Chapter 19
by Donny Mumford
Robby and I get out of bed a little after ten o'clock Monday morning, ready and able to begin this third week of our junior year. We're in no rush this morning because our first and only class of the day isn't until one o'clock. We set-up our course schedule so we'd be able to sleep late Monday mornings when necessary. College weekend activities often include overdoing some form of alcoholic beverages. That's just the way it is, but we're feeling good because we hung around the apartment all day Sunday watching football on TV while imbibing nothing stronger than soft drinks and iced tea.
Prior to my college days, Monday morning was my least-liked day of the week. There was an entire week of long days at school to deal with. And I mean all day beginning around eight o'clock in the morning and going until about three o'clock in the afternoon, basically fucking up the whole day.
Higher education, on the other hand, takes a more sensible approach by affording a student a greater latitude in choosing the courses, the times, and the frequency one needs to show up for classes. For example, we signed up for only the one o'clock class today, and therefore Mondays are easy days instead of intimidating ones. Sure, we have three classes on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, but they're more manageable because we had an easy Monday.
Then on Fridays we have an early class and after that the rest of the day is ours; it's like three day weekends every weekend. Smart! In addition to not worrying about it being Monday, I'm feeling good about the excellent sexy weekend I had with Rob. I've also mended fences with Ryan. He and I came to an agreement on Friday. I haven't liked the awkward situation we found ourselves in previously so I accommodated him on a few things. Frankly I'm beginning to feel it's a bit tedious accommodating his mood swings. My attempt at reconciling with him started off contentious and argumentative, but then concessions were made, mostly by me, and we finished up with sub/dom sex to seal the deal. So yeah, a bit of a bumpy ride at first, but we came to an understanding that we're okay with. I'd promised myself I wouldn't continue to be the first one to call or text, but relented and agreed it's my job to call and/or text him and check in, say 'Hi', and maybe make plans to get together. It remains to be seen if that's enough to satisfy Ryan long term. I never know with him. Like I said, it's getting a bit tedious dealing with his revolving mood swings.
It's a fact that there's a hierarchy in organizations from the top person on down, and in our relationship the hierarchy is Ryan as number one, and me number two. Otherwise he's unhappy. That's just the way it is, and I'm okay with it. We couldn't have a relationship with any other hierarchy. Ryan assumed the number one spot soon after we met, and that's how he sees himself. Actually I see him that way too because I don't give a shit about being number one; it's an ego thing for him. I also see Robby as number one, but it's a much different situation because he's accepted the leader role although initially reluctant. Only within the last year agreeing to be the head of our household. So it's like this: Ryan insists he's the boss while Rob had to be talked into it. Very different things.
Chubby wouldn't be happy hearing me describe my relationship with Rob and Ryan that way, but I'd describe Chubby's and my relationship the exact same way. After saying that, the word hierarchy has never been spoken out loud by any of us. It's an unspoken fact in almost every relationship though, personal or work related. With Ryan, he insists on it while Robby reluctantly acknowledges it with qualifiers, and Chubby would laugh it off as preposterous, and yet there it is. I don't see myself as a second class citizen at all. I know I'm at least on par with all three of them, but I defer to all of them for the sake of harmony, and because I'm flexible and a good rationalizer, plus I know in my heart if I really wanted something from any of those three they'd give in to me. I do my best work behind the scenes you might say, whispering good advice in the ears of the number ones, and I continue whispering the good advice until it's finally accepted.
What I'm baffled by so far is why Ryan's transferring to a Georgia university. As far as I can tell his primary reason for the transfer has something to do with me not being more like Danny, of Marietta fame. Get serious though, he must have a better reason than that. Something to do with his parents perhaps, or maybe Ryan doesn't know himself why he wants to transfer.
That wouldn't surprise me because since returning to college I don't think Ryan knows what he wants. His ego, or lack of ego, definitely is involved to some degree. Yeah, well, there are still quite a few weeks left in this semester, so he's got time to change his mind. I don't want him to go, but I also don't want to feel obligated to continue with the Marietta haircuts and things of that sort. That was basically the gist of our discussion last Friday. Really goofy, but then Ryan's been a bit goofy the entire three weeks of junior year. Have I mentioned it's getting tedious trying to appease him? So, I'm thinking about all this stuff while making scrambled eggs for breakfast. Most aspects of my life, while not perfect, are pretty much under control, and I'm happy.
Rob and I eat breakfast discussing things and concluding pretty much what I concluded about my own feelings: not everything is perfect, but things are pretty much under control. We feel pretty good about everything, especially us. Then today unfolds very much like last Monday. We have our class, do assignments for the class in the library, and then we both go to the ballpark where I watch some of the baseball team's practice from the bleachers, talking with Robby's girl posse: Frankie, Beth and Tootsie Roll. This is the third and last week of formal fall baseball practice. When Daryl texts me, I join him at his dorm and change into clothes appropriate for running.
Knowing what to expect this Monday, unlike last Monday, I brought a change of clothes with me in my backpack. Pony and I do the three mile run, then workout in the fitness center. The final part of our daily workout we do in the apartment. Pony sucks my cock, I spank his ass, then fuck his smacked ass hard. Except for having the three classes Tuesday through Thursday, our schedule pretty much follows Monday's schedule. We're in a routine now which is a good thing. So it's been mostly a typical week with only minor differences from last week. Tuesday was different because I spent some time with Ryan instead of watching baseball practice.
On Fridays Robby and I have different courses and his class begins an hour before mine. Friday's class is the one I have with Ryan. After class, like last Friday, Robby expects I'll be hanging-out with Ryan for part of the day. Furthermore, I assume he assumes Ryan and I will probably engage in some form of buddy sex. Robby's obviously not thrilled about that, but he's okay with it. Last Friday Rob hung out with Frankie all afternoon, and he might do that again since she's become a friend of his like Danny Monday and Golden Summers are friends of his. Rob's first girl friend, as in a girl who is his friend, you might say. Danny inadvertently told me at the frat party that he and Rob occasionally engaged in buddy sex, and while I'm not thrilled about that, the way Rob isn't thrilled about Ryan and me, I'm okay with it. It's our arrangement. It's worked for Robby and me from when we first became boyfriends. We intend having a monogamous love affair beginning our senior year, but that's a year from now. Senior year we'll follow the plans about marriage proposed by Rob a year ago when we prematurely became secretly engaged. The secret lasted about a long as the engagement. We nullified the engagement as soon as we realized we weren't mature enough yet to pull it off, but we expect to be mature enough by next year. Rob's an optimist, you might say.
So, like I said, the week played out without any big surprises for Rob or me. The only exceptions being, we couldn't always complete all of the day's assignments in the library, so we did the rest of it in the apartment after Rob's baseball practice. The other exception didn't effect Rob. To pacify Ryan, I texted him and he texted back on Tuesday that he wanted to see me before I went to the ballpark. In compliance with our relationship's hierarchy, I texted back, 'Sure, Ryan, I'll be there.' So I showed up at his dorm right after my last class of the day. He pulled me inside with a grin on his face and gave me a sexy kiss. Then he told me he's horny for me, but we don't have the luxury of lots of time. We have a half hour before his roommate, Steve's, last class ends. I'm nodding my head agreeing that some quick buddy sex is a good use of the time.
I take off my back pack and after a minute or two of small talk, he asked me if I've given any thought to when I might want his specialty Marietta haircut. Well fuck that! I got pissed-off and told him we talked this out last Friday. We had some back and forth on the subject with Ryan being calm, cool, and collected, so it wasn't actually an argument. Somehow he got me to promise I'd get that haircut one last time before he transfers, but not now. In the back of my mind I figure I can promise that because I'm thinking he'll change his mind about the transfer anyway. You know, since things are looking up for our relationship. I've already sort of disregarded parts of Chubby's advice about Ryan, but I've got like this thing for Ryan that I'm not ready to just throw away... not yet I'm not. I mean, he's sexy hot and even his voice causes a buzzing in my nuts; it's almost hypnotic when he talks in earnest about something, like the stupid haircut which for him is a metaphor for him being in-charge of moi. Which is why I gave my word he can do the haircut before he leaves. He was smugly contented with that as the word tedious buzzed around in my brain again.
When that was settled to his satisfaction, he pulled my jeans and underwear down to my knees. I did the same to his jeans and underwear and we leaned into each other making-out with our cocks rubbing together. His scent got in my head and my dick boned-up quickly. Ryan reached over to stroked my dick a few times, then told me to get on my knees. I did that, picked up his heavy penis and sucked on the head for a minute or so, which is all it took to finish off the boner that started growing during our make-out. Ryan pulled me up off my knees with a fistful of my hair and, with a hard smack on my ass, he turns me around. The slightly rough stuff established a bit of dominance for a sub/dom buddy fuck. So, we had our boners, our underwear and pants were now down around our ankles, and we're standing like that with my back to Ryan. He dragged the head of his hard cock up and down my ass crack a few times and when I felt precum wetness I knew that big boy boner was going to start it's trip up my ass momentarily. We're both aroused as he pushed at the back of my head a couple of times so, doing my submissive role, I meekly asked, "Do you want me to lean over, or get on my hands and knees." He smacked my ass, WHACK!" and muttered, "Doggy style." I get down on all fours and he smacks my ass again, "WHACK! WHACK!" It hurt, but what actually made me yelp was him humping the fat head of his boner in past my sphincter muscle. Jesus! It hurts like hell and I was like, "Aaaah, shiiit!"
He smacked the side if my thigh three times, and pulled the head out of my ass, muttering, "Don't be a wimp, boy." His rough talk is part of sub/dom sex, the way he does it anyway And yeah, those smacks on my ass gave me a twinge of submissiveness which allows me to concentrate on the sex. I glanced back and saw Ryan get a tube of lube from his desk drawer. See, he's not cruel or mean; he smacks my ass as part of his dominant role, but he's considerate by using lubricant....
always a good idea. He should think of it more often! Even with the lubricant there's still some pain when his big boner goes inside me. This is nothing like me sitting down on his fat pole last Friday and sliding all the way down, but back then my submissive trance was a very deep one and the pain was mostly ignored. With a light submissive sense like the one I was in Tuesday, I complained to Ryan, "That hurts like a motherfucker, Ryan!" That got me two more slaps on the side of my ass, so I shut up after that. Nobody I know does dominant as good as Ryan.
He continued pushing his cock up my ass even after I complained, so I held my breath and concentrated on relaxing my ass muscles the way a good submissive sex partner is supposed to act. Finally, I felt him bump his crotch against my buttocks. It still hurts but not nearly as much because the lower parts of my rectum had relaxed by the time the head had plowed it's way eight inches up inside me. Anyway I was soon sighing with relief when the pain drifted away and enjoyed feeling totally filled up to capacity back there. What a feeling that is! Ryan leaned against my buttocks, waiting a minute to give me a break. When he heard a moan of pleasure from me, "Ooh, mmmm," he asked, "You okay, pussy boy?" I nodded, "Uh huh." Name-calling by the dom is part of the package. He withdrew his boner slowly and pushed it back in just fine, then I shuddered a little when I felt his boner expand inside me. I could only imagine how good it must be feeling on his hard dick Ryan fucked me hard, my body rocking to and fro on my hands and knees. It soon felt so good in my ass I moaned contentedly through the entire six-minute fuck. Ryan blew his load first. He was tight against my ass humping my buttocks and making an unusual, for him, loud, "AAAAH!" I felt the rush of creamy wetness flooding my bowels, then again, but by that time I was gasping and humping my hips, squealing at the cum that pumped out of my hard cock. My boner was up against my stomach and the stream of cum just missed my chin, landing on the legs of the desk chair. I was shaking on my hands and knees when another two good shots of cum followed the first. Then the usual gasping for air, hearts pounding, and all those bodily reactions that occur when coming down off the high of climax. With a big exhale Ryan pulled his cock from my ass leaving it gaping open again. He stepped around me, saying, "Just a quick clean up, boy." He was still in his dominant role obviously. My minor submissive sense lingered and then strengthened as I sucked on his cock getting most of the cum off of it. After that Ryan dropped the dominant stuff and used Handi Wipes to clean my ass. I put some tissues in my underpants before pulling them up tight, hoping the cum would get absorbed, which it did.
As we're pulling up our pants, Ryan said, "That helped a lot. After last Friday I've been horny as a toad. You got my fires burning again." Something like that, and I remember thinking, 'Gee, does he mean he hasn't had any other sex but mine since leaving Marietta?' I told him an afternoon quickie was a great idea, to build him up a little. The truth is though, it hurt too much initially, and then the sex was too quick to compensate for the pain. My ass isn't used to a cock the size of Ryan's. In Georgia he fucked me a lot and my rectum got used to it, but after a ten- week separation it's definitely not use to it now. Robby's cock is almost as fat as Ryan's, but half as long. It's Robby's cock that my rectum recognizes now and can quickly adjust to it. The kind of quickie type fuck we did on Tuesday was disappointing from my point of view, and not something I'd look forward to again.
With us cleaned up and our pants back on, Ryan reminded me, "Again Friday after class, right, Dylan?" I nod, and he says, "I'll give you a really dominant experience then. Maybe we can do something before class too, but definitely after class." I invited him to join the card game Friday night, but he said no thanks because there'll be too many guys there he won't know. It was ten minutes before Steve and his friendly manner joined us momentarily. We exchanged greetings, he dropped off his backpack, and was gone again.
I wanted to leave too so I told Ryan about me running three miles and working out with a guy four or five days a week. I invited Ryan to join us doing that too, knowing he wouldn't, and he didn't. A kiss goodbye and I jogged over to Pony's dorm thinking how Ryan's lost most of his social interaction capabilities. I helped him develop a social persona in Georgia, but it obviously hasn't carried over to college. He's only comfortable socially when he's the big man, the guy in charge like he is with Jeff and Timmy... and me too, I guess. I'm worried about Ryan because he seems to be regressing back into his dark-mood days, feeling inferior which I guessing is the reason he desperately needs to hold onto his in-charge status with me. Amateur physiologist, that's me.
Anyway, other than that Tuesday afternoon my week went almost exactly like last week. We had the girls over for dinner Wednesday night, and then last night, Thursday night, Frankie and Beth surprised us with way too much Chinese take-out. I'm feeling a little more relaxed around the girls now.
Mostly though it's those three interacting: Robby, Frankie, and Beth. They're big on goofing around and laughing while mostly I'm just there with a pleasant attitude, and always ready to laugh along, even if sometimes it's a little forced... my laughter, I mean. Robby and I did have delicious sex every day this week, at least once, but usually twice and that made up a little for me needing to share him with the girls. Daryl and I are quickly becoming good buddies. So, everything considered, the first three weeks couldn't have gone much better. There's been some unexpected developments, but basically it's mostly good.
So today, Friday morning, Robby gives me a kiss goodbye after parking at Merrimack, and then he's on his way to class. I have almost an hour before class so I saunter unhurriedly toward dormitory row. Ryan and I texted yesterday with him asking me to spend the free time I have before class with him. That's an improvement over what I did last Friday, which was walk around chasing my tail for forty-five minutes. I feel okay about Ryan and me now, notwithstanding Tuesday disappointing quickie fuck. He's still tedious at times, but compared to last Friday my mood is a hundred percent better.
After saying that, I'm strangely not feeling excited anticipation about the sub/dom sex I expect we'll do after class, and that's a little bit puzzling to me. Anticipating Ryan's sub/dom sex used to get me squirming with sexual anticipation, and a lot of that just isn't there anymore.
His roommate, Steve, answers the door as soon as I knock. We exchange pleasantries, and inside the room I drop my backpack on Ryan's desk chair, glancing at the barber toiletry kit still laying on his desk. I really need to bring that with me when I leave after class. Steve tells me, "He got up late so he's grumpy, rushing to take a shower. I'm gonna leave you to deal with him, Dylan, heh heh." I'm like, "No problem. Do you have a class now?" He straightens the framed picture of his girlfriend on his desk, saying, "No, no classes today. I'm meeting some guys at the quad for one of their infamously inferior breakfast sandwiches." Walking out the door, he goes, "Oh, and thank you for giving those two guys haircuts. I don't actually know them, but I've seen them in the Quad once or twice." Curious, I ask, "You don't know them? Um, they mentioned your name," and he goes, "Yeah, we introduced ourselves. They overheard me talking to my bud, Silas, about how you're an awesome barber, and how you wouldn't take any money for my haircut." I go, "Huh, yeah but they said they knew you. I assumed they were friends of yours." He shrugs, "Well, I talked to them for five minutes, but that's about it. They're seniors and sorta looked down their noses at Sy and me." I go, "Well fuck me! I got punked, but it's not your fault, Steve." He nods his head, then shrugs, saying, "Um, about Silas. Do you think you could...?"
Snorting out a laugh because, even with the misunderstanding of the two seniors conning me into free haircuts, Steve still has the balls to manipulate me into giving his friend a free haircut. Thinking what a sap I am, I go, "Yeah, sure, Steve. Have Silas call me." He pats my back as Ryan slides past him in the doorway wearing only a towel around his waist, carrying his toiletry kit."
The roommates bump fist in passing, then Ryan leans over and gives me a smooch on the lips, smiling and saying, "You always taste good!" He doesn't seem grumpy. He says, "Dylan, get me a pair of boxer shorts out of the top drawer." The drawer is open, so I pick up the one on top as Ryan is neatly draping the towel over the back of his desk chair, to dry I assume. With his huge package swinging between his legs he pulls on the boxer shorts, then gives me a hug and a thirty second sexy kiss with lots of tongue. It leaves me sucking on my lips, tasting toothpaste, and adjusting my junk. Ryan's combing his hair looking at a mirror that's hung on the inside door of a freestanding wardrobe, or armoire. Armoire is too fancy a word for that cheap looking imitation-wood piece of furniture. His clothes are hung neatly inside. Combing his bangs over to the side, he asks, "What can I do with my hair, Dylan? It looks so boring." I go, "It's that Super Cuts haircut you stupidly got instead of asking me for a haircut." He turns around grinning, then puts his arms around the back of my neck, his face close to mine, saying, "Ahhh, you're jealous that I didn't let you give me a haircut." I nod, "Yeah, I am. I like giving you haircuts... and, hey, why did you shave?" He lets go of me leaving behind the scent of bath gel and shampoo, saying, "Oops, I forgot you liked the feel my beard on your baby face, ha ha, you nut." I mutter, "You do look younger after you shave." He goes, "Anyway, I give you my word of honor you'll be the only barber I go to until I transfer."
I'm pleasantly surprised he didn't turn this brief haircut conversation into another tirade about giving me the Marietta specialty haircut.
Apparently, since he got my promise I'd go for it at least once before he leaves, he's satisfied. It still surprises me though. He's an unpredictable moody fellow.
Still fucking with his hair, he sees my reflection in the mirror as I'm staring at his hairy legs, and tells me, "Take your pants off. Take everything off but your underwear and we'll mess around on my bed. I know you like rubbing your legs against my hairy ones.' I'm frowning at him wondering how he comes up with the things he says, so he says, "Personally I hate hairy legs. Do you think I should shave mine?" I mumble, "No, your legs are sexy." Not really feeling it, I get undressed because I'm intent on eliminating as many arguments with Ryan as possible. Dropping my pants, then pulling off my sweatshirt, I kick off my sneakers as Ryan flops on his bed, a bed narrower than a twin bed, but just as long. More like a cot.
His almost naked body is sexy hot with just the right amount of chest hairs between his pecs. I lie next to him and he chuckles, then drops his pillow on my face, rolling over on top of me. I smell him on the pillowcase until he knocks the pillow off my face and kisses the top of my nose, then he's very sweet saying complimentary things about me in between little kisses and lightly tracing the pad of his fingers over my facial features. This is lover's behavior and I'm uncomfortable with it coming from Ryan. Our hot sexy make-outs are only intended as foreplay, not lover's make-outs. What intrigues me about Ryan is the way he can be dominant and rough, usually without going too far with it, but that's got nothing to do with this affectionate lover's behavior he exhibiting now. I want to experience being submissive during sex with Ryan because it increases my sexual arousal and intensifies my orgasms. His affectionate behavior this morning is never going to bring on a submissive sense because it's inappropriate. Yeah but, we just recently reconnected and if I now object to his show of affection it'll hurt his feelings. It might set us back to being awkward with each other again.
What to do? It's not like his almost naked body on mine isn't sexy, because it is, and he smells and looks sexy to me too, so I'll go along with it for now.
Then, making matters worse, Ryan slides off me to lie on his back. His arm goes behind my neck pulling my head over to his, like Robby does. With our foreheads touching, he murmurs, "I hope you know how deeply in love with you I am, Dylan, but in case you don't, I wanted to say it straight out. I feel awful that I need to smack your ass so hard during my dominant sex.
What I want to do is pamper you and adore you." Okay, that was too much. I go, "Adore me? Really?" He grins, "Wrong word, you're right that was creepy."
I take this as an opportunity to try getting us on the right track. We're not lovers! We're sub/dom sex buddies giving each other sexual pleasure. We can be kissing gay friends if he needs that, but we're not lovers. I go, "You know what I adore about you?" He snickers, and goes, "No, what?" I say, "The way you can pull off being very dominant during sex without being offensive. You do it best." He likes hearing compliments, especially because I don't think he's heard many from his parents, ever. Frankly, I'm dying to ask him if he's adopted, except he might not know himself.
Ryan goes, "I used to love submissive sex myself, being the submissive bottom, you know. I've told you about that, right?" I'm like, "Yeah, but you always did it with the wrong doms. That's why I'm lucky to be able to have safe sub/dom sex with you." He goes, "Yeah, I was unlucky. So, you think I do dominant really good, huh?" I go, "Yep, you do it about as good as it gets, Ryan." He's nodding his head, looking pleased with himself, "Well, we'll have an opportunity to do that after class." I'm like, "Well, for now let me rub my legs against yours a few times before we leave for class." He laughs as I rub his hairy legs with my hairless ones, then I reach down and rub my fingers lightly through the curly fine hairs on his calves. He has zero hair on his thighs, which is a good thing. I don't like hair on guy's thighs. That's too hairy.
Successfully getting him off his affectionate behavior, Ryan now says, "This is turning me on," and I'm like, "Me too." We're lying on top of the covers with me rubbing up and down his leg with my hand. I can hardly feel the hairs they're so fine, and soft, and curly. He has nice looking legs for a guy. He groans, "You're getting me really aroused now," and he pulls his cock through the slit in front of his boxer shorts. I look up, "Um, do we have time for this, Ryan?" Turning on the dominance, he goes, "Just get up here and suck me off." Holy shit, my cock tightens right up. I'm so gay, I've always liked sucking on a guy's sex organ. Reaching up, I take his cock in my fingers, then get between his legs and suck the fat head of his slightly firm cock into my mouth while still rubbing my right calf up and down his left one. So fucking sexy! After sucking the head for a little bit, I take some shaft in my mouth to tongue and suck all around it. Soon my spit is drooling down my chin and I'm making slurping wet mouth sucking-sounds.
Slurping on his cock gets me very sexually aroused while, at the same time, I'm inhaling his scent and it all makes me moan, "Mmmm," around his big hard cock. My smaller one grows hard and lifts tightly up against my belly. Wow, feels so good! When fully boned-up his cock is too long and fat to get more than three inches of it in my mouth. As my sucking and licking continue on the swollen three inches, Ryan's making little gasping sounds and moving his ass on the bed, running his fingers through my hair. After maybe two minutes, he says, "Keep it in your mouth while I get you on your back." He's strong and he sort of rolls me to the left, almost falling off the bed until Ryan grabs the other side of the mattress pulling us over to the middle. His cock pulled out of my mouth with my teeth scraping down the shaft. Ryan lifts my legs and spanks my ass a few times.
With my ass stinging, he drops my legs and straddles my body, his crotch over my face and a knee on either side of me. Opening my mouth, his cock slides in on my tongue as I grip my fist around the lowest five inches of shaft, stroking his boner and slurping on the head again. Ryan groans, then puts his hand on my forehead and pushes my head back as far as it'll go. He lifts up slightly, and forces that fat cock head past my gag reflex area and into my throat. This is nothing new as he deep throated me almost every day in Georgia, but after all this time I'm not used to it. I'm gagging, breathing noisily through my nose, and struggling under him. His hard cock goes all the way down until his pubic hairs cover my nose to below my chin. I can't breathe so I struggle harder, pushing at him, but he won't lift up.
After like fifteen or twenty seconds I panic and my whole body is struggling mightily to flop him off me, as he's saying sternly, "Relax boy or you'll get another spanking. Take all of your man's big cock in your throat." My face is dark red as I continue trying desperately to get him off me. Then claustrophobia slides over me and that's a horrible feeling so I struggle all the harder. Ryan's like, "Stop struggling!" and he yanks on a fistful my hair hard, then another hard pull at my hair and just like that a deep submissive trance slides over my brain and I go docile, totally dominated and into a deep submissive trance. He rubs my head, still leaving his cock fully down my throat, cooing, "That's my good boy. You know who your real man is now, don'cha, boy?"
I can barely keep my eyes open. He humps his hips and from nowhere I feel a climax come roaring up on me and my buzzing nuts. I hump my hips as much as I can and have a big orgasm silently, squealing only in my head. Three good streams of creamy cum shoot from my cock going nowhere except to slush against Ryan's leg, soaking into his boxer shorts. Three partial hip humps and three shots of cum leaves me shuddering and even limper than I already was. He feels the wetness on his leg, looks shocked, and lifts up on his knees pulling his cock out go my throat. Air streams inside me filling my lungs, then another huge inhale before Ryan lifts up and pushes his cock down my throat again. All my throat muscles are relaxed now and Ryan's able to hump and thrust his boner back and forth in my throat like he does when he's fucking my ass. That's the way to dominate your submissive sex partner.
You need to be a self-centered mean prick imposing your will on a partner with a weaker will.
In my trance I'm watching his face, but it's like I'm watching from a long distance away. It's like it's somebody else's throat getting fucked and I'm watching, fascinated by it. When Ryan's head goes back, I expect an orgasm is gonna happen soon, and with one more thrust, Ryan gags, "Aaaaaah,"
shooting a lot of spunk down my throat. Pulling his cock out of my throat, his body jerking around, the head of his boner lies on my tongue for the next three squirts of cum, then his cock is out past my lips entirely, and I'm surprised to find I have another boner. It felt for a second or two like I might have a follow-up orgasm. Gasping for air I'm pulling on my cock and moving my tongue all around my mouth tasting his cum. Ryan's face is still dark red as he inhales deeply, then says, "I can't believe how hard I just climaxed. My dick got scarily hard and just exploded."
Nodding my head and letting go of my cock I'm still in a daze, not sure what the fuck happened. It was an extreme submissive trance I was in, maybe the deepest yet. I don't recall experiencing anything like it before. The ultimate submission. Good climax though, what I remember of it anyway. Ryan's lifting the left leg of his boxer shorts away from his skin, mumbling, "Jesus, that was a big load of cum you shot on me, Dylan." I glance at the large wet spot, take another big breath, then mutter, "Wow, yeah. That was a scary climax alright." He says, "The way you abruptly stopped struggling and became completely resigned to your fate scared the shit out of me. Then, right after that you climaxed, and I didn't know what the fuck was going on." I'm like, "Yeah, spooky," and he goes, "You know what? That's exactly the way I used to get with those sick fucks the summer before last. It's almost a survival mode, or something like that. My body and mind became like a limp piece of three-day old lettuce, like I had no bones or muscles in my body." Sitting on the edge of his bed now, my feet on the floor, I'm like, "How'd we even get into the oral sex?" He goes, "I showed you my dick and one thing led to another, and we got more and more turned-on." I go, "You left your boner down my throat way too fucking long! We're not doing that again." He goes, "Jesus, look at the time! We gotta get moving."
We hop off the bed and Ryan changes his cum-soaked boxer shorts for a pair of whitey/tighty Jockey underwear, and I say, "Those jockey shorts really shows off that big package of your." He goes, "Another compliment! What a morning!" It wasn't necessarily a compliment. With his smaller body it looks freakish having a cock and balls that large swinging between his legs.
And it must be uncomfortable having something that large in your underpants every day, all day. As we finish getting dressed, I'm like, "I think you're cum, the pint you blew down my throat, has taken away my appetite, and I didn't even have breakfast this morning." He chuckles as we put on our backpacks and run out the door. We get to class a couple of minutes late, but it's a big class, like a hundred and fifty students of all colors, races, religions and sexes. The professor isn't here, which has a lot to do with the hubbub. So, being late today is no harm, no foul. The professors shows up two minutes later and the lecture hall becomes quiet. When the lecture begins there's a rustle in the hall again as students go through their backpacks looking for notebook and pens, as if they're surprised they need them. I even take notes. I'm finally into the college groove, into a college frame of mind.
After class, walking to Ryan's dorm with him next to me, I'm thinking how cool it is that now we start another three-day weekend. Normally I'd say a good way to start a three-day weekend is some hot sub/dom sex with Ryan, but after the deep throating it seems anticlimactic. I suppose after that death defying oral sex my sexual eagerness is largely missing. We have sex anyway, although I never really get into a true submissive sense; mostly what I got into was a sore ass. Ryan wasn't especially into it either, or maybe he fed off my lack of enthusiasm. On a scale of one to ten, last Friday's sex was a ten, while today's was more like a two. My eventual climax is good, don't get me wrong. Any climax is a pleasurable experience, but at times it can be unimaginably hot as well... sexual pleasure that's off the charts. My climax just now was definitely on the chart, probably near the beginning of the chart somewhere. The oral sex we had an hour and a half earlier took the shine off the anal sex. Not something I'd normally expect. It's usually the other way around.
Another theory I have is that last Friday was the first authentic sub/dom sex I've been involved in since my time with Ryan in Georgia, and therefore it had a uniqueness factor after many weeks without it. That wasn't the case after class today. Even though it was nuclear hot sex last week, I remember thinking that I probably wouldn't want to experience it again for at least a week. That might have been an understatement; maybe a week isn't long enough between authentic sub/dom sex with Ryan. I know one thing for certain: the allure of sub/dom sex has dimmed in me to a noticeable degree.
Maybe once every ten weeks is about right. That's a disturbing thought because in the past Ryan's sub/dom sex provided roller coaster rides of sexual thrills for me. The fire isn't out yet, but it's dimming.
After the sex Ryan and I aren't very talkative. He thinks he's coming down with something like a cold or the flu... whatever. I suggest he probably should get some rest, and he agrees. So I leave after Ryan gives me a last second goodbye kiss on the side of my mouth. It's not like there's animosity between us, nothing like that. There were no arguments, nothing negative.
We were friendly, but there was almost an air of wanting to apologize to each other because the sex was mutually flat and halfhearted. My best explanation is that neither of us needs it like we used to. That has me think, for the first time since I heard about him transferring, that maybe he should transfer. Confusing emotions perhaps as the fire burns lower between us, maybe getting ready to go out. That's a bit of a rash conclusion after only one unexceptional sub/dom sexual experience, probably too rash.
Yeah, it's like I'm second guessing myself again by thinking Chubby was right in the first place. Perhaps the best thing I can do for Ryan is leave him to sort out what he wants or needs, by himself. I'm seriously confused about the situation, but what's new about that? Anyway, here I am on campus again, near lunchtime, without a clue what I want to do now. No wait, obviously I'll text Rob and ask what he's doing between now and his three o'clock baseball practice. They didn't have Friday practice last week though, so maybe it's off for this Friday as well.
My text: 'Rob, what are ya doing now?' and a minute later the texts back, 'Frankie and I are playing XBOX in her dorm.' Jesus, XBOX? No thanks you very much to playing XBOX with the girls. I text, 'I'll catch up with you later.' Shouldn't he want to hook up with me? I text Chub, 'What's up, Bro.
Whaddaya doing?" Chub texts back, 'Getting ready to hit Al's Pizza for lunch. Come with us!' Hmmm, the 'us' part could mean John Beverly, or it could mean John Beverly, Chubby, and a couple of other guys, or it could be John Beverly, Chubby and a couple of girls, in which case I'd feel like a third wheel.
Huh! Yeah, but if I text back asking who comprises the 'us', it'll come off sounding wrong somehow. Like I'm concerned that people he has lunch with might be assholes. Lighting a cigarette, I'm like, "Hmmm, what's the right thing to do?" Unfortunately, I say that out loud, and two girls who were about to walk by me, stop. A nice looking girl with braces on her teeth, asks, "Are you lost?" I shake my head, mumbling, "Ha, oh no. No, I'm not lost.
Just thinking out loud." She can't take a hint, and asks, "Do you know someone here at Merrimack? And, you do know you're too young to be smoking, right?" To the know it all, busy-body, cunt, I go, "No, I'm not too young to smoke, and yeah, I know someone who goes to Merrimack, me for one." They exchange grins and roll their eyes at each other like I'm full of shit. The other girl, who has acne scars on her cheeks and is wearing a much too large sweatshirt, says, "What are you, honey, one of those brainiac fucks who goes from eighth grade to being a college freshman?" I say, "Yes, I am, but you can drop the fuck part of that designation; I'm just a plain brainiac.
Everyone says so." The first girl goes, "What a wise-mouthed prick! You looked like you were lost and we were just trying to help." I shrug, saying, "Try harder," and walk away confused about what initiated that encounter. One of the girls calls over her shoulder, "Asshole!" Clever...
My cellphone rings: it's Chubby. I go, "Hello," and he laughs, then says, "Hello. Have you decided if you'll have lunch with me yet?" Now it 'me' instead of 'us', which is much preferable as far as I'm concerned. I go, "You and me?" He laughs again, then says, "Yes, you and me, Dylan, plus John Beverly and Kicks." Oh, Kicks is the guy Chub went to the track with. I say, "I'd love to have some pizza with you. Can you pick me up?" Chubby goes, "Does a hobby horse have a wooden dick? Where you at, bro?" I say, "I'll be outside the Quad. Um, are you picking me up now?" He goes, "Does Dolly Parton sleep on her back?" I'm like, "Who?" I hear laughter from a few guys in the background, then Chubby says, "I'll be there in five minutes, Dylan." And he is too.
As I'm climbing in the back seat, John Beverly pats my shoulder, "Whaasup, Dylan?" I go, "Hi John Beverly," and sit next to a cool looking African American guy with startlingly green eyes. He holds out his fist, "How ya doing, Bro, I'm George Kickerson, mostly know as Kicks." I bump his fist, mumbling, "Nice to meet ya, Kicks." Chubby turns around in the driver's seat, looking at us, and saying to Kicks, "My bro doesn't know who Dolly Parton is.
Ya wanna show him?" Kicks says, "Do frogs have water-tight assholes? Of course I wanna show him." I chuckling at the water-tight asshole comment, as Kicks opens a raggedy People magazine and shows me a picture of a short white woman with huge white hair, a big black so-called beauty mark near her mouth, and ginormous tits out to here. I go, "Oh, hi Dolly."
Chubby drives off and it's apparent these three guys are into 'Does a bear shit in the woods?' alternatives phrases, which makes me think of my kissing pool-shooting buddy from the bar, Markie, and our version that goes: 'Does the tin man have a sheet-metal cock?' They ask contrived question to see if the other guy can come up with another one. As we drive along, John Beverly ask Chubby, "Do they serve pizza at Risarrio's," and Chubby goes, "Are the Kennedy's gun shy? Of course Risarrio's sells pizza." We all go, "Booo!" and Chub goes, "Okay, a little harsh. How about, Does the Pope wear a funny hat? Does a one legged duck swim in a circle?" And it went on like that with us laughing our balls off. When no one can think of anymore funny retorts to questions, I tell the guys about tonight's card game. They have dates tonight, but Chubby says, "Get them to play poker sometime, Bro." I'm like, "I've heard rumors it's going to be poker tonight. Poker, then next Friday it's pinochle, then maybe gin rummy the next Friday after that." Kicks mumbles, "Seriously, I'd like to make it for the next poker night." Chubby and John Beverly agree, so that'll be cool having Chubby there.
It's a good time at lunch. The thin crusted pizza is really good too, but we need to cut the lunch short because Kicks has a class. I ask Chubby to drop me off at the apartment in case Pony wants to do our run today. I can change into running clothes and leave off my backpack. Chubby and John Beverly are going to chill out in the dorm for a couple of hours, then do a little pre-date drinking at Tracy's.
Pony is outside his dormitory doing some stretching exercises when I get there after walking from the apartment. I do some stretching, imitating him, saying, "I wasn't sure we'd run today. We didn't last Friday." He goes, "Yeah, I forget why we didn't run." I'm like, "Hey, shouldn't the run seem easier for me after two weeks?" He goes, "Yeah, it should, but I hate to tell you this... next week we gotta trim thirty seconds off each mile. I hope you can handle that. Our current time is much too slow for me." I'm like, "Well ain't that a bitch for you. Don't let me slow you down. Run as fasts you want." He smirks, "Sensitive, huh?" I reach over and get him in a headlock, muttering, "I'll show you sensitive!" He squirms, but can't get out of my hold. Ha, here's someone I'm stronger than. Letting him go, I take his blue watch cap off his head and put it on my head. It has a New England Patriots logo on the front. Pony says, "You can wear it, Dylan, I don't mind."
The cap feels good and I could cover my ears if the wind picks up on the track, but I'm not a hat thief like some people I know. Taking it off, I go, "Well that's no fun. I thought you'd try to get it back." He won't take it, saying, "No, really, keep it. I'll get another one. Do you want to warm up in the dorm before we run?" I nod, putting the watch cap back on, and mumbling, "Thanks, Pony. You don't have cooties, do you?" He does his boyish grin, "None that I know of." Jesus, he's cute. He doesn't look like he's twenty years old anymore than those guys who I gave free haircuts to look twenty-one years old. Pony looks like he's seventeen and those guys looked like they're thirty-seven.
I follow Pony inside the dormitory where there's shouting and loud laughter. Noisy place. His dorm room is on the first floor near the lavatory.
Inside his room, Tom Higgins, Daryl's roommate, looks up from his laptop, "Hey, Dylan, you're sticking with Daryl's running program I hear." I nod, "Yeah, with Pony bitching at me to run faster." Tom goes, "Yeah, my roomie is a real terror. Hey, what card game is on for tonight?" I look at Pony, saying, "I heard poker. Didn't you, Daryl?" He shrugs, handing me a bag with clothes he'd borrowed the night he showered at my place and stayed to have dinner. He says, "I didn't hear anything about the card game. All I know is, you and I are a team." Tom say, "There's no teams in poker." Pony does an imitation of a spoiled brat, stamping him feet, yelling, "I won't play then!!"
Tom grins looking at me, muttering, "He's cute, ain't he?" Not sure how much Tom knows about Pony and me, I take the middle ground, "Eye of the beholder, I guess, Tommy." He goes, "Jesus, nobody's called me Tommy since middle school." As we leave he yells after us, "Can I get a ride to the game with you tonight, Dylan?" I yell over my shoulder, "Do frogs have water-tight assholes?" I hear him chuckling as the door closes. After taking two steps I stop and give the bag of clothes back to Pony, saying, "I'm not carrying this while we're running." He mutters, "I'm such an ass," and takes the bag back in the room. Actually I'm the ass for carrying the bag out here.
We do our run and go through our normal workout afterwards at the fitness center, then as he's wiping the sweat off his face with a towel, Pony asks, "Where can we finish our workout. You let me down last Friday and I pouted all weekend." I go, "You weren't pouting Friday night," and he goes, "I was faking having a good time." Shrugging, I'm like, "Probably at my apartment. The last time I talked to Rob he was at Frankie's dorm room playing XBOX." Then checking my wristwatch, I say, "Huh, it's almost four-thirty and it's getting dark already, what the fuck is that all about?" Daryl shrugs, "I don't know, were the clocks moved foreword for daylight savings time?" I say, "Maybe, anyway we can finish our workout like we normally do, assuming Rob's not there." Pony says, "Whatever, I need to confess that I've been a very bad boy and need a hard spanking from you tonight. Just saying..." I pretend I'm serious, asking, "How'd you like to wear my dog collar too?" He says, "I'd like that a lot. Young guys on the gay sites look cool in dog collars." Walking outside again, I ask, "Have you given up on the bisexual thingie already?" He makes a face, "I don't know what the fuck I am. All I know for sure is I like being with you... a lot!" I go, "Oh man, that's so nice of you to say, Pony. Right back at you, dude!"
As we walk towards the parking lot I blurt out a laugh, and stop. Pony's like, "What...?" I go, "Why are we walking to the parking lot? I don't have a fucking car. Rob's got the pickup and my brother's got the Jeep. We'll need to, gasp, walk." Pony mutters, "Balls," making me smile because he picked that up from me. It's a tricky business crossing route 114, but we make it to the apartment in about ten minutes. In the kitchen I get a Coke and offer Daryl one, but he shakes his head, muttering, "No thanks." I'm drinking from the can and Pony goes, "I'll have a sip of yours though, if you don't mind." I pass him the can and he rubs his hand over the opening before taking a drink. I say, "There are more fucking germs on your dirty hand than there are on my lips." He blurts out a laugh spraying me with Coke. Still laughing, he says, "Sorry I spit on you, Dylan, but I wiped the can purposely to get a rise out of you. I don't think you have germs," and he leans his head over and, real fast, kisses me on the lips. I rub his buzzed head, then grab behind his neck pulling his head over and give him a real kiss that, lo and behold, he opens his mouth for, a little anyway, then lets out a quiet moan, "Mmm." Sweet. We pass the can of Coke back and forth until we finish it.
Even though I don't need it, not after Ryan's sex this morning, we do the usual suck and fuck, then decide Daryl will stay for dinner and the card game. We take turns in the shower. I go first and, when I'm dressed in the kitchen, Robby comes in all smiles, saying, "Hi, boyfriend," and we kiss briefly on the lips. "Is that the shower I hear?" I go, "Yep, it's Daryl. He's staying for dinner again. Are we playing poker tonight?" Robby gets a Coke, saying, "That's what the card-shark queen tells me. Frankie runs the Friday night card games apparently." I'm like, "Yeah, and in our apartment no less. And don't forget the girls need to help clean up afterward." He nods, "I already talked with them about that. They'll come over Saturday morning, or afternoon. Whenever I text them." I go, "Good! Whaddaya want for dinner?" He asks, "What do we got, baby," as he hugs me from behind, saying quietly in my ear, "If you hadn't invited Daryl to stay, we could be screwing this very second." I go, "Yeah well, don't drink too much tonight so you can perform your head of the house duties in bed."
Rob's still holding me from behind, licking and kissing the side of my neck and humping his junk against my ass when Pony walks down the hall, and goes, "Oops, my bad. I forgot you two were fags." We grin at him, as Robby asks, "You wanna join us?" Pony's eyes flick over to mine, not sure if I've told Rob anything about us. I quickly jump in, saying, "No way Rob. I'm not sharing you, um, not with anyone more than I'm already sharing you with."
He goes, "Poppy cock! I'm exclusively yours." and changes the subject, asking, "How many decks of regular poker cards do we have?" I say, "None, just pinochle cards." He lets go of me and calls Frankie telling her about the lack of poker cards. Pony and I exchange looks. What I need to do is tell him that nobody knows about us, so any gay sex comment from anybody towards him is to be taken as a joke.
We have chicken for dinner and later the card game goes really good. Lots of good natured curse-filled accusations of cheating. And Pony does know how to play poker so no need for tutoring from me. Although guys rotated from table to table Pony only played in games I was in. There were twenty guys and girls in the apartment at one point, and when it got loud in here we heard banging on the wall from the apartment next to ours. Chubby went over and talked to the residents. It didn't surprise me when he brought a forty-year-old man back with him. He's our neighbor obviously, and he's the last to leave saying he'll join us next Friday for gin rummy night. He's bringing his wife as his partner. Oh goodie! I sauntered over to Chubby at one point, whispering, "Stop bringing old people to a college card game, dude." He laughs, but of course he did the perfect thing. The husband and wife living in the only apartment that our noise can be heard will be with us making some of the noise. The floor below us is for the storage units and the laundromat. No occupants. For the first time in my life, that I can recall, I won at poker. I only won five hands all night but every one of the five I won had a big pot. I started with forty dollars; that being the most I was willing to lose, and was down to twelve dollars at one point before winning my first big pot. At night's end I had ninety-six dollars. Pony said he broke about even, which is poker-speak meaning he lost between ten and twenty dollars. That's almost even, ya know, considering what today's dollar can buy.
Then Saturday night after dinner Chubby, John Beverly, Rob, and I went back to the bar with the pool tables and drank beer shooting pool until twelve-thirty or so. I was hoping Markie, my pool partner of two weeks ago, would show up, but he was elsewhere. The next two weeks very closely followed this past week, which closely followed the one before that. The Friday night card games are popular and will likely continue all through junior year.
Instead of shooting pool the next Saturday night we went to a party at the local Knights of Columbus. One of the fraternities rented the place for the night. We were not alone however as there were Knights of Columbus members either bar tending, or I suppose chaperoning us college guys and girls to prevent us from wrecking the place. I danced a lot, even danced with Pony who got in even though he's underage. Fraternities only care if you have the entrance fee. Toddlers would be welcomed if they could steal twenty bucks from mommy's purse, and then avoided being run over while getting here on their tricycles.
Sundays Robby and I are considering as our day, his and my day. We stay in and watch the NFL games that are on from one o'clock until midnight. We eat snacks mostly and drink non-alcoholic beverages. We also fuck at least three times on Sundays. Robby's Fall baseball practice ended a couple of weeks ago and we haven't settled on exactly what to do with those two and a half hours every day after we've done our homework. A lot of the time that Pony and I are working out Rob is at Frankie's dorm. I'm still texting Ryan and we're getting along okay except he won't join any activity involving guys he doesn't know, and there are almost always guys he doesn't know involved with most of the activities. He did go to the movies one night with Chubby, John Beverly, me, and Robby. I don't think Ryan said a word to Robby all night. So dumb! No more quick sex on Tuesdays for Ryan and me, but we do our sub/dom sex on Fridays after the class we have together. No mention about his stupid haircut for me, but there's also no special submissive trances for me either. Oh sure, I still get off pretty good, but there's no magic like that first Friday he was here at Merrimack. So I'm not sure what's up with Ryan and me. I guess we'll see how that turns out, but he claims he's still transferring after final exams.
Twice during the last two weeks I've tasted lipstick on Robby's lips after he leaves Frankie's dorm when he gives me a kiss hello. So that makes three time it's happened now that I think about it, but I'm holding off questioning him hoping he'll bring it up on his own, like he did the morning after the first frat party. Robby knows I'm running and working out every weekday, and he thinks it's great. I've invited him to join us, but he doesn't seem inclined. So I'm thinking he plans on spending a lot of that time with Frankie. They're not boyfriend and girlfriend... yet. Consequently, she hasn't had her eyes scratched-out... yet. They claim to be friends, who seem to be getting tighter by the day. It's like they think the same things are funny, and I admit Frankie is kinda funny, and she's always happy, smiling, and with an impossible positive attitude. And she is so nice and accommodating to me I could ring her neck! Beth's around a lot too, and Tootsie joins the girls once in a while as well. It's Frankie though who is every-fucking-where so much so I'm surprised I haven't stepped on her yet. That's what it seems like to me anyway. Maybe Robby thinks Daryl's everywhere too, but he's not here as much as the girls.
So it's another Monday morning, the third week of October, and I hear from Robby that Frankie's planning our Halloween party already. Costume party of course. I suggested that her and Rob come as Jack and Jill. He told Frankie and she thought it was a cute idea, but of course I was thinking about the part where Jill's tumbling down that fucking hill. No hill here, so how about the stairs? Improvise Goddammit! I'll help...
to be continued...
Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.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 usually around 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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