Date: Sun, 8 Apr 2012 10:42:11 -0700 (PDT) From: don mumford Subject: DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR Chapter 22 by Donny Mumford DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR Chapter 22 by Donny Mumford It's almost two o'clock when I get up to the room. I'm still ruminating about that time Willie and me got fucked in Carl's bedroom, a lifetime ago, horrible Larry and Carl doing the honors. At the door to our suite I find a "DO NOT DISTURB" sign hanging on the doorknob... oops, I guess I should have thought to do that when I left Willie this morning. Using my card-key I go inside, but don't see Willie in bed; a quick glance at the balcony confirms he's not out there... then I see the bathroom door is closed. Walking over I put my ear to the door but don't hear a sound, so I ask, "Willie, you in there?" A weak reply from Willie, "I'm on the toilet again, Dylan," and that's all he's got to say. The bed's disheveled so I guess he was thrashing around in his sleep. Walking over, playing detective, I feel the pillow, which is still warm so he must have just gotten out of bed. Humph! That boy must have himself a wicked hangover, sleeping all night and all day. Ah, justice! Well, he's just paying the price for being such an asshole drinking all that booze last night, but not only the booze, the whole attempted suicide and everything that led up to it was horrendous; for me too. I try to get pissed at him, but feel pity instead. Willie must feel totally alone in the world, except for me, so I'm going to try to support him and nurse him through his hangover. That's what I'll do first, then try to get him to recover some sort of positive outlook. Yeah, that's easy to say, but how the hell do I do it? He's still in the bathroom fifteen minutes later and now I'm getting fidgety. That gets me walking back and forth from the bedroom to the living room, occasionally looking out at the beach and ocean, wanting to get back out there in the sunshine. When I'm just about to knock on the bathroom door again, I hear the knob turning and Willie staggers out wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt. He looks at me, then down at himself, mumbling, "It's cold in here so I put some clothes on," I nod, trying to smile, as he explains further, "Then in bed, I start sweating and I throw the covers off and it's been...." his sentence drifts off as he staggers back to bed getting in my side again, and pulling the covers over him, moaning quietly. He's back to being white-as-a-sheet-of-paper, dark circles under his eyes with an expression on his face of total defeat... paying the price, ya know? I'm puffing out my cheeks, thinking, "What a pain in the ass this is!" before regaining a more compassionate attitude, and asking, "What can I do to help you, Willie?" He wants a large iced tea; replacing fluids I guess. I order two large iced teas and a grilled cheese sandwich, his favorite, then sit in a chair twiddling my thumbs looking at him. His eyes are closed, but he's not sleeping, which doesn't surprise me since he's been in bed for sixteen hours or so. No conversation appears to be in order, which works for me because I don't know what to say anyway. The iced teas and grilled cheese sandwich arrive and I sign for them with the customary tip, then set the tray on the night table, quietly saying, "Here's your iced tea, Willie." He opens his eyes, mumbling, "Thanks, Dylan," then painfully sits up and drinks it slowly, but continuously, until it's empty. "Ya wanna try a little bit of this grilled cheese sandwich," I ask, and he goes, "Not right now, I wanna rest some more, okay?" I say, "Sure, I'll leave you in peace. I'll just wander down to the beach again, I guess," and he weakly mutters, "Okay." Leaving the room, I'm feeling guilty about something. I scrunch my lips trying to figure out what it is while waiting for the elevator. Then, as I'm going down in the elevator, I start wondering what's in Willie's mind right now; what's he thinking about as he lays there, terribly uncomfortable and distraught with his defeated body language and that look of resignation on his face. Might he give up and try suicide as his 'out', a second time? Damnit! So, fuck it, I go to the beach and tell Dominic he can put our beach chairs and stuff away, "My friend's real sick, so I'm gonna hang out in the room with him." Dominic feels bad for us, but understands, saying, "You're a good friend, Dylan... that's what Pedro would do too. Me, I don't know, I might have a hard time passing up the beach," and he chuckles in a self deprecating way. Stopping in the gift shop on my way back to the elevator I buy a Sports Illustrated magazine, resigned to baby-sitting Willie. When he hears me come in the room he opens his eyes halfway, probably afraid the maids are coming in, and when he sees it's me he raises his eyebrows questioningly, and I mutter, "I've had enough beach for one day, I'm gonna hang out here for awhile." A slight nod of his head and he closes his eyes again... swell! The rest of the afternoon I sit on the balcony smoking and reading Sports Illustrated until that gets too boring; then I people-watch looking for a cute boy down there around the pool. From a distance I can see the boy with the girlie leg-crossing position still sitting in his deck chair listening to music, and for something to do I make-up a fantasy in my head about him and me dancing where the white boys dance... that's a line from a Killers song; I forget which one. It passes the time and makes me think about Willie teaching me to dance some years back. He was so full of life back then, so confident about everything. And he really is a good dancer, lots of rhythm and uber cool dance steps... slow dancing with him is sexy as hell too. The afternoon passes with me contemplating calling Robby again, but rejecting that idea for fear it might made me appear too needy; a condition Willie showed a couple of days ago... one that made me feel sorry for him, and I do not want Robby feeling sorry for me! Finally, around five o'clock, the sliding glass door to the balcony opens slowly and a disheveled Willie in wrinkled sweatpants and t-shirt appears, shoeless. He mutters, "Hi," as he plops down in a deck chair, taking deep breaths. "Nice out here," he quietly says, and I ask, "How ya feeling?" Willie waves at my cigarette smoke, turning his head away, so I put the cigarette out, asking again, "Ya feeling any better?" He licks his lips, then says, "I guess." I mutter, "That's good," and he clarifies, "It's more a situation where I don't feel as miserable as I felt a few hours ago, but I still feel like shit." That explanation appears to have used-up all his energy as he slumps in the chair, and again I get the thought in my head, "What an enormous pain in the ass this is!" but I force myself to put that aside, saying, "As bad as you feel, you still need to get out for a little exercise; lets go for a walk. The temperature has dropped a lot from earlier and it's very pleasant out here now." Willie mutters, "I'll do whatever you want me to, Dylan." Oh great, he's playing the sad-sack card again. I tell him to change into shorts, a clean t-shirt, and sneakers; we're going for a walk. Willie sighs, but pushes himself up and we go inside where he slowly and apparently painfully changes his clothes while I call housekeeping asking them to change the bedding, and do whatever else they normally do. Then, grabbing Willie's wallet I look through the money until I find a twenty dollar bill, then put it next to the card for maid service so the person who cleans up the room will know it's for her... or him. Then we leave the room with Willie's head hanging. No talking or smoking apparently, but at least I got Willie outside in the fresh air. It's not cool, but there's a breeze off the ocean so we walk on the sidewalk nearest the ocean. I'm watching for boys of interest, Willie's looking at the ground. After a few blocks, I say, "You know, we gotta talk about last night sooner or later." He mumbles, "I know, but can we please do it tomorrow. I'm still really hurting from this hangover and, ya know, from the other thing." Pushing it slightly, I say, "Sure, tomorrow's fine, but I can I trust you not to do anything rash in the meantime?" He goes, "You never have to worry about that again; I learned my lesson and as disappointed in me as you probably are, it's nothing compared to how disappointed I am in myself." Muttering, "Good answer," I leave it at that. We walk away from the resort for almost a half hour with Willie looking around checking out the scenery now, rather than checking out the sidewalk... so that's progress. Cutting off to a side street, we go off in a different direction for awhile and eventually bumble into the Mallory Square Dock where Key West people gather to watch the sunset. There's a large crowd, some holding drinks in their hands huddled in little groups, probably mostly tourist like Willie and me. Willie asks, "What's this?" and I say, "It's where you wanted to go in your stuporous condition last night, Mallory Square Dock, where the sunsets are supposed to be fantastic." He goes, "Oh," but that's all he has to say about that. Probably he doesn't want to go 'there'... 'there' being the topic of 'last night'. I search the crowd for my new friend from the plane, Sandy, without any luck, and then we wander over to a vendor selling fresh lemonade and I buy two. Willie and I find a spot on the dock that's not too crowded and stand there looking out over the ocean drinking our drinks, in silence. The sun eventually dips into the ocean way the hell out there, and it was something worth seeing, then everyone begins drifting away, including Willie and me. As we're walking back the way we came, we come to one of the fifty thousands little restaurants that exist along the street; this one features outside dining. I ask Willie, "Ya wanna get something to eat?" He shrugs, mumbling, "Do they have soup?" as if I would know. Looking at the posted menu I see 'soup of the day' as an option, so say, "Why yes, they do," and I lead him over to the sign that instructs, "Please wait to be seated" and a older man with a gay manner about him, asks, "Two?" I nod, and after he tries to seat us inside and I protest, we get a table for two next to the building on the sidewalk. There are guys walking by two by two, who are probably gay, but mostly it's straight tourist as far as I can tell. Willie has two bowls of chicken and rice soup and I have a barbecue chicken platter, which is yummy, but messy. Two coffees after dinner and we share a big dish of chocolate ice cream. Pretty good for thirty dollars, which I pay for; no arguments from Willie about that, which is disappointing... haha. My spirits are pretty good; the walk back is just the ticket after eating. We get back to the resort at nine-thirty and Willie claims he needs to get back to bed, but adds, "This is the best I've felt all day, Dylan... thanks for taking care of me." It's nice he noticed. Inside our suite Willie goes into the bathroom, and then gets ready for bed; I go out on the balcony for a cigarette, and to gaze at the beautiful view. I stay out here for an hour or so thinking about the twists and turns of life, then shrug like, "What ya gonna do about it. it is what it is?" and slide the balcony door open discovering he's not asleep yet. He says again, "Thank you for caring about me, Dylan. You were right, going outside was just what I needed; the food too. I'll be better tomorrow, promise." I say, "Sure, Willie, no problem," then, not ready for bed myself yet, I tell Willie, "I'm gonna walk around a little bit more, you get some sleep, okay?" I've got no plan except to go back outside and check things out; see if I can find adventure... tame adventure. After an hour of walking back and forth between the Casa Marina and our resort it's apparent I'm not going to connect with anything, or anybody. Now, if I could hit the bars, that would be a different story because they're jumping, but for me it looks like bedtime and that's where I head. Willie's asleep; the room had been completely put back in shape by the housekeeping staff during on our first walk... clean sheets and a fresh supply of towels and washcloths. I wonder what they thought when they saw all the towels and stuff Pedro and I used on Willie last night? After my bathroom ritual, I'm about to turn off the light, but notice a little message on the housekeeping card, where I'd left the twenty dollar tip. It reads, "Thank you, sir! God bless you." Well that's nice, makes ya feel good. Monday morning we find another perfect day for the beach. Willie gets up early and wakes me rustling around in his suitcases, looking for God knows what. From bed, I ask, "You feeling better?" He stops what he's doing to turn around, saying, "I'm sorry, did I wake you? I'm looking for my swim suit, like you were wearing yesterday." I ask again, "How ya feeling this morning?" He shrugs, and says, "I'm rested, that's for sure, but I feel beat-up all over, like I've been in a fight or something... a hundred times better than yesterday though, but still not right. I'm never drinking that shit again, by the way." I mutter, "Uh huh," then yawn, saying, "I'm going to sleep a little more," and he says, "Sure, Dylan, whatever you want. Um, later would you go to the beach with me?" What the fuck...? I go, "Of course! Are ya kidding me with that question? Of course I'll go to the beach with you, we're buds aren't we?" He says, "I hope so. I'm gonna take a long hot shower... check you out later, okay?" I wave a hand, muttering, "Fine," and he goes back to his rustling in the suitcases... Jesus! When I wake up again the suite is quiet, but I see Willie on the balcony near the sliding glass doors; he's as far away from the railing as he can get, smoking. Obviously his ban on cigarettes is over. I get up and do my stuff in the bathroom, then join him on the balcony. He's shy, saying a quiet, "Hi," without eye contact. Now that he's feeling a little better, perhaps a large guilt trip has landed on him. Good! I'm not being mean about it, but if he didn't feel a little guilty, I'd be worried about him. I'm not at all sure what the best approach to getting him back to normal might be, so I just mimic his low-key attitude, saying, "Hi, yourself. I see you're smoking again." I take one of his cigarettes from the pack laying on the little outdoor table, and light-up. He says, "Yeah, but it tastes like crap." I go, "Quit then," and he gives me a little smile, mumbling, "You got me hooked on these damn things way back when; remember Sea Isle City?" Exhaling smoke, I go, "Oh yeah, we were just kids then," and he takes a deep breath, saying, "I don't feel all that grown-up now, to tell ya the truth." He's looking for sympathy now, but I'm not going there. I ask, "Hungry?" he says, "A little," and I go, "Lets get something to eat, and then hit the beach." And that's what we do. The whole day went like that, one or two word comments from each of us. Mostly we lay in the comfortable beach chairs sunbathing and enjoying the spectacular weather. When it gets too hot, I adjust the umbrella for shade. Dominic hooked us up with the usual beach stuff and waited on us with drinks, nonalcoholic ones, and food. It was pleasant enough, but awkward too. It feels almost like I'm with a stranger, and maybe I am. Later in the day we wade out into the ocean and have our talk. Willie ends-up crying in front of casual gawkers, taking all the blame on himself, calling himself enough derogatory names that I don't need to add any myself. He's mostly sorry as hell that I saw him like that, telling me he's had deep depression periods at prep school for months now, and when he saw me the first time at my condo a couple of months ago, not this recent time, he was happy to see me, but most of his upbeat behavior then was an act requiring a lot of effort. He was already being ostracized at school by then. In retrospect, I remember how different he seemed, but I'd recognized it back then too; just not to the extent I do now. During our talk I had to tell him I forgive him a few times before he believed me, but by the time we were finished our "talk", and wading back to the beach, I think he'd finally turned the corner on the self pity. I'm determined to help him get back to more of his old self; I miss that Willie, to be honest. I thought this trip would be a trip down memory land, but it's been the opposite so far. I've had to take the "adult" role and I wanted to take my old submissive role. That's been impossible though, not with Willie acting so fuckin' helpless. He's looking much better by now though, some light sunburn on his nose, and there's an occasional grin when I try to lighten the mood by saying something vaguely funny. We stay on the beach until almost six o'clock, then wander back to our suite for showers, after which we listen to music on the balcony, looking out at the view of the beach and ocean until the sun sets. Then a quiet dinner in the restaurant where Willie has lobster again... so do I. He initially wanted to order room service, but I talked him into eating in the restaurant because his mood was getting gloomy again. We did another long quiet walk after dinner, then to bed without a peep about sex, which I think is a good thing because I wasn't up for it with Willie in his present mood... it might have seemed like sex-by-the-numbers, and I never want to have that happen. Next day on the beach I asked Dominic how Pedro's doing and he tells me a cute story about Pedro and two of their brothers, that I don't quite get the point of, but I wasn't listening that closely. What I really wanted to know is: is he working tonight? Not that I was going to seduce him or anything, just wanted to see how he's feeling about what we did together; you know, after having a couple of days to think about it. Then, later in the day, leaving Willie on the beach, I'm walking through the lobby going up to our suite to use the bathroom, 'cause I'd rather not use the community one for doing number two, if you get what I'm saying. Anyway, there's Pedro with a broom, sweeping the front entrance... hmmm? He's working and I probably shouldn't disturb him, but I do a detour and go out to say hello anyway. Man, his face lights up when he sees me, and he begins a big two-arm hug, but with a quick glance at his coworker turns it into a guy's one arm quick embrace, saying, "Dylan, whassup?" He looks awesome! I go, "Hey, dude, just wanted to say 'hi', and, uh, how's it's going?" He goes, "Couldn't be better," then lowers his voice to add, "Ronny noticed the hickey, and he spoke to me." I go, "No way, already? What'd he say?" With a chuckle, he says, "He wanted to know who my girlfriend is, and I said to him, 'I don't have one'... hahaha." I go, "That was ballsy of you. What happened then?" He says, "Well, then Ronny sorta looked surprised, but he didn't ask me out or anything; my foot's in the door though... thanks to you." Speaking quietly, I go, "He'd be smart if he did ask you out 'cause you rock, Pedro... you'd be a catch for anybody!" Pedro looks down and blushes through his beautiful creamy tan complexion, mumbling, "Thanks, Dylan." What a sweet kid he is. His coworker has stopped sweeping and is now staring at us, so I let Pedro get back to work, whispering, "Keep me posted, Pedro... you got him hooked, dude. You'll see." He looks at me with that sincere expression of his, then grins, saying, "Yeah, I think so too," and I bump fist with him, mumbling, "See ya later..." He waves, smiling, then goes back to sweeping, as I hustle up to the suite to do my duty, so ta speak. Afterward, on my way back to the beach, I couldn't help reliving that almost surreal 'first time' for Pedro; that was one of those lucky encounters that worked-out just about perfectly for both of us... kinda rare for a first time. And also, maybe I'm a tiny bit disappointed Pedro didn't even give a hint that he needs a refresher course, ya know? Haha! Outside, walking on the beach toward Willie, I see him talking to a middle age, overweight man, who's standing next to Willie's chair. Coming up behind Willie, I put my hand on his shoulder; he turns around to see a questioning expression on my face, then says, "This is Rico, he leaves here. Just stopped to ask if I'd lend him a cigarette." I'm thinking, "Rico's got a pathetic pick-up line," but mutter, "Ya don't say..." Rico holds out his hand to shake, saying, "Hi, nice to meet ya," then quickly adds, "As I was telling Willie, I'm not fat like some say... I'm an endomorph." My eyes blink rapidly as Willie yawns, totally uninterested in endomorphism, whatever the hell that is. I barely touch the guy's hand, saying, "Huh!" then, when he just nods his head, I go, "Interesting," and squeeze Willie's shoulder, asking him, "Ready for a swim, Willie?" He jumps up, going, "Oh, yeah!" as the fat man says, "Endomorphs don't swim in the ocean," which doesn't leave much for me to say, except, "See ya," and Willie and I jostle each other like little kids running for the ocean, both of us with the giggles because of that strange dude. Rico sorta broke the ice though... Willie and I now have something unimportant to mock and laugh about. I say to a fellow swimmer, "I'm an endomorph, nice to meet ya," and of course the guy swims away, just like Willie and I ran away from our endomorph, but it gets us laughing and doing some rough-housing in the water, dunking each other and such. Later, talking about it, we can't figure out if Rico was trying to pick Willie up, or if he's crazy, or what; we just know he's not suppose to be on this private beach... but he's become our conduit to getting back to more normal relations with each other. Not that we'd advanced to the buddy sex stage just yet, Willie's still stinging from all the hits he took in the letter from his father, and of course, still embarrassed about making an ass of himself with that stupid suicide attempt. I can only imagine how terrifying it is for him to think back on it; it's obvious he wants to keep on living, and he's even hinting around that he's coming to grips with community college. He's trying his best to wrap his head around it at the moment, and I feel for him. By Tuesday Willie appears fully recovered from his hangover, if not totally over everything else; as I said, he's still grappling with the new realities in his life. Today, for a change, we're sitting around the pool. Our discussion centers on planning a night of it on Duval Street, which is the place to be in Key West at night. It's a pretty busy place during the day too, but at night it's a carnival that last until dawn; at least that's what it says on line when I googled, "Key West night life". Later, Willie's talking up this kid he met near the pool, and I use my cell phone to catch up on my homeboys. The kid Willie's talking to, Drew Andrews, if you can believe that name, is too thin and too tall, if you ask me. He has an unlikely shade of red hair and I think it's odd that he just stopped at our chairs a little while ago to start a conversation with Willie for no obvious reason that I can tell. Maybe he's trying to pick him up, I don't know, nor care, because he's not my type. I'd watched him talking for a while and noticed he has a distinct old-looking scar through his left eyebrow; it's shaped like a half moon, from childhood I'd guess. Other than that he's fairly nondescript. If you ask me it's almost impossible to tell who's gay here because there are so many candidates, but they all couldn't be gay, and very few are interesting or good looking enough to care one way or the other anyway, so what difference does it make... deciding that, I went to my cell phone. I'm on the phone talking with Robby, who I catch on a sightseeing bus tour; another one. He's grumbling about being forced to go on the tour, and presently Dodger's giving the silent treatment to their parents for the same reason, so the Grand Canyon trip seems to have gotten off track a little bit. I gotta sympathize with Mr. and Mrs. Dickers though because Dodger's a bit of a challenge, to say the least. I mean, I love the kid but he must be a pain in the ass to raise, from the parents point of view, I mean; although, to be honest, they seem quite pleased with him... so go figure. I guess it's a parental love thing. Robby and I can't talk long because there's a tour guide blaring out details in the background and people are going, "Shhhh!" to Robby. He did whisper that he loved me and described the way he intends fucking me when we get back to Framingham, which gets my dick moving and feeling fine. It also has me seeing things in a different light where Willie's concerned. I mean, what good is it doing either of us to be celibate, ya know? It'll probably do us both a lot more good to engage in a little budding fucking, so if he and the improbably redhead don't hit it off, I might drop a hint that I wouldn't mind getting in on a little, but I'll keep it vague because he's the one who should be dropping the hints. I mean, after the way he messed up our trip and all. Connor's at the restaurant so I can't talk with him, but I catch Chubby eating lunch at work and he fills me in on the blind dates. Chubby thinks Connor's smitten with Tootsie and says he wouldn't be at all surprised if those two kids get something going along the hot and heavy line. I go, "Uh huh," and let it go at that. There are very few details from Chubby about why he thinks that, and I can't wait to hear Connor's side of it. Connor did enlist in the Army yesterday, so that's that. Chubby and I can't talk very long because his boss is working with Chubby today and Chubby needs to get back to it. He can't wait for spring break to be over and get back to college where it's a much lighter workload. I could have broken his balls about him spending all his money on his so-called girlfriends, making it necessary for him to work through spring break, but I don't. It's great hearing his voice and I mostly concentrate on that, 'cause I love me some Chubby! Then, what I suspected would happen, happened. Willie's finished talking with the redhead and nothings come of it. We're sitting in his deck chair near the pool when his Blackberry tweets. He looks at the miracle devise and sees it's a text message from his mother. Willie reads it out loud to me, "Loved your email, William. I straightened-out your father. Love, mother." Short and vague, and not especially warm, but the tone is right. Wonder if she ever gave a thought to a phone call, or at least an email fer chrissakes, but Willie's elated. "I knew it!" he exclaims, although he sure kept this alleged optimism a secret from me. I'm patting him on the back congratulating him even though neither of us is exactly sure what his mother means by, "Straightened-out your father", does it mean Willie's going to Cornell, or maybe even the University of Pennsylvania, or that his American Express card has been reactivated, or what. Maybe it means she gave Mr. Worthington a piece of her mind about him being such a prick, and that's all she did. It goes without saying that I do not bring these negative thoughts into the conversation. This is as happy as I've seen Willie in like forever, or at least since this new version of Willie came on the scene, which is the version I first encountered at my condo a few months ago. When we've finally had enough of the pool, and we're walking into the suite, this time Willie sees the FedEx envelope that's been slid under our door. Ah ha, it's from Mr. Worthington again, so now we'll find out what's what. Guess Mr. Worthington doesn't believe in emails either. Willie doesn't hesitate, he pulls the strip and opens the business envelope inside. Another letter from daddy dearest. Willie reads it out loud: "Dear William, Your mother read me the email you sent her and I was impressed with your restraint in describing your feelings towards me. I also am impressed you did not lose composure and fire off another nasty, expletive-filled email to me after receiving my letter. It shows me maturity on your part..." Willie looks up at me after reading that and we exchange looks; maturity my ass, Willie threw a monumental temper tantrum and then pouted before trying to commit suicide. I shrug, raising my eyebrows, like "What...?" and Willie reads on: "Your mother and I got together and had one of the nicest dinners we've had together in years. We agreed that you've been neglected and that's probably why you acted-up at prep school. We forgive you and feel bad about our not being there for you, but our busy lives got in the way." Willie looks up at me again, saying, "Their busy lives of traveling the world at five star hotels spending money they inherited." I say, "Willie, think positively... things are going your way again." He nods, then goes back to reading to me, "I can't give in on the University of Pennsylvania thing, son; I put my foot down with your mother regarding that, but Cornell is a go and I've reactivated your American Express card. Enjoy yourself with your, ah, friend. Mother and I formally apologize to you for missing your graduation, we were hurt that you'd humiliate us like that." Willie stops to say, "It's always about them and...," I interrupt, saying, "Forget that! Concentrate on the important parts of the friggin' letter!" He frowns at my loss of patience with him, then finishes the letter. "As you may know, William, your mother and I have been married a long time, but it's sadly been thirty-some years of marriage for two or three of bliss. You, son, are the brightest spot in our marriage and we wish only the best for you. Love, Father." Willie's nodding his head at the letter, staring at it, and I expect he'll gloat now... but he doesn't. Instead, he says, "Thank God! I never thought father would reverse himself on anything. Ooooh, I'm so relieved, thank you father and mother! I need to sit down," and he does, right on the floor, holding the letter against his chest. I resist telling him, "I told ya so," and just mumble, "I'm happy for you, Willie," then I rub his flattop hair and he grabs my wrist and kisses my hand, saying, "Thanks to you I'm alive to read this. I love..." and I go, "Willie!" He says, "Okay, you don't want to hear it, but you know I do anyway," and he does a silly ten or twelve kisses on my hand and wrist, that amazingly gets my dick moving. That boy has kissing lips alright! After showering, for a change we have dinner in the Casa Marina's restaurant, the sister resort to ours, and it's very nice. I order steak again, and Willie has the same thing. We eat from our own plates tonight. After dinner we walk on Duval street for quite awhile and later have dessert and expresso at one of the sidewalk cafes. Expresso sucks, by the way. Willie wanted me to try it. Willie's bubbly and excited about Cornell; he can't wait to get back on line to the website freshman have set-up there. To be honest, it's like a great weight's been lifted from my shoulders too; I mean, seeing him happy again... a weight I didn't fully realize was there until now. Tomorrow night we plan on being at the dock to see the sunset, then walk the entire length of Duval street seeing the full Key West carnival that Duval street basically is. It's like our vacation is just now getting underway. Willie finally worked-up the courage to try holding my hand on the way back to the hotel, but I put a stop to that. Inside our suite, as we're standing side by side in our boxer shorts brushing our teeth, he asks, "Um, Dylan, is there any chance we could, uh, mess around a little tonight... to celebrate my good fortune?" I like the way he put that, plus I'm horny as a rabbit in heat, so I go, "Uh huh, I'd like to, Willie." He stops brushing, looking over a me; his face bright, as he asks, "Really? You mean it's okay?" I smile back, saying, "Sure, life goes on... I think a little buddy sex will do us both a lot of good," and I lightly punch his shoulder, grinning. He goes, "Oh! Um, who's turn is it to, you know, top?" I'm rinsing my mouth out, then say, "Well, it's mine, but if you wouldn't mind doing that part this time, I'll take my turn tomorrow morning." Toothpaste drooling at the corners of his mouth, he mutters, "Tomorrow morning too?" I shrug like, 'Why not..." and he hurriedly rinses and then gets an arm around my neck pulling the sides of our faces together, muttering, "You're the best, Dylan." Then we do a full body hug, our arms around each other and the feel of his skin against mine, from head to foot, plus Willie's natural sexy aroma brings my dick to life and it moves sideways in my boxers. Willie's murmuring, "Ooh, you're so sexy, Dylan... your skin is silky smooth," and his hairless chest squirms against mine. That gets our crotches grinding together and we're doing what amounts to a dirty slow dance in the bathroom. Oh my God, I love the feel of a boy's body. And, obviously it's not just me who's horny. With much of his troubles resolved, Willie's fully back in the saddle, so ta speak. Hell, we're both maybe a tad over-sexed, but what are we suppose to do about it... suffer? Nooo, that would be unnecessarily dumb. We've worked through a bad time and now we can kiss away the differences, and enjoy ourselves. Life's too short to do otherwise. And, damn, like I said, I just love the feel of Willie's taut male body; his wide shoulders and hard chest with his small hard nipples rubbing mine. He's got great definition in his biceps and calves too; an athletic, almost hairless boy's body that's pretty special. Slim, but well put together and it fits mine so well too. For me it's awesome to savor the feel of it, and I run my fingers up the back of his head, rippling through his short soft hair, and inhaling his youthful boyish aroma. I concentrate on two of my senses, feel and smell, taking in all the hotness and sexiness while giving a thought to those that can't appreciate this... what a shame for them. In short order, as we rub and squeeze each other's bodies, the sides of our faces moving against the other, boners appear and Willie's hands travel down my back to grab a butt cheek in each hand and he massage my ass with those narrow, strong hands as our heads come around and our noses rub together. Willie's pink tongue comes out to lick across my lips, and it's a great tongue too; not too firm and not to mushy. He always has lots of saliva that initially smells like toothpaste tonight, but soon that fades and it smells like Willie's saliva normally smells, which is a very clean pleasant scent. Following his lead, I stick my tongue out and we lick tongues which gets my boner expanding further as I hump into his crotch and he presses back against my thrusts. Willie groans and then goes into his make-out mode, which is as good or better than any I've experienced. When he's kissing, licking, or sucking my face and mouth he does it with such intensity it's as though there's nothing else on earth he'd rather being doing. My balls are soon churning spunk as Willie almost lifts me off my feet with his grip on my buttocks, sucking my tongue. My hips spastically hump against him; this is more like it. We go into a luscious French kiss, my nose pressed to the side of his cheek, his against mine, my arms around his neck... the taste, feel, and smell of him is intoxicating. Neither of us has had a orgasm for days and I, for one, am desperate for one. Our eyes close to concentrate on the important senses, as we go back to eating each others mouth, our faces grinding together, spit drooling down our chins, and as Willie's moaning into my mouth, he slides his hand inside my boxers and rubs the lips of my anus... rubbing, rubbing, rubbing, and then his finger goes inside me. Going up on my toes, sparklers going off behind my eyes, Willie pushes his finger in further, finding my prostate and then rub, rub, rubbing. Pulling my mouth off his now, I let out a high wheezing sound, thrust my crotch into him one last time and hold it against him, gasping, as cum floods my boxers. My boner is partially sideways in my shorts and the wetness spreads over that side of my shorts as I squeeze out another good stream of cum while holding onto Willie for all I'm worth. Tightening my stomach muscles I squeeze out more drools of cum, then feel weak, but fine, leaning against Willie with tingling sensations traveling around my body... ooooh, yeah! Willie's finger comes out of my asshole to give my buttocks a pat, as I'm going, "Whooooa, Willie, that felt sooo good! I needed that, dude." He kisses my cheek, muttering, "Boy, kinda like the old days, huh Dylan?" I grunt, "Yeah, jeez..." He pulls his hands off my buttocks rubbing up my back, saying, "Oh, that was fun getting you to spunk like that; was it okay?" Then he washes his hands. Man, what a mess in my shorts though, haha. Of course, in the old days Willie would have had me in pink undies and made me leave them on as a reminder of his sexy prowess over me, but nowadays he asks for assurance that it was okay. He'll get his mojo back eventually, I hope. I'm working on it. There's really nothing like an unexpected spontaneous orgasm... so fuckin' cool! Willie does that to me better than anyone, although Robby's learning fast. Squeezing the back of his neck, I say, "It was great, Willie, but I need to come down off my high before we get to the main event." He leans over from the sink and kisses me again, "Okay, Dylan." Which is a step in the right direction for him. He's been saying, "Sure, anything you want, Dylan." Finished with his hands-washing, we step back from each other and Willie plays with himself through his boxers. I can see his hard cock pushing out his shorts and a number of wet spots where precum soaked through. He grins, saying, "Blue balls, ya know? But I'm good with waiting a bit before fucking your awesome puss..., er, ass." Trying to encourage him to be more like his old self, I say, "I don't mind if you call my ass a boy-pussy or just pussy... I used to mind before, but it's okay now. It's only a word, and the old days were hot, remember?" He shrugs and nods his head, then says, "Yeah, the old days, but it doesn't seem like the old days much anymore." I say, "Hey, no worries, we'll get there, maybe not all the way, but far enough that it'll seem just as good as ever." He goes, "Oh, it's pretty good right now; it's awesome as a matter of fact. Anything with you is awesome." He's slipping back into the sad-sack role a little, but I ignore it and pull off my cum-soaked boxers holding them up, going, "You see what you caused? Haha..." He smiles and reaches over to rub my hair, then starts to say, "I love...." stops, and mumbles, "You know, I don't need to say it." I say, "Yeah, I know," then, "I'm gonna clean up a little." And, as I'm wiping my groin with a damp washcloth, I think about Robby putting his foot down about no more sex on the side... hmmm, we gotta talk about that. I mean, what's the harm? It's Robby I love, the rest is recreational sex with a friend, come on! Back in the bedroom I find Willie with a big grin on his face, holding up a pair of yellow girlie panties. He looks cute, but he doesn't seem sure of himself, so I take the panties and step into them, asking, "Happy now?" What the hell, the panties feel good, and I already lent Pedro one pair of my boxer shorts, and now the ones I had on are soaked with cum, so I'll wear these girlie things. My now soft cock and balls bulge out the front of the panties; they're so skimpy they wouldn't even cover the top of my pubes, if I hadn't shaved my pubic patch, that is. Willie says a formal, "Thank you, Dylan." For wearing the panties, I assume. Then he points to the bed, and asks, "Ya wanna snuggle on the bed while you recover? We used to spend a lot of time snuggling in bed." I go, "Sure," and we crawl on top of the bedspread where he immediately wraps me in his arms. Like I said before, we fit together nicely. His boners been reduced to a slightly firm 'stiffy' by now, and it's pressing against my panties; the wet spots on his boxers make little wet spots on my panties' butterflies as Willie continues rustling around on the bed, getting me immobile within his arms and legs. I'd forgotten about this; he can get me so tightly in his grasp that a scary hint of claustrophobia tickles my brain. Then, when I don't think he can have me in a tighter position he'll make an additional move, like repositioning my elbow or arm a little which locks up my other arm... I don't know how he does it, but it puts him in a dominant position, and I'm forced to be docile. Struggling just increases the claustrophobia and, while I can get out of his grasp if I really wanted to, I don't because I don't wanna break the spell I'm beginning to slip into, or have Willie regress. It's impossible to refrain from struggling at all, however, and I do some of it until Willie says, "Stop it! Just relax in my arms..." and that was definitely a taste of the old Willie, so I do as he says and relax, breathing slowly. "Bend your head over, Dylan... your hickey's totally gone. I'll bring it back up for you." I bend my head to the side, and he says, "Further over and hold it there," and now my dick feels good and I'm letting myself get into that floating frame of mine... so sexy and peaceful and pleasurable. I pat myself on the back, in my mind, because I helped Willie regain some of his confidence. If I act submissive a little bit, he'll be able to recapture some of his dominance. I don't want it to get out of control, just a taste of the old days would be nice. Giving me a hickey is a good start, and he thought of it. Willie begins with wet kisses to start the process, then he'll do little bites, then licks, but mostly sucking a piece of skin between his teeth and tonging it. He has always insisted I wear one of his hickeys, and I don't mind it in these strange circumstances, something familiar anyway. Robby takes it further than Willie, actually. To those who can't appreciate the sexual beauty of being submissive during sexual activities, I can only say... that's a shame. It's obviously not a conscious choice, it's what feels good and I've been basically a submissive sex partner from the start. I recognized the sexiness of it way back to my first time with fat Carl. I recognized it back then, but had no name for it; I didn't think to myself, "Oh, you're submissive." Didn't know the word back then. Now I think Carl's a shitbird, but back then I became infatuated with him without understanding why. He was dominant and undoubtedly took advantage of me, but now I'm glad he did because it's opened a whole world for me. Yeah, I guess Carl fucked me into being submissive to him, that was a part of it, but he manipulated me in other ways too; mind games. Then I met Willie, who's also basically dominant because that's what he thought he should be... the way Larry was to him. But Willie's dominant in a much nicer way that Carl ever was, and then Willie and me discovered love together, which I now see as 'puppy love', but it's the reason we could break away from Carl and Larry. Willie, well, he seems to still be in love with me which is nice in one way and uncomfortable in another. In any case, Willie still has a place in my heart even though he's flawed. Hell, who of us isn't?! What I'm saying is: it's easy for me to let myself 'go' with Willie... it's like wearing an old favorite pair of slippers... not romantic love for me, but really a nice sexual outlet with a nice friend, and fond memories. My mind drifts back to the hickey Willie's sucking on my neck because it's beginning to burn, and I try moving my head further away, without success, and that's when the true feeling of being trapped comes over me and a larger wave of claustrophobia clouds my brain. Not wanting to ruin the mood I'm in, I force myself to become docile again, knowing this just heightens Willie's feeling of dominance, but it also helps the claustrophobia to fade into the background. That scary feeling is always just around the corner though, so I'm very docile for Willie to keep the bad feeling away. When I began to struggle Willie just tightens his arm-hold around my Adam's apple, saying sternly, "Stay still!" and my cock, tight between my thighs, moves slightly, feeling good. It's comfortable feeling like I'm back under Willie's control and this hickey's really burning too; he's taken it past Robby's monstrous hickeys. My docile posture has aroused Willie, like I knew it would, and I can feel his cock, once again hard, against my buttocks. He kisses the back of my head, again muttering, "Stay still," as he unwraps one arm from around me and reaches down to pull my panties below my buttocks. I've already told him I want it, so it's not like Willie's being overly aggressive. Except I may have heaped too much submissive posture on him, too soon; I don't want him getting the wrong idea. Then my mind is on his boner, the head of his hard cock is positioned so that it's just spreading the lips of my anus, halfway in. Willie's breathing raggedly, he asks, "Is this what you've been waiting for, baby?" Well there's another touch of the old Willie. I'm trying to help Willie get back to himself, but this is developing into a major turn-on for me too. I love gay sex with a sexy boy; hell, the worst sex I've ever had wasn't all that bad. Sometimes the stars are aligned just right, and my partner and me are on the same wave length, creating a hotter than normal experience and I can feel that's maybe happening here. Maybe it's as simple as neither of us having any sex for three days or so, but starting with Willie bringing on my spontaneous orgasm a little while ago, this just feels like one of those special days. To Willie's question, 'Is this what you've been waiting for?' I mutter, "Yeah, Willie, it is," and he humps the head of his precum coated cock past my sphincter muscle, with me going, "Oooh, ahh, ahh." Willie slowly presses his long cock up my ass, inch by inch. It's wicked tight and hurts, but the hurts a good kind, surrounded by pleasure spots in my rectum that creates a little pain mixed with pleasure, and my cock continues to get harder and harder. Both arms are back around me again and they, in conjunction with his legs, have me immobile. When Willie's hairless groin is pressing against my buttocks, his eight inches of bone is up inside me, but he does a final thrust anyway, and he gets in a tiny bit more. We're plastered together, crotch to ass. Willie murmurs, "This is making me feel like I'm living again, instead of just existing. I want to try doing you like I used to, baby," and he goes back to sucking my stinging hickey until I buck my body, protesting, "That really stings, Willie!" and he yanks his arm roughly around my neck, snapping, "Stay still, goddammit!" Oh boy, that did it; I'm in the familiar pleasant trance-like state now for sure, being totally submissive to Willie's dominant posture. My cock is so hard it's aching as I let myself be completely docile to Willie, and he mutters, "Good, babe, just like that, I'm sorry to get rough with you, but I know you kinda like that anyway. I'm almost done this hickey." Oh fuck! It's a surreal wonderful feeling now... impaled on Willie's long boner, straining my neck to the side to please him as he sucks on my stinging hickey. Wetness between my legs as precum drools from my boner.. ahhhh, so sexy. This is definitely familiar territory. That boy rebounded awfully fast. He did it with my encouragement so I can't really bitch about a little stinging from the hickey- building he's doing. Damn, it burns though. I'm wrapped up by Willie's body, sweat's forming between us, there's his saliva drying on my face from him licking it in the bathroom and his precum's drooling up my ass, and I love it; I really do. It'll be good to get rid of my horniness. Anyway, I love all Willie's bodily fluids when I'm in this state of mind... his spit, sweat, and cum. Out of breath, he mutters, "Okay, I've given you a beauty of a hickey; now, for this," and he slowly withdraws his boner from my ass, withdraws it all the way out and it becomes pressed in between his belly and my buttocks, the head of it extending to the lower part of my back. We're both breathing hard, sexually aroused... I wait for instructions as the lips of my anus quiver, my rectum enlarged and empty, missing that hard flesh rod of Willie's. His face is next to mine, his lips at my ear, Willie quietly asks, "You want to suck my cock a little, baby?" and I do, so I nod my head, mumbling, "Okay, Willie," and he lets me loose, turning me around and getting a hand behind my head to pull my face into his crotch. His cock is slippery-wet as he rubs it around my face, my tongue comes out, licking at it as he moves it around spreading precum and my ass juices all over my nose, cheeks and chin. He chuckles, then says, "Open up," and in a hypnotic state, I open my mouth and he slides his cock onto my tongue, continuing the slide until the head's at my gag reflex area, and then with a hump of his hips the head pops into my throat and Willie rotates his hips moaning, "Ohhh, yeaaah..." He pulls it out and does the same hump of the hips pushing it down my throat again, making me gag this time. He goes, "Oh, I'm sorry," which isn't what the old Willie would say, but there's progress. He pulls his cock almost all the way back out so just the head's on my tongue. He leaves it there as a treat for me, so I suck on it; the head swells as I suck precum from the gaping pee slit. Fifteen seconds of that and he pulls his cock free with me licking my lips, gasping for air. "Over on your back now, baby," he orders, and when I don't move fast enough he gives me a smack on my ass, saying, "Come on babe, move it!" I yelp, then roll over as he's getting off the bed. On my back, Willie grabs my ankles and pulls me down the mattress towards him so my asshole is just off the mattress, then pushes my legs up, saying, "Hold your awesome legs back for me, okay?" and he runs the palm of his hand down both my calves, pushing them forward. I get an arm around each leg with my boner poking up between them. Willie's got me hot and ready for a good fuck; his demeanor is more than a shadow of his former one, it's just right for me tonight... I wanna please, so I conscientiously pull my legs down until my knees are at my sides, and hold them there. Surprising me, Willie gets on his knees and licks both my buttocks, then does wet sucking kisses, muttering, "What a great ass, Dylan... you're the sexiest boy I've ever known, and you don't even try to be." That makes me feel good even though I have heard that before. And, I'm not exactly sure why some guys feel that way, but I'm kinda proud of it just the same... I mean, I don't try to be sexy, like Willie said; I wouldn't know how I'd go about that as a matter of fact. He's busy licking my left buttocks, and each lick gets closer and closer to my hole causing shivers to run around both butt cheeks, then goose bumps raise on my arms, which doesn't make any sense, but there it is. There isn't much rimming going on between the gay boys I hook-up with, but once in awhile it does happen so I always clean my ass really well, just in case. Call me vain if you want, but I've even checked my ass with a handheld mirror to see if any hairs have popped-up there; if they did, I'd use Nair or something to eliminate them because a hairless ass is the sexiest as far as I'm concerned. I'm of the opinion that as gay guys get older and more mature they do rimming on a more regular basis. I don't know that for a fact though, just guessing because it is hot. I like to rim Robby, although I don't do it as often as I'd like to; it seems a very submissive thing to do which is why I'm surprised Willie's doing it to me. He soon has me squirming on the bed, anxious for his tongue to lick over my asshole, but he's doing my right buttocks now, teasing me, I guess. Sucking cock and allowing myself to be fucked are fairly submissive acts, but rimming's the most submissive of all. Of course, if a dominant partner orders you to fuck him, that's still submissive because you're doing what you're told; but I can't see that happening very often between true sub/dom sex partners. Willie's tongue is now circling my anus' lips which I cam feel quivering on their own. More squirming from me on the bed, and little squeaky noises from my throat now too. God, Willie's got me so hot I'm sweating. What a great tongue he has! Then, oooh, there he goes with a full tongue lap completely covering my asshole. He holds it there, then laps at my hole and gets me going, "Ah! Ah! Ah!" while trying to scrunch down on the bed toward him to feel more of his tongue. Plenty of saliva down there too, and Willie's face is now buried in my ass, his nose in my crack, and he's working his tongue inside me. Getting a hand on the front of my thighs to keeps me from squirming so he can fucks my hole with his tongue as precum drool down the shaft of my boner to pool on my belly. I cry out, "Fuck me, Willie... fuck me hard!" The whole experience is nuclear hot and my asshole is sloppy and loose-feeling, the lips of my anus grip his tongue as it slides in and out of me. Again, this time in a whine, I'm like, "Come on, Willie, fuck me... please fuck me..." He pulls his tongue out as I'm letting go of one leg to grab my cock and stroke it, but Willie slaps my hand away, saying, "NO! I'll fuck your cum out of you," and my hand goes back to my leg again, sweat rolling from my forehead. Even in this cool bedroom Willie's sweating too, and he's left his sweat and spit all over my ass. Two hard, "SMACK!" SMACK!" on my ass as Willie says, "Keep your hands away!" then when I go "OW!" he says, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. Do you want me to stop smacking your ass?" I shake my head 'no' because that might break this sexy mood I'm in, although his smacks can sometime sting like fire. Willie's leaning over me now, between my legs, he drop his head to mine, and he kisses me. Shortly, his tongue goes in my mouth and even though it's just been in my ass I try sucking it from his mouth. I'm getting into a sexual frenzy and loving it although I'm frustrated from the need to be fucked. Willie drags his tongue from my mouth and all the way down between my pecs, across my belly button to take my balls in his mouth. Sucking on them and pulling my scrotum out he gets my precum on his nose, mixing with his sweat; there are droplets of sweat all over his face and he has a look in his eyes like this is the most excited he's ever been... a look of sheer pleasure too, which is probably how my eyes look too. He scrunches my balls against the roof of his mouth with his tongue until I'm whimpering, then he spits out my balls and sucks the head of my boner, draining it of precum; spits drooling down his chin. My cock is like granite, and when he pulls his mouth off of it, it's unmoving; it's so hard it doesn't even sway. My eyes are teary and shiny, I'm gasping for air staring into Willie's eyes. He has a look of contentment now, as he says, "Do you really need it, baby? Do ya?" I'm nodding my head looking at his hard eight inch, dripping boner, mumbling, "Yes, yes..." Then, to further tease, he slips his finger easily into my wet asshole and pulls on it, then finger fucks me for a second, staring at me. Then he casually takes his boner in his fist and strokes it a few times before lining it up to my asshole, hesitates a second, then pushes inside me four inches and I'm going, "Ahhhhhh, ahhhh!" then a long sigh of relief as I tighten my sphincter and try humping back on his thrust to get it further up my ass. Leaning over me again, his face a foot from mine he pushes that awesome cock all the way in; all the way up to my Adams apple it seems. I'm cooing with pleasure, a big smile on my face to match Willie's as he comes in for a sloppy kiss, and to tell me, "I love you more than ever, and I've decided I'm going to say it whether you want to hear it or not," and he lightly slaps my face. Even though we both know he's not suppose to be playing the 'love card' I don't argue with him, I don't even want to argue with him. This is too perfect a sexual encounter to mess with it. Willie's done everything just right to bring me to the height of sexual arousal, I may never have been this aroused before; Robby and I usually can't drag it out because we're too eager to 'do it'. This is one of those rare times, for whatever reason, that both of us, Willie and me, have done just the right things to get each other and we're as hot as anyone has a right to be. Still leaning over me, breathing his fresh breath in my face, Willie fucks me hard and fast with long steady strokes that gets my head moving side to side on the bed as I lick my lips, continuing to hold my legs back, totally open for Willie's fuck, and an awesome one it is too. His long hard wet cock sliding tightly in and out of my asshole as I'm making whimpering sounds to match Willie's grunting ones; his grunts are partially due to the the effort, but some from pleasure too. My sounds are all from the depths of intense pleasure. Sweat drips from his face to my chest as I gasp for oxygen in between whimpers, and grunts of, "Harder.." and it's so wonderful, wonderful in the many ways sex should be with your buddy, or else why do it? Finally letting go of my legs, they wrap around him to try pulling him further inside me as Willie's eyes close, probably close to his orgasm. I wish mine, and his, would hold off forever, but that's not happening. My heavy, sperm-filled balls are now up at the top of their sac, pushing at the base of my cock, then an unexpected spit ball of cum shoots out of my cock, as I go, "Eeeeee!" and then fast moving spurts of cum follow one after another, four of them, each spattering on Willie's chest. Willie's head is back now and he's gritting his teeth like he's in pain, then "AAAGGGHHH!" from Willie, and my ass is filled with his creamy teen spunk; it gushes into my ass without that one first sharp streak that I can sometimes feel, there's too much cum for that to happen this time, and it's already rolling out past Willie's cock to run slowly down my buttocks, like heavy whipping cream. He continues driving his cock inside me as I'm rolling around on the bed, totally spent but enjoying the firecrackers in my ass, and the throbbing joy in my dick, and the electricity running all over me. I savor it and then my shoulders shudder so hard Willie opens his eyes to see what happened. He sees my smile, spit all around my mouth, so Willie smiles too, tries to say something but nothing comes out, so he just lays down on me, his cock still hard, still inside me. His chest spreads the cum I shot there all over my chest as our mouths sloppily connect and we kiss, moaning at the after-shock of our orgasms, which I believe were both fantastic. After a minute or so of heavy breathing, Willie chuckles, and says, "Better than I remember; what a great ass you have, Dylan." I ask, jokingly, "Did you always have such a long dick?" He goes, "Only since I was twelve," and I mumble, "Lucky you, and me, haha." We rustle around on the bed for a bit with a few quick kisses, but we're pretty much satisfied for tonight. "We're gonna sleep grungy tonight, Dylan," and I say, "Lets not and say we did, dude... I've got spit and sweat and cum all over me, and this bedspread is gonna need a good washing, and while I loved all that stuff a little while ago, I wanna take a shower now. Willie squints he's eyes and presses his lips together, not approving of my rejection of his grungy idea one bit, but he winds-up, saying, "Oh, okay, sure, Dylan." We take the shower with Willie sneaking side glances at me, he's getting his mojo back so he didn't appreciate me saying, "No!" I don't want to see him slipping back to sad-sack demeanor, so I'll try to compromise next time, instead of just saying, "Forget about it, I'm not doing... whatever it is he wants to do. It's dicey work building-up some one's self esteem, it seems. After the quick shower we throw the stained bedspread on the floor and sleep under clean sheets; there's nothing like a good night's sleep when you're perfectly sexually satisfied and contented... except, before falling asleep I think of Robby and have a little bit of a guilty thing going for me, and that's not fair, I'm sort of on a mission of mercy here! to be continued...... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com or donnymunford@gmail.com