DYLAN!
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
On the motel's balcony, Willie and I smoked Marlboros and drank bourbon and Coke, topping off an unusual date. I'm sleeping tonight and tomorrow with Willie in his suite at his upscale motel. I discovered something: I occasionally need to be submissive to Willie if I want to be his boyfriend. That isn't as ominous as it sounds. He's our leader, but he seldom does anything I don't want to do, and I just got him to have a cigarette and an adult beverage.
After two drinks and smokes, tired and slightly drunk, we both had a good piss, washed up, and brushed out teeth. Now we're wrapped in one another's arms and under the covers to get some sleep. No sex, but we'd had plenty of that earlier. Willie, with a slur in his voice, murmurs, "You're not too upset with me for the dinner lecture, are you, Dylan? I wouldn't say I liked doing it, but I was responsible for putting my foot down with you tonight so we could have a long relationship. Please say you understand."
I kissed him and said, "I don't pretend to get it fully, Willie, but you're our leader, and I like it that way." My dick twitched when I said that, so maybe I mean it. We'll see how it goes. Willie's breathing soon became deep and steady. What a goofy, up-and-down day, but I've heard getting through tough times together helps build a strong relationship.
The next thing I'm aware of is Willie groaning. Then, we rolled out of bed at eight o'clock in the morning, and I whined, "Willie, why must we get up so early? I think I've got a hangover. My first one." Willie mumbles, "We've got to get our haircuts and return for our water-skiing lesson. I've got a hot speedboat rented all afternoon, and an instructor comes with the package for the first hour. It'll be so cool." I said, "Dude!" because that does sound cool.
We brushed our teeth with vigor, then Willie said, "The head of my dick is still sore this morning. I won't be able to use it this morning." I mutter, "That's okay. You fucked be as good as Carl, and that's saying something, and I like you much more than I like Carl; sex with you is my favorite ever!" He says, "Thanks. How about giving my asshole a sweet rimming?"
No problem. I like rimming his ass. It's a very submissive thing to do. I can't think of a more submissive one, and Willie put me in my place last night, so I want to do this for him. "I'm glad to rim my leader's asshole, Willie." He has a serious expression, nodding and saying, "You're doing great this morning, sweetheart. Maybe I should put my foot down with you more often."
That's idiotic, but I let it slide as Willie gets comfortable on the bed, on his knees, with his forehead resting on his forearms and his forearms flat on the mattress. This leaves his oh-so-hot ass sticking up in the air. I got on my knees behind him and massaged his buttocks. Right away, I started getting hard. Willie has a great ass. I leaned forward and kissed his butt cheeks all over and then licked both round, firm, totally hairless buttocks.
Spreading apart his cheeks, I gave a big wet kiss right on his tightly closed anus, followed by a long lick, and then, beginning at the back of his balls, I lapped all the way up his crack and then licked all around both sides of his ass crack. My dick was like a steel rod by now, and when I reached under his nut sac to feel Willie's cock it was just as hard as mine, so I stroked it awkwardly a few times, and Willie murmured, "I love the way you rim my ass, Dylan. Love it!!"
This time I sucked on the back of his nuts first and then started my long lap up his crack, over his hole, and then back down, stopping at his asshole this time to concentrate on licking right on top of it, over and over. Willie moaned and tightened up his body; he did a full-body shudder, and I watched those little goosebumps break out all over his arms. My tongue had worked its way into a small opening at his asshole, and then I pushed my tongue in a little more and then some more, and I tasted a slight bitter shit-taste for a few seconds, but it faded.
That hint of my boyfriend's shit got my dick dripping precum. It was so sexy performing this submissive sex act; I loved doing it. The hint of shit faded almost as fast as it appeared, so I really got into fucking his hole with my tongue. His sphincter got looser, so I went up on my knees and pushed the head of my dripping, throbbing boner past Willie's sphincter ring and up inside him. I went in about four inches, and he let out a squeak but pushed back, so I thrust forward until my cock was totally up his ass. Willie groaned, "Oh, this feels so good! I forgot how hot this is. Fuck my ass, Dylan."
I thought it felt awful good myself, and Willie's right; I'd also forgotten how good it felt from this end. Black dots were dancing in my vision. This was fantastic. This is a ballsy, hot thrill! I drove my boner in and out of Willie's hole while holding onto his hips with both hands. Nothing clever or fancy about this fuck, just pleasure for me and apparently for Willie, too.
My nuts were working overtime and began to hurt a little as they slowly moved up to the top of my scrotum and pressed against my groin. More precum and I knew this was it. I grunted out, "I'm going to cum, Willie." Three seconds later, a long string of cum blasted out of my cock into Willie's bowels. Immediately Willie's sphincter ring tightened around my boner as he fired a load of his cum onto the sheets, and then we fired our second shots together. Willie made lots of familiar steam sounds from the air squeezed out between his front teeth. I had cum drooling with each thrust for a minute or so after the climax.
Wow, did that ever feel good? Falling onto Willie's back and hugging his slim body, I kissed the back of his neck. He was smelling so nice with his Willie scent. Sex with Willie is awesome. He let his knees slide backward till we were flat on the sheet, me on his back with my dick up his ass. After a few minutes of heavy breathing, Willie said, "That rocked, Dylan! WOW! Nice fuck, sweetheart!"
Then, thirty seconds later, he checked his watch and said, "I hate to be a killjoy, but we gotta get moving." I wheezed out, "You're the best, Willie. I loved that so much." He started rolling over as he said, "It was fantastic, but only occasionally."
As we ate a quick breakfast at a diner, Willie checked his driving directions, and I worked up the courage to whine, "Can't we pass up the haircuts, Willie, please? I don't want a flattop. Carl will be mad you made me get it. He likes giving me haircuts."
He plops a twenty-dollar bill beside his plate, stands, and says, "Let's go. No more whining, okay?" Goddammit, my dick squirmed in my pants at that rude dominant comment from Willie. Standing and groping my junk, I mutter, "Sorry," and then, "What's an authentic flattop, anyway?" He shrugs, "I don't know. We'll find out."
The haircuts didn't work out well at all. Afterward, getting in the car, Willie rubbed his head and mumbled, "This haircut really sucks." I mutter, "Duh!" The barbershop was right outside the Army base, and most of their customers were military personnel getting too short haircuts because they had to. We didn't talk for five minutes, then Willie said, "My fuck up, Dylan. I apologize." I shrug, "Hair grows steadily but slowly."
We scheduled a time for the water skiing lesson. The instructor, Andrew, was a well-built guy with a few tattoos and a killer smile. He's about twenty-five years old, asking. "You in the service, boys?" Willie grumpily mutters, "No, where do I rent the skis and whatever we need for this?" He feels bad for taking us to that military barbershop. Our flattops are almost to the scalp on top. Suck job!
We got all the stuff we needed, plus roast beef sub sandwiches and a couple of bottles of Snapple. Off we went to learn to water ski. It was a blast, and after a while, except for noticing Willie's too-short flattop, I hardly thought about mine. Andrew, the ski instructor, must have detected somehow that Willie and I are more than buddies because he asked at one point, "Ah, are you guys, ah, that is, are you boyfriends?"
Willie said, "Yeah, we are, why?" The guy told us that he's straight, but "I couldn't help but notice the killer hickey on Darren's neck, and, I don't know, you just seem like boyfriends."
"My boyfriend's name is Dylan, not Darren," and later, the guy says he knows about a party tonight where a lot of the guys there will be gay.
It's fifty dollars to join the club and for all the booze you can drink, lot of hot music. Military guys were always welcome. Willie said we're not military, but we'd think about it. Andrew said, "Sure thing, man, it's up to you."
The sun blaring down on our newly uncovered scalps would burn the top of our heads if we didn't wear hats. It was a lot of fun, though, and the afternoon flew by. Willie knew how to water ski. Andrew was for me, and he did a hell of a job teaching me how to do it. I was skiing like a champ in twenty minutes. We talked about what we wanted to do tonight between water skiing. Andrew told us the party was a weekly event at a gay club, and you don't need to be twenty-one to drink in the private club.
We got referral cards from Andrew with a code number, the club's address, and driving directions on the back. Willie thinks, for a straight dude, Andrew knew an awful lot about gay activities in the area. He said, "The card says it's a fifty-dollar membership fee, so I think Andrew gets a commission. Do you want to go?" I nodded, "Yeah, I'd like to see what's up with that." Willie says, "It'll be my first time in a gay club. We'll check it out at the club after dinner."
With sunburned noses, we arrived back at the motel at four-thirty. In our room, we dropped everything and headed for the shower. When we were squeaky clean, we got under the clean, crisp sheets of the king-size bed to escape the coolness of the air-conditioner, and, without discussing it, fell into a short make-out, Willie being very affectionate and me feeling totally appreciated. I think Willie's the best leader/boyfriend any gay boy could wish for. His penis had recovered, and he said it felt good using lube this time, fucking me for almost twenty minutes before we exploded cum shots; his up my ass, and mine went onto the previously mentioned crisp, clean sheets.
It was an excellent fuck, and we stayed in bed, wrapped up in each other's limbs, and fell asleep. It was a late-night last night, and we got up early this morning. Then, all afternoon, the hot sun did us in. Add to that twenty minutes of robust sex, plus teenagers can take a nap anytime.
Eventually, we were up, dressed, and out to dinner. We ate at a little spot that was owned by someone Willie's father knew very well, and because of that, we walked up past a long line of peons, right up to the maître d' where Willie was greeted like a celebrity, and we were then ushered right to a table for two at the edge of the bay. I could get used to this special treatment. The muttering of the peons didn't even bother me as we butted in front of about fifty of them. They'll get their tables eventually.
Dinner wasn't as tasty as the entrance had been, but it wasn't bad. I had a fried shrimp platter and Willie ordered bouillabaisse which I'd never heard of, and when it came in a large, shallow, bowl it looked like the left-over items from five or six fish dinners piled into a broth that smelled like clam juice. Willie raved about it and insisted I try it sometime. I told him, "No thanks. Perhaps when I'm a homeless person."
Later, we found the gay club, but it wasn't easy even because there was no name at the entrance, no nothing except the building's address number. The door opened into a lobby that had a short line leading to the rear entrance of Club Boytoytime. Willie muttered, "Catchy." The line moved right along.
Willie handed a bouncer guy the card Andrew had given us, and we were ushered to the side, where a black dude asked, irritably, "Where the fuck have you two been? We expected you here an hour ago." Even Willie was speechless. He finally said, "What? You have the wrong guys."
The black guy muttered, "Oh, great! Comedians. Follow me!" We went up two flights of stairs, exchanging glances like, "What the fuck?." The lower flight of stairs led to a big, loud room with many guys of all ages dancing, many without shirts and some in their underwear. Very loud dance beat music, glasses clinking against one another, loud talking and laughing.
They had one of those globes with hundreds of tiny mirrors to make the spotlight look like streaming tiny spotlights. It was pretty cool and exciting, but we continued up another flight of stairs. It led to a much quieter, smaller bar area with maybe fifty men talking and drinking but no music. It was like a regular bar. Occasionally, a subdued loudspeaker would announce a number in a low voice, "Number twenty-one, please."
Willie and I are looking around, totally in the dark as to what's happening. The black guy says, "My name's Kendrick. Use that card when you tell the bartender what you want to drink, the drinks are comp-ed.
I'll go see how the other boys are doing."
Willie and I look at each other for the tenth time since coming into this gay club, totally in the dark. Willie says, "Comp means free, as in complimentary, but this isn't what the skiing instructor said. Nobody asked for our fifty dollars."
I'm like, "Oh," and I shrug because I've never paid for a single thing with Willie, so everything is comped as far as I'm concerned. Willie ordered two imported beers that tasted so bitter I couldn't drink mine. "What the fuck is going on here, Willie?" He said, "Hell, if I know, but it's interesting they didn't charge us the bogus fifty-dollar membership fee. Let's see what's shaking, and we'll decide if we should stay or bounce outa here."
Willie got himself another beer and I got a grapefruit juice and vodka. We both smoked a cigarette. It was about a half hour before Kendrick came over to our table and said, "Here," and he gave each of us an envelope, muttering, Put these in your pockets and take one of these," and handed us a few pills.
I said, "Man, is that for a headache? I'm good. I don't need any pills."
Kendrick laughed and then was very stern, "Take the fucking pills." For what seemed the thousandth time tonight, Willie and I exchanged glances, and then Willie said, "We're not trying to be funny; we don't do drugs."
Willie is respectful when he says that, not being a smartass, and Kendrick mutters, "Oh Jesus, what a night. Okay, ball busters, take the pill, and I'll be back for you in a couple of minutes." When he left, I asked, "How are we going to get the fuck out of here?" Willie looks around and says, "That door we came in is the only one I see; how about if we casually walk over and..."
But Kendrick is back, seeing the pills still on the table, and says, "See the bartender over there...?" Willie and I look over, and with my peripheral vision, I see Kendrick putting powder from a small envelope into our drinks and casually putting the envelope in his side pocket.
We look at him, and Willie asks, "What about the bartender?" Kendrick says, "He used to be a placekicker for the New York Jets. Anyway, finish your drinks, and then you'll take your turns in the slings." The second he's out of earshot, I say to Willie, "Don't touch that fucking drink! That guy poured some powder in our drinks; I saw him out of the corner of my eye."
Willie's like, "You're shitting me, right?" I shake my head, looking around, "Where can we dump these drinks?" Then, I casually poured my drink on the carpet under our table. It was absorbed in the thick carpet's pile.
Nodding, Willie does the same thing. We put the glasses back on the table, each with a little left at the bottom. I'm scared because this is serious stuff, trying to drug us. Willie is unconsciously rubbing the sandpaper feel of the back of his head and biting his lip for a few seconds, then says, "Let's just go right back down the stairs," and we start to get up, but Kendrick is right there like he'd materialized out of thin air. Plus, there's another black guy sort of guarding the stairs. What the fuck?
"Come on, boys, no more screwing around. You're up." He has us walking with him as he pleasantly asks, "So, what branch of the service are you in?" Willie mutters, "Marines," and we follow Kendrick down a hall with signs pointing this way and that, labeled "SLING ROOMS," "GLORY HOLE," and "PRIVATE ROOMS."
I hear Willie mutter, "Fuck," under his breath. Kendrick opens the door to a room with two hammocks hanging, and two gray-haired men appear to be humping the hammocks. "Oops, sorry, gentlemen, wrong room." The next door led to a similar room with two hammocks, but no one was humping them.
Kendrick says, "Guys! Listen up!" I thought he was talking to Willie and me until a head popped up over the side of each hammock. The hammocks were too short to be real hammocks, but I didn't know what else to call them. They were made of leather; I could tell by the smell.
The heads belonged to teenage boys about our age. One was a redhead with real bushy hair with a face almost as red as his hair. He said, "Where the fuck you been?" Kendrick said, "Watch your mouth, Arnold! These two are newbies, okay? Let em' have a quickie, and then they'll relieve you. I gotta take care of something else, so, you two," pointing at the hammock boys, "Are responsible. Got it?" They nod their heads as Willie and I exchange another quizzical look.
Kendrick opened the door and was gone, never to be seen again. On the wall was a condom dispenser and complimentary lubricant. The four of us stare at each other until the redhead says, "How 'bout you do me quickly so I can get on my way. The tips have been good tonight so you're lucky with that." He swung the hammock a bit and showed the hole underneath the hammock. It didn't take a genius to figure out that that hole was matched up with the redhead's asshole.
My dick twitched, and I groped my crotch. Willie said, "Just curious, but where do we go when we're done? Down the main stairs or what?" The other boy was a very cute blond, but he had that dumb look in his eyes you see in kids sometimes. He said, "Fuck no! Ya want to piss off Kenny, you stupid dick. Go down the hall to the left where it says EXIT... duh!"
Willie tells me, "Let's go," and we're out the door in a flash with the hammock boys yelling, "Hey! Hey!" That's all we heard as we ran down the hall, took a left, and flung open the door that led outside to metal steps going two floors down. It looked high and dangerous, but we didn't hesitate. Lots of noise, the hard leather soles of our sandals slapping against the metal steps, "Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack...." and an echo after each "Clack."
I can't believe we're going to escape this easily. At the bottom of the metal steps of the fire escape, we ran away from the building, which meant we were also running away from the rental car but weren't thinking straight. Just get the fuck away from there. Four blocks, running hard, I was already half a block in front of Willie. Finally, something I can do better than him is run.
He called out, "Wait up, Dylan!" I slowed up until Willie was next to me, and we jogged two more blocks and then collapsed onto a bench at a bus stop. Breathing hard, Willie said, "What do you think, babe?" I said, "We better start circling back so we can sneak up on the car. They don't know our car, so there isn't any reason someone would be watching it." Willie muttered, "Makes sense..."
That's what we did. It took a half-hour to do a big circle, and then, there was the parking lot. Willie muttered, "If they're watching the lot, they'll be looking for two boys, so I'll go in alone. If they grab me, find a phone and call 911." Our cell phones were in the car. That was our plan, but we didn't need a plan because no one approached Willie as he walked up and got in his car. I wondered if his heart was thumping as hard as mine. He's got guts, Willie does. I was proud to be with him.
He came roaring up to me, leaned over, and unlatched the door for me to jump in. Did he ever lay some rubber with the back end of that rental swerving from side to side? I could smell the burnt rubber for two blocks. Willie ran a light and we were a quarter mile from the Garden State Parkway just like that. Willie released a long stream of curse words, and I knew he was letting out the tension. I felt a little sick to my stomach, but I knew that was just too much adrenaline pouring into my system. I get the same reaction when I'm in a fight, well, right after the fight. It will pass in a couple of minutes.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck that fucking water skiing instructor, Andrew!" Willie screamed into the night with the wind blowing over our extremely authentic flattop haircuts. We both calmed down after a bit but didn't have much to say on the Garden State Parkway back to Sea Isle City. In our room, Willie and I hugged and then got the nervous giggles. We'd dodged a bullet, but neither wanted an adult beverage from the mini bar, so we sat out on the balcony drinking orange soda, smoking another cigarette, and building up the story of our adventure for future retellings.
Willie didn't even argue about the smoke. Instead, he said, "Yeah, I could use a smoke after that, I think." We worked over our adventure at the gay club, and it's going to be a BIG story to tell; I can see that. It was big enough to start with, but wait till we exaggerate it over time. Almost as an after-thought, we remembered the envelopes, and we fished them out of our pockets to find a hundred-dollar bill in each, the second and third hundred-dollar bills I'd seen tonight. Willie scuffed at the hundred dollars, "Big fucking spender! That prick, Kendrick. Huh, Dylan?"
I was thrilled to get that hundred-dollar bill, but I realized it didn't mean much to Willie, so I said, "Guess the guys make most of their money from tips. The kid said the tips were good tonight. Maybe we should have stayed awhile." Willie goes, "Oh, sure. Haha, and there isn't much chance you'll be getting any tips tonight, but don't worry, sweetheart, I'm pretty sure you'll be getting fucked tonight."
As it turned out, he was right. I got fucked that night, and I was lucky enough to get fucked hard the next morning, too. Willie's penis head had healed. He had to catch a two o'clock flight out of Atlantic City on Sunday, so after he fucked me doggy style on top of the bed, we had a big breakfast, and then he drove me back to Wildwood. No one was in our place; the Moms were on the beach, according to a note from Tris. Chubby wouldn't be back till seven o'clock tonight.
We had a hot kiss goodbye, and then I went out on the condo's deck to lounge around and think about things. In the early afternoon like this, it's actually too hot on the deck. I stayed anyway and spent some time wishing I could see Willie for our regular Saturday night date, but that's not happening. I can't wait for our next date, Tuesday night, ten days from now. He'll be away next week.
I thought about how Willie has been 'out' as gay to everyone since middle school and how he appears so much more relaxed about being gay than I am. He's not ashamed about being gay, nor is he particularly proud about it; it just is what it is. Sooner or later, I will need to come clean to Mom, Tris, and, of course, Chubby. It scares me, though.
Willie never says anything about me coming out. Well, one thing is for sure, and that is, I'm not coming out on vacation, so, along with everything else, I'll worry about doing it later.
Then I wondered about that gay club and how water ski instructor Andrew had set us up. He must have lied to Kendricks, saying we agreed to be a hammock boy. Willie told me what a glory hole is, too. Wow, there sure seem to be some diverse ways to have gay sex. For all I know, there are just as many diverse ways to have hetero sex, but that doesn't interest me. All of this is too much to think about.
It was early afternoon, so I wandered down to the beach to hook up with the moms, but they weren't there. The twins were off playing golf, so I took a long walk up the beach. When I got back to our condo, the Moms were out on the deck with their gin and tonics, talking. They didn't see me, as they were going over their weekend with us boys away. The Moms had been with the same two guys all weekend. They hadn't gotten into any juicy sex talk, so I took a deep breath and got ready for a shriek from them when they saw my absurd haircut...
To be continued...
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