Olivers Adventures

OLIVER'S ADVENTURES

Chapter 23 (More Frankie)

by Donny Mumford

Well that certainly was an adventurous trip to Alexander's. Jeez, right from the start with Anthony coming on to me after my haircut, and then Alexander's sexiness followed by his goofy Batman and Robin craziness with the poppers at his gay private club, and then me stupidly volunteering to be auctioned to the highest bidder in the silent auction. That would have been enough of an adventure right there, but oh no, that was followed up with me and Spunky getting sexy together, then me missing my ride with Alexander that led to Bobby and me getting laid a couple of times, and for the all-time topper of any adventure, an hour ago the three-way with the North twins, Nathan and Noah. I've had enough sex to satisfy me until next Thanksgiving. Yeah, except that kid in the convenience store peeked my interest; something sexy about that kid. My Mini Cooper is running great and it's fun to drive it; I always feel kinda cool driving this car. Oh well, I'm on my way home now and I'm looking forward to some downtime during the rest of this Thanksgiving break. Hmmm, the only thing is: my roommate, Joey, is on my mind now. Hope he has his casts off so he can give me a hug when we see each other again. Damn, I have such a warm spot in my heart for that boy. We bonded really well during my care giving, and right from the first day too. Having sex with my roommate is awesome. This freshman year is the best year of my life by far. Last summer with Frankie was sweet too. Frankie, who I'm so looking forward to seeing during this break, especially since he claims he's through with husky Darleen. Yeah, but he's said that before and didn't stick to it. I'll see if he's sticking to it this time. Thinking of Joey and Frankie, maybe I won't wait a whole year before having some gay sex again; maybe I won't wait a whole week. Those two really turn me on, but it's not just sex with them. I think I'm in love with Frankie, and I have deep affection for Joey too. And then there's Randy, who's a hot sexy kid too except he's a junior, so we're basically just into each other's brand of sex; he's dominant and I'm submissive and we're attracted to each other because of that. It's not like we're friends, and certainly not lovers; just buddy sex partners. Cris really got me off and running with gay sex and I know I'm overdoing it, but opportunities keep falling in my lap and I can't resist. What the hell, I went almost nineteen years with no gay sex at all, so I'm just trying to catch up. And I'm overdoing it too. Dammit, I hate admitting it, but I know I'm getting carried away with gay sex.

The drive from Delaware to my parents' place normally takes about three hours. Stopping at a convenience store for some junk food didn't taken very long so I'll be home about ten-thirty. Can't wait to have my dinner at the Townline Hoagie Shop; that's gonna be my first stop. Then, tomorrow's Sunday, so that's a family day; church and a day long visit with my parents. Watch a football game with dad, tell mom little white lies about college, certainly not mentioning anything about being gay; I'm just not ready to lay that bombshell on them. With Christian being gay too, it's going to be incredibly awkward some day when we tell them. I'm thinking it won't be for years because it might be better for them not to know; or maybe it's better for me. I don't know, nut I think I should at least wait until I graduate. Christian and me need to figure this out together and try doing what we think is best for mom and dad. He'll be arriving late Wednesday and maybe we can discuss it during this trip home. Come to think of it, I don't even know if he's already told mom and dad about his gayness. Actually, I hope he hasn't had a heart to heart talk with the folks because I don't want to have to deal with any kind of awkwardness during my first college break. I'm hoping to just chill out and enjoy not going to classes or studying every night. Mom and dad both work so there'll be some excellent chill-out time at home alone for me next week. Rest and relaxation for a couple of days is what I need now. Wednesday is my reunion with Frankie and I'm nervous and excited about that in equal portions. I never knows what to expect from Frankie, but I'm very anxious to see him, especially now that he inferred to me on the telephone that he feels the same way about me that I feel about him. How's he going to react in person though?

On route 1 North I switch to a CD by 'The Killers' and drive along the highway waiting for my favorite cut, "Read My mind". Damn, that's a cool sound; old but still cool. Firing-up another Marlboro, then punching the gas petal hard to pass a tractor-trailer, I'm back on the road again. Heading north for I-95, to I-495, to I-476 and finally I-80 all the way to Williamsport, Pennsylvania. That's been my hometown since the death of my childhood friend, and I guess he was my first true love. I was in puppy love with Tyler for two or three years before he died. It was a oneway love affair because he wasn't gay. I've read that young love is always the sweetest, but that didn't end sweet at all; it ended with deep sadness and a broken heart. Wonder what Tyler would have thought of me if he were alive and knew I'm gay sex? Not a good thought pattern, Oliver, get off that one. Alexander's gay club scene last night was way over the top, but how often do I get to experience something as nuts as that. A couple of times in my whole life so maybe I should stop beating myself over the head every time I have fun. I'm too hard on myself. It's harmless fun having sex at my age sex, and presently I'm sexually satisfied; wonder if that's ever happened to me before. Maybe that second week in Wildwood when Alexander and me began having the two hours of hot sex every morning. Yeah, that was special alright and it's actually what really got me started with an active sex life. It was basically just a night with Cris, but Alexander and I had sex regularly and it led to me being confident enough to explore other possibilities; so I can thank Alexander for that. My roommate Joey and me recently began daily sex together and it's not even two days since I last saw him and already I miss him. Maybe I'm in love with him too. It's nice that he keeps popping up in my head. On the other hand, I'm here for a break from college and a change of pace. But jeez, the body on Joey and his cute looks, and his wicked tight ass. Having sex with him just before break was as hot as any sex I had in Delaware, plus there's something else to it too, but I can't put my finger on what that something else is. It's sweet sex, but more than just sweet, so that's why I say maybe I'm in love with him. There's definitely something special going on. He's become a special friend because of all the personal stuff between us: wiping his ass, bathing him, brushing his teeth, and feeding him, and all the other stuff too. All those kinds of things tend to bring a person close to you. Makes the relationship special, and special both ways too. He's so innocent thinking he fell in love with me, and that's so sweet it makes me smile. Mostly I think it's that he just likes the sex, and he thinks that's love. That's like me thinking I was in love with the boys I kissed; how embarrassing for me now when looking back on that. But, ya know, what a sweet kid Joey is. Bet we're still close friends years and years from now.

By the time I leave I-80 the CD's been changed to, "The Fray" and fifteen minutes later, there it is, the big purple neon sign for the Townline Hoagie Shop. Driving had been okay, but a little too much introspection by me perhaps. I'm stiff after three hours behind the wheel, but mostly I'm hungry. The Townline is always crowded so I need to park in back. There aren't any familiar faces standing outside talking or messing around and this is a good thing. Hope there's nobody familiar inside either because I'm not interested in chit chat; I just want to eat and then get home to sleep in my own bed. Maybe it's because I'm a teenager, but I always get this creepy feeling walking alone past a group of teens my age, like they're evaluating me or mocking me behind my back in some way. I've never had much self confidence anyway, but I'm getting better. As soon as I open the door to the Townline Hoagie Shop that heavy fried onion smell overwhelms my olfactory lobes and saturates my clothing. The fried onion smell will stay with me for quite awhile after I leave too. For me it's no problem because, along with the sexy way certain boys I've known smell, the fried onion smell is one of my favorites. Fried onions are for the cheese steaks, of course. I'm going to have a cheese steak tonight, but first I want a hoagie. Two seats open at the counter so I slide into the one next to a man who looks like he's almost done eating. Maybe I'll get lucky and have an empty seat on either side of me when this guy finishes. My first choice is always a booth, but they're all being used tonight. Almost immediately I need to checkout this guy next to me because he's slurping his soda even though there's only wet ice left in the glass. Sucking on wet ice through a straw makes a shrill sipping sound and it's so stupid and so freaking irritating. It gives me unpleasant chills, like somebody sliding a piece of paper between their teeth. Doing my fake cough, I sneak another look at this buffoon just as he's taking a huge bite of his mostly eaten cheeseburger, chewing with his mouth open and making all kinds of lip smacking sounds and I gotta wonder which charm school this jackass went to. Another phony cough from me, but the guy keeps on chewing, making sounds like a dog lapping water out of a bowl. Then I notice he's wearing a black sweater with dandruff on the shoulders; I'm losing my appetite.

The man finally finishes his cheeseburger and begins digging in his pocket for money to pay the check, and in the process let's loose a long, rumbling burp without even covering his mouth. I'm looking down at the counter trying to put this horror show out of my mine. Will this torture never end?! Just then I hear someone say, "What's it gonna be, dude?" Looking up I see a cool Asian guy standing behind the counter ready to take my order. I go "Huh?" Forgetting all about the slob next to me, I'm staring at this hot kid and then, making an ass of myself, I mutter, "What?' He's beautiful and I know I've never seen him in here before because I definitely would have remember him. Seemingly losing his patience with me, he moves his head forward, and in a bored voice, says, "Do you know what you want?" He opens his dark eyes real wide, then adds, as if he's talking to a nine year old, "To eat, I mean?" Gulping and then quickly saying, "Ah, yeah, yeah, eat. Ah, can I have a small hoagie with hot peppers and a cherry coke." He writes it on a receipt pad and walks away without another word or glance. I'm staring after him with my mouth hanging open. This asian waiter is very slim, maybe a hundred and twenty-five pounds pounds, with a great ass. Five feet-eight inches tall, he's got wicked straight, black soft-looking longish hair over his ears and collar with some kind of mouse in the hair on top which allows it to kind of stick up in clumps on top, with the hairs across his forehead moused in place too. Large, dark almond-shaped eyes with thin, black eyebrows. His slightly yellowish-tan skin tone appears poreless and flawless and hairless and smooth, with perfect facial features; he's beautiful, but in a boyish way. Hard to determine his age, but certainly late teens or early twenties. As I said, finely shaped facial features, perfectly sized for his oval face. Definitely not feminine; nothing about him is feminine. In fact, he somehow seems intimidating, which is the reason I hesitated with my food order. I can't really explain it, but maybe it's the way he confidently says and does everything; and that flat stare of his too. It's disconcerting, but very interesting and I think my submissive side is what's being effected by him. The seats on either side of me are now empty and I have this super-hot waiter fixing me a hoagie. Well okay, after a rough start here, things in the Townline Hoagie Shop are going my way.

Casually glancing down the counter, then openly staring at my waiter serving other customers; he's captivating to me somehow. Focusing now on his very thin wrists and hairless arms, and his almost delicate hands with long fingers. Elegant, actually, and that's not a word that pops-up in my head very often. Then he flicks his eyes in my direction, catching me staring at him. No smile, just a hard three second stare right back at me making me avert my eyes down at the counter as I do that phony cough of mine again. He has the most uniquely sexy appearance. My guess is he's Japanese, but I'm far from an expert in that regard, having very little exposure to Pacific Rim individuals. Haven't really noticed many in high school, although they're certainly at my college. I've always admired the look of some Hispanics with their tan, clear skin tone and handsome features. Many of the young Hispanic guys go in for short, detailed haircuts that look so tough and oh soooo cool; to me anyway. This waiter will have me paying more attention to boys from those Pacific Rim countries now. And I'm not sure, but it just might be that my dick stirred when he gave me that stare. Could it be I didn't leave my sex drive in Delaware after all? Not daring to look in his direction a second time I squirm on the stool thinking about my dick and thinking that I could really use a cigarette about now. A few minutes later, my waiter's back, saying, "Here ya go. I put extra syrup in your cherry coke. Hope it's sweet enough for ya." He said that with an odd inflection in his voice. Looking up slightly, I want to say, "What?", but notice his name tag instead; it reads, 'Aaron'. Lifting my eyes up, chancing another look at him only to discover that stare of his right back at my eyes. Trying to say, 'Thanks, dude,' being cool, but instead, "Thinks, doo", croaks out of me and my face gets hot and red. Aaron does something with his mouth, shakes his head and walks further up the counter to my right.

Sweat brakes out on my forehead as I slurped down half my soda; it certainly is sweet enough. The sodas here at Townline are fountain drinks made by squirting Coke syrup, or cherry syrup, or any flavor syrup in a cup with ice, and then filling it up with seltzer water and stirring it all together. They're much better than bottled sodas. With shaky hands and an odd buzzing in my belly I pick-up the hoagie as my mouth actually waters in anticipation; I've been hooked on these thing since I was young. A Townline hoagie starts with a good Italian sub roll sliced almost in half lengthwise, then olive oil and dried oregano drizzle inside the cut along with lots of Italian cold cuts like hard salami and cooked salami, and sharp provolone cheese layered in the roll. On top of that goes sliced onions, sliced tomato, and lettuce all cold and crispy. More olive oil with salt and pepper, and lastly the optional sliced hot cherry peppers that I always get. With each bite you get a taste of everything and all the ingredients combining together are delicious. I chew, with my lips closed of course, savoring every mouthful. Some misguided individuals call this a sub, but that's too generic as there are all kinds of sub sandwiches, but only one hoagie. Forgetting about everything, except my hoagie, it isn't long before I'm slurping the last of my cherry Coke making that exact sound the jackass next to me made fifteen minutes ago. Hmmm? Glancing up and then to both sides, no one is paying me any mind so I slurp twice more; it doesn't annoy me when I do it. Excellent to get the last dregs of the sweet drink. Okay, that was as good as I thought it would be, and I still have room for a small cheese steak. That's if Aaron ever return. There are probably twenty stools at the counter and I'm sort of in the middle. Aaron waits on people down the counter to my left, then he walks right by me to the other end of the counter serving food to other customers or collecting money from those who finished. He treats everyone pretty much the same way he treated me, which is to say, officiously. He probably doesn't like his job or maybe he's just having a bad day. Staring at him openly now I can't get over what a handsome face he has, and his slim body seems to glide effortlessly with his every movement. His skin's perfect and I wonder how it would smell and feel against my face, and what would his mouth taste like? When he spoke those few words to me, I noticed his teeth are very white, with just the slightest separation between each of the top ones; very pink gums too. Weird the way I'm so fascinated with him.

He's something alright, and checking my lap I need to pull my jeans at the crotch to get my slightly twitching dick comfortable. As I'm doing that, I hear, "Can I help you?" My head shoots up to see Aaron leaning forward over the counter staring right into my eyes, asking, "Can I get you something else to eat?" "What? Huh? Um, it was good. The hoagie was, ya know." He tilts his head to the side a little, does an exaggerated inhale, and asks again, in an annoyed, bored manner, "Can I get ya something else?" He speaks with no accent of any kind; well, unless you think we have some kind of accent up here in western Pennsylvania. He sounds like I sound, except he has a wonderful fullness to his voice where my is more, I don't know, more like a kid's voice I guess. Aaron nods his head in the direction of someone to the left of me who has his hand up waving, calling, "Waiter". Then slowly turns back to me sounding almost nice when he says, "More soda, maybe?" That's my opening, I gulp again, then croak out, "Oh, ah, can I have a small cheese steak with fried onion and another cherry coke". He writes it down, mumbling, "That wasn't so hard, was it?" and looks in the direction of my lap. I ask, "What?" He smirks at me, takes my empty hoagie basket, and walks toward the customer who's demanding his attention. I'm red in the face again as someone with a slight slur in their voice, says to me, "Hey dick, how bout moving down and giving us two seats together here, if it ain't too fucking much trouble." Looking over there are two tough looking guys standing there smelling like beer and cigarettes. Both of them are wearing scruffy black Gothic attire and they're rockin' a number of facial piercings, and one of them has a tattoo on the side of his necks. Ugh! I say nothing, just move over one stool pulling my empty drink with me. Now I have these two smelly scruffs on my right and a heavy-set fellow on my left. Shit! I hate to be crowded. The two Gothic assholes talk loudly and the one right next to me has his elbow on the counter spread-out cupping his fat head with his hand, taking most of my counter space. His hair smells bad so I lean slightly toward the fat guy on my left, who says, "Excuse me kid, but I'm trying to eat here. What? ya want to sit in my lap?" I mumble, "Sorry," and move away as best I can. So now I'm awkwardly leaning back on my stool with just my left hand on the counter steadying myself.

"Hey, douche bag! Pass the napkin holder down here." That polite request comes from the guy who has his elbow on the counter in front of me. Sliding the napkin holder down to him, he takes out two napkins and blows his nose nosily into them, then drops the used napkins on the floor, as both of them laughing about something. Lovely manners, especially being in a restaurant. Then, looking over my shoulder, out the big plate glass windows, I'm wondering about the sound of a car horn repeatedly beeping and hope it isn't mine. Someone's points their electric key at the car and the horn stops as I hear Aaron's voice, "Move that arm Reasner! Keep it in front of you". Looking back there's Aaron holding the basket containing my cheeses steak, staring hard at the Gothic pig next to me. He'd put my new soda down on the only counter space available for me, so theres on place to put the cheese steak. Aaron doesn't sound particularly threatening or angry when he told Gothic Reasner to move his arm; he spoke in a monotone, but there's a definite edge to him. Reasner obviously knows Aaron, and says, "Oh goody, look who we got for our waiter tonight, Mikey" Mikey looks at Aaron, but says nothing. Reasner adds, "What if I don't want to move my arm, Hanari?" Aaron, still holding my cheese steak, says in his bored monotone, "I'll help Warren throw your asses out of here. It'll be fun, and you know Warren hates your guts anyway so you might trip and bounce your head off the parking lot a few times in the process." Reasner mumbles, "Asshole," and moves his arm allowing Aaron to put my cheesesteak in front of me. Aaron actually gives me a small grin, and it's so cute my dick stiffens up a little. The two goths mumble that they don't know what they want to eat yet, so Aaron goes through swinging doors behind him, disappearing into the kitchen. Three seconds of staring after him and then I take a bite of my cheese steak. Ooh, too hot, but delicious. The Townline cheese steak is thinly sliced beef cooked on the grill with oil and onions. In a couple of minutes it's scraped into a mound on the grille and two squares of American cheese are put, side by side, on top to soften into the hot beef. The same type Italian roll used for the hoagie is sliced the same way and heated on the grill. Then, with a spatula, the cook transfers the entire mound of steak, cheese, and fried onions into the warm roll. I always add a stream of sweet ketchup along the inside of the roll. Shutting out everything except the food, I eat every drop of that cheese steak and totally enjoy it. After draining my second cherry coke I look at the check, surprised the prize has gone up so much, then dig money out of my pocket to pay. In the city, and I mean Philadelphia where the University of Pennsylvania is located, they use cheese-whiz on their cheese steaks, which is a big mistake. Cheese-whiz is too salty and tastes artificial anyway, here they do it right with Kraft American cheese. Now, where the hell is Aaron?

No Aaron, but a middle aged woman with a sweatband around her head, who I recognize, is taking a food orders from the Gothic horror boys and after that she takes my check and money. I mutter, "Keep the change, Annie" and hear back from her, "Thanks, honey". The two dicks next to me are paying no attention to me, so I return the favor. When I lived at home I'd be in the Townline Hoagie Shop two or three times a week. My brother Christian always gave me spending money and I spent a lot of it here. The lady with the headband is Warren's wife; they own this place and Warren's father owned it before him. Warren is a big brute of a man, but boy can he cook. This is my favorite food in the world. Walking out the door, wondering what happened to Aaron, and there he is leaning against the side of the building smoking a cigarette and talking on a cell phone. The neon light that spells out, "TOWNLINE HOAGIE SHOP," cast a purple haze on Aaron's cute face and the same for the smoke he exhales as he animatedly speaks Japanese into his cell phone. His teeth look violet. I need to walk by him to get around back where my car is parked, so I give a little wave and a smile as I pass by him. He looks up at me without changing expression. Shrugging to myself, I'm almost around the corner of the building when Aaron calls out, "Hey, get back here you." Looking around, but it's obvious he means me; with a friendly look on my face, I saunter back, curious about what he wants. Maybe he thinks I left without paying. Putting his cell phone in his pants pocket, Aaron asks, "What's your name?" I'm not appreciating his tone of voice, but what the hell, extremely confident boys mesmerize me so I tell him my name. He points at a spot right in front of him, and says, "Well, Oliver Nickerson, stand right here where I'm pointing." Moving closer to him with a puzzled expression on my face, he says sternly, "Not there; right here where I'm pointing." As soon as I move to the correct spot he looks me over closely and then absently exhaled smoke in my face, touching the tip of his finger to his bottom lip squinting at me like he's trying to figure something out.

Because of his cigarette smoke in my face, I squint back at him, but his stare quickly makes me look down. Damn, why do I do that? Then, more of his smoke in my face which actually makes me do a real cough for a change, although it sounds pretty much like my phony coughs. Without changing expression Aaron holds out an open box of Winston Lights and I take one. He holds his burning cigarette up to mine and I inhale on my cigarette to light it from his. "Thanks, Aaron," is what I say after exhaling my first drag, and he responds with, "Oh, you can read name tags too. Aren't you the clever one!" I'm grinning like he's just given me a compliment, then feeling dumb, I blush again and he does the little dismissive shake of his head; the one he'd done to me in the restaurant. Taking another drag on my cigarette I look up at Aaron who's staring back at me and his unblinking stare make me shift my eyes down again, looking at the blacktop parking lot this time, as he asks, "You leave me a tip?" When I tell him yes, he wants to know how much. Hearing the amount, he tries to sound threatening by claiming he can easily check on the amount of tip I'd left. I start to tell him it's the amount I said, but he waves his hand for me to stop. I'm avoiding his eyes now, looking at his nose instead and a little grin brakes out around his mouth as he tells me, "All the tips are pooled together and split evenly between us servers. I was just breaking your balls about the tip, I really don't care what it was." He said it in a voice that gave the impression I should have know all that without him having to explain it. I go, "Oh". Still standing there, kind of standing straight in front of Aaron, waiting for; well, I don't know what I'm waiting for, or why he called me over. He lifts the hand that holds his cigarette, palm out, which I think means, 'stand still'. With his other hand he reaches up and pulls down my bottom lip using the pad of his index finger, which he then rubs gently on my gums beneath my bottom teeth, back and forth, back and forth and I'm having trouble breathing all of a sudden.This type of thing has happened to me a couple of times in the past and I've come to the conclusion that special guys, like Aaron, are simply demonstrating their dominance. It's usually a very effective technique to use on me, especially when the dominate boy looks like Aaron. I continue to stand still and up straight for him; you know, being a good boy.

When I don't object to his finger in my mouth, he lets go of my lip and instead pulls the zipper of my jacket up, pats my shoulder too hard and lectures me that it's awfully easy to catch a cold this time of year if a person doesn't stay warm. He pats my cheek with pats that are very close to smacks while he's asking me if I'd known that fact about colds. The smacks have a sting to them. Having no clue how to respond to his unusual behavior, in a small voice I ask, "You new around here?" Aaron laughs out loud as if that's the last thing he expected me to say. After his laugh he tells me I'm the new kid on the block, not him. I shake my head, 'no' and try to explain myself, but smoke catches in my throat and coughing drowns out my words. This kid makes me feel kind of uneasy and I don't know, maybe I'm trying too hard to please him or something. Aaron pats my back through my coughing. When I can speak, I tell him that far from being a new kid on the block, this has been my home for five years, "I'm home from college on Thanksgiving break". Aaron sputters, "College? You're shitting me; no way you're old enough to be in college?" When he discovers I'm nineteen he insists on seeing my drivers license. "God damn, Oliver Nickerson, you're almost twenty years old, dude. Fuck, I'm a senior at Mount St. Alice's high school, just turned eighteen last month." He adds, "Are you seriously okay with this goofing around shit I've been doing?" Aaron's surprised to see my age because I've been letting him get away with treating me this way. He doesn't know it's sort of a sexual turn-on for me, or maybe he does. In any case, I mutter, "Oh, thanks. I mean, happy birthday. What stuff are you referring to? I mean.." This makes him laugh again, "Jesus, you're a real piece of work, Oliver. Watch this," and he pulls on my arm in a way that magically makes me bump up against his side. Bouncing off him lightly, and then I'm right next to him. There are still kids screwing around in front of the hoagie shop, but they can't see us, not that I imagine Aaron would care if they did. He's at least an inch shorter than me, but this doesn't appear to intimidate him even a little bit, and neither does the fact I'm almost two years older then him. That odd pressure he'd exerted on my arm got me totally off balance and I ended up standing so close I'm almost touching him. Holding my wrist in a certain way he keeps me there in place, close to him, and we're actually in each other's space. It's very odd, but I like it. Aaron wants to know my college and is impressed when I tell him. He tells me his family moved here in the Fall, just as I was going away to college, so we just missed each other.

Wondering how he could be so tough calling out those Gothic assholes in the hoagie shop earlier, I ask if he's a boxer or something. He takes my hand and presses it against his bicep, which feels as hard as a steel cable. Aaron smiles at the expression on my face when I squeeze that hard muscle, telling me he has been doing a form of Japanese martial arts called 'aikido', which is basically all about balance and structure and he's been doing it for ten years now. That particular martial art isn't intended to seriously harm your attacker, just neutralize him. That's why he could pull my wrist in such a way that I'd move where he wanted. I said, "Oh, I see," although I don't. Chuckling again he pulls on my arm and slightly pushes my foot with his foot in a manner that makes me lose my balance and fall into him. He keeps me from falling to the blacktop, but he does so by goosing my ass and groping my belly. I'm like, "Ah! Oh, um, yep, I see what you mean.. oops... oh!!" while making sure my cigarette doesn't burn him or me. Steady on my feet again, Aaron now had his left hand holding me by the back of my neck, squeezing occasionally and talking to me pleasantly. It gives me the shivers every time he squeezes, and my head bends back against his hand. Aaron pretends he doesn't notice, but I can tell he's trying not to grin each time he squeezes and I shiver and flinch and bump the back of my head against the back of his fingers. Apparently he's enjoying himself until, checking his watch, he informs me he's on a fifteen minute break which is now into the twenty-first minute. I say, "Oh, really?" Aaron doesn't appear to care that he's already past his alloted break time. When he speaks I watch his lips move, they're so coolly shaped in a natural bow, but most people's lips are, just not as defined as Aaron's. The thought of kissing brings on an involuntarily quick crotch adjustment and when I do it he lets go of my neck and takes my wrist to pull me into his side again. We both do a little laugh because, with seemingly no effort, he can move my whole body with those aikido moves. My right bicep is awkwardly pressed against his box of Winston Light cigarettes in the pocket of his white, button-down shirt. The look on his face is more serious this time and the way he holds my wrist keeps me against him for a few seconds. Taking a quick drag on the Winston and then blowing out a long breath as my face gets red and hot once again, and that's because I'm awkwardly against his body. Holding me so that my side is against him, Aaron blows three perfect smoke rings that drift over my head and I relax, becoming more comfortable against his wonderfully tight body.

My dick's hard inside my jeans, pointing across to the right, not bulging out too much yet. Maybe Aaron won't notice as my brain spends a nanosecond trying to remember who I've seen blow smoke rings like Aaron's, and immediately the face of Mike Sullivan from the Wildwood boardwalk flashes behind my eyes and it startles me that, although completely different, both he and Aaron have a similar effect on me. Aaron gives me a look like he's just remembered something, and says, "Oh yeah, the reason I called you over here in the first place is to find out if you were coming on to me in the hoagie shop earlier. Were you coming on to me, Oliver Nickerson?" I gasp and my body stiffens against his, as I sputter, "What? No! In the hoagie shop? Na na no! What do ya mean, Aaron?" He tells me he thought he'd noticed me coming on to him, that's all. Shaking my head back and forth I assure him I hadn't come on to him, and he says, "If you weren't coming on to me, it's obvious I can't tell when you are, so when you decide to come on to me will ya you tell me you're doing it so I'll recognize it? Okay, Oliver?" I mutter, "What?" He chuckles and flicks the short bangs off my forehead with his index finger, saying, "That's a cute haircut. What's it suppose to be? Is it a retro style from the fifties or something?" In a serious manner I explain, "It's suppose to be Robin's haircut from the Batman and Robin TV show of the sixties. I never saw the show myself." It's Aaron's turn to say," What?" Then he laughs out loud again and tells me he has no fucking idea what I just said, but that I'm funny, and cute. I say, "Huh?" I'm not really able to think straight with him because all this time the sides of our bodies are touching and my boner is getting stiffer until now it's obviously showing, and I'm having trouble breathing. His body feels so tight and so good it's taking all my will power not to press the side of my face against his, or God forbid, kiss him. Aaron takes one last drag of his Winston Light and flicks it in an arc about twenty feet away and a splash of red sparklers explodes when it lands on the blacktop parking lot. He ruffles my hair and then gooses my boner lightly and holds his hand up against it for a couple of seconds, at the same time staring into my eyes till I look down again blushing; it's embarrassing to spring a boner as often as I do. Taking his hand away, he says, "Don't forget to tell me when you're coming on to me". He does a cute smirk very close to my face before turning and walking through a side door into the hoagie shop's kitchen, never looking back.

Taking deep breaths now, still standing here thinking maybe there's going to be something more, but no he's gone, gone, gone. In a daze, I step on my cigarette butt and slowly walk towards my car. Halfway there I spot Aaron's butt, still smoldering. Picking it up I take a little drag off it and then try to flick it the way he did and it goes about six feet and drops like a stone; no arc either. Winston Lights taste a lot like Marlboro Lights if ya ask me. Aaron lips his cigarettes' filter, just like me. His saliva from the filter is on my lips and that thought has me groping my boner for the next ten minutes, driving to my parents house. Guess I can stop worrying about my mojo because it ain't lost and it ain't in Delaware either; it's right here in my pants. Good to know it isn't all used up by Spunky, Bobby, and the twins. No sirree, it's back with me. All I needed was a hoagie, a cheese steak, two cherry cokes, and Aaron. The lights are on at my parents house so I drive around some more. Don't want a reunion with them tonight because I'm in a goofy, dreamy mood; one that I kind of like and want to stay in it for awhile longer. Best to wait until my parents go to bed and we'll have our reunion in the morning. For the hell of it I drive by Pattie's house. Lights are on there too. Hmmmm? Wonder what Myer's is up to. Pattie's brother is another unique hottie. That teen BO of his is like an aphrodisiac to me. It gets me so hot and I love it that he begs me to fuck him because once in awhile, I like to be in charge of the sex; just for a change, ya know? Is he sixteen or seventeen by now? Probably seventeen, but he acts older. Initially he bullied me when I'd come to pick-up Pattie for a date. Somehow he knew right away that I was gay or at least bi and he tried to do little things to humiliate me, then he changed his ways because he wanted me to fuck him, he really wanted it. He changed from being a bully into being a pussycat, saying, 'Please, Oliver,' and being real polite; what an actor he can be. I was glad to help the kid out 'cause what the hell, it was less than a year ago that I was in his same situation; one of constant yearning with no outlet for it. I'm seeing Pattie this Saturday night, but obviously my main interest is Myers. Pattie's cool enough for a girl and she's an okay date as far as it goes; plus, it does helps with my hetero image, but it's Myers that's the attraction there for me. Cruising by slowing, it looks like someone's at the front door. Too dark to see who it is. Damn, should I stop? Then, "Oliver! I recognize your car. Get over here!" The dark figure says, "So, you're interested in me again now that you're back in town." It's Pattie, not Myers. Fuck! She skips down the front walk as I do a U-turn and park in front of her house. Pattie's not pleased with me, and as she opens the passenger door she's telling me about it. "Two emails in three months, Oliver? That's all I get from you? I emailed you three or four times a week? And, why did you give me the wrong number for your cell phone?" I'm like, "What? No, no that was the right number.." She calls out the number she'd memorized and it's of course wrong. "Oh, no Pattie, you must have written it down wrong." "Horse manure, Oliver! You're the one who wrote it down. Just how many girlfriends do you have at college anyway?" I start to say none when she interrupts with, " Don't lie to me, Oliver!" pointing an accusatory finger at me.

She hops in the front seat and slides right over to put her arms around my neck and kiss me on my mouth, then she does a theatrical moan, saying, "I can't help myself when you're around," and kisses me again. Ah crap, I need to be an actor myself now and act like I'm into a hot make-out with her. She quickly gets excited and pulls my hand to her crotch and humps my fist. Yuck! She rubs her breast against my chest and gropes my ass while I try not to gag. It's gross doing this stuff with her, although I can think of a number of boys that I'd love to do it with. When doing it with Pattie it's best if I think hard about one of those boys. Thinking about my new crush on Aaron, with Pattie kneading my dick, actually gets it semi-hard. Then, another miracle; Pattie abruptly pulls her head away and says, "Oh no you don't, Oliver. I know you too well. All you want is to get me on my back and hump away to your heart's content. I feel that naughty hard penis of yours right there in your pants. You're a hot one alright, but no doing-the-naughty for you; not tonight, Oliver." She adjusts her skirt, and adds, "If you had emailed me more often I might have rewarded you tonight. You are so bad! Why do I always fall for the bad boys?" She kisses me one more time and tells me she needs to get in the house before her folks sent out a posse looking for her. One good thing about dating Pattie, it isn't necessary for me to say much because she talks non-stop. I just need to pretend to listen. She tells me she's dating two other guys and mentions who they are, but the names aren't familiar. I'm happy she has an active dating life and I'm thinking she's probably putting-out for them too. At least she had in the past, according to the scuttle butt around the halls of our high school. Of course, ya couldn't prove it by me. Hey, good for all of them, really, and it eases my consciences about misleading her. She's the one who encourages me to date her, so she's enjoying something about our dates and except for making out, or having sex with her, she's kind of funny and it's usually a good enough time when we go out. Pattie talks on and on about how much fun she's having, but it'd be more fun if I were around blah blah blah. She can be bossy and she's a bit narcissistic, but so what, I liked her and then of course, there's her brother, Myers. She tries to get me to meet her tomorrow afternoon, but I come up with real good reasons why I can't and then, taking a big chance, I ask her if she's sure we can't do some hanky-panky tonight in the car? Thank God she stands by her need to get inside the house; something about needing to be in by midnight or get grounded.

Then, I can't resist, "How's that bratty brother of yours doing?" Pattie's fixing her hair, ready to get out of the Mini, as she says, "Myers? He's a good kid, Oliver. Why are you always picking on him?" I feigned outrage, "Picking on Myers? Surely you jest! I love the kid." She laughs and tells me I'm too cute for my own good. So a 'cute' compliment, but it's quickly followed-up, as we're getting out of the car, with two zingers: She tells me I have a goofy haircut and that she knew damn well it's a hickey under the band-aid on my neck. Ignoring both of those comments I walk her to the front door, where she says, "You'll probably say no, but would you please, please with sugar on it, please come over an hour early on Saturday before our date. Myers needs your help setting-up his new computer in his bedroom. I planned on calling your house tomorrow to beg you to help him". Well, that gets my attention alright. Pattie's saying, "You're in college Oliver, and know all about that stuff, while poor Myers is a not too bright, under achieving high school student." She's been set-up by Myers, of course, and the word 'bedroom' has me wetting my lips and adjusting my crotch in anticipation. Compared to what Myers knows about computers, I don't know shit, but that isn't the point obviously. It's a great excuse to allow me plenty of time to give that boy a good, hot fucking. Oh yeah, I'm back! It surprises me how much I want to get it on with that kid now. At first Myers would bully me like I said, but now he's docile as a lamb, and at the moment I'm anxious to comply with Pattie's request. "Help Myers with his computer?" I moan, continuing my acting. "Oh, I'll do it for you Pattie." Another wet kiss and in she goes, me walking back to my car rubbing her kiss off my mouth with the back of my hand, thinking, 'Things are shaping up. First Aaron and now Myers. So, some potential here for sexy fun in the old hometown; who needs Delaware?" Driving around a little longer, singing with the, 'Counting Crows' and really feeling pretty damn good; it's like I'm popular now and what a contrast to my high school days. The lights are out at home this time so I park in the driveway and quietly take my satchel up to the bedroom. Mom has it all ready for me and Christian. We'll be sharing the room during Thanksgiving week, just like we did growing up. I love my brother so much, but there is that worry I have that he may be more than just in brotherly love with me after we had sex in Seattle. I didn't even know he was gay until I took that trip. The brothers' sexy weekend together was a very special time for me, but now I feel awkward about it and I'm worried he might want to do it with me again; I'm just not feeling it. Surely we can straighten everything out during this Thanksgiving break. He's my brother, my hero, but not my lover.

The sun's shining in my eyes through my bedroom window at eight-thirty the next morning, and that wakes me up. I feel fantastic, and it has something to do with the thirteen hours sleep I got yesterday. After a shower and all the other appropriate bathroom activities, I'm ready to face the world. No need to jerk-off because the boys in Delaware did me up really fine and I'm still good. Before going away to college, jerking off was one of those aforementioned 'appropriate bathroom activities', but with Joey Gallo and Randy Rider at college, and particularly after the Delaware boys were done with me Saturday, there's no need to jerk off. Saves time in the morning too. Aaron got me all worked-up last night, but that wore off pretty quickly. This is probably how most mature guys feel each morning and all that jacking-off seems so childish to me now. Growing up ain't all that bad. Downstairs I go, and endure all the hugs and kisses and a very warm greeting from my parents, who have been wonderful to me all my life. This current Oliver, my new Oliver, is so much different then the one my parents knew a year ago, so much different that it boggles my mind. That's true enough, however it's my job right at this time to give them the original version of myself so they'll feel comfortable. I love my parents, however, I'm growing-up and gaining speed and I don't believe they'd be able to deal real well with all of the changes in me, not just yet anyway. They might have a hard time grasping that this is the fun, exciting, adventurous Oliver, and not the little mouse wallflower; not the meek uninteresting one with no friends. Now I've got friends and hot sex partners too. Boys asking what I think about this or that... "do you think we could get undressed, Oliver?" like that. Boys seeking my approval. Frankly, it rocks and I feel a little bit like "da bomb" sometimes. Other guys are interested in me now. I especially appreciate my current busy situation because, as I mentioned, for so many years I went without friends or lovers of any kind. I can't let my parents in on any of this because they'd probably think I don't know what I'm doing, or that I'm in relationships over my head. Negative stuff like that.They just don't get it, they're parents and parents by definition have to be from a different era. No way they can understand how things are for kids nowadays. Not their fault really, it's just the way it is.

Mom's so proud of me; I got dressed for church without them having to nag me, but it's the least I can do for them, although I still haven't forgiven God for letting Taylor die the way he did. Before church we only have coffee and OJ because we'll be going out for brunch later. This day plays itself out pretty much as expected; the church service lasts approximately two days, after church mom and dad brag to me about how great Christian is as we drive to meet the family my folks normally hook up with for brunch on Sundays, after brunch we go back to the house where mom shows me sixty million pictures she'd taken during their visit to see Christian in Seattle. None of the pictures were of Daddy/Glen or of Christian in his thong. Dad and I watch the Stealers lose to the Patriots in high definition. Dad doesn't fall asleep in his chair until the second quarter of the late game between the Giants and Bills. Sunday dinner at seven o'clock with me fielding more questions from mom. I make up cheerful answers and smile a lot; enthusiastic about the university, and my college experience in general. That's what I want to demonstrate to my parents. Put their minds at ease that their youngest child is safe and happy. I want them to see I've learned some things about life so I recite some hokey stuff I remember from somewhere; like, 'I've learned we're all responsible for what we do, unless of course we happen to be a celebrity'. Other things like, 'Age is a high price to pay for maturity' and 'It takes years to build up trust, but only suspicion to tear it down.' Another one, 'I've learned that you can keep vomiting long after you think you're finished', but I don't mention that one. The first couple of things I recited had the two of them nodding their heads in agreement, and mom putting her hand to her mouth in amazement at my new wisdom. The dinner lasts a month, but all good things must come to an end and after another month watching my parents' favorite reality TV shows with them, I turn in for another nights sleep. Believe me, I'm tired! That all sounds flip perhaps and I'm sorry about that, but you'll just have to take my word that my parents feel relieved and satisfied with it all. Older folks simply don't have the insight my generation possesses. Probably because we grew-up in the age of personal computers. My love and gratitude where my parents are concerned is deep and sincere, so I'll just leave it at that. I'll always be there for them.

Waking-up Monday morning and knowing there isn't a single thing that I need to do seems like a treasure at first, but boredom quickly overtakes that feeling. Plus, I've had so much sleep the last few days that by eight o'clock in the morning I'm wide awake. The morning drags by and around noon the idea pops in my head to get lunch at The Townline Hoagie Shop. Maybe my favorite waiter will be there. He isn't. Aaron's in class. Oh yeah, I forgot he was still in high school. Thanksgiving vacation for the high school kids begins Wednesday. I'll be having fun with Frankie on Wednesday and that reality gets me thinking about my dick. With Myers and Aaron in school, I don't know anyone else around here that might help me with my dick. Isn't that odd that this is the place I've lived for five years, but there isn't anyone here for me to have a little sexy fun with. Back in my room I decide that jerking-off isn't so childish after all. I have a very nice wank thinking about; well, thinking about Joey, mostly. That surprised me because I started thinking about Aaron, who really has been in my head ever since Saturday night, but in the end thinking about Joey and his tight ass is what really got me shooting off and damn, it felt good too. Like I said, haven't had to jerk off for months although I use to jerk off three times or so a day, but that was back before Cristobal Juarez kissed me and everything changed. Laying here on my boyhood bed, with my pants around my ankles, still slowly stroking my dick long after my climax, each slow stroke feeling fine. I've finally decided that I'm in that small percentage of guys who needs sex much more than the average guy. That has to be it, not that I think there's anything wrong with that. High school gets out at two-thirty so I drive back to the hoagie shop around three, but Aaron isn't working at all today. Thinking about how he manipulated and dominated me so much Saturday night is getting me hot. Aaron's sexy looks, plus that martial arts thing he can do, and his skinny, hard as nails biceps! He's so sexy, and that's true even though he's younger then me and shorter than me; he'd had no trouble putting me under his spell. He's a combination of Randy Rider, Alexander, and who else? oh yeah, Mike Sullivan. Oh my God, what a crew those three are. Damn, I'm right back to my old horny self.

Driving by Myers house is dangerous because it's a fifty/fifty chance I'll run into him or Pattie, and I don't want another situation with Pattie. Myers is kind of a nerdy loner so he's probably in his bedroom or in their recreation room in the basement jerking off right now. But no, I can't take a chance knocking at the door, so back to my bedroom for some more wanking myself. This time I'm sure I'll be thinking about dominant Aaron or perhaps Myers, but surprise, it ends up being Joey in my head at climax again. Whoa! Damn that felt good. Sure, I miss Joey, and more than I expected. That different way he has of looking at me when I'm feeding him or bathing him. Just hanging out and daydreaming about Joey after my wank when, bang... an idea at last. Jumping up off the bed, it's so obvious too. I'll go on line, but only find disappointment there because Joey isn't on his computer. I leave a text message wishing him good luck getting the casts off his elbows and knee; hoping they're already off. After smoking a cigarette outside I go back on line and send Joey a sort of long email telling him I miss him, starting off trying to be funny, but it ends up being kind of corny and maybe even a little mushy. Damn that kid, saying he's in love with me. He's a year younger than me, but he can act younger than that at times. Of course, being completely helpless might account for some of his immature behavior. He smells so good when his head is resting against the side of my face during his bath. He's got that fabulous skin too, to touch I mean. And his hair, real curly when that gymnast teammate of Joey's gives him a short haircut. I like to run my fingers through it when it's dry and it's fun shampooing it wet too. And, how about when I shave Joey's pubes, hahaha! He gets the hardest boners. I have to hold back a giggle because I just know he's going to fire off some creamy teen cum while being shaved, and he does too. Him all bouncing around and going "Ahhhh," is so funny! He's such a good kid. Hey, I'm suppose to be in love with Frankie, so why are all my thoughts about Joey? Hmmm, probably because I haven't even seen Frankie for over two months; almost three actually.

Outside the house again with a Snapple this time and another cigarette realizing I'm kinda bored. Trying to blow a smoke ring makes me think about how Joey and I are always sharing the same cigarette when we smoke. That's because he can't reach his mouth with the cigarette, those elbow casts won't allow that much range of motion. God, Joey's so great though! What a roommate. Jeez, all of a sudden I feel like I need to wack off again. This time I think about Joey right from the start. Good grief, it's hard to believe it's just two days ago I was afraid I'd lost my sex drive? Three jerk offs in one day is pathetic. Like I'm back in high school, but once you start having sex it gets to be like you need it; for me anyway, and I like the dominant boys too. To that end, I checkout the Townline Hoagie Shop that night, but it's another waste of time. Aaron doesn't work school nights. Fuck! I'm lonely again and in my own home town. I drive down that section of town where long ago I'd run into Myers unexpectedly trying to pimp himself out at the time, the goofy bastard. He isn't around this night of course because it's a school night. So I smoke and drive aimlessly listening to my CDs and thinking about boys, now it's mostly Joey and Frankie. Joey because he seems to be in my head all the time for some reason, and Frankie because I'm going to see him the day after tomorrow. Jeez, that thought gets me groping my semi-hard dick again; can't wait to see Frankie! Tuesday is almost a duplicate of Monday so by the time I wake-up Wednesday morning I'm stoked and can hardly wait to see Frankie. But first, a careful approach to cleanliness is in order. I even check to see if I can find a whisker anywhere on my face, and thank God I can't. When I'm showered and my teeth are sore from so much brushing, I choose very casual, but at the same time, cool clothes to wear. I leave wearing Lo-hanging jeans, ripped at the knee and back pocket, so my boxer underwear can be seen, a white tee under a dark blue pullover long-sleeved Polo golf shirt, and my scruffy new balance sneakers. Naturally I won't be wearing a coat because coats ain't cool.

Looking cool and ready to go, but still feeling kinda nervous for some unknown reason, I get in my hot Mini Cooper. I'd been on line with Frankie last night and that went okay. Got driving directions again, just to be sure. It's less then a two hour drive and by nine o'clock I'm firing my car and away we go. Like I said, it's been almost three long months since I laid eyes on Frankie, but every detail of him is embedded in my brain. Frankie is one of the world's cutest boys, he's right up there with the twins and that unbelievable Randy Rider. Well, maybe guys like Frankie, Randy, and even Aaron are all a small step down from the twins, but face it, they're all hot. It's a cold November day with gray skies and strong winds. The Mini Cooper is buffeted around a little, but I don't care what the weather's like on this day. Frankie insisted we meet at his house; there won't be anyone there so there isn't any reason not too. I'd used a hell of a lot of will power yesterday and only jerked-off once. Saving my cum for Frankie although it's worrisome that he'd made no reference to anything involving sex in his e-mail. We'll surely do something though, probably in his garage like last time. Thinking about the last time gets me going with that squirmy feeling which leads to me groping myself as I drive. Frankie sort of fucked me in that lounge chair in the backyard during my last visit; he did it after a lot of encouragement from me. And then later that morning he did me real good all on his own, inside the garage. Oh boy, am I excited. Can't wait to swap some spit and whatever, with Frankie! No matter how good the directions, leave it to me to get lost anyway and I had to ask at a gas station guy before getting back on track. So, fifteen minutes late I'm knocking on Frankie's door. His mother answers which is a surprise because he said no one would be home. She's very pretty and very young looking. Small, with red hair, like Frankie. Frankie's hair is much brighter though and goes much better with his pale complexion; she has a swarthy complexion. A cigarette dangles from her lips as she says, "Yeah?" Telling her I'm here to see Frankie, a man's deep voice calls out, "Is that Milo?" His mother takes the cigarette from her mouth and yells over her shoulder, "Nah, it's one of Frankie's boyfriends." My face gets red when I hear the man mumbling, "Oh, Christ, not another fag." His mother talks over the man's voice saying to me, "Well, you win the prize as the cutest one so far, honey. He's around back." She indicates with her thumb I need to walk around the outside of the house to the back yard. Guess she doesn't remember me from the first time I was here. Boyfriend? That's weird. Frankie's at home on Thanksgiving break from college, just like me. We won't have many opportunities to see each other during this short break, in fact, this is probably it. During Christmas break, we'll have many more opportunities because it's a much longer break.

Barely reaching the back of the house, Frankie appears out of nowhere, yelling, "It's big 'O'!" and his arms go around my neck and his tongue goes into my mouth as our noses squash together. What a great kisser! Moving his head and tongue and body, all at the same time as his lips and tongue move on my lips and tongue, our noses rubbing back and forth. Then he lets go of my neck with one arm and grabs hold of my butt cheek pulling my crotch tight against his, humping his hardening cock against mine. My breathing is quick, my heartbeat fast and my cock's stirring big time. It's definitely Frankie's smell and feel, but never has he been so aggressive. I almost lose my balance as we continue grinding our crotches together, really getting into the spit swapping and our faces become saturated with saliva. More rubbing of our slippery noses together, we moan and groan as we're into French kissing. It's almost as if we're trying to consume each other. It's so wicked sexy to do this with Frankie. His skinny body totally against mine and I get into a rhythm with my tongue lazily lapping against his tongue and it's so sexy it's driving me wild. Then Frankie begins giving me just what I need, another hickey. This one on the other side of my neck, opposite Alexander's. Hickeys are a pain in the ass to hide, but the feel of a boy sucking a long time at one spot is such an erotic thing to me, and all the while we continue humping into each other's crotch. He has me in my trance by now and could have done anything he wanted with me; I'd happily comply. What he wants to do is finish off a shiny red hickey on my neck and then some more sucking on my tongue. My back's up against the side of the house by now and I'm overwhelmed by all Frankie's stimulations. My boner's leaking, drip, drip, drip, and except for my pole-hard cock, I'm completely limp in Frankie's arms, every second getting closer and closer to cuming, just whimpering, moaning and saying Frankie's name because he makes me crazy with desire for him, and it's been like this almost from the first day I met him. He's perfect in my eyes. Unexpectedly, he roughly shoves his hand inside the back of my jeans and pushes his finger up my hole, tight on my prostate. Shivers of ecstasy as I lift up onto my toes. Frankie vigorously finger fucks me and I'm helplessly squealing into his kisses, blowing our combined spit out through my lips in the process. Literally on my toes, swaying in Frankie's grasp.

The whole back yard is shimmering before my eyes as it all comes up on me fast, that incredible feeling in my groin as cum floods my boxer shorts. My eyes glaze over with my head lulling back. Frankie can tell I'd climaxed by the humping I'd did with each ejaculation. He holds on to me, but pulls his head away from mine a little, his dark blue eyes wide open and his face flushed. There are big sparkling bubbles of our saliva at the corners of his mouth and they appear to pulsate as he takes really quick, short breaths. Through slits in my eyes I see Frankie's familiar little smirk on his adorable face. Frankie nods his head up and down ever so slightly as if to say, 'I knew I could get you to cum in your pants,' then the smirk turns into a big beautiful grin as he ask rhetorically, "You didn't cum in your boxers, did you, Oliver? Tell me it ain't so, big 'O'?" and he kisses my lips quickly. With Frankie still holding on to me, giggling to himself, we walk towards the garage. It isn't cold enough to see our breath, or there'd have been billows of it all around us because I'm taking deep breaths by now with my heart beating fast and my cock tingling nicely. What a greeting! I'm not nervous about our reunion anymore; not with cum already squishing in my boxers as we walk. Trying to catch my breath, and at the same time enjoy the after-glow of my climax, I go where Frankie leads me and we're soon inside the garage, warmed by a space heater. "I like it here better than the house when my mom's boyfriend is over. How ya doing, Oliver?" And he pats my stomach and squeezes my ass again. I'm still too out of breath, and too taken by surprise, to think of what to say so I smile at him instead. Frankie makes a face while smelling his middle finger, the one he'd shoved up my ass, and then he lights a Marlboro light holding that smelly finger away from his nose when he drags on his cigarette. I watch him closely, hardly believing we're together again. He's such and original and he's cool, so cute, so perfect for me. Frankie offers me the pack of cigarettes, saying, "I taught you to smoke, you better not disappoint me, Big O." I take one and Frankie lights it for me as I'm wondering about this 'big O' stuff. Blowing smoke out his mouth and nose simultaneously he hugs around my neck roughly, and says, "It's so fucking great to see my best friend again." Then a smokey kiss on my lips and his nicotine tongue is in my mouth again so we can do a short French kiss. We both take a drag, and while kissing inhale each other's exhale, and blow it out our noses. Laughingly we say, at the same time, "Remember doing that on the loading dock?"

I can't catch my breath from the excitement of being with him and our laughing together is just like we'd laughed all summer together; well, a lot of the time we laughed. As usual Frankie has enough energy for two people, just like the North boys. Finally I go, "Fuck Frankie, that was so hot and I got another wet cum spot on my freakin pants. Every time I come here I cum in my pants. What's up with that?" He nods his head smiling and then rubs his hand through my short hair, saying, "You lie! This isn't my flattop haircut, Oliver." When we talked on the phone a couple months ago, I'd just gotten a haircut at the Campus Barbershop that was like the one Frankie had last summer, the flattop, but that was weeks ago. Anthony gave me this 'Robin' haircut last Saturday. Not wanting to go into an explanation of this latest haircut, instead I say, "Yeah, I did back then though, but neither do you now." He reaches up and pats his red hair and smirks, like he's proud of his new hairdo. It's no longer the flattop I loved to run my fingers over and through. In fact his hair is long enough, just barely, for the stubby ponytail he has it in now. It looks like his hair needs to be washed too, and actually Frankie looks like he could use a bath as well, with dirt under his fingernails for one thing. During our kiss I hadn't noticed a stink, just a strong Frankie smell, but now as he moves about in the warm garage there's a slight aroma of boy's BO in the air. Very odd for the Frankie I knew and loved. When I ask about his Harry Potter glasses, he says, "Contacts, baby. I outgrew those kiddy eyeglasses." His lips are the same rosy red and his nose and chin are the exact same cute, perfectly proportioned little items, and his complexion is pale perfection, just like the old Frankie. His wonderful array of smiles, grins, and smirks still show off his milk white teeth. All that's true enough, but Frankie seems different. When I mention that to him, he tells me he'd begun blossoming as a sophomore in college this year. Telling me that, he shows off the front of the gray hoody sweat shirt he's wearing. " WEST CHESTER UNIVERSITY" is spelled out in big blue letters across the front. Of course I already knew he was going there so the university isn't a surprise, but his the hip hop attitude is a surprise, and the body odor and ponytail are kinda shocking.

He couldn't wait to tell me how he'd sent Darleen packing for good, and he's kinda crude about it, not that I minded, but it's unusual for Frankie. He goes, "That cunt was nothing but trouble, 'O, fer sure, dude. She's history now, fatty's old new." Well, I'd been telling him to dump her for months so, duh! I don't say anything to rub it in though. Frankie explains that once he realized I'd been right about us two, him and me and the gay sex, as he puts it, then he says, "And I'm perfectly fine with it; better than fine actually." He feels his easy acceptance of gay sex is probably due to the tough form of it he'd gotten via Fallon. Fallon, who Frankie once owed gambling money to, had apparently had taken some of the owed money out of Frankie's flesh. Frankie and I have never discussed that in any kind of detailers though and I wonder why he doesn't give me any credit for, as he says, the gay thing, I say that because we had something like lover's sex, not whatever Fallon gave him. He goes on to tell me lot's of stuff, but the main thing I keep thinking about is, 'Frankie is still rationalizing everything. He hasn't really admitted vital facts to himself'. For example, according to him he still isn't gay although a number of times he's told me I'd been right about that all along. No, now he claims to be bisexual and that isn't something I've ever told him; I've never mentioned bisexual anything so how am I right about 'the gay thing' like he says I was. The more he goes on, the more details slip into his stories and something else becomes clear: The real reason he and Darleen broke up was he hadn't been able to raise a boner with her. No matter what they tried, no hardon ever resulted and she finally felt humiliated and called him a queer and that's when Frankie told her to hit the road. Except, as further leak in his ramblings are spouted out by Frankie, it sounds to me she was gone before he got a chance to tell her to hit the road. In other words, she left him! I feel sadder and sadder the longer Frankie talks. This kid is messed-up in the head and he's still wicked conflicted. Frankie goes into the now familiar face-saving routine of his; the one where he gives me permission to blow him because he loves me as a friend and because he knows I'm gay. And, for the same reasons, if I ask nicely he'll provide a good fucking on me too. Frankie's thing is he's really only performing masculine sexual acts and I'm doing the female part, but, "No offense intended, Big O". I ask him to stop calling me 'Big O', but he says it's just part of his new cool personality. He says he gives everyone a cool nickname. We smoke and mostly Frankie talks. He and I have always done a lot of goofing around, lying about shit and making stuff up, but we both knew we were bull shitting. As Frankie talks now it seems to me like he really expects me to believe all of his rap, like it isn't part BS, part losing touch with reality, part reaching out for help, with a touch of truth thrown in every now and then. The trick now for me is to pick out the different parts.

What can I do, I love him. No matter, I need to figure out a way to get him more in touch with the real world. After about an hour of talking, Frankie gives me his hoody sweatshirt to wear; its XL and so hangs down below my crotch covering the cum stain on my jeans. He grabs a dungaree jacket off a hook on the garage wall and we take off in my Mini to get some lunch. I wonder at one point if Frankie's on speed or something because he's so wired and talking a mile a minute. When I half jokingly ask, "What the hell drug you using, Frankie?" he assures me he never does anything stronger then beer and cigarettes and that he's excited to see me, that's all. I really, really want to believe him about the drug thing and about seeing me because I have so many fond memories of Frankie and me from our part time job together last summer. If you could just see how excited Frankie can get in his boyish way, telling me about something he thinks is cool or about something he wants to do someday. He's so cute I can overlook a few drawbacks, right? We're at a pizza joint waiting for our pizza, drinking Cokes. Frankie slips and tells me about a kid he's fucking at school, but it's a temporary thing, whatever that means. I ask if he's doing that kid a favor, like he does for me and Frankie looks confused and changes the subject to detail how nobody's like me; I'm awesome according to Frankie, and his best friend too. Then he goes on to tell me he's a member of the gay, bi, lesbian and trans gender club now, as a bisexual. That's where he apparently met this guy who he's fucking. Last summer Frankie had alluded to, but never came right out and said, that he was fucked by Fallon and by a number of clients of Fallons last Spring and Summer for purposes of paying the interest on gambling loans he had with Fallon. He says to me, "You'd be surprised how prevelent sports betting is with college students." Later all his babbling includes that the kid he's fucking actually does most of the fucking, so now apparently Frankie's admitting to me that he doesn't just do the 'masculine part' of gay sex, he does both, but as a bisexual. He assured me five times at least, and without me ever bringing it up even once, that everyone was very conscientious about safe sex and condoms were always a must. Then he slips in, "Oh yeah, big 'O', I mean Oliver, I wonder if you'd mind picking up a six pack of condoms at the drugstore for us". He tells me he's out of them at the moment and he'd need two, at least, to do me up the right way later today so I might just as well get a six pack. I mumble, "We'll see, Frankie."

By now I'm starting to feel depressed and can only eat two pieces of pizza. Frankie eats the rest so at least that hasn't changed, he's always been a fantastic eater, especially for a skinny guy. None of this is right, but god dammit as usual I don't know what to do about it. Frankie whines, "What's wrong Big O? Ya don't seem your old self." "Call me Oliver, okay?" I snap at him, while paying for our lunch. Frankie is a little short of money at the moment. He's so anxious for us to get the condoms that I just gave in and buy them to stop his nagging about it. This is not the reunion with Frankie I've been dreaming of. During the car ride back to Frankie's house he begins changing his attitude. He has a couple of false starts and then tries this approach, "Okay, Oliver, I'm acting like a dick, I know. Sorry, but I'm nervous seeing you again, especially after my phone call to you at your college. You mean a lot to me and I was trying to seem mature with the gay thing, I want to be cool with it, you know. I'm all fucked up to tell ya the truth. Confessing to my mom that I'm bi-sexual was wicked hard and I had to get slightly drunk first. After that I didn't need to sneak around about it so I've had Toby over the house a few times as my boyfriend, trying to be upfront about it. Toby's the kid who does it to me all the time. One day this other dude, Biker, comes over looking for Toby and mom tells her boyfriend she thinks I'm screwing every guy at West Chester U. It hasn't been easy, ya know what I'm saying? He's quiet then and I really do care about him, so as I drive along, I reach my right hand over to ruffle his flattop, like I'd done a couple hundred times last summer, but this time his hair is flat against his head, pulled back in a ponytail; oh yeah, forgot about that for a second. He takes my hand and holds it, saying, "You're still going to be my friend, right Oliver?" I tell him of course I'm his friend, but what I'm primarily trying to get my head around at the moment is what he'd just said: to wit, "Toby's the kid who does me all the time." All the time? Frankie earlier said it was just a couple of times, temporary like, or something to that effect. Man, I don't know what to think.

Frankie gets sentimental and wants to reminisce about last summer, so we do that for awhile and by the time we get back to his house he sounds like the Frankie I know and love. He's being self deprecating and more than a little goofy, but in a sweet way. He isn't trying to be cool or a know it all. We go inside his house because both his mom and her boyfriend left, and the house is empty, it's also pretty run down outside and more of the same inside. Old furniture and bare carpets, everything's ratty looking which makes me think about the money problems Frankie always has; man, some guys have it a lot tougher than others. The place isn't just run down, it's disheveled too. I can't imagine how long it's been since a vacuum cleaner was used on these carpets. Frankie doesn't comment on any of this. "Come out to the kitchen Oliver, let's grab a beer," He get two green bottles of Rolling Rock beer out of a refrigerator full of green bottles, and pop off the caps. The first taste of beer is good, clean, crisp, and refreshing. After the first taste, however, the rest sucks as far as I'm concerned. I drink the bitter stuff to keep Frankie company. He tells me about joining the. 'gay, lesbian, etc' club at college and how he's doing this year with grades. We're the same age, but Frankie graduated high school on time, without missing a year like I did, so he's a year ahead of me at the University. Mostly he talks about his gay experiences. I'm encouraged to finally hear him talking about that stuff in a more rational way. Halfway through the beer he gets out a bottle of Seagram VO and pours an inch of it into juice glasses. The glass he pushes over to me has fingerprints on it's sides and a trace of lipstick at the rim. I try to pass up the shot, but Frankie comes over and rubs up the back of my head asking me to do him a favor and have a shot with him. All the time I'm thinking, he told me earlier his only drug was cigarettes and beer. Guess we'll have to add hard liquor to that list.

Whatever, it's nice having him persuade me like he use to do on the loading docks, rubbing my head and licking my ear and stuff like that, saying, "Come on, Oliver, my best friend, please join me in a shot of whiskey. You're the coolest dude on the summer staff." I tried to remain adamant about not drinking it and tell him about last Saturday night, just the part about me throwing-up trying to do a shot of Tequila, not all the other sexy parts. He persists in a real sweet manner though, saying, "Tequila? No wonder you heaved, this is VO. I'd never give you anything like tequila. This is so smooth it rolls off your tongue and down your throat." Oh well, I don't want to screw up this good frame of mind he's in, so I pick up the glass and swallow the VO in one gulp, trying hard not to taste it. The whiskey burns all the way down. Taking a big slug from my bottle of beer and then a big drag on my cigarette covers up my urge to hurl. Frankie cheers as saliva floods my mouth and sweat brakes out on my forehead while my stomach lurches twice, both times threatening to vomit up the VO. It stays down, but just barely. Frankie laughs, saying, "We're suppose to do it together!". He pours me another. Oh man! We touch glasses and throw the VO down our throats with me experiencing the same reaction as the first shot; this one stays down too, although it threatens to come back up. A nauseous feeling hounds me for a couple of minutes, and then I begin to recover. It's worth the trouble though because Frankie's patting me on the back and calling me a hot shit and telling me he loves me; then he opens two more beers saying, "This is more like I'm use to, Oliver. Party hardy, dude! West Chester rocks with all the booze parties, how bout Penn?" While he sips on another inch of VO, I tell him, "Not so much in the area of booze parties and I need to take care of my roommate, like I told ya about, so we don't get out too often." Frankie isn't listening, he's generally more interested in what he has to say and I don't recall this being the case last summer. Right now he's busy going through his mother's CD collection. The VO is definitely rolling around in my veins and I'm feeling more relaxed. Telling myself I'm having fun, especially when Frankie gets back to acting like the Frankie from last summer, the one I fell in love with.

He hooks up a CD player and music blasts loudly, with a good beat, making me want to move, keeping time with the beat. I'd never heard this hot music before and Frankie explains, "It's club or house music, Oliver. You've never heard this stuff before?" Shrugging I shake my head. He says, "Hip Hop. Fools really dance to it super hard, man. Listen to that and watch this," and he does a cool dance, and his moves are so hot. It impresses me as Frankie goes on to say it's his mom's CD from ten, fifteen years ago; minimal, proto-break beat house music from the nineties. She has Doo Doo Brown and Cajmere's 'Percolator', and 'What Chew Know About Down The Hill,' and lot's of others too. Jeez, wonder when Frankie learned to speak a foreign language, so I ask him and he laughs, then kisses my mouth and takes my hands to pull me up out of my chair, "Come on, Oliver, let's dance". He looks young and happy and excited; Frankie gets like a little kid some times. The only dance lessons I've ever had were from Cristobal and Pattie, so I dance like they showed me, but Frankie shows me how to move his way to the music and it's so cool. After three or four songs, with the help of those earlier two shots of VO and beers, I feel as though I'm dancing pretty damn good. We dance in his kitchen till sweat rolls down our faces. Twenty minutes or so, and then take a break for more beer and a smoke. This really is fun now. Frankie takes his shirt off and makes be take mine off too. We start dancing again, our sweaty bare, skinny tight bodies rub against one another and it's sexy hot!. Without a shirt Frankie's definitely putting out some armpit BO; it's not nearly as strong as Myers', but there's no mistaking it for anything except BO and it's just so unlike Frankie.. He was always so clean last summer and I wonder about that although it's not a big deal to me. Actually it's kinda sexy with the bare chested dancing. Probably most wouldn't agree, but I can only be me, and the body oder of certain boys is a turn-on for me. Our dancing together continues for almost an hour and then we need to take a break. I'm slightly drunk, but not smashed. Frankie makes some horrid microwave popcorn with artificial butter that I'd probably consider uneatable if I wasn't a little drunk, and it helps soak up the beer and VO in my stomach.

I'm sitting on one of their old armless kitchen chairs as Frankie gives me a smirk and then sits on my lap facing me. Smiling at each other, Frankie says, "I really love ya, bro!" I mutter, "Me too, Frankie," and then we proceed to have a fantastic make-out. Both our boners poking each other in the crotch. He has both his arms around my neck, his BO's very strong, but by now I'm addicted to it, and that's probably because I'm addicted to Frankie, and love being with him; love being with him so much I could cry sometimes. Love is a very strong emotion. After making out for awhile, he says, "Come upstairs with me, Oliver, I want to fuck you in my bedroom." There's an ever so slight tone of authority in how he says it too; just enough to make my boner twitch and this authority is new as well. I'm surprised, thinking, 'Oh, Frankie's going to do me again, and I really want it from him too'. There's been other sex between us, but actually very little when you consider we were together so much last summer, and whatever sex there was, I had to initiated. Now Frankie initiated it, and he hadn't said anything about doing it 'as a favor to me' either. He's going to fuck me because he wants to and this is a wonderful thing to me. His bedroom's a total mess and there's a funky smell, but once again Frankie doesn't seem the least self conscious about it. He moves stuff out of the way, saying, "Take everything off, Oliver, including your socks. First you'll suck my cock to get it hard and then rim me to get me all hot and bothered. Okay? Do you know what rimming is?" I mumble, "Sure," thinking, 'I guess I do because I've done it to you before,' but I don't say that. He sounds so different from the Frankie I'm use to and this is like the third or forth version of Frankie I've been with today. A very hot version though, so I do what he says. Frankie gets just as naked as me and I get on my knees in front of him as an odd look comes over him. Then he slowly says, "Your body shave is sooo fucking cool." I tell him it was done by a friend five days ago and my growing out pubic stubble is itching like mad. Frankie goes, "I'll fix that, " as he's pulling both my hands, helping me up. Following him into the bathroom, he has me stand next to the sink and he wets down and lathers up my pubic area. Then, with a cute grin on his lips, says, "I need to take care of my boyfriend," and uses a safety razor to shave my pubic stubble until I'm smooth as a baby's bottom again. Frankie's very good with the razor too and I think of Pete, the mailroom boy who last summer had his pubes shaved and wonder again if Frankie had something going with that kid way back then. When I'm hairless down there, Frankie wants me to do him saying he's had shaved pubes from time to time and really liked it. Using a pair of scissors I cut off a lot of Frankie's long, bright red pubic hairs while he stands on a spread-out newspaper. We wrap up the newspaper and dump it in the trash. Naturally we reminisce about the time I cut most of his pubes off last summer due to an accident he'd had. He said he knew it was sexy, but was in so much pain from the splinter that it's the pain he mostly remembers. I remembered that experience like it happened yesterday, and I also think about me cutting and then shaving Joey's pubes; Joey loves to have his pubes shaved. Frankie asks me to cut his pubes shorter with the scissors so the razor won't pull when I shave him, so I go over his pubic patch again cutting them down to the skin almost with the short pieces drifting to the bathroom floor. It's fun, but like I said earlier, Frankie's a tad smelly. Finally done with the scissors, I do the same wetting, lathering, and shaving of Frankie that he'd done on me. Smooth, hairless bellies and balls feel so cool. Neither of us had much hair on our legs or arms so we leave it at that.

Back in his bedroom he gets me situated in front of him on my knees again, but this time, except for our heads, we're hairless boys. Planning ahead, I'd taken the opportunity to wash Frankie's ass while I was lathering his pubes because earlier he'd mentioned rimming. Sure enough, Frankie mentions it again, "Suck me off real good Oliver, and then I want a hot riming from you with a lot of tongue up in there. You say ya know how to rim, right?" Nodding my head that I do, he takes hold of my head with both hands, lining my mouth right up against his balls, my nose pressed in his belly right where his pubic hair used to be, and tells me to put my arms around his legs and rub up and down his legs as I suck his cock, but I'm not to stroke myself. He doesn't want to miss out on the fun of making me climax while fucking me. Frankie says, "Okay, boyfriend, get started by lapping my balls, then get them both in your mouth and give them a good sucking and humming, then you'll get your reward of taking my big cock in your mouth. Heh, heh, heh, that's the way Toby has me do him and I want to see how it feels. Got it?" Nodding my head that I got it, I'm thinking, 'Toby again,' but forget that. My face pressed to his crotch, which smells okay now that I'd wet and cleaned it prior to shaving him, but still there's a definite lingering odor of unwashed balls. Because they're Frankie's unwashed balls though, the odor gets my dick tingling and a bit stiff. Frankie's cock and balls are still completely loose and limp from the washing and shaving. He has big nuts and a big cock, both look even bigger without hair around them. My right arm casually wraps around his thigh with my hand massaging his left buttock, and my other hand slowly rubbing up and down his leg going from the top of his foot up his calf through the fine hairs there, over his thigh and around to squeeze his buttock and back down the same way. Frankie has one of the cutest asses I've ever seen on a boy, each buttock shaped like a half of a good sized cantaloupe. The very short pale hairs on his calf are silky as I rub up and down in the short blond hairs five or six times, enjoying how it feels. At the same time I'm licking his balls with the widest part of my tongue, my mouth's open as wide as it gets. Licking from right next to his hole, then up and over his nut sac to that spot right under his cock with my nose moving his cock out of the way as I come up on it.

With balls this big I figured there was no way I can get both in my mouth at the same time, so I do them one at a time. Spit running down my chin and my dick getting harder and harder I suck his lower nut into my mouth and tongue it like crazy. Frankie pulls my hair grunting, "Yeah, suck my balls, bitch." After that ball is dripping with spit I push it out with my tongue and suck in the higher nut with Frankie making a long hissing sound between his teeth when I bite down on it lightly. He smacks the top of my head twice so I stop doing that. While licking and sucking his balls I continued to rub up and down his leg and massage his ass cheek. After the third or forth time of that he instructs in a strangely stern manner, "Don't even think about pushing a finger up my hole, that's what your tongue is for." My God, that bossy tone of voice! Its so sexy and unexpected, and to think it's coming from baby-faced Frankie. I'm not allowed to stroke my cock, but sucking off a young guy is so hot to me that I need concentrate all my thoughte and efforts on that. Really getting into it I quickly have Frankie shuffling his feet and breathing hard. His balls are dripping with saliva when he says, "Hey cunt, I said to get them both in your mouth at the same time. Get with it, Frankie." What? He called me count, and Frankie? That must be how that kid Toby treats Frankie and Frankie's mimicking him. I almost stop sucking on his nuts to ask about that, but the thought slips away as I try getting both those big balls in my mouth at the same time. Hard to believe, but I finally succeed because they're so slippery with my spit. I squeezed then in, just barely, I'm gagging from the lower nut laying on my gag reflex area. Frankie pulls my hair again, groaning, "Suck my balls, Oliver, suck em good!" Ignoring the gagging I try tightening my cheeks, which squeezes his nuts one in front of the other, creating a tiny bit of room in my mouth to do some noisy sucking on those huge hairless nuts. Slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp, slurp. "Lick those nuts, Oliver, lap em! You'll get your reward."

My throat aches from the effort of moving my tongue and sucking with my mouth so wide open like this, but I manage to lick under his balls and Frankie's cock is boning-up good. It's laying next to my nose with the wet head on my forehead. Frankie pulls my hair harder, saying in a low, sing-song voice that's almost a mantra, "Suck my balls, suck my big balls, suck on those balls." Sweat rolling down my forehead, I've gotten use to the overloaded mouth and I'm doing some serious sucking on that mouthful of nuts, both my arms wrapped around his legs tightly and I'm having a good old time with my boner bobbing up and down as my body sways slightly with the sucking and lapping, only stopping the sucking to hum real hard getting those nuts vibrating. Frankie really likes that. Saliva runs in rivlets down either side of my mouth to my neck and onto my chest. The combined smell of my saliva and Frankie's slightly dirty body is sexy to me beyond words. Frankie groans, then mumbles breathlessly, "Okay you did pretty good, now you get your reward and start sucking that big, fat cock of mine," and he smacks across the top of my head harder then the last time and it stings. I'm into a sexual trance by now, and knowing it's Frankie's big balls makes just anything he does fine with me. If my mouth weren't so full I'd be moaning with pleasure. His balls, his skin, everything tastes so good I don't even care that he's playing that Toby kid's role, like I initially speculated. That might piss most guys off, but it's fine with me because of my submissive side when gay sex is involved. With a mouthful of saliva worked up, I transfer a lot of it to his fat cock and begin long laps up and down and all around his now hard boner. After a few minutes of that he's really getting hot, as he wheezes, "Put it in now, Oliver," and I suck the head in my mouth and suck and lick and it simply taste so good to me that the head of my own cock is wet too and I'm quietly moaning with sexual pleasure.

Frankie let's me suck him off for a minute and then grabs hold of the back of my head with both hands to pull my face flat against his belly, my nose buried in his belly button, his boner going down my throat. Lot of pressure at the back of my head forcing his cock as far down my throat as possible, then he pulls back his hips to slide his sloppy cock back up to my mouth where I sucked it like it's the most delicious thing on earth. Then back down my throat it goes with Frankie moaning, then saying, "Yes, cocksucker, suck your man's cock." When it's almost to my Adam's apple, Frankie mutters sternly, "Swallow, swallow god dammit!" Doing my best to please him I swallow as best I can and after a little of that, Frankie says, "That's enough Oliver, I don't wanna cum. Get that tongue of your's ready to lap my asshole now." Frankie tells me to stay on my knees, but I'm to turn around, facing away from him. As I do that he explains, "This is how my, um, that is, Toby wants me to do it for his quickie rim jobs; that's what we call them, quickies." As he's saying that his huge wet boner bobs out in front of him and I gulp thinking about that thing going up my ass. Frankie grabs my head with both hands, then holding around the back of my neck he roughly bends my head back, positioned my head between his legs with his hole over my mouth. He's breathing heavily as he squats down with his legs spread and moves my head until my nose is between his ass crack. I wrap my arms around the front of his knees to keep from falling over backwards, Frankie moves his hips forward and back a little, rubbing his ass crack and his hole all over my nose and mouth before positioning his hole so that my nose is poking it and then slowly moving his hole down until it's over my mouth. I begin by licking along his crack near his hole, over and over with big, wet licks. Actually, I like rimming, although not so much in this awkward position. Funny, but a year ago I would have bet you a million dollars I'd never rim anybody. Now it seems to me to be a very sexy, submissive thing to do. My tongue's stretched pretty good from the balls and cock sucking and it's really working on Frankie's ass. Moving my dripping tongue up his entire crack, from just behind his nut sac right up till my eyes are looking up over his buttock and up his back. My neck's stretching with Frankie digging his fingers in, keeping my face tight against his buttocks.

When his crack is slippery with spit I concentrate on licking just the asshole opening and it loosens up pretty quickly. Soon it's loose enough for me push part my tongue inside. Frankie's moaning and making humming sounds, but he's stopped the crazy jive pimp rap. He occasionally pulls my face up against his ass so tightly I can't breathe. My tongue's aching, but it's seriously sexually hot for me and I begin considering the possibility of spontaneously climaxing again. Just when I'm about to have an orgasm, Frankie pulls my head away and in a voice I can barely hear, he mumbles, "Get the condom off the bed now, Oliver". I stare at his boner again. It looks like he's going to blow his load right now, his nuts are like hard agates up tight against his crotch. This is one sexy reunion, filled with surprises. Wonder how Frankie's gonna want to fuck me. Damn, I'd like to stroke my boner. I lean forward and suck precum from Frankie's boner before getting the condom like Frankie told me to do.

to be continued... Chapter 24 (Frankie and Aaron) Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com

Please consider a tax deductible contribution to nonprofit Nifty. Details at the sight. Thank you