Dylans Senior Year at College

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter 55

by. Donny. Mumford

Rob and I are driving back to college as we've done twenty times before but this time it feels different. I don't know, it feels kind of eerie and ominous somehow. I'm looking out the window as we go down Route 93 thinking that, and then Rob sort of reads my mind. He wistfully says, "We just finished the last college spring 'break' of our lives, babe." Huh, that's what's different, there are no more spring 'breaks'... ever. Not only college but we've had a spring break through twelve years of schooling and then four years of college and now there are no more spring breaks in our lives. That's probably subconsciously why I'm feeling strange about it. Looking over at Rob, I say, "You're right, but that's okay. We'll have some kind of breaks while working, right?"

Rob goes, "Yeah, if you wanna consider a two-week vacation a 'break', and there are ten holidays we'll get off as well." I'm like, "Two weeks? That's all the vacation time Dickers & Son allows their hard-working employees? Two weeks a year?" Robby goes, "Yes, that's it for the first five years. If you want more vacation ya gotta work in Europe." I go, "Oh yeah? How much time off do they get?" Rob says, "By law, European Union countries get a minimum of four weeks a year paid vacation."

That sounds more reasonable. I'm like, "Yeah, that seems fair, but you're saying there's a law over there about vacations? Jeez, that seems like an odd law. How about a small business that only has a couple of employees and they can't afford to lose four weeks of work?" Rob shrugs, "Jeez, I don't know babe. Tough shit for them, I guess." I mumble, "Hmm, and I suppose you're going to tell me we don't get summers off either." He laughs, and says, "Yeah, the horror! Haha, nope, no more summers off after college... um, unless you're a school teacher." I mumble, "Ah ha, yeah, that's probably why Danny chose that career path." Rob's like, "I doubt he's thought it through as far as next summer." I'm not commenting on that snarky comment. If you ask me I think Danny planned out what he'll be doing after college pretty fucking well.

It's a little after five o'clock when we're back in the apartment. That's too late to do anything except carrying our stuff in, take a piss, and then unpack our stuff and put it away. After that, we're sharing a Snapple as Rob says, "Let's walk around the campus a little, just walk around for the hell of it." I thought he was going to say he wanted to stop in at the ballpark. I go, "Yeah, sure."

We drive on campus to do that although the weather is not great for a walk. It's like forty-some-degrees and windy making it seem colder. We're big boys though so we dressed for it. Strolling around campus we're smoking cigarettes in no-smoking areas, and not caring 'cause we're not the only ones doing it. The dormitory students are hurrying to their dining halls so there's quite a bit of activity. Rob yells out to some guys and then the shy kid who always sits next to me at Wednesday's lecture hall scoots by touching my arm, saying, "Hi, Dylan." I nod at him but can't remember his name. I mean his first name... his last name is Foster, but I didn't want to call him that. I think he has a crush on me and actually, he does just barely qualify as 'cute' in the goofy-cute category of my mind. Skinny guy with a SuperCut haircut and eyeglasses like Connor's. I'd bang him if I ever get the chance or, haha, it'd be more fun if he fucked me. I can tell he couldn't pull that off though. Dennis! That's his first name... Dennis Foster.

Rob asks, "What about Dennis Foster?" I'm like, "Oh, did I say that out loud? He just walked by." Rob goes, "Yeah, I know... what about him?" I shrug, "I'd bang him," and Robby laughs, muttering, "No shit. Who wouldn't you 'bang'?" I make a face at him, saying, "You're my man, Rob, so I ain't banging anyone." He goes, "Good," Mostly we're talking about what we need to do the next couple of days. No class tomorrow so all we really need to do is read over our notes from last Tuesday's class and we'll be good to go for this Tuesday's class.

Academically we're in great shape anyway, no stress there. As we walk, Rob's looking at his schedule for games and says, "I've got a game tomorrow, Monday, and then games on Thursday and Saturday." I nod but don't have anything to say about that... what could I say? He mutters, "Hmm, the remainder of the baseball season there are at least three games a week." I'm not a fan of baseball season because I don't see a lot of Robby.

Putting the schedule in his back pocket, he says, "If I ever start hitting for power again, I'd feel a lot better about all these games coming up." I go, "You'll do fine, Robby. It's the same every year... you get off to a slow start and then...boom!" He hasn't hit for shit the first six games so he'll almost surely be at the voluntary workout tomorrow morning. Ironically it's Carl, his mentee, who's in competition for Rob's shortstop position on the team. Carl's been hitting the shit out of the ball at practice. Tomorrow it's a four-hour bus ride for the baseball team to and from the college they're playing somewhere in western Massachusetts. Bottom line, tomorrow is pretty much all about the baseball team for Rob.

He asks, "What are you gonna do tomorrow, babe? Any plans?" Stepping on my cigarette butt, I'm like, "No plans, and ya know what, I'm actually looking forward to doing... nothing." He mumbles, "That's what I'd do if I didn't have a game tomorrow."

We go in the Quad, buy soft drinks and then sit with some guys we know. Everyone's exchanging tales of spring break except two of the guys who stayed home during the break. That isn't as rare as you might think, not for seniors. Vacation spots can be expensive and then spring break gets to be 'old hat' by the time senior year rolls around. For the most part, spring breaks are seven days of questionable behavior while drinking way too much and then dealing with brutal hangovers every morning. Ya know, after doing that three years in a row it loses some of its allure for some. It did for Rob and me, but not for Chubby and many others. Different strokes for different folks, and all that...

It's almost seven o'clock when Rob drives us back to the apartment where we order a pizza for dinner. We're tired and the bloody Marys at my mom's condo have worn off leaving us feeling 'blah'. We're not hungover as much as we're both feeling beat up. We eat the pizza and then spend twenty minutes going over our notes for Tuesday's class and then watch TV for a while. Then it's early to bed for us. No sex tonight and no need to discuss it either because we never feel pressured to have, or not have sex. Rob and I are perfectly in sync in that regard.

Monday morning though, well by then we're feeling differently and so, without a lot of foreplay or conversation, we have a rough and tumble fuck that leaves us both sweating. After catching our breath we shower together and do 'it' again in the shower, this time goofing around and giggling like teenagers who are doing 'it' for the first time. Lots of goofy screwing around until we get seriously into the actual sex act itself. Omigod, what a great climax I have and then watch it swirl around the drain before disappearing forever. That was fun-sex just for the hell of it! The earlier one was more about need.

Anyway, sex has us both in a good mood. We make breakfast together and then I drive Rob to the ballpark. He won't be back until like eight o'clock tonight so we bump fists with me muttering, "Kick ass, Robby," and Rob goes, "I'm gonna try, babe. See you tonight and, oh.. I'll get a ride to the apartment from Mouse." I've met Mouse once and he's okay. He has an apartment in one of the buildings in our complex and he often gives Rob a ride from the ballpark saving me the trouble. Not that it'd be much trouble anyway, but if I don't need to do it, ya know...

I wasn't gonna do anything today but while driving back to the apartment I change my mind. I'm curious how Pony survived his spring break in Fort Lauderdale. Even though I should know it by now, I can't remember his class schedule so I text him and Pony texts back saying he just got up. I find out his last class finishes at three o'clock today and we make plans that I'll pick him up at the normal spot near dormitory row at three-thirty. Pony texts, 'I got a tale to tell you!'

Yeah, well, I can't wait to hear about that. So, now it's ten o'clock in the morning and I'm back at the apartment making myself another mug of coffee planning to do what I told Robby I was gonna do, and that would be... nothing. Well, except read my book which I do for a couple of hours and then smoke a cigarette on the balcony thinking about lunch.

After defrosting some roasted chicken from the freezer in the microwave. It's a large breast left over from a whole chicken Robby and I had for dinner like two weeks ago and I slice it thinly and make a chicken sandwich with lettuce and mayonnaise. After that, not wanting to, but I do it anyway, I go food shopping. The middle of a weekday is a good time to do the food shopping so I'm pushing one of Stop & Shop's small shopping carts around putting enough food in it to last us a week. As usual, I need to include vegetarian stuff for Carl. Meatless frozen pasta products are good for that, plus the old standby, mac and cheese. Neither Carl nor Robby will be having dinner at the apartment tonight or Saturday night as they'll be at away-games eating on Merrimack's dime with their teammates, so I factor that in.

In the bakery section, I'm looking for a cake treat when someone touches my arm, saying, "Excuse me." Turning my head I see a treat of a different kind... a cute-looking young guy. He has a small shopping cart with quite a few things in it so he's obviously been pushing that cart around as long as I have so... how in the fuck did I miss noticing him? I don't see many legitimately cute guys anymore, which partially could be because I'm not looking for them as conscientiously as I used to. When I do look I'm usually wondering where the fuck all the cute guys got to?

Anyway, this cute guy asks, "Are you a Merrimack student by any chance? I, um, noticed you're wearing a hoodie with their logo, so...I, ah...." He has a baseball cap with what I think is a college logo, but one I don't recognize. Even with the hat, I can tell he has a short haircut. A guy's hair is something I always notice right off, and his short hair is another point in his favor, that plus him being cute. He has blond hair and, yeah, short blond hair is sexy looking if you ask me, and I don't just mean because I have blond hair cut short... it's because, um, oh, never mind.

He's a couple of inches shorter than me and has the prerequisite slim body that attracts my attention but, yeah, it's his cute face that makes me grin a little as I say, "Yeah, I go to Merrimack, Do you?" Ya know, who could be friendlier or more helpful than me, right? The kid holds his hand out, saying, "I'm Richard Mc Guire and, yes, I'll be going to Merrimack next year so, um, how do you like it? You're a freshman, right?" I shake his hand, saying, "Hi! I'm Dylan, nice to meet you. Um, but no, I'm not a freshman. So, you're in high school then?" Another fucking high school student! That kid at Rite Aid, and now this kid. That's where all the cute boys are... in fucking high school! No wonder I'm not spotting them as frequently as I have in the past.

Richard shakes his head, "No, I graduated last year from Milton High. I, um, haha, it's embarrassing to admit but I just got kicked out of Bay State College in Boston. I was commuting from my home in Milton." I'm like, "Oh yeah? What'd ya do to get kicked out of Bay State?" He shrugs, "Oh, a technicality, sort of. Um, I let this homeless girl sort of live with me and my roommate in our dorm for a week... almost a week. Me and Troy, my roommate, took pity on her. It worked out too because we were, ya know, um, fucking her, I guess you could say." Well, fuck... he's straight! Of course, he is...

I go, "Oh, yeah? Well, sorry to say but Merrimack is probably picky about minor rule infractions like that too, but good luck." This guy apparently has a few loose screws. I try turning my small shopping cart around but he holds my arm, saying. "We shouldn't have let her shower in the dorm lavatory, that's where we went wrong." Yeah, it's one of the ways he went wrong. He goes, "Anyway, my 'rents managed to get me in Merrimack for summer classes and then I'll supposedly be enrolling as a sophomore in the fall with my younger brother. He'll be starting as a freshman." I nod my head, mumbling, "Oh? Well, as I said, good luck with that."

But he's not done and he touches my arm again, saying, "My brother and I already have our apartment although he hasn't even graduated high school yet. Heh heh, I guess you could say the 'rents want us out of the house if ya know what I mean." I'm beginning to see why they might. This kid is, um, a little 'off'. I go, "Uh huh, can I help you with something, or...?" He goes, "Yeah, if ya got a second, um, I'd like to pick the brain of a hot-looking dude like yourself. Primarily about the 'snatch' situation on campus. Also, can you fill me in on the date and location of the next frat party? My brother and I will, ya know, heh heh, crash it. I'd like to get a head start on the party scene here if you get my drift."

I can't help but stare a little at his face. What a cute motherfucker, but not a baby-face exactly. He's cutely cool-looking but unfortunately, cute faces don't always come with a functioning brain attached. Sometimes batteries aren't included. I go, "Yeah? Well, I don't live on campus and I never joined a fraternity, so..."

He nods and shrugs, like, 'Oh, that's too bad, but whaddya gonna do? We all can't be winners... meaning I'm not one. Trying another tactic, he goes, "That's too bad. So, where's your apartment? Maybe we can..." Hmm, I need to shock this cute fucker, so I interrupt him to say, "Yeah, me and my long-time boyfriend are living in one of those apartments across from the college." I'm hoping the 'boyfriend' reference will get this loose cannon moving on. When you think about it, what a waste that most guys are straight, including most of the cute ones. He goes, "Oh, so you're gay, huh? Dude, no problem! I can roll that way too." Oh, shit! My high-alert warning system is going BEEP BEEP BEEP announcing... 'this guy is trouble'.

When I offer no response to his sort of offer, he goes, "So far college has sucked the big one but I'm hopeful Merrimack changes my mind about that, although I'm not what ya might call optimistic." I say, "Being in a committed relationship myself, I'm the wrong person to ask about campus hook-up possibilities and I don't know about any frat parties. And, dude, I'm graduating in like six weeks so that shit isn't on my radar screen anymore. Sorry, but a good looking savvy dude like you won't have a problem with either sex, um, getting some." How's that for a polite way to blow him off?

He nods, "Thanks, man! Jesus, you're graduating, huh? Fuck, I thought you were a freshman. Shit, and here I was thinking you'd be perfect as my wingman next year. The two of us could have hooked-up and ravished both the boys and girls on campus and this town too." I go, "As thrilling a possibility as that sounds I, alas, am graduating, as you are now aware, and then there's my boyfriend who may have thrown a monkey wrench into me being your wingman ravishing, um, everyone." Unsaid is, Rob might also have rearranged this pretty boy's face and then tied his dick in a knot.

The guy grins and, oh fuck, he's another one with a killer cute sexy grin and he has the kind of teeth that I find boyishly cute too. To me, teeth with little spaces between them are so boyishly-cute, ya know? Oh well, this isn't what I need to get myself involved with so I want to tell him but to hit the road, damn I've already forgotten his name. He remembers mine, saying, "Don't you mess around at all, Dylan? C'mon, everybody messes around a little bit, right? I could tell Mickey, he's my brother, tell him to take a walk around the block if I can interest you in joining me exploring one another's bodies, and you're looking sexy super-hot I might add. Hope I'm not being too presumptuous asking this but... do you 'top' or 'bottom'?"

Omigod! I snort out a laugh at the balls on this kid. Casually pulling my arm from his grasp, I mumble, "Ya really need to get over this shyness problem you seem to have. I mean, if you're expecting to score regularly on campus." He laughs out loud and then says, "No, I've never been shy. The worst that can happen is I hear the word 'no'. My feelings don't get hurt though... I keep trying." Yeah, I can see that.

It's not in my makeup to insult a creature as cute as this one, so I say, "Ya know, if I met you last year we'd probably have had a helluva go of it. I 'top' or 'bottom', but I far prefer to 'bottom'. Too bad I'm graduating, huh?" He's like, "Holy shit, I'll say! Let's do it one time anyway. I'd love to nail a cute ass like yours and..." with a mischievous grin, he adds, "I could fuck you for an hour. Do you suck dick?" I go, "Yeah, I do, but sadly, not yours. I gotta go, but you've brightened my day." See how nice I am?

He's not easily discouraged as he smiles brightly, saying, "Let me give you my phone number. Ya might change your mind." I mutter, "No, I don't want to do that, um, I forget your name..." and he says, "I'm Richard," and I complete my sentence, "I don't wanna do that, Richard, 'cause you're too tempting. I'm trying to wean myself of irresistible guys like yourself. Clear my head, ya know, and be faithful to my boyfriend?" He goes, "Well, I gotta tell you, I've never been rejected in such a nice manner before. It was great meeting you and I'll hate myself all afternoon for letting you get away." I go, "Did ya get the homeless girl's phone number?" He laughs out loud again and, as I'm pushing my cart away, he says, "No, the bitch didn't have a cell phone."

Jesus! Omigod, haha! If I were a year younger, ya know? He's wicked cute but crazily unbalanced, although eager. It'd be like taking advantage of the handicapped though. Oh man, this is something I should brag to Robby about. The way I said 'no' to someone as cute as, um, what was his name? I can't brag about it though because it might beg the question: how many cute nut-cases over the years haven't I say 'no' to? Fuck that. Trying to get my mind back on more important matters, I adjust my firm dick and then circle back to do what I started to do... check out the cakes.

Hmm, the cakes in the display case all look beautiful and delicious, but looks can deceive you. Yeah, the problem with grocery store cakes is they mostly suck! The icing is for shit and they cost way too much. So why am I looking at these cakes? Well, because they look good. Using self-control, I mutter, "Fuck it," and push the cart to a self check out register. And, yeah, I can't help myself, I'm glancing around looking for that kid. Could I resist him, crazy or not, if he asked twice? Probably not because I think I'm actually hoping he asks again. I'd like to be fucked for an hour now that I've had time to think about it.

He doesn't reappear though, probably looking for another homeless person. I check out and pay with my debit card saving the registry slip 'cause Robby owes me for half the cost of these groceries. Back at the apartment, I'm putting the groceries away thinking how I was gonna do 'nothing' today but I've already done a number of things. It's impossible to do nothing. The things I did though were different from the things I'd have done last year. Yeah, in previous years with my free time I'd be more like that cute crazy kid casually checking out possibilities for fun side sex. I've never been as forward about it as he was... no way. I'll bet he has a lot of success, especially considering he's doubled his chances for success swinging both ways.

Yes, 'free-time' like I have today was more or less all about boy-watching-time for me in the past. I was always ready for a side sex partner, even crazy ones if they were as cute as that guy. Yeah, adventure, excitement, and sexual variety... and with no strings attached, and more often than not they were one-time encounters. And, yes, as I've admitted many times I'm oversexed, but I don't blame myself for that, nor do I find it a bad thing necessarily. I'm still oversexed but I've got it more under control and I'm less frivolous about it now.

So, apparently, I'm taking life a little more seriously of late although I'm not exactly sure when that attitude adjustment happened. I've mostly enjoyed myself though and, hell, I still like sex just as much as I ever did but my drive to search out willing new sex partners has obviously weakened. I mean, obviously, it's weakened! Christ, it sure has if I said 'no' to that cutie... but seriously, duh, he demonstrated all the possibilities of being way more trouble than I need at this point in my life. I've been there and done that, and I mean for five solid years. And, anyway, Rob's and my sex life has developed to the degree I'm rarely horny and therefore I lack the motivation of days gone by, the days of old when my eyes invited interested guys to the party.

Even though I'm rationalizing the shit out of me saying 'no' to that kid, it is actually true that in my old age the convenience factor matters a great deal to me. Danny and Pony are convenient, but that's not to diminish how much they mean to me. They're both excellent sex buddies. Danny's a primo 'top' and I also get to 'top' a really good 'bottom' named Pony, who loves to bottom... a true win/win situation for all of us, um, all three of us. Three actually isn't much of an 'all' though, is it?

To further rationalize my pussy behavior with that kid, I can think of a few recent side-sex experiences I've had along the way that proves I haven't retired from side sex activities completely. A lot fewer of them than in the past, obviously, and most of the exceptions are convenient ones like Sonny for example, and then the unexpected ones like Mr. Trimbole but it's just different for me now. I no longer feel I need to 'catch up' because of never having sex until I was seventeen when I, fortunately, fell under the spell of that other Carl in high school. The 'catching up' used to be true but I've caught up by now, ya might say. After saying all that, my dick is tingling as I sit in the idling pickup in Stop & Shop's parking lot watching to see if the loony-tunes kid comes out. Was it Richard, was that his name? I soon shake my head, disgusted with myself, and drive away.

At the apartment, I put the groceries away and then have a smoke on the balcony trying to get that kid out of my head. Yeah, he took his hat off there for a second and his hair was cut almost exactly like Danny cut my hair last time. I can see our two blond crewcut heads in close proximity as he fucked my ass for an hour! Ya just know a confident cute guy like that has a cock he's proud to show around. Haha, oh man!

Later, I'm sitting in the idling pickup again, this time at dormitory row happily anticipating topping my buddy, Pony. Yeah, okay... I'm not in a sweaty lather about it but sex is fun and ya don't need to be in a sweaty lather of anticipation to have fun with it. Sex is one of the joys about being a human being. I mean as opposed to the other animals on the planet who mindlessly fuck when their programming, their genes I suppose, compel them to. Um, ya know, when it's their time of the year to procreate another muskrat or elephant or whatever. Yes, the animal kingdom copulates mostly from imperatives passed on by their genes. Sure, there is some masturbating for fun going on by animals that have hands, and there's some homosexual behavior as well, but mostly it's gene-motivated-reproduction initiative and not sex for the fun of it. There aren't any hippopotamuses on a lark looking for a cute hippo to party with. That sexy fun is only for us, the lucky human animals. Of course, animals aren't aware they're gonna die either, so they've got one less stress in their lives than us.

And here comes Pony now. He yanks open the passenger door and while getting in, exclaims, "Hi, Dylan!" We do an awkward hug over the gear shift between the bucket seats as I mutter, "Hi, Pony. How'd your Lauderdale trip go?" He's like, "Well, after texting with you last week I 'came out' as gay... so whaddya think about that?" My eyes open wide as I go, "You're kidding!" and as I drive out of the parking lot, he says, "No, I'm not kidding. Why would I kid about that?" Such a literal boy!

We're going back to the apartment 'cause Donald, Pony's roommate is studying in his room. I'm like, "Who'd you 'come out' to?" Pony says, "First, I came 'out' to Max." I'm like, "Max Kellerman? Your fuck buddy?" He goes, "Nooo! I mean yes, um, I came out to him, yes, but he's not my fuck buddy. He's not gay. I told him I was though." I'm like, "And?" Pony goes, "Oh, he just shrugged and said, 'so what?' and then he laughed and said, "Do ya wanna blow me?" I look at him, expecting more. He says, "We shared a room in Fort Lauderdale. Max is awesome!"

Crossing Route 114 and then driving onto the apartment complex's main road, I'm like, "Christ, that's a good start at coming 'out', Daryl! Did ya tell anyone else?" He nods, "Yep, I didn't stop there. I was on a roll and told like five guys at this huge concert on the beach. Oh man, at that beach party they had this killer DJ too. Holy shit, it was rocking!" I'm like, "Yeah? You knew the guys on the beach, right? The ones you came 'out' to." He shakes his head, "Fuck, no! I never saw 'em before in my life. I was drunk and when I told them I was gay and they just looked at me and this one guy, um, his Adam's apple was as big as a real apple, he goes, "Dude, you're fucking drunk!"

I yell, "Pony, that's not 'coming out'!" He shrugs, "It's a start. Max pulled me away from those guys and we were laughing our nuts off. What a fucking blast!" Jesus, I gotta chuckle at that. As I'm parking the pickup outside the apartment building, I'm still chuckling at Pony's enthusiasm. It's so much better hearing him excited about something rather than his sort of hang-dog attitude that I see from him too often.

Turning in the seat to look at him, I ask, "Well, did you?" He's like, "Did I what?" I go, "Blow Max when he asked?" His face gets red as he goes, "How the fuck did you guess that? Yeah, I did. Three times but he wouldn't fuck me." Keeping things on the positive side, I mutter, "Oh, well, that's too bad but then, you like doing oral sex... that must have been pretty good." He turns up the excitement level, saying, "Oh wait! Oh, man, Dylan, wait' ll you hear this. This is was I meant in my text... the tale I gotta tell you. You but no one else."

We're still sitting in the truck. I go, "Oh, yeah. I wanna hear this." He goes, "I got fucked so hard the day before we left Fort Lauderdale... oh God, it was both awesome and painful. This dude, it turned out he's thirty-four. Oh man, he whacked me around and then up and down." I'm frowning, "Who was he? Thirty-four-year-old man, you said?" Pony nods, "Yeah, he works for the motel as a, I don't know, the handyman I guess. He pulled my boxer shorts off... ripped the fuckers, but I didn't care."

We get out of the truck and I go, "Start from the beginning, Pony. Where were you when he rips your shorts?" Pony goes, "Let me tell you... this dude, his name was Barnard, he came right out and asked me, 'Are you queer, four eyes? Yeah, he was one mean confident motherfucker." Walking inside the building, I'm like, "Pony, are you making this shit up?" He looks hurt I would even ask that, saying, "No, Dylan! I was getting ice from the motel's ice machine. It was on the first floor and our room was on the second. Two double beds so I didn't get to sleep with Max." I'm like, "Forget that. What about the handyman?"

He goes, "Um, well, um, Barnard comes up behind me at the ice machine. I thought he was gonna fix something but instead, he pats my ass and then holds onto it asking me ... 'Hey, four-eyes, are you queer?' Just like that. I was frozen in front of the fucking ice machine. Me and the machine... both frozen. And then, with his hand still on my ass, he leaned against me and asks me again, 'Are you queer, four-eyes?'" I'm frustrated, saying, "Yes, I got that part, Pony. What'd you say?" He's like, "Dylan. I got a boner 'cause this guy was sexy! Not cute or good looking, but sexy." Jesus, it's like pulling teeth getting this story out of him.

Outside my apartment, I'm getting my key out, muttering, "If you're bullshitting me, stop talking now!" Shaking his head, he's like, "I'm not bullshitting! Fuck it though, if you don't want to hear it..." Inside, I go, "I didn't say I didn't wanna hear it. What happened next?" I take his arm and sort of lead him to the kitchen where I take his horn-rimmed glasses off, muttering, "How can you see out of these things? They're totally smudged." He shrugs as I spray Windex on his glasses and then grab a paper towel. He asks, "Do you wanna hear this?" I nod, "Go ahead, yeah, I wanna hear it."

He says, "Well, this dude asks me if I'm queer and I just gulped with my dick getting hard 'cause he wouldn't take his hand off my ass." I'm like, "What the fuck did you say when he asked you that?" He shrugs, "What could I say? I said what anyone would say. I went, 'How'd you know?'" Jesus!

I'm like, "You shouldn't have... um, what happened after that?" Pony rubs his junk and says, "Well, he squeezed my ass with me standing there holding the ice bucket. I finally turned around and he grabbed my arm and I was looking right into his eyes. Oh wait, first I gulped and asked him how he knew, then he squeezed my ass and then I turned around." I'm like, "Uh huh," and he goes, "I'm looking him right in his eyes 'cause believe it or not, I wasn't scared. He nodded his big head like he had his answer about am I gay or not, and he pulled me away from the ice machine and sort of lifted me by my am so I was sort of walking on my fucking tiptoes as he guides me into a utility room next to the ice machine. That's what the sign said on the door 'Utility Room'." I'm nodding, "Yeah, whatever. What happened then? What'd you say this guy looked like? He had a big head?" I'm cleaning his glasses, getting invested in his story. Something in Pony's manner is making me believe him.

Pony goes, "I already told you he wasn't hot looking or good looking but he was tall and built like a fucking football player... big, ya know, but not fat. He wore glasses too." I go, "Uh-huh," and I hold his glasses out. Pony takes his clean glasses from my fingers and puts them on. Huh, ya know what? Even though I'm used to seeing Pony wearing these glasses, I still don't think eyeglasses and flattop haircuts belong on the same head! That's just my opinion.

He goes, "And he was wearing like a uniform. The kind maintenance guys or a guy from the gas company wear with a name over the pocket. That's how I knew his name was Barnard. Anyway, he never lets go of my arm, and it was hurting 'cause he was squeezing it. Inside this small room, he flicks on a light and kicks the door closed behind him. Oh, and he also had a beard and long hair. It was black but streaked with gray." I'm like, "Are you sure he wasn't older?" Pony makes a 'face' and mutters, "That's what he said, thirty-four when I asked him. First, he asked me if I wanted to get fucked a new asshole and I was like 'Oh yeah, can you do that?'. See... I wasn't scared." I go, "I can't fucking imagine why you weren't. The guy was unattractive, old, mean, and probably disturbed in the head. You should have been scared." He rubs his nose with the fingers of one hand and squeezes his junk with the other while muttering, "He was okay. I'm not telling it right. Plus, ya know, I hadn't been fucked for like ten days. Ya know, the last time we did it was my last time. Blowing Max helped, but not that much...."

I'm opening a bottle of beer, holding it up at Pony but he shakes his head and says, "No, thanks." I'm like, "Well, go on," and he says, "So after I agreed with Barnard that he could fuck me a new asshole, that's when he yanked my shorts down and ripped then. It's a tear at the waistband that I was thinking maybe could be repaired. He was a strong motherfucker, ya know?"

Swallowing some beer I nod my head, encouraging him to go on and he's like, "His hair was like shoulder length. Did I tell you that?' I nod, and he goes, "Yeah, and his long hair fell against the side of my neck when he rubbed the side of his whiskery face against mine. That's when he turned me around, pulled down my shorts and ripped my boxers when he yanked them down. It was like he got pissed or something. It was a little rip at first and I was thinking mom could sew them, ya know, but then he just tore my underpants in half... just ripped them in half. He used both hands I guess and just ripped them down the back in one rip. I heard the ripping sound and they're totally ruined now. I threw them out." I nod, "Uh huh, never mind your ripped undies. What'd he do next?" He goes, "Omigod, I had a boner, ya know, and when he sort of rubbed the side of his face against mine he saw it, he saw my boner so he knew he was doing the right things, I guess. I just stood there all jittery, but aroused like mad! And, as I told you, I was strangely unafraid but I guess I was nervous too, ya know?" I mutter, "Anticipating what was coming next, huh?" He mumbles, "Yeah, wouldn't you be anticipating?"

Christ, I'm getting a little aroused myself. Pony walks around and sits at the bar with his right hand out of sight below the bar probably groping himself and I don't blame him. He's on the living room side of the bar and I'm behind the bar on the kitchen side as he goes, "So, Dylan, this guy had his left arm around the front of my neck pulling my head back against him, his scratchy whisker-beard against the side of my face and all. Um, his other hand was fondling my cock and balls. My dick was pretty hard but my nuts were just hanging there. I got so fucking turned-on it was sick! His fingers were rough-feeling, like hard or rough sandpaper or maybe something was stuck on them. They were dirty too, now that I think about it. Anyway, his thumb and forefinger stroked my cock with pre-cum dripping out. My cock was wood but I was limp against Barnard, sort of in a world of my own. He kissed my cheek and licked there and then licked my ear and put his wet lips on my ear telling me I was the cutest hottest queer in Fort Lauderdale." I'm like, "He kept saying 'queer'?" Pony goes, "Yeah, he never asked my name."

I go, "Huh? What did you say to him."? Pony shrugs, "I forget. Oh, no, wait... I asked him how he knew. Ya know, how'd he know I was gay and he said he could just tell and then he told me again how cute and hot I am. Ya know, the side his face is snuggling against mine and our eyeglasses are bumping together with mine siding down my nose... and ya know what he did?" I shake my head, and Pony goes, "He reached his hand, um, the hand from the arm around my neck. He used his index finger to push my glasses up my nose. His hand smelled like, um, like he'd just emptied the trash or picked up something nasty. Anyway, by now I had the hardest boner I've ever had in my life and he did five fast strokes on it with those big hard fingers of his while he kept nuzzling against the side of my face and I felt his hard cock against my ass and Omigod! He had my body totally pulled back against his to the degree I was halfway up on my toes again and his boner felt fat as it poked down my ass crack, but it was still in his pants."

Subtly, I press on my dick 'cause the head somehow got stuck in the leg opening of my underpants. Without being obvious about it I'm able to move it away from there a little as Pony goes, "I shuddered, Dylan. My whole fucking body just shuddered like I got shot by one of those things the cops shoot you with and then the guy falls down on the ground shaking uncontrollably... I shuddered like that. When I shuddered he whispered, 'Don't you dare cum yet, ya queer four-eyed faggot.' I mumble, "A redundant bastard, huh?" and Pony goes, "Huh?"

He asks, "You mean his name-calling? Hell, I like when guys are tough like this guy and especially when they call me humiliating names. I almost shot my load right then too." I mutter, "Jeez, did he smell bad? I mean, you said his hand smelled like garbage." Pony shakes his head, "No, I didn't. I said his hand smelled like trash, not garbage. Um, he was draped all over me but, other than his hand, he smelled... hmm, well actually I guess it was sort of an overall BO smell, but kinda manly and sexy too, ya know? Yeah, when he moved his arms he had BO bad, but as I said it smelled sexy and manly and strong and macho. Whew, now that you mention it though... it wasn't all that pleasant. I think it's because there wasn't much air in that little room. No breeze at all, but I didn't mind at the time."

I'm nodding my head, "Uh huh," and Pony says, "Ya know what, Dylan, I will have a beer now if you don't mind." Jesus Christ! I grab a beer from the refrigerator, twist off the cap and hand it to him as he grins, saying, "I'm planning ahead, Dylan. If I drink some of this beer I'll avoid your beer breath and I know you're going to want to kiss me, so..." Can I believe this shit? He's got a BO trash man all over him and that's no problem. Beer-breath though... big problem.

I don't want to get him off track though, so I nod, "Yeah, whatever. What'd the trash man do next?" He thinks and says, "Well, did I mention he had stiff hair on his arms like a fucking bear. Stiff hair like I couldn't believe on his arms." I make a 'face' and Pony goes, "Um, anyway, somehow we got face to face again and then I noticed his beard was longer than I first thought. I mean when he got me turned around and we were face to face his beard then became mostly what I noticed because, like you, he was into kissing me the same way you do it." I go, "Hold it right there, Pony! I seriously fucking doubt the experience was anything like us doing it." He shrugs, "Well, he was kissing my mouth and then he sounded mean telling me I needed to participate. He told me, "kiss me back ya four-eyed queer or I'll spank the shit out of your shinny ass'."

I go, "How do you remember what he said?" Pony shrugs, "I don't exactly, but it was something like that although, um, he wasn't as polite as I'm making him sound." I mutter, "He wears glasses too you said, but yet he calls you 'four-eyes'?" Pony's exasperated, "Yeah, he did." I nod and prompt him by saying, "He told you to kiss back," and Pony goes, "Oh, yeah. Well, I was like, 'Huh?' and then, Dylan, that strong fucker slapped my bare ass five times fast. Holy fuck! It hurt so much it burned in my brain! Let me tell you something, Dylan, that guy knows how to spank hard. Five smacks and my eyes were watering." Nodding, I'm like, "Un huh, go on," and Pony's like, "Well, I struggled and yelped... not that it did any good. He was like ten times too strong for me. His big hard hand felt like a fucking board or something against my bare ass. It was stinging and burning like a motherfucker!"

I mutter, "Exaggerate much, Pony? Guess you'll want me to get a board next time." He snickers and goes, "But seriously, this was some serious shit. My ass was on fire! Obviously, Barnard did not appreciate my struggling and he got an arm around my back and lifted me right off the fucking floor and, whack, whack, whack! he spanked me some more and I got the sniffles a little because it really hurt. I was fucking crying, okay? You would have been crying too!"

I go, "I'm not criticizing you, Pony. What'd he do next?" He shrugs, "Fuck, I stopped struggling and he stopped spanking me and called me a pussy cunt for crying. I wanted to leave by then but I was off the floor a couple of inches. He was still holding me up with one arm and, I don't know, maybe from reflexes or something, my arms went around his neck so I wouldn't fall. Dumb, I know! I was only two fucking inches off the floor but my mind was playing tricks on me and, oh yeah, he stuck a finger up my smacked ass too and said something about me asking for it or something like that. No, he said... I wanted it bad."

I mutter, "Jesus," and Pony goes, "So, after getting spanked I still had part of my boner. I didn't need or want to be spanked that hard again, um, so when he kissed me I did what I was told and I was kissing him back like mad. I did it with my eyes closed though 'cause like I said, he wasn't good looking and up that close... you might be right, he could have been forty-or-fifty-something years old."

Eww, gross! I don't want to slow Pony down though, so I don't comment. He swallows a tiny bit of beer, makes a face at the taste, and says, "So that went on for a while and the kissing was disgusting so my dick lost its boner status. Totally flaccid penis flopping in the breeze. Well, actually it wasn't flopping anywhere it was pressed against something kinda sharp, his belt buckle I think." I gulp some beer as Pony mutters, "His mouth tasted like a couple of days old tuna fish. My ass hurt from the spanking which is a different kind of hurt that getting fucked up the ass and I was kinda losing interest until he stopped kissing and lifted me up further to sit me on a workbench with my shorts at my ankles and my ripped in half boxers hanging off my foot."

I ask, "How long did all this take?" He shrugs, "Three or four minutes. This motherfucker lifting me onto that workbench like I weighed ten pounds." I'm frowning, "He sat you on a workbench? What the fuck for?" Pony goes, "I guess 'cause I was a convenient height for him to bend over and suck my cock and balls into his mouth 'cause that's what he did and I mean he sucked them in with this huge tongue under my nuts and, swish, everything was in his tuna fishy mouth! And, holy shit my hands were grabbing his long hair and pulling it like mad. His mouth felt like three sets of big lips and three tongues and I was leaning forward with fistfuls of his greasy hair, gasping and moaning... fuck, I hardly ever get my dick sucked, and then this guy with what felt like two or three mouths on him... three tuna fish mouths! Oh man, I didn't last a minute. When he was sucking my junk I thought, and I'm not trying to be funny, I thought he totally swallowed my cock and balls. I watched his Adam's apple bob and I thought... there goes my dick, my balls are probably goners too'. My entire package was in his big mouth and I never felt his teeth. Amazing! I shot off this wicked long stream of cum and squirmed and squealed like a fucking cunt. I sounded, even to myself, like a girl screaming when I came. I was like, 'Eeeeee!"

All I can do is mutter, "God..." and he goes, "Yeah, and I can tell you all this, Dylan, because you're my best friend and you won't tell anyone, but I acted like a girl from then on with Barnard. I was a total pussy and did whatever he said. He swallowed my cum and then pulled my head down and his tongue was in my mouth again with me kissing back and trying to lick his disgusting fishy tongue. I was still on the bench and he had me bent so far forward I thought I was gonna fall off and land on my fucking head!"

He takes another sip of beer, and says, "Then he pulled me off the bench and forces me to my knees. I say forces me, but I went right down with the slightest touch on my head. Oh, and get this! He said he liked my haircut... the flattop. Yeah, he said he had a flattop in the Marines." I go, "No, shit?" Pony nods, "Yeah, anyway when I'm on my knees with my dick starting to feel heavy again, Barnard told me to open his fly and get his cock out. I did that immediately and then, without being told, I started right in licking and sucking that big penis of his." I'm like, "How big?" and he snorts out a chuckle, muttering, "It was a lot bigger than yours if that's what you're wondering." I mutter, "I wasn't wondering that. I simply asked how big it was?" He says, "Um, let's just say maybe twice as big as yours," and I go, "Now I know you're lying!" He looks me in the eyes, saying, "I swear to God, Dylan, it was like a foot long and it got hard fast too!"

I actually am believing this because Pony, no offense to him intended, but he doesn't have the imagination to make a story like this up... he just doesn't. I hesitantly ask, "I'm not sure I want to know, but I gotta ask... what did it smell like down there with his fly open?" Pony shrugs, "Um, have you ever gone into a public lavatory innocently right after someone unloaded a horrendous dump? Coming from his open fly was like escaping gases trapped in there like an awful after-a-bad-shit-smell... like after some fat pig of a guy grunted out a huge dump." I go, "Oh, Christ. How'd you stand it?" He goes, "He had me so submissive and dominated I'd have done almost anything. This guy was not to be messed with but I still don't remember being scared. It was a sexy hot experience, Dylan! One like you've never experienced I'll bet." Thank God!

I swallow some beer and he goes, "So, he pulled his cock away from my mouth and he had one of his big hands behind my head pulling my face forward so it was sliding down his foot-long cock. If you think my glasses were smudged a while ago, you should have seen then after being pressed against his sweaty crotch. His huge hand behind my head sort of moving my freakin' face against his prickly stiff pubic hairs and his cock. By the way, his balls hung halfway down his hairy thighs." I go, "Get outta here with that bull crap!"

He goes, "Seriously, and every time my nose flattened against the top, the root of his long thick cock, there'd be pubic hairs in my mouth. He'd move my face against his groin with him moaning... he sounded like a cow that needs to be milked. Yeah, I was on my mother's uncle's friend's farm when I was a kid and these cows they had would, when they needed milking would..." I go, "Stop, please! I know what a cow's 'moo' sounds like."

He nods, "Yeah, but it's much more than a normal 'moo', that's all I'm saying. Anyway, Barnard was mooing like that which was a little odd but he finally stopped smearing my face on his crotch and told me to lick and suck on his cock again. As I told you, I did what he said so I got my fist around his fairly hard cock and slobbered on that thing, licking and sucking until my face was covered with spit. It eventually, his boner eventually felt like I had a fat steel pipe in my fist... and then that long hard pipe went down my throat... fast!"

I must be making a 'face' because Pony goes, "I'm not lying to you!" Nodding my head and squeezing my dick, I go, "I almost believe you." He goes, "Well, he left most of his cock in my throat with me gagging, my face red and tears rolling down my red face... again. It went like that for maybe twenty seconds that, let me tell you, felt like twenty minutes before he pulled his cock all the way out and shot his load on my nose... just like that... boom! A big creamy load of cum flew out with him telling me to 'open your fucking mouth, pussy'. No, wait, I remember this... actually, he said 'get your mouth open, you four-eyed fag pussy'. I guess I'd closed my mouth when the shot of cum hit my nose and drooled down like snot." I go, "Oh, don't use that word. I hate that word!"

Pony goes, "Which one, snot?" I make an annoyed 'face' at him and he goes, "Anyhow, I opened my mouth as wide as it's ever been opened in my life and he shot the last of his climax in my mouth." I go, "Jesus, what an experience!" He nods and says, "Ya gotta believe me, it wasn't like I was scared or anything. I liked being a pussy for him, I admit it." Shaking my head, I go, "Christ, that sounds wilder than my wildest past experiences, um, almost."

Taking a deep breath, and then, even though I don't want to... I can't help snickering. To cover that up, I go, "Let's get a smoke," and we go out on the balcony without our coats. It's not that cold today. I finish off my bottle of beer and light two cigarettes passing one to him, asking," Did you see him again?" Pony stretches, his arms stretched out and then he takes a fake drag off the cigarette, immediately blowing out the smoke, and says, "Well, yeah, I did but I didn't finish what happened. Barnard pulled me to my feet, put his trash-smelling hands on either side of my face and kissed me, then told me to take all my clothes off. I was definitely his pussy-boy by now and we both knew it... him and me, so it was kinda a relaxed situation knowing where we stood. I did what I was told. I only had the ripped shorts and ripped underpants around my ankles, plus my t-shirt, and flip flops on my feet so getting naked took about four seconds." I go, "What'd he do then?" Shrugging, Pony says, "He licked and kissed me all over. Oh, first he said to spread my legs and hold out my arms and then he was feeling all over me with both hands and licking and kissing me all over... I just stood there wishing I had a nose thingie. You know, when you go swimming there's a thing that squeezes your nostrils closed. I was thinking I probably should get one of those in case I run into Barnard again." I go, "Uh huh."

Gulping more beer, I mutter, "As gross as Barnard sounds, I'm getting a boner." We both chuckled at that and then Pony says, "I had one, Dylan! I mean when I was standing there I felt totally dominated and it was the best feeling ever and my boner was as hard as hard can get sticking straight out. First off I felt safe. It just seemed he wouldn't hurt me. It was like, um, he was sort of worshiping my body, ya know?"

Squeezing my junk again, I go, "He sounds seriously sick, but thank God he was harmless. You were playing with fire though, ya know that, right?" He goes, "Ha, get this. He did the worshiping of my body for maybe two minutes but he never touched my boner. Then he told me to get dressed and meet him back here at three o'clock. He said he had to do his 'rounds' now, but he had an afternoon coffee break at three o'clock." The way Pony said that makes me laugh out loud, and then I say, "Sorry for laughing, but it's... he does all that bizarre, crazy sexual behavior that could put him in jail if you reported him, and then he's like, 'Oh, I gotta make my rounds but I have a coffee break at three... as though nothing out of the ordinary here, nothing to see here, folks."

Pony starts coughing because he accidentally inhaled some smoke and then he goes, "Yeah, he made it seem normal. I went to my room, gave Max the little bucket of ice and took a shower. Then Max and I went to the beach. I acted like, um, nothing happened. I was a little embarrassed about acting like a pussy so I told Max nothing. Also, I was half scared and half super aroused at the thought of being fucked by that ginormous cock, ya know?" I go, "I'll say." He goes, "Yeah, that ten minutes in that little utility room was easily the weirdest thing that ever happened to me but, as I said, all I did was bring the ice back to the room, Max used the ice to cool his warm soda. I put some ice in a plastic cup and poured soda over it and took it with me in the bathroom to take my shower, and later we went to the beach." Taking a deep breath after my laugh, I go, "You are really something, Daryl!"

He shrugs, mumbling, "The weirdest thing to me, Dylan, was me not being scared." And naturally, I wanna know what happened during Barnard's coffee break, so I'm like, "Well, did you meet him at three o'clock?" He goes, "Nah, I lost track of the time and didn't get there until like five minutes of four. Like I said that was the next to last day of our trip so I had to think... did I want to do this or not." Nodding my head, I go, "So?" and he says, "I decided I did so I went looking for him and found him on the second level fixing the door on room 207." Gulping more beer, I go, "Room 207, huh?" as if that had anything to do with anything. Pony nods, "Yep, I'll never forget that number. Barnard didn't yell at me for missing our three o'clock rendezvous. He told me to go into room 207, get naked and wait for him. The bed was unmade from the last guest. The housemaid-lady hadn't got around to changing the sheets and whatnot."

He makes a face after another tiny sip of beer and then says, "So I get naked and wait for maybe twenty minutes on the bed sort of playing with my dick a little and all the time I was worried the maid would come in to change the bedding but Barnard finally came in. He pointed at his fly so, naked as a newborn, I jumped off the bed and dropped to my knees and unzipped his fly to pull out that major-league penis of his. I did not want another spanking from Barnard... he knows how to train a pussy like me, huh?" I go, "Don't put yourself down, but why you went searching for him I can't imagine." He goes, "It was my chance to experience something safe and wild, ya know?" I shrug, "I guess I can relate to that, yeah... unfortunately." He says, "This time he left me alone as I licked and sucked and slurped a boner on him. He patted my head gently and told me to lie on the bed on my stomach, then he got me spread-eagled, which I half expected but my face is on the sheets and let me tell ya... that wasn't pleasant. The sheets smelled like a bad fart. Seriously, some fat guy was farting on this bed something awful!"

I make a face and he says, "Anyway, to make it even worse, Barnard held my face against the fart-smelling sheet while he spanked me again, and I mean hard. Christ, I did everything he wanted and I get spanked anyway. Spanked hard like you can't seem to do it, and then he dragged me down across those yucky used slept-in sheets until my ass was at the end of the mattress." I go, "Oh no, don't tell me he didn't use lube?" Pony goes, "He had an extra-strength condom that was coated with lots of lube, and that condom didn't even come halfway down his boner, not that that matters as far as lubing my ass goes. My ass got plenty of lube, and thank God for that."

He puts the almost full bottle of beer on the table and spreads his arms, saying, "Dylan, I never want to be fucked with a cock that long again. It's that simple. It was slightly fatter than yours and I was thinking I'm in for the time of my life... the fuck I'll remember all my life, but Barnard was too physical, too rough and it was not pleasant. Nope! He satisfied my curiosity on that score. Now I know what too-rough is." I'm like, "Well, tell me about it, for Christ's sakes." He goes, "Oh, okay but I don't remember too much. I almost passed out and afterward, he was hugging me and cooing to me while asking how long I was staying." I nod, "Uh huh, but what was it like?"

He flicks his barely smoked cigarette about thirty feet across the alley and it disappears in the woods as he goes, "Don't tell anybody but I was crying again. I mean before he was done and here's the oddest thing of all... crying 'cause it hurt but I had a ginormous climax too! It shocked me how hard and long my steam of cum kept shooting up and out my boner under me. My stomach was wet with cum from my belly button to up between my tits." I go, "So, it really hurt, huh?" He goes, "I wasn't bawling, I was moaning like a motherfucker and it was almost like crying. Fuck, I don't remember exactly. I think it lasted less than three minutes. The feeling was like... Omigod, will that hard thing ever stop going up inside me? Twelve fat inches and Barnard was apoplectic when he shot off his load in that condom." I go, "Apoplectic? Good word, Pony!" He snorts out a laugh and says, "I wasn't sure I used it correctly... hahaha. Anyhow, he showed it to me, the condom when he pulled it off. Hung it near my head and I got lube on my nose! Oh man, a big ball of his cum at the end of that industrial-strength condom... a softball size load of cum."

I ask, "Less than three minutes, huh? How about when it first went in?" Pony goes, "I screamed for my mommy." We both laugh and then he goes, "No, it was piercing pain but I'll give him credit for waiting maybe fifteen seconds after getting the big hard head inside me before he pushed the next eleven inches up my ass. It went on forever it seemed... inch after inch after inch." I'm nodding, "And?" He goes, "And it was the same thing I was thinking when it was down my throat. Not the whole thing in my throat, but it felt like the head was puncturing my fucking lungs, ya know? It felt like it might puncture my lungs going up my ass too!" I'm like, "So, he starting fucking, right?" Pony nods, "I'll say, but steady long strokes in and out with his hand at the back of my head pushing my face on the bedsheets so he didn't hear my screaming. He never smacks his crotch against my ass 'cause his cock was too long I guess. Quite an experience and in retrospect I'm glad I got to see what it's like, but once is enough... once is plenty. It was truly amazing now that I'm thinking back on it. What the fuck, maybe I would do that again now that I know what to expect."

We go inside after I finish my smoke. I get another beer but Pony goes, "Don't open that. Here, take mine. I only wanted a couple of swallows. Um, ya got any bourbon?" I take his beer and chug some, muttering, "That fucking story of yours got me all cranked up." He goes, "Yeah, I'm sorry I don't have any additional details of the incredible fucking my ass endured but I was sort of out of it. Later, Max asked me what was wrong because I was walking funny. Yeah, Barnard hurt my rectum but it didn't take long though before it was feeling okay. Thank God, huh?" and he laughs.

I go, "Christ, my ass hurts from just listening to that." He goes, "That fuck will probably never be topped in my lifetime of experiences and it didn't even last three minutes, but please keep it to yourself because I feel really bad about how I acted with that older guy." I say, "I'm not telling anyone. Who would believe me anyway?" He goes, "I sort of had to tell you but I don't want anyone else to know. Actually, I hope you and I won't bring it up again either. Unless you have any advice for me, do you?"

Taking another gulp of beer, I mutter, "Yeah... don't do that again, that's my advice. I'm serious when I say if you ever get in a situation where you are scared, and you said you never felt in danger with this weirdo, but if you ever do scream for help as loud as you can. Don't worry about being embarrassed... scream for help. That will discourage most predators who will likely leave you and find someone who's too embarrassed to scream."

He goes, "Okay, I will although the chances of running into another Barnard are probably slim to none." I nod, "Yeah, well, I've been in a couple of helpless situations, one with an older guy who got me high on drugs, and then a couple of other times with real dominate types that weren't cool about it. I should have and probably could have avoided them, but didn't. That character, Barnard, is a weird one but, as you said, ultimately only wanted to give his foot-long cock a workout. You didn't know that at first though." He goes, "Yeah, but as I said earlier, I had this feeling right from the beginning he wasn't going to hurt me. It was the look in his eyes I think, he seemed kind." I'm like, "And what about him spanking your ass raw, huh? Was that kind?" He goes, "I think he saw through my tears that I liked it and then, of course, my roaringly hard boner sort of gave me away too." We both snort out a chuckle about that, and he goes, "That's so sick of me, but what can I tell you... I liked it."

Shaking my head, I mutter, "Christ, that struck me funny but, seriously, it's a hairy situation whenever you're messing around with strangers much stronger than you. When with total strangers don't forget to scream for help if you need to. You were helpless... so remember that and maybe pass up the next huge handyman who asks if you're a four-eyed queer," Pony mutters, "Good advice."

I've been looking for bourbon in the cabinet over the sink where we keep the booze if we even have any. There are boxes of cereal in the way but, oh yeah, here we go. I pull out a bottle of Old Grand Dad bourbon. It's one of the bottles either John Beverly or Chubby left here after some drinking occasion, and there's still like a couple of inches of bourbon in the bottle. I pour Pony some of it in a juice glass and then we sit at the bar exchanging other tales of spring breaks. Pony gets laughing at my description of Rob's and my three days in Fort Myers and how it was just... 'okay'.

After a while, he pours himself another shot of Bourbon and I get another beer. It freaks me out the way Pony sips his bourbon. Christ, I couldn't sip whiskey of any kind... drinking it straight down tastes so bad and burns I can't imagine experiencing that sip after sip after sip. When he pours his third drink he holds the juice glass to my lips, saying, "You drink some, Dylan, and I'll have a drink of your beer." For some reason, that sounds like an okay idea and we do that once and then the second time he holds his juice glass to me, and I don't know exactly how this happened, but our faces are together and we're kissing for maybe two minutes straight with my arm across his shoulders. Casual kissing with some sliding together with our tongues as our noses rub together. Very nice...

When our faces pull away, Pony says, "That was about ten thousand times more pleasant than kissing Barnard." And again, it's the way he says stuff so seriously that strikes me funny and makes me laugh out loud. He goes, "What?" Ignoring that, I change the subject and ask, "Are you going to stick with that flattop haircut the rest of your life? It could attract another Barnard, ya know." As he touches his hair, I'm like, "You said you were tired of that look," and my fingers go back through his brown hair that looks okay. I like my crewcut better though so I'm glad Danny decided to change mine.

Pony shrugs, "Yeah, I was gonna get something different but before I could say anything Danny just started doing the same flattop so it was too late. This summer I'll change my haircut, ya know when I go to a barber who asks me what I want. Dylan, I don't like to think of this summer because I won't see you," and we kiss again. Not passionate kisses. They're, um, just kisses because we're gay friends and we feel like kissing each other. Pony's a sweet, still fairly innocent gay friend. That's the way I see him from my perspective. I don't know exactly how Pony characterizes me. And ya know, I'm starting to think maybe eyeglasses and flattop haircuts go okay together in rare cases... like in Daryl Ponti's case. I go, "I promise we'll see each other this summer, Pony. A couple of weekends at least." He nods, "And you always keep your word, so... yeah, that's cool."

When he nudges his face against mine, I kiss his sexy lips again and then, out of the blue, he asks, "Do you have anything I could eat, Dylan? I missed lunch." I grin and then chuckle, saying, "Um, well yeah, of course." I make him the same thing I had for lunch... a chicken sandwich on Italian bread with lettuce and mayo. He eats it and says, "Can I have another?" and that makes me laugh again and each time he makes me laugh it's without him trying to be funny. It's that, um, he's like clueless maybe, or as I said he's pretty innocent... or it's some fucking thing. He makes me laugh, what can I say... and again he goes, "What?" I muss his hair and say, "Oh, nothing," and then make him another sandwich.

Ya know what? I would have loved having a younger brother to take care of. Say, a brother the age Pony acts... haha, which is about fifteen most of the time. Chubby's a day or two younger than me but he's always been my big brother no matter that he always claims the opposite.

After eating his second sandwich, Pony takes a deep breath and asks, "Um, would you mind if I sucked your dick for a while now?" Another laugh from me as Pony grins, not quite sure why I laughed... or why he's grinning for that matter. I go, "Yep, that would be fine." He frowns, saying, "Well, stop laughing at me then, okay?" I go, "I'd never laugh at you Pony. I'm laughing with you whether you realize it or not." He goes, "Oh, that's okay then."

He gets up from the kitchen bar and comes around to where I'm standing, so I'm like, "What are you up to, Pony?" He goes, "This," and he yanks my jeans down past my hips, mumbling, "This will be a big letdown for me after Barnard, but I'll still enjoy it." I'm just about to tell him to go fuck himself when he looks up grinning, and I go, "I knew you didn't mean that." He goes, "No, seriously, your dick is my second favorite to suck next to Chickie's." I chuckle 'cause he's so full of shit and, as he casually pulls my jockey shorts down to join my jeans just below my nuts, he goes, "Chickie sticks some Reese's Pieces on his dick to get me gobbling on that magnificent oddly smelling penis of his. And there's a weird-looking wart near the strange pointed head on his dick," and we both bust a nut laughing at that. Oh man, I like seeing him happy and laughing like this. This is pure goofing around buddy-sex we're doing, just for the fun of it.

He's muttering, "I may as well do this properly," and he gets down on his knees and then picks up my dick but pushes it to the side and does long licks around my shaved groin. I'm still shaving down there a couple of times a week, usually when showering alone. It looks cool and I like doing it too. Somehow it reminds me of Chubby and me when we were in our early to middle teen years shaving each other's legs because we didn't want hairy legs. When we stopped doing that, imagine our surprise that we never had any more hair growth on our legs than the little pale short hairs, hardly visible, that we shaved for a couple of years. Now I think hairy legs are sexy on a guy and I wonder if that's some kind of subconscious connection to Chubby's and my leg shaving. But who the fuck knows what the subconscious is up to, ya know?

My dick feels wet and warm in Pony's mouth and as the shaft is scraping along the tops of his sharp bottom teeth I snort out a laugh wondering what that handyman in Fort Lauderdale thought of Pony's teeth, or for that matter what did Max think about that? Max probably never had his dick sucked before and assumed the sharp incisors, or whatever the bottom teeth are called, are supposed to scratch his dick. When Pony drags my cock across those sharp teeth it makes my shoulders shudder. By now, whenever Pony's sucking my dick I expect the sharp thrill of pain, and I actually like it.

As I'm messing with Pony's pretty brown flattop hair, now almost too long for a flattop, I ask, "What'd Max say when you dragged his cock over those needle-sharp bottom teeth of yours?" Pony takes my cock out and holds it in his fingers, and goes, "OOWWW! That's what he said, but he shot off all three times I blew him so what's his problem? He wouldn't let me do it again after the third time though, but it had nothing to do with my teeth. It was because he said it could get habit forming and he felt weird about that. As for Barnard, he mutters... 'watch the teeth, ya pussy cunt'. He was great with the humiliating insults. Jeez, it's weird but that experience is seeming almost a good sexy experience as time passes. It probably won't be long before I begin considering checking the fares for a quick trip back to Fort Lauderdale," and we both laugh. So, huh, I see Pony's now got better 'material' for his one-liners after that trip to Fort Lauderdale. Pretty funny shit.

My cock goes back in his mouth as I'm saying, "Yeah, maybe I'll go with you," and he snorts and snickers at that, biting my dick as he does his snickering, but he didn't draw blood. Pretty quickly I'm concentrating on the sensations coming off my dick, so I drop the jokes. Pony's sucking and licking to beat the band. It's great getting my dick sucked by someone who likes doing it so much. Pony and I definitely have that, and a few other things, in common. His wet and warm soft tongue constantly moves over the hard head of my boner, plus Pony's developed some nice lip action. Yeah, his lips free of their normal job of covering his teeth, are able to energetically slide not only over the head but there's some nice movement on the shaft too, his tongue fully involved, and it's a nice size pretty pink tongue too. Not too big or too small and not too mushy or too hard. All those types of tongues my dick has experienced and Pony's is right up there near the top of the list as just about perfect for blow jobs. This so-called blowjob ain't bad at all, it's pretty fucking good actually. Pony's also doing steady stroking on the part of my pecker not in his mouth and all of his actions, plus the frequent little jabs of pain when he moves my hard cock on his bottom teeth are creating quite a unique series of sensation for me. I don't know what Max or what's-his-name, um, Barnard, thought about Pony's cock sucking, but I like it a lot 'cause he's improved tremendously from the first time he did it. Not that I'm the first guy Pony's blown, not by a long shot. Oh boy, and now a hard squeeze on my nuts and I start grunting and moving my feet.

All I hear is the slurping mouth-sounds Pony's making, plus my own quick breaths as I rub my fingers through his hair contemplating pushing my boner down his throat. As I'm contemplating that, Pony pulls my cock out and holds my wicked-hard penis in his fingers, his mouth wet all around with saliva, as he exclaims "Goddamn, your penis has a nice taste to it, and you smell good too!" I go, "Well, that's good to know! Why don't you stick it back in your mouth and enjoy some more of it."? He lets go of my cock and stands up, saying, "No!" I go, "Okay, don't put it back in your mouth." He's like, "See how naughty I am? I defied you like the bitchy snatch I am. I'm nothing but a bitch of a pussy and a back-talking cunt, so ya better teach me some manners, don'cha think?"

Snickering, I mutter, "Gee, you learned some new tricks in Florida, huh? That's a cute act but I know you're just trying to manipulate me into spanking you, ya back-talking cunt, but I ain't gonna do it, and I'll tell you why." He's grinning as he gropes himself, asking, "Why, ya pencil dick motherfucker?" and I bend over laughing my nuts off, and then spit out, "Because you need to pull your pants down first." Oh, Christ! This shit isn't normally this funny but coming from Pony it is. Gawd, I'm laughing so hard I can't catch my breath. The way he seriously says that shit, plus the shit-eating expression on his face... priceless!

His glasses are, of course, totally smudged again and a little cockeyed as he pushes them up with his forefinger and then mumbles, "Oh, okay, yeah I see what you mean" and then he drops his pants to his ankles and hops a few times turning around. Bending over with his hands on his knees, he looks back at me and says, "Either spank my ass or kiss it ya poor excuse for a 'top'." Oh man! I'm like, "Hold it right there, four-eyes," and, still chuckling, I walk around the kitchen bar and down the short hall to the bedroom to get the Astroglide. Pony's yelling, "Where ya going, Dylan? Are you getting a ping pong paddle? I hope..."

I'm back in the kitchen in thirty seconds holding up the Astroglide. Pony nods his head and I whack his ass with my open hand, "SMACK!" and then I do it a couple of more times, "SMACK! SMACK!" He mutters, "Oh, that feels so good." Each time I whack his ass the top of his head bumps off the refrigerator door, but he doesn't back away from it. I'm like, "There's not enough room in here," and I grab his arm, "C' mon," he lifts up, whining, "You're breaking the spell we were creating," but he follows me around the kitchen bar to the living room. I'm like, "There's no room to do anything in that little kitchen area."

Over near the sofa, I mumble, "Lean over the arm of the sofa and I'll spank the shit out of you." He leans over the arm lying on his chest with his hands flat on the cushion, mumbling, "Well, okay then." As I spread Astroglide around it and inside his asshole, I ask, "Did that handyman mention your hairless ass?" He goes, "Nope. I'd been lax about using the Nair for Men and there may have been a few random ass hairs reappearing," and that makes both of us laugh. We're fucking giddy from talking all this shit and we're a little drunk too I suppose. I go, "Few ass hairs, huh? That's unacceptable, ya cunt lapper," and spank him until he puts his hands back trying to cover his red butt cheeks.

He has a really nice ass actually, and I like that there's not a hair on it. I've tried to see my own ass a few times with the help of a hand-held mirror. Not recently, by the way, it was a couple of years ago, and yeah I've got a hairless ass too and I don't need Nair for Men, or Nair for Goats for that matter. Guys have mentioned my hairless ass so I wanted to check. They were right too... not a hair on my ass.

When his ass is red from getting spanked, shiny with the lube I spread on a couple of minutes ago, I'm like, "With all this fucking around, my boner got kinda soft so I need to do a few strokes..." and I stroke my cock with my slippery hand, getting lube on it while spanking his ass and, oh Christ, does my slippery fist feel good tightly stroking my cock! My penis learned long ago that it feels best when it's hard so it cooperates fully and with only a few strokes it's wicked hard again and I'm pressing the rosy-colored swollen head against Pony's anus, or if you prefer... his asshole. It slides in tightly because no matter the size of the cock going in, the anus will only open although very reluctantly and only the minimum amount, the least amount it needs to open and I mean not one millimeter more. Hell, not one micrometer more than it needs to open and as everyone knows a micrometer is 1000th the size of a millimeter which is really, really tiny to start with. That's just the way assholes work; they do the very least they need to, so that's kinda annoying, but what would we do without an asshole, ya know? So we got no choice but to put up with our asshole's idiosyncrasies.

In other words, my boner is a tight fit but in a perfect way. Pony's body tightens as he experiences a little pain but not a lot of pain and certainly not too much because he likes the combination of pain and pleasure during sex, and I do too. We know pain is a temporary situation and what comes next is reason enough to be living... it's the gravy train of sexual pleasure called anal fucking that some of us have a capacity to enjoy it more than others. If I can take anything from Pony's moaning, I'll assume he's on the higher end of the pleasure scale in that regard. And, seriously, him liking it so much adds to the pleasure of whoever is fucking his ass. I'm not sure the handyman in Fort Lauderdale cared if Pony was experiencing pleasure or not, but he may have.

When I notice Pony's body relaxing, I push my hard cock up his ass steadily and that feels incredibly good. For good measure, I'm squeezing his buttocks and then rubbing those nice red stinging-looking buttocks mounds of firm ass, and then squeezing them again. Pony goes, "Oooooh, mmmm..." Yeah, I know how good it can feel having a cock up your ass. When my hairless groin connects with his hairless butt cheeks, I mutter, "Ya got any more funny shit to tell me?" He shakes his head and then groans and looks back, grunting, "Hard, Dylan. Fuck me hard, okay?" Yeah, joking stops when the sex starts feeling so good all you want is more of it, more of those indescribable sensations known as sexual pleasure.

I smack the side of his ass with my hand and pull my boner back. Sucking on my lips, trying not to moan this early at the incredible sensations coming off my cock, I shudder instead. I don't shudder on purpose, I have no choice. Involuntary shuddering is my body's reaction to the overwhelming stimulus that is, in this situation, awesome pleasure coming off my dick. Then, when I've pulled my boner back until only part of the head of my swollen boned-up cock is still in his ass, I hesitate to take a silent deep breath and then, making a 'face' of anticipation I thrust my six-hard-inches of cock back up his ass, and I do it hard with a flesh against flesh SLAP sound ringing out. Pony's back arches as he goes, "Mmmm, ooh," and then it's steady, "SLAPSLAP," sounds and moans of sexual pleasure for five steady minutes.

No discernible words are heard unless, "Ooh, ooh, ooh," and "Umpth, umpth, umpth" and, "Aah, aah, ahh, ooh, ooh!" count as words. Oh man, nothing feels better for me than this... except when I'm in Pony's position when both penis and rectum are pleasure-treasures. Today my penis is carrying the load and in some ways, it's simpler this way because I can concentrate on just my dick whereas when I'm a 'bottom' it gets so I don't know what to concentrate on 'cause the pleasure from nerve endings in my rectum AND those coming from my rock hard cock both deserve my attention. That's when it gets overwhelmingly fantastic and I start floating out in space 'cause no place on earth seems worthy of that much pleasure.

And I admit when I'm 'topping', concerns of my partner's pleasure continually get pushed further from my mind until it becomes all about my pleasure. But, since I'm a 'bottom' mostly myself, when I'm the 'top' I try to consider my sex partner's pleasure too. I'm not fucking Superman though and that 'partner consideration' factor gets lost in the pleasure messages, the pleasure translation gets garbled or some such shit and all my brain eventually cares about is me.

Yeah, and that is totally true when a climax is approaching 'cause nothing can stop that train... toot-toot, it demands undivided attention. Impending climax sensations make me hold my breath, my mouth open a little and my eyes blinking at the bright lights because for this split-second in time I'm the fucking star of the world and then KABOOM I squeal at the unbelievable sensations screaming around my body and brain... it's called a climax. It's like I don't know what else to do except mindless hump against these desirable mounds of firm human flesh, my boner encased in a really tight sheath that's the perfect temperature as it tries strangling my hard appendage and BOOM again, a second hard stream of my bodily fluids flies out my boner into the darkness of a rectum with sensations exploding in me and all around the outside of me... my cock is the center of the universe with gigantic black holes circling it. Yes, MY COCK!

Omigod! And then I'm aware that the world I'm presently part of is just around the corner getting ready to roar back into my consciousness, but not quite yet as I moan, "Oooh, mmm," and shudder again. I'm almost surprised to see Pony bent over the sofa arm in front of me and, oh yeah, my cock is up his ass and he's saying something I'm only comprehending now, so only hear the end... "so I'm sorry for that but what'd you expect?" Huh? Oh man, that felt good! I do a few final thrusts in Pony's cum-filled ass, still coming back from the stars and then, zoom, back to planet earth. I casually rub his back, asking, "How ya doing... how was that?" realizing too late that that was a pathetic attempt on my part to get a compliment about my fucking. Taking a noisy deep breath I pull my dick out and watch cum follow it out and then drool down Pony's ass. Huh, that's cool...

Pony stands up and steps away from the sofa, saying, "That was pretty good. Not Barnard-good, but pretty good." Wow, I've still got some buzzing around my cock and balls but I play it cool, saying, "Well, your ass is pretty good too, although not Carl's-ass-good." He laughs and says, "You've never fucked Car!" Then I see Pony's huge cum-shot drooling down under the sofa's arm and I'm like, "Couldn't you catch some of that shit in your hand? Jesus! Look at that mess." He goes, "I said I was sorry, but what'd you expect when you pushed me over the arm of the sofa like that?"

Oh man, this is typical of buddy sex. After the thrill of climax, we're immediately onto other matters like Pony spunking on the fucking sofa. I never do that! Hardly ever. I'm pulling on my sloppy dick, saying weakly, "You should have said something," and he goes, "Don't try to blame me." Yeah, well...

Walking over to the end table, I grab some Kleenex out of the box and wipe my dick, muttering, "You're right. I should have thought ahead and anticipated that. Robby hangs a tea towel so it... well, never mind that. No problem, I'll get some Lysol spray cleaner. It can handle that tiny drool of semen." He laughs, "If you call that tiny, I'd like to see what you consider a big drool of cum." As I'm pulling up my pants, I mutter, "Look up your ass. You'll see a big drool." I snicker to myself and get the cleaner and some paper towels. Pony goes, "Aren't you gonna help me clean my ass first? C'mon Dylan, treat me nice." I say, "Sorry... I should do that, you're right. Turn around, Daryl," and when he does I spray some Lysol cleaner on his ass and wipe off drooling cum with a paper towel. Then, handing him the gooey paper towel, I mutter, "How's that?"

Walking to the kitchen, Pony drops the paper towel in the trash, saying, "It's more than the last guy did for me." After cleaning the end of the sofa, I look at the smear of wet... hmm, I'll bet that's gonna leave a mark. Putting the spray cleaner away I look at the beer bottles and bourbon bottle on the bar and again realize a lot of our goofiness is probably because of the booze. We're not drunk, not much anyway. It's just that the liquor decreases inhibitions. Yeah, but that was some fun sex... yep, it was.

We go out on the balcony for an after sex smoke. Pony's leaning against me, saying, "We should have more sex than we do. Don't ya think." I'm like, "Don't lean on me all the time, Pony." He goes, "I like to lean on you," and he leans harder so I put my arms around him as I'm mumbling, "Christ, we have sex every chance we get. There are so many roadblocks though, like our class schedules and your roommate's class schedule and then I am, as you know, involved in a full-time loving relationship and then there's your bowling fetish." He laughs, "I go bowling twice a week." I mutter, "Twice a week we could be fucking." He turns around to lean against me face to face now, grinning and saying, "I'm not giving up the bowling for this!" Haha!

Back inside we continue insulting each other good-naturedly and then later we're in the bathroom acting like thirteen-year-old girls for fifteen minutes fucking with each other's hair. Pony's trying to get my hair to look like a flattop again and then I try to comb his to look preppy like Rob's. We both need haircuts so our hair is long enough that we're both partially successful. It soon gets boring though so we leave our hair looking fucked-up with hair gel and go back in the kitchen where I get another beer and Pony has a shot of bourbon.

He makes a face as he swallows the liquor and then asks, "What are you going to do first thing after graduating?" Huh, that's a good question. Shrugging, I'm like, "I guess I'll get a job. I should probably be thinking more seriously about that, actually." He goes, "Do you think you could hire me when I graduate next year?" Shrugging again, I go, "Maybe. Well, not me, but I can get you an interview wherever I'm working, which will most likely be for Rob, and I'll put in a fantastic recommendation for you, sure." He goes, "Good! Now I don't need to worry about that anymore." I roll my eyes and give him a hug.

Then he goes, "Oh, I meant to mention, I need a reference book for some project that's due before the end of the semester." I go, "And why are you telling me that bit of trivia?" He says, "Because you're going to help me get the fucking book." I go, "Oh," and for the next hour we're in the college library doing that. Later I make dinner for us and as Pony has another shot of bourbon as I get a text from Robby saying they're on the bus and only about a half-hour from Merrimack. He has a ride to the apartment from Merrimack so I don't need to pick him up.

Twenty minutes later I drop off Pony and then wait for the bus to arrive. I wanna surprise Robby, but after I smoke a cigarette it dawns on me the bus was due twenty minutes ago. What the fuck? I'm about to text Robby when I get a text from him. He's at the apartment asking where I am. Huh, I guess the bus dropped off the team below the ballpark and not in the parking lot. I text that info to Robby and drive back.

Aw, we have a little reunion after being apart all day. It's just some hugs and kisses. Rob then tells me he had a double and a home run in the game that Merrimack won 12 to 4. So, yeah, he's in a good mood and in bed before sleeping we fuck with me enjoying my preferred position, which is the 'bottom' one in case ya just crawled out from under a rock and didn't know that.

The rest of the week was mostly Robby playing in baseball games, bus rides to and from away games, and trying to stay on top of the college academic side of things at the same time. I helped with that but it's not a great time for me when Rob's away this much. Pony and I got together for basically a repeat of Monday's activities but since Danny and Carl are also on the baseball team, I mostly eat lunch and dinner in the apartment alone, which I don't like doing. On the other hand, I'm not motivated to go out and intermingle with guys I know from classes this year, and from earlier years too, some of whom I like okay. What I'm saying is, eating alone is my fault. And I didn't do any boy-watching either. No wandering around looking for magical connections because I don't feel like doing that either, so that's also my fault.

Chubby has his own life on campus and I don't feel right expecting him to drop everything just because Robby's away. I know Chubby would do it and it's tempting to ask him but I resist doing that because I'm not a fucking baby. Having free time to myself ain't all bad actually and I finish my book and then begin another one, plus I'm being a conscientious nerd with the class work at the apartment. That's because I want to support Robby and he's both impressed and appreciative about it. I'm like, "C'mon, it's nothing." It was more than 'nothing' though... it is something.

During the college baseball season, I'm used to not seeing nearly as much of Rob as I'd like although he is here almost every night. Ya know, except for random overnight stays for games down south. And now it's two full weeks after spring break and starting the third week Rob has the last overnight games of the season, so he is away tonight. Not only am I missing him a lot, but between practices and games and classes and studying, it's like I can't remember when I last saw Danny. I see Carl during Rob's study groups and Carl stays for dinner like three or four nights a week, but I haven't seen Danny for more than ten minutes at a time for two weeks now.

Like we did the last two weeks, Pony and I play nice together a couple of afternoons, and I've been having coffee with Connor once or twice a week too. In some ways, it seems time is rushing by and at other times it moves like molasses. Robby's happy when the team wins and happier if they win and he gets a couple of hits. For me, it's a less exciting routine spending too much time reading my book. This third week after spring break I finally can't resist intruding on Chubby's routine and when he texts me to see how I'm doing I casually ask what he's doing tonight? That's all I need to ask and he right away wants us to have dinner together. We eat dinner out one night and another night I go with him, John Beverly and three other guys to this bar. It was okay except I knew I was sort of cramping Chub's style as he was constantly making sure I was having a good time. He told me he and I are having a 'brothers' day some Saturday before the semester ends. It'll be just him and me all day...

Pony texted me today, Saturday. It was right after I dropped Rob off for another bus ride to another college for another away game. Pony's text: 'After we get haircuts this morning do you wanna go bowling with Max and me. You can drive... haha!' So those two numbnuts need a ride to the bowling alley, obviously. I text back: 'Danny is on a bus going to God knows where for a baseball game, so forget the haircut.' He texted back, "Oh, yeah, that's right. How about bowling?' He's flexible. I go bowling with them. Tenpins, not candlepins, and do I ever suck at ten pins! Max and Pony aren't a helluva lot better and they're supposed to be bowlers!

Max seemed almost as immature as Pony, which shouldn't have surprised me considering how they met. Meaning, Max hit Pony with a snowball like a nine-year would do as a way to meet a new friend... bop him on the head with a snowball and ask, 'What's your name?' Jesus! Anyway, I felt like one of those Big Brother guys taking the little brothers without dads out for a day. Ah, fuck, we had a good time and Robby wasn't going to be home from the game in time for dinner anyway so I treated the guys to a Fuddruckers dinner. Max offered to pay his share but then told me he'd need to owe me because his allowance ran out. Allowance! I told him it was my treat.

We all make it through another week. It's Friday and there's no game so Rob will be here, but there's baseball practice so it won't be a major change in my schedule. Here's what is changing though... this weekend is Easter Sunday which means less than four weeks until, ta-da!... graduation. We'll start studying for finals next week. I'm both nervous and excited.

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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