Dylans Senior Year at College

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter 32

by. Donny Mumford

After Carl's lesson on sexy kissing, which resulted in him shooting quite a bit of spunk on my leg, we clean up and go out on the balcony so I can have a smoke. Even a nonsmoker might need a cigarette after that. Most nonsmokers I mean, not this one of course; not Carl. I've got a can of beer with me and Carl has a can of Coke. As I'm lighting my cigarette I see Robby coming in the front door. He waves and then join us, grinning and saying, "Hey, guys! Omigod, this is a classic. Sparky was uber embarrassed when I got there but he tried putting on an act like he was all pissed off... mostly trying to save face, ya know?" I don't know this guy Sparky, nevertheless, I mutter, "What a dipshit." Carl's wiping his mouth as though Robby could somehow tell we've been kissing.

Robby goes, "Nah, he's not a dipshit, Dylan, he's, um..." Taking a swallow from the can of beer, I'm like, "So, What'd this dufus, Sparky, say?" Robby asks me, "Um, can I bum a smoke off you, babe?" I give him one and Rob lights it and takes a drag. Exhaling smoke, Rob's chuckling as Carl waves his hand at the smoke drifting his way so I'm like, "Carl, for Christ's sake, move upwind, dude!"

He moves to the other side of Rob and me as Rob's saying, "Okay, so I drive to Maggie's Ice Cream Shop to give Sparky Jones a ride back to his dorm and when I get there, as I said, he's acting all bad-ass and really pissed at the guys for leaving without him. He's yelling...'That moron, Lofton, is dumber than dog shit!'... " Robby goes, "Just so you guys know, the 'moron' he's talking about, Chuck Lofton, is on a full-boat 'academic' scholarship... that's how dumb he is. Meanwhile, Sparky barely can keep his GPA high enough to stay on the team... hahaha." I chuckle at Rob's mirth although I don't know this Chuck person either. Carl laughs whenever Rob laughs, covering his mouth, apparently still thinking Rob can tell we had a kissing lesson.

Rob takes another drag off his cigarette and then tells us that all the guys, including Sparky, were fairly shit-faced when they got to Maggie's. Looking at me, Robby provides more background, "This guy, Sparky, is on the baseball team as a utility bench player, babe. He's mostly known as kind of a goofy stooge who's always screwing something up, but he's an okay guy and good for some yucks, ya know?" No, I don't know, but I nod my head and Rob says, "Anyway, they all buy their ice cream treats and then Sparky tries to show-off by putting the 'make' up a couple of girls sitting at a table in the corner. Some time goes by, they eat the ice cream, there's some messing around by the other three inebriated guys and somehow communications get fucked-up and three guys driving away without Sparky. Maybe they thought he was scoring with the girls."

I'm picturing the scene, not an unfamiliar one when booze has been over-indulged. Meanwhile, Rob's reciting some of the pick-up lines Sparky was using on the girls. They're so bad Rob chokes as he's exhaling cigarette smoke and snorting out a laugh. He says, "Not only that, but it turns out the girls are only fifteen years old. Sparky claims that the girls had tits out to here, so how was he to know they were only fifteen. You know, as if fifteen-year-old girls aren't supposed to have tits yet!"

Uh huh, I guess you had to be there and know how dumb Sparky is to fully appreciate the humor. I snicker but only because Rob's laughing so hard he's got tears on his face. He tells us that the girls, both high school freshmen, were mocking Sparky's bumbling attempts at coming on to them and then laughing even harder when Sparky realized he'd been left behind. To make matters worse, before I got there one of the girls' father drove up to take the girls home. The father hears what was going on from his daughter and started screaming at and lecturing Sparky that he should be ashamed of himself and he, the father, would be reporting Sparky to the college.

Anyway, that's Rob's fun for the night. I'm figuring I should reassure Carl that he didn't do anything wrong and that Rob isn't going to know about it in any case. Of course, I'm going to tell Rob about it because he should know, but make him promise not to say anything to Carl. Finished our smokes we go inside as I'm giving Carl a reassuring grin while offering to drive him back to his dorm. Rob's only too happy to pass me the key-device. I expected he would be since he'd just popped the tab on a can of beer. I'm like, "Don't go anywhere, Robert, I'll be right back." He's still snickering about this guy Sparky as he nods his head mumbling, "Yeah, drive carefully, babe."

Carl's quiet as I drive the short distance from our apartment to dormitory row. There's no reason for him to be feeling or looking guilty, obviously, so I say, "I've gotta say, Carl, you're making this too big a deal, buddy. You haven't done anything wrong! So, Jesus, stop looking as though you've murdered someone." He goes, "I know, but Rob's such a good guy I feel like I did do something behind his back."

We're on the campus near dormitory row as I mutter, "Well, I'm telling you that you didn't... so stop thinking you did!" He nods his head, still looking glum. What's that old phrase that describes Carl... 'goody-two-shoes', is that it? I think I know what that means, but I don't know why. Whatever, I'm thinking Carl might qualify for the title, 'The goody-two-shoes of Merrimack College'.

Anyway, in that regard, I've been curious about something so I take this opportunity to ask, "Um, what do your parents do for work, Carl?" He shrugs, "Oh, um, Dad sell insurance for State Farm and mom works part-time at a flower shop. Why do you wanna know?" I mutter, "Just something to say that will get you thinking about something else." He goes, "I'm alright now, Dylan."

Ten seconds later, I go, "So, your parents aren't like ministers or anything like that... on Sundays, maybe?" Looking at me, he asks, "Why would you ask me that?" I mutter, "Just curious because you don't smoke, drink, or curse so..." He says, "And I don't go to church either. Well, we're Catholics so we do go to Mass on Christmas and Easter, like that..." Huh, I was sure his parents must be some version of 'goody-two-shoes' too.

Pulling up the closest I can legally get to the dormitories, I say, "I was just making conversation with that stuff, Carl. Um, now it's up to you to think about when, and if, you'd like me to help you further with your, um, 'cherry' problem... okay?" He goes, "Yes, but I haven't thanked you enough for being so good about this, Dylan. You've been great, um, about this entire embarrassing situation I've put both of us in. I'm really glad you're the one I asked though. Thank you," and he starts to lean over, I guess to kiss me, but he forgot his seat belt is still attached and it stops him.

He goes, "Darn it! I was going to kiss you to see if I remember what you taught me." He unhooks his seat belt as I'm telling him, "Hey, wait a second! You need to understand that most of what we were doing earlier was foreplay kissing. Just so you know, um, there's a much more regular way of kissing for a 'goodbye' or 'thank you' kiss." He goes, "Jeez, I'm glad you told me that! I was gonna... well, never mind," and he leans over and kisses my cheek quickly. I say, "Thank you for the kiss." He grins and licks his lips as I mumble, "Goodnight, Carl," just in case he was thinking about continuing with this in the truck.

He mutters, "Oh! Goodnight, Dylan," and as he's getting out, he says, "It's been quite a night. Thanks again for the kissing lesson and for agreeing to help with my, um, virgin thingie, and thanks for the ride too." I nod my head, smile at him, and then give a little wave. He jogs down dormitory row as I back up and drive back the way I came. Wow, that was, um, something different alright. Surprisingly, and it does surprise me to discover I'd rather not be involved in this. Seriously, I'd rather not although I'll stick with it for Carl's sake. Christ though, if I were a year or two younger I'd be jumping at this opportunity. Now it just seems too, I don't know... too complicated and awkward.

Inside the apartment I see Robby reading a magazine that he puts down when I come in. He stands, still drinking from his can of beer, and says, "Thanks for doing that, Dylan. Ya wanna get to bed now?" I nod, "Yeah, I'm tired." He puts the empty beer can in the recycle bin and grins at me as he pats my shoulder. He looks, um, hot! I bump against his side as we walk down the hall to the bathroom. and he puts his arm around my waist and gives me a squeeze.

I finish what I need to do in the bathroom with Robby's still brushing his teeth. In the bedroom, I strip off my clothes and toss them in the hamper, then get in bed wearing only jockey shorts as I have one of my crazy thoughts and it's: why the hell am I'm always wearing jockey shorts instead of the boxer briefs I wore for years? Hmmm... Oh, I know why! Yeah, I've been on a jockey shorts kick since skinny jeans became popular. Yeah, skinny jeans are so tight they bunch up boxers while I'm pulling on the jeans or khakis. Oh man, it's a relief getting that straightened out in my mind. Wait a second though... didn't I read somewhere that wearing jockey shorts all the time reduce a guy's sperm count? Yeah, I did, but why would I give a shit about that? I'm not trying to procreate...

I'm in bed trying to stop thinking about crazy shit when Rob comes in the bedroom. He turns off the lights and gets in bed, saying, "That was a great dinner tonight, baby," and he rolls up on his side to rub my shoulder. I mumble, "Your Manhattans were the star of the evening, baby." He chuckles and jokingly says, "That's my exclusive term of endearment for you! I've told you before you aren't allowed to use it." I go, "How about, um, can I use it with other guys?" He chuckles again, saying, "Absolutely not!" and then he partially lays against me, murmuring, "I have the strongest urge to fuck your brains out tonight." I'm like, "Well, I'm sorry but I have a headache," and he goes, "No problem, I'm not thinking about fucking your head," and I lift my arm to pull on his shoulder making him fall half on top of me. He goes, "Oops," and we kiss, both of us with minty fresh breath.

The kiss is followed by another and then another before Robby murmurs, "I'll be right back," and he slides down under the covers and pulls my jockey shorts down below my nuts. Oh boy! Completely under the covers, Rob picks up my dick and puts the head in his mouth and... oh wow, this isn't Pony doing his bizarro oral sex. Nope, this is a guy who knows what to do with a cock in his mouth. That's partly because he knows what feels best when his own cock is in someone's mouth. It's more than just that though. I'm thinking Rob must have given a lot of blow jobs in his younger days because practice makes perfect and Rob's as good as it gets at sucking cock! The fact that he's been doing it for me more regularly lately is a fantastic development, to say the least. Ya know, gay guys give the best blows jobs on the planet, and I'd have to believe Rob is right up there with the best of the best.

Ideally, I prefer it when I can look into his eyes as he looks up at me while sucking and licking my cock into a super hard boner. Being under the covers like he is, that's not the case tonight. Nevertheless, everything else is as it should be and it's really something special too! I like sucking dick and I do my very best at it, but I can't do it as well as Robby who is a freakin' artist at it. Obviously, he moves my cock around only in the warm, soft, wet places of his mouth, meaning his tongue, lips, and the inside of his cheeks plus the back of his mouth and in his throat, and sometimes over the ridges at the top of his awesome mouth. They're all excellent spots for him to be moving the head of my precious cock head while at the same time he's stroking the shaft and licking it with his tongue while sucking on it with his full lips and, um, that combination of activities can almost drive a person to distraction.

It all creates spectacular and luscious sensation coming off my very sensitive penis with its rich concentration of sensory nerve endings. In less than a minute, I'm arching my back off the bed, my legs out stiff as I moan, "Ahhhhh, oooh... fucccck." His tongue is always moving and the sucking of his lips gets me rubbing my fingers through his hair and then pulling it. Sensations reach intense levels until they're almost too extreme as he squeezes my balls just the right amount getting me squirming on the bed and yanking at his hair now. But the best part is when his sucking lips creates like a vacuum just before orgasm and I get this helpless, vulnerable and euphoric feeling and then the climax is as good as any I've had getting fucked.

Yes, it's insanely awesome, but tonight he stops just before that blast-off moment, leaving me groaning and reaching for my boner. He pushes my hand away, takes my cock out of his mouth and strokes it for me, but only a couple of times with me biting my bottom lip, grunting, "Mmmm, ahh!" Rob pulls up my boxers, the waistband snapping against my belly just missing the head of my boner that's snugly and wetly up against my belly now. As I groan, "Mmmm," here comes Robby out from under the covers, his lips shiny with spit and some pre-cum. Pre-cum I didn't even realize slipped out of my hard pecker.

Smiling, he goes, "So, how was that, Dylan?" I go, "Holy shit, I can't catch my breath. It's was marvelous, Robby!" He snuggles in next to me as he's pulling up the covers, muttering, "Marvelous? I don't believe that word has ever left your mouth before." I go, "You might be right about that but it was still a marvelous experience for me and for little Dylan too... and we both thank you." Robby's rubbing his lips with a tissue, mumbling, "Is this cum I'm wiping off my lips?" I go, "No, I believe it's what comes before cum," and he chuckles.

I say, "Guess what?" He looks at me, asking, 'What?" and I go, "Your mentee doesn't want to be a virgin anymore." Rob's eyes open wide as he mutters, "He told you that?" I smirk and nod my head, "Uh huh," and he's like, "What'd you say?" I go, "Well, what the fuck do you think I said? I told him to talk to you about it. You're his mentor but he was aghast at the very idea. He said he couldn't do that because it'd be incomprehensibly awkward." Rob says, "He's right about that! Whaddaya gonna do?" I go, "He asked me to help him and he used that magic word... 'please'. So, ya know, what could I do? I told him I'd try but while I was giving him a kissing-technique lesson as part of foreplay he shot some youthful spunk on my leg." Robby laughs out loud and then says, "You're shitting me!" Shaking my head, "I go, "Nope! And get this: before I started to show him how a sexy kiss is done, I asked him... you know how to kiss, right Carl?... and he tells me, 'well, yeah, I kiss my mom', so he had that going for him." Robby goes, "Get the fuck outta here with that B.S.!" I'm like, "Swear to God, that's what he said."

After filling Rob in on Carl's and my rather short experience, he goes, "Well, he doesn't know you're telling me about this, right?" I make a 'face', muttering, "Duh! Of course not. I just wanted you to know what's going on. Don't you say a word to Carl though! The poor kid." Rob's like, "Omigod, he's so innocent. How do you suppose he got like that?" I shrug and Robby goes up on an elbow and rubs my chest and plays with my nip-ring as he's saying, "None better than you to be his first." I go, "Lucky me, huh? I'd rather not, but if I said 'no' he might ask Danny," and we both laugh and then Rob goes, "God help him." I say, "No, Danny would be gentle." Rob mutters, "Not likely."

Ah ha! Somehow Robby magically just made the Astroglide appear in his hand. How'd he do that? He spreads it on his cock, mumbling, with a grin, "I'm doing this just to be prepared in case I should need a slippery penis for some reason." I go, "And to think you were never even been a Boy Scout. Your preparedness is impressive." Wiping remnants of Astroglide off his fingers on tissues, he says, "Maybe it was that boner of yours that made me think of lubricating my dick. Crazy, huh?" I go, "Uh huh," and he leans over to drags his lips across mine, murmuring, "You're so irresistible, baby, even shy Carl can't resist you," and then a soft lover's kiss follows.

We're both soon involved in a juicy make out, our bodies squirming against one another. It's pretty sensuous and goes on for a while but Robby eventually pulls my jockey shorts down below my nuts for the second time in the last fifteen minutes and this time it frees my boner from the confines of said jockey shorts. Oh man, my hard cock sticks straight up as our hands rub enticingly over each other's almost naked bodies. Rob's avoiding my six-inch steel cock by holding his crotch slightly away although his efforts to keep from bumping my boner fails as we continue making out, almost wrestling as my pre-cum smears on his belly and his own hard cock now joins the fun.

Rob's experienced fondling of my body with the occasional unexpected just-right squeezing of my balls have me shuddering with shivers that skim lightly all over me like feathers. Holy shit, he's doing everything about as good as it's possible to do it and then it gets even better when he wraps his fist around my boner and slowly strokes it while continuing to do everything else at the same time! I don't know how the hell I'm managing not to climax. I'm right on the verge, right at the tipping point and it's kinda frustrating, but fantastic too.

The sexual heat rises to ridiculous levels along with our moans of arousal until I'm very anxious to feel his hard cock up my ass, his fat hard boner that's stiffly sticking out through the fly of his blue boxer shorts. To facilitate that I go up on my side facing away from Robby who recognizes an opportunity when he sees one and he expertly moves in on it. Yeah, he knows what to do... my jockey shorts come down in back now too and the slippery head of his fat hard cock begins spreading my asshole significantly. It always seems to me, contrary to my extensive experience, that this can't possibly work, but then, "Ahhhh," that fat slippery head is inside my ass and the shooting pain confirms that it's worked again!

Robby, up on his side behind me tightly, gasps as he cups my jaw pulling my head to the side so he can lean over my shoulder and suck on my lips as his hips do a light hump pushing his boner up my ass another inch or so. I go, "Oooh," which blows a spray of saliva into Robby's mouth and makes his tongue slide over mine more easily.

He does the best kiss he can manage in this position and then murmurs, "I love you, Dylan," before adjusting himself behind me again and putting his arm over my side holding us together and then he slowly forces his boner the rest of the way up my ass. There's the expected eruptions of pain, flashes of stabbing pain that I'm quite familiar with so I hold my breath for about thirty seconds while Robby's saying cooing words of affection, the hand over my side titillating my nipple with the ring through it. By the time my nipple is as hard as my dick, the pain in my ass is in quick retreat and the pleasure wagon is moving in to take its place.

The pleasure comes in little streaks, my prostate always quite content having a fat hard cock moving over it, and then the constant pressure against it keeps the pleasure surges moving. It's my always troublesome anus that was doing most of the complaining although there doesn't seem to be anything to be done about that except wait a bit until it comes to its senses, which it does much quicker now than it did even a year ago. Ya couldn't say my anus is a quick learner, but it's getting there and now it's entering that indescribable itchy phase being stretched beyond reason but accepting its fate because what other choice does it have? Incongruously, considering my asshole is stretched to an unreasonable degree I still can't help but tighten my buttocks' muscles trying to squeeze that big cock to further increase the sensations. Robby starts moving his swollen sex organ backward and there's no need for me to do anything now because, Omigod, the screeching pleasure from my prostate makes me once again think I'm going to cum, but again I don't. Instead, my shoulders shudder and I moan, "Oooooh, ummmm."

Rob's log of a boner feels a lot longer than four-plus inches as he's pulling it back and I have the same thought when he's pushing it in slowly back up my ass with the fat head spreading open my rectum again. This is when I wish it was twice as long... no bigger around though and thank you very much! After a few rather slow withdrawals and thrusts Rob begins moving that fat boner steadily and the lack of length becomes less and less of an issue until it doesn't matter at all. That's doubly true when he begins thrusting faster and then faster still until the, "Slap slap slap slap," sounds fill our ears and we're off to the races with neither of us even trying to contain our moans and groans at the soaring pleasure associated with anal fucking.

The bed is rocking back and forth from the force of Rob's body slamming against mine. His fat boner is being thrust up my ass in the most perfect way imaginable. My eyes lightly close as Rob's familiar sexy scent fills my head and the familiar feel of his body confirms in my heart and soul I'm with the one person out of seven billion on earth I need and want to be with. Well, yeah, I'm into a soaring sexual pleasure ride that nothing else in my world can equal and it's going on for a luscious long time too. "Slapslapslap," and this indescribably delicious sexual pleasure that gets me thinking maybe this will go on forever. As with anything, however, perfection doesn't last nearly as long as I wish it would and now there are storm clouds forming as the sea gets rough in the form of an irresistible force that seemingly out of nowhere burst onto the scene and my eyes open with a new anticipation of a higher power that's soon dominating everything and I begin struggling against Robby trying to push back against his thrusting.

Rob's apparently noticed the rougher seas too as he's tightening the arm over my side and increasing the speed and strength of his thrusts. He's getting more and more desperate with his thrusting and it's a little scary every time this happens because we both lose some of the togetherness-bond we've felt which gets replaced by an uncontrollable 'need' to accommodate this overwhelming urge that's unstoppable anyway... the quickly building force of nature that's become a necessity we must experience and it's the supernova of all human experiences... and its name is sexual climax.

An asteroid could be hurtling towards earth and it wouldn't concern me as much as the next few seconds of my existence with Rob tight against my ass humping there as he's making whining breathy sounds even as I'm into my own countdown: five, four, three, two, one and blastoff... "Eeeeiiii!" I'm somewhere in space and time for a tiny fraction of a second watching in fascination as creamy cum flies from my throbbing rock-hard boner. The white creamy liquid shoots straight out a surprisingly long way before a tsunami of sensations ripples from my groin to cover every inch of my body! I shudder while watching that string of semen dropping to the floor unceremoniously as another streak of cum shoots out before I can squeal again... before I can even inhale and for a few seconds I'm frozen with amazement at the sensations bursting all over me that can't possibly be this awesome. And then a warm fantastically wonderful feeling spreads out from my groin but it's a secondary level of pleasure, an after effect of the big bang and it's fading quickly and I'm able to once again notice the sensations from my rectum that are quite pleasurable as well... aah, such inconceivable pleasure!

I return immediately to this dimension, the third dimension with a moan, "Oooh, mmm." It all happened almost simultaneously and now my body's limp and I can think about nothing but that for a short while. It was so intense, so fantastic... and then the realization comes over me that when I'm with Rob this experience isn't actually so unusual or unique after all. Nope, we've done this many times before and we'll do it many more times in the future. It's just that, during those last few seconds it seems like a once in a lifetime experience... it's not though! Haha, that thought brings a small smile to my lips as the familiar lingering after-effect of that fantastic orgasm buzz around my cock on a farewell trip and I feel so contentedly smug... but grateful too.

Other reality checks become obvious now as well, and with a sigh I notice, huh, Robby's cum exploding inside didn't register this time, not like it often does but it is slushy in my ass so Robby definitely had his orgasm and as further evidence of that he's breathing deeply and his heart is pounding fast against my back. Rob's forehead is damp with perspiration too and now he's lightly rubbing his forehead against the back of my shoulder. I can't imagine Rob felt anything nearly as extraordinarily awesome as my climax, although I hope he somehow did.

With a noisy exhale, Rob moves his hips back pulling his hard cock out slowly as I go, "Ooooh," and then with a gentle tug on my shoulder Rob pulls me backward until I'm lying on my back partially on the mattress and partially on his side. He goes, "Oooh, Jesus, that was good!" Well, yeah, but I'm not sure what Jesus had to do with me feeling so fucking good... haha!

Ya know, I'm not sure what to call that sex we just had, not that naming our sex is mandatory or even a sane thing to do for that matter. It's something I do for fun sometimes. Yeah, but that wasn't quite lover's sex although it was maybe enough like lover's sex at the beginning to qualify slightly. Mostly though I've gotta label it extemporaneous sex, sex just for the fun of it. Then I'm like... really Dylan, this is what's on your mind? Fuck... haha!

Putting my leg over Robs to nestle it in between his, I mumble, "Yeah, you're right, Robby, that was pretty good sex. Pretty fucking good, but ya know what? Not to be greedy, but one of these times I want you to finish what you started with the oral sex," and turning my head to look at him, I add, "Alright?" He chuckles and gets his arm under the back of my neck pulling my head over like he does all the time, and then he kisses the side of my forehead and mutters, "Some people are hard to please." I snuggle against him, and then say, "That's true, but it's simple, all you need to do is try harder." He chuckles and then mutters, "Okay, I will."

See it's impossible to retain the level of excellence that sex act reached for very long. Our human brains can register it at the moment and then maybe hold it in our consciousness for a second or two but then it begins evaporating because it's too massive a thing to contemplate for long. I'm already wondering if it even happened or if I fantasized it. That's one of a million reasons I want to do it with Robby again... see if what I believe happened is even possible.

After a few sighs from both of us, Robby says, "I thought my dick flew off when I climaxed," I snicker and he adds, "No, I'm serious, it was that fabulous a climax and it's mostly you who makes it so, baby. You're so sexy and cute and you smell so good and, as you know, your ass is magical and then there's the small matter of you taking care of my mentee's virgin situation, meaning I won't need to... that's an awesome thing about you too, and you're, um, perfect." I go, "Ah, well yeah... thanks, Rob. That's all true, of course, but don't put yourself down, you always add a little something to our sex as well." He laughs, muttering, "That's damn nice of you to say, but I know I need to try harder." I chuckle as Rob's moving on the bed a little getting even more comfortable, and then he asks, "On a serious note, are we all set for the two Thanksgiving dinners?" Oh, what the hell? We're back to practical matters already... boo!

I'm like, "In a word, 'yes', it's all arranged. As you're well aware, your mom's been texting me regularly ever since you had me send that text to her when we were going home that first weekend two months ago now. It was that first Saturday we worked at the office." Robby says, "Yeah, mom texts you because you answer her texts whereas I usually don't. I forget or, heh heh, ignore her texts on purpose." I mutter, "So rude of you but whatever. Um, anyway, your mom's having the traditional Thanksgiving dinner like you guys always have at two 'o'clock. Cocktails and hors-d'oeuvres at one o'clock, or whatever time we want while we're watching the early football game."

He's still got his arm around the back of my neck with my head on his shoulder as he mutters, "Good," and then he asks, "Who will be there this year?" I go, "Let me see if I remember. Um, Dodger and his partner obviously. That is, Dodger's business partner! Um, I forget the guy's name." Robby goes, "Josh Price, that's his name. Who else will be there for dinner?" I go, "Well, your grandparents, the ones I visited with you that time. I don't know if they're your mom's parents or your dad's. And then an uncle and aunt of yours with one of your cousins. They're from Delaware visiting Boston and staying at a downtown hotel, but they're coming for dinner."

He goes, "My grandparents are my mom's parents. The aunt and uncle are on dad's side of the family. Aunt Paula is my dad's sister and she married an airline pilot, my uncle Richie. They'll probably fly into Logan for free. They're okay... Uncle Richie will get hammered early, but he's a friendly drunk. They have a nineteen-year-old daughter, Pauleen, who always used to hit on me. Heh heh, that's until mom told Aunt Paula I'm queer." I go, "Robby! Don't use that word."

We're quiet for a minute and then he goes, "Yeah, that'll be okay. It'll be awesome seeing Dodger, huh?" I nod my head against his shoulder, "Yeah. Jeez, I haven't seen him since the beginning of last summer. He seemed pretty much the same as he's always been. I didn't notice anything particularly different from what I remembered about him from when I saw him last summer?" My dick quivers a little as two or three flashing memories of last summer skid past my brain... memories of Dodger fucking me awesomely. I squirm a little but resist grabbing my dick as Rob asks, "What's wrong?" I go, "Nothing."

Another minute of silence and then Robby asks, "So, how about your family?" I go, "Yeah, also the same as last year. They'll have a traditional Thanksgiving turkey dinner at seven o'clock. I mean that's when we're supposed to get there for drinks and whatnot. The dinner won't be served until eight or eight-thirty. The timing works out for us." Rob's nodding his head, muttering, "Good, that's all good," and I add, "It'll be at Tom's condo 'cause his place is larger than Tim's. The guys do all the cooking of course." Rob goes, "Oh man, that dinner was gourmet delicious last year. Those dudes can cook, and that was a real treat." I turn my head to give him a 'look' and he goes, "You can cook awesomely too, baby! Jeez, you're an awesome cook or chef... ya know..." I mutter, "You better say that or it'll be Lean Cuisine for you." He snickers, and asks, "Who else will be at your family's dinner?" I go, "Chubby of course, and the twins' parents are flying in from Utah or, um, someplace. We met them at a cookout last summer." He goes, "Oh, yeah, I think I remember them. They called us fags as I recall." I go, "No they didn't! And stop using that word too!"

We're quiet again and then Rob reminds me we'll be working at the office on Saturday, but I've got no problem with that at all. He finally yawns and then says, "Jeez, I'm getting tired, but before we go to sleep..." and he rustles around and then slides down the bed, mumbling, "I got a boner from you lying against me and from your sexy voice. Haha, it gave me a boner, can you believe that? Anyway, do ya wanna lift your legs?" He pushes the covers to the end of the bed as I chuckle, muttering, "Pull my legs back? What on earth for?' and then I pull my legs up and back, my feet dangling above the mattress.

After giving my ass two hard whacks, "SMACK! SMACK!" making Rob grunt, his cock forces it's way past my sphincter and a little bit further up my ass with Rob's still getting in position. He mutters, "Ummm, I got you again, babe. Don't move." The fat head of his boner went in tightly but it only hurt a little. I'm still opened up back there so this time it was a much easier start. Rob's got his knees spread comfortably and, as he leans over me he starts right in with fast hard thrusting and I hear "Slapslapslapslap," sounds with our grunts and moans accompanying those sounds of Rob's body slapping against my buttocks.

Omigod, this feels good and it goes on longer... like six or seven excellent minutes, which maybe isn't very long to some but for us it is! Our arousal gets very high very fast and our climaxes are always anxious to get on with it. I just squeeze my eyes shut and concentrating on every second of fantastic vibrations souring from my rectum and my hard throbbing cock. It feels better and better the longer he does it and I'm biting my lip in between my almost whining moans as I'm floating in sexual pleasure for quite a while... and then my climax takes over and I start desperately humping up off the mattress anticipating the big climax that's about to blow and then just in time I push my stone boner to the side as I squeal while it shoots a fast-moving one, two, and then an awesome third streak of cum making me shudder all over.

Robby keeps me in place with a hand pushing behind each of my lifted legs until he finishes off his orgasmic climax and then with sweat beading on his forehead he laughs and gasps before saying, "Holy shit I really loved that! Omigod," and his cock abruptly pulls out of my ass. Rob flops down next to me as I breathe deeply stretching out my legs and, oh man, I'm feeling great!

Taking another deep breath, I say, "Now I don't feel like going to sleep, Mister Stud! That felt soooo gooooood!" Leaning toward the bedside table, Rob's grans some tissues from a box of tissues and wipes his forehead, saying, "Yeah, that felt good alright." Oh, man did it ever!

Dropping the tissue, he lies back down and mutters, "Heh heh, I was kneeling in cum the entire time. Ya know, from our first time... from our first fuck." I go, "It's your cum, ya know." He snickers, "Yeah, I know. My bad for not helping clean some of that up." I go, "Um, I'm guessing we're not gonna do anything about our cum this time either. I shot most of my load off the bed and onto the floor but yours is coming back out of my ass." Reaching down to grab the covers, Rob pulls them over us and puts his arm across my chest, saying, "I'll get to cleaning up our spunk in a minute, babe. I just need to let my heart stop trying to beat me to death," and then he kisses me, saying, "Isn't this fun?" Yeah, it is. We lay together and soon I'm very relaxed... and ain't life grand. After that, we both must have fallen asleep because I don't remember anything else, and when I wake up, Robby's not in bed.

Rolling over I feel the crusty spunk dried on the sheets and my butt cheeks, and who knows where else? And who cares! That was awesome sex last night and it makes me smile to think, while it was great, it wasn't all that unusual... not at all! I mean, it was awesome but Rob and I have the most perfect sex life together. It's like I always hoped for. We have sex like that regularly and Rob's close to insatiable anymore, so what could be better? Haha!

I hear the shower running so I know where Rob is. I feel full of energy so I jump out of bed and strip the sheets off the mattress. Bundling them up, I shove the bundle in the overloaded hamper and then put fresh linens on the bed. After putting on the blanket and bedspread I step back and nod my head, proud of myself for taking the initiative to change the sheets. Robby comes in the bedroom drying his hair with a towel looking so, um, clean and new. Oh, he shaved too which makes him look younger. He sees the freshly made-up bed and goes, "Oh, awesome job, Dylan!"

Without thinking about doing it, I glance at his hefty cock for a split second and, oh boy, my buttocks tightens-up on its own... a reflex action as I manage to say, "Yep, I changed the sheets practicing for my wifely duties after we get married." He goes, "Don't say shit like that, Dylan. I'd never call you my wife. It's stupid!" I go, "I was joking, but if people want to call themselves that... whatever." He goes, "Well, we're not going to! We'll call each other 'my partner' because that's what we are, right? Partners in life, for life and in every other fucking way too." Jeez, I didn't know he felt that strongly about it. I go, "That works for me."

Looking at my watch, I go, "It's nine-thirty, Rob, and we've got that idiotic 'History of Rock and Roll' class at quarter to twelve. Then that's it! We're off until Monday morning." He nods, "Yeah, I need a break from Merrimack. How 'bout you?" I go, "Yep, me too. So, I'll take a quick shower and then make us some breakfast."

Glancing at my cell phone on the bureau as I'm pulling at my jockey shorts in the back where the material is sticking to Rob's dried cum. I read the text message that comes up when I hit the button and go, "Oh, here's another text from mom? I mean, your mom. She's making the meatloaf dinner we like so much and she says we should save our appetites." He chuckles, "That's what mom texted you?" I go, "Uh huh, yeah, she texted that at eight o'clock this morning." I text back that Rob and I can't wait till dinner and then say to Rob, "Seriously, your mom makes a killer meatloaf dinner with those garlic mashed potatoes and that sweet/spicy tomato sauce on the meatloaf." He's still naked as he looks at his own cell phone, muttering, "Dad wants me to call him."

I pull off my stiff underpants and toss it on top of the sheets in the hamper, muttering, "I hope to hell he doesn't want us to work Friday too. Ya know, after drinking and eating too much on Thanksgiving I'd like to lay around doing nothing on Friday." Robby mumbles, "Yeah, me too," as he's putting on a pair of boxer briefs.

Robby sits at the desk, turns on his laptop and then calls his dad." I head for the bathroom as I hear a ping that a text message just came in on my phone. Going back to see the text... oh, it's from Danny asking for a ride home. Huh, he was supposed to leave for home last night. I text real fast, 'Of course but what happened to you leaving last night?' and he texts back, 'Something came up, baby'. Well, I delete that text because he said 'baby' and then I call him to tell him we're leaving after class... around two o'clock if not sooner. We'll text the exact time when we know it. I tell him he needs to be outside with the stuff he's bringing home.

Danny's his usual cheerful self, guaranteeing me he'll be ready. When I end the call I remember the nut never did arrange to have me do his haircut. Damn, I hope he's not doing that for spite just because I missed my so-called 'scheduled' haircut last time. And, Jesus, Danny looks like a kid from the seventies with his hair covering his ears and over his collar in back. Not a cool look nowadays... and he probably won't tell his mom he's gay because of that! Why do I care? I don't know, but I do.

Before going to the bathroom I write on a piece of paper that we need to get Danny before we leave. Rob's listening to his dad on the phone but he looks at me and nods his head, like... 'sure'. I rub his damp hair and then walk down the short hall to the bathroom. As I'm doing everything I need to in the bathroom I'm wondering if I'll get a chance for some private Danny-time over the holiday break. And I guess I need to admit his longish hair is kinda sexy although I'm not gonna tell him that. Some guys can pull off that 'look' while, in my opinion, most guys can't. I think it's because Danny's so youthful looking and when his hair is long like it is now it's curly, or it's wavy more than curly I guess.

After taking a shower I wipe the steam off the mirror and look at myself and give a thought to not shaving but then immediately come to my senses. Mr. and Mrs. D. like their boys clean shaven. What decade did they grow up in I wonder? Would it have been the eighties? That's when the stupid long hair for guys trend was fading out for the younger generation whose mantra has always been throughout time: be different than my parents! Good for them or good for us I should say since we're that 'next generation'. For the most part, we're continuing with that trend except now it's turned into short hair for guys, but with beards! I can't grow a beard yet and maybe I never will, which wouldn't break my heart in the least. I do, however, have some facial hair that requires attention. I lather my face and shave as if I had a full beard. My mustache is basically flat blond hairs that in some light you can't even see, but in other light, it looks kinda cool. I shave it off anyway.

In the bedroom, I find Robby's just finished packing a few things to take home. I ask, "What did your dad want?" Robby goes, "Nothing much. Just giving me a heads-up that I'll be in the planning meeting all day Saturday and I need to be taking notes. I hate taking notes!" Getting my smaller satchel from under the bed, I ask, "What will I be doing?" Rob goes, "Um, you'll be working with his secretary, Dottie." I go, "You mean his 'assistant'." Robby shrugs, "Whatever. I think you guys will be going over every step of preparation the company went through prior to our currently running huge project. The one that will be finishing up in June or July. Dad wants to hit the ground running on this latest big deal so you guys are gonna outline all the wrong things we did last time. At least that's the plan. "

Oh, brother! Rob said, 'hit the ground running'. Another corny business saying like 'grow your business'. That's another one I can't stand. I nod my head but don't say anything. Mr. Dickers' assistant Dottie is kind of a cool lady although she gets into teasing me a bit too much.

Rob's dressed in old jeans and a Merrimack sweatshirt and sneakers. I've got a towel around my waist being more modest than Rob usually is. Actually though, I like being naked, haha, so I don't know why I have this towel around my waist. Robby looks over at me and goes, "Oh my, don't you look good enough to eat! I see you shaved your cute face." I go, "Hey, I'm disappointed you got dressed, Rob. I thought you might want to mess around this morning." He goes, "You know damn well I'd love messing around but this morning I need to run down to get a few things from the ballpark. I'll only be fifteen minutes." I ask, "What things?" He shrugs, "Videos of the guys hitting in the batting cage and some of me too. You know, to study what the guys are doing right and wrong. I'll have time while we're home and then I've also got some material about our spring schedule... scouting reports. Nothing you need to worry your awesome head about."

I tell Rob, "I'm starting breakfast as soon as I get dressed so don't start talking with the guys down there or you'll be eating a cold breakfast." He laughs and says, "I know you're trying to get me to say something snarky about you sounding like a wife... but I'm not gonna say it." I go, "You just did." He laughs and pats my ass, mumbling, "I'll be back in fifteen minutes." He gets his coat on as I'm looking in the mirror and then turning on the hairdryer to comb my flattop. Fuck, it's definitely too long and fuzzy now, exactly like Danny said it would be if I didn't get it cut ten days ago when he had me 'scheduled' for a haircut. Scheduled!

Robby is wearing regular everyday clothes like he always wears to go home. I prefer to look a little better than 'everyday' when going home because Mr. and Mrs. D. always compliment me about that. Not dressed-up clothes exactly, but I chose a pair of my newer khakis and a newish long-sleeve Polo pullover. It's sort of a soccer shirt... untucked obviously.

No, I'm not fanatical about looking good but just respectfully neat. Instead of sneakers, I've got a sort of a sneaker lookalike on my feet. They're Jack Wolfskin rough suede leather sneaker-looking shoes that are called hiking shoes. I bought a pair at the Natick Mall with some of the money I made working at Dickers and Son one of the weekends we went home. I spent $89.99 of my earnings to be exact. I needed to treat myself. This footwear is obviously a step up in class from sneakers and I've only worn these things once or twice so they go with my upscale 'look' today. They're dark tan with orange interior and they're really cool looking, plus they go great with the light tan skinny khakis I have on. I don't need a belt for the khakis because I'm not tucking in the shirt. Looking at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door I'm like, -- hmmm, I guess I do look a little dressed-up, but cool too!

In the kitchen, I put eight breakfast sausages in a frying pan to slowly brown. After microwaving two medium red bliss potatoes for ninety seconds I take them out to cool while I have a mug of coffee and a cigarette on the balcony. It's a clear bright sunshiny day in the low-fifties. I'm thinking about Chubby who went home yesterday. He skipped his classes today to go on what he called a friendship date with MJ last night. Mary Jo still doesn't like me... haha! That's what Chubby said, and he added, 'The cunt', and laughed. It has to be a sex thing with those two because they keep saying they're 'never going to see each other again'... and then they do. Hot sex overlooks a lot of disagreement between the parties involved.

Done my smoke, I'm back inside peeling the partially cooked red bliss potatoes, then I cut them into half-inch cubes, cut some onions and red peppers the same size and all three ingredients go into another frying pan with some olive oil. That's what I call home fries. I defrost some English muffins planning that our breakfast will be those three things along with scrambled eggs which I won't scramble until Robby gets back. In the meantime, I make another coffee and take it in the bedroom and begin packing clothes to take home, including another outfit of semi-dressed up clothes to wear for work on Saturday.

It's twenty-five minutes before Robby comes in the front door carrying a shoebox which I assume is full of videos. I'd just dropped my satchel with my clothes next to the door so I'm right there when the door opened. Rob says, "Hey, you... give me a kiss." I grin and then give him an extra juicy wet kiss which makes him laugh and then, looking at me he says, "Jesus, you got dressed-up again to go home! What's that, the fifth time in a row? I keep telling you... you don't need to dress up." I say emphatically, "I'm not dressed up! Christ, khakis and a fucking soccer pullover isn't 'dressed up'!" As I walk into the kitchen, he goes, "Yeah, that's a little bit dressed-up, Dylan, but oh shit... I love those fucking shoes! I'm buying a pair this weekend. Where'd you buy those killer kicks?" I tell him as I begin flipping the home fries. Robby comes over to stand behind me with his hands on my shoulders as he kisses my neck, murmuring, "We could mess around now baby," and his next kiss is a wet one followed by a lick on the side of my neck that gives me shivers.

I carefully turn the fire down under the two frying pans and says, "Okay, let's mess around," and he starts pulling my pants down while giggling because he knows I'm going to bitch about it. I go, "No! Let me take off my khakis. I don't want to get them wrinkled!" He goes, "Oh, see, if you had on some old sweatpants we'd already been screwing. Those fancy clothes slow us down." I go, "Fancy clothes my ass. You go get the Astroglide while I prepare myself to be ravished."

After taking off my awesome so-called hiking shoes, I barely have time to neatly lay my khakis over the back of the sofa before smiling Robby is back with glistening Astroglide on his two middle fingers. He sees me at the sofa and says, "Oh, good idea... lie over the arm of the sofa, baby, and keep your cute ass up for your man." As I do that he pulls my jockey shorts down below my buttocks, adding, "This won't take long, son. Um, have you ever had a guy's hard penis up your bum before?" In a little kid's voice, I go, "No, Mister, but Billy Barns stuck a broomstick up my ass once." He goes, "Oh, well, ya see... that doesn't count. Everyone has had a broomstick stuck up their ass." I laugh and mumble, "Oh."

What's better than some morning sexy fun? Robby was never this playful before last summer and he's so much more fun nowadays. Both middle fingers force their way inside my ass and then Robby moves them around lubricating the first two inches of my rectum. After the initial stretching, it feels really good and it especially feels really good on my always willing-to-be-massaged prostate gland. That gland is always up for a party. Pulling his fingers out, he mumbles, "Oops, let's think about this for a second." I'm like, "What...?"

While stroking lube on his fat penis that he's pulled out through his fly again, Rob walks to the kitchen saying over his shoulder, "We can't have your little cock spunking all over the side of the sofa, sonny-boy." He grabs the dishtowel off the kitchen bar and comes back to me, saying, "Here ya go, kid, put this over the arm of the sofa and let it hang down past that little pecker of yours so your tiny bit of jism doesn't soil the sofa." In a squeaky voice, I ask, "What's jism, Mister?"

Robby's laughing as he strokes himself. That makes me recall doing that myself the other day with Pony and it does feel mighty good, especially with the lube. Lying back down with the dishtowel under me, hanging there to catch my flying sperm at climax, I say, "When do I do that, Mister? When do I make stuff come of my pee pee? Do I start pulling on it now?" He laughs out loud and then mutters, "You'll go blind if you do too much of that, ya know." I go, "Oh, is that why I need glasses?" He says, "Of course it is you four-eyed goofball!"

I'm laughing as Robby's hard cock head hits my anus and then I go, "Oh!" and involuntarily drop my ass a little but Robby gets his hands on my hips and lifts as he pushes in that fat hard penis and all joking around ends. My face scrunches up as the pain circles in and around my rectum registering in my brain. I grunt, "Ow," and Robby murmurs, "Sorry," and stops halfway inside me to rub under my shirt up and down my sides. His hands feel nice and smooth except for the lube on his right hand. There isn't much left on the palm so after rubbing up and down my sides a few times I don't notice the slippery Astroglide and now the pain is fading too so I let out a, "Mmmmm." Rob takes his hands out from under my shirt and grabs my hips pushing the last couple of inches of that hard log inside me and then he lies against my buttocks and moans, "Oh, Christ, this feels so fucking good, Dylan." I mutter, "Um," and he says, "All the time I was at the ballpark I was thinking of how fucking sexy-hot you looked coming into the bedroom after your shower. Shiny clean and, really, you're so fucking cute I got horny as hell for you!"

His big boner seems to throb inside me as it's getting a little longer... I can feel it do that. The more aroused he gets the bigger his boner feels and it's already got me stretched to dominant capacity. Yes, that's true... Rob pushing his hugely fat boner up my ass is dominance right there. Not a lot of guys could take that big boy in their ass, never mind take it a couple hundred times. Well yeah, that's true but Robby seems to find willing participants who can take it. Or, wait... no, he likes to 'bottom' during his side sex. That's how we started years ago, Robby as the bottom. He's been accommodating me by topping, not that it's a huge sacrifice on his part I imagine.

When Rob pulls his boner back though, all analysis on my part stops! My rectum has my brain's full attention now and during my musings, Robby was saying something I didn't hear but neither of us cares about that now as the sound of males fucking is in our ears and minds again. "Slapslapslap," sounds and shortly my moans, "Umm, umm, umm, ummm," are all I care about. Oooh, fuck! Nothing feels better, nothing feels as good as this and I concentrate on that sliding fat boner hitting every place it should and doing that awesomely and often.

This is one of those times, unexplained times when everything feels better than the fantastic way it normally feels getting fucked by Robby. I don't know why but sensations are overwhelming this morning and I'm struggling on the arm of the sofa with Robby pushing me against it with both hands on my back just above my buttocks while continuing to pound his hard fat cock up my ass harder and faster as he grunts and moans, "Umpth, oooh, ooh, ahhh, fucks, ummmm," with "Slapslapslap," sounds surrounding us.

It lasts about as long as I'd expect, meaning not long before the roaring orgasm train totally takes control of my brain and body. Ooooh, how can it be humanly possible to experience anything this exquisite? My climactic orgasm blooms into a beautifully violent explosion of pleasure vibrations. I squeal at the cum gushing from my rock hard cock that flies out less than an inch before splatting against the hanging dishtowel and then again as I rock on the arm of that sofa, my feet kicking against the floor.

Robby's already blown his load too and he steps back pulling his cock from my ass as he chuckles and mutters, "Bucking wild pony today, huh babe?" All I'm thinking about are the after effects zipping around my groin and ass from that amazing climax. I reach my hand to the other side of the sofa arm to stroke my cock a few times. Holy shit! Oh man, that felt fabulous. I shake a little bit, not wanting to get off the sofa's arm hoping he'll do that again but Robby isn't aware of my super climax and he smacks my ass, "SMACK!" saying, "Let's get that breakfast cooking, huh?" He's still in the playful mood while I try getting myself together. Whoa!

I get off the sofa arm and take my hand off my pecker, saying, "You don't even know the climax I just had." He goes, "One of those unexplained super climaxes?" I nod, "Uh huh, I'll say." He goes, "I get those too and I don't know why." He's walking over to the kitchen where he rips off a Bounty paper towel, asking, "Do you think it's the subconscious mind causing super climaxes for reasons unknown to us? You know, like you're always talking about." He hands me the paper towel and, as I'm wiping the drooling cum off my ass, I go, "I'm not always talking about it. I might mention our subconscious minds once in a blue moon, whatever a blue moon is." He goes, "Okay, but I'm happy my boyfriend had a nice climax. I did too... now what's for breakfast?"

See, he couldn't have had a climax like I just had or he'd be more enthusiastic about it. That's just one more example of how I have a special gene that's somehow been passed down from some super horny caveman allowing me to have prehistoric-size climaxes. One more lucky thing I had nothing to do with but that I appreciate. Damn, that felt good! Pulling my underpants up, I go, "I knew you wouldn't understand," and he comes over and gets me in a hug, saying, "What I do understand is how special you are and I'm so fucking lucky you love me! That's what I know!" Yeah, well, okay then...

Putting my khakis back on, I'm like, "Me too, Rob. We're both lucky. It's almost fate, ya know?" He's over at the stove picking up a sausage link from the frying pan muttering, "Ow, hot," as he bites it in half. Shaking my head, I walk over and turn the fire up on everything and then get the eggs out, saying, "Whip about six eggs in a bowl, Rob. I'll start toasting and buttering our English muffins."

After that fun sex, we both feel good but it wasn't lover's sex so we've talked about it all we're going to. We're spoiled for sure. It's only when we're living together that this kind of frequent extemporaneous sex is possible, and I mean whenever we want it. For that reason, and a lot of other reasons too, I can't imagine not living with Robby. I simply can't imagine it! Seriously!

We eat our breakfast and then clean up the kitchen extra good today because it'll be five days before we'll be using it again. Leave a scrap of scrambled egg on the counter for five days and it isn't a simple matter cleaning it up. Clean it now and it only takes a spray of kitchen cleaner and a swipe of a paper towel. When we're satisfied we've cleaned enough, we put on our backpacks and go to class.

Walking into the lecture hall I look around and estimate half the class decided to skip class today. Obviously a spiteful person today, the professor takes attendance. It's only the second time all semester he's done that. The other time was our first class. He says, "Okay, now I know who my students are that give a shit about rock and roll. Ya know boys and girls this course counts just as much as your advanced physics course as far as your GPA scores go. Just thought I'd remind you of that, although I doubt very much any of you have an advanced physics course." After dumping on all of us, he mutters, "You're excused. Enjoy the holiday," and he walks out before it sinks in that we can leave too.

For a second we look at each other before it hits us that... we're done here! Ha! Rob and I get up and walk out, saying, "What a hot shit prof, huh? He disses us and then does us all a favor." I go, "Plus, we are not on his shit list of students who blew off his elective course as though it doesn't matter." Rob goes, "Which it actuality doesn't matter except he's right about this grade counting as much as any other." So, we've got that going for us although, to be honest about it, Rob and I don't participate in the class discussions. Get serious... a course on Rock 'n Roll!

We light cigarettes as we walk back to the pickup with Robby saying, "I hope Danny's ready to go. We could leave for home right now if he is." With my cigarette between my lips, I take out my cell phone and text Danny asking, 'you ready to leave for home?' and he texts right back, 'Yep, I'm ready. All I need to do is get back to my dorm and pack, plus can you do my haircut?"' WHAT? He hasn't even begun getting ready to leave, plus he thinks I'll give him a haircut? Haha, I'd like to but not with these good clothes I've got on. And, this is what he meant by 'Yep, I'm ready to go...'

I tell Rob and he frowns and mutters, "Bullshit. Let me use your phone," and he types a text, 'We're leaving in twenty minutes. Be ready or get another ride.' I whine, "That's not very nice, Robby. Jeez, he's our friend... and he'll think I sent that text!" It's beginning to seem as though Danny's more my friend now than Rob's. I text, 'That was Rob, Danny. Get ready as soon as you can. I'll bring barber stuff with me and do your haircut at home.' He texts back a seemingly unconcerned, 'Yeah, okay, baby, whatever you say.' I delete that.

Danny wasn't worried about Rob's rude text and obviously, Rob wasn't. I'm the only one who cared. Robby's smirking, asking, "Did you smooth over my text with your boyfriend?" I go, "I only have one boyfriend, Rob, and you're it, but I did smooth things over with Danny after your rudeness. I'm simply a nicer person than you are." He goes, "You are pretty fucking nice, I'll give you that. So, when can we leave?" I go, "Soon," and he smiles as he puts his arm across my shoulders, muttering, "Yeah, well... I better be your only boyfriend." I go, "You better try being nicer too. He's my buddy and you're my boyfriend." He goes, "Good to have that cleared up."

When I said, 'Danny's my buddy'... that was 'code' that Rob understands means Danny and I are doing buddy sex. Robby knew that anyway but I liked that his response basically endorsed that he doesn't especially care about it. He's not especially concerned that Danny and I are buddy-sex partners. Of course, he'd prefer we weren't, but Rob's and my long-term arrangement hasn't changed. Plus, he's confident that it's he and I who are the only lovers involved here, and anyone who might be involved with either of us is something quite different than a lover. I just wish Danny understood that better.

Back at the apartment, waiting for Danny to get his act together Rob and I casually look through the stuff we're taking home and add things. Electronics, my book, Rob decides to bring a sports coat for the meeting on Saturday and I forgot to bring regular sneakers. I tie the laces together and hang my sneakers over the satchel. I can't wear these new shoes for five days and, oh yeah, I need my barber stuff if I'm giving Danny a haircut. He has a barbershop of sorts in his garage but he wants the haircut before going home and seeing his mom.

When we're positive we have everything we'll need for what actually amounts to only four days at home, we're on the sofa with our feet on the coffee table analyzing what we need to do this last month in order for us to 'Ace' all four of our courses this semester. As Rob and I goof around touching and giggling like young teenagers, I get a text from Danny, 'Hey guys, we leaving today sometime... or what?' Robby looks at me when I show him Danny's text and we both chuckle because it's been almost an hour since our last text to Danny and we're the ones holding up our departure. Rob mutters, "And Danny's supposed to be the one who isn't organized..."

We load our stuff in the bed of the pickup and pull the tonneau back in place. With our stuff in the truck bed that leaves the whole back seat for Danny and whatever he's taking home with him. With Robby driving, we finally begin our trip home for the too-short Thanksgiving break. This is our sixteenth Thanksgiving break since first grade and it's the very last one we'll ever have from any kind of educational institution.

Danny's not waiting at the end of dormitory row where I asked him to be. Rob and I shake our heads, neither of us the least bit surprised. I mutter, "I'll go get him," and I hop out of the pickup as a memory from my distant past flashing past my mind. It's not the first time this memory flashed by; it's a very strong memory. It's the one where Robby and I, the summer after our Merrimack freshman year, drove to Ryan's house expecting him to be outside waiting for us. This is when Ryan lived in Framingham before his father got transferred to Georgia. Anyway, I went to get him and when I rang the doorbell he opened the door and grabbed the front of my shirt pulling me inside. Ryan kicked the door shut and with us both in a serious animal heat for one another we got into one of the hottest make outs I've ever experienced. Then Ryan yanked my pants down and fucked me as hard as I've ever been fucked, and it was right in the foyer of his house with his parents upstairs!

Omigod, I'll probably never forget that! Jesus, I shot a load four feet long that just made it past the Oriental rug we were standing on. Yeah, Ryan filled me up to overflowing with his cum, then bent me over and spanked me hard and loud before pulling up my pants and then patted my ass to make sure some of his cum soaked into my underwear... and my jeans eventually. Stunned, my ass hot and stinging, I looked at him, and he said, "Let's go!" and we went.

How the hell his parents didn't hear us, especially the loud thirty-second spanking he gave me, I can't imagine. The spanking gave me another boner that I was trying to get to lie sideways as Ryan pulled on my arm like he was taking me to the principals' office as we hurriedly walked down the sidewalk to Rob in the pickup. Yeah, Ryan dominantly controlled me for a few months there. Omigod, that was a supernova-hot sub/dom relationship for sure. That memory resurfaces every now and then and every time it does I need to adjust my junk and make myself think of something else. It's my favorite dominant buddy-sex episode ever. Yeah, and it was with Ryan who could do dominance with one hand tied behind his back, metaphorically speaking.

While adjusting my crotch, I jog down dormitory row to Danny's dorm all the while making myself think of being naked in a pool of cold water with a big chunk of ice floating by. Getting that visual in my mind helps my dick go soft. Yeah, naked in a tub of cold water usually works.

As soon as I knock on Danny's door he opens it and says, "Oh good, you're here. Help me carry my stuff, Dylan." He has a suitcase, a duffle bag, a satchel with sporting equipment in it, plus his backpack and a couple of pairs of jeans on top of the duffle bag that I assume wouldn't fit inside. All that shit is piled next to the door. I go, "Well, hi Danny... nice to see you." He hunches his shoulders and chuckles, saying, "Fuck! I forgot to say 'hi' again, didn't I? Sorry, baby," and he hugs and kisses my lips and then goes, "I'm flustered, that's why I forgot! And look at all that shit I need to take home! All my dirty clothes 'cause mom likes to do my wash but, fuck, I can't fit everything in the duffle bag. I had to leave my sheets and shit on the bed and I need to do a report during the break and look at my hair! Mom won't even recognize me and I was supposed to go home yesterday but that unreliable asshole, Dixon, said his car was already full at the last minute." I'm sighing because Danny always has some kind of unusual problem. Picking up the duffle bag, ignoring all his jabbering, I mutter, "Goddammit, Danny, I've asked you repeatedly to stop calling me 'baby'. Please!" He looks startled like it's news to him, but he mutters, "Sure, of course."

As he's putting on his backpack and picking up the suitcase and then the dirty jeans, plus his sports satchel, he says, "When can you give me the haircut? I was thinking we could go to your house first and you could do it there. Then I'd pop in on my mom at home with a fresh haircut and tell her I'm gay-as-a-maypole-celebration." I'm like, "What's a maypole celebration?" We're bumping into each other trying to get out the door at the same time. I step back and then follow Danny out as he mumbles, "I don't know." Walking toward the pickup, I say, "Anyway, that's a great idea for your haircut Danny except how would we get from my condo to your house? Rob isn't gonna wait for me to do your haircut and, anyway, the barber clippers and everything else are packed underneath other stuff I'm talking home."

As we're walking toward the pickup carrying all Danny's crap, Robby gets this incredulous expression on his face. He gets out of the truck, asking, "What's all this shit you're bringing?" Danny goes, "Thanks for driving me." Danny ignored Rob's question, of course. Robby opens the tonneau on the truck's bed again and the three of us get Danny's stuff inside. It wouldn't all fit in the back seat and still leave room for Danny.

Danny gives Rob a quick hug then, asks, "How ya doing?" Robby goes, "Great, Danny, but what's all this stuff you're taking home?" Danny mutters, "Just the essentials." Rob's rolling his eyes at me as we get in the front bucket seats. Driving away from the curb, Danny says, "Omigod, a primo set of wheels ya got here, Rob! Awesome ride, dude!" Robby nods, "Thanks," and that smooths over the extra cargo annoyance. Guys like to hear compliments about their 'ride'... and their dog too if they have one.

Glancing back at Danny, I give him a grin because, Goddamn, he looks so cool. I mutter, "You're a real piece of work, Danny." He asks, "Seriously though, how about the haircut, Dylan? Whaddaya think?" Robby goes, "Oh, thank God you're getting that hair of yours cut, Danny. You look like shit," and Danny goes, "I've heard that before, yeah..." I go, "For Christ sake, I've been talking about your haircut for six weeks, Danny. Actually, it's been since the middle of last summer! Naturally, you ignored all that... but now, all of a sudden, you insist you need a haircut immediately!" He mutters, "Yeah, I know, it's crazy huh? Um, help me out though," and then excitedly he says, "Yo, Rob, guess what? Did Dylan tell you?" Rob shrugs, "Tell me what?" and Danny says, "I'm finally doing it. I'm telling my mom I'm a fag." They both laugh at that as I say, "Stop using that word." Robby goes, "Awesomely brave of you, Danny. And you're only twenty-two. Wow, and most guys come out in their teens." Danny goes, "That's bullshit, Rob!"

Danny's right; there's no one 'right' time to do that. Some guys never come out, and twenty-two isn't especially old to do it anyway. Plus, a lot of parents know before you tell them. I think mom and Tris knew I was gay.

That's all the talk there is about fags or haircuts though, and that's because there are two baseball players in this truck. Baseball is what they talk about for the next forty-five minutes. I lay my head back and look out the window smiling... mostly because I feel good. I've felt good for a long while now and it's like I've been taking that for granted, which I don't want to do! I need to appreciate my good fortune.

Not everything in my life is perfect of course. For example, I don't see enough of Chubby, or the moms either, but mostly I wish Chubby and I could be together more. When we have gotten together though, just the two of us, it's like old times. It's like it's always been between us and that's a blessing. It's not like that for me with anyone else. Even with Willie who I spent so much time with and shared so many youthful adventures with, both good and bad. The rare times I see him now we're a little awkward at first. Well, I am. Willie's never awkward and if I ever see Ryan again, I know it'll be very awkward. With Chubby though it's like we've always been with each other. Whenever it's just Chubby and me doing something together, it's like forever...

I just heard my name and realize my eyes were closed and maybe I dozed off. Sitting up I go, "What?" and see Robby's turning onto Route 9 as he says, "If you agree, I told Danny he can come to my house and hang out a while, you can do his haircut in the pool house and then we'll give him a ride home, or he can walk from my house... whatever." I shrug, "Yeah, okay," but I'm kinda disappointed because I like when Rob and I come home and Mrs. D. gives us the big 'hero's' welcome with compliments about how great we look. It's not as grand a welcome as my mom's greeting, but she's at work, as usual. Today though, Danny will dilute the welcome-home situation somewhat.

Robby pulls into the driveway and drives to the end, stopping at the entrance to the pool house next to the back gate like he always does. Danny bounds out of the truck, saying, "I haven't seen your mom since last summer, Rob," and he goes through the gate and right in the back door without knocking. Well, yeah, Danny was a favorite of Mrs. Dickers. I always thought that, but for the last five months I was thinking I became her favorite friend of Rob's. But more than a 'friend' of Rob's certainly...

Chuckling and shaking his head, Robby goes, "I haven't seen much of Danny lately so I sorta forgot he's like a big exuberant puppy dog, and kinda amusing too. What a fun character, huh?" I shrug as I start unhooking the tonneau cover, muttering, "Danny won't be able to walk home with all this shit he brought with him." Rob grabs his satchel, saying, "So, we'll give him a ride. It's only like eight blocks." I grab my stuff as Rob reminisces, "Yeah, Danny and I used to ride our bikes to each others house every fucking summer day." Oh great, a trip down the Danny/Robby memory lane!

I've got no response to that as we walk through the gate and then go in the back door hearing Mrs. D. excitedly saying, "You remember that meatloaf dinner you had here? When was that, two years ago, Danny?" He says, "At least two years, and I remember telling mom you make the best meatloaf I've ever had," and as we walk in she says, "Hi boys," and then to Danny, "You know what, Danny. I remember your mother asking me for the recipe one Saturday we ran into each other at Stop & Shop." He goes, "See! I told her about it!" Oh, brother!

Mrs. D. comes over and gives, first Rob, and then me a quick hug, saying to me, "Daniel tells me you're giving him a haircut and I was relieved to hear it." She pats Danny shoulder then and adds with a chuckle, "I never liked boys with long hair even when I was your age, although Danny's hair has a curl to it and looks almost okay. Don't you think?" I go, "I guess."

Robby's not paying any attention to that. He's looking in the refrigerator, asking, "You guys want a beer?" We do, and he gets three cans of Bud out and we all snap the tabs as Mrs. D. tells Robby about Danny remembering her meatloaf dinner from two years ago. Robby goes, "For Christ sakes, mom, Dylan and I were right 'effing here when you had that conversation." She goes, "Oh, and your hair looks very nice, Robert." She doesn't say anything about my hair though. After missing the regular two-week haircut it'll be a month come this Sunday and my hair is looking sloppy by now. Maybe I'll take this opportunity to switch from this flattop Danny's been giving me. My hair is long enough now that I could ... nah. Fuck it, I'm growing kind of fond of this flattop.

Danny smiles at me, then glances at Rob and his mom and, as if reading my mind he mouths silently to me, 'That would be a great looking haircut, baby, but....'" and he points at my head giving me a look like... I told you so. I give him an irritated expression and then say to no one in particular, "I'm taking my stuff to the bedroom." As I go upstairs I hear Mrs. D. invite Danny to stay for dinner but he politely declines. His mom is expecting him. That's good, but overall this has been a very disappointing homecoming.

Halfway up the steps, I smile to myself, thinking... you childish asshole! Yeah, but it felt good being a spoiled childish brat for a few minutes there before coming to my senses. Heh heh, a childish pout always makes me feel good... only for a minute though. I'm thinking that at age twenty-two that just might be too old for a good old-fashioned pout. Seriously though, the thing I'm pissed off about, in addition to this bogus homecoming, is I had this grand idea about giving Danny his haircut and how afterward we'd do one of our two hours in-bed sex-a-thons. That's unlikely to happen here. Very unlikely I'd say... haha! Emptying my satchel, I put the barber toiletry kit on the bed so I won't forget to bring it downstairs with me.

Putting my clothes in either the bureau or closet on hangers, I change into comfortable old jeans and a pullover with plain old sneakers on my feet. I'll save these nice clothes for a more appropriate occasion, like tomorrow. My beer was left on the kitchen counter so when I go back into the kitchen I pick up the can of beer and ask Mrs. D., "Where'd the guys go?" She says, "Oh, you changed clothes, Dylan. You looked so nice before, dear! Um, the boys are in the pool house so they can smoke probably." I go, "A nasty habit. I'll go tell them of the dangers involved." Smiling, she laughs, "Yes, you do that, honey."

Ha! That was pretty nice. In the pool house, the guys are shooting darts and, yes, smoking. As I'm putting the toiletry kit of barber things on the bar, Robby says, "Hey, you changed clothes!" I nod, "Well, yeah. I don't want to get Danny's hair all over my nice duds." And then guess what Danny asks me... he goes, "What kind of haircut should I get, Dylan?" and then he tosses the dart in the bulls-eye, yelling, "Bulls-eye!"

I tell him that he's a barber now so why doesn't he 'effing decide what haircut he wants on his own. We all start talking about other things and before I know it we've had three beers each and now it's almost four o'clock and we're getting hungry. The thing is, dinner will be ready at six and we don't want to ruin our appetite completely. Robby goes, "I need something to eat before dinner." I suggest his mom's onion dip with potato chips. Rob goes inside to see about that and Danny asks again, "What kind of haircut should I get?" I shrug, saying, "For Christ's sake, didn't you give that a thought before this? Did you think about it at all?" He goes, "No, not really. Ya know what, fuck it. I don't know if you can do it or not, but I'd like a haircut like I've been giving Rob all semester." I go, "What the hell do you mean... if I can do it? Of course, I can do it! No problem. Um, what time is your mom expecting you? Maybe we should start now..." and he's like, "Holy shit! Mom and I were supposed to go out to a late lunch together!" and he takes his cell phone out as I'm mumbling, 'You're terrible, Danny!" His poor mom.

He doesn't turn his back when talking on the phone like most people. I guess Danny doesn't care if people hear him, or if he annoys people by having a private conversation in their face! He goes, "Hi mom! I'm late, sorry, and... huh?" He listens and says, "I'm at Rob Dickers' house. He drove me... huh?" Listening again, he goes, "Oh, sure. That's a cool deal! What time?" I'll be there. Thanks, mommy." Mommy? He grins at me, "Mom understands that sometimes shit happens." Meaning, I suppose, she knows what an airhead her son can be at times. He smiles, "Get this, baby. Instead of lunch, her and big Stan, her boyfriend, are taking me out to dinner tonight at Ken's Steakhouse. I love me some Ken's steak!" I go, "I guess your mom knows you pretty well by now. That's cool. I'm glad she wasn't upset."

Robby comes back with a bag of pretzels, muttering, "We don't have potato chips so what good is onion dip without potato chips. All mom had is this bag of pretzels," and he rips the bag open. We all get our hands in the bag grabbing pretzels as Danny says, "We're gonna be twins, Rob. I'm getting the same haircut I've been doing for you." With a mouthful of pretzels, Robby flings a dart at the dart board, saying a mumbled, "Whoopdedoo. Hey," and now he looks excited saying to me, "Let me do Danny's haircut, babe. The last haircut he had was from me. Wasn't it, Danny?" he shrugs, "I forget," and I'm like, "Is that okay with you, Danny?" He goes, "Sure. Rob was the barber before me. Let's do it, Rob." Oh, fuck! Just like that! Can I believe this shit?

Robby goes, "It's kinda fun being the barber, huh guys?" I shrug and Danny goes, '"Yeah, it is actually. It's cool, Rob!" Danny pulls the stool over, the one we used for haircuts when Robby was the barber, and then looks at Rob, asking, "Um, do you have a barber cape, Rob?" and then answers his own questions, "No, you don't. It's at my barber shop in the garage, but we can't go there or my mom will see my girlie hairdo. Dammit!" Robby goes, "Just take your fucking shirt off," and he looks at me, "Right, Dylan. That's how you did haircuts for years. No cape, just take your shirt off." I go, "Yep. And then I did get a barber's cape! Remember? I gave it to you and you gave it to him." Danny, missing the irony, goes, "Yeah, and I was using it too. The weekend you guys were working back here. One of those weekends anyway, I got a ride home with Dixon and without planning to, I ended up doing three haircuts. Terrence, you know him, my next door buddy, him and his brother, and a friend of his brother's. They all wanted haircuts... for free of course. It was so fucking cool! The garage was like a barbershop. Oh fuck, I'll need my barber cape this summer too." His barber cape?

Rob goes, "Take your fucking shirt off and save tales of your barbershop for someone who gives a shit." Danny laughs out loud, and then mutters, "Same old prick, huh Rob?" Robby smirks at him and runs a comb through Danny's long hair. Danny pushes Rob's hand away and then takes his shirt off. Jeez, he has a hot looking chest!

He sits on the stool, saying, "My old friend, Rob, is my barber again. Hey, how many haircuts did you give me last summer, Rob?" Robby looks around and asks, "Where's the clippers and all that other shit, Dylan?" I point at the toiletry kit on the bar and Rob mumbles, "Thanks, babe," and then to Danny, "I think it was only twice, Danny. Two haircuts and then you became the barber." He starts taking the things out of the toiletry kit and lining them up like he used to do it, asking Danny, "What guide do you use for the sides and back, you know, for my haircut?" Danny goes, "The purple one."

They don't even know the numbers for the fucking guides! The purple one... Jesus! That's a number 'two' guide. Those guys are like the fucking blind leading the blind. Haha, that thought made me snort out a laugh. Not because of that though. Because I'm pouting like a baby again. Whaaa, I can't get my own way. Ya big baby!

Robby grins, asking "What so funny, Dylan?" Shaking my head, I go, "Nothing. Something I just remembered... it's nothing," and I start to leave 'cause I need to take a piss, but Rob goes, "Hey, don't go anywhere, Dylan. You're sticking close by I hope! You'll probably need to bail me out when I screw this up." Danny stands up and goes, "Hey, uh uh, no! I've decided I want Dylan to do this! I changed my mind `cause you only know that terrible haircut like Golden used to give." Robby goes, "That's not true but, aah... fuck it. Heh heh, I don't want to do it anyway. You do it, Dylan." I go, "Oh for Christsakes! You two should try out your act on Broadway or something. Okay though, what the fuck," and I can't stop myself from again snorting out another laugh... at myself. Both of them are grinning, asking, "What's so funny? Why do you keep laughing?" Shaking my head, I go, "Nothing, jeesuzzz...!"

Danny sits down again and says, "Study how I did Rob's haircut, Dylan. If you have any questions how I did it, ya know, just ask." I go, "Oh, okay, duh. I've only been giving haircuts since I was eleven-fucking-years-old." Yeah, but I still can't do some of the haircut styles I've seen Danny do, not as good as him anyway. But why be all modest about it? I'm not admitting that to Danny.

Plugging in the clipper, I break his balls a little, asking, "Are you sure you don't want a flattop haircut, Danny?" He mutters, "Yeah, I'm sure," then he's quick to add, "It'd look like shit on me compared to how great that haircut looks on you." I go, "Uh huh. Well, for your information I finally agree that I like it." He shrugs, "I knew you would. Hey, how much money do you think we've saved being our own barber?" I sarcastically mutter, "At least forty bucks." He mutters, "Is that all?" I don't add that Chubby and I saved almost that much each month... for like eleven years.

Robby's looking through an old Sports Illustrated magazine when his phone rings. Ya know, I never can get over how blasé these guys, hell, most guys are about haircuts. They'll fuck around joking about it for two minutes and then that's it' That's all the interest they have in it. For instance, Rob only cared about doing Danny's haircut for like two minutes, and Danny didn't initially care that Rob was going to do it either... no matter Rob isn't any good at it. Danny only remembered Rob's a sucky barber when Robby started talking about screwing it up. Now Danny's totally blasé about it again, and Rob's forgotten about it completely talking on the phone to somebody.

I say, "Okay, final answer, Danny! Time is up... is it to be the haircut like Rob's?" He goes, "Wait! I might change my mind." Oh, that's right, I forgot about the way they all break balls deciding what haircut to get and THEN they don't care about it. First, they gotta break my balls with the... 'what should I get? horseshit'. Danny finally goes, "What other haircut do you think would be cool, Dylan?" Remaining calm, I recite a number of haircuts, describing them and after much thought, he chooses the haircut like he's been giving Robby. The same one he decided on fifteen minutes ago.

And, okay, I admit I have a LOT of fun cutting Danny's very long wavy hair down to a short preppy haircut... like the one Danny cuts for Robby. All the long hair I cut from his head gives me a wicked hard boner and makes up a lot for missing out on doing a haircut for him all these months. I've gotten used to seeing him with long hair, so now it looks wicked short. Just when I start to think he was the exception and looked cool with an 'eighties' hairstyle, he decided to get it cut.

He's looking at himself in the hand-held mirror, saying, "Is Rob's haircut this short, baby?" I give him a 'look' like... are you serious? He goes, "Oh, of course, it is..." Robby is watching ESPN on the TV. He must have heard Danny say 'baby' because he looked over at us. Danny's oblivious but I say to Rob, "He's kidding around imitating you, Robert." Robby looks blank, mumbling, "What?" Huh, pretending he didn't hear that.

Then he says, "Dylan, I just saw a commercial on TV for a Ram Big Horn pickup. It's called a crew cab and it has what amounts to a bench seat in front without a gear shift in the middle. Like our old pickup except this is a new one, new this year." I go, "I didn't think they made trucks with anything but buckets seats nowadays." Rob goes, "That thing is way too big though." He goes back to watching TV and I take the mirror from Danny, muttering, "Just a second, Danny," and I recomb his pompadour for no other reason than I felt like it. Then I comb the hair down below the part... again unnecessarily, but I liked fussing with his hair. Finally, I go, "There ya go, preppy. Just like Rob's."

Danny gets up and as I'm brushing random hairs off his shoulders, he goes, "Holy fuck, look at all my hair on the floor!" He helps sweep up the hair but even before we're done doing that, he's off on another subject asking what we're doing Friday. See, getting their hair cut is just a routine necessity to these two guys. For me though, giving Danny that haircut was probably the best time I'll have this entire Thanksgiving break. Doing that haircut was awesome! And the other thing is, I get this really affectionate feeling for most guys after giving them a haircut. I don't know why, but I do. Probably another aspect of my fetish... the one I have no control over whatsoever. Anyway, I'm rubbing Danny wide shoulders, his bare shoulders as Rob's saying something about organizing a two-hand touch football game Friday. That's if we don't need to work. We'll find that out tonight when his dad comes home.

Rob's mom comes out the back door and calls Rob. He goes inside as I ask Danny, "So, how'd I do with your haircut?" He gets his hands on either side of my face, murmuring, "I loved that you gave me this haircut, baby," and he does one of his special kisses. Jesus, my boner had only recently gone down and now it's roaring again as my hand rubs the short hairs on the back of Danny's head. I swear to God I would have cum in my pants if Danny didn't make this a fast special kiss. He does a quick lick across my lips after the kiss and, chuckling, he says, "I don't want Rob catching us doing this. Showing him how much we mean to each other. Doing that in his face would be wrong." I go, "Yep, but he ain't here and, anyway, you're overstating the facts of the matter."

Danny lets go of my face, saying authoritatively, "Baby, don't give me that shit! We still need to tell him about us." I'm short of breath from that kiss which registered even stronger because I'd just finished his haircut, and then there's my throbbing boner complicating matters so all I can manage is a mutter, "Okay, Danny, but you said after the first of the year." He rubs my head, saying, "Yeah, for you, baby! That's why I agreed to that... for you. Okay, so we'll wait." Good! I'll deal with that matter later.

We hear the back door slam and Danny goes, "Here comes Rob," and he gives me the smile that makes me smile back at him, giving off all the wrong signals but I couldn't help myself. Robby comes in, saying, "Unfortunately I've gotta go pick up dad at work. His car was in the shop for service and the assholes didn't finish it. Um, I'll take mom's car to get dad and Dylan, if you don't mind, would you give Danny a ride home in the pickup." I nod, and Robby says, "Hey, nice haircut! Looking good, Danny." Danny touches his hair, muttering, "It seems shorter than yours, Rob." Robby goes, "Ha, Dylan did a much better haircut for you than the one I've got." Danny looks like he can't fucking believe he just heard Rob say that, sputtering, "Are you out of your fucking mind? Look at the..." and he sees Robby and me covering our mouths snickering. He goes, "I knew you dipshits were just breaking my balls... nice try."

Rob goes, "Well, enough frivolity, I gotta go. See you in a little while, Dylan, and maybe we'll see you Friday, Danny. We'll text you about Friday and if you need a ride back to Merrimack on Sunday just text one of us." The pool house door slams. Yeah, Robby's a door slammer and a loud stomper going up and down stairs. It's silent in here as Danny and I look at each other, like... really?

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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