Date: Fri, 9 Oct 2015 11:32:44 -0400 From: MGTBILL@aol.com Subject: DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION Chapter 19 DYLAN'S GEORGIA VACATION Chapter 19 by Donny Mumford After an interesting weekend I wake up Monday morning ready for my second week at work. And, as usual, I'm ready to go before Ryan, so I'm sitting here in his desk chair watching him get dressed. We're both in good spirits feeling well rested and I'm pretty sure we're both happy about our sex lives. I know I am. Tying his sneakers, Ryan says, "Eventful weekend, wouldn't you say?" I nod, "Yes, it was," and he asks, "What do you imagine was my favorite part?" I say, "Could it be me telling you I'm in love with you?" He says, "Bingo, we got bingo!" Ready to go now, he takes my hand and as we're going downstairs he's grinning, saying, "I believe I predicted you'd fall in love with me, didn't I?" I say, "Yep, but ya know, people in love don't need to talk about it constantly. It's enough they're in love and know it. Plus, when you bring up the 'L' word I always feel the need to add, I'm in love with you, but Robby's got a big lead in my heart of hearts. Plus, gloating isn't an admirable personality trait... just saying." He ignores all that, asking, "Do I talk about 'love' too much?" I go, "Just a little," and he says, "Fuck it! I like talking about it." In the kitchen we work together making our lunches. No more free lunches in the main dining hall. Today we're going with basic ham and cheese on Kaiser rolls with spicy mustard, one and a half sandwiches each. Also a regular size bag of potato chips that we'll share, and chocolate chip cookies. We'll buy our beverage from the vending machine. In the kitchen now, we make take-out cups of coffee and go outside with them to put our lunch in the car. After that we're drinking our coffees and smoking cigarettes walking to the gazebo. It's a nice place to sit outside and enjoy another beautiful morning. Ryan can't get off the topic of love, saying, "The reason I knew you'd fall in love with me for real is you'd almost been in love with me earlier this year, and then a time or two before that, you know, during that volcanic period when we could not get enough of each other and I was fucking you all over the place, in the foyer of my house and every other fucking place." I go, "Including the back of the truck going between jobs." We laugh, then he goes, "Remember how submissive you were to me in those days?" I say, 'Yes I do, but as I've already said, gloating isn't one of your finer qualities." He laughs, "I don't care, I'm thrilled and I can't pretend I'm not. I could try being cool about it and pretend I'm taking it for granted, but I can't do that because I want to smile and laugh and be happy about it." I go, "Just so you know, I was never in love with you in our out-of-control sex days. I was infatuated for sure, and in love with the sex." He says, "Oh man, I could have taken advantage of you so badly back then. You'd do anything I told you, anything I felt like doing. To this day you don't realize the power I had over you, especially if I'd have turned into one of those sex perverts like the ones who abused me over the years." I'm rubbing my face, "Well, that's your story and you're sticking to it, but the reality is quite different." He says, "You just don't know, but that's okay 'cause this is better anyway." I take a deep drag off my cigarette, and roll my eyes as I exhale. I should never have told him I'm in love with him because I'm not at all sure that I am. It's just that he's so sexy I get carried away and it's hard to take back words once they've been said. It's harder than putting toothpaste back in the tube once you squeeze it out. Not that I can think of a reason anyone would want to do that. Ryan leans over to look at me, face to face, "Aren't you happy too?" Avoiding a direct answer, I go, "Where's my dominant boyfriend this morning. You've been trying to get me to confirm I'm in love with you all morning, and I suppose wanting me to gush about it. It's like maybe you don't have your normal confidence working for you today." He goes, "Yeah, of course I'd like you gushing over me and telling me how much you love me, and why not? You're the first boy who's ever loved me, and you're not just any guy, you're the uber popular, um, Dylan Newman." Really? Dropping my cigarette butt in the big decorative vase we use for our ashtray, then, smelling the back of my hand, I'm looking at Ryan feeling that squirmy sexy buzzing in my belly again. I can't deny that he's a huge sexual turn-on to me. Ya know, it's likely I'm again more in love with the sex we have than in love with him. Confusing, and what would be the point of me bursting his bubble now anyway. I'm like, "If you're so happy we're lovers, kiss me like you mean it," and he does. We get into a crazy hot make-out with me thinking of that time a few days ago when I was riding his boner in this exact spot. That was hot. Our sexy make-out gets us standing up and making-out like wild things, moaning in our throats, our hands all over each other. Ryan gets one of his hands inside the back of my underpants pushing his finger up my ass to smoothly rub over my prostate. His tongue's doing sexy things in my mouth, the two of us clinging together, my fingers going through his hair and it's all very sexually hot. It seems that after an extended period of having a variety of hot sex with the same guy I sometimes confuse it with being in love. A mistake I've made a couple of times going back to fat Carl when I was seventeen. Ryan's tongue continues doing sexually stimulating things in my mouth, plus the constant stimulations on my prostate gets me doing little hip humps as an orgasm approaches. Oh fuck, I know I'm a goner. Surrendering to the thrilling sensations of impending climax I become docile leaving myself in Ryan's hands. I'm reduced to moaning, my forehead on his shoulder, my hands clutching his body as he finishes me off. My body gets stiff, I moan, hump my hips and cum in my pants, "Ooooh, that felt good, Albert, mmm," then another streak of cum shoots out and I lay against him feeling weak as he rubs his hand up the back of my head making soothing sounds. A few seconds later I'm taking a long deep breath, completely relaxed now. We're basically laying against each other on our feet, then Ryan smacks my ass squishing my cum through the front of my underpants. I gasp, feeling submissive as he kisses the side of my head, saying, "Go in and change your pants now. Wait, I'll come with you and wash my hands, especially a certain finger." I murmur, "And comb your hair. Someone's messed it up." Oh man, that's the kind of shit I love. Unexpected dominant sexual behavior that overwhelms me and leads to a nice orgasm that's followed up by a smack on my ass and a confident command, 'Go in and change your pants!' That's awesome, but harmless... and it gives my fetish a little treat. Nice! His parents don't get up this early so we have no problem doing what we need to in the house, and then we jog to the car not wanting to be late for work. During the ride, with Ryan driving the speed limit, I say, "I love that kind of extemporaneous sex, Albert. I like being surprised too." He grins, "Nothing makes me happier than seeing you sexually aroused in my hands. It makes me feel really good to be able to dominantly pleasure you and satisfy your hot sex drive." I reach over and squeeze the back of his neck, saying, "Well keep it up, you're doing a hellava job of keeping me sexually satisfied. Sex with you is hard to beat." As he drives past the guard we hold up our ID badges, Ryan saying to me, "Um, after baseball practice you'll need to find something to do on your own for an hour or so. I'll be spending some time with Jeff, and yes we're going to have sex. I promised him we would, and he want's only me taking his cherry, as he put it. I'm being up front and honest with you, no sneaking around on my part, so don't pout or be angry." I ask, "Is it okay if I get jealous?" He says, "Yes, definitely. But be fair 'cause you were fucking with Tim, who happens to be the boy I've been ogling for a year, and I didn't get mad at you." I mumble, "I'm not mad," as I'm thinking maybe that extemporaneous sex this morning was to soften me up for this news. Well, fuck it, he can fuck around and I can fuck around. Huh, come to think of it, ironically it looks like this is gonna be me and Robby all over again with the side-sex. If it worked okay between my true lover and me there's no reason it can't work with my other lover. The real question is: is having two lovers workable? It would probably work for me of course, but how 'bout those two? The truth is, unless a miracle happens I'm going to break Ryan's heart some day, but I'm hoping for the miracle so I never have to do that. Maybe he'll fall in love with Jeff, or Tim, or someone else I find in Marietta who's cute, gay, and age appropriate. Always the optimist, that's me. After parking and both of us showing our ID's a couple more times we're in the little lunch room putting our lunch in the refrigerator. I ask, "Who do you think will forget to bring a lunch?" Ryan says, "Nobody, I hope," and Sam comes through the door carrying a brown-bag lunch. We all mumble 'good morning' and Sam puts his lunch in the refrigerator with ours. Sammy joins us at the coffee maker, saying, "Danny, my brothers really like their haircuts," and then he takes something out of his pocket. "We chipped-in and bought you a gift," and he hands be a little wrapped package. If I had to guess I'd say it's a pocket comb. I say, "Thank you, Sam. That's sweet," and open the package and there's a pocket comb that they all chipped in for. I do my fake cough two or three times with Ryan grinning knowing I'm doing fake coughing to keep from laughing. Sam's patting my back hard, saying, "You smoke too much." Looking at the comb, Sammy says, "In case ya didn't know, that's a Baxter tortoise pocket comb from Switzerland." I nod my head, "It's beautiful, Sam, thank you, and thank your brothers for me too. I love this comb!" He goes, "Yeah, it's not much, but a little thank you gift." I use the comb combing back through his flat top, and he goes, "This is a hell of a flat top too." Thinking about cutting all the boys' hair short yesterday gives me a partial boner. I mutter, "Thanks," one more time and give Sam a hug. He blushes, mumbling, "Put that in your pocket," which is what I do, assuming he meant the pocket comb and not my boner. Adjusting my crotch, I finish making my coffee. As Sam makes his coffee the Smith brothers come in with their lunches. We exchange, "Wassup," with the Smiths, then Ryan and I sit at our table. He says, "Just what you need, a comb," and he rubs my head to remind me I have very little hair, which further reminds me of him cutting my hair and that re-activates my partial boner. Nice! I say, "Hey, it's the thought that counts," and Josh Day sticks his head in, "Albert, bring your coffee and come with me," and off he goes. Sam sits down with me, "Major was very impressed with you, Danny. He kept asking me questions about you." I go, "He's a good kid! They all are." Oh wait, Major's the gay one. I shrug, "Um, anything specific Major wanted to know?" Sam goes, "I don't think so. All my brothers liked you. Is it okay if I bring my friend, Pot Roast, next time for a free haircut?" I'm like, "Um, what kind of name is Pot Roast?" He says, "It's a nickname." Ha ha, no shit. I say, "Is he a good friend?" and Sam says, "My best friend," so I go, "Sure, bring him along. I enjoyed giving you guys haircuts." Dog saunters in carrying a Subway foot-long sub sandwich of some kind. With a big sexy smile, he says, "Morin' mothafuckas. How'd your mothafuckan weekend go?" After putting his sub in the refrigerator he's at the coffee maker making a cup of tea. I go, "Awesome weekend, Dog, but I missed you at the baseball try-outs." He's grinning bringing his cup of tea to the table. "Ya missed me, huh? Well, it's like this my handsome honkey friend, I don't live in Marietta." I go, "Oh," and he says, "So as much as I'd have enjoyed playing some ball with y'all, I'm not eligible." I say, "You're in an especially good mood today." He goes, "Yeah, I know." "May I ask why?" and he says, "It's sexually related and therefore it's none of y'all mothafucka's business." I grin saying, "Well, at least tell us his first name," and Dog laughs. We banter about that with Sam frowning, not getting the joke. If it was a joke, 'cause I'm still holding out hope Dog's at least a flexibly bi-sexual. Sex with Dog would be awesome! The bell goes off and we saunter out to the docks to unload the truck, the one I noticed was at the loading dock when we parked the Mini. Bill Stark is on the dock with Ryan, who introduces him to us. That's apparently what Josh wanted Ryan for, to get Bill situated. We all introduce ourselves with Bill seeming very subdued compared to his outgoing personality in the pizza shop. He's no cuter this morning than he was the first time I saw him, so no eye candy for me. It takes all morning to unload that truck, or as Dog calls it, that big ass mothafuckan truck. Much larger load than the first truck last Monday and the contents fills up most of the space in front of the big room we work in, so now I know why the room is this big. It'll take us two weeks to break down and process everything we unloaded. I hear Sammy giving helpful tips to Bill. Sammy's seemingly much happier with Bill than he was with his former partner, loud mouth Aaron Black. As we're opening a carton together just before lunch, Dog says, "Y'all white boys just gained a majority." Not sure what he means for a second until I realize Ryan, Sammy, me, and now Bill are white, and the Smith brothers and Dog are not. Four versus three. I say, "I'm a fan of diversity, aren't you?" He goes, "I can take it or leave it," and I ask, "I wonder what the breakdown is, gays versus straights." He smirks, "Is that a question, mothafucka?" I shrug, "Not necessarily," and he just chuckles. Hmmm? For lunch break, Ryan tells me, "Josh gave me two chits for free lunch in the main dining room. I gotta take Bill for a lunch on the house his first day and get to know him a little bit. Feel free too share my lunch with anyone who wants it." I eat two sandwiches while Sammy and Dog share the other one of Ryan's, along with their own lunches. We all eat the potato chips and cookies. We were busy in the morning, then again after lunch, and being busy makes time fly. It takes me by surprise when the bell goes off ending work for today. The new guy, Bill, slowed Sammy down on his first day so after work Ryan needs to catch up with the part they didn't get done. I'm waiting for him while smoking a cigarette in the parking lot. The Smith brothers drive by and younger brother, Aiden, waves at me with a smile. I wonder about them. Aiden's friendly, and while Jayden's not unfriendly, he stays to himself. I'd feel uncomfortable if the three black guys ate at one table and the four whites at the other. That won't happen of course because Dog's eating with us. So my bigger concern is that Bill will also eat at our table because he's partners with Sam, and will that make the Smith brothers eating alone and maybe feeling they're not part of the team. When Ryan finishes and we're driving home I bring up the topic of the Smith brothers, and he says, "Yeah, I see what you mean. Do you think it'd be a good idea for me to eat with them sometimes?" I go, "Probably, but how 'bout tomorrow morning we pull the tables together. You make some casual comment about we're a team or some such bull shit like that." He says, "It's not bull shit actually, it's a damn good idea." I mumble, "Jesus! Do I have to think of everything?" He chuckles and does his favorite thing... he rubs my head making be think about my haircut. What he doesn't know is I'm used to it by now and I kinda like it. It gives my dick a buzz every time I think about the way Ryan gives me these haircuts. And anyway, like Jeff said, it's uniquely individualistic and there are three of us now, which is another thing I like about it. Plus, I'm looking forward to my haircut fetish kicking in next Saturday when Ryan gives Tim, Jeff, and me fresh haircuts, so it ain't all bad. Ryan's a very dominant mothafucka giving these haircuts. We change our clothes and get to the six-thirty baseball practice in plenty of time. Practices are Mondays and Wednesdays from six-thirty to seven thirty, which means we'll miss dinner those nights. Not a bad thing considering dinner time is too formal for my liking, although the food's consistently good. A week from Saturday we'll begin playing county league baseball games that count in the standings. One game every Saturday and then another one during the week. Our golf lessons are Tuesday and Thursdays so that works out just right. Golf lesson nights we're finished in time to shower and have dinner at home. Lots of stuff going on and to think I was wondering while driving to Georgia, what we'd be doing all summer. Baseball practice is fun, plus Freckles kept his mouth shut today so that makes it even better. The best part for me was hitting. Wow, I was smacking the ball to all fields. I don't hit for power but I've always been good with line drive doubles. Coach gave me a pat on the back telling me, "Good hitting, Danny," which was the first time he didn't call me 'thirteen'. He's obviously been memorizing names and matching them with our bib numbers. After practice Ryan and I go back to the house and shower, then go to dinner at a nice little restaurant in town. Mrs. W. told Ryan to treat me to a good dinner since she and Mr. W. wouldn't be home tonight. It's an Italian restaurant that's pricey, and we almost don't get seated because we don't have reservations. Reservations are apparently necessary most nights. This is what we're told at the front desk by a pretty, middle-age woman. She told us that in a very nice way, "To insure we'll have the pleasure of your company, please call for reservations. Monday night though, we can usually find you a table. The rest of the week, probably not." She has a thick Italian accent so that's what I think she said. Then she led us to a very nice little table for two. White table cloth with matching napkins. I think she says, "Your waiter will be Roberto, enjoy your meal." Or maybe she said,'enjoy your meat', but it probably was 'meal'. Roberto is dressed in black slacks, white shirt, and a black bow tie. Dark brown hair combed straight back from his forehead. He has a swarthy complexion, dark eyes and a handsome face. He's altogether one sexy young man, probably about twenty-five years old. Something like that. Thin and sexy. I'm smilingly slightly, watching him walk over and then he very formally, standing straight, does this cool little head bow, "Good evening, I'm Roberto, and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you something to drink." Ryan starts to say something, but I hold my hand up stopping him, and say, "Roberto, we'll be honest with you. We won't be twenty one, in my friend Albert's case until the beginning of July. In my case I'll be twenty-one in August. Is that close enough to have a cocktail before dinner?" He says, "May I see some identification?" We show him our drivers licenses, and he smiles this beautiful smile, "Yes, it's close enough for me, but it wouldn't be for my sister. Ask for my station when making future reservation. What would you like?" To prove I'm an experienced drinker, I order, "Very dry Bombay Sapphire martinis, straight up with an olive." he says, "Very well, and would you like to see our wine list?" I'm like, "Yes, of course," and he puts down two menus and a leather bound wine list, then does another little head bow and leaves to get our drinks. Ryan stares at me until I go, "What?" and he says, "I'm impressed, that's all, except how the fuck I'm going to drink a straight-up martini? It was smooth how you handled that though." I go, "Yeah, who knew honesty would work?" This is so weird. It's like Robby's and my Italian restaurant in Framingham with our personal waiter, Tony. He serves us cocktails too. He expects a big tip of course, as I suppose Roberto does as well. We look at our menus and Ryan says, "I don't know what the fuck a lot of these entrees and appetizers are." I go, "Neither do I except for the obvious ones. Just for the fuck of it pick an appetizer and entree you've never heard of, and I will too. This way we might learn something. We'll share our meals and see what we like for future reference." He goes, "Okay, but this shit is expensive." I go, "I'll split the cost with you." He shakes his head, "Nah, that's not necessary," and he pulls a hundred dollar bill from his pocket, adding, "This is what mother left for our dinner. She wanted me to take you someplace nice." I go, "Okay, if the bill's over a hundred bucks I'll pay the difference." He says, "We'll split anything over a hundred dollars." With that in mind we peruse the wine list which has bottles of wine that cost up to three hundred dollars, and as low as twenty-five dollars. Ryan says, "Restaurants kick-up the price two to three times market value, so the twenty-five dollar bottle of wine we could probably buy for eight dollars." I go, "I'm not drinking a eight dollar bottle of wine." We haggle about it and settle on a sixty dollar bottle of Chianti Classico with Ryan muttering, "We don't even like wine." Yeah, that's true, but it's fun playing we're big shots once in a while. Of course Roberto couldn't care less, but still... Our martinis arrive and we place our dinner orders. Ryan orders a roasted cauliflower risotto for starters and I order an artichoke gratnata, whatever the fuck that is. It would have helped if they had pictures of those dishes like there are in IHOP restaurant's menus. Anyway, for our entrees Ryan orders Fettuccine Alfredo which is noodles of some kind with chicken on the side, or mixed in with the noodles for all we know. I cheat and order chicken parmigiana with spaghetti, then I order the bottle of wine. When Roberto leaves Ryan's giving me a blank stare. I go, "I like chicken parm and we're sharing so it's wise to have one thing we know we'll like." He mutters, "Some times I wonder which one of us is actually in charge here." Huh, Robby's says that to me all the of time too. We sip our martinis and Ryan goes, "Oh my god, that's undrinkable." I go, "Don't make a 'face' when you drink it. Roberto might see you doing it." He goes, "Fuck Roberto," and I go, "Do ya think?" He shakes his head, "Nah, he's straight." Thank god there's rolls and butter on the table. Really good Italian rolls which help a great deal getting the martini down. Ryan gasps saying, 'Don't you dare order us another one of those." I go, "Ah ha, here comes our wine. We don't need another martini." Roberto pours some in my glass and stands there straight as an arrow. Really good posture and he's simply awesome. I'm not an idiot, I've seen this on TV so I know I'm supposed to smell the glass and then taste the wine, which I do. Then looking up at Roberto, I go, "Ghastly, it's corked!" then grin. Roberto and I have a little laugh together as he pours wine for me and then Ryan. The wine bottle goes in a little bucket on a little table next to ours. It's chilled wine, but not what you'd call 'cold', like a Coke from the refrigerator. Ryan taste it and says, "I think I prefer the martini," and we laugh, then see people are looking over at our table so we stop. I ask, "Are we drunk?" and Ryan shakes his head, "Nah, not from one drink, even though that was a big mothafuckan drink, huh?" We snicker at his imitation of Dog, then notice people are glancing over at us again. I whisper, "These fucking tables are too close together," and a man at the next table says, "I can still hear you," and my face gets red. Now I get what's wrong with this restaurant, there's no background music and this place is too quiet for a restaurant. I hate that! In a stage whisper I say to Ryan, "If you wanna say something... don't! Write it on your cloth napkin instead." Ryan giggles and finishes his glass of wine as the man who said, 'I can still hear you," says, "It's alright boys, you're not bothering anyone. I was kidding you. I couldn't really hear what you said." I turn around and see a grandfatherly man with a grandmotherly looking woman sharing an antipasto and a bottle of red. He smiles and quietly says, "Fuck 'em. Talk all you want." I smile as his wife bites off the top of a hot cherry pepper and chews it. Holy shit! The dinner's very good and after two glasses of wine each we couldn't care less what our fellow diners think about us. After finishing off the wine we have spumoni ice cream for dessert. It's an Italian ice cream with different colored layers: the pink layer is cherry ice cream with bits of cherries, green is pistachio, and brown is the chocolate layer. Very tasty. The bill comes to $176.00 and then $220.00 with a $44.00 tip. Roberto said, "Thank you, I'll look for you again soon." I smile and try doing his little head bow. Outside Ryan says, "I hope he doesn't look to hard for us any time soon or it might impair his vision." I go, "Yeah, that's one overpriced little Italian restaurant right there." Still, we're feeling good walking to the car hand in hand. Inside the car he starts the motor, saying, "I've never felt so good about being with anyone in my life as I feel when I'm with you, especially since we've been home. It so much fun and relaxing and I love that people look at us and think, 'That guy has the hottest, best looking boyfriend ever'." I go, "Most people don't know we're boyfriends, not in the gay sense." He says, "More people do than you realize. It's something about the way you look at me with your sexy eyes. Too bad for them because I have you, and they don't." Huh, I go, "So your proud of me like a trophy wife, is that it?" Carefully driving the Mini onto the street, he goes, "I think I'd need to be much older than you before you'd be considered my 'trophy' wife." I go, "I'll just be your regular wife, is that it?" He goes, "Oh, um, I'll never think of you as my wife, but other's might. Will that bother you?" I say, "No," but I don't tell him it doesn't bother me because I'll never be his wife, partner, significant other, or whatever they call gay couples. I'll be whatever they call Robby's partner, significant other, or whatever. As Ryan drives I'm looking at the side of his face seeing how happy and contented he seems, and it makes me feel guilty, like I'm misrepresenting myself. I say, "Um, Albert/Ryan, seriously, I'm planning on marrying Robby, ya know. I love you, um, I'm in love with you but much more so with Robby. He and I have been together a long time." He glances over, "That's okay, I know that's how you feel now. I'm not delusional, really. I'm thinking though that perhaps you might change your mind in time, that's all. We don't know what the future holds, do we?" I mutter, "I guess not, but just so you know, um...." He goes, "That's so 'you', babe. Wanting to be fair and not lead me into false expectations. Thanks, but we have almost two months more together. Who knows, you could change your mind. Right?" I shrug, "I guess anything's possible." I want to talk to Chubby so badly, but something always comes up to get in the way. I talked to him once and we text, which is cool, but I need to talk to him on the phone. Hear his voice and his advise. Ryan goes, "That dinner was way overpriced but it was really good, don't ya think?" I go, "Definitely too expensive, but very good. Who knew that cauliflower starter would be good." Ryan goes, "Or fucking artichokes!" I say, "See, we're developing sophisticated palates." Back at the house I have mixed emotions. On the one hand I kinda feel sorry for Ryan because he tries so hard and he's been wonderful about just about everything, but my heart's set on marrying Robby and that's not going to change in two months. On the other hand I find Ryan so fucking sexy I can hardly stand it, and the sex we've been having lately is off the charts. Only Ryan can do this kind of sex with me. He's by far the best sub/dom sex partner I've ever had and while his lovers sex can't really compare with Robby's, it's still awfully good. That's what I'm thinking as I sit in his bedrooms desk chair watching him get undressed. Huh, I watched him dress this morning and now I'm watching him undress... weird. In the background he's telling me how much my batting swing has improved in the batting cage. I nod by head, muttering, "Thanks," as I'm ogling his hot smallish body. Smaller than mine, but everything's in proportion and it's definitely a hot body. He looks so different without his little glasses too, and in a more mature manner with his short scraggily beard adding to his attractiveness. It's not just me, any objective person would have to agree. I pray he meets someone he adores, but for now I've got the hots for him. The thing is, I don't want to be the one who asks for sex again, but unfortunately I may need to because he's talking about getting to bed early tonight. We're not drunk, but we feel the booze which tends to smooth things out. He's in his boxer shorts, saying, "I'm going to ask Terry tomorrow. I wanna know when the hell we can go out on the golf course and actually play some golf. That's the fun part, driving the fairways and the approach shots to the green, then putting. It's cool." I follow him into his bathroom where he brushes his teeth and while rinsing out the toothpaste he hands his toothbrush to me. I add toothpaste and brush my teeth, then rinse. He's got me in the habit of brushing after dinner. Not a bad idea actually. I'm sitting in his desk chair again, stalling from saying goodnight by checking my email on his computer. He's washed and ready for bed as he comes up behind me putting a hand on each of my shoulders, asking, "What's going on?" I go, "Checking emails," and he leans closer, "Jeez, you have a lot of them," and I turn my head so my forehead brushes his chin and his skimpy whiskers. "Um, Albert, you going to bed now? We just had that big meal." He yawns, "Keeping up with you is wearing me out, babe. I'm kinda beat. Plus, all day long at work I'm like tense, worried something is going to go wrong and I'll need to tell Josh something's fucked-up." My hand goes up to cup behind his neck pulling his head next to mine. I move my cheek against his, and he asks, "Really?" and I go, "Really." He kisses my cheek saying, "Yeah, I guess me too. Sleep can wait, lets go up to your room." I stand, saying, "I didn't ask, it was mutual." He chuckles, "It's not a contest, Danny. We both like to fuck, but you did ask. You didn't use words, but you asked by inference." My arms go around the back of his neck as I rub my nose against his, murmuring, "Yeah, I asked, you're right, but it's like I can't help myself anymore, and why should I? It's what we've always done. It's our pheromones." He grins, "Oh, not that again," and covers my mouth with his for one of his special kisses that makes me want to meld into his body and let myself go. Squeezing my arms around his neck, our faces squished together, I stand and my body squirms against his. Damn, he gets me so aroused so easily. It's embarrassing but my cock's a hard bone in my pants already. Ryan ends that kiss with a smacking-lips sound, and puts his arms around my waist, "Come on, baby, upstairs we go. My boy needs a good fucking, doesn't he? Heh heh." I wish I wasn't so horny around him, but I can't make myself pretend I'm not. My swollen cock is throbbing in my pants as I nestle against his side going up the steps. On the third floor he takes over by insisting he'll undress me, and when I'm naked he fondles my hard cock and balls grinning while staring into my eyes. It's a not too subtle demonstration of who's dominant during our sex. Ryan also consistently demonstrates who needs our sex the most. That would be moi. Giving my balls a tight squeeze and holding onto them with me grunting and going up on my toes, he murmurs, as if to himself, "Shall I milk my boy's balls dry again, or fuck him slow for a long time, or maybe both?" I'm ridiculously aroused, gasping in little gulps of air standing here docilely and feeing an increasing submissive mist forming in my head. Still tightly gripping my nuts, his other hand goes to the back of my head pulling it forward to his height, his mouth covers mine again and as we fall on the bed making-out, my face feels hot. He's so good at this, so hot and sexy and he's become totally confident in handling me now with complete confidence I'll be fine with whatever he feels like doing. Oooh, I gets such a gooey feeling around my belly and groin as my anus clenches and my cock drips. Memories flood my head, memories of our frequent sex ever since leaving Merrimack, and he's so good at sex with me... and he's continuing to get better at it too. One last tight squeeze on my nuts, making my body stiffen as I grunt, and he lets go of my balls. He lays on me with the boner in his boxer shorts feeling hard against my belly. My fingers are running through his nice hair as I hug his head to mine and he kisses me with his magical tongue doing it's thing. Then he stops kissing to do long slow licks on my face that sort of hypnotize me and I stop squirming and lay still for him. It's dreamy and submissive to fantasize Ryan owning me and doing as he pleases with my body without me needing to ask for it. That thought almost causes me to climax and I grunt, then moan, "Oooh, Albert, oooh." He's got his fist between us now, around my boner and he strokes it while continuing to lick my face, lapping up the front of my nose until my nostrils are filled with his saliva and it's like I'm drowning. He grins taking his hand off my cock and reaching to the night stand for Kleenex, asking, "Remember when I used to do this with you sitting in my lap like a nine year old boy? I'd easily get you so submissive you'd kinda regress in age. Oh man, they were some crazy days, huh?" and he holds the tissues over my nose with a thumb on one side and his finger on the other, saying, "Blow hard for me, little boy." I blow my nose hard, then again clearing out his saliva leaving a peppermint toothpaste scent of it behind. He says, "Once more, blow hard," and when I do my ears block up. Ryan drops the tissues on the floor, chuckling and shaking his head slowly like he can't believe how easy this is for him. Getting off the bed he looks down at me with my boner sticking straight up, "Turn over, Danny." When I'm laying on my stomach he slides my legs off the bed and pulls me, sliding my body on the bed until I'm on my knees with only my chest and arms on the mattress. "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!' sounds ring out as he spanks my ass until it's stinging and hot. Another, "SMACK," and he says, "Only a few smacks for your spanking tonight, Daniel, and only because you like 'em," and he drops his boxer shorts. Looking back I see his fat hard boner drooping from it's own weight. Taking it in his fist Ryan strokes the foreskin on and off the head a few times and a big bubble of precum appear. He presses the wet head of his boner against my asshole, then humps his hips hard and the head disappears up my ass pushing my sphincter muscles aside like the class bully pushing the nerd out of the way in the halls of middle school. Ryan grunts, then lets out a moan of pleasure, "Ooooh." Grabbing my hips now and leaning forward that big boner steadily spreads the walls of my rectum as it makes it's way eight inches up my ass. Quietly moaning, "Ooooh, mmmm," Ryan lays against my buttocks and clamps his hand over my mouth. I'm making a loud hissing sound while exhaling and then trying to hold my breath thinking my head will explode from the pain of his quick entrance. My smacked butt cheek momentarily stung, but that only had my attention for a few seconds before my ultra stretched anus is screaming out pain, and then my whole rectum's screaming at my brain with pain, and my world is a mess of mixed signals for a long twenty seconds before things start getting sorted out. I stop hissing and settle for grunting at the reducing pain. Ryan massages my shoulders and then rubs both hands up and down my back, murmuring, "Shhh, it'll be okay in a few more seconds." It's more than a few seconds, but not more then another twenty seconds before my ass gets with the program and my anus starts feeling like a mighty itch that needs to be scratched, and that always feels soooo good. When the lips of my asshole stop complaining, I sigh at the improving conditions in general. Inside my rectum the complaining begins fizzling out as well, and all the nerve endings quiet down allowing pleasure to make a welcome appearance. Ryan's rubbing my head now continuing his soothing murmurs and the contrast between forty seconds of pain and no pain at all makes me gasp with my shoulders shuddering a tiny bit. Then my brain recognizes the arrival of sexual pleasure and it's like, "Aaaaah, mmmm," as the muscles in my body, clenched tightly against the pain, one by one loosen and then relax completely. Sooo nice now with my ass so full it's like when you're stuffed after a delicious Thanksgiving dinner, you're stuffed but feeling good. Ryan's fat hard long boner moves a inch in my rectum as he straightens up causing sizzling nerve endings to sparkle, and now it's all about pleasure and how high can the pleasure go. Pleasure signals fire off to my brain and my brain notifies my consciousness that this feels good. It happens in a nanosecond, which is to say it happens instantaneously. Less than a minute after Ryan's big hard sex organ was rammed up my ass everything is rosy with nothing but bright green lights of sexual pleasure ahead. Turning my head I give him a little smile and he gives me a big one, "Already? Wow, you're pussy is something special." He pulls his boner back and every fraction of an inch it moves backwards in my ass it sets off scintillating sparks of pleasure as millions and millions of tiny little nerve endings happily sing together the words of sexual pleasure. Back up my ass comes that big wet log momentarily interrupting the party with random nerve endings that haven't yet got the message that the pain button has been turned off, and I mutter, "Ow! Fuck!" but that's it. The renegade nerve endings get the message finally and it's happy trails from here on out. The forty seconds of discomfort are long forgotten and wiped from my memory banks, and now it's one hundred percent sexual pleasure. He begins a smooth steady fucking as we moan together in our separate world of pleasure with me getting the best of both worlds... extreme pleasure from my prostate and anus, plus my pulsating cock and balls contributing to my escalating pleasure. A penis is a pleasure tool like no other, so Ryan's happily using it for his benefit while it provides me with mountains of pleasure. "Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds along with our quiet moans and groans and it's all together near perfection. Now I don't even think of the initial hurt of penetration because anal sex this good sends waves of sexual pleasure so intense it's impossible to describe, and that's all that occupies my mind. It feels so good I can't even try to describe it to myself. It's all encompassing and nothing else matters during this five or six minutes of increasing ecstasy. I'm squirming on the bed, biting the blanket, moaning at the feelings his hard boner sliding oh so tightly up and back inside me is setting off. It's a blizzard of pleasure from untold nerve endings happy to be doing what they do best. Ryan's breathing noisily as he's driving his super sensitized hard penis in my ass and neither of us has anything else on our minds but this sex act. He's holding the top of my shoulders pulling me back sliding on the mattress a few inches as he drives his boner up my ass, then he pulls it back and does it again hard, "Slap!" his belly slams into my buttocks, his cock retreats and then a synchronized pull on my shoulders along with his thrusts and the hard head of his boner charges up my rectum again creating another, "Slap!" sound and it's, "Slap, slap, slap," and my climax builds and builds until it can't be stopped. It comes roaring on me with my body stiff again and me shaking with anticipation, then 'AAAAAH!" and out comes the semen that was packed in my nuts until it was too much for my balls to hold, so they explode sending cum sizzling up my iron cock and out onto the bed leaving me quivering and maybe entering another dimension for the briefest moment in time, then again as sensations overload my consciousness and I shudder at the explosion of pleasure that blows over me, and then too quickly begins fading leaving me shaky but content. Muscles around my groin clench hoping for one more orgasm but just late arriving drools of cum slide out of my softening cock. I'm limp as I lay on the bed with Ryan in the desperate last seconds of his own impending climax making me jealous for a second because he has his to look forwards too, and then his body's stiff, his crotch tightly against my buttocks with him doing a sort of whining moan, desperately humping against my ass, then 'Oooh, aaah, aaah, aaah," and cum fires from his cock to splash inside me. This time I don't feel it hit so it must have been a gush instead of a sharp stream. He's still frantically humping against me as I smile remembering my climax and feeling happy for Ryan that he's enjoying his. Gasps from Ryan, then he shudders, chuckles and mutters, "Oh, fuck. Ummmm, ooh, man." More thrusts, but lazy ones now before he pulls his cock from my ass making me groan, Aaah, ooh," and then it's done. So much packed into the most intense few minutes of our lives. It leaves us both with a buzzing around our groin but that fades too. It's natures tease. A sky-high piercing peak of pleasure that we can't believe happened, but we get to savor it for only a couple of seconds before it quickly fades leaving us wanting more. Leaving me wanting more anyway, and looking forward to the next time. Ryan swings my legs back up on the bed, gets on the bed pulling me up the mattress, and lays down next to me. I'm like dead weight letting him do it all himself. We're both of us on our stomachs, "Whaddaya think, Danny, was that hot?" I nod my head, "It was okay," and we both laugh contentedly while breathing in extra oxygen, our chests heaving. Then Ryan goes, "Jesus, that was awesome, but I'm beat." He puts his arm over me, "I'm gonna go down and sleep in my own bed for once. I don't want to wake up in the middle of the night to go downstairs." I mumble, "Yeah, okay, but why do you need to go down there in the middle of the night anyway?" He says, "This summer is turning out better than I ever hoped for, so I'm not taking that one-in-a-thousand chance that mother calls through my bedroom door asking me something and I'm not in bed to answer." I ask, "Does she do that often?" He gets off the bed, "It happens about twice a summer. She calls in to tell me they won't be home for dinner, or to ask me if I want to go with them to Palm Beach for the weekend, or any kind of last minute plans they've made that I might be interested in joining them. Like I said, it's unlikely, but not unheard of and if I'm not in my bed they might be able to guess where I am." I nod my head as Ryan's cleaning his cock in my bathroom. Getting up, I pad into the bathroom and he helps me wipe cum off my buttocks. We do a quick kiss goodnight and he disappears down the secret staircase. Back in bed I'm once again feeling well-fucked and can't help smiling to myself, but there's this niggling thought in a part of my brain that something's missing. No matter how hot the sex with Ryan is, and it is extremely hot, afterwards there's a gap. You know what I think it is... there's not the dreamy loving feeling I have after sex with Robby. There's definitely a kind of admiration I have for Ryan's sexual prowess that never disappoints and I crave sex with him, but I'm missing that gooey, almost corny loving sense I feel after sex with Robby. I've been wondering what that missing something is, and that's it. There's definitely a mysterious extra something after lovers sex with Robby that makes us snuggle together, almost giggling with glee, and an awesome serenity sensation follows. A peaceful sense that the world is right and true. There's that last sigh of contentment, and I only get that last sigh of contentment with Robby. Realizing that makes me smile and feel our dream is safe, Robby's and mine. Yes, our dream of life together is very much alive and well. It reinforces my contention I'm going to need to disappoint Ryan at some point. Yeah, except for the miracle. I forgot about the miracle, the one where Ryan falls in love with another and reluctantly must bid me ado. Then, thinking about how rare miracles are, I fall asleep. Tuesday and the rest of the days this week are very much like last week, but better because my comfort level is higher. We're into a routine pretty much. Ryan and I continue having excellent sex frequently, while Ryan's also fucked Jeff a couple of times without us discussing it. I've been trying to arrange another fuck with Timmy and his two inch cock, but so far nothing's worked out on that front. Brad's friendly but he hasn't texted me to arrange getting together and I wonder why. I'm continuing my practice of waiting to be invited to have sex, except with Ryan who I feel might go a week without us having sex if I didn't nag him for it. Wednesday at Bible study Tim hinted that Brads spending a lot of time with that arrogant asshole we met at the club. I don't remember his name, the older guy, but that's obviously why Brad hasn't hinted that him and I do it again. Oh yeah, the older guy's name is Ollie... hee hee, what a name! Yeah, and Brad's been neglecting Tim too because of this Ollie asshole. The golf lessons were good this week and Wednesday was the best lesson of all for me. I was finally hitting drives with some height to them which amazed Mr. Merriweather, mostly because I'm hitting consistently straight drives. Ryan hits longer drives, but he's erratic... one out of three of his drives miss the fairway. Mr. Merriweather, Terry is what Ryan calls him, promised to take us on the course next week which I'm looking forward to because hitting balls in practice, both drives and irons shots, gets boring after awhile. Same for putting on the practice green. I want to see how I do on the golf course. Baseball practice went well this week too, except for a short fist fight Thursday between Freckles and Jeff. Neither Ryan nor I were close enough to jump in and separate them, but coach was there quickly and the fight was over in thirty seconds. Freckles split Jeff's lip and Jeff tells us that the kid is really tough. He doesn't look it though. Interestingly there doesn't appear to be much affection between Jeff and Ryan, although I know they've had sex at least twice. I assume it's strictly a buddy-sex arrangement, and no love is developing as I'd hoped. I gotta get Tim and Ryan together... maybe some magic will happen between them. Friday morning I'm up even earlier than normal so I pad down the steps and ease into bed with Ryan. We had awesome sex last night as usual, and I'd like an encore. I cuddle up to him and run my fingers through his hair staring at him. He's very nice looking, sort of growing past cute into handsome. As much as I like 'cute' he looks more macho now. The back of my fingers ruffle up his cheek through his sparse beard that are so fucking sexy it's ridiculous. With my lips on his ear, I whisper, "Albert, time to get up," and he's startled. "What? Oh, baby, how ya doing this morning?" I whisper, "You look so sexy sleeping. Um, could we...?" He rustles around to get on his side, yawning, then asking, "Didn't you have your fill last night?" I'm grinning nodding my head up and down real fast, "Un huh, but pleasssse." He goes, "Sure, suck my cock and give my ass a good rimming and then I'll give you a hard fuck." And that's what we do. Afterwards I'm laying on my back absorbing all the awesome sensations fading now after getting fucked hard with an awesome climax that's sticking creamily to the sheets. Ryan smacks my ass, saying, "While I'm getting cleaned up you need to change the sheets, Danny. Do it quickly, then get yourself dressed," and another hard, "Smack!" on my ass. I yelp and hop out of bed to do what I'm told. As I'm stripping the bed I run that fuck we just had through my mind. I can't get enough actually. Ryan's big cock fits my ass perfectly by now and he fucks as good or better than anybody. A normal day Friday and then after work the pay checks are passed out. Another $575 for me. Saturday morning at a Publix grocery store, they spell it 'Publix' for some reason, there's a Bank Of America branch there that's open Saturdays and we're going to open a debit account for me. I'll deposit both checks and get a debit card. I'm flush with cash, heh heh. Tonight Ryan's neighbors are having a cookout and his mother informed Ryan his presence is mandatory. Ryan rolled his eyes when he heard that, but he informs me if he has to go, that means so do I. He's the boss so I just shrug. Then tomorrow after I open a bank account Ryan will do haircuts for Jeff, Tim, and me. That'll be at eleven o'clock and will officially end my first two full weeks in Marietta. In some ways it seems to me the two weeks has been like two months and it other ways it seems to have flown by quickly. Funny how that works. A lot has changed in two weeks and a lot has remained the same. I'm kinda looking forward to the coming weeks here and not solely because of Ryan's awesome sex. It's fun learning to play golf, and being on the baseball team is fun too. This summer with Ryan is turning out better than I imagined by a long shot. Then I've got something else to look forward to: a week in Wildwood for a real vacation and after that four weeks working for Robby. This is looking like a very different but very good summer vacation for me. I'm missing my love ones back home, but I'm pleased with myself at how well I'm handling this very different experience. I know I've made a significant change for the better in Ryan's life by helping get him out of his shell and into a more normal relationship with his peers in Marietta. As for the happenings back home, the most notable one was Danny Monday quitting his job with Robby and then moving back home. They'll be a new guy on the crew for me to meet, and who knows what that might entail. Probably nothing, but I'll see. I know the others guys on the landscaping crew very, very well and it'll be awesome reconnecting with them all. In the meantime Ryan and I have just driven up to the garage at the house after work. We get out of the car and he rubs my head, mumbling, "Your hair has a fuzzy feel, babe, but I'll take care of that tomorrow morning. Now we need to shower right away, then join the cookout already in progress. I'm glad you'll be with me dealing with the twins over there." He takes my hand, asking, "Why so quiet?" and I go, "I don't know, um, do you think you could, you know, before we shower?" he says, "Could you be a little more specific?" We walk in the side door as I go, "Um, I'm thinking a quickie will do us both..." to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com donnymumford@outlook.com ======================================================== Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for next to nothing. (Or buy the 'print' version.) The books are under ten dollars. They are about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank you. Donny Mumford ============================================ Please consider a tax deductible donation of any size to nonprofit Nifty to help with the expense of maintaining this ginormous free story site. Thank you very much. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html