Dylans Senior Year at College

Published on Sep 14, 2018

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DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter 10

by Donny Mumford

After Thursday's class, I'm driving Rob's pickup to Rolf's Tavern in downtown North Andover. Rob's at baseball practice so, as promised, I'm hooking up with Connor Neary and his boyfriend, Stosh Kowalski for a beer or two. Wow, I just freaked myself out remembering that guy's name. Him of all people! Yeah well, maybe that will 'kick-start' my brain and I'll begin remembering names. That'd be good; maybe the only good thing that will come from meeting that guy. I was not impressed with Stosh during the half hour I spent with him and Connor in the Quad.

On the other hand, it could be misconstrued as arrogance on my part deciding Stosh sucks after spending only a half hour with him. I wasn't impressed by Professor Douglas either but then first impressions aren't always accurate. Often they are, but not always. That being said, the Professor will be taking attendance every class which is way over the top, especially considering the course is for seniors and it's an elective! C'mon! Anyway, my point is that perhaps I need to give the Professor and this guy, Stosh, more of a chance before I write them both off as disasters.

It's a short drive to downtown North Andover so I'm at Rolf's in like ten minutes. There are only four cars in the bar's parking lot which isn't unusual considering it's three-forty in the afternoon. Two pickup trucks are parked on either side of the front entrance and then there's an older-looking Jeep parked next to the pickup that has a trailer full of lawn cutting equipment sticking out behind it. I park on the other side of the other pickup.

And then there's the fourth car. It definitely looks out of place parked way over to the side of the lot. It's a pimped-out metallic blue, two-door Mustang. I'm guessing it's of early twenty-first-century vintage and while I don't know shit about cars even I can see that a lot of after-market alterations were done on that car. Attached to the back are what I think are called 'spoilers' although I don't know why they're called that. The car also has oversized chrome wheels, heavily tinted windows, a lowered suspension, and grill guards. And I'm guessing other things have been done to this gaudy machine that I simply don't recognize. Hmmm, which one of these four vehicles would belong to a fellow like Stosh I wonder?

Inside I see Connor and Stosh at the bar. There are five other men scattered around the bar and one of them has a country song playing on the jukebox. Yes, a jukebox! This is an old bar and the jukebox is just as old although it cost fifty-cents a tune nowadays. Someone told me that way back in prehistoric times a jukebox song was a dime or three for a quarter. Whatever it cost... why a country song?

And... ah ha, I'm guessing Connor made a stop at the campus bookstore because he's now wearing a brand new Merrimack baseball cap, plus there's a Merrimack logo on the plastic bag laying on the stool next to him. A hat is a damn good idea considering his bad haircut and believe me I know a little something about hats and bad haircuts. Too bad Stosh didn't buy one too, or a big hoodie would be better for him!

Patting Connor on the back, I'm like, "Hey, nice hat, Connor!" He turns to smile at me and then, squeezing my arm, he says, "Thanks for meeting us, Dylan! And I like your hat too." I move the plastic bag over one seat as Connor tries getting the bartender's attention. Taking my hat off to see what he's talking about, I grin to myself because it too is a Merrimack baseball cap. It's an old one though. Hell, I have about twenty baseball caps at home but I only brought three or four with me to college. Before leaving the apartment I just grabbed the hat on top of the pile without giving it a thought. This hat is actually one I sort of stole from Ryan Wilcox. He wore it when he was one of the baseball team's 'flunkies' or what they prefer calling: 'equipment managers'. Ha, my hat looks a little bit beat up compared to Connor's although I prefer thinking my hat is properly 'broken-in'. Ryan broke it in for his head first, and then I broke it in for mine.

The bartender comes over holding his hand out to me, muttering, "I need to see some ID." I guess I can't expect him to remember me from last year but getting 'carded' is becoming tedious. I look young for my age though, so without any dramatics, I take out my license and hand it to him.

As he hands the license back to me, Connor says to the bartender, "Another round, please," and then he asks me, "Is Bud draft okay, Dylan?" I nod and then mutter an acknowledgment that I see Stosh here too, saying with a smile, "Hey there, Stosh. You didn't buy anything from the overpriced bookstore, huh?" He flips a hand at me, grumpily muttering, "What the hell ya talking about? I'm not going to college..." and as I go to sit next to Connor, Stosh adds, "Yo! What the fuck's wrong with you? Sit between us. I'm here too ya know." I mutter, "Oh, of course," and Connor slides over a stool so I can sit in his seat between the two of them.

Stosh taps the side of my arm, saying, "Just some friendly advice so you and I get off on the right foot. Ah, let me remind you of what should be obvious and it's that Connie isn't your boy anymore, he's mine. Do we understand each other?" Blowing out my cheeks in frustration, I look him in the eyes and, maybe with more emphasis than necessary, say, "Connor was never my boy! The very idea of it insults both me and Connor. So, no, I'm not sure we understand each other, not about that..." Stosh raises his eyebrows showing a fake startled expression, saying with a snarky grin, 'Whoa, tiger, keep your pee-pee in the tee-pee, okay? No offense intended." What an enormous asshole!

The draft beers are here so Connor pushes a twenty dollar bill out from the money in front of him, saying to the bartender, "You can take these beers out of this...." and the bartender takes the twenty dollar bill. I couldn't get my money out fast enough and Stosh doesn't have any money showing. Putting a twenty dollar bill on the bar for the next round I give Connor a grin so he can see I'm not put-out by Stosh's asshole rudeness.

Connor's still looking uncertain though. He stares at Stosh and me for a second so to lighten the atmosphere I say to him, "Jeez, it's good to see that cute face of yours again, Connor," and I lightly touch his chin, adding, "Even though you've added some whiskers to the face I remembered." He blushes and glances at Stosh, like hoping it's okay to say this and then says, "Stosh wants me to grow a beard like his but I'm resisting. So yeah, I need to shave but we've been running around doing things and, um, well I can't begin to tell you how happy I am to see your friendly face, Dylan." I go, "Thanks and obviously I was joking about the beard..." and Stosh cuts me off interjecting, "Well aren't you boys like two cute little girls gossiping about beauty tips." Connor goes, "Stoshie, don't say shit like that..."

Stosh mutters, "Fuck this..." and, looking past me at Stosh, Connor says, "Stop being a dick! Dylan's my best friend ever, in case you've forgotten." Stosh gets another goofy expression on his face and holds his hands up defensively, muttering, "I'm wicked sorry. Don't gang up on me though, just saying..." Connor goes, "Treat Dylan right, and I mean it!" Stosh drops the goofy expression and exchanges it for a more ominous one. Rubbing his nose in an annoyed manner he says with an intimidating intensity, "Don't push it, Con, okay?" Connor nods his head, mumbling, "Sorry. I got carried away I guess."

A little tension, so we all take a swallow of beer and then Connor says to me, "Ya know, it's just that Stosh and me, um, well we're both still stressed out a little from getting settled-in and then there was that horrendous drive from Texas." He tells me there was also a mix up with his registration yesterday in that they had him listed as a freshman and then Stosh found out he can't start his new job for almost two weeks because of some paperwork screw up. Also, their car broke down during the trip from Texas and their apartment here still needs a lot of work because the Texas apartment was furnished and this one isn't: long story short, they're both a little frustrated and on edge.

That's Connor's story anyway except he doesn't seem especially stressed. Actually, I've never seen Connor stressed although God knows he's had more reasons to be stressed than anyone I know. But wait a second! Yeah, there was a time Connor was stressed to the maximum. It was when his benefactor unexpectedly died and Connor didn't have anyone to co-sign for his college loan after freshman year. It wasn't only that though, Connor considered that man almost like the father he never had. So that was a very hard time for him and it's actually the reason he joined the Army.

We have a few beers without Stosh being especially obnoxious but then Connor does most of the talking. As he's talking it seems to me he's trying very hard to tell me about every example he can think of from his Army days when either Dodger or Stosh helped him out. Connor makes both guys seem like knights in shining armor. Not Dodger and Stosh together though. No, those two were like oil and water; neither got along with the other worth a shit.

Connor doesn't tell any stories where he's the 'star' although I'm positive many examples of that could be told. Actually, it'd be Stosh's place to tell about those experiences although he obviously prefers listening to Connor talking about how wonderful he was. Frankly, some of the examples don't seem all that special to me; more like it was the very least Stosh could do. Connor's always been overly appreciative of the smallest favor though.

When Connor can't recall any more reasons to shower Dodger and Stosh with compliments we somehow get on the topic of the latest horrific shooting at a school. Actually, it was Stosh telling us about guns he had while growing up that got us on the topic. Jesus, guns as a child, really? Anyway, these school shootings seem to be happening with horrifying regularity lately. We try imagining what the underlying causes are for these outrages against humanity and why we can't prevent them from repeating? There's outrage and then it dies down until the next time. Stosh pontificates, "Well obviously our ceaseless exposure to bad behavior of all kinds has calloused us to the lewd and the vulgar until... well, what's left that still remains wicked to us? What still slaps the clammy flab of society's submissive consciences hard enough to get serious attention? And I'm not inferring 'gun control' is the answer; quite the contrary."

With both of us frowning, Connor and I look at Stosh as he drinks some beer and then adds, "These assassins have adolescent fantasies buttressed by a distorted sense of morality in the belief of their divine right to decide the fate of others." I go, "Or they're mentally ill or maybe royally pissed off and psychopathic with delusions of grandeur." He shrugs, muttering, "Too simplistic."

What Stosh said sounded almost to make sense about, um, something. Maybe not exactly what we were talking about, but some part of it... maybe. Connor says to me in a serious manner, "Stosh is a secret intellectual, Dylan. He's so smart, but he keeps it hidden until occasionally he'll come out with a brilliant intellectual analysis like he just did." Huh, Connor also said something about Stosh being smart when we had coffee in the Quad earlier. Glancing at Stosh I see him drinking his beer apparently content with what Connor just said... in effect agreeing with him.

Well, I'm no intellectual but I'm more inclined to call what Stosh said more or less pseudo-profound or perhaps to use a psychiatric term... bullshit. It was basically a collection of buzzwords he'd memorized from maybe the newspaper or from online analysis and it was all put together randomly and frankly barely retaining a syntactic structure. Omigod, that sounded worse than Stosh! I'm glad I didn't say any of that shit out loud!

Stosh is basically a poser though and his goal is obviously to impress Connor and maybe he's trying to impress me now too. The thing is though, I don't care enough about him to argue about his so-called intellectualism. Hell, maybe he is brilliant although so far I've neither seen nor heard any evidence of it. Still, if he makes Connor happy then who am I to decide he's an asshole and not good enough for Connor. Hmmm, except what I just thought infers I've already decided that. And, damn, I'm the one who's all about the... 'to each their own' philosophy. In other words, if Connor likes Stosh's act I should just accept it. Hmmm, I don't know if I'll be able to pull that off though.

But at least I won't do or say anything now to dispute Connor's claim of Stosh's intellectual status. Of course, neither does Stosh which any normal person would have. Just saying...

They're onto another story from their trip and it contradicts my contention that neither of these guys has any of what I call, 'gay affectations'. But yet Connor's telling me about an incidence where someone must have picked up on something about Stosh that made the kid think Stosh was gay. It was a young mechanic working on their car after it broke down in Tennessee. Connor tells me the young guy had a Southern-gay accent if there even can be such a thing, and continually 'came on' to Stosh asking provocative questions like, 'Is your pepperoni lonely?' and other cute little innuendoes that had overt gay inferences. Connor can't recall other cute little gay double entendre examples so he asks Stosh who scuffs at the whole idea.

Anyway, as Connor tells it Stosh played along with the mechanic and the two joked back and forth which was smart of Stosh in one way as it got the mechanic to stay at the garage until eight o'clock that night finishing their car's repairs. The alternative would have been Stosh and Connor spending the night and part of the next day in some hick town. Huh, I gotta give Stosh credit for doing a sensible thing to get them back on the road that night... so score a point for him. Yeah, except I'm suspicious about what Stosh did or said to that kid that gave him, the kid mechanic, the idea Stosh was gay in the first place. Something Connor wasn't aware of obviously. I wonder if... no, I'll leave it at that.

Another story Connor told about their trip from Texas was when they got lost in New York City. They had to ask directions a number of times and one of those times was when they both went inside this rundown corner-store in a shoddy part of the city and encountered a number of young Middle Eastern young men wearing that traditional headdress scarf, or whatever those things are, and those guys were not friendly. Connor says, "Jeez though, Dylan, some of those guys were very good looking... handsome and young." I go, "Oh yeah, tell me more, haha." He gets serious though, saying, "Very handsome guys but, ya know, the first thing that came to mind, right or wrong, was 'terrorist'." Stosh deadpans, "Or worse, disgruntled postal workers," which makes me laugh. Good one, Stosh!

We talk about the idiom... 'going postal'... and what it means and how it got started. It's maybe the most recently-established idiom I know of. Most idioms we use came into being hundreds or even thousands of years ago; so far back that, while I understand what the mean now, I don't know why. If you know what I mean. Yeah, idioms intrigue me. Anyway, I Googled 'going postal' on my smartphone. The phrase comes from a number of instances before our time when a postal worker opened fire on co-workers. Back then postal workers became the archetypical pissed-off employees for a decade or so and the term 'going postal' has now become part of our language.

Anyway, we're drinking and talking about stuff like that when it occurs to me I don't ever recall Connor being as talkative as he is today. I think he's making up for Stosh being so, um, stoic. Or is Stosh bored? It's hard for me to tell what his act is. Anyway, because of Connor, this isn't the absolute worse time I've ever had in a bar but it's totally missing the joviality I'm used to when drinking with guys. Other than Stosh's 'postal workers' reference there have been no humor or jokes or good-natured ball-busting like guys are always doing. I take my share of the blame for that although it's hard getting a word in with Connor talking so much. He's nervous or uncomfortable and Stosh is obviously the reason, but I don't know how to put Connor at-ease.

So yeah, Connor is animated and smiley but the overly serious or bored Stosh is a major downer; a wet blanket for the ages. I wonder what fun he and Connor could possibly have together... if any. For some stupid reason, I refuse to even think of them having sex together. I blank that out of my mind completely. Connor's too pure for that big oaf, Stosh, with his big body, his coarse beard, and rough facial features.

And Stosh looks too old for Connor too! Well, by now I've had four beers so I blatantly ask, "How the hell old are you, Stosh?" and he gives me his deadly stare. He apparently is incapable of giving an answer or a comment to anything until after a dramatic pause. It's like he wants Connor and me waiting with bated breath for his answer, or for what he has to say about... whatever the fuck. Tired of waiting for him to tell me, I roll my eyes and say with a smile, "Take your time, Stosh," and he says, "Ya know what, you're a wise-ass... aren't ya?" and then to Connor he goes, "He's a wise-ass, huh?" Connor goes, "No he's not!" and then to me, "Stosh is twenty-four; two years older than me. but we have the same sign, we're both Libra. My birthday is September twelfth and Stosh's is October twelfth. Isn't that a coincidence?" I go, "Huh." I actually thought he was older... Stosh, not Connor.

In an unnecessarily challenging manner, Stosh asks me, "Why do you care how old I am?" Ya know, it's kinda odd that he's only said my name one time... if that. Shrugging, I mumble, "Just wondered, that's all. Um, I guess maybe it's because you look older and I wondered how you managed to hook up with my friend here." Connor says, "Yeah, he does look a little older but he's a hunk, don'cha think, Dylan?" I go, "Yeah, he's a hunk, alright," and Stosh says, "Connie told you how we met. Aren't you paying attention? And ya know, and I told Connie this same thing about his roommate in Texas, it's like that deuce bag and you are both jealous of me and my relationship with Con. Aren't you?" I go, "I wouldn't characterize it that way," and he sputters, "A little girlie, pretty boy like you can't imagine why Connie would fall for me... am I right or not?" I go, "Is that a serious question or are you hoping Conner can think up another compliment for you? " He makes a face, muttering, "Forget it," and Connor goes, "Stosh, I don't understand why you say insulting shit like that to my friend." I mutter, "He thinks I'll respond to name calling. Before you know it, he'll be giving me the finger like naughty boys do when they can't think what else to do or say." Stosh mumbles, "Or I could give you a split lip." Connor goes, "Stosh!"

I don't know, I can only hope Connor's happy with this guy and not fooling himself. And if he is happy, like I said before, who am I to make waves. I say, "Ya know what? Let's try elevating our discourse a little bit, Stosh. At least get out of a middle school name calling phase. I'll go first. I seriously don't mean offense asking your age and I'm sorry if it seemed that way." Putting my arm around Connor's shoulders and rocking him side to side a little, I add, "I love my buddy here and maybe I am jealous, but I only care that Connor's happy." Stosh does not accept the olive branch, sarcastically saying, "Well aren't you special! You'll decide if he's happy or not, huh? Obviously, you're inferring the unlikelihood that I could possibly make him happy, right?" Exhaling noisily, I go, "That's not what I'm implying," and Connor earnestly says, "You guys are going to eventually like each other. I just know it," and that makes me chuckle and Stosh actually grins for the first time. Not a great grin, but it was an attempt at least.

We finish our beers and then we all agree it's time to take off with Stosh saying to me, 'You and your roommate are invited to dinner anytime it's convenient for you guys. Right, Connor?" Connor goes, "Absolutely. We need to finish buying things for the apartment but then next week you've gotta come over." I'm nodding my head, saying, "Sure, thanks," although I'm not looking forward to that at all.

Outside I get a good hug from Connor and a kiss too. Stosh holds out his fist for me to bump. Better than nothing I guess and then they get in the... Jeep! Huh, I guessed wrong about the car obviously and maybe I've guessed wrong about Stosh, although... well, I just don't know. Stosh beeps his horn as they drive away and I take a deep breath... of relief? Fuck, I'm not sure what to think but it wasn't an encouraging second encounter with that Stosh person.

Robby hasn't texted that he's done with practice yet but with nothing better to do, I drive to the baseball park anyway. I'm feeling weirdly uninterested in running into anyone else I know. After parking, I'm sitting in the bleachers sort of watching baseball practice. That's always been an appealing activity for me at because of the mindlessness of it. Just sit in the fading sun without thinking too much about anything. And maybe ogle a few sexy young men playing a boy's game while they're having fun doing it.

There are a dozen guys and girls scattered in the bleachers watching practice with me. I, of course, have chosen a spot on the bleachers as far from any of them as I can get while still staying in full sunlight. With no one near me, I spread out leaning back on the bleacher seat behind me, my elbows back on that row of bleachers with my feet on the one in front of me. I'm chillin' while casually wondering how weird life is. I mean the part of life where pure happenstance plays such a ginormous part in it for all of us. What if, for whatever reason, Connor and Dodger didn't go to that gay club in Texas the night Connor met Stosh, or Stosh had a toothache and stayed home that night, or the bar was so crowded they just didn't bump into one another. But they did bump into one another and so here we are a year and a half later.

Huh, and Dodger obviously got the same offish vibes from Stosh I've gotten even though the circumstances of each of us meeting him are so different. We met him under different circumstances but with the same conclusions. So maybe Dodger and I are right that Stosh isn't a good match for Connor. In any case, I'm done thinking about it because it's a tiny bit depressing and kinda exhausting as well.

The sun feels good on my face so I turn my hat around with the bill in back letting my full face be exposed to the sun's rays. Closing my eyes for a second and then I sit up and take my hat off. Staring at it for a few seconds I get this sad sense and then shake my head to rid myself of it. Damn though, I miss Ryan. Not the crazy Ryan at the end but the earlier Ryan, the freshman Ryan. Omigod I feel a stiffening in my dick thinking about the freshman Ryan.

Putting the hat back on and leaning against the bleacher seat behind me again I try remembering when it all went wrong between us. There were times when we fooled ourselves, Ryan much more than me, about the 'love' word but it was never really about that! It was all about the sexual heat that could get so hot between us it was like awesomely insane. I've never experienced the like before or since. Well, in shorts spurts I've felt something similar but only in spurts. With Ryan, it was on and off peaks of sexual heat for like two years or more and occasionally was so extraordinarily erotic it got scarily out of control... the sexual heat did. Plus there was Ryan's dominant control over me too. He knew how to get me sitting up like his favorite pooch... bow-wow.

And ironically we took an instant dislike for one another at first. Then that lunch we had, just the two of us... oh fuck! Yeah, I knew something new had happened when he fucked me. I tried to ignore it or say it was nothing special but it was special somehow. I'm talking about pure sexual erotic heat between two eighteen-year-old boys. Explosive! It wasn't anything we could build a solid relationship on but we weren't concerned about that! Nah, it was never going to be possible for Ryan's and my relationship to be like Rob's and mine... Rob's and my love affair. Ryan and I were more like a runaway freight train full of dynamite which was bound to crash and burn like it eventually did.

Huh, yeah that's true in hindsight, but why did it crash and burn when it did? Well, Ryan is slightly crazy for one thing. I knew that but never expected he'd take paranoia to the level he did. He's always been unbalanced and perhaps he was suffering from manic depression or something similar because his mood swings were unpredictable and often disturbing. He had terrible personal experiences during the years before I met him when he allowed bullies and perverts to treat him horribly and then he'd go back for more. Very weak self-worth or something. And then his interactions with me reversed that trend for him. He reversed his role from submissive to dominant and would at times treat me poorly. Not that poorly though; not like he'd been treated. Still, there was a streak of meanness in him. It was like he was getting back at me for his bad treatment. Of course, I never was one of those who treated him badly but like I said he was a little crazy.

Still, I remember that freshman year like it happened yesterday. Ryan with those little round eyeglasses and his cute face. Actually, he wasn't all that cute except I chose to see him as cute in a funny way. He's smaller than me but stronger and when he got his dominant persona going I was the perfect sexually submissive playmate for him. Early on he could get me to actually cry from him spanking me so hard. This was very early during freshman year. Like I said we were eighteen and I'd only known I was gay for less than a year and a half at the time so I was still feeling my way around deciding what I liked. I knew I liked sub/dom sex but I was experimenting with how much 'dom' I wanted. When he'd get me sobbing from his hard spanking he'd then treat me like his little friend who he needed to take care of and it was so creepy but at the same time so sexually hot to me I could hardly breathe. And then came the hard fucking on my ass... Omigod!

It could never happen remotely like that again but, haha, I've got a boner in my pants right now thinking about it. Jesus, there was this one time Rob drove me over to Ryan's house to pick him up. The three of us were going someplace although I've forgotten where. Anyway, Ryan didn't come out when Rob blew the horn so I went to the front door to see what's up with that. Ryan answered the door and in ten seconds he had my pants down and we were grabbing at each other kissing and licking and then he fucked me so hard and I mean right there inside the front door foyer with his parents someplace in the house. We never used lube back then. I can still visualize my cum stream that shot out in a straight line at least six feet with my steel boner aching and throbbing with mind-numbing pleasure. The most explosive orgasm I've ever had... I thought I'd die right then and there.

Jesus, thinking about it I need to lean forward because my erection is throbbing in my jeans and it's kinda painful. Fuck! I'm all hunched over when I hear my name called. Huh? Looking up I see Danny holding up a bottle of water. The field is a couple of feet below the bleachers. I'm like, "Oh, Danny, um, what...?" There's sweat dripping down his cute face as he asks, "Are you alright, Dylan? Here, take this bottle of water." I can't stand because the front of my pants is poked out by my boner so I lean over further, so far I almost fall on my face getting the bottle of water. I feel the wet of some pre-cum on my boxer shorts rubbing against the inside of my leg. Hope it doesn't leak through my jeans.

Sitting back, but still hunched over I'm unconsciously smelling the back of my hand holding the water bottle and staring at Danny. Damn, my Ryan fantasizing has me discombobulated and I need to get back to reality fast! Danny laughs, mumbling, "What the fuck's wrong...? Never mind, I'll come up there," and he jogs to the steps ten feet to his left and takes the steps two at a time and comes over to me. Sitting next to me, he asks, "Are you suffering a sunstroke? Haha," and he takes the bottle from me to hold it against my forehead. The bottle obviously came right out of a cooler as it's very cold.

Managing to grin at him, I'm like, "Fuck, I'm just messing with you, Danny," and grab the bottle of water, take the cap off and then gulp some down, gulp, gulp, gulp. He goes, "I knew you were kidding." I let some water, accidentally on purpose, spill on my lap, yelling, "Dammit!" and then hand the bottle back to Danny. Now a tiny wet 'pre-cum spot' that makes it through my jeans won't be noticeable and I can sit back completely now. My boner softened a little from getting wet so I'm good. I lie, "Danny boy, I was just thinking about our infamous sleepover, dude." He blushes, "I screwed that up royally. Fucking booze! I can't drink for shit, babe, you know that." I go, "You did good for a while and then BANG you were out of it." He mumbles, "I don't remember a thing after we went in the garage that second time."

God, he looks good. I reach over and squeeze the back of his sweaty neck, saying, "Rob kinda wasn't thrilled that I stayed with you that night." He looks serious, "Really? You got in trouble?" and then he laughs, adding, "It was worth it though, wasn't it?" I stupidly say, "Yeah, it was except you and I didn't do anything in bed." He laughs, "Ya could have fooled me. This is the first I'm hearing about that."

Danny drinks some water and then holds the bottle out to me and I take it and grin at him while I'm licking around the top of the bottle pretending I'm licking off his saliva and he goes, "You're a sexy mother-fucker, ain't ya?" and he hugs around my neck pulling me against him as we both laugh. Rob goes, "Are you two having fun?" Danny lets go of me as we both look startled. Standing down where Danny was standing a minute ago is Robby. He's smiling, mumbling, "For the longest time I thought you two would never be friends and now look at you. Wait there, I'll join you. I have something to ask you both." Rob's jogging to the steps at the left of us as Danny grins and pulls the bill of my cap down, saying, "Haha, you're in trouble again." Adjusting my hat, I mutter, "That's 'cause you're a bad influence on me."

Robby comes over to sit on the bleacher behind us. He leans forward with a hand on each of our shoulders, saying, "Coach wants me to spend an extra hour with that so-called freshman phenom, Carl Snowdon. So I'm thinking that you, Danny, might give Dylan a ride back to the apartment?" Danny goes, "What does Coach want you to do with that kid?" Rob shrugs, "Bring him down to earth I think. The kid seems aloof or something; maybe too big for his britches. I'm supposed to talk to him and, fuck... I don't know. Will you give Dylan a ride? It'll save him from driving there and then coming back for me." I say, "Yeah, and maybe Danny can stay for dinner. Do you want to, Danny?" He shrugs and Rob goes, "There ya go! That's a plan." Danny says, 'Yeah, okay, no problem," and Rob gets up saying, "Thanks! See you guys in about an hour, if not sooner." I go, "Whaddaya want for dinner, Rob?" He goes, "I don't care, whatever you guys want. See ya later..."

As Rob walks back down onto the field and then through the dugout to the locker room, Danny grabs my bicep and with a grin, says, "I'm gonna fuck you a new rear end the minute we get in your apartment. What do you think about that?" God, I'm still all horned-up from my Ryan reminiscings. I go, "Yeah? Great if you can pull it off, which I doubt," and as we get up and start walking, Danny goes, "Ha, Rob doesn't mind 'cause the three of us are tight gay buddies, so why wouldn't we do it?" I smirk at him and he goes, "Oh, you don't think I will, huh?"

When we're out of the baseball complex, I say, "Sure, you probably will, no sweat 'cause you da man, Danny! But, um seriously, can you stay for dinner? I mean, what about your roommate?" He puts his arm around my shoulders so we're rubbing against one another as we walk with Danny saying, "He lives in Worcester and he'll be going home most weekends." I go, "This ain't a weekend, numbnuts. It's Thursday." He squeezes me against him, saying, "Did I tell you that you're a super sexy motherfucker?" I go, "Uh huh, you did," and he goes, "Okay then."

As usual, Danny ignored much of what I said but I'm persistent. I say, "Swell, I'm a sexy motherfucker, but what about your roommate? Do you wanna invite him to have dinner with us?" He goes, "My roommate? What about him?" I groan and then say, "Jesus! I asked if you wanna invite him to have dinner with us?" He shrugs, "Why would I do that? He's in Boston with his girlfriend." I'm like, "Girlfriend? I thought he was gay," and Danny says, "Yeah, so did I."

He doesn't offer any further explanation on that matter and I frankly don't care enough one way or the other, so I drop it. Anyway, right now I've got all I can handle keeping my horniness under wraps. It's off the fucking charts from thinking about Ryan and me as youngsters and now hearing sexy Danny saying he's going to fuck the wind out of me, or whatever he said. Hell, I know Danny's no Ryan when it comes to dominance but I really like having sex with him and he's a very good 'top' in his own right. Plus I still have the 'hots' for him, or as I call it, my 'crush' on him. He'll be lucky if I don't attack him in his Mom's car on the way to the apartment.

Danny leaves his arm around my shoulders squeezing me against him, as he mutters. "You feel good so I like squeezing you." I turn my head to look at his profile and notice the hair on the side of his head has grown over the tops of his ear. Oh fuck, I hope he doesn't bring up our haircut situations! Forgetting that, I concentrate instead on this unexpected development and I lean my head over and give Danny a kiss on the cheek near his mouth. That initiates the beginning of another boner for me and it rubs against the pre-cum spot in my shorts that came compliments of the boner I got in the bleachers thinking about Ryan ten minutes ago. Fucking boners, ya know?

Danny gives me a squeeze after I kiss his cheek and then he mumbles, "Goddamn, I always need to tell you to be patient, babe! Gawd you've got the 'hots' for me something terrible, don't you?" I goofily say in a cartoon voice, "Oh gee, Danny, you're so right." He laughs and says, "Hey, I wanna do this as much as you do, but we can't do it here!" I mutter, "No shit, Einstein!" and he goes, "You're really gonna get it, ya know that?" I go, "Oh no!" and he's like, "Heh heh, yeah, I'm gonna fuck that perfect ass of yours... oh man!"

Well, I sure as hell hope so. When we're in Danny's car, I ask, "Will you get to use this car all semester?" He shakes his head, "Nope, it's my Mom's car, as you know. She needs it on Monday and I'm planning on asking either you or Rob to follow me home tomorrow and give me a ride back," I go, "Rob might be willing to do that," and Danny chuckles, "You prick. Why wouldn't you do it?"

He looks so sexy with that sweaty cute face of his and his baseball cap on the back of his head like a little kid wears it. I jokingly mutter, "If I followed you home Sunday I'm afraid you'd want to fuck me again." He comes to a stop at the traffic light across from the apartment complex, saying, "You wish you'd be so lucky." Chuckling, I mutter, "Yeah, you're right," and he goes, "You're way cooler than anyone I know. Wouldn't it have been awesome if I was sharing the apartment with you and Rob? The three of us, ya know? Wow!"

Ha, I suggested that to Rob and he put a big fat 'NO!' on that idea. Not that I'd tell Danny that. It might hurt his feelings, so I say, "Jeez, we should have thought of that last summer." Danny drives across the street into the Royal Crest Estates and asks, "Which way do I go, Dylan?" Oh shit! Rob was calling out all the things to watch for. Hmmm, what the hell were those landmarks he wanted to remember? I go, "Um, go straight, Danny," and I direct him to last year's apartment building to get my bearings. It's a long way around but we get to this year's apartment building after only running into one dead end.

While parking, Danny mumbles, "Christ, you guys are at the very end of the complex. This is the last building, huh?" Getting out of the car I go, "Yeah, but we've got a great view of wetlands and, um, forest from our balcony." Danny nods, "Probably a million mosquitoes in the summer too." I'm like, "We're not here during the summer!" and he gives me an exuberant hug almost making me trip over his feet, as he says, "Don't be so defensive, babe." I like that he's touchy/feely with me, assuming he doesn't make me break a leg or something.

We use the steps instead of the elevator with me going up first, Danny's giggling and pinching my ass on each step. Inside the apartment, he tosses his hat on the little kitchen table, takes my hat off and tosses it over with his, and then holds my head between his hands and gives me one of his extraordinarily sexy kisses. My hands go to his wide shoulders, a hand lightly on each one and then I hug him around his shoulders as he humps his hips bumping my hardening cock. Oh fuck, it's a twenty-second awesome kiss that I mostly just let happen without doing much myself except lean-in against him. When he pulls his mouth off mine he looks at me with a big grin on his face. I look back at him in a bit of a fog so he leans his head over and licks across my mouth and then lets go of me. My eyes blink spastically as Danny's looking over at the sliding glass doors at the end of the living room. He says, "Huh, you're right. That is a great fucking view! Looks like a picture." Good grief, he's done? That was a great start to some sexy foreplay and not he's admiring the view!

I follow him over to the 'view' and give the back of his neck a squeeze, saying, "Do you know that most guys don't ever include the hot, um, kissing you do for buddy sex? You know that, right?" He shrugs, "So what? You and me like doing it, right?" I nod my head, saying, "Um, yeah of course but you can't just stop on a dime like that." He's not paying attention though. Trying to open the sliding glass doors, he asks, "Shouldn't we have a beer and a smoke on the balcony, babe?" I'm like, "I don't want a beer but we have beers in the refrigerator if you want one." He shrugs, "If you don't want one I guess I don't either," and his hands go to my waist as he asks with a smirk, "What shall we do? Ya know until Rob gets here." I smirk back at him and he asks, "Ya wanna suck my dick?" Actually, I do... so I nod my head, mumbling, "That sounds okay."

Taking my hand he pulls me with him, saying, "Over here, Dylan, away from the window." I guess he's shy about wildlife seeing him get his pecker sucked. When we're in the short hall leading to the bathroom and bedroom, Danny says, "Okay, go for it, babe," and he drops his pants. I pull his underwear down and drop to my knees. Picking up his damp dick with my fingers I begin stroking it, and Danny says, "I'm a little sweaty. Hope you don't mind." Nope, I don't as I put the head of his penis in my mouth and suck on it while continue stroking his foreskin on and off the head. Danny, like Robby, is conscientious about cleaning under the foreskin so there's not much white matter there. Huh, actually this time there's none under Danny's foreskin.

I'm soon sucking on the head plus about three-inches of the shaft and it's all hard. Spit is drooling down my chin as I really get into sucking his cock and he's doing the usual messing with my hair. He's doing what he did last time pushing it back the wrong way. Danny groans now and shuffles his feet going, 'Umm, umm, ahhhh," and after another thirty seconds of that he grabs my head with both hands and begins humping his hips and fucking my throat. We've done this before and while there's some gagging, mostly because he's pushing the full six-inches of boner all the way down my throat I get a boner as hard as Danny's. I'm rubbing my crotch wishing I'd dropped my pants when he dropped his.

Danny's going, "Um, um, um, oh, oh, oh," and then he speeds up his humping for maybe fifteen seconds before he stops thrusting and presses his groin against my face, his pubic hairs all around my nose and mouth, and he shoots a big load of cum down my throat. After some serious heavy breathing, he begins thrusting again but only for another ten seconds before pulling his dick entirely out. Lots of cum and spit comes out with the head and most of it is drooling down my chin. Danny goes, "Holy fuck, that was great!" Now that he's had his orgasm, however, Danny's moving on to other matters. He pats my head, saying, "Yo, when I was messin' with your hair I remembered we still haven't done our haircuts, dude. What's up with that?" Oh boy, fuck our haircuts... what I need to do is to climax!

Grabbing his arm as I'm standing up, I go, "Never mind that, it's your turn, big boy," and I'm pulling my jeans down. My boner pops up when I get my jockey shorts past it. Danny goes, "Yum! Sure, okay," and he drops to his knees and puts my cock in his mouth. Danny's a really good cock sucker, but I already knew that. He sucks and licks my dick while stroking it and I cum in less than a minute breathing like a racehorse. A long stream of cum shoots out with Danny getting only some of it in his mouth as he pulls his head back and half my load shoots on his face.

Standing, he's chuckling while smearing the cum around in an attempt to wipe it off his chin and neck. We both get to laughing about that as I try helping him and we end up French kissing. He says I'm sexy but he's a very sexy guy himself. After that, I'm red-faced as we're pulling up our pants. Danny chuckles, saying, "Let's go sexy," and he takes my hand leading us to the bathroom and we clean up in there. Standing at the sink Danny makes eye contact with me in the mirror over the sink, saying, "I'm still gonna fuck you... so don't despair." Instead of being argumentative about his propensity to make our buddy sex appear as if he doing me a favor, I merely mutter, "Good plan."

When we're done in the bathroom, including peeing next to each other with dueling streams, I suggest that now is the time for a beer and a smoke on the balcony. Mostly I want to get Danny's mind off the haircuts. We get beers and go out the sliding glass doors to the balcony. As we're lighting cigarettes I'm noticing for the first time the crappy outdoor chairs that came with our apartment; two old beach chairs with rusting frames. They're the kind with the straps of plastic crisscrossing to form the seat and back.

After we both brush off the seats, we sit on the chairs and Danny goes, "Ya know, Dylan, having buddy sex with you seems so, um, natural and right. We're awesome together but I've told you that before. Hey, can we get in bed when I fuck you?" I shake my head mumbling, "Nope. That would be insulting to Robby because he could tell we did it in bed." Danny nods his head, "You're right, yeah. I never get a chance to fuck in bed though. That blows!" Obviously, he had his chance last week when I slept over but why rub that in. I go, "Yeah, bed-fucking is good."

For some casual conversation, I ask him how he expects he'll do scholastically this year. I expected him to shrug and bitch about going to class but instead, he goes on this long rant about how he knows just what he needs to do to graduate and then this summer he's taking courses for his teaching degree or teaching certificate. Plus, after the teaching certificate, he'll attend two programs run by 'name' college baseball coaches that he's already enrolled in. Furthermore, his Mom's sister, Danny's aunt, is on the Board of Education for the town of Framingham and Danny already has a teaching spot ready for him next fall. He tells me about many details, esoteric details about preparations he's made for after college to accomplish his goals. I'm totally impressed and kinda shocked too. He's got it all figured out which belies the airhead persona he likes to project. I'm thinking other teachers and coaches are going to underestimate Danny and he's gonna end up eating their lunch... so to speak.

Yeah, I'm surprised at how much thought and preparation he's put into it. He says, "Of course, the coaching position won't be a paid one initially, I know that because they never are. I'll be getting noticed though and gaining experience which I'll need to eventually be a head coach of a high school baseball program doing what I love and then hopefully moving on up to coach college ball. The teaching aspect will be a big part of it initially but maybe I'll transfer to an all-boys prep school later and, haha, wouldn't that be cool! Hands off the boys obviously but one can look ya know."

I'm seriously impressed and say, "You've got your plans for after graduation way better thought out than most seniors. Gee, I'm kinda proud to know ya, dude." He grins and leans over to give my shoulders a hug and then kisses the side of my head, my ear actually, before sarcastically mumbling, "As you can imagine, babe, that's all I was hoping for... you being proud to know me." I push him away, muttering, "That's what I get? Sarcasm? I was being supportive, you asshole!" He nods, "I knew that. I was just breaking your balls a little."

We talk about a few college-related topics and then goof on each other for half an hour before I realize time is slipping away. Rob said he'd be an hour and it's almost been that long now. Fuck, I knew Danny couldn't pull it off. This time it was the oral sex that got in the way of a good fucking... last week it was the booze. Well, we did fuck but I mean a good fucking in his unmade bed. Looking at my watch I'm about to say something about us being out of time when my cell phone 'pings'. Danny asks, "Was that yours or mine." I mutter, "I think it's mine," and pull my cell phone out of my pocket. A quick glance at it and I mumble, "Yeah, it's a text from Rob saying he'll be another twenty minutes or so."

Danny thinks about that for a second and then says, "Hot shit! We've got time. Where do you keep your haircutting stuff?" I'm like, "Haircut? Get fucking serious! What'd you tell me you were going to do the minute we got in this apartment?" He looks mystified, asking, "What?" I can't help but break out laughing. What a nut-case! Danny doesn't know why, but he laughs along with me until I say, 'You said you were going to fuck me a new asshole, that's WHAT!" He looks earnest as he saying, "Oh yeah, that's right. Let's get to bed real quick like." I go, "We had the 'bed' discussion a while ago... no bed-sex for you and me, not here anyway."

Danny says, "Yeah, yeah okay, but stand right there." He steps to me and puts his left hand behind my head. I'm expecting one of his indescribably fantastically sexy kisses but instead, he uses his fingers combing up my bangs, muttering, "I just want to get an updated idea of how a flattop will look on you, babe. I started figuring that out when you were sucking my dick but your mouth obviously got me distracted." I try to move away, saying, 'Will you forget about the..." but he jerks my head, saying, "Please! Just stand still for me and let me see." Making a face I stand here and he gets my hair sticking up in front as he mutters, "Yes, it'll be awesome," and then with excitement, "Okay, I'm satisfied! That's what I'll do. How about after dinner tonight?"

If I were a six-year-old girl I'd probably stamp my foot in frustration, but instead, I yell, "Danny! I'm wicked anxious for some buddy sex with you. Forget about the haircut bullshit!" He stops fucking with my hair and says, "Damn, you make me feel like a stud. Did you know my ego has risen like a hundred percent this summer because of you; because of you and the 'hots' you have for sexy ol' me." I go, "I'm happy for you, so let's get going already." He nods his head, "Of course. Hey, ya know, Hayden should be jealous of you. Fuck, so should Rob. No, I mean Rob should be jealous of me!" I go, "Nobody needs to be jealous of anybody. We're just passing some time with a little buddy sex. That's if you ever get around to it."

We go inside and Danny says, "Yeah, you're right again... there's nothing's more fun than some buddy sex. Is it okay if I give you a good spanking first? You know to get my juices flowing again?" Hell, that'll get my juices flowing too but I act reluctant, mumbling, "If you must, I suppose it'd be okay." He pulls my pants down without even unbuckling my belt, as he mutters, "Slim hips," and then he looks around and says, "There. Lean over the arm of that ratty looking sofa." I do that, mumbling, "It's not ratty looking; it's just the stain on the cushions that makes it look that way. We're getting a slipcover for it."

I may as well have been speaking Russian for all Danny paid attention to what I said as right away he whacks away at my ass, "SMACKSMACKSMACK," for fifteen seconds and it stings like mad but my dick firms up a little bit just the same. Then he stops and I hear him sort of laughing. Looking back at him I see he's got a hand over his mouth but in his eyes, I see laughter there. He goes, "Sorry for laughing but I can't help but laugh whenever I'm spanking my 'bottom' boys."

Jesus! That puts me off so I standup rubbing my stinging butt cheeks and mutter, "So much for that," and Danny goes, "No, lay over the arm again and I'll spank you some more. I go, "The hell with that," and he goes, "Okay, I'll fuck you like that." I watch him take his limp dick out through the fly of his pants and then he shakes his head and pulls his pants down to his knees. My jeans are bunched around my ankles now as I'm still standing here next to the end of the sofa. Danny strokes his penis, saying, "I've got a condom I should probably use so Rob doesn't detect my cum in your ass later." Whatever.

Forgetting the condom for the moment, he strokes his cock fast with long strokes. After a half dozen strokes he puts his head back, still pulling on his meat, and moaning, "Ummmm, oooh, so good," and then he stops and straightens up looking at me, saying, "Well, go ahead, Dylan, lay over the arm of that sofa." I do that and he comes over still stroking his now hard dick. He goes, "Damn, this feels good. Oh, um, you can't spread your legs, huh?" As he surprises me by actually rolling a condom on his boner. I mutter, "How can I spread my legs with my fucking pants at my ankles." He says, "No problem, it'll be tighter so it's okay this way. It'll only be a quickie."

I feel the head of the slippery condom at my asshole and then, "Ahhh!" from me as the condom's nipple and then the full head forces its way in past my sphincter. Danny pulls it right out though, emphatically saying, "You're too low!" as if it was my idea to lean over the arm of the sofa. He shrugs when I look at him and then he mutters, "I need to scrunch down too much. It'll be better if you stand up."

Getting up off the sofa's arm I stand and Danny's left arm goes around my belly. He pulls me back against him, murmuring, "You're awesomely cooperative, babe," and his cock goes in my asshole again. I didn't expect it that quick and I go, "Umph," and bend at the waist with Danny's arm slipping away. He grips my hips with both hands and pushes his cock all the way up my ass with my tight anus reluctantly opening just barely wide enough to accommodate his condom encased boner. Lots of the lube gets stripped from the condom against the tight lips of my asshole and the lubricant quickly warms enough to drool around both sides of my butt cheeks and around to the back of my balls. Danny moans, "Mmmmmm, motherfucker! Wow, this feels good! I like the feel of this condom too. It's a nice change." I grunt, "Ummm," but it's already feeling good for me too.

Danny's cock is excellent for fucking. Big around enough for sure, and plenty long enough, but not too big or too long. It's kinda perfect, like mine! For support, I put a hand on each knee and close my eyes to absorb all the sexy sensations of that full-feeling inside me. Danny leans over, his belly lying on my lower back as he takes my firm cock in his fist and starts jerking me off with fast tight long strokes the way he does it on his own cock. He strokes fast... stroke,stroke,stroke,stroke,stroke with me squirming and moaning, "Um, um, um, um ooh Danny, um, um... ooh, I'm gonna cum." He stops and chuckles before straightening up and then begins doing long thrust of his condom covered boner, his hips smoothly and tightly moving that hard cock back and forth in my ass. I grit my teeth because it feels fantastic. A little pain but that just adds to my pleasure. It's awesome! Then he starts doing it harder and faster and now the "Slapslapslap," sounds ring out in the room as his body slaps against my butt cheeks.

Like last time I'm amazed his cock doesn't pull completely out of my ass because his withdrawals distend my anus almost to the point where the head of his cock will slip out entirely, but it never does and a fraction of a second later that hard cock is sliding right back up inside me. I'm soon writhing with sexual pleasure and moaning, "Aah, aah, aah, ooh Danny, aah!" His boner is longer than the six inches it is when flaccid and that hard cock of his 'owns' my ass sending me into the higher levels of sexual pleasure. All of Danny's goofy routine before he gets seriously into fucking is forgotten because he can fuck really good when he puts his mind to it. Like Danny said, it's fun... and it's obvious how much he likes fucking.

My second climax of the afternoon has ignited and is rapidly reaching the tipping point and then Danny stops thrusting and grunts, "Oh Christ, I almost shot my load." He's breathing noisily and then chuckles as he lies on my back, saying, "But I want you to cum first my awesomely cute bottom boy." Ever the playful boy, that's Danny. My orgasm symptoms subside slightly but it's still feeling fantastic having Danny's engorged cock impaling me. He humps against my buttocks a few times as he snickers and asks, "How's that feel?" I gasp, "You know how it feels. I love it!"

He humps against my ass a few more times and then puts his left arm around my side, his hand on my chest and his fingers flipping at my nip ring. The fist of his right-hand goes around my boner again with Danny murmuring, "Oh, this is a big boy boner now, Dylan." He starts jerking me off again doing the same long, fast and tight strokes he always does. I'm groaning and moaning as my orgasm grows and grows. He continues stroking. I can't move much with my pants around my ankles even though I'd like to shuffle a little bit with my climax coming on faster by the second. I moan whiny sounds, "Eh, eh, eh, oh, oh, oh," as his fist strokes my super sensitive cock while his hips move his hard cock with fast hard short thrusts right on my prostate gland. It's sensation-overload and my body tightens and I try humping my hips as Danny milks a nice little second climax out of my nuts. It's a stream of cum shooting out and then it's chased by a smaller cum-shot. I can't catch my breath. His fist is still a blur up and down on my iron boner. Tiny black dots seem to float in front of my eyes. I go, "Ahhhh, um, um, Danny, umm,"

With sensations sizzling around my groin Danny squeezes my cock getting cum drools running down his fingers. He stops the short thrusting and lets go of my cock while slowly lifting his hand to my mouth as he murmurs, "Go ahead, babe, lick that shit off my fingers." In a trance, I lick off my own cum drools and then he presses his fingers against my lips until I open my mouth a little and without saying another word he pushes two fingers inside my mouth... his forefinger and middle finger. I lick and suck on his fingers as he murmurs, "That's right, babe, suck my fingers," and I swear I feel his boner grow bigger inside my ass.

I'm in one of my hypnotized state of minds by now as Danny carefully wipes his fingers on my tongue and then sides his forefinger out and pushes my top lip inside out before wiping his saliva coated forefinger up against the front of my nose. He holds it there for two seconds and then, without saying anything, he lifts up and begins thrusting that great boner of his in my ass again, "Slapslapslap," sounds ringing out as he fucks my ass hard for a minute. My boner again sticks straight out and as Danny grunts and breaths noisily, humping against my buttocks and cumming in the condom I have a phantom orgasm that makes my whole body shake, mostly caused by Danny's surprising dominant move of sticking his cum-laden fingers in my mouth.

Only after Danny pulls his cock out of my ass and playfully smacks my ass, asking, "How'd you like that, babe?" do I realize how submissive he got me during the last three minutes or so. I'm still feeling it as I straighten up and look at him. It gives me shivers realizing how fabulously unexpected that dominance on Danny's part was. It was too unexpected for words. I don't know what to tell him because I'm sure he doesn't even realize what he did. To Danny, it was probably just some goofing around.

He asks again, with his big grin, "How'd you like licking the cum off my fingers?" I manage to smile and say, "That was disgusting," and he laughs, "No it wasn't. It was sexy the way you did that. I already told you, you're a sexy motherfucker, dude. Probably the sexiest of anyone I've ever known. That right there, that sex we had was a dynamite blast!" and he pulls off the condom and then pulls his pants up grinning at me which isn't unusual... Danny's smiling or grinning almost all the time. A happy camper.

I'm still a little shellshocked, especially having that third orgasm in such a short time frame. Phantom or not, it felt really hot and sexy. Danny goes, "Don't space out on me again!" and he takes my hand, as he's been doing lately. I go, "Wait a second," and reach down to pull up my pants. He pulls me to the bathroom for some cleaning up. The first thing he does is flush the condom and then he grabs the waistband of my jeans to pull my pants and underwear down further, saying, "Let me wipe the lube off your ass."

By the time we're cleaned-up and dried off my minor submissive trance has left the building. I go, "That was, um, really above average buddy sex, Danny. Seriously." He snorts out a laugh leaning on me, his arms around my shoulders, and says, "Bullshit, above average! That's the best buddy sex you've had in a couple of years." Ha, he's probably right but I go, "Get serious," and he rubs my head, messing up my hair, mumbling, "I am serious," and then just like that he's onto another subject, asking, 'What are we going to have for dinner?" I mumble, "I don't know. I'll check the freezer and see what we have."

The hell with dinner. Oh man though, as we walk to the kitchen I feel the lubricant from the condom inside my rectum and, wow, this turned out to be a good afternoon! I smile at Danny and he goes, "Feeling good, huh? I told you I'd take care of you, didn't I?" I mutter, "Get real," but what would be perfect is if he'd do one of those fantastically sexy kisses to top it all off. That would round everything off and put an explanation point on our buddy sex. I know he won't and it's not appropriate buddy sex behavior anyhow, but with Danny... Oh well, instead I'm like, "What'd I say a minute ago? I already told you it was above average buddy sex. You're above average; that's pretty good."

Danny chuckles, mumbling, "You prick! That was the best buddy sex you've had in years," and as I start walking to the kitchen he grabs me from behind pulling me against his chest. He gets his arms around the front of my neck and says in my ear, "Admit it was the best or you'll hurt my feelings." I shrug, saying, "Okay, it was the best buddy sex I've had in years." Letting go of me, he says, "Don't you feel better about being truthful? So, what are we having for dinner?"

Opening the refrigerator, I mumble, "I don't know what to make for dinner. What do you feel like having?" He goes, "I always feel like steak. I'm a carnivore, dude. Well, a good salad to go with a juicy steak is okay too." Opening the freezer door I see we have six New York strip steaks, each about a half pound. Nice cut of beef, strip steaks! I chose the three with the best marbling. That's where a lot of the flavor comes from.

The microwave oven does a nice job of defrosting frozen meat when using the 'defrost' button. Sure, it's a pain in the ass because you need to turn everything over every time the microwave 'beeps' and it takes a few minutes, but the defrost cycle doesn't partially cook the steaks like could happen if you just stick the steaks in and put some time on the regular microwave setting. That's no good!

I hold up the steaks, saying, "For you, Mr. Above Average, strip steaks." He goes, "Are those New York strip steaks?" I say, "Yep, and they're also Delmonico and Kansas City steaks depending who you're talking too, or some chefs just refer to these steaks as just plain strip steaks." He goes, "What?" and I'm like, "Yeah, different names for the exact same cut of meat. This cut of meat is tender and flavorful." He goes, "Yeah but, but those steaks you're holding are the New York strip steaks type, right?" I mutter, "What'd I just fucking say?" and I hear a key in the front door. Danny and I look over like we wonder who's there. Jesus! I go, "It's Rob," and Danny goes, "I knew that!"

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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Next: Chapter 11


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