Invited

Chapter 19

(Weekend At Gary's)

Blowing off the last quarter of the lopsided basketball game on TV, Billy and I go upstairs to prepare for bed. Walking down the hall, I mumble, "This is my first sleepover." He goes, "That's too bad because preteen sleepovers were fun. Me and Joe Dinero used to goose each other until our little dicks got hard." I mutter, "I'm sorry I missed out on that," and we both snicker.

In the bedroom, we strip to our underpants, Billy gets a toiletry kit from his overnight satchel, and we walk to the bathroom with me asking, "We're going to sleep naked, right?"

Billy says, "Yes, of course, but everyone knows that the proper way to clean up in the bathroom before bed is to wear 'effing underpants." I look at him, and he smiles, "Or, one could do it naked, I suppose." He chuckles, "Obviously, I'm kidding, Gary."

We piss standing next to one another at the toilet, this time with my plumbing working from the start. Billy says, "We have twin dicks, but we should probably dye your blond pubic hair, so my dark brown ones don't get an inferiority complex." I go, "That was you kidding again, right?" He shakes the last drip of pee from the head of his dick, mumbling, "That's a correct assumption." Nodding, "I'm beginning to take it for granted, Billy, but I've never felt as comfortable with anyone in my life as I am with you."

Smiling, he pats my shoulder, "After all the time we've spent together the past nine months and all the reinforcements I give you about how much you've come to mean to me, I sure as shit hope you'd feel comfortable around me." Washing our hands, side by side at the sink, I go, "You feel comfortable around everybody, don't you?"

Our hands touch under the faucet as we rinse the soap off. We're looking at ourselves in the mirror over the sink. Billy's smiling, saying, "I get off on us having these identical 'effing haircuts. It's goofy, sure, but I think it's so 'effing cool of us!" Nodding, I go, "Cool of you to realize it would be cool and then get a matching haircut."

He mumbles, "Yeah, but I wish I was as good-looking as you. You're a cute guy." I go, "You have a better profile than I do." Grabbing a hand towel, he mutters, "No, I don't. And, no, I don't feel comfortable with everybody. I have a hidden inferior complex about a few things, but I cover it up, forcing smiles and pretending to be hot shit."

Sharing the lower half of Billy's towel, drying my hands, I ask, "What do you have an inferior complex about?" He pinches my nose, "Don't be so nosy, but I guess I hate being short, for one thing." As I'm putting toothpaste on my toothbrush, Billy asks, "Can I use your toothpaste? I forgot to bring some."

Handing the tube of toothpaste to him, I'm like, "You're not short! Mitch Lobel, now he's short, but you're not. And, I already told you this, but as far as I'm concerned, you're six feet tall." He smiles, "Damn, I love how you idolize me. I never have an inferiority complex when I'm with you."

We brush our teeth, grinning at each other in the mirror. Leaning over the sink, we rinse the toothpaste by cupping our hands under the faucet, the sides of our heads bumping as we spit out the water. Holding up the bottle, I ask, "Do you want to use this gross mouthwash?" He shakes his head, "No thanks," and I go, "I don't either."

Leaving his toiletry kit on the counter next to the sink, Billy takes my hand, smiles, and says, "Come on, boyfriend, your guy is going to take care of you with some awesome messing around." Squeezing his hand, I murmur, "I love you so much I can't put it into words." Grinning, he mumbles, "I know you do."

Then he squeezes my hand. Smiling and looking mischievous, he goes, "And I L-word you too." We both laugh, and I mutter, "It's not an especially hard word to say."

In the bedroom, as we step out of our underpants, Billy's jockey-style underpants and my boxer-style, I ask, "Lights on or off?" He shrugs, "I don't care," so I turn off the overhead light and leave the dim light on the bedstand. As we get in bed, I ask, "Can I suck a boner on you?" He reaches for a condom packet, "That would be delightful." I mutter, "Delightful," and push the covers to his feet.

On my knees, leaning over, I flatten his pubic hair with my hand, push his dick over with my nose, then do a long lick on his unusually-round scrotum. He smells like the unnecessarily large amount of bath gel we used earlier bathing, almost the whole 'effing bottle. Billy squirms a little getting comfortable, his hands behind his head and his legs spread wide.

I'm pressing my tongue on his scrotum hard enough that I feel his balls moving around in there. That's cool, then I lick under his balls near his asshole, which also smells like the over-usage of bath gel. That's no surprise as I remember my hand filled with soap rubbing his asshole clean enough to lick in case he wants me to do that.

Licking up the inside of his slender thigh, I pick up his penis and suck on the head. Billy's hands go to my head, the head on my shoulders, as he moans, "Mmm, mmm."

There's a nice bulbous head on his dick, and, thinking about Billy shaking the last drop of pee off it, I poke the tip of my tongue at the piss slit, tasting a faint bit of urine.

Sucking on the head, my tongue swirls around it until his dick gets firm, then hard, and I go down on it three times. Down on it until my nose pokes his belly. When I start going down on it a fourth time, Billy's gently pushing at my head, mumbling, "That's good, Gary, umm, yeah, that's good." Reluctantly, I let his boner slip out of my mouth, my lips tight on it all the way out.

I'm on my knees with a big grin, watching Billy holding up the condom packet. He snickers, "You've gotten terrific doing that, boyfriend. Now I want to do your ass up good." I pull on my dick which is almost a boner, saying, "I get aroused, sucking your penis and balls."

Sitting up as he rips the packet, he says, "I'm going to wear this condom. That way, you won't leak spunk out of your ass all night." I go, "No, I like feeling your bare boner inside me." He makes a face, "It's not as if you can tell the difference." I mumble, "Psychologically; I can." He lets out a long exasperating-sounding breath and says, "Okay, have it your way," and adds, "As usual."

Flopping on my back, I pull my legs back, saying, "I'm anxiously ready. For the record, though, I do not always have my way." He's wiping lubricant from the condom up and down his dick, muttering, "Of course, you don't. Ha!"

Smiling, he reaches over, rubs lubricant on my anus, and then pushes a finger inside me. Leaving it there as I squirm, he goes, "I'm the guy, so it's my responsibility to take care of my cuter than shit girl/guy boyfriend, as you insist on calling yourself." Snickering, "That feels good," he rubs my prostate, making me squirm even more as he chuckles, then pulls his finger out and holds it up.

I reach over and pull out two Kleenex from the box on the bedside table and give the tissue to Billy. He mutters, "Thanks," and wipes his finger, saying, "We're going to get cum on these clean sheets. You know that, right?" "So what? I'll do a wash load tomorrow morning."

As he moves between my legs, he asks, "What are you cooking for our breakfast in the morning?" I go, "How about frozen pizza?" and we both chuckle. Then he smacks my ass, "You're getting mighty feisty lately." I go, "That's because I'm incredibly comfortable with you. I already told you that."

Leaning over me, he puts the condom and its wrapper on the bedside table, then rubs my head, seriously saying, "Don't change too much; I'm kind of into the trying-hard-to-please version of Gary Wallingford."

I'm like, "I haven't changed," and he puts a hand on each of my legs, spreading them further, murmuring, "Hold your legs back more," then, looking me in the eyes, "Yes, you've changed, but so far it's been fine. I'm just saying that there's no need for you to try being a wiseass like me." Nodding, I murmur, "Okay, I won't."

It would be a big mistake for me to begin acting like those dumbasses Billy messed around with in high school. Maybe I have been acting too comfortable and less in my girl/guy persona that he likes.

Pushing the back of my thighs and raising my asshole, Billy says, "I haven't hurt your feelings, have I? I didn't mean to." I go, "No, I'm good. I was kidding around." Smiling, he goes, "You're awesome. I shouldn't have said anything. It's nothing; you're okay." I nod, "Oh, thanks."

With his left hand above my right butt cheek, his right guides his boner head to my asshole and, with a quiet, "Ah," he plugs it in past my sphincter. I gasp, "Oh!" and hold my breath. Only for a few seconds, though, because it barely hurt at all. Our eyes meet, and he smiles, "We good, babe?" Nodding my head, "Better than good."

I feel the head of his dick getting bigger as he tightly pushes it inside my rectum, stimulating the nerve endings on my prostate gland and the tight lips of my anus. I shiver with pleasure. Jesus, how can anything feel this good?

Billy must be right when he says my rectum is a miracle, one in a million, because if everyone had an ass like mine, nothing would get done in the world as everybody would be taking it up their ass.

When his boner is snugly impaling me, Billy shudders and mumbles, "So tight but just right. Umm, this feels stupidly good." I nod again, "Uh-huh, do it, Billy." He likes to savor the pleasure while I'm greedy for more vigorous messing around.

Humping against my butt cheeks a few times, his hands at my waist, he murmurs, "Ready, Gary?" "I'm always ready to do this messing around with you, Billy." Smiling, he goes, "You're fantastic for my ego."

He pulls his engorged penis back slowly as I moan, "Umm, umm." Then, without hesitation, he pushes it back inside me, and my back arches off the bed as I moan louder, "Yes, umm, Billy, feels so good."

It's maybe three minutes of these almost torturously slow penetrations. Almost torturous because they're like a preview of what I know is coming when Billy's climax alarm goes off, and he gets carried away racing to the finish line. That's when volcanos erupt, and worlds collide, so this slow, 'almost torturous' messing around is a prelude to that, and I'm anxious to experience that.

He's getting there as he picks up the speed of his thrusting, still long five-inch thrusting, though. Still, it's a few minutes of pure ecstasy. There's quiet moaning of deep contentment, experiencing extreme pleasure from our shared messing around, Billy murmuring, "This is 'effing unbelievably good. And it gets better and better the more often we get to mess around."

Then, as I knew it would, it gets even better when his climax switch switches, and Billy gasps and begins thrusting much faster and harder until he starts making desperate little squeaking sounds and turns on the afterburners. Shorter, harder, more rapid thrusts that initiate the sounds of males fucking. The "Slap, slap, slap" sounds ring out in the room, and "Oh, oh, oh," as sensations of pleasure fine-tuned over a billion years have us in its grip.

Well, the fine-tuning wasn't intended for our type of messing around. I know that, but I need to ask, why all the pleasure nerve endings in the anus then, especially the prostate gland?

Never mind that, though. Now it's all about Billy's frantic run to the finish line, grunting and humping his hips, wildly driving his hard as a stone sex organ in my supersensitized and extremely receptive rectum. "Slap, slap, slap."

Then the king of messing around, orgasmic climax, comes busting onto the scene and, with me bouncing on the mattress holding my breath, my body stiff as a board, it happens. BOOM, cum roars up from my nuts to blow out my iron dick, splattering up my chest, some reaching my neck, "Eieee, Billy!"

With supersonic vibrations of pleasure steaking all over me, I try catching my breath. It's an almost painful pleasure that immediately fades, leaving me limp and breathless. Shuddering one last time, I take a deep breath and stretch out my legs, my feet hitting something, my buttocks wet and sticky. Billy's dick isn't in me anymore. Huh, I didn't know he blew his load too.

Oh, there he is. Billy's lying sideways at the foot of the bed, holding his pecker. He's what my feet hit. His chest is rising and falling as he takes deep breaths. Wiggling my toes against his side, he looks at me smiling; then mutters, "That was good, huh?" Nodding, I grin, "Perhaps good is a bit of an understatement. The word fantastic occurs to me."

Sitting up, Billy crawls over and lies next to me on his stomach, "I think I blew off two seconds before you. It was special. You must have had an even better climax, though, because you screeched out like a banshee. Sort of startled me." I go, "I did not scream out like an 'effing banshee. I did an appropriate exclamation squeal, especially considering I thought my nuts exploded." Shrugging, he mutters, "Sounded like a banshee who maybe just stepped into a steel trap or something."

Chuckling, I go, "Well, I did have a fairly enjoyable orgasm. Yeah, you did an okay job for your girl/guy. I faked that banshee squeal to make you feel good." Sitting up against the headboard, a pillow behind him, Billy goes, "Uh-huh. That was nice of you. Come on, sit with me." He holds his arm out, inviting me to snuggle against him, which I do, grinning and saying, "You did a lot better than okay."

Squeezing his arm around me, he mutters, "I know," and he kisses the side of my face. Then, rubbing a finger in the spunk on my chest, he says, "I told you we'd have cum on us and the sheets, didn't I?" Putting my arm across his stomach, I hug him, "I love you so much, Billy." He says, "Me too, but you're getting your spunk on me." I mutter, "It'll dry. Tell me some science stuff."

He musses my hair and says, "Coincidentally, I did read some shocking shit about Hummingbirds." I go, "Hummingbirds?" "Yes, they're the smallest birds in the world, some species only three inches long from the tip of their beak to the tip of their tail, weighing only an ounce or two, but they can do amazing things."

I'm like, "What amazing things?" "The Rufous Hummingbirds, for example, fly 3000 miles every year from Alaska to Canada or even Mexico. The Ruby-throated Hummingbirds fly non-stop for 500 miles to cross the Gulf of Mexico. "

Rolling my eyes, I mumble, "Are you sure about this? How the fuck could a one-ounce bird fly anywhere in, say, a windy day?" He says, "I don't 'effing know! I'm just reporting the facts." Shaking my head, I mutter, "Sounds impossible."

He makes another one of his exasperating-sounding exhales, muttering, "Why do I bother telling you anything? Anyway, we need to clean up and see what we can do about wiping our mess off the sheets before going to sleep. Come on, let's get to it." I groan, "You're such a neat nick, but you're the boss."

Naked, going down the hall to the bathroom, I'm like, "Billy, I don't doubt that you read that Hummingbird stuff somewhere, but don't you agree it sounds impossible that a one-ounce bird could fly 3000 miles?" He says, "Yes, but I got to believe it's true. Plus, they don't fly in flocks. Each Hummingbird is on its own, flying as much as twenty-three miles daily." Snorting a laugh, I mutter, "Okay, okay, even though doesn't seem remotely possible."

Wetting washcloths, we clean up; Billy's cleaning his dick, snickering, and then mumbling, "It does sound impossible. I can't argue with you about that, but it's an 'effing fact." I'm wiping cum off my chest and belly, then reaching behind to wipe lube and Billy's cum off my buttocks.

Drying, Billy asks, "Is your ass itching?" Shaking my head, "No, not this time, but I wouldn't mind if you'd put your finger up there just the same." We chuckle as Billy carries a damp washcloth back to the bedroom as I ask, "You're not mad at me, are you?" He shrugs, "A little bit, yeah. You ask me for something interesting and then don't believe what I tell you." Bumping against his side, I go, "I believe you read it."

In the bedroom, Billy wipes at the lube and cum spot where I was sitting, muttering, "We'll sleep on the other side, and I'm definitely wearing a condom in the morning." Oh boy, he's already thinking about messing around in the morning!

I rub his shoulder, "You were right, Billy; we should use a condom when messing around in bed." Patting my ass, "You need to listen to me and do what I say. And, um, I wasn't mad at you. I was kidding again when I said I was." I go, "I knew that," and he hugs me, the damp washcloth hitting my back, "If I'm too bossy with you Gary, sorry."

He lets go of me, and I'm like, "You're not, but it's nice that we're always saying sorry to one another." Getting in bed, Billy ignores that and says, "Fortunately, I was near the edge of the mattress when you sat next to me, so we have more than half the mattress avoiding that wet spot I just cleaned." I murmur, "I guess I'll need to snuggle tighter than ever going to sleep."

Snickering, Billy murmurs, "Snuggling tightly against me is nothing new for you," and he gets in bed with me right next to him. He goes, "Our first night sleeping together," and, with both of us lying together sharing a pillow, he wraps his arms around me. I snuggle half on him with a leg between his, murmuring, "Another dream comes true for me."

He feels and smells so nice; I kiss his cheek. He turns his head for a kiss on the lips, then murmurs, "I'm wicked tired, Gary, are you?" I nod, "Uh-huh, exhausted," and that's the last words spoken before falling asleep.

Saturday morning, my eyes open, and I see Billy, lying on his stomach, looking at me. We separated during the night, but not by much. I'm on my back, so I reach over to rub his belly, asking, "What time is it?" He smiles, "You look like you're fifteen years old when you're sleeping. I've got a cute motherfucker of a boyfriend."

I go, "Yeah? Well, I've got the best guy boyfriend ever!" Looking at his wristwatch, he mutters, "It's ten of ten. We slept our asses off. This is a great bed you got here, Gary." Lifting onto my side, I come down against him, my arm going over his stomach as I mutter, "You let go of me during the night." He smiles, "Not on purpose. Sleeping together was as fun and sexy as I thought it would be."

Murmuring, "Yeah, it was," I crawl on top of him, "I love you, Billy," and we kiss. He goes, "Ha! I knew you wouldn't have morning breath, do I?" Shaking my head, "Nope, we're too perfect together to have nasty morning breath." I hold his head between my hands and kiss him the way I think lovers are supposed to kiss.

Ha, it worked too because we've both got boners, twin boners. Reaching for a condom packet, Billy murmurs, "My first-ever morning messing around." I mutter, "Our first-ever morning messing around." Ripping open the condom packet, he says, "How about if you turn over and push that cute ass up."

Doing that, I kick the covers to the foot of the bed and he mutters, "I want to get in the habit of wearing a condom in bed." I watch Billy roll the condom on his five-inch steel rod. He has an excellent size penis for messing around, but I can't help but wonder what a huge penis would feel like, for example, Rick Myer's dick. Whoa, his big hunk of dick is heavy-looking, long, and thick, barely moving in its heaviness as he swaggered around the locker room showers mouthing off obnoxiously.

With his hard condom-encased penis bouncing, Billy walks on his knees behind me, mumbling, "We could put a hand towel or washcloth under you to absorb your gooey stuff when you shoot off, except you're washing these sheets, so why bother with that this time?" I mutter, "Towels too."

That thought about Rick Myer's penis evaporated when Billy pushed his perfect condom-covered boner inside my ass. "Ooh! Billy, umm," and he mutters, "Sorry. Did that hurt?" I grunt, "A little, not much." He murmurs, "I'm a little bit anxious, ya know?" I go, "It feels good already."

Steadily pushing his five-inch boner up my ass, Billy moans a long, "Mmmmm," until he's flat against my buttocks. Humping against my cute ass, he snickers and says, "The perfect way to start a day, huh, Gary?"

Oh, God, it feels so good. I murmur, "Perfect," and he humps against my buttocks, his hands gripping my hips.

He makes the usual slow withdrawal and then pushes his hard dick back in, but unlike other times, Billy keeps doing it very slowly, obviously liking how it feels. It feels wonderful to me, too but these constant unbelievably pleasurable sensations going on for seven or eight minutes put me into a sort of hypnotic trance the way you can put a dog in a hypnotic trance by rubbing its stomach. Like the dog, I'm limp in a docile dreamy frame of mind, quietly moaning, "Umm, umm, umm." Well, the dog probably doesn't moan.

It's the kind of experience where I lose track of time as if time doesn't exist. Billy won't be able to resist revving things up pretty soon, though. That's because there is only so much stimulation one can endure from the pleasure nerve ending in the male penis. The glans or head contains up to 4000 nerve endings. It could have been much better too, except, unfortunately, circumcision removed the most important sensory component of the foreskin, losing up to 20,000 nerve endings, which, if we had any say in the matter, would never have happened.

Still, as I said, there are plenty of pleasure nerve endings in the penis head, not to mention the shaft. As for my rectum, the sphincter muscles, anus, and especially the prostate gland are packed with nerve endings. They can react painfully too, but it's their pleasure component that we're deeply into when messing around like this.

Billy abandons his dreamy slow trance-inducing messing around, thrusting faster now and, like Wrigley's Doublemint gum, faster thrusting doubles the pleasure. Soon, my face scrunches up as I moan, "Um, um, um, oh, Billy, umm. Yes, umm." He grunts, his fingers digging into my hips, and the slapping sounds are heard again.

Shorter, harder, faster, "Slap, slap, slap," until sensations of intense pleasure are almost too much to comprehend, and then, "Eeeeiii. ahh!" my climax explodes with cum sizzling from my stone-hard dick, the stream skimming the sheet to splatter under my chin. Shuddering and shaking, I reach under to grab my pecker and squeeze, moaning, "Mumm, ooh." Then shake again as a zipping shiver of after-effects makes me gasp and moan, "Ahh, oh, God, that was awesome."

My ass has dropped some, Billy's dick still in it, then his dick pulls out as he groans, "Oh fuck, that was perfect." He pulls the condom off and, holding it away from us, flops next to me, asking, "How'd I do this morning, Gary? Did I do you up good?"

Letting go of my dick, I lie in my cum shot, grinning at him, murmuring, "Yeah, you sure know how to take care of your girl/guy boyfriend. I can't begin to tell you how much I loved our first-time morning messing around together." He goes, "Try," and we both snicker.

Putting his arm across my back, he says, "As I told you before, I've top messing around before hooking up with you, but it never was one-tenth as good as it is with you. It starts with your rectum, of course, and I know I keep babbling about that, but it's fantastic. So is the rest of you, for that matter." I nod, and he asks, "Um, so how'd my dick work for you?"

Oh, he wants more compliments about his fabulous messing around. I go, "Marvelous! We were made for each other, but, as I said, I don't have words to do justice to how fantastic you're messing around with me is." He goes, "Um, do you think anyone could do it better?"

Ilie on him more and he mutters, "You're smearing your cum on me." I'm like, "Sorry. Ah, no, nobody could possibly do it as good as you. I'm never messing around with anybody else. Only with you, Billy. I'm going to be your girl/guy forever."

Smiling, he hugs his arms around my neck, the gooey cum sticky between us. He kisses me on the mouth, "That's my boy!" I mumble, "Who you love, right?" He goes, "You're crazy about the L-word, aren't you?"

With my head on his shoulder, my arm squeezes his side, "I'm crazy about the word love only where you're concerned. I never say the L-word when I'm not with you. Sure, I love my parents, but not the way I love you. I couldn't possibly love anything or anyone as much as I love you."

He rubs his fingers in my hair, murmuring, "Well, ha-ha, I admit I never get tired of hearing that. It's good for my self-image or something." He's still holding the condom away from us, so I finally ask, "Do you want me to get rid of that for you?" He says, "No, I'll flush it. Come on; we need a shower."

In the bathroom, he drops the condom into the toilet, then we take a piss side by side, giggling as we move the condom around with our piss streams like little kids.

Getting a new bottle of bath gel, I put it on the shower shelf. Then, in the shower together, I hang on to Billy, hugging and grinning until he says, "That's enough. You wash me, and then I'll return the favor." I get the bath gel and pour some on my hand, mumbling, "It's a good thing you insisted I stop hanging on you because I would have hugged you until the water ran cold."

He mutters, "No shit. Hey, you should shampoo my hair first. You don't wash your body and then shampoo, do you? The dirty shampoo rinse will run over your clean body." I go, "I didn't know there were rules about that."

Smiling, he says, "Another rule is you use a washcloth to wash your ass last. You do not wash your ass and then your face. Everybody knows that, for Christ's sake. It's a damn lucky thing you hooked up with me, or God only knows how you'd make it in the long run."

We're snickering and having fun. Everything is fun with him.

After rinsing the bath gel off my hand, I shampoo his hair and then bathe him using my hands as washcloths. There is nothing except sexy messing around I can think of that is as wonderful as rubbing my hands over Billy's slick wet body. God, he feels fantastic. Working my way down his body, I spring a boner washing his gentiles. Why not give him one? I stroke his dick into a roaring hard boner feeling dizzy with arousal, my eyes are half-closed as I stroke, stroke, stroke his bone-hard cock.

Billy makes little grunting sounds but does not push my hand away. He has his hands on my shoulders as I feel his dick expand, and then he bends, grunting when out shoots a little plop of cum.

"Oh, fuck, Gary. Haha, that was a young teenager's sleepover move if I ever saw one. You'd have been fun to have a sleepover with as a kid." I say, "We're still kids at heart, and we're having a sleepover right now." He goes, "You're right. I think your immaturity is rubbing off on me 'cause I want to do that for you too. Put some bath gel in my hand."

I squirt some in his hand, and he grabs my dick, smiling like mad, muttering, "Here we go," and he strokes my dick. I go, "Holy shit," and hold onto his shoulders. Then he lets go of my dick, "Turn around, Gary." When I turn, he reaches around me and gets my dick in his fist, saying, "This feels more natural to me. It's almost as if I'm whacking myself off."

He has his left arm around me as he strokes my dick with his right, and does it ever feel good! It feels better than when I jerk myself off. It's not long before I'm like, "Ah, ahh, ahh!" my hips hump forward as a small substance shoots out from my hard dick. Billy laughs, "That was cool!" I go, "Oh, jeez, did you see how little that cum shot was? It felt fantastic, though."

Billy mutters, "Well, we blew our big loads twenty minutes ago. If we weren't so young, we probably couldn't get a hardon this soon, never mind a climax." I shrug, "It felt awesome; that's all I care about." He says, "It was fun, but finish bathing me now, babe."

Mumbling, "I already bathed you down to your waist. Facing him, I pour a lot of gel in my hand, then reach around and wipe up and down his ass crack. He snickers and puts his arms around my neck. I mumble, "I want to keep this ass of yours clean for when you want me to do the rimming thing." He goes, "You are a fabulous boyfriend. I'll let you rim my ass after breakfast." I mutter, "You're too good to me." He laughs, "You brought it up."

After bathing his hard buttocks, I get on my knees and wrap both hands, overflowing with the bath gel, down one leg, then the other. Billy's holding onto my head as he lifts his right foot, and I rub my hands over it, getting a finger between his toes. Then, holding his foot out, so it gets raised off, I lick his foot, then suck on his toes. He goes, "You can do that after breakfast too." I mutter, "I'd like to eat you for breakfast."

After finishing with his other leg and foot, I stood, and he said, "My turn," and started right in with shampooing my hair. Oh, Jesus, I don't know which I like better; bathing Billy with my hands or him bathing me with his. This weekend is turning out better than I even fantasized about.

We finally finish showering, and as we step out of the tub, Billy says, "That was a cool activity, huh, Gary?" Nodding, I mumble, "I've never felt so clean. Well, after our bath last night too."

After drying, we brush our teeth. Then, smiling, Billy insists he'll comb my hair. I stand here, grinning at how stupid it is, then we get dressed. It's noon when we're in the kitchen, Billy at the table Googling things on his phone and drinking a mug of coffee while I'm making toast and scrambled eggs for a late breakfast. I say, "It stopped snowing last night, but it looks like it accumulated eighteen inches on the driveway."

Ignoring that, he mumbles, "It says here the largest seasonal snowfall on record was 1,140 inches in Mount Baker, Washington State." I'm like, "After college, let's not live there." He mutters, "No shit." The significance of that response from Billy, as far as I'm concerned, is he didn't object to us living together after college. Whoopee!

Billy puts lots of ketchup on his scrambled eggs and lots of grape jelly on his toast. He eats properly, with his mouth closed. I watch him doing it as he stays glued to his phone, memorizing what he thinks are interesting facts he's found on Google. Swallowing the last of his eggs, he glances up and smiles, saying, "I could feel you staring at me." I shrug, "You're my favorite thing to stare at." Grinning, he nods, "Go ahead, keep idolizing the shit out of me. I like it."

At Billy's insistence, we watch the one o'clock 76ers game on TV. At my insistence, we watch it on the sofa with Billy's arm around me. The 76ers beat the Knicks by one point, we give a little cheer for the team, then I make cheeseburgers for a late lunch.

Billy says, "We can eat any time we feel like this weekend. What are we having for supper?" "Spaghetti and meatballs that Mom made." Finishing his cheeseburger, he says, "Yum. Let's shovel out your mom's car now. We might want to go someplace later."

Nodding, I clean up our lunch mess because Billy's a neat nick and would insist on it anyway, then we put on our coats, hats, and gloves. Outside, we smoke cigarettes leaning against the railing of our small back porch. Looking around, I mumble, "It's a nice bright sunny winter day and not wicked cold at all."

Exhaling smoke, he says, "You don't inhale, do you?" Looking at the cigarette I'm holding between my thumb and forefinger, the way he has his cigarette, I go, "Yeah, I inhale! Not always, but sometimes I do." He smiles, "I'm a bad influence on you. All my nasty habits of drinking vodka screwdrivers, smoking joints, and Marlboro cigarettes. Ya know you don't need to do everything I do."

Inhaling off my cigarette and almost coughing, I mutter, "I like doing everything you do." He grins and rubs my head, knocking my hat off, "You're fun, Gary." He picks up my hat and puts it on my head as I grin at him and think he's the coolest, most exciting person in the world.

Adjusting my hat, I say, "Now you'll need to comb my hair again." He snickers and I hold my finger up, asking, "Do you hear that, Billy?" He says, "Do you mean the sound of a snowblower?" Nodding, "Yep, that's my next-door neighbor, old man Myers. He has a power mower for cutting his grass and a snowblower for the snow. We have one snow shovel and a push mower."

Billy shrugs, "We'll borrow old man Myers' snowblower." I say, "That's what my Dad did for last year's big storm." Billy flicks his cigarette butt to the middle of the yard, so I flick my butt too.

I get the snow shovel from the garage, and Billy takes it, "I'll shovel first, Gary." With me watching, he shovels off the porch, then shovels a path to the driveway, and starts shoveling the driveway. I say, "Billy, Mr. Myers has finished plowing his driveway. I'll ask him if I can borrow the snowblower now."

Leaning on the shovel, he says, "Good plan." We both walk over and see Mr. Myers using a snow shovel to make a path to their back porch. I say, "Hello, Mr. Myers, I'm Gary..." He interrupts, "I know who you are, son. We've lived next to each other for eight years. Who's your friend?"

Billy says, "I'm William Underwood, sir, and if Gary can borrow your snowblower, I'll shovel the walk to your porch and then shovel the porch off for you as well." Mr. Myers smiles, "There's a deal I can't pass up. The snowblower has plenty of gas. Put it in my garage at the back when you're through." Offering the shovel to Billy, Mr. Myers says, "Now, I'm going inside for a hot chocolate with whipped cream on top."

Billy and I look at one another as Mr. Myers smiles, mumbling, "Not really," and walks through the snow to his porch, up the steps, and disappears inside his house. Billy mutters, "Who can figure our old people?" I'm like, "Not me. You can use the snowblower. It's my turn to do the shoveling." He smiles brightly, "This will be cool."

By the time I do a meticulous job of shoveling a path to Mr. Myers' porch, clearing off the snow down to the flagstone, I shovel the snow off his porch. As I finish the last of that, Billy's bringing the rumbling-sounding snowblower back. He shouts, "Damn, that was fun. I wish Dad would buy one of these babies."

He runs the snowblower to the back of the garage, and I put the shovel next to it. Walking back to my house, Billy says, "We still need to dig your car out. The town's snowplows pushed the snow from the street against all the cars parked at the curb." I mutter, "That always happens. We only have a one-car garage, so Mom's car gets parked at the curb."

We take turns shoveling out the car, then smoke another Marlboro walking down the driveway. Billy did a damn good job of snow blowing the driveway down to the blacktop. He exhales smoke, then says, "I blew the snow toward the street, then over onto your front lawn. Some of that deep pile of snow will probably still be there Easter Sunday."

It's almost five o'clock by now, and starting to get dark. Inside, I ask, "Who shoveled the snow off your driveway today?" Chuckling, he goes, "I'm not sure, but I know who didn't. My old man didn't because he has a back problem. He probably paid the kid down the street, Timmy Bigelow, who has a snowblower and knocks on doors asking if people want to hire him."

I take off our coats and say, "Time is flying by this weekend. I want it to slow the 'eff down." Billy smiles his beautiful smile and asks, "Do you want to mess around a little?" I'm like, "In bed?" He nods, "Yeah, in bed. I'll let you rim my ass and suck me off." I mumble what I said earlier, "You're too good to me," and he gets his arm around my neck, pulling my head over and kissing me. My arms go around him, "Who would ever have thought shoveling snow could be fun. With you, it is, Billy."

Leaving his arm around my neck, we go upstairs with him saying, "Jesus, I never expected to be idolized and worshipped this much." I go, "And loved too! Don't forget that." He snickers, "How the hell could I forget that when you tell me every 'effing two minutes." My arm hugs him around his waist, "We're the two most perfect boyfriends ever!" He mutters, "We might be. Yeah, that's a possibility."

In my bedroom, he says, "You still need to do the wash." Damn, I forgot about that. I say, "Well, yeah, I was planning on doing it after our messing around." He nods, "That makes good sense, Gary. There will be some mess on the already messy sheets. I'm pretty sure about that."

As soon as we're undressed, I hug him again, murmuring, "Seriously, all kidding aside, I love you so much it hurts my heart. You're the most perfect boyfriend a girl/guy could ever have."

Our arms around each other, he looks serious, "Look, I know what you mean by the girl/guy horseshit and, sure, it's established that I'm the top guy and all that, but it sounds like you're putting yourself down when you call yourself my girl/guy boyfriend. Hell, I've admitted that you've been right all along that we're gay boyfriends. I had a hard time admitting it to myself at first, but I finally gave in and admitted it. So to me, Gary, you're my guy/guy boyfriend. Fuck the girl part; it's not necessary."

I mumble, "But I like being your girl/guy boyfriend. You're my hero and my idol. You've changed my life, making it spectacular as compared to what it was before. I'm so glad we walked those four-miles home from high school and shared a Butterscotch Krimpet."

Smiling, he says, "Christ, that was random, wasn't it? And that reminds me, I wanted to mess around with you that day when we got to your house, but you blew me off." "Really? That must have been because I didn't hear a firm invitation." He goes, "Yeah, it was an, um, invitation, as you put it." "Damn, Billy, I hate that I missed my chance that time, but you gave me another one."

Letting go of one another, he mutters, "Well, all that is water under the bridge, or over the damn, or whatever. Let's get in bed."

In bed, I'm all over him again. We make out kissing like lovers, slowly and deliberately, me mostly on top of him. Taking a break, breathing hard, he rubs his fingers through my hair, murmuring, "You changed my life too, Gary. I didn't know I was gay. I mean, I know messing around with guys is kind of gay, but I honestly didn't think I was. I knew you were gay, though. Probably before you knew it."

Resting my forehead on his shoulder, the sides of our faces touching, I murmur, "I've had a strong suspicion I was gay for a few years now, but I had no inkling you were gay until we smoked pot that time at your house."

He continues running his fingers through my hair, murmuring, "You make being gay almost worth the disappointment I sometimes feel for being like this. You know, I think I'd rather be straight, but then I'd miss messing with you. I'd miss you idolizing me for sure, heh-heh." I go, "You're joking about it, but you deserve being idolized. I'm thrilled to be gay because I get to be with you like this. I think I'd die if I couldn't be with you."

Billy murmurs, "Don't say that. We don't know what the future holds for either of us." Moving my head, I kiss his cheek, "My love for you is an obsession, Billy. I can never get enough of how you smell, feel, taste, look, and sound. I love listening to your voice and watching you eat, smile, and, you know, everything you do; you're perfect."

Squeezing the back of my neck, giving me shivers, he says, "Wow! That was pretty Goddamn sweet of you. Not that I can disagree with any of it." We snicker, "It's all true, Billy."

We lie together like this for a minute, then Billy mumbles, "Do you want to do some messing around now?" Lifting my head, "Do you mean the rimming thing?" He mutters, "Whatever you want to do." Getting on my knees, "Yep, I want to do that rimming thing and then suck your twin dick." "Okay, do it, babe. I'd like that a lot."

On his back, he pulls his legs toward him, and I get on my elbows and kiss his ass. Haha, kiss each buttock and lick both sides. Billy laughs, muttering, "You goof. You don't need to kiss my ass." Snickering, I mumble, "I'm figuratively kissing your ass most of the time anyway, so..."

Spreading his butt cheeks, I lick right over his asshole, then do it a few times more before pressing my tongue on it for four or five seconds, Billy squirming on the bed, grunting, "Damn, that feels funny but good too."

Poking at his tight anus with my tongue to loosen it up, but still can't get the tip of my tongue inside. I make a mental note to see if Google explains how to do this properly, then lick it a few more times before licking the inside of his leg. Every place I lick tastes the same; the same neutral taste with maybe a slight lingering flavor of bath gel.

I want to do this before he baths. I lick under his scrotum, up the side of it, and over to the base of his penis. Wow, I like sucking Billy's penis best next to taking it up my ass; that will always be number one to me.

As soon as I put the head of his penis in my mouth, my dick begins to firm up and buzz like it's vibrating. Stroking his dick's shaft, I suck on the head feeling his dick firming up quickly. He murmurs, "Jesus, I like it when you do this," He rubs my head and gently humps his hips, grunting and squirming on the bed.

His penis gets firmer, then hard and I go down on it as I squeeze my boner. My lips are tight around his hard cock as I go up and down on it. He groans, "Oh, God, umm, umm." Taking my hand off my dick, I lightly squeeze his nuts while tightly bobbing up and down, sucking my boyfriend's hard-as-stone cock.

I feel an orgasm creeping up on me at the same time I feel the head of Billy's boner getting larger. He arches his back, pushing his groin at my face, groaning, "Oh, oh, oh! Aaah!" and blows his load of creamy cum in my mouth. My hand goes back to my roaringly hard dick; I stroke it twice and shoot off my creamy load, trying not to bite Billy's dick as I make a gasping noise, then move his cock to safety.

Taking it from my mouth, a string of his cum stretches from my mouth to the head of his cock. The cum string breaks off to drift down my chin as we both take deep breaths. I've got cum on my chin, and there's a glob of my cum on Billy's left butt cheek that I wipe with my hand, muttering, "Sorry."

Billy stretches his legs out on either side of me, as I wipe my mouth and then lie on his naked body, hugging him. He rubs my back, takes a deep breath, and says, "Holy shit, that was a fast climax."

Inching up his body until my head is over his, I grin, "Want a taste?" He smiles and wipes my chin with his fingers, muttering, "Nah, I've tasted my sperm about four years ago. Curious, ya know?" I say, "Hug me, Billy." He hugs me and kisses my cheek.

Limply lying on him, I sigh and murmur, "Maybe I should rent the apartment before starting college so I can be with you like this all the time." He mumbles, "It'll probably shorten our lives, but it is tempting. Same old problem though, Gsary. How woulkd I explain lioving with you to my parents?""

After rubbing my chin on the pillowcase, I say, "Yeah, I know, but never once in my life did I imagine I could love and adore anyone the way I do you. It's the most fabulous and, simultaneously, sort of scary situation."

He murmurs, "I know what you mean. I don't say much about it, but I feel the same about you. And, yeah, it's scary, all right but I can't get enough of how you're so dependent on me, and idolize me. Ya know, to be loved the way you love me is addictive like an 'effing drug; a strong 'effing drug."

I lift my head to look into his eyes, "I can't help myself, Billy. You're perfect; everything about you is perfect." He gently rolls me off, mumbling, "No, I'm not. I'm far from perfect, but I'm glad you think I am. Neither of us is perfect although we seem to be perfect for one another. I'll give you that. Let's clean up, and then I'll help you do the wash."

Getting off the bed, I mumble, "Yeah, we only have two sets of sheets for my double bed. Mom and Dad have three sets of sheets for their queen-size bed." Billy grins, "That's TMI, babe. I don't want to think about your parent's bed."

Going down the hall hand-in-hand, naked again, I mumble, "Just saying."

To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com

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