DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter. 33
by Donny Mumford
Rob leaves the pool house slamming the door behind him. He just found out he needs to pick up his dad at work, which he didn't expect and isn't thrilled about, so maybe that added a little extra 'oomph' to his door slam. I didn't expect it either, obviously, but mostly I'm slightly geeked-up from my fetish after giving Danny his short haircut and then, just like that we're alone in here, Danny and me... really?
Danny, genetically speaking, is missing the hesitation gene so the second the door slams he grabs my hand and pulls me away from the window, saying, "Well duh, we're not passing up this opportunity." At the bar, he looks around and then goes, "We'll get behind the bar, Dylan."
I'm hesitating so he grips my bicep pulling me behind the bar grinning mischievously, saying, "I'd love it if you'd do some oral sex on me? Hee hee, you haven't done that for me lately." I'm looking at him like he's out of his mind, but he misinterprets my expression, saying, "Hey, be fair... I've done it for you, right?" To Danny, it's a foregone conclusion that in this situation we'll have sex. In his mind, it's merely the particulars that need sorting out.
Damn though, he looks even sexier with short hair. I've been told I look younger with my flattop haircut and Danny looks even younger than normal with his new shorter haircut as well. Anyway, I'd normally be caught up in Danny's contagious enthusiasm for sex but at the moment I have serious reservations about doing anything in here. I'm like, "Well, no... we can't do anything in here. Jeezus, Danny, we're in the Dickers' pool house!" He looks at me like I'm from outer space so I gesture in the direction of the house, saying more emphatically, "Mrs. Dickers is in the kitchen not twenty feet away!" He shrugs and I'm like, "There's that window in front of her that looks right out here... helloooo!" He shrugs again so I add, less emphatically, "She could, um, I don't know, see us or maybe come out here to ask if we need something."
Ignoring all that as if I never even said it, Danny pulls over a short stool. It's the stool we stand on when getting something from the high shelving behind the bar. Nodding at the stool, he says, "You can sit on that, although... hmm, come to think of it I'd much prefer if you'd get on your knees to blow me. Well, not just you, Dylan, everyone should do that 'cause that's traditionally the way it's done, ya know?" I probably have another weird expression on my face, and why wouldn't I? Danny, of course, again misinterprets my expression, saying, "Okay, use the fucking stool... that's fine too," and then he grins cutely and in an almost innocent manner goes, "The two of us being alone in here is so, um, fortuitous, huh Dylan?"
Momentarily wanting to agree with him, but quickly coming to my senses, I'm like, "No, it's not! What'd I just fucking say? Mrs. Dickers could pop in on us any second! I mean, she's right there..." waving my hand at the house again. He goes, "Oh, screw that! She hasn't been in the pool house since we were in high school," and he pulls down his sweatpants and then looks at the window, muttering, "Nobody could see us even if they looked out that fucking window, which no one will... probably."
I'm now sitting on the stool without even realizing I sat down. Danny rubs my head, saying seriously, "You know baby, when you drop me off at the house you actually should come inside with me. I'll do the haircut for you that you missed two weeks ago. How come you missed that anyway? And, I can't wait for you to see my garage barbershop too! All I'll need to do is sweep the guys' hair up from when I gave Terrence and the boys' haircuts three or four weeks ago." Shaking my head, I mumble, 'What? Um, no, I'm not doing that..." He goes, "Why not?" and his fingers ruffle through my flattop again as he's muttering, "I hate to be 'that guy'... the 'I-told-you-so-guy', but I told you you'd look shaggy when you missed your last haircut appointment." Appointment? We don't have appointments for haircuts!
Without giving me a chance to respond, not that he'd pay attention anyway, he quickly continues with his sales pitch, "It'll be five weeks since your last haircut so c'mon! I mean, I'm sort of okay with a three-week interval, but five weeks? No way, baby." I'm staring at what I consider a nearly perfect penis. It's the one hanging there limply between Danny's legs. Looking up, I mutter, "Huh? No, it'll be four weeks, not five."
Complimenting Danny's dick though is sort of like bragging on my own because I have a lookalike penis to his. Danny mumbles, "Four weeks or five weeks, that's too damn long between the type of haircut you have. You know as well as I do that you need to stay on top of flattop haircuts. I hate to say this but dude, you're becoming a bad advertisement for my campus barbershop," and he flicks his fingers at my hair as if it distresses him to even look at it.
Danny's and my dicks look, I don't know, the way you'd hope a penis would look I suppose... kinda friendly, happy, and somehow they're, um, inviting-looking. It's like they're saying... let's play! Both penises are pinkish/white and very straight without that gross oversized purple vein at the back. Well, our dicks do have that vein, obviously, but it hardly shows and there are no unseemly hair growths or any other kind of disturbing things that one sees all the time as parts of guys' dicks. Ours aren't too big or too small and maybe the best part is the nicely shaped rosy-colored heads that are wider than the shaft but just the perfect amount... perfect for a good suck or fuck. And, seriously, both our dicks have that overall uber clean-look about them, and I mean even when they're not especially clean.
Christ, my dick begins to stiffen up as I lift Danny's and stretch it out. Flaccid like this his penis is almost exactly as long as mine, meaning six-inches. Danny's does get longer when he has an erection. Mine doesn't do a lot of that but both dicks have about the same circumference. Yep, just the right amount of heft and, as I said, the heads on our penises look like twin brothers.
As I continue pulling his penis, stretching it out, Danny goes, "Ooh, I like when you pull on my pecker like that." I glance up at him wondering for a brief second, how I ended up sitting here with Danny's pecker in my fingers? When I pull back the foreskin I'm not surprised to see it's clean under there 'cause Danny's a clean boy... usually. Here's a weird oddity though... I personally know five guys, four of them gay, who were never circumcised. I say it's an oddity because from my in-depth perusal of guys' peckers in the showers after high school gym classes I can't remember another ten boys at Framingham who weren't circumcised. Huh, that's gotta hurt like a motherfucker getting your foreskin cut off... ouch!! It's usually done to babies no less! Barbaric! But my point is, almost all American boys are circumcised and yet I know five who weren't. Danny goes, "Um, what are you doing, Dylan? My brain is clearing as I look up again, mumbling, "Oh, ha, um... I'm admiring your dick. He says, "For a minute there I thought you were in one of your trances or whatever they are."
I shake my head slowly, muttering, "No, it's like this Danny-boy, Rob leaving unexpectedly as he did, and then you getting us quickly set-up for oral sex and all... well, I need a minute to sort things out. Whether you know it or not, everyone isn't instantly and unhesitatingly into things like you are. I personally prefer giving things a few seconds of contemplation before jumping into the pool with both feet, so to speak. Ya know, I like to get my bearings first." He mumbles, "Jumping in a pool? Your bearings? Ya mean ball bearings? Seriously, baby, I don't even know what the fuck all that means?"
Whatever... the truth of the matter is I do like sucking a cute guy's dick, so... why not? Muttering, "Forget about it," I put the head of Danny's cock in my mouth and, wow, it feels so smooth on my tongue. I suck on it a little and then, with just the very tip of my tongue I push at his cock's piss slit and Danny goes, "Holy Christ! That felt weird but awesome! Um, it also made me feel like I need to take a piss." Sliding his cock out on my tongue, I look up at him, saying, "Go ahead and pee," and I put his cock back in my mouth and he goes, "Oh, sure! No, I'd never do that to you." Huh, I wonder who he would do it to? Bummer that no one I know wants to try a little urine play. The prudes!
Alright, the hell with that. I try imitating the way Rob sucked my dick last night but, huh... Rob's tongue must be longer than mine 'cause I can't duplicate some of the maneuvers it felt like he was doing. Still, I'm pretty good at this in my own right so I push a couple of inches of shaft inside my mouth to join the head and while stroking the three inches of stiffening cock outside my mouth I work up lots of warm saliva. Then, mostly using my tongue, I concentrate on getting the warm spit circulating round and round the smooth super-sensitive head of his cock while, at the same time, I'm sucking the hardening shaft. This activity quickly gets Danny's attention and his feet shuffle spastically a little as he rubs my head and groans, "Ahh, ahh, oooh, fuck, ummm, whooooa." His cock gets harder and harder of course, and it gets a little longer too... so I was right about that.
It might sound crazy but his dick tastes good and I'm really getting into sucking on that thing until Danny's hips get in the act by humping slightly, moving his boner on my tongue forward and back, in and back. That's cool, so I let him go at it and shortly both his hands slide off my hair to hold onto the sides of my head. He does longer and longer thrusts, the engine being his steadily moving hips. Why he needs to hold my head so tightly I couldn't tell you... I'm not exactly trying to get away.
Now I begin hearing more pronounced gasping and moaning from Danny. Well, I guess so... his cock has become a super full-blown boner. It's like a wooden dowel covered in tightly stretched skin. Hee hee, penises are so freakin' sensitive! As Danny continues moving it back and forth on my tongue I slurp, slurp, slurp on his wooden boner teasing him a little until he yanks my head forward forcing the head of his boner right past the gag reflex area at the back of my mouth and then down my throat it goes... gulp!
The swollen head goes down my throat maybe two inches. It's impossible not to gag and sense a quick spark of panic but I've had experience with this sort of thing and know to relax my throat muscles... quite a trick and it's probably one you shouldn't try at home. Danny slowly pulls my entire head forward which pushing the last inch or two of his cock into my throat with the head swelling and totally enlarging my esophagus. Not surprisingly, I experience another brief surge of panic that needs to be controlled. My nose is pressed tightly against his belly which means breathing becomes a major concern now too which is one of the reasons for the latest second or two of panic. Still, the last thing I want to do is begin struggling because Danny's reflex action would be to hold my face tighter against his crotch. That's not what I'm looking for...
He moves his hips slightly, humping his crotch against my face which moves his cock a little bit in my throat too. My arms go around his legs and obviously, he's completely in charge of everything from now on. After what seems to be an inordinate amount of time, Danny finally moves his hips back pulling his long hard boner out of my throat with me still hugging tightly around his legs and feeling properly dominated. His moans of sexual pleasure excite me as he humps his hips forward again pushing his boner back down my throat followed by a few humps against my face with almost all of his hard cock in my throat and my face squished against his groin area with his pubic hairs surrounding my nose, mouth, and chin. My cock has become an iron pipe in my pants due to the super submissive situation I'm in. It's awesome!
With a quiet moan, Danny's again lazily moving his hips which moves his boner in my mouth and throat. I lose count of how many times he does that before withdrawing his now slimy boner. The swollen head lies heavily on my tongue as Danny takes a deep breath or two before beginning another steady thrusting, each thrust pushing his boner down my throat a little faster. After half a dozen thrusts, Danny pulls his hips back and the head of his boner pops out of my throat but this time it's lying at my gag reflex area so I try moving my head, but I can't so I gag a little. Danny doesn't appear to notice my gagging as he's taking another deep breath, his body shuddering as he's gasping in air and then without warning his cock goes quickly down my throat again which is actually a relief. It may sound like I'm suffering but the opposite is true. I'm aroused beyond belief.
Danny pulls it out slowly this time, obviously loving how it feels coming out of my throat inch by inch and now I moan in sexual arousal but it comes out as a gurgling sound instead of a moan. I'm feeling as submissive as I've ever felt in my life and my cock throbs in all its hardness inside my pants.
Another thrust down my throat but Danny's probably worried about climaxing because he pulls his boner right back out and leaves the swollen head lying heavily on my tongue again and it's now drooling pre-cum. He leaves his boner on my tongue as he breathes deeply and I take the opportunity to gasp oxygen into my lungs too. Danny's body was very stiff for a minute there, but as soon as he's relaxed again his boner goes down my throat and it went down easier with the pre-cum acting as a lubricant. There's sweat forming between the palms of his hands and the sides of my head that feels slippery but Danny's quite strong so there's nothing to be done about that.
There aren't a lot of sexual activities more dominant than deep throating your partner, and with my propensity to become submissive during sexual activities anyway, I've automatically become docilely submissive to a degree that very well could be a world's record submissiveness. That makes it easier for Danny to move his cock back and forth in my throat and, without any hesitation, he's taking full advantage of that. I don't blame him either because I know from my own rare deep throating experiences as a 'top' that this sort of thing is quite a pleasurable experience as it creates a tsunami of fantastic sensations on a guy's boner.
Hell, I get a boner from simply blowing a cute guy and this is way past simply blowing Danny and, consequently, my cock has been a solid rock almost from the start. Unfortunately, I'm on the verge of shooting a load of cum in my pants. Yeah, I'm about to have a massive climax in my jockey shorts. Why I didn't free my cock from the confines of my shorts before starting this, I have no idea! Dumb!
And I'm guessing here, but from his now robotic way of fucking my throat Danny's brain has probably been hijacked by the needs of his own impending climax. Looking up at him, my eyeballs way up in their sockets and, yep, I see Danny's head is back, his eyes closed, his tongue licking his lower lip and he's moaning as if nothing has ever felt this good in his life... ever. His hips have picked up a good rhythm again sliding his boner back and forth in my throat with, as I said, my docile body language an accommodating factor in this whole process.
Ya know, this is reminiscent of the way those idiots on Coney Island eat hot dogs during those moronic hot dog eating contests. The hot dogs go down their throats whole. This is a bigger hot dog for sure, although it's the same principle. In my case, as I said, the situation is aided by Danny's smeared pre-cum that's coating my throat and therefore lubricating the way for his swollen-headed hot dog of a boner to travel rather smoothly down and up in my throat while I'm being a good boy by covering my bottom teeth with my lip, which is slightly cut by now, but no problem...
Danny's bicep muscles are taut from holding my head in his steel-like grip as the smooth steady thrusting of his hips has become somewhat scary although at the same time it's a monstrously huge turn-on for me too. And, Omigod, my climax is building to the expected enthralling tipping point... the eruption mere seconds from exploding. My boner has been sticking straight out but trapped in my pants it's poking them out like a tent pole. And then, my hips hump and I gag trying to squeal as my climax ignites, then fires a hard stream of cum that exits my cock at the speed of light but there's no place for it to go. Cum forcefully squeezes out all around the head of my hard cock and then drools back on my boner to clear the way for another stream that roars out the quivering pee slit of my hard cock feeling so good I drift off to unimaginable pleasure zones and float there above us all and then, from another dimension, I hear a high-pitched sound coming from Danny that brings me back to earth as a lot of creamy fluid gushes down my throat and then another drowning rush of cum follow as I fight off a hiccup.
Danny gasps, his hips pulling back and his cock popping out of my throat as a squirt of cum hits that thing hanging in the back of my mouth, the uvula, and I gulp in all the air I can which somehow sucks Danny's cum into my sinuses and then it's a struggle to clean the clog. I'm frantically inhaling and exhaling until cum sprays out my nose. Danny jumps back yanking the rest of his boner out of my mouth. He grabs his still hard penis and begins stroking himself, asking excitedly, "What the fuck was that, Dylan? Are you okay?" My eyes are watering, streams of tears running down my cheeks as I'm looking down seeing cum already soaking through my old faded jeans at the crotch. Yeah, but what a fantastic, out of this world orgasm! Holy fuck!
Looking up, I see cum hanging off the end of Danny's still hard cock with his fist traveling up the shaft and over the head and now the cum is gone. Huh, strange time for Danny to do a pathetic magic trick. Obviously, I'm not thinking straight, the cum is on the palm of his hand.
I stand up abruptly hitting my head on the overhang of the bar and stumble back against the wall holding my head while still blowing through my nose getting more of Danny's cum spraying out. He asks again, "You okay, baby?" I wave a hand at him as I'm getting my handkerchief from my back pocket and blowing my nose in it. Danny says, "Um if you're okay, I still have a damn good boner here. You sucked my dick into a metal pipe, so maybe if you'll get on your hand and knees..." I wave my hand at him again and step further away, blowing my nose again. Ahhh, I'm breathing okay through my nose now. I go, "Put that fucking pipe in your pants! If you've ever blown cum out your nose you'll understand there's a recovery period required. Jesus, what an orgasm though!"
Danny lets go of his dick and comes over to me looking concerned and murmuring, "I'm sorry, Dylan. Um, how'd you get cum in your nose?" I mumble, "By accident. I hiccupped or, I don't know exactly. But my real problem is this," and I point at the cum soaking through my jeans. Danny laughs out loud, and goes, "Oh, fuck. You mean you shot off when I was fucking your throat? I never heard of anyone doing that before." I shrug, muttering, "Yeah, well that was some pretty sexy deep throating. Um, but not the kind of thing I want to do too often, ya know?" He pats my shoulder, saying, "We've done it before... once or twice," and I go, "Not like that we haven't. Can you fixate on my problem though! How am I gonna sneak past Mrs. D. to get upstairs so I can change my underpants and Levis?"
Danny does a pathetically-executed fake cough in a futile attempt at covering up the fact he's still laughing at my predicament, then he points at my crotch trying to look serious while saying, "That wet spot is spreading, Dylan." I'm looking around thinking maybe there's something here I can carry in front of me when I go inside and up to the bedroom. Danny says, "Hell, I can go in first and distract Rob's mom and then you come in behind me and scoot upstairs." My untucked shirt hangs down just to where the wet spot begins, dammit!
I ask, "Do you think you can get her looking away for five seconds?" He nods his head, "Sure, no problem." We leave the pool house and walk to the back door as I feel cum from around my balls begin drooling down the inside of my legs. Yeah, it was a big load! I wait until Danny goes inside and then three seconds later I walk in and see Danny with the refrigerator door open, asking me, "Do you think it'd be okay if we grab another beer?" I mutter, "Um, I don't know..." Huh, Mrs. Dickers isn't even in the kitchen! Yeah, but I know I'm going to run into her on my way to the stairs... but I don't.
I skip quickly upstairs and get in the bedroom and then look for a pair of skinny jeans as faded as the ones I have on now. Going through the bureau drawers I see a pair of Rob's that kinda looks like what I'm wearing. Mrs. D. notices things like that. What the hell, I'll use a pair of Rob's jockey briefs too. After wiping the cum area with a handful of tissues, I put on the dry clothes and then see Rob's key thing on the desk so I pick that up and on my way out of the bedroom I bump into Danny coming in, and I'm like, "Jesus Christ! You almost gave me a heart attack." He goes, "Huh?" and I mutter, "I thought you were Mrs.... well, never mind. C'mon, I'll drive you home." He's drinking from a can of beer as we go downstairs and out the back door without ever seeing Rob's mom. I have no idea where she was. Maybe taking a shower... that's a good guess, not that it matters.
In the pickup, Danny burps and says, "So, I'll do your haircut and then together, with both of us looking super clean-cut and preppy, we'll tell my mom I'm gay. Okay, Dylan?" I'm speechless for a few seconds and then sputter out, sarcastically, "Oh, good idea, genius! We both tell your mom you're gay? That's your latest insane idea, huh?" He looks startled, "Well yeah, don't you think it's a good idea? It's not an insane idea, I know that much..."
Taking an exasperated deep breath, I go, "As I've said before, you need to have a personal and private conversation, you two... you and your mom! She'd be so, um, disappointed that you dragged me with you. It will make what you're going to tell her even more awkward. For her, I mean. She'd want to have that time with you alone. It's so, um, personal... like I said."
Danny once told me his mother likes me or some such shit, but the thing is I can't ever remember meeting her. She's probably seen me sometime or other at various high school functions and she may have heard my name from someone like Mrs. Dickers, or Danny for that matter, but I've never met Mrs. Monday... not that I remember anyway.
Danny chugs some beer and goes, "Nah, she'd expect my boyfriend to be with me. That's an important part of it, ya know?" Omigod! I go, "First things first... no haircut because what would your mom think if you came home and went right in the fucking garage giving me a haircut without even saying hello to her. And secondly, we're not boyfriends!" Ignoring the boyfriend part of what I said, he goes, "You're right. I'll go in and say hello first... then the haircut and after that, we'll break the news to her about me being queer" Ignoring his choice of words, I mutter, "Let me be more direct... no fucking haircut, period! And never mind the rest 'cause that's so illogical I can't even think what to say about it. I'll drop you off and that's all. Except, hopefully, I'll see you on Friday for a touch football game." He seems to agree so I quickly add, "And, Danny, I hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving!" He says in a very sincere manner, "Hey, thank you very much, Dylan... you too, baby. That was so nice of you." Omigod, he ignored the important part of what I just said!
Pulling up to his modest ranch-style house, I put the truck in neutral and then glance at the homes further down the street. Down there is Hayden's neighborhood. Huh, I wish he was coming home for Thanksgiving 'cause I kinda miss him, as crazy as that sounds even to me. Danny's neighborhood consists of three or four streets of basically the same houses, all probably built in the nineties. Then two blocks away there's Hayden's neighborhood consisting of older homes, but larger ones, none looking especially alike. Then there's Rob's neighborhood eight blocks back that consist of newer sort of McMansion-type homes with half acre lots. The richer middle-class folks live there.
The pickup is idling at the curb near his house as Danny stares at me and I'm like, "What now?" and he asks, "Aren't you gonna pull into the driveway?" Good idea since he does have a lot of stuff to take in the house. I drive up his driveway, saying, "Doesn't your mom mind washing all the clothes and towels and whatever else you brought home with you?" He shrugs, "She said she doesn't. I'm an only child, ya know."
Idling in the driveway now he looks at me and again I go, "What?" Danny makes a 'face', a hurt expression, asking "Aren't ya gonna help me?" Shrugging, I nod and get out as Danny goes, "Shall we tell my mom about me being gay now? Ya know after we take all my shit inside. Get the awkward part out of the way..." I look at him flabbergasted, sputtering, "Wha... didn't you, are you shitting me? Didn't you hear what I said two minutes ago?" He shakes his head, "Um, I don't know. Ya mean about having a wonderful Thanksgiving?" I'm looking at him and trying not to scream, but I'm so frustrated I don't know what to say. He looks sincerely concerned, asking, "What's wrong, Dylan? Are you okay, buddy?"
Standing next to the truck, I say patiently, "Yes, I'm fine. Listen to me, please! We're not telling your mom about your sexuality... not together we're not. As I've been trying to tell you, you need a private conversation, you and your mom. This is too important a topic to have a basic stranger, a stranger to your mom I mean, be a part of it. Too important not only to you but to your mom as well." He takes an exasperated deep breath and says, "Well, fuck it then! Are you going to help me carry in my clothes and shit, or not?" I go, "Sure, I'll help you."
As we're getting the tonneau cover off the truck bed I'm determined not to say anything else about anything. Just carry his stuff inside the front door and then leave... and the hell with it. He can tell his mom he's gay... or not. I know I'm right about Danny and his mom needing privacy to discuss something as important as Danny's sexual orientation. That's so fucking obvious I can't believe he doesn't understand that, but I'm done talking about it with him.
We get approximately the same stuff in our arms that we had when we carried everything from his dorm to the pickup back at Merrimack. He gives me a 'look' that could mean anything and I nod my head at his house to get him moving and then follow him in through the front door. We're barely in the house when Mrs. Monday comes quickly to Danny from somewhere, saying excitedly, "Danny, you're home!" He drops all the shit he's carrying and they do a really significant hug and then a quick kiss on the lips. She steps back, saying, "You look so good, Danny!" and they hug again. Yeah well, that's sweet.
She sees me now and smiles, saying, "Hello. You're Dylan, right?" I hold out my hand and we shake hands for half a second as I mumble, "Yes, ma'am, nice to meet you." She says, "Well aren't you polite, but we've met before although there's no reason for you to remember that. I wouldn't expect you to remember one of your friend's moms." I don't have anything to say to that, so I don't. She touches my shoulder tentatively, murmuring, "My-my though, aren't you, um, quite something to look at!" Danny says, "Dylan is Rob Dickers' boyfriend." Well, I am, but was that totally fucking necessary!
Mrs. Monday says, "Yes, I know, dear. Emily Dickers mentioned that a couple of years ago but I can't believe Dylan, um, he looks just like he did in high school and he's so good looking. Oh, I'm so sorry if I'm embarrassing you, Dylan." My face is approaching the temperature required for fire to ignite as Mrs. Monday adds, "And that cute haircut of yours!" By now most of my brain is occupied with concerns of the possibility that someone, maybe me, actually blushing to death.
Oblivious to my uncomfortableness, Danny says, "Well, Mom, I'm Dylan's barber, ya know," and his mom looks at him and rubs his shoulder, saying, "Yes, I know that honey, and by the way, Sue Hilton, Terrence's mom, was amazed at the professional haircuts you did for her boys!" Danny shrugs and mutters, "Yeah, I know. She told me." No way on earth for this to get any more awkward for me. I stand here trying to think of a way I can gracefully leave... coming up with nothing.
His mom all of a sudden goes into her mom's role even further and picks up Danny's heavy duffle bag that I dropped inside the front door, saying, "Let me help you boys with all this stuff. This is all going to the basement washing machine I assume." Danny takes it from her, mumbling, "That's too heavy for you, Mom! Here," and he hands her the loose clothes he had over his arm before dropping everything else to hug her during the sweet greeting between a mother and her son... aww.
Well, I can do this much at least. Picking up Danny's suitcase, I start to follow them but Danny says, "The suitcase goes into my bedroom, Dylan. Thanks, bro! I'll be right back up after dropping this stuff off in the basement." Still trying desperately to recover from Mrs. Monday's attention, I nod my head and go down the hall. I know where his bedroom is so while they take everything to the basement I carry his suitcase that feels as if he's transporting free weights in it to his bedroom at the very end of the hall.
Dropping the suitcase at the foot of his bed, I look around the room thinking about the sex we had in here during last summer's Fourth of July cookout. Then I think about making my escape. I could easily go out the front door while they're in the basement dealing with the washing machine. Jesus though, that would be wicked rude! Instead, I walk back out to the living room and wait right at the front door, my hand on the knob.
Huh, I'm thinking about Mrs. Monday. Actually, yeah, I did meet her once and it was last summer. I know Hayden's mom, and her goofy nickname 'Tinker'... and how I remembered that I have no fucking idea. Tinker Bell maybe. Yeah, but Mrs. Monday looks much younger than I remember, even younger than my mom and if I were a sexually-straight lad I'd probably think Danny's mom was hot. She's a pretty woman for sure. She has Danny's slimness too, but still with a nice set of boobs. Funny for me to think that...
Here they come up the basement steps now. Oh good, they're laughing about something and that's always good to hear. As long as they're not laughing at me, I mean... haha. His mom comes up first, saying to me, "Won't you stay for a beer with Danny and me, Dylan... please." There's that magic word that Danny uses so effectively... the 'please' word. That's an effective word mostly because I don't hear it very often. I've already had three beers this afternoon that I didn't actually want, plus I really want to get going. I open my mouth but before I can even decline the invitation, Mrs. Monday, adds, "Or something stronger perhaps." I try smiling while saying, "I'm not into whiskey all that much, and I really should be on my..." but she cuts me off, saying, "Then a beer it is," and she goes into the refrigerator. Jesus, the Mondays will simply not take 'no' for an answer!
Trying again, I say, "Um, that's not what I meant..." but Danny comes over to put his arm affectionately around the back of my waist for a hug. I give him a 'look' like he's gotta be out of his mind and step away. Danny misinterprets that and goes, "Oh, don't worry, I promise this will be my only beer, Dylan. I need to have a steady hand doing your flattop." I go, "Didn't I tell you like three times..." but I stop because, oh fuck, Mrs. Monday has already twisted the cap off three Coors beer bottles. Danny distracted me.
He hands me one of the bottles and taps my bottle with his, saying, "Thanks for helping me with my shit, Dylan." Haha, if we were home, Mrs. D. would have said, 'Language, Danny!' Mrs. Monday just grins at Danny. No big deal. Curiously, cursing is more accepted now than it was in earlier generations... they're just words after all. Still, I personally don't curse around adults. Legitimate adults I mean, not that bullshit about us being adults or eighteen-year-old guys and girls being adults. Legally we all are but get serious! Still, I don't judge and if Danny saying 'shit' is okay with Mrs. Monday, so what?
They talk a little about going out to dinner at Ken's Steakhouse tonight as I'm trying to chug-a-lug my beer so I can be on my way. And, I have less than zero intentions of getting a haircut. Oops, that was a stupid thought I just had! Me saying 'less than zero' is stupid. Zero is zero. It's like saying I gave 110% effort. There's nothing higher than 100%, or lower than zero. Hmmm, I'll probably need to include this in my book to help people stop saying stupid things. That will be the chapter's heading: Stop saying stupid things that annoy the shit out of people... or, annoy the shit out of me anyhow.
I heard my name and Mrs. Monday is looking at me like she's expecting a reply so I do an excellent fake cough that nobody would have a clue was fake, and then go, "Oh, excuse me. Some beer got in my windpipe. What was that you asked?" She says, "I'm hoping you'll join Danny and me at Ken's for dinner tonight. I'm sure, Stan, my boyfriend would enjoy meeting one of Danny's friends." Danny butts in saying angrily, "Mom, Jesus Christ, do you need to call that man your boyfriend? Dad ain't dead, ya know!" She says, "Your father is dead to me, sweetheart, and I know that's hard for you to hear but I purposely haven't told you what that bastard used to do... and I won't." Danny's pissed, "Oh yeah, like what did he do? You have a super suspicious mind, Mom... that's what Dad told me!"
Did I just say to myself a couple of minutes ago that there's no way this could get any more awkward' for me? I was wrong! Gulping my beer, I interrupt their fight by saying, "Thank you for inviting me but I'm expected for dinner at home tonight. Rob's mom is making her famous..." and Danny says, "It's not even five o'clock, Dylan, and the Dickers eat at six. C'mon, baby, I'm in a haircutting frame of mind and God knows you need one." Jeez, how'd he switched topics on a dime like that? After he and his mom were angry and yelling at each other a mere three seconds ago, now they both seem fine with one another. It's kinda like Rob's rudeness to his mom; his mom doesn't pay any attention to it... weird!
Mrs. Monday's cell phone rings and she picks it up off the kitchen counter smiling at Danny and me, saying, "Excuse me, boys," She's as pleasant as can be. There's no hangover from her argument with Danny. Before answering her phone, she adds, "Would you let me see your haircut, Dylan, when Danny's finished with it? It amazes me how he knows how to cut hair so well," I start to say I'm not getting a haircut but don't get the chance because she adds, "A lot of things are amazing about Danny. Don't you think?" and they grin at each other with Danny muttering, " So true, mom," and they both chuckle so I guess that was a rhetorical question, the one she just asked me. Plus, I probably am getting a haircut 'cause the Monday's can't comprehend what 'no' means.
She turns her back, saying, "Hello, you," and then she laughs at whatever was said to her by 'you'. Smiling like mad, she walks into the living room as Danny says, "Bring your beer, baby," and he starts walking toward the door leading to their attached garage. I look at my watch and see it's five minutes of five. Yeah, I've got the time and I do need a haircut. When we came home I remember Mrs. D. saying Robby looked so nice and, while she didn't say I didn't look nice, she didn't say I did either.
Plus, I'm working Saturday and Mr. D. cares about grooming so... yeah, as usual, Danny's kinda right about this. Getting this haircut is okay now that Danny's given up on me being with him when he tells his mom he's gay.
As I follow him to the attached garage I'm thinking of that super hot oral sex we had in the pool house. Omigod, that was nuclear hot! And then, when I'm in the garage I see Danny has a very cool area that he's cleaned out for his barbershop. I'm like, "Holy shit, Where'd you get the barber's chair?" It's not an old-fashioned one like you see in old-timey pictures, but it's definitely a barber's chair... it's an old, used, modern one. Was that an oxymoron?
Danny takes the barber cape off the back of the chair and motions for me to sit down, as he's telling me, "Yeah, Mom's, um, friend, got it for me online. Cool, huh?" I nod my head as I sit down, mumbling, "Fuck yeah, it's cool." He's really into this barbering hobby. Danny fluffs up the cape and drapes it over me, saying, "I just need to sweep up the boys' hair. Didn't have time to do it before." Well, that's understandable, that hair has only been lying on the floor for a month...
He has a push-broom and takes only thirty seconds to clean the floor around us making a fairly large pile of cut hairs, then he says, "I'll add your hair to that pile before putting it all in the trash." I mumble, "That's a lot of hair there. What kind of haircuts did you give those three boys?" He says, "Two buzz cuts and just a regular haircut for Terrence. Not as short as Rob's or mine though, heh heh, but the same idea." Defensively, I go, "Hey, it was you who asked me to cut your hair like Rob's." He puts a clip at the ends of the barber cape behind the back of my neck, saying, "I know. I wasn't complaining, I was just answering your question," and he pats my shoulder.
When the clippers get turned on my dick stiffens at the sound barber clippers make. I subtly shudder a little, but in a good way. That fucking fetish, ya know? Getting over that initial fetish buzz I'm realizing I don't care if Danny tells his mom he's gay or not. Well, wait a second... I do care because it's important for Danny to do that, but I don't want to be, and shouldn't be involved! He seems to have forgotten about it so I'll text him to remind him when I'm safely someplace other than here.
Danny used to talk non-stop when he first started giving us guys haircuts but he doesn't do much talking now, and he hasn't for a while. He's become very serious about this. I should ask him if he might consider being a barber as a career instead of teaching? No! No way he'd ever give up the chance to coach baseball, but this could be his second job... on weekends maybe. I've admitted he's an excellent barber but he'd still need to be licensed, which means going to barber's college I assume. Ya know, I probably should have studied the haircutting tutorials Danny studied. Yeah, except back when I started giving haircuts the thought of doing that never entered my mind. There probably weren't tutorials back then anyhow! Not when I was the neighborhood barber, plus I had no competition back then. I was the only home haircutting barber anyone knew, and therefore by elimination, the best.
As Danny's running the clippers up the sides and back of my head I'm looking at the set-up he has on a shelf behind him. He's almost as organized as Robby used to be during Rob's short time as our barber. Danny has all the attachments and clipper guides lined up, plus two types of combs, regular scissors and the thinning shears, a hairbrush and a couple of hair products like hair gel and two cans of hairspray. All those items are neatly placed on the handy shelf behind him and then there are hooks on the front from which he's hung a hairdryer and three clippers, all of them plugged into a multi-socket extension cord. Blow many circuit breakers, Danny-boy?
The three clippers include the original professional clippers I bought on eBay when I was eleven, then there are the trimmer clippers I bought online new, and the newest trimmer/shaving clippers Robby bought new online last summer. I've been led to believe that 'possession is nine-tenths of the law' so are these things Danny's now? I still have the barber clippers I bought at Rite Aid and a pair of professional scissors I was smart enough not to include in my donation to Robby when he was the barber. Rob then magnanimously donated all my stuff to Danny as a gesture of how glad he was to be done with barbering.
Finished with the sides and back of my head, Danny's using Rob's trimmer/shaver clippers to outline around and behind my ears and I'm just about to ask him not to square off the hair at the neckline but then decide to save my breath because he'd do it anyway. And he begins doing exactly that, saying, "Dylan, you have the best hair of anyone I've given a haircut... or for that matter anyone's hair I've ever seen." I mumble, "Thanks," and he finishes the outlining, saying, "In case you ever do a flattop for someone, you should use the quarter inch guide on the sides and back. Some of the professionals say go one-eighth inch short but I prefer to use the quarter-inch guide." Yeah, well thank God for that! I say, "Wonderful to know, Danny, but I've already given flattop haircuts to some guys. It's been a couple of years now, but I think I know how to do it and I think it should be a half-inch guide for the sides and back." He mutters, "Please, a half-inch for the sides when doing a flattop? Don't be ridiculous. I'm trying to give you serious advice here."
Hanging the clippers on its shelf hook, he picks up the hairbrush and the can of hairspray, saying, "Of course I'll take your word that you've given flattops before, but since the first mistake I made with your flattop haircut letting you talk me into that silly-looking long flattop, I've been doing flattops per the tutorial instructions, meaning I'm doing them correctly. That includes your own, by the way, and the length I cut flattops is an inch-long on top. That's my recommendation to you if you ever do one again. And, ya know, some of the tutorials say three-quarters of an inch on top, but..." and I interrupt, "Right, right. I got it! Thank you so much!" He snickers, and then mumbles, "I know I get obnoxiously carried away talking about haircutting, but it's so interesting. There's way more nuance to haircutting than most people realize."
He sprays my hair with the non-scented hairspray. This is the hairspray he bought for me after I almost gagged to death when he used the hideously scented hairspray doing my first flattop. He brushes the hairs back on top of my head which gets the hair standing straight up while he's using the hairdryer to blow the hairspray dry. He correctly continues brushing the hairs up straight so they'll stay that way. When he's finished with that my hair feels like wires sticking up from my scalp. Danny says, "Here's another tip, Dylan. Keep the comb level with the floor when sliding the clippers over it." I go, "Do you have a pen and paper? I'd like to jot these tips down." He laughs out loud and says, "No, but text me with your questions."
Actually, I should probably be even more objectionable to these idiotic 'tips' of his about haircutting, but the way he does haircutting fascinates me. He's so direct and confident and, like I always say, there's no hesitation in him. He goes right into doing things the way he thinks everything should be done and he doesn't care that I've been doing haircutting for over ten years... he's positive he knows better! And he has no doubt about that and, strangely, I actually admire that about him! Plus, he's probably right too, so there's that...
The clippers buzzing in my ears gives my dick another buzz while Danny slides a comb up the hairs at the front of my head, saying, "Can I believe your hair grew out this much?" and then the clippers go across the comb with a bunch of stiff blond hairs dropping to the cape in front of me. He repeats the combing up and sliding the clippers along the comb all over my head. It only takes seven or eight times and it's done. I've had a nice buzzing feeling in my groin all during the haircut but it's been nothing special because this is the third or fourth time I've gotten this haircut from Danny so by now it's too familiar and only gets my fetish peripherally involved. The first time though, Jesus, I almost spunked in my shorts. Actually, I miss that sensation, haha.
Turning off the clippers, Danny fucks around clipping here and there with scissors, totally unnecessary but like me he enjoys fucking around with guys' hair and so he drags it out a little. Finally, he has to say, "All done," and he uses a soft brush I didn't notice was on the shelf to lightly brush across my forehead and around my head. I mumble, "Very professional job, Danny." He unhooks the clip at the back of the cape and shakes it out with most of the cut hairs drifting to the floor as he says, "Oh, thank you! I appreciate you saying I'm professional. And by the way, Dylan, you look awesome!"
Standing up from the barber chair I'm looking at everything on his barber shelf, but don't see a mirror. I go, "The only thing your barbershop is missing is a mirror, which is sort of mandatory if you know what I mean." Danny has the long-handled push-brush again brushing my hair on the floor over to join the previous pile, saying, "I know. I'm gonna get one though. A large one and hang it over the shelf." Sweet!
I help by holding a dustpan as Danny pushes the cut hairs onto it and then the hair gets dumped into a small trashcan he has lined with a plastic bag. He says, "Good. Thanks for your help," and then, holding up a finger, he goes, "Just a second." I stand here holding the dustpan, mumbling, "What?" and he opens the door to the house, listens a second, and then says, "Yeah, I thought so. Mom is in the shower. I can hear it running." Shrugging, I go, "Uh huh. Well, thanks for the haircut, Danny. Even though I can't look at it I know it's a really good one, heh heh. I hope I see you on Friday."
I sort of motion at the door leading to the house, like... should I leave through there or go out the garage door? He says, "Don't leave, baby, we have plenty of time to sneak in a quickie. Seriously, when do we get a chance as good as the pool house, and now here?" I'm like, "Oh no, not here! The pool house was one thing, but no way am I having sex with you here with your mom in the house, plus she said she wants to see my haircut so she could pop out here any second now."
Sure, I said all that but it's weird because even as I said it I realized that my heart wasn't in the refusal. Ya see I have this really close and affectionate feeling for Danny right now! I mean, in addition to liking him a lot anyway today I gave him a haircut and now he just finished doing the same for me. I can't help it that I get to feeling very affectionate towards him because of that. I suppose it's connected with my relentless haircut fetish.
He comes right over to me putting his arm across my shoulders and hugging me against him, murmuring, "I know you don't mean that, baby. Of course, you want to have sex with me here. Don't be silly. I told you that my mom's in the fucking shower." I go, "Yeah, you're kinda right I guess, but I'll only stay on one condition. I'll stay if you, once and for all, stop calling me 'baby'." He looks like I just said the stupidest thing imaginable as he sputters, "What?" and I go, "You called me 'baby' when we first got here and your mom had a strange look on her face." After another hug, Danny chuckles and says, "No she didn't, and I hardly ever call you that. You are my baby though, aren't you."? I say, "NO! I'm nobody's fucking baby! Jesus!"
He chuckles again, mumbling, "Yeah, you are," and then, as he's guiding me away from the door, he takes the dustpan from me that I'm still stupidly holding, and says, "You want to have a quickie as much as I do, and so we're gonna do it. We're gonna have an extra fantastic one, okay?" I can't help grinning as I mutter, "Yeah, okay." Christ, I'm getting another boner from the way he confidently says everything... I like that about Danny.
Fuck, what am I supposed to do anyhow? I can't help it that he gives me shivers and makes my dick hard. I lean into him as his arm squeeze my shoulders again. Then another tight squeeze as he murmurs, "You're such a good friend, Dylan. I love how always willing to go along with everything I wanna do." Another squeeze and I sort of meld in against him. Using an ordinary speaking voice, he adds, "And, yeah, I know it's your 'thing' to always put up a little argument first, but that's okay 'cause you always give in and do what I want... plus, you're the best lover ever!" He lets go of me and picks up the tube of hair gel, saying, "This is a good lubricant, I mean as a substitute assuming I wash it off my dick right after... haha!" I go, "No! It'll be inside my ass."
Putting it back on the shelf, he mumbles, "Jesus, you thought I was serious? I was kidding, baby. I've got this instead," and he moves a snow tire and pulls out an almost empty tube of K-Y Jelly and then takes his cock out through the fly of his pants. Jesus, I'm up for that dick to be inside me now. for sure! I can't help myself. He gets some of the jelly lube on his hand and strokes his penis. Jesus, he has a cute grin on his face, as he strokes himself. His eyes are so pretty too.
Except for this eight-foot square area that Danny cleared out for his barbershop, the rest of the garage is full of tires and lawn mowers and all kinds of junk. As I stare at him stroking himself, I ask, "Why do you have lubricant in here?" He goes, "Oh, um, to help Terrence decide if he's bi. You remember when Terrence..." I go, "Oh yeah, I do. In your bedroom that time last summer," and now I remember meeting Mrs. Monday too! No need to mention that to Danny but I think it was that day he's referring to. That time Terrence was trying to fuck Hayden while Danny was coaching him. Gee, I don't remember Mrs. Monday seeming so, I don't know, so hot. I go, "Your mom looks different somehow," and he shrugs, mumbling, "She's lost weight I think." Hmmm, now I'm not so sure it was her I met.
More importantly, Danny's really getting into stroking that cock of his. The slippery K-Y Jelly he has on his hand allows it to slide tightly and quickly back and forth on what is becoming a hard-looking penis. Danny's making a 'face' now like he's in pain as his hand moves on his cock with the jelly making a wet squishy sound and it's getting me aroused. Yeah, I'm imagining how that must feel!
Danny's back arches, his hips pushing forward. Wow, the sensations coming off his boner must be really something because Danny is scrunching his 'face' with his eyes closed while moaning, "Mmm, mmm, oooh." Christ, I'm getting a boner watching him and then he opens his eyes and smirks at me, muttering, "Ooh, um, shit this feels good. Ya know?" He stops stroking himself to tell me, "Hey, drop your jeans, Dylan." I was stupidly fascinated at how sexy it is watching him come close to jerking himself off.
I go, "Yeah, sure," as I'm subtly adjusting my junk and then watching him again as he begins, lazily this time, pulling on his dick making more of those slippery/wet, "Squish, squish, squish," sounds. I'm imagining his boner in my ass making the same sounds. Grinning at me, Danny is as friendly as a puppy dog as he mumbles, "Damn, I've got myself a nice clean pecker here to play with, huh? I mean after you expertly sucked me off while cleaning it at the same time." Huh? What's he inferring I clean off his dick?
He stops stroking himself, but still keeps his hard cock in his hand, saying, "Hey, I meant to ask you earlier... how'd my cum taste? Did you notice any sort of taste to it?" I force myself to look away from his pretty, shiny-with-lubricant boner, and say, "Hmmm, yeah, your dick tasted good but I couldn't tell you what that taste was. Um, just that I liked it."
He goes, "But it was a good taste, huh?" I nod, as he rubs more lube on his cock and gets into another good jerk off stroke, grunting out, "You still need to drop your pants, ya know?" I go, "Oh, yeah," and this time I drop my pants. My cock is already a semi-boner hanging a little away from my body to the left as I sort of rub it a couple of times. I'm embarrassed about having a partial hard-on from watching Danny pull on his pecker but he doesn't notice me blush. I can't stop staring at Danny's fist going back and forth on his steel boner. Why doesn't he shoot off? It's fascinatingly sexy watching him jerk himself off and imagining him doing that to my cock.
Danny grunts, "Ooooh, man..." and then he nods at my crotch, and goes, "Ya got yourself a nice looking penis there, baby." I mutter, "Yeah, it looks just like yours." He goes, "Um, pretty much, yeah. Yours is shorter but similar. So, ya say my cum tasted good, huh? I've tasted it and couldn't detect any taste myself." I go, "Ya don't say. When was that, this morning?" I chuckle as he laughs out loud, and then goes, "You asshole! Haha! No, it was years ago when I was still jerking off." I go, "Uh huh," as I'm continuing to rub my semi-boner and watch him stroke his. Now he's stroking it straight out and that thing looks so fucking hard!
It occurs to me that this is exactly the kind of goofing-around buddy sex we should be doing, and I mean all the time instead of those two-hour sexathons in bed with Danny doing his version of lover's sex. Of course, it's my fault as much as his; more my fault actually! I should never have let that continue. I mean, it just encourages Danny's premise that we have a relationship that's more than a buddy sex relationship. Well, it is more than a run-of-the-mill buddy sex thing between us, sure, but not the kind of 'relationship' Danny thinks we have. I've told him ten times we don't have a relationship like he says we do. I've come right out and said that more than ten times!
Oh man though, I like doing it with him in bed soooo much it's been impossible for me to stop! My summer crush on Danny is more than a crush, obviously, but I'm not in love with him and I don't know how to make that any clearer.
He finally lets go of his cock and in its extremely hard state, it sticks defiantly straight out from his groin now even moving a little bit. It's way too rigid, too hard to even quiver as Danny steps over to me. He has a smirk on his cute youthful face. I'm feeling self-conscious about being this attracted to him, I need to look away. When I do he gives my bare ass a hard whack with the accompanying, "SMACK!" sound ringing out in the garage! My right buttocks quivers and stings. Damn, that startled the hell out of me and I go, "OW!" and jump but my pants are around my knees so I stumble against the barber's chair as Danny laughs and then says, "You looked away from me, Dylan. What's up with that?" Rubbing my ass, I go, "What the hell did you smack my ass with... a two-by-four?"
Snickering, he again holds me around the waist from behind, my hands hold onto the back of the barber chair hoping for a bit of a spanking but Danny murmurs, "No, I'd never hit you with anything like that, baby. I used my hand to spank you so you'd snap out of your trance," and he snuggles his face against the side of my neck sort of under my chin with his sparse beard tickling and I get goose bumps and shivers all over me. He does a quick kiss on my neck leaving a saliva wet spot there and then licks up under my chin. With one finger. under my chin, he pulls my face around to his so he can do one of his awesome special kisses on my slightly opened mouth. I do a quiet moan of arousal, his tongue in my mouth while my dick finishes becoming a full-blown boner and threatens to pull away from my belly in its tightness. Leaning back into Danny's hot body, pressing my ass against his hard slippery cock as I try to stifle a long moan but can't and, "Mmmmm," slips from my throat. He makes me feel so good. His body feels hard and his scent is clean and sexy and he does everything so perfectly... I simply can't help myself when he gets like this.
Danny's not blind. He can see how hot and aroused he gets me, so he murmurs, "Okay, baby, be patient" and he turns me around face to face with him. I'm putty in his hands as he grins hugging me tightly against him, chest to chest now, and then slowly and deliberately he does another one of those kisses with me kissing back, my arms going around him. We make out like that for a minute or so with his hard-stroked-cock slippery with K-Y Jelly. It somehow got forced down as my cock stays pointing up between us. His hard slippery boner is smearing the lube around his pants below the zipper and around my shaved groin while I moan right into his mouth. I'm squirming against him as if I'm trying to get inside him and he holds me tightly, murmuring, "I know, baby. You want it so badly and I'll do it for you in a couple seconds," I grind against his body as he teasingly humps his hips against my hard cock making me moan again. How does he get me this aroused?
His mouth finds mine and he does a wet sloppy kiss and then his tongue is licking around my mouth and up the front of my nose. I'm clinging to him moaning, smelling him and wanting him. Pulling his mouth away, Danny does one last quick kiss on my lips, another sloppy one before murmuring, "I wish I could take you to bed right now and treat you the way you deserve by giving you a slow long fuck." I think I'm going to cum and groan, "Oh, I'm gonna..." and he goes, "Shhh, no you're not. Ya know, maybe next Sunday I'll get you in my bed again, baby."
He was right, I thought I was going to burst out a climax but I didn't. Oh God, it feels good to be right at the tipping point though... so fucking good! He's got me in a daze with me nodding my head at whatever he says and now he goes, "But for now, we'll both need to settle for a quickie and I'm sorry that's all we can do but we'll get there someday, Dylan, you and me. When we're together for good I'll spend a week with you in bed and try my best to satisfy you once and for all. It'll be the best time I've ever had too. Taking care of you will be an honor." My eyes are blinking as I go, "Um, huh, what? Buddy sex in bed. That's what you mean... right?"
Pulling his head back a little, he's grinning at me and looking like the sexiest boy in high school, and then he goes, "Yeah, righttttt... buddy sex!" He licks up the front of my nose again and then, leaving it dripping with his saliva, he says, "Time for you to turn back around and brace yourself. Um, hold onto the back of barber chair again and I'll fuck you as hard as I can."
First, he was into the right playful frame of mind for buddy sex and then he slipped right into his lover's mode and now we're back to doing hot and fast buddy sex. That's what we should be doing but, oh man, I'm sort of still dreamily gazing at him when what I should be doing is joking with him. Looking into his eyes I'm at least able to resist saying something affectionate as I mutter, "Yeah, right, I need to turn around now." He chuckles, "Uh huh... are you gonna do that now, or...? and he grins knowing how hot he's got me... how hot and aroused I am to be fucked by him.
Trying to be blasé, I force a chuckle as if this isn't anything special and as I start to turn around he gets my boner in his fist holding me in place, saying as he strokes my hard cock, "Hold on a second." Squeezing my boner, he adds, "Obviously, I absolutely adore the way you get aroused by me, Dylan... just so you know that. And also know that I love you. You know that, right?" He strokes my boner real fast as I go, "Ooooh!" my hands going to his shoulders and my forehead leaning forward to rest against his. He asks, "You know that... right?" and he strokes my cock fast as I go up on my toes, muttering, "Uh huh... yeah, I know," and he chuckles as he's slowing his stroking, mumbling, 'You are so damn much fun to fuck with. No one gets as hot to be fucked as you get... nobody!"
Orgasm sensations haven't diminished in me and its sort of, I don't know, fabulous I guess. His hand feels so perfect on my cock as he starts stroking it again and I'm like, "Ahh, ahh, ahh, Danny, ooh, no Danny, ooh ooh." He stops and laughs before saying, "Well then, turn around as I told you to do three times," and he rubs my flattop, saying, "And this is an awesome crisp new haircut I did for my boyfriend." I gulp and turn around as he mumbles, "I swear to God, baby, this is when you look the most adorable, right after I give you a haircut. It's almost too much... I could eat you with a spoon!"
Trying not to make another gasping sound, I'm inhaling deeply while at the same time trying not to cum. He has me so fucking aroused though I can't even catch my breath. Oh boy, and then, "SMACK! SMACK!" sounds rings out again with both my buttocks quivering and stinging like fire. Resisting the urge to put my hand back there, I push my ass up for him and hear a murmured, "That's my boyfriend," and immediately Danny's boner is spreading the rim of my anus as he adds conversationally, "FYI, baby, Mom has been known to take fast showers. That's why I needed to get your attention with a couple of light taps on your cute ass."
Oh God, his hard cock feels so good spreading open my asshole. It hurts some too, sure, but mostly it feels good. Um, did he say something about his mom, I sputter, "Ah, huh? Did you... what was that?" but right away I start concentrating on how his boner feels as it slides tightly up my ass inch after inch until I'm holding my breath thinking that his cock feels longer than six-plus inches. My hands are on the back of the barber chair, me leaning over with my ass sticking up for Danny. I'm leaning forward so far the top of my head is almost touching the back of the chair. Danny ignores my sputtering question and does a couple of humps against my buttocks so I know he's all the way in. Oh good... so I let out my held breath not even realizing I was holding it in.
The pain fades almost as quickly as it came on me. Danny gets his arms around my stomach, lies on my back which feels snugly good and then it gets even better when he gently rests the side of his face partially against the side of mine, and murmurs, "Doesn't this feel fantastic? My cock and your ass are perfect together, huh?" Oh God, it does feel good, so I go, "Mmmm, nice, Danny. Yeah, it's a good fit alright."
Staying in his position of lying against my back and me leaning over with my head almost touching the back of the chair Danny's hips pull back slowly and his iron boner withdraws from my ass with sensations tantalizingly beginning to sizzle inside me. He pulls it all the way back like he always does and then pushes his boner back up my ass a little bit faster than he took it back. After three seconds there's another fairly slow withdrawal and then the thrust back in and he begins steadily and smoothly pushing and pulling his boner in my ass the way only he can, which is to say when he's pulling it back he pulls it back so far my anus gets distended and I think... oh no, he's gonna pull it out... but he never does. That's a freakish level of coordination, one I haven't experienced from anyone else. Rob does it occasionally but I think it's accidental when it happens. Danny does it every fucking time on purpose and it feels really, really good!
When he has my ass opened properly he increases the speed of his trusting, and then further increases it until there's the familiar loud, "Slapslapslap,' sounds of flesh smacking against flesh and after a minute of trying to be cool I can't help but let my moans join the slapping sounds. I'm moaning, "Umm, umm, umm, ooh Danny, umm umm." With every quick thrust of that perfectly sized boner and the 'Slapslapslap," sounds along with "Umm, umm, umm," sounds go on for too short a time. It couldn't be better unless it lasted longer... that's the only thing that could make it better.
His long, hard boner, just the right size, plows my ass rhythmically until every pore in my body begins tingling sexily, my rock hard cock is sticking straight out, the swollen head dangerously close to the back of the chair and it feels like it wants to get longer in its quivering state of extreme hardness, the foreskin stretched back completely off the swollen head. My rectum is a total pleasure zone with my prostate throwing a party and the perfectly stretched lips of my anus doing that irresistible itchy sexy-feeling-thing and it's almost overwhelming. I love taking it up the ass from Danny because of our equipment, Danny's and mine. Nobody fucks my ass as good as Danny. A quirk of nature to have his penis and my rectum so perfectly matched, and then the two of us meeting without knowing until much later about the fortuitous coincidence of our equipment being so perfect. Well, Robby introduced us so maybe our meeting one another wasn't a coincidence. And yes, sex with Robby is still number one for me because we're in love, but Danny's a solid second now in the all-important sex department.
Omigod, it's impossible for a boner to be harder than Danny's... unless it's mine. The feel of it sliding tightly in my ass is enough to make me scream at the incredible sensations I'm experiencing. I start squirming as sensations all too quickly soar toward climax. Danny's grunting with the effort now and his forehead feels damp with perspiration against the side of my face as his thrusting gets more erratic. I know that means he's close to climaxing and then I'm sure of it when he lifts off my back and grabs my hips with both hands to thunder his cock up my ass for thirty more seconds, and that's it... my climax comes swooping in on me... I squeal while shooting a stream of cum straight out to splat on the back of the barber chair and then again with my head dropping onto the cape that's partially hanging there. The cape escaping somehow the onslaught of my two cum shots but I do feel little cut hairs from the cape itchy against my forehead. "Ooooh," I moan, my eyes closed savoring that climax as I shudder at its rippling after-effects.
That felt ridiculously good! Danny's humping against my buttocks and I feel, or think I do, a hard stream of cum hit inside me as Danny moans, "Oooooh, mmmm, fucccccck," and presses harder against my ass, probably shooting more cum up there but I don't even pretend to feel that one. Now Danny's almost as limp as I am, lying against me again and then hugging around my stomach tightly for just a second before lifting off me and standing up pulling his cock from my ass. It makes a wet "Plop" sound coming free with cum rolling out of my ass.
Danny pulls on my hips from behind to get me standing, as he says, "We should get cleaned up really quick, baby. That was dynamite and awesome! And, oh fuck, I loved it! Mom and her quick showers is a concern though." I nod and he hugs me again, saying, "Jesus, I wish we could do this five times a day."
He lets go of me and I take a step back to steady myself. I'm feeling weak but great at the same time. Trying to be normal, as though this was routine buddy sex, I go, "Nice fuck, Danny. Way to go." He chuckles, "It was fast but pretty good even if I do say so myself." He wipes the cum off my ass with a paper towel and then rubs some off the back of my legs, muttering, "That'll have to do," and he hands me a clean paper towel he just ripped off a roll. Huh, I didn't even notice he had a roll of paper towels under the shelf. I mutter, "You've thought of everything, huh?" He goes, "Except for water. There's an outdoor water spigot off the side of the garage that I guess I could get a hose from there to here, but why would I?" I go, "Why, indeed?"
We get ourselves put back together as best we can and then Danny pats my shoulder, saying, "As always, Dylan, I've had a spectacular time with you. Well, every time is spectacular when I'm lucky enough to be with you. I dream of a time we're together twenty-four hours a day. Haha, I guess you'll need to be my teacher's assistant then, huh? Um, and my first base coach for the team I'm managing. That's easy to imagine. Not! Haha."
Ha! I go, "Yeah, right. Seriously though, it was a great time for me too, a really great time but I gotta go now, and I mean for real." He says, "I know that! Hey, first though let my mom see your haircut." Hmmm, will he spring his coming 'out' party on me if I do that? Ya know what... no, he won't. He knows how I feel about it now... so he wouldn't do that.
I mutter, "If I must, okay... but as quickly as possible." I follow him inside the house where Danny goes, "Yo, Mom. Ya wanna see Dylan's haircut?" Ranch houses have everything on the first floor obviously, that's what a ranch style house is. Everything is spread out and from here I can see the bathroom door is closed so his mom hasn't finished whatever she's doing in there. I'm about to point this obviousness out to Danny when his mom yells out, "Next time, boys. I'm not presentable at the moment."
She sounded a little annoyed, or maybe embarrassed that Danny called to her when she's obviously not done in there. But, in Danny's defense, it was she who asked to see my finished haircut. Danny shrugs, mumbling, "I don't suppose you'd wanna wait until she comes out?" I laugh out loud before saying, "No, I'm good. Thanks, Danny. Hey, seriously... you're awesome, bro," He nods his head and then says, "Wait," and he kisses my lips quickly. Then, with his hands on my shoulders, he grins and asks, 'You weren't trying to leave without a kiss goodbye I hope." I go, "I guess not as it turns out," and he chuckles patting my back, saying, "Okay, make fun of me if you want. You'll see though, someday you'll be asking me for a kiss goodbye... that's if I ever forget to give you one, which I never will."
Taking a page from Danny's book, the one about ignoring things we don't want to hear, I let that pass. He walks out the front door with me, and says, "I hope we play football Friday. Text me, okay?" I hold out my fist and Danny bumps it with his fist and then we do a quick hug as I go, "Absolutely. I'll text either way," and then I'm finally on my way back home... my other home. And I've got a haircut and a smacked but very well fucked ass to take home with me.
It's a short drive home from Danny's so there isn't much time for me to figure out why I'm feeling weird. Well, first of all, I feel fantastic after Danny's and my oral and then anal sex, and I'm also feeling awesome about us doing haircuts for each other. I'm feeling really good about all that. So there's that, and maybe that's why I'm feeling weird! I mean, because I'm feeling too good about all of it. I can still smell Danny in my head and feel his dried perspiration on the side of my face.
Danny's awesome and I'm totally used to his quirky side. I actually find it endearing... is that a bad thing? I mean, as I've thought before, there isn't a phony or mean bone in his body... certainly not that bone. No, seriously, he's upfront about everything, even things that he actually should be embarrassed about admitting, but he's not. Everything about him is pretty much on display, for better or worse, and mostly it's for the 'better' if you ask me. He's so fucking likable. Maybe I partially think that because he so obviously likes me. It's hard not to really like someone who really likes you, ya know?
Putting those musings on hold for another time, I drive onto the driveway at home and park the pickup where Robby always parks. Getting out I see Mrs. Dickers' station wagon so I know Rob and his dad are home. Feeling my hair, I'm thinking getting this haircut explains why it took so long to drop Danny off. And then I think, fuck that... I don't need an excuse! Still, I'm glad I got the haircut so if anyone thinks I do need an excuse... there it is.
As I'm walking to the back door I check my wristwatch and see it twenty to six so I'm not late for dinner. At the back door, I try seeing myself in the windowpane to check out my latest flattop but my reflection is inconclusive. I know it's a good haircut though 'cause Danny did it. Going inside I see a smiling Mrs. Dickers who says cheerfully, "There he is! Hi Dylan, and oh, don't you look nice, dear. Did Danny do your haircut?" I nod, "Yes, ma'am he did. How's it look? He didn't have a mirror so..." She says, "You're so handsome..." and Robby comes from the family room carrying a cocktail in a tall glass with a lemon wedge and a maraschino cherry floating in the liquid. It looks refreshing... the drink does, and so does Robby.
He gives me a one arm hug and a boozy quick kiss. Holding his drink up, he says, "It's called a Tom Collins." I go, "I've heard of that cocktail. Let me taste." Giving me the glass, he says, "Oh good! I see you got another nice flattop haircut from Danny. You look so high-schoolish with that haircut!" and he touches my hair muttering, "It's like wire." I say, "It's like a sour lemonade with a gin aftertaste. Um, the drink I mean, not my hair. That's hairspray on my hair and I can't wait to wash it out in the shower," and then to Mrs. Dickers, I ask, "Do I have time to take a shower before dinner?" She's making a big salad and I can smell the cucumbers over here. She says, "Oh sure, honey. Dinner won't be ready until six-thirty or so and Rob's right, you look so cute with that haircut." Rob says too loudly, "I never said the word 'cute, Mother! Christ, I hate when you put words in my mouth. I'm sorry, but don't do that anymore, okay? It really pisses me off no end." She goes, "Oh good grief, Rob, I thought you meant cute when you said the high school thing." He goes, "Well, I didn't..." and that's the last I hear of their latest nonsensical argument because I'm on my way up the stairs.
I'm halfway up when I hear Mr. Dickers asking, "Can I make you a cocktail, son?" I look down and see he's carrying an empty glass to the kitchen. I go, "Oh, hi, Mr. Dickers. Um, yes, I'd love one but I'm gonna take a quick shower now." He shoots me with his forefinger and thumb, saying, "It'll be waiting for you when you're done." Oh man, Rob's parents are so nice to me!
Ha, and I was right about the haircut too. Now I get the compliment from Mrs. D.! No compliment when I had a shaggy hairdo though. Haha, my Mom would compliment me if I had an Afro or a shaved head. And back in the day with Ryan in charge of my haircuts I almost did have a shaved head a couple of times... with Willie too for that matter.
Stripping off my clothes in the bathroom, I dump them in the hamper and then get the shower running. While the water comes up to temperature I take a piss... aaaah! Those fucking beers don't stay with a person very long! Actually, I had the first three beers an hour and a half ago so that's pretty long for beer to hang around. Damn, I feel good though!
After washing my hands I brush my teeth and stare at my head. Omigod, that's a good haircut! Danny's been doing slightly longer versions and he doesn't even realize it. I don't think he realizes it anyhow. Stepping in the shower, I shampoo my hair and then it's a five-minute shower using two of those minutes on my, um, rectum, and then when I've dried myself I wrap a towel around my waist and go to our bedroom.
My hair is trained, so it's a mere thirty seconds with the hairdryer and two swipes of a comb and that's all I need to do with my hair. Then, and I'm not sure why, but I put on the nice clothes I was wearing when we drove home. I guess I want to look nice for dinner. Plus, I only had these clothes on for an hour.
What else? Well, I always wear my watch and my small loop earrings stayed in for my shower. Except for my cross necklace that's all the jewelry I'm wearing. I'm not big on wearing rings even though I've got some really cool ones from both Robby and Chub. Birthday presents. I wear them occasionally and I know it's kinda ironic that the jewelry I always choose to wear were gifts to me in my youth from Willie Worthington. What can I say?
The three Dickers are still in the kitchen when I come downstairs. Rob hands me a drink that I'm assuming his dad made for me. Rob says, "Good news... we don't need to work Friday, babe, and the weather forecast is for a sunny day with the temperature in the low fifties so we'll get a football game organized. Ya wanna see if your brother will play?" I nod, "Yep, I'm sure he will."
Mr. and Mrs. Dickers are talking near the stove chuckling about something, so that's good to hear. Robby says, "C'mon, bring your drink and we'll grab a smoke in the pool house." I nod, and he adds, "Attention parental units!" His mom and dad look over and Robby tells them, "Dylan and I are gonna have a cigarette in the pool house. We'll be back in plenty of time for dinner," and he turns to give me a gentle shove toward the door as his mom says, "I wish you boys would quit that unhealthy..." but that's all I hear because Rob slams the door behind him as he's ushering me out ahead of him.
In the pool house, Robby gives me a Marlboro Light, and says, "It's a good feeling not having classes for a few days, huh Dylan?" I nod my head and he adds, "Damn, I want this year to be over so badly." He holds his Bic lighter for me, lighting my cigarette while I'm mumbling around the cigarette in my mouth, "Don't wish your life away, Rob. There are still some good times left for us this year... our senior year!" He waves at the cloud of smoke as my cigarette fires up and says, "Yeah, you're right, but I like working at the office much more than going to classes. It feels like I'm accomplishing something at work and, get this, Dad mentioned something while I was driving him home. An offhand remark about how I'll probably start out at the 'manager's' minimum wage. That sounds bad at first except the minimum is sixty-five thousand, plus a bonus." I go, "Is that good?" I have no idea about the business world, except that I like money as much as the next guy. Rob goes, "Well, I guess it's not great, but I'd been under the impression I'd start working at a trainee's pay scale, so the sixty-five thousand is a big step up from that." He goes on to tell me about the Saturday meeting that he'll be in all day and I try to be interested but I don't have a clue what he's talking about.
We only have the one smoke and then Robby nods at the half-full glass I'm holding, and says, "Drink that up, baby. Let's get another Tommy Collins before dinner." Tommy? Rob must have had a few drinks before I got here. It's not hard to tell when Robby's getting smashed. He can't hold his liquor as well as I can. I'm not bragging though, just stating a fact. And, me holding my liquor is almost surely another one of those things I have had nothing to do with. My metabolism or something. It's like some people can eat fatty steaks every day of their lives and yet still have excellent cholesterol counts while others... well, you see what I mean.
We go inside and Rob makes our Tom Collins this time. It's a tasty drink if you can hide the gin taste. It's funny but I can drink a gin martini if I must, but in any other drink that include gin I don't want to taste the gin. And it's a lie that you can't taste vodka in mixed drinks, and the one time I tried a vodka martini I couldn't finish it. Most people prefer a vodka martini over a gin one, so go figure...
The dinner is excellent and even Rob compliments his mom. Rob and I both drink a glass of red wine with dinner although neither of us has yet acquired a taste for it. Presently it detracts from the meal but eventually, if we persevere, the wine will be a compliment to the meal. So far though, I need to take people's word for that.
Mr. D. says, "You boys are working Saturday but do you have plans for Saturday night? Em and I would like to take you guys out to dinner. Whaddaya say?" Robby looks at me raising his eyebrows, which means he's leaving it up to me to decide. What the fuck does he think I'm gonna say... no, we don't want to go out to dinner with you! I'm like, "I'd love to go out to dinner. I can't remember the last time I had dinner at a restaurant." That's a bald-faced lie, but lies are good sometimes when said to help a situation or make someone feel good. In this case, it makes Mr. and Mrs. Dickers feel good about their generous idea that will pretty much, unfortunately, ruin a perfectly good Saturday night for Rob and me. Rob goes, "Yeah, okay, what Dylan said," and his mom chuckles. His dad says, "Great. You guys pick the restaurant. Maybe one in Boston. Wherever you want to have dinner. We're proud of those midterm grades both you boys had and hope the final grades are as good." Mrs. D. says, "And I'm sure they will be, Robert. These two boys are doers!" Doers?
No, obviously that's very nice of Rob's parents and I appreciate the thought. Mrs. D. asks, "Would you like some more meatloaf, boys?" I say, "I would, yes, ma'am, it's delicious," and Robby pretends to cough, partially covers him saying, "Brown noser". I snicker as the platter is passed down to me with Robby sliding off a slice of meatloaf and then I do the same. As I'm passing the platter back to Mr. D. at the head of the table which, by the way, is large enough for eight people, Mrs. D. says, "Ya know, Dylan, Robert had a flattop haircut all through college... didn't you, dear?"
Mr. Dickers says, "Well, yes, but I was in the Army's ROTC program," and he talks about that for a bit. There wasn't an actual war going on at the time but he says he still wanted to serve his country and blah, blah, blah. He ends by saying his father talked him into joining the ROTC and he wished he hadn't when all was said and done but, he finally admits it was probably a worthwhile experience for him. I'm thinking Mr. D. has retained a lot of the traits one learns in the Army.
Mrs. D. goes on to tell me about her and 'Robert' being sweethearts at college and it's like a personal conversation about their younger days together, which is the first I'm hearing about any of it. I say, she told me about it because obviously Robby already has heard all this before. As boring as the conversation is, I like it because it means I don't need to say hardly anything... just listen, then smile and nod my head once in a while.
Well, I've also found out the reason Mrs. and Mr. Dickers are so keen on my flattop haircut. Mr. Dickers had one for a number of years and he had that haircut when Mrs. Dickers probably started 'putting out' for him. No! Obviously, that was just wrong of me. When they began dating I meant to say. Weird how some things turn out though. I mean, they probably like me more because of this haircut, a haircut Danny talked me into getting against my wishes. Danny told me why he was keen on me having this flattop but I kinda forget what exactly his explanation amounted to. Something about him wanting to show me he could make decisions for me better than Rob, or some such craziness. Anyway, I like the haircut now so, whatever...
After dinner, Rob wants to shoot some pool at a local dive in Framingham thereby further proving he's hammered. He's never suggested we shoot pool before in his life. I'm all for getting out of the house though so off we go with me driving our new pickup, um, Rob's new pickup. Rob wants to stop at Sharky's Bar which isn't really a dive-dive bar, although it is an old bar. We go inside and there's a long bar with stools going down the right side and small tables for two all down the wall opposite the bar and then a side room with pool tables, two of them, plus a dart board.
Rob looks around and says, "I was hoping some of the guys from high school would be here tonight. It'd be good hooking up with some of my old teammates." The place is loud and active and smells like beer. From my first glance, I'd say there are maybe as many as forty people in here, mostly guys but a few females at the tables, and most everyone appears to be under the age of thirty. There's only one bartender, a middle-aged man who I've seen before. He's got a big pot belly and he's missing a finger on his left hand, the forefinger. Yeah, I've been in here twice, both times in the afternoon and missing-finger was the bartender both times. The guy must be a real go-getter working afternoons and evenings.
The nighttime crowd in here seems alright; regular guys plus the normal loudmouths but there's nothing especially dangerous in the air. No, this bar isn't like a motorcycle gang's hangout or anything like that. It's a Framingham neighborhood hangout with mostly the same crew you'd find here any night you showed up, except during holiday periods there's also the college crew home on break adding to the noise.
We haven't even got to the bar when someone calls out, "Fucking Dickers! I didn't think you went out after dark." Rob and some short stocky guy, who's aged much more than Robby, do a hand-clasp and a half-ass one-arm hug with Robby saying, "Still a dipshit, huh Joe?" Joe is losing his hair but to his credit, he hasn't resorted to the dreaded comb-over yet. Instead, he shaves the hair he does have which I think is about as dumb a move as there is, but its what athletes do so it's what guy-lemmings do too. Some hair on your head is better than no hair, right?
Robby motions at me, telling Joe, "This is my best friend, Dylan Newman." Joe and I bump fist without him paying much attention to me so, obviously, Joe is a straight dude... haha. We both mutter, "Yo, nice to meet you." I went to a high school with twenty-five hundred students so it's not unusual this guy and I wouldn't know each other.
Two other guys who look alike come over saying way too loudly, and at the same time, "Yo, Rob, wassup?" Robby goes, "The Dopey twins! Hey boys, wassup yourself?" Nobody ever answers the 'whassup' question. The Dopey twins and Rob are smacking hands and then doing the half-hearted hug which has developed over the years to more of a chest bump than a hug. It's sort of obligatory... the chest/bump/hug. Rob says, "I thought you two losers were going to college on the west coast," and one of the Dopey twins, the dopiest looking one, says, "We are, we're going to UCLA, numbnuts! We're just home for Thanksgiving." Well, they're the exception then. Coming home from the west coast for a four day weekend... seriously?
I'm away from them motioning to the bartender so I don't need to suffer through another introduction. The bartender looks at me and makes a rude sound and then does the come-here motion with the three fingers he has left on his hand and I know he wants to see ID. Handing him my driver's license he holds it under a light and then shakes his head, mumbling, "The fake ID's are getting better every year, not that I give a flying shit. What can I get ya, pal?" I buy two draft beers for six bucks, resisting the urge to scream... rip off! Passing a beer to Rob, he goes, 'Thanks," and then he's about to introduce me to the Dopey twins when someone grabs my shoulder and goes, "Newman, are you following me around again?"
Taking a step back, I turn around and there's Ray Reeves. Oh, balls! I go, "Hey, Ray. You're twenty-one now, huh?" He's got my arm, pulling me away and I step with him so my beer doesn't spill, saying, "Jesus, Ray... what the fuck?" He goes, "Yeah, what the fuck is it with you and that nineteen-fifties flattop haircut?" I mutter, "Nice to see you again too." He takes a swallow from his fresh draft beer and then says, "You look like you're fifteen-years-old with that haircut." I take a swallow of beer, mumbling, "Oh?" and then add, "You don't. What's with the beard?" He has a full beard; one of those style beards that are supposed to be a cool looking three-day beard with a neatly razored outline so everyone will know it's a fashion statement and not that he's too lazy to shave. Actually, it looks cool on him.
Ray goes, "If you could grow a beard you'd show it off too." Looking around, I ask, 'Who you here with?" He says, "Bean and Dawg, why do you wanna know?" I shake my head and say, "Still an asshole, huh Ray? I was just making conversation." He mutters, "You call me an asshole after all we've meant to each other?" I give him a disgusted 'look' and Robby calls over to me, "I'm gonna shoot pool with these derelicts." I nod at him, yelling back, "Okay, I'll be there in a minute." Ray goes, "Holy shit! You two are still an item, huh?" Before I can respond to that, Ray adds, "Oh yeah, and Sonny told me he and Squirrel ran into you yesterday. Maybe I need a haircut too." He doesn't, but I would have ignored his comment even if he did. Ya know, Danny might have something there with that routine of ignoring what you don't want to hear. Most guys just go on with something else.
Ray takes my arm, saying, "C'mon over here with me and say hello to a couple of my old posse boys." Wow, you know what I just realized? Usually, I feel sexually aroused when I run into Ray, and that's even though I find him otherwise repugnant. Strangely, I'm not sensing any arousal tonight though. Damn, that's awesome!
We walk over to a table halfway down the side wall and there's Dawg with the same big thick ponytail he had when I first met him. That's only slightly interesting though because I got to cut that original huge ponytail off. Yeah, I cut it all off to a wicked short burr haircut when Ray insisted all his posse boys have that same haircut. I'll bet Dawg hasn't had a haircut since then and that was more than two years ago. Looking at Ray I can't believe how infatuated I became with him those six weeks during that summer or, for that matter, why all of us did whatever Ray said. He had some kind of amazing natural leadership back then. It all seems so long ago, and actually almost impossible to believe it even happened.
Dawg stands right up to give me a really big hug, saying, "It's great to see you, Dylan." He's still very soft-spoken. With that hairdo, his tattoos, and his motorcycle jacket and engineer boots, plus his many body piercings he looks like a hoodlum but he isn't at all. He's a gentle well spoken unassuming guy, kinda sweet actually. No, I don't mean in a gay way... Dawg is straight! I go, "Great to see you too, Dawg!"
Ray and I are standing next to their two-person table as Dawg sits back down. There's a pint of beer at the other seat, I assume it's Bean's and wonder where Ray sits since there are only two chairs. As if reading my mind, Ray asks Dawg, "Where's Bean?" Dawg shrugs and says, "I don't know. He dropped his beer off and left." I'm like, "Well, I'm sure I'll catch up with him sometime tonight, but right now I need to meet..." and Ray says, "Wait a fucking second!" He pulls the table over that's next to this one and grabs a chair to sit on. Sitting on it, he goes, "Dylan, get that other chair and sit the fuck down with us for a few minutes. For Christ sakes, don't be so stuck-up!"
What? I'm not stuck up so I pull over a chair and sit down pointing my finger at Ray, saying, "You never change, do you? I'm the last person anyone can call stuck-up!" Dawg goes, 'He's right, Ray," and to me, he says, "But why don'cha stay and say hello to Bean, Dylan. He always thought you were the coolest dude. He still does as far as I know," and Bean comes up behind me rubbing my back, slurring, 'Hey, bro! How ya doing, Dylan?"
Turning I see a slightly inebriated Theodore, who everyone calls Bean. I go, "Hey, Theodore, you're looking the same as ever. How you doing?" and I stand up to do a quick hug with him. Oh man, I immediately think back to Bean's long skinny cock that he fucked me with two or three times during my sophomore year at Merrimack. It was when I'd come home for a weekend although I've forgotten why (it was out) I was spending those weekends at home. Anyway, there are some unique sensations produced when a very long skinny dick is moving back and forth in your rectum, assuming you're into that kind of thing... which I am. And by long I mean at least eight inches, but very skinny. Yeah, a long skinny boner like Bean's is unique alright, but it was very pleasurable getting fucked by it... zero pain, but yet it didn't feel at all like it was rattling around in there.
Bean sits down, saying, "Good, I'm good, Dylan. I'm glad to see you're as pretty as ever but whaddaya doing slumming in this dump? Did you flunk outta college?" I go, "It's Thanksgiving, Bean, we're on break," and he goes, "Oh, yeah, that's right." Bean looks the same. Very slim and tall with a fresh, clean-shaven face. Not an especially good-looking guy, but not bad looking either. Sort of a likable average-looking nitwit. He has one of those hideous haircuts though. The one with the hair basically shaved around his head with a big pile of unruly hair on top, some of which hangs over the shaved part. Jesus, that's an awful look!
Dawg says, "Heh heh, Dylan, remember that poker game at Devon's house..." and the reminiscing begins. Truth is, I really liked some of the posse boys, well all of them except that John character, wherever he's gotten to. Its fun hearing the exaggerated versions of the things we did that summer. All of us posse boys were always making faces behind our leader, Ray's, back whenever we'd get yelled at by him. Amazingly, Ray is very sociable and self-deprecating tonight though as he joins in with the rest of us making fun of things he did back then. I suppose he likes hearing how all us boys were afraid he'd catch us doing something he didn't want us doing, afraid he'd suspend us for a week. Ray goes, "And I suspended all three of you at one time or another that summer. And in a couple of days, you all came sucking-up to me asking please to get reinstated."
Well, embarrassingly, that's true... we all did that. He was quite the leader though, and he's a year younger than me! Thankfully the fact Ray and I were boyfriends never becomes part of the narrative during our reminiscing. The four of us take turns buying rounds and then, starting with the second round we start including shots of Old Granddad for everyone. A lot of our stories have Ray the brunt of the laughs but he laughs along with the three of us. At one point, a fairly drunk Robby joins us. He stands next to me drinking a beer as we tell some stories about how Ray would always order me to recruit Robby for our posse boy team whenever we played those softball games against other teams for cases of beer.
After a while, Rob pulls over a chair to have a round of shots and beers with us. Then he hooks up with another guy from high school. Obviously, there are lots of guys back from college for Thanksgiving break. As Rob's about to drift off with this dufus-looking guy, he says to me, "Don't leave without me. Dylan." As if I'd ever do that. He stumbles and then looks back to tell me, "Oh, babe, I've already got like at least six guys for the football game Friday." I nod, "Yeah? Good, um, let's get outta here pretty soon though." He waves at me and off he goes. I do not have an optimistic outlook for some sexy messing around in bed tonight.
Then, when Bean's in the lavatory draining his snake and Dawg is at the bar getting us another round of shots and beers, a round of drinks we all need the way fish need bicycles, I'm drunk enough to ask Ray, "So, how come you're not trying to get me in a lavatory stall to fuck my brains out?" He runs the back of his fingers across the short beard at his chin, as he's been annoyingly doing all night, and then says, "Because I've got an obedient, albeit overweight boyfriend who I love... plus a girlfriend who fucks so good I sometimes forget to fuck Brian. I'm what some losers would call sexually satisfied and I'm quite pleased about it too." I mumble, "Good for you." He pats the back of my hand, saying, "Don't be too disappointed though, if I get much drunker I might still give you a break and take you in the lavatory to give you what you want and need... but pretend you don't." I go, "Very unlikely, Raymond... very unlikely!" He sneers, "Nobody has ever fucked you as good as me and you know it!"
Fuck, as drunk as I am, I almost admit he's partially right about all of that. Jesus though, he's working pretty hard at being the neighborhood asshole. Well, few guys are more confident than Ray, I gotta give him that. And that's true whether he's right or wrong about... whatever. And then there's that mushroom head on his eight-inch humongous penis. This fat boyfriend of his, Brian, must have as special an ass as mine... and, oh man, can Ray ever fuck good with that monster of a cock! Well, I'm happy for both his boyfriend and his girlfriend. Everybody deserves a good fuck and Ray's the guy who delivers. Huh, maybe I am disappointed I'm no longer the number one guy in Massachusetts Ray wants to fuck. I'm losing it I guess... heh heh.
For something to say, I go, "Yeah, it was nice seeing Sonny and his motorcycle pal, Squirrel, yesterday. Oh, and Sonny speaks highly of you, Ray." Ray finishes off Bean's untouched shot of bourbon and mumbles, "I see too much of Sonny to suit me. I think I only saw that black kid once though... that Squirrel kid." Oh, so Squirrel is black. I thought he might be Hispanic. I go, "Yeah, and Sonny told me you'd take me back as one of your minor boyfriends if I apologized and asked you nicely. So, would you, um, assuming I did those extremely unlikely two things?" He laughs out loud and then says, "Well, hell, I might have last summer, but not now. You missed your chance with me. I gave you a chance or two that summer and, fuck, then last summer too if you'll recall. You being a stuck up loser, of course, fucked up every chance I gave you, although I admit you were an okay boyfriend for a couple of months when you did what the fuck you were told. Your big ego eventually fucked you up again though so I had to dump you, which I did unceremoniously." I can't help but chuckle. Oh, brother, he talks about my ego! I mumble, "Ge Get many facts wrong, Ray?" He goes, Huh?"
Finishing my beer, I'm grinning, "So, Ray, you're saying it's too late for me to be one of your boyfriends again?" Ray looks at me and goes, "You're worth a second chance but I already gave you that plus a couple of other chances, dummy. Don't you listen?" He's too egomaniacal to realize I'm just breaking his balls. He goes on pontificating, "I don't give unlimited chances for losers like you no matter how cute and sexy you are." I go, "You aren't taking yourself a little bit too seriously, are you, Ray? Any chance of that?" He goes, "No, but maybe if you shoot me a text Friday, and the timing works out for me okay, I'll give you a fuck for old time sake. Don't think it would mean any more than a mercy fuck though. I already told you, you've had all the chances with me you're gonna get." Nodding my head, I'm like, "Nope, you definitely don't take yourself too seriously."
Dawg is back with two beers and two shots, all four glasses held together with both hands and Bean's behind him with two more shots and beers. Dawg asks, "Who takes themselves too seriously?" Ray goes, "Nobody is talking to you, doggie."
I don't know, but maybe if the circumstances were a lot better and I was a lot drunker I'd take Ray up on that fuck. I was wrong earlier... even though at times tonight he's been more overbearing than usual, which is saying something right there, he still has that mysterious sexy something that can get me sexually aroused in a mysterious way. It's my attraction to dominant confident guys probably. No one fucks like he does for one thing, or is as dominantly confident as he is when he's doing the fucking. Those qualities of Ray's still resonate with me no matter how obnoxious he is. Yeah, if only he weren't such an unbearable dick!
We close the bar at two o'clock in the morning and gratefully Sharky's Bar is only five miles from home so I make the drive safely with Robby falling instantly asleep as soon as he gets in the pickup. How he can fall asleep instantly like that I've never understood. He once fell asleep at a bar. I was telling him something and looked over to see he's sleeping on a half-eaten cheeseburger platter.
In the house, Rob's mumbling something that doesn't make any sense but with a little help from me, he manages to do what he needs to in the bathroom and then I take care of myself. We get in bed wearing underpants only and both fall asleep quickly. Before that, I was smiling to myself because I enjoyed the trip down memory lane with a few of the posse boys even though Ray is still a major asshole. The one big negative of the night, a negative that took me by surprise is I didn't see a single guy in that bar, except Robby, who I thought was cute or good looking enough to look at twice. That's disturbing!
Oh, I also give a thought to what a crazy summer that posse boy summer was, especially the part with Ray and me. Now I'm realizing something else too, and it's that my musings about getting it on with Ray tonight if a miracle happened and the circumstances were better and so forth... that was the booze part of my brain talking. No way I'd do that with Ray again under any circumstances!
My very last thought of the night is about tomorrow being Thanksgiving which means dinners with both families. Rob and I need to be on our toes too, you know, so neither family feels we're not a hundred percent invested in their festivities... and we're both gonna be hung-over like a motherfucker. Omigod, good luck to us!
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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