Waiting for a Miracle

WAITING FOR A MIRACLE

By Donny Mumford

Chapter 21 "How Many Miracles Can One Person Have?"

Mickey now wants to be our driver. He needed to drive us because of my Lysik surgery, Saturday, and, even though I was perfectly capable of driving the following Monday, Mickey drove me to and from work... to be on the safe side. Today, Tuesday, he drove me to work again, the reason this time was he needs to drive to our rental apartment to measure the rooms and make plans for where the furniture his dad is giving us will fit best. In actuality, he wants to be our driver, period.

And, I know why he wants to drive. He hasn't said as much, but it's because he feels, since he does all 'the guy' stuff, part of that is driving. That's a leftover concept from the middle of the twentieth century, but I think it's cute of him to think like that. What's coming next though, Mickey holding doors open for me? Haha, but I'm not going to mention any of that to Mickey because it would embarrass him.

I like Mickey driving us. Driving is often a hassle and I'm happy to avoid the hassle. Plus, I like walking out of the UPS building Tuesday afternoon, and there's my driver parked and waiting for me. He drives up, and says, "Hi, Burke. I just got here. I was worried I'd be late. An accident on Garret Road has everything fucked up and I had to come the long way."

Smiling as I'm getting in, I say, "You're the most dependable person I've ever known, Michael. If you were late I'd assume there was a good reason for it." It's become automatic now that I, without hesitating, lean over the gear shift to kiss him 'hello'. Sitting back in my seat, I mumble, "You always smell sexy."

Rolling his eyes at that remark, he rolls his eyes, saying, "What an unusual thing to tell me," putting the car in gear, he asks, "How'd it go today, babe?" I snap on my seatbelt and shrug, mumbling, "Work was okay, I guess. Um, did you get all the measurements we'll need?" He points at a clipboard in the storage pocket on my door. I pull it out and see all kinds of diagrams and measurements for our floor plan.

As he's driving us away, he says, "Yep, as you can see, there are all the measurements we could possibly need moving the furniture in." I'm like, "Huh. Yeah, I'll say, and the rental agent didn't give you any shit about going into the apartment ten days before the lease starts?" He shakes his head, "Nope, the apartment is vacant and the rental lady was very nice about giving me the key. I returned it though, so I don't have it now."

Oh man, ten days from now we'll be living together!

I'd like to talk about that more, but Mickey looks over at me, and says, "I don't mean to be a nag about this, Burke, but have you called your brother yet?" He means to tell Roger I'm gay. I go, "No, but I'm sure my parents have already told him about my queerness." He goes, "Come on, babe! You need to tell him yourself too. He deserves to hear it from you." I've been putting this off, and I hesitate now, mumbling, "I'll call him tonight, okay?" Mickey says, "No, do it now," and I go, "Jesus! Okay, for Christ's sake!" Bossy Mickey...

I hit speed-dial for Roger and I hear him talking to someone. He's at work talking on his business cell phone, saying, "Right, Gail, that's perfect," and then talking into his private cell phone, he says to me, "Hi, Mattie. How ya doing, buddy?" and before I can answer, he adds, "Bro, I already heard the news." I say, "Hi, Roger, yeah, I assumed Mom called you. I wanted to tell you myself, but I've been chickening-out doing that. Um, are you, ah, mad at me, or... no, you wouldn't be mad at me, ah..."

He says, "Calm yourself down, brother, I love you. Listen, I wanna take you and Michael to dinner tonight. Can you guys drive into town around seven o'clock to meet me at Scarpatio's Restaurant?" I'm like, "What? Why do you wanna take us to dinner?" He laughs, "Why? Because I wanna see you, Mattie, and I want to meet Michael. And, hey, I'm friends with the waitress at Scarpatio's, so, she'll serve you guys drinks if you want a cocktail, okay?"

I glance at Mickey as I say to Roger, "Gee, that's awfully nice of you. Let me ask Mickey." Mickey looks at me, and I ask, "Did you hear that, Mick? Roger wants to treat us to dinner tonight. Is it okay with you?" He goes, "Sure, that's awesome." I tell Roger, and he's like, "Great, see you guys at seven. Sorry, but I've got another call, Mattie. Um, and good for you, bro! We'll talk more."

No goodbye, he just clicks onto his other call. Well, nobody says goodbye. Taking a deep breath, I'm like, "Yeah, he already knew, as I expected he would. It's odd he wants to take us to dinner though, don't ya think?" Mickey says, "The reason he's taking us to dinner is to check me out. See if I'm worthy." I go, "Nooo! Um, do you really think so?" I suppose something like that is obvious to Mickey, but I would never have thought of it in a million years. Huh, it's an Asperger's thing with me, I guess.

We go to my house, and inside, Mickey says, "After we get our 'rocks' off, Burke, we're gonna show up at the park." I ask, "Why are we gonna do that?" Mickey shrugs, "So the guys can break our balls about us being queer boyfriends... get it out of their systems. Get it over with, ya know?" I nod, "Yeah, fuck 'em, right Mickey?" He goes, "Nah, just get it over with. Statistically, there's probably one or two other 'closeted' gay guys from the neighborhood. If so, they will most likely be uber disdainful of us fags." Frowning, I go, "Don't use that word."

In my bedroom, we take our clothes off and MIckey says, "Come here, Mattie, I wanna feel that hot naked body of yours." We wrap our arms around one another as I mutter, "You're the one with the hot body," and he goes, "Shhh, be quiet," and we hug for a minute. Then he kisses me and murmurs, "I was thinking about you all day, babe. When I was at the apartment taking measurements, I'd stop, look around hardly believing we'll be living together next week. It seemed surreal, but it is real. Living with you will be the most exciting thing that's ever happened to me."

Then, letting go of me, he spreads his legs slightly, murmuring, "You and me, Burke, huh? Fantastic." Nodding, I get on my knees and lift his penis, saying, "It's the best thing that's ever happened to me too, MIckey. Whenever I try imagining what it'll be like, it just seems too good to be true." Nodding, he murmurs, "I agree, but it is true." Then, we stop talking and concentrate on our oral sex.

Blowing Mickey, doing oral sex on him, is one of my most favorite things to do, period. I quickly get fully involved sucking his cock, and then lightly licking around his smooth groin and sucking gently on his nuts, and under his nuts, and then I do it all again. These are very intimate ways of showing him that I'm embracing my role being subordinate to my leader, my lover, and my best friend ever. And, well, haha, doing this is enormously arousing for me too! It's sorta odd, but I get an iron-hard boner before Mickey does.

Meanwhile, he can't stand still, his feet shuffle as he quietly moans at the sensations coming from his super sensitive penis. He has a hand behind my head, the fingers of the other hand ruffling back through my hair until all of it is standing up straight. When pre-cum drools out on my tongue, Mickey lifts my chin, pats my cheek, grins at me, and pushes his hard cock into my throat.

Deepthroating is the only aspect of oral sex that Mickey thinks is sexier than I do. I don't love deep throating as much as he does, although in the right frame of mind it can be incredibly arousing for me too. When it works smoothly I get this unbelievable sense of submissiveness and it's a strange kind of a massive turn-on for me... very, very 'hot' and sexy. It's the most dominant sex act Mickey does with me. While all that is true when it works, when it doesn't work and I'm gagging like mad, it's my least favorite sex act. So, mostly, I'm hoping Mickey picks his spots and doesn't do it too often.

And, yeah, deepthroating gets Mickey 'off' faster than anything else we do sexually. He groans at the intense thrill of it, groans and moans each time he pushes his hard boner down my throat. Today I get caught up in Mickey's arousal and start stroking my hard cock up and down each time his cock goes up and down in my throat. Pretty quickly, we both shoot off, doing it together. Great climaxes too!

My fast-moving stream of cum flashes out in a straight line between Mickey's legs to splatter against the bottom drawer of the bureau, while at the same time Mickey's climax of creamy cum shoots down my throat coating my esophagus. That makes me cough and sputter, and then, when he pulls his cock out of my mouth a string of cum sticks to the head. It shimmers in the sunlight that's shining through the window before breaking free to wetly stick to my chin, then it wraps itself down under my chin to my throat. A thin string of sticky wetness that I'm wiping at as I stand.

Mickey's face is red as he goes, "Jesus Christ, that felt spectacular! Wow, Burke, you're a fuckin' magician!" I'm always telling him his fucking is like 'magic' because it's so good at it, so he's turning the tables, compliment-wise, on me. I mutter, "I do try to please the magic-master." He's shaking his head, grinning and mumbling, "Deep throating is sexy fun, huh, babe? I love that you can do that." Hmm, actually, that's the part of oral sex HE does, the rest of it I do.

As we get in bed I'm glowing a little from Mickey's compliments. I snuggle in against him, his arm behind my neck holding me tightly. And, I know I'm a broken record saying this, but I think again how incredibly lucky I am to be Mickey's boyfriend. It's like all my bad luck of a lifetime is being paid back with good luck, all of it concentrated into the last three months with Mickey.

We're quiet as Mickey continues playing with my hair, and it gets to be kind of hypnotizing. I mean, the way his fingers slowly go back and forth on my head time after time, and, every so often he'll kiss my forehead as he's ruffling my hair, and murmur something sweet and loving. It's all, well, it's hypnotizing. I feel like we're both happiest when giving one another pleasure; Mickey while fucking me and me when doing oral sex for him, and then it's our cuddling afterward that shows his affection and love for me.

Sure, we both get 'off' as we're giving the other pleasure, but that makes it better. It's as though I'm the 'engine' of pleasure doing oral sex on him and he's the 'engine' of pleasure when fucking me. There isn't any way to overstate how wonderful it is to feel loved by the same boy who you love with a passion.

On the other hand, life is fucked up too. I mean, how is it possible that Mickey and I have known each other since grade school and we're so perfect together, but yet we never connected until this summer? All that lost time together! And what if Mickey or I weren't at the reservoir that day, or we were there, but he never got the nerve to ask me to jump off that ledge with him, or do any of the other things he initiated... what then? Would we have gone on with our lives never knowing what we're missing? The randomness of it all is frightening! To think how close it was that Mickey and I might never have happened.

Refusing to think about that any longer, I concentrate on how much we both like snuggling like this. Yeah, it is another thing that Mickey got us doing after our very first sex act. And, no, I was not 'good' with it at all because he seemed too small to be doing it. He insisted on it though, which was an early indicator that he'd be our leader; that he'd be 'the guy' and I'd be the 'other'. So, no, I wasn't crazy about it at first, wasn't comfortable initially because I'm bigger than Mickey. Now, Omigod, I'm so glad he made me do it 'cause once I got into it, it's become one of the favorite things we do together.

This afternoon we lie together without talking for a long time. Well, I don't know how long, but long enough for Mickey's balls to manufacture more spunky semen, and long enough that the parts of our bodies touching are sweaty and sticking together. I squirm against him and move my leg in between Mickeys, bumping his cock. You know, to get 'fresh' bodily contact. MIckey does a sigh and says, "You are a sexy boy, Burke, and I love it. Um, and yep, it's time you get us a condom, babe."

I happily do that and then hop back on the bed, getting between Mickey's legs. He holds his dick up to me and I suck on it, quickly turning it into a boner. That takes all of forty seconds, and then I roll the condom on his long hard cock, and Mickey says, "Doggy style." On the bed, doing doggy style fucking is a rocking affair as the mattress's 'give' gets us bouncing. It's a fun fuck although it ends with me lying on the bed sticking my ass up. Shortly we have a couple of really satisfying climaxes; one for Mickey and one for me.

The problem with me being on my stomach is I shoot my climax on the sheet and then lie on it. After we clean up in the bathroom, we change the bedding, and now Mickey wants us to go to the park and take our medicine from the guys. Be there so they can break our balls for being 'out' gay boyfriends. Finished 'making' the bed, Mickey asks, "Should we wear our Lenape Lake tiny swimsuits to freak the guys out even more?" I'm like, "That idea gets a big fat NO from me!" and I immediately add, "But, you were joking, right? Um, you were joking, right?" He gives me a 'look' like, 'Duh, no shit'. I mutter, "Don't give me that 'look', I knew it was a joke."

Mickey drives us to the park where we see quite a few guys hanging out there this Tuesday afternoon. It's a hot day, which is not unusual for this late in August, and some of the guys have their shirts off. Half of then have some hair on their chests, which is a 'look' I don't care for at all. No, I like the smooth-bodied boys, like Mick and me.

Dean is smoking a joint with Grace Falco at the picnic table, and as Mickey and I walk from the parking lot, Dean yells, "Omigod, here comes my fag buddy, Mattie Burke." Then he points at Mickey, yelling, "Miller, I know you seduced that innocent boy! He was never queer with me." Grace yells, "Don't listen to him, Mattie. Come here, sweetie, join us."

At the picnic table, I say, "Wow, such a nice welcome, Grace. Thank you, and I don't mind if I do join you," as I take the joint from her. I inhale some good shit, and, as I'm exhaling, Grace says, "Your haircut is sick-cool, Mattie." Christ, she's never been this nice to me before, but then, she's high-as-a-kite right now.

Dean's yelling got Jello's attention. He and two of his posse look over at us from near Darby creek where they're holding a middle school kid on the bank of the creek, obviously bullying him and just about to throw him in the creek. Jello mutters to one of his flunkies, "Let him go," and walks toward the picnic table where Dean is lighting another joint. Mickey's taking a 'toke' off the one Grace gave me, and, as Jello's walking toward us, he's shouting, "I heard about you two queer boys. Both of you fags, Burke and Miller, you're both out of my fan club!"

Then, when he gets to us, he grins as he puts his arms around both our necks, pulling our heads together, saying, "You knuckleheads! I knew you two were sucking each other's cock," and he kisses each of us on the cheek, saying, "Fuck it, you can still be in my fan club." Letting us go, he says to Dean, "Hey, give me a toke off that fucking joint." Jello has a lot of energy!

Artie Guy touches my arm, and quietly says to me, "It wasn't me who told the guys that you're Mickey's boyfriend, Mattie. I know who did, but I better not say." I'm like, "Hey, Artie, don't fuckin' worry about it. Christ, I came 'out' to my parents so I don't give a shit who else knows it."

Charlie Snyder walks over with Brenda Cummins and Billy Doyle. Charlie is grinning, saying, "Hey, the two faggot celebrities are attracting a crowd, huh?" Then he bumps fists with me, mumbling, "How's it feel being queer, dude?" I roll my eyes at him and he takes the joint from Jello, saying to me, "You're looking cooler than you used to, Burke. Miller too, what's up with that shit?" I can't think of anything wise-ass to say, so I just mutter, "I don't know."

There are more snide, insulting comments about us queer boyfriends, but all in all, I'm kinda disappointed the guys couldn't come up with better 'material' to break our balls with. I think they're taking pity on us because we've always been the quiet guys who went along with the crowd. Or, more likely, as I was thinking the other day, they simply don't care about us enough one way or the other, gay or not. Kinda sad for Mickey and me, except that these guys don't realize that Mickey and I are now cooler than all of them, and living life more fully than they are, so...

Ten minutes later, that prick Terrence Baker shows up selling cans of cold Miller beer out of a cooler in the trunk of his car. It's two bucks a can and he sells two cases in fifteen minutes and then takes off calling all of us losers. Terrence is Mark's cousin and, as much as I liked Mark, I'm glad he wasn't with Terrence. I don't know, but I'm with Mickey and he insists I be with him exclusively, so I'd rather not see Mark anymore. Huh, I didn't know I felt that way until just now.

Mickey and I get slightly 'high' from smoking shared joints from the guys and from drinking eight dollars worth of beers, which doesn't help the situation considering we're having dinner with Roger tonight. We only have two beers each, which is two too many. Mickey pulls me aside, saying, "Let's go back to your house." I nod, and then pat Dean on the shoulder, saying, "See ya later, buddy." Most of the guys and girls are 'high' by now and playing a drinking game. No one but Dean even notices we're leaving.

We get back to the house at a quarter to five and Mickey fucks me in the kitchen. We pull our pants down far enough to do that and then fuck without a fresh condom or using our KY Jelly. Just the leftover lube from earlier. Yeah, I like Mickey's bare cock shooting his jism inside me, and when he pulls his cock out I grabbed it and squeezed out the last bubble of cum.

Mickey gives me a funny 'look' and then swats my ass twice, saying, "Well, that bareback fuck felt good baby," and then he smacks my ass again, grinning and mumbling, "I'd like to put you over my knee and spank you properly, but I gotta take off for home now. I need to get ready for tonight's dinner with your brother." Rubbing my stinging ass, I nod my head, grinning at him. As we pull up our shorts, I ask, "What time tonight, Mick?" He gives my shoulder a squeeze, mumbling, "Um, I'll pick you up at six-fifteen. That'll give us plenty of time to drive into town to meet your brother at seven."

I'm rubbing my ass again but this time because I'm feeling Mickey's cum drooling out, I go, "Yeah, okay," and then, "Ya know, um, when I'm naughty, Mick, you definitely should put me over your knee and spank my bare ass properly." We're walking to the front door, both of us snickering at that because he'd have a hard time doing that with his small legs.

He opens the door and I pull him back to kiss him goodbye, mumbling, "Hey, did you think you were gonna leave without a kiss?" He snickers, "I should have known you wouldn't let that happen." I smirk at him, and rub his shoulder wanting another kiss, as he says, "Hey, weren't you the one who was against doing routine kissing?" I go, "I changed my mind, alright? You and I are lovers who kiss hello and goodbye. Get used to it." He smiles, "Okay, you cute motherfucker, I guess I will get used to it. See you in an hour or so, Burke."

Oh fuck, he's a magic boy. He put a 'spell' on me and now I can't keep my hands off him, or my lips. And, Christ, I just got the shivers! Omigod, Mickey turns me on like a motherfucker. Heh heh, neither of us said 'motherfucker' two times in our lives before we met, and now we say it frequently. But just to be funny, ya know?

I text mom, which is a rare event; we hardly ever text. I text her to tell her I won't be home for dinner tonight because Roger invited me and Mickey to have dinner with him. She doesn't text back but I didn't think she would because she's at work. Also, I kinda think she already knows about the dinner with Roger. It was probably her idea.

Wishing I hadn't drunk the two beers, I feel fuzzy as I take a shower and get dressed in freshly ironed shorts and a Polo golf shirt. Kinda dressing up for dinner at a restaurant. Mickey says my brother wants to 'check him out', but that doesn't sound like Roger's MO. I'm sure it was my mom who asked him to see what he thinks of Michael Miller. She has always had this 'thing' in her head that everybody is out to take advantage of me. It's as if she thinks I'm a retard or something, probably because of that autism label associated with Asperger's Syndrom.

Wearing my sunglasses, I'm outside waiting for Mickey and he, as usual, is right on time. I get in the car, immediately leaning over to kiss him. He takes a deep breath and says, "Gee, babe, we just left each other an hour ago. I love that you want to kiss me, but isn't this overdoing it?" Fighting off another urge to pout, I go, "Yes, in this instance you're right. I wasn't thinking, sorry." He goes, "Jesus, you don't need to say you're sorry, it's just that, um..." I go, "Yeah, I do need to say it, Mickey. I'm sorry for overdoing a good thing. I know I overdo stuff, and I'm trying not to."

Driving away, he mumbles, "Christ, I wish I never said anything. I'm honored you want to kiss me, I really am. Let's start over," and he pulls to the curb at the end of my street, and says, "Get out and get in again, okay? We'll start over." Rolling my eyes, I get halfway out and then sit back and close the door, saying, "Hi, MIckey," and he says, "What, no kiss hello for me?" That makes me laugh and then mutter, "What the fuck?"

Driving away chuckling, he goes, "You look beautiful tonight, baby." I mutter, "Oh, sure," and he goes, "This was a better start to our night." I smirk at him and then stare, thinking he's awesome! Mickey snickers and, without looking at me, mumbles, "You're staring at me again." I go, "No, I'm not." Driving toward Philly, he asks, "Do you know how to get to the restaurant?"

I go, "Yes, I was there once, which is probably why Roger chose Scarpatio's. Stay on this road until you get to Broad Street." Mickey says, "Yeah, okay. Um, during dinner I'm gonna do my best to be more sociable than I was at that cookout." I say, "That shouldn't be hard to do," and he snickers, muttering, "Be nice." I go, "You can be any way you want, Mickey. I love you as you are, and if somebody doesn't like it, fuck 'em." Then I quickly add, "Was that an over-the-top, over-doing-it thing to say?" MIckey goes, "No, it was perfect. Thank you."

There's valet parking in front of the restaurant, so that's cool. When we walk inside, Roger's waiting for us even though we're ten-minutes early. We do a brotherly hug and then I introduce Mickey, and Roger goes to shake hands with him. Mickey wasn't ready for a handshake though; he was doing a fist bump so it was like Roger shook hands with Mickey's fist. He laughs at that, saying, "Yeah, Michael, shaking hands is becoming 'depasse', huh?" Mickey says, "Um, I don't speak Spanish very well, but, um, I should have known to shake hands."

Roger laughs, mumbling, "Spanish? Good one, Michael," and pats his back. Even I know that was French. So what? That went pretty well. Hoping to move things along, I change the subject, telling Roger, "I call him Michael, but mostly everyone calls him Mickey." Roger goes, "Okay, it'll be 'MIckey' from now on, nice to meet you, Mickey." Mickey says, "Likewise, I'm sure," and we step over to the reception desk.

The lady behind the podium smiles too hard as Roger tells her his name and asks for a table in Dalia's section. No problem, we get seated right away. Sitting, Roger says, "I know the waitress, Dalia Brown. She's my neighbor," and two seconds later she's at our table. Roger stands and they hug, um, kinda intimately if you ask me. He introduces me as his brother, and then introduces MIckey as my boyfriend. Way to go, Roger!

Dalia Brown is a dynamite-looking African American woman with beautiful coffee-with-cream skin coloring and big dark eyes and a wickedly friendly smile. Yeah, that hug Roger and she had... hmm, it made me think, huh! Anyway, Dalia asks, "What can I get you, boys, to drink?" Roger orders a Maker's Mark and water. She smiles at me, asking, "And for you, Matthew?" Not knowing what Maker's Mark is, I say, "I'll have the same, please," and then Mickey says, "Um, I'm driving, so I'll have a Coke, please."

Maker's Mark is bourbon, as it turns out, but the water and ice help make it drinkable. Roger's charming as he casually asks questions about our apartment, about Mickey's plans to become an attorney, his plans to work with his father, about my plans to start college in January, and about my job, and every other fucking thing he could think of, it seems.

He's like, "Um, so, it's great you have no problem financing all this, huh Mattie?" I tell him how much I make and how much I have in the bank and how much our apartment's rent is until, finally, Roger holds up his hand, saying, "No, no, Mattie. I don't want to pry into all that, bro. It's none of my business." Yeah, well, he said that only after finding out every detail, but that's okay 'cause he probably needs to report back to mom and relieve her concerns.

During dinner, Mickey's extremely sociable and, I think, he's being kinda mature too. Ya know, if I was Roger I'd be impressed with my little brother's boyfriend. I'm getting the impression that's how Roger feels too. Yes, he pried into our lives with many personal questions, but he did it in an inoffensive manner as though he was sincerely interested. His questions were casually slipped into the conversation in a way they didn't seem like an interrogation. I'm impressed by how he managed to do that. And, I never felt that Mickey was upset answering the questions about his family, his plans after college, and so forth.

As Roger and everyone else gets to know Mickey better, they'll realize how silly their concerns are about him taking advantage of me. It's because of MIckey, as a matter of fact, they're already witnessing a much happier and improved me. No need for me to push the point with them; time will tell all.

When Roger runs out of questions, he and I talk about family matters, such as joking about us being the only family members not attending the Sunday cookouts. We don't put 'down' or insult those of our cousins who do attend faithfully, just agree we don't care to join them. Then Roger and I tell MIckey a few 'little-brother-big-brother' stories that make us all laugh. There aren't a lot of 'little-brother-big-brother' stories as Roger and my age difference got in the way of us doing very many things together, but there were some nonetheless, and it was fun sharing those times with Mickey. And, as I've said before, Roger was always very good to me growing up.

Anyway, we all order steaks for dinner, medium-rare steaks, probably because Roger ordered first, and for me, it was easiest to simply say, "I'll have the same." And the same thing for Mickey, I'm guessing. Roger ordered a bottle of wine with dinner, most of which he drank himself, although Dalia poured some in Mickey's and my glasses. I drank mine but Mickey only took a sip of his, and only when Roger 'toasted' Mickey and me. The topic of us being gay boyfriends wasn't actually mentioned. It was alluded to only when Roger introduced us to Dalia, referred to Mickey as my boyfriend.

During dessert, Roger gave Mickey and me his business card, saying, "Okay, I'm sorry to do this to you guys, but I'm gonna give a 'big-brother' speech now, so bear with me. I'm giving you both my business card with my business cell number on the front and I've written my private cell number on the back. Matt already knows it, of course, and now you have it too, Mickey. College can be tricky as there are many temptations for you now that you're living away from home for the first time." Roger is taking turns looking first at me, and then at Mickey... looking in our eyes. We're both bobbing our heads, paying attention, and maybe overdoing it 'cause I see Roger grinning, but trying not to.

He goes on, "Not to bore you with my college 'war' stories, but I got in some trouble at college and wished I had someone I could call, someone who wouldn't lecture me but who could help me. I didn't have anyone, but you two do... me. Call me about anything, at any time of the day or night if you need help or just some advice, or someone to just talk something out with. I won't be judgemental, I'll be there for you in whatever manner you need me to be. And that's all I'll say about it, except whatever the situation is, it'll be strictly between us."

Quite a speech and, as I said, Mick and I were nodding our heads all the way through it. When Roger finished, Mickey and I mumbled at the same time, "Thanks, Roger," and put the cards in our pockets. After that, it's just light chit chat as we're finishing dessert. Finally, Roger says, "It's been awesome having dinner with you guys. And, Mickey, a pleasure meeting you and I hope you guys will invite me to your apartment when you get settled in." He motions for the check, pays it, and then says, "Well, boys, I've got to hang around at the bar to meet someone, so..."

So, he wants Mickey and me to get lost. We get up, again thanking him for dinner and assuring Roger we'll invite him to the apartment. He walks us to the door where we do guy-hugs and then, just like that, Mickey and I are standing outside in the muggy heat of late August. He says, "Wow! That was pretty good, huh?" I nod and, as we're waiting for the valet to get our car we try deciding on what we should tip the guy. We settle on two bucks. Who knows what to do in these situations, ya know?

In the car's driver's seat, Mickey goes, "Whew, Mattie, that was a pretty damn good experience, but I was tense. Did it show? Did I seem tense to you?" Shaking my head, I go, "No, you were great and I thought my brother was too. I mean, he gave us the third-degree but in a very nice manner. Don't you think?" Mickey says, "Yeah, I do. Ya know, I was babbling a little bit answering his questions, probably in too much detail." I go, "Noo! You were perfect." He snickers nervously, saying, "Ya know, I didn't even realize he was grilling me, so to speak." I'm like, "I'm wicked glad he didn't ask how many times a day you fuck me," and we both get hysterical laughing.

Heh-heh and it already seems perfectly natural for me to get in the passenger seat. As Mickey drives us away, I say, "And, Bossy, wasn't that was a wicked tender, juicy, and delicious steak?" Mickey goes, "Yeah, it was! Fucking restaurants 'age' the beef somehow, and I think they get a better grade of beef than we can buy at the supermarket." I'm like, "I hope it's better. It cost $46, plus the mashed potatoes were $8. That's absurd!" Mickey says, "Jeez, I wonder how much the bill was?"

As we get close to my house, I say, "Um, Mickey, you need to drive to your house tonight. I'll drive myself to work tomorrow because you have your dance class." He's like, "Yeah, I know I have my dance class tomorrow, but so what? I'll get home from that by three o'clock and drive directly to UPS to get you." I nod, "Oh, um, really? Well, yeah, okay, good. I didn't realize it would work time-wise."

Mickey looks over at me, "I'm the driver now, baby, right?" I say, "Yep, you're 'the guy' and if you wanna drive, I'm good with that." He goes, "Yeah, it feels right that I'm our driver. But, um, well, it's your car, obviously, so whenever you wanna drive, just say so, ya know?" I'm like, "I consider this 'our' car now, Mickey." He snickers and says, "That's nice of you, but from my perspective, it's only 'our' car until the auto insurance bill comes in, then it's 'your' car, totally."

I think about that for a second, and then go, "That was a joke, wasn't it?" He gives me that 'Duh' 'look' and says, "Yes, obviously! We both pay car insurance. I'm on my dad's policy, as you were on your parents' policy. Um, that is, until you bought this car. Now you're insured, on record, under this car. That's how it works, but we're both insured for any car we drive... um, I think. I'll Google that to be sure." I mumble, "Yeah, I knew all that," although I didn't. But, holy shit, when I first met Mickey, him giving a speech of that length would have been unheard of.

The rest of the way to my house we're quiet. I'm a little pissed at myself because, of course, the insurance comment of Mickey's was a joke. Ya know, because he's half Jewish, he was making a joke about him being stereotyped as cheap. Dammit, I can't crack the 'code', the joke-code that everyone instantly understands, and yet I can't do it consistently.

Idling outside my house, MIckey turns to me and says, "I hope I thanked Roger enough. Do you think I did? I mean, that was really nice of him buying us dinner and giving us his card. He's looking out for you, obviously. I could tell that that was his main concern, and I like him for doing that, but he gave me his card too and I feel he'll be looking out for me as well."

Nodding, I go, "Oh, yeah, he's looking out for us both although I hope we don't need his help, ya know?" Mickey grins, saying, "Yeah, I hope neither of us does anything stupidly childish that gets us in trouble." I look at him, but before I can say anything Mickey puts up 'air-quotes' saying, "Joke alert," and I go, "No shit, but seriously, Roger liked you a lot, I could tell." Hmm, it's a good thing he gave me the 'joke alert' because I was about to get pissed! I am not anymore childish than your average nineteen-year-old. He's too, um, ah, 'unchildish' or something.

Mickey says, "Yeah, I got the feeling Roger liked me okay." I go, "It was wicked cool of Roger giving that really nice talk about if we ever need anything. He was sincere, and I'd be confident in trusting him with a problem." Mickey says, "Yeah, me too, but he can stop worrying about you, Burke, because I'm gonna take very good care of you myself." I chuckle, mumbling, "Somebody better haha."

We're quiet for a minute and then I mumble, "Um, that insurance joke, Mick. Ah, I'm sorry I didn't get your insurance joke right off the bat, or 'get' other jokes sometimes. I need to tell you something. It's about a, um, a handicap I have." He looks puzzled, "Handicap? Whaddaya mean?"

He just drove up to my house so we're in the idling car now with MIckey looking at me and, oh man, maybe I shouldn't tell him about the Aspergers thing. He sees I'm undecided and undoes his seatbelt to lean over the gearshift and put his arm across my shoulders, murmuring, "You can tell me anything, Burke." Hmm.

Well, I don't have a choice now and I tell him about me being diagnosed in my early teens as having Asperger's. Naturally, he asks, "What the hell is that?" I tell him as best I can and he says, "Holy shit, maybe I have that too." I shrug, "That's unlikely, Mickey. You've become too, um, socially 'normal' these past three months, while I've remained basically the same. I'm almost as socially-challenged as I've always been. Except, obviously, thanks to your help, I'm much better with you."

He has such a nice compassionate 'look' in his eyes as he says, "I can't imagine how you could be any better with me than you already are, Mattie. I think you're perfect." We kiss and then he asks me how to spell 'Aspergers', saying he wants to Google it. I ask, "Can we go someplace and make out?" He says, "No, not tonight, baby. I mean, I'd like to do that, but it'll be almost eleven o'clock by the time I get home and we both need to get up before six during the week, so..."

I nod, kiss him again, and say, "You're right. See you tomorrow morning... goodnight, MIckey, um, I love you..." I get out and he waits until I'm inside before driving away. The best thing about Mickey being the driver is I get to see him in the morning now. After doing what I need to in the bathroom, I get in bed and split the time before falling asleep thinking how wonderful Roger was tonight, and thinking how wonderful Mickey is.

Wednesday morning I'm outside my house waiting for Mickey to drive up, and here he comes smiling brightly. Getting in the car, I lean over to kiss him, doing that without even thinking about it, and, yeah, Mickey inferred I might be doing it too much, but I'm doing it anyhow. He says, "God! I love seeing you every morning, Burke. Your cheery face, so fucking cute, it brightens my outlook for the day." I mumble, "Thanks, but you know many cuter guys than me. Christ, Jello is twice as cute!" He goes, "Not to me, he isn't," and he drives us away. Yeah, well, heh-heh...

I have a boring day at work made worse because Bobby's out sick again, but then Mickey picks me up after work and I forget about my boring day. As soon as I get in the car, and not caring that my fellow early shift employees are leaving the building and walking past our car, I kiss Mickey 'hello' and then say, "I thought of a question I wanna ask you, Mickey."

He drives us out of the parking lot, mumbling, "What's the question?" I go, "It's this: how come we never saw one another Wednesday afternoons all summer? I mean, if you get home from your dance class at three o'clock, ya know?" He goes, "Oh, man! I can't sneak anything past you. Well, the truth is, I never get home at three o'clock on Wednesdays. Today I switched dance classes so I could drive you to work and back. My regular dance class starts at four, but today I asked to join the one o'clock class. Heh heh, I won't be doing that again. They're too advanced for me in that class, so it didn't work out very well at all. Embarrassing!"

I think about that and, as we go into my house, I'm like, "Well then, you sort of lied to me. It's a lie of omission when you inferred getting home at three o'clock was normal." He mutters, "Huh?" and then, instead of facing that issue, he excitedly says, "Oh, I just remembered something bizarrely interesting I've been wanting to tell you." I'm like, "Omigod, what is it?" He shakes his head, "Nothing bad. I was screwing around online the other day and read about a lake in Massachusetts on the Connecticut border that has the longest name of any place in America, and maybe the world."

Frowning at him, I ask, "What the fuck? Um, what are you talking about? And, what does that have to do with lying...?" He interrupts, "The lake's name has something like forty-five letters in it. It's Lake Chargoggagoggmanchauggagoggchaubunagungamaugg." I cover my mouth so I don't laugh in his face, but laugh anyway, then say, "That was the longest, most bizarre sound I can ever remember coming out of anyone's mouth, and you were spraying saliva around while trying to say that name that, by the way, I'm calling bullshit on. There's no such place and you could hurt yourself trying to say it again, so don't. Are you okay?"

Mickey goes, "I'm fine, ya nut, and I'm not bullshitting you! Obviously, I'm not sure that's how it's pronounced, but it's a real name with forty-five letters or something close to that. It's an Algonquian name, an Indian name meaning fishing lake or something like that." I go, "I'll take your word for it but I bet you can't spell it."

We get out of the car and, as we're going into my bedroom, I'm like, "Let's check that bullshit lake out on my laptop." On Google, Mickey only typed in the first five or six letters, C-H-A-R-G-O-G and a ridiculously long name appear up on the screen. Fuck, it's real! Mickey goes, "Dammit, I wanted to spell the whole word for you." I snicker and mutter, "Oh, sure..." Wikipedia has the information, and it's a real name for a real lake. Fascinating, but what was it we were talking about before Mickey mentioned that ridiculously long lake name?

He's still sitting at my desk with me standing next to him, my hand on his shoulder as I go, "That is weird. I wonder how the Indian's spelled it?" He says, "American Indians didn't have 'spelling' back then. Anyway, there are many astonishing things I've learned by surfing the Internet, but I must be careful how I dole this information out to you so as not to overwhelm you." Chuckling, I get my arms around his neck, leaning over to snuggle my face against his, saying, "Can we get in bed now?"

He smells so good, I kiss his cheek, murmuring, "Ummm, I love the way you smell." He grins, "Omigod, I didn't get to shower after dance class, so how the hell could I possibly smell good?" I kiss his cheek again and hold the kiss for ten seconds, then mumble, "I don't know, but you do. Now, will you please get in bed naked with me?"

He reaches up to squeeze my hand, murmuring, "Yes, if you'll let go of me, I'll get off this chair." I let go of him and take a step back gripping my crotch 'cause I've got a 'stiffy' in my jeans. Yeah, I wear jeans to work. Mickey stands, sees me holding my junk, and goes, "Don't tell me you got a boner from kissing my 'effing cheek." He pulls his shirt off as I mumble, "Yeah, well, you turn me on. What's wrong with that?" He's kicking off his sneakers and then pulling down his khakis, and then his underpants. Hopping on one foot he takes off a sock, then hops on the other foot to get the other sock. I'm watching him do that.

Naked, he stands there looking at me. I'm still fully dressed staring at his cock that always looks bigger than it is because it's between his skinny, but strong legs. I feel him staring at me so I look up. He smirks, moving his feet slightly apart. I grin and then snort out a laugh, and he laughs too, asking, "What's so funny?" I shrug, "I don't know. The way you looked at me, I guess." Holding up his penis, he goes, "Do you wanna suck on this for me, young Mattie?" I nod my head, still grinning, and he says, "Well, I'm sorry but you can only do it for a short while because I wanna put this in your bum hole, so get undressed and then get a condom."

He stands there naked watching me get undressed. I pull my shirt over my head, asking him, "Where's your tie?" He points to his khakis on the floor, saying, "In one of my pockets. I didn't put it back on after my dance class." I go, "Oh," and, for no reason, I laugh again. I don't know why, but I'm in a goofy mood today. I mumble, "It's that fucked up lake's name; it has me discombobulated." Mickey rolls his eyes as I take my sneakers off, then my socks and drop my jeans, asking, "Can I leave my underpants on. I'm shy," and we both laugh out loud. Mickey goes, "What in the fuck is it with you today?"

He does the honors and pulls my underpants down, mumbling, "I like looking at your little penis." I yell, "My penis is average size! Five inches is above average, actually." He goes, "That may be true, but the head of your penis has never seen the 'five' on a ruler," and I laugh so hard at that stupid comment it makes Mickey laugh too. He mutters, "Oh, well, this is the kind of behavior I guess I should expect from my young and childish pussy boy, but I love him so much I don't care."

Grabbing hold of Mickey and rubbing my hands up and down his back, I go, "I'm not childish!" The top of his head comes only to my eyes, but in my head, he's much taller than me. I think of Michael Miller as my big strong hero, my leader, who I'm now squeezing too hard, as I say, "I know I'm overdoing hugging you, Mickey, but I'm slightly attracted to you, um, attracted to you to a helpless degree, actually." He hugs me back, mumbling, "Oh, yeah? That must be disconcerting for you but, um, would you mind getting a condom now?"

Letting go of him, I mutter, "Yes, of course. I've totally got my shit back together now, Bossy. Now, where is it we store the condoms?" He mutters, "Obviously, you're still fucking with me, but soon I'll be doing the fucking, real fucking, and I won't hear a peep out of you, just moans." I go, "I can hardly wait," and he smacks my ass, saying, "And, you're an excellent moaner too." I hold up the condom, "I found them!" He goes, "Oh, goodie," and I drop to my knees and grab his penis, then slobber on it before sucking the head into my warm moist mouth.

My silliness evaporates 'cause, umm, I like me some Mickey penis! I suck on it as if it's delicious. Umm, I love doing this and would continue doing it, but as soon as he has a hard boner Mickey makes a low, "Oooh," sound and gently pushes my head away, murmuring, "That's good, babe. We'll skip the deep throating because I want to put this boner someplace else, okay?" I nod, glad he's not deep-throating me today. Standing up, still being a bit silly, I exaggerate smacking my lips as if his cock tastes good.

Mickey smirks at my lip-smacking, and says, "Okay silly boy, lean over the end of the bed." I look at the bed, and asks, "Right there, ya mean? Lean over this end of the bed?" He gives me a 'Duh!' look, and, still holding the condom, I bend over putting my hands on the bed. Mickey takes the condom packet from my hand, murmuring, "Maybe I actually do need to put you over my knee and spank you. What's up with your silliness today?"

I say, "It's like this. Do not, under any circumstances, tell me about any more long-named lakes. That got me in a goofy mood." I said that but I don't know why I'm feeling goofy today. It's like I'm goofy-happy, that's what it is. Mickey makes me goofy-happy.

Then I feel the slippery nipple of the condom pushing into my asshole, as Mickey goes, "Umm!" There's pain from my spreading asshole, and I mutter, "Ahh!" as he pushes his engorged penis steadily up my rectum, all the way in until his crotch is tight against my buttocks. Wow, I'm tasting the sweet pain that goes with having Mickey's hard cock inside me. The pain and pleasure make me shudder and moan, "Oooh, Mickey, your cock feels so good in my ass." As I'm saying that, the pain is fading and I almost wish it would hang around a while longer.

Mickey gasps and then grunts, which I think means his pecker is feeling mighty good too. After a long noisy exhale, Mickey's long hard cock begins sliding back out, almost all the way out of my rectum, then it slides steadily back in making my shoulders shudder at the sexy sensations coming off my prostate gland. Again the steady slide back out and then right back up my ass. A deep breath from Mickey and then he proceeds to fuck my ass hard and fast, slapping my buttocks with his hand every second or third thrust of his hips.

Omigod, getting spanks at the same time his big cock is fucking my ass is incredibly arousing and I climax in sixty-seconds! And, I'm amazed I lasted that long. I thought I was going to climax after the third thrust of his fantastic cock. My cum shoots across the bedspread shimmering, creamy and wet. It came zipping out of my hard dick so fast it burned my pee slit. The sensations were, well, thrilling doesn't do it justice. It was so sexily thrilling I couldn't catch my breath at first. That climax felt so good it's like I didn't know what happened for a second or two, and then this swelling of pleasurable sensations, indescribable ones, engulfed my whole being from my head to my toes. Holy shit that was hot! I shiver, my eyes blinking spastically... oh man!

My head hangs down as after-effects of that too-fast ginormous orgasm sizzle around my groin and ass, my prostate gland still vibrating like an electric toothbrush. I'm still enjoying that awesome orgasm when Mickey climaxes less than a minute later. Two really quick climaxes. He pulls his cock out of my ass, muttering, "Holy shit, Burke, you shot your load in record time today. Wow!"

As I straighten, I'm squeezing my dick, asking, "How come neither of us ever thinks to put an 'effing towel or something on the bedspread? We need to wash it again." Mickey snickers, "Another messy bedspread, huh? That's the kind of thing that falls under your responsibilities, baby. My responsibilities are to do all 'the guy' stuff, and I apparently did that rather well considering your small penis fired-off in ten seconds." I mutter, "Yeah, I'll say you did it pretty well, but it was more than ten seconds, and now my little penis is getting even smaller!"

After pulling the bedspread off the bed we use Kleenex to wipe fluids, some slippery, some simply wet, from ourselves, and then we get under the covers to cuddle. When I'm comfortably against Mickey, and he has his arm around me, I murmur, "I'm over my goofy phase, I think." Mickey murmurs, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I sort of like your silliness. It's fun. You're fun," and he squeezes me. That's nice.

After a few minutes of silence, I say seriously, "This is dumb of me, but I keep worrying that all this, everything we do together, will start to feel routine. Thank God, it doesn't yet, not even close, but I worry that it will and I'll hate that." He squeezes me again, "We'll keep our love-making fresh. That'll be my job, so don't worry about it. Leave it to me. I'll do all the worrying and you just worry about staying 'you', being you. You being you is the best thing you do, and you being you is better than my wildest dreams for a boyfriend." Hmm, okay then...

After a minute of silence, I go, "That was wicked nice of you to say, Mickey, but we say the corniest things to one another. We're like a soap opera or something, but, just so you know, I mean everything I say, corny or not. I just wish I could say it better." He goes, "We say it fine, babe. For Christ sakes, we're not motherfucking poets, ya know?" We both laugh because the addition of 'motherfucker' makes everything funnier. I say, "That's so true, Bossy, but maybe if we listened more closely to the words of motherfucking love songs, um, we'd pick up some pointers." Mickey sits up, pulling me up with him as he says, "Oh, Christ! I just remember another thing I wanted to show you. Something corny and sweet on a YouTube video; it's all about two friends. Two friends like us."

We get off the bed and Mickey says, "Put your underpants on," and we both do that before he sits on the desk chair, mumbling, "Get another chair, Burke." I get one from the spare bedroom, Roger's old bedroom, and set it next to Mickey's chair. Our underpants were put on because sitting on a cold chair seat with a bare ass isn't, um, too cool.

I ask, "What kind of video?" He goes, "Hold on a second," and he logs onto YouTube, and types in 'Four Evans'. Choices come up and Mickey goes, "This is definitely not rock or rap music; it's Broadway show music. Not only that, but it's also from a different more innocent time." I ask, "Whaddaya mean by an innocent time?" He shrugs, "I don't know. Back when the world was innocent, like the nineteen-fifties maybe." I go, "Oh."

Mickey clicks on a video, saying, "This song is from the Broadway show titled 'Dear Evan Hansen'. 'Evan' is the name of a socially-challenged high school student, like we were until we saved each other, um, but Evan is 'straight', not gay... supposedly anyway. The character is supposed to be a 'straight' nerd, but I don't believe the actors who have played him on Broadway are 'straight'. Four of the actors playing 'Evan' at different times are on this video singing a song from the show. The song is called "For Forever".

He hits the play button and we watch and listen to four guys in their early twenties sing the song, "For Forever' that's about 'two friends'. The singer/actors sing and appear to be, well, they seem gay as a May Day Maypole, intentionally or not. It's an innocently sweet performance, although really, really corny, although it wins my heart right away. MIckey looks at me nodding his head and I nod back. We listen to it eight times, side by side, singing along with it as we learn the words.

The thing is, there isn't anyone in this world, except Mickey, who I've ever known that I could watch this video with and be comfortable doing it. Most of the guys I grew up with, no, make that, ALL of the guys I know would mock this corny-sweet loving friendship video unmercifully. Not Mickey and me though, and now we want to see the show on Broadway, although we're not even sure it's still 'running' on Broadway. Mickey's going to check on that. I'm psyched from hearing and seeing the gay guys sing, and now I'm feeling more than ever that Mickey and I were made for each other.

Later, we make love without a condom. Mickey slowly moves his, what to me feels like an extremely long sex organ back and forth in my rectum, and this is a long, loving sex act in our favorite position face to face, me on my back with my legs pulled back. Our bodies connected together fucking while Mickey and I make out all the way through it, and it's quite something to experience. Orgasms gush out of our hard cocks as we both close our eyes and moan, "Ummm, oooh," our bodies taut and tight together.

Contented beyond belief, we do our normal cuddling, whispering to one another about a trip to New York City that we're gonna take some time to see Broadway shows. Mickey quietly says, "Maybe during spring break, Burke. We'll both be going to Drexel University having spring break together. Instead of going to some traditional spot in Florida as the regular guys and girls do, we'll go to New York City." Making plans and dreaming about doing things together is six thousand times better than doing it alone.

At five-thirty Mickey drives home for supper and then picks me up at seven. Yes, we're in a routine, I suppose. Well, I don't suppose it's a routine, it IS a routine, our routine, but it's a perfect one for us, so that makes it okay. I've changed my position regarding 'routines. Routinely kissing Micker 'hello' and 'goodbye' is a fine thing to do, and us being together after work and then again after dinner is another routine that's a perfectly fine thing to do as well. Why I ever thought routines were a bad thing, I can't imagine.

Thursday is another in a long series of good days for me, but then, all my days are good when it's Mickey and me. Then Friday Bobby Smart tells me the good news, but it doesn't sound like good news at first. He says, "I'll miss you, Mattie," and I'm like, "What? Where are you going?" He says, "Jesus, you don't know?" I'm like, "No, what happened?" He says, "My boyfriend has the okay to transfer from the Philadelphia UPS facility to this one. Ya know, um, I assumed you'd be going to the Philly UPS building." I go, "Seriously?" He looks puzzled, mumbling, "Um, or, since no one has told you you're moving, maybe all three of us will be working here."

That's not happening, and then my supervisor, Tully, finally get around to making it official that I can transfer to the Philly UPS office. I'm to report to Mrs. Blue at the Philly location on Monday, September third. I act professionally. I tell Tully how much I appreciate UPS accomodating my request and blab, blab, blab. Later, I feel kinda bad because I'll be screwing the Philly location by quicking work in a couple of months 'cause I'm going to 'effing college, dude! Yeah, but there's always a lot of turnover in UPS's package handling department, so they'll manage...

However that turns out, I can hardly believe that my metaphoric 'ball' continues falling on my number in the metaphoric 'roulette wheel' of life. Yeah, well, there was a lot of bad luck in my earlier life that had to be made up for, law-of-averages-wise, so I'm not apologizing for my good fortune this summer. Mickey's glad to hear I won't need to drive forty-five minutes to work and back. He said he had a guilty conscience about me needing to do that while he had to walk only two blocks to Drexel.

So, no problem. We have our normal great time together on Friday, and then Saturday we're at his dad's storage unit marking the furniture as to where it's gonna fit in our apartment. Sunday, Mickey and I spent $389.00 at a Target store buying things for the apartment that his dad said we could store at his house until next Saturday's move-in day. Driving home from the mall, the whole back seat is piled high with plastic bags containing sheets and towels and soaps and kitchen utensils and pots and pans, and I've already forgotten most of the other things we bought.

More good news. Roger called me yesterday volunteering to help us move-in. My dad and Mr. Miller offered to help us but now it'll just be us guys. That's better. Mickey's already reserved a big enough U-Haul truck to handle the move-in with only one trip, so everything is set. I'm tempting fate by saying this, but for once in my life, I can't think of anything that could fuck this up. We've thought of everything, and then there's the lucky streak Mickey and I have been on all summer, so we're confident we've got this move-in situation 'nailed down' tight. No problem!

Then, this last week of living at home passes in a pleasant blur. And, nope, nothing fucks us up. It just gets better because Roger brings a friend with him Saturday morning, a very nice guy who works with Roger at the pharmaceutical company. We tell our dads again that we've got this covered, then the four of us young guys get the apartment set up by three o'clock, we return the truck by four o'clock, and at five o'clock Roger and his friend, Randy, have bought two cases of beer and a fifth of Maker's Mark. Mickey and I order a couple of pizzas and we have a party to christen our apartment. Roger called our parents and they join us at six o'clock. Not to be outdone, Mickey calls his dad and he comes as well, along with his lady-friend, who is almost nice for once.

To be honest, the apartment seems smaller than I remembered, but there are eight grown people here, so there's that. It's the best party I've ever been a part of. Our parents couldn't be more complimentary about our place, and, even though most of the time Mickey had his arm around me possessive-like, nary a word was mentioned about Mickey and I being homos. Haha, I'll bet we have other parties here when it will be mentioned frequently, but that's okay too.

Everyone left by nine o'clock and then it was just Mickey and me. We had music playing while our families were here, but now Mickey turns the music off and says, "Sit with me on the sofa, Burke." I sit and he puts his arm across my shoulders, I lie my head on his shoulder and he murmurs, "Baby, today could not have gone better, but I'm friggin' exhausted." I mutter, "I'm a little drunk." He nods, "Yeah, that too, but everyone was so nice, it was great." I mumble, "I'll say, but, um, can we go to bed now?" He's like, "It's ten-minutes-after-nine."

We go to bed anyway and make love for the first time in our almost-new queen-size bed. New sheets and a hardly ever-used mattress. Yeah, this bed and mattress were in the 'spare' room of Mickey's old house and he told me they had very few overnight guests, so the mattress has been slept on like four times. And, now that we're in our own bed in our own apartment and have all night to do whatever we want, um, well, we only make love once and then fall asleep cuddling.

Sunday we wake up at eight o'clock, after nine hours of sleep. We're grinning at each other hardly believing this is for real. Our bodies separated during the night so Mickey does a slight head nod and I slide to him and get in Mickey's approved cuddling position. And, ya know, that simple act of me moving to him is a small thing, but with it came the reality that this is happening, Mickey really is 'the guy' and I really am the subordinate one in our relationship doing what Mickey wants.

No, that's not exactly it, that sounded too ominous. We love each other so he isn't going to 'want' me to do anything bad, and, even though Mickey is 'the guy' we'll still argue about this or that. Sure, he is the Alpha figure in our relationship, but that only gives him a slight advantage 'cause I've still got a 'say' about things too.

And, we're not just pretending or play-acting, this is the real thing; real life. Mickey is, in the end, the boss so that realization gave me goosebumps when I slide over to be next to him. I shivered and Mickey asked, "What was that babe?" Squeezing in tighter against him, I murmur, "Just me realizing happiness, thanks to you Michael." He says, "Thanks to both of us."

Later, he murmurs, "Here's a suggestion. How about if you get a condom and then suck my dick?" Rubbing his head, I mutter, "Uh-huh, Bossy, I can do that." As I'm getting the condom from the bedside table, Mickey pushes the covers down to his feet and spreads his legs a little. Oh, fuck, all of a sudden I can hardly catch my breath I'm so aroused. We're in our bedroom, on our bed, and last night we christened this bed, but this is our first morning-sex in the apartment.

I'm on my knees getting between Mickey's legs. We grin at one another as I'm picking up his longish penis. Bending forward, I lick and suck on his dick as MIckey's familiar scent fills my olfactory glands. My eyes go up to the top of their sockets to see him lying in our bed with his hands behind his head, the perfect image of 'the guy', 'my guy', and my cock gets as hard as steel now. It's a short blow job before Mickey murmurs, "Awesome, Burke. Roll the condom on, and then lie on your back."

I do that, trying not to whimper with desire. Maybe some will think I'm pathetically needy, but that's not how I see it. I feel I'm in the most perfect love affair, with the perfect lover, one who does all 'the guy' parts of our love affair perfectly. And, I'm not disappointed as we have another sexy sweet lover's fuck that goes on 'for forever', or at least ten minutes. Slow sex with kissing and quiet murmurs of love. Our climaxes happen together with both of us scrunching our faces as the pleasure sensations are immense. We're cuddling afterward for an hour or so before we do it again.

We don't get out of bed until noon and then take our first shower together making use of our new shower curtain and our new washcloths and bath gel and new everything. We put on shorts and t-shirts and then, both of us grinning constantly, we make a late breakfast together using new, um, everything.

Mickey is a good breakfast chef, as it turns out. I mostly do all the cleaning up chores after we eat really good scrambled eggs and toast that's toasted just right, and the crisp bacon is the way I like it too. Mickey explains that he's only half Jewish and so he eats pork products. I didn't even know that was an issue until he said that, so I'm like, "Oh, yeah, I see. Uh-huh."

We don't leave the apartment all day, mostly wandering around touching things and sitting on the armchair together, or the sofa as MIckey saying, "We'll watch TV like this, Burke," and he puts his arm across my shoulders and gets me almost lying against him. It's a good position to be in while watching TV, although we don't watch much TV. We don't have sex again today, and I didn't even think about it. It's like, now that Mickey and I are super relaxed, and we can have sex any time we want to, we don't need to do it as often. Whatever, today was another perfect day.

Monday, Mickey walks to Drexel University and I drive two miles to the Philly UPS facility. My new boss is a woman. She's very business-like and seems more competent that Tully, although not as nice. Yeah, no joking around as she's all business, which is okay with me. There are two other package handlers I'll be working with; an older black man who has very little to say, and he sweats a lot. The other fellow is a Hispanic kid who's my age. His name is George, Jesus Hernandez, and he is the friendliest human being I've ever been around. Nice looking too, and he shows me the 'ins' and 'outs' of this facility. The three of us eat lunch together and the black man, Ronald, is still quiet although not in a disturbing way. He's nice. I think he's shy. Anyway, I feel comfortable working here from day one, which is just one more lucky facet of my new 'lucky' life.

Mickey's and my days go by as awesomely as I prayed they would. Mickey is usually home when I get there after work, around three-thirty. My biggest challenge is finding a parking spot each day, one that's within three or four blocks of our apartment. Other than that, living here is better than I imagined it would be, and I imagined it would be fantastic, so...

Things roll along nicely as we settle in with Mickey doing most of the cooking while I do most of the cleaning up afterward. We shop for food together at a supermarket five blocks away, that we walk to. In the winter we might need to drive. After a month in our apartment, interestingly, I've noticed Mickey and I are having less sex than we had when living with our parents. I thought it was just the first day in the apartment, but it's been a fact since the first day until today. I'm not saying we have a lot less sex, but we're not fucking five times a night as we did a few times before moving in together. So, while that's true, our sex now is never rushed and, as I said, we know we can do it any time we want, so it's an entirely different feeling somehow.

That being said, we're always close together and usually touching when we're home, and then when we go out somewhere Mickey's holding my hand, or he has his arm across my shoulders, or around my waist. He's very possessive but that feels totally natural and wonderful to me by now. I like that he feels possessive of me although I'd imagine some others would see it differently. Heh heh, sure, some might say we're a bit sickeningly-sweet together, but, of course, Mickey would tell them, 'Please, feel free to go fuck yourself if you don't like it.'

Mickey's made only one friend at college so far, but he tells me he gets along with everyone okay. There isn't 'nerd-labeling' going on at college as it does in middle and high school. I haven't met Mickey's friend yet. The guy's name is Richard Tomlin, and he's 'openly' gay, although without a boyfriend. Mickey has a selfie of him and Richard eating lunch outside on Drexel's campus somewhere, and the campus looks nice. Richard look's nice too, although I wouldn't imagine anyone has ever called him cute, except possibly when he was a baby. In other words, I'm not worried about Richard stealing my Mickey from me, not based on Richard's 'looks' anyway.

Two months into our apartment lives, we still haven't had our parents or Roger back for a visit. Something new started happening with my gay cousin, Brian, though. He's been texting me frequently since I 'came out'. Now he texts nagging to visit with his boyfriend, Bengy. Both are two years younger than me so Brian keeps asking advice about his boyfriend as well as nagging to visit. It seems they're confused about whether they're in 'love' or not. Yeah, that sounds like a familiar concern. They're probably not in love, but I tell him if they think they are, go with that until they don't think they are. Brian thought that was startlingly wise advice.

Also, as I already knew, Brian has been cutting his friends' hair for years and he wants to give us, Mickey and me, haircuts. That's just one of the reasons he gives for why he feels we should invite him and Benny to visit. The real reason is, of course, that he thinks our apartment is a place those two can fuck.

Anyway, Mickey is not thrilled with the idea of Brian being our barber, but us going back to the Secane barbershop, which is at least a forty-five-minute drive from here, isn't practical. And, we didn't have a good experience with our first haircuts after moving here. Yeah, two weeks after we moved into the apartment Mickey insisted we needed haircuts and we tried a walk-in barbershop near the campus. Yeah, well, that didn't work out well for us at all. It was like visions of Sal's barbershop, which isn't a good thing. So, that opened the door for Mickey agreeing to give Brian an opportunity at being our barber.

That's the background for why Brian and Bengy will finally be visiting us tomorrow, Saturday, November third. He's going to give us free haircuts, and I suppose Benny is coming with him because he's Brian's assistant-barber or some such bullshit.

Brian and Bengy very much want to stay overnight too but Mickey doesn't want them to. I don't see why they couldn't stay overnight as the sofa is one that pulls out to be a double bed. Mickey grins at me saying he has his hands full taking care of one child, taking care of three is out of the question. When I go, "What the fuck, MIckey!" He says, "That was a joke, babe. C'mon, you had to know that was a joke!"

No, I didn't realize that, but I go, "Yeah, I knew it was one of your jokes, but why can't they stay overnight?" Mickey's reasoning is that they're underage and we're not, plus we're gay, and he doesn't want the responsibility of, um, whatever. We have zero sexual interest in the boys, none whatsoever, but who knows what they might do, or, more importantly, what someone might think we're doing with them? This is the world we live in, so...

I shrug, saying, "You're probably right. They'll be eighteen in a few months so maybe, if they're still together, they can stay overnight then, and fuck their brains out on the pull-out sofa, which is obviously why they wanna stay overnight in the first place." Mickey goes, "No shit."

Anyway, this afternoon, Friday before they'll be visiting Mickey and I shop for food, deciding we can't go wrong having steaks for the boys. That's what we had at that restaurant with Roger, and that was perfect. We argue about offering them beers. I'm like, "Come on, Mickey! Get real. Of course, we'll give them a couple of beers. Jesus, we're underage drinkers too, ya know." He can overdo the maturity 'thing' at times. That's right, I'm not the only one who can 'overdo' something occasionally.

Brian and Bengy show up Saturday morning at eleven o'clock while Mickey and I are still eating breakfast. They're three hours early saying they hope we don't mind. Brian, as I've said before, isn't cute but there isn't anything horrible about his 'looks' either, and then Bengy is a very cute kid, very cute although Mickey looks younger than both the younger boys. That's especially weird because Mickey acts wicked mature compared to Brian and Bengy who seem even younger than they are. They giggle a little too much, and, generally speaking, from the way they act anyone would assume the boys are gay. Mickey and I are the opposite. None of the guys thought we were gay until we 'came out' and started holding hands.

Mickey cooks eggs and bacon for the boys, and when we finish breakfast Mickey takes me and the boys on a walking tour of Drexel's campus. After that, we go on a Duck Boat tour. Mickey paid for the tickets with the boys taking that for granted, plus they mock the sightseeing. Yeah, well, they aren't as much fun as I thought they'd be, but they're okay. It's just that they're acting super-silly and a bit girlish. Mickey grins and rolls his eyes at me frequently, making me snicker although we don't say anything critical to either Brian or Bengy; we let them be what they wanna be.

After we all have a two-hot-dogs lunch from a street cart, compliments of me, and again the boys taking it for granted that we're paying for everything, we go back to the apartment and Brian gets his barbering stuff out. And, jeez, he has professional clippers and scissors, plus a barber cape. Brian's setting up his barbershop, as Bengy tells Mickey and me, "Brian's a better barber than any pro barber in Clifton Heights or Drexel Hill. Look at my haircut! Brian gave me and three of our buddies haircuts after school yesterday." Mickey nods, mumblings, "Yeah, I gotta say that is a very professional-looking haircut." And he's being serious too.

After we move the kitchen table against the wall, and Brian has the clippers, scissors, and various clipper guides set-up on a towel he laid out on the kitchen counter, he asks, "Who's first?" Mickey lifts his chin at me, so I say, "I'm first." I sit in a kitchen chair and as Brian puts the cape on me, he asks, "What kind of haircut do you want, cus?" I shrug, mumbling, "Um, I don't know exactly. The last haircut I got was a really sucky nondescript sort of, um, what would you call it, Mickey?" He shrugs, "I don't know. A fast 'nothing' haircut, I guess." I ask Brian, "Whaddaya you think would look good on me?"

Before Brian can make a suggestion, Mickey goes, "Ah, Brian, how good are you at doing the current 'fade' haircuts?" Bengy jumps in, saying, "Of course he can do fade haircuts, whaddya think, Jesus!" Brian giggles and says, "Benny's my PR person," and Bengy adds, "Okay, I do get defensive when anyone questions my boyfriend's barbering. Um, Brian, am I right though that you're not as perfect at 'fade' haircuts as when you're doing, um, cool regular haircuts? There are lines, occasionally, left between the different, um, shortnesses with fade haircuts." Brian says, "Yeah, Benny, but not so much lately. And, only with the really 'close' fade. Yeah, and how 'bout the 'fade' haircut I gave Andy yesterday? Remember? Ya know, when I needed to use bare clippers without a guide, that's a challenge."

Benny's nodding his head like a bobblehead doll, saying, "Yeah, we all liked that one, especially Andy. Just the one line was showing." Brian goes, "So, fuck, yeah, sure I'll do a fade haircut for you guys. You might not even notice the lines, um, if you don't look too wicked closely," and both boys giggle again. Jesus!

Mickey snorts out a laugh as he glances at me sitting here in the barber chair, and then Mick says, "No, that's all right. Just do a short, um, regular haircut for Mattie. Real short on top with no bangs." Brian looks at me as though he wants my okay, and I nod my head, mumbling, "What he said. That's what I want." Benny stays close by to watch Brian cut my hair while Mickey goes into the living room to read a textbook for a college assignment.

It's been about six weeks since our last, rather unsuccessful, haircuts at the campus barbershop, so my hair is kinda long in places. It's immediately obvious though, that Brian is not shy about cutting hair short. Quickly, there is quite a bit of my light brown hair in my lap and around the chair. Brian says, "The sides and back look good, Mattie. Um, if you have a mirror you can take a look at it." I shrug, mumbling, "No, that's okay," and Benny butts in, saying, "Brian, let me cut his hair on top. Mickey wants it cut really short and I'd like to do that; that'd be fun."

Brian's using the trimmer chippers outlining around my ears, mumbling, "Yeah, okay Benny, but remember I showed you the way to cut it evenly. Not like you did it for Skyler's haircut," and they both giggle. Benny's giggling run down and he mutters, "Oh, yeah, I did fuck up Skyler's haircut Wednesday, but I'll try doing it the way you showed me this time." Brian says, "Okay, and Mickey said no bangs in front so you'll want to cut the hair back to his hairline. I gotta take a piss."

He hands Benny the comb and scissor, as I go, "Wait a second, Brian, what the fuck, bro..." and Benny goes, "I'm learning how to do this. Don't fret, Mattie." Brian never even turned around when I called to him. He just walked off leaving Benny in charge.

Now, I'm feeling the hair at the side of my head thinking the clipper cutting Brian did on the sides and back doesn't feel nearly as short as the barbers cut it at the Secane Station Barbershop. This is about as far from a 'fade' as Benny could cut it even though I thought he cut off quite a bit. Well, as I said, I had a lot more hair to cut after six weeks without a haircut. So, I'm liking what Brian did, but now I've got Brian's 'apprentice' barber cutting my hair which is not what I'm looking for.

Benny combs up a batch of my hair, cutting through it with the scissors and a big clump of my hair drop in the cape. Christ, I don't want to hurt the kid's feelings, but... Hmm, I look over at Mickey, and he's no help. He isn't paying any attention to us. Dammit! Benny combs up another batch of hair and another big batch falls in the cape.

Then, he puts the scissors on the counter, muttering to himself, "Fuck these scissors," and picks up the clippers, telling me, "I'll put the burr attachment on the clippers, Mattie. That'll not only ensure it's wicked short on top, but totally even too." I sputter, "What? No, don't..." but Brian's back, saying, "What the fuck ya doing, Benny? Give me the clippers," and he takes over again. Benny sulks, leaning against the counter muttering something under his breath.

So, that disaster was avoided; then, when Brian's just about finished with my haircut, Mickey wanders over to see how it's going. He watches for a minute and then quietly says, "Holy shit, you are good, Brian! Wow, that's a helluva lot better haircut than we got at the college barbershop or Sal's barbershop." Brian says, "Thank you, but, Jesus, that's faint praise 'cause I can see what the campus haircuts looked like on you guys...not good, dude. And, please Sal's Barbershop; you're comparing my haircutting to those dick-heads? Fuck, they totally blow!"

Bengy laughs, apparently over his pouting, and says, "Fuck Sal's. Brian was a better barber than Sal the very first haircut he gave me, and my man, Brian, was only fourteen at the time. That's what first got us together, that haircut, right, Brian?" Brian smirks, saying, "Yeah, that and the fact you gave good 'head' after your haircut as I recall." Benny goes, "Heh heh, yeah I did. That's right. I forgot that."

Mickey's nodding his head, muttering, "Um, yeah, cute story. Ah, Brian, this is a damn nice job of haircutting, and it's exactly how I hope you'll cut my hair, except I like mine much longer on top and with bangs." Brian goes, "Yeah, I can do that no problem, and thanks for the compliment." Mickey says, "The thing is though, um, for Mattie, um, he and I like his haircut to be shorter than this," quickly adding, "And it's my fault for not describing it properly. Jeez, would you get pissed off if I asked you to do his haircut all over again except shorter?" Benny goes, "See, Brian! I had the burr attachment and I was gonna..." Brian says, "Fuck you, Benny, and please shut up." To Mickey, he's like, "Of course I can do that. You want it a lot closer on the sides and back, right? I'm happy to accommodate that, I have fun cutting hair." Hmm, that's weird.

Nodding his head, Mickey points at my head, and says, "Thanks, Brian. And, seriously, no shit, that haircut right there that you've cut for Burke is exactly how I'd like you to cut mine, except, as I said leave my bangs long, and a lot longer on top." Brain says, "Doing Mattie's haircut all over again, I'll need to charge you twice as much, but no problem." Mickey chuckles, "Two times nothing, huh?" Brian goes, "Yeah, it's only fair." Mickey grins and pats Brian's shoulder muttering, "You're okay, Brian." Brian sort of beams.

Starting to walk back to the living room, Mickey stops and says, "You agree with me, right, Mattie?" I go, "There's no mirror but, yeah, I trust your judgment." Mickey shrugs and says to Brian, as if he needs to explain himself, "It's just I think he looks um, well, he looks cuter and sexier with very short hair." Brian combs through my hair on top of my head, and mutters, "And, ya know what, Mickey? I agree with you. The thing is, I'd rather err on the side of leaving a guy's hair too long because I can always do it shorter. No way to make it longer though after..." and Mickey interrupts, "Yeah, yeah, we get the concept. Fine, thanks..." and he goes back to reading his textbook. "

Brian isn't offended, and, while he does not use the burr attachment as Benny was about to, he cuts it almost as short as the clippers would have with him using comb and scissors. It's obvious Brian loves cutting hair and as I said, that's kinda weird but to each their own. He does a complete haircut all over again using clippers and scissors and when he's done with my haircut, he doesn't waste time ask me how I like it, he calls to MIckey in the living room, "Ya wanna that a look, Mickey. See if this is okay." After a quick look, MIckey says, "Goddamn, Brian, that's perfect. You rock, dude! You've got some serious talent, bro." and they bump fists as Brian beams anew.

Benny makes a face rolling his eyes, muttering, "It's exactly how I was gonna do it." As Brian is taking the takes the cape off me, he says, "Shut up, Benny-boy." Getting off the chair, I'm feeling the bristly hair on top of my head, mumbling to Brian, "Thank, cousin." Then I go into the living room to look in the mirror over the sofa. Huh, shrugging, I mumble, "Nice job, Brian." Mickey's sitting in the chair as Bengy asks me, "Would you come outside with me to have a cigarette, Mattie?"

I'm still feeling my wicked short hair as we walk outside. Yeah, we're smoking now. Mickey and I have been practicing smoking Marlboro cigarettes because he thinks in college we should be smokers. I think so too, but, ya know, only on and off; not a pack a day or anything like that. Anyway, I'm not in the habit yet of carrying a pack of cigarettes with me, so I bum a smoke from Bengy and we sit on the front stoop lighting up. Then, for the next five minutes, Bengy tells me how it was embarrassing being told to shut up by Brian, but then he talks nonstop about how cool Brian is.

I go, "I've always liked Brian best out of all my cousins." He goes, "Hey, you and me, Mattie, have something in common." I go, "What's that?" He shrugs, "Isn't it obvious? Haven't you noticed we're in the same position, boyfriend-wise?" I'm like, "Huh? Whaddaya mean?" He grins at me, asking, "Seriously, you don't see that both our boyfriends are dominant and we're submissive to them. And I'm not complaining, I like it that way, don't you?"

I exhale smoke, saying, "Nah, we don't call it being dominant and submissive, although I know from reading stuff online there are guys who are into that sort of relationship. Mickey and I are in a much less formal relationship. We're lovers and, oh sure, Mickey is the Alpha lover, in a way, and I'm the other lover, but he's not super dominant or anything like that."

Bengy goes, "Well, you can phrase it any way you want, Mattie, but we're submissive to our boyfriends." I smile, saying, "I don't want to argue with you, Benny. We'll agree to disagree, okay?" He goes, "You're kind of a 'pussy', ain't ya?" I go, "Noo! I'm not a pussy any more than you are." He hits my arm, saying, "I was joking with you." Nodding, I mutter, "I knew that."

We smoke, watching people walking by who pay no attention to us two. He hits my arm again, and says, "Well, you'll agree with this I think. You and me are the 'girls' during sex, right? Compared to a heterosexual couple who fuck, we're the girls." I go, "Um, I, ah, yeah, I guess that's close enough. Actually, I've thought of it that way myself." He giggles and asks, "Does your pussy get sore?" I force a laugh and mutter, "Sometimes, yeah." Well, he's only seventeen, but this conversation is, um, unnecessary.

I go, "So, you like to give haircuts too, huh?" He tells me he's been learning from Brian how to cut hair and then tries talking me into letting him do my haircut next time. I'm vague about agreeing to that. He has dark brown hair that he gets cut similar to Mickey's hairdo. As I've said, Benny's a cute fucker and I think he'd be cuter with a haircut like mine. I tell him that, including the 'cute' part, and he says, "You might be right except Brian cuts my hair the way he likes it. He's never asked me how I want it." I go, "Oh."

We light two more cigarettes and he says, "It's cool being the girl during sex. I act it up by talking real faggy, real girlie-like, ya know? Brian likes that. Once he put lipstick and makeup and all that kinda shit on my face and we fucked for an hour. You should try something like that." I give him a 'look' but don't say anything. Then he rubs a finger near my lips, mumbling, "There's something stuck to, um, I got it." I'm pulling my head back, as he says, "Brian's so dominant he never lets me 'top', I'll bet Mickey doesn't let you 'top' either. Am I right, Mattie?"

Hmm, I'm not sure it's proper to discuss Mickey's and my sex life. On the other hand, I'm not sure if that's a, um, a phony attitude for me to take. I'd sound like a pompous ass saying that, so I shrug, and say, "No, I mean, I don't get to 'top' but that's only because Mickey has something wrong with his rectum. Otherwise, we'd take turns." Bengy laughs out loud at that, slapping his knee, saying, "That's a good one, Mattie." Defensively, I go, "What the fuck you laughing at? It's true." He quiets down, mumbling, "Oh, yeah, I'm so sure, but, um, no offense intended. I thought you were, ya know, making a sarcastic joke."

He feels the hair at the front of my head, mumbling, "I like that no-bangs 'look'." I go, Me too," and then he asks, "How often does Mickey make you 'rim' his asshole?" I give him another 'look', a puzzled expression, muttering, "Make me what? He doesn't make me do anyth..." but Bengy interrupts, saying, "Oh, yeah, really? Are you serious, girl? Fuck, I'm not allowed to suck Brian's dick suck until I rim him first. And I mean, I gotta get my tongue way up there, ya know?" What the fuck... he's proud of that? How odd, except maybe he's pulling my chain...

I'm frowning, staring at him, not sure if he's joking again. I finally ask, "Was that a joke? I don't always 'get' jokes." He goes, "Whaddaya mean, was that a joke? No, it's not a fuckin' joke!" I go, "Um, let's go inside and see how the guys are doing," and I start to stand, but Bengy grabs my arm, saying, "Finish your cigarettes, dude. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Jeez, I never expected Bengy would be this, um, bossy and brazen, but then that's because I could never imagine me being that way. I sit back down on the step and he pats my leg, grinning at me, saying, "My main reason for getting you and me out here alone is to tell you something. I'm not sure if your 'pussy act' is real or part of some kind of game-playing between you and Mickey, but whatever, here's the thing... you and I could take turns 'topping' each other. Would you like to do that with me? We're almost relatives anyhow." I go, "Um, why do you think we're almost relatives? And us 'topping' each other isn't something our guys would like, at all!"

He snickers and pats my leg again, saying, "No shit, Sherlock. Are you for real? Obviously, they wouldn't like it. Jesus, I meant sometimes when they wouldn't know about it." I say, "Yeah, well, hmm, I don't know." He grins cutely, mumbling, "Don't give me that shit; you know damn well you want to do it. Get a chance to 'top', you'd jump at it."

Shrugging, I mutter, "I meant, yeah, maybe we could do that sometime in the future." He says, "It'd have to be in the future, Mattie, 'cause we sure as shit couldn't do it in the past... haha," and he squeezes my thigh near my nuts. Who's nineteen and who's seventeen here? Some guys just grow up faster than others, apparently. Um, but I'm still not sure... is he just breaking my balls with this shit? Making fun of me?

This attitude of Benny is wicked unexpected. Without thinking I'm going to, I move away from him a tiny bit and mutter, "You knew what I meant, Benny." He nods his head, staring at me and then, grinning again, "Yeah, of course, I did, Mattie." Fuck, he is cute though! Staring at me, he takes a deep breath, then sucks a drag off his cigarette and talks as he's exhaling smoke, saying, "'Okay, here's the deal. I'd do you first, obviously. I'll be the 'top' because, between you and me, I'm obviously gonna need to be the dominant guy, haha. No shit, huh?"

Frowning again, because I think he's 'effing serious, I mumble, "Whatever, yeah, but um, yeah, I guess you would be." Fuck this, I'm not doing anything with him. He's way too experienced, way too 'out there' for me. Hell, he's too experienced for Mickey, which makes me wonder about Brian since he's the 'top' for him and Benny. Holy shit!

It's hard to believe, but I'm kinda intimidated by this younger kid so I wait until he stands, then I get up too and follow him inside. Oh, wow, I see Mickey's haircut is finished, and it looks very nice. Yeah, it does, but it's like a million other guys' haircuts; kinda boring compared to the Secane haircuts we were getting. Brian is a very good barber though. None of our haircuts look anything like 'home' haircuts. They look like salon haircuts that cost forty bucks, that's how talented Brian is. I kinda like my haircut better than MIck's because mine is more distinctive-looking somehow.

With the haircuts out of the way, Brian and MIckey go outside to smoke while Bengy and me, mostly me, sweep up the hair and wipe the countertop, getting the random hair clippings cleaned off. As Bengy is dumping a dustpan of hair in the trash, he mutters, "See what I was talking about, Mattie." I mutter, "Yeah, I know what you mean, we're cleaning up as the, um, the subordinate 'others', whatever you called us. So what? I mean, Brian did the barbering so I don't mind cleaning up. Do you?" He goes, "No, not really. You're right, but, um, I didn't need to help you, you know." I mumble, "I know, and thank's for helping." He says, "Yeah, okay, you're welcome, but I definitely will be the 'top' when it's you and me. Ya know, when we get the chance, right?" I mutter, "Sure, okay." I think he is serious about all the shit he says, so, no thank you. I'm not going to say that though; why hurt his feelings?

A little later, we all start drinking beer while complaining that no one thought to score some pot. Benny is less obnoxious when he's with Brian, and we're all having a good time, I guess. I don't say much. Then, dinner is great 'cause Mickey is a good chef, but all in all, I'm disappointed with the boys' visit. I've discovered that Brian is mostly nice only when taken in small doses. In larger doses, he's kinda arrogant and bossy with me and, I don't know, pushy in general too. Mickey isn't like that at all, although he seemed okay with Brian being that way with me, which I didn't like. And, okay, Mick is slightly bossy too. I think Mickey's 'okay' with Brian more than I am if that makes any sense.

And then there's Bengy who, well, I don't know what the fuck to make of him except he's a cute motherfucker and I like looking at him. On the other hand, he's an aggressive kid, especially for his age. Jesus, that's an understatement, but as crazy as it sounds, it's kinda enticing to think about him fucking me, heh heh. And, no, I'm not gonna do that, I'm just saying if I did do it with him.

Anyway, the boys leave at eleven o'clock, but only after again nagging to stay overnight. Mickey is firn that it wouldn't be a good idea, but perhaps next time. As far as I'm concerned, there wouldn't be a 'next time' except Mickey, after his fourth beer, told Brian that he could do our next haircuts and maybe be our personal barber. Then, he added with a chuckle, "You're talented, Brian, and you don't overcharge." Well, we didn't pay for our haircuts, obviously, but how much did we pay for their steak dinners and beers Mickey got an older college guy to buy for us? Yeah, well, I know what he meant though.

We have no other company from home until four weeks later when Mickey invites our barber and his boyfriend back. I didn't even know he texted Brian. It's a repeat of their first visit except Brian seems less of an asshole this time, while Bengy is more of one. Maybe that's just how I perceive their visit though, as Mickey seems fine with both boys.

I don't know, I guess Bengy's comfortable being more aggressive with me now that this is our second time spending eight or nine hours together. Neither Mickey nor Brian are present when Bengy does most of his 'dominant' act on me. And, yeah, he's very much still on that 'kick' of him and me sneaking away some time to 'top' each other. It's obvious to me though that what he actually means is him 'topping' me. He isn't bothering to mention anything about me getting a chance to experience 'topping' him. And, he has a legitimate plan for doing this secret fucking of ours during the upcoming Christmas holidays. He told me what his plan was, adding, "Listen to me, Mattie, our Alpha lovers won't have a clue that we fuck together if you do exactly what I'm telling you to do." I shrug, "Um, I don't know, Benny. Um, over the Christmas break, huh?"

The second visit was like the first as far as me getting my haircut first. The difference was Brian let Benny start my haircut while Mickie was showing Brian some videos about Drexel University. He's talking Brian into applying there as Brian graduates this year. Benny isn't going to college, or so he says.

Anyway, when Benny puts the cape around me, he's like, "C'mon, Mattie, sit up straight, dude. Don't slouch." Brian assured me that he's been letting Benny do some haircutting and he's 'coming along' okay, and Benny actually does okay too. Between the two of them, they cut my hair pretty much as Brian did the first time. Then, while Mickey's getting his haircut Bengy takes my arm, saying, "Let's go, c'mon outside with me, Mattie, we'll have a cigarette on the front stoop like last time." Yeah, why not.

On the front stoop, we're lighting our cigarettes as Bengy asks, "How do you like the haircut I just did for you? Short enough for ya?" I nod, "It's excellent, Benny. Nice job, thanks." He musses my hair as much as you can muss hair as short as mine, and says, "Fuck, you'd be a perfect pussy boyfriend for me. If you break up with..." I interrupt, "We're not breaking up."

He squeezes my nose, mumbling, "No? We'll see." I push his hand away and he goes, "Hey, does Mickey have you rimming his ass yet?" He laughs after asking that because I'm exasperated, blowing out my cheeks while exhaling smoke, muttering, "Nooo! I told you before he won't make me do that." Bengy shrugs as he's exhaling a long stream of smoke, not saying anything more about that.

The thing is, I'm wicked curious, so I ask, "Um, don't you taste shit when you do that?" He takes another big drag and exhales through his nose and mouth at the same time, and then goes, "Well, no shit, of course, I taste shit. It has an extremely acrid taste to it too, which you'll find out for yourself sooner or later," and he giggles. Then he says, "It's only shit-tasting at the beginning though, and then the shit taste fades until you get your tongue up his ass an inch or so and you'll taste it again." I make a 'face', muttering, "Ew," then, I go, "And I'm calling bullshit AGAIN on that 'inch or so' up his ass exaggeration."

Chuckling, Bengy mumbles, "You don't know shit, Mattie." I go, "I guess not," and he says, "Hey, I'll help you out, buddy. What you do is curl your tongue," and he shows me how he curls his, adding, "See, it makes my tongue narrower and firmer. First, of course, you loosen up your dominant man's asshole by licking it and sucking on it. Then, get your curled tongue up his ass at least an inch." I make a 'face' at him and he says, "And, Brian and I Googled 'human tongues' and I've got a thinner tongue than most guys so my tongue-curl is tighter." Rolling my eyes, I again mutter, "Ew." He snickers and then asks, "Who was your boyfriend before Mickey?" I go, "Huh? Oh, no one. I've only had sex with Mickey. And he's only had sex with me."

Looking at me as if I'm from outer space, he goes, "You've gotta be shitting me. You guys graduated high school with neither of you ever having sex?" Defensive now, I go, "Did I stutter? That's what I just said. What about it?" He holds a hand up, mumbling, "Sorry. Ya don't need to jump down my throat, dude. It's odd, that's all. Jesus, I had my first real sex at thirteen. Lots of guys do."

I shrug again and we smoke for a minute and then he says, "That explains a lot, though. Your dominant sex partner is just as inexperienced as you. Nevermind though, he'll have you rimming his ass in a few months. Count on it 'cause that's what the dominant guy do, period." I let out another exasperated breath, saying, "No, he won't. Mickey wouldn't want me doing that because he knows I have a germ phobia." Benny laughs out loud and then goes, "Omigod, Mickey has a rectum malfunction and you have a germ thingie; that's convenient." I say, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Bengy smirks as he flicks his cigarette butt into the street. Then he smirks at me again, showing a cute grin. I grin at him and he cups behind my head with his hand, then pulls my head to his and, right here on the front stoop with people walking by, kisses me on the lips. Omigod, his tongue is in my mouth sliding on my tongue and all along the front of my teeth. Yeah, he does have a great tongue, I'll give him that.

And, sure, of course, I could have pulled away if I wanted to, but, um, he's cute and I get helpless around cute aggressive guys. My arms are at my sides as his hand goes between my leg squeezing my privates while still kissing me. He squeezes my balls hard and I grunt into his mouth and he lets up a little on my balls, sucks on my tongue, and then squeezes my nuts hard again and I grunt into his mouth again. Five or six times he does that and, Christ, I get the hardest boner of my life before he's done. He takes his mouth off mine and pinches my nose again, saying, "Yep, you are one cute, clueless motherfucker alright." I do a quiet moan as he gives me his tenth smirking grin in the last ten minutes.

I'm staring into his big blue eyes and then noticing his big dimples, one on each cheek when he's smiling, which he's doing now. I gulp and take a deep breath and he whispers, "Oh, yeah, we're gonna have some good secret sex together. I'll tell you right now that I'm gonna be wicked dominant with you, so expect that, okay? It'll be a welcome change for me and I'll bet before I'm done you'll rim my ass when I tell you to."

He has little freckles across the bridge of his small nose and peach fuzz on his top lip. I don't want to try saying anything right now for fear I'll gulp or stutter. He looks serious, still holding my nuts in his fist, as he slowly runs his fingers back over the short hair on the top of my head, muttering, "Super-short haircut, huh?" Then, one more tight squeeze on my nuts before he finally takes his hand away from my crotch so I can sit up straight again, gasping a little.

Then, lighting another cigarette, he says, in a normal conversational voice, as if nothing unusual just happened, "Don't worry, I'll fuck you really well, but we can't get caught. If you ever say anything to Brian about it I'll kick your ass up and down this street. I love him and he's an awesome dominant sex partner, so I don't want you fucking me up with him."

I'm hypnotized by this kid and I still don't dare to try to talk yet. Well, hell, I can't think of what to say to all that anyway. He runs his fingers over my hair again, smiling his dimpled smile at me, saying, "Don't look so frightened. I won't hurt you... much," and he laughs but stops abruptly to add, "I'll take care of you. Hey, speaking of me kicking your ass, do you get spanked a lot? Oh man, Brian spanks me on my bare ass and I spring the hardest boners you've probably ever seen, dude."

As if getting spanked is something to brag about. Finally, I feel it's safe to speak, "Um, don't squeeze my nuts again, Benny, okay?" He exhales smoke in my face and mutters, "I will if I feel like it." I go, "And, yeah, Mickey spanks my ass occasionally. Um, like twice maybe, or I guess it was just once, um, while joking around. He even said he's gonna put me over his knee." Bengy goes, "Oh, yeah? Did he ever do it?" I shrug, "Not yet, no."

He shrugs and makes a face, saying, "Don't fret, I'll give you a hard spanking, then you'll rim my ass, then you'll suck my cock, and only then will I fuck you really good. I'm telling you, we're gonna have some fun Mattie-boy, but keep your trap shut about it," and he squeezes my lips together, grinning at me again, a big dimple in each cheek. My lips feel funny.

Flicking his cigarette butt into the street, Benny asks, as if it's the most normal question ever, "How big is Mickey's dick?" I make a 'face' muttering, "What? Jesus, Benny." He goes, "Oh, it's small, huh? Brian's dick is seven and a quarter inches long. We've measured it like ten times." I make another 'face' and he goes, "Oh, I see the problem. Because Brian's related to you, you're wondering why you don't have a dick that big, right? It doesn't work that way, bro. How small is your dick?" Shaking my head, I mumble, "This talk is, um, childish. Isn't there anything that's private with you?"

Lighting another cigarette and then exhaling a big drag from his Marlboro, he says, "Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. Hey, don't feel bad. I've seen guys with two-inch cocks. It's rare, cocks as small as yours are rare, but they're out there so it's not only you, Mattie. Mine is almost six inches, but it looks small next to Brian's." I stand up, muttering, "I'm going inside." He flicks his just-lit cigarette in the street and stands up too. He takes hold of my arm, saying, "Mattie, remember what I told you. Mum is the word about our plans, right?" His plans, not ours! I say, "Trust me. I'm not saying a word about anything we talked about." I should have said, 'Anything 'YOU' talked about'.

Going inside and then up a flight of stairs, I'm thinking how Benny's the pushiest bastard I've ever met, but, to be honest, that was a helluva sexy kiss he laid on me. A fifteen-second kiss with him squeezing my junk and it got me boning-up big time. I look back at him as we're going upstairs and he smiles. Those fucking dimples! Plus, the mischievous look in his eyes. He's a cute fucker, but he's much too experienced for me. And, HE'S the one who is pretty much clueless, not me.

So, I gotta avoid Benny, but it's nice that he wants to have sex with me. It's also interesting that with Brian he's subordinate like I am with Mickey but, hidden inside Benny is a dominant demon. He's interesting, but it would end up that he'd be my fourth 'top'. I'd never get to be the 'top' with Bengy. I just know that. He'd be so good at 'topping' me, plus he'd talk me around in circles and I'd end up wanting him to do it again, and that's not what I'm looking for. Actually, I'm not 'looking for' anything. Mickey is all I need. Plus, if I did anything with Benny I'd end up rimming his ass, I just know it! He's way too advanced for the likes of little old me.

The haircuts are finished so we have some beers and a shot of Maker's Mark leftover from way back when Roger brought it to the 'christening-the-apartment party'. Brian scored two joints from someone and we passed those babies around as we're drinking, getting the giggles; Mickey and I acting like the boys act even when they aren't high on pot.

Coming down off a small high, Mickey cooks dinner, giving me things to help with, like making the salad, setting the table, and heating the rolls. We have steaks again because the boys liked having steaks so much the first time. The boys do not stay overnight tonight either. That's because Mickey won't allow it. When we get out next haircuts though, they'll be eighteen and Mickey says they can spend the night. I'll need to be on my toes, so to speak, the night they stay over considering how dangerous Benny is. I've discovered he's more than capable of doing the unexpected.

When I turn in my two-week notice that I'm quitting UPS they don't seem to especially care. They handle it routinely because they're used to package handlers bailing on them. Then, most of December Mickey is on college break and I'm unemployed and nervously looking toward college beginning the second week of January.

The holidays were great, both the Jewish ones and Christmas. I almost manage to completely avoid Bengy 'cause he scares me. The one time he did 'get me' was at a party at the MIllers house when I found myself in the basement with only Benny. Mickey and Brian unexpectedly went upstairs for some reason and Benny crooked his finger at me, like 'c' mere'.

We were all a little 'high' and a little drunk including the two guys from college invited to the party by Mickey. Anyway, I was like, "What, Benny?" as I stepped over to him and he did the cupping behind my head, pulling my face to his, the same way he did on the stoop that time. His other hand grabbed my balls and as we made-out, he did the squeezing my nuts and letting up, then squeezing my nuts and letting up while his tongue did magical things in my mouth. I'm not gonna lie... it was sexier than anything, and he did it until I 'came' in my pants.

When he felt my wet cum on his fingers he let go of me, smirked, and reminded me of his plan to fuck me. I just nodded my head, speechless again. He smirked and told me, "Um, for now though, Mattie-boy, ya better spill your beer, accidentally on purpose, on your lap to hide your orgasm that's seeped through your pants." I'm royally pissed, more at myself than at him.

Upstairs, I bumped into Rex on purpose, spilling my beer down the front of me. Rex is Mickey's gay friend from college. Anyway, Mickey took me upstairs and I changed into a pair of his underpants while he used a hairdryer to dry the wetness on my khakis 'cause his pants don't fit me.

I tried to look at the comical side of things. And, haha, yeah, as I said, Benny would definitely be the Alpha guy between us two. I mean, if we ever had sex, which we're not going to... just saying. He'd been texting me, I guess getting my number from my cousin, Brian, to reinforce to me his 'plan'. He wanting me to meet him at the reservoir Christmas eve when everyone was busy. He had a good plan too because it would have worked. Brian was with his family, Mickey was with his dad and older brother, plus I could easily have gotten out as Roger and his girlfriend had left, plus my parents were next door having a drink with the neighbors. I punked out on Benny though by lying that I'm with my family who unexpectantly came home early. I promised to meet him another time, but I didn't.

And now we'll be getting haircuts again next week, before starting college, and the boys will be staying overnight so I'm wondering what Benny might do. He's probably pissed off at me for screwing-out on his plans Christmas, but tough shit... I'm not gonna do it with him. If I wasn't in love with Mickey though, I think I might be happy having Benny play the dominant lover-part, at least for a little while, like for a few months. I could get into that with him, ya know, get into the role of being the submissive guy he talks about me being, um, submissive to him. And, yeah, I'd probably be rimming his ass regularly as well, haha. We're the same size too, Benny and me, so the cuddling would be easy to get into. What am I saying? He isn't the cuddling type, and I'm NOT doing anything with him anyway. Jesus!

Mickey and I spent almost all the holiday season in our apartment, except for those couple of days visiting our families. We didn't go away to a warm climate like many of the college students do. Instead, we're waiting for spring break to do something cool. Money-wise we couldn't afford to go away twice. So, yeah, with trepidation, I finally go to my first college class, and it wasn't too bad.

Yeah, I've started my college education and Mickey was right that college isn't anything like high school. I only have three courses this semester and two of then are with Mickey. It turns out to be a breeze, um, except for Mickey acting-out his mature role of overseeing the homework portion of my college studies. He could try being a little less mature. I mean, we're college students, for fuck sake!

I'm cool with college though, I like it. We made some friends. Two straight friends and one of them, Tom Brooks, is wicked attractive. So, yeah, Tom plus the other 'straight' friend, whose name is Mutt Mananski, and then there's Mickey's gay friend, Rex Belhammer. The five of us hang out a lot. The straight guys like to refer to Mickey, Rex, and me in uncomplimentary ways 'cause we're gay, but they do it in a friendly ballbusting manner. We all smoke, both cigarettes, and pot, and drink lots of beer. A couple of times a week we do those unhealthy things at our apartment, but we do them in their dorm rooms too. Our three amigos are all living in dorms.

Tom Brooks is straight, as I said, but he's extremely friendly with me, and when it's just him and me, he jokes about letting me blow him. He's also very touchy with me, not that I mind, but he is supposed to be straight. Another thing, after the Christmas holidays, we were all at a New Years' Eve party at a frat house and at midnight, after Mickey and I kissed, Tom kissed me and it wasn't a brotherly kiss, let me tell you. He knows how to do sexy kissing! So, what am I to think? On the other hand, our gay friend, Rex Tomlin, has no apparent sexual interest in me at all, although we've become good friends. Just a couple of the strange happenings of life that I'm getting used to.

We were at another frat party in February. Oh man, it was crowded with like sixty guys and girls dancing to club music, bumping into one another everybody 'high' or drunk or both. Around one o'clock in the morning, on the crowded dance floor, I stumbled into this big asshole of a guy and he spilled his cup of beer on a girl who I think was his girlfriend. Anyway, he shoves me, and my feet get tangled up so I hit the floor spilling my 'effing beer. Then, holy shit, Mickey goes crazy and jumps on the big ape knocking the guy down. Fists start flying, Tom and Mutt jump into the fight so I got up and immediately got punched on the side my forehead, but I swung a wild uppercut and punched a four-eyed goon right on the point of his chin. I heard his teeth click together, or thought I heard it anyhow. I probably didn't though because the music was blaring, and everyone was yelling. It was a mess.

The music stopped and frat brothers broke up the fight, eventually. So, yeah, we had a fight between guys we didn't even know, and for no good reason. Someone punched Mickey in the nose and it, his nose, was crooked. Mutt is in the National Guard as a medic, so he says, "Stand still, Mick." Mickey stands there and Mutt squeezes Mickey's nose and jerks it straight, I definitely heard a sickening crack sound but his nose is straight again. He almost passed out and his nose was bleeding for a long time before it stopped.

The next day he had two black eyes. The bottom line is the four of us got blamed as the instigators, which we were, and some poindexter asshole, the fraternity president or something, banned us from their future frat parties as if we give a shit as there are many frat houses and many parties. We then got asked to leave or got thrown out depending on how you see it. Outside we were asking Rex where the fuck he went during the fight and he said, "I just had my nails done and didn't want to get one broken scratching someone." What a fag... haha. We all laughed our asses off.

That's the only fight Mickey's gotten us in so far. I say Mickey got us in the fight because I wasn't going to start anything. I knocked that kid's beer and it went all over the guy's girlfriend. Then I stumbled and fell when he pushed me, spilling my beer. I felt we were even but then Mickey jumped the dude and that started everything. Ya know Mickey's thinking was he had to stand up for me. Yeah, that's kinda cool, but not necessary. It was a blast actually and brought the five of us closer together.

After successful midterm exams, I was absolutely exhilarated. I mean for finally doing really well. I applied myself and saw the results were worth the effort. So, we're in our last week before spring break now and before falling asleep, I'm thinking about Rex, Mickey, and I going to New York City and how different my life is from a year ago. Now I feel as though I'm living life instead of walking through it as if I'm sleepwalking and just going through the motions.

Yeah, we have reservations for a hotel in New York and tickets to three Broadway shows, plus plans for sightseeing and, all of a sudden, lying here in bed I switch from thinking about all that to thinking about how my life got turned around. Thinking how a chance encounter with that guy Dennis Hover, who I met last June, got me thinking I need to change my way of doing things. He told me that I was waiting for a miracle, sex-wise if I continued avoiding possibilities in that regard.

Yeah, him saying that finally made me be more open-minded to the lucky sex-related opportunities that started happening for me; things I made the most of instead of my previous approach the first nineteen years of my life. Then I let opportunities scare me and, therefore, I avoided them. Avoiding anything I didn't feel confident doing which pretty much included everything that had anything to do with another guy. For years I'd been living only through my dreams and fantasies. My new 'open-approach' proved to be much more successful and led to all my lucky good fortune.

So, was that my miracle? Was Dennis opening my eyes my miracle? No, there were other things leading to my present incredibly fabulous situation closer to a miracle than that. Okay, Dennis did give me good advice, but that isn't a miracle. Maybe my good fortune, my miracle, was a series of minor miracles, not just one super-miracle. Hmm, I think I read somewhere that a miracle, minor or super, requires 'divine intervention', meaning God, right? Since I don't believe in God per se, it would need to be someone else's God.

Yeah, but, why would someone's God grant ME, of all people, a miracle, and never mind a series of miracles? No, I don't see that as a possibility. Perhaps my good fortune can be attributed to an unbelievable series of fortuitous coincidences. I know coincidences do happen occasionally, but a series of fortuitous ones seems highly unlikely!

Oh, and Mickey's not divine, so that's not it either. Well, he does deserve the credit for making 'us' happen. I've come to believe that if by chance we hadn't met that time at the reservoir, Mickey would have made it happen another time. I give him most of the credit for all my good fortune; he's my substitute miracle 'cause I feel in my heart that together we have that once-in-a-lifetime-love-of-our-lives that could very well last a lifetime. How many people does that happen to? Their first love... the perfect one.

Anyway, discounting the miracle or coincidence possibilities, then, how about 'destiny?' No, I don't think there's a 'hidden power' that's controlling my future, although that might be closer to the truth than anything else. I say that because Mickey's and my future looks as bright as the stars above, and we can call it destiny because we feel we were born to be with each other.

Bottom line, I guess I don't know, or care, why I have this good fortune of living my dream. Why should I care as long as the dreams of Mickey's and mine remain golden and continue looking better and better day by day, so why wonder why? Just live it, and so that's what we do...

THE END donnymumford@outlook.com

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