Invited

Chapter 10

( Best Afternoon Ever )

In bed, feeling sorry for myself, I stop doing that long enough to think about Billy's exact words. He said he needed to take a break from our messing around so he could concentrate on starting his college career. I can't believe that's the only reason, but whatever, a ten-day break isn't the same as breaking up with me.

In fact, it's not much different from when I've waited a couple of weeks between calls from him. Plus, he emphasized that he likes me more than anyone. Nah, there's no reason to feel sorry for me.

I know I've been overdoing my declarations of love for him, making him uncomfortable. If I can keep my mouth shut about that, I'll do myself a favor. Billy's simply being sensible and responsible, realizing that college needs to be taken seriously.

Thinking more rationally now, I'm able to drift off to sleep.

When my alarm wakes me, I'm confused at first. I've been sleeping as late as I wanted the previous six mornings, but today is a workday. Twenty minutes later, I showered and dressed, had a cup of coffee, and I'm outside waiting for George.

We smile at one another when he stops at the curb. Getting in the car, I stifle an urge to kiss him hello, bumping fists with him instead, "Good morning, George. It feels strange going to work after six days off, doesn't it?"

George says, "Good morning. Yeah, it feels a little strange." Then, driving us away, he adds, "Plus, I miss golfing this morning."

I nod, "Yes, I do too, but we can golf this afternoon."

Yep, golfing with George is fun, but right now, what's on my mind is I won't be seeing Billy tonight. George glances at me, "What's wrong, Gary?"

Forcing a smile, I'm like, "Nothing's wrong; I'm good."

College is on George's mind too. He says, "I can hardly believe how time flew by this summer. This is my last six-day shift at Weis Market. I'll be into my sophomore year at Drexel University a mere ten days from now."

I say, "I'm going to miss taking breaks with you, George," then I ask, "How far is Drexel from Springfield?" He shrugs, "Only about eleven miles or so. I can drive it in twenty-five minutes."

Surprised, I go, "Oh, that's awesome! We can golf once in a while even though you're living on campus, right?"

Parking at Weis Market, George says, "Definitely! I'll probably have more free time at college than I have now. "

We get out of the car, "That makes me happy. I'll look forward to hanging out with you whenever you invite me."

He chuckles, "Well, I'll be inviting you, as you put it, all the free time I have."

That makes me feel good for the moment; then, it's a gloomy morning thinking about this current Billy situation. My boss, John, is still very friendly and squeezes the back of my neck like before, but that doesn't give me shivers and chills as it used to. Still, he is a very good-looking guy, and he's nice to me, which makes for a pleasant working environment.

Later, I'm bagging groceries at noon when George cheerfully says, "Time for our break."

He gives me a Winston cigarette at the picnic table, lights it, and says, "You still look down in the dumps."

Shaking my head as if I don't want to talk about it, then I blurt out, "Billy doesn't want to see me for at least ten days."

He asks why, and once I start talking, I tell him everything, ending with, "He thinks I'm overdoing being in love with him too. I guess it's because he can't make himself admit that he's gay."

I told Geroge about Billy's and my intimate messing around, and he was like, "Uh-huh, yeah, well, that's some seriously gay messing around, as you guys call it, for sure."

Commiserating with me, George describes some of his past heartaches, adding, "But, in your situation, he hasn't broken up with you. Far from it, he told you he likes you better than anyone he knows. He won't wait ten days; he'll be back messing around sooner than that. I'd bet on it."

Encouraged, I mumble, "I hope you're right."

George snickers, "Messing around is a cute euphemism for anal sex." I shrug, "That's what Billy called it from the start, so I use it too. I know what we're doing, though."

Gee, I feel a lot better after talking things out with George. Then, we finish the last two hours of our shift, George drives me home, and we go inside the house for Cokes; then I get my golf clubs, and we're off to the par-three course.

After golfing, we're driving back to my house; George asks, "Have you ever bowled?" I go, "A couple of times as a kid; why?"

With a grin, he asks, "Strickly as friends, would you bowl with me tonight? Not as a date or anything. Just two friends bowling for the hell of it."

I'm like, "Yes, sure, I'd like that. Thanks for inviting me." And, wearing masks, that's what we do Thursday night.

Friday plays out more or less the same as Thursday, except we wear masks when we go to the movies at night. Saturday, we work, play golf, and that night, wearing masks again, we go to an LGBTQ club party. George was a member of the club in high school, and some of the club's current and previous members still get together during the summer.

When we get there, no one is wearing masks. The girl throwing the party, Sheila Knight, says, "We're over the masks thing, George. The mask mandate has been lifted." Then, nodding at me, she goes, "Who's this?" We take our masks off as George introduces me.

There were twenty club members at the party, a few of the more flamboyant ones I remember seeing in the school corridors. Some were in my graduating class too, so they make a big deal out of me being gay. A few were surprised I'm gay, and one guy was like, 'Darling, it was so obvious you were one of us. I almost mentioned it to you that time you ate lunch at our table.'

I don't recall ever eating lunch with him, but I tried hard all night to be friendly with everyone even though it wasn't a very good time. I couldn't really relate to the almost militant attitudes of some members, especially the girls.

George is the best-looking one in the group, which made me feel good for some reason. But, hell, I don't know, I didn't feel I fit in. Plus, it's disappointing there were no alcoholic beverages and no grass. I could have used some of both.

After a while, George noticed I wasn't cheerily having a good time, so we made an early exit. He's always considerate like that.

Since Billy hasn't been inviting me out, I went back to my old habit of jerking off. Yeah, I was horny, and the thought of making out and blowing George was on my mind during the party. I didn't want to be untrue to Billy, though, so I resisted those urges.

Well, George didn't invite me to do that with him anyway, so I shouldn't give myself much credit for being faithful. George deserves the credit for keeping his word about us simply being gay friends. If he invited me to make out, I might have caved in and done it with him. After experiencing messing around with another guy, jerking off pales by comparison. It's still not bad, though.

George and I work our shift Sunday, then play golf in the afternoon. That night, he stays home because relatives are at his house for Sunday dinner, and it would be rude to leave right after eating. I'm good with staying in tonight. Hell, I used to do it all the time. Tonight, though, I'm again moping around, missing Billy. When I'm with my friend, George, I can get my mind off Billy. Other times, all I think about is Billy.

Anyway, after dinner, I'm in my room thinking about jerking off when, taking me by surprise, Billy calls. I stare at the William Underwood caller ID, Billy's father's caller ID. Knowing it was Billy, though, I got goosebumps popping up all over me. I mean, it's only been five days. He said it would be at least ten days before we'd mess around again. George was right!

My finger shakes as I press the talk button, "Hello." Billy, sounding as if we spoke yesterday and nothing out of the ordinary is going on, says, "Hi, Gary. You still with me?" I mutter, "Totally with you."

He goes, "Well, as I promised, I'll go with you to your uncle's barbershop this week. We don't want to fuck with the magic having the same haircuts brings us, so what day do you wanna go?"

I don't remember him promising that, but I go, "Haircuts? Oh, yeah, um, when do you want to do that? You're still working, right?"

"Yeah, I'm still working, but I'm home every day by three-thirty. Any day, any time after three-thirty works for me."

I ask, "How is your college preparation coming along?"

He goes, "Oh, fuck, it's frustrating. I'm changing my course schedule, but it's like pulling teeth to get anyone at the college to call or text me back. Yesterday after work, I was on campus buying textbooks and, on the spur of the moment, I stopped in without an appointment to see my college guidance counselor. I'd emailed her twice, but she didn't get back to me."

I mumble, "I hope it works out okay for you."

He says, "I got some stuff done, yeah. She was nice and helpful. This is my first year, and, believe it or not, I'm a little nervous. I want to get off on the right foot and all that. You know how it is doing something for the first time, right?"

Yeah, I caught his inference of my first time messing around with him. Gee, though, he actually is all wrapped up in his college stuff. I say, "You're very conscientious."

He goes, "Yes, of course I am. You probably think the words conscious and conscientious are synonymous."

I mutter, "No, I don't."

He adds, "The words are entirely different." "Uh-huh, I know."

Jumping topics, he asks, "How about Tuesday?" I mumble, "For what? Getting haircuts? Um, do you think we need haircuts?"

Billy goes, "That's three questions in a row. You ask too many questions, but yes, obviously, we need to get our identical haircuts. There's magic in that, um, somehow. Listen, I'll have the use of my mom's car, so I can pick you up at four o'clock on Tuesday. Do you miss me?"

"Um, Tuesday? Oh, but, uh-huh, yes. Ah, yes, for Tuesday, and yes, I miss you."

He goes, "That's my boy," and I hear a click as he hangs up.

I started shaking a little, hearing his voice and the thought of being with him Tuesday. Flopping onto my bed, I get my dick out and masturbate in a frenzy. Less than a minute later, my back arcing, I moan, "Ah, ahh, ahh!" shooting off my best climax since my last one with him. Oh, God, that climax was seriously intense!

My heart is beating as fast as hummingbirds, but I slowly calm down, then think, wait a minute here. Yeah, he's not doing any of the college things he mentioned at night. I don't understand why we can't get together for an hour or two at night.

And this haircut thing! He's talked himself into believing there's some magic in us having the same haircut. That way, he doesn't have to admit he's gay for me.

Yeah, well, he's not as gay for me as I am for him. That's obvious because he can handle abstinence way better than me. Still, I'll be with him Tuesday, and who knows what might happen when the sexy electric sparks start zapping between us?

Monday morning, I'm excited to tell George about Billy's unexpected phone call. Getting in the car, I go, "Great news, George! He called me last night." When I say he, George knows who I mean. Then, too late, I realized that this news wasn't exciting to George.

Still, he smiles as he mumbles, "I'm glad, Gary. It's wonderful to see you smiling and happy again." Dialing back my enthusiasm, I say, "I'm sorry, George. It was insensitive of me to burst out with that the way I did."

He says, "No, I'm happy for you, seriously. Who better to share your exciting good news with than your best friend?"

I mumble, "Thank you; you are my best friend. It means a lot to me that you're happy for me." Then, I realize George hasn't asked why Billy called, and I'm unsure what that means.

Later, during our fifteen-minute break, smoking one of George's cigarettes, I'm vacillating whether to tell him why Billy called or just accept that since he didn't ask, he doesn't care. Or maybe he thinks I would have mentioned what Billy called about if I wanted him to know. Which way should I go?

I skirt the issue, asking, "Do you mind that I talk about my Billy drama with you?"

He says, "No, not at all. If it helps you to talk about it with me, I'm privileged to be your confidant."

I grin, "Confidant, huh? You're the first confidant I've ever had"

He snickers, "Everyone should have one, you know." Then he says, "Well, you know what S. E. Hinton said, right?"

I shake my head, and he says, "She claims you're lucky if you have two friends in your lifetime. If you have one GOOD friend, you're even luckier. I'm going to be you're one GOOD friend, Gary."

Feeling my eyes watering, I murmur, "Thank you. I could kiss you for that."

He nods at the dumpster, "We could have a friendship kiss behind the dumpster, except a few of our fellow employees are out here with us."

Yeah, there are three women at the other picnic table. I murmur, "We'll find a time for a friendship kiss later."

It's late in my life to finally be cultivating a close friend, but better late than never. Most of the credit for our friendship goes to George anyway. Still, having a best friend feels good. And, it'd be hard to imagine a better friend than George has been.

After work on Monday, we hit a large bucket of balls at the driving range but don't play the par-three course today. The next time I golf with Dave Summerset, he'll be surprised at how improved I am after all the golfing I've been doing.

After dinner, George comes over, and we play computer games for a while, then drive to DQ for soft-serve cones. Sitting in his car eating our cones, I glance at him, admiring his good looks and smooth light brown skin. Even though it would be disloyal to Billy, I'd love to mess around with George at the Sears parking lot. You know, if he'd invite me to do that.

Finishing our cones, I get an idea and say, "Hey, George, I still owe you a friendship kiss because of your support through all my whining about Billy."

He chuckles, "Here? You're going to kiss me here?"

Shrugging, I mumble, "It would probably be better in the Sears parking lot." He pats my shoulder, "Thank God for dumpsters, huh?"

I mutter, "Haha, yeah, they come in handy."

Making a face, he goes, "The thing is, Gary, going to the parking lot would be too much temptation for me. You know how I feel about you. One kiss with you would light my fire."

I say, "In that case," and lean over and kiss the side of his lips." He smiles, "Holy shit, thanks, Gary."

I say, "We're kissing friends, right?" He goes, "Sure, and I don't care who sees me acting gay; I've been out for years. I thought you'd care, though."

Shrugging, "I only care because I don't want my parents to get shocked, but I don't know anyone here, and I wanted to kiss you, so..."

Driving away, George is smiling, "Well, Gary, I can tell you're hungry to mess around, as you call it. Let's wait until after you see him tomorrow, though. Then, if you still want to go to the Sear parking lot, we'll do it. I'd certainly like that. Oh, wait. I can't Tuesday night; I have a guitar lesson on Tuesdays, then a neighborhood barbeque tomorrow night. We can do it Wednesday night if things don't work out with him, and you still want to."

I squeeze my junk, mumbling, "Okay. I'll tell you what happens tomorrow afternoon, and you advise me what I should do."

George chuckles, "No-no, don't put that pressure on me. It'll be solely up to you if we do any messing around. Haha, now you've got me using the messing around euphemism."

Almost to my house, I give in to my cravings and say, "We could go to Sears tonight."

Stopping at the curb in front of my house, George says, "Nah, as much as I'd like to do that, it's a bad idea. Let's wait until we see what happens tomorrow afternoon between you and him. If we messed around tonight, you might be disappointed in yourself and somehow blame me."

Nodding, I unfasten my seatbelt, lean over and kiss him, murmuring, "I know you're keeping your word about us only being friends. Well, that was another kiss between gay friends."

He smiles, "All your kisses are very much appreciated. Thank you." I kiss him again, "Thanks for being my friend." He mutters, "My pleasure! I'll see you tomorrow morning."

Going inside, I tell myself that I love George as a friend, but I'm not in love with him. And, I think what that woman said about a person having one good friend in a lifetime is true. I'm fortunate to have one good friend in George.

After showering and doing everything else I need to do in the bathroom, I'm in bed jerking off into a sweat sock, fantasizing I'm standing and taking it up the ass with Billy doing his bareback riding messing around. That's the hottest way we've done it yet. Billy said the same thing.

At work Tuesday, I'm giddy with anticipation of seeing Billy. I'm also mad at him for putting me through this timeout, but, at the same time, I love him more than ever. Not being with him for almost a week highlights how important he is in my life.

In my head, I can see his cute face and taste him and feel him. I can hear his youthful, smiling voice too. I need to be a better girl/guy for him. Make him see how much I want to please him, make him feel my love without me saying it out loud.

During our fifteen-minute break, I tell George my idea about how I need to be a better boyfriend to Billy. He makes a face, "You know, Gary, no matter how hard you try, you can't make someone love you."

I say, "I know that, but I can be more attentive and responsive to what he likes and wants."

Making another face, George says, "You need to just be yourself. You're not inferior to him, for God's sake. Love is a mutual endeavor, not a lopsided one."

I'm like, "I'm not so sure about that, George. He's my guy, my top guy, and it's up to me to be the best girl/guy for him I can be."

Shaking his head, he mutters, "You're not a guy/girl, or whatever you call it, Gary. You're a guy, period. I hope you don't end up disappointed or worse."

The last two hours at work dragged along so slowly I could scream. Then, finally, George drives me home, and I was nervous and excited at the same time.

Something funny happened in the stock room that George is telling me about. I chuckled with him without knowing what I was chuckling about because I couldn't concentrate on what he said. He pats my shoulder at my house, "Good luck this afternoon, Gary. I'm sure everything will work out. But, ha-ha, I don't know why you feel you need a haircut."

I'm like, "Billy and I prefer that crisp look of a recent haircut." He grins, "You look cute enough to eat right now."

Smiling, I say, "You're too nice, George. Good luck with your guitar lessons this afternoon and tonight's barbecue." He says, "I'm sure the barbecue will be boring, but thanks."

When I'm inside, it hits me that I have almost two hours to kill before Billy picks me up. It might be wildly optimistic of me, but I think there's a good chance he'll want to do some messing around before or after our haircuts. With that in mind, I shower, then brush my teeth and gargle with Mom's horrid mouthwash.

Then, combing my hair, I agree with Billy that we need fresh haircuts. Hell, on my own, I got my second haircut just three weeks after the first one. Hmm, what did Billy say this haircut was called? Whatever, I've come to like it. Damn, I should have had my ridiculously curly hair cut this short years ago.

Rejecting the urge to dress up a little for Billy, I put on old cargo shorts and a polo shirt, socks, and my newish sneakers. The sneakers are not looking especially new after golfing in them a dozen times. What the hell, though? I'm fat with cash; I'll buy new sneakers this week, and these will be my golfing sneakers.

Still gawking at myself in the mirror, I hear a horn blow. Billy's early! That's a good sign!

Running downstairs, I quickly go outside, and there's smiling Billy in the driver's seat. Omigod, look at that fabulous smile with dimples and his shiny white teeth with the small spaces between the top ones. My penis stiffens up as I get in the SUV. Then I'm unsure what Billy will think is the proper greeting after a six-day separation.

He holds out his fist, so I bump fists with him as he says, "Hey, you're looking good, Gary" I mumble, "Hi, Billy. You're looking fabulous. I want to hug and kiss you and roll around naked in bed with you."

He laughs aloud, then asks, "Well, hell, is anyone home?" Shaking my head, he shrugs, "Okay then, I'll let you blow me before we get our haircuts." Ha, I knew he'd want to mess around!

I nod my head, grinning like mad, and he goes, "Well, do you want to or not."

I'm like, "Yes, more than you could possibly know." Laughing again, he turns the motor off, "Let's not pass up this opportunity then. I knew you'd want to suck my dick."

Getting out, he smiles, "Yep, I heard the desire for me in your voice when I talked to you on the phone."

At the front door, I'm fumbling with the key, too excited to get the damn key in the lock. Billy gently takes the key from my fingers, saying, "Calm down. I'm going to take care of you."

He unlocks the door and hands me the key, smiling at me, "There you go, no problem." Still smiling, he squeezes the back of my neck the way John used to, giving me a million pleasant shivers.

I smile back, "I love you, Billy." He goes, "I know you do, but, ha-ha, let's go inside. I don't want a blowjob on your front stoop."

Inside, Billy closes the front door and wraps me in his arms; my arms go around him as he murmurs, "I've been missing you a little too, ya know."

I mutter, "I can't imagine how you could miss me as much as I've missed you."

Smiling, he rubs my head, "Yeah, well, you've got a point there. Hmm, but maybe we should get our haircuts before you blow me. Whaddaya say?"

Shaking my head, I hug him tightly, "No, please, do some messing around first." He snickers, "I was only teasing you."

We've still got our arms around one another, so I kiss him, then murmur, "I'm so in love with you I can barely breathe."

He smiles again and says, "Gee, no matter what I say, you'll continue telling me that, won't you?"

"Oops, sorry."

He smiles, "Well, I'm used to hearing it now, so I guess it's okay." Then he deliberately and slowly licks across my lips, smiles again, "You like me doing that, doncha?" I nod my head in a daze, "Yes, very much."

I'm not sure what swooning means, but I think that's what I'm doing. Smiling again, Billy lets go of me and steps back. As my arms slide off him, he says, "Okay, let's go upstairs to your bedroom. That's a good place for you to suck me off."

I go, Sure," and he says, "Who knows? After our haircuts, maybe some haircut magic will kick in, and we can come back here to roll around in your bed naked."

I nod, catch my breath, then sputter, "Whatever you say. I'll always be totally your girl/guy, Billy."

He chuckles, "Goddamn, you're a lot of fun, you really are. Let's go upstairs."

With his arm around the back of my neck, we walk upstairs side by side. He says, "You know what? I think you're getting through to me. Seriously, I've never been as enthralled with anyone before in my 'effing life as I am with you. It's actually a pretty fucking cool thing too."

He didn't get upset when I blurted out that I loved him. I'd promised myself I wouldn't blurt it out, but it just came out anyway. In my bedroom, I mumble, "I'm sorry for blurting out I love you a couple of times. I'll stop doing that."

He shrugs, "That's okay; you can't help yourself. Hell, I kind of like hearing it, as I just 'effing told you a minute ago, don't you listen?" I mutter, "Oh, yeah; did you? Being with you has me a little flustered."

He drops his shorts and says, "As far as love goes, did you know it was Empedocles who was first to conceive love as a great cosmic principle? Of course, it was Plato who first imagined love as the transcendental redemptory force it's become."

Dropping to my knees, I'm like, "Oh, uh-huh. I mean, I didn't know that."

He pulls his underpants down to his knees, so I quickly unzip and pull out my fairly firm penis. It's a twin penis to Billy's, although his isn't as firm as mine.

Billy mumbles, "As I said, I missed you, and that got me in some trouble. Yeah, I was horny smoking grass with Chicky, so I let him talk me into giving him a blowjob. This was Sunday when nobody was home at his house. We were high as a kite, but messing around with him made me realize that you and me messing around is a hundred times better. So, what I'm saying is, even if we didn't need to get haircuts today, I would have called you anyway."

Jealousy blossoms in my head for a second. Then I'm thinking, hell, at least Chicky's good for something. He made Billy appreciate me. With my fingers trembling, I take hold of his dick, asking, "You guys didn't

mess around doing anything else, did you?"

He mutters, "That's none of your business." I stroke his dick, and he goes, "Well, no, we didn't do any other messing around. Instead, we got into an argument about how much he wanted to charge me for a couple of joints. The asshole."

Forcing thoughts of Chicky and jealousy from my mind, I lick the head of Billy's cock, then stifle a moan of arousal. Today his bodily aroma is stronger than normal, meaning better than normal, so I inhale deeply. My dick tightens up significantly as I quietly moan, "Umm," then suck the whole head into my mouth.

Billy's fingers ruffle my hair as he murmurs, "Umm, yeah, that feels good. Just so you know, Gary, I feel bad about doing that shit with Chicky. That was the last time that would ever happen. I'm only messing around with you from now on."

Oh, joy! I suck the head of his hardening penis, and he grunts, then moans, "Ahh, ahh, there you go. That feels good."

My tongue slides around the head as I stroke the shaft, getting it harder. With my lips tightly just below the head, the tip of my tongue presses against the piss slip, and, for an instant, I notice a faint taste of Billy's urine; then, it's gone.

My dick has become a steel spike by now, pointing up, the head tight against the button on my shorts. Going down on Billy's boner, my nose touches the roots of his pubic hair, the head of his cock against my throat's gag reflex area. Billy shuffles his feet and rubs my head, grunting, "Ah, umm."

Pulling my head back, then going down on him again, I gag as the head again hits the back of my throat. Trying to relax my throat muscles, I do it again, and the head goes fully into my throat this time, my nose pressed against his groin. Billy jerks his hips, groaning, "Oh, fuck, yeah." I do it twice more, and both times, the head is completely in my throat for half a second.

The next time, with the head partially in my throat, I feel it throbbing. My boner is so hard it's now sticking straight out. Inhaling deeply through my nose, I do it again, and, with the head in my throat, Billy gasps as his hips hump, pushing his cock further down my throat, and we both climax.

Cum sizzles from my boner; my eyes close tightly. I gag, trembling and shuddering at the explosion of orgasmic sensations from my balls and boner, the pleasure sensations spread to my thighs and all around my groin, then up my stomach, and all the way up until the roots of the hair on my head are tingling.

Billy pulled his cock out, his cum drooling down my esophagus. Still shaking, I open my eyes and see my cum splattered on Billy's shorts. He hasn't noticed it yet as he squeezes his dick, smiling and saying, "Deep throating alert. Haha, Gary, that was fantastic!"

I'm working my throat muscles getting the rest of the cum down, then mumble, "Sorry," and point at the big wet spot on the leg of his shorts.

Looking at it, Billy goes, "What the fuck?" I say, "I'll give you one of my clean shorts to wear."

He shrugs, smiles, and says, "Yeah, I guess. Jesus, though, that was awesome."

Standing, I put my dick away and zip up, saying, "It just happened on its own. Your dick was in my throat!"

He steps out of his boat shoes, then takes off his shorts and feels around his underpants, mumbling, "Give me underpants too. I can feel a wet cum spot here," and he points to a spot on his jockey shorts.

He's not mad at me, though. He smiles, shaking his head, muttering, "My boy can deep throat me now."

Pulling a bureau drawer open, I look for my newest boxer shorts and hand him a blue one. He goes, "Do you got any jockey underpants? I like my dick nestled in jockey shorts, not swinging around in boxers."

Muttering, "Yeah, okay," I look for a pair of jockey underpants, preferably one without a cum stain. Giving him the best one I can find, he doesn't even glance at it. Putting it on, he excitedly says, "That deep throating was something, huh? What a great orgasm. Nice job."

Looking for my best pair of shorts to give him, I ask, "Was it a hundred times better than doing it with Chicky?"

He snickers, "More like a million times better."

Feeling proud, I blurt out, "I can do it even better too, Billy."

He puts on the shorts I hand him and says, "These are nice, thanks." Then he rubs my head again, "I'll bet you can do it better, but if you do it too much better, I'm afraid my dick will fly down your throat with my jam. Haha, that was so good; I'm still feeling it."

Leaning against him, I mumble, "I like making you feel good."

He puts his arms around me, "Yeah, okay. I'll give you a hug, but I don't feel like doing buddying up right now. Do you mind?"

Squeezing my arms around him, I go, "Yes, I mind," then kiss him. He goes, "Okay, that's enough," and we let go of one another.

He takes his wallet and cell phone from the pockets of his cum stained shorts, asking, "What time will your mom get home from work?"

Oh, shit, I forgot about that. I go, "Five o'clock. Damn, we can't mess around here after our haircuts."

Smiling, he goes, "There's always the Sears parking lot after dark."

Perking up, I'm like, "You mean tonight?" Nodding and smiling, he says, "Yeah, tonight. I can't let you down. I promised I'd take care of you, didn't I?"

Nodding, I stare at him, "You're so special, Billy."

I absolutely love his face and body; everything about him is so cool, so sexy. I'm staring at him as he continues checking the pockets of his cum stained, elastic waistband shorts. Without looking up, he mumbles, "You're staring at me again, aren't you?"

Muttering, "Sorry," he mussed my hair, so I grabbed a comb off the bureau and combed my hair down on top, then combed the bangs up just right. Billy walks up behind me and puts his arm around me. With the side of his face nuzzling against mine, he murmurs, "We're pretty much perfect for each other. I never thought I'd ever feel about a guy how I feel about you. I'm not saying it's a gay feeling, but it's scarily close."

Moving the side of my face against his, I murmur, "Thank you for telling me that."

Letting go of me, he says, "Or it could be I've simply been taken in by the way you love and idolize me so much. That could be fucking-up my rational thinking. Being loved and idolized is hard to ignore, ya know?"

I say, "Or it could be you like me a lot."

Smiling, "What the fuck? Of course, I like you a lot. I've told you that already. Jesus, don't you listen? I was talking about, um, maybe it's more than liking you a lot, and I'm not remotely talking about love. Get that out of your head. It's just a feeling I've never experienced, ah... oh, fuck! I don't know. You're special, okay? Leave it at that."

I'll happily leave it at that because I'm winning.

He smiles, "See how crazy you make me. Maybe I need another ten days off from messing around with you to sort it all out."

I grin, then comb his bangs up, mumbling, "No, please, not that."

He pinches my cheek, smiling and saying, "You're a likable, cute motherfucker, ain'tcha?"

I go, "If you say so."

He mumbles, "Let's get the haircuts taken care of 'cause I'm anxious to experience more haircut magic."

Putting my arm around the back of his neck, I kiss his cheek, then say, "You're my hero."

Snickering, he mutters, "No shit," and then shrugs away from my arm, adding, "That's enough buddying up; let's get going."

I'm like, "Sure, but first," and Billy follows me into the bathroom where I wash my hands, then brush my teeth as he takes a piss, saying, "Oh, boy, Gary, you stepping up like that, taking it in your throat impresses the hell out of me."

Garling with the horrid mouthwash for the second time today, I spit it out and mumble, "Thanks, Billy. That is exactly what I was hoping for. I want to be a better girl/guy for you. I'm determined to try harder to please you."

He asks, "Really? Um, do you know what rimming is?"

I shrug and shake my head. He goes, "It's kind of gross and something I'd never do, but you might want to do it for me. I'm wicked curious how it would feel."

Drying my hands, I'm like, "Well, what is it? I'll do it for you. Just invite me."

He frowns, "What's inviting have to do with anything?"

"Oh, um, inviting me is the same as asking me to do something." He shrugs, "Well, why not say ask, then?" I go, "I don't know. I'll say ask from now on."

Going downstairs, I'm like, "So, what's rimming mean?"

He waves his hand like, forget it, "We'll Google it sometime, okay? It'll be better watching someone do it than trying to describe it."

I love his bodily contact, so, putting my arm around his neck, I go, "Sure, whatever you want. In case you haven't noticed, I like touching you."

He rolls his eyes, "Ha, that's what I've been accused of. Being too touchy/feely."

I kiss his cheek and say, "You couldn't possibly touch me too much."

He chuckles, "See! That's what I 'effing mean. You flatter the shit out of me, and it's hard to resist."

At the bottom of the stairs, I hug his wonderful body with both arms, murmuring, "I'm so happy being with you again, Billy."

He goes, "It's only been six days, for Christ's sake." Then he hugs me back, mumbling, "Whatever makes you happy, I guess."

Oh God, my dick is getting hard again. His body feels so good against mine! It's a two-second hug, then he goes, "Okay, that's enough of that."

Driving to my uncle's barbershop, Billy asks, "What do we tell your uncle we want?"

I shrug, "Just tell him you want the same haircut. Uncle Tony will see how your last haircut grew out and know what to do; he's a professional."

Snickering, he mutters, "A professional butcher, haha." I go, "Hey!"

Billy goes, "No, you're right; he's not a butcher doing this haircut style. And I want the hairs at the crown sticking up like yours did after your last haircut. That looked cool."

Nodding, I mumble, "Don't worry about that. Uncle Tony cuts hair on the short side." Billy goes, "Magically too. It's the weirdest thing, but it works."

Jesus, he really believes that. Billy's ability to rationalize away his gayness is off the charts, but I don't care because it's working out fantastically for me.

When we walk into the shop, Uncle Tony is standing at the cash register talking with a man who just got a haircut. He stops talking to the man when he sees me and goes, "My favorite nephew, Gary. And, can I believe this? You're recruiting business for me too."

The man says, "I'll see you next month, Tony." He leaves, and I introduce Billy. "Uncle Tony, this is my friend, Billy Underwood. He got his hair cut at the shore the same way you cut mine. How about that for a coincidence?"

Uncle Tony goes, "You've been here for a haircut before, haven't you son?" Billy goes, "One other time, yes, sir."

Billy can be polite like that. Uncle Tony goes, "Hmm. Underwood, huh? Is your dad's first name Art?"

Billy shakes his head and mutters, "No, it's William, like mine." Uncle Tony says, "Another Underwood in town, huh? Art Underwood has been coming to me for haircuts for years. Well, who wants to go first?"

Billy says, "He does," and sits in a waiting chair as I get in the barber chair, saying, "Same as last time, Uncle Tony."

Twenty minutes later, Billy and I walk out of the barbershop with identical short-as-shit haircuts. Billy says, "I feel the haircut magic already," as he rubs the bristly hairs at the crown of his head with one hand and mine with his other hand, adding, "We have twin dicks, and twin haircuts."

Frowning, I mutter, "Christ, Uncle Tony cuts it shorter every time I get this haircut. Do you think we should use that glop to hold the hair on top lying flat?"

Billy goes, "NO! Absolutely not. I like this better than the haircut I got at the shore." Feeling my bristly hair, I mumble, "I told you he wasn't a butcher."

Getting in his mom's SUV, he says, "I wish we had a place we could mess around at right now. This haircut has got me all geared up to bareback your cute ass."

I'm like, "Without lube again, you mean?"

He's looking at his new haircut in the rearview mirror, muttering, "Yeah, without using a rubber or lube. That was the hottest way to do it, don't you think?"

It hurts more than when we use lube, but I enthusiastically say, "Yeah, by far the best."

He pats my cheek, "Well, that's how we'll do it then." I'm like, "Yep, okay."

I'm conscientiously on a crusade to be the best guy/girl for him I can be. I'll put out for him any way he wants to do it.

Fastening our seatbelts, Billy says again, "Goddamn, I'd really, really like to mess around with you right now. I gotta think where the hell we could do that."

I say, "How about your garage? That worked last time." He brightens up, "That's a great idea! I can't be expected to think of everything," and he drives us to his house as I'm squirming with anticipation.

Parking in the driveway, Billy reaches over to the storage pouch on the back of the passenger seat. He comes out with a handful of individual Handiwipes packets, then we get out, and I follow him inside the house. He mumbles, "I want to check out what my Mom is up to."

Billy takes hold of my wrist in the kitchen, asking, "Do you hear that?" I'm like, "What?" He says, "The shower. Mom's in the shower. That's perfect; she'll take a half-hour with her hair afterward."

Still holding my wrist, he leads me outside, then pulls the garage door up enough for us to lean over and walk inside. Closing the door, he mumbles, "If Mom had been in the kitchen or living room, I was going to tell her we needed something from the garage."

Then, still holding my wrist, he takes a deep breath, smiles, and goes, "'This weird haircut magic has me hugely psyched to do this for you."

With him pulling on my wrists, we sidestepped junk and old furniture, getting to the corner near the neighbor's side of the garage where we did it last time. Putting his arms around me, he stares into my eyes and goes, "You're gay, aren't you?"

Averting my eyes, I mumble, "No! Um, you know I'm straight, right?"

He mutters, "No, you're not." Smiling, he kisses me, so I start hugging and kissing him back; my eyes closed, I'm moaning with sexual arousal.

Breaking the kiss, Billy murmurs, "Hold your head still." I do that, and he does the licking on my face he likes to do. Lots of saliva across my lips, up the front of my nose, then down my chin, and under it to my neck.

Stopping, he smiles, saying, "Yep, you're my girl/guy, alright. No doubt about that." He pinches my cheek, grinning at me. My cock, heavy and hard as granite, pokes out the front of my shorts, bumping against Billy's hard cock.

He takes another deep breath, then says, "It's okay that you're gay; you can't help it. I'm crazy enough to like you anyway," and he kisses me again. Now he's moaning, pressing his body against mine until he backs me against the garage door.

Then, gasping and stepping back, he says, "Pull your pants down and turn around." My heart's beating fast, my boner throbbing in its hardness as I quickly get my shorts and underwear to my knees, then turn around with my hands on the garage door, pushing out my quivering ass.

Billy's arms go around my stomach, his torso flat against my back, the side of his face against mine. He grinds his hips, his boner moving against my butt cheeks, precum drooling. Breathing in fast short bursts, Billy's hand reaches around and strokes my hard boner, his precum a wet trail across both my butt cheeks. When he lets go of my boner, it sticks straight out, almost touching the garage door, so I move my hand down, bending over a little more.

Billy's boner must be sticking straight out, too, as the head hits my asshole while his arms are around me. Billy murmurs, "Ooh, umm," pressing a little harder, then a little more pressure, and his cock head gets my asshole opening with both of us moaning, "Umm, ooh." When he humps his hard cock's head inside me, I screech out, "OW! Ahh! Oh, ow..." and he brings his right hand up to cover my mouth, then humps his cock inside me another two inches.

The pain swells for a while, but I'm so turned on, so aroused by his eager aggressiveness I almost blow my load. Billy moans a sound of desire as he slowly pushes his boner the rest of the way up my rectum, then stops, gasps, and murmurs, "I'm really sorry that hurt you, Gary."

Turning my face to his, our lips meet, and we kiss as the pain fades. I lick his cheek, "The pain's fading already, Billy. It didn't hurt much. I love you more than I thought anyone could love someone."

He smiles, "This feels so good. Omigod, I might shoot off without even moving my dick."

He does move it, though. As he's pulling it back, I almost scream again, this time at the otherworldly amount of pleasure soaring inside me. Instead of screaming, I shudder, moaning, "Oooooh, oooh," so much saliva is spaying out of my mouth. Pushing my hips back a little more, ensuring my hard boner head doesn't hit against the inside of the garage door, I murmur, "Do it, Billy, please; I love you so much."

He hugs me around my stomach, his boner fully impaling me as he humps against my buttocks, then he pulls his hard cock back again and immediately pushes it back in, but slowly. He does it several times with unbelievably delicious vibrations coming off the nerve endings in my prostate and around my anus.

After the fourth slow thrust, his boner begins going in and back smoothly, then it's, "Slap, slap, slap," sounds of fast hard thrusting with both of us grunting and moaning, his nuts swinging and bumping against the back of my scrotum adding to the incredible sexiness... a sexual pleasure of a lifetime. Our moans and groans are loud enough to be heard outside.

Not for long, though. Like last time, in less than two minutes, I screech into his hand that's covering my mouth, cum streaking from my steel boner splattering so hard against the garage door I feel cum spray coming back, lightly wetting my crotch and thighs.

My entire body feels hot and alive; shivers of pleasure are swarming all over me, making me shudder again, then again. Billy's pressed against my buttocks, humping against me while making a desperate sound in his throat, and then, "AHH!" his climax explodes. I feel a moment of extra warmth in my bowels, then a slippery, sloppy feeling as Billy thrust wildly back and forth with some of his cum squishing between him and my ass cheeks. It was a glorious two minutes or so, a trip around the sun, but over way too quickly.

With a wheezy deep breath, Billy pulls his cock out, his cum running out of my ass to drool under my butt cheek to the back of my nuts, some going down the back of my legs.

Stepping back, he takes a huge deep breath, then mutters, "That was fucking magical." I'm breathing deeply, still bent over with my hands on the garage door.

Sounding out of breath, he says, "Stay there, Gary," and I feel his cock sliding tightly inside me again. I go, "Ooh, umm, Billy," and it's, "Slap, slap, slap," for I don't know how long, but after a while, my cock is another roaringly hard boner.

Billy's hands grip my hips as he fires his cock, hard as wood, back and forth in my ass. It's hard, fast thrusting until I want to scream at how fabulous it feels. Nothing in the world could possibly feel as spectacular as Billy fucking me, um, I mean, Billy messing around with me.

My eyes closed again as my hands got sweaty against the garage door, my body jostled with every hard thrust as the slapping sounds, Billy's grunts of, "Umpt," and my moan of, "Oh!" at every thrust was all I hear; all of it perfect and beautifully going on forever.

Well, not forever as Billy does an extra hard thrust, humps against my buttocks, grunting and lifting his hips. I go up on my toes as we both have a second climax. He says, "Ahhh!" and I squeal, humping my hips so hard that Billy's cock jerks out of my ass.

So many sizzling vibrations, all thick with sexual pleasure, are seemingly screaming all over my body. I hold my breath; my face all scrunched up as I tremble. Then, realizing I need to breathe, I take a gasping, ragged-sounding long inhale, grabbing my dick and squeezing it.

Pushing off the door with my other hand, I turn around and see Billy with his eyes closed, his dick hanging limply with streaks of his cum on most of the five inches. He opens his eyes and says, "What the hell happened?" Then he laughs as he steps back, bumping into an old footstool, sitting down on it, grabbing the windowsill to keep from going over backward.

My hand goes to my backside, my asshole feeling incredibly wide open. I'm sticky with Billy's cum down there. His first cum deposit is still wet, where it drooled between my legs and down the back of them, and his second is still a creamy feeling goo.

Bringing my hand back, I look at the shiny new cum on my fingertips, then look at Billy again and mutter, "That was good. I mean, that was twice as good as, um, as anything."

Sitting on the footstool, he reaches down to the shorts I gave him, now around his ankles, and pulls some packets of Handiwipes from a pocket. Smiling his fantastic smile, he says, "I didn't know I was going to do that. The first one was so quick, though, ya know?"

He tosses me a packet of wipes, then opens one himself as I mumble, "It was truly wonderful."

Ripping open the packet, I reach back and wipe between my legs, adding, "I'm gonna need more than one of these wipes."

Snickering, he uses a wipe on his dick, muttering, "I was fully loaded, bro. I jerked off Monday, but not today. I unloaded some of it when you sucked me off. Ya know, I was saving it all for you."

Nodding, "Thanks. We've had three orgasms in about an hour. That's pretty good. You did me up extra nice today, Billy."

Standing, he pulls up the underpants and shorts I gave him and mutters, "Turn around so I can help you."

He usesthe last three packets of wipes on my ass and legs, then Billy pulls up my underpants, pats my ass, and says, "I told you I was going to take care of you, didn't I?"

Pulling my shorts up, I go, "Yep, you took excellent care of me. I feel great. Thanks, Billy." He shrugs and smiles as I add, "Omigod, I've missed taking it up the ass from you so much."

He mumbles, "Yeah, okay. Pick up those wipes, bro. Let's get out of here and have a cigarette."

As I do that, he mutters, "Damn, though, I needed that. You're spoiling me. Christ, I feel fabulous. I can't even describe how much better it was messing around with you than that animal, Chickie. No 'effing comparision."

He pulls the garage door up; l put the wipes in the trash barrel, then wiped my hand on my shorts. When we sit on the loveseat/swing, I go, "Jeez, sitting with my asshole opened like this feels weird."

Passing me a cigarette, he says, "Yeah, well, my cock was really swollen, so it opened you up pretty good. We'll share this cigarette." I go, "Good, I like sharing everything with you.

He asks, "So, you liked how I did you up today, right?"

Grinning at him, I go, "Absolutely. That was the best ever."

Holding his Bic lighter to the cigarette between my lips, he mutters, "Then stop your whining about your asshole being wide open. You know I don't like whining."

"I'm sorry, I loved that messing around you did." Leaning over, I give him a quick kiss on his cheek, murmuring, "I love being in love with you too."

He pats my leg, "Yeah, I know you do, but watch the whining, okay?"

Nodding, "I'll watch it. Um, can we go back in the garage for some buddying up?"

He makes a face, then mutters, "No."

I lean against his side, then put my arm around him and rest the side of my head on his shoulder. He takes the cigarette from my fingers and inhales, then holds the cigarette to my lips, and I take a drag.

He says, "I like taking care of you, and you need taking care of too. You act immature sometimes, and you don't know the right things to do other times, but you're lucky you've got me to look out for you."

I mumble, "I know I'm lucky." He wistfully murmurs, "I can hardly wait for you to get that apartment so I can take care of you a lot more than I already am."

Every single word he said was music to my ears. I hug around his waist and snuggle tighter, murmuring, "I feel happy and, um, safe and complete when I'm with you."

We smoke the cigarette, taking turns as we would with a joint, Billy holding the wet filter to my lips. I've never been this contented before in my life. It's ecstasy being taken care of by him.

When we hear his mom starting to do things in the kitchen, Billy says, "I'll give you a ride home. Mom's starting to make dinner, and my old man will be home any minute now."

Reluctantly, I stand, putting my hand in my pocket to adjust my boner to the side, and say, "This has been the best afternoon of my life."

He's feeling the bristly hairs at the crown of his head again, mumbling, "Yeah, it's been pretty fucking sweet, alright. Your magical ass and our magical twin haircuts make it possible." I go, "YOU make it possible, Billy."

Smiling his big smile, "Well, yeah, I was being modest, but the other things are big factors too. And, I told you we're perfect together, didn't I?"

Nodding, "Yep, you did, and I couldn't agree with you more."

As we walk to the car, I put my arm across his shoulders, saying, "You make me so happy. Jesus, I can't even express it properly. I can't put into words how much you mean to me."

Smilig at me, he goes, "Okay, so far, and what else?"

Snickering, I murmur, "And I love you so much, um, like life itself." He chuckles, "You never give it a rest, do you?"

It's only a six-block drive, and at my house, he goes, "I'll pick you up around eight o'clock. I need to give you some buddying up tonight."

Omigod, my heart beats fast. He adds, "I had a great time with you this afternoon, and I'm good with my college situation, so we're good to go."

Smiling like mad, I'm like, "Do you mean we're back to our messing around every night?"

He smiles, "Yeah, that's what I mean. Hell, I missed you, Gary. We're partners, messing around partners, the best ever."

He's gay for me and in love with me too. I say, "Thank you again, Billy. Yep, eight o'clock. I can hardly wait."

To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com

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