced, I hand him my license and he glances at it, then looks again and smiles, "Belated happy birthday, Dylan Newman." I just grin at him taking my license back. That rocked! Robby hands Tony his license and Tony hands it back, saying, "An early happy birthday to you too, Robert. Two whiskey sours coming up." I go, "Um, Tony, before you go, would it seem pretentious of me to ask for the wine list?" He grins, "Not at all," and walks away looking too cool for school. Waiters can be very cool, or very grumpy. I've had both. Tony, in his semi-tuxedo uniform, makes it seem like being a waiter is a cool profession. A chef seems like a cool profession too; from what I've seen on television anyway.
Waiting for our drinks, Robby says, "I hope your brother joins us in the apartment again this year, but if he doesn't we'll only need a one bedroom apartment. Maybe we should look at those new apartments a couple of miles down route 114." I say, "I went on line to check on those apartments and they're more expensive, plus it's more like six miles from campus. At Royal Crest we can easily walk to the campus if we need to." He shrugs as our drinks arrive. Tony says, "Your wine list, signore," and he lays the faux leather bound wine list next to me. I go, "Grazie," and he grins, mumbling, "You are such a hot shit," then, "I'll be back to take your orders in a couple of minutes." Robby looks at Tony as he walks away, then at me, "I think he has the hots for you, Dylan." I'm like shocked, "Really? Are you kidding?"
He goes, "The way he looks at you, always grinning or smirking." I say, "He doesn't have the hots for me. He's being a waiter, buttering up the diners for tips. Anyway he's not gay!" Robby mutters, "If you say so," then he holds up his drink and I clink it with mine as he goes, "To my hot boyfriend's twenty-first birthday," and we sip the whiskey sour, then both make a face, as I mutter, "Tart."
Robby says, "Okay, so you don't want to try the new apartments." I shrug, "If you want to, we'll check them out. You're in charge you know." He slowly shakes his head, but doesn't respond to that. Holding my hand up, the one with Robby's commitment ring on my little finger, I go, "I love this ring, Rob, and I'm getting you one for your birthday. My commitment to you." He smiles, looking concerned, "No, that's not necessary, babe. You, um, well you really don't need to do that." I think he's inferring I can't make a commitment like he did, so I think my feelings are hurt. Being a wise ass, I say, "Alright then, how about I buy you a rain hat for your birthday?" We both laugh, then I roll the ring around my finger, murmuring, "Anyway, I love my ring, thank you again, Rob." He says, "You're welcome, and I've been meaning to ask you something: um, when exactly did you start calling me 'Rob' instead of 'Robby'?" I shrug, "I don't know exactly. Sometimes I call you 'Robby'." He says, "Not too often though, but I like 'Rob', that's fine.
Just saying..." Drinking a mouthful of the whiskey sour, I go, "You're so together about everything, and I admire you so much, it's like 'Rob' sounds more mature obviously, and fits the way I see you. You're my leader, dude.
You're damn lucky I don't start calling you, 'Mr. Rob." He laughs, "The things you say never cease to surprise me."
He says that, but he knows there's some truth to what I said, and I know there is too. A fifteen or sixteen-year-old busboy interrupts us setting a basket of rolls on the table, saying nothing. He's cute because he's young, but he has a large nose, one that won't be getting any smaller the older he gets. We check the menu and finish our drinks before Tony returns for our order. I ask, "Do you want another drink, Rob?" and he says, "I'd like one, but let's not because I want to be totally alert in bed with you tonight." I'm excited, "Are you staying with me tonight?" He goes, "No, I can't stay over tonight, but I'll stay a few hours. I can't wait for school to start so we're living together again. If Jeff doesn't share the apartment with us it'll be like we're married, or almost like it." He seems excited about that and I am too, but maybe not quite to the same degree as Robbie. Feeling guilty I had that thought, I reach over and squeeze his hand, staring at him a second or two. He's so good looking. I murmur, "I love you, Robby,"
then sense someone's next to me. It's our waiter of course. He says, as if he heard nothing, "Have you decided what you'd like?" We have, and give him our orders as my face burns a bright red.
As Tony leaves, Robby chuckles, "Tony heard you say you love me. He lifted his eyebrows and gave me a little grin when I gave him my order, and you looked so cute blushing like that. I almost came over there to give you a hug." Frowning, I mutter, "I blush too easily. Sometimes I feel like I've never grown up at all, ya know?" Robby says, "Well I know one thing, you don't look a day older than the first time I saw you, and fell in love with you on the spot." He's avoided the question of me growing up, but I have grown up a lot if you ask me. To Robby's comments, I say, "That's not true. The part about me looking the same, but I like the thought of you having a crush on me. Just wish I knew about it back then." He goes, "Oh fuck, I was so shy I'd have peed my pants if you said hello to me." I go, "You're not shy now though, so I gotta hand it to you for getting over that." He tells me he consciously worked at getting over it and then started in earnest when we became boyfriends and I kept asking him to be more assertively in-charge.
Jesus, that goes back three years now and Robby being in-charge wasn't even noticeable until freshman year, although he kinda messed that up a little too. The point is he's trying and doing better and better with his confidence until now I think he's almost perfect with it. As I've thought to myself any number of times, Robby's position as the boss at work has done wonders for his confidence.
We enjoy a very good Italian meal with homemade pasta and delicious tomato sauce, or as they call it, gravy. We had veal parmesan with the pasta and a salad with Italian dressing. Honoring Robby's wishes not to get too smashed at dinner I only ordered us a glass each of the most expensive Chianti Classico on the wine list: $17 a glass. It tastes very much like a Chianti Tris brought with her to one of Chubby's and my Sunday dinners. The whole bottle cost her $12, but then we're obviously not wine connoisseurs. During dinner Robby and I talk about us, and college, and the study group Robby want to start right from the first week. We discuss if we should do the weight lifting program again which Robby's doesn't appear very big on, probably because Ryan's in charge of that, although his name never comes up. Then we talk about: what if it is just Robby and me in an apartment this year, and t he extra cost. We both reject even considering a dormitory. We list things we need to bring to the apartment, and we both get kind of excited talking
about living together again. Plus, Robby is soooo ready to take a break from work, and I am too actually, which makes us chuckle because we're a mere two years away from working year-round, and for the rest of our lives. Ha ha! That's not really all that funny actually.
I almost mention my latest idea about going to barber college after Merrimack, but don't. There's no big universities around here and I'd want the barbershop near one. Robby's working for his father's company after graduation and that's not going to change, so marrying Robby means we'll be living here. Which probably also means no barbershop for me. Then Robby get very excited talking about next spring's huge project for their company, and the fact his condo has already been earmarked on the blueprints. It seemed so far in the future when I first heard him talking about the big project, and now it's only eight or nine months away from 'breaking ground': that's Robby's term for the start of the project.
We have coffee and Italian cookies for dessert, then split the bill by giving Tony both our debit cards. We discuss leaving our customary twenty-five percent tip for Tony, with Robby saying, "I don't think we still need to leave this much tip now that you're twenty-one." I just stare at him a couple of seconds, and he goes, "Oh, alright, Mr. John D. Rockefeller, we'll do it your way." On the way out, I ask, "This will sound dumb, but are the Rockefeller people billionaires, I mean still?" Robby shrugs, "Who knows? I forget how they got rich in the first place." I go, "Yeah, I had that question on a test in seventh grade and got the answer right, but forgot what it was before lunch." Robby mumbles, "Was it steel, or maybe railroads?"
Driving back to my place, I go, "We should have had one more drink; maybe an after dinner drink. If I'm not gonna get a buzz-on from the booze I'd just as soon drink a soda or iced tea, ya know?" Robby nods his head, "Yeah, taste-wise I couldn't agree more. I got a little buzz going for me though, don't you?" I shrug, "A little, I guess." After drinking to excess most of last week, this was like nothing. I get Robby to park around back at my place and we go in through the basement. Robby runs his fingers through his hair, saying, "This finished basement always makes me think of haircuts. Do you think I need one?" I go, "Nah, maybe a week from now. Ya know, I was thinking you need a new, more, um, stylish haircut, but I don't know what exactly." He goes, "No, I like this style. My dad likes it on me too; he says it's professional looking and he's hard to please." I shrug, disagreeing but keep it to myself and we go up the steps with Robby saying, "Hey, we never had that beer from earlier, and you want another drink, so how about we have a beer with a cigarette on the balcony?" I go, "Awesome!" and that's what we do.
On the balcony we stand at the railing with Robby's arm around my waist.
He says, "Everything seems fun when I do it with you, Dylan. Just drinking a beer on the balcony with you seems cool." I say, "You're the one who makes everything shine, Rob. I don't shine if you don't shine." He goes, "That's from a 'Killers' song," and I'm like, "So what, it's true with you." He laughs, then kisses the side of my face, murmuring, "Don't ever change, Dylan, seriously! You're perfect just like you are." Fuck, my eyes try doing their leaking routine again, but I swallow hard and stop it. Hot shit! I found out how to control that. I tell Robby, "I choke-up when you say things like that to me." He looks at me, "Truth is I can't articulate the depths of my love for you. If I could you'd probably run away so fast your heels would be hitting your ass. You'd think me crazy or retarded." Avoiding a stretch of maudlin compliments, I go, "I'm telling the political correctness police you used the 'R' word. You'll probably get a few weeks of sensitivity training for that." He chuckles, "I know I make you a little uncomfortable when I talk about how much I love you, but I only do it so you'll have a massive guilty conscience if you ever dump me. I want you to suffer with guilt knowing my broken heart will never fucking heal." I say, "It's cool when you get dramatic, Rob, but I'm gonna have to call a bullshit alert on you. You know very well I don't have a conscience." He laughs hugging me around the back of my neck, mumbling, "I know, but yet I still love you." We're mostly
joking around, but parts of it we really mean.
Sitting on the chaise lounge now, having a smoke and finishing our beers, I ask, "How come you haven't asked me about my week in Wildwood?" He goes, "Because you'd tell me if I asked you, and I don't want to hear about it.
How much did I ask you about Georgia?" I go, "Next to zero," and I smell the back of my wrist trying to decide if there's an innuendo of some sort in Robby's reply. You know, like he's implying I've been fucking every guy who walks by and he's afraid I'd tell him about it. Of all the nerve; I mean the part about me telling him about it, I'd never do that. Why would I? In a weak moment when first seeing him earlier I started to generalize about Charlie, but Robby cut me off, which was the right thing to do. That I even started to say a little about it might have had something to do with Willie's visit just before Robby got here. My reaction to Willie was unexpected.
Maybe because he was so unexpected.
Robby asks, "What are you thinking about, babe?" I snuggle against him, "Nothing important. Can we maybe get in bed now and see what happens?" He goes, "Yeah, you read my mind again." Getting up together I have an urge to just hug Robby, so I do and he hugs back, murmuring, "I feel the same way, Dylan. I want to hug you against me all the time," He's right, that's what I'd like to do, hug him for twenty-four hours straight. We do a sweet kiss, then grin at each other before walking inside, then right down the short hall to my bedroom. We undress in silence and when naked hug again with our hands rubbing each other's back and ass. His hands feel so good on me and he smells sexy, like he always does. He gives me a kiss on my mouth that I respond to and we're soon sprouting boners again. Robby, with his arm around the back of my neck finally leads me to my bed. Taking his arm away, he says, "Turn out the light and I'll pull the cover down," and after we do that we lay on the bed in the dark with moon beams making shadows and giving us enough light to make each other out. Smiling at him, I climb on top of his body, grinning now and humping gently against his crotch, our boners sliding together.
Laying on Robby, rubbing noses with him, I say, "Your pubes grew back,"
and he goes, "Yeah, the baseball team's fall practice starts a month from now. Can't have shaved pubes for that, but I'm glad you can," and he gets his hand between us rubbing his fingers all around my groin, murmuring, "Nice and smooth." I kiss his lips, quietly saying, "Just for you, Rob. I do it all for you." He gets his arms around the back of my neck again and we do a long kiss. My body feels so loose, it's the same as I thought earlier, Robby and I fit perfectly together. We don't say anything as we make-out gently; the only sounds in the room are the subtle wet mouths sounds of sucking lips and tongues licking. Oh man, it's so deliciously sexy sharing our mouths until we're not even sure who's tongue belongs to who. It gets both of us squirming against one another with little moans of sexual desire joining those subtle sounds of us kissing, sucking, and licking each other's mouth.
It's gets to a point where we're licking around our mouths, so aroused sex has to happen.
Robby's moving under me, one of my knees on either side of him. He spreads his legs while reaching down to push the head of his boner against my asshole. I'm gasping at the precum coming from my cock feeling like tiny orgasms. Getting up on my knees and leaning back, the head of Robby's hard cock stabs in past my sphincter and we both moan, "Ooooh, ummm." I sit back on it some more and it tightly slides inside me an inch or so with sensations from nerve endings on the lips of my anus and my prostate gland sizzling awesomely as I try tightening an already stretched anus. I go, "Oh, Robby, your
cock feels good inside me," then drop my ass the rest of the way, sitting on his spread thighs. Oh fuck that feels better than good! Robby reaches up and gets my arm, pulling me back down onto his chest as he lifts his hips.
With me in this position, when he humps his hips only about two inches of his boner thrusts inside my ass, but it's right on my prostate gland and the angle of his boner has my anus really stretched down. I go, "Oooh, God,"
and Robby starts a steady thrusting of the top two inches of his fat boner stimulating nerve endings around my asshole and sliding over my super sensitive prostate. There's subtle sounds of his crotch hitting my buttocks, but he can't slap into me hard enough to cause the normal sounds of males fucking up the ass.
This is a hot way to fuck though because our faces are together and he has his arms wrapped around me and we're chest to chest, so lots of sexy bodily contact. Robby makes a gasping grunt with every thrust of his humping hips causing a steady bombardment of sexy sensations sizzling from my rectum; they're constant and have me doing my quiet moans of sexual pleasure while rubbing my face against Robby's. We last longer than the minute we lasted earlier, but not as long as either of us would have liked; not by a long shot. It's not even three minutes of deep, almost hypnotizing sexual pleasure and I'm already making whining sounds leading up to my squeal at climax.
Robby's now recklessly hammering his cock in my ass and I feel his body tighten up as mine's doing the same, and with my eyes squeezed shut I hump my hips squealing at the stream of cum pouring out the head of my stone-hard boner. Robby shoots a long string of cum up my ass, but we're both jerking around so much with my next shot of cum Robby's cock slips out of my slippery ass and he shoots too squirts of cum on my right butt cheek. We're still rocking around on each other groaning and gasping with me reaching between us to stroke my cock, then squeeze it getting drool of cum on my fist.
There's perspiration between our bodes as Robby slides me off his body so he can stroke his cock a few times, then we sigh as I go up on my side to lay half on Robby and run my fingers through his hair, quietly telling him, "Robby, nobody gives me pleasure like you do. No one, I swear to God." I hug his head and kiss his sweaty forehead, "That felt so fucking good, Robby." He's still taking deep breaths because he expended a lot of energy with that sex. It's like he was almost doing a sit-up with ever hump of his hips...
stomach crunches. After one last deep breath he's rubbing the palm of his hand down the side of my face, murmuring, "I pray you really mean that, Dylan. It would make me feel so good if I was giving you the best sexual pleasure ever." I snuggle in tighter with him, "You do, Robby, and I'm going to worship your body to show you how much I love you." He nods his head and grins a little, "That sounds nice, baby, but let's rest a while first. Pull the covers up, would ya?"
I reach down and pull the covers up, liking that he didn't think twice about telling me to do that. That's the kind of thing I mean when I say he's got the in-charge thing pretty much down pat. We snuggle together with Robby chuckling, "You shot a nice load of cum on me, a streak of creamy cum from my stomach to my neck." I go, "Oh, so that what's wet under me, huh?" He laughs quietly, asking, 'What'd you think it was?" I go, "I guess I could have peed myself, and you should talk. Your creamy load is drooling out of my ass as we speak, and you splattered your second shot on my ass cheek." He murmurs, "Yeah, I know, it was two shots actually. If I had a longer penis it would have stayed up your ass." I say, "Your penis and my ass are perfect partners. You've got all the penis my ass requires, and I'm serious about that too. Sex with you is the best I've ever had, every time." He smiles and rubs my head, muttering, "Okay, I'll pretend I believe you."
We lay together quietly, gently running our fingers over each other and leaning in for a kiss once in a while. Laying with him like this is more pleasant than anything I can think of. Knowing how much he loves me, and loving him back, it's like I wish there were something even more intimate than sex that we could do together. Robby's eyes are closed and when I hear his even breathing I assume he's dozed off. I know he was up early for work today. His father works the hell out of Robby. Seizing the opportunity, and with the help from the moonlight, I study Robby's amazing face, lazily running my fingers through his hair thinking my hair will be this long in six or seven weeks. One of my legs is between his and I rest the side of my face on his shoulder now, half my chest on his. I think about us being married with Robby as my man, but not in a silly way. I know without a doubt I'll always be able to count on him, and that he'll be conscientious about everything that's important, and he'll love me like crazy and we'll have lots of sex. Mostly I know we'll be happy and contented laughing and loving our way through life together while handling things that need handling. That's what I mean about Robby being my man. I'll me his man too, it'll be like that.
I doze off too and wake up when Robby tries turning over with me half on top him. I go, "Rob, are you awake?" He stretches his arms out like you do when you first wake up, with him asking, "What time is it, babe?" I check my watch, "It's only one-thirty," and I see him grin and put his hands behind his head, saying, "Didn't you say something earlier about worshipping my body to show me how much you love me?" I nod, "Uh huh, I love doing it too.
I could eat you with a spoon. You're my man!" He nods, "Yeah, I like being your man." Up on my knees I push the covers back, then straddle him, a knee on either side, sitting on his belly. Dropping down onto my forearms, I suck on his nipples, one at a time. I don't know why, but it's always pleasantly surprising, for just an instant, closely inhaling Robby's scent. I shouldn't be surprised because it's always the same and it's as familiar to me as the back of my hand, but for just that first millisecond the scent of his skin is like, wow! When his nipples are standing up hard, and he's sort of shimmying his shoulders at the sensations from his sensitive nipples, I begin doing little licks between his pecs and down the middle of his stomach. Robby not only smells good, he tastes good too.
After filling his innie belly button with warm saliva I lick down his belly into his pubic hairs and then the top of his fat cock, stopping to give him a 'look' as I pull a pubic hair off my tongue. He shrugs and grins back at me, and I have to grin too while putting my finger to my lips, like "Shh". I'm feeling a minor submissive trance going talking would evaporate it...
poof! Picking up his dick I lick the head like an ice cream cone and getting an initial acrid taste of shit from being up my ass an hour or so ago, but it quickly fades. Each lick starts at the neck under the head of his cock, then over the head past his piss slit, and down to the foreskin on the other side. Every lick is slower than the one before it, and it's got Robby moving his ass on the bed, and then with a grunt his knees come up. The head of his cock goes in my mouth while I stroke the short shaft inching it slowly into my mouth as well. When it's a fat hard boner I take it out and push it up against his belly and lick his scrotum moving his balls around, then when licking under his nuts as a drool of precum bubbles at the pee slit and I lick it off.
Robby's already got his knees up so I put a hand on each one pushing them back towards Robby which lifts his ass up off the mattress. Taking my time, I lick across his clean asshole. He told me once how he cleans his asshole. First with toilet paper obviously, and then with disinfected Cottonelle Handi Wipes when at home or in our college apartment, and he's pushes the wipe inside a little too. Clean boy, my boyfriend. He does it for me even though he doesn't always clean his cock after fucking me with it. Tonight, for example, we cuddled and then fell asleep after our sex. He never had a chance to clean it the way we did after the earlier oral sex. So, ya know, nothing's perfect. I wouldn't even consider rimming another guy's ass the first few years of being sexually active, but once I did it the submissiveness of the act appealed to me and it's one of my favorite things to do now.
Especially for Robby. And, yeah, he likes it quite a bit too, although I can't think of a time when he's returned the favor.
Licking across his asshole eight or nine times, leaving it saturated with saliva and quivering, I kiss his butt cheeks to show him I'm perfectly willing to kiss his ass, and then back to his anus, aka, his asshole. More quick licks before getting the tip of my tongue inside his hole and I'm able to push it in a little. Robby lifts his butt off the bed, "Nah, no, Dylan, come up here now." One final tongue stab up his asshole and he gasps and moves his ass away from my head. See, he was afraid of climaxing. That would have been another too quick orgasm, but I slide up the mattress to get on my side with my back to him. Robby goes up on his side and his hard cock head is at my asshole immediately. He humps it right inside as I gasp with pleasure along with a twinge of pain. His arm comes over my side to hold me in place, then he humps hard pushing his cock all the way in and begins hard thrusting right away. The familiar, 'Slap, slap, slap," sounds of his crotch slamming my buttocks startup right away, echoing off the walls. The bedroom door's closed, but Mom's not home this early on a Saturday night anyway.
If she was home she'd need to be right outside my bedroom to hear Robby's body slapping off my ass cheeks, and she'd never be right outside my bedroom in the first place. It's at the end of the hall with my bathroom and her's in between our bedrooms.
"Slap, slap, slap," as sensations grow and my prostate's sizzling like earlier, only this time Robby's got his full four and a half inches expanding my rectum walls and it feels so good I'm sucking on my lips moaning, "Mmm,"
with each thrust. I sprung a boner a minute after Robby's cock was in my mouth, and then it got brittle-hard and throbbing sexily as I was rimming his ass. Now it's throbbing in a way indicating on-coming climax as my nuts are churning cum getting ready to blow. Our bodies are both squirming and moving, slippery with perspiration and overwhelmed with the sensations of our building orgasms. He makes kind of a desperate squeak as he gets tight against my buttocks humping against them frantically, then a wheezy long exhale and I feel his load shoot wetly up inside me. Feeling his cum up my ass always make me climax, and with a short squeal, and all the muscles in my body clenched, out shoots a short string of cum that make me shake all over.
Small cum shot maybe, but a powerful sensation, then an even shorter streak of cum getting my shoulders shuddering, one against the mattress and the other in the air bouncing off the front of Robby's shoulder.
Robby gasps again, thrusting his cock in my slippery ass a few more times then he flops over on his back breathing hard. I lay forward onto my stomach smearing my small orgasm on my chest and the sheet. Robby's cum drools out of my ass running down to the back of my scrotum and pools there for now.
We both do our heavy breathing, savoring our climaxes for a minute or so, then I go up on my side and elbow looking down at Robby. He goes, "Hi, babe. Ya know, I wanted to do a slow lover's fuck, but you got me too aroused and I fucked your ass in more of a wild recreational way than a slow lover's
fuck." I grin, saying, "You're such a romantic, Rob, and I'm glad you're finally attempting to get the names of our various sex acts straight, although you've misnamed this one. This particular sex act is called the L & OOC,
or half and half fuck. It began as a lover's sex when I was worshiping your body, and then the other half turned into an out-of-control, pleasure yourself fuck. Did you pleasure yourself?" He nods his head, smirking, "Yes, I did, it was fabulous. Oh, how 'bout you?" I go, "Never mind about me 'cause I'm only here to pleasure you." He goes, "Well you're doing a very good job of it."
I lay against him and he puts his arm over my back, asking, "How'd you like our first date after your vacation?" I sigh, "It was good. I mean a three orgasm date is always a good thing, but I was hoping to sleep with you tonight and have what's called a A.M. fuck." Robby nods his head, "Is that the name for morning fuck?" I go, "Uh huh, you pick things up quickly I see.
Add in a morning fuck and this would qualify as a four orgasm date. See how that works?" He goes, "It's a lot to remember, but I believe a date continues as long as we stay continuously in each other's company, right?" I go, "That was date lesson 101, I should hope you'd remember that." He says, "I'll take your pamphlet home with me and study it some more, but for now can you set an alarm for five o'clock? I'll stay until five." I go, "Goodie," and set the alarm, then we use the bathroom to piss, wash up, and share my electric toothbrush. Back in bed Robby gets his arms around me and we rustle around a little getting snugly comfortable, then a mutual sigh of contentment followed by a kiss, and we go to sleep. I love seeping with him!
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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