DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME
Chapter 9
By Donny Mumford
Without much enthusiasm, I answer my cellphone, "Hey Frankie, wassup?" He goes, "That free haircut you offered to me. Um, that's if you're still willing to tackle my mop of hair?" I'm not really feeling it, but I go, "Yeah, sure. I'm curious though, aren't you the least bit concerned about my barbering skills?" He forces out a nervous chuckle, "No, not really. A buzz cut is kinda hard to screw up. It's just, you know, I hate the thought of paying twenty dollars for a five minute haircut." I mumble, "Yeah, I don't blame you." My ass is dragging though. I only had five hours sleep last night and working on the grass cutting crew was harder than I remembered, but I promised so I try sounding friendly, "So, you need a ride over here, right?"
He goes, "Embarrassingly, yes. I don't have any mode of transportation. My ten-speed bike is even out of commission." Man, a bicycle! I feel bad for him as I go, "I'm almost positive I can pick you up in a few minutes, but let me check with my boyfriend first and see if he's made any plans for us."
Frankie says, "You're awesome to do this, Dylan, um, thanks, man." I mumble, "Sure. If you don't hear from me I'll be there in fifteen or twenty minutes," and I hit the 'end' key on my iPhone. Damn! I could go for a nice two hour nap right about now. Normally I'd be looking forward to buzzing a head of hair like Frankie's but that prick, Matt Singleton, worked my ass off today.
Sighing, I punch the quick dial for Robby and he answers right away, "Yo, Dylan! How was your first day back on the job? I hardly got a chance to talk to you all day." I'm like, "Good, it was all good, Rob." Then, with a bit of apprehension in his voice, he asks, "Matt wasn't too hard on you?" I say, "Um, not especially, although he certainly wants things done his way."
Robby's enthused, "Yeah, he awesome like that! Did he tell you about the test at the end of the week? He's an excellent trainer and he'll probably be a supervisor next year." I go, "Huh, a supervisor. The test, yes he mentioned that." Robby says, "I suggested a supervisory position next year for your brother, but he wasn't interested. He said he wouldn't want to put in the extra time for meetings and things like that." I mumble, "Oh yeah? That surprises me."
Robby's in a upbeat frame of mind, saying, "Jeff's been a super assistant for me though. Don't know what I'd do without him." I say, "Um, about you and me. How do things look for you and me tonight?" He goes, "I'm sorry to say tonight and tomorrow night I've got to work. Dad and I are touring the fifty acre property for the big spring project. We've been there a number of times already of course, but this time we need to estimate the amount of earth moving equipment we'll need to rent. Ya gotta reserve heavy equipment rentals way in advance." I roll my eyes, mumbling, "Is that right?" and he goes, "Yep, but then that's it for meetings the rest of the week." I say, "Okay, boss, that's good to know. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Robby laughs "Wait a minute! Aren't you going to give me a hard time about not seeing you tonight?" I go, "No, I'm way too mature to do that. I know you need to work and I respect you for it. And, ha ha, my ass is dragging some." He says, "Yeah, tell me about it. I'm taking No-Doz and getting some caffeine working for me. See you tomorrow."
Okay, let me check myself to see if I actually am okay about not seeing him tonight. Huh, it's true; I'm not pissed-off. Good for me! Puffing my cheeks out, exhaling a deep breath, I gotta call Frankie. Suck it up Dylan! You'll be napping within the hour. Before the first ring ends, Frankie's like, "Dylan?" and I say, "Okay, we're good to go, Frankie." He goes, "Great, but like I tried to tell you before you hung up on me, I just got home from work. Can you give me time to at least wash my hair and clean up?"
Forgetting I'm tired for a second, I tell him, "Clean up if you want, but I'll shampoo your hair for you, its part of the package." Silence for a few seconds, then he goes, "Really? That's, um, so cool. Thanks, um, surprisingly I'd really like that." I ask, "Can I hit the 'end' button now?" He laughs, "Yeah, I'm done talking." We both hit the 'end' button as I'm thinking, huh! Frankie's not shy or uncomfortable about me shampooing his hair. In the reverse situation, I think I would be. I mean, after all we're basically strangers. Dammit! Why did I mention the shampoo?
I'm trying to get my second wind because I should be looking forward to this. There's something about Frankie, although I don't know what it is exactly. For one thing I know he wasn't a freshman when I was a senior. He's probably my age. Whatever, he has something I'm attracted to. Maybe it's his quiet, I don't really give a shit attitude that he projects, but in a nice way. I'm thinking he has a quiet confidence about him, and while he said he's gay I get the sense he's not sexually active. In fact he could be pulling my chain about being gay altogether. Tired as I am it'd be cool if I racked-up another busted cherry this afternoon. Yeah, except guys don't have a cherry, per se. On the other hand I may be getting just a little ahead of myself here... ha ha. Actually I'm not expecting or especially wanting any side-sex with him. I don't need it since Robby's been so excellently taken care of my horniness for three straight days now. Last night with him was awesome.
After washing my face and hands, I grab a Coke from the refrigerator.
Robby's idea about caffeine makes sense. Drinking the soda I text Chubby telling him I'll be using the Jeep for the next hour or so, and I hope that's not a problem. I mean, too bad if it is a problem because I hardly ever use our car as it is. He texts back saying if it's possible could he have our Jeep by seven o'clock for his date. He has a nice way of putting things, and it isn't a problem anyway because I'll easily be done by then, no sweat. By seven I'll be in dream land catching some Z's. Grabbing my set of keys, I drive to Frankie's house and blow the horn two quick blasts. He come out immediately and gets in the Jeep, saying, "This is so fucking nice of you, Dylan." I'm like, "No problem," and he goes, "It's wicked unusual for me to do something like this. I shocked myself yesterday swimming with you guys, and now coming to you for a haircut I feel like a leech, or something." I say, "Nah, nothing like that." He goes, "It's just that you're so cool and relaxed about everything." Ha! I wish! Then he adds, "I feel like I've known you for a lot longer than twenty-four hours, that's for sure." I mutter, "Really? That's nice of you to say." As I pull away from his house, he goes, "In a way I have known you for a few years. I mean I was ogling you at school, and I've overheard so much about you from that asshole cousin of mine."
I glance over at him, and he says, "Not that I believe everything he said.
Don't get me wrong."
I shouldn't give a shit, but I ask anyway, "Um, what else did you hear him say about me?" Frankie goes, "Oh man, it was like three years ago now. I don't remember his exact words, but I got the impression he sorta had you wrapped around his little finger so much so that you'd do anything, even kinky things that he told you to do. You were like super submissive to Carl.
Um, no offense. I know you were much younger then." I take a deep breath, blushing, my face feeling hot. He glances over, "I don't mean to embarrass you. I really don't. Um, mostly I remember getting a hard-on listening to him and Larry talking about it, you know, about what you guys did together."
I'm like, "Well, I don't know what either of them said but you can be dammed sure it was extremely exaggerated. They we're both liars for one thing." He mutters, "Ha, they still are. I can't stand either one of them. Like I told you before, I couldn't believe someone as sexy and cute as you would have anything to do with either of those losers." I swallow noisily, then mumble, "It's embarrassing to think about that shit now. I was young, inexperienced, and stupid. And that's a lethal combination!" Frankie says, "And I suppose you were pretty horny too, huh?" Shrugging, I'm getting a little pissed off at the way he's saying some of these things. He's sounding sort of smug, almost taunting. Going on the offensive, I ask, "So, what's your story, Frankie? You've never made any bad choices sex-wise growing up, I suppose." He scratches his ear, frowning, "No, I've been lucky I guess." I ask, "Didn't you say you were a freshman when I was a senior? How could you be going to college? You'd be a senior in high school." He laughs and blushes, "I lied. I was a year behind you in high school. I didn't know we'd get to be like friends." Letting that slide, I wonder what else he lied to me about.
I'm driving down the alley behind my condo, asking, "Would you say you have an active sex life?" I shouldn't ask that, but I'm on the defensive a little so I'm trying to even the playing field in that regard. He says, "Sorry, Dylan, but I don't feel comfortable talking about that. It's personal, ya know?" Parking the Jeep, I say, "Yes, it is." Getting out of the car, he's like, "Sorry! That sounded pompous of me. I, um, I've had one boyfriend in my whole life and one other sex-buddy. And neither lasted all that long.
I'm not getting much, in other words." He sounds more like himself now, so I pat his shoulder, "Most guys our age aren't getting much, Frankie." Then to change the subject, "How's community college working out for you?" As we're going in through the door next to the garage, he says, "Its okay, but I wish I could go away to college. It feels like extended high school going to college from home." Inside, Frankie's looking around, mumbling, "Nice finished basemen." I go, "Thanks," then ask, "Why don't you get a college loan if you want to go away to college?" He says, "My parents won't cosign for it saying they don't want to screw up their credit rating." I'm not going there, so I say, "Well Frankie boy you're about to experience my world renowned salon treatment that begins with a shampoo." As I'm pointing at the half bath, I add, "Through that door."
He follows me into the powder room, as some call a half bath, asking, "Doesn't it creep you out shampooing another guy's hair?" I say, "No, I like doing it for cute guys like yourself. I'm gay, you know." He chuckles, "So am I, but I'd be cheeped out shampooing another guy's hair, or even cutting it." I say, like I'm mister philosopher, "We're all wired differently, Frankie." He says, "Yeah, that's true. Ya know, I liked that remark you made using the word 'cute' when referring to me. You think I'm cute?" I say, "Yeah, don't you?" He goes, "No, not really. You're the first person who ever told me that." I go, "Well, now you won't be able to say that anymore, will you? Um, you need to take your shirt off if you don't want it to get wet and have hair clippings all over it." He shrugs and pulls his too large, plain white t-shirt over his head. Huh, even though he's quite slim he has a very nice hairless torso. His body's hard- looking to go with his tough baby face. He has a light complexion with the kind of rosy cheeks you don't see on too many guys. He has some scraggily curly whiskers on his upper lip and chin too. Checking out his pecs, I ask, "You doing any lifting, Frank?" He sh akes his head, "No, not the way you mean. I work in at the UPS warehouse so I lift boxes all day, but I've never used free weights or a nautilus machine. Nothing like that."
I explain my improvised shampoo procedure, which he has no problem with.
He sits in the chair facing away from the sink, his neck resting on a hand towel I placed on the rim of the sink. Barking out kind of a nervous laugh, he says, "It's weird but I really like the idea of a guy shampooing my hair and yet I can't imagine doing it to another person myself." I'm like, "Really? You know shampooing is a common practice in men's salons. Not in most neighborhood barber shops of course, but if you pay extra you can even get a shampoo in SuperCuts. That's if you're misguided enough to go to SuperCuts in the first place." He mutters, "That's where I got my last buzz cut.
They're mostly lady hair cutters though," and I mutter, "Not always."
As I'm wetting his hair using the short hose attached to the facet. The one with a spray nozzle at the end, I notice Frankie's looking a little tight, but then he quickly relaxes with slightly slumped shoulders and his hands folded on his lap. Wonder what's in his lap under his hands and baggy cargo shorts? I ask, "How long since you got that last buzz at SuperCuts?" He shrugs, "Almost a year I think. It's the twenty bucks plus tip I object to, not the haircut. I like a buzzed haircut." Frank's my height with light brown hair that's about two and a half inches long all over his head. Hair that definitely needs shampooing, but that's no problem for me. After soaking his hair with warm water, I spread shampoo on his hair and run my fingers though the suds while looking closely at his face. Like I said, he has a baby face that's somehow kinda tough-looking. Maybe he's not actually cute so much as he's interesting looking. He has a widow's peak hairline unfortunately. It's a shame because he has really nice hair that'll look good in a buzz cut except for the hairline drawback. Lucky guys like me have hairlines that go across our foreheads in more or less a straight line.
He's closed his eyes as I massage his scalp and shampoo his hair. It's quiet as I rinse the shampoo out and then do it all over again. Frank has nicely shaped ears, but no earring. No tats either, and from what he's said about the cost of haircuts I'm thinking money's a problem for him. I can just hear him say he's not paying for getting his ear pierced and then the cost of an earring, never mind the cost of a tattoo. It occurs to me as I'm re-shampooing his hair that I wouldn't have given a thought that he might be gay if he hadn't advertised it with all the eye contact during the basketball game yesterday. That, and he did a lot of touching too. Of course he already knew I was gay because of his cousin, so that explains it I guess. And he said he was checking me out during my senior year. It's weird he was doing that and I didn't have a clue. Then he doesn't see me for two years until happenstance puts us together during a pick-up basketball game. Life is strange sometimes.
After the second rinse I dry his head roughly with a towel and his eyes pop open. He goes, "Jesus, I think I dozed off, Dylan. Dude, that felt awesome. Nobody's ever massaged my head like that. I really liked it." I mumble, "Good. Don't wait a year for another haircut." He turns his head to look at me, "Ya mean I can get a free haircut whenever?" I nod, "Yeah, probably. I mean, if I'm home. I go to college in North Andover most of the year." He asks, "Is that Merrimack College." I nod and turn on the hairdryer. When his hair is very dry it shines. Now that it's very clean it's my favorite hair color: light brown, almost blond, but not blond. I guess some people call it dirty blond, but I don't because I don't like the sound of that.
"C'mon with me, Frankie. I cut hair in the basement." As we walk out of the half bath, I say, "Just so ya know, you don't have to get a buzz cut. I can cut any hair style you want." He says, "I've had a buzz cut as far back as I can remember. I'll stick with that." I'm like, "Okay, a half inch buzz cut?" He says, "The last time I wasted twenty buck on a haircut the lady used a number two. Whatever length that is, I liked it." I go, "Jesus, that's a quarter inch. Pretty fucking short." He says, "I guess, but I liked it and almost went back a month later before coming to my senses. I need to work two and a half hours to earn twenty bucks. Spending that on a five minute haircut just doesn't seem right. Can I come back to you in a month though?" I go, "Like I said, if I'm here, of course you can. I come home for weekend visits during college about once a month, usually. We'll text." He says, "Thanks, Dylan. Really, thank you, that'd be awesome."
Using the new barber clippers I bought in Georgia, I put the number two blade on and run the clippers up the back of his head. It's a rush for me seeing all that hair falling away from his head and sliding off the back of my hand, then drifting to the floor. We don't talk as I shear his head. So much clean light brown hair being cut off it gives me a semi-hard on. When done there remains only a quarter inch of hair sticking up stiffly all over his head. I go over it again, then a third time making sure it's totally even. Rubbing my hands over his shorn head is arousing for a guy with a haircut fetish like mine. Frankie breaks the spell I'm in, saying, "Let me feel,"
and he rubs his head with both hands as I'm passing him the hand held mirror. He looks so different, like a different person. Frankly I think he looked better with the shaggy hair. Some guys, in my opinion, look cuter with a buzz cut, and for others the opposite is true. That's just me though.
Frankie goes, "Perfect! Thank you!" I tell him, "I still need to use the trimming clipper around your ears." He sits there holding the mirror looking at himself as I outline around his ears and taper the neck line a little bit. I don't like the hair squared off at the neck. It looks amateurish to me, but that's what most barbers do because it's quicker and easier, plus they've convinced the unknowing public that's the look they want. I'm brushing hairs off his shoulder enjoying my mini-boner as Frankie stands, brushing at his lap. He chuckles, them mumbles, "That was close to a sexual experience, Dylan. First the shampoo and then getting all my clean hair cut off.
Awesome, dude!" Gee, he's very enthused about something so simple. Damn, that makes me feel good. He's a nice guy. "Glad you enjoyed yourself, Frankie. I've got a little bit of a haircut fetish myself so it's kinda sexual for me too. That's one of the reasons I give free haircuts. I'm good at it, but it's a little bit of a rush too." He looks at me, "That's cool, Dylan, but most guys wouldn't admit something like that, ya know?" I shrug, "Why not? It's not like I chose the fetish. It just is."
He helps me sweep up his hair off the floor. Then looking at my watch, I go, "My brother needs the car shortly, so I'll give you a lift home. Feel free to text me whenever you want my world renowned salon treatment again."
He looks startled, "Um, ah, ya know, I was kinda hoping we could hang out together and maybe screw around a little. It's been a while for me. I mean, I thought you and I sort of connected, kind of." That catches me off guard, and I'm like, "Oh, yeah? I mean, that'd be cool, Frankie, but my brother needs the car. He's got a date, um, with a girl. That kind of date." He nods, "Oh, sure, I understand." I shrug, wondering if I even want to do 'it' with him. I joked with myself about it earlier, but not seriously, and I'm really tired. I certainly never expected him to bring it up, but he's attractive and he wants to, but Chubby needs the car. Frank goes, "Hey, I can call my friend, Andy, to pick me up. I mean, if you think it's an okay idea. He could give me a ride home, but not until like nine o'clock when he gets off work. I guess that'd be too late for you, huh?" I can't think straight! I'm smelling the back of my hand trying to work it out in my head. I was planning on chilling tonight, taking a nap and then watching a Red Sox game, but do I want to pass up this opportunity?
He says, "Another time maybe. I don't want to impose on you any more than I already have." Shaking my head, I say, "You're not imposing, but are you sure you can get a ride at nine o'clock?" He goes, "Positively. Well, let me text him right now." He texts and gets texted right back, saying, "No problem, but he needs directions." Together we give Andy directions from the high school to here. That's easier than trying to give directions from Natick, where he works. As Frank's sending the directions in an email, I realize he and I are going to have sex. I feel a little guilty about that because of the wonderful sex-filled weekend with Robby, but on the other hand neither of us said anything about not having buddy sex. I'm staring at Frankie as he types on his smart phone, asking myself if I even want to do this. Too late to change my mind though, I'm pretty much committed now.
Frank looks up smiling, "Okay, we're all set." It's weird but I feel nervous all of a sudden and I rarely get nervous about side sex. I go, "Let me text my brother," and I tell Chubby the Jeeps ready for him, and I hope he has a nice time tonight. Frankie's moving the stool to the carpeted area, saying, "Is it okay if I fuck you while you're lying over the stool on your stomach? That seems like a hot-sexy position to me, especially after getting buzzed on this very stool," and he rubs his buzzed head as he comes over and takes hold of the bottom of my t-shirt, saying, "Arms up," and I'll be dammed if I don't lift my arms so he can pull my shirt off. As he unsnaps the snap on my shorts, he looks at me asking, "Should I use a condom? I brought a couple with me." I'm getting that funny feeling in my balls realizing Frank's taken charge. It feels good as I shake my head, mumbling, "You don't have to use one if you don't want to." Pulling my pants down, he says, "Good, then I won't. It feels better without one anyhow." He's on his knees pulling down my underpants, looking up saying, "Step out of them, Dylan." I lift my feet one at a time and he pulls off my shorts and underpants leaving them in a little pile at the middle of the room.
Still on his knees, he pushes my clothes away from him and picks up my dick, muttering, "Man, it's nice of you to shave your pubic hairs. I hate getting pubes in my mouth, don't you?" Getting my second wind now, I'm feeling nice, nodding my head agreeing with him. He stokes my cock, then puts it in his mouth and sucks on it as I rub my fingers on his bristly head. This is so fucking hot all of a sudden and it happened so fast, and without any awkwardness from Frankie boy. He must be a lot more sexually active than I thought he was, and he's probably getting more than he suggested he was getting. Not that I particularly care.
He does a nice job licking and sucking my cock into a fairly hard boner in just two minutes or so, stroking himself the whole time. Then, with my cock in his mouth he reaches behind me and pokes a finger at my asshole.
Rubbing around it now and then pushing his finger inside me as I grunt, "Umpth, ooh," and move my feet a little. Frank rubs my prostate while taking my boner from his mouth and holding it in his fingers. Still rubbing my prostate he looks up, asking, "You about ready?" I'm definitely in one of my submissive trances, but not from Frankie being dominant so much as the way he just does things in a routine way, like it's the most normal thing in the world for us two to be doing this. I'm just looking at him with my hand on his head, so he asks, "Anything wrong, Dylan?" I murmur, "No, that felt real good," He hooks his finger in my asshole, stands up, and pulls me over to the stool by my asshole. I'm taking little steps, muttering, "What, wait, um, oooh." At the stool he pushes his finger up my ass as far as it'll go, saying, pleasantly enough, "If you'll lay on the stool now," and he pulls up on my asshole and I naturally bend forward, feeling a nice submissive sense flowing over me. He rubs the side of his finger across my prostate, saying, "
Dylan, move back so more of your chest is on the stool, not your stomach,"
and he uses the finger up my ass to help pull me towards him. My cock tightens up some more. Then it tightens even more when he reaches between my legs with his other hand and takes hold of my boner pulling back gently, saying, "Move this way just a little. No, that's good, no more. Don't move."
He drops my cock and pulls his finger out as I moan, Aaaah, umm." Walking around to my head, he's taking his pants off and standing in front of me naked. He has an average size penis that's fairly hard. It's lifting up some, and to the side. He takes my hands that are gripping the seat and places them on the leg of the stool, "Hold on to the legs of the stool, Dylan. I'm going to be spreading your legs wide and I don't want you slipping off and hurting yourself." He lifts my chin slightly with one hand and uses his other to rubs his semi-hard cock's head across my lips, "Open up." I open and suck his cock into my mouth, as he says, "The saliva will help. Kind of a lube, ya know?" I have a hand holding onto both front legs of the stool with my neck strained upwards sucking his cock. He has a lot of pubic hairs, and over-sized balls in an unusually low hanging scrotum. He's also putting out a strong scent of an unwashed body, like his unwashed hair. I'm helplessly into my submissive trance by now so everything seems extremely sexy to me. His cock bones-up pretty good, pretty fast. He rubs my head, almost patting it, saying, "Thanks, that's good just like that, Dylan." He casually walks around back of me again and uses the side of his foot moving my foot way over to the left, then the other way over to the right.
He steps back, then comes close again to move my legs further apart and further away from the stool with my ass hanging off the seat. He mutters, "Good." I'm looking back between the stool's legs seeing him from his crotch down to his feet. He puts the head of his cock against my asshole, humps it in past my sphincter muscle and grips my hips pushing his boner all the way up my ass. I see stars as I groan, "Ow! Oooh, fuck." He says nothing as he pulls his boner back and rams it back in again, then again, this time keeping it there all the way up my ass. He's humping against my butt cheeks while rubbing his hands down my sides, asking, "You okay, Dylan?" I don't want to break the dreamy trance so I just reply with a, "Mmmm." He says, "Good, this feels unbelievably good to me. It's been a while. Your asshole is awfully tight, but good," The pain of his abrupt entrance fades quickly. He asks again, sounding concerned, "You're okay, right?" I gasp, "Uh huh." He says, "This is just a guess, but I'd say you're not getting fucked much. Not since the days of Carl and Louis anyway. You're way too tight to be getting fucked regularly. I'm thinking you and I can help each other out. If you want, I mean."
It's feeling really good and I let out another soft moan, "Mmmm," then take a chance of losing my submissive sense, saying, "I've got a boyfriend."
He goes, "No offense, but if the tightness of your asshole tells me anything, your boyfriend isn't, um, servicing you like you deserve." I just shake my head and enjoy how my rectum's feeling while trying to recapture the fleeting submissive sense I had until I spoke. Still rubbing my body, he murmurs, "You've got a hell of a body. Your skin feels awesome and you deserve to be appreciated. It's unbelievable how sexy, how sweet you smell too," and I feel his face on my back. "Ummmm, you smell good." I tighten my buttocks muscles and squirm to feel his boner move in my ass. Then moan, "Aaah,"
when the side of his boner presses harder against my prostate. He says, "Yeah, I know how good it must feel to you having a hard cock up your ass, but I'm a 'top' at heart." He does some slow thrusting, enjoying himself. The last thrust he humps against my ass hard and grinds his hips, with me moaning, "Ooooh, that feels good, Frankie."
Pulling me further towards him until if I let go of the legs of this stool I'd slide right off on my face. He says, "I got you kind of helpless here, don't I?" and he gives the side my ass a hard slap, asking, "Don't I?" a little louder this time and another, "Smack!" on the side of my thigh. I go, "Ow, dammit." He says, "You like it like this. No way you've changed all that much since your days with my cousin." He gets a hold on each hip and now it's, "Slap,slap,slap," sounds of males fucking fast. That's always music to my ears as the sensations in my rectum fire up in an enticingly sexy manner. It usually happens fast when I'm feeling a new hard cock inside me.
Feels a little different. Everyone of Frankie's hard thrust moves the stool a little bit forward, my toes dragging way behind it. In the back of my mind I'm pissed-off I allowed myself to get in this stupid position, but in the front of my mind I'm groveling in this fairly good submissive trance and enjoying the hell out of the way Frankie's fucking me. He's dipping down with his hips and lifting his hips up as he drives his cock up my ass hard. It 's a damn good hard fucking.
He has a lot of energy too and he keeps up the pounding while grunting with the effort and digging his fingers into my hips. Oh my god it feels good,
"Slap,slap,slap,slap," and I'm openly moaning now, 'Umm. umm, umm, aaah, aaah," with my arms feeling numb from holding so tightly onto the stool's legs. Frankie is in a very easy even rhythm of hard thrusts and my orgasm is building and getting ready to make itself known except he's leaning against my butt cheeks now humping and moaning like he's going to blow his load already, then his body gets stiff, as he goes, "Aaaaah! Oooh," and I feel his climax zip into my bowels. It a long creamy load and he's grunting and then humping another cum stream up my ass. Quiet now, he lays against me, his hands on my shoulders gasping and breathing deeply for half a minute. I'm trying to squeeze out a climax but it's not happening. I was maybe a minute or two away. My rectum is still sizzling with nerve ending sparking pleasure, but fading quickly now that Frankie stopped thrusting.
He straightens up, does three lazy thrusts in my cream-filled rectum, then pulls his cock out slapping my ass hard, "SMACK!" with drooling cum splattering across both my butt cheeks. He takes another deep breath, mumbling, "You can get up now." I pull my legs in and get them under me, then lift off the stool. My shoulders do a little shudder from habit as I stroke my softening cock. "Um, Frankie, you stopped a little early, didn't ya?" He goes, "Dylan, I swear to God I needed that orgasm so fucking bad. It felt fantastic, dude, really great. I can't even verbalize how good that was! I just wanna savor it for a minute." I'm looking at him like I can't believe it, and he finally says, "I'll get you off later. I promise. Your ass is magic! Did your boyfriend ever tell you that? I haven't fucked that many guys, but none had an ass that can compare with yours." This is a bit weird. I bend over to pick up my underwear. It's a funny feeling being close to blast off, and then... nothing.
Frankie asks, "You getting dressed already?" I shrug, "Yeah, I guess so,"
and he says, "Listen, if you suck me off right now I can probably finish the fuck for you." He holds out his sloppy cock, grinning, "You know you want to. C'mon and get it in your mouth." That submissive sensation is looming and ready to float onto my brain again, and when he walks over to cup his hand behind my head, putting downward pressure, murmuring, "C'mon, get down on it and take it in your throat, then I'll finish your fuck." Geez, this submissive trance feels good. Some real dominant behavior without any obligations attached. I'm kinda hooked on side sex of a sub/dom nature. If I say anything it'll break this fragile trance, so I drop to my knees and suck his sloppy cock into my mouth with him putting both hands behind my head. Cum has drooled down the back of my legs and continues to do so. It takes about three full minutes to get his cock just hard enough that he can push the head into my throat making me gag like crazy until it gets past that gag reflex spot. Now his cock is firming up pretty good in my throat so he pulls my head forward and the rest of his cock goes down, down, down until his pubic hairs surround my mouth making me think of Ryan deep throating me.
Pulling his cock up a little, then he pushes it down with his pubic hair again all around my mouth and nose. He humps against my face holding my head between his hands until I'm struggling for oxygen. Just before I faint, he pulls his cock of my throat leaving the swollen head on my tongue, dripping precum. His cock, once again is a full blown boner. His face is red, his eyes look intense as I gasp air into my lungs around the head of his boner.
My chest is heaving and my asshole's twitching with anticipation of Frankie's latest boner soon penetrating my anus again. He's holding the base of his boner with two fingers and a thumb, pulling what's left of his foreskin back and forth on his hard cock. I feel it move on my tongue. His shoulders shudder a little, then he lets go of his cock, grabs my head between both hands to push my head back as he slides his cock down my throat without giving me a chance to protest. Two slow thrust pushing my tonsils out of the way and then very fast wild thrusting with me gagging, water streaming from my eyes, his groin smacking into my face. It goes on for what seems like ten minutes but probably is closer to ninety seconds before he cups behind my head, his boner all the way down my throat with him making desperate whining sounds as he humps against my face and blows a small load of semen down my throat. I didn't even get a chance to taste it.
His head's back, eyes tightly closed, a vein in his throat pulsing and his body stiff as a board for five seconds. It slowly relaxes until it's like he has no bones in his body. Sighing, he pulls his loose noodle from my throat with a cum and saliva strand sticking to the head for a second before breaking off as he steps back knocking the stool over. I fall backward to lay on my back inhaling deep breath after deep breath. My cock is hard and throbbing even though I'm enormously pissed-off. My eyes are lightly closed until I feel I'm able to sit up and look at Frankie. He has a very guilty expression on his face. He's holding his hand out, palm up like he thinks I'm going to charge him, "Dylan, I had no intention of doing that, I swear to God. I couldn't fucking stop. I've never been that sexually aroused in my life. Something took over my brain. I'm so sorry! I never meant to climax in your mouth, um, throat."
He's blubbering like he's about to cry. Sitting on the floor, my arms behind me, palms on the floor for support, I'm staring at him with pursed lips and skepticism in my eyes. I want to be really pissed-off, but he's pleading for me to believe he didn't intend cumming in my throat. Not at all sure I believe him; I nonetheless am enjoying his act. He's convincing and I like him in spite of the selfishness of him getting 'off' twice and not giving a hoot if I get 'off' or not. He's a true side-sex aficionado, I must admit that much. Still, I've got what's called blue balls, called that for some reason that alludes me. I put on an act like I'm ready to kill, saying, "Get over here right now and suck my cock!" He nods his head and without hesitating comes over, gets on his knees and leans his head down between my legs to take my hard boner in his mouth. To his credit he does a very commendable job of sucking, licking, and stroking my boner. His closely buzzed head scratchy on the inside of my thighs as he bobs his head up and down my hard cock. I stay in my original position, sitting on the floor with my hands behind me so his face is close to the floor. Punishment for his naughty double orgasm without me even having one. I'm soon taking quick little breaths as sensations from the head of my cock begin buzzing and getting me to moan at each lick of his tongue, "Oooh, ooh, umm umm."
Frankie boy has a very active tongue, his lips are busy as well and I see his cheeks sucking in, then out. "Ooh, ooh, ummmm," as my right hand leaves the floor so I can rub Frank's head, the memory of all his hair falling away from his head and sliding over my hand twirls around in my brain to go along with sexual sensation from my cock. The slurping sounds from Frankie's mouth join my own whiny sounds of sexual arousal as my hips hump lifting my ass off the floor. A squeal from me with cum streaming from my cock, some oozing out both sides of his mouth. Ahhh, a pleasurable relief. The second shot of cum come with muscles clenching around my groin and it feels so good it's my turn to sigh as my body's shaking a little, then another humps of my hips before my body relaxes and a longer sigh of pleasure from me.
Frank's still slurping on my softening penis making me grin, then I push his head away, saying, "This does not make us even."
He's stroking himself, then sits back in the same position I'm sitting in, "It's a down payment at least," he mumbles. I chuckle and he goes, "I was telling the truth, I didn't expect to lose my mind and deep throat you until I climaxed. My dick took control of my brain." I go, "That's bull shit.
You did it on purpose because you're a sexually self-centered individual who only cares about you're own sexual pleasure, and using me, an innocent novice, as the vehicle to satisfy that insatiable sex drive of your's." He laughs, "Have you been reading my mind again?" Standing, I mumble, "You're my buddy-sex idol, optimizing the very concept of buddy-sex." He goes, "I wish I understood what you just said because it sounded favorable to me."
Actually, between his hot fucking that almost had me blowing my load all over the carpet, and his expert cock-sucking I'm feeling temporarily sexually satisfied. He gets up and we bump fist with me muttering, "You're a sexual deviate and a predator of the worse kind, although I must admit you fuck and suck really good." He helps me up, murmuring, "Nice tasting spunk ya got in your nuts by the way."
We go in the half bath helping each other clean up. There's very little cum on the floor, except some that escaped from my ass. Most of our orgasms ended up in our mouths. We get dressed giving each other friendly and humorous insults and then check the refrigerator for something to eat. Nothing there of interest because mom eats at the restaurant almost exclusively, except occasionally she'll have breakfast at home. It's ten of seven so we've got the time to walk to the Subway shop for their version of subs. Frankie bums another cigarette from me and we both smoke as we walk with me grinning to myself remembering Seth bumming cigarettes from me and keeping count so he could pay me back. And he did too. Almost at the Subway shop I realize I'm not feeling tired like earlier. Sex rejuvenates a person. Inside the Subway restaurant waiting to order, I say to Frank, "Considering the name of this restaurant it's curious they call their subs, 'sandwiches'. I order a steak and cheese sandwich and Frankie boy gets a Italian cold cut sandwich. They're both okay.
As he finishes his soda, Frank says, "Please, whatever you do, don't even jokingly hint to Andy anything about you and me messing around. He's my good bud, but he's completely straight and a bit of a homophobe. He doesn't have a clue I'm gay, hardly anybody does, and I want to leave it like that for as long as I can." I swallow the last of my cheese steak sandwich and say, "Fuck that, I'm 'out' totally and I'm 'outing' you." Frank says too loud, "Don't kid around, Dylan." "Seriously" I mutter, "Fuck that, I'm telling," and he gets all flustered until I go, "Okay, I won't tell, but I'm fucking your ass when we get back to the house." He's like, "Shhh! Jesus! Keep your voice down," and he looks so worried it makes me laugh. He's kinda cute when he panics. The worst thing you can do is show fear that some stranger will hear that you're gay because guys are pricks and for shits and giggles they'll pretend they're going to 'out' you, but they won't if they're friends. I've never 'outed' anyone, but Frankie-boy doesn't know that. Once I've had my 'ball breaking' fun I tell him, "I'm kidding, for chrissakes. Your secret is safe with me, get serious! Hey, how many guys know you're gay anyway?" He shrugs, "No one knows for sure. Even the couple of guys I've had sex with swear we're just messing around experimentally, and of course claiming we're straight. Oh wait, one of them, Malcolm Whyte, says he bisexual." I shrug, mumbling, "Whatever." I can't be critical because I was in the closet for like two years. A person knows the right time to 'come out' on their own, and that time is different for everyone.
Walking back we smoke another Marlboro Light with Frankie asking, "Do you do much pot?" I shake my head, "Not much. I had a fling with it during freshman year but I ultimately decided I'd stick to adult beverages for my 'highs' and leave others to their joints. I don't care for the distinct, unmistakable smell of cannabis smoke." He goes, "Yeah? I don't mind it, but Andy's a stoner and I think it's becoming a problem for him. He always has some joints on his person, so we could get high if we wanted to." I go, "Not for me, thanks." We walk in silence for a couple of minutes, then he says, "Um, I don't like taking a cock up my ass to be honest about it. I pretend to be cool with it, but it hurts. I'll blow you again, but you're not fucking me." We argue about that a little because I'm in the mood to fuck him.
Usually I much prefer to 'bottom', but tonight I have the urge to 'top' this new sex buddy who interest me somehow. I know Robby's happy to oblige me the rare times I get the urge to 'top', and I think he likes it. I'm pretty sure Danny Monday mostly was the 'top' for those two. Finally I give in to Frankie and I admit that he fucks good and he can 'top' again with him promising to fuck me until I climax.
Well, I'm definitely back in Framingham obviously! It's a mystery why my act didn't fly in Marietta. A Monday night in Georgia, when Ryan was with Mike, I'd be in my room with one option: whether or not I wanted to have a two inch fuck and suck with Timmy. Often it wasn't worth the trouble and I'd stay in for the night. Maybe the difference was that in Marietta none of the guys I gave haircuts to were gay or interested in exploring that possibility with me. When I was Ray Reeves' so-called boyfriend everyone in the neighborhood knew I was gay because he bragged about it all over town. That might have presented the opportunity for guys who wondered if they might like to try something gay to give it a try with me. In some ways that's complimentary, and in other ways it isn't. Yeah, but the guys in Marietta knew I was gay and except for Sam's brother, Major, and he doesn't count because he's too young, no one else had a gay experimental inclination. I get a lot of sex after giving haircuts to Framingham boys... maybe it's something in the water here. Whatever, it's good to be home.&
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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