Dylans Summer Vacation

DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION

Chapter 7, (more Wildwood 2) by Donny Mumford

Chubby, me, and the moms are out on the deck Thursday morning drinking Dunkin' Donuts coffees; a couple of us are scarfing down cranberry muffins as well. The moms are a little bit hung-over from too much partying on the cruise ship last night, but Chubby and I are higher than a kite can fly* because we have an awesome day looming out there in front of us, just him and me doing whatever we want to do. Chubby's girlfriend is hangin' with her friend Marsha who's too sick to leave the house. Now, I'm not saying I wish a sickness on anyone, but ya know, those two did horn-in on Chubby's and my Wildwood vacation. It's not like Chubby invited them, and I sure as hell didn't, so maybe there is finally some justice in my world... I'm just saying. Finished with our coffees, Chubby and me left the moms there on the deck looking a tad pale with their cranberry muffins still staring up at them from their plates. I'm thinking the moms may still be a little too woozy to try solid food; Chubby and I certainly weren't, we wolfed down two muffins each. After wishing the moms a great day, we're on our way down the steps of the condo when I get an idea and say, "Wait a second, Chubby! Instead of heading for the beach, let's go water skiing!" He stops on the steps and looks back at me, interested in my idea. I tell him a little about my experience last summer water skiing with Willie. Chubby goes, "Stupendous idea, bro! We'll spend the rest of the stolen money."

The only place I know we can water ski is where I skied last year so I drove us north on the Garden State Parkway to Ocean City . Ocean City is a resort town between Sea Isle City and Somers Point. It's a nice family-oriented vacation destination, meaning there's no alcoholic beverages served within the city limits. Of course, if you want some booze all ya gotta do is drive across the little bridge connecting Ocean City with Somers Point and you'll be on MacArthur Circle . It's a rotary with numerous egress roads taking you to other roads, but if you stay on the rotary all the way around, just before you need to get back onto the little bridge you came over on, there's the Circle Liquor store. You can buy all the booze you want and take it back to the dry town of Ocean City. So there's booze aplenty, it's just that it sounds good to say Ocean City is a dry town...good chamber of commerce stuff. There's a family-friendly boardwalk in Ocean City, too; it's a much smaller version of Wildwood's boardwalk, actually.

When we get to Ocean City I find my way to Great Egg Harbor Bay where there's numerous boating establishments from which you can rent fishing boats, water skiing motor boats, jet skis, etc. and the accessories to go with these water activities. These places do not come cheaply however as Chubby and I soon discover. But, ya know, we figured, what the hell, it's not our money. Last year it wasn't my money either as Willie paid for everything. I don't remember what kind of boat we had last year, but today Chubby and I rent a three-year old Glastron MX 170 boat with a 75 horsepower Mercury outboard motor, renting for seventy-five dollars an hour. We need a trained staff member to drive the boat 'cause neither Chubby nor I have any experience driving a motorboat, and anyway we want to water ski together. I looked around for the guy Willie and I had used last year but didn't see him... he'd of been okay I guess. A staff member at Harris Boating costs three hundred dollars for the morning, and renting two sets of Connelly Response Shaped water skis and two Overton's single floating belts made out of lightweight closed-cell PVC set us back another sixty dollars. We're told by the salesperson behind the counter that the water skis we rented are very forgiving for the type of recreational water skiing we're going to be doing; turning or pulling outside the boat's wake should be easy. Chubby and I exchange glances, mutter "Uh huh," nodding our heads pretending we know what the guy's talking about.

What got my attention next was one of the so-called trained staff members. At least one member of said staff is hot and I'm crossing my fingers wishing upon wish that we get him assigned to us. I spotted him the second he walked out of the back room to do something behind the counter. The words"trained staff" was prominently displayed on his red tank top. Chub and I are in line waiting to fill out the rental papers, me gawking at this hot boy and Chubby counting what's left of our stolen money. We're behind two other parties who are renting stuff for various boating outings. The first of the two groups was assigned a trained staff member who turns out to be a stocky, semi-bald man of indeterminate age with a weirdly high-pitched voice. Chubby turned around and looked at me rolling his eyes as the weird trained staff guy squeaked out to his customers, "Please tell me you've all had experience water skiing!" This staff guy had bulging calf muscles covered in black leg hairs. The group he would be working with consisted of a mother, father, and a teenage girl; none of whom looked pleased to have this guy in charge of their outing. Tough luck folks, better you than us. It turns out the next group doesn't need a trained staff member so that leaves just two trained staff behind the counter. One is the hottie guy I mentioned and the other is a muscular, very tanned woman in her twenties with a man's preppy haircut. She might be a dyke... I'm not sure about that, but I am sure we don't want her! So, with my fingers aching from being crossed so hard, Chubby passes a lot of Joel's twenties to the cashier guy, along with both our driver's licenses. I guess the driver's licenses need to be kept by this man to make sure we don't dump the trained staff member overboard and drive the boat to Cuba . The paper work is finally completed and the salesman says, over his shoulder, "Charlie, you've got a morning water-skiing party." To myself I'm like: "Okay now, please dear God, do not have that dyke go by the name of Charlie!" She never looks up, but hottie did; he looked at the salesman, then looked at me for a brief second, his eyes went to my Mohawk, down to my eyes and then, without any noticeable reaction, he barks, "Roger that, Wayne ! Got it covered, dawg!" and he goes back to typing something into a computer. I do a fake cough to keep from cheering and then look over at Chubby who's checking out the water skis. He looks excited about water skiing; me too, but I'm also excited about Charlie!

Our trained staff guy might be as old as twenty, but no more than that, and probably younger. Obviously he's an expert water skier and boat handler; he's been around boats and the water all his life no doubt. Not that I have any intentions of checking his credentials... if he can get the boat started that's enough expertise for me. He's got a great tanned body, very well put together and quite athletic looking, but not in an extreme way, and his tan isn't extreme either; an overall very healthy, natural looking body... but hot too! Short, wavy dark brown hair that looks real soft; it's cut especially short on the sides with one inch long bangs cut straight across his forehead. It's a different hair style for sure, but a very cool look on him. He's wearing a small round silver stud earring in his left ear and a phat leather necklace with a slim cross hanging from it. There's also a thin leather bracelet on his hairless right wrist that normally I might not go for, but on him it's okay. I casually pulled my own necklace with its cross out from under my t-shirt to let it hang in view, like Charlie's. Even though he's tanned nicely there's still some sunburn on his nose which has a slight slope in it and a rounded pug end with real nice oval nostrils; it's a teen-idol's nose, and it's perfect. He's got these puffy bowed rosy lips too which further enhances the teen-idol image. Nice big dark blue bedroom eyes, the perfect distance apart, and they contrast wonderfully with the dark hair and dark eyelashes and thin dark eyebrows; it all has me groping myself and biting my lower lip. Jesus, what a lucky break to be getting this kid to show us how to water ski and chauffeur us around in that awesomely powerful motorboat. Hey, how 'bout after the water skiing he can teach us to slow dance too. Ha ha! The longer I stare at him the more I'm attracted back to his very smooth complexion... it's pretty much a lightly-tanned, creamy baby-face look. Making myself glance away from his face I notice his great biceps... well, not only his biceps, he's got hairless well shaped arms and sort of square hands that I'd love to hold hands with. I can't wait to check out his legs when he comes from behind the counter. This kid's got to be six feet tall, or close to it. Tallish and slim and delicious is our trained staff member, Charlie.

Chubby goes, "These skis are so cool, Dylan! Hey, is it hard to water ski?" I'm like, "Wha..? Huh?" Turning to Chubby I see he's reading a poster on the wall about the do's and don't of water skiing. I say, "Oh, you'll have no problem with it, Chubby," and he murmurs, "I hope not, bro." Looking back over my shoulder it appears Charlie's done with the computer. Chubby mumbles, "I gotta pee, be back in a minute, bro," and he heads for a sign indicating "MEN". Two seconds later I hear a clear, youngish, sexy-sounding voice say, "Dylan and Jeffrey Romero!" Turning around I see Charlie coming from behind the counter glancing at the ten or twelve people in the room. Like a dork, I raise my hand and say, "Present..." then blush with embarrassment as half the people look at me with incredulous expressions on their faces. Goddammit! Why do I do and say things like this? Charlie looks over and, obviously controlling a mocking smile at my dorkiness, says, "Present?" I laugh nervously walking over to him and he grabs the back of my neck and playfully jostles me back and forth jokingly saying, "Present? Present? What, you think you're in school or something? Ha ha ha!" He's now wearing a pale red baseball-style cap with the boating establishment's logo on the front, "HARRIS' BOATING". When Charlie jostled me my head looked down to notice his sexy legs sticking out from a swimsuit that also bore the firm's logo. The swimsuit was halfway between boardies style and a speedo style; it was snug on his thighs but extended almost to his knees. His crotch bulge was average, but his legs were way, way above average. Very sexy legs, long and thin and mostly hairless and the calves, like his biceps, have a wonderful natural definition to them. They have that real nice curved calf muscle looking so smooth and touchable... all I could think of was how awesome it would be to have those legs wrapped around my waist, or better yet, part of that average crotch bulge hard and up my ass. It gave me half a boner thinking that thought and I unconsciously pulled at my boardies' crotch mumbling, "Ah... I say dumb things sometimes," Charlie laughed again and pulled me into him to rub my Mohawk, announcing, "Don't worry about it, but this haircut is disturbing, Romero!" He took his hat off and put it on my head backwards. "Wear this whenever you're out of the water; captain's orders." Letting go of my neck, he asks, "Where's your brother?" I go, "Ah, he's not actually..." but Charlie interrupts to say, "Is that him?" Charlie looks at the paper he's holding, then shouts to Chubby, "Over here, Jeffrey... or is it Dylan?" When he's in front of us, smiling, Chubby holds out his right hand, saying, "Jeffrey Romero, nice ta meet ya." Charlie goes, "Likewise, I'm Charlie Reed... call me Charlie. Let's go outside."

We follow Charlie outside with me staring at his perfect bubble butt the whole way. Me staring at Charlie's butt is quite something because Chubby's ass is awesome too and I usually stare at that every chance I get, not today though! The temperature's in the eighties with lots of sun and a small breeze blowing off the bay; it's beautiful out. So is Charlie. In the sun he shines and he's so relaxed and at ease I even feel calm. Chubby and I stand side by side as Charlie explains, "We'll be taking off in about ten minutes, okay? I'm working for you; you're my bosses, but on the boat I'm the captain too, so you gotta do what I say. It's an awkward situation to have an employee bossing you around, ha ha, but it's for your own safety and mine too. We good with this, guys?" We nod our heads mesmerized by him, even Chubby a little bit too. I love Charlie's perfect legs and now I'm staring at his feet. He's wearing sandals so his feet are pretty much out there to be ogled. Nice feet, tan, hairless and kind of square like his hands, but without the visible veins you see in most feet. I like the way the strap of his sandal separates the big toe from the next one, neat toenails too. Okay, I'm really into Charlie; some boys just do it for me. Ha ha, those feet are something alright; betcha Chubby would be creaming all over those babies after fondling them for thirty seconds. Ha ha! The thought of cumming on Charlie's feet has me gasping; half laugh and half sigh, then another fake cough to cover it all up. Charlie looks over at me and gives me a cute smirk; then, looking over our heads, he smiles this gorgeous smile, and says, "Give me a second, fellows... there's my main squeeze and she beckons." He's chuckling as he said that, and on the way by me he adjusts the hat he'd put on my head, saying, "Looking good, dawg!" I blush, then smile self-consciously and turn to watch him approach a tall thin girl who appears to be about twenty years old. She's almost as good looking as Charlie and when he gets to her they do a decent kiss and hug, then he says something and she squeezes his side and smiles. Hmmm, lots of affection there. Fuck!

Charlie's back in less than two minutes, saying, "Sorry for the delay, guys. I forgot to leave my car keys for Rosie... she's my steady girlfriend since way back to freakin' high school days." Chubby says, "Whoa, she's beautiful, dude." Charlie rubs Chubby's hair, saying, "Thanks, Jeff. You got a girlfriend?" and they talk about their girlfriends for a minute while I shuffle my feet feeling uncomfortable. Finally Charlie asks about our water skiing experience and we explain that I've done it once, but Chubby never has. Charlie says, "Okay then. You'll need a little practice before we take off in the boat, Jeff." Charlie looks at me and says, "Dawg, you take this invoice inside to the guy at the counter and he'll set you up with all the stuff you guys rented. Me and your brother will be over there, away from the boats, going over some stuff in the water." I take the paper mumbling, "Yeah, okay" and Charlie puts his arm across Chubby shoulders leading him away; looking back, he says to me, "Load all that stuff in the boat tied-up in slip 66, dawg. We'll be joining you shortly." Chubby didn't seem to mind Charlie hanging all over him which is unusual for him. I minded though because it made me jealous and I wasn't quite sure what I was most jealous about: Chubby seeming to like having Charlie putting his arm across his shoulders or that Charlie was doing it. I thought Charlie seemed partial to me at first. Hmmmm? I watched them walking away for a few seconds noticing Charlie acting real intimate, talking a blue streak with lots of hand motions; Chubby's looking sideways and up at Charlie with this goofy attentive expression on his face like he's hearing the most fascinating stuff imaginable. Damn! I wish I was the one who has never water skied!

Inside I wait my turn, then the sales guy gives me the stuff I need and I carry it down the pier to our boat, and then back for a second load. There's a cooler with ice and complimentary sodas and sub sandwiches that I humped down there too, and it was heavy. I was sweating by the time I walked back to where Charlie was giving Chubby pointers on how to water ski. I watched from ten feet away as Charlie draped himself over Chubby's back, extending his arms on either side of Chubby who had his arms stretched-out mimicking holding the handle of a tow rope. They were both in shallow water crouched in the correct take off position which meant Charlie's crotch must have been plastered against Chubby's ass. I made a disgusted face like, "This is too much! Totally unnecessary!" I mean, after all, I didn't need this kind of instruction last summer; ya just jump in the fucking bay and do what you're told, for Christ sakes! I yell out in frustration, "Hey! Shouldn't we be going now?" Without looking back, Charlie shouts back, "Just another minute, Sport! Be right with ya." I'm thinking, "Why not stick your dick up his ass while you're at it! This sucks!" Then the two of them are coming out of the water, both laughing, with Chubby again staring at Charlie with rapt attention. This fucking trained staff guy never shuts up for one thing. I stomped down the pier ahead of them and climb into the boat. When they got to the boat Charlie says to me, "Okay, now I gotta run over the basics with you, dawg. Come on out here." I stare at him defiantly as he grins back and points at a spot next to him, saying, "Come on, over here." Then to Chubby, he says, "You hop in the boat and get yourself a cold drink, Jeff. This won't take long." I'm making a face and rolling my eyes like this isn't necessary, but I climb out and as soon as I do Charlie has his arm across my shoulders the same way he did with Chubby. Charlie's walking me away from the boat; I resist putting my arm around his waist although I'd like to. This is a little more like it; he smells awesome too and that has me pulling at the front of my crotch again. His side is tight against my side rubbing against me as we walk; I pull at my semi-boner once more and puff out a few quiets breaths. Okay... this is okay.

We walk in silence a few steps, then Charlie kind of whispers, "I can see you're a lot like my little brother. He pouts at the drop of a hat too. Maybe I should call you Pookie like I call him. Don't get me wrong, I love that kid." He jostles me again and says, "My job is to be sure my clients have a good time. So, I demand that you smile... come on, let's see it!" I go, "Oh, man! I'm not pouting, why would I be pouting?" He says, "Smile, Pookie!" and I blurt out a chuckle and grin with embarrassment. Charlie goes, "Not enough; I need a full Pookie smile," and I laugh nervously again and my grin turns into an embarrassed smile this time. He says, "What a beautiful smile you have, dawg!" As he's pulling me against him tighter, I mumble, "Thanks, Charlie," and for some reason he laughs and says, "You're really something, dawg! Come on, let's have some fun on the water." He didn't talk to me about water skiing at all. As we walked up the pier I was so back to crushing on Charlie. We climb in the boat with me thinking "Pookie's kind of a cute nickname." I sat on one side of Charlie and Chubby sat on the other as Charlie expertly drove that powerful boat out into the bay. As he drove he told us a little about himself: He's a sophomore at the University of Pennsylvania, he's worked for this boating firm for five years, and he's won a few water skiing competitions along the way too. Also, he's been water skiing since he was six years old and his family has their own motorboat at their summer place in Sea Isle City , and he actually does have a younger brother who's sixteen, and who is also a water skiing champion for his age group. The brother's name is Peter so I don't know how the "Pookie" nickname fits in.

It's obvious that Charlie has a great natural personality, especially when he's paying attention to me... when he's paying attention to Chubby he seems to overdo it a little. No way he could overdo it with me though. I like to look at his mouth when he talks. Beautiful white teeth with a tiny chip out of the bottom of the right front one. His teeth and those fabulous kissable lips and his cute fucking chin, the grins with the dimples, oh man... I get a hard on just looking at his mouth and listening to his sexy youthful voice. All that plus the combination of his general coolness, his relaxed and likable personality, his awesome looks, and uber hot body... it all was a tad overwhelming for me. I was in heat for this kid and one second I'm thinking he's hot for me too, but the next second he's giving Chubby the same heat he'd been giving me. So, I'm wondering, maybe it's not heat he's giving off. Maybe I've just convinced myself it's heat, maybe he's just being equally nice to both members of this water skiing party. Maybe later this afternoon he'll be just as nice to whichever party he's working for then... or maybe it is heat, I hope it is. Of course, just when I'm getting my hopes up that it's heat for me, Charlie rustles through his satchel and shows Chubby and me pictures of him and his girlfriend who's spending the summer with him and his family... that's just great, ain't it?! Chubby gushes over the pictures, while I'm content to stare at Charlie with a weird cockeyed grin on my face. Duh!

When Charlie's satisfied we're at a good spot to try some water skiing, I go in the water first. I'm wearing the safety belt which is a help when getting into the skis crouching in the water, but it's pretty much useless when I'm skiing. As soon as I'm in the proper crouch position with the towline bar between my legs, I signal for Charlie to hit the power. The boat roars into motion and up I come to stand on the skis, zipping over the top of the water leaving a wake behind each ski. Water skiing's lots of fun. After a few minutes of getting used to doing it again, I pull on the tow rope to one side and ski outside the boat's wake and then back behind it and then out to the other side of the boat hopping over the wakes in my path. Exciting!! It's not really all that hard once ya get the hang of it. After ten minutes or so, without me falling even once, Charlie shuts down the speed as I sink into the water and he circles around to pick me up so Chubby can try it. It takes three tries before Chubby gets the knack of it and stands up on the skis, but then he does great. As Charlie drives, I'm supposed to be looking back at Chubby so we'll know if he falls. I'm sitting next to Charlie doing that while he has his hand loosely on my thigh, but not in a sexy way. It's more like a friendly way... like the way you might pat your little brother to reassure him... something like that. Whenever I stand up I make sure to put a hand on Charlie's shoulder for support... you know, just for the contact. He's big on contact too so it's a lot of fun in the boat; not just the water skiing. Finished my third turn at skiing, after I climbed back into the boat, I slipped and cut my hand on the snap ring of an empty Coke can. Charlie has a first aid kit and he treats my cut like it's a serious injury. It was great having him hold my hand while he cleaned the cut, sprayed it with Bactine and covered it with a waterproof Band-aid. He looked me in the eyes, still holding my hand and, real serious like, but also with that constant grin of his, asks, "You okay, Pookie?" I nodded my head energetically, feeling like I was Charlie's little brother. More accurately... wishing I was Charlie's little brother, who he adores. God, Charlie's so sexy it's sick!

When both Chubby and I are in the water skiing together, a tow rope off both sides of the back of the boat, Charlie keeps his eye on a rearview mirror to see if one of us falls. Chubby and I look so cool with our tattoos and slim taut bodies, almost naked, skimming across the bay behind a powerful boat. It's fun to water ski, like I said, but even more so when it's Chubby and me side-by-side flying along at a good speed looking over at each other every couple of seconds smiling at our good fortune. The first hour and a half flies by without any problem, then the water skiing starts to be tiring, both to our arms and legs, so we take a break. Sitting in the boat listening to music and talking about ourselves a little bit gives me more opportunities to drool over Charlie. At one point when I'm gushing about how cool it must be to win water-skiing championships like Charlie has, Chubby looks over at me with this quizzical look on his face like, "What the fuck's wrong with you?" So, I tried to keep my ogling under wraps a little. After a while Charlie passes out sodas and sub sandwiches which hit the spot. As we eat Charlie tells a few funny stories about unsuccessful water skiing adventures he's had with especially inept clients who simply couldn't master the basics, they just couldn't grasp the simple concept of letting the boat pull you out of your crouch. Chubby looked proud of himself for doing it so successfully almost from the very start. Charlie noticed that and ruffled Chubby's hair laughing, "You two are so cool. Who's older?" He still thinks we're brothers even though we don't look alike at all. While filling out the rental form, as a shortcut Chubby used just his last name. He lies, "Dylan's the oldest, and I've had to wear his hand-me-downs all my life." Charlie pursed his lips chuckling, but I don't think he believed a word of it. I say, "Yes, it's true. Jeffrey especially liked wearing my hand-me-down jockey shorts and jockstraps... stuff like that, ya know." Charlie goes, "Riiiight!" and squeezes my neck pulling me into him, my arms go around his chest and our faces rub briefly together as the boat sways in the wake of another motorboat passing by. I'm groping myself regaining my footing. "You two are so much alike," he says, and then "Hey, do ya mind if I smoke?" We shook our heads and the three of us smoked Marlboro cigarettes from the traditional red box. God, I felt so cool! We water skied some more after that and then Charlie showed Chubby and me how to drive the boat so he could water ski himself for ten minutes or so. Wow! He did some tricks that were awesome! He said he wanted to "cool off," but I think show off was more like it. So what though, it was something to see and we felt this togetherness with Charlie like we were sort of proud of him... proud he knew us, or something like that. It never let up all morning, every chance he got, Charlie was in physical contact with either Chubby or me, sometimes both of us, and it felt so natural it was like we all knew each other for years. It was strangely like the way Gary and I bonded so easily earlier in the week.

Our rental time was up way too quickly to suit me. At the dock Chubby jumps out to tie our boat up in the slip and while he's doing that Charlie leans over to me and says, "Don't take this the wrong way, dawg, but I kinda got the impression you're gay, or at least a little gay for me. Am I right?" How does everyone know I'm gay?? I grunt, "Huh? Excuse me..?" He rubs my arm soothingly, saying, "It's okay. I'm mostly straight, but once in a while someone like you comes along and I'm not afraid to jump at the chance for something different. I'm a little bit bi, that's all." I cough and manage to say, "Huh? What's that?" but the word "that" came out as just a wheezy hiss. Charlie chuckles and says, "Would ya like a real fast quickie? I can arrange it and frankly, dawg, you got me all horned up." Finally remembering my oath to be crazy and wild I manage to hiss out, "How... um, where..?" He goes, "Watch this," and calls over to Chubby, "Jeff dawg, your brother loaded up this boat, how about if you return the equipment while I tend to his cut hand. You good with that, dawg?" Chubby's like, "You got it, Captain!" Charlie and I drift down the pier with him holding onto my bicep saying, "We'll take a quick trip to the locker room showers, as no one will be there at this time of the day." I go, "Um, okay." He squeezes my arm tighter, leans into me and says, "Hey, loosen up. This isn't the first time you've messed around, am I right? Oh, by the way, is it safe to do you bareback? I mean, I'm safe, are you?" I nod my head, sort of in a trance as usual. Can I believe this? Then I shake my head to clear it and say, "Yeah, I'm safe but this seems a little reckless, don't ya think?" He's like, "Yeah, it is but I believe you when ya say you're good and I know I'm safe and since I don't carry condoms with me... whaddaya gonna do?" He points and says, "Turn down here, dawg." He's walking us quickly off the pier, down behind the buildings and then through a door which led to changing rooms with lockers for day visitors who don't have a motel room to change in after water skiing or whatever. These are small private enclosures with a toilet, sink, bench, and small shower.

By now I'm taking quiet deep breaths to calm myself. I'm also reminding myself to appreciate my good luck here and make the very best time of it. Charlie is so hot! I shout to myself in my head, "Enjoy yourself! Be the slut you promised yourself you'd be! Make-up for the bareness of sexual action all summer!" Still, I'm nervous. Charlie immediately pulls his bathing suit down on his thighs and then pulls mine down to my ankles. He murmurs, "Nice dick... take off your swimsuit, okay?" I'm wearing Charlie's hat again, he puts his hand on top of my head to put pressure indicating I should get down on my knees. He quietly says, "We literally have five minutes, dawg. Let's make the best of it." He's got a normal looking five and a half inch cut cock and nice balls in an almost hairless sack. Regular pubes, quite dark but not real thick. He smells like bay water now, earlier he had a great personal scent that I wish was present now. I took his cock in my mouth as he held loosely onto my shoulders. Licking the head had him hissing quietly and murmuring, "Yeah, that's hot. Guys suck cock so much better than girls." This motivated me and I stroked, sucked and licked his cock into a nice boner in about a minute. I love sucking cock and I'm really good at it now. Holding his boner up against his belly I licked and sucked his balls until they were dripping spit and then did sucking kisses on the inside of his thighs near his package. "Jesus! You're good, dawg! Stand up now. Whoa, you got me really hot, you're awesome, Dylan!" I got up feeling proud of myself. Charlie turned me around, spit on my hole three times and pressed his dripping cock head against my anus. "Ready?" he whispered. I go, "Oh yeah!" and in it went feeling bigger than it looked. Charlie muttered, "Holy shit! This feels good..." as he steadily pushes his boner all the way up my ass. The pain was there but so was the thrill of having Charlie inside me, plus I knew the good part was coming soon enough. Charlie had me plugged up full and tight. I didn't feel I could move and that tiny sense of being dominated had my cock boning up nicely. He waited ten seconds, me blowing air out in spurts 'cause, like I said, it was tight with no lube. Charlie withdrew his cock, then pushed right back in slowly and I could feel his body shudder which made mine do the same. A quiet exhale from Charlie, then grabbing my hips he fucked me fast, grunting hard from the effort and blowing out lots of moist air onto my bare back. It was a really good fuck, but very fast and rough. I was stroking my cock while trying really hard not to let out the embarrassing squealing noises I sometimes make while being fucked. It feels so good though! I'm bent over now, holding onto the sink with one hand, stroking myself with the other. When I leaned over to grab the sink Charlie moved his hands to my shoulders and began pulling me into his thrust. Two minutes of that and I'm feeling the signs of climax building fast. His thrusts were getting more desperate, like he was close to climaxing too. I'm stroking my cock, up on my toes making quiet mewing sounds with each penetration... nothing feels as good as being fucked up the ass. I couldn't hold back my climax any longer, and making the squealing noises I was hoping to avoid, I shoot four streams of cum with each one feeling better than the preceding one. Impossibly erotic and so sensual that a tear rolled down my cheek; the pleasurable feelings in my ass and cock spread out to all parts of my body and the shivers and shudders were familiar, but no less awesome. Afterwards, I was still pushing back into Charlie's thrust while he's ramming his engorged cock up my ass pulling on my shoulders and hammering his crotch against me. Oh man, my toes were curling and I couldn't squeeze my fist around my boner tight enough to suit me. The continual buzzing in my balls and ass, plus the sensations all up and down my cock had me holding my breath and savoring the feelings. Charlie mumbles, "I'm cumming..." I'd calmed down slightly after my sharp climax, but when I felt his load shoot up my ass, and it was a nice one too, I got all hot and bothered again, stroking my boner even though I knew my balls were empty. Charlie's climax wasn't the biggest one I've ever experienced, but it was a pretty good shot of spunk and it felt real nice and squishy back there. Loving all that cum up my ass, I tightened my sphincter muscle for all I was worth, heightening the feel of Charlie's cock inside me. He humped my ass slapping his crotch against my buttocks making a wet sloppy "splat!" sound as cum drooled down my ass cheeks onto my legs. No spanking from Charlie even though I was thinking, "A few slaps on my ass would be hot..." Still, even without the slaps it was a good fuck.

Right after his climax Charlie laid on my back for a short few seconds, his cock still inside me. He took a deep breath, and said, "What an awesome ass you have!" He pulled his cock out as I looked at my watch. From beginning to end the fuck had taken six minutes. I was still feeling electric shock waves in my ass and groin as I breathlessly say, "We're a minute behind schedule, Charlie." He goes, "You're something alright, Dawg! Damn! I needed that. Maybe I'll give up my girlfriend and we can go steady. Whaddya say, Dylan?" He's in his usual light manner of speaking, pulling up his swimsuit. I do the same while thinking, "I know he's joking, but Gary wasn't when he suggested the same thing so right there I almost have two hot boys who wish I was around to be boyfriends with... sort of." Thinking how that may be stretching the truth just a little, but still it made me feel good to think about it just the same. As I'm looking behind me trying to wipe up the cum on the back of my legs, I say, "Sure, lets go steady, Charlie, you rock! You're girlfriend's lucky!" He gets serious and says, "Hey, dawg, that's very nice of you to say. Thanks, man!" and we bump fists. Then Charlie pats his hat that's on my head, and goes, "You keep this hat to remind you of me and mostly to cover-up that awful Mohawk haircut!" Patting my head again, in a nice voice he says, "You're too nice looking to have something extremely weird like a Mohawk. That's my opinion anyway, I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, Pookie... okay?" We're all put back together and ready to go, I say, "Thanks for the hat, Charlie, and, um... ya know, thanks for the compliment too and you're right, I should never have tried this fucking haircut. Never again!" It was barely a minute after Charlie climaxed and we're already up the walkway on the pier again. I can hardly believe we did it, but I feel great. Even so, it was almost too quick to fully enjoy. Let's see, from the proposition to right now it's been less than seven minutes... that's too quick for even me to appreciate it as much as I should! Still, I'm not complaining... my slutty Wildwood vacation is still rolling along! Ha ha!

By the time Charlie and I reemerged, Chubby had finished unloading the boat of our rental skies, safety belts, tow ropes, cooler and used towels. He's inside the office collecting our driver's licenses when he sees us through the window and waves with that famous Chubby smile. We wave back while Charlie's squeezing my bicep again, saying, "That was a really random act we just did, dawg. Will you tell your brother about it?" I mumble, "Nah, it's a private matter between you and me, Charlie." He smiles his own great smile, and says, "I don't get to do the guys too often, maybe four or five times a year. Actually, I prefer my girlfriend for screwing, but you boys give the best head." Chubby was almost to us by then so I couldn't acknowledge Charlie's latest compliment. Chubby and I had noticed the "TIPS ARE APPRECIATED" sign when we first got inside Harris' Boating and, not knowing any better, we'd decided a fifty dollar tip seemed appropriate. And, that's before we even knew our staff member would be Charlie, so we're pretty generous... I think. Chubby walked up and handed Charlie two twenties and a ten, saying, "Hey, it was great, Charlie, thanks, dude!" Charlie took the money without hesitating and said, "It was great alright! Thanks guys, this is really nice of you... you both rock!" We shook hands and Charlie was off for his lunch break. Just like that we were done. Charlie and me were back to being two ships passing in the night, and maybe we were both already looking for the next port of call, so ta speak. In any case, I felt super!

"Hey, Chub, how bout we try the jet skis now?" He was all for it so we go back inside the office, Charlie was nowhere in sight, and fifteen minutes later we're back out wearing safety vests, carrying two sets of keys to the jet skis; one for each of us. We're smiling to beat the band 'cause this is gonna be like one long thrill ride. We rented the jet skis only for an hour but it turned out to be an exhilarating hour (and a tad dangerous, too) so I think we had enough by the time the hour was up. After turning in the vests and keys we drove to the boardwalk in Ocean City to spend some time walking the boards. That's always a cool thing to do if you ask me, even though I didn't spot a particularly hot boy to ogle the whole time, not a single one. I wore Charlie's cap which pretty much cut out the people gawking at me like I've been experiencing ever since getting my Mohawk. There are Mac's Pizza shops in Ocean City too, and since the sub sandwich was just a memory by now Chubby and me had a late second lunch; we both ate a couple of slices of Mac's pizza and drank birch beers. A little later we drove back to Wildwood to sit with the moms on the beach telling them about our water skiing adventure. They were pretty much recovered from their hangovers and appeared interested in every detail of our day, nothing new there. Ya gotta love the moms, they're uber supportive of Chubby and me. Later I took my hat and shirt off and did some body surfing with Chubby, which we're both real good at. It was very relaxing, a lot of fun doing stuff with Chubby, although the "Charlie fuck" never was far from my mind. I couldn't believe my good fortune actually. I'd been thinking Charlie was so hot all morning and then out of the blue he fucks me. But, ya know, I'm still confused about how he knew I wanted him to fuck me? How the hell does everyone seem to know that? Not that I'm complaining, you understand... I'm just saying.

After dinner, Chubby called Mary Jo and discovered Marsha's feeling better and that the girls want to do something tonight, except not on the boardwalk. I was supposed to spend the day with the girls and Chubby, so I suggested that we all go to the movies which everyone was up for. I figured this would keep the need for chit chat to a minimum and pass the evening in a pleasant way, and it did. We saw Avatar in 3-D and the movie was impressive. The story was predictably sucky, but the technical stuff was awesome. Marsha got tired early though, so by eleven o'clock Chubby and I were back on our deck smoking a cigarette and reliving the day's activities. I wasn't horny at all so didn't pressure Chubby into anything special although we slept together as we usually do. We're so comfortable with each other, touching is no problem at all... it's preferred, even though Chubby sometimes pretends it's not. I didn't dream of sex, but I wish I had. Waking up before Chubby on Friday morning I take advantage of that situation and had a good time hugging Chubby and carefully rubbing his hair and leaning into his great ass. Oooh, he smells so good in bed, I rustled the covers to get the warm scented air from under the sheets to swoosh out... nice! And, no, there wasn't a trace of a fart smell 'cause we don't fart! Ha ha!

We got up late and discovered a big breakfast waiting for us. The moms prepared everything from scratch: pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, juice and coffee from Dunkin Donuts. Chubby and I were giving each other looks as we forced it down because the moms aren't the greatest cooks. Chub and me can cook rings around them, but we pretend the breakfast is really good just the same. The moms made faces at each other too, holding in giggles, and ate very little. It was kind of funny actually, as we were all pretending the breakfast was delicious; well, the coffee and juice really were good. Chubby spent most of Friday driving the girls around shopping. They were on the boardwalk, downtown Wildwood and even over to Cape May . I did not need to participate in the shopping, thank the gods for that! The girls, for some reason, apparently need to bring little presents for lots of people back home. When I saw Chubby and the girls later on the beach Chubby looked wiped out, pissed off too. I bit my lip to keep from laughing 'cause Chubby was not a happy camper. Hey, he's the one who thinks he needs a girlfriend, not me. I was extra upbeat, bouncing around with lots of energy, still feeling good about that random sex with Charlie yesterday. If I'd had the car this morning I'd probably have driven back to Ocean City and hung around until Charlie had a free six minutes... ha ha! No I wouldn't have done that! I know it was a once in a lifetime thing between us two, but it was special all the same. Special because he wanted, no probably needed to do it with me. That gave me a little boost of self-confidence. I had no dream about Charlie last night, but on the beach I thought about him most of the time, which prevented me from thinking as much about Robby as I usually do. I thought about Gary too, but there's no way around it: the Robby dilemma is hanging over my head like a fifty pound balloon filled with doo doo and it needs to be dealt with somehow. Still, on the positive side, it's been great all week not needing to fight the horny urges I've normally got to deal with. I lounged in the beach chair and enjoyed my surroundings, feeling content with myself, satisfied and maybe a little bit proud of myself for taking the chances I've taken. The negative right now is that the novelty of the Mohawk haircut has totally worn off and now I hate it. I do have Charlie's hat to wear which partially eliminates the problem. Anyway, this morning I noticed a shadow of hair at the scalp level after only three days so it seems Mohawk man's depilatory cream wasn't left on my scalp long enough to work the way it was supposed to; he was rushed. I can't wait till my hair's long enough so it can be level buzz cut and this fucking Mohawk is a thing of the past. Damn, I do dumb things! And there's still the Robby problem, as I mentioned. Life is never perfect, is it? There's always something!

I was concentrating on enjoying my sunbathing when Chubby led the girls down to the ocean to drown the both of them... ha ha! No, he wanted to teach them how to body surf which, as I observe from my beach chair, they couldn't seem to get the hang of at all. With a grin on my face, I watched their ineptness for a while, then sauntered down to swim out and show-off by body surfing skills from way out where the waves are big and can carry me all the way in to the beach. It's obvious Chubby wants to join me with the good waves out here but he's stuck baby-sitting the babes... too bad, the waves out here are perfect this afternoon. It'd be nice if I had someone cute to body surf into, but there's no one except Chubby. Guess he'll have to do. Hee hee! I went gliding into him and took him down from behind without him seeing me coming. Under the water we both go floundering around and Chubby comes up ready for a fight. He sees it's me though and a grin breaks out through his scowl. He hugs me and says, "I thought I recognized that groping hand." We hugged for a fraction of a second too long as I realized my horniness was back. The Charlie fuck of yesterday has worn-off and I'm growing a boner from hugging Chubby. He had to forcibly pull himself away, saying quietly, "Come on, Dylan... don't, okay?" My boner had been pressing against his stomach. I waded after him acting smart-ass by whispering, "Can't we do some old time goofy stuff tonight like we used to do?" He goes, "Shhh, for Christ sakes! The girls are right there." I made a face like, "they can't hear me!" Chubby, maybe feeling he had yelled at me for no real reason, mumbles, "Maybe we can do something later, you kept your word about hangin' with the girls last night so I owe you." That was a shock, I hadn't really expected a commitment of any kind, but... Yes!! That's sweet!!

This is Mary Jo and Marsha's last night, and since Chubby intimated that he and I might do something touchy/feely together later on, I agreed to go with Chubby and the girls to dinner. Marsha of course considered me her "date" and therefore she felt she has the right to insist I not wear Charlie's hat; she goes, "I love that Mohawk, Dylan!" We ate at a waterfront restaurant and spent the rest of the stolen money and some of our own. Beginning tomorrow we'll need to spend all our own money. Stolen money sure doesn't go far at the shore! When ordering dinner in a restaurant Chubby never disappoints: he always makes a big fuss trying to order alcoholic drinks. This time it was martinis all around... "extra dry with olives". The waitress laughed in his face not even bothering to card any of us. When she was done laughing she asked, "Are your parents here, kids? Do they get the bill from this table?" Mary Jo goes, "There's no need to be a bitch about it! He's kidding you and you know it. We'll all have cranberry juice... can you handle that?" Oh boy, the look on the waitress' face was like ice water in our laps but she just strutted off without comment. Not exactly relaxing, if ya know what I mean. Having knots in my stomach makes it a tiny bit difficult to enjoy my meal. A minute later a man comes over to the table and asks, "Is there a problem?" Chubby uses his phony sincere voice to say, "Gosh, I hope not, but I don't think the waitress likes us. Are you the manager 'cause my father's in the other dining room and he's more than a little pissed off at the way we're being treated, and when he gets hot... well, are you the manager?" The man mumbled something about there wasn't any need for a manager and he hopes we enjoyed our dinner. He took two steps away, turned back and said, "Your drinks are on the house." When the guy disappeared, Chubby gets excited, "Have ya ever had a martini Mary Jo? They're the bomb!" When the drinks arrived, however, they turned out to be of the virgin cranberry variety. Chubby goes, "Oh fuck!" and Mary Jo scolds, "Jefffffrey! Language!" I smirked at him as he gave her the finger behind his menu. The whole night went like that. We ended up on the boardwalk going on rides, which should have been fun except Marsha got her shorts ripped getting off the tilt-a-whirl which caused her to let out a stream of f-bombs 'cause they were brand new shorts she'd just bought today and they'd been ripped in a way they can't be repaired, and on and on it went. Mary Jo's ice cream fell off the top of her cone when she went to lick it and landed on her new sandals, staining them. You would have thought a group of drunken sailors were cursing at a group of drunken soldiers to hear the f-bombs coming from the girls. Apparently the girls are allowed to say "fuck" but Chubby and I aren't. Anyway, I was amused beyond belief because it was like a comedy of errors all night. I even had a bloody taste in my mouth from biting my lip to keep from guffawing. To be honest, mostly I was relieved and grateful that I don't have a girlfriend and I swore that after tonight it'll be a long, long time before I spend another evening with one of these female types.

Marsha and I, out of necessity, spent the last part of our "date" sitting on her back porch just like the other time we went "out". After changing her ripped shorts she sat close to me and took my hand. One thing led to another and I was forced to do a half-ass make-out with her. I did it because I didn't want to hurt her feelings and because I'm still too big a coward to come out to everyone. Chubby knows I'm gay and so do my gay friends of course, but that's it so far. During our make-out I even felt-up her tits which had me gagging and then, 'cause I was curious, I goosed her ass and let me tell ya, a girl's ass is mushy, while a boy's ass is firm and just perfect! So, I learned something. After a bit she was getting hot and bothered; she told me that making out with a guy who has a Mohawk gets her uber hot. To her, the Mohawk gives me a bad boy image; she also complimented me on being wicked good looking. Well, I already knew that but the bad boy thing was new, and kinda cool too. I, of course, never felt a stirring in my dick but she seemed to feel one in her whatever-ya-call-it and she also seemed interested in discovering if I was prepared to fuck her. I say that because she kept trying to poke my lap and I kept avoiding it. After what seemed like twelve hours of groping and kissing, the horn blew on the Jeep meaning Chubby was finished fucking Mary Jo and ready to go. Marsha spits out, "Oh shit!" which wasn't real lady-like. I stayed calm though, and just to amuse myself, I say, "To hell with them, Marsha, I'll get a cab home. Where's your bedroom?" She seemed startled but then I was saved again 'cause here comes Mary Jo around the side of the house saying, "Marsha? You back here? The front door's locked." Marsha mutters, "Oh fuck!" and I had to do one of my world-famous fake coughs to cover my blurted-out laugh. Marsha snapped her head around to look at me so maybe she heard the laugh, but Mary Jo was there by then and so Marsha and I both stand up. "Hi, Mary Jo," I say, real cheerful-like. She says, "Oh, guys, I hope I'm not breaking anything up!" Marsha sneers, "Whatever gave you that thought, dear?" and I coughed again, I'm so glad it was dark back there. The horn sounded again so I reluctantly said goodnight and Marsha comes over and whispers in my ear, "To be continued, Mohawk man!" I gasp a laugh and fake-coughed at the irony of her calling me Mohawk man, and so was only able to grunt out, "You bet.." while choking back another guffaw.

Chubby drove us home where we found the moms on the deck so we drank Beck's light beers and smoked and talked till 2 A.M. It was just one of those times that we all felt like talking. The moms are spending the day and evening tomorrow in Atlantic City playing blackjack, the slot machines... and the field. They're always trying to pick-up cute guys and like I said before, they think almost every guy is cute so they're sure to be successful. I sometimes think I get my sex drive from my mother's side but always switch topics in my head and think about something else when that thought comes up, because thinking about sex and my mother in the same sentence does not work for me at all. Sitting here right now it just occurred to me that the moms, Mary Jo, and Marsha will all be gone by noon tomorrow; a week into our vacation and Chubby and I will finally be alone. I chuckled thinking he and me will probably be in a fight by mid-afternoon, not talking to each other. Nah! We don't do that. We'll have a great time, we always do.

Getting to bed so late means we get up late; we didn't get up until eleven o'clock Saturday morning. Chubby was like, "Oh shit! I was supposed to see Mary Jo off this morning!" He skipped breakfast and drove over to Wildwood Crest hoping to catch the girls before they left for home. I lazily drank coffee on the deck feeling relaxed and maybe a little bit smug. After all, with the possible exception of my stupid Mohawk hairdo, I've had an excellent week. Oh yeah, I also need to eliminate the memory of that unfortunate spanking the Mohawk man gave me. But, except for those two things my week rocked! Making new friends and doing lots of hot sex in the process. I'm feeling kinda cocky 'cause I didn't chicken out of even one opportunity that presented itself, and as a result I'm not horny in the least. I'm good, I'm doing just fine, thank you very much.... well, except for Robby. Damn! Now I'm not feeling so cocky. Lifting my new Charlie cap to rub my strip of Mohawk hair, I'm thinking, "Before she leaves, why don't you grab your mom's Blackberry and call Robby, numbnuts!" Ooh, now I feel nervous. What should I say to him? Hmmm? I walk inside like a robot and go directly to my mom's beach bag... her Blackberry is the first thing I see when I open the bag. Oh shit! I take the cell phone out on the deck holding it with both hands like it might break. My heart's beating a nervous thump, thump, thump! Taking a deep breath, I dial Robby's cell phone number, a number I know so well, and before the first ring is finished Robby's saying, "Hello, is that you, Dylan?" I go, "Hi Robby, 'sup?" He's talking fast, "What's up? You gotta be shitting me! I saw your mother's caller ID and knew it was you. Why haven't you answered my text messages? Why haven't you called or answered when I called you? I'm so pissed off at you it's not even funny!" Then in a much lower voice... quiet and slower, "But I love you so much, Dylan... I've been so worried. What happened, why have you shut me out like this?" I say, "Umm, you don't know why? What do ya think you've done recently that might piss me off?" Robby's silent for a second, then asks, "You're pissed off at me? I didn't know that... I'm sorry for whatever it is that made you mad, can't we just forget about whatever it was, ya know? Just ignore whatever it was...?"Then, meekly he adds, "What was it exactly? Something to do with work?" He's thinking it might be the Chad thing. Hmmm?

I find myself holding my breath 'cause I think he has an idea of what it might be and he's probably hoping it's something else. Taking a big silent breath, I say, "Not now, Robby; we'll talk about it later. As for why I didn't answer your text messages, I left my cell phone at home, by accident. And, umm... I love you too. Even though, you know, you did whatever you did... I still love you." He mumbles, "Can you give me a hint, Dylan? About, you know, whatever it is? I'm kinda upset and I'll be worried about it until you get home." I can't think of the right way to handle this, my brain isn't working fast enough so I quietly say, "Here's a clue: Dodger and Vinnie." When I said that, it unintentionally comes out as a weird airy whisper. Robby gasps, starts to say something, then nothing for a few seconds before, "What? Who?" In a flat tone, but not mean or angry sounding, I say, "You heard me, Robby. It's gonna be alright, but I was pissed; being left in the dark and all, ya know? Made me feel like a fool, but I'm getting over it." Robby's probably rationalizing to himself that I couldn't possibly know about the threesomes so he says, "Ah, I don't understand. What does Dodger and Vinnie have to do with you and me?" Just then Chubby yells up from the street, "Yo Dylan, do ya want another coffee? I'm gonna get one. I missed the girls so Mary Jo's gonna be pissed at me." Holding the phone to my chest I walk over to the railing to look down on Chubby, he looks so cute to me, such an important and wonderful part of my life, it's so calming and reassuring to see him just now. I yell down, "A small regular coffee will be awesome, bro... and thanks. I'm talking to Robby." Chubby yells, "Say 'Hi' for me," and a voice yells from someplace, "Shut-up why don't ya!" Chubby smirks at me and gives the finger in the direction of the rude voice before getting back in the Jeep and driving away waving at me through the side window. I'm in a daze for a second, then put the Blackberry to my ear and hear, "Dylan? Dylan, can you hear me?" After hearing Robby's voice the scene in the garage doesn't seem as horrible to me now, it's weird, but it just doesn't. What's so terribly wrong about it? I mean, it's not right somehow, but is it life or death? I don't think so. Robby and Dodger haven't been honest with me, but it's not worth losing Robby over. I say, "Oh, that was Chubby asking me something. He says to say 'Hi' to you for him." Robby quietly says, "Hi" back to him. Um, Chubby's not mad at me?" I go, "No, I didn't tell him. Look Robby, I was at your house last Friday, late afternoon. I saw you in the garage, ya know. I was looking through the window and didn't want to disturb you three, so I left. I'm working through it now, but I'm mystified why you guys left me in the dark and all. I called you this morning just to check in and tell you I still love you. I didn't know I was gonna mention the garage thing though. That's about it except we're having a good time here and, like they say, I wish you were here." Robby goes, "Oh! Last Friday, huh? That was, that thing with Vinnie too, is that what you mean?" I go, "Yeah, that thing." He's like, "Well, umm... that was ah, that wasn't my idea, ya know. Umm, it wasn't, that's not what I... ah... I'm sorry, Dylan. I..." My anger was building up again for some reason so I just said, "We'll deal with it, Robby. I'm certainly not perfect and there's no reason I should expect you to be. I gotta go... I just wanted to connect with you. We'll talk everything out when I get home. Okay?" Robby goes, "I'm so sorry you saw that, Dylan. I love you so much... I've been in love with you before I even officially knew you... please don't dump me or my fucking heart will fucking break!" He was crying and that made me start crying too. I blubbered, "I won't dump you! I already told ya I love you too! I gotta go. Bye."

Stunned... that's how I felt... stunned! I didn't have any idea I was going to bring that up... it just came out. My heart was pounding fast and hard, but I think I felt better for having the subject out in the open. I could have handled it better I guess, but how? Oh shit, it a hundred different ways! Dialing his number again, he picked right up and said, "Dylan, you hung up on me." I say, "I didn't mean to. Let's say a nice goodbye for now. Everything will be okay. We need to talk, that's all. Okay?" He sounded like a little kid when he said, "Okay. You still love me, right?" I say, "Right, I really do." He mumbles, "Did ya hear me crying like some dumb broad? Embarrassing! It's embarrassing alright, but I don't wanna lose you, Dylan... I'm not gonna lose you, am I?" I thought of the song he sang to me on the train to New York City and say, "No, you're not gonna lose me; you're stuck with me. Now say a nice goodbye so I can enjoy the rest of my vacation." He goes, "Thanks for giving me another chance. I can't wait to see you and explain what happened. Bye, Dylan... have a great trip back home." I just said 'goodbye' and broke the connection 'cause we were getting too dramatic; I have a thing about not being too dramatic... we sounded like a couple of girl drama queens. Sitting there on the deck looking at the Atlantic Ocean that I could barely see through the opening between the condo buildings, I tried to think how I felt and one word appeared above all others... relieved! I felt relief that I'd connected with Robby and that his response had been pretty much what I'd hoped for. He said he was sorry and he said he wanted to explain. So, he admits there was something to be sorry about, but that there's extenuating circumstances that need explaining. Then I thought of my sexual escapades this week and wondered how much of those I'd ever tell Robby about. Probably none, so I gotta give him a lot of slack if I want to be fair... a lot of slack! Then I realized how worried I'd been about how Robby would handle me confronting him with that garage three-way sex orgy. Yes, I was worried it might elicit a defiant reaction, a challenging stance like "Yeah, what about it?" or worse. I'm greatly relieved it went so well.

Interrupting my contemplations, Chubby barged out onto the deck with my second coffee of the morning; as usual he's full of energy talking up a blue streak about how his ass is gonna be grass when he sees Mary Jo again because he was supposed to be there to see her off and blah, blah, blah. In short order I felt like I was floating; clearing the air with Robby to the extent we managed is a load off my mind. We still love each other, but we're also still eighteen-year old boys with hot sex drives and poor judgement. We all need a lot of slack, me especially, I guess. The extent of my relief was just sinking in, therefore that floating-on-air sensation I was experiencing. It's hard to articulate but I felt real good about everything now. Chubby talked on and I've always loved the sound of his voice, but right now I'm daydreaming about my true love, Robby. It's startling to realize how much I love Robby's voice too, and how much I wanted to be with him again and how much I was afraid one of us would do something stupid to split us up over this garage thing. I so want to be with him naked, our bodies squirming against each other; me savoring his odor, his beautiful face and the taste of his mouth. Chubby yells, "Dylan!" I'm like, "Huh? What...?" He's laughing, "You were playing with yourself, right in my face no less!" I'm going, "You lie! No way was I playing with myself... I was adjusting my big dick, that's all. If I had a tiny dick it wouldn't need adjusting, ya know?" He laughed and we made plans for the day. Later on we're gonna eat lunch on the boardwalk and then walk the entire beach from one end to the other. If we get hot we'll jump in the ocean which, wouldn't ya know, is conveniently located right next to the beach! I felt light and happy and healthy and very, very lucky!

Chubby's in a very good mood too and I know why, obviously it's because Mary Jo is on her way to Framingham. I'm not going to rub it in though because I don't want to take a chance on ruining this time we have together. Chubby and I bumped into each other as we walked side by side on the sidewalk heading for the boardwalk. It reminds me of us walking to school doing the same thing, geez, that's twelve years of walking to school together. Well, in the early school grades we walked to the bus stop together, but wherever there was to walk we did it side by side rubbing against one another. It's the perfect way to walk. On the boardwalk we met some kids from school and it was like, "Whassup, dude?" and then a quick hand shake and one arm hug with a pat on the back. All the guys know the routine and we do it without thinking. Then after an hour on the boardwalk we're down on the beach gawking at all the people sunbathing or playing beach games, thousands of people and then bingo, out of all the strange faces there's a face you recognize. It's fun running into someone we know from the neighborhood or school. The exception to that is running into Chubby's girl friends from high school. To clarify: I mean friends of Chubby's who happen to be girls, as opposed to girlfriends like Mary Jo. Mary Jo's the only acknowledged girlfriend Chubby's ever had, and that beats my girlfriend total by one. But the other type of girl friend? I swear I don't get it... why have a friend that's a girl when guy friends are so much cooler. Anyway, I light a cigarette and try acting cool while he babbles on with the girls, laughing and goofing around like mad. Thank God I've got Charlie's hat to wear or I'd need to explain the Mohawk to everyone and what can I say to explain it? "Oh, I let this freaky guy give me a Mohawk so he'd fuck me... ya know?" I'm spared that anyhow.

We're almost to First Street when Chubby yells, "Holy shit! Is that Ronny Barnes sitting with that fat girl?" I go, "Where?" then see who he's referring to and yes, it's our old neighbor, Ronny. Ronny's three years older than us; he lived next to our condo for years before the company his father worked for transferred the family to Delaware. We hadn't seen Ronny for a couple of years now. He used to let Chubby and me play basketball with him and his friends even though we were a lot younger. When someone's sixteen and someone else is thirteen, the three years' difference seems huge to kids. Chubby and I sort of had a little hero worship going on for Ronny because he made the older kids be nice to us. Chubby shouts, "Hey, Ronny Barnes! Don't they have an ocean in Delaware, dude?" Ronny looks over and yells, "Well look at you two! My two favorite Framingham boys! Get over here!" We walk over and Ronny gives us the handshake/hug routine and I smell the booze on his breath right away. I say, "Ronny, looking good, dude, but don't you know it's illegal to drink on the beach?" He's like, "Dylan, baby! You're always worried about something, ain't ya?" then to his girlfriend, "Dylan's the best looking kid in the whole fucking town of Framingham." He's squeezing my cheeks together with his thumb on one side and his fingers on the other, saying, "Look at that face, Susz!" then to me, "Hey, since when did I ever give a shit if something's legal or not, Dylan? Ha ha ha! You've really grown, dude." He's quite drunk. I'm just grinning at him and feeling good about his compliment as he reaches down to grab his cup, "Susie here, and me, we need a little rum and coke from time to time, don't we hon?" He introduces us to his girlfriend who's drunker than Ronny is and she slurs, "Hey, Ronny's right; you boys are wicked cute," as her greeting. Then a swallow from her drink, and, "Have a fuckin' rum and coke with us, boys. Live a little!" I'm looking around for the beach patrol as Chubby's saying, "Sounds good, Susie!" Ronny gets me in a headlock saying, "Lighten-up, Dylan!" and my cap falls off so we talked about my Mohawk a bit; me calling myself stupid for getting it.

Meantime Susz is rustling around in a cooler getting ice and coke into paper cups, then she adds rum from a bottle that's hidden in a paper bag and hands Chubby and me the drinks she's made. I take a sip and it's ghastly, tastes mostly like rum. I say, "Yum! That's good, thanks Susie!" Chubby taste his and blurts out a laugh 'cause he knows I'm bullshitting about it being good. Chubby and I sat on a blanket, Ronny and Susie were in beach chairs, and us three guys were telling stories to Susie about our early Framingham days together. During the half an hour we did that I managed to get the drink down, but refused seconds; so did Chubby. Ronny continued being very complimentary of Chubby and me by exaggerating our exploits on the basketball court and on the high school soccer field where we played two-hand touch football with the older kids. Ronny was always a good kid, but reckless as hell too; he got into trouble on a regular basis. Apparently he hasn't changed. It was around five o'clock when we finished our drinks; our two drunk friends informed us they had to meet Susie's parents for dinner at six o'clock and needed to get to the motel and shower. I'd like to be a fly on the wall at that dinner. Of course, Susie's parents might be drunk too, who knows. Anyway, Ronny insisted Chubby and I have the half bottle of rum that was left, he says, "Have yourself a party on me guys. It was awesome seeing you two." Susie and Ronny had finished off what was left of one bottle and drank less than half of this one so Chubby and I didn't argue, just took the rum and said thanks.

Watching Ronny and Susie stagger up the beach toward the street lugging their beach chairs in one hand, carrying the cooler between them with the other, was funny. That scene had Chubby and me smirking at each other 'cause Ronny and Susie would pull apart in different directions as they staggered toward the street with their hands on the cooler the only thing keeping them from drifting in different directions. It was quite a sight. Chubby goes, "Let's you and me see if we can get as drunk as Susie and Ronny. We'll have a private party tonight. What do ya say, bro?" I'm like, "Count me in, but let me make the friggin' drinks, I gotta have more coke than was in this drink. That rum is gross." With me carrying the bottle of rum in a paper bag, we begin walking back down the beach heading for our street a long way off. In reference to the drink being too strong, Chubby says, "You can be such a pussy sometimes." He's joking, but I say, "You know all about pussies; I sure don't." He's like, "Ya ever smell a girl's snatch?" I'm like, "Don't fucking gross me out, you know I've got a weak stomach." We ragged on each other all the way back, but I'm thinking, "Hmmm? Chubby gets real relaxed when he drinks... maybe if things go just right his true nature will break through the Mary Jo facade!" We took showers when we got back, first me, then Chubby. The moms left us a note with thirty dollars paper-clipped to it. The note read, "Get yourselves a good meal, boys! Love ya both so much!" Jeez, they're good moms. We were at a restaurant last night with the girls though, so we didn't want to do that again. Instead we spent the money on take-out lobster rolls like the ones I had with the moms earlier in the week. I got deep fried onion rings with mine and Chubby got french fries with his so we both could have some of each, along with containers of cole slaw on the side. There's great take-out food at the Jersey shore. Excellent dinner tonight! Thunder was sounding as we ate our dinner and the rain came down hard just as we were finishing up. The rain pinged off the deck as it came down in sheets, along with all kinds of thunder and lightning and pouring rain. Chubby says, "How fortuitous we ran into Ronny Barnes when we did. If we didn't have his rum what could we possibly do for fun on a rainy night at the shore?" I go, "I know what that word means, ya know." He says, "Fortuitous? Did you a posteriori the meaning or did you know it outright?" I say, "The first thing." He laughs and squeezes my hand. I love when he does that... he's so cool!

There's an awning on the deck that we let down; it covers ten feet out from the back door. We sat under it drinking rum and cokes while watching the rain; we watched the lightning and thunder show too and it was scary and awesome at the same time. We talked about going to college and about how Chubby monopolizes our jointly owed Jeep and about how he's not going to do that anymore. We both know he will though, but it's okay with me. On our second drink he asks, out of the blue, "Are you really gay, Dylan, or do you just think it's cool to say you are?" I ask, "Do you really like having a girlfriend or do you think it's just cool to say you have one?" He goes, "I asked first." I take a big swallow of rum and coke, and say, "Chubby, I didn't realize I was gay or was unwilling to admit it to myself until the third semester of my junior year, but yes, I'm definitely gay and ya know, I wish you were too. That's what I really wish for. It's my fantasy 'cause nothing could ever be better than that." He's quiet for a few seconds and then in a serious voice says, "That's embarrassing, Dylan. You should use a filter when you're saying stuff like that because when you come out with stuff so directly ya don't leave me much wiggle room. But, damn, I guess I should say 'thanks!' You know I love you, too." "But like a brother, right?" I mumble. He mumbles back, "Yeah, bro, like a brother, only more so." I'm not sure what that means, but I let it drop to ask again, "And you with your girlfriend?" He says, "I like girls and they like me. They're fun to tease and mess around with, but to be honest the steady girlfriend thingie isn't all it's cracked up to be. Mary Jo is too clingy and she isn't happy unless we're always doing stuff together." I take another big swallow of my drink thinking that it doesn't taste too bad now. Then I think, "I totally agree with Mary Jo about being with you all the time, Chubby." Naturally I didn't say that and, by the way, I said second drink but counting the one on the beach, this is our third. I don't feel drunk but I am less inhibited than I normally am or I wouldn't have asked, "How about your sex life with Mary Jo, Chub?" He takes a deep breath and says, "It's okay. No bells and whistles going off, but getting laid feels good. Ya know, what can I say? Getting my cookies off is hot stuff. How 'bout you?"

Thunder so loud I wanted to hold my ears and then a quick bright crackling flash of lightning shoots across the night sky brightening it for a few scary seconds. That lightning bolt must have been close to us because it followed the thunder so quickly; or is it the other way around? And, damn! Chubby sure came right out with that stuff about sex. Hmmm? I say, "You mean me and Robby?" He goes, "Whoever." I'm certainly not going to mention Charlie; instead I'll keep it general. I mutter, "Um, same as what you said except there are bells and whistles going off." He laughs and goes, "Lucky you!" We both take big gulps of rum and coke. Gee, we've never talked about this intimate stuff before. I take a chance and ask, "When you and me did it that time, graduation night; what was that like for you, Chubby?" He lights a cigarette, takes a big drag and passes it to me, then talks as the smoke drifts from his mouth, "I don't remember much about it, bro... we we're both hammered that night. Sorry I can't be more positive, but I don't recall. Because it was with you I don't have a particularly bad feeling about it, if that's what ya mean." I'm nodding my head wondering if he's telling me the truth because we weren't that drunk. He fills the silence with, "You do know that you're the most important person in my life and my love for you is unconditional, right? I've told you this many times, Dylan. There isn't anything you could do that would make me stop loving you, but I'm simply not gay... I can't make myself be gay even for you." Tears silently begin running down my face like they do anytime he says things like that and I'm not even sure exactly which part of his speech is responsible for the tears. He's not looking at me, he's staring out into the night so I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and then wipe my eyes with my left forearm; my drink is in my right hand along with the burning cigarette. Done wiping my eyes, I lift the cigarette for another long drag, then manage to say, "Thanks, Chubby. I know and, well, thanks. Here take this," and I pass him the cigarette, adding, "Two more drinks coming up." Chubby drains his glass and mumbles, "Thanks, bro..."

In the kitchen I bite my lip to stop the crying, wipe my face with a wet paper towel then dry it with another. Taking a big breath, I'm back in control of myself, if a little tipsy. I made the drinks with less ice and equal parts rum and coke; maybe a little more rum than coke. Actually these are much like the one Susie made us on the beach. Back out on the deck the rain was still coming down, but not as hard. I hand Chubby his drink and ask, "How about all that stuff you did with Ricky? Any bells and whistles with that?" Chubby's like, "Jesus, Dylan, come right out with whatever's on your mind. Don't hold back, don't be shy!" I'm like, "Fuck shy! What's the scoop?" He laughs, "You're drunk, bro!" and he reaches over to knock my hat off and rub my Mohawk. I say, "I hate this thing now, but my hair's growing back already." Chub shrugs and says, "Yeah, I guess a Mohawk is a tad extreme at that. The Ricky thing is a mystery to me, Dylan. I don't know how I got in so deep but he and his old man were masters of seducing us kids into thinking we're special. They paid us more than anyone else, and it was fun in the early going. It was like an exclusive club, ya know?" I go, "How so?" Chubby explained that he'd been flattered at the way Ricky seemed to like him so much and how Ricky made Chubby the second in command, further making him feel important. The ensuing spanking routine was initiated as a joking motivating factor to ensure everyone was carrying his own weight on the job. The guys were the ones who decided who got the spankings, although they were administered by Ricky or his father. Chubby says it was funny as hell at first but little by little it led to bare ass spankings. Chubby felt he was protected by Ricky and got this man-crush going for him. That led to private sessions where Ricky gave Chubby his spankings out of the view of the others because Chubby's special. The spankings turned into fondling, and then Ricky talked Chubby into allowing finger fucking instead of spankings. Chubby said he felt he was brainwashed and very much under Ricky's spell.

He got quiet staring out into the darkness, then muttered, "Now when I think back on it I can't believe that was me, Dylan." He got up then and took my glass to make us another drink. He'd told me most of this in his confession that night we decided to get revenge on Ricky after he'd given Chubby an especially bad spanking... revenge through Jake. Still, I have a feeling I'm going to hear more tonight than I heard that other night. Chubby brought out not only the drinks but a bowl of popcorn that he set on the little table between our chairs. The rain was almost over now. I took a swallow of rum, lit a cigarette and asked, "The bells and whistles, Chubby... what about them?" He swallowed a big gulp, took my cigarette and said, "I came to like it; like what Ricky was doing to me. Is that what you want to hear? Well, I did. No use lying to myself. If I hadn't liked it in some sick way it never could have gone on as long as it did. When he started doing, you know, with his dick up my ass... um, well I hated myself but he seemed like such a dominant figure in my life by then I felt I should like it so I talked myself into liking it. I rationalized that it was the least I could do considering all Ricky had done for me. Now, of course, I realize that was idiotic thinking." I was quiet as Chubby took another sip of his drink and a deep inhale from the Marlboro. "Ya know, I even spunked a couple of times when he was, ah... fucking me. God, what a loser I was and you saved me, bro. You turned your mom's boyfriend loose on those bastards and they kicked ass and burned their fucking house down. I still owe ya for that." He had tears coming down his cheeks now, but I wouldn't draw attention to that 'cause it would embarrass Chubby even more. I look away and mumble, "They didn't get it bad enough if ya ask me, and you did so pay me back. You kicked Joel's ass up and down the fucking block, dude! Whipped that fucker's ass good." Chubby's wiping his eyes the same way I'd wiped mine; with his forearms... first the right, then the left, switching hands with his drink. He goes, "We've had our bad times, Dylan, but we're still standing, ya know?" I go, "Fucking-A we are!" I always wonder what that means anyway. He mumbles, "Fuck with either one of us at your own peril!" I say, "Fuckin-A!"

We drank our drinks which were going down easy by now; we were drinking them like they were Cokes. No wonder Ronny and Susie got plowed; these babies sneak up on you. Chubby says, as if he can't believe it, "Spunking because a guy's got his dick up my ass. Man oh man, was I ever messed up in the head, no offense intended. Brainwashed, Dylan, that's what it fucking was, brainwashing!" Then he went on to repeat a lot of other stuff he's just said earlier so I'm thinking he's even more hammered than me. When I get up to make us yet another rum and coke the porch spun around on me and I wound-up on my ass. Chubby's laughing and making fun of me as he's helping me up. I'm embarrassed that I fell, especially since I'd just assumed Chubby was more drunk than me. Other than being a little embarrassed though, the high from the rum made me feel awesome; who cares if I tripped. Getting high is fun! And, what the hell, when Chubby was helping me up I took the opportunity to lean on that boy's taut body; he does have a great little body on him. He says, "Okay, bro... no gay stuff." I go, "Whaddaya mean?" and he says, "Well, I just spilled my guts to you about that fag Ricky; no offense, but it's not intended as an invitation for you to take advantage of our great friendship, okay?" I say, "Oh, come on, Chub. We've been supporting and helping each other out our whole life, if I need a hug from you you're gonna give me one! Now hug my ass!" Chubby chuckled and says, "You're incorrigible!" He's hugging me by wrapping both arms around me and swaying slightly, mumbling, "Okay, you're right." He even kisses my cheek and I love that so much. Unfortunately, the shift in his body when he leans in for the kiss makes him lose his balance and, during the kiss, we both fall onto the little table breaking it and sending the bowl of popcorn out onto the deck. I'm laughing as I moan, "My fucking back is broken!" Chubby's laughing hysterically, he catches his breath to say, "Thank god you were there to break my fall, Dylan! That was so brave of you! I'm fine, don't worry about me, I'm good!" I'm like, "Fuck you, help me up, goddammit." We're on our feet, then both of us stagger inside still giggling like, well, like a couple of drunks.

I remember a little bit more of the conversation that night; it was also about me and Robby not being able to do the dirty deed as much as we wanted to this summer, but I believe, if I'm remembering correctly, that Chubby's comments indicated he was having a different conversation than the one I was having. Jesus, this is the drunkest we've ever been. Somehow we obviously had gotten ourselves undressed and into bed because right now I've just awakened and I'm thinking I'm still a little drunk. Then I notice Chubby is in my arms breathing the worst breath in my face imaginable. Cigarettes and rum, plus not brushing his teeth before bed, equals hellaciously bad halitosis. It was burning my sinuses; my breath was probably just as bad, but that's Chubby's problem... his bad breath is my problem. For the first time I can remember I rolled Chubby away from me; got him facing in the other direction. Holy shit! I'm never drinking rum again; cross that vile substance off my list of beverages forever! More importantly, for the moment, is the fact I need to pee so badly it's painful. I stumble getting out of bed and then grab hold of the bedpost to steady myself as a wave of dizziness passes over me. Giggling at myself about how fucked-up I still am; then staring off into space wondering how late we stayed up. I've no recollection of going to bed at all. Weird! Steadier now, I make it to the bathroom and sway slightly as my pee flow starts and what a relief! On man, peeing is awesome! I splash some on the toilet seat and say, "Oops!" then giggle some more. Ahhh! Done with my peeing, I wash my hands and face and then pile Crest toothpaste on my Sonic toothbrush and turn that baby on. Oh, it feels so good to brush my teeth. Five minutes later I rinse my mouth out, then energetically gargle Listerine Artic Mist mouthwash until I start giggling again at the outlandish noises I'm making in my throat... I'm like a five year old. Spitting out the mouthwash I realize I'm dying of thirst so stagger into the kitchen and drink orange juice right from the carton... ewww, it tastes horrible right after using mouthwash so I grab a bottle of cold water and almost drain the thing in five long gulps which gives me a popsicle headache... this sucks! Back in the bathroom I grab three Tylenol and swallow them with the last of the water. Now what? Sleep! That's what, I need more sleep.

Crawling back in bed I nudge Chubby, then play footies with him. He moans and rolls over to say, "Massage my feet, Dylan." I'm afraid his breath might catch my eyelashes on fire so I turn away and Chubby says, "Pleeeease massage my feet!" He's still drunk too. I say, "Your breath, dude! It's horrendous! You need to wash out your mouth with Lysol or something." Chubby rolls toward me and hugs me breathing out a long fiery exhale saying, "Whatever do you meeeeeean?" I'm like, "Mercy, have some fucking mercy!" He's laughing and mumbling at the same time, "I gotta piss so bad I might do it on you..." as he's climbing over me. Off the bed he disappears into the bathroom and I doze off. The next thing I know, his face is pressed against mine and he's saying, "How's my breath smell now?" His breath smells like pineapple; why the hell didn't I drink the pineapple juice... that sounds so good to me right now. I say, "We're still drunk, ya know." Chubby's back on the foot massage kick, "Dylan, last night you said we're always there for one another. You needed a hug and I gave you one. Right? Now I need a fucking foot massage. Okay?" I'm like, "Huh?" I do remember something like that though, and then I remember falling onto the table, so I say, "You almost broke my back is what I remember!" We sparred back a forth good-naturedly a little bit, then I got up and walked to the bottom of the bed, pulled out the covers and took his left foot in my hands. "You have big feet for a kid with a little dick. Are you aware of that?" He goes, "Of course I am, and I want us to have dick transplants, soon... yours on me and mine on you." I'm massaging his foot smirking to myself because I know shortly Chubby's little dick is gonna be as hard as a nail. He has this foot fetish that's goofy, but fun.

Actually, I like massaging his foot; anything involving touching Chubby I like. His foot had just the slightest foot smell, but that's not a bad thing, it's kinda pleasant actually. Bad foot odor stinks of course, that's not what we're looking for at all, but the pleasant foot smell is okay. I push my index finger between his toes and ask, "How come your middle toe is longer than your big toe? What's up with that?" He says, "It's not longer, it's just right." I lean down and bite his middle toe and Chubby sucks in a lot of air and grabs at his lap, squirming. I mumble, "I'm just gonna nip off the end to get it shorter than the big toe and I bite it again, then lick his big toe, stopping myself before I go, "Ewwww, yuck!" Chubby's lips are tight together and his hands are moving back and forth across his crotch under the covers. I blurt out a laugh, then say, "Sorry, but it's so funny the way feet get you so wired-up." He grunts out, "Lick my foot again, bitch!" and he laughs. I put my nose against the bottom of his foot and do an exaggerated inhale going, "Mmmmm, goooood!" Chubby murmurs, "Don't be mean, you know how this damn foot fetish gets be going. Jesus! My dick is pulsating." I say, "Feels good, I'll bet," but Chubby's too busy rubbing himself to reply. I get his other foot out from under the covers and play with that some but I can't think of anything new to do with it. Chubby's biting his bottom lip grunting. I say, "Let me help you with your boner, bro," he says, "Okay, this one time, but don't think it's a regular thing." He thinks I'm going to whack him off. I pull the covers off him and see his boner sticking out the fly of his boxer shorts. It's uncut and the head is still half covered by foreskin even though it's a fairly hard boner. When it's fully boned up it's a little over four inches and the foreskin is completely off the head. The head of his cock is longish and looks even longer than it is because the rest of his dick isn't very long. Still, I gotta say it's a wicked nice looking cock, small but picture perfect and so suckable it's ridiculous. I pull his boxer shorts down, his boner comes down flat against his thigh, then bounces back up straight when the boxer shorts are past it.

"That's a nice boner, Chub!" He strokes it saying, "I swear you're trying to turn me gay, but go ahead, have your fun." I mumble, "Thanks, I will, but don't pretend you aren't enjoying it too!" He humps his hips and says, "Okay, a little bit. And another thing, this is weird and I'm weird to want to do it, but can I smell your feet before you jerk me off?" I laugh and ask, "You serious?" but I knew he was. Poor kid, a fetish can be a very strong urge so I hop up and sit on his thighs facing him. I'm taller than Chubby so this position puts my feet even with his head. He takes my foot like it's a priceless relic and fondles it with both hands, then leans his face against it and I feel the air on the bottom of my foot as he breathes in and out. Chubby loves my feet! His boner is right in front of me, pulsating just like Chubby said it was and it's gotten harder now; most of the foreskin is off the head which is the prettiest shade of pink. I reach over and stroke it a few times with my thumb and a finger; Chubby moans, "Oooh, God," and licks my foot, then presses it against his face again. I try to remember if we talked about him and Ricky doing the foot fetish thing last night, but can't remember 'cause that fucking rum has blocked my brain somehow. He gently sets my foot down and picks up the other to go through the same routine. I've got both arms behind me holding onto Chubby's awesome calves as he continues massaging, smelling and licking my feet.

After a bit, Chubby gasps and takes a deep inhale. I'm looking around the room absently; his foot play feels good, but I'm not turned on sexually by it. Glancing down now I see a clear pearl of precum balanced at the pee slit of Chubby's cock. It balances there for a few seconds then is pushed away by a second, bigger pearl of precum; the original one drools down the short shaft of his cock. My dick firmed up some seeing that. Chubby murmurs, breathlessly, "Oh, man... if you don't start stroking my dick, I'm going to do it myself. Ahhh, gad, I'm right on the verge!" I pull my feet away, get on my knees and lean down, saying, "I'll do better than stroke it," and take his whole cock in my mouth sucking and licking the head. Chubby's ass comes right off the bed as he arches his back, moaning, "Aaaaaaghhh, ohhhh!" I'm stroking his boner with my thumb and index finger and at the same time sucking his cock from root to head with lots of tongue action. He's grabbing my Mohawk hair as best he can groaning and squirming on the bed, arching his back with his feet banging the mattress. I want to stroke my boner too but I'm afraid that would be too much, too gay for Chubby to handle. Another violent body hump and he squeals my name, humped his crotch into my face once more and peed out a stream of cum too much for me to swallow so some of it squirted out both sides of my mouth. He thrashed around so much his cock got pulled from my mouth. Chubby's going, "Uh, uh, uh!" as he strokes that little boner and out comes a nice second shot of cum that splashes my wrist, then a small fast flying squirt shoots up almost hitting Chubby in his face. He's pulling on that dick every which way; soon his strokes are getting only droplets of creamy white spunk that pools around his thumb. "Oh my God! That was absolutely awesome, Dylan!" He lays back flat on the bed still holding his dick. I go, "I gotta take a piss. Inside the bathroom it took twenty seconds of pulling on my boner to get a hot string of cum splattering into the sink, then two more with me using all my willpower not to scream 'cause it felt so good coming out. In my head was the memory of Chubby spunking in my mouth. I calmed down and did a quick clean-up, flushed the toilet and checked one last time for random cum splatters, then walked out feeling good.

Chubby was under the covers again; he said, "I know you jerked-off in there. You could have done it here; we've jerked-off together many times." I said, "I figured sucking you off would be the limit of gay activity you could handle." He chuckled and said, "Hey, if you play your cards right, I just might let you be my steady cock sucker." I sarcastically exclaim, "Oh goody!" He rolls on his side looking at me and quietly says, "You're probably not gonna believe me, but that was my first blow-job." I would have thought Ricky would want to do that, but I didn't ask about him. Instead I said, "Ohhh, you poor thing, your girlfriend won't blow you? That's out-fucking-rageous!" He smirks and says, "I never asked her to, it never came up. Frankly, I was afraid if I mentioned that, she might want the same and I'm not into fish." I climb in bed and get my arms around Chubby saying, "Let's make-out," he actually laughed; I thought he'd be angry. He goes, "Let's not and say we did, okay?" I kissed him near his mouth and he yells, "No fucking way, you've had a dick in that mouth of yours!" I kissed him again and he scrambled out of bed muttering, "You never know when to quit, Dylan! Now stop it." I say, "I'm sorry, only kidding!" He nods at me, biting his bottom lip. After a few moments of silence, I ask "What do ya want to do today?" Chubby says, "Take a bottle of Tylenol for starters, my head is killing me. I'll never drink that shitty rum again and I may never drink another coke either!" He's digging in his suitcase for some shorts to put on and I realize my head is aching too... and I already took Tylenol. Hangovers are a bitch and this one is just starting. They're at their worst when all the alcohol has cleared out of your system. This is gonna be a doozy of a hangover alright. Our first full day in Wildwood without the girls and we're too hung-over to do anything except lay around in the air conditioning moaning and drinking anything we can find that doesn't contain alcohol.

We both swore off drinking until we're thirty years old, at the soonest. The moms called about three in the afternoon to tell us they're just leaving Atlantic City now and that they had a fantastic time. We told them about the thunderstorm last night and lied saying we're on the beach and it's beautiful. An hour later we did wander down to take a swim which helped clear our heads. We were quiet once we sobered-up and I wondered how Chubby was rationalizing me blowing him. I was worried about it a little; maybe I pushed too much with that. After all, he was still drunk so maybe I took advantage of him. It's something I'll never forget though. I mean, I've tasted his cum before; we used to jerk each other off once in a while and taste each other's spunk. The think I'll never forget is the taste and feel of his cock. It was spectacular to be honest about it. Spectacular because it's Chubby's... not because it's much different than anyone else's. We swam a while then laid right on the beach next to each other. The hot sand felt good now, but when we stand up it'll feel scratchy and yucky. Another swim will correct that problem. Chubby says, "Are you sorry you blew me now that you're sober?" I meekly say, "Only if you're mad at me, Chub. Then I'll be real sorry." He absently said, "I'm not mad at you. I'm never mad at you, but it did bring home the fact that you are in fact, gay. I knew you told me you were and you're always joking around about it, but it never fully registered until now and I'm good with it... no problem, bro, I'm just saying." I mutter, "Thanks, Chub," although I'm not quite sure what I'm thanking him for. I guess I'm just glad he's not mad at me, or disappointed or something, ya know?

After another swim we were feeling better. The moms were in the condo fixing dinner when we got back: corn on the cob, sliced Jersey tomatoes, fried chicken and mashed potatoes. Everything except the chicken was from a farm stand along the side of the road somewhere between here and Atlantic City . It's farm fresh and delicious and it's the only thing Chubby and I had to eat all day. Oh man! That Jersey corn on the cob dripping with butter and salt is awesome! We were revived, but the moms are moving slow so they probably did some drinking themselves last night. I'm wearing the Harris' Boating hat that Charlie gave me all the time now and no one's complaining so maybe everyone has had enough of the Mohawk look by now. The good news is that Chubby said he can feel some hairs on the bald part of my head; he said they feel like soft whiskers. I know where he felt whiskers; Ricky had them, but it's best to leave the Ricky topic alone until our next drunken episode when we're both thirty years old. Even so, Chubby and me are tight again; I can feel that old closeness between us. It's impossible to verbalize what the old closeness feels like, but I know it when it's present and I'm grateful for it. I love that boy something awful and I thank God every night for Chubby in my life.

Low key describes Sunday night for Chubby and me; walking on the boardwalk and a friendly game of miniature golf to pass the time. Soft-serve vanilla ice cream cones and real lemonade was all we ate or drank. We were in bed before eleven o'clock and I had a sexy dream about me and one of the strange creatures from Avatar having hot sex together... the creature was fucking me really well in a small space. When I woke up Monday morning the dream was still in my head and I had a hard boner. Obviously, the creature from Avatar represented Gary and the fuck in a small space was the toilet stall he fucked me in that time. It was a sexy dream but I kinda wish my dream was about sucking off a uber cute boy who has a four inch cock and whose nickname is Chubby. Oh well, the real thing is better than a dream, but when will I get the opportunity to do it again? It's been months since graduation night when Chubby fucked me for the first time and we've never come close to doing that again. Saturday night is the first time we've so much as mentioned it. I thought about that for a while then realized something nice: I'm fully recovered from the rum and coke hangover of yesterday and feeling full of energy again. My goal today is to meet Gary like we planned, only do it with Chubby because I want to introduce those two to each other and show Gary that there's more to being a friend than fucking together. I'm sure Chubby and Gary will like each other.

A little later in the morning Chubby and I sat with the moms on the beach; all of us just chillin'. Then Chubby's cell tone goes off and he talks with Mary Jo for about fifteen minutes; this is the third call from her since she left Wildwood last Saturday. After the call Chubby says, "You'll never guess, Dylan." I'm like, "What?" and Chub says, "Mary Jo's pissed off at me 'cause I mentioned she probably doesn't need to call every day." I go, "What a shocker!" He's chuckling as he adds, "Yeah, as my punishment for that comment she cut off the call, slammed down her phone probably. Awww. Now she probably won't call for two whole days! Girls!" I shrug because he'll give in and call her, probably later today; Chubby's pussy-whipped. Around ten-thirty Chubby and I headed up the beach for the spot where Gary and I arranged to meet. On the way I described Gary to Chubby, his appearance and his personality and his strange upbringing; how he was raised without peers or friends. I told Chubby about Gary's piano playing talents including the New York City competition and how Gary thinks having a friend means having sex with them. Chubby felt bad for him like I knew he would and I also knew Chubby was dying to ask me if Gary and I had sex together but he didn't ask and I didn't tell. We arrived at the meeting spot on time, but no Gary. Chubby and I sat on the steps leading to the boardwalk smoking and talking for an hour but Gary never showed up. Chubby said, "He could have been held over in New York for any number of reasons... let's go up on the boardwalk and eat lunch." Chubby's right of course, Gary wouldn't just blow me off; something unforeseen's come up. I'll try again tomorrow. Chub and I have sandals and tank tops with us so we put them on and go up the steps to walk the boardwalk to the nearest Mac's Pizza. Chubby's saying, "I can't figure out why the moms haven't said anything about our tattoos. They must have seen them by now." I go, "Moms are curious creatures. By not mentioning the tattoos they're probably making a point to us that's too subtle for our teenage minds to pick up. We're legal age for tattoos so it's a moot point anyway." Chubby chuckles and goes, "No, not really, bro. They have secret psychological ways of giving us guilt complexes that could scar us for years so I'm coming right out and asking them what's up with the tats!" I shrug and say, "Hope Gary's okay." Chubby yells at me for not bringing my cell phone to the shore, he says, "You could simply text him and then you wouldn't need to wonder." I'm like "I know, I know!" Lunch was great, Mac's pizza again, of course. It's one of nature's perfect foods... I'm pretty sure I'm right about that.

Later that day when we're back with the moms, Chubby says, "Okay, the curiosity is killing me! Why don't you moms mention Dylan's and my tattoos? You've seen them, haven't you?" He's leaning his shoulder down toward them, showing his four leaf clover and LUCKY CHUBBY tattoo as the moms sit in their beach chairs looking away. Tris says, "Oh, don't tell me about a tattoo, honey. Surely you boys wouldn't get a tattoo without discussing it with your mom would you? No, not you two and I also know that neither of you would have both ears pierced like a pirate, now would ya? So why mention tattoos when they don't exist?" I mumble, "We're old enough..." My mom says, "And stupid enough too, sweetheart." I'm like, "Don't be like that, they're small tattoos. And cool!" The moms just shake their heads and gave looks to one another like "kids!" Chubby and I left the moms to have a swim. I was pouting about their reaction and feeling a little guilty too, but Chubby let it all roll off his back like the salty ocean water rolls off his back. He says, "Don't pout Dylan, they'll come around." I'm like, "I can't believe they liked the Mohawk but don't like this cool tattoo. How long do ya think they'd have gone without saying something if you hadn't brought to up?" He mutters, "Oh, forever; or until we went stark raving mad wondering why they didn't bring it up." I go, "Moms!" My attention was diverted from the tattoo debacle to ogling this boy with this constant smile... I'd been glancing at him for the past ten minutes, this Pretty-Boy-Who-Never-Stops-Smiling. His hair is long and soaking wet, plastered to his skull and reaching down to lay on his shoulders; luxurious-looking thick dark-brown hair. He had a nice body from what I can see and I'd guess his age to be sixteen, maybe fifteen. The boy was playing in the water with an older girl who had the same cute nose he has... probably his sister. Everything he or she said or did caused this boy to grin or smile while laughing or giggling. I waded a little closer to him, then caught Chubby staring at me shaking his head slowly like I'm incorrigible so I abandoned my quest of finding out what's so fucking funny to that boy and waded back to Chubby asking, "What...?" as if I hadn't been caught perving.

It rained again while we ate dinner so we all went to the movies. We saw Avatar again and it made me think of my dream. The moms hadn't seen the movie and the other two movies were sold out already so Chubby and I had no choice but to see it again. Rainy nights at the shore can be a pain in the ass if you're sober. The movie was in 2D tonight and not nearly as much fun as the 3D version. Nothing more was mentioned about the tattoos or pirate earrings, by the way. The moms will loosen up about it in a few weeks and it'll become something kind of funny; all that's required for a crisis to turn into something funny is enough time separating the incident from present time. I wish they thought our tattoos were cool, but the fact they don't doesn't change the fact that they are cool! The next day, I realized that it's Tuesday and we're now starting to see the end of our vacation... it's coming up too fast and that sucks! Today Chubby refused to walk with me all the way down the beach to where I'm hoping to find Gary. "Why do you think he'll be there today, Dylan? Yesterday was when he was supposed to be there." I go, "I know, but I'll try one more time." I didn't want to explain that I was worried about Gary because he's so easily taken advantage of and because his mother's a nut case and because that prick Bucky is capable of anything and because I'm getting horny again and I'm hoping Gary and me can squeeze in another round of sexy excitement. But mostly, I just won't feel okay until I see that Gary's okay... he really grows on ya. Halfway to where I'm hoping to find him I see him coming towards me and I feel a sense of relief. He hasn't spotted me yet and I almost didn't spot him because I didn't recognize him at first, as his Mohawk is now almost as short as mine. The lower part has always been the natural light brown of Gary 's natural hair color so it definitely is looking a lot different than it did the last time I saw it. I'm wearing Charlie's cap but when I see Gary I pull it off because he likes my Mohawk and covering it somehow might be seen as a slight to Gary. I keep walking towards him thinking what an imposing figure he makes, then he spots me and comes loping towards me. He's graceful and athletic in equal portions; a nice smile on his lips so I guess everything is okay after all. Naturally he hugs me when he gets to me, a big kiss on my lips as we swing around in a circle. My face is bright red from embarrassment but I don't want to hurt Gary 's feelings so I say nothing except, "I'm so glad you're alright, Gary. What's up with your Mohawk though?"

He says, "I can't believe how much I missed you, Dylan. Oh, the Mohawk. Yeah, I won the competition in New York and now I go to Dallas, Texas, and the organizers talked my mother into getting me to cut the Mohawk so since I'm losing it entirely next month anyway, I went along with it. Why do you have a hat in your hand?" We're walking together now, his arm around my neck and mine around his waist. He feels good; great slim body. He's got the stud in his lower lip and two earrings in each ear, but that's it for piercings. I don't even see the bird-boy thing anymore. He doesn't remind me of a bird anymore; he's nice looking and even cute sometimes, especially when he grins. We're walking and talking and it dawns on me we're heading back the way Gary came. He's explaining how he and his mother missed their plane and couldn't get another till late that night and he overslept yesterday due to not getting to bed until four that morning. Today he had Mohawk man cut his Mohawk down to my size. I told him about my water skiing with Chubby and the jet skis, but not about Charlie. That might upset Gary. And, really, what good could possibly come of telling him about it? And yes, the fact Robby might have thought the same thing regarding telling me about his three-ways, has entered my mind briefly. As we're approaching the public lavatory where we first had sex, Gary's explaining that he needs to fly out with his mother this afternoon for Dallas. He rushed down here to tell me and to say goodbye until we meet again at college because I'll be back in Framingham by the time Gary's back to Wildwood. "Please, Dylan, can we have one more friendship fuck before I go?" Well, when you put it like that... I mumble, "Sure, okay Gary ," but I was thinking "There goes my plans to show him that friendship is more than fucking." He says his mother is home packing for Dallas so it'll have to be in a lavatory stall. The way Gary said it almost made it sound like it was a normal thing to do.

I have sandals with me again so I put them on before entering the lavatory although someone had cleaned the floor recently and it seems relatively clean in here. There are muffled sounds of sex coming from a stall in the middle of the room and just as we're standing there checking out a stall selection, the door of the stall that Gary and I first did it in opened and two guys about our age came out grinning. One of them just might qualify as cute 'cause he's small and his grin is quite nice with a space between his two front teeth a la Huck Finn. He has red hair like Huck too, longish. The other one is a slightly stocky boy who wasn't cute except he might develop into a handsome older guy, so he's not ugly or anything. The two lads stop dead in their tracks when they see us and I watch their eyes go to Gary's and my Mohawks. The little one goes, "Oooh, you boys are hot!" He has a clue that we're gay; it's that Gary is again holding my hand. He's holding it the way you hold a little kid's hand to keep him or her from running into the street. Gary nods at the two boys and quietly says, "Thank you." The little fellow looks up at his stocky, taller partner and says, "Ya wanna try a four-way with these two?" Stocky sounds very feminine, which surprised the hell out of me 'cause he sure looks butch. He says, "Ewww, that might be nice except you just shot all your seed up my pussy." The little one grins his cute grin and goes, "Oops, she's right! Damn, how long you girls gonna be in Wildwood?" I'm thinking knuckle sandwich! Gary matter-of-factly says, "We're not girls, are you fucking blind?!" Stocky swoons, "Macho man! Oh, be still my heart!" Gary says, "You're being extraordinarily rude. You two have enjoyed a friendship fuck, now it's our turn and you're intruding." He really seemed hurt by their rudeness. The two teens exchange looks and the little bossy one says, "Are you for fucking real?" A very gruff voice comes from the middle stall, "If I need to come out there, the kid with the fag voice and you, Rabbit boy, are gonna get my foot up your ass. I know it's you, Rabbit." The little kid says, "Oh my God, is that you Arnold?" The guy in the stall yells, "Get the fuck out of here, now!" The teens smirk and take off running, the door slamming shut behind them.

Garylooks at the middle stall quizzically. It's quiet again in there except for a subtle wet sucking sound. After one of his ten second pauses, Gary pulls me by the hand to the stall the teens just vacated and in we go. He slips the lock and I know that annoying incident was totally gone from his mind. Gary kisses my mouth imitating my kisses on him that first time we kissed. With his mouth on mine he says, "I'm sorry to be so fast but I need to get back to the house soon." Jeez, first Charlie gives me a six minute fuck and now Gary 's gotta hurry too! Then he's squeezing my buttocks, his tongue in my mouth, grinding his crotch into mine. His cock gets hard fast and the same for mine. I step on something squishy, look down to see a shiny condom under my left sandal; maybe the teens' except the stocky one insinuated that the little one shot spunk up his ass, not in a condom. In any case, yuck! Gary's pulling my swimsuit down, then his, with our mouths still gluded together. His long hard boner is between our bare bellies and soon mine is hard enough to join his, both sticking straight up. A very wet sucking kiss and then Gary leans his long body down so he can suck on my cock, then he's back up for a tongue lick before pushing my head downward so I can suck his leaking cock. "Ohh, you get me really hot, Dylan. Can you turn around now." I'm puffing burst of air because he gets me hot too. It's been three days since Charlie fucked me and I'm anxious to get back in the saddle, so ta speak. Turning around I feel Gary 's long boner sticking between my legs, under and lifting my bag of nuts. His hands go around in front of me stroking my cock as he moves his boner back and forth under my scrotum leaving a trail of precum there and on my ass crack. He's breathing hard, the side of his face next to mine, "How am I going to last almost a month before I can fuck you again, Dylan?" He asked that without drama or any kind of sexual innuendo; he asked it like a serious question. Like you might ask someone over coffee, "How will I get in touch with you in North Andover ?" I say, "Let's not talk now." Gary says, "Okay."

I admit, I'm horny again. All last week it was sex just about every day and now it's been three days... well, except for me sucking off Chubby and whacking myself off. I push my ass back into Gary's bush; the hairs are soft but they still tickle. My cock starts dripping precum as Gary's boner continually moves back and forth between my legs, under my balls. This time when he's dragging the wet head of his cock back he stops at my anus, adjusts his position and humps the head inside me. "Ahhhhh, oh my God, Gary.... it's tight." He's nestling his nose in my Mohawk hair, Charlie's cap is getting scrunched in my right hand, "It'll feel good any second now, Dylan; like last time, remember?" I do remember but it's still feeling tight due to the lack of lubricant which we did have last time. Gary begins slowly penetrating my rectum with his long boner, he's not shy about it. It's a steady progression accompanied by little "Hmm" sounds from Gary. He has me wrapped up in his arms, his fingers playing with my nipples as he continues pushing his cock up my ass. I find myself grunting, "Uhn!" every time he goes, "Hmm!" When I'm sure he's all the way up inside me he reaches down to grab the front of my hips with both his hands and pulls me back onto his huge organ another three-quarters of an inch then he does subtle humps flattening my buttocks a quarter inch with each hump. It was a combination of pain and pleasure on the way in, but now it's all pleasurable sensations in my hole and I start squirming and moaning with the sexual stimulation that has my cock feeling ready to blow already. "Ohh god, Gary... that feels good!" I'm keeping it quiet because there is another couple in a stall down the line a ways. Gary just keeps up with, "Hmm, oh yeah," as he continues with the slight humps, his boner way up my ass.

After a while it gets to be kind of a tease as the sexy subtle sensations signal much higher levels of pleasure being available just around the corner; you know, when Gary decides to fuck me with long strokes of cock up my ass... up and back, up and back, up and back. As I'm hoping for it, Gary does a long withdrawal, blowing out an exhale the whole way, and then he pushes his boner easily back up inside me and pulls me back into his crotch again with his hands at the front of my hips. It felt so excellent. I mumble, "Gary, Gary ... fuck my ass, Gary." Another long withdrawal and back up tight again, I moaned, "Ohhhh, ahhh, yeah..." I'm looking down at my one-eyed boner that's staring back up at me with wetness drooling down its shaft. Gary leaves his cock up my ass and again does the little humps. I'm pushing back into him, licking my lips and quietly moaning in pleasure. Gary crosses his arms over my belly and begins long thrusts followed by long pull backs, a half dozen of them and then he leaves his boner deep inside me once more and is back to doing the little one inch humps as he sucks on my ear and strokes my boner. Oh my God, the sensations feel so wonderful I lay back against his slim body and try to be absorbed by it. His tongue comes out of my ear, his arms around my chest tightly again as his hips, moving rhythmically, have his long cock fucking my ass with smooth, fast thrusts and after ten of them cum gushes out of my boner and splashes my chin. My squeal sounded a little too high-pitched to come from a boy, the second stream of cum only made it as high as my nipples and the last two streams shot out about three inches. Each of them felt fantastic! All kinds of shivers and shudders around my body as Gary maintained his relentless fucking of my ass. It took him two more minutes before a flood of his spunk was drooling out of my asshole with Gary making squeaky noises to go with the "Splat, splat. splat, splat!" of his crotch which is wet with his own cum smacking against my equally wet ass cheeks. Gary bit my ear at the height of his climax. He fucked me for a minute longer and then let out a lot of air and slowly pulled his long boner out. "Oh, that felt better than anything, Dylan."

Well, it had been special to me too but I was gasping from the delayed sensations and couldn't speak at the moment. My cock was still dripping as Gary turned me around and leaned over to suck the drippings from my cock down his throat. He sucked the head of my cock for about a minute and just when it was getting too sensitive he pulled off and put some pressure at the back of my head and I went down on his still very hard cock. After sucking and licking it clean he turned me around and slowly pushed that long boner of his back up inside me with me going, "Ooooohhh, ohh, oooh!" It slid in easy this time and my submissive side sort of had a thrill or two because this was kind of a dominant move on Gary's part. He didn't think of it that way and would deny he was being dominant if questioned about it, but him fucking me a second time right after we'd done it was all his idea... it was unexpected so I loved it! In the background I heard the people in the middle stall leaving just as my second climax was building. Gary was pounding his cock up my ass with me holding onto the front of the sink with both hands, the hat lying in the sink now. I went up on my toes with each hard thrust up my ass and finally a second climax. I let out a screech when a small amount of cum spurted from my sensitive cock head and then another as a second spurt followed. Now I was reaching backwards with my hands on Gary's hips trying to pull his cock further up inside me. Gary took another four minutes to climax a second time and by then my hole was quite sore. He said his cock was sore too as we cleaned up. He said it like it was a good thing, then asked, "Did I do okay, Dylan? Was it good for you?" I assured him it was. Gary hugged me with both arms and went on about how I'm his first real friend and as such he wanted to fuck me extra special. He'd been planning on how he could show me how special he thought I was all the way back on the plane from New York . He'd promised himself he'd give me the best fuck he's ever given anyone. I'm definitely going to need to explain about friendship; it's not all fucking although he does fuck really well and for a boy who prefers being a bottom, like me, that's a mighty fine quality to have in a gay friend.

I thanked him for the wonderful fuck and for him thinking I'm special and assured him he's special too. We cleaned up as best we could; Gary pushing some toilet paper in my hole to absorb cum droolings 'cause that boy really pumped a lot of spunk up my ass. Then, outside, Gary and me walked under the boardwalk to his scooter where he gave me a piece of paper with his cell phone number, his dorm room assignment and his home phone and address; all typed neatly on his computer. He wrote down my cell number even though I told him it wasn't with me in Wildwood. When we're all set with the vital numbers, Gary says, "Hop on the scooter behind me Dylan, I'll give you a ride down to your street and then I'm gonna be off for Texas ." On the scooter I hugged him around the belly feeling a lot of affection for this misguided boy and feeling lucky I met him although it could be a problem when we're all at college. My ass was sore and the seat was firm but I'd rather ride with a sore ass than walk all the way down the beach with one. During the ride I thought about us being only twenty-some miles away when we're at college. I have a feeling this scooter is gonna be with Gary at Berkley and I'm guessing Gary's going to be visiting me at Merrimack College, which should be interesting... challenging, but interesting. But, ya know: what a great double fuck he just put on my sore ass. It was awesome and definitely worth a little soreness! We'll work something out at college.

As we approached my street I thought again how I gotta keep all that's happened to me in Wildwood in mind when talking with Robby about his indiscretions 'cause I've had a few myself... more than a few if I'm honest about it. Neither Robby nor I are ready to go steady yet, ya know?

to be continued....

Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com

• "Higher than a kite can fly" are words from a song my half brother's father used to sing. It was a folk song I think. Scott's father played guitar and sang at family functions (corny songs that all sounded pretty much the same to me). I always liked that phrase though... "higher than a kite can fly". Ha ha... when ya think about it though, that's not very high actually!