DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR
Chapter 31
by Donny Mumford
Standing in the shadows of the cupola, Robby and I hold our breath. His cock inside my ass feel warmer than usually, maybe Robby's blushing at the thought of us being discovered fucking outdoors in this thing. Does his penis blush too; is that why it feels warmer than usual. I get crazy thoughts when I'm nervous; like that last one thought I just had. Robby's arms are around by belly, and sweats formed between his arms and my body even though the temperature is cool out here as we remain motionless in the dark. Thank God we're standing in the dark section of the cupola, near the back. This part is shielded from the moonlight. We're not moving a muscle, and still not breathing. The voices are right next to the cupola on the path leading to the front of the house. The path Connor and I didn't notice when we first got here. I hear a yell from Chubby, thirty feet away, and shudder at the thought of him finding out about this crazy thing Robby and I are involved in. I guess Chubby and Connor are still participating in the shot drinking contest in the backyard, supposedly representing Merrimack college, or some such thing. Us college kids can think up more ways to get drunk than you can shake a stick at. One of the kids standing by us is a girl; I hear her say, "Don't act pissie, Rudy. I told you I had to be home by twelve. I'm not suppose to even be out; I'm grounded, remember?" She sounds like a real bitch. A guy's voice, presumedly Rudy's, says, "Yeah, yeah, you told me that about ten times, but this party is just getting rolling now." She says, "You are such a...." but they're walking again and their voices fade away. Robby and I let out our collective breaths as a wave of relief floods over me. What were we thinking when we thought fucking in this cupola, so close to everyone, was a good idea? The embarrassment level would have been off the fucking charts if one those two had just turned their heads slightly toward the cupola. Fuck cupolas! I'm done with them. Robby backs his cock out of my ass, the fat head making a subtle sucking sound when it comes free of my sphincter muscle. I grit my teeth together letting only a muffled, "Oooh,". But damn, that felt good. Robby and I say nothing as we're busy pulling our pants up. There are kids from Merrimack here, the news of Robby and me fucking like this would be all over the campus before we even got there tomorrow. Jesus! This was one of the stupidest ideas we've ever had. Robby quietly says, "My bad, this was a terrible idea." I mutter, "It was me who wanted you to slip your cock back in me to fuck me for another minute, and that's what almost got us caught." He says, "Yeah, but it was my idea in the first place, and it's especially dumb because I got my pickup with me. Come on, we're going down there now. You want me to fuck you so badly, we'll do it in the pickup like we normally do, and I'll do it the right way, not some quick rabbit fuck," I go, "This was originally your idea, not mine. And, um, I don't know..." Robby's emphatic as he whispers, "I'm going to fuck another climax out of you." Keeping my voice down, I say, "That's another dumb idea; people will walk past the pickup and there's no mistaking what we'll be doing in there." Robby goes, "Shhh." Then whispers, "No, that won't happen. I was the last one to arrive and my pickup is the last car on the block. Behind me is the highway and no one's walking off the highway. I'll do you with you sitting on my lap so we can see the house; if anyone comes out you'll hop off my cock and we'll sit regularly like we're talking. Or, better yet, we'll get out and light a cigarette. It's cool, come on." Most boys would be satisfied with the fuck in the cupola that we just had, but we're not most boys. Robby adds, "This cool cupola fuck hardly counts; rabbit fucks don't count." I go, "Uh huh."
As we're getting our clothes adjusted, and adjusting our cocks in our underwear, I admit to myself that I'm always up for a little more sex with Robby, and he's right; this fast rabbit fuck was more like foreplay than fucking although we both shot off like fire hoses. I didn't see him for eight full days, so bring it on Robby 'cause we got to make-up for lost time. I mumble, "Okay, you're the boss," as I follow him out of the cupola, glad to be leaving it although that so-called "foreplay" was extraordinarily hot, probably because it was so random, so dangerous too. And, I liked Robby's take-charge attitude in the cupola, and how now he's insisting on fucking me again in his pickup. It's encouraging to see Robby asserting himself, and Robby has a much more fun "take-charge attitude" then Willie's. Willie overdoes it sometimes, but Robby's just right. He's much sweeter, and I mean that in the most complementary way. I know the difference between true love, like Robby's and mine, and any other kind of love; there seems to be quite a number of different kinds of love too. As we walk, Robby's cum drools out of my ass, wetting the back of my jeans. That could be a problem. Robby says, "I can't put my finger on it, Dylan, but you're, um, I don't know... I can't say you're nicer because you're always nice, but there's something different about you lately. Like, I don't know for sure, but maybe it's that I feel you appreciate me more then you used to, or maybe it's just that we were away from each other so long. But you just seem to jump, when I say jump, metaphorically speaking. Anyway, I love the way you're responding to me, whatever the reason." I say, "I'm the same, Robby. I think, if maybe I'm a little different, it's because you seem more sure of yourself lately, and you know I like that. I'm always telling you that I like when you take charge of our sex." He says, "Maybe it's a little of me being different, plus a little of you being different; whichever came first, the chicken or the egg, who cares. I feel our relationship growing tighter; I really do. And I love that! You're loving me more, I can tell, so that's a good thing. You still have a ways to go, but together we'll get you there. Okay?" He's being kinda corny, but it's cool. And, he's only had the one beer; Robby can't drink, but he can certainly handle one beer; guess I gotta take him seriously. This isn't drunk-talk coming from him. Wish we could hold hands, and then I'm wondering if there's some reason he's acting more confident and in-charge; some reason I don't have a clue about.. Getting near the pickup an idea hits me: Maybe it's as simple as Willie's sort-of-training in Key West, teaching me how to be more submissive to my dominant partner in a relationship. Willie's "training" must be carrying-over to my relationship with Robby. It's subtle to me, but that's probably because Robby's no where near as dominant as Willie; not by a long shot. But, yeah, that must be what Robby's noticing, but what's the reason for his more dominant attitude lately? I've been staying, "You're the boss" to Robby a lot more than usual, and I haven't really argued about anything he's wanted us to do since I got back, but it's got to be something more than that. Damn, I don't feel like I'm interacting with Robby differently, but he's noticed something different about me, and I'm definitely noticing something is different with him. Maybe it ain't a bad thing... that week in Key West, I mean, because I'm responding to Robby like a good submissive should and maybe that's all the encouragement Robby needed to be more assertive. No, there's something else going on with Robby, but what? 'Forget it,' I tell myself. Hell, I'm going to be seeing Willie again, of course, and I don't believe I'm mentioning to him how he helped me improve my relationship with Robby... haha. He probably wouldn't care for the fact that he's making my other boyfriend happy about the way I respond to him, and love him. Wow, how ironic!
When we get to the pickup I see that Robby's right. We'll be looking right down the four blocks to the party house and we'll see anyone coming out of it. There are no street lights on this suburban street, but they have the outside lights on at the house, so we can see the front door perfectly. Inside the pickup I bump Robby's hand with mine, saying, "Don't you want to hold my hand? Then I take hold of his hand and Robby looks at my hand holding his, and asks, "We gonna be holding hands now?" He's chuckling, but squeezes my hand just the same. I say, "Yes, I'd like it if you'd hold my hand. I mean, since you're in-charge, you should hold my hand, not me holding yours. You know, like you'd be the guy if we were a straight couple." Robby laughs, and says, "Oh, so you're a girl now?" He's grinning and saying that as a joke, but it still strikes a nerve for some reason and I angrily snap at him, "No, does a girl have a cock? It's just that you fuck me, and straight guys fuck girls, but I'm not girlie at all! Do you think I'm girlie? How about feminine, is that what you're implying?!" He snaps back, "Dude, calm the fuck down, I was only joking! I was pulling your leg, fer chrissakes! What's wrong with you?" Obviously I overreacted to a goodnatured remark that was meant to be funny, and I was the one who brought up handholding in the first place. It's because that damn Willie brainwashed me. I get very contrite, "Oh, Robby, I don't know what got into me. I'm sorry I yelled at you, but it would crush me and break my heart if you thought I was feminine like that swisher gay boy in high school that guys made fun of behind his back. I want to be worthy of being the type of gay boyfriend you deserve." Robby looks serious, saying, "I never made fun of Jorge behind his back; I ate lunch with him many times 'cause he was a nice kid and just following his nature. And, you're the perfect boyfriend for me, Dylan... I think you're awesome! But Damn, I can tell by your reaction to my kidding that you really do love me, don'cha? I mean more than ever before and it makes me feel wonderful." I go, "Yeah, Robby, I definitely am loving you more and more. And I never made fun of Jorge either, I meant the guys macho guys who bullied everyone." He says, "Well, let's forget this misunderstanding and I'll be happy to hold your hand anytime. Then he adjust his hand so mine is inside his, adding, "When no one's around I'll hold your hand, okay? It's a great idea. Hey, is that why you held your hand out to me yesterday?" I blush, muttering, "No, I told you why I did that." He thinks for a second, then goes, "You wanted to show me your fingernails, or something." I go, "Forget about it." But he goes, "Oh no, I'm holding your hand from now on! Anyway, we've held hands before, remember when I sang my first song to you on the train to New York?" I peek up to looking Robby's eyes, murmuring, "Yeah, that was so awesome and ballsy too." Robby squeezes the hand he's holding, but because of my childish outburst I've kinda ruined the mood and it's just not the same feeling that I got from Willie when he insisted holding my hand; when I had no say in the matter of handholding. Gee, I'd love for Robby to put me into that weird little boy sensation that Willie does sometime, 'cause it's way cool.
Robby lets go of my hand, saying, "Enough hand holding, get those pants off and sit on my dick, then you can tell me all the reasons you're so in love with me. I'm really liking this new Dylan." Naturally, when Robby speaks with authority like that it gets my juices flowing; it's nothing compared to Willie, but it's damn good coming from Robby. I know it's stupid, but authority in my sex partner, especially the one I'm deeply in love with, just cranks me up and pumps my tires. And sure, some of my feelings about that are stronger now after Willie's been "instructing" me as to the proper way to be a submissive boyfriend, but still... it's all good 'cause it's bringing Robby and me closer. Smiling, I say, "Yes, boss," and begin the struggle to take off my sneakers, jeans, and wet underwear in the confines of the pickup's cab. While I'm doing that Robby's sliding his pants and underwear down to his knees, He goes, "Damn, this seat is cold on my bare ass," then another chuckle, before adding, "You know, Dylan, I really will be your boss this summer when you're working for me, but I can't show you favoritism because that would be unfair to the other guys on my crew. My dad has emphasized that to me, and he did that because he knows what good friends we are and all." I go, "I know, boss, and I'm good with that. I bet you'll be my most favorite boss of all the bosses I have all the rest of my life." I'm naked from the waist down now, sitting on the cold seat next to Robby. I hold my hand out to him, giving him a look, and he takes it grinning, and moves it over so the back of my hand is resting on his limp dick. His pubic hairs are very soft. We both snicker about that, but Robby seems to be getting the hang of this hand holding thing; it's suppose to demonstrate that he's dominant over me and moving my hand to his dick sorta is a dominant move. Putting me in my place kinda. I didn't get the hand-holding thing with Willie as quickly as Robby's picked it up. Robby says, "I need to get used to the hand holding, but your hand feels good on my dick, haha, so maybe I'll make that a routine thing." I have an approving expression on my face, and he says, "I'll hold your hand, little boy, but don't expect it when we're out in public." Maybe he doesn't fully get it after all, but he did accidentally drop-in "little boy" just now and my dick moves on the seat. Robby's letting his confidence grow where our relationship is concerned, and if he takes it up a notch, what could be hotter, or cuter...hehheh. He goes on, "Anyway, I just had a thought; I could be your boss for your whole life. That's if you come work for me after graduation. We'd still be on work crews for a couple of years, but when my dad promotes me I'll bring you on as my assistant. Well, that would be after I get settled in my new position. And in the meantime, I'd promote you to my old job as head of the crew. I'd take care of you money wise too, as best I can anyway, 'cause dad's still the head honcho." I go, "You don't mind working for your dad? That doesn't always works out so well." He goes, "Nah, I'm not worried about it. Do you think you'd like to apply for a full time job with my dad's company after college?" I go, "I don't know, maybe. To be with you, maybe I will." I said that because I'm thinking about how Chubby and I were never as close once we had separate jobs, and I'd hate to think that could happen to Robby and me. He's right, I think I do love him more now than I did before, and that's a good thing.
Robby says, "Enough talk about business, would you suck my dick a little bit?" Smiling, I mumble, "Well, it just so happens I'd be happy to," and I awkwardly scramble around getting on my knees on the floor of the pickup, and then shuffle over to get in front of Robby. I Tell him, "It's much easier if I get between your legs, but I can't with your pants in the way." Robby smirks, enjoying that I've been a little different with him since coming back from spring break. I'm looking at him thinking he'll take his pants off, but he shrugs, and goes, "You'll manage, just lean over and get my cock in your mouth." Then he raises his eyebrow, making a face, like 'what's the big deal," then he says, "It's a pain getting undressed in my pickup." I'm thinking, well I just did it, but I'm liking Robby's attitude and want to encourage it, so I merely, says, "Yes, Robby," which almost gives me a boner right there. Haha, it's almost as if I'm saying, "Yes, Willie," which I was saying most of the time the last few days of our trip. That freakin' Willie might have done Robby and me a favor without even knowing it. Him training me, or whatever he thinks it is, to be more attentive to my betters... haha. I'm liking this. Leaning over from outside his knees I get his limp dick between my fingers to lift it to my mouth, keeping my eyes at the top of their sockets staring at Robby, who's grinning down at me. He nods his head encouragingly and I suck his cock in between my lips, tonguing the head, like I always do. Slight taste of urine where he didn't shake the last couple of drops off, but no problem. Robby rubs my head, saying, "I miss feeling your hair, Dylan. Can you let it grow out for me?" Well, just maybe I will. I'll be seeing Willie again, and I want to, but I'll just insist I want to grow my hair out when I see him; that's all. I take Robby's cock out of my mouth and hold the saliva laden thing in my fingers, to say, "I like my hair like this, but maybe for you I'll let it grow out, Robby." I guess I said 'maybe' because I'm not positive about it yet. Maybe one more haircut the way Willie wants it; ya know, until he and I have time to ease back to the way we were before we broke-up, as opposed to the extreme a relationship we had in Key West. That was too much submissiveness by me. And having submissive fun with Willie can only go on until the end of the summer, but I'm not fooling myself, it'll be difficult to just cut off Willie again cold turkey. According to Robby it's a growing love, and I think he's right; so, maybe by the end of the summer it won't be as hard to bid Willie goodbye as I'm thinking it'll be right now. Robby notices a different in me that he approves of, and who better than him to decide that? He interrupts my musings with, "It's okay if you want to wear your hair this way, Dylan, because it's not all that important to me. I'll love you just as much either way. And your mouth feels awesome on my cock, so how 'bout you put it back in your mouth." I didn't even realize I was in a daze there for a second. I stupidly look at his dick between my fingers, as if I'm surprised it's there, then suck it back into my mouth. Have I ever mentioned that I like sucking certain boy's dicks? Then I think of something else I want to say, so I take the saliva laden member out of my mouth again, and hold it in my fingers like before, noticing it's much firmer already. I go, "I just wanted to tell you, Robby, that I love the taste of your cock, and I'm damn serious about that. And your clean crotch smells exactly like the rest of you smells, which is awesomely sexy. But, I wish you could shave your pubes... just saying," as I pull a hair out of my mouth. Robby says, "Right after baseball season, you can shave them for me; I like the feel of a hairless belly too." I'm back to sucking away again, giving myself a hard-on in the process; a double benefit, or double dipping, or something. Taste good, that's all I know.
Finally Robby raises his ass off the seat with a hand on the seat at each side of his ass, going, "Whoa! That's enough, Dylan, my balls are churning. I'd like to cum in your mouth, but I rather get my boner up your ass." I take his boner out of my mouth and as usually happens, there's a string of precum and saliva attached to my mouth and the head of his cock; it breaks and swings down to smear on my chin. That usually happens too, but why doesn't it ever swing the other way? I lick as much of the of precum and spit as my tongue can reach, and rub the rest away with the back of my hand. Robby asks, "Can you turn around down there?" I say, "I'll manage somehow," and with Robby's help I manage to turn around without standing-up, not that there's anyone to see me if I did stand up. It would have been ten times easier doing this standing and when I mention that to Robby, he chuckles, saying, "We ain't the sharpest knives in the drawer sometimes, are we?" "Not me anyway," I mutter. My back's facing Robby now, so I turn my head and see him take hold of his dick, guiding it to a position that will hopefully match my anus. "Okay, sit on it, slowly at first, Dylan," and that's what I do. I do it cautiously, but when the head of his fat cock touches my asshole, I sit down some more and the head easily pops past my sphincter muscle. "Ahhh," I murmur, then slide the rest of the way down to his lap and settle in completely. I can't help but wiggle around a little, enjoying the feel of his cock up my ass. Willie and my homies are keeping my pussy, oops, I mean ass, toughtened-up and I'm enjoying getting fucked even more than I used to; and that's saying something. I don't want to give Willie all the credit for me enjoying it better, but he deserves some of it probably. Robby says, "Ewww, my cum from our first fuck is all over the back of your ass... the back of your legs too. It's wet and sticky!" and he laughs, then says, "It's worth the sticky wetness to have my boner up your ass again, where it belongs, right, Dylan?" I take a deep breath, loving the way my ass feels, and mutter, "Right, Robby. It's also just where I love it to be." He asks. "Did it hurt taking my fat boy up your shoot?" I go, "No way, dude, I slid down easy on it, what with all that cum in my rectum." Obviously I don't want to mention that Willie broke my ass in the way he wanted it during the three and a half days of constant fucking. Robby goes, "I'm so considerate, aren't I? haha." I go, "If you mean for filling me up with creamy teen boy cum earlier, oh yeah, very considerate! There should always be a supply of your cum up my ass... we need to try to see that there is." He murmurs, "I'll do my best." Wow, this is awesome so I put my hands on the seat on either side of me and lift up three inches than slide down again, going, "Ummm, oh yeah..." I can't believe how great it is to have no pain at all while being fucked. After lifting up and sitting back down four or five times it gets Robby grunting with pleasure each time I do it, I ask, "Robby can I get on my hands and knees so you can fuck me the right way... hard, but slow this time" He goes, "Jesus, Dylan, the reason for doing it like this is so I can keep my eye out for someone walking down the sidewalk." I whine, "Come on, Robby, Pleeeeaase. Just for a little while." He lets air out with exasperation, muttering, "It feels great this way, but alright. Just for two damn minutes though. You're hellbent on getting us caught." I mumble, "Am not," and lift off his boner with a sigh. Wow, it feels so good having a cock inside me. Only four inches, but it's a chubby one alright; fat even, and it fills me up nicely. Then I think, "Hey, what happened to Robby being in charge?" If I suggested a change like this that Willie didn't want to make, I'd get some hard slaps on my ass for my trouble. Maybe someday Robby will be like that. Then I stroke my boner thinking about Robby being as dominant as Willie. That would be almost too hot to take; almost.
I get on all fours, balancing on the seat. Robby shuffles up between my legs on his knees, saying, "You say I'm in charge, but we always do what you want." I mutter, "We do not, and you are in charge. Who's doing the fucking and who's doing the catching here?" Robby says, "The correct way to say that is pitcher and catcher; not fucker and catcher." I go, "Where's the second baseman come into the equation?" He laughs, then says, "Like this," and he pushes his boner up my ass. I go down on my forearm with the top of my head against the passenger side door. With a grunt of pleasure, I say, "You're an awesome second baseman, Robby. Oh, your cock feels so good inside my ass." He goes, "Here comes the hard, slow fuck you asked for," and he smacks my ass, then fucks it for a while driving his crotch solidly against my buttocks with each thrust. "Perfect," I mumble and he smacks the side of my ass again. Without thinking about it, I go, "Ow!" and get another slap, along with a hard drive up my ass. 'That's perfect, Robby,' is what I'm thinking, while loving the feel of him fucking me. Can there be anything better than teen boy sex? My boner begins moving away from my belly as it gets harder and harder and a pleasure moan slips out of me; so awesome! Robby's unique scent fills the cab of his pickup; I love this fuckin' pickup! And, we got something going for us here at this moment, me and Robby; we both already had a really good climax and that means our second ones are going to require a lot of fucking. Oh man, this feels awesome, and I should be feeling this hot sexiness for awhile too. Robby's getting better and better at fucking me, and why shouldn't he? I mean, he's been doing it quite a long time now. I call out, "Ahhhh, gawd, Robby, you're good! Fuck me faster." He's grunting with his own pleasure sensations, but he manages to say, "I'll fuck you the way I want to, Dylan." I love that he said that!
Each time Robby slams his cock into me my head bumps the door, every single time. My boner's sticking straight down now, as hard as it can get, but still no precum and the side of both my ass cheeks are burning by now from Robby's stinging smacks with almost every thrust. Each one is a hard hump, not rushed, but a strong hump when his crotch hits my ass, and than, "Smack!" on the side of my ass with the palm of his hand, and he's swinging his arm from way up there. Another hard hump against my buttocks, his fat cock driving up my ass as far as it can go, he's slamming into my buttocks enough so that my ass cheeks compress, then "Smack!" I finally cry out, "That fuckin' stings, Robby!" but it feels sexy too. Robby dominating my ass like this just adds to the erotic pleasure for me. And, I don't want him to change anything, but complaining about the ass smacks adds to everything somehow. And the fact I got an extra hard smack for my whining a second ago, was awesome too! There's no talking now, just grunts and moans of pleasure. Robby's 'two minutes only' deadline long forgotten as he grunts with each thrust and slap. Both of us couldn't give a shit less if anyone's walking down the sidewalk now, our moans and grunts of pleasure are all we care about. Robby finally abandons the "slow" part of our pre-fuck agreement, but retains the hard part of it as he speeds-up his humping of my ass. He's grunting in a whiny way, which I know means he's getting ready to blow his sperm into my bowels again. I feel my oncoming climax as well. Knowing he'll be filling me up with cum very soon speeds up erotic feelings in my balls and cock. I begin constant moaning almost the same way Robby's moaning; we sound like two cats in heat; then a rare event happens... we both climax at the same time. Mine is so strong I'm jerking around to such a degree Robby's four inch boner pops out and he shoots a stream of spunk on my right ass cheek. At the same time a hard stream of cum from my cock hits the seat beneath me with a "splat" as millions of black dots fill my vision. Such incredible sensations are exploding all over my body, I whimper embarrassingly, and shake as Robby grabs my hips and slides his cock back up inside me. He hold me tight and fucks my ass the way he did it in the cupola, rabbit-fucking. It last less than a minute before he collapses onto my back, breathing hard. The familiar pounding of his heart thumps against my back as I get a hand on my cock and stroke it tightly pulling out the last few drops of cum and feel dizzy from the incredible sensations of climax. 'Okay, Robby, you're getting there dude!', is what's in my head as I savor the after-effects of my climax and then the shiver of pleasure that takes over my body for a second. I shudder and shake, then moan, "Oh, that was fabulous, Robby. So awesome." I'm temporarily exhausted, although feeling wonderful. What a great fuck Robby put on my ass! I'm almost speechless, too out of breath to say anything anyway. Robby too, all I hear is his heavy breathing as sweat drops from his face onto the back of my neck. His sweaty head finally lays on me up near where his sweat drops hit my neck, his arms hug me around my chest. Whoa, that was the real deal!
As is usual with a second climax, there barely half the volume of the first, there's much less spunk, but like I always say... it felt as good as the first one. Sometimes, for me, the second climax even feels better. Taking a huge inhale and then letting it out slowly but noisily, Robby says, "We're going to fuck ourselves to death one of these days, Dylan. I get started on you and in my head I'm saying, 'This is my true love I'm fucking,' and it gets me crazy with desire; it's the most erotic thing in the world to me, I know that for sure." He's slides off my back and sits on the seat, as I ask, "Ya got some tissues, Robby? I got cum on your seat, and your cum is drooling out of my ass again. Ya know, this seat must be covered in our sperm. A girl could get pregnant just sitting in the pickup." Robby''s chuckling as he pulls a fistful of tissues from the pocket of the driver's-side door. He hands them to me, still breathing hard, and as I wipe my cum off the seat. He laughingly says, "That's what I told Dodger when my pickup got handed down to him and I got my dad's hand-me-down one." Putting a wad of tissue under my asshole, I say, "That's funny because awhile back I said sorta the same thing to Dodger." We're both laying our heads back on the seat, resting. Fucking and climaxing is exhausting, but definitely worth the effort! Robby asks, "Ya want me to hold your hand?" I go, "You're just suppose to take my hand, not ask, but I believe I do want you to hold it," and he takes hold of it, our hands resting on the seat." Without waiting for him to ask me, I say, "That was a spectacular fuck, Robby. You're an awesome fucker! ha ha, and I mean that in only the best way." He says, "Thanks, Dylan. I didn't even have to prompt you for a compliment this time. And, you have a spectacular ass, all of it; inside and out. Your buns are top shelf. I can't think of any ass that's hotter than yours, and I'm serious about that. I'm not kidding around; what a ass on you!" I can't help but smile, mumbling, "Thanks, Robby, that's sweet although I really didn't have a lot to do with it. My ass came with the rest of me." Then I wonder, 'Hey, how many boy's asses has he seen; bare asses I mean?' I don't ask though, maybe he means in the showers at school and after baseball games, but what's he doing looking at other boy's asses? Of course. like I said, I don't say anything... I never do; not just to Robby, but to anyone I'm having sex with. I'm thinking lots of things I never say out loud. Hmmm, wonder why that is? Probably because I don't want to detract from the sexual act we just participated in, or ruin a conversation by arguing. Ain't I considerate?! I smile to myself feeling awesome. Robby really gave me a top notch fuck! Then I wonder, 'Has he been practicing on someone else's pussy, um, I mean someone else's ass? I bet he has.' Dammit!
We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, Robby holding my hand and I think we're both enjoying being happy, and sexually contented. I'm those too things fer sure, plus confused, wondering about Robby's fucking skills lately. He seems a little more "in-charge" too, hmmm? Finally Robby says, "Um, we're good, right? I mean we're seriously in love, right?" I go, "Of course we are, more than ever." He looks me in the eyes for a second, then says, "You're right about something, Dylan; you're right and I'm wrong." I asks, "Whaddaya mean?" He says, " You know, about our relationship being stronger than ever." I don't know exactly where he's going with this, there must be more. I look him in the eyes, going, "And?" He wrinkles his nose, then rubs it with his forefinger, and looks away, then mumbles, "It's nothing new, actually. I'm just agreeing with what we already agreed on before, or maybe it's something we've agreed on two times before. Nothing new." I blow out my cheeks, letting the air out slowly, then say, "Do I gotta guess what it is?" He shakes his head, still looking at his lap, "No, no, nothing like that. It's just I have to agree with you that we're young, ya know?" Again I say, "And?" Robby looks at me then, before shrugging, and going, "And a little recreational sex on the side doesn't diminish us, or our relationship. When we're a little older, doing that wouldn't be right, but we're still teenagers." I squint my eyes, saying, "Yeah, for the next few months we're teenagers. What brought this on, who do you have on the side?" He goes, "Oh, nobody, fer chrissakes. I mean, nobody that's important, that I haven't told you about, that is." "Are you referring to that maggot, Ryan Wilcocks?" I ask, with an edge to my voice. Robby goes, "He's not a maggot! He's a good kid, he just has a crush on me, that's all... kinda like Connor has on you." I sidestep that, and say, "So, the little faggot likes to suck you off, is that it? That's what you told me a couple months ago. He's still doing it, is he?" Robby says, "Don't use that word "faggot", Dylan. It's crude, and you're not crude. And please shelve your holier-than-thou attitude. I believe you just spent a week with your old boyfriend and you intimated to me, no, you didn't intimate it... you came right out and told me you were screwing with him. I was pissed-off at you at first, then later I respected you for admitting it. That's why I'm admitting about Ryan and me, again. I already told you once about him." He's right, I lower my voice, saying, "Sorry Robby, you're right. But really, he blows you, that's all?" Robby hesitates and then says, "No, I've been fucking him too, but that's only because he nags me, and I kinda like fucking him when he's wearing his glasses, they get all fogged-up." I say, "Oh brother!" Robby squeezes my hand that he's holding, saying, "Don't be like that, Dylan. I didn't bitch at you much for going to Florida with Worthington. And, I always use a condom when I'm having sex with anyone but you, do you?" Ignoring the "do you?" part, I say, "With anyone else but me? There's more than Wilcocks? Okay, I'm jealous, I admit it, but you inferred just then that there's more than just Wilcocks. Isn't there more, Robby?" He mutters, "Once in a blue moon, fer chrissakes, they're not even worth mentioning. What am I suppose to do when you're off doing God-knows-what? I might give in to very rare wild urge, but I always use a condom, do you?" I go, "Don't try changing the subject," as I do exactly that because condom usage is something I don't want to deal with at the moment. Robby quietly says, "I know goddamn well you're messin' around 'cause you look guilty sometimes." To sidestep further away from that awkward condom question, I concentrate on his "looking guilty" comment, and get defensive, "I don't look guilty, Robby. That's probably you projecting your guilt onto me. He mutters, "Bullshit!" and we're both quiet again. Another squeeze of my hand from Robby, which is reassuring. Guess I need to thank Willie for putting me on to the hand holding thing. I mean, I always liked holding hands with a boy but never thought it should be an intricate thing between boyfriends. It's coming in handy here, though.
After a minute of silence that's roaring in my ears, Robby looks at me again, saying, "Let's not fight, okay? I agreed with your premise, you were right; I admit it. And, you wouldn't have made that partially open relationship suggestion if you weren't doing stuff behind my back. Plus, guys hit on me, ya know? It's not like I go searching for it 'cause I don't!" I mumble, "I'll bet they hit on you. I can't blame them," then we're both quiet again. I'm trying to convince myself that this is working out the way I wanted it to, but that green dragon "jealousy" is fuckin' with my brain. At least I was right about Robby being more confident in sex; he's been getting a lot of practice between me and Ryan and I wonder how much of our reunion was a result of Robby's guilty conscience. He sure seemed like he wanted to please me, going a little overboard actually. But that's in hindsight, I thought it was very special at the time. I still do think it was a very special night, actually. Hmmm, Robby must be kind of dominant with that little twerp, Ryan, and some of that's carried over into our sex, Robby's and mine. That part's good. Chewing on my bottom lip now, I'm desperately trying to think of something to say, but all I come-up with is, "We're not fighting, Robby... we're having a discussion." The good thing, like I just mentioned, is better sex and we're holding hands now. And, Robby just squeezed mine again. He mutters, "I could never love another boy the way I love you, Dylan. Ryan's just recreational sex for fun." I go, "Uh huh," wondering where he came up with that term 'recreational sex'; a term I've used to rationalize to myself any number of times; recently, after letting Dodger fuck me, for example. I say, "Yeah, we're both right about this, Robby, but only till the end of the summer, alright? Then we need to reassess the situation, but if either of us notices the other isn't showing true love, we reassess the situation right then and there. Right? We cannot fuck-up anything as perfect as us being in love with each other is." Robby's looking at me now, eagerness in his face. He talks too fast, saying, "Oh, fer sure, I agree totally. But I've noticed an increased love from you lately... I already told you that. And you're responding to me better than ever, so I don't think there's any chance either of us is going to lose our true love for each other. Oh, that thing I said about you responding to me better sounded too mechanical. I just mean you're more devoted to me of late. Oh dammit, I don't mean devoted either... it's hard to put into words, ya know?" I say, "Many things are, Robby, but this is a very worthwhile discussion. Very mature of us, fer sure!" He's like, "I think so too. And to be honest with you, I can't imagine not being in love with you no matter what. I told you that at our reunion, last night, remember?" I go, "I remember. Our reunion after eight days separation, how'd we ever survive that?" He chuckles, saying, "This is no joking matter. Eight days apart requires a reunion!" I quickly agree, "You're right about that! And it'll take a lot more than you occasionally having a little buddy sex with Wilcocks, to get me to stop loving you. So I feel the same way you do." Robby leans over, his face close to mine, saying, "Me fucking Ryan is barely a step up from jerking myself off, Dylan! It has nothing to do with love." He means it, but what if a love for Ryan developed on it's own? It's been known to happen. Robby's still talking himself into it, I guess. He's saying, "Love never comes up from either of us; it's just typical buddy sex between horny teens." Actually, I'm almost relieved he's told me all this because I feel less guilty now; so, I manage to stifle my jealousy and quickly agree again, "I have to agree with you, you put that perfectly," and we kiss a quick kiss. I say, "See, we're in love so we can kiss away the differences." Robby says, "That's from a Killers' song, but it fits. Anyway, it's a load off my conscience. I feel better confessing the whole thing to you. Just so I'm sure, you agree we can continue with our sex toys on the side for awhile?" I shrug, and say, "You're the boss, Robby." He laughs and says, "You're a con artist, Dylan. And, you get to have everything your way, no matter what you say. I always agree to everything in the end; everything involving you, I mean. You better watch out though, someday that could change so don't take it for granted." I'm flabbergasted, "What nonsense! Give me another kiss, Robby. And, I'm not a con artist. Why do you keep calling me names... alley cat and con artist, and I forget what the other one was." He's laughing, then goes, "It was scaredy-cat, and all those things apply, but I love you anyway," and we do a sloppy kiss after which, Robby says, "They apply, but okay, no more name calling. Always get your way, don't ya?" but he's joking now, pulling his pants up.
I sigh because this was such an awesome night with Robby even though he's confirmed he's having sex with Ryan, and I don't believe for a minute it's the way he described it as, barely a step up from jerking off,' either, but I'll let that stand for now. I wish it were true, of course. And, I wish I could sleep with Robby tonight, but I'll have to wait until tomorrow night for that; tomorrow night when we're back in our apartment. Wow, that's right, tomorrow is the last day of spring break. What a break it's been too! Monday morning we'll resume college life and I can't wait to get started because in a few weeks summer vacation begins; the sooner we start school the quicker we can get to summer break. Yeah, this spring break has been great, but what a fuckin' roller coaster ride it's been for me. In hindsight, I loved most of it. Best spring break ever! Robby says, "Come on, get dressed, Dylan, we need to save what's left of Chubby and Connor". I go, "You're so thoughtful, Robby," I intended that comment to be wiseass and sarcastic, but it came out like I meant it, and I guess I do. Robby says, "Thanks, I'll be outside smoking." I try getting my underwear on and succeed, but they don't feel too good full of wet spunk. Robby's latest blast of cum up my ass is still leaking out, but what are ya gonna do? It makes me smile. I'm so happy right now! It feels so wonderful to be happy without a major care in the world. Pulling on my jeans, I feel the front of them; still damp from Connor's huge orgasm so I pull my sweatshirt down to cover the dark spots, front and back, and climb out of the pickup. Robby offers me his cigarette and I take two drags then hand it back to him, saying, "We made some good memories tonight, amigo." He chuckles, "Yeah we did at that, and confession's good for the soul too" Keeping it light, I go, "Yeah, I read that somewhere." Robby's apparently done with the confession part of the evening and he's concentrating instead on my 'good memories tonight' remark. He goes, "Yep, some new good memories, fucking your ass in a cupola right next to sixty drunk kids, haha. We'll be making many more memories together, Dylan; many more to come, right?" I go, "Damn right, Robby!" and we walk back to the party, finishing Robby's cigarette.
The party is still going strong, of course, and there's a noticeable increase in volume as we pour a couple of beers for ourselves in the kitchen. Then I remember, and say to Robby, "Oops, we left our beer cups on the railing of the cupola." Robby's like, "Yeah, and so...?" I go, "Yeah, guess we just leave them there." Robby says, "Along with your spunk streak on the floor, ha ha." I make a face at that and then chuckle, as we go outside. The band is on break I guess, but there's lots of laughing and conversation-noise. Someone is throwing-up in the bushes, euuuu! We start walking back to where we last saw Chubby and Connor. On the way we pass the unfortunate one tossing his cookies in the bushes and I recognize my hoodie sweatshirt on the kid who throwing-up. "Jesus! That's Connor," I say to Robby. We both go over, and I ask, "Connor, are you gonna be alright?" He turns to look at me, there's puke on his chin. He giggles, then slurs, "I'm dunk!" I go, "No shit, dude, ya wanna go home?" He giggles again, "Nah, you... what was I saving, saying, I meant to save?" I say to Robby, tell Chubby I'm taking Connor home, see if Chubby wants to come too, okay?" Robby's concerned 'cause Connor looks like shit: red in the eyes, extra pale face, and some gar around his mouth. I nod my head at Connor, saying to Robby, "I'll be in the bathroom, that little one near the kitchen, trying to clean Connor up a little." Connor looks at Robby, then at me, and says, "Ho, Dill, I'm dunk!" I laugh, and say again, "No shit." Getting a hand on his bicep, I say, "Come on, Connor," and pull him with me a few steps, but he stumbles again, giggling. Then straightens-up, and does the exaggerated, careful walk of a drunk. Two steps later he says two words to me, but I can't make out either of them. I'm lucky actually; he's already done throwing-up apparently, so I don't need to deal with that. He falls on the steps leading to the kitchen, then clings to me as we stagger towards the bathroom.
Luckily no one is using it. I guess, by now, they're all peeing in the bushes. I drag Connor inside the half-bath and lock the door. "Can you sit on the toilet for me, Connor?" He says, "I think you peed my pants." I ask, "You think you peed in my khakis?" He looks at me blankly, then says, "Dill, don't be mistooken, I throwed up." I check my khaki pants, the ones Connor's wearing, but it doesn't look like he peed in them, and there's no way I'm getting anything out of Connor that makes any sense. So, I grab the hand towel, but it's been used too often and there's strange substances on it. Dropping that, I look in the vanity and find clean towels. Smiling to myself, I'm thinking, "Where's Pedro when I need him?" He helped me clean-up drunkin' Willie, and it's a two man job. Wetting the towel I wash Connor's face and hands, then I spot some goo on his neck so I tilt his head back and wash his neck. He's loose, like he has no bones. There's some vomit on the sweatshirt I lent him, so I scrub that until there a big wet stain there. Right into the washing machine goes the hoodie when we get home, same for the khakis. Then I chuckle to myself and pull the hoodie up and look at Connor. Usually boys look hot with the hood on and Connor did earlier, but he's still looking fucked-up now as his head lulls to the side. Obviously Connor is spending the night with me. Thinking about Robby's and my agreement, I think "Geez, I can't even take advantage of what should be a good opportunity for Connor and me". Life can be ironic at times. Robby tries the doorknob, then asks, "Dylan, you in there?" I let him him and we both get Connor under an arm and haul him up. He's stumbling all over the place, his feet going this way and that as we head out of the powder room towards the front door. A girl passes us coming in as we're leaving, she stares at us, but doesn't say anything. She's drunk too, I imagine. I asks Robby, "What'd Chubby say?" Robby goes, "He's drunk too, but not this bad," nodding at Connor. Then he adds, "I'll help you get Connor in your car, and then I'll drag Chubby to my pick-up and drop him off at his condo. Okay?" I say, "Great plan, thanks for helping me, but ya better walk Chubby back to his bedroom when you get him to the condo. The front door is locked, but the key's in the mailbox." He mutters, "No problem, but too bad our night has to end like this." I go, "We had a super night, Robby. It's always super when I'm with you." He goes, "Uh huh, I'll pretend you're not BS'ing me again." I go, "Robby!!! No more name calling, remember?" and he laughs as we get Connor through the front door, then Robby says, "That wasn't technically name calling, ya know". We drag Connor out on the porch, then plop him down on the front step. I say to Robby, "Jeez, we just left two more full cups of beer in the bathroom. Travis is going to be wondering who keeps filling beer cups and leaving them around the house and yard." We both laugh at that even though it's not that funny. Connor smells like puke, yuck! I never thought I'd say "yuck" and "Connor" in the same sentence.
Robby says, "Okay, I'll stay with him to be sure he doesn't fall over and split his head open on the cement steps. You better bring the Jeep up. We'd never be able to drag him three blocks to where you're parked." I say, "Good plan," and start jogging to the Jeep, then drive up Travis' driveway and park so we can drag Connor to the car. As we're dumping him in the back seat, Connor mutters, "Wha smells, Dill?" I shut the door, muttering, "Drunks are no fun, Robby." He goes, "Tell me about it," then squeezes the back of my neck, saying softly, "I can't wait for bedtime tomorrow night, Dylan." I go, "Me neither," and we kiss a sweet lovers kiss, after which Robby says, "Well I'm off to save Chubby. Here I come to save the day," like those lame old-time Mighty Mouse cartoon on cartoon network. I watch him jog back down the path, the one that leads past the cupola. Robby's a great friend and a great lover and I savor the wonder of young love. Sighing again, I think back to our wonderful time tonight, and take a big breath. Then I say to myself, "Time to do my job of saving the day, I mean, saving Connor". Naturally he fell deep asleep the minute we laid him on the back seat, which is a good thing. As I start the car, I'm thinking, ' Humph, Connor doesn't snore even when he's drunk; I never thought he would actually'. At my condo I can't wake him and it scares me for a minute. I've parked in our garage so I run inside for another hand towel and wet it with cold water. Back at the car I wipe his face with it and after a minute his eyes open. He says, "Dats cold," I say, "Get up, Connor... I'll help you." He says, "I dunk," well he's got that concept down pat. He struggles to sit up with me helping him with a hand under each armpit. Inside the finished basement I need to sit him on the steps leading up to the condo so I can catch my breath. Good thing I never got around to drinking a lot of beers tonight. It's been a long time since the Irish coffee, and since then I've only had the shot of whiskey and two beers, plus some of another, so I'm in pretty good shape on that score. Connor's eyes are slits, his eyelids cover most of his eyes which draws my attention to his long curving eyelashes. His father must have been awesome looking 'cause his mother sure isn't. Of course, she's a druggie, maybe she was a knock-out before succumbing to cocaine and booze. I've got my second wind, so I get Connor on his feet, muttering, "Ya gotta help me here, Connor. We need to get up these steps and into my little bathroom so I can clean you up for bed. He slurs, "Hi Dill, you're cute. I lub you." I go, "That's nice, Connor, now take a step." Instead he kisses me, which normally is a very nice thing, but the boy's got vomit breath so it ain't all that sexy a kiss. I managed to move my head so he only got my cheek; if he hit my lips I might have hurled too, then where would we be? He's laying against me, face to face, so his breath is a concern to me. I've got both both my arms around his back right under his armpits, so with my legs outside his, I drag him up three steps. This ain't gonna work; he's dead weight, dragging his feet the heels catching on each step, making the going uber hard. I yell, "Fuck!"
After resting a minute, I drag him up three more steps, and rest again, thinking, "We're halfway there, might as well continue like I'm doing." Presumably Connor's asleep again. This next time I can only stagger us up two steps, then one more rest and I struggle up the last four steps gasping, and drop him on a throw rug in the kitchen. Jesus, what a struggle! Leaving Connor laying on his side in the fetal position, I go to the refrigerator and drink orange juice from the quart bottle. Damn, I'm thirsty, but I need to pee too. Checking the clock on the wall I see it's half-past one; my mom will be coming home in an hour or so. I got plenty of time. I write a note for her, saying: "Hi Mom, Connor got sick at a party that Chubby, me, and Connor were at, so he's sleeping here tonight. I'll give him the bed and I'll sleep in my sleeping bag on the floor. He didn't want to go home being sick. Love ya, Mom. Sincerely, Dylan, your favorite son." Ha ha! She'll get a chuckle out of that. Okay, now for my pee. Glancing at Connor sleeping on the floor, I head for my bathroom to pee. Then I wash my face and hands, and brush my teeth. Might as well be ready for bed before I tackle cleaning-up Connor. When I get back to him I see he hasn't moved since I last looked at him. It takes me two minutes to wake him and when he opens his eyes, he says, "Dude, where we been?" I think he means, "Where we at?" so I say, "You're staying with me tonight, Connor. We're at my condo, now help me get you on your feet." I struggle pulling him up, and he does get his legs under him, muttering what I think is a question, "We have a sleep over with you?" I go, "Yes, a slumber party. We'll sit indian style on my bed telling each other about the boys we're dating and drink hot cocoa with marshmallows melting on top. He mumbles, "Wha?", but he's walking, sort of, and I guide him into the bathroom, and then sit him in the shower stall. A shower will be faster than trying to use just a washcloth. "Connor, listen to me, okay?" He opens his yes, looks at me like he doesn't know who I am, and asks, "Dillyon?" I go, "Yes, that's right. I need you to help me undress you for a shower." He frowns, then mumbles, "Nah, tired," so I pull my hoodie that he's wearing over his head, and unbutton my blue shirt that he's wearing, and gentle lay him on his back. He closes his eyes, and goes back to sleep. Unbuckling the khaki pants of mine that he's wearing, and pulling down the zipper, I drag the pants off his ass, down to his knees. Then stare at his cum stained underpants for a second, before taking off his sneakers and socks. Connor's bare feet are nicely formed and if Chubby were here he'd be licking his lips, and probably Connor's feet... hahaha. Now I pull the khaki pants all the way off and we're almost there. Without hesitation, I pull off his underpants and leave him naked in the shower stall. After staring at his naked body and five inch flaccid penis and those very round nuts of his, I bite my lip thinking what could have been. Then shake my head and gather-up the dirty clothes and head down to the washing machine in the finished basement. When I get there I throw in all the clothes Connor was wearing, add some other of my dirty clothes from the hamper, pore in some liquid Tide, and get the machine going.
On the way upstairs I remember the silk panties I wore back from Key West and retrieve them from their hiding place. Back down stairs I go to put them in the washing machine with all the rest, and then take a big breath, thinking, "This sucks!" Back upstairs I head for the kitchen again for some more orange juice, then into the bathroom to wash Connor, who's sitting up now looking around. He must be really, really drunk. Connor says, "Hi Dill, I need to go to the pee and toilet." Well, thank God he didn't do it in the shower. I say, "Okay, I'll help you," and he looks at himself, muttering, "No clothes tonight, Dill." I chuckle and help him up, then over at the toilet I manage to sit him on it and he starts peeing immediately. Luckily his dick is long enough that he isn't peeing through the space between the toilet seat and the toilet's rim. He's looking at me again like he doesn't know who I am, but he doesn't say anything until he's done peeing. Then he says, "Thirsty?" like it's a question, but I get the message. Leaving him on the toilet, I run back to the kitchen refrigerator for a Gatorade. In the bathroom I hold it to his lips, and tilt his head back a little with a finger on his forehead. He doesn't reach for the bottle, but lets me pour it slowly into his mouth. While he's drinking I look at him sitting naked on my toilet. Even in this fucked-up condition he's a gorgeous boy. His whole body has the same very pale complexion of his face; beautiful skin, and his dark pubic hairs are the same color as the dark hair on his head. Except for that hair, and of course he'll have a little under in arms, but except for that his skin appears hairless. Connor doesn't have an athlete's definition in his arms, legs, or torso, but he's well put together just the same. Slim, but not skinny, a very huggable body, if you ask me. After he's finished almost a half quart of the blue Gatorade, he turns his head away and Gatorade spills on his chest, which drips down to his belly, and then onto his dick. He watches it, then giggles, and clumsily wipes at it. I take the opportunity to grab my mouthwash, pore some into a paper cup, and help him stand at the sink. "Here Connor, don't drink this, gargle with it then spit it in the sink." His head lulls around a little, but when I put the cup to his lips he takes half of it in his mouth and does an exaggerated gargle, much of it drooling down his chin before spitting what's left into the sink. "That taste minty," he says, drawing out the word "minty" until he's slurring it. Then he giggles, and I pour the rest in his mouth with basically the same result. Using one of the complimentary toothbrushes they give me when I go to the dentist for a cleaning, I pile on toothpaste, saying to Connor, "Open your mouth Connor," he opens it wider than I'd have thought possible, and I brush his teeth for him. He says, "I swallow it," and starts coughing. Some must have drooled down his throat. The mouthwash cup is filled with water and he gargles in the same exaggerated fashion he did with the mouthwash. I'm fuckin' exhausted by now, but feeling real proud of myself for getting this far.
Guiding Connor back to the shower, with him walking better now, I turn on the water and correct the temperature, then guide him under the water. He stands there a few seconds with his eyes closed, then sits down. Fuck! I strip my clothes off and get in with him, and it's very tight because this is a small shower stall. It's a clumsy project trying to wash a person sitting down with their chin on their chest, but I get it done, including shampooing his hair. Ordinarily it would be fun for me to bathe a naked Connor, but this is too much like hard work. I wash myself after I'm done with Connor. He's laying against the side of the stall in a sitting position with his head away from the water spray so I need to stratal him. Making quick work of washing myself, and rinsing off, I turn off the water and make wet footprints to go over and get a big fluffy towel, thinking, "Didn't I just do all this for Willie?" That seemed much easier, but of course that's because Pedro helped me. And after Pedro and me took good care of Willie, we took good care of each other... haha. Willie was even drunker than Connor, but there will be no reward after taking care of Connor, like there was in Key West with Pedro. What a sweet, adorable kid Pedro is. Oh well, that was then and this is now, so I dry myself first, then dry the parts of Connor I can reach before waking him again, saying, "Ya need to stand up, Connor." His face looks better, better color and it's probably the Gatorade diluting the alcohol in his stomach and then his blood stream. I chuckle, thinking, "I know one alcoholic beverage Connor will never drink again and it's name is rum!" He gets up grumbling something I can't make out, but I get him dry all over, then help him into my bedroom where I sit him on the bed, and of course he leans over on his side with his feet on the floor. That enables me to work a pair of my clean pajama bottoms up his legs and under his ass. Then I pull back the cover, yanking then under where he's laying on them, and get his legs up on top of the bed and his head on my pillow. Pulling the covers over him I congratulate myself, "You did it, super hero, cheers for me!" Then I put on a pair of boxer shorts and climb in bed beside Connor. Getting my arms around him is nice, but this time I'm wrapping him up because of the real possibility he'll roll off the bed, which obviously wasn't the case with Chubby my first night back. Pulling him against me in the middle of my twin bed I finally close my eyes and relax. What a monumental struggle this has been, but I feel really good about it. Then I wonder how Robby did with Chubby. I want to go and see if he needs help, but I'm so tired. Oh fuck it! I gotta see if Robby needs help, so I get out of bed and pull on sweat pants and the same sweatshirt I had on at the party. Stepping into my sneakers, without socks, I go outside and up the steps to Chubby's condo, which is directly above ours. The door's unlocked which means Robby's already been here. Inside I quietly go to Chubby's room and open the door. He's asleep, fully dressed on top of his bed. Good! He didn't throw-up. I'm so tired, I leave him like that, but I'm going to wake him in the morning, just to bust balls, and say he needs to help me with the brunch..hee hee, he's gonna be sooo pissed, and hungover. No, I won't do that. I'm smiling now, thinking about Chubby and all the things we've been through together. Locking the door behind me, and I'm going back down to my condo, there's a beep on my cell phone in a pocket of my sweatshirt. I check it; it's from Robby. The text reads, "Mission accomplished, and I'll be in bed myself in two minutes. Love ya!" Okay, all my the party boys made it home safely. Since I'm up, I go to the basement and switch the clothes from the washer to the dryer. 'Make a mental note, Dylan', I tell myself. 'First thing tomorrow morning get the clothes from the dryer. It would be awkward if mom folded the clothes and discovered girlie panties in with my stuff.' Hey, maybe she'd think I had a girl over... hmmm. No, forget that! Back in my bedroom I get naked again, except for my boxers, and get back in bed. Connor hasn't moved an inch from where I left him. Now I snuggled him in my arms again and spent a few minutes enjoying the feel of this very huggable, wonderful friend of mine. Before I fall asleep I wonder, 'Who's gonna take care of Connor in the Army?' and 'What will tomorrow bring my way?'
to be continued... Donny mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
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