DYLAN'S SUMMER FOLLOWING HIS COLLEGE JUNIOR YEAR
Chapter 33
by Donny Mumford
Hayden and I are standing naked in his bedroom. Its impossible for me not to gawk for a-second-or-two at Hayden's incongruously large penis hanging there innocently between his spindly, hairy legs... it's like someone's idea of a joke. A question I've had before immediately occurs to me: could Mother Nature have a sense of humor? I'm thinking specifically of Hayden's penis as compared to say, Tim's two-inch penis. Tim being the guy I met in Marietta, Georgia. He's a semi-goofy lad who fucked me very well with that two-inch penis, I don't know, maybe a dozen times. Not a large lad so his extra short penis, while extremely unusual, was perhaps less bizarre-looking than petite-Hayden's extra-large one.
But nah, I don't think Mother Nature has a sense of humor. As a matter of fact, I don't believe Mother Nature gives a flying-fuck about humans, period! No, I don't think it's about us at all!
Most people hearing or reading the term Mother Nature focus on the life-giving and nurturing aspects of 'nature'. Ah yes, wonderful Mother Nature providing this beautiful 'blue' marble in space as an ideal place for us to live. All the pretty flowers and waterfalls and la-de-da. That's all well and good but nature is much more than that. 'Nature' is the creative and controlling force in the universe. Nature has ultimate power over our human lives and of this planet's life, and She routinely throws seemingly random horrors at our blue marble. I'm referring to things like tsunamis, earthquakes, tidal waves, six-mile-wide meteors that crash into Earth killing all the lovely dinosaurs, among a billion other species, and there's also all those deadly diseases humans fight against constantly... and so many other horrible things that have tortured humans throughout our time here on Earth. So what shall we call that part of Nature?
Yeah well, this isn't the first time I've thought about what a bitch Mother Nature can be. The disparity of Hayden's huge penis and Tim's tiny one is just the latest thing that's set me off on a tirade about Her. I mean, what was Mother Nature thinking? Doesn't she know about high school gym classes and the lads being forced to take communal showers with heartlessly cruel teenage boys unmercifully mocking anything out of the ordinary? I'll tell you what Mother Nature knows... and what She was thinking about: nothing, that's what. Like I said, she doesn't give a flying fuck about Tim's embarrassment about his two-inch pecker, or us humans in general, or anything else; not as far as I can tell.
I like Hayden's big penis though, and Tim's little one too, although Tim's probably not crazy about it. Unfortunately, Hayden's big dick hasn't served him especially well either. I mean he told me he how he loves to 'top' during sex but because of his big penis I'm the only guy he's found that will let him. So I used penis sizes as a metaphor for yet another example of how Mother Nature isn't nice. Weirdly, some scientists claim that when every other living thing on earth has played itself out, bacteria will be all that's left living on earth and, trust me, 'Mother Nature' doesn't give a flying-fuck about bacteria either. Ha ha, that's my theory anyway.
Okay, I need to tell myself: 'Enough about Mother-fucking-Nature already!' Right now, I'm more interested in trying to pinpoint what it is specifically about Hayden that sexually intrigues me. No, it's not just his dick! It's the old story of a 'mysterious something' about him that I'd truly like to understand. Ryan Wilcox had a mysterious something about him too and I never figured out what that was so I'm guessing I won't figure out what it is about Hayden either. Frustrating, but it's not like its mandatory that I 'know' what it is.
Hayden's not cute; not in a conventional sense, so it's not that. And he's a little fellow, three-inches shorter and thirty-five pounds lighter than me. His body is nothing to write home about either. I mean, his hairless torso is so skinny his ribs show when he lifts his arms to pull his shirt over his head. And there are other aspects of his appearance that put me off a little too; for one, he wears his pale-red hair way too long for this time-period in the twenty-first century. Oh hell, little things like that, and they shouldn't be important anyway. I just don't know exactly, I simply can't understand why he's registering so high on my brain's 'hot-and-sexy-scale', although he does. And so here I am naked in his bedroom feeling good vibes about our impending buddy-sex. Yeah, and with Hayden actually being the one who's supposed to be in-charge! Oh man, its nuts maybe, but there it is...
In the background we can hear the sounds of the cookout still in fill-swing in the two backyards next to Hayden's. There's unintelligible shouts plus squeals of children and the occasional curse word, all heard faintly through the bedroom window. We know that Rob and Danny are out there partnered-up playing gin-rummy for money. They're both competitive to a fault so they couldn't resist being partners earlier kicking-some-asses in ping-pong, and now the card game. Well actually I don't know if they're kicking ass in the card game. They could be losing their respective shirts, as the saying goes.
Hayden's pulling back the covers on his bed, asking, "Why so quiet, Dylan?" I go, "I'm often quiet while having deep thought about life." He turns around to look at me, his heavy cock barely moving, "C'mere, babe." I mutter, "What in the fuck did I tell you about calling me, babe?" His fists go to his slim hips, "Listen, buster, if Robert and Daniel can call you that, so can I?" I go, "Buster? What the...? And why are you back to using proper names for Danny and Rob? That's, um, pretentious... or something."
I don't 'C'mere' like he said, so Hayden drops his fists from his hips and comes over to me. With a grin, he's muttering, "The prettier they are, the more temperamental " as he takes my limp cock in his hand and gently pulls me to the bed using my dick as a leash, seriously asking me, "Don't you recall earlier when we both agreed you'd do what I say during buddy-sex? It establishes, um, a proper atmosphere. You said something like that yourself, I'm sure you did!" Hmmm, yeah he's right but, jokingly I try to demean the very idea by saying, "Oh, so you're supposed to be the big-bad dominant sex-partner and I'm supposed to act like the meek-submissive one. Is that it?" He lets go of my dick to clap his hands while laughing out loud, and then enthusiastically agrees, "Yes! That's it exactly! I mean, you're the most fun to fuck when you're being docile!"
Trying not to snort out a laugh because his enthusiasm is one of the things that makes it fun having buddy-sex with him; that and the incongruous bossy things he says... and of course his big dick. I mumble, "You've gotta keep in mind how you need to be careful with me because I'm the only person who will let you 'top'. Am I right?" He shrugs, "A boring detail! I suggest you pretend I'm in great demand and therefore always fucking someone." I look dubious and he goes, "Can't you pre-fucking-tend that?" I give him another 'look' and he goes, "Pretend I'm like a stud who fucks regularly and you've waited your turn patiently, and now that I've turned my attention to you you're really excited and appreciative." I go, "You've a vivid imagination but there's a limit to what I can pre-fucking-tend!." He's got my cock in his fist again, mumbling, "Try harder!"
Pulling on my dick, he adds, "For right now though, get your cute ass up on my bed and lie on your back," and a rough pull on my dick follows. As I'm getting on the bed, I grin, muttering, "Your hand felt kinda good on my dick." See, I'm making myself stay in the right frame of mind, sternly telling myself, 'Don't grin or laugh... give this a chance.' When I'm lying flat on my back, he goes, "Put my pillow under your head and keep your legs together." As I'm doing that I feel a hint of submissiveness except, unfortunately, I'm mostly bringing it on myself. Even though that's true I do get a big kick out of Hayden's seriousness, which sometimes helps the illusion of dominance. slightly. And even though 'pretending' is necessary, Hayden's at least being himself: he's doing his normal thing and it feels natural coming from him whereas I never got the sense Marty was being natural with his 'dominant' act.
Standing naked at the side of the bed Hayden's looking down at me, murmuring, "Yep, you're as thin as I am." I yell, "NO, wrong again!" He lightly rubs my chest and stomach and I try not smirking and act docile. He goes, "Okay good, you're playing along now. I may have a treat for you later if you continue being a good girl. You know, the way you were last time." That 'girl' reference was annoying, but again I ignore it. I'd also like to ask him how he can remember 'the last time' we fucked since it was so long ago. I'm trying to get in the proper submissive mind-set though so I don't distract him by asking anything.
He climbs up on his bed lifting his left knee over my body so he has a knee on either side of me, and then he orders, "Put your hands behind you head! From now on you're totally under my control." Like I said, I love his seriousness and now his hypnotic voice is getting to me too so I put my hands behind my head and he sits on my stomach, his big cock lying heavily on me right next to his thigh. I stare at got for a couple of seconds trying not to chortle.
Nodding his head, Hayden mutters, "Good girl, you're being very good," and he scoots up my body dragging his bare ass and big cock with him. When he's on my chest he gets a knee on each of my biceps muscles; his right knee hitting awkwardly and I cry out, "OW! Fuck, that hurts." Damn, I didn't want to do that!
Unfazed, Hayden lifts up on both knees putting more pressure on my offended bicep, muttering, "Does it still hurt?" Grimacing, I try moving my arm and manage to do it just enough so it's not hurting as much, and then mumble, "Yes, that hurts!" He pats my cheek sitting back down on my chest and then takes his cock in his hand and rubs the head across my lips, saying, "I didn't mean to hurt you but there's occasionally some pain involved for submissive types like yourself. Just grin and bear it without bitching too much because your whining detracts from your dominant partner's enjoyment." I'm like, "What?" and he goes, "Yep, I read that in your sub/dom sex manual," and then he chuckles while patting my cheek again. Whoa, I think I'm actually sensing some real submissiveness now and I'm not gonna ruin it by calling 'bull-shit' on the sex-manual remark.
Leaning over, he murmurs, "Whether you like it or not, like I mentioned a minute ago, I've got you under my control, baby, so ya better be nice," and he pinches my nose, adding, "You're stupidly good-looking, ya know and I'll bet some wrong-thinking assholes probably resent you for that, but I don't." Now there he goes again with that hypnotizing tone of voice and its beginning to have a real effect on me. He's speaking quietly in almost a monotone, plus most of the things he's saying are absurd, although that is part of the magic.
His logic would be more applicable if he had a younger, smaller, and weaker partner than me to do this fucking around with. What he said about me being under his control is of course more nonsense. I could throw him off me without much effort if I chose to. Hayden's tone of voice and the preposterous things he's saying could either make me laugh-out-loud, or I can let it become hypnotic. Obviously, I choose the second option because I like the 'feeling' I get from being slightly hypnotized. I like Hayden too, which helps the situation along a lot.
While pushing the head of his big cock here and there on my face, he says, "When I put my dick in your mouth you're only allowed to suck and lick the head. I'm controlling my urge to deep-throat you again, but I'd love to do that and I just might. For now though I'm not doing it. Later I may take a chance and push a couple of inches of my delicious cock's shaft in your mouth. For right now though, just the head." He raises his eyebrows, murmuring, "Open up your pretty mouth now, girlfriend." I suck on my lips to keep from grinning, and then open my mouth.
Speaking with exaggerated gay affectations, he goes, "Let me see your pretty pink tongue, sweetie. Stick it out for me, girl." His expression of anticipation and the way he said that makes me snort out a laugh, which is the last thing I wanted to do but I couldn't help it. My short barking laugh fucked-up the submissive sense I was cultivating. Dammit! He pats my cheek, almost a slap, saying, "You promised to be docile for me, girl! Don't make me spank you..." I didn't promise shit! But whatever, I get a serious expression on my face just the same, and then stick out my tongue hoping to recover that hypnotic-like trance.
Hayden rubs his thumb on my tongue, murmuring, "Keep it out for me, girlfriend" and then he goes, "Your tongue is perfect too, Jesus, everything about you is perfect!" Lying his cock gently on my tongue, he mumbles, "Go ahead... you can suck on it. It's okay." I grin and starts licking that big head. Hmmm, like I thought earlier, Hayden's not cute, but he does have a cute way about him.
When he adjusts his position a little, getting his crotch closer to my face, his knees dig into my biceps again and I grimace and grunt around the big head of his penis. He rubs my hair back flat on my head, saying, "What'd I tell you about whining! A little hurt needs to be ignored by you so it doesn't detract from my enjoyment." I try moving my arms forward a little, and that helps. What would really help is if he'd get his fucking knees off my arms!
The head of his cock is a nice mouthful though. It's not as big around as Rob's cock of course; Rob's is a jaw-breaker! On the other hand, Hayden's is twice as long. Sensations are obviously sparkling off his sensitive penis as Hayden's biting his bottom lip and then muttering, "Ummm, feels good. Use your bee-stung bottom lip more though, and I wanna hear some slurping sounds, sweetie," and then he gets a couple of fingers around the shaft of his stiffening cock pushing two-inches of it inside my mouth. Moving my head a couple inches back and forth gets his cock sliding on my tongues as I suck the shaft with my lips. And what the fuck is a bee-stung bottom lip?
There's no taste to his cock but that's not unusual. Hell, I've always liked a young guy's penis in my mouth. That goes way back, as most sexual things do with me, to fat Carl and the forced sex-training I got from him. I was so naive I just assumed everything he said about gay sex and me was the truth. Meaning it was my job to do what he said... and to like it, or pretend to like it at least. Surprisingly Carl's training 'took' with me and I still like being the submissive bottom and sucking cock. Ya know, if Carl had been a half-decent person I'd probably still be with him in some capacity. Probably as his sex slave.
Yeah but he wasn't half-decent and it turned into a love/hate relationship as far as I was concerned. I loved the way he forced his sexual will on me even as I hated him personally. When I finally found a sex partner that I actually liked it was an incredible revelation! It was my first boyfriend, Willie. He continued reinforcing fat Carl's dominance but in a much nicer manner and here I am over four-years later trying to recreate the wonder of those early sexual days. Willie was dominant but so much nicer about it and therefore I liked him very much, and at one point I even loved him. Willie tripled my enjoyment over anything I ever felt for fat Carl, while reinforcing my love of sub/dom sex.
By now I'm deeply into sucking Hayden's cock and with a gasping exhale he readjusts his position on my chest, lifting up and killing my biceps again as he groans, "Oh fuck, my cock feels good, baby. Suck my big cock, girl!" I'm struggling not to scream at the pain in my upper arm while desperately sucking air in through closed lips. Gee, why didn't I just yell out? Is it because Hayden gave me that little hypnotizing speech about it being my job to deal with occasional pain? Am I subconsciously attuned to that sort of thing, even from Hayden?
He looks so happy as he glances down, asking, "Did that hurt when I put pressure on your biceps?" I shake my head and he mutters, "Liar," and rubs my head, adding, "You're being a good girl today, aren't you? But then you like doing what you're told; I can tell." Looking in his eyes I make more "Slurp, slurp, slurp," sounds as I suck his cock with spit drooling down my chin. I'm frowning too because of his continued 'girl' references and again wonder, 'Am I consciously being 'good' for Hayden? Maybe I'm in a trance and don't know it. Lately its getting so I can't fucking tell.
Anyway, even though a huge cock takes longer to get hard Hayden's is fairly hard after two-to-three-minutes in my mouth and he leans over to his bedside table and takes a 4-ounce plastic container of K-Y brand lubricant from the little drawer, muttering, "I hope there's enough left in here."
His cock almost pulled completely out of my mouth when he leaned over, plus he crushed my bicep muscle AGAIN! He straightens up on my chest grinning and relieving the pressure. Feeding his cock back into my mouth, he's saying, "You looked worried, girlfriend. Did you think I might not let you suck my big-boy-cock some more."? Idiot! I wasn't worried about that, I was in pain! Well, I do enjoy sucking his dick though, so maybe I'm the idiot.
After squeezing some jelly on his fingers Hayden lifts up and reaches behind him, but not between my legs. No, he lubes his own asshole... what? He's grinning at my puzzled expression and when his hand comes back around, and he's putting more jelly on his fingers, he says, "I told you I have a treat for you, but I'm gonna need your dick now." He pulls his cock from my mouth and scoots down my body which relieves all the pressure on my biceps FINALLY!
When he slid off my chest to sit on my legs his saliva-soaked hard-fat-sausage-penis dragged across my chest and stomach leaving a wet-snail-trail in its wake. I'm still totally startled that he lubed his ass and he sees the surprised expression on my face but misinterprets it, saying, "Don't worry, I'm gonna fuck you later but first I want to feel your cock up my ass. Your penis is a lot like my boyfriend's and he's neglected me something terrible all week. Hey, has he been servicing you?" Frowning, I go, "Me? No! Danny's not a sex-fiend like the rest of us." He looks hurt, "I'm not a sex-fiend." I shrug, concentrating on the sensations sizzling off my pecker as I watch his fist stroking up and down on it. His hard boner lies to the side about an inch off his leg. It's too heavy to stick straight out but it's not flopping around either. With a grimace Hayden takes his hand off my boner and strokes his own and amazingly it grows even bigger and harder.
He strokes his big cock straight up and down a half-dozen times and then goes back to stroking mine as his lies stiffly, pointing forward as if it's keeping an eye on me. My cock was fairly hard before Hayden began stroking it because sucking cock gets me hard, but it's getting harder now from Hayden tight stroking, stroking, stroking. That gets me grunting and squirming on the mattress as he's casually saying, "You were already hard before I started stroking the jelly on your cock. What's up with that, baby?" I blush a little, embarrassed about getting hard from sucking his cock. It's normal for me, but seems to confuse and surprise others. I go, "Um, you know... ah, me thinking about my dick up your cute ass and all, um, I got turned-on." He goes, "My cute ass? I have a flat ass. You've got the cute ass." He's right actually.
Without hesitating Hayden lifts up on his knees, one on either side of me touching both sides of my waist. His right hand goes behind him to get hold of my boner and stroke it a few times in that awkward manner. My cock is now hard enough to break glass as he guides the head to his lubed asshole and sits on it forcing the head in past his sphincter muscle as I go, "Oooh!" Electric buzzing comes off the millions of nerve endings in the swollen head of my boner making my shoulders shudder twice. Damn, that feels good!
Hayden's face is slightly taut as he grunts and then says, "Feels good, huh?" Nodding my head I go, "Uh huh," noticing that Hayden's anus, while tight going in, doesn't grip my cock like other asses my cock has been visited. I knew he was opened-up by Danny that time we did the three-way, but now he claims he hasn't had sex all week and yet it's not an especially tight rectum. Hmmm, guys say my ass is magical so maybe it's just a lot tighter than most.
While Hayden's isn't the tightest rectum ever it still feels fantastic and when he sits down on it some more my shoulders do their shuddering again as I grunt, "Ummm, oooh!" His face is scrunched a little as his rectum opens up for my boner and I can feel it getting even harder... oh man, it feels soooooo fucking good. And then I spot Hayden's skinny-hairy legs as he's squatting over me. Jeez, there's nice definition in his calf muscles. He holds himself in that squatting position halfway down my hard cock, not straining at all. Then, with a sigh, he sits the rest of the way down while looking at me and making a quiet, "Ow," sound and then he grins, muttering, "Your boner isn't as big as Danny's."
Vibrations flare off my penis as it tightens-up further and feels awesome! Hayden brags, "I slid right down your pole. Danny needs to encourage me, saying, 'Go ahead girl, slide down Daddy's hard cock,' and then Hayden laughs, adding, "He calls my asshole a pussy... and that excites me." Even while enjoying the fabulous sensations flaring off my encased boner I still manage to again wonder if Hayden doesn't secretly wish he was born female. When I asked him that one time he was adamant that he likes being male, and I believe him, but still...
My boner is tightly encased in Hayden's ass and his rectum seems to pulsate on it a little with Hayden's apparently content for now to sit on my legs, my boner fully up his ass. He's pulling on his own big cock occasionally, his eyes closed as he's murmuring, "Ummm, feels good, girlfriend." I've got shivers of pleasure all around my groin and out to the inside of my legs and up around my belly... really nice!
Hell, it always feels good when my cock's up a guy's ass because all penises have a LOT of nerve endings. The glans or head have the most nerve endings, but there's a lot in the shaft too. Also, depending on what study you choose to believe the foreskin has between 20,000 to 70,000 nerve endings. Of course, if your penis is 'cut' you can forget about the 20,000 to 70,000 nerve endings. Instead think maybe 'a couple hundred'. So there's lots of sensitivity in a penis and mine is sparkling with pleasure sensations that increase enormously when Hayden begins lifting up creating incredible stimulation on my cock as the walls of his rectum drag against it setting off my prostate gland. His calf muscles pop into view as he lifts up and begins doing four-to-five-inch moves up and down on my boner. Holy shit!!
Oh fuck, I almost cum in the first thirty-seconds but get it under control lifting my head off the pillow, moaning, "Aah!" each time Hayden drops his ass on my boner or lifts up. He gets a nice rhythm going, smooth and steady as I'm biting my bottom lip, moaning, "Aah! Oh, Hayden! Aah! Ooh, fuck! Aah!" at the fabulous vibrant sensations coming off my cock. I continue my moans of pleasure as I take my hands from behind my head and reach over to run both hands up and down Hayden's hairy legs, up and over his hard calf muscles and I almost cum again.
He's slightly leaning back now and, as he pulls up. the sensations on my cock are even more pronounced with his rectum pushing against my prostate all the way up and all the way down keeping me constantly on the verge of orgasm. What a sensational feeling that is: to be just about to climax... but not quite doing it. Not quite reaching the tipping point and after about two-minutes all I can think about is climaxing. The urge to climax is a very strong one; one we have little control over. Hayden's eyes are closed again as he breathes noisily with some grunting, "Ooh, ooh, ooh," while continuing to lift and drop his ass.
It goes on another deliciously sexy-minute-or-so and I'm almost positive Hayden's now in the grip of climax and can't stop, much like when he was deep-throating me earlier... he simply could not stop then either and its beginning to look doubtful he'll be fucking my ass this evening. He's going for a climax fucking himself on my boner.
Well if that's the case, I lift up off the bed easily, like doing a sit-up, and lean forward with the motion getting Hayden to slowly fall backwards. He lands on the bed on his back with me over him, and now I'm doing the thrusting. Hard thrusting creating, "Slap, slap, slap," sounds with Hayden moaning and his skinny, hairy legs wrapping around my waist as he goes docile for me.
He's just lying there on his back now gripping me tightly around the waist with his legs. Another half-minute of my hard thrusting, "Slapslapslap," and he surrenders totally as the 'bottom' with his need to climax probably the only thing on his mind as he moans and his feet connect behind my waist, his ankles crossing. He squeezes his hairy legs around me continuing to moan with his eyes closed and his hand around his big boner.
I fuck him hard and steady, "Slapslapslap," both of us groaning as I lean over him. Both his hands are at his crotch now with one stroking his boner and the other squeezing his big nuts as his head moves from side to side on the mattress. Oh it feels so good but doesn't last long as my orgasm roars up on me. It means business this time and I can't hold it off even for second. I squeal as cum pumps out my cock in a long stream that coats his bowels. I thrust hard and fast against Hayden's buttocks, not pulling out even a little bit. His now sloppy rectum receives another string of my cum as red dots fly into my closed-eyes and sensations roar off my cock. Another stream of cum joins its brothers to squish around inside my ex-dominant sex-partner's rectum with orgasmic sensations spreading out from my groin.
My orgasm mostly over now, I'm taking deep breaths as sensations begin fading and now it's Hayden's turn to deal with his climax as he flops on the bed humping up at my humps against his butt cheeks. His first creamy load of cum shoots out of his prodigious boner and I watch it with fascination as it forms a creamy arc over his head and lands just at the very foot of the bed on the bed linens he'd pulled down earlier. Another shot of cum shoots out from his big boner landing on his neck and then big drools of cum run over his fist as he tightly strokes his long, fat boner. And then there's no movement from either of us, only some quiet moans. Hayden's legs slide down off my waist to lie on the bed next to my legs that I stretched out behind me.
After some deep breathing Hayden looks up at me, mumbling, "You turned the tables on me." I pull my cock out of his ass with a sigh, muttering, "We both did," and flop backward onto the bed still feeling pleasure vibrations around my groin that are drifting off my softening dick. Ooooh, that felt especially good. Maybe because it was an unexpected turn of events.
Unfortunately there was nothing in the way of a submissive sense at all, but that's not necessary for great sex even for me. Hayden continues lying with his head near the foot of the bed while my head is back on his pillow. I reach over and pull his left leg over on top of my chest and run my fingers through the hairs on his calf chuckling and mumbling, "Hey, nice legs, girlfriend. Forget to shave them, did you?" He sits up letting out a long exhale and saying, "You turned the tables on me." I go, "We already had that conversation. We're discussing your legs now," and I grab his foot, adding, "And your feet are so, um, small. What size are they anyway? They look like a little kid's feet." He grins. "Seven or seven-and-a-half, um, depending on the shoe or sneaker brand. Hey, that was a good fuck, Dylan. Really good."
I'm in a goofy but good-mood now exaggerating my massaging on the bottom of his foot with my thumb pressing the arch and then I pull his toes back, asking, "Do you go to a pedicurist?" He asks, "What's that?" I'm like, "Someone who does toenails, I think. Your toenails are perfect." He says, "I'm into hygiene, being neat and clean is important to me. It's okay if you want to lick my foot." We both snicker as I stare at his foot wondering about people with a foot fetish. Chubby used to have that fetish and he still may for all I know. I wouldn't ask him, but if he still has it he'd be mostly interested in female feet I suppose. Huh, I wonder how many salesmen for lady's shoes have a foot fetish, or barbers have a haircut fetish? That's a weird thought.
Hayden wiggles his toes, saying, "Go ahead, you can suck on my toes, I'll let you." When I pull his foot forward it drags him up the bed a little making him laugh. I put his toes in my mouth and lick them. Then, taking them out of my mouth, I go, "They don't taste or smell like anything." He mutters, "And my feet have been in socks and sneakers all day too." I go, "Euuuu, that's right!" He chuckles, adding, "You'll really know how clean I am when I let you rim my asshole."
After doing a little lick on his big toe, I mumble, "Word to the wise: don't hold your breath waiting for me to rim your ass. But, ya know, I should have a couple of fetishes. They get people sexually aroused. Um, unfortunately though I'm not having much luck trying to talk myself into a foot fetish." He asks, "Do you have any fetishes at all?" I don't want to tell him about my haircut fetish, so I say instead, "Well, I like being submissive during sex although I don't know if that qualifies as a fetish." He goes, "I don't know either. As far as I know I don't have a fetish either, that's unless doing girl's make-up is a fetish. If it is, it isn't a sexual one." I go, "Then it probably doesn't count."
Sitting-up, pushing his leg off me, I say, "Hey, what is it with us though, Hayden, um, girlfriend?" and I snicker again because I'm doing 'girlfriend-talk' like him. I add, "We can't seem to get around to you dominantly fucking me." He sits up too, "Well, girlfriend, I think it's my fault. Both times we started to do that today I screwed-up. First I couldn't stop deep-throating you and just a couple of minutes ago I couldn't get enough of your cock up my ass." I nod, "You're right, it's been totally your fault."
We're both chuckling at our nonsensical conversation, and then he scrambles up to get me around the neck with both his arms pushing me back on the bed. Looking down at me, his big flaccid cock lying on my belly, he continues talking nonsense, saying, "You want me to fuck you so badly though, don't ya? I can tell from your eyes. It's like something you've probably been dreaming and fantasizing about for weeks now. Right?" I go, "Yeah, I have, ya sex-fiend." He says, "I can dominate you too! It'll help you enjoy your submissive fetish. I'll be glad to do it as a favor to you." I go, "Except we decided it's not a fetish. And anyway, I loved fucking you with your skinny legs wrapped around my waist and you loved it too, didn't ya?" He shrugs, "It was okay, I guess. Probably much better for you than for me. Let's face it, you're not as good a sex partner as Danny. His cock is bigger and he does it special with me." Yeah, exactly the way he does it with me, but I don't want to burst his bubble so I go, "You're lucky. And I'm stuck with bland old Rob."
He laughs, "Yeah, what a shame. You're stuck with ugly old Rob Dickers who every gay boy in high school wanted to have sex with. Hey, hope I didn't hurt your feelings mentioning your inferior way of fucking." I go, "Nooo, why would that hurt my feelings? I mean, I know Danny's boner is bigger and he fucks you much better, but is he as much fun as I am?" Hayden chuckles, "I lied earlier when I said you're more fun. Danny is." I'm like, "Why you little liar," and fake pushing him off the side of the bed until Hayden leans his head down and gives me one of his kisses. I stop everything to totally absorb the kiss. I've learned it's better if I don't kiss back. His mouth is very sexy and his tongue is magical. His scent is sexy too and its a sixty-second kiss that gets my dick stirring even though I'm already very sexually satisfied.
Hell, I wasn't horny when Hayden and I started with the oral sex two-hours ago. His kiss is very sexy but my cock doesn't get near the boned-up status it's gotten in the past from one of his sloppy open-mouth kisses. Breaking off the kiss, Hayden says, "Hey, girlfriend, you didn't get as tense and all hot and bothered and stiff like you normally do when I give you that special sexy kiss." I shrug, "I felt it! Get real though, you deep throated an orgasm out of me earlier and just now I shot-off up your ass. I'm good, sexually speaking. For the moment anyhow."
He climbs off me, hopping onto the floor, saying, "I lied again, you are the most fun. Danny's always real serious when he fucks me and he does it the same way every time. I love it of course, don't get me wrong. He fucks me better but you're more fun and unpredictable. We should be girlfriends for real and fall in love. We really should." He starts getting dressed so I hop off the bed and start doing that too, saying, "I hope your joking, Hayden, because if you're not I'd be disappointed in you. I mean, that you'd so easily dump Danny." He goes, "I was joking! Jesus! You're too used to guys falling for you so you thought I was serious." I go, "I hope you weren't," and he gets angry, "I just fucking told you I wasn't serious. Don't get a big head thinking you're so special!"
We finish dressing in silence and then I go, "There's really no need for me to do this, but I'll apologize anyway since you apparently are incapable of admitting you're wrong. I'm sorry you're upset even though you have no reason to be." He goes, "Was that it? Was that the apology?" I'm like, "Well yeah, it was heartfelt and sincere! It's hard apologizing when I didn't do anything to apologize for." He chuckles, "Okay, I'll accept that half-ass apology, girlfriend. You don't know any better I guess." Smirking at him and putting my arm around the back of his neck, I go, "That's right, I'm a bad apologizer." He says, "That's obvious, but you're back in my good graces again because I choose to be magnanimous about it." I'm like, "Oh goodie! Um, just for the record... what was I apologizing for?" He mutters, "Give me a minute, alright? I'll think of something."
When we're downstairs, he says, "Your cum is sticky in my ass," and I'm like, "Oh, and Danny's isn't?" He goes, "No, of course his isn't. He has, um, proper high-class cum." I goose his ass and he yelps and then goes, "I'm gonna have another shot of that scotch." I mutter, "I'll watch you do that." In the kitchen he reaches as high as he can and comes down with the bottle of scotch from the top cabinet shelf, saying, "No sense using two more shot glasses," and he gets the two we used earlier from the dishwasher.
As he pours two shots, I go, "You're having two shots, huh?" He slides one over to me grinning that grin that shows the space between his top teeth. That's a very, I don't know, youthful boyish looking. Hayden's cutest feature actually. I look at the shot glass like it's a used sanitary napkin as he's saying, "If you want to keep being my girlfriend, and I fucking know you do, you'll do what you're told. Now pick up that goddamn shot glass." Snorting out a quick laugh, wondering how many beers I've had today, I actually do want that shot of scotch. Hayden's goofing around having fun so, pretending I don't want it, I act reluctant while picking it up, mumbling, "You're so hard on me, but I definitely do want to be your girlfriend on the side so I guess I gotta do what I'm told." He bends over laughing his ass off and spills some of his scotch.
When his laughing finally winds-down to chuckling, he goes, "Oh fuck, that struck me as so funny. The way you said that, and I know you were being sarcastic! You're such a bull-shitter! I'm pretending you're serious though. Now pick-up the shot glass." I'm already holding it up so I frown at him making a silly 'face' and he laughs again and now I'm wondering how many beers he's had all day.
I haven't kept track of my alcohol intake but Rob and me starting at my house pretty early. Hayden nods, saying, "Omigod, you're so much fun... and funny too. Oh fuck, that 'face' you made was so funny." Pouring a little more scotch in his glass, he adds, "Okay, now you make the toast." I try looking serious, saying, "To you, Hayden, my first girlfriend," and he laughs again and then we shoot the shots down our throats. It burns, yes... but not nearly as bad as it would burn if we were doing shots from the budget-cook-out booze.
He gasps and coughs and then says, "That's some smooth shit right there!" He puts our shot glasses back in the dishwasher as I put the bottle back in the cabinet, asking, "Did you think to insure we were using our own shot glasses; the ones from the first shots we had?" He says, "No, I purposely gave you the shot glass I used earlier. We're girlfriends so it's okay to use each other's shot glasses." Putting my arm around the back of his neck again, I hug him against me, saying, "Oh well, I didn't know that. You'll need to fill me in on all that kinda girlfriend-shit 'cause I'm new at this." He smiles and puts his arm around the back of my waist as we head for the side door. Outside again, he says, "I told you the first time I met you that it was gonna be you and me, babe. Didn't I?" I go, "No, you didn't! If only you had, I could have prepared myself better. You know, I coulda learned how to walk and talk like you did at the airport." He says, "Hey, I was nervous and acted the fool at the airport. Don't rub it in. I'm embarrassed about that airport scene."
Jeez, he goes from clowning around to being serious from one second to the next. Tightening my arm around his neck, like a head-lock, I say, "Don't do that! Don't do a hundred-eighty-degree switch from goofing to serious. I was kidding about the airport." He goes, "Ow! My neck! And I knew you were kidding." No he didn't.
Outside we walk through the crowd holding onto each other confirming to myself that we're both drunk. On the other hand, I don't know these people and any of them that know Hayden already know he's gay... so now they know I am too if they didn't already. Hell, I'm not in the closet! Where's Terrence's homophobe little cutie of a brother? He could walk behind us yelling, ''Queers are here!' and I wouldn't care. Not after knocking a few of his cute teeth down his throat that is. Nah, I wouldn't do that!
People are packing up their stuff and getting ready to leave just when I'm feeling the best I've felt all day, obviously because I'm pleasantly smashed and because that was a good fuck with Hayden, plus I like goofing around with him and all his 'girlfriend' horse-shit. Rob and Danny are still playing cards but not looking really happy about it. They both have full plastic shot glasses of cheap liquor on the picnic table next to them. I can only hope it's the first one someone gave them and that they continue ignoring the shots of cheap liquor.
A women, who is one-half of the team the boys are now playing gin rummy with, smugly says, "Gin," and lays her cards down. Danny mutters, "Balls," and the woman smiles as her partner, a skinny older-man with a horse face, says to the woman, "Good going, Paige." Horse-face adds up the scores and says, "Yep, I thought that hand would do it. We're out. You owe us, um, let me see, ah.. twelve-dollars each. We'll forget the thirty-eight-cents." Rob and Danny look at each other and then they both go in their pockets and throw money on the picnic table, poor-sportsmanship alert! Getting up Danny sways and grabs hold of the table, mumbling, "Whoa..." They leave the shots on the table, but I think they've both had a few-too-many earlier.
Seeing the condition those two are in I all of a sudden don't feel as drunk. Hayden and I still have an arm around each other though, so we sure as hell aren't sober. Rob tries to smile at us, but he can only manage half-a-grin, saying, "Looks like you two have become fast friends," slurring his words. Hayden and I self-consciously let go of each other as I ask Rob, "Are you smashed?" Danny mutters, "I am, and I need someone to drive me home." Rob goes, "I'll do that, buddy. And Dylan, you drive my pickup and come get me for work tomorrow morning." He puts both hands on my shoulders, adding, "And don't be fucking late." I go, "Hey, don't take losing at cards out on me, Rob!" Nodding his head, he goes, "I'm sorry. Hey, I can't fucking drive either. My Father would have a shit-fit if he found out I drove in this condition." Always worrying about Daddy. Danny slurs, "I don't have a car here anyway," and he goes into a laughing fit for a minute.
When Danny stops laughing, while I definitely should not be driving either, I take Rob's keys nonetheless and the four of us start walking toward Harden's house with everybody else seemingly walking the other way carrying beach chairs, coolers, and whatever. We're bumping into grumpy people who are tired, plus some of them are dealing with varying degrees of alcoholic intake as well as cranky children. Hayden says, "Stop!" and the three of us look at him. He says, "Walk up to the garages and cross over the driveways." We all shrug and go up toward the houses where there's less foot traffic. The music has stopped so the people's voices are more noticeable now, and slightly grating.
At Hayden's side-door Danny and I do cursory one-arm hugs with Hayden, mumbling, "Good time today. See ya..." Rob's already on the sidewalk waiting for Danny and me. Now that it's time to go it's like a door slammed on the fun, Boom! Weird how when one little group starts packing-up others follow and it becomes a stampede with everyone thinking, 'Enough with the Fourth of July already!'
While walking down the sidewalk past Hayden's house to where Rob parked his pickup something occurs to me, so I ask Danny, "How'd you get here? Did you come with your Mom?" He nods, "Yeah, but she took the car and left an hour ago. I could walk the couple of blocks home except I'd rather get a ride with you guys." Rob goes, "Yo, Danny, when I called 'hearts' as trump why the fuck didn't you sign somehow that you didn't have any fucking 'hearts'?" Danny yells, "Because I don't cheat, that's why! Didn't you hear my loud groan?" And they argue about the last hand at cards all the way to the pickup. For the record: when he did that loud groan, that was cheating right there.
I'm in that familiar state of mind where I know I'm drunk but Rob and Danny are worse so I feel much less drunk than I actually am. It's a mind-over-matter situation. I'd blow exactly the same score in a breathalyzer either way, but in my mind, I'm less drunk because I need to be less drunk... for the next twenty-minutes at least. We get in the pickup with those two still arguing about gin rummy and I drive three-blocks to Danny's house. It's actually only two-blocks but Danny didn't give me directions and I forgot the way so I needed to circle back a block. I go, "Here we are, Danny," and he and Rob immediately stop arguing to hug and kiss, saying, "See you tomorrow, buddy," and then another quick-as-a-wink kiss on the lips. Danny, in the shotgun seat, reaches over Rob and bumps fists with me, mumbling, "See ya, Dylan," and he's out of the car staggering up his front walk.
Stupidly, as I pull away from the curb, I act grumpy because I didn't get a quick-as-a-wink-kiss goodbye from Danny, finally saying to Rob, "Christ, that goodbye you two had was like one of you were going off to war." He goes, "Huh, whaddaya mean?" I drive over the edge of the curb at the corner so realize I need to concentrate harder on driving and only mutter, "Oh nothing." It's only another minute to Rob's house since the three of them live in the same neighborhood; the same complex that was built about twenty-five years ago. Rob's house being in the last section of the project consisting of the larger homes.
We have a nice kiss and then Rob mumbles, "I hardly saw you at that cookout," and I go, "Yeah, we saw each other! Um, I'll be over early tomorrow morning, Rob," and he hugs me, saying, "Stay with me tonight, babe. I hate thinking of you driving home now." That'd definitely be the sensible thing to do but for some reason, probably because I'm drunk, I don't do that. I go, "Nah, I'll see you in the morning, Rob." He's too fucked-up to argue and gets out, saying, "Be fucking careful driving." I wave and back out of his driveway almost taking out a holly brush near the front walkway when turning onto the street. Okay, that's another warning sign that I need to concentrate more on my driving!
Its It's only a fifteen-minute drive without traffic and on the way, I pass a cop with all its ridiculously bright-blue-cop-lights swirling around on top of the cruiser. The cop has a car pulled over for some reason. That's my third warning sign to concentrate on driving carefully, but not too carefully. If you drive too slowly that's a dead giveaway there's something wrong with you so I don't do that and make it home okay. Relieved to be done with the driving I park at the curb below the condos instead of behind my place and stagger up the steps letting myself in to an empty condo. Mom is staying with her boyfriend again. I knew that, right? I'm not sure but, whatever...
My bathroom ritual takes only five-minutes tonight because I leave the shower for the morning. I'm in bed wearing only underwear and, after setting my alarm, I'm Like, "BALLS!" I forgot to take a handful of Advil, but it's too late now. Can't get back out of bed and I'm asleep, out-cold, six-minutes after walking in the front door. No musing about today's Fourth of July cookouts or the buddy-sex with Hayden or the kind of buddy-sex we didn't have, no musings at all... just deep into the mysterious world of sleep... out-cold... without dreaming.
The alarm goes off and a split-second later a marching band in my head starts up at the same time someone begins driving a steel spike into the back of my head... BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! I'm not surprised though. No, I expected both activities would occur and get out of bed mumbling, "Fuck it." Shivering in the air-conditioning with only my underpants on I stagger into the bathroom thinking about nothing while I take a piss that a camel would be proud of... aaaaaah! Boom, boom, boom goes the marching band but the steel spike hammering lessens and I try to think of my next move. Advil! That's it! Into the kitchen I go and swallow four Advil chugging a sixteen-ounce carton of orange juice. Dropping the empty carton in the trash I tell myself...'Self, next time shake the carton before drinking it."
Back in the bathroom I sit on the toilet for that disgusting biological necessity. After that I take a too-hot shower being too much of a coward to do a cold shower which is what I deserve after drinking too much yesterday. Thank God the 'Fourth' comes only once a year!
My body's very pink from the too-hot water and my scalp tingles from the vigorous shampoo. Now I take my time brushing my teeth with my Oral-B electric toothbrush, getting my gums and tongue along with my excellent teeth. Yes, my parents passed on good teeth-genes to me. Thirty-two teeth in all, counting my still healthy wisdom teeth, all four of them! And then there's my 8 incisors, 4 canines, 8 premolars and 12 molars, four of which are the aforementioned wisdom teeth. How long I keep those is anybody's guess but for now, they're good. Rinsing my mouth out I drop my head chuckling to myself because I'm probably the only person I know who would be in such a goofy frame of mind to think about the different teeth in my mouth. That's me, still goofy after all these years, or maybe still a little drunk. Yeah, whose song was that... Still Crazy After All These Years? Some old guy I heard on the radio just yesterday but can't remember his name.
Shaking my head trying to clear it of that song, I begin thinking clearly about what I need to do today. It's Thursday, July fifth, and I have work. Okay, that's a good starting place... I have a job to do. Oh, and I need to pick-up Rob too and, oh yeah, bring clothes with me for staying with Rob tonight. Hmmm, Friday night too? Jesus, I forget if maybe it's Saturday night as well. I can't remember our conversation!
Standing here, I'm like... Make a fucking decision, Dylan! Okay, I'll just bring enough clothes for Friday morning and baseball practice. Oh wait! Uniforms are being handed out Friday. Hot shit! My first uniform! Finally a team uniform at twenty-one-years-old; almost twenty-two. Yeah but I'll need to be super blasé about it so I don't make a dork of myself, although that's something to worry about tomorrow. For now, get dressed and decide what clothes to bring with me. What time is it anyway?
Hell, its only six-thirty, I'm ahead of schedule. I'm feeling like shit, but I'm early, so that's good. After getting my work clothes and baseball stuff ready for Friday, I get dressed and comb my hair. Looking in the mirror I see that I look good even though I don't feel good. The only thing I can manage for breakfast is two pieces of toast and a mug of coffee... and I don't even think about a cigarette. Cigarettes are not good for hangovers; hell, they're not good for anything actually. Gotta give that habit up after college. That's what Chub and I always said we'd do, and we will.
Driving to Rob's I'm in kind of a funk and so nothing much bothers me and that goes for the fucked-up traffic at the downtown circle. I get through to the other side and cruise to Rob's getting there ten-minutes early. In his driveway I don't need to toot the horn because Rob's ready for me and comes right out looking as bad as I feel although his suit looks good. As he's getting in the passenger side of the pickup I see his Mom at the backdoor holding something up; a paper or something. Rob tries for a smile as he mumbles, "G'morning, babe," and leans over for a quick kiss on my lips. I mutter, "Hi Rob, um, your Mom wants something." He looks over and mutters, "Oh fuck, what is it now?"
He gets out of the truck as Mrs. Dickers looks at me and gives me a nice smile and a little wave. Huh, she saw Rob and I kiss but had no reaction to that at all. Rob's parents' acceptance of my gay love affair with their son is startlingly commendable. It's unexpected and came at me from left field, to use a baseball metaphor. I'm actually becoming comfortable with his Mom and Dad and obviously Rob's been comfortable with us being gay lovers for a lot longer than I ever imagined. I mean in all ways, including his parents' approval. And until recently I thought it was me who was leading in that area. Not so obviously and Rob has some things to teach me about being comfortable in my gay skin. That really astonishes me. How could I not have noticed this earlier? Why'd I think his Mom preferred Danny over me? And that dumb idea I had that his parents somehow blame me for their son being gay... it was so, um, stupid of me.
After taking the paper from her, Rob kisses his Mom's cheek and they both chuckle about something. She goes in the house and Rob hops back in the pickup, saying, "Dad forgot this report he worked on late last night after the neighborhood cookout. Mom says he left in a hurry this morning, late for an early morning meeting that he set-up. Ha ha," and Rob holds up the binder his Mom gave him, adding, "The meeting is about this report. We'll get there early enough to save his ass though." Then he spots the clothes I brought with me for tomorrow hanging on hooks in the backseat, and asks, "Don't you think we should take your clothes inside?" I'm like, "Oh yeah, I forgot about them." Rob insists on doing that for me and then comes out carrying a cinnamon bun, saying, "Mom thought you might want this." I take it with thanks and eat it as I drive out onto the street with Rob asking, "How ya feeling this morning?" We compare notes about how shitty we feel and then we're silent the rest of the drive
At work I drop Rob off in the front parking lot and he insist I keep the pickup to drive to the back lot. Its two buildings down to where I work and driving saves me a quarter-mile walk. Yeah, this complex is four-times larger than it was that first year Rob and I were on the lawn-cutting crew. Boy, that seems like so long ago to me now. Me and Rob growing into young men together, and it's been great although I miss our boyhood days. Thinking back on it now, everything seemed so innocent, idyllic, and beautiful.
All morning it's hard-going for me with this wicked well-deserved hangover but I make it okay and then I eat lunch alone because Rob has a business-meeting-lunch today. I get take-out food; the cheeseburger platter from the cafeteria and eat it in my 'office'. Somehow the day finally ends and I get a text from Rob saying he's ready to, quote, 'Get the fuck out of here as soon as you are!' Well for me that's one-minute after four-thirty. I pick him up in front and he goes, "Do you mind driving, Dylan?" I don't, and drive him home with little conversation between us. We agree I'll take the pickup to my house and come back for Rob after I have dinner with Chubby, plus Rob and I are both planning on naps as soon as we get home. For some reason, probably because I didn't take the Advil last night, this hangover is dragging on longer than most.
With hopes that it'll help with my hangover I take another quick shower and then at five-minutes-to-five I'm getting under the covers of my bed naked and then fall asleep quickly. My alarm sounds after a half-hour and I sit up hoping my headache is gone, and it is for the first time today. Still not feeling great, I get out of bed and dress in shorts and a T-shirt to go up to Chubby's. He texted me this morning that he was having some people over for dinner and he hoped I'd join them. I could do without the 'people' but I haven't seen Chub for a few days and I want to see him. I can't go many days without seeing him before feeling disconnected somehow. He's my security blanket for life I guess.
For one thing I never feel more welcome anyplace with anybody than I do when I'm meeting Chub, especially after not seeing him for a while. At the door I get a big hug and a sloppy kiss right in front of a group of his friends who are in the kitchen. After his affectionate greeting, he's like, "Dylan! Where ya been, bro?" He turns around, saying, "You know everybody I think. Well maybe not Shirley Temple," and he points to a curly-haired girl, saying, "This is my brother, Dylan. Dylan that's Shirley." She's an average-looking girl about my height. She says, "Nice to meet you, Dylan. My name is actually, Joan Holt, though." I nod at her as Chubby points at another girl, saying, "You know, my main squeeze Katy Lynch, right? And there's my other main squeeze, Wanda Blake." Wanda and Katy roll their eyes as Wanda mutters, "Get over yourself, Jeff."
Ignoring that, Chub goes, "There's Jay, my boss at work," with Jay shaking his head, mumbling, "I'm not his boss," and Chub goes on pointing at someone I never saw before, saying, "You don't know Jay's brother though, do ya? John James, this is Dylan," and the guy reaches over to shake my hand. Handshakes are rare. Chub goes, "And our token black African American friend, Dallas Brown. You already know him, right, bro?" Dallas goes, "Yeahsa, boss, I picks-up after everyone." I make a face, muttering, "Hi, Dallas." Chub points at the balcony, saying, "And out there are two more guys." I do head nods, mumbling, "Hi," and Chub's got his arm across my shoulders leading me to the kitchen, saying, "Would you make a big salad for us, bro? Oh, and taste this chili. It's fucking missing something." He has a large pot, like a five-quart pot of bubbling chili.
He gets a spoon and dips it in the chili as I'm asking, "Chili in the summer, Chub?" He goes, "Nah, it's not chilly, it's been hotter than hell this summer." I groan, muttering, "Corny, bro," and he says, "Bad! That was bad. Yeah, Dylan, I know it is wicked unorthodox to make chili in the summer but I just felt like it, ya know?" I taste it and go, "Jesus! That's spicy!" He goes, "I knew it!" and he dumps a sixteen-ounce can of crushed tomatoes in the pot and stirs it, saying, "Get yourself a beer, bro."
Everyone's drinking beer and talking. I hear one of the guys on the balcony playing a guitar and nod my head at the sliding glass doors to the balcony, saying as a question, "A guitar?" Chub goes, "Oh yeah, that's the Drumbo brothers. You remember them from talent shows in high school, right?" I'm like, "Not really." How does Chubby know all these guys?
Chub and I mess around adding stuff to the chili until we consider it perfect. The large quantity he made thru him off because usually Chubby's chili is perfect right from the start. I make the salad using two heads of iceberg lettuce and two tomatoes, half a red onion and half a long English seedless cucumber, plus a diced Red Delicious apple. Chub whips-up his version of Italian dressing for the salad and that, plus two-dozen French rolls and butter is dinner for the group. Everyone drinks beers and I even have two beers without feeling any the worse for it.
After everything is eaten, we all leave the kitchen as a disaster area, to crowd out on the balcony with the guitar guy playing amazingly well and singing along with his brother. How the fuck they have the confidence to do that I can't imagine, although they're very good. They sing old songs I don't think I ever heard before but the guitar player has a sweet voice and with his brother they sound as good as half the shit I hear on the radio. In-between singing, guys tell jokes and the one I remember is a golf joke.
Chubby tells the joke: This guy Wayne Pencildick was teeing-up his drive on the men's tee at the country club. He's concentrating so doesn't notice his wife teeing-up her drive forty-yards ahead of him on the women's tee. He's into his back swing when he sees her, but it's too late! Unable to stop his follows through he hits a scorching line-drive right off his wife's temple and she dies instantly. Shit happens on golf courses, so whaddaya gonna do? A few days later, Wayne gets a call from the coroner regarding his wife's autopsy. The corner goes,'Mr. Pencildick, no surprise here, your wife died from a blunt force trauma to the head. It was your drive, right?' Wayne goes, "Uh huh. I think it would have sliced if, well ya know....' The coroner goes, 'Hmmm, yeah, but we found a golf ball wedged way up her ass too." Wayne's like, "Oh, was it a Titleist 4, by any chance?' The corner goes, "Well, yes it was,' and Wayne's like, "That'd be my mulligan. We searched for that...'
Everyone is guffawing over that punch line except for Wanda, who's like, "What's a mulligan?" I get a call from Rob and, still chuckling, I go, "Hey, Rob! Whatssup?" He says, "Aren't you coming over? Danny and Hayden are here plus I got a call from that guy from work, Marty West. The guy you know. He's on his way over for a haircut and I don't even know what he looks like. Kinda awkward." I look at my watch and see its eight o'clock. Jeez, I didn't realize it was so late. I tell him I'm leaving for his house right now. Chub's group of friends are getting a little smashed having started drinking an hour before I got here so I mostly just say goodbye to Chubby and give a general wave, saying, "See you guys," and I'm outta there.
Smiling to myself, thinking of the joke's punch line, 'That was my mulligan', ha ha, I'm driving to Rob's getting there with no problem. Danny's car, well his Mom's, is parked on the street so I park behind it. Walking up the driveway and into the pool house I get a nice 'Hello' from Danny and Hayden who are shooting darts. We do quick one-arm hugs as Rob stops cutting Marty's hair to say, "You finally made it." I say "Hi' and then Marty waves and I say "Hey, Marty," and then tell Rob about the little dinner party at Chubby's. As I'm doing that he goes back to his barbering, just finishing up on the 'under cut' around Marty's head. That's what it's called when tapering the sides from basically shaving the hair halfway up the sides and back and then blending that to slightly longer hair upwards to meet longish hair all over the top of the head. I can't describe it any better; it's radical. I see more and more of this haircut on younger and younger guys. It's a copycat world.
Rob's done an A+ job for Marty. It looks identical to the haircut he did for Chubby and better than the ones Danny and I got. Rob didn't have his new barber clippers for our haircuts. Marty asks me, "How's it looking, Dylan?" meaning his haircut I assume. I mutter, "You're in good hands, Marty," and realize I have zero carry-over as far as sexual interest from our sex on Tuesday. I feel nothing for Marty and that includes no negative vibes as well. No positive or negative vibes.
Huh, I never actually felt real sexual vibes with him from the first time I met him until now, for reasons unknown. Its it's more a reflection on me than Marty because he's okay and I've had sex with guys who were, um, less okay-looking, for lack of a better term, than Marty. It's weird that even though I'm remembering a few highlights from Tuesday night he's still not registering on my desirable-buddy-sex-meter. Whatever, it's not important. Somethings just don't work out...
Rob, without looking at me as he picks-up the thinning shears, mutters, "Please don't stare, babe. It makes me nervous." I mumble, "Sorry," and go over to the cooler and grab a beer. Everyone is drinking soda except Marty, who isn't drinking anything. The two beers I had at Chub's sort of balanced me out hangover-wise and I'm feeling better than I've felt all day. The hair of the dog that bit you... or something like that.
Snapping the tab on a can of beer I take a swig and then mess Hayden's hair, saying, "Are you next in the barber chair, squirt?" Danny's forehead wrinkles as he goes, "Don't tease Hayden about his hair, Dylan," and Hayden mutters, "He's only joking, Danny." Hayden lines up a shot with a dart and then fires it to the top of the dart board, muttering, "Fucking darts are still wrong." We chuckle.
Danny puts his arm across my shoulders as Hayden's lining up another shot. He asks me, "Do you think we're ready for another haircut, babe?" I look at his head and shrug, "Not really, it looks like you just got a regular haircut," and Danny goes, "Yes, but that's what guys' hair looks like when they go for a haircut like the ones we have." I'm like, "Oh yeah, how do you know?" He says, "I was looking at some videos with Rob. Professional barbers doing haircuts like ours." That's weird! I ask, "Why the hell were you doing that?" and Danny shrugs, acting self-conscious now, mumbling, "I don't know. Terrence was asking about my haircut yesterday and I thought maybe Rob could teach me how to do it. Then I could do a haircut for Terrence, and maybe you too," and he's smiling, adding, "If you'd ever let me. Rob said it's be okay with him." I mutter, "Oh, so you're buying barbering tools?" He frowns at me, "Um, no, I would hope you'd let me use yours." What a shocker!
Yeah, well what the fuck! Setting my beer can on an old coffee table I take out my first cigarette of the day and glance over at Rob. He's pulling clogs of Marty's hair from the comb giving us a wry grin, mumbling, "Danny's never going to follow through on learning how to do this haircut, Dylan. Nothing to fear." Danny goes, "That's how much you know, Rob. I've already watched some more videos and practiced that clipper motion you showed me." Rob says, "C'mere than and watch this. I still need to outline around Marty's ears."
Danny goes over as Hayden chuckles and returns the favor by messing-up my hair, saying, "Danny's gonna be your barber!" I get him in a headlock and whisper in his ear, "Like hell he is, and I'm your fucking barber. Don't forget that!" He doesn't try to wrestle free but instead puts his arms around me, whispering, "Wasn't yesterday in my bed awesome?" Glancing over at the barber stool I see Danny and Rob talking, so I whisper back to Hayden, "You still need to do... you-know-what." Letting him go, he whispers, "You want it from me so badly, don't ya?" I go, "Nah, not really. I'm just trying to make you feel good."
We shoot darts as Rob's showing Danny edging-technique around the ears. Marty being the guinea pig as Danny tries doing the edging. After his haircut Marty's super appreciative and gets the okay from Rob to get his next haircut in the pool house too. He hangs around for a beer as the five of us talk about the Red Sox and then Marty's on his way.
As Marty walks out the door Rob grabs a beer, saying to me, "I need at least this one beer so I don't notice your beer-breath tonight, baby." I go, "Jeez, couldn't you have put that in a little nicer way!" Danny says, "Oh, so Dylan's staying over your place again, huh, Rob?" and Rob says, "Yeah, the rest of the week and probably the weekend too. Do you have a problem with that, Danny?" Danny goes, "No, I'm just jealous of you guys sleeping together because Hayden and I never get to do that. Do we Hayden?" Rob and I smirk at one another and I move closer to him. He puts his arm around my waist, saying, "I'm trying to get Dylan to sleep over the rest of the summer too." Danny goes, "Well fuck you guys. No need to rub it in."
Danny throws some darts as Rob asks me, "Whaddaya think about that, Dylan? Sleep over the rest of the summer, huh?" I go, "I'm almost sleeping here every night now." His arm comes up from my waist to rub up the back of my head, as he murmurs, "We'll talk about it some more tonight."
Jesus, the way he said that gave me this submissive sense as if its already been decided that I'll be sort of living with the Dickers. I glance at Rob and he smiles and then rubs my head again, this time saying, "You and Danny will be needing fresh haircuts soon." Danny goes, "I was just saying something like that to Dylan." Wow, Rob feels way more in-charge of our group than Danny. And Danny's supposed to be the leader.
Hayden pulls the three darts out of the dart board, mumbling, "You guys are making me feel like an outcast with all your haircut talk." Danny says, "Don't feel that way, babe, Rob's letting his hair grow-out so it's only Dylan and me." I look at Rob's hair; it's already a longish regular hair style. Looking more and more every day like it was when we first met.
The four of us goof-off talking about this and that for another hour before Danny needs to get going and Hayden goes with him. Rob and I sit in the canvas director chairs sharing a smoke while we finish our beers; my third and Robby's second. He's so relaxed and easy-going it's hard to remember the up-tight Robby of years past. Up-tight that certain things needed to be just so and him trying to be the best at everything.
Stubbing out his cigarette butt, he goes, "Will you help me clean-up in here a little, babe? Then we'll get to bed. Oh, and I cleaned out closet space by putting my winter clothes in the attic storage. You can leave your suits here instead of lugging them back and forth every night." He gets up, saying, "How about collecting the soda and beer cans while I'll clean the barber tools. Oh, and get that ashtray too." Swear to God, I feel almost hypnotized by Rob's voice and in-charge manner, the way Hayden's voice can do at times. It makes my dick buzz as I say, "Sure, Rob." My life is always changing it seems. I like Rob's idea about me sort of living here with him, although I have a nervous feeling in my stomach too...
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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