Date: Fri, 2 Nov 2012 05:56:10 -0700 (PDT) From: donny mumford Subject: DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR Chapter 48 by Donny Mumford DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR Chapter 48 by Donny Mumford Chubby and I are on our way to a party. We enjoyed our awesome dinner at Ken's Steak House. That steak house has never disappointed us; the foods great, and we always have interesting conversations there too. After dinner Chubby called his ex-girlfriend, who hate's him now, to find out where the party's at. It's going down at a kid's house from Amherst College named Jesse. He lives in Dover, so his family must be rich; Jesse's a junior and he's the boyfriend of a girlfriend of Chubby's 'ex', Mary Jo. That's how Chubby knows him and according to Chubby I'll think Jesse's hot. We'll see about that, but if he's straight what difference does it make? There are way too many hot straight boys as it is; it's a shame really. We get lost a couple of times, but finally find the right street and then it's obvious which is the party-house because cars are parked up and down the street on either side of it, and the house is lit-up like the Forth Of July, including the back yard. We park and walk down the sidewalk to the lit-up house with Chubby asking, "Do you suppose this kid's parents are aware their son is throwing a party? I mean, look at this place, it's awesome. You'd thing the parents would be hesitant about turning it over to a bunch of college kids swilling down booze." I go, "There are all kinds of parents. Maybe they're vacationing in the Bahamas or something, and know nothing about it." Walking around the back of the house we find lots of people of all ages; not just college kids. Many adult types too. Chubby mumbles, "An odd mixture of partiers, maybe it's a block party." There's a disc jockey playing tunes, and from listening to one of those tunes and the beginning of another, it appears the DJ's rocking oldies from the eighties. Too bad too because that's not a really good decade for rock 'n roll. There's close to a hundred people in this large backyard with a big open-sided white tent set-up in the back of the yard and a temporary dance floor in front of it. Inside the tent are tables and chairs like you might see at an outside wedding reception. At the far side there's a catered buffet with servers still busily serving food even at this relatively late hour of nine-forty. Chubby and I don't need food however, so we head to the bar that's been set up at the other end of the tent. I mumble, "This should be interesting; us getting served," Chubby goes, "Why? Who the fuck checks for ID at a party?" Not these bartenders apparently 'cause I see a couple of cute boys, who appear to be fifteen or sixteen, come away with beers. The two bartenders are female types in their late twenties, or at least that's my best guess. They both have big hair with one of them rockin' an improbably shade of red hair and the other's a peroxide blond. Big tits with a lot of them showing, certainly more than I need to see. We wait in line only a few minutes before it's our turn and the improbable redhead goes, "What kind of beer can I get you boys?" Chubby says, "I'm feeling a vodka and cranberry juice tonight, not beer." She says, "We'll hot stuff, you can feel a vodka all night long if you want to, but unless you're twenty-one the only thing we're authorized to serve you is light beer. We've got Amstel, Becks, or Bud light." Chubby goes, "How 'bout you trust me that I'm twenty-one, and I'll bring you my driver's license to prove it in a little over a year." She laughs, then says, "How 'bout I don't. There's people behind you in line, honey, so what's it going to be?" He mutters, "Becks," and I say, "Make it two," and she does. We walk outside the tent and notice people smoking cigarettes so Chubby lights one for us, muttering, "Who cards at a freakin' party anyway?" I take the cigarette, and say, "The improbable redhead, that's who," then Mary Jo shows up magically, and says to Chubby, "Jeffrey, you have more balls than a Christmas tree! The nerve of you showing up at Bab's party." Chubby takes a swig of beer, then goes, "You're surprised? You told me where it's at, dummy, and anyway this isn't Bab's party, numbnuts, it's Jesse's party." Mary Jo's apparently had maybe more than her share of beer already and there's a slight slurring to her speech. She retorts, "Jesse is Bab's boyfriend so it's her party too." Chubby takes the cigarette from me and inhales a drag, then blows the exhale in Mary Jo's face, saying, "No, it's not! Hey, aren't you going to say hello to my main man, Dylan?" She looks at me, telling Chubby, "No, I don't like him and I never have. He's sneaky." I go, "I beg your pardon. I'm not sneaky, am I Chubby?" She says, "His name is Jeffrey, dufus; whaddaya think, he's ten years old?" I go, "I've got an idea, why don't you go fuc..." Chubby interrupts me, with, "Mary Jo, stop stalking me! You had your chance and ya blew it! now run along and stop being a pain in the ass, if that's even possible for you." She tries slapping him, but he moves his head back and Mary Jo trips and winds up sitting on her ass. Chubby nods his head at me, meaning let's drift over there near the dance floor, and that's what we do as Mary Jo yells, "I hate you! And ya got a small dick too!" Chubby laughs, as many adults frown at Mary Jo, then two girls come over to help her up. Chubby's cool as a cucumber, he says, "She can't drink for shit," and the way he dismisses the whole thing just strikes me as funny, so I'm chuckling when a very handsome boy about my size, with short pale red hair, almost a strawberry blond, says, "Jeff, glad you made it, dude." Chubby goes, "Jesse, whassup?" Jesse spreads his arm indicating the party scene, saying, "This is whassup, dude. I see Mary Jo is still hating on you; she's a pain in the ass." Chubby like, "Oh her, she's just someone that I used to know." Jesse points at Chubby, smiling, "A line from Goyte's hit song of the same phrase," and Chubby says to me, "Jesse knows the words to every song that's ever been recorded." I go, "Huh!," and Jesse says, "Not really, just popular songs. I check out the lyrics by Googling them; it's shocking how dumb some of them are too. Many songs have a catchy phrase, like, 'She's just someone that I used to know,' and the rest of the words are gobbledegook." Then he asks Chubby, "Jeff, who's your friend?" Chubby's like, "Oh yeah, sorry. This here is my best bud in the world, Dylan Newman. Dylan, Jesse Butler." Jesse and I do a quick curled-fingers handshake and he goes into the one arm hug with his nose brushing my cheek awkwardly. He's like, "Dylan, I love that cologne you've got on, dude. What is it?" I shrug, muttering, "I don't ever wear cologne, Jesse, but it's nice to meet ya." Jesse's haircut is similar to mine, and he's got that pale, clear complexion I admire so much. Of course, with pale red hair it's almost always going to be a pale complexion. No freckles that you often see on the face of a redhead. Jesse's face is very smooth sand clear; it doesn't appear he shaves yet so he has a very youthful look about him. He exclaims, "You telling me that's your normal scent?" and Chubby deadpans, "Yeah, he's exceptional that way." Jesse gets a hand on each of my shoulders and pulls me to him, surprisingly strong grip too. He puts his cheek next to mine and inhales, then lets me go, saying, "I'm dropping Babs; then you and me are gonna go some place and make out; okay Dylan?" I ask Chubby, "Do you mind if Jesse and I excuse ourselves for a little bit? We'll only be about ten minutes," and this gets a laugh from Chubby and a startled expression from Jesse. He goes, "I'm kidding, fer chrissakes." With a grin, I mutter, "Damn!" and now Jesse chuckles too, "Ya got me there, Dylan," and to Chubby, "Your friend's a hot shit, Jeff. You guys wanna get something to eat?" Chubby's like, "No thanks, we just had dinner at Ken's. What's the occasion for the party?" Jesse says, "It's an annual event for the neighborhood. Everyone from the neighborhood is invited except for the family at the end of the street who my mother's feuding with, and some of my friends are here too of course, but it's not an open-open party, if you know what I mean." Chubby asks, "What's the feud about?" Jesse laughs, then goes, "Something to do with a neighborhood Christmas party three years ago. I've forgotten what the problem was and probably they have too, but ya know..." Chub takes a big swallow of beer, going, "Oh, a Hatfield and MeCoy thing." Jesse laughs, "Well, no gunfire yet." He's drinking a mixed drink, so Chubby asks, "Jesse you're not twenty-one, right?" Jesse's like, "No, I'll be twenty-one in October, why?" Chubby points at the mixed drink, with a shrug like, 'What's up with that?' Jesse says, "Fuck, Jeff, I'll get you any drink you want." Chubby goes, "This Becks is bitter and I'm almost done it anyway, how 'bout a vodka and cranberry juice?" Jesse's like, "No problem," and he puts his arm around my neck and does the cheek to cheek thing again, saying, "How 'bout you, Dylan? And damn, you smell good. Maybe I really will dump Babs for you." I go, "Count me in, Jesse, you're hot." This makes Jesse laugh nervously again as we head for the bar. Jesse says to Chubby, "Your bud here has quite the sense of humor." Chubby smirks at me, saying to Jesse, "Not really," and I say, "A screwdriver would go good right about now." Keeping his arm around my neck, Jesse says, "Well, a screwdriver is coming your way, ya hot shit." My dick's checking out the situation, trying to figure out if it should spring a boner because Jesse's smelling good too, and he's the cute type of handsome, and he's got a real sense of sexiness about him. He's either the friendliest kid on the planet or he's bi, and I'm guessing both. Jesse doesn't wait in line at the bar; instead he goes to the end of the counter and when the improbable redhead notices him she comes over and he tells her the three drinks he wants. She makes them as she's saying to Jesse, "Honey, could you tell your father we're almost out of vodka. He said there's more if we need it, and we need it." Jesse goes, "Sure thing, Maggie," then to us, "Here's your drinks, guys," then to Maggie, pointing at Chubby and me, "These two are twenty-one for the night," and she twist her lips in a strange way indicating, I assume, she doesn't like it, but she'll do it. "Okay, doll, but it's on you, not me." Jesse gives her his awesome smile and she can't help but smile back. I can't help but smile either. Damn, he's a rare one alright. I don't know who Babs is, but she ain't good enough for Jesse! I'll bet on that. He says, "I gotta run Maggie's errand, but I'll catch up with you two later," and he does the cheek thing with me again, muttering, "One more time," then, "I can't fuckin' believe how sexy your friend is, Jeff," and he's off. Chubby's chuckling, saying, "Even straight boys can't resist you, Dylan. That's awesome, bro." As we wander out of the tent, I ask, "You sure he's not bisexual?" Chubby shrugs, mumbling, "I didn't think he was, but I guess I don't really know. No one's ever mentioned it in all the months that pain in my ass, Mary Jo, and me have been going together. I actually met him at Mary Jo's first party and, come to think back on it, he was extremely friendly right off the bat. Yeah, a very touchy-feely guy too, although I didn't think much about it at the time. He's porking Babs for sure though 'cause she's told Mary-pain-in-my-ass-Jo about it on numerous occasions." Chubby lights another cigarette as the DJ's getting a little more contemporary, rolling out a few cuts now from The Killers last CD, Day & Age. One drag into the cigarette, two girls come up to Chubby. One of them, a very thin girl with a big rack on her, says, "Oh my God, Jeffrey, I just heard an hour ago that you dumped Mary Jo." Chubby's like, "Hi Tina," then nodding at the other girl, he says, "Whassup, Peg?" Peg says, "Why'd ya dump Mary Jo?" then she adds, "Actually, I should ask why'd it take you so long?" The girls giggle without Chubby bothering to answer either of them. Then Tina asks, "Who's this sexy thing you got with you, Jeffrey?" Chubby looks around like he doesn't know who Tina's referring to. The girls giggle again, and Tina says, "He's standing right fuckin' next to you, Jeffrey." Chub goes, "Oh, him? This is my best bud ever, Dylan Newman. Dylan, meet Tina and giggles, also known as Peggy O'Rielly." Peggy says, "Oh, Jeffrey!" and she whacks his shoulder. I mumble, "Nice to meet ya both," and giggles asks, "Do you dance, Dylan?" I go, "A little." Chubby says, "I taught him how to dance way back in middle school," which gets Peggy giggling again, muttering, "Gawd, I hope not, your dancing sucks!" Chubby looks offended, then says, "It's simply too advanced a style for you, Peg, that's the problem you're having with it." She takes my hand, saying to Chubby, "Let's see how well you taught him to dance". Chubby says something to Tina and she laughs hysterically with her hand covering her mouth, then she says, "You're so bad, Jeffrey!" Well, Peggy made fun of Chubby's dancing, but she's unlikely to win any dance contest herself. She has a strange, seemingly, improvised way of dancing. She's the kind of dancer who pays no attention to who she's dancing with; she might as well be dancing by herself, which is basically what she's doing. I suffer through two great songs buy the Killers with Peggy's dancing almost ruining the tunes for me. Then we go back over to Tina and Chubby to find three other college kids with them. One I've seen around Merrimack's campus and the other two are strangers. The kid from Merrimack goes, "Newman, whassup?" I can't think of his name, so I say, "Hey, not much, dude, whassup with you?" and we bump fists. Guys rarely answers the 'whassup' question. A short stocky kid, named Quinton, is telling very risqué jokes that are very funny and they get everyone laughing louder than necessary, but it's kind of a contagious laugh. I'm thinking, 'Too bad Connor's not here; we could have a joke telling contest'. Quinton, like some overweight kids, especially girls, has a very self deprecating type of humor. Very funny as I said, and he entertains us for a good fifteen minutes. I don't know if it's a planned stand-up routine or spontaneous random thoughts, but his observations in between the jokes get some serious belly laughs, not just snickers. My stomach hurts from laughing by the time Quinton moves his act to another group. Chubby gets dragged to the dance floor by Tina, and Peggy's talking with two other girls a few feet away, so the kid who's name I can't remember and me talk together; we talk about, what else, the only thing we have in common... Merrimack. I can't say I agree with much of what he says about our college because he exaggerates everything, like he's selling me on how great Merrimack is. It reminds me of high school when at sporting events the kids in the crowd who go to the other school extolled the virtues of their school over ours, as if anybody gives a shit. I've never been rah rah about Framingtom high, but I'd find myself defending the place anyway. A weird phenomenon. Finally, just before I die of boredom, Jesse shows up again. He ignores the boy with no name, and says to me, "Ya got a minute, Dylan?" I go, "Sure thing, Jesse," and drift away with him as no-name goes into the tent for another beer. I follow Jesse inside his house, and a great place it is too. Everything's brushed steel in the kitchen, or white cabinets with dark granite counter tops, and lots of them. Everything is spotless too, and I'm gawking at the opulence. Jesse says, "In here," and we go into a room that's probably their library, and Jesse closes the heavy wooden door behind us. I'm very curious what he has to say. The library in Jesse's house is not as large as Willie's, but unlike Willie's library, the books in here look like they've been read. Touchy-feely Jesse puts a hand on each of my shoulders, asking, "Can you keep a secret?" I go, "Sure, what is it?" He says, "Um, I'm bisexual, although very few people know about it, therefore the need to keep it a secret". I mutter, "Okay, sure," and smiling a very cute smile, he then adds, "Thanks, but that's just the first secret. Can you keep another one?" I go, "Sure, I'm good at keeping secrets." He says, "The other one is: I want to kiss you 'cause you're an extremely sexy guy and you turn me on." I go, "Okay, I'll keep that secret locked away too. Can you keep a secret?" He nods that he can, and I say, "I'm not bisexual." He laughs again, and now he's blushing while shaking his head slightly, like maybe he's made a major miscalculation, then he says, "Oooh, too bad for me, but why do I need to keep that a secret?" I go, "Okay, you don't need to keep that secret, how 'bout this one. I'm gay." He rolls his eyes up in relief, squeezing my biceps, going, "Whoa, that's tricky of you, Dylan! Dammit, but thank God I guessed right, unless you're breaking my balls again!" I have to laugh a little myself; he's so unpretentious. Jesse's smiling, mumbling, "I was hoping you were at least bi, or maybe you'd considered it at least. You being gay is like hitting the jackpot though. Ya know, I was hoping I read your body language correctly because it took all the balls I have to tell you my secret." I ask, "Why'd you take the chance, Jesse?" He shrugs, rubbing the palm of his hand over my head now, then says, "I thought there's just something about the way you accepted my rude smelling of your hot personage that gave me hope that you might be. You know, because you sort of leaned into me instead of pulling away; pulling away is usually the reaction a straight kid has." I go, "Personage?" He says, "That's a word, I'm pretty sure." I shrug, mumbling, "Didn't realize I was leaning into you; reflex action I guess. Do you do that very often... smell other guys?" He chuckles nervously, muttering, "No, absolutely not. Maybe three other times, at the most, in my whole life. I couldn't help myself with you though. Does it happen to you often?" I go, "No, not nearly enough, actually." Another laugh and then Jesse pulls me into a touchy-feely hug, muttering, "I'm making a total fool of myself. Could that be the third secret you keep for me?" I say, "Sure, but you're not making a fool of yourself as far as I'm concerned. I think you're a rather rare combination of attractiveness and personality and I find you very appealing, and I'd guess you're having very little trouble scoring with the girls too." He backs away from our hug to drag the palm of his hand over my cheek, muttering, "Look who's calling me attractive, you're gorgeous, but in a very boyish way. How old are you anyway?" I blush a little at that, which pisses me off, then tell him, "I'll be twenty in a couple of months," and Jesse raises his eyebrows in surprise. "I was hoping for at least eighteen; damn you're young looking. Lucky you! Do you have any trouble picking up guys?" I say, "How about you answer my question about you're luck with the girls," he says, "No trouble at all. I've had a girlfriend consistently from my sophomore year in high school right through college, although not the same one; there have been maybe half a dozen. How 'bout you with the boys?" He hasn't stopped touching some part of me, nor stopped staring at me since we came in here. It's very flattering because he's admiring me like I'm some kind of rare, exotic species. I'm like, "Um, no... no trouble with the boys, not really, although I don't try very hard." Jesse nods his head, mumbling, "I wouldn't think you'd need to try very hard," as he rubs my shoulders and squeezes my biceps, like he can't believe I'm actually here with him. I certainly don't mind him fondling my body; actually I'd like to do a little fondling of him too. Mostly though, I'm curious what he has in mind, although it's a curiosity without high expectations of Jesse proposing anything more than the kiss he mentioned in jest earlier. Bisexuals are usually unsure of themselves when they encounter the real deal, not having experienced much on this side of the ledger. He's a very likable guy though, as I've mentioned, and I like looking at him, so I'm enjoying our intimate chat. Jesse has smallish teeth, but not freakishly small. They're just not big like some guy's teeth; Jesse's are just right and ridiculously white. I ask a non sequitur, "Do you use whitener on your teeth?" He laughs his easy, ready, laugh again, "I didn't expect that question, Dyan, you're a funny kid, but the answer is no, I don't. They're naturally white. How 'bout you." I say, "Ditto," and he brings his head over slowly, asking quietly, "May I?" and I do a slight nod 'yes' of my head and our lips meet and he does a hesitant lips-only kiss; it's a short exploratory kiss and it goes quite well from my point of view. I kissed back gently to match him and he backs away licking his nice rosy lips, sighing quietly. My dick goes, 'What was that?' And begins checking things out to see if there's work for it to do. I'm giving Jesse a little smile as he stares into my eyes, then he asks, "Do you have a boyfriend, Dylan?" I go, "Yes, do you?" He says, "No, I've never had a boyfriend. As a matter of fact I'm deep, deep, deep in the bisexual closet, except for that one friend of mine who also claims to be bisexual, although he never dates girls." I ask, "You sure you're not gay?" He says, "No, I'm not sure, but I like screwing girls so I'm probably a true bisexual, although I'm not real sure about my bi friend. All my life I've been much luckier with the girls then the boys, so I concentrated my efforts there. The last year though it seems my gay side is growing stronger as the urges are becoming quite noticeable and I'm doing a lot of boy watching. That's how come I knew how special you are the moment I saw you. Jeff looks a little like you, by the way, but he doesn't exude the sexiness you do. At least that's how I perceive you... awesomely sexy and inviting, so I took a big gamble and here we are." Then, with yearning in his eyes, he leans in again and we do an open mouth kiss which requires I put my sweating drink down on a highly waxed round table next to a heavy wooden chair. Hope my drink doesn't leave a ring on the tabletop. This open mouth kiss develops into a raucous make-out with lots of body and head rubbing by each of us, our hands on each other's heads and shoulders until Jesse drops his hands to my buttocks and squeezes and massages each cheek with his long-fingered hands. It all feels very nice; there's an intensity in everything Jesse does that borders on desperation. Lot's of spit swapping and teeth scraping, lips smacking and tongue sucking, and for sure two boners appear; one for each of us. After four or five minutes Jesse lets go of my ass and gropes my junk, moaning and sighing even as his mouth tries to devour mine. Then he slides the side of his face against mine and, breathing heavily, asks, "I want so much, maybe more that I've ever wanted anything before in my life, to feel my dick in your fantastically sexy ass. Of course you'll say no, and I understand that perfectly, but please, please, may I do that, please!" While I'm considering that, and trying to catch my breath, he goes on in a pleading way, "Your scent's enough to get me off just smelling you, but I'd die for a chance to slide my cock up your ass." Well, Jesse's turned me on pretty good too. He's sexy, very attractive and he smells sexy himself, but I'm meeting Robby later so I want to say no, except I say, "Yes, like I told you, you're very hot. Lets do it." He takes a deep breath of relief and, like Ryan last week, asks, "Really? You're not joking around again?" I shake my head a little, mumbling, "No, when it comes to young, hot dudes like yourself, I don't usually joke around and since I've got limited will power, I say yes more than no". He mutters, "Oh my God, I'm so glad you have limited willpower. And thanks for the compliment of including me in as one of the hot dudes, but especially thank you for letting me do it. It's been quite a while and you're like an... um, I don't know, the answer to my silent prayers." Then he takes another big breath, asking, "Can you tell I'm just a little bit excited and slightly overflowing with anticipation about this?" I go, "No, Jesse, you hide your emotions very well." He laughs at that too, then says, "No, I don't. God, you're awesome," and his mouth is back for more kissing with lots of tongue action. Another minute of that and he breaks away, saying, "I better get a condom on my hard penis before I pop-off in my fucking pants 'cause you are boner popping hot," and another laugh. Pulling a condom from his pants pocket, then dropping it, he shakes his head, saying, "I'm a little nervous." He picks it up and with his hands trembling, opens the condom package, pulls his pants down and rolls the condom onto his six inch boner. A boner that looks remarkably like mine. Maybe I'm dreaming. I stand in front of him as he's undoing my khaki pants, asking me a mumbled, "You always rock the preppy look?" I go, "Rarely. You caught me on a good night." He chuckles because he's dressed extremely preppy himself. Jesse's excited, but not especially shy; he pulls my pants and underwear down and my boner bounces up and down once it's free of my jockey shorts. "Nice dick," he mutters," then as a rectorial question, because it's obvious, "You shave your pubic hairs, don't ya?" I go, "No, I never grew any," and he laughs again, and gently turns me around. He guides his boner to my asshole and pushes the head in rather easily, with the lubed condom assisting nicely. Like me, Jesse doesn't have an especially fat boner, but it feels real good just the same and I lick my lips with anticipation of it filling my rectum. Getting his arms around my waist and resting the side of his face against mine, he murmurs another, "Thank you," as he pulls me onto his boned-up cock, much like Vinnie did recently. All the way up my ass it goes and I'm now sucking on my lips trying to be cool and not moan like I'm new at this. "What a great ass," he murmurs, then he begins fucking me rather slowly which surprises me because I expected he'd be like Connor, so excited about the opportunity for boy-on -boy sex that he'd fuck me wildly and a little out of control. Not the case here as Jesse continues to steadily drive his hard boner back and forth in my rectum in a very controlled manner. He's making quiet "Mmmm," sounds in my ear with each penetration. It's like he's savoring every second of this unexpected development, and he wants it to last a long time. Perhaps this fuck of my ass will need to last him for quite some time as well. The longer he does it the better it feels to me of course, and his boner is also thickening as he finally picks up a steady rhythm, which further increases the sensation of erotic pleasure in my rectum. My balls begin churning cum which creates that buzzing that I enjoy so much. It's feeling really good in my ass now too, but it's still such a gentle anal intercourse it's almost like a tease. After maybe five or six minutes Jesse's "Mmmm" sounds become more desperate sounding and he speeds up his fucking and now my cock is hard and I let out a few, "Oh, oh, um, ahh, Jesse..." He's reaching his climax point much too soon for me to shoot an orgasm onto the Oriental rug in this nice library. Another minute of fast, more erratic thrust, and now there's noisy heavy breathing from Jesse as a precum bubble pops out of the pee slit of my boner and I go, "Ooohhh, yeah..." and begin humping back into his thrust. Jesse grunts, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming, augh, augh," and then he makes an enthusiastic series of louder grunts in my ear, hugging me against his body like there's no tomorrow, doing very fast, short humps hard against me and letting out an excited series of, "Ahhh, ahh, ah, ah," as he's obviously climaxing into the condom. Some final full length thrust and he's done. I never really got all that close to cuming, and when he pulls his cock abruptly out of me the buzzing in my nuts subsides, and then stops altogether. I bite my lip, disappointed I didn't have an orgasm, but have just enough willpower not to embarrass myself by asking him to stick his boner back up my ass and fuck a climax out of me. I'm suppose to be the experienced, cool, gay boy here. So, I don't get to climax, but that does't mean I didn't enjoy it. The pleasure he got out of it almost makes-up for the fact I never reached orgasm myself. Not an experienced fucking technique by Jesse, but it was somehow kinda sweet. I mean, there are probably lots of boys who rarely get a chance to do what they really want to do, and Jesse might very well be one of them. He's so good looking there's no way he has a problem screwing girls, and there are no shortage of available straight girls for him to chooses from; certainly many more when compared to the number of available gay boys, especially if one is bi like Jesse, who's primarily known as straight. Gay boys who are brave enough to follow their nature aren't that common for seemingly straight boys. That's especially true because there's a lot of secret gay boys in our age group, so that removes them from the already relatively small group. Jesse's still holding onto me, his condom covered cock against my ass, hanging down now. He kisses me on the side of the face, murmuring, "Thank you, Dylan. Oh my God, did I need that; what a hot climax I just had." Then backing away, he pulls off his condom and as he holds it casually by his side there's a big ball of his sperm at the bottom, looking like a big ball bearing in a thin rubber sack. Taking another big breath, he says, "I know I climaxed so quickly you never had a chance to get off. I'll suck your cock for you though, if you'd like. I sure owe it to you." I go, "No, that's not necessary, I enjoyed it, Jesse. You're a pretty awesome guy yourself. Anyway, I'm meeting my boyfriend at eleven-thirty, so....." He asks, "You sure? I really appreciated this great sex! Great for me, that is." Then he laughs again, adding, "You must think I'm pretty pathetic, but you have no idea how hot that was for me and how long it's been between opportunities to engage in sex with another guy my age." We pull our pants up and Jesse goes into a small bath off the library to flush the condom down the toilet. He's subdued when he comes out, probably mad at himself for giving in to his strong homosexual urges; maybe hating that he has them. The desperately excited and sex-hungry Jesse is replaced by a quiet, unsure-of-himself twenty year old, fighting confusion about his sexuality, probably wanting to be straight as that's surely the most popular avenue to travel with better paved roads in that route than the bumpy streets of gaysville. He sits down heavily in the wood armchair that's next to the table my drink is on, and quietly says, "I'm not usually so, um, ballsy as I was when begging you to take pity on me, Dylan". I take a deep breath, not looking forward to Jesse's second guessing of himself, but feeling compassion for him too. Sexuality is an extremely important part of who each of us is, and it's often a rocky trip. Sitting across from him at the small round table, I'm hesitant to pick the drink up because there's going to be a ring on the shiny surface of the table from the sweating highball glass, and that will be awkward. Jesse probably doesn't care about that though. He looks up at me, and asks, "Do you think I'm a pathetic dork?" I try to lighten his mood by saying, "Hey, you're not pathetic, Jesse!" He chuckles, like he usually does at almost everything I say, probably nervous chuckling. He grins, muttering, "The 'dork' reference though, you didn't include that, I noticed... heh heh". I go, "That's because you know goddamn well you're not a dork; far from it. You're cool and I imagine it took a lot of guts for you to venture into strange territory like you just did. It was fun, Jesse." He says, "You're very nice to say that. You probably couldn't tell, but I was just a little bit excited about the whole deal, especially with you." I mutter, "Thanks, right back at you, but as I said earlier, you hide your emotions very well." He goes, "No I don't," and the nervous laugh again. He's not touchy-feely anymore; instead, he bites the side of his bottom lip, then goes, "Um, the kissing... the out-of-control making out with you that I did. Ah, I feel kind of awkward that I did that with you; that I did it so hungrily, and um, so enthusiastically. It was a very gay thing to do, wasn't it?" I shrug, "Do you make-out when you're going to screw a girl?" He says, "Yeah, usually, but I don't recall ever making out with anyone like I did with you. And you're the first guy I've ever kissed, so that's what concerns me; how much I got into it, I mean. Do you think maybe I'm gay, and not bi?" Another shrug from me, 'cause what do I know? I say, "Jeez, I really can't say, but I'd think it definitely verifies that you're at least bi. Wouldn't you agree?" He nods his head, muttering, "Yeah, but I already accepted that I was bi, and now I'm feeling embarrassed and troubled about the desperate way I made-out with you, but it's certainly not your problem, it's mine. I need to evaluate my emotions now that that my bisexual itch has been scratched... scratched for now anyway. I really do thank you, Dylan. You've been great. Hey, can I get you a fresh drink?" I go, "Sure, thanks." Getting up, he mutters, "What the hell..." and he gets his arm around my neck and kisses me again, saying, "It was wonderful for me, I might as well admit it and I'm talking about the kissing when I say that. I've done anal intercourse four times total, and once someone did it to me, but this time with you was the best by far. Please call me sometime in-between activities with your boyfriend. Will you take down my cell phone number?" I go, "Sure thing," and we exchange numbers, then go back outside where things are hopping just like they were twenty minutes ago. Jesse takes a deed breath, then asks, "My secret safe?" I go, "Yep, that's the way I roll." He rubs my head, saying, "Love that hair style 'cause it's almost like mine," and he's back to laughing at everything. As we're walking to the bar Jesse's girlfriend catches up with him, "Where ya been, Jesse?" she asks, but not in a challenging way. He goes, "Showing my new friend, Dylan, the house." She goes, "What a goof you are, Jesse, guys don't give a fuck about houses..," and that's all I hear as they approach the bar. I give them their privacy and light a cigarette. It's funny but the last five years or so I've noticed that girls use the F-bomb almost as much as guys, and I find that odd. Hell, maybe it's been much longer then five years, but I wasn't around a lot of girls before high school. Strictly boys in middle school, but that's pretty much true with most guys in middle school. I suppose us guys need to come up with a new curse word that girl's don't use so we can shock them with it when needed. Taking a drag off my cigarette and looking at Jesse and Babs I gotta admit that Babs is kinda cute, cheerleader perky type, and I'm sure Jesse's considered a catch in the boy/girl dynamics. They're a cute couple and probably very popular. Hell, looks-wise, Jesse would be a super catch in the gay world too. It's just that his sex technique needs a lot of work, which is totally understandable considering his inexperience. Still, I wonder if girls think he needs a lot of work in his sex technique with them too; that would be interesting to find out, although how the hell I'd ever find that out is the question. Jesse looks sexy, but isn't particularly sexy during sex, which is a bit ironic. It's hard for me to describe 'sexy' as I'm perceiving it; obviously it's a little different for everyone, but there's certain constants like body language and the eyes. Jesse has sexy very dark blue eyes, like Robby's, and he walks sexily with a very hot ass that's involved in his walk. Actually, Jesse reminds me a little of Robby when I look at him, although they have different personalities. Right now Jesse's got his touchy-feeling arm around Bab's waist, leaning his head close to hers and whispering something that she laughs at, so he probably wasn't telling her he just fucked me. Robby's sexiness is off the charts for me now, and of course that increased sexiness began when I saw him dominantly fuck Ryan. It just elevated him in my mind and I can't wait to see him tonight, especially after Jesse primed my pump a few minutes ago. Robby could fuck me exactly like Jesse did, slowly and deliberately, and I'd be spewing cum like crazy because it's Robby doing it. That's where perceived sexiness comes into play. Lately, just being in Robby's company gets me hot, and I think he's picked-up on that. Of course, Robby wasn't always as hot in sex as he is now, so maybe Jesse just needs more gay activity for him to improve in that area. For me personally, I discovered early on, way back to the days of fat Carl, that a confident sex partner is the sexiest to me. For example, even Ray's sexy in my mind because he's confident about fucking me, in his own cureless manner. He's not nearly as good looking as Jesse but there's something, I don't know what exactly... something raw about Ray's sexuality. He knows what he wants and he goes after it. Boys have often told me that I'm sexy, but I'm still not sure why that is because I don't see it in myself. Sexiness is an elusive concept as far as defining it and.... Oh, to hell with it. Chubby's right, I'm always trying to analyze everything to death. Speaking of Chubby, here he comes now. He asks, "Having fun, bro?" I go, "Yeah, how about you?" He shakes his head, then says, "I was having a good old time until that bitch Mary Jo started calling Tina and me names. Mary Jo's nuts, and there's a lot of adults here too, but she won't watch her language. A person should watch what ya say at times, but she don't get it and it's awkward. It's kinda weird being at a party with adults anyway, and I mean there are some forty and fifty year old people here. That's why the DJ's playing shit from the seventies now." I ask, "Ya wanna go?" He's like, "Either way, I'll go if you want or we can stay longer." "Let's go, I'm meeting Robby anyway." We're standing in the middle of the tent finishing our drinks as I spot a teenager who's maybe fifteen years old, he's one of the neighborhood kids I saw getting a beer when we first got here. He's now sitting in a chair with his legs crossed like the French boy in Key West crossed his legs. You know, the top leg crossed on top of the bottom leg's knee, with the foot sorta hanging right next to his other leg. It's girlie, actually. This kid's dressed like it's the middle of the summer with cargo shorts and a short sleeved Polo pullover. Jeez, really nice legs on him and he's cute in that grumpy way teens are cute. Naturally he's looking bored, which is the standard young-teen look. Another boy comes over about the same age and leans in on the boy sitting to say something quietly, while putting both his hands on the top of the seated boy's thigh. They both smile and exchange sexy looks. Something tells me these two rate gay status, but what balls they have to be exhibiting this behavior in the middle of a tent full of people. I wonder if Jesse's aware of these too, heh heh. The standing boy has a flattop haircut that's just been cut so it crisp looking; nice light brown hair and it's a full head of hair with no scalp showing in between the hairs. The two boys whisper something as the standing boy rubs the thigh of the other, which my dick somehow observes from it's hiding place in my jockey shorts and it stirs in my pants. Damn lucky kids! I mean because they know who they are and what they want at an early age. The opposite of Jesse because these two are living their dream, or I imagine they are from their body language. Now the standing boy has both hands on the sitting boy's shoulder leaning over girlie-boy's oddly crossed leg with his own leg rubbing against the leg of boy in the chair. It's so fucking obvious I look around to see if anyone is watching them, but it appears I'm the only observant one here. Of course, I've been a accomplished boy watcher ever since fat Carl brought me out as a gay boy. The flattop boy rubs the hair of the sitting boy, then pulls the hair up to it's full length of at least six inches, and shakes his head slowly, like he's saying, 'This is way too long'. Flattop then uses the fingers of his other hand to imitate cutting the sitting boy's hair near the scalp, and sitting boy nods his head and casually rubs flattops crotch. Jesus! They're hot! Flattop ruffles the other's long hair saying something that long-hair nods his head in agreement at, then flattop stand up and pulls a pack of Marlboro reds from his pocket and they both light cigarettes, while staring into each other's eyes. Where the hell are their parents? Long hair uncrosses his legs, then switches the top one so that now it's the bottom one, still with that strange way of crossing legs. Flattop rubs long-hair's thigh, then kneels down with his cigarette between his teeth and rubs the calf of the top crossed leg while long hair takes in a big lungful of air and rubs his fingers through flattop's hair. Do they think they're in their bedroom, fer chrissakes? Flattop laughs, then says something and then both stand up and wander off until I lose them in the crowd. Wish I could follow them. I look at Chubby and he's looking at me. I go, "What?" Chubby grins, saying, "Oh nothing, I was just watching you watching him." I ask, "Who?" He laughs, shakes his head a little, and asks, "Is Robby out with the other kid tonight?" I say, "Ryan? Yeah, he was this afternoon, but he's at dinner with his parents now." Jesse calls over, "Jeff, do you and Dylan want to get in on a drinking game of categories?" Chubby goes, "We gotta take off, Jesse. Great party, except ya need a bouncer. Some of the girls are out of control." Jesse laughs, muttering, "Yeah, I think I know the one you're referring to. She hates your guts, dude." Chubby chuckles, "I guess I can't win 'em all." Jesse knows I'm meeting Robby because I told him, so he doesn't argue that we should stay longer; instead he says, "Nice meeting you, Dylan. Give me a call about those Red Sox tickets, okay?" I go, "You bet, Jesse. Nice meeting you too, dude." And we do the one arm hug, with Jesse whispering in my ear, "You rock! Call me, okay?" I go, "Sure, see ya later." Then Chubby and me make it out to the street without running into Mary Jo again. He yawns a few times as I carefully drive us home. I'm not drunk per se, but I am according to the law which is all that counts, so I'm driving carefully. It's important you don't drive too carefully though, because that also attracts the attention of the police hiding in their squad cars dozing off and waiting for a teen driver to do anything wrong so they can turn on their sirens and the fifty flashing blue lights on their cruiser to come roaring down the road creating a much more dangerous situation than the one the poor teen created by not coming to a complete stop at a stop sign, or drifted over the speed limit a little. Police love to pick on teens, especially teen boys. I manage to outsmart them this time and park the Jeep in our garage without incurring their wrath. We get out of the Jeep, then Chubby says, "You gotta keep this a secret, Dylan!" I'm startled, "What? What is it?" He says, "Me going to bed at eleven o'clock on a Saturday night, that's what. Don't breathe a word of it to anyone." I fake seriousness, asking, "Can I tell my mom?" He goes, "Oh yeah, tell her fer sure; tell mine too!" and we chuckle going up the stairs from the finished basement into my condo. Chubby says, "Do you have Tylenol? I think I should take a couple and try to head-off any semblance of a hangover tomorrow morning". I get him a couple and he swallows them with some orange juice that I pour for him. Then we hug and I sneak a kiss in and he's off to his condo, up the outside steps. I get ready for Robby by taking a five minute shower and changing into clean sweat pants and sweatshirt. I meticulously clean the lube from my ass that slid off Jesse's condom and get clean jockey underwear. When I don't wear underwear Robby's cum drools from my rectum right through the sweatpants and it's embarrassing if someone notices it. I'm a little under the influence of the adult beverages from front loading before the dinner with Chubby and the couple I had at the party, so I'm not very much under the influence when all things are considered. At least I don't think I am; it's hard to tell about yourself. Checking myself in the mirror, I'm looking pretty good. Then I think of the half-a-fuck Jesse gave me; categorizing it as, at best, sort of a tune-up for Robby. It felt good, but wasn't very arousing. It'll be different with Robby. I squeeze my dick realizing I'm getting the same squirming feeling about Robby that I used to only get when sexy Willie was real dominant; and Robby's not even all that dominant with me. That's where love comes in. I'm in love with Robby, so he doesn't need to be particularly dominant to get me squirming with anticipation, although his efforts towards dominance helps too. Everything he does between him and Ryan is apparently encouraging Robby to be more bossy with me too, but it's not a problem because I kinda like it for the most part. Robby's got a cute sort of way with his dominance and I see that developing a bit in the future too, as long as he keeps practicing it with Ryan that is. Well, I'm not giving Robby up so he can be pretty much be however he wants to be as far as I'm concerned; as dominant as he can manage or as little. Damn! I grope myself again. Robby's really in my head and I'm so hot for him it's a little stupid, but there it is just the same. Hope he's hot for me, and then I wonder if he fucked Ryan this afternoon, concluding he probably did Hearing a horn beep and recognizing it as Robby's pickup's horn, I dash outside and down the steps. Robby's watching me from the driver's side window with a nice smile on his face. That's a good sign. When I reach the pickup, without thinking, I do what I often do with Willie, I go right up to Robby and reach in through the open window to squeeze his face between my hands and kiss him, going, "Mmmmm," then break the kiss with a semi-boner in my pants, saying, "You're so hot to me, Robby! I love you so much and I'm so glad to see you." Then I tell him, "I got a boner in my pants just seeing you and kissing you." He says, "Wow! I gotta say, Dylan, you are making me very happy lately, even more than before. I've dreamed of you loving me like I've loved you, like for... well, for as long as I can remember. Now get your ass in the pickup." Oh my God, and as I run around the pickup to get in the passenger side I'm thinking how awesome Robby sounded when saying, 'Now get your ass in the pickup. 'Oh man, Robby's really taking it up a notch. I just hope, no nit hope, I'm going to go with the assumption it's genuine and he doesn't need to think through everything before saying or doing it. It's great having a confident boyfriend, it makes me feel, I don't know... maybe it makes me feel taken care of, or maybe it's like I don't need to worry about anything because my boyfriend knows exactly what's up. Chubby always seems to know what's up, but me personally, I'm usually worried that someone's feelings might get hurt, or if I suggest this or that maybe my friend or my boyfriend doesn't want to do that. All I'm saying is, if someone else decides what we'll do, I'm off the hook. Oh, I don't fuckin' know really, it's just better for me when someone I love is deciding what he wants and I'll just go along with it. Hell, I'm flexible and I don't really care what we do if I'm with someone special, I'm just happy to be with him. Of course, if he wants to do something I really object to I'll tell him. I'm not wimpy, I'm just not confrontational. When I'm with casual friends, all bets are off, then I'm opinionated and contentious. With Willie I go along with his program, not because I necessarily love him like my true love for Robby, because I most certainly don't. No, I love Willie as a friend because of our history together, I'm loyal like that! Plus, I love Willie's kind of dominant sex, so that's the love part right there. There isn't a long range life span to Willie's dominant ways with me of course, but in short bursts Willie's a blast. Getting in Robby's pickup I slide over on the bench seat next to him, and ask, "Do you want to put your arm around me while you're driving?" He laughs, and goes, "What is this, a nineteen sixties' movie? Hahaha. You are so funny, Dylan, and I smell liquor on your breath so that's probably why you want me to drive with you plastered against me," and he kisses me, after which I say, "No, I'm not even a little drunk, I didn't drink very much," and I give him a brief description of Chubby's and my night, then Robby mutters, "No problem, just saying I smelled some booze. Wish we had some ourselves, actually. Now put your seat belt on so we can get going." And as I'm sliding back to the shotgun seat to do just that, my hand hits a damp spot on the seat. I ask, "What'd ya spill on the seat, Robby? Or more likely, Ryan spilled something over here," and then I know what it is; it's what's left of his cum after Robby fucked him. Robby pulls away from the curb, saying, "Oh, that's what's left of your twin's climax. I fucked him in here around five o'clock this afternoon to hold him over 'cause I won't see him until sometime Monday and I'm going to try my best to be equal with both you twins. I can't believe it's still wet? He wiped it up with tissues the same way you do." I go, "Maybe it's not Ryan's cum, but your cum that drooled out of his ass." He shrugs, mumbling, "What difference does it make?" The way Robby just came right out and told me he fucked Ryan in 'our' personal pickup-for-fucking almost put me in a trance; the kind Willie puts me in at times, and I grope my dick, whining, "You said you weren't doing any sex with him this afternoon." Robby goes, "I'm sorry, Dylan... I wasn't planning on it, but he got so amorous, and me fucking him means so much to Ryan... I just gave in. But, that was seven hours ago, I have plenty left for you my true love boyfriend. I'm gonna get used to this and be better, but it's so new, ya know?"" I ask, "Amorous? You never say amorous." He shrugs, in a down mood now, and says, "Yeah, I guess you're right, Dylan! That must be one of Ryan's word. He says it a lot, I think he's a romantic at heart or something." And I'm not? Plus, Robby snuck in that quicky on Ryan last night. But I don't say anything, although I'm steaming inside. A minute of staring at Robby, with him looking gloom, then I need to say something. "I'm not throwing this in your face, but you went back on your word two days in a row. Last night and this afternoon. How do you think that makes me feel? You think I don't have feelings and so can treat me anyway you want, 'cause I'm not going to stand for much more. I've done everything you've asked me to do and for the most part I'm good with it, but if I can't believe what you say, what kind of relationship is that?" He doing shrugging and squirming, then he looks over, and goes, "You're right. I'm letting you down and myself too. It's not the way I want to be, but I've never had a boyfriend who throws himself at my feet and doesn't hesitate to beg or grovel for my attention. I've got to get better, and I will. For instance, when we were done I was quiet 'cause I felt guilty. After a bit Ryan asked me what's wrong and I told me I'm being untrue and unfair to you, who I love like life itself. He said that makes him sad and I thought he meant it made him sad that I love you so much, but he added that it makes him feel bad too that I'm lying and being unfair to you. He asked me to please tell him when he's nagging me for it if that mean's I'll need to break a promise to you because he'd rather wait for a time I'm not breaking a promise, and he'll stop nagging for it." I go, "Really?" Robby looks over again, saying, "Yeah, honest. But that doesn't detract from the fact I lied to you, it showed me another side of Ryan though. He really likes you and he more or less reprimanded me for breaking my promises to you, whether he knows he did it or not; I took it as a reprimand anyway 'cause it seemed like he'll be the one to help me keep my promises to you if I can't. So I feel like a shit because I am one. Now if I promise you something there's no reason for you to believe it, but I'm going to earn your trust back and I think I lost some of Ryan's respect too so I'm thinking about that as well. I've lost both your trust and I'm not expecting you to have any sympathy for me from what I'm saying; I'm just telling you you're gonna see a new me that both of you can trust from here on out. I learn a lesson. I was getting a big head from having two awesome boyfriends like you guys. So I'm really sorry again, Dylan, and I'm sick and tired of being sorry about my behavior, so I'm going to stop doing things that make we need to say I'm sorry." Wow, that's the longest speech I ever heard from Robby; even longer than his rant against me the other day. I say, "I believe you, Robby 'cause I've known you too long and too well to think you'd be the type to talk out of both sides of your mouth. We all makes mistakes." He nods and mutters, "Thanks for understanding, but I'm serious about being a better boyfriend to both of you, but especially to you. You'll see the difference." I wonder if he means he's dropping the dominance, such as it is, and going back to seeking my approval of everything. If he's keeping both us boyfriends I at least he keeps the dominant stuff he's managed to achieve from having two boyfriends too. I hesitantly ask, "Um, you're gonna stay in-charhe, aren't you?" That's better than using 'dominant'. He looks at me with a grin asking, "Do you want me too?" I nod my head, with my own grin, saying, "Kinda, yeah. I think you're hotter that way to be honest. Not that you weren't already pretty hot." He says, "Thanks, I want to keep you happy most of all and, coincidentally Ryan likes being dominated in sex maybe maybe even too much, so I wanna keep it up. You've been absolutely awesome, Dylan, and I'm kinda liking doing it with you two. There's really something in it that gives me confidence, even with you, which I never had a lot of before, heh heh. But you already knew that I guess. I go No, not at all. We're doing pretty dame good everything considered. Let's keep at it until we're not doing pretty damn good and then we'll chage to something that is pretty damn good." He laughs, "You're a flexible boy, ain't cha?" I go, "Yep, that's me flexible Dylan." We're back in good moods and so what the hell, morbid curiosity makes me ask, and I'm a little pissed at myself even as I ask it, "Robby, um, do ya mind telling me how you my twin did it this afternoon?" He looks over, "You really want me to describe it, Dylan?" I shrug, muttering, "Not if you don't want to," he says, "Jeezs, I have no secrets from you anymore, Dylan. Whatever you want to know I'll be totally honest with you, and from now on you can believe me totally about that. I've only actually misrepresented myself twice, and one time I was drunk, but that's no excuse. Anyway, um, Ryan and I don't really do much lover's sex, like you and me do quite often. He's more into recreational stuff; uber hot buddy sex, more than anything. This afternoon he got his usual spanking; that's how he gets his boner most of the time. And then, heh heh, he asked me to squeeze his nuts through the entire fuck; not consistently, just squeeze and let go, then thirty seconds or so later another squeeze... like that." I ask, "Is he a masochist?" Robby thinks about it, and goes, "Gee, that's kind of a nasty word, but I guess he qualifies as masochistic during sex, but he has what he calls a 'safe word' that if he says it I'm suppose to stop, and I will of course." I go, "Never heard of that... a safe word. What's the word?" Robby says, "It's 'safe word', hahaha. Not too original, I guess, but I agree with you, Dylan, I never heard of it either. He's never used it though, mostly because I'm not interested in really hurting him, and certainly I don't want to hurt you, ever! God forbid! Like I told you, I didn't like doing that last 'stand-up' fuck with you because you're not as tough... no, I don't mean as tough, I mean you're not used to it like Ryan is." I go, "I'm not as stupid either." Robby's like, "Yeah, but you like what you like, and I've never called you stupid because of it. Everyone is different; or some people are different, that's a better way of putting it. Ryan likes it rough and I get a kick out of it because he gets off so hard when I'm rough with him. His orgasms are very demonstrative, ya know?" I go, "Not really. Did he have a sex partner before you?" "Well," Then Robby hesitates, before saying, "I want to be totally honest with you, Dylan, but I don't know about revealing his personal life. He should be the one to do that, if he wants to." I mutter, "No, don't reveal any secrets you have between you and my twin boyfriend." Robby's like, "Aw, come on, Dylan, I don't really think of you and Ryan as my twin boyfriends. I said that because you always refer to Ryan and you as my twin boyfriends; you started it. Anyway, I love you, you're my lover, Ryan's my boyfriend on the side and while I love him in a way, it's nothing like our true love." Robby saying that keeps me from a childish pout, and I go, "I was kidding about the secrets anyway. I asked if he had dominant boyfriend before because it seems strange Ryan would just decide he likes pain with sex overnight, that's all." Robby says, "Without giving his personal details away, Ryan has had two other sex partners who took things further than I'm willing to go. fer sure. That's all I'll say about it, but if you ask him, he'll tell you. He really likes you, like I knew he would. I mean, who wouldn't like you?" I utter, "More people than you realize, but okay, I'll ask him sometime without mentioning you told me the stuff you just said. Okay?" He pulls the pickup into the Loop parking lot near the movie complex, saying, "You can tell him what I told you; I have the same honesty policy with him that I have with you. It's nice not keeping secrets from either of you. I've enough secrets I'm keeping from others to keep me busy pondering those." He's referring to his parents and guys who he hasn't told he's gay yet, like the baseball team. As we drive around back to hide the pickup among the tractor trailers, I ask, "Can you tell me about the fuck you had with Ryan?" He goes, "Yeah, but I basically already told ya what we did. He got naked and I spanked him hard, then he laid on the seat with his hips lifted off the seat about six inches, and I fucked him while holding his nuts in my fist, squishing them a couple of times a minute. Not really hard crunches, but he howled with each one, then moaned with pleasure." Robby gets the giggles now and I almost giggle with him. He goes, "It's kind of funny in a perverted way, but he's got a tight rectum and that, plus his demonstrative show of sexual arousal gets me pretty damn hot, and it's sexy for both of us. It's like it gets me turned on from seeing how hot and aroused I make him feel; as if I'm doing him this great favor. Oh, I don't know... it's very different than I've experienced before and it's hard to ignore how he's, I don't know, how he sort of worships the ground I walk on. It's like that. You should know how I feel, Dylan, 'cause I acted around you like Ryan acts around me; and I was like that with you for the longest time too." Meaning, I wonder, he doesn't feel like that now? Or am I latching onto the worst case scenario again? I've lost a lot of my confidence about where I stand with Robby, and I'm not sure how much he loves me anymore even though he proclaims deep love, so I can't help but pathetically fish for a compliment, asking, "I guess it's more fun fucking Ryan than me now, right? And I understand if it is because, like you said, it's different and new and fresh." Robby parks the pickup abruptly, turns to be, and sincerely says, "Nothing could be further from the truth, Dylan! I guess trying to be totally forthright and honest about everything can leave the wrong impression the times I don't express myself properly. You are my true love who I adore having sex with; I love having sex with you beyond description." He thinks for a second, and because I want to hear more of this sort of thing, I don't say anything to distract him. He looks at me, wetting his lips, then takes my hand and holds it between both of his, saying, "There's no comparison, Dylan. If you tell me right now to drop Ryan, while I'd be disappointed because I'm having fun with two boyfriends, I'll do it tomorrow. You've always been my true love and that was so even long before I became your true love. It's just that I'm always trying so hard to please you that this time it led me to thinking that by practicing being a dominant sex partner with Ryan, it might help me be that way with you. And, you know, you've said you'd like it if I were like that. You've been telling me that for the last eighteen months and I'm trying to please you, as usual. Anyway, in the process I find myself hooked on Ryan and I'm having a damn good time being dominant with him, probably because he loves being submissive to me more than I can imagine you ever would, and for the time being the novelty of it turns me on. And, I don't even want you to be submissive to me; not like Ryan, because then you wouldn't be the boy I love. Having sex with Ryan can't hold a candle to having sex with you, and any love I have for him can't begin to compare to the depths of my love for you. Just say the word and I'll let Ryan down as easy as I know how, but I will drop him." Hmmm, that's what Robby has wanted all along, I suspect. He's a clever lad alright. He's getting me to be the one who insists we go totally steady, without any exceptions. Damn! Still, I'm so hot for him lately it's crazy and some of it's because he has a second boyfriend now, and so I gotta admit he's got me pretty much where he wants me at the moment. I truly love him and my dick is almost hard just looking at him and listening to him, and feeling his hands on mine. He's basically described how I've painted myself in a corner here. Not in those exact words, but that's what his words mean. Being sincere, as well as a little self-serving, I say, "That's so sweet of you, Robby, but I don't want to deprive you of having fun, and you've put my worries to rest now anyway. I'm jealous as hell about Ryan, but I like him too. I'd like him better if he weren't your other boyfriend, but it is what it is and I accept it. You and me are basically trusting our love for each other by alley-catting around for a couple of months, right? That's what it boils down too." Robby wets his lips again, making my dick move 'cause he's got the sexiest mouth I've ever seen, then he says, "I didn't think of it that way because I've no doubt about my love for you, and I'd stop doing anything that jeopardizes your love for me. I'm not throwing this in your face when I remind you that we're following your plan for the summer." Ah ha, it was my plan, but Robby beat me to it, and the reason for that is Ryan. I go, "Um, I don't want to contradict you, but you're the one who brought the loosening um, of our relationship to include some buddy sex on the side. Do you remember?" He nods his head, and goes, "Yeah, this time, but I was just suggesting we try an open relationship like you suggested before. Before I wanted us to try going steady." A technicality, but why argue. I say, "Oh, as long as you still love me like you used to, I'm all in with whatever you want." He laughs, "You keep insisting it's what I want, when you know damn well I want an exclusive relationship with you from this moment on until the end of time. That's my ideal dream, but you're not ready to stop alley-catting around, are you?" There he goes with that fucking logic again, oh well, he can have Ryan for a while longer because I can't stop alley-catting around. He's got me cornered again. I grin, but drop my eyes, to mutter quietly, "I guess not." Robby lifts my chin with his forefinger so I'm looking him in the eyes, and again ask, "Can you?" to drill it into my head, I suppose. I shake my head once, then say, "Just for the summer, okay, Robby?" He smiles and says, "Sure, Dylan. You always get what you want anyway, but it never makes me wish I didn't love you. I love loving you even though you're a bad, bad boy at times. Maybe that's even part of the reason I love you so much; other boys can borrow you for awhile, but lately you've convinced me that I'm your true love." I do a shy grin because he says I won, but he's the one who won this lopsided discussion and we both know it. I go, "Do I get a spanking for being a bad boy?" He squeezes my hand, in victory probably, and asks, "Whaddaya think?" I mutter, "Ow..." and he leans over for a kiss and as I acknowledge to myself that Robby's totally put me in my place again, it almost brings on my little-boy trance, but not quite because Robby's too sweet about it and he doesn't rub in his obvious victory of our latest battle of wits. Robby didn't bring on that strange sensation to me, but he's reaffirmed who's in charge and it's definitely him because I don't have the willpower, or the desire if I'm honest with myself, to give up the other boys and I'm liking his current version of 'in-charge' too. Robby says, "Okay, that was an awesome discussion, Dylan. Now you know my love for you isn't challenged even a little by Ryan, and we agree we both prefer to use the summer to alley-cat around in, me with Ryan and you with the entire cute gay population a any number of towns, and we can do it without a guilty conscience. Is that what you concluded from our conversation?" I nod my head, muttering, "Yes, that's it exactly, plus we've established who's in charge, and it's you." Robby goes, "Yep, it is. Now, my first in-charge act of the night is to say, it's time for a cigarette. Too bad we don't have Champaign to toast our accord." I go, "Accord? Where you coming up with these off-the-wall words lately?" He goes, "I'm picking them up from Ryan, he has an odd vocabulary. I think he's trying to appear smart to impress me; it's kinda cute actually. Let hop out of the pick-up and have a cigarette." That's what we do with me telling myself, 'Ya coulda done without that last question dummy! It got Robby mentioning that Ryan's cute.' We light our cigarettes and Robby gets his arm around my neck, like he does with Ryan, and Willie does with me too, and pulls my head over to kiss my forehead, muttering, "I love that you were so reasonable during our talk and I really appreciate you accepting that one of us needs to be the honcho in our relationship. You don't want to be, and now I like being in charge, like I told you earlier, so it's a perfect fit." I go, "Uh huh," and Robby says, "Getting the feel of totally being in charge of Ryan's and my relationship sorta came naturally to me. You know, like you always said: I'm a take charge guy on the baseball diamond so why not in my sex life too. You're right again, Dylan," and another kiss, but on my cheek this time. It's getting a little tiresome having all my past recommendations used by Robby to bolster his own position regarding his take-charge attitude, and even his second boyfriend. But I like it too; that he's taking charge, I mean, and not that I like he's using my early rationalizations against me. Damn, Robby definitely turned the tables on me and I admit I have to admire him for it. Also, I should be used to it by now 'cause it's happened to me a couple of times before; Chubby and Willie come to mind, and maybe even Ray too. Damn! Ha ha, Robby rocks! Can't wait to see how he dominants my ass in the pick-up tonight. He's awesome actually. I look up and he's staring at me with a look in his eyes I don't recognize. to be continued Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com Please consider a tax deductible donation to nonprofit Nifty so they can cover expenses and stay as a free story site. Thank you.