DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter 27
by Donny Mumford
Pony's much-improved attitude has been very noticeable to me, and to anyone who knows him probably. He's back to being himself for better or worse depending, I suppose, on one's opinion of him previously. Thinking back on it, I can't help but feel if Pony and his parents conspired to intentionally push all the wrong buttons last summer, they couldn't have screwed themselves up any more than they did. Egos and ignorance clashed to fuck-up a family's summer and I don't think that absurd drama was especially unique either. I'll bet similar family cluster-fucks have played out in one form or another a hundred million times going back ten thousand years. It's easy to blame immaturity for the part Daryl played in the family's idiotic summer, but what's his parents' excuse?
Anyway, Pony and I are presently outside his dormitory having a smoke and feeling pretty good after our second sexathon of senior year. We had oral and anal sex and it was pretty good. I'm exhaling smoke, looking around on this sunny albeit chilly Sunday late in the afternoon thinking, no, I'm not really ready for the colder weather we're beginning to experience this third or fourth week of fall, not that that has anything to do with anything; we're basically just killing time anticipating a sexy encore. Of course, sex is part of the reason for our good moods as it often is, but other aspects of life are okay too. That's especially true for Pony considering how low he was when he got off that plane early last month at Logan.
It's obvious Pony's happy with our relationship both as friends AND as sex buddies, but mostly his positive and happy frame of mind is because he's back in the good graces of his parents. His father's threat, bogus as I've always contended it was to pull Pony out of college, is now completely off the table and off Pony's mind.
Last summer's bitter acrimony has been replaced with pleasant emails and phone conversations between the family members. And, weirdly, Pony's 'selfie' sent to his folks showing off his too-short flattop haircut from Danny is what cemented the good terms Pony and his family enjoys. Crazy, huh? That selfie was sent against my advice but it appears to have completed a process of improving relations that Pony and I started at Rolf's Bar last week. Now everything is peaches and cream between the Pontis... so, that's good.
Oh, and Pony's become a huge 'fanboy' of his new barber. The way Pony tells it, Danny flattered him saying the true flattop 'look' he gave Pony is perfect for him and nobody has ever looked better with that particular haircut. Haha, Danny tried convincing me of basically that same bullshit. Also, Danny planted a big sloppy kiss on Pony's mouth which impressed him tremendously. He is, after all, starved for attention and very receptive to anyone willing to give it to him. Whatever... Pony thinks Danny's wicked cool now.
After taking a drag off the cigarette he bummed off me, Pony says excitedly, "Goddamn, Dylan, I feel super awesome!" and he laughs, adding, "I know, I'm acting like a nerd but I don't give a shit," and he yells out loud, "I'm happy to be back at college," and he does a little jig. Actually, he does look a little bit nerdy with that too-short silly flattop haircut and his new eyeglasses! Okay... a cute nerd. A flattop haircut and eyeglasses do not go well together. I'm not sure why, but no one ever looked cool with those two components.
Still, I can't help but smile at Pony's exuberance and I'm very glad to see the 'old' Pony again. Yeah, the carefree cute goof, the one I became very fond of last year. Even so, I mumble, "Will you please stop acting nerdy. Yelling out like that and dancing in the street is attracting the wrong kind of attention." He goes, "Hey! After I called myself a nerd, you're supposed to convince me I'm not nerdy! Instead, you criticized me." Oh boy! I mutter, "Oh, okay, you're not nerdy."
Actually, I don't care about any of that. What I'm mostly thinking about is our recent sex with me the 'top'. Oh man, I'm really getting into 'topping'! Yeah, I'm getting into that bad-ass 'topping' thing big time! And, no, I don't mean I want to 'top' Rob or Danny. I wouldn't think of changing a thing about the sex I'm having with those two. Me topping Pony was awesome though and I'm all geared up for our encore!
Hmmm, this is crazy but I have the strongest urge to ask him how he liked me topping his ass. It's a really strong urge that I'm fighting off because I don't want to be like every other guy who fucks someone and then expects compliments about what a great 'top' they were. Fucking egos, ya know?
Pony likes his sex rough too and he's very much into playing the submissive role which an interesting aspect of 'topping' him. I find there's a certain allure to acting dominant with him. Never thought about that 'side' of things before, but it's kinda hot seeing him slip right into the submissive role. Reminds me of myself at an earlier age. The problem is I can't work up what it takes to be as rough with Pony as he wants. I just can't do it! Fuck, he actually liked when that kid, Chickie, or whatever his name is, smacked Pony's face repeatedly as Pony was sucking the kid's dick. I couldn't do that! I wouldn't mind smacking Chickie's face for a while though.
Jesus, look at him! Pony's jumpy and full of energy. He can't stand still as he lightly punches my shoulder, asking, "We're gonna do it again, right?" Trying for blasé because, after all, I am supposed to be the experienced slightly-dominant 'top' here. Casually, I say, "If you want to, sure... I guess." He mutters, "You want to as much as I do!" and then he takes out his cell phone and punches up his dad's text, saying, "Heh heh, this will be more nerdy behavior on my part but I like rereading the text from my old man. I've already read it ten times." Nodding, I mutter, "It's a good text alright." He reads his dad's text, his lips moving as he reads, and then nods his head approvingly while mumbling, "You and I came up with the perfect solution to that slippery situation, Dylan. Heh heh, we conned my old man into thinking I agreed with all his criticisms of me." Chuckling, I say, "We conned him? Get a grip! You're the one who did cave in on every single point he made. What are you talking about... conning him?" He laughs, "Oh fuck, you're right, haha. It doesn't matter though... we're all good, and in the process, I discovered this cool new 'look' for myself, this flattop 'look'." Omigod!
I'm not gonna burst his bubble by telling him he looks like a goof with his too-short flattop and eyeglasses. If you can't say something nice, ya know? So I keep my mouth shut but jeez, he's still a cute motherfucker when he's acting all geeked-up like this. I give the back of his neck an affectionate squeeze, reiterating, "Yep, and it's you who deserves the credit for starting the ball rolling that got the discord resolved. Um, discord you mostly created yourself of course, but... whatever."
Yeah, I can't let Pony entirely off the hook for his summer of troubles. He goes, "But it was their fault too, right?" I nod my head, saying, "Yep, that's true too and like I told you before, I'm of the opinion that, frankly, one of your parents should have taken the first step. They didn't and you did, so it's all good and mucho kudos to you." Jesus, we're beating a dead horse here. Let's get going with the encore!
I give the back of his skinny neck a little bit of a tighter squeeze this time and it makes Pony hunch his shoulders and grins at me, saying, "You have no idea how good it makes me feel that you said that, that you give me credit for straightening my folks out and proving I was right all along." What the fuck? I said the opposite!
I'm like, "Um, not to make too fine a point of it, but I'm not saying you straightened your parents out. I'm merely giving you the credit for getting things rolling to a solution." He frowns, "Um, yeah, I guess." I go, "Look, Pony, don't take this the wrong way, um, I understand why you're still fixated on the family situations but it's probably time for you to move on, ya know? It was ballsy of you to take the initiative and all that, but you really need to drop it, dude." He brightens, "Whoa, good 'talk', Dylan! Ya know what, you're the best friend I ever had!" I mutter, "Oh, thank you, that's sweet." Jesus, that's not saying much considering how his previous best friend dumped him when Pony said he thought he might be bisexual. What'd Pony tell me... they'd grown up as neighbors and best friend for like fifteen years and then that's all it took for that other dip-shit to break-off the friendship! Major asshole alert!
Damn though, haha, right now I'm mostly interested in picturing Pony's hot ass and I'm itchy for us to do it again. Ya know, it's awesome the way everything of a sexual nature is turning out so well for me my senior year. After that fuck-less summer who would have thought that this could be my best year ever, sex-wise, and to be honest everything else-wise too.
Then, just as I'm about to suggest we go back inside and start a hot make-out like Pony suggested, my cell phone pings indicating a text message. Damn, I do a little jump 'cause the 'ping' from my pocket startled me. I'm wrapped a little too tight, I guess. I need to relax more.
Pulling my phone out I see a text from Rob telling me practice is over early. Well, balls! He's asking if we need anything at the store on his way to the apartment. Oh, how domestic of him! That's nice. Yeah, but he thinks I'm at the apartment. I text back to tell him I'm on campus and I ran into Pony at the Quad and blah, blah, blah... and then I add that I'll walk down and meet him at the ballpark. Rob texts back saying he'll wait for me inside the locker room and I should just go right inside. With this new head coach character, I never know when Rob's gonna be done practice. The coach sometimes has short practices and then other days the practices go on much longer. Not very considerate, ya know?
Anyway, now I look over at Pony and make a 'face'. He goes, "What?" Shrugging I mumble, "Sorry, buddy, but I gotta pass on our encore. I'll make it up to you soon though." He goes, "Why can't you stay? Who was that text from?" I tell him and explain I couldn't think of any reason to tell Rob why I'd be another fifteen minutes. Plus, I do not want to walk back to the fucking apartment, so I need the ride. Shaking his head, he mutters, "Yeah, I see what you mean. If I had bought that motorbike last summer I could give you a ride back after we screwed again!" I snort out a laugh, muttering, "Yeah, the motorbike. Well, um... anyway I gotta take off." He goes, "Dammit! And our class schedules are fucked up too! When can I see you again?"
Yeah, we do have partially conflicting schedules. He's in class when I'm not, and so forth. There are a couple of days a week when we're both free in the afternoon though. I say, "Whaddaya talking about? We have at least two afternoons a week and then on the weekends occasionally, you know when my lover-boy is at baseball practice." He goes, "But you're forgetting my roommate Donald. We have that thingie we're doing for college credit and that takes up one of those days I'll be working at the YMCA." I'm trying to be patient with him 'cause he's still vulnerable after all his stress with the family and whatnot, but I can't help getting a little irritated at his whining, so I go, "Hey, first of all, that's a good thing you're doing at the YMCA! And what the fuck, you and I can't get together mornings anyway!" He says, "Don't yell at me, Dylan. It hurts my feelings." I quietly say, "That wasn't yelling. And you're not doing the work at the YMCA just for the credits I hope."
Ignoring that, Pony says, "Can you at least come back in the room for a short make-out? You're the one who's big on us kissing." Oh, Christ, that bull-doody again! I can't help but snort out a chuckle though, and then say, "No, as enticing as that sounds I fear I'd get too aroused by you and not be able to stop." He goes, "See that... you're always making fun of me too." I go, "Don't be a baby! I'm not making fun of you! I'm making fun of myself if anything. I'll give you a kiss goodbye right here if you want." He looks around, saying, "Omigod, don't do that!" So I give him an awkward hug instead, saying, "I had a great time with you this afternoon. You look, um, great too and, well, I'll text you, okay?" He nods, saying, "It was fun! More than fun actually, but it was too quick." I nod, saying, "Yeah, I know... text me whenever you want," and I begin backing away. He goes, "You text me!" and I say, "Yeah, well I usually do, don't I?" He starts heading back to his dorm, calling over his shoulder, "You better text me."
Why do I always need to be the one who texts everybody? Oh man though, 'topping' him was fun sex! Looking back I see he's looking back at me so I wave and he waves back with that cute smile of his. Damn, I like that kid! It's funny, as in odd, that there are certain people we somehow connect with in more special ways than we do with most of the other people we know. I'd be hard-pressed to describe why Pony is one of those special people for me. I hope it isn't simply that he reminds me of myself. Well, Pony's not much younger than me anyway, so that reason has some holes in it. I don't know what it is exactly, but so what? It's cool.
Dormitory row is only a few blocks from the ballpark so I don't have a lot of time to figure out how to break the news to Robby we're having a dinner party for twelve guys this Saturday night. He'll be thrilled, I'm sure... heh heh. I should have consulted with him first, obviously, but it was a spur of the moment thing. And fuck, now I'm not even sure why I invited all those guys. The only thing I can think of is I wanted Connor over for dinner but, because of his Neanderthal boyfriend I felt it'd work out better if I had other guys around. Was that it? Jesus, I hope not! I'm not afraid of Stosh...
At the door to the locker room, there's a sign saying 'Official Personnel Only'. That's me, right? I go inside and see Rob and Carl talking. They're away from the other ballplayers who are mostly goofing around yelling and whatnot. Typical jock behavior. Carl's back is up against the wall and Robby's got a hand on each of Carl's shoulders. He's talking to Carl with a serious expression on his face. Undoubtedly mentoring him in some meaningful manner. Unless he's getting ready to kiss him. Haha, no, he wouldn't do that with all these teammates around. I go, "Hey, numb-nuts! Whassup?" They both look over and smile at me without a trace of guilt, so maybe Rob was discussing some mentoring points about batting or something.
Rob goes, "Wow, you're in a good mood, babe. Wassup yourself?" When I walk over, we all do light fist bumps as I say, "Nah, mostly I'm just glad my hangover is history. How you feeling, Rob?" He goes, "Oh fuck, I'm dragging. I was just telling Carl about us drinking too much at dinner last night." Us? How about his parents! I don't see anything I can add to that without mentioning Rob's parents, so I say, "Well then... how you doing, Carl?" He says, "I'm not hung-over, for one thing," and I mutter, "Ya don't know what you're missing," and the three of us drift over to the door.
Rob has his arm across Carl's shoulders as he says to me, "And I was telling Carl that you and I have work to do tonight, as in the real-world-business stuff, so Carl here cannot join us for dinner again tonight." He's referring to that part-timer's report for Dickers & Son. Oh, fuck, I forgot about that.
I go, "Yeah, it's a shame you can't come for dinner, Carl. Hey, do you even know where your dining hall is? I mean, have you eaten there yet?" Rob gives Carl's shoulders a hug as he chuckles and says, "Don't be mean to my young mentoree, Dylan," and then to Carl, "You've been in your dining hall once or twice, right?" Carl says, "About twenty times, yeah! You senior guys are making fun of me again. My feelings would be hurt except I've been with you guys enough to know you hurt everyone's feelings... including each other." Rob mutters, "It's called ball busting, my young friend. If no one is busting your balls you're not with true friends." Rob and I slap hands as Carl goes, "I'm used to a kinder more gentle group of friends. All we do is compliment and encourage one another." Robby goes, "Boring! Are you saying you only know pussies? That's boring, Carl."
They both have on their baseball caps so I can't see Carl's flattop. I want to check it out again because I think Danny gave Pony an even shorter haircut than Carl's. Well, what the fuck, if I wanna see if Carl's shiny red hair I'll take his freakin' hat off. As we're walking, that's what I do and then put his baseball cap on my head, asking him, "Did Danny tell you that'd you'd need another haircut in two or three weeks?" He reaches for his hat, saying, "Yeah, why?" Pulling my head away from his hand, I go, "That's what he told Pony too and I was just wondering if he told you that." Rob grabs the hat off my head and gives it to Carl, mumbling, "I'm glad this day is almost over. My fucking head is aching again and I'm wicked tired." Whoa, grumpy! I cheerfully say, "Take a nap, Rob... chill out, dude."
Huh, I'll be dammed! Pony's haircut is just like Carl's. Well, they look different because Carl's red hair isn't as dense as Pony's brown hair. I can see some of Carl's pink scalp, other than that they are identical haircuts. How the hell could Danny duplicate that fairly difficult haircut on both guys so perfectly, and with Carl and Pony having very different hair types? And I don't just mean the different color hair but the texture and hairlines, and there's a cowlick in Carl's hair and... oh, fuck, I couldn't do it nearly as well. I admit that... only to myself of course, heh heh.
At the pickup, Rob gives Carl a pat on the back, mumbling, "See you at practice tomorrow." Carl says, "Yep. Oh, and Dylan, my roommate wanted me to tell you thanks for including him for dinner Saturday night." I nod, "Oh, um, no problem." A little wave of his hand and Carl walks toward dormitory row. Rob gives me a blank stare and I go, "What?" Unlocking the pickup, he says, "Carl already told me you invited him and his roommate to dinner Saturday night. What's up with that?"
In the pickup, I'm like, "Whaddaya mean? Carl's always eating at our place anyway so I thought it'd be nice to give his roommate a good meal too." Starting the engine, Rob's making a face like, 'What the fuck?' So again I'm like, "What?" He snorts out a laugh and then drives us out of the parking lot, mumbling "It's just, um... ah, it's weird that's all. Out of the blue you invite Carl and his roommate to dinner. It's weird! Normally it's like a last minute thing when we say to someone, ya know, um, ya wanna stay for dinner?" I go, "Oh, I just remembered something... I also invited Danny and his roommate. You know his roommate, Carl Hill, right? He's better known by his nickname, Specks. That's convenient or there would be two Carls ya know."
We're already off campus idling at the traffic light at Route 114. Rob looks at me, asking, "Yeah, I know Specks. What's with you and roommates though?" I'm like, "I was thinking we'd have an Italian dinner 'cause that's easy for a crowd." Rob goes, "You think six guys is a 'crowd'?" I'm like, "Oh, and Chubby's coming with his roommate, um, John Beverly. I believe he's Chub's roommate again this year, isn't he? He said he'd make the meatballs, Chubby said that, not John Beverly. Maybe you can do the salad." He snorts out another laugh as he drives across Route 114, saying, "Your brother and John Beverly for dinner too, huh?"
Pulling onto the Royal Crest grounds, he asks, "Anybody else coming to dinner?" I go, "Hmmm, ya know, I was still hung-over this afternoon when I got up from that nap we had. And we were definitely over-served last night at dinner, doncha think?" Chuckling, he goes, "No, but who else is coming to dinner." I'm like, "You'd already left for the ballpark, so..." Robby goes, "I know what I did. I'm trying to find out what you did. Who else did you invite to dinner Saturday night?" I go, "Did I mention Connor and his Neanderthal roommate, Stosh?" Robby laughs out loud and then holds his head, mumbling, "Ow, it hurts to laugh and, no, I don't believe you mentioned anything about a Neanderthal. Anyone else?" Frowning, I mumble, "Let's me think. I said Pony and his roommate, Donald. And..." Robby goes, "No! No, you didn't mention those two yet either!" Now I'm snickering and then mumbling, "I think I was still drunk..."
Pulling into a perfect front row parking spot, Robby's like, "You nut! Counting us two that's twelve guys. We've got a small apartment... where will everyone eat?" When we're both out of the pickup, I mutter, "You never want to have anyone over, so..." Rob gets his arm around the back of my neck pulling my head over to his as he's mumbling, "It'll be fun." I go, "That's exactly what I thought you'd say," and we walk up to the front door of the building. I punch in the password and in we go.
Keeping his arm around my neck we start going up the steps as Robby jokingly says, "You know of course you've got a hard spanking and a hard fucking coming, right?" I go, "Oh, fuck! Yeah, I was naughty, but another hard spanking?" Going up the steps, he's like, "Oh yeah, there are consequences for your actions. I might need to use my slipper to spank you with." I go, "Oh no, not your slipper with the leather sole!" We're at the first landing on the stairs when we see a man and woman, probably husband and wife, looking over their shoulders at us from the top of the stairs. Omigod, haha, they were around the bend in the stairs so we didn't see them. Oh shit, they must have heard us fucking around saying that nonsensical shit as we were coming up the steps. Rob looks startled when he sees them. The couple hurries into the first apartment on the right.
Letting go of me, Rob goes, "Jesus Christ! They heard us joking around." That makes me laugh and then blush a little. If I could just get my blushing under control, I'd be one step closer to Chubby's attitude about, well about everything, which is... 'fuck 'em!' It's embarrassing they heard us talking about spanking and fucking but I've finally got the part down where I laugh at something like that. Embarrassing, sure, but I just laugh it off and now I need to work on the not blushing. Then, in that one regard, I'll be just like my brother. Nah, I can't pull that off! I mutter, "Good to almost meet our neighbors though." Robby snickers and mumbles, "Let's get inside."
Inside the apartment, Rob's like, "Seriously though, I've gotta lay down for an hour. I need a nap." I'm like, "Yeah well, your parents over-served us last night no matter what you say, so we're paying the price." He chuckles, "Yeah, I guess you're right because how the hell could it be our fault we drank too much." Then he adds, "But seriously, you're really gonna get it after my nap... slipper and all." I go, "Oh fuck, you mean I need to wait until after your nap?" Robby snickers, muttering, "Afraid so, babe."
He flops down on the sofa and I sit on the arm of it, asking, "What were you so serious about with Carl when you had him up against the wall at the ballpark?" He makes a 'face' asking, "Um when you came into the locker room, you mean?" I nod, and he says, "Oh Christ, I was giving him some shit. I was being a prick telling him that he and his freshman friend, Oscar Small, were acting like high school kids goofing around during calisthenics and how what he does reflects on me. I was a little pissed at him and mostly I was tired too I guess. Hell, those guys are still kids, they're only eighteen, so..."
Huh, he really does take his mentoring job seriously. Hopping off the arm of the sofa, I mutter, "Oh," and then add, "I think I'll make a root beer float. Do ya want one?" Rob goes, "Please, Dylan, just let me sleep for an hour, okay?" I go, "Well excuse me for living!" Rob mutters, "Speaking of high school kids..." Meaning me? Heh heh, I let that slide though because he's tired and a little irritable.
Yeah, but now I'm self-conscious about making noise as I'm putting together my root beer float. Christ, just opening the freezer makes a sound I never noticed before and then snapping the tab on the can of root beer makes another sound and then I drop the ice cream scoop on the floor 'CLANG... BANG!" Looking over at Rob I'm covering my mouth snickering as I hear him huffing. Well, he should be taking his nap in the bedroom.
Rob naps for almost two hours and then he's mister-conscientious again anxious to make some serious headway with the report for Dickers & Son. We order out for pizza and then work together on his part-timer's report until eleven-thirty at night. Weirdly, I got seriously into it feeling good about helping with this project. Rob was super appreciative that I hung in there with him and frankly, I don't know how he thought he could do it on his own. It's definitely a two-man job working from two different printouts and in some cases three printouts. Rob would go cross-eyed trying to do that alone.
Obviously, I was interested to see if my name showed up on the over-time printouts. It didn't but neither did the names of other part-timers. The name of the projects and the department's name 1appear on the lists with the names of the managers who approved the expenditures, but no mention of overpaying Dylan Newman. Mr. Dickers approved my expenditure anyway, and nobody was going to say shit about that. Some of the other managers who approved large amounts of overtime payments might have some explaining to do though.
We made really good progress getting through one section of printouts but when we started making errors it was obvious we were too tired so we wisely stopped. Only a few hugs and kisses in bed before we both conk-out... too tired for anything else. I didn't mind skipping sex tonight although the joking threat of a spanking with Rob's slipper and then a hard fucking sounded pretty good earlier. Haha, except Rob doesn't have slippers, not with a leather sole anyway. Fortunately, Pony and I were able to fit that quick fuck in or otherwise today would have been the first day of my senior year without sex of any kind... horrors!
Monday mornings we have an early class so there's no time for Rob and I do any hanky-panky and no time for breakfast this morning either. We got up late and then this full week of classes seems to pass by in a blur.
Yeah, it seemed like MondayTuesdayWednesdayThursday getting up and going to classes, studying and going to bed sleeping after fucking... oh, and some food intake in between. A blur of numbing one-hour and two-hour classes, boring professors, more working with Rob on the Dickers & Son report, working on our next day's class assignments and the merry-go-round goes round and round with some pop quizzes thrown in and hot sex in bed and then start everything all over again while missing lunches, eating late dinner until I don't know what day it is. Rob's baseball practice and...oops, no side sex for me all week; none at all. But Rob and I do not neglect our sex time together... so I survive.
Yeah, no side sex this week for me... no problem, not really! This week was an aberration in that regard, a convolution of unfortunate events where nothing worked out right for me, not in the buddy sex department anyway. The good news is, as I inferred, Robby energetically continued being 'my man', my lover and I gotta say he certainly enjoys that role of being a sexy lover, even a hungry one. And I mean we're doing 'it' enthusiastically more than once a day which makes all the other stuff palatable and in some instances, colleges is even fun. We're enjoying ourselves doing things together and grinning as we get our sexual reward. The reward being each other, basically. After saying all that, I am disappointed I didn't get to do my pretend-dominant 'topping' act with Pony.
Neither of the two afternoons Pony and I had available to get together worked out the way we wanted, but we'll catch up next week. Yeah, the first afternoon we did do our running and fitness room exercises but then couldn't do the buddy sex because Pony's roommate inexplicably and inconsiderately was studying in their dorm room. It was the first day this semester he didn't do his studying with his girlfriend in the library, and then another first-time-ever event happened the second afternoon we had 'free' time together. For the first time ever, to my knowledge, the pickup wouldn't start after Rob's and my last class. He walked to the ballpark leaving me to sort out the pickup situation. Instead of buddy sex, Pony and I spent the rest of that afternoon hanging around the pickup waiting for AAA roadside assistance and then when the 'jump' didn't work we had to hang around some more until the roadside service guy went back to the shop for a new battery. Robby, meanwhile, was having fun at baseball practice. He wasn't having fun when I gave him the bill for the new battery though.
So, I had zero buddy sex this week because, aside from Pony, there was no chance for me to have lunch at the bar with John Smith and, of course, Danny was at baseball practice with Robby. Those three boys are the full extent of my buddy sex possibilities: Pony, Danny, and the long shot, John Smith. It brought home to me how fragile my side sex situation actually is. I was feeling great about my extracurricular sex so far this semester but a week like this past week can easily occur again. It's not anyone's fault but if Pony, for example, caught a cold or stubbed his toe and was out of circulation for a while I'm screwed, and I don't mean 'screwed' in a good way. I haven't been aggressive at all in developing new side sex possibilities and that's on me. I'm simply not motivated to be especially alert to new possibilities. That was a younger guy's game I guess, although if an opportunity fell in my lap...
Anyway, there was another semi-unusual thing about this past week and it's that this has been a 'dry' one for Rob and I. Neither of us has had a single alcoholic beverage... not one! We've stayed in every night working on class assignments and then Rob's overtime report. We normally would have a couple of beers to get us through the drudgery of those activities except I refuse to pay the higher prices for booze in Taxachusetts and I haven't felt like driving to Salem, New Hampshire. Anyway, it's not like we're alcoholics. We've gone many weeks without drinking but it's just one more reason this week has been different... as well as boring.
And another thing, Danny still hasn't gotten the haircut I was supposed to give him two weeks ago. I've been looking forward to doing that because I miss barbering and, obviously, in the back of my mind I'm hoping we'll have a repeat performance of the afternoon he gave me my haircut. And cutting Sonny's and Pony's hair, although there were no clippers involved, sort of reminded me of how much I enjoy giving guy's haircuts.
So anyway, yeah, it's been an uneventful four days for me but then... today is Friday! See, always a silver lining for an optimist like myself. The silver lining for this boring week is that Fridays are 'off days' for Rob and me and obviously I'm upbeat about that! Upbeat about our three day weekend and all the possibilities inherent in every three day weekend.
We get to lie in bed Friday mornings knowing there isn't a fucking thing we have to do this morning. I'm lying here feeling good when Robby rolls over and grins at me. I go, "What are you grinning about, boyfriend?" He goes, "I'm grinning about how lucky I am I get to see your cute face every time I wake up. Hey, how do you manage to still look like a kid?" I mutter, "It's creams and lotions, Rob. Um, and shaving once in a while as well. By the way, when was the last time you shaved?" Obviously, I do not use creams and lotions... or anything else. It's another one of those fortuitous gene 'things'... my youthful looks I mean.
Robby shrugs, "Hmmm, yeah, when was the last time I shaved? Jeez, I don't know, why do you ask?" Reaching up to his face I rub my fingers across his chin, mumbling, "Because you're beginning to look like one of those jocks who think it's cool to be scruffy. I don't especially care for the scruffy jock 'look'." He does his big smile and goes, "I'll shave immediately then," and he gets up to do that. I go, "No! You don't need to do it right now! I didn't mean..." but he's already in the hall.
He yells over his shoulder, "It'll only take three minutes, babe." Damn, I outsmarted myself there because I actually wanted to feel his scraggly excuse for a beard while we made-out in bed this morning. Huh, I feel my face 'cause I can't remember the last time I shaved either. Was it Wednesday? If it was, I'm good. I shave twice a week although I don't have enough of a beard to grow that trendy three or four-day neatly-groomed beard that lots of guys are rocking nowadays. I don't especially care for that 'look' anyway. Yeah but, I'm almost as susceptible to peer pressure as the next guy so if I could grow that sucky-looking three-day beard I probably would. I do have a kinda cool, narrow mustache although I'm not really a mustache kind of guy. I felt like I was wearing a costume when I tried letting my mustache grow out. It wasn't me...
In three minutes or so Rob's back with a smooth face and reeking of aftershave lotion. He hops in bed grinning as he's getting under the covers and then sliding up on top of me, saying, "I brushed my teeth too." I'm like, "Did you put fresh deodorant on?" He asks, "Do I need to?" Grinning, I shake my head and his face drops down for a sweet kiss on my lips which leads to twenty-seven more. We make-out while rolling around on the mattress creating a total disaster in the covers. No talking, just some moans as an incomprehensibly large universe begins shrinking down to just Robby and me. Nothing else matters, only us.
We had sex last night which is lucky for me because there's lubricant left in my ass and this morning is one of those times, recently more common than not, that Rob isn't wasting time with fresh lube. Ya know, he's like 'we don't need no stinking extra lubricant'. Actually, we don't when we've had sex recently because Robby is considerate at pushing lots of lube on my ass. I suppose it's for his comfort as well, but mostly mine.
After a few minutes of roughish foreplay, almost wrestling actually, the head of Rob's engorged large-circumference penis is pressing against my asshole. I'm on my back being held in place by Rob's hands on my biceps pinning me to the mattress. My legs go up and then Rob uses his knees to spread them and I docilely admit defeat, my legs staying spread and bent at the knees.
Gasping from the exertion of our foreplay, Rob moves his hands to now put pressure on the inside of my legs as he's giving me a sexily aroused 'look'. We look into each others eyes, my cock so hard it's standing straight up as I lie here dominated and super ready to be fucked hard in this wide open position. I can't help letting a moan of arousal slip out as I'm staring up at Rob's face that's hovering over mine, his minty short gasps a fine spray of moisture on my face.
His cock is so hard he doesn't need a hand guiding it as it bumps lightly against my anus giving me shivers of anticipation. Robby looks very serious for a second, almost teasing me with the gentle bumps against my asshole before his hips exert a hard enough pressure to force the head of his boner forward spreading open my asshole and then with extra pressure the head spreads me open some more and then, "OOOOOH!" that big fat head pops inside me with my back arching off the mattress.
Rob exhales and closes his eyes and then moans, "Ummmm," and that moan becomes almost a whine by the end of it. He then grunts, "Umpth, oooh," and thrusts his hips this time which forces his fat boner another two inches up my ass and I clench my teeth and groan, and then another thrust of his hips and his fat boner is as deep inside me as it's going to get. Rob exhales noisily and roughly humps against my buttocks hard enough to lift my ass off the mattress. See, that's dominance right there! He doesn't see it as dominance but that just means he's blind to the obvious. I love it!
There's pain, sure, but I'm not concerned because I know it won't last long. We've been fucking regularly, so frequently my anus must have gotten stretched or toughened or something, or more likely I'm simply used to the initial pain. What might be excruciating to most guys is almost 'Ho huh' to me. Rob humps against my ass even harder this time and my hands grab hold of his hips, seemingly on their own.
Letting go of my legs, Rob's hands go to my shoulders as he lifts up a little, lifting my ass in the process, my spine curves, my legs dangling on either side of him and Omigod I feel deliciously dominated and submissive. It's a beautiful thing and especially now that the pain is relaxing to allow the pleasure group of nerve endings to begin taking over. Nice, and I sigh, "Ahhhh," and squirm under Robby. His hands go to my shoulders and he pushes them against the mattress and humps against my buttocks again, murmuring, "I gotcha now," and I murmur, "It feels good, Robby." He lets up on the pressure allowing my ass to drop down a little and my back to flatten on the mattress. In my mind it's like Robby proved to me he was in charge and now that I know he is, he eases up a little. Rob probably sees it entirely different thought, but I like my interpretation of his motives for doing what he does.
I can tell from Rob's expression and from hearing his quiet moans that his hard dick is providing him a ton of pleasure. One of the nearly perfect things in life is both of us experiencing ultimate sexual pleasure simultaneously. Well, it's not the 'ultimate' sexual pleasure yet but we're building towards it, and I mean climax obviously, but the buildup is almost as good.
Rob pulls it back and pushes his boner up my ass hard, from 'need' perhaps, but then he waits again giving my rectum time to adjust. He wasn't especially considerate with that fast entry but he's making up for it now. It's not long before almost all the pain inside me has subsided. He can start fucking whenever he wants but I don't tell him that because I like leaving everything up to him whenever possible.
Rob closes his eyes and gets even tighter against my ass, his crotch plastered against both my buttocks with his rock-hard fat boner totally up inside me. I squirm under him trying to get his boner to move against my prostate. My squirming gets Rob's eyes to open. He smiles down at me as he humps against my buttocks hard enough to raise my ass off the mattress again and he keeps it there for a few seconds. When I'm again lying docilely flat on the mattress, he quietly asks, "You okay to go, babe?" I nod and manage a little smile myself, murmuring, "Yep, Rob, I'm awesome, babe!" He grins because I called him 'babe', then he pulls his cock back until it's distending my anus before he shoves forcefully back up my ass. He shoves it in so hard my back arches again and I moan at the crescendo of pleasure coming off my prostate gland. That, plus all those fabulous sensitive nerve endings around my asshole, millions of them, are all happy ones now.
Two more deliberate pull-backs and hard thrusts and then with a tight grin on his face Rob begins a hard fast fuck. He knows I like it this way and I gotta believe he does too "SLAPSLAPSLAPSLAP" sounds erupt in the bedroom as my head moves side to side on the pillow with my brain absorbing reams of sexual pleasure. It's always indescribable, pretty much the same indescribable pleasure every time we do it, but nevertheless, it always feels fresh and 'new' somehow too. Amazing how that can be true, but it is!
This morning it's a little different in subtle ways like Rob's after-shave scent, and his minty mouthwash scent, and his personal scent all flooding my olfactory glands at the same time. The feel of his unique fat boner is always an eye-opener and the feel of his body and the knowledge that we're in love are familiar, but this morning Rob either on purpose or accidentally has been more dominant than usual, so that's slightly different. He's got me in this submissive position and... well, all those things combined make this a memorable experience that's different, a little different than last time we fucked. Whatever, it's nearly perfect every time we fuck; every time we make love. Making love is a wonderful euphemism for our sex. That's true, although not always an appropriate euphemism. For us, yeah, but not for two random people having random sex. They're not making love... they're fucking. My side sex isn't making love either, but Rob and me fucking... that's making love.
And then there's nature's genius of including the ultimate pleasure experience during sex... orgasmic climax. That genius invention has ensured the continuation of our species. Hell, it's worked to the tune of seven billion humans presently on earth plus, unfortunately, it's also worked for lots of less useful living things like mosquitoes and ants and mice. This sexual pleasure is also enjoyed by those of us who aren't necessarily into the continuation of our species. And I don't mean just us gay guys and girls either, but those who fuck heterosexually with protection against procreation... or heterosexuals who do anal sex. It is puzzling that nature evolved a super-pleasure center like our prostate gland making the rectum a pleasure zone too. Yeah, why'd she do that I wonder? Maybe just to be sure. Whatever, it was very considerate.
I'm not wondering about any of that now though... no, now I'm wondering how the hell is it possible to feel this amount of pleasure every time Rob fucks me? It's like a revelation every single time... like I said, it's the same but there's something new every time too! Um, not that something a little different is a problem. It's a miracle, is what it is. But, oh no, I can tell Rob's climax button just got punched. He's become frantic to climax and, oh boy, now his thrusting is even harder and faster with a desperate feel to it which is contagious and shortly I hear a whining sound of desperation leaving my throat. Omigod, my climax just lit up too and it's a race to orgasmic pleasure now.
The constant movement of Rob's fat hard boner in my stretched rectum touches everything it should and everything it touches vibrates with sexual pleasure. Rob's abandoned his hold on my shoulders a while ago and is now back keeping my legs spread with a hand on each of my knees as he trusts wildly. My arms, again seemingly on their own, reach up to hold onto the back of his neck now and then my fingers intertwine to pull Rob's head down for a wet and sloppy, teeth-scraping kiss as he makes a quiet whining noise himself and I'm guessing his building climax has reached the tipping point. I know from experience that the seconds before we blast out a fantastic climax there's such an intense 'knowing' between us it's almost a little scary. The unbelievable intensity is almost scary just before the incredible overload of sensations create CLIMAX! The otherworldly wonder of it is spectacular!
Our climaxes apparently were building at the same rate of speed with my arms going tightly around Rob's neck now pulling his head side by side with mine, his hands now on the mattress on either side of me and we can experience this 'miracle' almost as one. His hips are seemingly on autopilot, my eyes are closed in anticipation of something otherworldly and, oh man, I want this to happen like I've never wanted anything to happen before in my life...and then with a squeal and a full body spasm... BOOOOM!... we climax together. For me, it's fireworks and pinwheels and skyrockets all combined... Wheeeee!! Whoooooa!! The fourth of July, times a hundred...
Yeah, recently we've been climaxing at the same time! Our bodies mimic each other as both get very taut with every muscle clenching and there's this feeling of electricity zipping back and forth between us for a millisecond before our eruptions and then the previously mentioned startlingly bright lights seemingly burst in my head like the brightest most beautiful fireworks in the world and the steaming pleasure that increases to a ridiculous level for a split second before spreading out all around my cock and groin... the pleasure quickly spreading out all over me. It makes me shake and shudder during that incredible four or five or six seconds of intense pleasure, an intensity like nothing else can match. It's really startling, exciting... basically a surreal experience. You should try it!
The first burst of pleasure is too enormous to describe and then like I said, it spreads out incredibly fast even as a second blast of cum fires from my steel boner and that mostly finishes off my latest orgasm, my favorite orgasm of my life, but then I've had that same thought about every orgasm I've ever had. I'm aware of Rob's reaction a little bit before climax and so I know it's similar to what I'm experiencing but at climax for those five to eight seconds I only care about my orgasm. Then I'm again aware of Rob's after-climax reaction. My brain is barely able to handle the input overload of what I'm experiencing PLUS what my sex partner is experiencing during the exhilarating moments of blastoff.
Yep, it's four, five, and sometimes even seven or eight seconds of being in a height of sexual pleasure impossible to describe, me in my own perfect world but climaxes fade to comprehensible levels quickly. I think I felt his first steam of cum hit inside me this time maybe half a second before my climax took over my brain completely. Or perhaps I only imagined what it 'should' feel like. Whatever, my shoulders are still shuddering a few seconds after climax, mostly at the zipping after-effect sensations buzzing in my ass and around my groin. They're nice too and have me shivering deliciously for those couple of extra moments. Ahhh, fading reminders of the power of my latest climax compliments of my hot lover.
Robby's dealing with the after-effects of his climax bomb as he's pushing against my ass so hard now he's lifting my lower half up off the mattress again, my spine curving up before his body finally relaxes and with a long sigh we both sort of get limp. The sex build-up to climax goes on for indeterminate amounts of time but from climax to the after effects, it not long at all. Our memory of the intensity of it, however, makes us want to do it again.
Our bodies are still together, a little damp with perspiration, our hammering hearts slowing down plus there's always a lot of effort put into breathing deeply and... I feel wonderful. There's silence for half a minute and then I hear a chuckle from Rob before he says, "Holy shit, Dylan, I thought it'd be impossible to climax harder than I did the last time...but I did climax harder just now. Haha, I think pretty much that same thing every time we make love together." Jeez, that's a version of me thinking about my latest climax being my favorite of all time, the best one I've ever had.
Rob begins disengaging from my clutching arms as he leans up from my chest and then slowly slides off me pulling his sloppy penis out of my ass, 'Ahhhh." He lies over on his back next to me as I mutter, "Oh," as his wet dick drags across my leg and then I take another deep breath before, mumbling, "That was really good." Going up on my side I look down at Rob and say, "You're hot, you know that, Rob? You my man!" He grins nodding his head, muttering, "Yeah, I'm your man alright. What's for breakfast?" Ha, that sure as hell wasn't lover's sex we just had in, case ya didn't know. We made love doing recreational sex and now that it's over Rob wants to know what's for breakfast. Mumbling, "How romantic," I hop off the bed feeling really good, saying, "Hey, c'mon and help me clean your sperm off my freakin' ass."
He groans and rolls over to look at me as he mutters, "Absolutely, baby, whatever you say," and he leaps out of bed seemingly in one motion. With a smile, he gets right next to me, asking, "Isn't this the best, Dylan? Us living together and screwing whenever we want." I mumble, "Uh huh," and then in the bathroom, while taking I piss, I'm like, "Ya know, Robby, you always tell me the same thing after we have sex." He stands behind me as I'm peeing and puts his arms around me and then kisses the side of my neck, mumbling, "I say it because it's always true. This is the best situation imaginable!"
Letting go of me Rob stands next to me and starts pissing as I ask, "Have you given any more thought to us doing a little urine play? You could have taken this piss up my ass. There'd be nothing I could do about it." He mutters, "Hey, babe, don't be gross."
At the sink washing my hands, I'm like, "Why don't you fix breakfast for us this morning?" He goes, "Sure, if you want Froot Loops and coffee, no problem." I say, "Ya know what? I'm gonna take a shower," and I turn on the water, adding, "We're naked anyway, ya know?" Rob mumbles, "Good idea," and we both step over the edge of the tub as he asks, "Seriously, babe, I'm hungry. What's for breakfast?"
We don't have sex in the shower this time, and we don't have Froot Loops for breakfast either. I cook breakfast sausages, home fries, fried eggs over easy, and toast while Rob makes our coffees and then reads sports blogs on his cell phone, He reads out loud to me whatever he finds interesting. That's not my favorite thing... Rob reading parts of sports articles to me. I go, "Oh" or 'Huh" or "Jesus, really?" depending on what I think goes with what he's reading to me. It's not my favorite thing but I don't say anything about it because he likes to do it and I'm sure there are little things I do that aren't Robby's favorite things and he doesn't say anything about those either. Give and take, that's the way you do it!
Having Fridays free makes it my favorite of the three day weekends because it almost feels like we're getting away with something. After breakfast, we go to the bookstore for blue books. We had some left over from last year but we used them on pop quizzes. I know from past shopping experiences with Robby, blue books are not the only thing he'll buy because he, unlike myself, likes to shop. He likes to buy shit even when he doesn't need it.
We're in the bookstore for over an hour with Rob buying various clothing items with the Merrimack logo on it. He tells me, "Babe, we'll want to wear our Merrimack shit for years after graduating. Ya never lose your college connection. It's part of you forever." I mumble, "Uh huh," and he excitedly adds, "Oh, look here Dylan, this sweatshirt is so cool!" I glance over as Rob adds, "Okay, here's one my size. Let's look for another 'medium' for you." Rolling my eyes, I go, "Robby, I have a half dozen Merrimack sweatshirts." He goes, "They changed them a little this year," and I go, "Yeah, they change them a little every year so nuts like you will buy them even though you already have a closet full of them." He goes, "Omigod, look at that cool hat!" He has a dozen Merrimack baseball caps already.
My attention is diverted to this cute guy who looks older than a freshman but he looks lost, so he probably is a freshman. Hmmm, I walk over and ask, "Need some help?" Shaking his head, he mumbles, "Nope, I'm good." He must have just gotten a haircut and, Omigod, it looks sort of like mine. Wow! Nice light brown hair too. I say, "Just browsing, huh?" He looks up and without smiling, says, "Sort of, yeah, and I prefer doing it alone if you don't mind." Huh, it's good to know I've still got the old magic. Resisting the urge to immaturely say, 'Well, fuck you then' I settle for saying it in my head. Anyway, he has some acne scars that I didn't notice from a distance. Plus, bad teeth, so he isn't so cute after all.
Huh, ya know, that applies to a lot of things. I mean, from a distance a person might look cool or hot, or maybe not a person but an idea at first seems like a good one. The closer you get to the person or the idea though, the less appealing it becomes. Not always but sometimes, ya know? Oh fuck, that's gotta go in my book when I get around to writing it. Very deep psychological shit right there.
Rob's finally done 'shopping' and after putting $213.00 worth of stuff he doesn't need and might never wear on his credit card we leave the bookstore with Robby saying, "I know you've got to watch your spending and all that so I bought a couple of things for you. You know, for Christmas gifts." I smile, "Thanks, Robby. That's sweet." It is sweet, but dumb too. Harmless sweetness, I guess that's the best way to put it. I go, "Here, let me help carry that stuff."
We stop in at the Quad for a hot chocolate and right inside the door a guy grabs my arm, saying, "Hey, you're Dylan, right." He's an average size guy with a swarthy complexion and a very large nose. I nod and he points to my head, saying, "I wasn't sure... new haircut, huh?" Jesus, I think I know this guy but I'm not sure how I know him. I do what I always do and smile first, and then ask, "I'm sorry but, um, do I know you?" Rob gives a look at me and then at this guy, and says, "I'll get us a couple of hot chocolates, Dylan."
As I nod, acknowledging I heard Rob, big nose grabs the arm of a cute blond kid pulling him up next to us, and says, "I'm Mark! Mark Colvechio, remember? And this is Paul Mathews. We're Ponti's friends... you gave free haircuts to us last year," and he points to another guy, saying, "And him too, Ryan Flynn." Slowly nodding my head with a slight grin on my face, I go, "Oh yeah. I did your haircuts, um, twice I think." This guy, Mark, thinks he's conning some stooge, meaning me, as he says, "Yep, the best haircuts we ever had too! Um," and then he chuckles, adding, "As you can see we need haircuts in the worse way."
Oh yeah, I remember this wise-ass and especially that Ryan guy. He was the quiet one but in a surly sort of way. Paul, though, he's the one I remember the best and not just because he's a cute blond. No, I remember thinking, and I was sure about this, that he has a haircut fetish like mine. I recognized it as I was cutting his hair. It was the way he moved his hips under the cape. Ya know, like he was either shooting off or he felt like he was going to cum. Yeah, that kid is the only person I've ever run into who I think has a haircut fetish.
Glancing over at Robby who is just sitting down at a table with our hot chocolate drinks, I have an urge to accommodate these guys except I only like the one guy; the one with a haircut fetish kid. The other two are smart-ass, um, juniors. The three of them are a 'package' deal though, so I say, "Jeez, sorry but I'm not doing haircuts this year," and then I give them Danny's cell phone number... heh heh. Mark thanks me about as insincerely as it's possible to thank someone. The other two never say a word and actually had the common decency to act embarrassed at Mark's phony bullshit. Mark's so-called 'thank you' was more like dismissing me as useless after I'd given him the number of another 'free' campus barber. Asshole!
As I'm walking to Rob I recall that Pony didn't actually even know those guys. Or I should say, he wasn't 'friends' with them. Last year he had a class with large-nose, who overheard Pony and me talking about me doing his haircut or something. Anyway, I guess he has big balls in addition to a big nose because the next time he saw me he told me that 'friends with Pony' bullshit. When I sit down with Rob, of course, he asks, "Who the fuck are those guys?" I tell him and he laughs, saying, "Omigod, Danny's getting more guys wanting free haircuts than Golden ever got last year." I shrug, "Danny's giving better haircuts... that's why."
We sit in the Quad drinking two cups of hot chocolate each as we talk about this and that with me again enjoying listening to Robby's boyish-sounding voice. It's so smooth, his voice is, and very pleasant and easy to listen to. I do wonder though when Rob becomes some big-deal manager or vice president at Dickers & Son ten years from now or something will he be taken seriously because of his boyish voice. I mean taken as seriously as he would be if he had a macho gruff authoritative voice. Fuck it though, actions speak louder than words, right? He'll be fine, plus his father owns the fucking company, so...
Now he's telling me how much he likes mentoring Carl and how he also likes Carl as a person. That's not always the case though. A senior baseball player named, Bret Small, for example, is mentoring a freshman pitcher who is arrogantly obnoxious and no fun mentoring at all... and then, stopping his story abruptly, Rob looks worried, asking me, "What time is it, Dylan?" I look at my watch and say, "Quarter to three," and Rob gets up, saying, 'Shit! I was supposed to be at practice early today." I stand up too, mumbling, "You will be early. It'll take us five minutes to get there." Walking quickly out of the Quad, Rob's saying, "Yeah, but I wanted to be there much earlier than this."
Rob wants me to drive to the ballpark so he can jump out at the front entrance. And sure enough, at the ballpark he opens the door before I even come to a complete stop and hops out, saying, "Thanks, babe. I'll text you later." I go, "Sure," and he's off running and then hopping over the low brick wall and through the gate. Is it possible to be too conscientious?
Oh well, um, what do I feel like doing now? Backing up and turning the pickup around I see Danny slowly walking from dormitory row. I freeze to gawk at him. He's with two other guys, Danny's talking to one of them a mile a minute and then he reaches over and lifts up the front of the skinny kid's bangs for a second. The kid pushes Danny's hand away, but he's grinning and shaking his head saying something. Danny does an elaborate shrug and starts talking again. Jesus, he must be trying to convince that kid he needs a flattop, or some kind of a haircut. I can't imagine why Danny's so hopped-up about being a barber. It was like overnight that he became gung-ho about barbering. I'm not jealous about it or anything, just saying it's a little strange...
All three of those guys are baseball players I'm guessing since they're heading right for the ballpark entrance. Then Danny must have recognized the pickup out of the corner of his eye because he suddenly looks over. I'm just sitting here with the truck idling. I give him a little wave and he says something to his friends and jogs right over to the pickup. As usual, he's all smiles and, fuck, I've still got a serious 'thing' for him apparently as my dick feels sort of 'active' in my pants.
Rolling down the window, I yell, "Hey, stranger!" He comes right up to the window and says, "Dylan, don't you look especially," and he looks around quickly before adding, "Um, cute today. Did you just drop Rob off?" I go, "No, I've been sitting here all day hoping you'd walk by." He laughs harder than that comment warrants, and then says, "I had two classes this morning so it must have been a long wait for you."
Jesus, I hope he knows I was kidding. Ya never know with Danny, so I mutter, "No, you were right, I just dropped Rob off. Hey, get this, I directed three guys to you for haircuts. I gave them your cell phone number." He says, "Thanks, dude! That must be who called me just before I left the dorm. Hey, guess what... my roommate, you know, Specks. Well, he usually goes to Worchester on weekends but he's gonna stay here for your dinner party tomorrow night." I'm like, "Oh, yeah?" and he says, "Yeah, he'll go home early Sunday morning," and, with a bright expression, he adds, "Hey, I've missed you, baby," and I mutter, "Don't call me that, okay?"
Someone calls over, "You're gonna be late again, Monday!" and we both look over at a big goofy-looking guy who's going into the building. Danny mumbles, "That was Salvouchie, Bill Salvouchie. What a loser he is!" I shrug and Danny goes, "Hey, Dylan, when the fuck are we gonna, um, you know, get together?" I shrug, "That's mostly up to you, big guy. Hey, you still haven't gotten a haircut, so how about this Sunday? Ya know, I'll tell Rob I'm giving you a haircut and then I'll cruise on over." He makes a 'face' mumbling, "Oh man, Sunday, huh?" I go, "Yeah, it's perfect! The haircut is a perfect reason for me to spend some time in your room." Taking a big inhale, he goes, "Yeah, but ya see, I've got this touch football game Sunday with the guys. Jeez though, Specks will be heading home Sunday morning, and so my dorm would be available, yeah... hmmm? Jeez, I don't know though, there's the football game, ya know?"
Well, fuck, he's the one who asked when we could get together. I didn't bring it up! I'm pissed, saying, "Well, for chrissakes, don't fucking ask me when we're gonna get together and then when I suggest a perfect opportunity, like Sunday, you tell me you've got a touch football game. Christ, a touch football game, seriously?" Yeah, I guess I'm irritated he'd rather play touch football then... oh, the hell with it.
Danny pats my arm through the pickup window, looking serious now, saying, "Yeah, that was stupid of me, baby. Don't be mad though. Sure, I'd much rather be with you. So, yep, Sunday it is then! I'll text you. Well, hell, I'll see you tomorrow night, won't I?" I can't help but break out with a big smile, mumbling, "Yeah, I guess you will see me tomorrow night." He goes, "Fuck, Dylan, now I'm excited!" He backs away, saying, "I gotta go, but Sunday it is!" Nodding my head, I'm smiling, saying, "Yeah, okay then... Sunday." I watch him smoothly run into the building, without jumping over the brick wall.
Pushing at my dick, adjusting it in my pants, I'm thinking, 'Fuck, I still got it bad for Danny and that's actually a very mysterious thing too... my never-ending crush on him.' Driving away, I rub my face realizing how wicked disappointed I was for a second there when he turned down my suggestion... 'cause he'd rather play in some pick-up, ad hoc touch football game, Jesus! He actually for a second was thinking he'd rather do that than have some buddy sex with me? Jesus, what an ego crusher! Oh man though, I can't get that Sunday afternoon we spent together off my mind. Omigod, it was magical buddy sex all afternoon, that's what that was. I mean in the annals of buddy sex it doesn't get any better than Danny's performance that Sunday. And he was hung-over too! Jeezuss!
Oh fuck, he'll probably be hung-over again this Sunday too. I mean after Saturday night. Well, maybe he's at his best when he's hung-over. Okay, heh heh, yeah, I'm wicked stoked about this! Okay, that's uber good for sure, but what am I gonna do now? I start driving to the apartment but before I even get off campus my cell phone rings. I pull over to the side of the road and get my phone out of my pocket and see Chubby's caller ID. Oh good!
I go, "Hi Chubby!" and he says, "How ya doing, bro?" and I'm like, "I'm good. Whassup?" He asks, "Do you know anything about the Savonarola and Italian Renaissance or the errors of Malthusian economics?" Huh? I mutter, "Um, not a lot, no." He says, "Fuck! I should probably think about skipping this next class then." I mumble, "Oh, that's too bad." Chub goes, "Hmmm, if only I had a compelling reason to skip it... um, skip it again I mean." I go, "Well, we could go food shopping and then make the meatballs for tomorrow night's dinner." He says, "Jesus, yeah! That qualifies as compelling, right? I'll pick you up in ten minutes."
After telling Chubby I'm already on campus, he says, as if it's an obvious solution, "Oh, well then, drive to your apartment. We'll take our car and you can drive." I go, "Oh, okay. Um, I forget... does our car have an automatic transmission? I'm rusty at driving a stick shift." He laughs, and then says, "Haha... good one, brother! I'll meet you at your place." Chub knows when I'm joking. The honest to God truth is I don't really care that I hardly ever drive our car. I've got Robby's truck at my disposal whenever I need it... and Chubby needs a car. He paid for two-thirds of it anyway, and I know I could use it any time I want. That's a perfect arrangement!
As I'm parking the pickup at the apartment the thought occurs to me that Chubby might not remember how to get here. He's been here twice but this year our apartment building is kinda tricky to find. While thinking that thought I hear a horn toot and there's Chubby in our green Kia Soul grinning and waving at me. I get out and lock the pickup while Chub gets out and we hug. He kisses me and says, "Oh man, I did not want to go to that class this afternoon! I just knew if I called my brother he'd have the absolutely perfect reason for me to blow it off. You never let me down, Dylan," and he kisses me again.
I'm like, "It's cool you called me, Chub. We don't see enough of each other." He nods, "That's an understatement big brother but, oh man, thanks for coming up with an authentic reason why I couldn't go to that dumb-ass class." I'm like, "Yeah? Um, maybe I should write an excuse note for you to give to the professor. You know, explaining the situation?" Chubby chuckles and mumbles, "I don't think she takes attendance. I'm not really sure though 'cause I've only made one of Professor Turkle's classes so far this semester. It was the very first class and I guess I wasn't paying attention all that closely."
I'm like, "Oh, you had other compelling reasons to skip it, huh?" He chuckles and mutters, "Yeah, I thought I felt a toothache coming on and then another time there were unforeseen circumstances and... oh, hell, forget all that, bro. C'mon, you drive our new car." Nodding, I get in the driver seat of the Kia, adding, "Oh boy, this is nice!" Chub's busy pushing fast food wrappers off the passenger seat and then gets in saying enthusiastically, "You'll love it, bro. She rides great!" There's something under my foot and it turns out to be a plastic cup. Picking it up I smell beer. Chub grabs it and tosses it out the window, mumbling, "I told that bitch not to throw her cup in the car."
Chub left the car running so I merely put it in 'drive' and away we go with me exclaiming, "Sweet!" Grinning at me he nods his head and asks, "Do you have a list of what we need to get at Stop & Shop?" I go, "Oh, um, no, but I didn't expect to be food shopping." Chub says, "Well, we never had a shopping list for the thousand Sunday brunches we made for the moms. No problem! Um, it's gonna be an Italian dinner, right?" I nod, "Uh huh," and Chub goes, "I love me some Italian dinner!"
Chub's got a lot of positive energy. As I brake at the light on Route 114, I ask, "Gee, Chub, any special reason you've only been to that Friday afternoon class once?" He goes, "Yes, there is. I don't like it." I'm like, "Uh huh," and he adds, "Anyway, there's this girl, Sandra, who takes notes for me. I've got a deal with her that...." I interrupt, asking, "You're dating her, huh?" He goes, "Fuck no! She's like ten feet tall. I've got a deal with her though. I sweet-talked her a little bit and she's taking notes for me until midterms and then I'll take notes for her after that. That's fair, right?" Shrugging, I go, "Well, yeah, um, if you actually intend doing that. I mean, after the midterm exam." He goes, "Jesus, bro, I haven't totally thought it through all the way... not that far yet anyway. Hey, I've been wondering about this... are we generation 'Y' or are we Millennials?" I'm like, "What? Oh, wait... I know what you mean. I think anyone born after 1980 and all through the 90's is generation "Y' and before that, they're generation 'X'. You know, our parents I guess. Or is it our grandparents who are called baby boomers? He goes, "I don't fucking know... and who came up with these, um, titles? And what are the babies born in this century called?" I go, "Yeah, I don't know that either. It's all fucked anyway." Chub goes, "Oh man, I'll need to look that up as an awesome factoid. Great conversation starter for picking up babes, ya know?" I nod, "Yeah, I suppose..."
We park at Stop and Shop and Chub goes, "Oh boy, this brings back memories, huh Dylan? You and me shopping at Framingham's Stop & Shop for brunch all those years." I nod, "Yeah, it brings a tear to my eyes thinking about all those wonderful times we had together." Actually, it almost does cause a tear as I look at my brother with a million loving memories flooding past my brain. When the world was young, ya know...
On impulse, I give Chubby a big hug right outside the front door of Stop & Shop and he says, "Ya know, Dylan, I'm pretty sure I've told you this before but nothing could be truer, so it's worth repeating. I meet a lot of guys and girls and hang out with them but I've never met anyone I like as much as I like you, and forget about me ever finding anyone I could love one-tenth the way I love you." He said that so matter of fact I'm like, "I, um, oh Chub! Ah, um, no one could say anything that means as much to me as you saying that. Thank you and you know I have such a special love for you, it's impossible for me to even descr..." and someone says, "Excuse us! I hate to break up your reunion, but I'm trying to get into the store... " Damn, I've been blocking doorways all day!
Chubby and I both turn and see a woman with a dog, a bull terrier on a leash. She's a big woman, probably in her fifties. Wow, a large head on her too and with huge hair... a pumpkin head with a too-big wig on it. The woman has a silly-looking plaid doggy sweater on the pooch and the dog is straining on the leash trying hard not to go into the store. The dog's little piggy eyes look embarrassed about his outfit, but that's probably anthropomorphism on my part. Chubby goes, "Your dog doesn't appear to be pleased with its sweater and I don't believe dogs are allowed in the store anyway, so..." The woman huffs at us, yanks on the dog's leash and stomps past us brushing both of our shoulders in the process. Chub goes, "Have a nice day..."
Jeez, that was awkward. I mean, that woman hearing our sentiments and all that. I know Chubby's not embarrassed though. We follow the big woman and her dog into the grocery store with Chubby saying, "I didn't mean to get all maudlin on you a minute ago, brother, but I meant every word I said. I'm probably never going to fall in love because I'll be comparing my feelings to our brotherly love, which probably can't be matched... not in my mind." I go, "Chub you make me feel so good, but you'll fall in love with some girl someday. I know you will." He shrugs, "I don't think so but I'm not worried about it, Dylan. Um, shall we start at the meat counter?"
Wow, I still feel a little discombobulated after that wonderful sentiment from Chubby. He's right too... I mean about him telling me before how he feels about me, how he loves me but it always catches me off guard and then I feel totally inadequate responding to his loving sentiments. Jesus, from the time Chubby learned to talk, and that was at a very early age, he's always come right out and said whatever the fuck he's thinking, and no matter how startling it might have been, he moves on like its no big deal.
Chubby grabs a shopping cart, one of the smaller ones and as he pushes it down the aisle, he says, "Oh, by the way, I'm paying for everything today Dylan, so please don't give me any shit about that. I need to pay for this and do a lot more this year because I feel guilty that you hardly ever get to drive our car." I go, "Huh, what..." and he says, "Hmmm, we'll need different kinds of meat. Yeah, pork ribs, Italian sausages, breakfast sausages, hamburger, ground veal, and ground pork. Right?" I say, "Oh, you mean for the meatballs? Yes, that's right... breakfast sausages go in with the hamburger, ground pork, and veal along with many other things for your famous meatballs." He nods and adds, "And then pork ribs will add awesome flavor to our spaghetti sauce or as the Italian's call it... gravy."
Yeah, I knew that. It's funny how I've known Chubby every second he's been alive and yet he can still overwhelm me sometimes. I mean, I'm still thinking about him expressing his brotherly love like that. It came out of the blue and now him insisting he's paying for my dinner party and he'll probably cook most of it too. It's like he goes too fast sometimes, and with a confidence in everything he says or does too! He has the confidence I'm always musing that I like to see in my sex partners. Huh, I wonder if subconsciously I've been looking all my life for a life partner who's exactly like my brother? Could that be?
And then I wonder about Chub's female conquests; the girls he has sex with. Are they attracted to Chubby's charismatic confidence and glibness? Do they beg him... 'Fuck me, Jeffrey.' I wouldn't be surprised if they did!
Chubby goes, "You okay, bro, or are you just thinking about stuff?" He knows I space out once in a while. I'm like, "I'm fine, Chub, but you don't need to pay. Please don't! This is my dinner party. Rob didn't even know I invited everyone until afterward." Chub's examining vacuum sealed packages of baby back ribs, asking, "How many of these do you think we should get, bro?" We buy a lot of everything and he pays... $159.48 for everything which is a lot for an Italian dinner but not bad when you consider its dinner for twelve. I should know better than expect Chubby to acknowledge my plea about him not paying for the dinner. He always does what he says he will when it involves me. Everyone else is on their own.
After we load the bags of groceries in the backseat, Chubby gets me to stop at McLoons package store, saying, "I'll only be a second, Dylan." It's more than 'a second', as in ten minutes, and then he comes out with a case of Rolling Rock cans on his shoulder and a bottle of Wild Turkey in his hand. The booze goes in the backseat with the bags of groceries and as Chub sits down in the passenger seat, I start to object but he puts his fingers on my lips, saying, "No! Don't say a word, brother. You know I'd be bringing booze to the party whether it's BYOB or not, and this particular booze is for us as we make killer meatballs and spaghetti sauce." I go, "Chubby!" but I know he's gonna do what he wants... and the really good part of this is that there's no John Beverly today. I can't help but notice that.
I also can't help grinning at Chubby, mumbling, "Thanks, Chubby," and as I drive up away from the package store, he pats my shoulder exclaiming, "This is so much fun, Dylan. I can hardly wait to make some spaghetti sauce from scratch and then some of my special meatballs! Hey, we forgot hot cherry peppers..." No, we didn't.
At the apartment I act as the sous chef for Chubby and laugh my ass off at his funny ways and funny way of saying stuff. We also drink shots of Old Grandad, chasing them down with gulps of Rolling Rock beer. It takes a couple of hours to finish everything and then we're on the balcony smoking when Robby finally texts me that he's sorry practice ran late again but he's ready to go now. The apartment smells awesome from sautéing the meatballs and now the simmering spaghetti sauce. It's been an absolutely awesome afternoon.
Chub has a date tonight so we leave together; him in the Kia and me in the pickup. On my way to pick up Robby, I'm thinking about Chub and me laughing so hard I had tears running down my face. Chub's observations about everything, Omigod, too funny! The outrageous things he says with a straight face and with his comedic timing... or whatever it is, it all makes him so fucking funny and fun. Oh man, my brother Chubby!
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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