DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter 53
by Donny Mumford
I'm in the hall holding open the apartment door waiting for John Smith to come through the door from the stairs. When he opens the door, he glances the wrong way at first. He's looking awfully young to be wearing the NAPA work hat and the Haverhill Toyota mechanic's uniform. Like a skinny kid dressed-up in Daddy's clothes. Looking my way, he shows his cute grin that's surrounded by all those freckles and then walks towards me, asking, "Hey, dude, is the barbershop open?" I go, "Do ya have an appointment?" John mutters,
"Fuck that." We bump fists as I mumble, "How ya doing?" and he says, "Good, real good."
John came directly from work and has the now familiar car-tires-smell on his clothes. It's not an unpleasant smell though. Inside the apartment, I glance at his hands and see he's taken extra care cleaning them. When he takes his hat off it's obvious he tried to do something with his unruly hair too. It's partially combed to the side in front although the hairs at the crown aren't cooperating. I ask, "When your hair was growing out from the buzz cut why didn't you try training it? You know, combing it over after a shower at least." He goes, "Don't break my balls about my hair, Dylan. I'm not
as fastidious about my appearance as you are." I go, "Fastidious is a word I would have thought rarely used by automobile mechanics." He chuckles, "Yeah, ya don't hear that word too often at the shop. I need to be sure I include 'fuck' in every sentence too." I mutter, "We all say 'fuck' a lot, not just mechanics."
As he's taking his jacket off he asks the same thing almost everybody asks me before a haircut, "What kind of haircut should I get, Dylan? I want one that doesn't require a lot of fuss." As I set out the barber stuff, I'm like, "I recently gave a flattop to a young guy and it looks coolly-retro."
He mumbles, "Fuck retro, what's current?" I describe the hideous current fad of shaved hair around the head with long hair on top. He rejects that too so I suggest a short cut with the bangs flipped up in front. He thinks that's too 'faggy'. Finally, exasperated, I say, "Since you don't want another buzz cut and you can't make-up your mind what to get as an alternative why don't I surprise you. I'll start cutting and see what I come up with that doesn't requiring you doing much with it. Something in between the haircuts we talked about that you don't want." He shrugs, and mutters, "Yeah, okay, why not...? I don't want to be a pain in the ass about it."
He sits on the stool with the barber cape around him and I take only ten-minutes to do a regular shortish-haircut with a part on the side and a little pompadour in front. I'm thinking he'll hate it but he looks at himself in the mirror and says, "Yeah, okay. I look like the owner of the garage now.
Thanks, Dylan." Huh, ya just never know about guys and their hair. He does look very nice with this haircut though. There's something about his shade of red hair and his pale creamy complexion that shows in between his freckles that's clean and cool looking. And of course, John looks about sixteen-years-old even though he has some pale-red beard here and there on his face.
After we clean-up the hair clippings, I put the barbering tools away and he asks, "Well, can we have a smoke now?" Glancing over at him, I'm like, "An actually smoke or a storage-room smoke?" He goes, "Storage room smoke first, and then the other kind." Trying not to grin, I go, "Oh, I suppose we can do that if you insist. Let's do it in the bedroom though, I feel exposed in the living room." As we walk down the short hall, he says, "You have condoms, right?" Oh fuck! I never remember to buy them. I'm making a 'face' at him, like...Ooops! Slowly shaking his head, he goes, "You forgot again, didn't you?" I nod, "Yeah, but I've got a good lubricant." He shrugs, "I'm good with that. We did it bareback in Worcester and I didn't get the clap."
I go, "You should worry about something worse than the clap, John." He mutters, "No shit, but not with you." I don't know how he knows that, but he's right. It's another freak-of-nature thing with me I guess. I've never caught anything from anybody. Hell, if I didn't get some disease from fat Carl and his cousin I never will.
John says, "As horny and anxious as I am to do this, I'm also worried your boyfriend might drop in on us. What I'm saying is, let's do a quickie.
We'll get our rocks off fast and then I can relax." I mumble, "You're in charge, John. Whatever you say." He goes, "Since I'm in-charge, considering that
energetic earlier spanking you got earlier, I'll skip the spanking entirely." I go, "Whatever you say," and then drop my pants. John hesitates, then says, "Hmmm, you know what? Let me try sucking your dick, okay? I did it the first time we had sex and while driving over here I was thinking I'd like to try that again." I shrug, "Sure, be my guest."
No hesitation on his part John goes down on his knees, picks up my cock and strokes it twice and then suck's it into his mouth. He doesn't scrap his teeth on it like Pony does but it's still obvious John's inexperienced.
He's half-slurping and half-licking it. More than anything he's generating lots of saliva and some of it is running down his chin. The sporadic stimulation on my cock isn't exactly a big turn-on but what is a turn-on is the serious expression on his face and the fact he seems to be trying his best to do a good job of sucking cock. He's not succeeding unfortunately but the good intentions are there. Also, I'd normally be running my fingers through the hair of someone who's sucking me off except after John's haircut I needed to use hair gel to get his untrained-hair to lay over. So, ya know, I don't want to mess with its now. I'm attracted to the natural texture of guy's hair, not hair with gunk in it. And why I'm attracted to guys' hair in the first place I have no clue. It's a mystery that perhaps a few years of being psychoanalyzed might shed some light on, but since I'm not going to do that I'll never know why I have this fetish.
Even though John's doing an unorthodox job of sucking my cock his mouth is warm and wet and when he does use his tongue it finally produces the desired effect and my dick hardens-up. If there's a next time I'll suggest he stroke it while slobbering on it. John takes my cock from his mouth and holds it between his thumb and forefinger looking up at me, asking, "How was that, Dylan?" I grin and offer encouragement, "Awesome job, John." He nods, "Yeah, I thought so myself," and he gets back up on his feet and drops his pants, saying, "Your turn."
I get a boner wherever I'm sucking a guy's cock but John does not apparently so I drop to my knees and basically demonstrate how to suck cock.
Unfortunately, I don't think John's paying attention to anything except how good it feels. His eyes are closed and his head's back while he quietly moans and pulls my hair. He's got a hair-pulling thing going for him. I wonder if that's a fetish? There are ten million fetishes, some even stranger than mine, so yeah, pulling hair could easily be one.
In less than a minute I stroke and suck a hard boner on his nice penis and I was taking my time doing it because it's sexy sucking a guy's dick.
Unused to having his cock sucked John responded quickly but I continued sucking it even after it got hard while hearing a lot of quiet moaning from John.
Just before taking it out of my mouth a long slurp of pre-cum drooled out on my tongue. Swallowing the tasteless pre-cum I take his boner from my mouth and it's a damn nice-looking one sticking tightly straight out from his pubic hairs. It's cut with a pale pinkish skin color on the shaft and rosy-red head, or glans as the head is called in medical circles. The head is narrow and comes to a rounded point for easy penetration. Larger helmet-shaped penis-heads and the large mushroomed-shaped-cock-heads feel sensational in my rectum but they also can cause some serious initial pain, although usually the hurt doesn't last very long and then the ensuing pleasure is significantly better than you get from smaller cock heads, or that's how it works for me anyway. John's so-called pencil-shaped cock is a very good one for recreational side-sex which often is fast and results in quick pleasurable orgasms. Tracy is the master of the quick-orgasm fuck. One or two minutes with him and it's bombs away, boom! Unfortunately, Tracy is presently back to fucking girls.
Getting up on my feet, I say, "You've got a really good penis for fucking, John, but it'll be even better with some lubricant." The lube is right here in the drawer of the bed-side table so I take out the KY container and get a big scoop on my finger to lubricate my asshole. John gets some and strokes it on his hard dick as he mumbles, "I've been curious about something, but afraid you'll think I'm a dork for asking. Um, I'll ask anyway since we're friends. How come I don't run into poop when I'm fucking you?" I go, "You would if I felt like I needed to poop, in which case I would take a crap before having sex. If the 'bottom' doesn't feel he needs to go, the fetal matter, sometimes referred to as 'shit', hasn't moved into the area of the rectum you're fucking." He goes, "Eww, but I'm glad I asked. Well, I don't think I could be 'bottom' anyway. I just wondered about that." Well how's he know he wouldn't like it if he never tries it? That's a subject for another time though.
All lubed-up, I ask, "How do you wanna do this?" He rubs under his nose with his forefinger and then says, "Jeez, I liked that doggy thing we did in Worcester." I get on my hands and knees as he chuckles, "I feel a little dominant when you're on all fours waiting for me to fuck you." He's behind me spreading his legs and bending his knees a little, murmuring, "You've got a pretty ass, Dylan," and then he plugs the head of his cock in past my sphincter muscle and I grunt, "Umpth!" not expecting the quick entry. Then I go, "That felt good." He mutters, "I'll say," and humps his boner three inches inside me as I grunt again. John gets his fingers around the front of my
thighs and pulls me back onto the rest of his hard cock making me shudder a little as pleasure sensations awaken in my rectum. The tight lips of my anus strips-off some of the extra lubricant from his boner and as the lube warms it drools from around my asshole down behind my scrotum tickling a little as it pools down there.
It's always exciting anticipating orgasm and that goes way back to my childhood. Right after my balls dropped I discovered jerking-off. It was thrilling fun back then knowing all I had to do was stroke my awesome penis and it'd get hard, and by continuing to stroke it...OMIGOD! Climaxing gooey orgasms left me breathless with awesome sensations rattling my brain taking me
to a place I didn't know existed... ecstasy! It's not a lot different now.
With John's cock up my ass I have the same anticipation of impending climax only I don't need to stroke my penis. I can't say the climaxes are more spectacular now then back then because the newness of climaxing back then distorts how awesome they were in my mind. Time has exaggerated the awesomeness of early jerk-off climaxes. For me there are degrees of climax awesomeness depending on circumstances, size of the boner, and who I'm doing the sex act with.
With John Smith I usually have a medium-thrilling climax. Presently jerk-off climaxes, which I rarely have needed to do since discovering I'm gay, are now the least thrilling of all climaxes. During the past six-to-nine months the best most delicious climaxes have been with Rob because there's true love involved. My most earth-shattering climaxes were with Ryan when he was doing those too-short haircut on me and then doing his no-nonsense hard and rough version of sub/dom sex. Those climaxes were roller-coaster-thrill-ride climaxes that could almost pop my eyeballs out of their sockets. With Ryan though it was pure sex with nothing except lust involved. So the levels of intense climaxes vary between jerking-off at the low end and the luxurious sex with my true lover, Rob, at the top. I've experience many levels of climax thrills and again, like I always say, the worst one was really good. All climaxes are special in some way for various reasons.
John Smith's nice straight, not especially skinny, pencil-dick feels good inside me and he's doing what he usually does: after penetration, he'll hump against my butt cheeks and then lift his hips so his hard boner pulls up on my rectum and I go up on my toes a little when standing. On all fours like I am today it makes me lift off my knees a little. In both cases, it's almost an involuntary response to what I perceive as a dominant act on John's part showing me who's in charge of our sex.
After a minute-or-two of that deliberate thrusting he adjust the position of his feet, gets a good hold on my hips and begins hammering his cock back and forth in my rectum igniting a million nerve endings and those babies are all about giving sexual pleasure. John's still pretty much of a novice and I sometimes get the sense that he's basically jerking himself off in my ass, but that's okay. The whole purpose of buddy-side-sex is to get yourself off and experience the thrill of climax. And the thrill is always higher when doing it with a buddy or lover. Both buddy-sex partners during sex care about their own climax about 95% of the time and the other 5% they hope their buddy enjoys it too. That's just how it is and I'm totally on-board with that. The exception to that 95/5 split for me is the rare occasions some lad asks me to break his cherry, so to speak. In those instances, I'm honored to have the privilege and therefore I care mostly that the cherry-boy has 95% of the pleasure because it's their first time and I want to do it good for them. There's been some sweet boys who I've had the pleasure of sharing that experience with. For some reason, they chose me to be their first. Virgin gay boys rock! Legal age virgins hopefully.
When John gets into it I hear my favorite sound which is the "Slapslapslap," music of two guys fucking, With John those slapping sounds are heard along with the moans of arousal and sexual pleasure coming from him. It's not unusual at all for most guys to moans during sex. It's organic moaning in that they can't help but do it. I've never tried purposefully not to make the sounds and I don't believe it's possible not to moan along with pleasure from sex. The sounds vary with different guys. They go from heavy-noisy-breathing to some guys who over-do the groaning and moaning. Quiet moans with some heavy breathing coming from my sex partner turns me on and adds to the sexual experience. Knowing how aroused my sex partner gets from sharing my body is sexually hot to me.
Right now John's almost-six-inches of hard cock is tightly but smoothly sliding to and fro in my rectum feeling so good it makes me suck on my lips.
Anal sex for me is a unique type of pleasure unmatched by anything else I've experienced although it's impossible to describe. Mother Nature's provided so many nerve endings in the rectum it's almost like anal fucking is what She had in mind. I've never had sex with a female but I've read about it compared to anal sex. The vagina has a hard bone or surface that stimulates the penis at entry but once inside the vagina it's all mushy. Ha ha, some bisexual guys might describe it differently, but that's what I read. With anal intercourse, there's a much tighter sensation on the entire penis and not just the one spot in a vagina. Anyway I think sexual pleasure occurs as much between the ears as it does between the legs. For gay guys like myself, I can't imagine anything coming close to the pleasure of having either oral or anal sex with another guy.
Presently I'm enjoying the fast hard thrusting by John. His grunts and low moans are becoming more frequent now as his sexual arousal builds towards orgasm. There's increasing intensity in the sensations coming off his penis the more he thrusts and as climax approaches the more desperate he is to get there so everything gets going even faster and harder. I'm feeling my orgasm building too and I'm shivering with anticipation and excited about it like always. And, at the same time, I'm conflicted because I love how it feels being fucked up the ass but I also am looking forward to my orgasm exploding even though that ends the great feeling of being fucked. I know what a star-burst of pleasure climax is so I mostly want that to happen.
Afterwards I'll wish the sex act could have going on longer. It's one of those deals where I want my cake and eat it too.
John's doing his desperate grunting now as he humps against my buttocks and I know what that means; for him his climax has reached the boiling point.
I'm waiting for his final few humps against my ass with no withdrawals, just humping against me with his gasping whining-sounding-breaths and then I feel his hard stream of cum hit inside my bowels. I shake while tightening every muscle I have, thrusting my hips and as colored lights go off in my head I hear my own squeal with cum sizzling up from my nuts to fly up my hard boner tantalizing the nerve endings as the steam of semen is free of me.
With me on all fours and my boner tight against my belly when that first long string of creamy jism shoots straight out it clips my chin on its way to nowhere. My shoulders shudder as another streak of cum flies out and then a few spurts of cum cause a fireworks sensation all over me and my face scrunches-up as I'm savoring the few seconds left of intense climax sensations. Another shake of my body and I grab my cock to stroke it tightly, holding my breath as spikes of pleasure hit all around my rectum and groin and then, Ooooh, oooh, ooh." It's over for me but it was really good. They're all really good.
I hear John gasp as he's pulling his cock from my ass, murmuring, "Jesus, that felt awesome. Oh man..." and he steps back bumping into my desk, then pulls the chair over and sits on it breathing deeply. His cum runs out of my ass although not nearly the volume I thought I felt shoot up inside me.
Blowing out air, he goes, "Damn, that felt good. Wow, I can hardly believe what I've been missing before meeting you... fuuuuck." I'm on my feet mumbling, "Good sex, John. Um, pass me that box of tissue." He hands me the box and I wipe my cum-dripping ass as he asks, "Did, um, you get off good, Dylan?" Always there's the fishing for compliments from my 'tops'. I chuckle, "Yeah, John, like I just mentioned, you fuck really good. I'm enamored of your penis." He goes, "Seriously, is my dick too small? I mean compared to others you may have, um, had sex with?" I chuckle again, "Are you implying I fuck around a lot?" He shrugs, "More than me at least and I'm jealous of that. You're definitely way more experienced than me so how's my dick stack-up against others?" I go, "Jesus, John, I don't know what else I can say. I told you I like your penis. It fucks really good and it's, um, a little fatter than some." It isn't really but what's the harm in building up his confidence. He goes, "Oh thanks! I guess most guys think they have a small dick, huh?" I nod, "Yeah, I guess. You're is very good though." Side-sex is a blast! You get your rocks off and then move on with some chit-chat.
The sex is over so John's moving on to other matters as he gets up, and says, "I want to look at my new haircut again," and he checks himself out in the mirror over the bureau. I go in the bathroom to wash my ass sticking the washcloth up my ass a bit thinking about having sex with Rob tonight. Oh boy, two times with John and then tonight with Rob.
Three-bagger-orgasm-days aren't very common for me of late. Hell, they haven't been for months now so I'll enjoy this one. John calls in to me, "Dylan, be honest, do you think this haircut looks okay on me?" I come out of the bathroom drying my ass, "Well of course I do, John, or I wouldn't have cut it that way. Do you want me to change it?" He goes, "Hell, no. I like it!" I mutter, "That's what matters most."
He's already pulled his pants up and I'm doing that too, saying, "Let's have the other kind of smoke now." We have a cigarette on the balcony and then John needs to get going to have dinner with his family. He still lives at home. I almost invite him to stay for dinner here but don't because I haven't seen much of Rob today and I'd like it to be just him and me tonight.
Yeah, if he doesn't bring anyone home with him that is. John takes off after encouraging me to have lunch at the bar again this week. I tell him honestly that I'll try but I'm not optimistic.
Waiting for Rob I'm lying on the sofa trying to think of another day that's been as busy or as eventful as this Tuesday has been. Then Rob's texts that he's on his way 'home'. Huh, I still can't come up with another day like today as I'm looking out the balcony glass doors watching Rob drive onto the parking lot alone. Good, he didn't bring anyone home with him. He sits at the bar with a beer watching me prepare our dinner of pork chops on the grill with scalloped potatoes and a salad. After dinner, we clean-up the kitchen together and then do our college reading assignments preparing for this week's two midterms.
Tonight's sex is slow and dreamy with Rob and me in bed at a little after ten o'clock. His boner feels different from John Smith's in all the best ways. I gave a thought to 'topping' again tonight, but Rob beat me to it and It's mostly what I wanted anyway. Sex is so much more meaningful with Rob.
It takes me higher and sometimes I get tears in my eyes at how wonderful it is having sex with him. Slow thrusting until I'm weak with desire. Rob's acting especially in-charge tonight telling me to change positions three times. The last position is me on my stomach with Rob into a harder faster fucking as his orgasm builds. I've got my head turned as much to the side as possible lying on my stomach watching Rob fuck me. The expression on his face just before his explosive climax is awesome. There's really nothing that can compare to this and then the hugging and cuddling afterward can be almost as awesome as the sex. It makes me feel wanted and loved and special.
What more could I ask for? That about covers what everyone needs.
Wednesday and Thursday go by with the only noteworthy differences from normal being we have our first two midterms. Both days seem almost boring compared to Tuesday but more relaxing too and then Friday we don't have classes so we can mess around in bed this morning. I end up fucking Rob imitating John Smith with those deliberate hard thrusts followed by the upward hump until my climax comes roaring on me and then it's hellbent-fast-fucking until WHAM! Rob and I climax together. Feeling sexually contented we have a light breakfast and do some advanced college related studying for next week's last two midterms.
Later we grab a McDonald's Big Mac for lunch after which I go to baseball practice with Rob and stay for the entire practice. After Rob showers in the locker room we go to a rare late afternoon movie and then eat out at Applebee's Restaurant, which is only okay food-wise. In bed that night I again do the topping and start to wonder if this is what Rob would have preferred during our four-years as boyfriends. Damn, I hope not! Before going to sleep, Rob murmurs, "Today was one of my favorite days this semester, Dylan.
We spent the entire day together." We're on our sides facing each other. Rob runs his fingers through my hair, mumbling, "Goddamn though, I should have given you a haircut today. How long has it been?" I shrug, "What difference does it make, Rob?" He goes, "No, seriously," and I go, "I don't know.
Four-or-five-weeks, maybe longer." He says, "Tomorrow for sure."
Saturday morning, we want pancakes for breakfast but don't feel like making then so we drive to Salem, New Hampshire for another Pancake House experience. Again we can't eat all the pancake, scrambled eggs, bacon, and home fries that are on the platters we order, but what we eat is really good. We slept late so we don't get done at the Pancake House until eleven o'clock which mean we won't need lunch today. Back at the apartment Rob says, "I've got time before practice so how about if you get out the barber equipment and I'll do your haircut." I go in the bedroom as Rob's pushing the kitchen table against the wall and then pulls a kitchen bar stool over near the living room carpet, but still on the kitchen tiles so it'll be easy sweeping up the cut hairs.
I don't like the barber cape so I take my shirt off and tell Rob, who has a comb in one hand and the thinning scissors in the other, "You don't need to use those thinning scissors every fucking time, Rob. Not with regular length hair like I have now." He combs up my bangs, saying, "The longer hairs on your head are about three-inches-long and I think that's too long, babe, and anyway I like using these thinning scissors." I ask, "Why?" and he goes, "Because they eliminate the wave in your hair on top. The hair on the sides are too short for any wave to show." He's jealous of my wavy hair but that's the end of that discussion as he closes the thinning scissors twice on my bangs; once an inch up from my scalp and a second time an inch from the top. There's clogged cut hairs in the teeth of both the comb and and the teeth of the thinning scissor. I go, "Or you can use them if you want."
He laughs, "Oh, you were serious? You didn't want me to use these scissors?"
I shrug, "What the fuck... you're my barber so you decide." He mumbles, "You have dense hair, Dylan," justifying the thinning scissor usage. Rob combs up a batch of hair back from the bangs and does the same thing, "Scrunch, scrunch". He continues cutting and thinning over the entire top of my head. Well, I got a boner out of it anyway.
When he's finished doing that Rob casually combs through the hairs on top of my head and gets another fully clogged bunch of cut hairs in the teeth of the comb. He does it again and the hair on top of my head sticks up. The three-inch hairs that survived the thinning he cuts down to two-inches using regular scissors. Then he combs the hair over to the side and says, "It lies nicely to the side without a single wave. Perfect." I roll my eyes as he puts a quarter-inch guide on the clippers and begins tapering at my neck's hair-line. The hand-held mirror is within reach so I pull it off the kitchen bar and look at my hair. It's looks fine if you like short blond hair that's lying over perfectly. The thinning makes it stay almost stiffly in-place. Looking at the reflection of my hair in the mirror I get this goofy thought and ask, "How come we don't have two-tone blond hair like we used to have?" He goes, "Because we're older and the light blond streaks got darker, but maybe we'll get some lighter streaks this summer being out in the sun." I go, "We sound gay talking about our hair like this, ya know." He takes the clippers, with a half-inch guide on it now and runs the clippers halfway up the back of my head, muttering, "You brought it up."
I complain about Rob's haircutting but it's actually not bad. He mostly does it the way he likes my hair to look and I actually like this length hair. I mean when compared to those six or seven months last spring until the end of August when Ryan was doing my haircut, this is looooong hair on my head now. Plus I had the really long hair hanging in my eyes for a while and that was a bit of a pain-in-the-ass too.
Rob's slow; he takes a long time with the haircut but that's not a complaint. His cutting and combing is hypnotic and peaceful and gets my fetish buzzing around down near my balls. I like him fussing with my hair. Also, like with everything he does, he's very conscientious about getting it right.
As he perceives 'right' anyway. And this time there are less "Oops" from Rob than last time. Finally he finishes by using trimming clippers to outline around and behind my ears. I'm looking at the finished haircut in the mirror and can't honestly find significant fault with anything. Now if he'd give me a hard fucking after this haircut it'd be close to perfection. Ya know, first my haircut fetish and then hot sex! Oh boy, that really is all I could ask for. Unfortunately for me he took so long doing the haircut we don't have time for the hard fuck. He has to run off to baseball practice.
He stays to help clean up the hair and clean the clippers before leaving, asking, "How do you think I did, Dylan?" I go, "You're getting as good as I knew you'd be, Rob. Nice fucking job, dude." He tries not to grin but he does anyway 'cause he's pleased with himself and happy I like what he did.
He gives me a big hug, saying, "I really like doing it for you too. Glad you like it." I mutter, "Yep, nice haircut." Rob's getting his glove and baseball spikes, asking, "Do you wanna come with me again today and watch practice for a while, Dylan?" I go, "Nah, not today. I'm going to stay in the apartment admiring my new haircut." He goes, "Ya goof, come with me." So I do.
At the ballpark, he gives me the keys to the pickup and then goes through the 'Players Only' entrance, saying, "Stay a while. I like seeing you in the stands. When you leave though could you get a case of beer using our food-fund-money? We're out of beer. Oh, and get bottle of bourbon too." I go, "Sure thing. I'll probably watch practice for an hour or so. It's nice out here today." Then I wander in the general admission entrance. It cost nothing to watch practice and, like I said, it's a fairly nice day. Still a bit nippy but the sun is out so it's almost warm sitting in the sun. There's twenty-five-to-thirty students in the stands with me. They're mostly girls watching their boyfriends, just like I'm doing. I forgot to bring my sunglasses or a hat though, so after a half-hour I take off. Couldn't see Rob most of the time anyway because he was in the outfield shagging flies. His freshman backup is fielding grounders at shortstop which probably pisses Rob off, but you do what the coaches tell you.
With the pickup's engine idling, I sit here and text Pony. He texts back that he's with his roommate at the Peabody Mall buying sneakers and then they're driving to the Haverhill Lanes to bowl candlepins with guys from their dorm. He tells me to meet him there but I don't want to bowl with a bunch of sophomores, especially ones I don't fucking know. I text him a modified version of that and he texts back that his nip-ring still hurts. Like it's my fucking fault! Then I text Chub, but his phone is turned off, or more likely he didn't charge it. It's two o'clock as I drive to McLoon's package store for beer and bourbon. To kill some time after that I stop in at the Quad. Walking from the parking lot I'm thinking how good it is I don't need to look over my shoulder every few seconds expecting Peter the gorilla to jump me.
In the Quad I buy a Coke and a slice of pizza and sit at a table with Steve Church and his new roommate, who he introduces to me as Nick Leopold.
Nick is so average looking he could be the poster boy for average. Brown hair and eyes about five-feet-eight-inches tall and about a-hundred-and-fifty pounds. He doesn't have an average personality though. Very excitable about every-fucking-thing anyone says. Plus, he's the one-upmanship type. If I went to Key West, he went to Cuba on a business trip with his dad. If I have a 3.0 GPA he has a 3.2... and so forth.
I'm trying to ask questions about Steve's old roommate, Ryan, and Nick's butts-in, "Yeah, Steve told me that guy was a real prick there at the end, but last year I had a roommate who was stealing shit from me. I'd catch him at it and he'd swear on a stack of Bibles the stuff he stole from me is his. Big asshole too so I was at a distinct disadvantage." I'm like, "Jesus, Nick, that sucks, dude. Um, Steve, have you heard anything from your old roomie?" He shakes his head, "Nah, not a peep outta him but I don't want to hear from him anyway. He's a liar and a prick although I didn't even realize it until the last couple of days before Christmas break." Nick goes, "I knew this guy in high school who...." I'm finished my slice of pizza looking at my watch, then I go, "Oh fuck, I gotta pick up my roommate." Nick's like, 'You still wear a wristwatch? My old man says guys who wear a watch...."
Jesus! As I get up I pat Steve's shoulder, "Good luck with everything." He grins, "I got no luck, except the bad kind." We're both referring to Nick of course. I shrug and make my way out of there.
Back at the apartment I watch a preseason Red Sox game while lying on the sofa and dozing off every now and then. Rob finally texts that he's ready to go. After picking him up we eat dinner at the apartment and then meet Chubby, John Beverly, Golden, Danny Monday and his roommate Phil Catchings, and the recently barbered Lawyer Ross at Joe Blair's bar where we drink beer and play pool until closing. Saturday nights Chubby often has a date with one of two girls he's dating this year, but some Saturday nights he likes a boys' night out. We're all legal age now except Golden and he has primo fake ID so there's almost always drinking involved with whatever we do on Saturday nights and then Rob and I will go four or five nights a week without anything alcoholic to drink, or maybe one beer to be sociable depending on who we're with. Chubby tells me there's a lot more drinking going on in the dorms then goes on in our apartment.
After drinking the night away Rob and I don't have sex. Instead we crash in bed and go to sleep. Sunday we've got hangovers although not killer ones because we stuck to beer exclusively while shooting pool. We lay around all day in the apartment fitting in three awesome making love episodes catching-up for missing-out last night. 'Making love' is of course the euphemisms for fucking, but actually there's more to it than just fucking when Rob and I do it. Side-sex is just fucking. When lovers are fucking it really is making love. There's a humongous difference.
Nothing much happens Monday and then Tuesday except while Rob was at practice Pony and I got together for our buddy-sex and then we hung around the apartment bantering back and forth about this and that. He's telling me how guys were impressed with his flattop haircut and would I give a few of his sophomore friends haircuts? I beg off because doing flattops is tedious. It
does not allow for any mistakes, plus I'm doing as many haircuts as I care to do. Pony's hanging on me nagging but I'm not giving in. Then I remembered my match-making idea for Pony and John Smith. Awesome idea! I asked Pony if he'd be interested in meeting someone who might be a possible buddy-sex partner for him. Before I can even describe John Smith, Pony emphatically informs me he doesn't want any part of it and then he acts jealous accusing me of having sex with John. Of all the fucking nerve! I try doing him a solid and he turns on me. He gets real pissy and walks back to the dorm refusing my offer to drive him. Obviously, there's no sense even mentioning the possibility to John Smith who I bet would have jumped at the chance. I guess it's okay with Pony that Rob and me have sex, but Pony needs to be my only sex-buddy. Fuck, Rob and I know we're anomalies as far as us being okay with some discrete side-sex and I'm also aware that most people insist on monogamist relationships. Most, but not everybody. The more enlightened of us can compartmentalize sex. I'm gonna do some research on non-monogamist relationships when I get a chance.
Pony texts me while Rob and I are studying for our last midterm on Thursday. He wants to know if we can get together Friday and I tell him, "
Probably." He apparently is over his little hissy-fit and I'm happy about that. I mean, Tuesday with Pony was the only side-sex I've had all week. Tuesday, we took one of the last two midterm exams and then instead of doing the last one on Thursday the professor re-scheduled the mid-term to our free day: Friday. Inconsiderate asshole! So I can't get together with Pony and I really wanted to. He was pouting when I talked to him on the phone but what can I do? And then that weekend Rob and I went to a frat party on campus where only beer and wine is being served. It was okay but I realized during the night that I'm getting sick of college. I got sick of it last year during last semester too. So now I've got half a semester to go and the thought of all those hours in class and all the studying and workbooks and papers pertaining to shit I'll never use in my life... well, it all seems overwhelming. It's the cumulative effect. Even frat parties are becoming monotonous and repetitive. I don't know... maybe I'm just a little depressed about, well I don't know what. Why would I be depressed? Having all of this frat party I can stand I got the Jeep keys off Chub and tell Rob I'm leaving early. After assuring him I'm fine Rob says he'll see me back at the apartment. He's having a good time. He's not bored with college because it's baseball season. Rob and some of his teammates are drinking and analyzing the team's chances of making the playoffs this year. Good for them.
After driving to the apartment I realize I don't want to go to bed so I text Pony. He's in the Quad with some of his dormitory friends. I arrange to meet him outside the Quad and when I get there Pony's acting kind of shy.
We're just sitting in the idling Jeep. He's quiet and when I mess his hair to get a rise out of him he leans against me, murmuring, "Don't mess my flattop, okay? I like it." I take out my pocket comb and comb the front hairs up straight again. I gave him a longish flattop in case he wanted to comb it down on top and flip the bangs but he's been using a hair product that has his hair trained to stick straight up. Getting my hand behind his neck I shake his head gently saying, "I may not have mentioned this before, Pony, but I really am extremely fond of you." He looks me in the eyes, murmuring, "Yeah, I know you are. Um, sorry I acted like a cunt the other day." I frown, "You acting like a cunt? I've never seen that. You must be thinking about someone else." He shrugs, "Thanks. Yeah, it probably was with someone else." To cheer him up I tell him I've reconsidered and I will do haircuts for one or two of his friends. He perks-up but reminds me none of them has a clue Pony's gay so he implores me not to even hint that he is. I drive us behind Stop & Shop where Dennis and I screwed in his box truck a couple of weeks ago.
We get in the back seat and after messing around a little, Pony goes, "Okay, you're obviously being nice trying to make-up with me about that guy you're screwing around with. To show you what kind of forgiving guy I am I'm going to reluctantly forgive you. And to prove it, I'm going to let you kiss me a few times." I'm like, "I'm not in the kissing mood, Pony, but I'll give you an extra hard spanking." He goes, "Goddammit! I'm saying it's okay for you to make-out with me like you always want to do and you're not taking me up on my once in a lifetime fucking offer." I mutter, "Yeah, well I didn't take you up on the last time you gave me the same once in a lifetime offer." He laughs out loud, then says, "You're doing excellently in your endeavor to become the biggest prick at Merrimack."
I make-out with him a little until he murmurs, "You were right from the start, Dylan. You're always right." I ask, "Right about what?" He licks across my lips and grins, saying, "About good gay friends making-out. I've got a boner in my pants that's so hard I could scratch a message on a tree truck with it." I say, "Instead of doing that why don't you pull down your pants." When he does that, I get him to lie across my lap and spank his ass until both cheeks shine like red traffic lights and then turn him over and fuck him silly. Great fucking climax too! Afterward we cleaned-up with Kleenex tissues with me wiping at the stain on my jeans where Pony's pre-cum drooled out during his spanking. With our pants pulled up we talk until two o'clock in the morning. He says he loves me and I say, "Right back at you, dude." He goes, "Not like that. You know what I fucking mean!". Damn, he's a good kid.
Rob's sleeping when I finally get in bed so it's a good thing I got my rocks off earlier with Pony. Funny that after hooking-up with Pony I'm not as bored with college as I was earlier. Anyway, that takes care of our midterms and Rob's spring baseball practice too. The real games begin now and Rob's going on an overnight trip to Macon, Georgia. Yeah, Georgia of all places. The team will play two conference games that will count in the standings. I Googled Macon to see how far it is from Marietta, Georgia. That's Ryan's hometown of course, and it's almost a hundred-miles away. I'm not going on the trip anyway, but it's ironic Rob's first baseball games are only a hundred miles from where Ryan lives in Georgia.
Hey, maybe it's Rob's baseball involvement that makes me feel depressed at times. That's all he was talking about at Saturday's frat party. And I'm never a lot depressed, and not all the time, but sometimes I'm in a funk, that's all. Fact is, if I ever gave Rob the ultimatum of 'It's baseball or me, Rob,' I'm afraid what his answer would be. I'd never do that though because it's not fair. We have our arrangement and baseball is part of it just like side-sex is, for now at least. I have faith in our arrangement. As an example of that I openly told Rob about being with Willie when Rob was away on business that time. I told him about Willie's Grandfather dying and how upset Willie was. Rob asked me some questions about what Willie and I did and I told him I stayed with Willie that night. We don't discuss side-sex hardly at all so that was the end of that discussion. He told me a little about his business trip but I didn't pry for details about what he did after work. For all I know his roommate wasn't a disgusting fat slob but rather a sexy hot-to-trot gay guy. Fair is fair. I actually don't believe his roommate was a sexy hot-to-trot gay guy... I'm just saying if he was, then good for Rob.
So, the beginning of the week is the start of the second half of the semester and now it's Thursday the 20th of March at two o'clock in the afternoon. Rob's packing for the away games in Georgia and he's acting really excited about it too. His child-like excitement is contagious and I'm very happy for him. I'm helping him pack as he tells me he's starting both games at shortstop, but there's that freshman back-up shortstop who is very good.
According to Rob this kid is playing out-of-his-ass and over-his-head trying to take the starting spot in the lineup from Rob. That's Rob's competition, and I pray to God the guy sprains his ankle or breaks something because if he won the shortstop job from Rob it'd be the first time since middle school Rob wasn't in the starting lineup on whatever team he's been on. Well, in high school he was a star pitcher too. Anyway, I don't think Rob would handle losing his starting spot on the team very well. I don't say it, but so much for Rob's idea of proving he was being 'just one of the guys' getting those terrible haircuts from Golden. As far as the freshman shortstop's concerned Rob could get his haircut by a homeless person. That kid's after the starting shortstop position on the team and as far as he's concerned fuck a whole bunch of haircuts! First there's a bus ride to Logan Airport and then they'll fly to an airport in Georgia that's like seventy-five miles from Macon. So that's another longish bus ride. There's also another college going to Macon for games that the Merrimack team will play. Next month those same college baseball teams play games here at Merrimack. I drive Rob to the baseball park where the bus is idling, waiting for the players to get on. Naturally Rob's here fifteen-minutes ahead of time and I can see he wants to commiserate with his teammates so I pat his back and tell him, "Good luck, Rob. Hit a homer for me." We did our hugging and kissing 'goodbye' at the apartment. We're not so 'out' we'd do it in front of the team. That'd be obnoxious of us.
I hang around on the periphery of the players in case Rob forgot something that I could drive back and get for him, but the bus takes off without Rob needing anything. I drive back to the apartment to hang-out. Lying on the sofa I'm like, 'So I've got Thursday night and all day Friday and Saturday on my own'. That sounds great except John Smith works and Pony has classes on Fridays; two of them. Well it's not all about having sex anyway. I could just hook-up and have bull-shit sessions with Chubby except he and John Beverly are in Boston again with some girls doing whatever it is they do. Not feeling the Quad I'm thinking about doing the laundry when my cellphone beeps. Caller ID shows it's a text from Dennis Raymond. Holy shit! The bakery delivery guy! I was just thinking about him when Pony and I fucked behind Stop & Shop. I like Dennis and his big dick.
His text reads: 'I finally got this route and I'm finished early again.
Are you free?' I've gotta think about this for a minute before deciding if I'm free or not. I mean, obviously I couldn't be more free but do I want to do it with him again? And do I want to chance doing it in his truck behind Stop & Shop like last time? Well, we don't need to do it in the truck. We could come here except,: do I want Dennis knowing where I live? Why do I care if he knows where I live? Shit, what do I wanna do? And how many questions have I asked myself in the last minute, with this being another one? Balls! Not too long ago I wouldn't be hesitating; I'd just meet him. Getting old isn't all it's cracked-up to be. There, I didn't ask myself a question...
There's his phone number so I call it and tell him to come to the apartment. He obviously knows the apartment complex because he's driving on route 114 all the time when he has this delivery route. I give him directions to my building and as I'm waiting for him I'm remembering his odd story of being tossed out on the street by his 'rents after graduating high school, and Dennis with a 3.8 GPA too. Jesus! They threw him out because he wouldn't lie and say he's no longer homosexual. The parents sent him to a psychiatrist weekly for the last year-and-a-half of high school but the doc couldn't talk him out of what Dennis knew in his brain was true. He's a nice looking guy in a conventional way, meaning he's not cute per se. He's pleasant looking with soft blue eyes and a very nice smile and grin. Dennis is four inches taller than me with an okay build. He was clean-shaven when I last saw him and he had all that long white-blond hair in front while the rest of his hair was about one-inch long. Weird hairdo! Looking out the sliding glass doors I see his box truck with 'ITALIO'S BAKERY' in big letters on the side. Going out on the balcony I watch Dennis get out of the truck and look around. He's parked illegally near a fire hydrant. "Yo, Dennis," and he looks around and then up at me and waves. Nice smile! I yell down to him, "The door to the right of this balcony. I'll buzz you in. I'm on the first floor." He yells, "This is very nice of you, Dylan." He has the hat on he was wearing at Captain's Pizza where I met him.
After buzzing the back door open I wait for him in the hall thinking how I just recently went through this with John Smith. Dennis comes through the doors from the stairs and strides down the hall to give me a hug. He's tall! "Dylan, this is awesome you." I smile to myself noticing that Dennis' clothes smell like bread while John's smell like automobile tires.
We go inside and he goes through the routine of, "Wow, this is a nice place you got here, Dylan." I go, "Thanks. My roommate and I share the place but he's away for the weekend." Dennis, who graduated high school the same year I did, gives me a grin, muttering, "I was wondering about the roommate, but figured he must be out if you invited me over." There's something different about him and then I'm like, "You got your new tooth in front." He nods and points to a bottom tooth, saying, "This one. It's an implant. The only thing that hurt was the needles before the dentist started." I go, "I can't tell the difference from your other teeth." He takes a deep breath, then grins saying, "I'm a little nervous," and he does a nervous chuckle. I go, "No reason to be. Take your hat and coat off. Um, not to hurry you but I know ya gotta get the truck turned-in by four o'clock." It's only ten-after-three so we don't actually need to rush that much.
He takes his hat off and my eyes bug-out a little. The long blob of white-blond hair that hung on his forehead last time I saw him is now a quarter-inch long. I sort of point, "Um, your..." and he covers the front of his head with his hand blushing a bright red. "It looks stupid, doesn't it? I told Wayne it was too long and he took scissors and cut the bangs back to my scalp. It's grown out a quarter-inch since then." The hair on the rest of his head is the same length it was the last time I saw him, which is about an inch. I'm like, "Was he pissed-off or something?" He shrugs, "Who knows with Wayne. I just mentioned it was longish and he got up from his chair, grabbed a pair of scissors and cut it all off." I go, "What'd you say?" He makes a 'face', "I said nothing. What could I say?" I mumble, "Well that guy is a total asshole for doing that." Dennis mumbles, "I know."
It's a little awkward now. I say, "I cut hair, Dennis. Would you like me to even it all into a buzzcut?" He shakes his head, "No, um, thank you. Let sleeping dogs lie, ya know?" I nod, "Are you happy there with, um, what'd you say his name is?" He goes, "It's Wayne, and yes I'm okay." I'm like, "You sure?" and he nods and does a fake grin. What the fuck? I shouldn't get involved so I mumble, "Well, ah, let's go in my bedroom."
As we walk down the hall, Dennis asks, "Is it okay if we do it like last time?" I'm like, "Sure. Is that how you always do it?" He goes, "No, not always. It depends on my partner. The week after you and I had sex in the truck I got horny thinking about that and how awesome it was doing it with someone my own age. I went online to the escort service I use and hired, I guess you'd call it hired, a twenty-four-year-old guy and we did it lying down.
Oh man though, he was a screamer and demanded an extra fifty buck from me because my dick's so big." That's so sad for Dennis that he needs to pay for it. I go, "Why not try picking up someone in a gay bar?" He's taking his pants off, saying, "I do that sometimes too but it's time consuming and not
usually very successful. The guys I want aren't interested in me and the older men I don't want are interested, ya know?" No I don't know, but I say. "Well forget about that for now."
He's got his pants and underpants off going through his pants pocket, for a condom would be my guess. I'm staring at his penis thinking it didn't look that big last time. It's only as long as mine but probably gets longer when hard, and the girth is amazing. I'm thinking the diameter has gotta at least four-inches. It must be uncomfortable between his legs twenty-four/seven. Yeah well I've read where some guys 'fist' their sex partner's ass and a fist is usually bigger than four-inches in diameter so the rectum is more flexible than most people would believe. Dennis' cock is probably the largest I'd be brave enough to have a go at, while sober anyway. He stands there asking, "You going to drop your pants, Dylan?" I'm like, "Oh, ha ha, yeah, of course," and quickly do that as Dennis says, "If you don't mind I'm taking my shirt off too. The tails get in the way." I shrug, "Go ahead." What the fuck, I take my sweatshirt off too. I only had socks on my feet when he came in and now I'm naked except for the socks. He still has a t-shirt on.
Dennis waits for me to start us off, so I go, "I wouldn't mind giving that pecker of your's a suck or two." His eyebrows shoot up, "Really? You'd suck my dick?" I go, "Sure, why not?" He takes another one of his deep breaths and lets it out nosily, mumbling, "That'd be great." I drop to my knees in front of him and the first thing I do is test his scent by inhaling as I pick-up his large organ. There's nothing but a neutral smell coming from Dennis. The head of his cock is a mouthful for sure. Mostly I can only lick it because my teeth would come into play if I tried sucking on it. I'm sure some guys could handle it but I can't. I lick the head and stroke the shaft and in about a minute it starts getting hard. Taking it out, I'm like, "Heh heh, that's a mouthful. Um, I just wanted to get you started." He goes, "Thanks," and strokes it tightly scrunching his face making a wheezing sound drawing air in between closed lips. Damn that big cock is getting hard now and it really looks formidable. I stare for a second before coming to my senses and get up off my knees as he rolls a condom on his huge boner, saying, "This condom is extra large with extra lube for comfort." I go, "Uh huh," and turn around. Right away I feel the nipple of the slippery condom drag across my left butt cheek and then poke my asshole.
Dennis says, "Maybe you should bend over some more, Dylan." I lean over and hold onto the bureau. There's pressure on my anus now and it begins spreading open. Then some more spreading and then even some more. He's going in very slowly. It feels good being stretched like this back there and then with more spreading it stops feeling good and starts hurting. Dennis says, "The first half of the head is in so hold your breath because the fat part is coming next." Then I yell, "OH! SHIT!' and drop my head between my arms as the bulbous head squeezes in past my sphincter muscle and I see black dots for a few seconds. Really hurts! I'm holding my breath as tall Dennis rubs my shoulders, murmuring, "It'll be fine in a minute, Dylan." And he's correct. It starts feeling pretty good but being opened-up like this is a unique experience. I kinda like it, and say, "I'm good, Dennis," although it is still hurting.
He pushes some of the fat shaft in and there's some pain but I'm okay with it. My stretched anus is stripping most of the lube off the condom with every inch it goes up my ass. Denis is pushing it in slowly but not ultra slowly. It takes about thirty-seconds before I feel, first his pubic hairs tickling my butt cheeks, and two-seconds later he's is leaning tightly against my buttocks. I'm bent over quite a bit, my head just above my knees because I don't have much choice, that huge boner would bend me over whether I wanted to or not. Dennis has a hold of my hips and when he pulls his cock back out it feels like my bowels are pulling back out with it. Withdrawing all the way out except for the bulbous head that's captured around its neck by my really stretched asshole lips. Pulling back slightly more distends the lips as I gasp and then he pushes that very large hard boner back up my ass and my whole body shudders. Dennis murmurs, "Oh man, I love your ass, Dylan. Here we go," and he starts thrusting with lights blinking red in my brain and my asshole exploding with sizzling pleasure sensations from every single nerve ending all around and up and down my rectum. Nothing is missed by that moving enormously hard boner.
I'm squatting a little to ease the way for his big dick to make it's back and forth trip and it feels better this time then the time we did it in his truck. Maybe because I know it's not going to do any damage. Goddamn this feels good now that the hurt has faded away. I'm shuddering and shaking making Dennis chuckle and say, "I'm so happy you're enjoying this too, Dylan."
I must look like a dork in this bent-over squatting position but it the best position to get the most pleasure from his huge boner. He never gets going fast enough to create the normal sounds of males fucking. It kinda fast and very steady though and I get to moaning, "Ooh, ooh, ooh," making a bigger dork of myself but I can't help it. My cock quickly gets to sticking straight out, very hard and trembling. There's nothing overtly dominant about Dennis except his large cock. And his big organ is totally controlling me whether he knows it or not. My prostate button is slamming out pleasure like a screen door in a hurricane.
No matter that he's a meek and mild innocent lad, when ya have cock like Dennis it's automatically dominant once that boner's controlling you. I have no choice but be submissive and get in this odd position of almost doubling over. That's not a complaint though because I'm enjoying the hell out of it, and it's like four minutes of steady thrusting with Dennis letting go of me and just humping his hips sending his log of a boner up my ass and pulling it back as I sway forward and then get pulled backward with me constantly moaning, "Ooh, ooh, ooh," along with Dennis' noisy breathing. When he leans forward with the palms of his hands spread on my back he picks up the speed now and even with that soup-can-size boner he's got it's moving fast now and the, "Slapslapslap," sounds ring out at last. I'm in a blizzard of sexual sensations but I don't last thirty-seconds into his rapid thrusting before I squeal with cum shooting out of my steel boner sizzles in a fast streak to splatter between my feet. Another streak of cum and I'm shaking like a leaf in a storm. My whole body is alive with sensations and my rectum glows with pleasure but it's over in ten-seconds or so and now I'm a rag doll flopping against the bureau as Dennis continues pounding away.
It has to be two full minutes after I climaxed that he's making a high pitched, "Ahhhhh," squeal humping against my ass and filling the condom with his creamy goo." I'm holding onto the bureau for dear life while he finishes his climax. He gasps for air and then sort of laughs. Standing up straight he's pulling me up too, saying, "I had to laugh with joy because this was absolutely wonderful, Dylan. Your primo ass is really special." I'm nodding my head but can't stand completely up straight with his big cock still up my ass. As he pulls it out I'm going, "Oooooh, mmmm,' with my shoulders shuddering. That was pure sex and it's left me trembling a little. The weird open-ass feeling is slightly disturbing but I've had experience with it before and know it will be okay in a half-hour or so.
He's rubbing his face with both hands, mumbling, "Goddamn, that was choice. Thanks, Dylan. Dude, and you smell good too! Wow!" I'm smelling the back of my wrist still feeling sensations tingling in my rectum and feeling submissive to him still as I think about getting fucked with his giant boner.
Dennis is oblivious of my submissive sense that's still hanging on until he looks concerned, asking, "Um, are you okay?" I nod, "Yeah, but that was quite a workout. Felt really good though Dennis. You don't need to thank me."
He pulls his condom off with a golfball of cum at the bottom and we both walk bare-ass into the bathroom where he flushes the condom and I use a washcloth to wipe the lubricant off my ass.
My asshole is still wide open of course and when in the bedroom pulling my jockey shorts up I do it gently and notice some soreness around my anus and inside my rectum. Didn't feel the soreness last time but this fuck lasted at least twice as long as the first one. Dressed and sensing the submissive feeling slipping away finally I offer Dennis a beer but he's concerned about getting the truck back to the shop on time. We bump fist as he asks, "Can I text you again?" I go, "Sure Dennis. We're fuck-buddies now." He grins, "Thanks. I like the way that sounds, um, buddies." And that's it. He goes out and I assume gets the truck to the shop on time. I'd kind of like having a beer with him and finding out more about his situation at home with the weirdo, um, I forget his name again. Yeah except it doesn't seem Dennis is interested in anything but spending fifteen-minutes together for a six-to-seven-minute fuck.
Sitting down gently on the armchair I'm feeling okay. A little sore inside but that was a good climax, and Dennis is an interesting guy. He's a polite gentle guy, especially considering his size. I remember he said he played football and I think basketball all though high school and, like I said, he had almost a 4.0 GPA all four years and yet his parents still threw him out of the house because he's gay. Jesus! That blows! What kind of people do
that? Oh well, I don't know what I'm going to do tonight. It's a Thursday night and I've already been fucked, so maybe I'll stay in tonight. Just for the hell of it I have a beer by myself thinking about Rob and how he's still in the air flying to Georgia. I should have gotta a job with the baseball team like I thought I might try to do over Christmas break. I'm not sure if I were, I don't know, the team's mascot if I'd even go on away games. I wouldn't be a mascot anyway! I watch a sports talk radio show on TV for an hour and then flick off the TV wondering why they televise a radio show. It's three guys behind microphones talking. Dumb!
Not feeling like making dinner for myself I call in a pizza order and then go pick it up without seeing anyone I know. I drink a Pepsi while eating the pizza watching Sports Center on the small kitchen TV. Realizing I can't eat a whole pizza I wrap three slices in plastic, and as I'm putting it in the refrigerator my cellphone rings...
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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