DYLAN!
CHAPTER FORTY
In bed, I'm thinking about Jake raping me, but I believed him when he said he'll never bother me again. I also believe him about providing me with some lawless revenge on somebody if I ever needed that, which I pray I never do, but if I ever should need it...
Yeah, knowing where to go for help like that feels cool, but I should be more pissed, raging mad at Jake. Maybe Chubby, being frightened that I was sick and seeing me in bed sleeping at six o'clock, showed me his love, which tempered my rage at Jake. Chubby's concern was the perfect antidote to my depressing, hateful feelings. A coincidence, of course, because Chubby didn't have any idea what I'd just been through.
Then, I laughed out loud for a second. Chubby saying my lies would cause a polygraph machine to explode.. haha. The bottom line is I believe Jake was sincere about the promises he made me, especially the one about leaving me alone. This unfortunate incident will fade away if he's good to his word.
So, yeah, I've decided to let Jake get away with it for the reasons I've already mentioned, but also because that keeps Willie and Robby out of it, which wouldn't be possible if I went to the police. Jake would mention Willie, and one thing would lead to another, and before you know it, it would be a disaster for everybody I know. I'll live with it.
Jeez, Jake sure knows how to fuck, and he has excellent equipment, too. This Saturday, when Willie fucks me, I hope I don't yawn and ask him, is that all you got, dude? Oh, fuck, it's stupid to make a joke about the rape. What's wrong with me? I'm traumatized; that's what's wrong with me! Anyway, Willie and I make love. Jake's was animalistic sex; there's a world of difference between those two.
The school day flew by Tuesday; I saw Connor Neary in the hall on my way out the front door. He had a joke for me, as usual. Gee, Connor is taller than me, and when he leaned down to tell me the joke, his long, dark hair brushed my cheek. It smelled clean and fresh. I stared at his cute lips, usually forming a grin. His super-white teeth and pink tongue looked so inviting I wanted to lick them.
Connor held me in place with his hand at the back of my neck while telling his joke, and his hand felt so smooth and dry and soft. He'd squeezed the back of my neck a little, giving me chills, and I was getting a boner standing there with him.
Oh, yeah, here's his joke: A man wakes up to find himself in the hospital and discovers he'd been in an auto accident that ruined his penis, requiring it to be amputated. The doctor tells him that nine thousand dollars will be coming to this poor bastard from the other driver's insurance. He can use the money to have a new penis fashioned, but it costs one thousand dollars for each inch of new penis, so he'd better check with his wife to make sure he and she agree on the size. He goes home thinking, yippee, a nine-inch cock; she'll love it. The next day, the doctor asks for the decision, and the man says, "We're getting granite countertops."
We groaned and chuckled. You've got to like Connor's upbeat personality, and he's hot-looking, too. I can't figure out if he's gay, and I can't figure out if he's coming on to me, either. We smile at one another, slap hands, and he runs off to catch his school bus. No bus for me because it's my turn to have the car after school.
On my way to the school parking lot, Ray Ellis bumped into me. We're both a little awkward because of that personal conversation we had yesterday after school. I'm like, "Dawg, looking good, wassup?"
Ray says, "Um, not much. Glad schools out!" I go, "Absolutely! Hey, I got my car. Do you need a ride?"
"Ah, no; thanks, Dylan. I got a ride with my homeboy from down the street." I started to say later, but then I remembered Elliot wasn't at school today, so I asked, "What's wrong with your brother?"
Ray says, "Oh yeah, I was supposed to tell you that Elliot has strep throat. He asked you to collect homework assignments for him and all that kind of shit. Do you mind?"
The first thing I thought of was, goddamn, we were supposed to get it on tomorrow, but I didn't mention that to Ray. I said, "Geez, sorry to hear that, but sure, I'll get his assignments."
Ray doesn't mention Thursday. He and I are supposed to be getting together then and maybe fuck. No mention of yesterday, either. Well, I hadn't mentioned it, so why do I think it's odd he didn't? Oh shit, he's going to back out of this; I should have taken him up on his proposal for sex yesterday.
Before I can get to the car, I see Dodger, who yells, "Dylan, wait up! I'm pumped about finally getting my haircut. I want to ride over with you."
Oh my God, this kid looks good enough to eat like an ice cream cone. I mutter, "Swell. That's my Jeep next to the lamp post."
Dodger starts biting his fingernail and pulling at the crotch of his flimsy sweatpants, mumbling, "My freakin' haircut fetish has me all worked up."
I waved to Robby and then got in my Jeep. Dodger piled in the passenger seat. As I'm starting the car, he reaches over and gooses me, then holds my hand, saying, "I'll bite your fingernails for you."
I mutter, "Gross," then drive the Jeep up behind Robby's car, and we convoy home.
Because I start work at four this afternoon, we need to do the haircuts first thing after school. We're leaving school at two-ten, so we've plenty of time. The problem with doing anything at home right after school, though, is that my Mom hasn't left for work yet. She leaves for her job at the restaurant around four.
She and Chubby's mom, Tris, carpool together. Mom being home means there's almost no chance of sneaking in some sexy minutes with Robby or Dodger. Neither of the boys will feel comfortable staying in my room, playing with our dicks somehow, with my Mom folding clothes in the next room or something. Oh well, I fucked Elliot last week, and then I had that quickie in the equipment lavatory with Robby, and there was my rape yesterday, so I'm not climbing the walls horny, although I'm always up for buddy sex or lovers' sex with my boyfriend, Willie.
It's only about a ten-minute drive to my condo. On the way, Dodger gets serious for a minute and says, "Will you help me with a little surprise I got in mind for my sex buddy, Vinnie De Marco?"
I look over with a puzzled expression and say, "This sounds like trouble for me." Dodger acts like he's insulted, "Trouble? Surely,
you jest. It's just that I've had this morbid, sick fantasy in my head for about five years now, and it seems like a good, sound idea if I make it happen with me and Vinnie."
I mutter, "Fine! Don't get me involved in any of your schemes, though; you're too nuts for me." He mumbles, "Oh, don't be like my brother, Robby. You're cool for that, Dylan. I need to use your barber clippers and, you know, your house."
"Forget about it!"
Dodger chuckles as he says, "No, be cool, Dylan. Just listen, and by the way, you're looking so totally cool lately, have I mentioned that?"
I laugh and say, "Oh, fuck, that's not too obvious at all, fake flattery?" He says, "No, I'm serious! Anyway, you know I've got this wicked haircut fetish getting a haircut, but what will it be like if I'm doing the haircutting? So, here's my fantasy; me giving Vinnie a buzz cut while he sucks my cock. What do you think? Oh, and we're both naked, I forgot that..."
I'm laughing out loud, what a fantasy! I said, "You've got to be shitting me, Dodger. Vinnie will never go along with that craziness, plus he's always had that big mop of hair."
He goes, "Oh yeah, I know. I'm thinking I'd pop off in my pants, cutting it all off. Yeow!"
Vinnie will never go for this. I mean, he'll go for the blow job, but not the buzz cut, no fucking way. We talked and laughed the rest of the way home, and as I was parking in front of my condo, I said, "Okay, you nut case, you can use my clippers and my basement, but only if Vinnie agrees, and I heard him agree to it. I'll be home from work tomorrow around four-thirty. So, here's the deal. First Vinnie himself tells me what you two are going to do, and then we'll all go downstairs for your real-life fantasy, and I'm watching, too."
As I'm saying that, I think that this will never happen, but I'm also reminded about my missing out on my scheduled fuck with Elliot tomorrow afternoon, so this is a maybe replacement at least.
A negative thought followed: I'm worried Ray is going to back out on his gay sex lessons with me Thursday night. First, Elliot lets me down, and then Ray. Two disappointments just when everything was looking like it was all going my way, and BOOM! it all falls apart. Dodger interrupts my speculation with, "You're the coolest kid I've ever met, Dylan."
Shrugging, I mutter, "I'm so fucking sure you're being sincere, dude." We're at the condo and Robby's out of his car, standing on the sidewalk, looking so cute I can hardly believe he was also my boyfriend. I have two boyfriends, Willie and Robby.
I hop out of the Jeep and get him in a headlock, and we wrestle around for a minute, giving both of us the excuse to get some serious hugs and goosing in. Dodger looks on with a mysterious expression on his face.
Dodger knows I'm gay, of course, and slowly but surely, the suspicion is mounting that Robby is, too. It is what it is, but for now, I'll leave it alone. Maybe when we graduate, we can come out as gay the way Willie and Jay have. It sure will make everything easier, although I'm just not ready yet.
Inside the condo, Dodger, Robby, and I went right for the kitchen. I passed out Snapple drinks, and Mom came in to say, "Hello, boys. Robby and Dodger, nice to see you both again. You're the best-looking boys I think I've ever seen in my life, except for my darling Dylan, that is.
He told me you were coming over for haircuts. He's such a talented boy, don't you think?"
She hugged my shoulders and rubbed my head when she said that, and then gave me a kiss on the cheek with me going, "Mommmm, please! You're embarrassing me!"
She ignores that and says, "I made double chocolate brownies for you guys, but don't eat them all, I need to take some in to work for the girls."
The boys said, "Thanks, Mrs. Newman," and I said, "Mom, we're not little kids anymore, you know. Jesus, brownies..."
She ignores that and asks, "Ask Chubby to give you a haircut, Dylan. Your hair's too long." I go, "Mom, please stop!" She passed a platter of brownies, and we all took two for starters.
She says, "Speaking of clever guys, did you see the great shelving unit Jake built in the basement for me, Dylan?"
I mutter, "Yeah, I noticed that. He was here when I got home after school yesterday. Um, you forgot to warn me about that, didn't you?" She chuckled, heading for her bedroom to shower and get ready for work, saying over her shoulder, "Oh, Dylan, Jake is a good guy. You're always giving him a hard time, and he tries to be nice to you."
I say, "Oh, righttttt. I forgot he was so nice." What can I say? I didn't say anything else. The three of us each took two more brownies and started down the steps to the finished basement. Dodger asks, "Who's Jake?" I told him, and he said, "Oh, your mother goes on dates? Geez, weird! Me first for a haircut..."
Dodger, as always, wanted a buzz cut. It has been almost six weeks since I last cut the boys' hair, so they needed a haircut in a bad way. Dodger took his shirt off, and his yummy body odor floated up off of him with me doing an inconspicuous inhale. YUMMY! Both brothers smell so good, I love it.
I had the barber tools laid out this morning, so I was ready to go. I use a number two attachment for Dodger at his request. I cut the hair to a quarter inch, and that's really short. Most buzz cuts are a half-inch, but Dodger likes it severely short because of his fetish.
I asked him, "You using the number two on Vinnie?" and he said, "Oh yeah," and Robby, sitting on the washing machine, asked, "What's this about Vinnie?"
Dodger mutters, "Who's talking to you, my favorite brother in the whole world?" The memory of Robby pops into my head, showing his concern that Dodger and Vinnie might be playing with each other's pee-pee, so I changed the subject by asking Robby about a homework assignment. Dodger gets really quiet when I start running the clippers on his head. He initially gets very still on the stool, letting the sexuality of his fetish absorb him, it's funny/weird knowing how sexually aroused I was making him, and all I was doing was running clippers through his hair.
He told me once that the very sound of barber clippers gives him a boner, and he can get a boner looking at the home haircut sets of clippers and scissors in Osco. It's hard to imagine.
Because of the length of time between haircuts, he had much longer hair than usual, and as a result, much more hair was being cut off. Clumps of inch-long hair dropped off the front of the clippers to drift down and off Dodger's shoulders, finally landing in his lap, where he picked some of it up and played with it between his fingers. This was arousing Dodger mightily, and he was no longer stationary. He began quietly moaning, "Mmmmm ohh," and blowing out air while rubbing his lap and groping his cock and balls through his pants.
Absolutely amazing how powerful a fetish can be. I purposely went back over the hair in the very front of his head, pressing down to get another fraction of an inch off and create the buzzing sound of the clippers cutting hairs, which had Dodger squirming. I couldn't drag it out for him any longer, though, and turned off the clippers to use the trimming clippers.
Dodger gasps, "I've gotta beat off right now; you two guys close your eyes," and he hops off the stool, pulling down his flimsy sweat pants and underwear, then grabs his hard three-and-a-half-inch boner. Robby and I do not close our eyes. We watch Dodger making a tight ring of his thumb and index finger, then starts stroking his uncut cock, grunting with each stroke. The foreskin is flying on and off the head of his pecker, precum spray flying around.
Robby is off the washer and next to me, watching, taking short little puffs of air as he stares at his brother masturbating in my finished basement. Robby's eyes were shiny, probably mine were, too. The only one who had his eyes closed was Dodger. His eyes closed, his head was back, and his beautiful face was scrunched up, the bridge of his nose wrinkled, as his hand flew back and forth on that short cock. One minute, tops, and Dodger was arching his back, his hand a blur as he goes, "Fuck yeah..." and a plop of creamy spunk flies out about three inches from the head of his cock and falls to the tile floor. It was quickly followed by three small strings of fast-flying cum that shot out a foot, with a squeal from Dodger, and then drips of teen sperm juice as he milked his nuts off every drop.
Robby mumbles to me, "He must have jerked off in the lavatory at school this afternoon because there's no way that's all the spunk from a Dodger climax, not unless he's recently emptied those big balls of his."
I just nodded while thinking, jerking-off in the lavatory... you've got to be shitting me. Dodger slowed his stroking, and his eyes opened to see Robby and me gawking, "Enjoy the show, you pervert?"
Robby and I, at the same time, said, "We're perverts?" and we all had a good laugh. Dodger went into the half bath to clean himself up a little, and I wet some paper towels in the utility sink and threw them near the glistening spunk spots. Robby rubbed the wet towels around with his foot, picked them up by the edge, and dumped them in the trash bin. We looked at one another with grins like, can you believe this shit?
Robby sarcastically mumbled, "Well, that was interesting," and I shook my head. Only Dodger would be comfortable pulling off a stunt like that. He came out all of the half bath perky and frisky, saying, "I needed that, whoa!! Was that bitchin'! So phat!"
He hopped back up on the stool, and I used the trimmers to finish his haircut. As I was doing it, Robby and I were saying stuff to a smiling Dodger like, "That was the grossest thing we ever saw," and "Get some fucking self-control, dude!" and "If you're this perverted at sixteen, what are you gonna be like at twenty-fucking-six." Supportive stuff like that.
Of course, Robby and Dodger often jerk off together in their room at night, racing-to-climax contests, so Dodger knew we were just breaking his balls for fun. Then, it was Robby's turn for a haircut. He wanted the flattop that he originally had me cut for him way last summer when Willie made me get a stupid flattop.
Anyway, there was a lot of hair to cut off Robby, too. It went fairly fast because he doesn't have a haircut fetish and neither do I, so it was just a simple haircut. Unexpectedly, Dodger went outside to have a cigarette and said he wanted to enjoy some silence so he could relive this latest haircut experience. He'd jerk off again tonight while reliving the buzzing sound of the clippers and the hairs tumbling off his shoulders onto his lap.
Robby and I rolled our eyes at one another, mumbling, "Un-huh." Dodger wasn't outside two seconds before I had my tongue in Robby's mouth. We made out in a fever for three minutes with my subconscious mind keeping alert for any sound on the steps from Dodger or, god-forbid, my Mom. Robby's up off the stool, the haircut half done, as we're licking tongues and groping each other's lap. I get my hand down the back of his pants, and my finger goes up his ass to the second knuckle, making a hook out of it, I pull his hole up and out a bit with the tip of my finger, pressing on a conveniently located prostate gland.
He was moaning into my mouth, grinding his boner against mine, our mouths attached by our tongues, spit spreading further and further away from our lips, past our noses. Robby starts moaning, "Ooh. Ooh. Ooh, Dylan, I'm cumming," and he blasts a load in his pants, humping against my crotch with each shot of spunk.
I was aware of each blast because his sphincter muscle closed down on my finger tightly during the shots. The first one caught me by surprise, and it was a tight squeeze by his sphincter muscle, then again, and one more long tight hold on my finger. That was his major ejaculation, the first two were start-ups. He lay his forehead on my shoulder then and whispered, "I'm in love with you, Dylan," and he kissed my neck as I rubbed the back of his half-barbered head, murmuring, "I love you too, Robby. We're alike in a lot of ways, although it might not seem like that to you."
One last kiss on his lips, and I murmured, "We better get in the half bath and clean up, dude, before the cum stains through your pants." He let go of me and said, "Yeah, you're right. Jesus, how about us Dickers brothers? Are we two fucked-up dudes or what?"
I said, "God no! I'm so grateful I know you both, you're not fucked up?
No way, you both rock!" Robby wiped cum out of his underwear, and I used soap on the finger I had up his ass. After that, I finished his haircut in silence. I had blue balls, but it ain't always my turn.
Eventually we were outside having a quick smoke. Dodger asks what took us so long, and I say, "Robby took longer to cum than you did." Dodger goes, "Oh, Riiiiiighttt" and he lit another cigarette. Robby and Dodger don't smoke on a regular basis. Sometimes, they'll go a couple of weeks without any cigarettes, and then other times, they'll binge smoke four or five cigarettes, one right after another. It's another contest thing; they're very competitive with each other and a bit nuts about it, too.
As I've mentioned before, the brothers are athletic and involved in competitive team sports, so I guess that has something to do with them being competitive with everything. Me, not so much.
I needed to get ready for work, so after one cigarette, Robby flicked his down a sewer, and I flicked mine off the front of my shirt, cursing a blue streak at that stupid cigarette butt. My cigarette-butt-flicking incompetence is well-known by now. We did quick hugs, and Dodger gave me a quick-as-a-flash kiss on my lips like the brothers often do with each other. I rubbed his newly buzzed head, his hair silky fine and so dense they felt like velvet. Off the brothers go, with me playing pocket ball again, watching their car pull away from the curb. That was an odd but sexy hour...
Inside the condo, I took a quick shower, then drove to Stop & Shop, where I was greeted warmly by the part-time guys. That's so nice. My boss, a confirmed asshole of major proportions, gave me the outdoor duty, collecting grocery carts for the entire shift, which wasn't too bad. I say that because the weather was in the high fifties, and Elliot was out sick anyway, so I couldn't ogle him, and Alex Cora had stocking shelves duty, so I wouldn't have been able to goof with him; outside is fine.
When I first arrived this afternoon, Alex had seemed sincerely happy to see me, and although I know he's straight, his tall body gets me squirmy, and I fantasize about him and me stocking shelves together naked. The shift ended at seven, and back at the condos, I went right upstairs past my condo to Chubby's because it was his turn to fix dinner. I smelled pizza as soon as I walked in his front door; it's always a rush seeing Chubby. I'd seen him in school, of course, but it's still a thrill.
Yeah, Chub and I used to do virtually everything together. That was before we got our jobs. I don't normally see him after school until dinner. We both know we need to work our part-time jobs, though; our Moms don't make a lot of money. They started working full-time as teenagers after dropping out of high school to have babies a few days apart.
Anyway, Chub and I had a normal night together, eating, doing homework, and watching sports on TV while sharing the lounge chair in the finished basement of my condo. Having a normal night with Chubby is another way of saying I had a fabulous time.
Willie called me as I was driving to Stop & Shop for work after school the next day, "Happy Wednesday, Dylan, baby!" He's always very up-beat and exuberant. He continued, "I'm coming in Saturday morning and, ah, um, well, I'll have my new roommate, Andy, with me."
I was silent while trying to process that information. Willie asks, "You there, Dylan?" I mumble, "Yes, Willie. I'm driving to work."
He says, "Jesus, it must suck being a teenager who has to work; you should be enjoying your teen years." I go, "Why are you bringing your roommate home, Willie?"
He replies quickly, "You met him after the dance last year, Andrew Scully. He's a good kid, remember? He's got this wicket crush on me, and I hate to hear him whine every time I come home to see you, so I promised I'd bring him along sometime and, um, this is it. You two need to get to know each other, and don't worry, I won't neglect you, sweetheart. Nope, you're always going to be my main homeboy-boyfriend, you know that, Dylan."
"What will the three of us do?"
Willie chuckles, "What will we do? We'll have some sexy fun together, too."
Whining myself now, I mumble, "But this is our first date in three weeks.
I was really looking forward to us two, ah, being special together. I've been missing you bad, Willie."
He says, "I know what you're missing, baby, and I'm gonna take care of that for you, don't worry. Now, stop whining, you sound like Andy."
Still whining, I ask, "Well, am I at least staying over with you at your house Saturday night?" and Willie, in an exasperated voice, says, "Of course you are, we all are, so stop that whining right now."
I mumbled a whiny, "Sorry, but I can't wait to see you though."
Willie began talking to someone, probably Andy, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. Then, back to me, he says, "Hey baby, I gotta go now, but be ready about ten o'clock Saturday morning. I need to take both you boys back up here to Leonard's for haircuts, and then we'll eat lunch in this cool restaurant in town. Bring everything you need for sleeping over because after lunch we're going right into Boston. I got primo Celtics tickets. Love you so much, Dylan."
I said, "I love you too," and he was gone. Fuck! His roommate! Oh well, he shares me with my other boyfriend, Robby, so I guess I'll share him with Andy. Celtic tickets are way cool! Hmmm, thinking about Andy a little more, I realize I'm not giving Willie up, so if that's what little freckled face Andy thinks I am, he's got another think coming.
Work was okay on Wednesday afternoon. I was on bagging duty the entire two-and-a-half hours of my shift. I'm scheduled for a Saturday shift, too, but I begged Alex Cory to take my shift, and I'll take his sucky one Sunday, from one until nine at night. The store closes at nine on Sundays. The Sunday shift is the most unpopular one of all, but I'm not missing Willie again. It's been over a month already, not three weeks like I thought at first.
Driving home, I began smiling to myself thinking about Dodger's surprise for Vinnie. I wonder if there's any fucking chance it will actually happen. I hope so because it would be a blast to watch. I mean not only Vinnie's outrage but Dodger's haircut fetish as him doing the haircutting. Haha!
Parking in front of my combo, I see Dodger and Vinnie waiting for me. Hot shit! They're sitting on the top step, passing a cigarette back and forth. Chubby and I used to do that while walking to school back when we had to walk to school. Both boys waved when I got out of the car, and up the steps, I say, "Dudes, you look so phat sitting there smoking."
We do fist bumps, and Vinnie asks me, "I'm super curious; what's my surprise?" He's a tough little kid, a next-door neighbor of the Dickers.
A year younger than Dodger, so he isn't sixteen yet, and young-looking. Not especially cute, but fifteen is a cute age for boys even if you're not particularly cute on your own, ya know? It's like, at that age, you gotta be ugly or something not to be a little bit cute.
Vinnie has a scattering of red marks on his forehead, some healing acne or something. He's Dodger's size but probably still growing. He has an olive skin tone, with brown eyes and lots of wavy brown hair parted in the middle and hanging down all around his head, covering his ears, down to his collar in back. All that hair stays on the very outside edge of each eye, giving him a very narrow-looking face. He has an average nose but absolutely fabulous lips, puffy and rosy and bowed, beautiful white teeth, and even though he's slim, he's got a double A+ perfect bubble-butt ass. Dodgers been fucking that perfect ass for nine months or so now, and he tells me that Vinnie just can't get enough. Overall, Vinnie's a tough, straight-acting, gay, bottom boy. Dodger has got himself a winner.
I say to Vinnie, "Hey, little dude, it ain't my surprise. Ask your homeboy here. It's his surprise," and I nod at the smirking Dodger, who's looking so hot today!
Vinnie takes a last drag on the cigarette, letting the smoke drift out of his nose and mouth on its own accord, then passes the butt to Dodger, asking, "You got a surprise for me, Dodger?"
One last drag for Dodger, and then he flicks the cigarette butt all the way down to the sidewalk below and says, "Yeah, it's not Dylan's surprise; it's mine. I told you about my fetish, right?"
Vinnie mutters, "What the fucks a fetish. And, no, you didn't say nothing about no fucking fed; what was that word?"
I'm thinking, this is going to be hilarious. Dodger gives Vinnie a half-assed explanation about him getting boned up from getting his haircut and tells him that's called a fetish. Vinnie's frowning incredulously the whole time. "You get your rocks off in the barbershop?" he asks, and Dodger says, "Well there, too, but lately Dylan's been cutting my hair, but don't you worry about that. It's this surprise idea for you and me that's important."
"Yeah? Well, what is it?"
Snickering, Dodger says, "It's a little idea I have for a thing in Dylan's finished basement. You kneel in front of me naked, sucking my dick, and I buzz your hair as short as mine. That's all there is to it. That's my surprise for you to participate in. You and I will be buds with the same haircut."
Vinnie looks at Dodger for a second, then looks over at me and asks, "Is he serious?" I go, "Yeah, I believe he is," and Vinnie, still talking directly to me, says, "And you're gonna watch, huh?"
Nodding, I mumble, "Yeah, if you don't mind, Vinnie. I'd like to."
He looks back to Dodger and says, "That's your surprise idea, huh? It's completely nuts; you do know that, Dodger, right? It's fucking insane! I don't mean the part about me blowing you while I'm naked, I mean the haircut part. You're no barber, and, anyway, I've never had a buzz cut."
Dodger chuckles and hugs Vinnie around the neck, saying, "You're such a knucklehead and so yummy, too; I could lick your face, but anybody can give a buzz cut." Then Dodger stops, chuckles, looks at me, and adds, "But no one can do it as good as you, of course."
I make a face at him like, I give a shit? and Dodger turns back to Vinnie to say, "Okay, stud, are you excited about this surprise?" Vinnie does a shy grin, which I didn't expect to see from him, and it occurred to me that he's into hero worship where Dodger's concerned. Then, miraculously, he nods his head yes and mumbles, "If that's what you want, Dodger, no problem. Let's do it."
I couldn't believe it, but there it is. Ain't the world full of surprising things? Dodger didn't appear the least bit surprised, while I was truly shocked; totally stunned. I looked from one to the other to see if this was maybe some kind of elaborate joke on me, but they seemed oblivious to my reaction. Shrugging, I unlocked the front door and heard Vinnie, in a quiet voice, say to Dodger, "You're still gonna fuck, me, aren't you? You said we would."
Dodger mutters, "You'll get fucked alright. That's a promise."
No, wait! These two have to be putting me on, right? Hoping they're not, I got us three cans of Coke, and we headed downstairs. I'm thinking that Dodger's from another planet, that's obvious. I already knew that, though, and now I'm thinking maybe Vinnie is too. In any case, Vinnie De Marco appears to be the perfect soul mate for my alien friend, Dodger. They're perfect for one another.
Downstairs now, Dodger looks around, then asks, "Over on the tile, Dylan?"
I nod, "Yeah, so you can easily sweep up the hair." Hottie Vinnie pulls his shirt over his head and says, "Hey Dodger, maybe I got that haircut fetish, too, because I'm feeling funny in my belly."
Dodger says, "Nah, you'd know it by now if you had it. Just get undressed, dude, you're cool," and he tousles Vinnie's hair. I turn on the radio, and an oldie from The Pretenders pours out, "You're fantastic in your boots of Chinese plastic."
This is a weird situation here, and all of a sudden, I agree with Vinnie, I feel funny in my tummy, too. I mumble, "I'll let you two do your thing all by your lonesome, I'm not going watch after all. No offense intended, but it's a tiny bit too far out there for me, a little bit too twilight zone-ish. I'll be upstairs on my computer," and right away, both boys say, "No, stay!... Stay with us, Dylan."
Dodger said, "Yeah, Dylan, this experiment needs three guys, you know, so Vinnie and I don't feel, um, strange or something. Hey, how about we all get undressed and have a three-way right after? Whadda ya say?" Then he looked at Vinnie. and asked, "Is that okay with you, Vin?"
He nods his head, and adds, "It'll be my first three-way." Dodger and I simultaneously say, "Me too...". The boys stood there looking at me.
A three-way, huh....?
To be continued... donnymumford@outlook.com
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