DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR
Chapter 40
by Donny Mumford
After we've finished our dessert at Friendlies, Dodger drives us back to his house and then we're in inside the pool house where Dodger turns on a few low lights, just enough so we can see, and then he gives his usual command, "Take it off, boys. Get bare-ass naked." We do that, but slower than we did it earlier because all the earlier sex we've engaged in has turned the heat down in our sexual furnaces; the earlier hot glow for buddy sex is tempered, but that's not to say we aren't up for it. We're not really horny now, but we want to have a memorable threesome; none of us is gonna say, "I've had enough." That's not happening... no way. Dodger passes out the assignments with Vinnie and I all ears. Dodger goes, "Dylan gets to suck Vinnie's cock again and Vinnie, you lucky kid, gets to suck mine." He goes over and hops up on the pingpong table, sitting at the edge with his legs spread and dangling over the side. I get on my knees facing away from the table with Dodger's feet on either side of my shoulders and Vinnie stands in front of me, his limp five-plus inch penis hanging invitingly between his thin thighs. He'll need to bend over my head to get to Dodger's dick; he handles that easy enough, with a hand on each of my shoulders for support. As the wet slurping begins, it's obvious that this arrangement works well enough to accomplish boners. Because Dodger and Vinnie are going to get their boners up my ass, or at least try, they're the ones who need their dicks sucked into boners, but I usually get my own boner from sucking a hot cock, and Vinnie's got himself a perfect example of a hot cock. I'm soon stroking my hard dick as I lick and suck Vinnie's. Vinnie's cock is reasonably clean because it hasn't been up anybody's ass since our shower after round one. In round two I fucked Vinnie while Dodger was fucking me and Vinnie blew his load so there's remnants of that, but no ass juices or jelly on his fat penis. The same can't be said for Dodger's cock because it was up my ass, but it is what it is. From the wet sounds over my head, I take it the rather sloppy condition of Dodger's cock isn't bothering Vinnie all that much. I'm enjoying the taste of his as he's apparently enjoying Dodger's. I gotta wonder how many times a week Vinnie sucks Dodger off, it must be very familiar territory for both of them. Because it's our third round there's more giggling and screwing around while we're sucking cocks than earlier, when we were seriously horny. Messin' around, like me giving Vinnie's balls a good squeeze every once in a while, getting a high pitched screech from him each time. "Don't you dare bite my dick when you're screeching out, Vinnie," warns Dodger, with a follow-up chuckle. That's what's got me giggling; that, plus Vinnie's yelps. I'm doing these nut crunches as payback for all the slaps on my ass earlier, courtesy of Vinnie. Dodger's giggling because Vinnie screeches in a high-pitched voice and it's funny, like a cartoon character might screech. Vinnie gets back at me for the ball crunching by forcing out a long fart with overtones of chicken fingers, and that gets me yelling, "Oh Gawd! Gross!" as the odor wafts around my head. Vinnie and Dodger laugh their asses off at my reaction to the fart because the younger you are, the funnier farts are. So, all in all the cock sucking is not so much sexy as it's recreational fun with some cock sucking thrown in, but boners are managed after ten or fifteen minutes just the same.
With his boner bouncing in front of him, Dodger hops off the pingpong table and I give a last slurping suck on Vinnie's boner, then awkwardly get up, proud of the boner I sucked on Vinnie. Both Vinnie and Dodger stroke their most recent boners, then lather on jelly and I bend over to have lube piled on and up my asshole. "We'll need plenty of lube for this experiment," Dodger says, and Vinnie goes, "I'm excited! Our cocks squished together in Dylan's ass, WOW! Hot, huh, Dodger?" He mutters, "Calm the fuck down and let me try to remember how they did this on the video." I go, "How 'bout I bend over with my hands on the pingpong table for support?" We try that, and with me bending over Dodger forces his cock up my ass, giving me an even nicer boner. Damn, it feels good having a cock inside me again. I got hard from sucking Vinnie's awesome cock, but with Dodger humping my ass my boner's hardness gets kicked-up a notch. Dodger fucks me for two minutes, then says, "Come on, Vinnie, squeeze your boner in next to mine, I got him opened up pretty good." They're tightly side by side, each with an arm around the other's back. It's not as easy as you might think though 'cause they need to do a half turn away from each other to allow Vinnie access to my asshole. Then I feel the head of Vinnie's cock stretching my anus, it's stretching and stretching. After a minute a little more of Vinnie's cock goes in and I scream, "Owww! Fuck, that hurts!" Dodger says, "Everybody stay calm, and don't move. We'll give your ass time to adjust, Dylan." Then I hear some quiet giggling from the boys at my rear end. I turn my head, but can only see Vinnie who has his hand over his mouth trying not to laugh out loud. I guess from their point of view it is funny, but to me, not so much. In another minute my anus amazingly stretches even more so Vinnie gets his cock in a little further, and it's the tightest thing I've ever felt, but my ass has been used so often in Key West, and since Key West, that it's pretty tough. The problem is, when Vinnie's pushing his boner in next to Dodger's, it means Dodger needs to move away a little to allow Vinnie more access and Dodger's cock slips out. They try it a half dozen ways, adjusting the position of their bodies this way and that, but Dodger's cock is simply not long enough for both cocks to be in me even two inches. My ass is way opened up now, so that's not the problem. Vinnie says, "Your dick's too short, Dodger," which gets me laughing. It was the definitive way he said it, so matter of fact, and Dodger yells, "No shit, Einstein!!" and I'm biting my tongue to keep from laughing harder. Vinnie's like, "Don't get mad at me, Dodger. It's not my fault." Dodger's cock is out entirely now so Vinnie takes the opportunity to thrusts his boner up my ass, all the way up till his pubic hairs tickle my ass cheeks, then out and almost all the way up again. He mutters, "I got a good boner going for me, Dodger," and he grips my ass and fucks me fast for ninety seconds as Dodger lights a cigarette, asking, "What the hell ya doing, Vinnie?" Vinnie goes, "Whaddaya mean?" Even with all the fucking I've had today, it still feels really good.
Dodger pulls Vinnie away saying, "Cool down, Vinnie!" I would've been content to let him fuck a climax out of me, but Dodger's like, "We're going to make this work, but I guess I'll need to switch places with Dylan." Vinnie pushes his cock up my ass again and gives my ass four more fast thrusts of his boner, then pulls out, casually saying, "Yeah, it'll probably work with Dylan's and my longer cocks," and I do about four fake coughs to cover up my laughing at the way Vinnie's unknowingly rubbing it in to Dodger that he has a small dick. Dodger mimics Vinnie, "Yeah, that'll probably work," then he whacks Vinnie's ass. Vinnie yelps and his hand goes back to his smacked ass to rub it. He mutters, "What?" but he has nothing more to say. Dodger takes a deep breath and goes, "Vinnie suck on Dylan's cock for a minute, will ya? It's already hard from you fucking him, but we need it uber hard, and as long as it'll get. Let's get this experiment moving along." I think we're all losing a little enthusiasm for the project, but we're not quitters. Vinnie bends over and takes my already hard cock in his mouth and does his magic on it, and it does gets harder. I'm soon grunting, "That's good Vinnie, that's good..." He gives my balls a hard squeeze then and I make a screech similar to the one Vinnie made when I squeezed his nuts. "Just returning the favor, Dylan," he mutters with a grin and a giggle. That has Dodger smiling and chuckling too, "Okay, let's try it," he says. "I'll sacrifice my ass to complete our mission," He leans over supporting himself on the pingpong table as Vinnie puts lube on his anus, and his slippery finger goes up Dodger' ass. When that's done Vinnie and I try getting our cocks up Dodger's ass first, and he wins. Vinnie probably doesn't get a chance to fuck Dodger too often, so he deserves the chance. Come to think of it, I've never fucked Dodger even once myself. Vinnie's got a grip on Dodger's hips and he's really plowing his hole. It's hot seeing this and I'm stroking my boner as I watch. Dodger grunts, "Jesus, that feels good, Vinnie, but try for the double-cock fuck before I blow another load. You fuck good, Vinnie." He sounds surprised about that, so maybe Vinnie's never fucked Dodger before. He has now though. I get my arm around Vinnie waist to hold us together and he leans away from Dodger a little. In this position I can easily get my six inch rod next to Dodger's anus and Vinnie's cock, which is already up Dodger's ass about three inches. I push in next to Vinnie's cock and man is that a hot feeling. Cock on cock in the asshole of a cute boy. Wow! I mutter, "This is so fuckin' hot, Dodger." He's groaning, "Go slow you two perverts." I wait to allow Dodger's anus and rectum to relax and accept the huge load, thinking how nice Vinnie's taut little body feels plastered next to mine. Vinnie mumbles to me, "Your dick feels smooth even though it's hard as stone." I squeeze him with my arm around his waist, mumbling, "Your's too, Vinnie." He grins as Dodger says, "Okay, enough of the mutual admiration society, push in a little more. We will succeed, gentlemen!" I chuckle, and push in another inch. Dodger yells, "Ow! Motherfuckers!" and all three of us laugh. Vinnie leans over and kisses near my mouth, muttering, "This is such a turn-on for me..." I grin, sweat forming between Vinnie and me, and say, "Ya think?" He smiles and I squeeze his side again and push in another inch which gets a controlled, "Ow, wait a fuckin' minute," from Dodger. Vinnie has his arm around me too now, I say to him, "Intimate, ain't it?" He nods his head and then leans in towards me and we do a real nice wet kiss making a smacking sound when our lips separate. Dodger screams, "Are you two perverts making out?" Vinnie goes, "Yeah, we are. Should we stop?" Dodger laughs, "No, go ahead and do whatever you want, just get this fuck going." Vinnie rambles on, "I wasn't feeling totally comfortable with Dylan this morning, but I am now." Dodger grunts, sarcastically saying, "Ah, that's sweet." It's got to be hurting him, two good size cocks at least three inches up his ass has got to be approaching the elasticity limits of his asshole.
Dodger's being a damn good sport about this so I push my cock in further, but it's really tight against Dodger's dangerously stretched anus and I can feel Vinnie's awesome boner actually increasing in girth. Incredibly sexy situation! I say to Vinnie, "Lets try withdrawing together and then see if we can push in further than we are now. He bobs his head quickly and, holding onto each other, we try moving our cocks back out as if they were one. It works okay and again I'm amazed how much Dodger's asshole opens to accommodate this large intrusion. We push back in together, withdraw and do it again getting our cocks even further up Dodger's ass. There's lots of lube and with Dodger's rectum opened up good for us we get into a rhythm and carefully stay together fucking Dodger's ass with double cocks. I'm telling you, having Vinnie's boner rubbing mine, with Dodger's anus and rectum doing the same, it's double your pleasure. Dodger's groaning, but that changes to moans of pleasure. Not just from Dodger, but from all three us as the sensations grow and grow. I don't know how long we've were doing it, maybe a total of ten minutes with no one talking, just making the regular pleasure sounds you make while fucking. Vinnie's and my boners are squished together in Dodger's ass and our bodies are squashed together almost as tightly; our bodies are basically glued together as we fuck as one. Dodger finally moans, "Fuck, this feels good, but the sexiest part is knowing you both have your cocks inside me at the same time... I'm gonna cum any second now." Then Vinnie squeals and I feel his cum all around the head of my cock. This is so fucking sexy I grunt and blow a short burst of creamy spunk in with Vinnie's, then we're squeezing our bodies together even tighter, getting our boners further up Dodger's ass with each thrust and we both spurt out another small shot of cum. Small in volume, but large in sensations. Not like the gushing cum of earlier fucks, but damn good and my shoulders shudder along with Vinnie's. "You boys spermed up my ass, I can feel the extra goo. I'm almost there." And more moans from Dodger follow as he's now pushing his ass back at our continuing thrusts. Vinnie and I are both breathing hard and then a strangled grunt and, "Ohh, fucks," from Dodger as his hips jerk and cum splatters on the leg of the pingpong table. Then another hip thrust and more of Dodger's cum splatters on the indoor/outdoor carpet. We fuck for another thirty seconds, but we've had it by now and without communicating with each other, Vinnie and I pull out together. For some reason we embrace, like we just won some sort of team competition. A quick kiss on the lips snaps us out of it and we let go of each other and bend over with our hands on our knees catching our breath. Dodge's ass is open freakishly wide and Vinnie points to it, looking at me grinning. He says, "Ewww, that might never close up," and we put our arms over each other's shoulders laughing. I go, "Ewww," and Dodger's like, "What the fuck are you two nincompoops laughing at now?" He turns around pulling on his cock, saying, "Victory! We've accomplished the two-boner fuck and I'm the hero for donating my asshole to the project. Let's see, it's Saturday, so by Wednesday my ass will probably be closed to its normal condition." Vinnie says, "Ya better give it until Thursday, Dodger." We all laugh at that although it's not that funny. Not that funny, but a lot of fun. We've had a damn good three-way and to say I'm sexually satisfied after today's marathon fucking would be an understatement.
We clean up the spunk on the floor and the leg of the pingpong table, then take another shower with Vinnie and me giving Dodger the hero treatment I got earlier. We shampoo, wash, and dry him, and then shower ourselves. Clean and dressed again we go into the main house where Dodger puts all the towels and clothes we used today in the washing machine. After that we play Xbox 720 in the family room and that's what we're innocently doing when Dodger's folks get back from the Home Show. "Hi boys!" from Mrs. Dickers, then, "So nice to see you again, Dylan." She rubs my head, smiling, "Now I understand why Dodger has that haircut of his. You boys look sharp." Dodger and I roll our eyes at each other. He mouths the word, "Sharp." Mrs. Dickers says hi to Vinnie too, but she sees a lot more of him than she sees of me so it's almost routine, like she's saying hi to one of her kids. She's nice enough, sometimes a little too much because she has a tendency to go overboard, but she's fine. Mr. Dickers comes in from the garage giving us all a greeting in his too-loud way, then he says to me, "I hear you'll be working on Robby's grass cutting crew again this summer, Dylan. Glad to have you aboard, son." I mumble, "Thanks, Mr. Dickers, thanks for hiring me again." He says, "It's Robby who's doing the hiring and firing for his crew this year. Well, him and Chuck Tannum, who'll be Robby's boss. He's a stickler for details, Chuck is. Word to the wise, don't be late for work! I leave that concern to Chuck though." Dodger says, "Dad, I'm on Robby's crew too." Mr. Dicker squeezes Dodger's shoulder, saying, "Now Dodger, that's not finalized yet." Dodger goes, "Yep, it is. Robby called Mr. Tannum last weekend and he gave his okay. I'm on the job this summer. Big bucks for this kid." His dad chuckles, mumbling, "There's no grass growing under your feet, Dodger... no pun intended." I decide that it's time to go, adults make me tired sometimes. But, Mrs. Dickers comes in with a plate of brownies. Oh brother, how corny! What are we, ten years old? What the hell, I eat three big brownies so as not to hurt her feelings; Dodger and Vinnie eat four each, finishing the plate. She asks, "What have you boys been up to today?" Dodger says, "Dylan was helping me with a project, and Vinnie watched. You know Vinnie, he follows me around like a puppy." Vinnie goes, "I do not! You called me to come over, Dodger." Mrs. Dicker's is probably used to them bickering, she ignores that and wants to know, "Dodger, were you and Dylan working on a school project?" Dodger goes, "I'm getting a headache, mom! Why the third degree?" She says, "I'm interested in you, Dodger." He goes, "I know mom, you're the best." She smiles, forgetting about her question, "I should have had girls," she mutters, patting Dodger's cheek. He goes, "Mommmm!"
When Mrs. Dickers is in the kitchen, I ask Dodger, "How 'bout a ride home... it's been a day to remember, but I'm worn out." Dodger gets up, saying, "You're getting too old to keep up with Vinnie and me, that's all. Come on Vinnie, ride along with us. You can keep me company on the way back and maybe I'll give ya a quickie in the pickup." Vinnie's like, "Really, Dodger?" Dodger goes, "Yeah, well at least some of what I just said I meant." We walk through the kitchen on our way out. Dodger's folks are drinking adult beverages discussing their day's successes. We say our goodbyes and thank Mrs. Dickers for the brownies and then we're outside lighting cigarettes. We smoke the cigarettes with Dodger's pickup blocking the view from the house, with Vinnie babbling on about that puppy dog comment of Dodger's. Dodger finally says, "Okay, Vinnie, you're not following me around like a puppy dog, it was a fuckin' joke, dude. Who loves ya?" Vinnie's frowning, looking hurt, then he leans into Dodger for a one arm hug. "He's sensitive, Dylan," says Dodger, with smoke drifting from his nose, "A sensitive kid, but awesome too! Right, Vinnie?" Vinnie gives a begrudging grin, muttering, "You're friggin' right about that, Dodger." Then Dodger takes a drag, still hugging Vinnie around the neck with one arm. He says, "I'm thinking of getting a dog collar for my boy here, do you have any suggestions, Dylan?" I go, "Better get a choker collar, Dodger... that's my suggestion." Vinnie goes, "I'm not even listening to you assholes." Dodger and I exchange smirks, then Dodger kisses Vinnie's head mumbling, "Don't worry, Vinnie, it definitely won't be a choker collar." Vinnie makes a face, "I hear nothing." I go, "It's been quite a Saturday, one I won't forget for days." We step on our cigarette butts and get into the pickup. On the way to my place Dodger runs through a minute by minute description of what it's like being fucked by two boners at the same time, making it funny as hell. Pulling over at the curb below my condo, he says, "My asshole is still so wide open I could fit a can of Coke up there." Vinnie asks, "Can I see it Dodger, your wide open asshole, not you putting a can of Coke in your hole?" Dodger mutters, "Probably not, Vinnie. More like I'll be seeing your asshole as I push my dick in it." Vinnie goes, "That's good by me too." We bump fists saying, "Catch ya down the road, toad!" And that's it. It's like that with buddy sex... no sleep overs or lovey/dovey stuff when it's over. It's just, "Check ya out later, dude," and you go on your way. Not a bad thing, actually.
Saturday night at eleven o'clock and I'm safely home, pretty much sexually satisfied, totally sober, and tired. None of these are bad things either. I said I'm pretty much sexually satisfied instead of totally satisfied because there was no love and very little dominance involved in the sex. Dodger's bossy, but he's also funny and basically a sweet kid. So it looks like I find myself in this condition where only Robby can totally sexually satisfy me; we're in love and that's what does it for me. Now I must admit that there's another way I can be totally sexually satisfied and that's by an extremely, but safe, dominant sex partner. I wonder who that might be, haha. Well, Willie is the only one who can do it for me, but it seems it only works in short spurts. I quickly revert back to loving sex with my true love Robby the minute I'm reunited with him, which is the reason I'm going to stay with Robby a long, long time. But, the big 'but' comes into play when I need to admit to myself I'm kinda looking forward to a day or two of Willie's kind of dominant sex too. Like I said to myself in Key West, it's the thrill ride of sexual endeavors for me. Most guys probably can't fathom why it's so hot, so thrilling, but that's because they can't get into a submissive role like I can. Actually, I can't get into it by myself, I need someone I like to be just the right kind of dominant for me to experience total submissiveness. Everyone's different I would imagine, and it was a thousand to one shot that I met Willie, but I like him a lot and I love me a little of his kind of sex occasionally. Of course it's a mute point if he's no longer interested in me, although I can't imagine that to be the case. I'm not bragging or conceited about that; it's just that he couldn't fake his affection for me unless he's an Academy Award-winning actor. Wonder why he hasn't called? It's been a week, over a week actually. Thankfully I've grown enough and managed to mature enough that there'll be none of the nagging for sex to Willie that I did with fat Carl. I was just a kid then and had just discovered gay sex. But if Willie calls, and I'm sure he will, I'm ready for a ride on that roller coaster for a night or two. Especially since Robby's been injured and I've had no loving sex in days. I might be thinking differently if Robby and I were still rockin' our form of sex together, but that's not the case at the moment.
I get undressed and use the bathroom, take a pee and brush my teeth. Just had a shower a couple hours ago so no need for another one. I wonder if Chubby's home yet. At eleven o'clock! Get real, Dylan, he's never home this early on a Saturday night. We'll fix Sunday brunch together tomorrow morning though, and then maybe we can spend the rest of the day hanging out together. That'd be nice. In bed I yawn, then think back on this day of recreational buddy sex I've just enjoyed. It was so hot with those two and it'll be fun telling Robby about it and hearing the version Dodger tells him... haha. Hey, did Robby text me? I get out of bed and dig my cell phone from the pocket of my sweatpants and see two texts from Robby. His text: "We won the game. Hope you had a nice time with Dodger, can't wait to hear about it. Love you! Robby" Nice! Then three other texts: one from Connor, one from Chubby, and one from my mom... they all basically said "Hi, love ya." That's what it boils down to; it's nice being remembered so I feel good about that. The last text is another one from Robby that was sent a half hour ago, it reads: ''Hahahaha! Dodger texted me the details of his and Vinnie's 'double fuck of your ass'. That should hold ya until my shoulder heals. Love you and miss you! Robby" Well, it wasn't quite a double fuck of my ass, but that's the way Dodger probably has it fixed in his mind by now, heehee. Kind of awkward explaining to Robby that Dodger wasn't able to perform in his attempt to do the double fuck on me because if I tell Robby that Dodger's dick was too short, it'll seem like I'm dissing on four inch dicks, and Robby happens to have one himself. That fuckin' Dodger though... in his mind he probably believes it went the way he described to his brother; Vinnie's probably been brainwashed into thinking that too by now. Haha. The double fuck was volcanically HOT! Vinnie's boner squashed against mine up Dodger's stretched ass... oh man! I text everyone back with short messages that say basically: 'I miss and love you too, except I leave out the 'love' word in mt text to Connor because I don't want to mislead him.
With that taken care of I turn out the light and get ready for sleep. I'm feeling good... tired, happy, and good. I fall asleep, but don't know for how long because someone lands on top of me, yelling,"You're not asleep already, are you?" It's Chubby, of course. He didn't turn the light on, but I'd recognize him under any circumstances, even waking from a sound sleep in the middle of the night with no lights on. I mumble, "Chubby, what the fuck?" as I get an arm around him. He's fully dressed laying on top of me breathing his beer breath in my face, saying, "I ran into a couple of guys after work and we had a little beer party at Travis' place. No liquor involved, thank God! I wouldn't want a repeat of last Saturday night, fer sure!" I go, "Or last Sunday either." He goes, "Yeah, that's what I meant 'cause Saturday night was cool, but the hangover Sunday was a humongous bitch to deal with." I ask, "Why are you here, and what time is it?" He's rubbing my head with both hands, a massage type thing, muttering, "Why am I here? What the fuck kind of question is that?" I go, "You just answered my question with two questions of your own. That's not actually telling me anything." Chubby kisses my forehead, laying fully on me, chest to chest, his face six inches from mine, and if I hadn't had at least three great climaxes today I'd probably be sprouting a nice boner about now. Chubby says, "Details, you're always concerned with details." I chuckle, then say, "Would you please, for the love of God, brush your teeth." He jumps up, tons of energy like usual, saying, "Right away, Dylan, anything for my favorite person on this particular planet." He bumps into the night stand, muttering, "Don't ya ever turn the lights on around here?" He's a little drunk, but nothing like last Saturday night. I turn on the night stand light and look at the alarm clock there: it's two-o-five. Chubby goes, "Ah, and then there was light," as he goes into my bathroom, leaving the door open as usual, and I hear his piss hit the toilet water. He pisses for like forever, going, "Ahhhh, relief!" Beer pisses can go on for quite awhile because when you get into drinking beer and BS'ing with friends you don't think to take a piss until you're halfway between this place and that one, and ya got no place to pee. After the long pee I hear my electric toothbrush go on, then later a lot of gargling, then a lot of water splashing so I guess he's washing his hands and face. I'd have done the hand washing before brushing my teeth, but that's just me.
Finished cleaning up, Chubby comes back to the bedroom taking off his shirt, "I'm sleeping with you again, Dylan, but none of what happened the last time. Okay?" I go, "Absolutely!" Then, "To what do I owe this honor?" He steps out of his sneakers and takes down his sweatpants, throwing everything on the floor, muttering, "I miss ya, that's why, ya nut. Why else would I sleep with you?" He always makes me smile. Not that he's especially funny all the time, although he can be; it's just being with him that makes me smile, and the way he's so sure of himself, or at least gives the appearance of being sure of himself. I love sleeping with Chubby anytime, it makes me feel good... I feel complete when we sleep together, and I say that even though I know he won't be doing anything particularly sexy. It's too soon after my reunion sleep-over with him, but because this is the second time in two weeks he's initiated a sleep-over on his own, I take that as an encouraging sign. An encouraging 'sign' of what I don't exactly know, but it's encouraging all the same. The eternal optimist, that's me. Stripped down to his boxer shorts, Chubby's hopping on one foot pulling off his sock, muttering, "There's gotta be a smarter way to do this..." The sock comes off and he throws it near where he threw his sweatpants, then the other sock gets thrown in the same direction and now he's back on two feet holding his arms up like he accomplished something difficult. He goes, "Success!" His body is almost perfect! Every part of him perfectly in proportion to his five foot-seven inches. At least he claims he's five-seven, I always thought it was more like five-six, but why quibble over an inch. I can't see it at the moment, but I happen to know that his dick is over four inches long, but not by much, so he'd probably exchange the inch in height for another inch on his dick. That's just a guess on my part because, unlike Dodger's frequent lament about his four-inch dick, Chubby's never mentions his. Maybe he's convinced himself it's longer, like he has with his height.
I throw back the covers, saying, "Okay, you've managed to get undressed, now get in bed so we can get some sleep." He takes two big steps towards the bed and launches himself at me landing half on and half off me. I chuckle, pull the covers over us and click off the light. Chubby rustles around getting comfortable, taking most of my pillow and about sixty percent of my twin bed. "Comfy?" I ask sarcastically. He laughs and says, "Can you give me a little more room so I can spread out? I like spreading out when I sleep." I go, "That's a big fat 'NO!'" and I get him in my arms, which is what I think he wanted, and he reshuffles around getting comfortably against my body, mumbling, "Oh, this'll work too," then he kisses my cheek muttering, "I love me some Dylan," I go, "Right back at ya, dude," and kiss him on the lips, "He goes, "Dylaaan!!!" stretching out my name as a protest to my kiss. I kiss him again and he does an exasperated, noisy exhale, asking, "You done now?" I go, "For the moment, bro," and rub his hair, loving the feel of him against me. "Sleep" is the last thing I hear from him; I already said my last thing, and we go to sleep like this... nice!
The sunlight through my bedroom window is very bright when I open my eyes and glance at the alarm clock on the night stand. It's almost ten o'clock, but it's a Sunday morning so there's no reason to get up yet. Chubby's making deep-sleep breathing sounds and I get a chance to stare at my favorite face. Chubby's another one of those boys with long, curvy eyelashes, not the type a girl would want, but the type that I think looks sexy on a boy. I have them too. Ah ha! Another thing Chubby and I have in common. Our noses and our eyelashes and our bodies, hmmmm? Curiouser and curiouser. Robby started me noticing the similarities in Chubby's and my looks by mentioning our noses. Actually he said something about 'seeing things in my face when he looks at Chubby's'. Chubby and I have very different coloring though; he's got a pale tannish complection with brown hair and bright brown eyes, like his mom actually. I've got blond hair, when I have hair that is, and blue eyes that I've heard are sexy, but I don't know why. I think Chubby's adorable looking and apparently the girls agree with me. They've always been interested in Chubby and I'm not sure if it's just his looks or if it's his A+ personality. He didn't start dating until ten or eleven months ago, but he's always appeared to enjoy girls' company, where I can't say the same for myself. Not that I have anything against girls, I just don't want to have much bodily contact with them, and the exception to that is my mom and Tris. They're awesome older girls; both thirty-six or thirty-seven years old. Having babies when you're seventeen means you get to have nineteen year old children at a relatively young age. I wonder how they feel about being that old? Do they still think the same things they thought when they were nineteen? That's a scary thought because that means they're thinking about having sex... ooooh boy, I'm not going there. The thought of those two with men, naked in bed... oh my God, say it ain't so!
Chubby groans in his sleep and gropes his junk under the cover, then rolls over against me. He'd rolled just a little away from me during the night at some point. I run my fingers through his soft hair, then feel the half inch hairs at the crown of his head and smile remembering when I cut it for him this way. I did it because of times like this when I can run my fingers over the hairs, so nice. And his haircut looks good too, and I'm glad that I can to do that for him. I like doing anything that involves Chubby. His skin is so smooth and youthful looking. If I look closely I can just make out the few pale freckles across the bridge of his nose that were more noticeable when we were kids. God, I love this boy! A life time full of awesome memories of uncountable wonderful things we've done together growing up. Leaning close to his head I inhale the Chubby aroma, it's so sexy to me. I'm not going to pester him for anything sexy when he wakes up though; no, I won't do that and maybe he'll share my twin bed with me more often. Anyway, I was involved in three hot fucks just yesterday and while they weren't with Robby, they still register in my brain and I'm simply not horny at the moment. Of course I wasn't particularly horny a week ago last Saturday morning either, but I sure enjoyed Chubby's rare sexual treat for my homecoming. I need to go away more often 'cause the homecoming I received after Key West was something really special! From both Robby and Chubby, not to mention Dodger's haircut fuck... haha. Damn! Life is real good right now. Speaking of Key West, where the fuck is that call from Willie? No text, no nothing. I'm going to text him soon, he didn't say not to text, did he? I don't think so. Oh well, I got Chubby sleeping with me so to hell with Willie. I can't resist giving Chubby a light kiss on his lips, very light so not to wake him, and that's what I do. Awesome lips on that boy, fabulous lips for kissing; especially when he can't pull his head away. Mmmm, a nice gentle kiss that no one sees. I couldn't help doing that because I love him, and I'm gay, and I got no fuckin' willpower to speak of.
The longer I watch Chubby sleep, the more the need to touch, and while I'm rubbing the palm of my hand over his nicely formed arms he wakes up without opening his eyes. "Is that you, Mary Jo?" he asks, trying not to grin. "Gawd forbid!" I mutter, then kiss his forehead figuring I better get my kisses in while I can. He says, "Dammit! It's you, Dylan," and he opens his bright eyes with a smile on his lips, and goes, "Thank God it's you," and he actually kisses my lips, saying, "That'll be the extent of intimate contact between the two of us this fine morning. What the fuck time is it anyway?" I go, "Who cares," and start wrestling with him. I get some nice body contact and experience lots of Chubby's personal scent, but it doesn't last long. He worms his way out of bed, saying, "I got the shower first," as he walks to the bathroom, adding, "Can ya dig up something for me to wear, Dylan?" I yell after him, "The jockey shorts I wore yesterday are around here someplace." He does a phony laugh, "Hardy, har, har, har," and turns the shower on. I get up and dress in clean sweat pants and a T-shirt, no need for a shower since I had two at Dodger's yesterday. All my sweat pants are too long for Chubby, but so are his; they come in the same length no matter the waist size, which seems stupid. We both wear twenty-nine inch waist; twenty-eight would probably be better except we wear them low even though that makes the pant legs even longer for Chubby. I only have one pair of sweat pants left here at home, they're blue with a white stripe down the side of each leg. Clean boxers and socks, Chubby's own socks as a matter of fact. The pair I stole from him last week, heehee. A gray sweatshirt with "WILDWOOD" written across the chest should work. Taking all these things I pile them on my desk, yelling into the shower, "The clothes are on my desk, Chubby!" then make the bed and wander into the kitchen thinking, 'orange juice'. Drinking from the quart bottle of orange juice, I'm thinking, 'Mom won't get up until eleven at least, she was out later than Chubby.'
Checking the vegetable bin for fruit, I'm surprised to find a quart of strawberries, two bananas, a Jazz apple, a small plastic container of blueberries, and a nice slice of watermelon. Fresh fruit is awesome at breakfast. Taking everything out of the refrigerator I cut it into bite-size pieces, except the blueberries, then scrape it all into a white bowl and mix it up. Looks damn refreshing and yummy. Chubby comes out all bright and shiny clean, big smile on his face, asking, "Whadda we got for this morning's brunch?" I show him the bowl of fresh fruit and he takes the plastic wrap off and starts popping pieces in his mouth. I grab the bowl and recover it, putting it back in the refrigerator, "It's for fuckin' brunch!" Then I say, "I'm going in the bathroom to brush my teeth. You check out the refrigerator to see what's there that we can make for brunch this morning." Chubby salutes, going, "Aye aye, captain," and I leave him at it. When I get back Chubby's assembled eggs, Candian bacon, and blueberry muffin mix. I go, "Scrambled eggs fer sure. Do we have any cheese?" and Chubby holds up a block of cheddar. "Awesome," I mutter, then, "What do you want to do?" Chubby says, "I'll whip up the muffin mix while you're breaking the eggs into a bowl and beating the shit out of them so I don't get any yucky white pieces in my scrambled eggs." I ask, "Any potatoes for home fries?" Chubby says, "Good idea," and searches for that stuff, coming up with some Red Bliss potatoes, a sweet onion and the other half of the green pepper Connor and I used last week. It's still crisp. We get to work, with Chubby getting the muffin mix whipped up and into cupcake molds, while I do the eggs in a bowl and whip them with a wire whip until no whites are showing, then add grated cheddar cheese. We slice the block of Canadian bacon and peel potatoes, then Chubby says, "How 'bout hash browns today?" I nod my head, "Great idea, Emeril. You're in charge." He begins slicing the potatoes thin then cuts the slices into thin strips, matchstick size, and cuts those again as I'm doing the same with an onion and green pepper. "Just flakes of onion and green peppers in with the hash browns; kick it up a notch," says Chubby. I mumble, "Ya got that right, Emeril." The oven's preheated so Chubby puts the muffins in, everything else goes in the refrigerator, and we take off for Dunkin' Donuts for coffee. I go, "We should get a Keurig coffee maker like we have at college." Chubby says, "We'd need to get each mom one, that's over three hundred dollars." I'm like, "Forget I mentioned it in that case. We'll buy them Dunkin' Donut coffees, it's cheaper."
I'm driving our Jeep, as Chubby says, "I got no hangover this morning, aren't you proud of me?" I mutter, "Very. Are you gonna hangout with me today?" He says, "Absolutely! Whaddaya wanna do?" I say, "How 'bout we do our run in Parker's Park, like we used to do?" Chubby says, "That should be interesting, we're in such great shape." I go, "We used to be!" and we make a bet about which one of us runs the longest, a five dollar bet. I already know I'm going to lose because Chubby will not lose five dollars; he'll die of heat exhaustion first, although it's only about sixty degrees so there's probably little chance of that. After our run we'll decide what we want to do next. We don't see anyone we know in Dunkin' Donuts so we're in and out pretty quickly, and when we get back to the condo, Tris and my mom are sitting at the breakfast bar talking. The first thing they say is, "Here comes the two best looking boys in the state of Massachusetts." Chubby gives his mom a kiss, saying, "I believe that's the whole east coast, not just Massachusetts." I kiss my mom and then Tris, asking them about their night and, as they drink their coffee and we get back to fixing the brunch, they tell us what they think is a hilarious time they had at some lounge with their boyfriends. They breakup laughing while taking turns telling the story as Chubby and I exchange glances like, "This is funny?" but we force some chuckles just the same. Mom thinks her boyfriend is very funny and maybe he is, but the retelling loses a lot in translation if the guy actually is funny. Anyway, they're enjoying themselves and seem to have had a smashing good time last night. There's a galactic chasm between what thirty-something year old adults and nineteen year old college students think is funny. I'm sure what we think is funny would not amuse the moms at all, and actually would probably appall them. The exception to that are selective jokes, ones without curse words. I tell them one that Connor told us, the one where a guy loses five hundred dollars in one hand of poker and drops dead. One of the poker players has to inform the dead man's wife; the man tells her first that her husband lost five hundred dollars, and she says that the man should tell her husband he can drop dead for all she cares, and the man says "Okay, I'll tell him". They laughed, but I don't think they got it. Maybe jokes isn't the humor-bridge between generations after all.
The breakfast is excellent. Chubby and I each have two muffins and the mom's share one, and they both have a little of everything else, exclaiming how delicious it is. Chubby and I eat about three-quarters of everything we cooked. The biggest hit were the hash brown potatoes, which Chubby takes full credit for; not only for thinking of them, but for preparing them and frying them perfectly. Again, many compliment from the moms follow Chubby's bragging, then Tris says, "I loved your scrambled eggs too, Dylan. The cheese was the perfect thing to punch up the flavor". Everyone, even the moms, scarfed down the Canadian bacon which we basically just warm up in butter with a little brown sugar. Chubby and I insist on cleaning up after brunch and the moms go up to Tris' condo, probably to smoke on the balcony. We all pretend none of us smokes, except on rare occasions. Convenient for everyone. After cleaning up we tell the moms we're going to try our old run in Parker's Park. Then Chubby and me drive there, then walk for a while sharing two cigarettes and talking about the upcoming summer vacation, which we're both ready for, fer sure. Chubby and I never run in special running gear, just whatever we normally wear. I go, "There's the beginning of our trail. Think you can make it to the rest area at the halfway point?" He makes a face, muttering, "Do ya mean if I run backwards all the way? Of course I can make it." "Let's go then," I say, and we start jogging with me running behind Chubby like I always used did. That way I can look at him the whole way, which is what I do. It used to take us under an hour each way, we don't have anyway of telling how far it is. We've guessed it's anywhere from three miles each way, to six miles each way, which would be a mile every ten minutes. That pace is probably possible for two miles, but not five or six; we're not trained runners. We did the run almost everyday as kids because we thought it would keep us in good shape and it did give us some nice definition in our calf muscles. It's more fun to do the run in shorts, but we didn't think of that.
Halfway to the halfway point we're breathing hard. I say, "Lets smoke as we jog," kidding of course, and Chubby blurts out a laugh, saying, "God! Did someone extend this trail while we were away at college?" I go, "Ya wanna give up and lose the bet?" He's like, "That'll be the day!" By the time we make it to the halfway rest area we're doing a fast walk more than a jog, but neither of us mentions it. As we come around the big tree that blocks the view of the rest area I think of the marine I ran into way back when, and it hits me like a sledgehammer that the marine was my first real experience with being submissive. He kinda put me into the same kind of spell Willie does at times. Man! I haven't thought of that in a couple of years now. That marine was something, he jerked me off right over at that bench, and other places too. I'll be dammed! My dick moves remembering that. Chubby and I stop to catch our breath, "That was a piece of cake," Chubby mumbles, "I think I will run backwards on our way back; you try to keep up with me, okay?" Then three guys with running outfits come out of the restroom a hundred yards straight up from where we're standing. They look like college kids and two of them notice us. One of them taps the third guy on the shoulder nodding down at us and I get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I don't know why that is. Intuition?
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
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