Date: Fri, 13 Apr 2018 22:23:51 -0400
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR SUMMER     Chapter 32

DYLAN'S SUMMER FOLLOWING HIS COLLEGE JUNIOR YEAR

Chapter 32

by Donny Mumford


The Fourth of July is a national holiday in America. It's a day of
concerts, parades, fireworks, and cookouts. That's how most of us celebrate
America's Second Continental Congress' adoption of the Declaration of
Independence proclaiming independence from Great Britain and its
king. America... a new nation now: The United States of America. Yeah, a
ballsy move back then and one that wasn't well received by the British
obviously. Great Britain being the richest country in the world at the time
was able to buy German mercenaries to bolster their standing Army of about
45,000 who, unfortunately for Britain, were thinly dispersed globally. The
need to war against the colonies must have been a ginormous pain in the ass
for them and, of course Britain and France never got along all that well so
France gleefully jumped into the war on America's side and that, plus a lot
of other factors, resulted in Britain finally saying, "Oh fuck it, we're
sick of this...' after an eight-year-war known in America as the
Revolutionary War, or the War of Independence.

So yeah, that's pretty much the story although none of it was mentioned,
not a single word of it by anybody during Rob's and my visits to two
separate cookouts celebrating that Fourth of July of over two-hundred years
ago. Instead of bringing-up the history of this holiday we mostly heard,
'Help yourself to beers, guys' or 'Who wants another hot dog?' and stuff
like that...

Right now, Rob's parking his pickup at the closest available parking spot
to Hayden's next-door neighbor's house. That's our destination for what
will be our third cookout of the afternoon. Walking back to the cookout, an
affair neither of us is especially excited about, we share a
cigarette. Exhaling smoke Rob looks at me as he mutters, "Let's not stay
long. Hell, I actually wish we could skip this cookout entirely except we
don't want to hurt Danny's feelings by blowing it off." I'm like, "Rob,
it's much more Hayden's cookout than Danny's. We'd be dissing Hayden more
than Danny." He snorts out a chuckle, muttering, "Fuck Hayden," and I go,
"Rob! Hayden's a good guy!" He shrugs and steps on the cigarette butt as we
walk down Hayden's driveway looking over at the cookout in his neighbor's
backyard. The cookout covers the next two backyards actually and the
backyards are deep.

After seeing the size of this cookout we're like, 'What the fuck?' This is
by far the largest cookout I've ever been to. There are more people here
than were at the last two cookouts combined and there's a lot more activity
going on here too. Everyone we see is a stranger to us of course, so we
hesitate standing here in Hayden's driveway gawking at everything that's
going on as we desperately look for Danny or Hayden. Hell, I'd even settle
for seeing Hayden's mother, Tinker, or her huge boyfriend, Ralph.

Not seeing anyone we know, we shrug at each other. Resigned to doing this
we begin walking across the neighbor's driveway into their backyard. Right
away we're getting a few quizzical glances from strangers although,
luckily, they quickly turn back to minding their own business. Huh, it
occurs to me that a lot of these people don't know each other either. They
know who invited them obviously and probably some others, but there are two
families of relative and friends joining in this one big cookout so Rob and
I aren't the only strangers here, not that makes me feel any more
comfortable.

At the far end of the backyards there are nets set-up for a badminton game,
which is being played in one yard, and a volleyball game being played in
the next. The players are a mixture of kids and adults, all of them very
vocal. Music joins the loud voices and the music is again from the
'nineties' indicating parental-types are in charge of that. In the second
yard there's also a Ping-Pong table set-up near the garage and a game is
being played there too, plus there are six adult men, some shirtless and
some with prodigious pot-bellies sitting around one of the two picnic
tables playing poker for money. Lots of loud conversations all over both
backyards with everyone drinking, eating, or game-playing... like I said,
there's a lot of activity going on here. This is a cookout on steroids!

All this activity is good though; I mean as far as I'm concerned because
Rob and I aren't attracting much attention, or to put it another way nobody
seems to give a shit if we join the fracas or not. Aside from the games
being played there are many people sitting in beach-type chairs forming
different-sized groupings all over both back yards. The difference in the
chairs tells me people brought their own. Looking around I'd guess there
are eighty-or-ninety people here. Jesus, who the hell knows that many
people?

In front of the garage closest to Hayden's house are two quarter-kegs of
beer on tap, both sitting in big washtubs of ice; one for Miller Lite and
one for Coors. In addition, there's a table with half-gallon jugs of cheap
Vodka and Gin and one of Seagram whiskey. Not VO, just Seagram which I
don't believe I've ever tasted, plus a half-gallon of Jim Beam
bourbon. Assuming these jugs of booze were full at the beginning of this
cookout, there's been some serious imbibing going on as most off the
half-gallon containers are like two-thirds empty.

This affair began around one o'clock and it's now approaching six, but even
with the beer and liquor consumption apparently high there aren't any
obviously intoxicated individuals here. Not from casually looking at the
masses anyway, but with this many people there's gotta be some drunks after
five-hours of, um, celebrating. On the table next to the half-gallons of
booze there's also plastic half-gallon bottles of tonic, 7-UP, and Coke,
plus generic grape and orange soda from Market Basket. Okay, so this is a
cookout on a budget, not that we have any room to talk since we aren't
contributing anything. Actually, we weren't even officially invited. We
were invited by invitees of Hayden's neighbors... once removed. In other
words, Hayden invited Danny who invited Rob and me.

Of course, there are gas grills fired-up too. Two of them sitting side by
side in the driveway of the neighbor that's two houses down from
Hayden's. We're still close to Hayden's house so we make our way to the bar
that's at the entrance to the closest garage. Rob mumbles, "This is totally
fucking awkward, don't ya think?" Shrugging, I take a plastic cup off a
stack of them and begin pouring Coors beer into it, saying, "Yeah, more
than slightly awkward actually, but I'm thirsty. We never did get anything
to drink at your neighborhood cookout." He nods and says, "Pour me one too,
would ya?" I give him the first one and pour a second cup of beer for
myself and we drink some of it just standing here glancing around, still
trying to spot someone we fucking know. Failing that we look at each other
and snort out a laugh with Rob muttering, "Fucking awkward, am I right?"
Jesus!

After chugging half the cup of beer, I'm like, "We can't just stand here!"
and then a group of ten-or-eleven-year-old kids come running up past us
bumping my arm and spilling some of my beer. Don't kids ever walk? Ignoring
us, they grab cups and begin pouring soda, sloshing it on the table as
they're elbowing each other out of the way and giggling. Rob mutter, "Let's
find Hayden or Danny," and we start wandering around the outskirts of the
yard next to Hayden's, desperate to see somebody familiar.

There are people smoking so we both light a cigarette although I don't
especially want one; it's just something to do. We try ignoring the 'looks'
and vague smiles we're getting from people who for a second think maybe
they know us before realizing they don't and their vague smiles fade
away. I make eye contact with no one! Halfway to the back of this first
yard we finally see Danny playing volleyball. He's wearing a straw hat with
a red, white, and blue ribbon around the band and huge sunglasses which is
why we didn't spot him earlier. I saw the hat and big sunglasses assuming
it was just some jackass overdoing the Fourth of July theme. Rob snickers
and mutters, "There's Danny wearing a disguise. He's playing volleyball
with a team of teenage boys." I nod, "Yeah, I see him. He probably has a
crush on a few of the lads on his team." Rob mutter, "And there's your
buddy, Hayden, sitting with two guys, his Mom, and a huge older man, plus
there's an empty chair." I look where Rob's pointing, asking, "Where?" and
he mumbles, "Like fifteen-feet behind the second gas grille in the next
neighbor's yard." Oh yeah...

We head for Hayden's little group walking around groups of people sitting
on their beach chairs. Huh, this is very similar to what you need to do on
Wildwood's beach at the South Jersey shore. Hayden sees us and says
something to his companions and then he jumps up to meet us. The others all
look our way with the two guys who were sitting next to Hayden frowning at
us. Hayden's all smiles showcasing his gay affectations on this late
afternoon indicating he's been over-drinking again. Coming right up to us,
he says, "Hi, girlfriends," and while doing one-arm hugs he gives us both
the fast-as-a-wink-kiss on the lips and then adds, "Glad you two finally
made it." My grumpiness from being uncomfortable among all these strangers
leaks-out, and I'm like, 'Cut the girlfriend shit, Hayden, please! And
knock off the kiss..." but he's ignoring me and walking us over to the
group where Tinker, lively as ever hops up and hugs me, saying, "Hello
again, Dylan," and then to Rob, "Well, how long has it been, Robert? And
aren't you all grown-up." I guess she hasn't seen Rob for years. He does a
half-smile, saying, "Hi, Mrs. Parks. Yes, it's been a while."

A little additional awkwardness ensues as we stand here being gawked at
before Hayden gets around to introducing us. He says to Rob and me, "You've
met my Mom," and to Rob, "And this is Mom's lumberjack boyfriend, Ralph."
The big man lists his cup and then drinks half of it. Rob nods at the man
and then Hayden points at me, saying to the two guys sitting in chairs,
"This is the famous, Dylan Newman and his famous," pointing at Rob,
"Boyfriend, Rob Dickers, who's also my long-time boyhood friend." The two
guys look at us without getting up out of their chairs. The older of the
two nods his head, mumbling, "How ya doing?" and the youngest-looking one
smirks, asking, "Two more of your fag friends, huh Hayden?" Hayden goes,
"Fuck you, Dennis," and then points to the big-mouth kid, telling us,
"That's Dennis Berk who likes being noticed and says obnoxious things to
make sure he is." Dennis smirks some more while giving Hayden the finger as
Tinker makes a face of disapproval but her boyfriend, Ralph, has no
response. I'm pretty sure Ralph is smashed. Right on cue he finishes off
what looks like a plastic cup of gin and tonic. Guess he didn't want to
involved with the squabble.

Hayden's now gesturing at the older brother, who looks a lot like the
obnoxious younger kid, "And this is my best neighborhood friend of fourteen
years, Terrence Berk, who lends me his car for emergencies." The youngest
neighborhood brother, Dennis, says, "And I lend the homo my motorbike in
other emergencies." Tinker, Hayden's Mom has had enough of Dennis and
sternly says, "Dennis, cool it young man! Nobody thinks your funny." The
older brother swats Dennis's hat off his head revealing a big bunch of dark
hair that needs washing. Rob and I glance at each other rolling our eyes as
Dennis adjusts his junk that's been squeezed into his tight pair of
shorty-shorts.

Tinker says to Rob and me, "Dennis was the sweetest youngster before
turning into the bad seed..." Whatever 'bad seed' means. She grins at
Dennis who grins back, still pulling at the crotch of his
shorts. Mrs. Parks picks-up the hat Terrence knocked off his brother's head
and plops it back on Dennis's head as she's asking us, "Where have you guys
been all afternoon?" Rob tells everyone about the earlier cookouts we were
at. Nodding her head as if she's interested, Mrs. Parks is also apparently
trying to mends fences with Dennis by rubbing his shoulder and smiling at
him so he knows she still likes him. The kid grins cutely at her, shrugging
his shoulder away from her hand. Huh, he's a cute little homophobe.

As Rob's finishes telling about our afternoon activities a nice-looking
lady walks over and, smiling brightly, says, "Rob Dickers! They said you
were coming," and Rob and the woman hug. Rob tells me, "Dylan, this is
Danny's Mom," and she says, "Oh, you're Dylan!" and she hugs me
too... awkwardly. The awkwardness was on my part. She's a good hugger.

I manage to mumble, "Nice to meet you, Mrs. Monday." She sits down in the
vacant beach chair, her's I assume, as Hayden says to Rob and me, "C'mon,
let's say hi to Danny." And then he tells us what we already know, "He's in
the volleyball game." Wise-ass, Dennis, says, "Don't let your high heels
get caught in your skirt, Hayden," and Terrence says, "You're such a dick,
Dennis!" and then Terrence gets up and comes with us. As the four of us
make our way over to the back of the yard, Rob asks Hayden, "How do you put
up with that little asshole?" and Terrence bumps Rob's shoulder saying,
'Hey! He's my brother so I can call him an asshole, but you can't." A
shadow slides over Rob's eyes, one I've seen foretelling unpleasantness so
I pat his back, murmuring, "Cool it, Rob," and Hayden says, "Can't we all
just get along." He and Terrence snicker at that for some reason.

Rob shakes his head at me, like, 'No problem,'. Three six-year-old girls
run right in front of us stepping on Rob's foot. We look at each other as
he mouths silently, 'This blows'. Still, everyone we pass on our way to the
back of the yard is smiling and friendly, some laughing and everyone
apparently having a good time which makes that 'dick' Dennis's act seem
even more out of place. He's the turd in the punch bowl. There's usually at
least one at every affair I've ever been at.

Danny sees us coming and gives us a smiling-wave and then lightly taps the
volley ball to a shirtless teammate who spikes the ball over the net for a
score. Danny's team jumps around hugging each other, apparently winning the
game with that point. One of Danny's teammates, a pretty teenage boy about
fifteen, hugs around Danny's neck with one arm, yelling, "Victors again!"
with his fist in air. Danny's now hugging two other shirtless sweaty boys
and after a little harmless groping a beaming Danny comes over to give Rob
and me a sweaty hug, asking, "Where the hell ya been?" and then, without
waiting for an answer he's hugging both Terrence and Hayden. He's a
hugger...

Girls on the other team are yelling, "Best out of five," meaning I suppose
Danny's team won the best-of-three and the girls want a rematch. The other
team is 'captained' by a male adult, hopefully the father of the buxom
butch-looking teenage girl he has his arms around.  At first glance I
thought the man was wearing a fur coat but it turns-out he simply has way
too much body hair. The man reaches an agreement with Danny to continue the
match. Danny's all-teenage-boy teammates gather around him yelling, "Let's
kick their ass this time, Danny! Put 'em out of their misery fast."

There's more eye-rolling between Rob and me as the pretty teenage boys all
bumps chest with a willing Danny, yelling, "C'mon, Danny, tell them we'll
beat their asses again." Danny nods but perhaps is feeling a tad
embarrassed at his involvement with the boys now that Rob, Hayden, Terrence
and I are watching. In an annoyed manner, he goes, "Chill out a little,
Dougie! Calm down." He looks back at us, saying, "We'll finish this game
quickly and I'll catch-up with you guys." Meanwhile the adult on the other
team tries rallying his teammates consisting of two younger boys who are
wrestling with each other and don't appear to be totally committed to the
game, plus three girl teammates, none of them wearing enough clothing, and
the adult male wearing the fur coat. I'm guessing he's been frequently
hitting the beer keg between the volleyball net and the badminton net if I
can go by the glazed look in his eyes and the fact he's stumbling over his
own feet. Yeah, well that's really some tough competition for Danny's
team...

Happily, there's that quarter keg of beer in a big washtub. Rob points to
it, mumbling, "Let's get another beer." All four of us do that as Hayden's
saying, 'Let's something to eat?" Terrence, who is filling his plastic cup
with beer, tells Rob and me, "Yeah, guys, there's some great casseroles in
the Batties's garage," as he points to his neighbor's house,
two-houses-over from Hayden's. Rob and I following Hayden and Terrence,
mostly because what else are we gonna do?

The garage is the cleanest garage I've ever seen. Everything is in its
place either hanging on the walls or on a workbench at the back. The floor
is painted and I don't believe a car has ever been in here. There a table
out of the sun at the front of the garage with about twenty serving-dishes
of food. The different dishes the foods are in tells me that many of the
families out there on beach chairs brought a contribution to this
buffet. Some hot dishes, like Italian meatballs, are on warming hot plates
with sub rolls next to it and the cold salads are in plastic trays of
crushed ice. Huh, obviously a budget-cookout but done very nicely! We
passed gas grilles on our way here and I noticed only hotdogs are being
offered which is keeping with the penny-pinching trend set by the
bottom-shelve alcohol and the pot-luck buffet. Frankly though I think this
is a perfect cookout with a better 'neighborhood' feel to it than the first
two we were at. You know, because most everyone here has chipped-in with
the food or booze or ice or whatever. Except for freeloaders like Rob and
me, and I suppose a few others...

Ya know what's always made me feel bad about buffet type spread like this
one though? It's that there are always one or two dishes on the buffet that
no one helps themselves to for whatever reason. I remember during my high
school days, middle school too, there would be functions with pot-luck
offerings from parents of the cheerleaders, or girl's lacrosse team, or the
choir, or any under-funded activity that needed to raise money. It'd often
be a donation type pot-luck thingie that Chubby and I would go to as a
cheap way to have dinner. We seldom made a donation, but ya know... That's
not what I'm reminded of though.

Someone's Mom was always a lousy cook, or a good one who made a favorite
hot tuna casserole, or whatever-the-fuck, and no one at the affair cared
for it. Heartless kids and adults all turned-up their noses to one of the
Mom's best effort. I felt bad for those Moms so I'd always take big
helpings from maybe two-or-three areas of the neglected-casseroles to make
it look like a number of people had some. Obviously, I didn't eat any of it
but the Mom wouldn't know that.

This buffet is no different. I'm sure all the Moms made a dish that's very
popular in their household, maybe for cocktail parties or whatever, but no
one here apparently thinks it eatable. There are two casseroles here that
have barely been touched while others are all but gone entirely. A dish
labeled 'moutabal baba ghanoush' hasn't been touched at all, not even by
the person who made it. Sure, it's probably some kind of esoteric Middle
Eastern dish that's maybe awesomely good but looks intimidating. Also, in
the same condition is the one labeled low-fat Greek yogurt dip, and where
are homemade chips that should go with it? Who knows what they're made out
of? Anyway, this kind of thing upsets me and even though I'm not the least
bit hungry I get a paper plate and start putting the neglected food on it
and, even though he's not hungry, Rob mutters, "What the hell," and he gets
a paper plate too. There's a cold pasta salad that looks good as does a
bowl of chicken salad and, oh hell, other dishes look good too! I mean, if
I was hungry. I take enough of both ignored dishes so it appear as though a
number of people tried both dishes. Rob frowns, "What the fuck is that,
babe?" I go, "Just put some on your plate, Rob. Try something new, for
chissake."

Rob takes the spoon and puts a little of both unpopular dishes on his paper
plate so now it looks like a fourth person tried it. Just think how bad the
Mom would have felt if at the end of the night she comes to get her
casserole dish and no one had tried any of her specialty offering! Hayden
and Terrence have paper plates too but they don't go near the two ignored
casseroles. They're finishing off the meatball platter with overloaded sub
sandwiches, piling on the last of the chicken salad and the
deviled-eggs. Pigs! All three of those choices I actually was going to have
a little of. Too late though and, like I said, I'm not hungry anyway. While
the other three guys eat everything on their paper plates while talking,
laughing, and making fun of Danny's hat, I casually bury my untouched paper
plate under a number of other ones in the trash and then frown at Terrence
who eats with his mouth open. No-fucking-body wants to see or hear that!

Rob, like other guys I know, doesn't need to be hungry to eat so, like I
said, I wait for him and the others to finish their plates of food before
the four of us begin aimlessly walking around the two yards drinking beers
and talking or laughing at stuff that's not all that funny. Twenty-minutes
later we all get hot dogs and another beer. It's just what you do at a
cookout; hungry or not...

Terrence turns-out to be a good guy even if he is an open-mouth-eater. I
had my doubts about him earlier too, I mean when he told Rob not to call
Dennis an asshole. I mean it's obvious Dennis is the poster-child for
assholes the world over, but Terrence was just sticking-up for his
homophobic little brother and since then he's been pretty cool. Plus I give
him props for being Hayden's friend. Terrence is obviously not gay and
Hayden obviously is so I appreciate that Terrence not only doesn't seem to
care but better yet he doesn't feel the need to even mentions Hayden's
exaggerated gay act this afternoon. Actually, most guys our age, like
eighty-five percent, don't find it especially disturbing that some of us
are gay. Still, a straight guy like Terrence being a good friend of a gay
guy makes me think good thoughts about him. I just do, and especially a gay
guy like Hayden who pushes it in your face a little. Not that, within
reason, there's anything wrong with that.  We don't have beach chairs so
we're relegated to walking around or standing. Terrence or Hayden
occasionally introduces Rob, and me to some of the other guys and girls
around our age we pass by during our wandering. They're cousins or friends
from up the street; like that, and we bull-shit with them for a bit before
moving on. Much later than he said he'd be, Danny finally joins us with
more hugs for everyone. One of his teenage teammates from the volleyball
game is with Danny. The kid's obviously enthralled that an older guy is
showing him attention and treating him as an equal. This particular
teenager is the pretty-boy who I'm guessing is fifteen-or-sixteen. He's
still not wearing a shirt and only has on a too-small shorty-short bathing
suit and flip-flops, which must have made it difficult playing
volleyball. Danny's giving him the full touchy-feely treatment although he
never does it sexually. Finally, Hayden gets Danny aside for a seriously
animated one-minute discussion after which Danny sends the teen, Ricky,
that's the lads name, on his way.

The five of us continue hanging-out drifting around drinking lots of beer
and smoking cigarettes. We end-up at the ping pong table along with a dozen
other people. We've passed by the ping pong game a couple of times and the
same father and son duo are beating all challengers. As we watch, from the
conversations we overhear regarding the father/son duo is not
favorable. They're arrogant and very bad winners, which is just as bad in
our book as 'poor losers'. Ya know, if you can't play sports, at least be a
'sport'. Anyway, the bad behavior from this father/son duo is the incentive
Danny and Rob need to casually challenge the winners of the next game.

As that's being sorted out Terrence gets called by his Dad to help with
something. He says, "I'll catch you guys later," and Hayden smacks hands
with him as Rob and Danny listen to the rules of the ping pong game
according to the adult man and his son; both of them continuing to be
loudly obnoxious. The father has a Marine-type skin-head-haircut and is
probably in his early forties.  His son looks to be sixteen or so and they
both have Southern accents although I guess there's nothing wrong with
that. The son, who his Father calls, Junior, has the biggest mouth I've
ever seen. Wide mouth with big teeth; looks like he has many more teeth
then he needs actually. Anyway, they're both shirtless and sweaty and
they're both in for a very rude awakening because Rob and Danny will smoke
their asses. I hear the man saying condescendingly to Rob and Danny, "Okay
boys, best out of three games but in all fairness, I need to warn you both
myself and my son, Junior, have a wicked serve and we take no prisoners."
Rob and Danny smirk at each other as Hayden pulls on my arm, saying,
"Follow me."

I'm like, "Yeah, let's get another beer," and he goes, "No beer. You're
coming with me to have a shot of Johnnie Walker Blue Label, a redux of
Saturday night." I stop, "Nope! I'm not having a shot of anything,
Hayden. There's the beer kegs right there so let's you and me have another
beer." Hayden goes, "No! It's only right we keep-up with the Fourth theme
and have a shot of that scotch from the United Kingdom." I go, "The what?
Do you mean the United Arab, um, something? What's that have to do with the
Fourth of July?" Reaching up he squeezes the back of my neck, giving me
chills, and then leaving his hand there, saying emphatically, "Nooo! I mean
the United Kingdom!  That's where Blue Label comes from so let's toast
Great Britain and Northern Ireland. In other words, England, numb-nuts!"
I'm like, "Are you sure about that?" He squeezes the back of my neck again,
grinning, "I'm pretty sure I know Johnnie Walker doesn't come from here, I
know that much."

Fucking Hayden still has that sexually mysterious 'something' that gets me
feeling squirmy with my dick tightening-up. It's the way the little twerp
can get bossy while overdoing his gay affectations act a little bit. Heh
heh, I'm surely the only person on earth who feels there's 'something''
intriguingly sexual about him. I'm grinning when I mutter, "You're giving
me chills, Hayden," but then shrug away from his hand because we're right
in the middle of the two yards full of people. I don't agree its right to
attract unnecessary attention to our gayness in the middle of ninety
straight people. What's the point of that?

I pulled my right hand away as my left, seemingly on its own, gropes my
junk for a second. Hayden takes my hand away from my crotch and holds my
left hand this time, smirking and saying, "I'll hold your hand right in
front of all these people unless you have a shot of scotch with me." Again,
pulling my hand roughly out of his, I go, "Fuck! Okay, let's have a
shot. Jesus!" He chuckles, "You're such a phony acting grumpy like
that. You like the attention I give you and you get good chills when I do
this," and he squeezes the back of my neck again as I hunch my shoulders
trying not to laugh but snort out a laugh anyway. Looking at him as we walk
across the driveways to his house, I mumble, "I never said I didn't like
the chills," and he squeezes the back of my neck a third time with me
shuddering slightly, lying, "No chills that time." He snickers, muttering,
"Liar."

The side door off his driveway is unlocked so I follow him inside, asking,
"What will your Mom think seeing us going in here?" As we go into the
kitchen, he says, "If she saw us come in, which she couldn't have from
where she's sitting, she'd probably think we came inside to make-out or
screw." A shiver of anticipation shoots through me. Can I believe I didn't
realize he had 'fucking' in mind all along? I'm getting slow on the
uptake. 'Uptake'? What's that mean anyway?

I guess we're going to have the shot because Hayden's got the Johnnie
Walker Blue Label bottle down with two shot glasses, almost dropping all
three because he could barely reach them in the top shelf of the
cabinet. He plops them on the kitchen table, grinning again, saying, "And
Mom would be right." I go, "I'll have the shot but I'm gonna take a
rain-check on the, um, screwing. Rob and Danny are right outside." Hayden
mutters, "The hell with your rain-check idea and yeah our boyfriends are
outside... two-yards-over and deeply involved in kicking some ass in a
best-of-three ping-pong match." My hand goes to Hayden's head with my
fingers in his pale red hair, asking, "When are you gonna be ready for the
next step of your haircut evolution? The one getting you closer to
normalcy." He makes a 'face', mumbling, "Whaddaya talking about? My hair is
normal right now. You cut it this way!" That was like five-or-six-weeks ago
and it's grown over his ears and collar already, but it still looks way
better than it did when I first met him.

With my fingers still in his clean hair he's looking at me, just standing
there until I'm like, "Oh!" as if I didn't realize my hand was
there. Actually, I sort of froze for a few seconds because he's so
strangely sexy. I pull my hand away, saying, "Whatever you say, its your
fucking hair." He shakes his head a little, mumbling, "Gawd, you are so
cute, Dylan. Put your hand on my head again." I'm acting grumpy again,
saying, "Don't be an ass! Pour the shots if you're going to," and he
chuckles trying to grab my hand but I pull it away, yelling, "Pour the
fucking shots! If not, let's go get another beer." He goes, "Mister
Grumpy!" and he pours two shots, saying, "After we do a few shots we're
going down to the basement." I mutter, 'Wrong on both counts. I'm not
having a 'few' shots and I'm not going in your basement. I'm going outside
to watch Danny and Rob humiliate those two obnoxious ping-pong players. Did
you see the two girls they beat before the Rob and Danny challenged them?
Two girls!" He doesn't care as he grins at me.

Hayden picks up his shot, so I pick up mine and he says, "Toast to you, the
cutest guy since that drummer boy's picture in my sixth grade Social
Studies book about the Revolutionary War." I go, "I'm not drinking to that
absurd toast!" and we both snicker with me muttering, "Asshole."

Still holding our shot glasses up, Hayden says, "How about this one? To me
fucking you on the chaise lounge in my basement!" I mutter, "Fuck no!" but
flash the shot down anyway. After a quiet gasp and gulp, I mumble, "I got
tired of holding up the shot glass." He pours two more with me hitting his
hand. He spills some and yells, "Hey! This bottle cost $187.00!" I go, "I
don't want another shot, goddammit!" Finished pouring two more, he wipes up
the spilled scotch with a napkin, saying, "You make this toast, Dylan."
Shaking my head, I can't help but grin. I'm seriously not even horny but
Hayden and his persistent manner somehow gets me aroused. Hell, Rob and I
screw awesomely but Hayden's got my number and damn, I think he's sexy,
hot, and cute. Cute in his own unique way. He's giving me those puppy-dog
eyes now so I lift the shot glass and say, "Oh the hell with it. Here's to
us fucking on the chaise lounge in your basement." He smiles and we flash
down the second shots with me then grabbing the bottle and holding it above
my head, saying, "No more!"

He takes the shot glasses and puts them in the dishwasher, saying happily,
"Well we don't need another shot since you've finally come to your senses."
He takes the bottle and puts it back in the over-head cabinet with me
muttering, "Can you reach that okay, shorty?" He snorts out a laugh and
then takes my hand to say, seriously, "Stop goofing around now. Please, try
to get in that docile, um, sort of spacey way you were in the last time we
did it. I don't care if you need to fake it because it was the most awesome
I've ever felt having sex... ever!" I'm like, "Oh fuck, that was so long
ago I can't recall the spacey or docile thing you're referring to." What a
lie that is! I've been comparing Marty's attempt at sub/dom sex to
Hayden's, which is superior. Still holding my hand, he pulls me toward the
basement door, saying, "I can't explain you getting spacey; you were like
putty in my hands though and it was so, um, perfect! Oh, didn't you say
something back then about my voice being hypnotic." I go, "Really? Huh! I
don't recall anything like that." He mutters, "You said something like
that. I'm sure of it."

I don't mind him holding hands. Actually, I like doing that with certain
guys and Hayden's one of them. And why was I hesitating having some
buddy-sex with him anyway? Hell, I've been looking for the elusive sexual
'variety' this entire summer. The 'missing' sexual variety this summer. I
mean, it's been basically nonexistent, or almost nonexistent. An almost
barren summer in the 'variety' area as compared to my last three
summers. Or is it my last four?

At the top of the steps a thought bombards my brain and I stop, jerking on
his hand to stop him on the top step. I go, "Wait a fucking second! Is this
another one of Danny's arrangements for us?" Hayden steps back up on the
landing with me to raise his right hand, saying, "I swear to God it's not,
Dylan. No way! Scout's honor! I told Danny you were pissed about him trying
to get us together in the pool house that time and he agreed you were
right. He wants to apologize but I think he's too embarrassed to bring it
up, or maybe he's waiting for the perfect moment too mention it. Danny
doesn't have anything to do with you and me being here. It's
one-hundred-percent my idea."

Thinking for a second, and then I'm nodding my head because I believe him,
but feel it necessary to say, "If I find out it's something else, Hayden,
I'll never be able to trust you." He says, "Danny has nothing to do with
you and me now. We're on our own. Um, don't get mad but I told him we
already did it way back when and he seemed jealous for just a second and
then went into his thing about us four gay guys sticking together and blah,
blah, blah... We're all good, so..." I nod again thinking that now I don't
need to have that 'talk' with Danny. He wants to apologize for that bogus
attempt to get Hayden and I to have buddy-sex so I'll leave it at
that. Following Hayden downstairs, I'm feeling kinda good about the
Danny-issue being cleared-up and without me even needing to get
involved. Hayden straightened it out. Hmmm, this buddy-sex is going to be
kind of fun. I'm just hoping I haven't built-up Hayden's and my previous
times together as more than they were.

I tend to exaggerate things that I really want to be great. Nah, I'm almost
positive it was as good as I remember. I mean, buddy-sex with Hayden and
his impressive penis; why wouldn't it be good for both of us? He has that
mysterious 'something' that's very sexually hot in my mind and he never
gets to 'top' except with me, so it's a really big deal in his mind
too. Hopefully I haven't exaggerated the dominant aspect of Hayden's sex
and it'll be a hot time. What would ruin whatever dominant sense I get from
Hayden is if he 'puts' it on like Marty did. Hayden needs to be himself, be
natural. Oh fuck, I'll soon find out. At worst it'll be a good fuck with a
really big cock with someone I like. Sexual variety rocks even if it isn't
my old favorite sub/dom sex...

We're in the basement, the third time for me, and I see nothing's improved
down here. Still cinder block walls and a cement floor with the incongruous
full bathroom off to the right. And the same beat-up chairs and dilapidated
chaise lounge. Hayden puts a hand on both my shoulders looking up into my
eyes, quietly saying, "I want to remind you again that you need to get into
the mood you were in that last time we did it." I say, "I don't remember
it, Hayden. Well, I remember it but I can't just put myself in some kind of
mood like you said." Muttering, "Oh man, you're being difficult," and he
leans his head forward until the top of his head bumps my nose. He's three
inches shorter than me and only weights about a
hundred-and-ten-pounds... Jesus! His hair has a clean sunny-outdoor smell
though and that's a pleasant scent. He mumbles, "I'm trying tooto think
what I did back then." I feel like hugging the shit out of his skinny body
but I don't. He's so fucking serious about wanting it to be as good for him
as it was last time. Hell, as good for me too.

He lifts his head and looks me in the eyes again, "Okay, Dylan, we both
know you enjoy being the submissive partner during sex; at least some of
the time, right?" I nod, "Yeah," and he says, "So let's start out with you
pretending I'm a dominant bad-ass and we've switched bodies. You're my size
and I'm your size." I mutter, "I can't pretend that much, sorry." He snorts
out a chuckle, saying, "Try harder, okay!" I grin, "Okay." Hayden still has
a hand on each side of my shoulders looking me in the eyes like he's Coach
Benintendi coaching-up a ballplayer. He goes, "Just do what you're
told. Can you do that much?" I go, "We'll see. It depends on what I'm
told." He gives me an exasperated expression and, oh shit, I don't know why
I'm being difficult. Hayden's so sincere, so I go, "No, I mean, okay sure I
can do what I'm told." His eyes narrow, "Be serious!" I nod and he lets go
of my shoulders, saying, "First let's take off our shirts. Bodily contact
seems to be arousing to you."

I pull my Polo golf shirt over my head, asking, "Isn't it arousing to you?"
He says, "Forget about me. It's you who need to get into your role!" I go,
"Yes, boss."  He frowns at me as he takes his shirt off exposing his thin
torso. His ribs showed when his arms were up pulling his shirt over his
head. No hair on his chest at all, although he does have those hairy legs
which my eyes seem to go to on their own. His skinny hairy legs look sexy
somehow. He goes, "Good, no shirts." His hands rub over my body as he
smiles, murmuring, "I love your body. It's not as, um, mature as Danny's
but I think I like it even more than his." Flicking my nip-ring now, Hayden
looks up at me, asking, "Should I get one of these, do ya think?" Shaking
my head, I go, "Nah. You don't need one. Your body's fine like it is," and
he laughs making a muscle with both arms, muttering, "I'm glad you
noticed." I can't resist hugging him against me with him hugging around me
and lifting his face for a rough kiss that catches my bottom lip between
our teeth as his tongue licks across mind. His tongue tastes like mustard.

It's a ten-second kiss and we let go of each other with him saying, "I know
Goddamn well you like me a lot, Dylan, so you might as well not bother
pretending you don't." I shrug, "I've never pretended I don't." He makes a
smirking 'face', saying, "Well good then! You're doing great so far. Now
you need to get on your knees and take my cock out of my pants. It's
sweaty, I'll tell you that right off the bat." I go, "Yeah, that's no
problem and I'll be happy to suck your dick, but how much time do you think
we have here? You know, before the boyfriends come looking for us." He
says, "Yeah, um, we'll speed things along if you'll cooperate." Dropping to
my knees, I mumble, "Just saying..."

I don't go through his fly to get at his dick though; instead, taking a
page out of Tomas's sex-manual, I pull Hayden's shorts down over his narrow
hips with him saying, "Hey!" Pulling his jockey shorts down, I mumble, "In
the interest of time I bypassed the fumbling inside your fly," and lift his
heavy penis. He goes, "Okay, but do things like I tell you to from now on,
okay?" I absently mutter, "Yeah, I'll try, boss," and lick the head of his
cock. Hayden keeps his pubic hairs shaved clean on a regular basis, like
me. It gets to be a habit while showering and by now I'm sort of hooked on
the idea of no pubic hair and maybe I'll be the same way forever... who
knows.

After licking the fat head of his big cock, I lick from his nuts up the
shaft a few times before pushing a couple of inches into my mouth. It's
mouthful alright and I can't help but compare it to Marty's big
cock. There's not a big difference in the size, length or circumference,
but Marty's cock might have a slightly larger head. Both of them are
excellent cocks to suck and take up my ass, but because I like Hayden a lot
more I prefer his cock. Also it's a nicer looking penis than Marty's, which
is sort of tough-looking while Hayden's is friendly-looking. Ha ha, I know
that's idiotic but that's how I see them.

There's some quiet grunting coming from Hayden now as he pulls my hair
slightly. Unperturbed by that I suck on the shaft of his stiffing cock,
moving my tongue against the underside of it as it rests heavily
there. Hayden begins little humping, his hips sliding his fat cock on my
tongue so I keep my bottom teeth covered and let him do the work. As his
cock slides ever closer to the back of my mouth it firms-up into a
full-fledged boner. Hayden groans, grabbing hold of my head with both his
hands, and begins thrusting his hardening cock against the back of my
throat making me gag each time the head hits the gag reflex area. I have no
control of that involuntary gagging reflex it seems. He pulls my head up
and back with his eyes closed making soft murmuring sounds and then his
cock is forced into my throat with me struggling a little but he holds my
head still and pushes his hard cock further and further down my throat and
making whining sounds as if he's in pain. I'm gagging and struggling again
but he has a tight hold on my head and quickly his shaved groin is against
my face and, just like that, I get docile for him. I just do. My body
completely relaxes as I feel very submissive, not thinking that I wasn't
expecting this... not thinking anything. I just acknowledge I'm dominated
and my cock hardens up quickly. Hayden's mindlessly humping his
clean-shaven crotch against my face, his balls bouncing off my chin as I
feel his cock expand in my throat. Tears run down my face. Not from pain or
anything, my eyes just water.

My hand gropes at my hard cock in my shorts frustrating me that I didn't
think to pull my pants down and now Hayden's pulling his cock back slowly
as I begin struggling from desperate need of oxygen. His very hard boner's
head flops out of my throat and rests heavily on my tongue as I gasp-in
air, not thinking about anything, just gasping in air and waiting. Marty
deep-throated me just last night and maybe everyone is going to be deep
throating me from now on. I'm not thinking about that though.

Hayden moans as one hand pulls on my bangs hard, pushing my head back
further. Another, "Aaaaaaah, oooooh, fuuuuuck," from Hayden, his eyes still
closed and then with another rough pull on my hair he pushes his boner down
my throat again and I'm as loose and docile as a puddle. He never opens his
eyes but his body seems to be shimmering. Again, his eight-inch boner goes
way down my throat and now he does two-to-three-inch thrusting; pulling it
back and pushing it back in my throat as pre-cum from my hard boner drools
onto my underwear. Oh yeah, I feel completely dominated by this
deep-throating and Hayden gives no indication he's going to stop until he
climaxes. He may not have intended to do this but he's caught-up in it now
as his dick has control of his brain.

It's thrust, thrust, thrust with my hips humping now along with each thrust
of his swollen, long cock until Hayden cries out, "Ooooh," with his crotch
against my face humping against my nose with his head back and the fingers
of both his hands pulling my hair hard as I feel his boner pulsating in my
throat and then with a noisy-breathy-sound by Hayden, almost a sound of
relief, he climaxes directly down my throat and my involuntary throat
muscles try swallowing but nothing's working properly there at the
moment. I almost climax, but don't and now I struggle so hard I pull away,
the need to breathe overriding every other instinct and his boner slides
out of my throat as I fall backwards, and then it's out of my mouth too
with cum strands connecting the head of his boner and my mouth. He strokes
his cock getting spurts of cum fling out to splatter on my face and then
he's bending over and moaning. I grope my crotch but still don't cum. It
was really close though.

Sitting back up on my heels gasping in oxygen, my face hot and red, I don't
know how I feel about anything right now. As my lungs return to normal
breathing and I calm down my heart rate slows down too and I'm staring at
Hayden who's still bent over although his body isn't stiff as a board
now. He slowly straightens-up and glances over looking guilty and
murmuring, "Sorry, Dylan. I, um, we, Danny and I have missed a week of, um,
and it's my fault, not the missed week, but me shooting-off down your
throat. I couldn't stop... that's what I meant about it being my fault."
I'm still staring at him, still not sure how pissed-off I am, or if I even
am pissed off at him. He goes, "Are you mad? I'm sorry, um..." I couldn't
even taste his cum. The head when it was firing off his load of spunk shot
it right down my throat. It felt like the head was at my Adam's apple, but
it probably wasn't.

Standing up, I mutter, "My throat feels funny," and as Hayden pulls up his
pants, his now flaccid big cock pouncing against the waistband of his
shorts before disappearing inside. With a concerned expression, he asks,
"Are you okay? I'll never do that again. I'm really sorry but you're the
only person who has ever let me deep throat them." Did I let him? That's
not what happened, but I've taken big cocks in my throat before. Shaking my
head, I mumble, "Don't worry about it, Hayden. I could have pulled my head
away if I really wanted to." He looks like he doubts that but is willing to
let me believe it if I want to. He did have a tight hold on my head and
then my hair, so maybe I couldn't have pulled away.

He gets hold of my arm pulling me forward a little, saying, "C'mon over and
sit down, Dylan. You look shaky." Is he serious? Sitting on the edge of the
chaise lounge, I ask, "Were you so horny you couldn't stop? Is that what
you were trying to say a minute ago?" He sits next to me and turns sideways
to put both arms around me for a hug, saying, "I guess so. The last thing
in the world I'd want to do is hurt you, but it's like my mind went blank
or something." I go, "The last thing in the world you'd want to do is hurt
me? You'd rather hurt your mother first?" He frowns, "Well, there are
exceptions but I definitely don't want to be responsible for hurting you."
As I try extricating myself from his hugging arms, I mumble, "Well you
didn't hurt me so, um, let go, okay?" He goes, "No," and hugs me tighter,
saying, "I feel like I need to take care of you after that rude assault on
your throat."

Hell, my throat's fine but my underpants are dripping with pre-cum, so I'm
like, "Can I borrow a pair of underpants, Hayden?" He goes, "Oh! You
shot-off in your pants when I was deep throating you? Holy shit, that's so
sexy! I mean of me getting you to cum in your pants."  He's chuckling as I
go, "Don't get ahead of yourself, dude. It's only pre-cum, but it's
sticky."

We go upstairs to the back hall where he opens sliding doors behind which
are a washer and dryer. He says, "Mom did a wash yesterday," and he takes a
pair of boxer shorts from a pile of folded clothes. I change right there in
the hall, handing Harden my pre-cum saturated underwear. He holds it out,
saying, "Jesus, that's a lot of pre-cum," and then flips my jockey shorts
into the washing machine. Of shit, what's Tinker gonna think about that? A
random pair of strange pre-cum-soaked underwear her washing machine.

Well obviously, I was dominated during that oral sex and consequently got
docilely submissive to Hayden, but it wasn't like one of those great
trances of my past. It was, um, new. Another something new experience like
I had with Marty last night and while I did spring a boner during Hayden's
deep-throating, and almost climaxed, I don't know, somehow it wasn't that
special 'thing' I'm looking for. I still don't know what to think about it
except it was totally unexpected, like Marty peeing down my throat. Hell, I
think Marty's pissing was so new and unexpected it definitely tops Hayden's
out of control deep throating. Yeah but I don't think I want to experience
either of those things again. Well fuck, that's kind of a disappointing
outcome for both experiences.

Hayden watched me putting my shorts back on and then he hands me my shirt
that he carried upstairs with him. He asks, "What were you just thinking
just now, Dylan?" I shrug, "Oh nothing," and after I pull my shirt over my
head, I ask, "Ready to go? Ya know, it's been real and all that, but let's
go outside and see what our boyfriends are up to now." Hayden sort of
shocks me then by not arguing. He goes, "Yeah, okay, but if we get the
chance a little later when I'm all revved-up again I still want to fuck
you." I get my arm around the back of his neck, saying, "Okay... if we get
the chance." He says, "You want it so bad, don't you? I can see it in your
eyes!" I should whack him but instead I kiss the side of his head,
murmuring, "I can see why Danny's thinks you're alright." He goes, "He
thinks I'm more than alright. He's this far," and he holds his thumb and
index finger an inch apart, "From being in love with me." I let go of him,
asking, "Did he tell you that?" Hayden shrugs, "He doesn't need to, I can
tell." Nodding my head and rubbing my throat, I mutter, "I need a beer."

We go outside where it's still sunny day even though it's a little after
seven o'clock. Our first stop is the garage across from Hayden's driveway
where the quarter kegs sit in ice that's mostly melted by now. The draft
beer will be cold though and we both get a new plastic cup from the stack
of cups. Hayden takes my cup and pours cups of beer for us both getting too
much foam; too much of a head on mine. I get a beer-foam mustache drinking
three big swallows. Wiping that off my upper lip, I'm like, "C'mon, let's
see if the guys are still playing ping-pong." Hayden bumps my side and
says, "You're the only guy I know who I can do that kind of awesome sexual
stuff with." He takes hold of my arm to stop me and, very seriously, says,
"So I want to thank you very much. Seriously, Dylan, I think you're a
fantastic person." I say, "Thank you. You're a pretty good guy yourself."

He looks so happy! Ya know, I can't understand why Rob doesn't like
Hayden. What's not to like? We find Robby and Danny still playing ping-pong
but not against the obnoxious father and son duo. They're playing two guys
in their late twenties who are really good and our guys are concentrating;
their competitiveness is off the charts. When Danny whacks the hell out of
the ping-pong ball making it skips off the table between their two
opponents, one of them goes to get it, so Hayden asks Danny, "Did that
father and son duo give you any problems, Daniel?" He goes, "We beat them
twenty-one to seven in the first game and then twenty-one to three in the
second. They went off muttering they were tired-out by the time we played
them."

Rob smirks at me, asking, "How ya doing, babe?" I go, "Good, how 'bout you,
babe?" He says, "Aces! What have you guys been doing?" I say, 'Waiting for
our boyfriends to finish playing and, um, pounding down some beers while we
were doing that." The guy that went after the ping-pong ball is back. He
heard Rob and me call each other 'babe' and asks the four of us, "You guys
gay?" He was serious, not breaking balls. Before I can say anything, Danny
says, "No, we're just fucking around, dude. Are you two gay?" The guy goes,
"Us? Fuck no! Brian's married and I'm engaged. We're not gay!" Danny
sarcastically says, "Swell then, none of us are gay. It's your serve." Rob
gives me a grin. Oh man, Rob's sooooo cool and sooooo good-looking!

I only found out recently that Danny has a challenging sort of pushy
no-bull-shit-attitude that he uses once in a while, which is so different
from his normal personality. It's like he's looking for a fight. Well he is
still in the closet which prompted his snarling response to the guy's 'gay'
question. I mean Danny's in the closet except for about half-a-dozen of us
who know better. That's tricky of him to pull off and I don't know the
reasons for him going to the trouble, but he seems intent on continuing
with it.

Hayden and I finish our beer watching the ping-pong match that Danny and
Rob do eventually win but then give the table up, not wanting to play
anymore. The two losers take on two female challengers; the one guy's wife
and the other guy's fiancé. Jeez, the 'girls' are a couple of
bow-wows but then the guys are nothing to write home about either.

The four of us get another beer and then have another hot dog, watching
older adults playing badminton. They're stumbling around and actually
falling at times with the fallen woman's shrilly laughing joining the other
old-timers who are laughing at her. We're stifling our laughter but it is
some funny shit. We don't want to be too obvious, as if we're mocking the
older people. And, hey, I know we'll be old someday too, but we aren't now!

I'm definitely noticing something else and it's that the all-day boozing is
catching up with some of these people and it's becoming noticeable. Also,
the younger children are getting cranky and whiny. Time to go except Rob
and Danny aren't ready to call it a day. They want Hayden and me to be
partners for the gin rummy game that's underway for money. It's being
played at the picnic table where the older guys played poker when we first
got here. There are two gin rummy games going on and it's another
'challenge' situation: when a two-man team loses another team takes their
place. I pull Robby aside and go, "Let's get outta here," but Rob's reached
that area of drunkenness where he thinks he's almost sober. He wants to
stay and it is only like seven-thirty so I shrug and say, "Okay, we'll stay
but I don't want to play cards."

Danny and Robby get in the game though, each putting up ten-dollars and
then, after Hayden and I watch the game for ten-minutes, Hayden leans into
me quietly, saying, "Hey Dylan, you said if we get the chance," and his
eyes are sparkling. I grin, "Yeah, I guess I did, but where's your Mom?" He
says, "She left with her boyfriend an hour ago. They have another party to
go to. She'll be home late so c'mon. You promised." I never promised
anything! On the other hand, why not? I shrug, "You the man, Hayden! How
can I say no to you."? On his tiptoes he puts his lips on my ear, saying,
"I love you," and I step away, muttering, "No you don't... and don't
fucking say shit like that or you'll freak me out." He goes, "Okay, I won't
say it again. Now c'mon!" We walk through the thinning crowds with me
asking, "How long do you think those guys will play cards? I'm getting
wicked tired after all day at three cookouts." He says, "Stop being
grumpy!"

We're almost to Hayden's driveway when Terrence yells, "Hold up, guys." We
stop and Terrence jogs up to us with Hayden grinning at him and pointing to
me as he tells Terrence, "Sorry, buddy, I'll be busy for a little while."
Terrence looks at me grinning, his eyes big, and then he looks back at
Hayden, asking, "You gonna tell me every detail? Promise?" Hayden goes,
"Don't I always!" Terrence puts his arm across my shoulders and squeezes,
saying, "I'm pretty sure you'll enjoy yourself, Darren." Hayden says, "He's
Dylan, you ass!" Terrence goes, "I'm sorry, Dylan. I meant Dylan," and then
to Hayden, "Find me later, okay? No secrets!" Hayden nods and Terrence
grins at us, asking, "Can I watch," and then he laughs, with Hayden joining
in.

Hayden pulls my arm while still chuckling and says, "Let's go. Don't be
shy, it's not that big," and Terrence says, "good luck, Dylan. I'll listen
for your moans." When we're at his back door I'm like, "Did that all mean
what I think it did?" Hayden looks serious again, saying, "Yes, but
Terrence is the only person on this earth I tell my sexy activities
to. He's super interested in that." I go, "Is he gay?" We go inside as
Hayden says, "Not that I can prove. We did jerk each other off back in
middle school. Well I went to private school but during the summers we did
it regularly. Jerking me off is as far as he'd ever go though and I've
offered to blow him like fifty times. I've always had a crush on Terrence."

Terrence isn't especially cute or hot; just a regular guy with a cute
smile... that's about it. I'm curious though, asking, "When did he stop
jerking you off?" Hayden goes, "Omigod, back when we were like fourteen. He
loves hearing how Danny fucks me though and, um, his favorite of all times
is me telling about, you know, you and me before I went to California."

So that's why Terrence looked so excited giving me those big eyes and
hugging my shoulders. He can't wait to hear Hayden tell him about
it. Hayden asks, "Ya want another shot of Blue Label?" I shake my head,
asking, "Does Terrence tell you about his sexual exploits?" Hayden shrugs,
"No, he doesn't have any to tell me about. He's a virgin." As we go down
the cellar steps, I mumble, "That's the goofiest arrangement I've ever
heard of. Terrence has to be a closet-gay. He has to be." Hayden goes, "I
don't think so but I wish he was."

Trying to take charge now, Hayden says, "We're stripping for this, Dylan,
and you'll do what I say. No more messing around and drop the grumpiness
too." I'm like, 'I'm not grumpy! Hey, and why in the hell are we doing it
in your basement? Why can't we use your bedroom? I mean, this place,
um... look at that chaise lounge!" He's like, "Oh fuck yeah! Why didn't I
think of that? My bedroom is where we're going...  right now! Get moving up
those steps!" Going up the steps, I'm like, 'Don't you start with that
'babe' shit too. Rob and Danny say it and enough is enough already with
that crap." He grins, "Stop being grumpy! If you're not careful you're
gonna end-up with a red-stinging-ass from a hard spanking." Yeah, why am I
being grumpy? I wanna do this...

to be continued...

         Donny Mumford     thinat20@yahoo.com      donnymumford@outlook.com

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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published
and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for
next to nothing. The books are usually around ten dollars. They are about a
19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And
there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them
out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the
books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.

 Donny Mumford
 
========================================================

Hey guys, how about making a small (or large, go for it!) tax deductible
donation to nonprofit Nifty. They could use your help covering the expenses
inherent in maintaining a free story site this size. Easy directions about
how to do that on their 'home page'. Thanks!

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html