DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION
Chapter 5
by Donny Mumford
Ryan and I had a nice dinner Thursday night in an actual restaurant for a change. We've been eating in diners and fast food joints until now. I ordered steak, baked potato with sour cream and butter, plus a really good salad that came with crusty hot rolls. Ryan had the special of the house, lemon sole. Jesus! Anyway, before dinner we checked into a Knight's Inn, which is a step up from the Days Inns and Motel 6 we've previously stayed at. This Knight Inn has a swimming pool so we had a swim, then after that it got a little awkward for awhile. We've both been, especially Ryan, a little testy due to lingering hangover affects from Tuesday night's debacle with shots and beers, bong pipe and joints. Basically we've been paying the price of that night ever since. Wednesday and today we've snapped at each other, and I guess I kind of dissed Ryan by not accepting his invitation for sex. Instead of sex I took a shower, then felt bad for Ryan and made-up with him. That naturally led to some hot make-up sex. And yeah, make-up sex is almost always really good with both guys doing their best to please the other. Ryan rebounded from his sulking by being an excellent dominant sex partner getting me into a very submissive mood by deep throated me roughly, and then fucking me awesomely. Quite a turn around actually. He was effectively dominant with the sex and it put me in a submissive frame of mind, and for awhile after the sex too. It felt fantastic from my point of view, and Ryan's been acting more confidently in-charge ever since. We're back to being loving friends and sex buddies, so that's nice. Well, there's a little wrinkle in the love aspect between us, but I think I straightened that out a few days ago and it hasn't come up since, mostly because I've been side-stepping any conversation remotely linked to the topic of 'love'. I'm in love, but certainly not with Ryan although he claims he is with me... that's the awkward part I mentioned.
Anyway, tomorrows Friday and we were originally scheduled to be at Ryan's house before lunch, but last night he told me we'll only get within a hundred miles of Marietta Friday, and then spend one more night in a motel rather than get to his place late Friday night. Okay, so now it'll be Saturday morning that I meet his parents. It'll be a challenge for me fitting in for ten weeks with that family, and maybe for them too, but hopefully I'm wrong. In any case I'm kinda nervous about it, and who wouldn't be nervous in my place? I've never once met his parents or even talked to them, and god only knows what Ryan's told them about me. He may have overstated any good points he thinks I have and I'll never be able to live up to those expectations. Or maybe his parents won't give a shit about me one way or the other, and that would be fine by me. Or, maybe Ryan's painted a realistic picture of me and I'll be pleasantly surprised that everything is cool and goes smoothly without anyone feeling uncomfortable. I'll start finding out Saturday morning one way or the other. My brother, Chubby, would have Mr. and Mrs. Wilcox charmed within an hour, but for me it isn't that easy, so we'll see.
We wake up around nine o'clock Friday morning, both of us feeling pretty good now that we're finally completely over our hangovers. After reasserting himself last night Ryan's in an especially good mood this morning. He says, "Lets get most of the bathroom stuff taken care of and then we'll get back in bed and discuss a few things. We'll shower later. You go first." So I get up and do my morning bathroom routine, thinking that 'showering later' means... after we have sex. Then, smelling of soap and toothpaste, I jump back in bed hovering over Ryan, grinning and expecting a kiss good morning at least. I get a quick kiss, then he gets up and goes in the bathroom. Well, frankly I'm not especially horny this morning, but I'm expecting a little sex anyway because it's what we do. When Ryan gets back in bed, he mumbles, "Lay there quietly for awhile, Dylan, I'm working something out in my head." Fine with me, all I'm basically responsible for is dealing with this apprehension I have about meeting his parents, and most of my apprehension has been created by Ryan because he make's such a big deal out of it. Maybe my
apprehension is warranted, but for now I'm just waiting for orders. After all Ryan's in-charge so let him figure it out. Closing my eyes and snuggling under the covers for awhile, I realize I'm probably not going to be able to go back to sleep, so I stare at Ryan thinking about how awesome he was last night in bed. Damn good sex as usual with him. Finally my curiosity gets the best of me and I ask, "What are we doing, Albert? What's the plan?" He goes, "Shh, I'm running over in my head the next twenty-four hours or so. I want so badly for everything to be perfect." What a nut-case. Nobody should need to be this concerned over introducing a good friend to their parents. I can't imagine anyone I know having this level of concern. Poor Ryan's had his brains scrambled somehow by someone.
Reaching over with a finger, I brush Ryan's bangs over and off his forehead. He smiles, then goes up on his side, saying, "Alright, babe, I gonna run over the rules with you again." Oh fuck, not again! So, with him looking down and me laying on my back all ears, he lists the rules for me again emphasizing the one about me calling him Albert, and I need to remember to say 'Yes sir' or 'yes ma'am' when talking with his parents, and for me to keep my mouth shut unless I'm spoken to. He highlights those points, then reiterates the other rules he's told me about previously. Then he goes, "Um, the most important thing to remember, and this is only for the first few days... um, well just do what I tell you to do, basically. We'll get in a routine after a few days and I won't need to tell you what to do because you'll know by then. That probably sounds awfully blunt and self-serving of me, and I'm sorry if it does, but trust me when I say everything will work out better if you do what I tell you. Mostly my number one concern is for you and my parents to get off on the right foot." I nod my head wondering about that again. Why is he so worried about his parents, especially because these are the parents who supposedly 'dote' on him. Still, I actually don't mind that Ryan's restating the rules he thinks are important because I'd like everything to go smoothly when we get there too. Then, unconsciously smelling the back of my hand I ask myself for the hundredth time, 'Why did I get myself into this?' Ryan's acting extra confident, as I mentioned, and being a tad bossy too, but that fits my mood, which is anything but confident. I'm certainly not confident about tomorrow morning. Like Robby, I used to be quite shy, and while we've both made a lot of progress in that area during the past three years, I'm feeling the tug of that shyness coming back as I anticipate the strange new world I'll be in. Ha!, talk about feeling powerless. The one power I have is the ability to get up and leave anytime I feel like it. That's pretty much the only thing I feel confident about, but it's no small thing and I need to remind myself of that. I don't have to do this if it get's unreasonable, although I'm concerned about Ryan if I do decide to bag the whole thing and go home. I'd sincerely like to help this kid get over whatever it is that makes him feel he's not worthy. His whole life appears to have been sad and lonely before college and he picked-up on that theme again last summer.
We're both sitting up in bed now with me dutifully looking at him and nodding my head that I understand what he's saying, although my minds been wandering a bit. Then he smiles and says, "Well, okay then, that's about all the nagging I have for you this morning." He flips the sheets off us and pulls his dick out through the slit in his boxer shorts wiggling it in his fingers. I'm still thinking about tomorrow as I look at him juggling his penis, not quite getting it. Oh, the lecture's over. Huh, I'm not always as attentive as I guess I should be, but I get it now. My clue was him pointing at his wobbly dick. Ryan wants his 'boy', and that'd be moi, sucking his cock. Slowly leaning over, lowering my head to his lap I rub my nose on his underpants enjoying his always special personal scent, the one that's almost like an aphrodisiac to me. After I inhale his scent deeply, Ryan feeds his soft penis into my mouth. I like sucking his cock, and especially the way he basically ordered me to blow him just now. It gets me feeling a little submissive right off the bat. Ryan rest his hand on my head, murmuring, "Give me
some good cock sucking, boy." When he calls me 'his boy' that connects with my submissive fetish and we're off to the races. I gulp, licking his cock while falling deeper into a submissive frame of mind as my cock's getting hard along with his. Wanting to please, I'm licking and sucking his cock for all I'm worth bobbing my head up and down on it with the hardening head bumping the gag reflect area of my throat every time I go down on it. When it's very hard I take his cock from my mouth, hold it in my fingers and lick it from his balls to the head, then over the head and down the other side. A murmured, "Good boy," from Ryan as he gives me a little condescending head rub, deepening my submissiveness as I'm drifting into an almost mindless dreamy trance. Somewhere in my brain I know he's playing the dominant role to the hilt, and doing it for the benefit of us both. We both like the sub/dom sex, so for now I pretend it's real dominance, not a game. I groan with the delicious feeling of being submissive to Ryan. The submissive sensation grows and grows as my cock gets harder and harder until it's almost painfully hard, the foreskin stretching to the max.
When his boner is dripping saliva, Ryan, in that hypnotic monotone way he talks at times, murmurs, "My balls now, boy, and get as close to my asshole as you can." With his long saliva-soaked boner against my cheek I begin licking his balls, then lifting them and licking under his scrotum trying to reach his asshole. Moving my head causes his wickedly hard boner to slide wetly across my face from my left cheek, over my nose, to the other cheek leaving a trail of my saliva in it's wake. I'm almost ready to blow my load when he pushes my head away, slides down to lay flat on the mattress with his knees up, saying, "My asshole now, boy." On my knees next to his legs I work his boxer shorts up and over his knees, then down to his ankles, and off. Pushing on his ankles lifts his bare ass up off the mattress. My nose presses next to the base of his wet scrotum and my tongue licks across his asshole a number of times hearing Ryan's moans of sexual arousal. Fast little licks over his anus and then my tongue's inside his rectum tasting acrid remnants of excrement. Just a remnant though as Ryan always has a fairly clean ass. After three or four penetrations with my tongue Ryan goes over on his side moaning, then breathing deeply he's holding up his hand to indicate he needs a break.
In my deep submissive trance my brain plays games with me by exaggerating Ryan's dominance and I snuggle again him thinking he's awesome. He puts his arm around me and we stay like this for a minute or so. Taking a deep breath, Ryan rolls me unto my back and straddles me with a knee on either side of my shoulders. I gaze up at him almost panting now as I take his hard cock in my fingers again and slide it into my mouth on my tongue. Ryan raises up and forward, then lowers his hips and begins deep throating me. He does it slowly and methodically on and off for five minutes. Each time his cock goes down my throat I'm positive this is the time I'll blow my load straight up in the air. Ryan's been moaning and breathing noisily for most of the past five minutes, finally muttering, "Last one, boy, suck it as it goes down your throat," and when it's halfway in I hump my hips, gagging and struggling as my cock spews a long string of cum with my body bucking, my face dark red. Then again as Ryan pulls his cock out looking a little scared at how violently I'm struggling and bucking my hips with another shot of cum flying from my boner. Holy shit, that orgasm was from outer space or something. I'm laying here shivering and shuddering at the after affects of that incredible climax. Ryan pulls his cock from my mouth with precum and saliva creating an unstable bridge between his cock's head and my lips. It pulls free of his cock and drops across my cheek as Ryan lays on me hugging me, kissing the side of my face. The strips of cum that shot out of my boner are on the lower part of the bed with me moving my legs trying to find a dry spot on the sheet, but spreading my cum around instead.
I'm still feeing some buzzing around my cock and balls when Ryan grins, asking, "How was that, Dylan?" My shoulders do one last shudder as I mumble, "Awesome, but scary at first. I thought something broke in my nuts or prostate or whatever. Wow, Ry.., um, Albert, that really rocked my world." I'm taking deep breaths gasping between every fourth word. Ryan's still laying on me looking a little smug, mumbling, "I think I may have mentioned to you that I'll take care of all your submissive needs, and now you see what I meant by that, eh?" I nod my head real fast, again getting mad at myself for doing that. I want to break that habit, but he was so awesomely dominant while deep throating me like that I couldn't help but do the submissive fast head nod demonstrating I'm enthusiastically agreeing with him.
After laying together for awhile we start doing some kissing, then deep open mouth kisses with lots of tongue and it becomes an incredibly hot make-out with our bodies sliding against one another ending with Ryan fucking another load out of me as he's filling me up to overflowing with his semen. It was so hot I think it surprised both of us. Whatever the summer turns out to be, it's looking like one hot sexy summer if nothing else. We grin at each other, Ryan showing his continuing dominance by pointing at his cock again making me get on my knees between his legs to suck his cock clean. Doing that I almost had my third boner in the last half hour. He really had me under his control there for awhile and I'm mooning after him like a dork, hanging onto him until he snaps at me, "Go in and take your shower now, Dylan. I'm gotta start packing my stuff." I muttered, "Yes, Albert," feeling dorky for saying that, but liking it too. I try maintaining my dreamy submissive trance but the shower chases it away and while drying I feel embarrassed for the way I was acting goofy and gooey about Ryan. When I come out of the bathroom drying myself Ryan smacks my bare ass, saying, "Get your shit together. We're leaving right after I take a quick shower." That rekindled a little fleeting submissiveness, but I can't keep it going for long.
While Ryan showers I load his satchel and my duffle bag into the Mini Cooper, then smoke a cigarette thinking about things in general. Yeah, I'm nervous about the parent thing, but most of that comes from Ryan overdoing his concerns about every-fuckin'-thing. It'd probably be better if he just let things play out naturally instead of his constant planning against something going wrong. I mean, his fathers a very successful businessman so he's gotta be within the normal range of behavior, and okay maybe his mother's a bit eccentric but she has a busy social life apparently so how eccentric could she be considering that? If she was a recluse or something then I'd really be concerned. As I'm trying to sort it all out in my mind, a nice looking guy in his twenties comes outside the hotel for a smoke. Good to know there are good looking young men in the South. Ha ha, and why wouldn't there be? We exchange head nods, but don't exchange any words, plus his eye contact was less than a second so it's almost guaranteed he's not gay. Back inside I take the elevator to our floor and see Ryan walking down the hall towards me carrying his toiletry kid. He says, "Hey, thanks for loading my satchel," and he puts his arm across my shoulders handing me his toiletry kit to carry. That's a cool dominant move on his part. Guess I better get used to, but on the plus side I'll probably be getting even more boners than usual reacting to little Ryan being dominant. At the car, Ryan says, "You drive. Find someplace for breakfast," and he hands me the Mini's computer key, saying, "We'll be driving eight or nine hours today, but tomorrow it'll be less than an hour's drive home." Still with the our home stuff, huh?
As I'm driving on this sunny day with the top down, I'm feeling pretty good and sexually satisfied. Then I spot a place claiming they've won awards for the best breakfast in the state. A dubious claim for this little breakfast/ lunch joint in a strip mall, but I park and we give it a try. As it turns out we're pleasantly surprised, well shocked actually, by the best egg and cheese omelets I can ever remember eating. Pure bright yellow omelet with no browning like too many cooks will do with omelets. They partially brown the omelet by cooking it too fast with the heat too high. We have some awesome corn muffins too, and delicious coffee. And it's cheap too! As with most of the meals we've recently had, something called 'grits' are included with breakfast whether you ask for them or not. I remember grits from our spring-break trip. They're sort of like a porridge, but don't taste like much of anything. Maybe the slightest corn taste, but only because Ryan told me
grits are ground corn. He says some people put butter, salt, and pepper on them and others add cheese. I've decided to pretend they're not there like Chubby and I do with vegetables when having a dinner at restaurants.
After an A+ breakfast I'm driving us to the highway, both of us totally hangover free and completely sexually satisfied, which are two major factors for having a good day. I find myself glancing at Ryan every now and then, like he's my hero, until he tells me, "I'm honored you're so into me now, Dylan, but keep you eyes on the road." Grinning, he adds, "If you're a good boy today I'll try duplicating this morning's sex after dinner tonight," and I get a partial stiffy in my pants hearing that. Maybe I won't need any side-sex in Marietta after all, not if Ryan can keep me sexual satisfied like this. He told me he would when we were planning this adventure, but I didn't actually totally believe him until now. Of course there may not be any opportunities for me to have side-sex in the first place, in which case I hope Ryan can keep this up. Truth is our sex has always been something special. Not lovers sex, but the next best thing. I give ninety percent of the credit for that to Ryan. I don't think anybody does 'dominant' as well as he does it. Of course there's the familiarity factor too, and the fact I've always had a mysterious sexual 'thing' for him. And it started right from the first time I met him. He really turns me on, sometimes he turns me on when he's not even trying. Our pheromones must be almost a perfect match. Anyway, I'm feeling good about things again and I've got some hope that everything's going to work out even better than I hoped it would. Of course my optimism is clouded at the moment by our recent awesome sex together and the excellent breakfast we just had, but in the back of mind lurks all my other concerns. Still, I'm enjoying this momentary peace of mind.
We finished breakfast a little after eleven o'clock and I've driven since then, and now I'm surprised to see it's a little after two o'clock. Those three hours really flew by, especially considering we've barely talked at all. The weather's very warm and we have the top down, so communicating means yelling, which neither of us does. We have our own thoughts, and mine are mostly about the increased heat I've been noticing during our sex. I'm a tad oversexed anyway, as has been well documented, so increased sexual heat is always appreciated. I've never considered being oversexed a problem at all. I consider it a blessing actually. Anyway, Ryan begins fiddling with his cellphone trying to locate a place we can stop for lunch, and a half hour later I park in front of a sub shop. During lunch in this fried food atmosphere, with the greasy fried onion smell being absorbed into our clothing, Ryan is very chatty and upbeat and that encourages me to think positive thoughts. He really should try being more positive all the time. He says, "We're getting close to home, babe, so you need to stay in the right frame of mind from now on." "What's the right frame of mind, Albert?" and I'm not being a smart ass here. I wanna try doing thing's Ryan's way because I'm almost completely dependent on him. He's the only person I know for eleven hundred miles. He says, "Like I said this morning, follow my rules and don't talk unless you're spoken to, and I know that's sounds like real old school, like back in the ninetieth century or something, but let me do the talking until you get the lay of the land. Also, you know, look up to me when in doubt, and do what I tell you. That's basically it. I hope my dad's impressed seeing the way you and me, two gay guys, act as normal as any straight guy he's ever seen. And, just because I'm gay it doesn't mean I can't be authoritative and in-charge." I'm like, "Sure, Ryan, we've been over this before, ya know, like a thousand times. Anyway I do look up to you, boss, I've told you that before. I admire you for surviving your childhood" He goes, "Thanks, but remember not to call me 'boss' at home. It sounds flip." I roll my
eyes and nod my head, "Okay, I won't," and he goes, "And you're doing good using my 'Albert' name. I'm proud of you." Crazy as it sounds that made me feel good, Ryan being proud of me. Oh man, I need to get a grip on myself... ha ha, but it's kind of fun.
We order cheese-steaks for lunch, then Ryan's like, "Neither of us have any stereotypical gay affectations, and thank god for that or the rents would
freak-out completely." I ask, "But they're okay with us being gay, right?" He shrugs, "I wouldn't say they're 'okay' with it exactly, but they're accepting that it's the reality of the situation." That's not reassuring at all! What the fuck happened to the positive outlook he started out a few minutes ago? He adds, "We're who we are, Dylan, and neither of us is ashamed of it. I'm proud you're my gay boyfriend, although sometimes I pinch myself to be sure I'm not dreaming." The food comes and the subs are only 'okay'. It's usually the roll that turns an otherwise good sub into either a mediocre one, or one that sucks. That's the case here, the roll are too soft to handle the hot meat and cheese, so these sub sandwiches suck, but we eat then without complaining too much. Then I'm kinda staring at Ryan as he finishes his cheese steak. He looks up with a little grin, some grease glistening at the corner of his mouth, "Ya know, like I said earlier, I can feel that you're really into me, Dylan, and I'm really thrilled about that. Keep it up, okay? And, um, please don't take offense if at times early on I'm being overly bossy about stuff. It's what we talked about the last two months, one of our objectives is me being dominantly in-charge so your submissive fetish is neutralized, and two, you dealing with new experiences on your own helps you gain maturity. Agreed?" Talk about beating a dead fucking horse, how many times is he going to go over this? I get it already, and while I'm liking the sound of it conceptually, it remains to be seen how it works out in reality. I admit that Ryan's pulling it off in an inoffensive way so far. Hell, he's almost being apologetic about it at times. At the same time he's still managing to put me in my place with the 'don't speak unless you're spoken to' and that kind of thing. He's making some sense too, but mostly right now I'm enjoying it as a sort of sub/dom game. I nod my head, "Yeah, I agree, Albert, you're the boss, although I won't call you that in your house." He goes, "It'll be your house too for the next ten weeks." I nod again, "Yes, it will."
We're quiet for a minute as I ogle a kid who's too young for me, but what a pretty teenage boy he is. On the other hand the kid he's with, who's wolfing down a hotdog, has a face only a mother could love assuming her eyesight is impaired. Damn though, the other kid has that indescribable sexiness going for him. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is but if he's gay he's gonna make a lot of gay boys smile. Hopefully horse face isn't gay, jesus, would that be a crime! Ryan interrupts my musings by touching my hand, smiling at me, and saying, "Damn, you're making me feel good, Dylan. I can't tell you how glad I am you'll be with me this summer! Lets not get in any more disagreements like we had after that visit with Parker and his brother." I go, "That was due to our hangovers more than anything else." He says, "Whatever the reason, no more of that. If something like that happens again remember I'm the one who will decide if you're out of line." Oh man, as fucked-up as that sounded my dick responded with a little wiggle hearing that absurd assumption. My god-dammed dick has a mind of it's own. This'll be so cool if he can pull it off long term. I beam at him for real, not putting him on. I think he's doing a good job of juggling being in-charge with being a friend, and without pissing me off too much. He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand again, "You'll do fine, Dylan, and we'll both be better for spending this summer together. A win/win situation." I don't know about that, but I'm always hopeful.
We split the cost of lunch with Ryan making sure he has the receipt. Outside lighting cigarettes we sit on a bench in the sun. Ryan holds out the receipt and the computer key for the Mini, saying, "Run this receipt over to the car, Dylan. Log it in on the front of the folder, then file it in chronological order inside the folder." I take the receipt and key looking at them as if I don't know what the fuck they are. Ryan's like, "Go ahead, do it now, Dylan, do what you're told." I make a snorting sound, almost a laugh, then nod at him and walk towards the Mini thinking, 'Get used to this. It's what he's been talking about at breakfast and again just now at lunch.' Okay, I can do this, and I jog the last twenty feet to the car where I log the receipt and keep it in date order, then jog back to Ryan. He smiles like I did okay, then says, "I'm giving you the receipt duty the rest of the way." I say, "Sure, Albert," and bite my bottom lip to keep from chuckling or grinning at him. Like I said, it's a fun game for now. Time will tell how long I continue thinking it's fun. As we finish smoking our cigarettes I scan the area for the pretty teen inside hoping he has an older brother. Ryan's saying something so I catch the last part of it, "... right through we could be home by about ten o'clock tonight." Yeah, I knew that because he said
it before, and we're not doing that. He continues with something, then, "... Cumming, Georgia, and staying at the Hampton Inn." He glances over at me with a little grin, "I'm expecting it'll be a couple levels up from our usual motels. Cumming is a town about a forty-five minute drive from Marietta. Because we left late again today we won't get there until about nine o'clock." I flick my cigarette butt sideways off Ryan's knee. He shakes his head and flicks his into the gutter. He's concerned about us being fresh and well rested when we meet his parents. He rubs my head telling me that Saturday morning is much better for meeting his folks than Friday, like his original plan, because both parents will be home Saturday.
Finishing our smokes we're walking to the car with Ryan saying, "I'll drive the next four hours and you finish today trip by driving to the hotel after that. We might get there by eight if we push it." He stops at a gas station and I fill the tank, get the receipt and log it in as Ryan drives us towards the interstate. After ten minutes, I lean over and ask loud enough for him to hear me over the traffic noise, "Can I text for awhile, Albert?" He turns towards me, "Yes, I won't hear you with the wind noise and all." I knew he wouldn't be able to hear me texting, but I got a buzz in my dick asking Ryan's permission. Ha ha, little things like that are fun for me. Most people haven't a clue about submissive fetishes, not anymore than I have a clue about leather fetishes or a million others. I text with the guys back home, and read the texts from guys who can text me back. I understand the boys on the lawn cutting crew can't text while working, but they'll see my text later. I write emails to Robby and Chubby, not mentioning in Robby's email the accident Danny had with the BIG mower earlier in the week, the one I learned about in Chubby's email. Mentioning it to Robby, who probably blames himself, would seem like I'm piling on, or rubbing it in both his and Danny's faces. I get some replies and a few unsolicited texts from ex-posse boys who found out I won't be home to give them haircuts this summer. I explain I'll be home at least one weekend, and then all of August. Texting and emailing are in many ways superior forms of communication as compared to a cellphone call. The text and email are to the point without the need for small talk. Of course hearing the voice of someone you love trumps the succinctness of text or email communication, so there's that.
When it's my turn to drive we put the top up and Ryan becomes very talkative, telling me about his past summers at home. Summer vacations from private prep schools, and then the last recent two summer breaks from college. Fortunately he skims over his lurid sexual adventures with dominant older guys, one of whom he drifted back to three summers in a row, the last three years of prep school. He concentrates on his parents taking him on two week vacations each summer. I can tell Ryan's trying to make these vacations very special, and they probably were for his parents, but they don't sound like much fun for Ryan. Sight seeing tours and trips to Paris with days spent in museums. Trips to spas where his father played golf and his mother shopped and had lunch with the wife of the childless couple who vacationed with them. What Ryan did all day and night he spoke of in vague terms. Vacations like that.
Other than those vacation trips he mostly just hung around the house or did the bidding of his dominant sex partner. Ryan vaguely alluded to his participation in various summer sports programs, but honestly it sounds like he's exaggerating these incidents or is outright lying about them. Making them up because he's embarrassed about his lonely existence. I don't get most of it because there's nothing so wrong with him that he wouldn't have at least one guy, one outcast nerd like himself, to hook up with. I don't means sexually, but just someone to hang-out with doing nothing. Two or three times at Merrimack, during nights we were drunk together, he told me about some of the abuse he was subjected to and I'm glad I don't need to hear any of that again, but the abuses sounded more believable than the sports activities he says he participated in. The thing that strikes me the most is the loneliness in his voice reciting abbreviated descriptions of what he did outside of school, whether it's truth or made-up lies. When he was in school, he's already told me he was considered one of the geek/dork population and endured daily bullying. His past has left him a little fucked-up, but mostly I'm surprised how normal he mostly seems. Hearing too much of his history at one sitting isn't healthy, it makes me very sad.
We get to the Hampton Inn at seven-thirty with Ryan saying, "I don't know how the fuck I miscalculated the driving time. We could be home by eight-fifteen if we continued on." The car's idling in front of the Inn, so I ask, "Do you want me to drive on, Albert? I'm fine driving another forty-five minutes." He taps his front teeth with his finger, then smells the back of his hand, thinking I guess. Then shakes his head, "Nah, I told them Saturday morning in my last text and they don't like surprises. Dylan, grab our bags and wait for me in the lobby. I'll park the car." That's a little odd since I'm in the driver's seat, but I get out and lug our stuff inside a fairly nice, although a slightly worn lobby, and wait for Ryan. He comes in carrying the receipts folder that he hands to me, and then we check in using both our debit cards. The receipt he hands to me too, and we carry our own baggage to the elevator. After going the wrong way in the hallway, we find our second floor room and I swipe the key-card and in we go. A queen size bed, and it, along with the rest of the other furnishing, carry through with the 'worn' theme I noticed in the lobby. At one time, like maybe twenty years ago, this was probably kind of a swanky hotel. It's in serious need of a facelift now though. Ryan says, "How about unpacking for me, Dylan. You know how I like to do it, spreading the items out in the drawers. I'll call for a late dinner reservation and then we'll have a swim. There's a nice pool out back." Okay, he's getting me used to taking orders, so I unpack his leather satchel distributing his clothes in the drawers of the desk, the way he does it. He goes, "Latest reservation I could get is nine-thirty, but that gives us almost two hours. Um, did you leave my bathing suit out?" I shake my head and open drawers until I find his Tommy Bahama swim trunks. Nice bathing suit! Then I get mine out of the duffle bag. It looks similar to Ryan's, but probably cost half as much. Maybe it's a knock off. I bought it on sale last year at Kohl's.
As he's taking off his clothes, Ryan asks, "Did you log in the hotel receipt yet?" I go, "Oh, I forget, but I'll do it now," and I do. Then I'm taking my clothes off with Ryan saying, "Get your barber clippers out," and I whine, "You just gave me a haircut Monday." He chuckles, "The clippers are for my beard. I want to look sharp tomorrow morning and I like the look of a half inch beard. That's the style you see on guys all the time now." Yeah, it is, but I go, "The clippers are at the bottom of my duffle bag." He gives me a 'look' and I shrug, then begin taking everything out with Ryan asking, "Why the fuck did you bring a duffle bag anyway?" I go, "Because Chubby took a lot of our stuff home with him that last Friday, and it's all I had left to use. Originally I used it to bring towels, my pillow, sheets, and stuff like that when we were moving into the apartment last fall." He mutters, "Well, that's simply poor planning, babe." I get the familiar urge to say, Fuck you,' . That's my immaturity showing it's ugly head again... he's right, it was poor planning on my part.
At this much larger pool than the last one, there are only four other people sitting here and they're all adults. There's an old couple on that side of the pool and a young couple on this side. The sun's still nice and it's very warm this far south. We put our towels on two of the chairs around the pool, as far away from the young couple as we can get, then jump into the pool. A minute later the old woman walks over and sits at the edge on the other side of the pool with her legs in the water. Her older, overweight husband, with thick shoulder length white hair on his head, and impossible long white hair all over his chest, shoulders, and stomach gets up and walks up beside the woman. He says something to her with a grumpy expression on his face, while she doesn't even look at him, just waves her hand dismissively, and the old man dives into the pool creating a cannonball type splash that pretty much soaks the woman. The old duffer's quite the gentleman. Swimming under water he comes up near where we're treading water, rubbing against my side as he comes up. I'm like horrified as I drift away from him. Gramps gives us a big smile showing mostly dark red gums with tiny little teeth sticking out below. He says, "Refreshing, huh, boys?" Jesus! I float away paddling with my hands, trying to do it slowly without being obvious or insulting. The old man's white chest hairs float in the water away from his body. Ghastly! I stare at him with a frown on my face, fascinated that Ryan's actually carrying on a conversation, telling this old coot our life's history. Swimming over to the side, I get out of the pool and after drying my face, light a cigarette and sit down checking- out the young couple. The woman, or girl, she looks about our age, is very cute and so is her boyfriend, or husband. The more I look at them talking and giggling at each other, the more I think they're twin brother and sister. Both have blond hair and the same nose and grin. Cute. Then they're joined by an older guy who isn't good looking at all. He makes me think of a trucker or motorcycle gang member. He pulls a chair over and says something to the twins that makes them all laugh. The new guy has many tattoos, and lots of curly dark hair fur on his body, and a bolt in his lower lip. He leans over to the boy-twin and bolt-lip gives him a ten second open mouth kiss with the twin sister watching and grinning. Huh. Ya never know.
Ryan comes over saying, "Thanks for leaving me stranded with old Martin there in the pool," and I'm like, "Oh, his name's Martin?" Ryan's like, "Yeah, he invited us to have dinner with him and his wife." I go, "Fuck that." And Ryan goes, "Yeah, I agree, but ya didn't have to leave me there with him." Looking at Ryan, I'm like, "Albert, I already know the parts of our life history that you were telling to him about, so I didn't need to hear it again." He sits down taking my cigarette from my fingers and drags off it, saying, "Yeah, I got kinda flustered and started babbling." I ask, "Why'd ya say anything. Just do like I did and agree the pool's refreshing, and swim away." He nods his head, "You're right," then nodding towards the younger group, he grins, mumbling, "Cute guy," and I tell him about bolt-lip kissing the cute guy. Ryan shakes his head like there's no accounting for some people taste in boyfriends. We're thirsty so Ryan sends me off with a few one dollar bills to find a Coke machine or something that sells drinks. I find one, but naturally I go all the way around the building to find it, when if I went left instead of right it would have been just around the corner. The cute twin guy is at the machine rocking it. He glances at me, saying, "The fucking thing ate my money, but no pop came out." Pop? Oh yeah, that's what they call soda in the South. I say, "Huh, you could tell the guy at the front desk," and he goes, real sarcastic like, "Gee, you must be related to Einstein to think of that so quickly." I mutter, "Fuck you," and elbow him out of the way to put my dollar in the slot. Out pops an orange pop, which is fine except I hit the Coke button. Cute guy says, "That's mine. I hit the orange pop button," and he grabs it before I know what's happening. He walk away saying, "Maybe you'll get your pop with the next dollar, Einstein." What an asshole! His bolt-lipped boyfriend is hideous, but just right for cutie boy. The next dollar does pop out a Coke, as does the next dollar. Mysterious.
Back at our chairs we drink our Cokes without me mentioning my run in with cute guy. I don't want Ryan pulling the protector role confronting the guy and winding-up in a fight ruining our night, and all for a fucking dollar. We talk about our sophomore year laughing at how stupid we were at certain times during the year. Then we have a long swim after white hairy chest and his bride leave the pool area. The cute guy and bolt-lip try attracting my attention by making a federal case out of drinking their orange pop, saying, so I can hear it, "Free pop tastes best," and the dumb-ass twin sister is smirking at me too. Fucking idiots, all three of them. First of all, the cute guy paid a dollar before I got there, so the orange pop wasn't free in the first place. Jesus, a couple of uncool assholes, three of them actually. Ryan's unaware anything's going on and I leave it at that. When we've had enough of the pool and the sun has set, we go up to our room for showers. Ryan wants me to go first and when I'm undressed he goes, 'Wait a sec, Dylan. Let me inspect you." He grinning, so I play along and stand at attention like I did Monday when Ryan was telling me the rules. He rubs his hands over my body, murmuring, "I've got myself a perfect boyfriend, body-wise," and then he rubs my head, muttering, "Getting a little furry on top," and I go, "No haircut, Ryan, pretty please. Your parents will think I'm some kind of skin head, an anti-American skin head." He goes, "Huh, I never thought of that, but look here... your pubes are getting scratchy. Take your razor in the shower with you and give yourself a close shave for your boyfriend, okay?" I go, "Sure, Albert," and he says, "First though, get the clippers and neaten-up my beard, such as it is," then he feels my cheek, chin, and upper lip, mumbling, "Nothing yet, huh?" I go, "Nope."
Bare ass naked, like my pervert so-called boyfriend probably planned, I use the trimmer clippers to cut his scraggly curly beard to a half inch, and then do some neatening-up without a guide on the trimmers. It takes a steady hand, which I have fortunately. When done we both think he looks really cool. I think he looks sexy as hell too and get my arm around the back of his neck for a sloppy wet kiss, then he smacks my bare ass with me yelping, more from not expecting it than anything else. "Get in and take your shower, babe, we're getting short on time." I do that and when shaving my pubic stubble I get a nice little submissive sense from doing what I'm told. Damn, it's so cool I'm sucking on my lips thinking about Ryan and me in bed after dinner. I hope we can sleep together all summer because I don't believe the sex Ryan brings to the table will ever get old. It's all about his scent, hard body, big cock and that dominant manner he does so easily and so well. Walking out of the bathroom drying myself, Ryan's like, "Oh good, that didn't take long, thanks, Dylan," and he takes his shower as I get dressed in shorts and short sleeved Polo shirt, then look at myself in the full length
mirror that's on the closet door. I don't want to be conceited, but I gotta say I look good, and even my haircut after five days looks okay. It's lost that stark bristly look it had just after it was cut. From the front it looks like a buzz cut, but from the side the severely short hairs cut way up the sides and back of my head differentiates this cut from a buzz cut. This is basic hung-ho marine haircut 101. That's what Ryan copied it from, and that's what it looks like.
After his shower Ryan comes out of the bathroom, saying, "Damn, you look good, Dylan. You're so fucking cute I could eat you up." I grin, muttering, "Huh, ya don't say? How about just blowing me instead?" and he laughs, then goes, "Ya know, under different circumstances I'd love to do that, but you know I've got the responsibility of satisfying your fetish." I'm sitting at the desk with my laptop, looking at my photos of Robby and me. As I click on another, I mumble, "I'm not going into that again. I don't need that kinda help, but you mean well, so thanks. Come over here and look at this pic." He comes over and stands next to me, his hand on my shoulder, as he bends down looking at a picture of the three of us... Robby, Ryan, and me. We're lifting weights, striped to just our shorts. I go, "Robby's the fabulous looking one, and we come in tied for second." He looks at me without saying anything for a few seconds, then he asks, "Um, are you serious? You think Rob's better looking than you in that picture?" Looking up at him, "Well, yeah, don't you." He shakes his head, then mutters, "No, because he's not. He's, um, handsome and that body is hot!" then exasperated he's like, "Fer chrissakes, look at you two, he's right next to you. You can't see how much cuter and better looking you are, especially in this picture? You don't see it?" I shake my head, "Um, no, but why are you getting worked up? It's doesn't really matter who's better looking." He raises his eyebrows making a face, then shakes his head muttering, "Whatever."
He rubs my head as I go to the next picture, one of just Ryan and me. I go, "Nice body, Albert!" And he points at me in the picture, mumbling, "Je-sus kee-ricest! My folks aren't going to believe how good looking my boyfriend is, especially when they see you in person. I can hardly believe it myself." I say, "Thanks, Albert, but you're awfully cute yourself." He goes, "In your eyes, baby. Only in your eyes ," I frown, "Are you serious? You're cute, boss. You really are, and don't let anyone tell you differently." He nods his head with half of a smile on his lips, and sounding a little choked-up, mutters, "That's really nice of you to say, Dylan." Closing the laptop and getting dressed, we go down in the elevator as I hold his hand, saying, "You're my man, Ryan, so you're supposed to hold my hand." He grins pulling his hand away, "Um, that's what I'd like to do, but I don't think the good folk down here in South are quite as open-minded about that sort of thing as they are in the liberal upper part of the east coast. We'll do without the hand holding in public." Yeah, fine, but Willie wouldn't have. I kinda agree with Ryan though because to flaunt it openly is too exhibitionistic for my liking. The dinner we have is barely average, but we eat it without complaining as the reality of meeting his parents are a mere twelve hours away now, so that's mostly on our minds. It makes me want to stick closer to Ryan then normal... he's my security blanket for this new world I'm a stranger in. Back safely in our room, after doing the bathroom stuff, we get in bed naked. Ryan wants to make-out, and he's a world class make-out artist and quite quickly he gets me moaning with a wickedly hard cock as our naked bodies squirm together on the bed.
With precum dripping from my boner I lay on my back with Ryan sitting on my chest, his boner resting on my chin. With his hand he pushes my forehead back lifting my chin and he deep throats me. Each time he pulls his cock from my throat, so I can breath, I suck and lick his cock for a bit, then, he lifts up and his big hard cock goes down my throat again. I'm so turned on my body never stops moving on the bed as my arms hug around his waist with Ryan getting extremely aroused and this time as his cock's pulling out of my throat his body shudders, then gets stiff with Ryan making a whining sound, his face scrunched up and he shoots a ginormous load of cum in my mouth gagging me momentarily. He shudders again with his cock pulling from my mouth and I get a stream of cum in my face as I'm swallowing the last of the first shot. Ryan's gasping and rolls off my chest onto his side. I scramble down the mattress taking his cock in my mouth just as a small shot of spunk
shoots out and then I suck some drools out. He lays there gasping, then murmuring, "Oh my god, that deep throating is unbelievable hot." I crawl up face to face with him, feeling horny because now I've got blue balls because I was just about to climax myself. When we're both calm we lay here caressing each other's body and swapping compliments like we're a mutual admiration society. Then we just hug each other with the sides of our faces together swaying slightly as if we're dancing to a very slow tune. I love his scent, and his newly barbered beard against my cheek, and the feel of his body.
We maybe lay together for an hour before starting little lip kisses and our make-out gets hotter and hotter. I get scrunched up on my knees with my forehead on the mattress and my arms around the front of my legs, almost like a ball with my bare ass sticking up for Ryan. He murmurs, "Even your pussy is pretty, baby." It's my fault he's saying 'pussy'. I introduced Willie's name for my ass and Ryan's picked-up on it, and now that's what he calls my ass. Things like that used to bother me, but now it's a merely a word, not implying anything when Ryan uses it. His hard cock pushes inside me with me holding my breath against the pain. Like last time he expects me to deal with it as he slowly but steadily pushes his eight inches of skin-over-bone all the way in until he's basically laying against my ass, his pubic hairs flat against my buttocks, pressed there between his belly and me. He moans quietly then leaves his boner impaling me as he humps against my buttocks, then swivels his hips to the degree he can. It ever so slightly moves his boner in my ass, stimulating my prostate which feels sort of like an itch that needs scratching. That goes for the length of his boner inside my rectum making me squirm my scrunched-up ball of a body. The head of my hard throbbing boner just pokes out between my calves, under my arms that are wrapped around my legs below my knees. When he starts fucking me, with each 'Slap' sound of his body smacking against my ass I go, "Ah!" And it gets fast and hard, "Slap, Ah! Slap, Ah! Slap, Ah! Slap, Ah!" for five fast deliciously sexually arousing minutes until I'm hyperventilating with my orgasm building to an almost painful degree. I get to whining with desire as my body shakes and shivers that go up and down my spine. Ryan's hard cock spreads the walls of my rectum while stimulating the lips of my stretched anus and it's all overwhelmingly so sexy I could cry with pleasure. "Slap, ah! slap, ah!, slap, ah!" My body continuing to shake with chills of sexual pleasure flying from my rectum, my balls are throbbingly hard and my cock quivering as the head swells and I squeal, humping forward with cum screaming out of my cock. My body slides forward on the mattress with my arms stretched out, still on my knees as another blast of cum shoots from my cock and so many sensations are spreading out from my ass and groin I think I might have actually passed out for a second or two.
Ryan's sort of holding me up on my knees with a strong grips at my hips as he grunts and continues fucking my ass. He climaxed an hour ago, so when he finally breaths noisily and then kind of squawks, humping desperately against by buttocks and shooting cum up my ass it's probably not nearly the volume he thinks it is... to him it probably felt like a river of cum. We're both shuddering for awhile laying next to each other stretched out on our stomachs breathing hard. Then some sighing as we find ourselves sexually satisfied again. After a deep breath, Ryan says, "Wow, this sex we're having is primo stuff, Dylan. Like our early days together, huh?" I nod my head, "Pretty much, but I don't think we'll ever reach that level of sexual heat again. We're moving past our prime years for sex. Past by a couple of years, maybe three." He snorts, then mumbles, "I don't think that's so. Not for us anyway." After a few minutes we stumble out of bed chuckling at each other's clumsiness and use the bathroom, cleaning up a little with Ryan saying, "Showers again tomorrow morning. We want to look sharp," and I fake seriousness asking, "Should I use deodorant tomorrow, Albert?" He doesn't get it as a joke, saying, "Definitely, Dylan! Jesus man, yes, deodorant tomorrow of all days." I go, "Mouthwash too I guess," and he gets that I'm putting him on. He chuckles, "You especially, don't forget the fucking mouthwash." I go, "Hey, I don't have halitosis!" He grins, hugging around my waist, "Nothing on you smells bad, Dylan. That wouldn't compute, dude."
We get in bed, "No talking, Dylan, we wanna be well rested." I don't know why we especially need to be well rested. Ryan's reunion at home should be a big hug and some kisses for their son, then an introduction between his parents and me with them saying nice things about how happy they are I'm spending most of the summer with Albert and how welcome I am. Then they go back to whatever they were doing and Ryan shows me all around the house. We get our bedroom set up and then maybe we'd check out the town. That's how a normal family would handle things. I don't expect that though. Ryan's too concerned about making a good impression for his parents to be what I'd call normal. Consequently I'm remaining docilely submissive and following Ryan lead assuming he knows best how to make this work. Anyway I'm enjoying our little sub/dom relationship and until further notice Ryan's my man. Well, at least until I'm comfortable about how things are going to work regarding his parents, and maybe more importantly the job. Tomorrow morning could be the beginning of some answers to the questions in my head about what makes Ryan tick.
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@tahoo.com donnymumford@outlook.com
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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for next to nothing. The books are under ten dollars. They are about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.
Donny Mumford
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