DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR
Chapter 37
by Donny Mumford
Thursday morning was no different than the last couple of mornings. Robby grunting with pain when I help him get out of bed, and then more grunts and quiet "Ow's" as we go through morning necessities in the bathroom. I implore him to ask for a better pain-killer than Motrin, and Robby says, reluctantly, he'll ask about that after school today. I've switched Stop & Shop shifts with Shaun Sullivan so I'll be working his shift after classes again today, instead of my normal Friday shift. This will enable me to drive home after Friday's late class, using Robby's pickup. Ryan will chauffeur Robby around because Chubby needs the Jeep to get to and from work at Stop & Shop on Saturday. How Chubby and I have never have been able to get on the same shift at Stop & Shop is a cruel twist of fate, but it is what it is. Robby hasn't called Dodger yet about his rather bizarre solution to our dilemma; the dilemma of how I can have sex without hurting Robby's shoulder. He's going to have Dodger fill-in for him and fuck my brains out; that's apparently the best solution Robby can come up with. Even though I feel uncomfortable with that, when I muster all my extraordinary will power, I find I still can't turn-down the offer. So there's that little item staring me in the face for tomorrow night. Not necessarily a bad thing... just saying.
Nothing noteworthy happens during Thursday as we go through our college day, except I find myself complaining about taking the notes and so Robby wants to try doing in for the last course of the day. He has trouble holding his note paper in place with only one hand available to do that and also write on the paper at the same time, so I take over again after break. It's a two hour lab, so we get a ten minute break in-between each hour session. I survive that somehow and, after dropping Robby off at baseball practice, I even managed to get to work on time. Nothing noteworthy at work either, except Matthew and I have a nice chat; we're like buddies now. He tells me a little about his girlfriend, qualifying it with, "She's only the second girlfriend I've ever had, so it's not always smooth-sailing. I'm not much good at the boyfriend/girlfriend dynamic to be honest about it. Hangin' with my buds is more fun, but I hope that statement doesn't get you thinking, 'Hey, this dude must be gay,' because I swear I'm not... hahaha." I feel the need to say, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Matthew, 'cause I am. Not that I thought you were. Hope we can still be friends." He's like, "You're gay? Really?" I go, "Yep, that's me. I only mention that minor fact to the guys I think are cool enough to deal with it though, so I'd appreciate if you'd use discretion with that information." He's like, "I'm down with that, Dylan. And, um, of course we can still be friends, why wouldn't we be?" It went like that. But, him saying he's not gay doesn't mean he's not, if ya know what I mean. It just means maybe he's not. And, I especially liked his comment about preferring to hang with his buds rather than hangin' with his girlfriend. Also, he brought up the 'gay' word, not me. I just used the opening to mention my status 'cause I always feel good about myself when I do that. Man up, and all that, "be proud of who you are," that sort off ra-ra stuff.
After work I spend an hour on college materials, catching-up on everything; plus, rewriting some notes more legibly so they'll be helpful to Robby, I gotta admit Robby's right when he says taking notes helps you remember the material 'cause I've seldom felt more on top of the stuff covered in recent classes. Robby shows-up about five-thirty looking worse than ever. Ryan gave him a ride after practice. First thing Robby says to me is, "I'm so stupid, Dylan. I tried to help out by shagging flies in the outfield during batting practice. That was dumb right there, but then my instincts took over my brain when a ball's hit over my head and I jumped for it, stretching as much as I could and my bad shoulder slipped in it's socket, but didn't pop-out. I almost passed-out with the pain though, so now it's worse than it was before." I go, "Jesus, Robby!" Then soften my voice, adding, "I'm really sorry. What can I do to help?" He takes a plastic bottle from his sweatpants pocket and hands it to me, saying, "The team doctor was on campus today watching a little of the practice and talking with the trainer. He gave me these Vicodin tablets. They're 500 mg each and he says to take one as needed, but under no circumstances am I to take more that five in any twenty-four hour period. They cause liver damage if a person takes 4000mg a day; that's eight tablets, but I'm not taking more than four, no matter how bad the pain. You know, to be safe." I go, "You're smart. How much did that jump set you back in your recovery?" He shakes his head, saying, "Definitely some, but the doctor said it's probably not a significant set-back. Anyway, it got me these stronger pain pills, so that's good, don'cha think?" I go, "Yeah, I been nagging you to ask for something stronger ever since it happened. Are they doing you any good?" He goes, "Not yet, but I only took one a half hour ago."
We go out on the balcony for a cigarette and sneak-in a few wet kisses; no one can see us up here unless they're using binoculars from the building on the other side of the parking lot. Around six o'cock Chubby joins us for dinner, and he even prepares it. Homemade mac and cheese, and let me tell ya, it's way better than the frozen kind, or the kind you get in a box. I fix a salad and we have crusty bread and butter too, and home made iced tea with real lemon. Nice! Robby's pain is manageable after a while, so that's good, but neither of us mentions doing anything sexy; I'm sure Robby's relieved about that. I help him with his shower and so forth, then take one myself, jerking off again, taking me back to my middle school days. The crazy solution of substituting Dodger for Robby sounds better and better to me with each passing minute. It's a form of torture to be as horny as I am all the time, and with no relief in sight. Once again I'm thinking, 'That damn Willie took it too far with his plan, or whatever it was'. And his dominant sex is additive too; to me at least. I'm anxious about the 'Dodger plan', but don't want to ask Robby what Dodger said when he heard about it because I might appear too eager. I'm trying to be blasé about it. Then, I almost let out a groan of disappointment when, just before bed, Robby goes, "Dammit! I never called Dodger. I was gonna do it during down-time at practice and then hurt my shoulder again. Fuck!" I mutter, "Oh, call him tomorrow, or something," blasé like. Robby says, "Well there's no question he'll be all over the idea, but still I gotta call him." I go, "Uh huh," thinking 'Well call him, fer chrissakes!' but don't say it out loud. Robby's muttering to himself, "Is it too late to call, I wonder?" I go, staying cool, "Um, it's quarter to eleven, what time does the little tyke go beddie-bye?" Robby grunts out a chuckle, muttering, "The little tyke is taller than you; hell, he's a half-inch taller than me, which pisses me off, but I don't think I've totally stopped growing yet." Those two are so competitive, it gives me a headache that everything needs to be a competition between them... even who's the tallest.
Robby finally does call and of course Dodger's still up. I never went to bed by eleven o'clock when I was a junior in high school. He just turned eighteen and at that age there's texts to send to buds, and the internet to surf, and video games to play; many things to do instead of going to bed. Maybe I'd be in my room by eleven, but in bed... not likely. On his cell phone, Robby says, "Hi yourself, ya hot shit. There's something I wanna propose to you, it's a scenario you're gonna love, but hold on a second." He's sitting on the edge of the bed holding his cell phone to his chest, "Um, Dylan?" I go, "Yeah?" "Ah, no offense, but could I have a little privacy explaining this rather awkward situation to Dodger?" I go, "Oh, yeah, sure... I'll, um, get something to drink in the kitchen." I'm in my boxers, but Chubby's in the shower so I don't throw on my flimsy bathrobe, not that Chubby hasn't seen me in boxer shorts a million times. I grab a bottle of orange juice and drink from the bottle, thinking, 'I hope everyone doesn't do this rude thing,' then chuckle to myself at how ludicrous and selfish that thought was. It's a full five or six minutes before Robby calls for me, but I'm strangely not offended that he didn't want to discuss it in front of me. Those two brothers have an unusual relationship... even a secret one, for all I know. I didn't find out Robby was screwing his brother until almost two years after meeting them. Robby says, "All clear, Dylan," I trot back in, jokingly saying, "Let me down easy if Dodger rejected me." He's laughing to himself before I even said that, so I guess Dodger said something outrageous at the end of their conversation, which he does routinely. Robby goes, "Rejected you? Fat chance of that. He just said he was afraid you wouldn't want to return to me after he's done doing your ass up the right way; he doesn't want me to be disappointed... haha." "Very modest of him," I mutter. Robby goes, "Unfortunately he's taking a girl to a school play tomorrow night and he can't get out of that. He says it's excellent cover taking a girl out, and he's only doing it to fool everyone." I go, "Clever of him, I should have thought of that when I was a junior." Robby's like, "Yeah, me too, but screw it now. Anyway, he'll call you Saturday morning and set something up that's convenient for you, alright?" I ask, "Well, did he seem receptive to the idea? I don't want a pity fuck from him or anybody else!" Robby's indignant, "Pity fuck? Are you kidding; he's ecstatic! You know what he thinks of you; sometimes I think he's more enamored of you than me... and that hurts." When Robby said, 'and that hurts' he said it as a joke, 'cause he knows better. Robby's Dodger's hero, like Dodger's Vinnie's hero. I'm nobody's hero. I say, "Well, it's quite a different scenario, Robby, I'll say that for your idea, but thanks for coming-up with it. Hell, it'll be fun telling you about it afterwards." He goes, "Double fun for me because you'll tell me about it and then I'll hear Dodger's version; it'll be so different from your's it'll sound like a totally different experiences." I chuckle at that because it's so true, then he adds, "Oh, he said to tell ya that his new thing is he smokes when he's having sex, so watch for that." I go, "Oh brother!" Dodger smoked the last time he "filled-in" for his brother sexually, but that time was unauthorized. I help Robby get in a comfortable position in bed, then I come around the other side to gently slide on the mattress so we can make-out without either of us moving too much, which is far from ideal. It gives me a boner at least, so I have that to take to my sleeping bag with me. It helps a little, but not much.
Friday morning Robby's really hurting after eight hours without a Vicodin, so I get one for him before he even gets out of bed. He can lay there another half hour because our first class isn't until eleven o'clock. Two classes on Fridays, one in the morning and one in the afternoon; then it's a weekend off. We make it through the morning doing all the things that are easy to do if Robby wasn't hurt, but are a pain in the ass to do because he is hurt, and we get to Merrimack in time to easily make our class before the bell. It's a normal class and after suffering through it, with me taking notes again, Robby says, "I gotta go to the manager's office and fill-out some forms about my injury; a little 'protect their asses' on Merrimack''s part... you know how that goes." I say, "Okay, I'll be in the quad soaking up this nice sunshine. I'll meet you there, then treat you to lunch at Fuddruckers." He goes, "Deal!" and heads across campus to take care of business. At the quad I spot Travis Hunter, who threw that party the last Saturday of spring break. His roommate, Harry Black is with him. I go, "Travis, awesome party, dude!" Then, "Yo, Harry, whassup? Dude, you're sober. What's with that?" I think it's the first time I've seen him in a sober condition. He doesn't know me very well, we've only met a few times and he's been in a booze haze each time so maybe he doesn't remember. He goes, "Robby, right?" I go, "No, that's my roommate, I'm Dylan," and we bump fist with him muttering, "Oh yeah, I remember now. You were at Travis' party, dude? I didn't see ya there." I go, "You were taking a nap in the power room, I believe," and he starts this bizarre way of laughing with his mouth closed. He punches Travis on the arm, saying, "Oh yeah, I was pinching girl's ass when they sat on the hopper. They thought I was passed-out, ya know?" Travis deadpans, "Yeah, we know. My brother yelled at me for ten minutes 'cause one of the girls was his main squeeze." Harry's spraying saliva now as he does his odd laugh through closed lips, he's gets himself in hysterics recalling this episode, one of thousands like it in his memory banks no doubt." Travis just looks at me, like, "See what I gotta put-up with?" I nod, grinning, because as long as he's not your roommate, Harry's kinda funny in an off beat way; you know, the way someone splitting the back of their pants is funny. Travis tells me the gory details of the fallout from his parents. He's grounded and the parents swear they're never going on a trip again until both boys move out of the house. I go, "Ah, that's a shame," not really caring about it all that much. Then Scott Tinsdale and his shadow, Ears Henderson, wonder down and the bullshitting begins. I only believe a tiny bit of what my fellow college buds say when the topic is either drinking exploits, or matters of sexual conquest and/or near conquests, but that's not to say it's not funny listening to them lie. I tell a few lies myself, especially about the imaginary twins that Willie and I fucked in Key West. That might have happened if Willie ran into gay twin brothers perhaps, which is a much more likely scenario than us two fucking twin girls, although both are a million to one shot at best. But the guys wanted the details of my twins fucking, so I make-up some story, keeping it sketchy because, as I reminded them, "Kissing and telling is crude." But the main reason I kept it sketchy is because I don't know anything about screwing girls, much less twins.
Robby shows up looking okay, he mumbles to me he'd taken a Vicovin in the managers office and the pain is just a dull ache again. The guys consider Robby sort of a cult hero now, a freshman second-baseman who starts a college game and dislocates his shoulder sliding into third base for a triple. "Beautiful slide," Ears says, "I was at the game, dude, I saw your fuckin' arm at that weird angle and almost tossed my cookies! You're one tough bastard to be out there shagging flies after what you went through," Robby sort of eats it up, then all six of us go to Fuddruckers for lunch making enough noise with loud talking and laugher to annoy most of the other patrons, not that that concerns us a whole lot. Harry uses a fake ID card to buy two bottles of beer while everyone else chooses soft drinks. It's fun being college students, especially because we all assume everyone of the grumpy business men wishes they were one of us too. That's just the way we roll. Coming out of the restaurant, Scott gets me alone, and asks, "Hey, Dylan dude, my offer still stands to blow you. Ears thinks I'm nuts, but it interest me, ya know? How do I know if I like something if I never try it? Being bisexual would be cool, dude. Ya wanna try it with me?" Surprisingly, I do not. Not with Scott because it would be like amateur hour. Something amateurish with a beginner like Connor is okay because I like him so much, and he's so attractive too; neither of these things apply where Scott's concerned. I say, "Reluctantly I must again turn you down, Scott. But, dude, I'm flattered you think I'm hot enough to try gay sex with you. And I'm not insulted at all, like, you know, maybe ninety-nine guys out of a hundred would be, not at all," implying, of course, that it is insulting. He goes, "Insulted? I didn't mean that, Dylan dude, not at all." I go, "I'm jobbing' you, Scott." He goes, "I knew that...." A little later Robby asks, "What was Scott whispering to you?" I go, "Ah, it's nothing, Robby. He's got this idea he wishes he was bisexual and he wants to know my opinion about that." Robby's like, "Why you?" I go, "Ya got me, Robby. I don't know." We head to our last class with Robby saying, "Dammit, Dylan, I'm going to miss you even though I'm unable to, you know, do it with you. I feel awful about that, and I guess I'm a little jealous of Dodger now too. I'll be thinking about you two doing it all weekend." I go, "Think about the baseball team, Robby. This is a momentary break in the hot action between you and me. We'll be back in the saddle very soon, I just know it." He goes, "Me too, I know it too, and I can't wait. I'm storing up some spunk for you." I hope he keeps storing it and doesn't start feeling better on the trip and wants a little action. Especially since he just happens to be sharing a room with that dirt-bag, Wilcocks! I don't know that for a fact, but come on!
The last class drags-on for approximately two-and-a-half days, and then it's over; quiz on Monday... who cares? That's my attitude. I've had enough college for my Freshman year. I need a summer vacation working with Robby, oops, I mean working for Robby...haha. It'll be fun. Then a name pops into my head I haven't thought of for eight or nine months: Chad Bundy. He's another snake in the grass like that slithering, carnivorous reptile, Ryan Wilcocks. Sneaking around sniffing at my innocent boyfriend. Well, I'm not all that sure about the innocent part, but I liked the sound of the rest of it. Cory was Robby's boyfriend-on-the-side the last time I worked for The Dickers Design and Landscaping Co. Inc. Hell, I think that's the name of their company, it's been awhile now. Anyway, Robby sweeps that thought from my brain by suggesting we drive to the ice skating rink and park in the back for a farewell make-out. I like this idea 'cause nobody is in the ice skating/hockey area during the spring. I drive us over there and we have as good a make-out as is possible without moving our bodies or hugging, we do our best and it's good enough to spring two boner, one for each of us. I still have mine when I drop Robby off at baseball practice with quiet, "I love you's"... one of those sentiments for each of us. Driving back to the apartment I think of Robby, hoping his shoulder gets better, or at least improves by Monday. I miss our sex together something terrible. What if I didn't miss it? Then I'd have a problem of major proportion, but I know I love him. He's my choice forever, and I say that even though I'm looking very much forward to my sexy encounter with his brother on Saturday. I collect a few things, text my mom that I'm coming home and find she hasn't left for the restaurant yet. She texts right back asking me to dinner during her break. I've come up with another idea for tonight though, so I tell a little white lie about how I made plans with a couple of my old friends from high school. She texts back, "Have fun, sweetheart. I'll see ya Sat. Love ya, Mom". Okay, so that's done. I fill the pick-up with gas, gasping at the seventy-eight dollars showing on the gas pump when the 'ding' sounds indicating the pick-up's gas tank is full. Wow! That puts a dent in the five twenties I'm taking home with me, a big dent! Because this is what I've dubbed the "crazy idea weekend", I've come up with another crazy idea. I'm contemplating giving Ray Ellis a call. I wasn't interested in his proposal that day at the mall, but it's a whole different set of circumstances I'm dealing with now. Robby didn't say I shouldn't mess around except for Dodger, so I take that as unspoken permission. After all, it was his idea of an open relationship, okay he said partially open relationship. I mean, I was gonna bring up the topic, but he beat me to it. I assume he did because of that carnivorous creature, Wilcocks. So, I'll run with that... but just until Robby's good to go again. I really don't think he'd be that upset considering it's Ray Ellis, who's no competition for Robby. Still, why bother Robby with it at all, ya know? I'll be considerate and not mention it. Of course there might be nothing to mention if Ray's unavailable tonight.
I think sexy thoughts during the ride home, listening to "The Killers" on the pickup's CD player. Awesome rock 'n roll group! When I'm in the condo I marvel that I've only been away from home a week, but how nice it still is to be in my own bedroom. The thought of sleeping in my bed, and bot that musty sleeping bag is inviting. Checking my waterproof watch, compliments of Willie, I see it's four-thirty. Ray's home from school by now so why wait, I'll call him now before I come to my senses and change my mind. I have the phone number because of Ray's brother, Elliot, who I became friends with at Stop & Shop a couple of years ago. It's only about a three to one shot Ray will answer; it'll be either Elliot, or his mother, or Ray. And it's Ray. Hmmm, maybe I'm started a new lucky streak. I sure didn't have one going all week. Ray says, "I see from the caller ID it's you, Dylan. I'm pissed at you. You took almost a whole week to call. Surprised me actually considering how eager you were to get together with me at the mall. What's up?" After covering my mouth, snickering at his audacity, I clear my throat, but before I can say anything, he goes, "Okay, you're nervous, right? Sorry I yelled at you. Lets start over... it's your turn to say something." Haha, Ray always thinks he right about everything, as well as thinking he in charge of every situation, which is kinda funny. I hadn't remembered that about him. Well, it's not that he acts as if he's in-charge as much as he just assumes things; yeah, that's more accurate. I go, "I'm not in the least nervous, Ray, but that's neither here nor there." Ray interrupts again, "What do ya mean by that?" Okay, that's another thing I forgot; Ray's not the sharpest knife in the drawer when it comes to common sense stuff. I've only messed around with him twice, and the last time was over a year ago, or something like that, so I've forgotten a few things about him. Ray and me don't really have a history, and our couple of times together are only memorable to me in a humorous way, although he is a sexy bastard. I go, "Ah, I didn't mean anything by that, Ray. I'm calling because you said to call; what'd ya have in mind?" He goes, "It's gotta be tonight, I'm busy tomorrow night, got a blind date... or Sunday night might work." I say, "Tonight's good, Ray, I'll be back at college Sunday night." He says, "Oh that's right, you go to Merrimack. You got the idea to go there from Elliot, didn't ya?" I go, "Yeah, as a matter of fact I...." Ray, interrupts again, he's always sure that whatever he has to say is more important than what anybody else has to say, "Hey, Dylan! I just remembered something. You cut hair, right... or is that your brother?" I go, "I don't have a brother, but yeah I give my friends haircuts. Do you need a haircut?" He goes, "Desperately! I've got that blind date tomorrow night and I gotta look cool. Usually Elliot's boyfriend cuts my hair, but that fuckin' community college stuff keeps him busy and he won't be back this weekend anyway, Elliot either, so you're my man because I don't have enough coin to get a haircut and go on a blind date too." I start to tell him something, but he interrupts again. He goes, "The haircut is what you're gonna do for me, Dylan, and what I'm gonna do for you is let you suck my big dick." Before I can respond, he goes, "My mom just came in, I gotta ask her something," and he drops his cell phone on a table, or some hard surface, "Bang!" rings in my ear.
I'm wondering if this is worth the trouble, and then think, "What the fuck; I got a free weekend, go for it! Willie seems to have lost interest in me, so I need to see what else I got going for me now that I can't depend on Robby or Willie to come through for me, so ta speak. Ha ha! I know I'm being an jackass, but I feel loose and ready to have a good time, even if it's a bit weird. Plus, I somehow caught some of Chubby's haircut fetish; certainly not enough to spring a boner like he does, but I really enjoy fuckin' around with another boy's hair, cutting it and combing it, so I'm glad Ray needs a haircut. Except there's a problem with that, my barber equipment's at Merrimack. Hey, maybe I'll advertise at Merrimack next year... "Free haircuts, call this cell number." Hmmm, no I won't do that because I only want to cut certain boy's hair, not every toad who wants a free haircut; that would take all the fun out of it. Then Ray's back on the phone. "Lucky you, Dylan! I got my mom's car for tonight. She can't say 'No' to her favorite son." I go, "What about tonight?" He says, "I already told ya, you give me a haircut and maybe I fuck ya if you suck me off real good, like my girlfriend does." I give a phony, "Wow!" Then add, "I thought you just said you're taking this girl out for the first time?" He mumbles, "I meant my previous girlfriend." Then I ask, "What makes you think I'll suck your big dick, Ray?" He's indignant, "Because you did it before, and because if you do it good I'll throw-in a good fuckin' of your ass." I chuckle, then try sounding insulted, "Ray, that's a pretty big assumption on your part; insinuating I want a hard fuckin' on my ass, I mean. Whaddaya think, I'm gay or something?" He's using his calming voice, "Now don't get offended, but I happen to know you're bi. Elliot's told me you're hot with the chicks, and hell I am too, dude. I'm also desperately trying to discover if I'm bi, like you. I know you're bi for the simple reason you sucked my cock and begged me to fuck you, not once, but twice. It's as simple a deduction as adding one and one and two, dude. Not rocket science. Don't make life more complicated than it needs to be... that's how I roll." I think I'm gonna stop saying that 'roll' thing. It's gotten so everybody says it; it's gotten to be like "it is what it is". I go, "Ray, it's not 'one and one and two'... it's one and one is two." He's mystified, "What the hell....?" And I go on, "Plus, I don't recall the begging part of your last statement there. I think that's, um, how should I put it... that's maybe a figment of your active imagination." He goes, "What the fuck ya talking about now? I'm a junior in high school, don't be laying that college physiology shit on me, okay? Keep it simple! Um, I mean, no offense intended, but could ya bring it on down to my level, brainiac." I'm like, "Duly noted, Ray, and..." again he interrupts, "There ya go again with the college shit... duly noted, what the fuck does that mean? Lets talk in plain English." I'm having a good time, laughing now. He just strikes me as so oddly funny, he's not an idiot, he gets good grades, he's just uncomfortable with anything he's not totally familiar with. I think he's actively gay 'cause Elliot hinted it one time when he had too much to drink at a Saturday afternoon beer party. I'm not saying Ray's sexually active with Elliot, although he did try to talk Elliot into it a couple of years ago. Okay, Ray makes me laugh, but enough already, so I go, "Let's cut to the chase, Ray. I'd be good with the haircut except my barber tools are at my apartment at college. Sorry 'bout that, and..." He cuts in, "No problem, Dylan, I have a pair of professional barber shears that I, ah, borrowed from Ray Reeves one time, so I'll bring them with me. I don't want a clipper cut anyway; that's so last year, ya know?" I go, "No. I don't know, but okay, we'll do the haircut and see what happens. No one is here at my house except little ole me, so what time you coming over?" He goes, "We eat dinner at six o'clock on the dot, so I'll be over around quarter-to-seven. Don't get overly excited though." I roll my eyes, mumbling, "I'll try not to, see you then," and he goes, "Later, dude!" We hang up; well, actually we just click the 'end' button. I spend a few minutes trying to sort-out how I feel about this: Ray has great hair, so that part is good, and I would like to feel a dick up my ass, hmmmm? Then I chuckle and remind myself, 'Try to have some fun, Dylan! You're on your own this weekend, and that don't happen too often.'
Back in Robby's pickup, which I'm familiar with driving by now, I go to Sal's deli and get an Italian sub with hot cherry peppers for my dinner and take it back to eat it at my condo's kitchen bar, which isn't unlike the one in our Merrimack college apartment. I'm feeling horny, but I have a feeling that's gonna be taken care of before Sunday gets here, one way or another. I'm barely done the sub sandwich when the doorbell chimes. It's Ray. I go, "It's six-thirty," and he says, "I ate fast dude... knew you'd be anxious." He's the anxious one. Ray doesn't look anything like his brother. Elliot's thin, and a little feminine, but far from a swisher; he's closer to pretty than cute actually. Ray's all boy with similar facial features to his brother's, only Ray's got a swarthy complexion where Elliot's pale with red hair. Ray's hair and eyes are dark; both brothers are good looking, but where Elliot's narrow and thin, Ray's got broad shoulders and is more muscular. Nice body on Ray where Elliot's frail, with thin wrists... that sort of thing. It's almost impossible to imagine the same two people produced these brothers. I gotta consider the possibility that Mrs. Reeves might have wandered off the ranch about eighteen years ago for a fling. I say that because Mr. Reeves has red hair and is thin as a rail, so that explains Elliot, but not Ray. None of my business though. I say, "You're looking good, Ray," he says, "Same to you college boy, wicked cool haircut you're rocking' there too. And I say that even though I dissed clipper cuts a little while ago" That last part was said with a cute-boy grin on his face. A good example of what I'm always talking about. Ray's got a really cute face when he grins. Ray's the fast maturing type, meaning he already has whiskers on his top lip and under his chin, but the considerate lad has shaved recently... for me? Inside I say, "Yeah Ray, thanks. I got this haircut in Florida over spring break." He goes, "That's a type of clipper cut I hadn't considered, but it's cool." I go, "Yeah, I guess it is. Okay, for your haircut we'll go down to the finished basement. Let me see the scissors." He takes them out of his pocket, so I ask," You drove over here with these sharp scissor's in your pocket?" He goes, "Yeah, heh heh, but I didn't run with them... you should never run with scissors." I go, "Yeah, I think I've heard that before, come on downstairs." Downstairs he goes, "Cool basement, our's is cement and cinderblocks." I go, "Uh huh, sit on that stool, Ray. Ya want a cape over you to keep the hairs off your shirt?" He goes, "Of course I do, whaddaya think?" I have the plastic cape here because none of my friends at college wants anything to do with it. I take it out of the closet and wrap it around Ray and he shouts, "What the fuck is this? Don't ya got a cloth one?" I say, "I told ya, all my barber stuff's at college." He's like, "Well I'm not wearing that, I'll take my shirt off... no offense intended." I go, "Suit yourself," smirking to myself because that's what I was hoping for. Ray pulls his long-sleeved t-shirt over his head and his boyish BO becomes immediately apparent. Not real bad, it kind of goes with the rest of Ray, and as I recall it's more or less the same as last time, which is another thing I'd forgotten about until now. He must have got a whiff of it himself because he says, "Didn't want to shower until after my haircut, but I did a quick wash of my hair 'cause I'm no slob." I say, "No, certainly not, Ray," and I run my comb threw his long hair. On top it's maybe six inches long and it covers most of his ears on the sides and his collar, if he had a collar, in the back. "Wow, Ray, when'd ya get your last haircut?" He goes, "About two months ago, but I was rocking' a longer hair style for awhile now, but it's time for a change. Here, I got a picture of a dude with the haircut I want," and he pulls something from his pocket. He unfolds it to show me. It's a page he ripped out of a magazine. "I saw this in Sports Illustrated," he mutters, handing the page to me. It's a photo of a young guy, kinda hot looking, with dark hair like Ray's, cut in a longer version of the haircut I just gave Connor a few days ago. I mumble, "No problem, Ray, this won't be hard to duplicate, but it's a hell of a lot shorter hair style than you might think." He goes, "Whatever, I think I'll look as hot as that guy if I get my hair cut like him." I ask, "So, ya think this guy's hot, huh?" Ray's indignant again, "Not him, I didn't mean him, I meant his hair style."
I let it slide, but this page he handed me didn't come from Sports Illustrated. Printed in small letters right across the top of the page is, "Instinct Magazine.... the number one gay magazine in America". Ha! I don't want to embarrass him though, so I hand the page back to him, trying out the scissors, saying, "These are awesome barber's scissors. Any chance I can keep 'em?" He goes, "That would be a big fat, NO!" I chuckle, then comb up a big pile of Ray's bangs and close the scissors right on top of the comb. The blades of the scissors slide through his hair like a hot knife through butter, "Crunch!" and a big pile of four inch long dark brown hair piles in Ray's lap. "Holy shit!" he exclaims. Combing up another pile on top of his head, I again close the scissors and another pile joins it's fallen comrades. He picks up a fistful of his hair and drops it on the floor. This goes on for ten minutes. He's got a great head of hair, not course, but it's thick. It's fun to cut it all down to two inches and then I begin shaping it, wishing it would give me a boner, like Dodger gets. Unfortunately it doesn't affect me that way; my philosophy is, the more ways you can get a boner the better. No boner, but it's fun having a young stub just sitting there for me while I comb and cut his hair. I say, "This is looking good, Ray, but I'm wondering how you knew you could trust me with this great head of hair ya got here." He says, "I've seen the guys you hangout with, and they have professional looking haircuts from you, so I never had a doubt you'd do good." "Humph," I go, then "Thanks for the vote of confidence." He says, "Yeah, and those lady barbers that have taken over the barber business around here give those cookie-cutter haircuts that all look the same with the backs squared-off and all; it's just not stylish. You got style, Dylan." I mumble, "I don't know about that, but thanks again," and I give his neck a hug. He goes, "None of that, Dylan... I ain't gay." "What's so wrong with being gay," I ask, as I outline around his ear with little snips of the scissors, while pulling his ear so I don't nip it. Nice ears, by the way. Ray says, "I don't want to be called a fag or a queer; that's what's wrong with being gay." "No one talks like that, Ray. Ask your brother." He goes, "Some guys teased Elliot, but not in college, I guess." I say, "I need a little gel, Ray, to get the front hairs standing-up." He goes, "Ya got a mirror," and as I'm looking in the half-bath for gel, I say, "At my apartment; come in here and look in the mirror over the sink."
"I got the gel, Ray," I call out, but Ray's already joined me in the little bathroom. He checks himself out in the mirror pushing his bangs up with his fingers. "It looks awesome, Dylan, but shouldn't it be shorter?" I go, "I can always cut more off, Ray. And yeah, it is a little long for this style, but your hair was so long I thought if I cut it too short the contrast would freak you out." He takes the magazine picture out again to recheck the guy's haircut, then says, "Would ya mind going a little shorter?" I go, "Not at all, dude," as I brush his wide shoulder with the palm of my hand to knock off some random hair clippings. He says, "Your hand feels good, Dylan," and he looks at me with those dark eyes... is that a look of longing in his eyes? I ignore his protest about hugging a few minutes ago and hug him against me, sideways with the edge of his shoulder in against my chest, saying, "You feel good too, Ray." He doesn't protest this time, but instead surprises me by asking, "Do you ever kiss when you're playing that side of the street, the gay side?" I'm like, "What do you think?" "I don't know," he mumbles, "I accidentally surfed onto a gay site once and the boys were kissing, sucking, and then eventually fucking... so I guess you do." "You're correct, Ray, I do. Do you wanna try it?" He says, "If you insist, I guess I don't have any particularly strong feeling against trying it with you, but it seems like it'd be yucky." I lean over and kiss his cheek, asking, "Is that yucky?" His shoulder's still against me, he hasn't tried to move. He wipes his cheek where I kissed him with his fingers, still mumbling, "No I guess it wasn't particularly yucky." Cupping his chin in the palm of my hand, I slowly turn his face to me and kiss him on his lips for about five long seconds; his hand goes to his crotch for adjustment. He takes a deep breath, muttering, "That was a first for me..." I wait to see what else he has to say, and it's, "How 'bout you finish my haircut while I think about that kiss," and then another unconscious grab of his cock. I go, "Sure thing, Ray," and give his shoulder a squeeze. He says, "Somehow with you it don't seem so bad, but you're probably a lot better looking than the girl I'm taking out tomorrow night, which definitely has something to do with it." I don't say anything, instead I put my hand on the back of his neck to squeeze there again and shake him a little too... he does a little grin and leans into me. 'That's my signal,' I'm thinking. I rub my fingers through his hair, saying, "Let's finish the haircut, Ray," and he puts his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants and plays with himself, asking, "Can you do it quick?" like maybe he's anxious to get to what comes after. I go, "That would be a big fat "NO!" like he said when I asked if I could keep the scissors. I add, "No way do I want to fuck-up your hair by hurrying." He nods his head, and then we walk back to the stool. Ray's lost some of his bluster and I kinda miss the chuckles I get from that, but his naked torso is turning me on so it's a fair swap.
Basically I need to do almost the entire haircut again because I can't cut it shorter in one spot without doing the same all over his head, but I don't mind because it's enjoyable. With this re-cut I do a lot more shoulder rubs and general touching of his hot body. I'm already used to the slight BO that's evident whenever he moves his arms, so it's not his torso, it's his armpits harboring the BO, which is usually the case. Because it isn't at the offensive level, it somehow adds to his sexiness. I still can't pinpoint exactly why he seems sexy to me, but he does. Combing hair in between the first two fingers of my left hand and cutting the exposed hairs evenly with the scissors, I cut all the hairs on his head taking off another inch, and now it's pretty short, but not as short as a clipper cut. I don't need to taper the neck or outline around his ear again, so it doesn't take as long as the first cut. When I'm done I put gel on his bangs and rub some through the hairs on top of his head. Then comb the one inch bangs up, and the hair on top down. "Take a look in the mirror now, Ray." He hops off the stool brushing the hairs off his lap, and checks himself out in the half bath as I sweep-up all the hair. It's quite a pile. Ray yell, "Perfect, Dylan! You're my new barber, fuck Elliot's boyfriend, you're better." I'm thinking, 'Yeah, I probably am better, plus Elliot's boyfriend doesn't blow you or let you fuck him probably, but I'm your full service barber. Haha!' Ray says, "Okay, you can kiss me some more, then I want you to suck my cock into a hard boner, after which you'll bend over and I'll fuck you really hard; you've earned it, Dylan. That'll be my pay back for the haircut." I go, "How 'bout ten bucks instead?" He gooses me, saying, "You want it, who you kidding. You called me, didn't ya! Ha!" I'm a little randy anyway, and especially after cutting his hair so I don't even bother to argue with him, which usually leads to more unbelievably absurd comments from Ray, ones that make me laugh, but I'll bypass on that because, like I said, I'm horny. Getting no argument from me, Ray asks, "Here or in your bedroom?" I go, "Here's good, Ray," maintaining a calm exterior although, like Ray, I'm actually quite anxious to get to it. He gives me a huge smile when I said 'here will be fine'. I'm sure he tried not to do such a big smile 'cause he sees himself as cool as a cucumber, but until I confirmed I'm on board for real, he wasn't sure... my agreeing fully to it, brought on his big smile and a little giggle of glee. Yep, he's gonna get his cock sucked, at the least.
He gets control of his glee and changes the smile into his best impression of an experienced stud doing me a favor. Gawd, how do I find these boys? Haha. Ray's pulling his sweatpants down, saying, "Would you pull your pants down too," I ask, "Why?" Ray goes, "So I can fuck ya, of course." I meant "Why?" while I'm sucking his cock, but I pull then down and Ray says, "Hey! You shave your hair down there. Nice dick, Dylan," I go, "You too," and he does have a nice one. It's about five inches long, and I think I remember that it grows a little with his erection. Lots of pubic hairs, which I'm not a big fan of, but a real good set of gonads so he'll probably be shooting some prodigious amount of teen cum from those babies. Both his balls are fat, like his dick; overall a real good package on him. He says, "Try that kissing first, Dylan, like the video. I take his head between my hands and plant a long sloppy kiss on his mouth and he leans right into me, his hands around my waist and his naked package pressed against mine. It really is hot and I hear a squeak in Ray's throat. Taking my lips away to catch my breath, and find he's breathing deeply too, and muttering, "Jeez," and then he plays with his dick. He asks, "Well is that it? They did more of it on the video." I say, "You're suppose to kiss back," "Oh, yeah, I suppose they were both kissing, okay, let's try it again." I push my tongue into his mouth and he participates in a pretty damn good French kiss, so he's had experience making out, but probably with a girl because I believe him that he hasn't kissed a boy before. I tend to believe him because he just stood there for the first couple of kisses like he wasn't sure he should participate, but now he's really getting into the French kiss. It's dumb, but that little whiff of teenager BO is definitely adding to his sexiness for me. After another sloppy French kiss, we both have firm cocks, and he mutters, short of breath, "I need my dick sucked now, Dylan... is that okay?" I go, "Sure," and get down on my knees, which is the proper submissive position for sucking cocks, which I am a fan of. Taking his firm, fat, heavy cock between my thumb and forefinger to stroke it a bit, I remembered he's cut, which is too bad, but still a damn nice penis. Ray shuffles his feet moving closer to me, saying, "See if you can suck my dick better that Kathy." I go, "I'm betting I'm better than Kathy," and put it in my mouth. Quite a noticeable crotch oder as well, but like his BO it's this side of offensive and kinda boyishly hot, and it's all good. I really like the feel of cock in my mouth so a little crotch odor isn't a problem. Tonguing the head and sucking the shaft of his cock gets Ray hard as steel in what might be record time. He's hard in less than a minute and now his hands go to my shoulders, squeezing them, grunting, "Yeah, yeah, you're better than Kathy. Jesus, that feels good." He doesn't say anything about stopping so I suck on it some more and he begins moving slightly, rubbing my head, and squirming, and then he moans a long moan between his tightly closed lips. A minute later, he goes "Ump ump!, AH!" bucks his hips and a steam of cum floods my mouth, followed by four or five smaller spurts, one for each hump of his hips. Almost as much cum as Robby poured into my mouth recently, and like Robby's climax, there too much of it coming too quickly, and I can't swallow it all... cum drools out of my mouth, covering my chin. Ray leaves his cock in my mouth doing little hip thrusts with low sounds of "Mmmmmmm" quietly slipping out of his throat. He sort of fucks my mouth for a minute, probably savoring the feelings of climaxing. I never even got it in my throat! He must have been hornier than me, although that's hard to believe.
Finally he pulls his cock out to stroke it, mumbling, "Never felt that good before, goddamn. Awesome!" I've got a partial boner that's listing to my left thigh as I stand-up, and ask, "Was that good enough to get me a fuck?" I'm kidding, of course, because I assume he's done for the evening, but he says, "Absolutely, but I'll need a hour or so to rebuild my supply of cum. I'm not superman, ya know." I go, "Well, in the meantime, how 'bout sucking me off." He goes, "Ewww! No thanks." I shrug, guess that that's too girlie for him. Sucking cock is Kathy's and my kind of thing, but it apparently doesn't fit Ray's self image as the stud in a gay relationship, but how to explain the kissing then? Well, studs kiss their bitches, right? So, I guess he'll add that to his bi activity, now that he likes it. I pull up my pants and then Ray goes, "Oh yeah," and pulls his up too. Shaking his head slowly, he says, "That was the best climax I've had in ages!" I mumble, "Anything to please you, Ray," He gives me a condescending pat on the back, saying, "Don't worry, you did good, I just told ya that. I'm gonna check-out my new hairdoo again, Dylan," and he heads for the power room. I'm smiling to myself; he's an original alright. Then I yell after him, "Want a soda or something?" He comes back out running his fingers up the hairs at the back of his head, saying, "Yeah, thanks. I love this haircut! Next time I think I'll try the clipper cut version. I like the feel of my short hair; don't know why I let it grow so long this school year." I nod my head toward the steps, saying, "Let's go upstairs. I'll grab a couple of Cokes and then smoke a cigarette on the front stoop." He follows me upstairs, playing with himself, asking, "How do you think I'd look with the clipper cut version of this haircut?" I say, "You've got great hair with a very good hairline, so short haircuts will look good on you. Macho look, ya know?" "Tell me about it, dude, I know where you're coming from." I get us both a Coke and we go outside. Ray doesn't smoke, but he wants to try one because, "It's a cool look," he says, then explains "I never picked it up because no one in my family smokes and the kids I hang-out with don't either, then I met this kid who transferred in to my class this year and he smokes, so it's something I think I want to add to my look, ya know?" I shrug, saying, "It's wicked addictive, I try not to smoke more than ten cigarettes a day; but, when I'm at a party with booze I usually exceed that total. Booze and cigarettes seem to encourage more of each other whenever they're in the same conversation, so ta speak." He goes, "There you go again with that convoluted way of talking. I don't even know what the fuck you said." I go, "It's not important anyway." He talks on about this new kid, who he's obviously very interested in, so when he takes a breath, I ask, "This new kid, is he gay?" Ray's straight forward about it, "I hope so, and I think so, but he hasn't made the first move yet, on me I mean. I try to give him opportunities to do so, but so far nothing." I raise my eyebrows, questioning, and he quickly adds, "I'm interested in him only in my effort to determine if I'm bi or straight." I have a hard time not laughing at that whopper of a lie, but do my patented phony cough instead and he pats my back to help me get over the coughing, while clarifying further, "I won't know for sure I'm bisexual if I just depend on the results with you. I say that because, let's be honest here, you're extremely good looking and probably too sexy for your own good... just saying, but that may be influencing me to let you suck me off and stuff like that." I look serious, saying, "Jeez, Ray, I didn't know I'm messing-up your experiment, by being good looking, I mean; but, I think that's the first time you've ever given me a compliment." He says, "Well, it's obvious to you isn't it? I mean you're looks and sexiness are pretty obvious!" I go, "There not obvious to me at all. No, I don't see it, especially the sexiness part. What's that all about?" He tells me he can't explain it, he just feels it. Ray's being dead serious about this, like he is with just about everything. He never purposely says anything funny, and hardly ever laughs so I wonder about that. He says he's a serious person; well, he certainly takes himself seriously.
We sit out on the steps talking, but the more he says about himself and his homies, the less I know about him. Many contradictions in what he says and he's apparently oblivious to that fact. He says everything as if he's explaining something obvious to a slow learner, so I need to rely on my fake cough often. Finally Ray says, "It's the cigarettes, maybe." Meaning my cough. He's still holding the unlit cigarette I gave him, and I've smoked mind, so I ask, "Ya want a light, or have you changed your mind?" He looks at the cigarette like he didn't know it was between his fingers, then says, "Smoke it of course," so I hold out my lighter and he lights it and smokes the whole thing without once inhaling. I wouldn't have thought that possible if I hadn't watched him do it. When it's almost down to the filter, he flicks it pretty good, then says, "Can't see the attraction of smoking, but I'm going to buy a pack just so Tim sees me with it and I'll have an unlit one in my mouth when I wanna be extra cool." Tim's the transfer student I assume. We go inside where Ray wants to practice kissing some more. I say, "First this," and hand him a stick of Doublemint gum, and take one myself. "Oh, smoker's breath, huh?" he asks. I tell him I try to avoid it when I can, but sometimes it's not possible, and if both parties in a make-out have been smoking they sort of cancel one another out, but if a breath freshener is available why not use it. He nods, chewing his gum with an open mouth making that annoying wet-mouth sound, so after two minutes, I go, "Enough with the gum, Ray, we'll practice kissing now." He's like, "Sure. A little anxious are ya?" I smirk, like, "Get real!" He goes, "How about me, am I good looking and, um, attractive and sexy?" I say, "Yes you are, Ray. Didn't you know that?" He mumbles, "I thought I was, but it don't seem to have an effect on Tim, ya know?" I go, "Beauty's in the eye of the beholder," and he spits his gum into the wastebasket, muttering, "Beholder? There you go again with that double talk." I take my gum out and toss it in the waste basket with Ray's. "Come here, Ray," he goes, "Huh? Oh, yeah," and comes up to me to put his hands on my hips and lift his face up towards mine. Ray's about three inches shorter than me. I lean down and and lock lips with him. I enjoy kissing him because he's already very receptive to it. My hand behind his head, the other on the side of his face. He's damn tasty and a very good make-out too. Not everyone is, but Ray seems to take right to it so I second guess myself about thinking he's only done this with girls. We go at it for maybe five or six minutes until Ray pulls away breathing hard and grabbing his dick. "Damn, you're awesome at this, Dylan. Wow, both your boyfriends and girlfriends must be all over you, dude." I go, "Yeah, I need to beat them off with a stick. That's why I'm here with you doing this." He goes, "Because you chased them away, right?" I do laugh now, saying, "No! There aren't any to beat off, that's why I'm here with you on a Friday night." He goes, "Lucky for you I'm available tonight. Hey, to tell ya the truth, I'm a little buzzed-up from that making-out. I'm ready to fuck you now. Where do you want it?" I go, "We're upstairs, so lets go in my bedroom," and I lead him there, where he pulls down his pants as soon as we walk through the door. His dick is half boned up from the kissing, ya gotta love the recuperative powers of the young. Of course he's not even two full years younger than me, but that seems like quite a lot from my perspective.
Ray goes, "I need my dick sucked again, but don't overdo it this time!" Another fake cough from me as I bend over to suck his half boned up piece of really nice cock. It takes only a minute to get him really hard again, he's very easily aroused! Ray's back in charge now, he says "Where's your condoms?" I go, "I'm out, didn't you bring one?" He goes, "That would be a big fat "No!". I left in kind of a hurry, but I never fuck anybody without a condom." I say, "You fucked me twice without one." Ray thinks about that, then mutters, "Oh, yeah. With you I make an exception. Do you have any lube at least?" "That I have," I say, "Just a second," and I get my hidden lube out of it's hiding place under the sink in my bathroom. Ray says, "Oh yeah, that's the good stuff," as I rub his boner with it. That makes me wonder, how much fucking he's actually doing. More than I thought apparently. So I ask him, "How much fucking are you doing, Ray?" He goes, "I have a fuck buddy, but I'm not learning much from that, that's why I'm interested in Tim. I need some definitive results." Yeah, he'll be saying that when he's fifty years old and still pretending he's not sure if he's bisexual. I pull my pants down, but Ray says, "Take then all the way off." So I do, and now Ray asks, "Um, Dylan, this'll sound far out there, but would you be interested in you and me being boyfriends. I like the way you do what I tell you, and I already told you you're sexy and very cute for a guy, ya know. So, all I'm saying is we're pretty good together and I'm willing to give it a try. What do you say to that?" I go, "I'm flattered Ray, but I don't want a boyfriend right now because of my girlfriend, ya know? You must have the same concerns." He's like, "Oh yeah, sure, but I just wanted to offer, no problem though, but can we hook up once in a while this summer?" I go, "I don't see why not." He nods his head to that, then gets down to business, "Bend the fuck over, will ya?" I bend over, and Ray shouts, "Jesus Christ, I forgot about that ass of yours. Primo ass, Dylan," and he's massaging both my buttocks using both his hands, mumbling, "Really nice, dude," and a finger goes into my hole, with Ray telling me, "Hold steady there, Dylan." Then, "Your not too tight for my big hog, so," a second later his cock head pushes right past my sphincter muscle and I bite my lip to keep from moaning embarrassingly. It's as fat as Robby's with at least another inch in the length of the shaft, not that I've felt that yet. "Feeling good, Dylan?" I go, "Uh huh," and he grips my hips and plows right up until his bush is tickling my ass cheeks. "Nice!" he says, too loudly. "Really nice," and he withdraws and pushes in slowly again getting my ass muscles to accept his cock. He's had experience fer sure. Certainly more than he had the last time he fucked me, almost a year ago now. I'm jealous of youngsters like Ray and Dodger and Vinnie who know what they want at an early age and just go for it. Let's face it, Ray wasn't hesitant to nag for what he wants; he nagged me at the mall which is the reason I thought of him when I found out Dodger couldn't make it tonight. I'd sure like to know who his fuck buddy is. Could it be Elliot? Maybe I'm wrong about those two not doing it together. Come to think of it, Ray made a point of saying he and Elliot weren't doing it, and I hadn't even mentioned Elliot.
Ray says, "Your ass is drooping, get it up!" I like the sound of that and try to concentrate on the familiar tingling sensations in my rectum. Ray withdraws his cock until his swollen cocked is distending my anus lips and then slides it back in steadily and easily. I let out, a quiet "Ahhh," and he says, "I got ya now, don't I Dylan? If I pulled out now, smacked your ass, and said, 'That's all for today,' you'd be begging me, wouldn't ya?" I bite my lip and say, "Get real, Ray." He goes, "Okay, then," and he pulls his boner out, smacks my ass hard, and says, "I'm serious, that's all for tonight. You call me, and if I'm not busy, I'll finish the fuck." I go, "You little bastard, you'll finish it now." He's pulling his pants-up, his boner shiny and hard looking, the skin stretched on the shaft. It does get longer when erected. He goes, "If you say 'Please' I'll stick it back in." I want desperately to say my favorite retort, which is, 'Go fuck yourself', but I want that cock up my ass just as desperately. My pride wins out though, and I do say it. Straightening-up, I say, "Go fuck yourself, Ray. I'll never help you decide if you're bi again. And by the way..." but he interrupts, really contrite, "Jeez, Dylan, can't you take a joke. I'm kidding you. I'm not a prick... it was a joke. Can't we continue now like you said a minute ago?" I say, "Ask me nicely, using the word "Please" and I'll let you continue." "Sure," he says, "I was joking around. Please, Dylan, let me finish fucking you. I promise not to joke around again." I go, "One more 'please' if you don't mind." He does a stretched out, "Pleeeeeze". I smile at that, then say, "Let's kiss away the difference," and he comes right over so we can repeat our hot "French kiss. Then he says, "Can we continue now, Dylan. I say, "Just a second, you turn around, I want to give you that smack on my ass back." "Not too hard, Dylan. I didn't hit you too, too hard." He turn his back to me, "Bend over, Ray," he does, and he's got a cute ass too, but I can see hair in his crack so that deducts some points. I give his right butt cheek the hardest smack I can come up with, and he yells, "OWWW!" rubbing his ass and straightening-up. "I guess I deserved that," he mutters. Then, "Well my joke didn't work out for me, I can see that. Damn! That hurt." "Good," I say, and he says, "We gotta kiss away the difference again, I mean, after that smacked ass you gave me." I smile at that, he's so sincere about it, plus I like a youngster who's learned his place. The French kiss gets my dick back to semi-boner status, Ray's too, but I still need to suck his cock again, and now it's lathered with jelly and it's been up my ass, but grunge is sexy sometimes. And just like that a thought flies through my brain: 'I wouldn't think of kissing the incredibly attractive French boy in Key West once he ate his booger, but I'll suck a cock with lube on it after it's been up my ass. What's wrong with this picture? Ha!' I pick-up Ray's sticky hot cock and suck on just the head while licking it with my tongue, then suck the shaft into my mouth, inch by inch cleaning it as it stiffens and quite quickly it's a fat, hard pole in my mouth. Ray's making those squeaky sounds which he made earlier just before blowing a large load of teen spunk in my mouth. Time to pull off his hard boner, sucking on it all the way out until the heads the only thing between my lips. Two licks with my tongue and I feel his slit quiver. I stop when a spray of precum hits my tongue. Wow, Ray recovers fast! He's massaging my shoulders squirming and lifting one foot, then the other, so I gotta get his cock completely out now. Pushing it out with my tongue it makes a sucking sound breaking free of my lips and it stands straight out of Ray's significant bushy pubic patch.
I push his hand away as he goes to stroke it. Looking up at him, I say, "You were going to shoot-off in my mouth again, weren't ya?" He looks guilty, mumbling, "I couldn't help it; you're the best, un...." I mutter, "Cocksucker?" He goes, "Yeah, but I was afraid you'd get pissed-off at me again if I used that word." Hmmm, guess my decision to tell Ray to, 'Go fuck yourself' was the right choice, although I came pretty close to saying, 'please' like he wanted. His attitude adjustment is remarkable. I was right not to use that same retort with Cory though, so it's a touchy thing knowing when and when not to use that particular phrase. Standing up, I say, "Don't stroke your boner unless you want to jerk off instead of fucking me." He looks down, asking, "Ya mean I can still do it, fuck you, I mean?" I go, "Sure, but I need to ask you something: is your sex-buddy gay and not, um, bi like maybe you are?" He goes, "Oh yeah, totally gay, why?" "I'm wondering who it is, that's all. You seem much more experienced then the last time I helped you decide if you're bi." He quickly says, "I can't tell you who it is, but it's definitely not my brother." Well, that just about confirms that it is Elliot after all. I'll be damed, it don't seem like something Elliot has the stones to pull off; brother sex, I mean. None of my business of course. I put my hand behind Ray's head, and give him a quick kiss on the lips, saying, "You're much more likable when you're not trying to be an experienced hard-ass stud." He says, "I don't know how to act around you, Dylan. You're older and you seemed to like it when I'm the bad-ass, or what you just said... a stud." I go, "Guess I was giving off the wrong signals, Ray. My fault. I like you better when you're nicer." He chews his bottom lip, then mumbles, "Do you think if I continue to act the way you want, that you and me, um... could, you know, be like boyfriends? Ya know, like I suggested before" I say, "Hey, that's sweet Ray, but I wouldn't get my hopes up with that if I were you. Just some buddy sex once in a while will probably work better because I'm away at college and you've got a girlfriend, and you know, it'd be complicated." Looking at me now, he goes, "I don't need to keep the girlfriend if you don't want me to, and we could work out the different schedules, couldn't we?" I say, "Let's see what develops, Ray, but stick to buddy sex for now," and I squeeze the back of his neck again. I miss the chuckles I get when Ray's acting his normal overbearing self, but that's okay, he's more likable this way. "Ya ready?" I ask. He nods his head eagerly, muttering, "Oh yeah, my balls have finally stopped vibrating," and he's so serious about it that I do get a chuckle, then bend over, asking, "This position good for you, Ray?" His eyes have a shine to them now, "Definitely!" is his only remark as he steps up behind me and guides his boner to my anus, and with his hands at my waist he humps his hips hard forcing his cock three inches up my ass, and it feels just as good as it did five minutes ago. He slowly pushes his cock the rest of the way in, and gives an extra hump when I feel his pubic hairs surrounding my buttock. "Mmmm, uhhh," he goes. Then he rubs the palms of his hands up my back and pressing down firmly until a hand grabs each of my shoulders and pulls me back into him tightly. He drops his arms around my belly and holds me against him, then begins fucking me with hard slams into my buttocks, slapping his groin against my ass sending his boner as far up my ass as he can get it. His nuts bang between my thighs with each hard drive up my ass and he does it for a full two minutes without letting up the speed or the strength of the thrusts. I'm grunting with pleasure at each thrust of his hard boner. His cock thickens a little more as he presses the side of his face against my back and keeps his hip thrusting that great boner of his into my rectum. It's a very satisfying fuck and my cock is hard, pointing up my stomach, the lips of my pee slit are quivering as my balls get harder and harder moving up in their sac. A moan of sexual pleasure leave my lips.
Ray's tired and breathing hard so he again slams his cock tightly up my ass and leaves it there, mumbling, "I almost blew my load, Dylan. If I hadn't cum in your mouth an hour ago I'd have filled you up by now." I take a big breath, and in a strained voice, say, "Awesome fuck, Ray. Take your time." He's back to rubbing his palms up my back, under my sweatshirt now, then grabbing my sides right under my arm pits and slowly dragging the palms of his hand down my sides giving me shivers of delight and making my shoulders shudder and damn, it feels good so I tell him, "Really feels good, Ray." Sounding a little like the Ray of old, he goes, "Ya ready for some more? My cock big enough for ya?" I go, "Affirmative on both counts." He says, "Don't get pissed at me, but do you mind if I smack your ass while I'm fucking a climax out of you? It's what I do with my bro, um, my sex buddy." I say, "You're pretty much in charge, Ray. Do it your way, I'm good with that." He straightens up and smacks my ass hard, muttering, " When I'm fucking another boy they get what I wanna give them," and another hard smack on my ass. I grunt at the sting, and my cock gets hard enough to pull away from my belly on it's way to sticking straight out from my body. Ray's back to being more like his old self now, but it's hard not to feel a little dominant when you've got your cock up another boy's ass, it's natural to feel like the dominant one. "That'll do for now," he mutters, meaning the smacks on my ass, then adds, "Those ass smacks should confirm to ya who the man is here.". Then he cups my shoulder with both hand and begins slamming his cock up my ass even faster then before and I can't help but moan with each thrust because it feels so fuckin' good. "You love it like this, don'cha?" and he fucks me harder now, in a frenzy. My climax comes on me fast as all my senses are at high alert giving their fullest attention to the stimulation in my rectum; I tighten my groin muscles, let out an embarrassing squeal, and fire cum across the throw rug, then another good spurt as Ray smacks my ass twice, grunting, "Shoot your sperm, boy!" and fucks me even a little harder. When my nuts are dry and my scalp is tingling and that enormous erotic sensation of unspeakable pleasure begins to fade, Ray yelps, lays on my back with his arms around me and humps a load of teen spunk up my ass, then two more spurts as he whimpers with pleasure. He lets the awesome sensations of his orgasm spread over him for thirty seconds, then gasps, and fucks my ass in his slippery cum for two more minutes before pulling out and giving my ass one last slap. "That, my friend, is how to fuck your buddy's ass," he triumphantly says. I stand-up stroking my cock, muttering, "I can't argue with you there, Ray. Hell of a fuck, dude," and hold my fist out for Ray to bump it with his. "Ya didn't think I could fuck that good, did ya?" he asks, wanting more praise, like they all do. I say, "Actually, no. You've really upped you game, Ray. Lots of practice?" He says, "I get enough. Ya want a little more? I got more to give." I say, "Sure, it felt really good, especially since it's been awhile for me." He comes up behind me with us both standing and slides his cock back up my ass, mumbling, "Bend your knees a little," and when I do he gets his full boner inside my ass, muttering, "It's messy up there, heh heh." Holding me around the waist, with his face pressed against my shoulder, he fucks me steadily for five more minutes and just when I'm feeling a second squirt of cum getting ready to plop out of my dick, he pulls out, saying, "I'm getting a little sore, Dylan, sorry. I had a marathon sex party with my buddy just last night so my dick's getting a little tender." I go, "Jesus, dude, you've got unbelievable stamina." He smirks, "Little Ray surprised you, didn't he?" Not being sure if he's talking in the third person or referring to his dick, I go, "Yeah, I guess."
We clean-up a little in my bathroom and Ray's reverted back to the nice Ray, asking, "Um, can I hang-out with you awhile?" I go, "Sure, Ray, waddaya want to do?" He says, "Can we cruise the Loop, I'd kinda like to run into some of my buds while hangin' with you. Impress the guys, ya know?" I go, "Jesus, Ray, you think hanging with me will impress anybody? Ya gotta be kiddin', dude." He's like, "You'd be surprised." So, I drive us to the loop and we cruise around, then park and walk over to a joint for sodas. A little later, outside the movie complex, Ray runs into three guys trying to look tough and cool. They're all seventeen or eighteen which isn't much younger than me, although they act like they're fifteen or sixteen, but that might be unfair because us college kids can act childish at times too. A tall skinny kid with a big Adams apple goes, "Ray dude, ya got your hair cut, what the fuck?" Ray goes, "Fuck, Rory, ya wanna look like a middle school kid all the way through high school, go ahead. That eighties hairdo you're rocking' is so tired it's sick!" Adams apple says, "Really, why didn't ya tell me before, dude?" Ray goes, "I'm telling ya now, okay..." I guess Ray's 'the man' in this posse. Another kid, this one with shaggy blond hair, runs his fingers through his hair, saying, "I'm keeping my hair long, that's just the way I roll. Fuck short hair," then he quickly adds, "But it looks rockin' on you, Ray." Ray raises his eyebrows and makes a face, like, 'you're so pathetic', then says, "You look like shit Al, but it's just the right look for you." Then he introduces me as 'his college bud, Dylan Newman,' and shockingly none of them has ever heard of me, but they've heard of Robby, who comes up in the conversation when it gets around to 'what's it like at college?' and I describe living in an apartment with two other guys etc. etc.. "Rob Dickers is that awesome baseball player for Framingham High, right?" a short kid with facial hair asks. It seems that scruffy is cool among these guys. I go, "Yeah, he's playing second base for Merrimack now, although he dislocated his shoulder last week sliding into third base with a triple." Fascial hair says, "His picture's on the sports hall wall, my brother played with him, Bill Curry. Ya ever hear of him?" I go, "Yeah he was awesome too," although that's the first time in my life I've ever heard the name. Just wanted to make the kid feel good. He goes, "Not as good as Rob though." The boys kibitz some more as I wonder if one of these three could be another of Ray's fuck buddies; it sure ain't obvious if one of them is gay. Teens can cover that up really well when they want to. It's damn hard finding a fuck buddy because of the scarcity of gay boys, but mostly it's the fault of the deep-closeted gay boys. These three are going to a late movie, but Ray's not interested because, as he informs his homies, "Nah, I got a date tomorrow night and I might take her to see this movie. Check you derelicts out later."
That satisfies Ray's needs for showing-off apparently because he asks, "Ya wanna do something else?" I go, "Yeah, I was goig to hang-in at home tonight and watch the Red Sox game." He goes, "That's cool!" I guess I've got a companion for the night. It's fine because I've grown a little bit fond of Ray, especially when he backed-down at my 'Go fuck yourself' remark. He's got a good-guy side that he thinks need to be under wraps so he can be a tough guy. He'd be better off just being himself, but that's for him to decide. Back at the condo I first break into Chubby's condo, using the key from the mailbox, and steal two of Tris' beers. My mom never has beer in our place because she doesn't like beer, which is a lame excuse, but there it is. I don't like beer either, but it doesn't stop me from drinking it. I want Ray to feel he's had an adventure, which is the reason for the beers. We watch the game in the finished basement with me sitting on the chaise lounge that Chubby and I sit on together when we watch TV. I ask Ray, "Ya wanna share this with me?" He goes, "Yeah, I'd like to," so he sits next to me as we watch the game and drink our beers. After the beer I ask, "Ya want another one, Ray," he burps, laughs at the burp, then says, "No thanks, Dylan, I'm driving tonight," which I like. I put an arm behind Ray's neck, saying, "Let's get comfortable," and he nestles in against me giggling, saying, "I feel silly sitting with you like this, but I like it." I go, "Me too, Ray. We'll be gay tonight, then tomorrow you'll be straight with your dates." He says, "That's bi, right, Dylan?" I go, "Bingo, we got bingo." He asks, "What's that mean?" and I chuckle, then say, "It's not important." I like the feel of his body and after a while we wind-up making out, which causes tents to form in our laps, very pleasant. Ray get's out of breath, but manages to ask, "Would you like me to fuck you again?" I surprise myself by saying, "Not tonight, Ray. You did me up real good; I feel fine." He's nodding his head, muttering, "Ya didn't think I could fuck that good, did ya?" It's the second time he's asked that exact same thing, but I build-up his ego a little by exaggerating how awesome a fuck he laid on me, and he actually did a hell of a fuck for real, it's just, I don't know, I'm starting to feel like I'm taking advantage of him, and I prefer not to think that I am. I liked it better when he thought he was taking advantage of me. Maybe that's semantics, but it's how I feel. Ray's fiddling around with my wrist, maybe hinting he'd like to hold hands... or that might be projection on my part, but he sees my wristwatch and sits up, exclaiming, "Shit! I was suppose to be home before eleven, it's ten past eleven. I gotta go, Dylan." He's in a rush now and it seems out of character for him, but apparently he's responsible about getting home when his parents want him to.
Upstairs we do an awkward half hug, half handshake and he's out the door saying, "Fantastic time tonight, Dylan. Promise me we can do it again." I go, "Definitely Ray, you rock, dude." I watch him running down the steps, worried that he'll trip in his haste, but he makes it safely to the bottom. Then, before pulling away from the curb in his mother's car, he looks both ways and waits until he can pull out slowly and safely. Humph! Who'd a thought he'd be a conscientious driver?
Interesting night, and Ray's fuck was good fer sure, but by comparison to Robby, Ray has a ways to go. Wonder what's in store for me tomorrow with Dodger? Oh boy, that'll be a few steps up the ladder from Ray. Yeah, Dodger, sorta Robby's twin.
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
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