Date: Fri, 19 Oct 2018 15:34:23 +0000 (UTC)
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter   15

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter   15

by  Donny Mumford


I'm lying in Danny's dorm room bed with my legs up and bent at the knees as
I'm gently feeling my stinging butt cheeks. After the unexpected hour or so
of buddy sex with Danny, he just as unexpectedly laid a hard spanking on my
ass and then chuckled as he left to take a shower. I was too shocked to do
or say anything before he left. Bizarre behavior, but not hard to figure
out in hindsight. It's more misinterpretation of what Danny's heard Rob say
about me... or at least outdated information.

Danny is my only buddy sex option currently and while he is a helluva good
one, spanking my ass like that simply doesn't work for me anymore. It's not
a big deal, I'll simply bring him up to date about that. On a brighter
note, I'm meeting Pony at the airport tonight which will immediately double
my buddy sex opportunities. Not only that, but I'm excited about the
opportunity Pony represents for me to be the 'top'.

Being a 'top' during sex isn't something I've cared to do much of until
recently. Yeah, for whatever reason I've developed this itch to be the
'top' guy. Don't get me wrong, it most definitely isn't a serious enough
itch that I'd consider giving up Rob's and my normal way of having sex. And
Danny is way too good at 'topping' during our buddy sex to even consider
asking him to switch, not that he would anyway. He's got that bogus story
of how years ago he tried to take Hayden's big dick up his ass and the
ensuing problems put him off 'bottoming' forever...period! So as far as my
recent itch for 'topping' is concerned... that's where Pony comes in.

That's something to think about later though. For now, I need to straighten
Danny out about the spanking part of our buddy sex. Sure, when I was just
beginning gay sexual encounters I'd get aroused from a hot sexy guy giving
my ass a hard dominant spanking. And even now, to a much lesser degree, it
can still occasionally get my dick firming-up a little but I mean from a
couple of hard smacks on my ass and not from getting spanked like an
eight-year-old who said the f-bomb at Sunday school... not like that, which
is the way Danny just did it. So, yeah, fuck that!

I noticed something interesting though and it's that with Danny there isn't
any meanness in his spanking, plus he doesn't seem all that comfortable
doing it. I think that's why he does his nervous laugh or chuckle
afterward. Some guys have meanness in their hearts and 'get-off' spanking
their sex partners, which I suspected Ryan of doing. Plus, if the guy
spanking you gets a hard-on while doing it... that's not good because
you're likely dealing with a sadist. Like all odd interactions among
humans, spanking can also be a fetish... a spanking fetish. There are sites
on the Internet dedicated to spanking so just when you think you've heard
everything, you find out you haven't.

The stinging on my ass has mostly faded and now I'm grinning to myself
thinking about Danny goofily referring to his sex buddies as his 'bottom
boys'. Well, not always. I guess he mentioned it once or twice at the most
last summer. Oh man, when I heard that I couldn't stop rolling my eyes for
like three minutes... haha. It makes me grin now too because when I was
seventeen or eighteen I would have loved being one of Danny's so-called
'bottom boys' for real! I mean if somehow, he'd be the age he is now when I
was seventeen. Haha, maybe I'll have a fantasy about that sometime, like
when I'm bored in class.

Oh, fuck yeah, and in my fantasy, I'd be brimming with anticipation waiting
for my turn among his 'bottom boys'. Maybe I'd whisper a question to one of
his other 'bottom boys' whether I should I call him Danny, Mr. Monday or
just 'sir'? Haha! I'd probably be pulling on my seventeen-year-old dick
wickedly excited about the hard spanking and fucking I'll be getting when
it's my turn. Fantasies, ya know?

Yeah well, being seventeen is one thing but at my current advanced age,
that scenario is more pathetic than sexy. And I mean no disrespect to those
who might disagree with me about that.

But yeah, most of us resist having immature teenage fun 'cause we wanna be
considered mature 'young adults'. There's something called self-respect to
consider as well. At a certain age, you're simply not supposed to have as
much wild free sex as you're allowed to have as a teenager. And then, like
I said, there are others who simply don't give a shit what age they
are. They operate outside the lines and do whatever they feel like at
whatever age... and they'll tell you to go fuck yourself if you don't like
it. I'm referring to the serious BDSM crowd.

These kinds of musings get complicated because I don't like to judge
others, so I'll drop it. Oh, Danny's back from his shower. I hear him
bitching about his hangover with a couple of guys in the hall. He comes
inside shaking his head, mumbling, "Dylan, I swear as God is my witness I'm
never drinking shots again the rest of my life... not if I live to be two
hundred." Sure! I've heard versions of that bullshit before. I say, "Don't
delude yourself about that. Hey, I'm pissed off about you smacking my ass!
Just so you know, I did not appreciate that one fucking bit! And did I
mention... fuck your hangover!"

He looks startled and then says, "Well fuck you too then. And, chill
out..." Yeah, well I didn't mean to yell that loud but I continue my rant
anyway, saying, "I'll chill out when you tell me what the hell you were
thinking." He shrugs and makes that face like he's in pain, whining, "I
thought Rob told me, um, I mean I thought you liked it rough and I forgot
to smack your ass before we fucked, so... can't we just forget it for now?
Gawd, I feel like shit again."

Oh man, I can't work up any more anger because he's still seriously hurting
with his hangover. Anyway, it was apparently just as I thought... an honest
mistake with Danny thinking he was doing the right thing. I've been there
in hangover-misery myself... you can feel really good during sex, but then
BAM, reality overwhelms you as soon as the sex is over. Hangovers are
killers but yet we forget that and do it all over again a week later.

Danny's looking for sympathy, mumbling, "I don't feel good, Dylan." I go,
"Sorry about that but I just wanted to let you know Rob gave you outdated
information regarding that spanking situation." He waves a hand nodding his
head, muttering, "Okay, okay already. I got it... no spanking. Jeezusss!"
Oh man, the difference in Danny's demeanor from when he left the room and
now is startling.

After draping his towel and a washcloth on the back of the desk chair, he
puts a couple of toilet articles on the desk and then pulls on a pair of
jockey shorts. Looking at me, he takes a deep breath and says, "If you'll
get off the bed I'll try cleaning you up a little," and he picks up the wet
washcloth that he just laid down. Oh, cleaning his cum off my ass, that's a
nice gesture!

Getting off the bed, I'm muttering, "Sorry I made such a big deal about you
smacking my ass but I felt I needed to set the record straight for future,
um..." He isn't listening, saying, "Turn around, please," and when I do he
begins wiping my ass and the inside of my legs as I mutter, "Have you at
least taken Advil or Tylenol for your headache?" He goes, "My head isn't
too bad. It's more a general overall feeling of BLAH, plus my stomach
hurts, ya know?" I go, "Yeah, sort of. You need lots of fluids and more
rest. Fluids, pain relievers, rest, and the passage of time; that's the
only cure for hangovers."

Few things are worse than a wicked-bad hangover. Self-inflicted misery, ya
know? Been there, done that so I have compassion. It is a pain in the ass
though dealing with hungover guys.

When Danny finishes his feeble attempt at wiping his cum off my ass and
legs, he pulls the damp towel off the back of the chair and hands it to me,
mumbling, "Dry yourself while I wipe your cum off the headboard and," he
looks at it, and mutters, "Jesus, you're like a gusher, Dylan. That's a lot
of spunk." I go, "Um, I guess. Oh, and there's more on the nightstand's
drawer, plus Specks', um, bedspread too." Danny looks over, asking,
"Where," and I mumble," Um, on the side of Specks' bedspread and the front
of the nightstand. Maybe a few drops on top of the bedspread too." He
mutters, "Wow. Damn, man..."

He halfheartedly swipes at the headboard and I go, "Here, give me the damn
washcloth. I'll do that myself...  you lay down." No argument from
Danny. He murmurs, "Thanks," and hands me the washcloth and then crawls in
bed. As I'm cleaning my mess, I ask, "Is it okay if I take a quick shower
before we leave?" He mutters, "No, don't do that. I just took one." I'm
like, "Don't tell me you're still worried guys will see me and think you're
gay. That's absurd." He shrugs, "Yeah, but you're not my roommate, so they
might... oh, fuck it. I don't give a shit anymore. Go ahead and take a
shower if you want." Grumpy!

Finished cleaning spunk off wherever I see it, I drop the washcloth on a
pile of clothes on the floor. After seeing Danny's neat bedroom at his
house I gotta wonder why he's such a slob at college. Not that I care all
that much.

Danny's eyes are closed but I can tell he's awake, so I ask, "Do you have
another towel? This one is, um..." Without opening his eyes, he says, "Of
course I have other towels! I haven't unpacked everything yet, but there
are a couple of towels in one of the duffle bags in the closet." Looking in
the closet I see it's packed full of his and his roommate's stuff. Fuck
that, so I pick up the damp towel he used and his bar of soap, and start to
leave, but stop. Hmm, looking at clothes hanging out of Danny's bureau
drawers, I go over and pick up a pair of his clean jockey shorts to bring
with me.

Opening the door... and, oh balls! There are guys in the hall but luckily
the guy who yelled at me yesterday isn't one of them. No one pays much
attention to me as I walk down past them to the lavatory. A couple of guys
nod their heads, muttering, "How's it going?" or just mutter, "Dude."
Nothing that requires more than a half smile and nod of my head. Then
inside the lavatory, there are two guys at the urinals arguing about Tom
Brady versus Jimmy Garoppolo but no one is taking a shower. I make it a
quick shower and I'm drying myself in less than five minutes. Danny's damp
towel isn't cutting it so I don't get very dry. Huh, I'm wondering if this
is the same towel I used yesterday.

Plus, I don't know why I bought the clean underpants with me because I
can't get dry enough to wear them. Wrapping the towel around my waist I
carry my underwear and Danny's clean pair, plus his soap back to the
room. When I'm just about to open Danny's door, a guy goes, "Hey, excuse
me." Oh, fuck! I stop and he goes, "You're Monday's roommate, right? I'm
Steve Billingsley," and he holds out his hand. I shake it, saying, "No, I'm
not his... um, I'm just visiting. His roommate is in Worcester for the
weekend." This nice average-looking guy, says, "Oh, my mistake. Nice to
meet you though."

Safely back in the room, I decide not to tell Danny about meeting that guy
because he'll be worried everyone on the floor is now whispering, 'Monday's
a queer because someone he knows, who isn't his roommate, took a
shower'. Idiotic of Danny, but there's no explaining paranoia. I never even
told that guy, what's-his-name, my name, which actually wasn't too cool of
me.

After walking around the room naked, air drying myself for a few minutes, I
put Danny's jockey shorts on and then the cargo shorts and the same t-shirt
I was wearing when I got here. Stepping into my sandals I glance over at
Danny and see he's now sleeping soundly. Damn, he's a nice looking boy, er,
I mean young man.

Danny's good-looking in a different way than Rob is. They don't look any
more alike than Rob and I do. None of the three of us look alike but there
are lots of ways to be nice looking. For instance, Danny's still got more
'cute' in him than anyone I know his age, except possibly me. Hahaha! No,
I'm just going by what people tell me, I don't see it in myself... no,
really I don't!

I adjust the covers over Danny and then finger comb his hair off his
forehead. I still haven't given him a haircut. Then, with nothing better to
do, I sit at his desk fucking around with his laptop trying to guess his
password. I know his middle name is 'Ray'. Yes, just Ray, not Raymond. It's
his Mom's maiden name although it's not his password; too short for one
thing. I try 'baseball' and other words related to sports and then his
computer gives the clue 'uranium', Fuck that, I give up. Oh wait, I'll bet
his password is the name of his dog that died. Of course, I can't remember
the name of the poor dog. Oh well, I don't want to invade Danny's privacy
anyway. Just tried to guess his password for the hell of it.

On his desk, there are a couple of the same Sports Illustrated magazines
Carl and I were looking through when we got our haircuts so I flick through
one of them again... just killing time. Giving up on that I lie on Specks'
bed with my hands behind my head thinking about the differences between Rob
and Danny. Sports, of course, is what they mostly have in common; that,
plus they're gay. And they're both exceptionally attractive guys too, plus
approximately the same size and age... and they've both known they were gay
from early in puberty. Well, heh heh, in one area they're almost the same
as far as 'bulk' goes. I mean, ounce for ounce their penises are probably
in the same ballpark... weight-wise. One of their penises is simply
proportioned more along the lines of, well, um, a normal penis. The other
one has an almost freakish circumference and is shorter than the norm. Four
inches, or a little longer when hard is below average, not that it
matters. And then Danny's dick is like mine... almost perfect, haha!

Yeah, but all of that represents what they have in common, not their
differences! I suppose the real differences are personality driven. Danny's
all about goofy fun where Rob tends toward seeing the overly serious side
of every-fucking-thing you can think of. I would have said Rob's more
conscientious until I learned recently about Danny's conscientious
preparations for his career after college. Obviously, Rob's more mature
than Danny. Well hell, Rob's more mature, or at least serious, about work
and, well, everything more than most guys our age; especially college guys
our age. College guys tend to retain their immature boyishness even as
their appearances continue to look less boyish by the minute. Some of the
pranks and shit college students do, male and female, would be considered
immature for high school students. It's that freedom thing of being on our
own at last... away from parental annoyances so we can show how stupid they
really are; us college students, not the parents.

Danny's more like me in that, while we're more mature than we used to be,
it's not like being mature is our number one priority in life. We're not
trying to prove anything to anybody. Being ourselves is more important than
seeing how mature we can be, boringly mature. Well then, I guess I'd have
to say Rob's being himself too. Being more mature is being himself, and
he's not boring... so it's a wash in that regard. And why in the fuck am I
doing this comparison in the first place?

Looking over at Danny, heh heh, I'd like to jump his bones and I probably
would if he felt better. Damn though, he fucks good! Jeez, it's really cool
being able to openly stare at him like this. I lean over looking closely at
Danny's relaxed face. Awesome looking face and without a single
blemish. Most guys have a pimple on their chin or the remains of one, yeah
even at our age. A razor cut maybe or some kind of imperfection, but
nothing like that on Danny's clear complexion. And look at the sexy lips on
that boy! Jesus!

I get off the bed and look around for a mirror but the only mirror in this
room is put away in the barbering satchel and I'm not dragging that
out. It's not important anyway. I just wanted to check out my lips and
compare them to Danny's. Huh, was someone just talking about being
immature? Hahaha!

Danny makes a sound so I look over at him again and watch him open his
eyes. He smiles a little smile, murmuring, "Fuck, it's so cool seeing you
when I wake up, Dylan." I chuckle, saying, "Yeah, it probably is," and he
snickers, mumbling, "Conceited much?" Sitting up he coughs and then asks,
"What time is it, babe?" Checking my watch, I tell him, "It's
two-forty-five. We better get going, dude." He throws the covers off him
and then slides off the side of the bed and stands with his arms and legs
spread wide, stretching. He's in a spread-eagle pose like Leonardo's
drawing... Vitruvian Man.

He must be feeling better as he's grinning and asking, "How about this body
on me, huh?" Well yeah, he's got a hot body for sure but mostly it's
Nature's gift via his parent's genes. Danny's enhanced it some by
working-out with weights and whatever. I go, "Yeah, you be a hot boy with a
super hot bod, son! Hey, that's one of the reasons I've got this major
crush on you." He goes, "That so-called crush is just a start, Dylan! I'm
gonna change your crush into something more meaningful, you'll see."

I don't have the energy to get into that discussion so I simply say, "Get
dressed and let's go, okay?" He nods his head and as he's putting clothes
on, he says, "I've gotta get something to eat... and I'm frickin' dying of
thirst too. This is the first time today I've felt hungry, but even as
hungry as I am I'm thinking soup is probably what I should have. What do
you think? I mean, my stomach's still fucked up." I go, "I'm not familiar
with that esoteric medical term, fucked-up-stomach, but soup sounds like a
smart choice. Replace those fluids."

When he's dressed, he asks, "Um, it's up to you, but do you want me to do
something with your hair? It's, um, sticking every which way." My hand goes
to my head and I feel that it's a mess. After rubbing my head with the damp
towel, my hair dried in whatever condition the towel left it in. There's no
mirror in the room so I couldn't check myself out. I mumble, "You need to
get a mirror in here, bro. Yeah, fix my hair for me... thanks."

Sitting in the desk chair I watch Danny plug in his hairdryer and get the
hairspray. I go, "No hairspray," and he mutters, "Okay, I'll use some of
Specks' hair gel. Is that alright?" I go, "Yeah, but use as little as
possible." He goes over to his roommate's small bureau and grabs a tube of
something. I go, "That's not the sex lube is it?" He laughs, "Nope," and
squeezes some hair gel on his fingers and then rubs his fingers back
through my short hair, saying, "I'll brush it down on top the way you
want."

I'll be damned, that's awesome of Danny! I mumble, "Thanks, buddy," and
then see his disappointed expression and feel kinda bad for him, so I go,
"Ya know what? Brush it up in a flattop instead, okay? I kinda like it." Oh
fuck, his big smile makes it worth it... and the flattop doesn't look bad,
not at all. Plus I saw two guys in the hall with versions of a flattop so I
feel better about it now. I don't know who the fuck the guys in the hall
are, but they're my peers so they count. I'll bet anything that now that
I'm looking for it I'll see other flattop-versions of haircuts on guys
around campus. Neither the guy or the barber who cut his hair would call it
a 'flattop' but it sort of looks like one. Like the Red Sox's
J.D. Martinez's hair. Anyway, most guys don't know shit about
hairstyles. It's as simple as this: whatever their peers' haircut is,
that's what they think they should get.

Danny brushes my hairs up as he blows it dry with the hairdryer. It takes
less than a minute and then he just nods and smiles at me. He's too smart
to push it by saying anything like, 'Admit it, babe, I was right' or
something like that. He knows I did it for him and it's not permanent, but
we formed sort of a bond today, so ya know... He merely says, "Okay, let's
go."

Danny checks to be sure he has his keys, cell phone, and whatever and then
asks me, "Where can I get soup?" I go, "Bertucci's," and he says, "Yes,
minestrone soup! Ya wanna go there?" I nod, "Yeah, I haven't had hardly
anything to eat all day myself." And that's where we go. We can't go to the
dining hall because it's not open at this odd hour and I don't have a meal
card anyway. Danny follows as I'm driving the pickup and he's driving his
Mom's car. It's like a four-minute drive from Merrimack to Bertucci's
restaurant.

There's hardly anyone in Bertucci's at this time of the day although they
serve food straight through from eleven in the morning until ten at
night. We get fast service too and that's a first for Bertucci's. Danny
drinks two big glasses of iced tea and both bowls of the soup he ordered,
plus the rolls and salad that come with the meal. I have an iced tea, some
salad, plus a personal sized way-over-priced pizza. We both say we feel
better as we drop money on the table splitting the bill.

Danny's gonna be the lead driver on our trip to Framingham because he knows
how to get to his house using a shortcut off Route 9. At this time of the
day on a Sunday afternoon, the traffic is not a problem and I pull into
Danny's driveway to park behind his car exactly fifty minutes after leaving
Bertucci's. He gets out and waves at me, saying, "C'mon in, Dylan. Nobody's
home. Mom's at Grandma's again." Getting out of the pickup, I'm like, "Oh,
your Mom goes over there every Sunday, huh?" He shakes his head, "Nah, but
it's her hip again. Grandma's broken hip is driving everyone batty. Grandma
Rose is not a good patient."

I follow him inside his house, asking him, "Do you need to take a piss? I
sure do." Danny snickers, "You're damn right I need to take a piss. Between
those two large iced teas and two big bowls of soup, I must have put two
quarts of liquid, oops, I mean fluids as you call it, in my stomach." I
follow him into the half-bath in the hall and we stand next to each other
pissing. He goes, "How about if you hold mine and I hold yours?" I say,
"Yeah, brilliant idea," but we both know we're kidding."

We wash our hands and faces with Danny saying, "Bro, I'm feeling noticeably
better. Do you wanna do it with me in my bed?" I go, "Yeah, okay," and he
takes my hand, mumbling, "Well, c'mon then," and leads me to his bedroom
with neither of us saying anything. I think we both know this is way
overdoing a good thing. Yeah, we both know that somewhere in our brains,
but neither of us says it as we watch one another get undressed.

Oh fuck, when we're naked and Danny steps right in front of me I can't
catch my breath. I really like the way he's always the aggressor, the one
taking charge. He wraps his arms around me pinning my arms to my sides and
hugs me against his naked body swaying us a little bit side to side as he
snuggles his face at the side of my neck kissing and licking and murmuring,
"I could just eat you up, Dylan," and then his head pulls up and his lips
are on mine.

In thirty seconds we both have hard boners. It's the most wonderful thing
in the world to be young with sexual appetites and stamina like ours, or
how do I know, maybe older guys have this kind of sexual appetite and
stamina too. Why would I assume they don't?

Danny and I make-out standing next to his bed, both of us as naked as it's
possible to be. I wonder if I'll ever get tired of feeling a young hot sexy
male body against mine? My hands are all over the parts of Danny's body I
can reach as he pushes his leg is in between mine making me inhale and then
gasp at how he's already in control of me. Oh, how sweet this submissive
sense feels as it flows all over me and I moan quietly in my
throat. Danny's hand at the back of my head keeping my face against his as
he does a long version of his magically sexy kiss with his tongue in my
mouth. Our hard cocks bump together as we move smoothly in some kind of
sexual dance that's maybe in our genes. I don't know, but we move together
awfully well without being the least bit clumsy about it. It all feels
smooth and deliciously sexy but then I have a 'thing' for hot uber
good-looking guys around my own age... Danny being a poster child for that
description.

When I think I'll pass out from lack of oxygen we both almost
simultaneously pull our mouths away from one another gasping in big gulps
of air. The sides of our faces slide together now, his hand still on the
back of my head and every part of our bodies touching; our boners up tight
between our bellies. Danny murmurs, "Relax." I am relaxed but I try
slumping against him and two seconds later he murmurs, "Relax even more,
baby. I got this," and then he does subtle humps against my crotch as
pre-cum drools from my hard boner.

Danny gives my mouth another one of his luscious kisses and it's a good
thing he has his hand behind my head because I couldn't be more relaxed now
and I'm not sure my head would stay in place for that latest kiss. What an
incredibly awesome 'make-out' he is. And another thing... the more times
we're intimate the more familiar his personal scent becomes and the more
noticeable too. It's so pleasant but yet sexy too. Pulling his head back to
look me in the eyes, he murmurs," I love you," and he grins before saying,
"Let's get in my bed now, okay?" I nod and he keeps an arm around my waist
as he pulls the covers down further on his unmade bed and then has me get
in first. He gets in right behind me and on top of me humping against my
hard boner as my arms go tightly around the back of his neck.

We're in each other's arms again as I come out of my trance a little
because soon we're making out like crazy, rolling around on his double bed
with me on top and then Danny back on top of me, both our boners leaking
pre-cum leaving sticky wet streaks on our bodies. A few minutes of that
with my fingers in his hair pulling it, both of us making quiet moaning
sounds in our throats, deep into sexual heat and desire... yeah, it's as if
neither of us has had sex all day.

Danny finally murmurs, "Oh God, Dylan, I need to fuck you now. Do you mind
getting up on your side? I like doing it with you like that because our
bodies are together head to foot and I can hug you as I fuck your perfect
ass." My eyes are half closed as I'm feeling dreamily sexy and
submissive. I barely nod my head and roll up on my side, my back to
Danny. His right arm immediately goes over me with his hand on my chest,
his fingers spread. A finger plays with my nip ring as he's holding my back
against his taut chest. His other hand gently pokes a finger inside my ass
and then he murmurs, "I wanted to be sure there's enough lube still up
there." I sigh, feeling spectacularly good. This is exactly the way I like
it; my 'top' confidently taking care of everything.

He murmurs, "Yeah, there's enough. Listen, if it hurts I'll get my lube,
okay?" Stop talking! I don't say that of course and I'm not sure I could
without screwing up my latest beautiful trance. Instead, I barely nod my
head again and he whispers, "You're so cooperative. I love that about
you... um, among many other things," and he kisses the side of my neck and
licks there and then says, "You smell so fucking, um, good or sexy,
or... fuck, I can't describe it."

I feel the head of his very hard boner at my asshole now. It feels
different without the slippery lube on it but he presses it in gently and
as it goes in a little I sense it picking up some slipperiness. Obviously,
just taking a shower doesn't clean out a person's rectum.

Danny's making his panting-breathing sounds again, his mouth not far from
my right ear. Neither of us is saying anything now as he slowly presses his
hard almost perfect boner up my ass. No words, just quiet sounds, 'Ummmmm,"
from me and, "Ooooooh," from Danny. Our sounds of sexual arousal are so
quietly moaned I'm not sure if I'm actually hearing the sounds or if
they're in my mind.

Feeling his boner moving up inside me, sliding tightly but smoothly through
the leftover random cum and lube from earlier gets me gasping and
shuddering. No matter how many times I experience this it always seems
new. Danny continues making that noisy breathing sound as he pushes his
cock up my ass until he's tight against me, his groin pressing against my
buttocks. He gasps in some oxygen and then whispers, "Ummm, this feels so
good, baby," and he rubs the side of his face against the side of mine;
actually it's mostly against my ear. I shiver deliciously.

His left arm goes under the side of my neck and then in front to hold my
head back sort of under his head. His other hand, the one he had on my
chest slides down to my stomach and then to my groin where he wraps his
hand around my hard cock. Oh, that feels good! I moan, Ahhh, oooh,
Danny..."

He pulls my boner away from my belly until it's straight out from my body
making me shudder and then shudder again as he begins stroking it. Stroke,
stroke, stroke and then he begins pulling his hips back until he's
retracted his boner almost entirely. It's the way he normally does it,
pulling his boner back until the lips of my anus are stretched outward and
I think the head is going to come completely out. It makes me tighten every
muscle in my ass and he grunts, "Ummm, that's good, baby. Tighten it up..."
I do that with sweat popping out on my forehead and then the six-plus
inches of swollen hard cock slides tightly all the way back up my ass and I
let out a long moan of pleasure, "Ahhhhh, oooh, yeaaaah...".

Omigod, the hard swollen head of his boner expands my rectum's walls inch
by inch as it moves up inside me while the incredibly hard shaft rubs
tightly against my prostate and just as tightly past the stretched lips of
my asshole with the nerve endings there sparkling almost like an itch that
his moving boner scratches in such a delicious way I suck air in between
closed teeth with my body clenching and I shudder for the third time
against Danny's body. He holds me tighter, murmuring, "Ummm, feels good,
huh?"

My left arm is on the bed next to me... I'm comfortable lying on my left
side with my right arm back over Danny's side, my hand on his right butt
cheek. My hand holds on to his butt cheek going along for the ride as his
hips move to and fro thrusting his cock back and forth in my ass in a lazy
steady rhythm he established from the start. Everything is repeated at the
same speed; a speed that's much slower than any of our earlier fucks. It's
tantalizing and gives me repeated shivers all over, plus there's that
constant worry that the distended lips of my asshole needing to hold his
fabulous cock inside me as he exerts pressure to almost pull it
out. Getting me to tighten every muscle I have squeezing his boner is
almost certainly why he does it like that. He murmurs, "Don't let me get
out, baby," and, Omigod, awesome sensations buzzing all around my pelvic
area, constant sexy buzzing with zipping sensations that keep me gasping
and moaning with pleasure. And then here comes the almost instantaneous
thrust of his hard boner going back up my ass again. This is repeated over
and over sensitizing every nerve ending his hard cock touches until I'm
floating in sexual ecstasy.

Danny and I are so tightly together when his boner is fully up my ass it's
like we're one person and then we're not as his hips pull away from me
momentarily and then we're tight together again with that sliding bonder of
his moving back up my ass... on and on it goes until it all feels like a
single motion. Our constant quiet moans of mutual pleasure add to the
experience and soon we're floating above the bed in my head.

There are no body-slapping sounds of fucking, just Danny's nonstop moving
pleasure-rod and his hand stroking my incredibly hard sensitive boner. His
hard cock has to be at least as sensitive as mine as it goes up inside me
for the fiftieth time and it's so 'sweet' so 'sick' the pleasure seemingly
growing more intense with each slow thrust. My rectum literally is
vibrating with sexual pleasure that never lets up and only gets
better. Danny's arm never loosening around me, his face against the side of
mine. Time moves as slowly as Danny's boner and I get deeply into the best
dreamy trance I've experienced in a while and one that seemingly may
continue forever.

As I've thought many times, there is no way to describe this kind of
pleasure, this sexual pleasure that encompasses my whole body from head to
toe. It simply can't be described and the epicenter of that pleasure is
glowing. Yeah, my groin and rectum are swollen and glowing with sexual
pleasure as waves of it flow out sharing the magic with the rest of me.

When I feel an orgasm ignite and my pre-cum drools onto Danny's fingers he
stops stroking my boner and then stops moving his hips. He waits for both
our body's natural inclinations to subside. We still say nothing as Danny
waits and gently humps against my buttocks snuggling his face against the
side of my neck kissing there in between doing long licks that reactivate
shivers and goosebumps all over me. I cringe and shudder causing him to
tighten his hold and kiss me again as he makes quiet sounds of arousal. My
cock is so hard I'm afraid the head will split, or my foreskin will
rip. Intense hardness as it throbs with pleasure in Danny's tight fist even
as his swollen boner seems to be throbbing in my ass.

I can't even moan by now because all my senses are concentrated on the
sensations coming off a million nerve endings doing their wonderful jobs;
too many pleasure points at the same time to fully appreciate all of
them... but I try just the same. When Danny's hand begins stroking up and
down on my cock again and his hips begin moving in time with his stroking
we're off on our magic carpet ride again and up, up, up we go on a trip
into a world of our own.

We're approaching the inevitable intensely overwhelming part of our trip
and we both know how it ends. What I don't know is how long it goes on
before it's too much to bear and then that's exactly what happens as I feel
my climax ignite for real this time and begin building and soon I
desperately need to let it go all the way to the stars, so I moan, "I need
to cum, Danny." My buddy sex partner, the one doing lover's sex at the
moment, must be getting the same signals from his brain that the end of the
line is near, and he murmurs, "Me too, babe."

Danny probably can't help himself by now and I'm glad because I'm beginning
to whine with desire for my climax to burst on the scene as I struggle in
the hold he has on me. He gasps, "Okay," and picks up the speed of his
thrusting and soon his body is slapping against my buttocks hard as the,
"Slap slap slap," sounds are finally heard and they're picking up speed as
Danny get desperate with his thrusting. His hard thrusting gets me to roll
forward on my stomach and Danny, grunting and moaning is right behind me
between my legs. He moved fast and smooth as a cat, still slamming his
boner up my ass going, 'Ah, ah, ah, ahhhh!" as he climaxes and I do too
seeing flying sparks in front of my eyes and then my toes curl with my
squeal... "EIEEEE! OOOOOH!"

Cum gushing out my boner that's now squished up against my belly so the cum
has no place to go except on me and the sheet I'm lying on. It warmly and
creamily wets my belly and then another stream squeezes out from my cock
and I moan into the pillow, my face pressed there when I rolled onto my
stomach. I lie here shuddering with the pleasure of it all... and then
another shudder. Oh man, that was a fantastic orgasm... and I think about
that as it fades away.

It's so calm now, so nice. I move my face to the side and Danny slides off
me pulling his cock from my ass for the fourth time today. I'm not sure
what I think of all this. Oh, the sex was fabulous but it's the meaning
behind it that I'm wondering about. Obviously, that wasn't any form of
buddy sex I'm familiar with. Danny wanted to do intimate lover's sex,
obviously, and I'm wondering if I should have objected in some way. How I
might have gone about doing that without being a total dick though I can't
imagine. The other thing is I didn't even think of objecting to it, not
until right now. It felt too good and anyway, what's the harm if it's
one-way lover's sex. If there is such a thing as one-way lover's sex...

Balls, leave it to me to ruin a perfectly excellent sex act by
overanalyzing it. Danny's right next to me on his back, still not
talking. I'm on my stomach not saying anything either. One of us should say
something though. Maybe something like: 'What the fuck was that?' and then
chuckle and admit we got carried away, or some such shit that brings buddy
sex into the picture. It should be Danny though because he initiated
everything, right? I mean, I went along with it but then what could I do
once we got into it?

A sigh from Danny and then another sigh as he rubs his face with both
hands. Then he says, "Oh man. Whew, we had ourselves some hot sex today,
huh, buddy." Excellent comment! Just the right tone and even included the
word 'buddy'! Way to go Danny! He turns his head to look at me, asking,
"You okay there, buddy?" Hmmm, maybe he's overdoing it now with the 'buddy'
word... or is he making fun of me? I go, "I'm beat actually, buddy!
Pleasantly beat though... and feeling good 'cause you are an excellent
buddy sex partner... that's what you are, Daniel Ray Monday."

Danny says, "You too, and you're looking good too if you don't mind me
saying so." I chuckle, and say, "Never mind that, I think maybe I need to
see a proctologist and get checked out about the possibility I'm overusing
my ass. Or somebody is overusing it." He laughs and sits up, saying,
"Whoowee, quite a day... and guess what?" I go, "What?" He says, "I think
that soup straightened out my stomach and cured the last part of my
hangover." Sitting up, I mutter, "No shit? The soup, huh?" He laughs again
and says, "You didn't spunk on my bed, did you?" I go, "Uh huh," and he
goes, 'OH NO!"

Snickering, we both get off the bed and after Danny does a few cursory
swipes at my ass with a handful of tissues, we start putting our clothes
back on with me asking, "So, minestrone soup cures hangovers, huh?" When
we're both dressed, Danny goes, "Hey, would you help me look for my new
iPad? Mom's boyfriend gave it to me as a back-to-college gift or some such
shit. Sucking up to me since I am his girlfriend's beloved son and
therefore he needs to get on my good side." I'm like, "Your Mom's got a
boyfriend now, huh?" He shrugs, "A guy-friend, yeah. He's like fifty years
old and bald already but he tries to be nice to me when he sees me." To
appear interested, I ask, "What's this bald-headed guy do?" Danny mumbles,
"Oh, he manages the Apple Store at the Natick Mall, I think he's the
manager. Anyway, he probably didn't need to pay for the iPad."

He's going through every drawer in his desk, mumbling, "Where did I put
that damn iPad?" I'm walking around his bedroom looking but there are no
clothes on the floor to look under. Danny slams a drawer, asking, "Would
you look in the closet for me, babe. The iPad is still in its cool
high-gloss white box like everything from Apple comes in. I meant to bring
it with me, but..."

I open the closet door and make a face, immediately closing it. I go, "No
way to find anything in here, it's too neat to disturb anything..." and
Danny goes, "I got it!" as he gets up off his hands and knees grinning, and
then he adds, "The fucker was under my bed!" He opens the box and pulls out
the cool-looking iPad, saying, "Ya know, I told you about the money I've
saved for a car, right? Well, I was thinking I'd maybe use some of that
money to buy one of these babies and I asked Artie, that's my Mom's guy,
how much the version 6 iPads cost and the next thing I know he gives me
one." Nodding, I ask, "What specifically did you want it for? Something
college related?" He goes, "Yeah, of course... well not really, but that's
what I told him. This iPad version 6 is a powerful motherfucker; a computer
actually. It's awesome for graphics-intensive games... mind-blowingly
awesome games! Carl and I have a mutual interest in graphic-intensive
games." That's his roommate Carl, or Specks. I think that's the Carl he
means.

Danny spouts out the names of a couple of games that I've never heard of
but then I'm not a 'games' enthusiast anyway. I mutter, "You and Carl you
said. You don't mean Rob's Carl, the kid he's mentoring?" He shakes his
head as he puts the iPad back in the box, and says, "No, Carl Hill, my
roommate... Specks." I nod, "Oh, yeah, Specks. That's who I thought you
meant." Danny smiles at me and then gets his arm around the back of my neck
pulling my head to his like he does quite often. With his nose touching
mine, our eyes crossing, he asks, "We're good, right? You and me." I go,
"Good as gold," and he kisses my forehead for like five seconds and then
lets go of me, saying, "Let's get a Dairy Queen... if you want to." I go,
"Yeah, I do."

His Mom's car is left behind in the driveway as I drive us in the pickup to
the Dairy Queen in Natick. On the way, I expect Danny to say something more
about that lover's style sex he initiated and controlled, maybe explain
what that was all about. He doesn't mention it though. He also doesn't
mention him saying he loves me. I assume he meant as a buddy sex
partner. Instead, he talks about, what else, Merrimack's baseball
team. Actually, it's sort of a relief to listen to what for me is harmless
jabbering. I smile and nod my head as though I'm paying attention.

I know I shouldn't ignore Danny's newfound affection for me as demonstrated
by the lover's sex we did fifteen minutes ago, but like I do with a lot of
things, I'm happy to put off a discussion about it until some later
time. Occasionally you need to procrastinate for mental health reasons. The
other thing is, I don't know what the fuck to do or say about it anyway. I
remember having a thought near the end of last summer, and it's this: 'What
am I going to do about Danny Monday?' That was in reference to the 'hots' I
felt for him at that time. I didn't do anything about it then... and here
we are now. By not doing anything I guess I concluded there wasn't anything
that needed to be done about it... so maybe that conclusion is still a
valid one. Probably not though.

At the Dairy Queen, of course Danny runs into someone he knows. An okay
looking guy with his girlfriend. There are quick introductions but I
immediate forget their names. Danny, as usual, has his arm casually around
my shoulders. He and Scott, yeah that's his name, Scott, talk about the
homeroom experiences they had together in high school. They reminisce and
laugh for a few minutes as I listen and pretend it's funny stuff.

And then Scott's girlfriend, who seems nice, asks me, "I've been trying to
place you, Dylan. Aren't you, um, good friends with Rob Dickers?" I go,
"Yes, we're very good friends," and she glances at Danny for a split second
and then back at me, asking, "Still good friends with him, are you? You and
Dickers?" I nod, knowing what she's alluding to as I mumble, "Yeah, why?"
but Scott interrupts, saying, "Sue and I need to take off now, Danny. We'll
be late for dinner at the girlfriend's house... heh heh," and he hugs his
girlfriend who makes a 'face'. The guy says, "Nice seeing you again,
Monday! You and your, um, friend there. Dylan, was it? Anyway, you two
enjoy yourselves. Everyone should," and he smirks at his girlfriend as she
wiggles her fingers in kind of a wave 'goodbye'.

Danny nods his head, saying, "Thanks, dude... you guys have fun too. Good
to see you, Sue." As we turn away, Danny says to me, "Oh man, Scott and I
would get in a giggle fit in homeroom and we couldn't stop for like ten
minutes. Fuck, we were like two ten-year-old girls. That fucker is funny!"
I go, "Huh," and he asks, "What kind of soft serve are you gonna get? I'm
buying, babe, so go big... haha." I'm looking back at Scott and the girl
walking away and then back at Danny, asking, "Didn't you think what he said
as they were leaving was a little odd?" We're walking to the window in the
front of the Dairy Queen where there's a girl taking orders. Danny still
has his arm around my shoulders as he asks, "Odd? Whaddaya mean?"

Realizing that naive Danny didn't pick up on the innuendo of Scott's snarky
comments, I go, "Oh nothing. Um, except I thought he was implying
something, but I guess not." Danny stops and asks, "What are you saying?" I
shake my head, "Nothing, Danny, forget it. Um, I'm gonna get a strawberry
sundae. They use frozen strawberries and when those babies are defrosted
there's the most awesome uber sweet strawberry juice that goes fantastic
with vanilla soft-serve ice cream." Danny goes, "Yeah, you're right, but
I'm getting the hot fudge sundae this time... a large one!" And that's what
we do.

It's getting chilly this late in the afternoon so we eat the sundaes in the
pickup with the motor running and the heater on as we listen to the first
quarter of the Pats football game on the radio. They're playing the Rams on
the west coast. Done the ice cream sundaes, I thank Danny again for
treating and then I drive us back to college still listening to the game
without us saying two words the whole way. I feel comfortable with us not
talking, and that's a first with Danny. When I glance over at him he just
gives me a grin and pats my leg.

Actually, I'm glad that Danny doesn't mention our sexy afternoon or our
relationship, such as he perceives it. And, I think one of the reasons he's
quiet is he was premature in his assumption he was cured of his
hangover. He's looking like he could use more rest and his eyes almost
close a couple of times during the ride. Ya don't get over a hangover like
his in one afternoon no matter how much sex you have.

When I pull onto the campus after an uneventful trip from Natick it's
almost six o'clock, so I ask Danny, "Do you have plans for dinner?" He nods
his head and sleepily says, "Yeah, I'm going to start getting to know Carl
better, er, know Specks better. That's what he wants me to call him. We're
eating in the dining hall, supposedly at six o'clock." I mumble, "It's
almost six now." He nods and gets out of the pickup, saying, "Thanks a lot
for driving today, Dylan. Actually, thank you for everything today! You're
a very special friend, er, buddy. See ya tomorrow," and we bump fist as I
say, "Well, thank you, buddy!" He has a smile on his face and then turns
around and walks down dormitory row without looking back. Wow, what an
afternoon!

Driving off campus I wiggle on the seat to see if my ass is sore, but it's
good. Guess I won't need to see the proctologist after all... haha! Parking
in the only open spot on the fucking parking lot. It's as far from the
front door to our apartment building as it's possible to be and still be in
the same parking lot. I get out and slam the pickup's door, muttering,
"Please, not the parking space problem this year too! I can never find a
close parking spot.

For the first time all afternoon I wonder if Rob's recovered from his
hangover. His hangover had to be as bad as Danny's, at least as bad. Hmmm,
the Dairy Queen was a good idea because I can throw that in as sort of an
explanation of why it took over six hours to do less than a two-hour
chore. Not that I need to explain myself but it's simple politeness to say
what took me so long. On the other hand, Rob never texted wondering where I
was. Probably he was feeling too lousy and was happy for the peace and
quiet to just sleep on and off all afternoon. That's what I'd want to do if
I was suffering his condition.

Using my key to get in the front door of the building I then walk up the
steps and, yeah I guess I'm little guilty about how awesomely good I'm
feeling right now. There's no reason to feel guilty though. Christ, it was
Rob's and Danny's idea that the three of us, plus Hayden, have this tight
little gay group we could have buddy sex with... keeping it in the family
so to speak. I was the dubious one at first and that's probably because I
wasn't getting much at all from either Danny or Hayden. When one or the
other of them did get it on with me though, I'd tell myself it was worth
the wait and what a good idea it was, etc. etc... Haha. And now that's it's
led to this thing with Danny, the original idea has gone up in my mind to
qualify as a spectacular concept! But, it was their idea originally, not
mine... that's all I'm saying!

Yeah, I love gay sex and I did from the very first-time fat Carl forced it
on me. Huh, can I believe there's the original 'Carl' in the mix? The name
'Carl' I mean. It's been quite a while since that 'Carl', fat Carl, popped
up in my head. Thanks to him though a whole new world of pleasure opened up
to me and I've been making the most of it ever since; maybe subconsciously
trying to catch up for the years I was gay but too obtuse to know it. All
my embarrassing messing around with Chubby as a teenager, him accommodating
my feeble attempts to fulfill my unconscious urges are, yes, uber
embarrassing to think back on it now. I can see now that he went along with
me, looking out for me and trying to help me see who I am. All that
misguided attention to my brother could have been spread much more
appropriately over gay teens instead of making my brother suffer through
it. Water over the damn now though.

Anyway, I gotta say that was really, really good sex Danny laid on me
today. And... four times! Damn, it's been a long while since that's
happened! Danny's turned the tables on me... now it's him that has the
'crush' on me. Yeah, that's what all his extra affection is basically
about... a crush. I've been making it into something it's not. Hell, he put
up with my so-called crush on him all summer and I've been making a
mountain out of a molehill about his increased affection when it's just a
crush like I had on him. Anyway, that's basically the way he's always done
buddy sex; with parts of it like lover's sex. Not that he thinks of it that
way. He just did a little more of the lover's sex part today. I can't help
but be flattered he's finally returning my crush on him. And, no, that
'crush' analysis is not just some random rationalization; it's factual.

Before opening the apartment front door I hear laughter and a couple of
guys yelling at each other in a good-natured, having-fun manner. Then,
walking in, I'm slightly startled to see Rob and the lad he's mentoring
lying on the sofa together. Rob draped a sheet over the sofa as a temporary
slipcover. They both look startled too but Rob recovers fast, smiling and
saying, "You caught us, babe! The jig is up, huh Carl?"  The same NFL game
is on the big TV that Danny and I listened to driving from Natick. I also
notice there's a couple of Chinese takeout containers on the coffee table
in front of the sofa.

Carl tries getting up but Rob pulls him back, saying, "No, you don't. It
was you who insisted on lying here and now, medicinally, you're keeping
this hungover guy warm, so you stay put, Carl." Carl's face is bright red
as he says, 'Hi, Dylan." The way they're lying on the couch, both sort of
on their sides with Rob behind and one of his arms over Carl reminds me of
Danny and me lying like that in his bed, only we were naked and having
sex. Carl's shorter than Rob so the top of his red flattop hair is against
Robby's chin making it appear he has a red goatee. I flip my hand as a sort
of wave, saying, "Hi yourself, Carl."

Rob explains that Carl called a couple hours ago when Rob was wicked
hungover. He was still in bed at the time. So, as a nice surprise, Carl
brought Rob a big container of Chinese Wonton soup and it made him feel
better. As he finishes telling me that cute compassionate bullshit story,
Rob gives Carl a squeeze and Carl tries not to, but he grins this big silly
grin anyway. Huh, squeezing the underclassman you're mentoring like that,
hugging actually, I don't believe is in the mentoring handbook. I could be
wrong though. Yeah, I know that sounds like I'm pissed off or jealous, but
I'm not. I think the whole deal is kinda funny... or at least ironic.

Instead of just standing here I walk over and plop my butt down in the
upholstered chair that faces the TV across from the sofa. Robby asks, "You
guys get the car back to Danny's Mom with no problems?" I nod, "Yeah, and
then we hung out at the Dairy Queen. Naturally, Danny knew some people
there. This one guy and his girlfriend I was introduced to, but..." and
Robby goes, "But you don't remember their names, right?" He's grinning and
I go, "Right, but the girl asks me if I was a good friend of yours, so she
knew the two of us somehow."

Rob sort of swats the top of Carl's head, saying, 'Okay, let's sit up now,
Carl," and they both sit up although Carl doesn't move over. He stays next
to Robby as Rob asks me, "What'd this girl look like?" I shrug, "Just a
regular girl, but get this... Danny has his arm casually around my
shoulders like he does with everybody, and when the guy and girl are
leaving the guys says something like, 'You two have fun now, ya hear?
Something like that." Rob frowns," and I go, "Yep, and I took that as some
sort of innuendo that we were gay boyfriends, Danny and me.  It went right
over Danny's head of course. He yelled back at the guy something about,
'Thanks. You guys have fun too,' or something in his innocently naive nice
manner." Rob goes, "Did this guy have a ring in his lower lip?" I shake my
head, "Nah, no visible piercings. He wasn't on the baseball team so you
might not even know him. He was in Danny's homeroom in high school. It was
the girl who knew you and me, not the guy."

Carl looks at Rob and then me, asking, "How many people know you two guys
are gay?" Rob and I shrug as Rob's muttering, "It's not like we're in the
closet like you are, knucklehead. How many would you guess, Dylan?" I go,
"I never gave it a thought. I have no idea," and Rob, uninterested now
since he doesn't know who the guy at the Dairy Queen is, changes the
subject, saying, "Oh! I wanted to ask you something, babe," and he pushes
the back of Carl's head, saying, "Drop your head, Carl." Carl drops his
chin to his chest and Robby puts his hand on the crown of Carl's head,
asking me, "Is this right, Dylan? The hairs here on Carl's head at the
crown cut this short. That's not right, is it?"

I know what he's referring to, but I use it as an excuse to walk over and
take a closer look at these two. Maybe detect a telltale sign of perhaps a
wet spot on Carl's clothing, ya know, in the ass or groin area. Haha, no,
I'm not expecting that... just entertaining myself. Anyway, I look at where
Rob's indicating on little Carl's head, and mutter, "Oh, no, you're right,
Rob, that's fucked up. Danny cut the crown hairs as short as the back and
sides." Rob mumbles, "I'm not an expert barber like you, babe, but even I
spotted the mistake. It's still a helluva good haircut though. Don'cha
think?"

Reaching over and casually rubbing my fingers through Carl's silky red hair
on top, I'm like, "Yeah, I told Danny it was wrong but he said the guy in
the tutorial video did it this way. It's wrong whether the guy did it or
not. And, I do not think the guy did it that way in the first place; not if
he's a professional." Rob goes, "Yeah, this part of this little prick's
head should continue as part of the flattop, right?" I nod, "Yep, Danny did
the same thing with my haircut. But ya know, now you can't tell Danny
anything about haircutting. Not since you got him started watching those
haircutting tutorial videos."

Robby mutters, "Oh sure, blame it on me," and he rubs Carl's head,
mumbling, "I told you your haircut wasn't done right," and Carl lifts his
head, saying, "I wish you guys hadn't told me! I was perfectly happy with
it until...." and Rob yells, "Wow, look at that touchdown Brady threw to
Gronk! The replay is coming up in a second." We watch and Carl goes,
"Omigod, he threw that on a line at least thirty yards!" and then those two
discuss their own quarterbacking prowess for a minute or so.

I'm standing here in front of them so, what the fuck, I sit on the sofa
too. It's plenty long enough for three but I sit right next to Carl,
crowding him like he's crowding Rob. Putting my hand on Carl's leg, I ask,
"So, how'd you know about the Chinese restaurant?" He says, "I Googled it
the first day I was on campus 'cause I love me some Chinese takeout," and
he looks right at me with his sparkly green eyes and grinning cute
face. He's obviously not the least bit intimidated by me being in his
'space'.

I'm thinking this cute little non-smoking, non-cursing, non-drinking
vegetarian kid isn't easily intimidated. He was the quarterback for his
high school, or rather prep school and quarterbacks are usually confident
lads who don't spook easily. Another thought occurs to me as well and it's
that this polite and cooperative lad might be a big FLIRT. He didn't quite
bat his eyes at me but there was something in his expression... I can't put
my finger on exactly what it was, but it was definitely something.

Robby goes, "Yo guys, what the fuck? Can you spread out a little? Maybe use
the whole fucking sofa instead of just this end of it." As Carl and I move
over on the sofa my cell phone pings indicating a text. Standing up I get
my cell phone from my pocket and see it's a text from Pony. He texts to
tell me he just got confirmation for his flight. I text back that I'll be
there and I'm looking forward to seeing him.

Sitting back down, bumping against Carl's side, I go, "Do you wanna sit on
my lap?" He grins, asking, "Was that an invitation?" and I go, "No, it was
a subtle way of saying you need to move a little over... back toward
Rob... that's it, just a little bit." Rob asks, "Was that text from Danny?"
I go, "No," and tell him about me picking up Pony at Logan later
tonight. Carl asks, "A pony?" and I explain it's a guy's nickname. I'm not
all that hungry but Chinese sounds good, so I say, "How about we call that
Chinese restaurant for some more takeout as tonight's dinner?" Rob's
wearing old sweatpants and a long sleeve t-shirt with nothing on his feet
so I know he doesn't want to go out to eat, and I don't feel like cooking.

We all agree on Chinese take-out, so Carl pulls up the restaurant's menu on
his phone and reads out the choices. We pick two things each and then we'll
share each other's stuff. Rob says he'll treat and he places the order
paying with his debit card.  Oh boy, big spender Robby is showing off for
Carl... that's what he's doing. Fine with me.

Leaving those two to talk football, I go into the bathroom to take a real
shower. The shower at the dorm hardly counts. As the water pours over me I
think about Danny's and my afternoon of sex and the irony of coming home
finding Carl and Rob in a sort of compromising position on the sofa. It's
not natural for two guys who barely know each other to be in that position
even though they're both gay. Was I jealous? Absolutely not and the two
main reasons I'm not are, one... I think they were just goofing around and,
two... Rob's and my arrangement allows for side sex or buddy sex. In this
case though, I'm almost positive they didn't do anything overtly sexual
other than a little grab ass. Our arrangement doesn't include flaunting
side sex activity in the other person's face, and the fact Rob wasn't
flustered or acting even the slightest bit guilty is because, like I just
said, he didn't do anything to be guilty about. I could tell if he
did. Rob's a terrible liar and I know his mannerisms totally. He was too
blase to have done anything with that flirt, Carl. That's if Carl even is a
flirt. The verdict is still out on that.

Those two lying on the sofa like that isn't even one-hundredth of what
Danny and I did anyway. And what I mean by them 'goofing around' is a
scenario where they were watching TV and then one or both of them wanted to
lie on the sofa to watch the game and there was a little wrestling and they
ended up in the position I saw them in at the exact time I walked in. A
coincidence and I base my assumption on the fact they were laughing and
bitching at each other before they even knew I was about to open the
door. That might sound like another rationalization on my part but it could
also simply be common sense.

Anyway, I'd be the world's biggest hypocrite if I were to be pissed off if
they did have sex of some kind. That innocent-acting Carl might actually be
innocent, or he might be the flirt I thought I saw for a few seconds there
a little while ago. Flirting with me after maybe flirting with Robby isn't
a criminal offense anyway. So there's nothing to see here folks... not yet
anyway.

Hell, if Rob wants to dip his wick into that freshman sometime in the
future maybe I will too. Carl's one of the rare cute ones on campus this
year. Of course, I've only been here five days so I haven't seen even
one-tenth of the student body yet. Always the optimist, that's me when it
comes to cute males. Boy-watching is my fucking hobby... okay? Jeez!

Getting out of the shower I'm thinking, and it's probably stupid, but since
I'm going to be seeing Pony tonight I'm thinking I want to look good.  He
hasn't seen me with these whiskers on my face, sparse as they may be, so I
shave and use the aftershave balm I gave Rob for his birthday. It's good
shit and cost $40. Yeah, that's a rip-off but it smells killer! Then,
staring at myself in the mirror over the sink I think about my hair. Danny
was cool offering to comb it down on top and flip up in front when he was
fixing my hair at his dorm. Nice of him to offer. I didn't want to diss his
good haircutting though, so I told him I'd stick with the flattop
'look'. Plus, Carl's here and he likes his flattop. If I comb mine like I
want it might seem like a put down on his flattop haircut. It's no big deal
anyway... I use the hairdryer and comb to do my hair as a flattop
again. Damn, maybe I should buy a brush like Danny has. A brush works
better than a comb for flattops.

Done with that I realize this is the first time I've actually looked
closely at my hair since Danny gave me the haircut and, damn if he didn't
do a good job after all. I like how he left the hair kinda full where my
head begins curving from the sides to the top. Huh, I've given flattop
haircuts, especially during the summer of the posse boys, but I never
thought to do it like Danny did. Fuck, it looks cool this way!

Surprisingly satisfied with my hair, I walk out of the bathroom and glance
down the hall seeing Carl making ice cream sodas in the kitchen. No,
they're root beer floats actually. Huh! Robby has Carl waiting on him
already. Whatever...

I want to wear some cool clothes for this rescue mission I'm doing for
Daryl. Hmmm, I decide to wear my favorite lightweight hoodie, the dark blue
one that I'll wear with a white t-shirt underneath. The t-shirt will show
at the top for a casual and almost sloppy 'look' while being cool at the
same time. I put on skinny tan khakis that were ironed initially but during
the move from home to here, they got just the right amount of wrinkles in
the legs to look like I haven't even thought of dressing up for the trip to
the airport. It's like I just threw some clothes together that just happen
to look awesomely cool and casual. With my hightop Converse sneakers on my
feet... yeah, I'm good!

When I'm back in the living room, Carl says, "Oooh, you look cool,
Dylan. You got the cute bad boy look going for you." Robby frowns at him,
as I mutter, "You guys are going to ruin your appetite with those root beer
floats," and then I take Rob's glass from his hand and suck some creamy
root beer and melted vanilla ice cream up through the straw." Rob goes,
"You do look nice, babe." I mutter, "Well aren't you guys awesome to say
that... thanks, dudes!" and hand Rob his glass.

As we wait for the food to be delivered a thought occurs to me, so I ask,
"Yo, Carl, how'd you get over here from the campus?" He looks at Rob like
he wants him to answer. After a second or so, Rob shrugs, mumbling, "Oh,
yeah. Well, ya know, Carl called me like I said, um, and ya know, when he
heard how hungover I was he thought of the wonton soup thingie and it was
just what I needed. You know, Dylan, almost like the way you make that
boxed Lipton chicken noodle soup for me when I'm sick." I go, "Uh huh, but
what I was curious about is how'd Carl got the soup and his young ass over
here from his dorm?"

Rob repeats my question, "How'd he get here?" That's to give him time to
think. Carl looks out the sliding glass doors as if there's something
interesting out there. Rob finally shrugs again and mutters, "Well he
didn't walk if that's what you mean. It's a three-minute drive but like a
mile and a half walking distance from here to his dorm." I nod, "More like
two-miles now that we have this apartment way in the back of the
complex. So, how'd he get here?" Rob goes, "The Chinese place
delivers. They complained about the small order at first so Carl added in
one of those platters of appetizers. What are they called?" Carl mutters,
"Pu pu platter."

Pointing to Carl, Rob goes, "Yeah, that's it, pu pu platter and it cost
$13.95 so then they agreed to deliver." I nod, "Uh huh, so that's how the
wonton soup and the pu pu platter got here... and Carl got here, how?"
Rob's exasperated, saying, "He doesn't have a car for Christ's sakes... and
you know that. What else could I do? I told him to take a taxi and I'd pay
for it. His weekly spending money from home is fucked!" and to Carl, he
says, "You need to get a bigger allowance." I'm looking at them both and
Rob goes, "What's the big deal anyway?" I chuckle, "Was I making a big deal
out of it? I was just wondering how the kid got here."

Robby paying for someone's taxi? You gotta be shitting me! Haha, oh man, he
was embarrassed admitting that and I'll bet anything he told Carl not to
mention it which is why Carl didn't want to say anything and just looked at
Robby. Oh man, why would Rob think I'd give a shit?

We watch TV for a few minutes and then Carl, maybe because no one is saying
anything, says again, "You look nice, Dylan." I mutter, "Thanks, and so do
you, ya little suck up," and he grins as I reach over to rub his head. He
goes, "Noooo! You're messing my hair..." He's right though, I do look
pretty good.  Slim guys like me can really look good in almost any style of
clothes. Husky or fat guys just can't pull off the cool casual look. Ya
know, maybe they should start passing up the fourth sandwich at lunch and
put down their second milkshake. They can't do that though and then there
are many other guys who simply don't care; they don't give a shit that they
look like shit. They don't fixate on their appearance like some of us do;
well, not fixate so much as simply give a shit, ya know? Rob's almost as
slim as I am and we eat every fucking thing we want and still stay
thin. It's our metabolism which is another thing I can thank my 'genes' for
'cause I've had nothing to do with that.

We make small talk until about seven-fifteen when the football game's over
and Rob switches off the TV, saying, "Where the hell is that Chinese food?"
Carl goes, "Do you want me to call, Rob?" Rob makes a face like, 'Are you
serious?' and the doorbell rings. I get up, mumbling, "That's gotta be the
food. I'll tip the delivery guy since you bought the dinner, Rob." I go
over to the door with Carl right behind me.

I open the door and, holy shit, there's this gorgeous Chinese kid standing
there holding a big white bag that's been stapled across the top. I assume
he's Chinese... he looks Chinese anyway. Oh man, I hope to hell I haven't
violated some political correct thingie by saying that. It's always
something, ya know?

This 'maybe' Chinese kid is as slim as me and about the same height with a
pretty face, although he looks all boy... pretty boy, in other
words. Perfect facial features with perfect skin and a wonderful smile as
he holds out the bag containing our order, saying, "My apologies for this
taking so long but the original bag ripped and some of the containers fell
out so I insisted they prepare everything fresh again." I go, "Huh?" and he
goes, "Yep, everything's piping hot and right from the pots," and then we
get his big cute dimpled-smile again. His hair is short, combed down on top
with the short bangs flipped up in front. Haha, my old-timey favorite
hairdo! Looks really cool on him too!

Carl and I are just staring at this kid so he holds the bag up further and
I hesitantly take it and then pass it to Carl unable to stop gawking at
this young guy. Carl's gawking too. The delivery boy nods his head at the
bag Carl's now holding, adding, "I put in extra complimentary fortune
cookies too," and I realize he's waiting for his tip. Duh!

Of course! Jesus! I come to my senses grinning and muttering, "Sorry I,
um..." and take my money out. Oh, balls! I have three one dollar bills and
a couple of twenty dollar bills. Well shit, I'm not giving him a twenty
dollar bill! Making a 'face' that I hope looks sincere, I'm muttering, "I
wish I had more small bills to give you," and I hand him the three singles,
saying, "Thanks very much. I'll catch you next time and make up for..." he
goes, "No-no! No next time, big spender. We don't deliver to three dollar
tip people," and Carl says, 'Here," and hands the boy a five dollar
bill. This brings a huge smile to the delivery boy's face... he has no name
tag. He says to Carl, "Oh yes, very nice." To me, he says, "Your little
brother saved you, dude. Now you can still get delivery," and he turns and
struts down the hall.

Rob calls over, "What the fuck was that all about?" Carl and I are still
watching that hot-shit pretty Chinese boy swagger away until he disappears
down the steps. Carrying the bag of food to the kitchen table, Carl says,
"I saved Dylan from being a cheapskate, that's the bottom line." I go,
"Yeah, good thing my little brother was here." Carl grins and says, "Little
brother, ha!"  I go, "It's because we have the same haircut. That's the
only reason he said that."

Rob's opening the bag, mumbling, "No it's not. Actually, you two do look
alike, Dylan. You had Carl's youthful face two or three years ago. The
first time I saw Carl I thought of you." Carl and I look at each other and
he says, "Yeah, I think so too, Rob." I go, "No way," but like I've been
saying, Carl, is one of the few cute guys on campus so I'll take it. And,
no, we don't look alike! Or maybe a little...

For the next twenty minutes, we eat and pass around the funny white cartons
with the wire handles that Chinese takeout comes in. That way we can all
try what's in every container. Our conversation is all about the food. It's
good! We do not finish everything though, does anyone ever finish
everything from a Chinese takeout order? Anyway, when we can't eat another
bite we stick the leftovers in the refrigerator 'cause you never know when
you might want some cold beef chop suey.

Rob's still on that kick about Carl and me as look-alike so we start
looking at Carl's cell phone pictures of him at the prep school he went
to. Surprising Rob and me, it was a Military school. Omigod, Carl looked
about ten years old in his freshman year uniform... and he has a buzz cut
in all the pictures. Fucking cute too! In all the pictures he has this
stern look on his baby face standing at attention with his silly military
uniform on. Haha, actually he says he was fourteen when these pictures were
taken; not ten-years-old like I thought.

Jeez, the school looks very impressive in the background and then he shows
us pictures of him in his football uniform standing with his lineman and he
still looked like he's ten years old and he's half the size of everyone
else. He's at least five-foot-seven now, although I don't know how tall he
was in the picture. Then he accidentally on purpose shows us the pix of him
getting the teams MVP award at what looks like, from the background, a very
large affair with a few hundred people sitting around tables like at an
awards banquet.

I say, "I'm impressed, Carl! And you're actually a baseball player even
more than a football player. Did you get any MVP awards for baseball?" He
says, "Well, let me show you some pics of me with the baseball team," and I
say, "Jesus, I was kidding, bro! Show, Rob. I need to brush my teeth and
take off for the airport." Rob's smirking at me and then chuckling and
saying, "I'm interested in your baseball pictures, Carl. Don't listen to
that bully." I laugh as Rob pats the cushion next to him on the sofa,
saying, "C'mon over and have a seat, Carl. Who wouldn't want to see more of
your pictures that neither Dylan or I are in?" Sarcasm can be awesome!

Going down the hall I'm still chuckling because Carl doesn't know who's
being serious and who's breaking his balls... good-natured ball
breaking. In the bathroom, I wash my face and hands and then brush my teeth
and gargle with minty mouthwash because ya never know if a kiss 'Hello'
might be involved in Pony's greeting. Recombing my hair and straightening
my clothes, I'm ready to go.

As I'm jiggling the pickup's keys walking into the living room, Rob goes,
"You're going to drop Carl off on the way, right babe?" Huh, I didn't even
think of that. I should have offered. I go, "Jeez, of course! Let's go,
Carl." We're at the door with Rob walking up behind us. He puts his hand on
my shoulder, saying, "I'll be asleep long before you get back. How about a
kiss to hold me over," and we do a nice kiss on the lips. I say, "I'll try
not to wake you, Rob." He goes, "I gotta tell ya, you're a good guy for
going to Logan this late at night." I shrug, "Well, Daryl's kinda
stuck. Jesus though, going to the airport does suck the big one, especially
the night before our first real day of classes, but whaddya gonna do," He
pats my shoulder, "Drive carefully," and then he pats Carl's back, saying,
"I'll see you at baseball practice, ya hot shit." Carl nods, "See ya, Rob,"
and we're out the door.

Walking down the hall Carl bumps my side and looks at me, saying, "That
Chinese kid thought I was your little brother." I go, "Yeah, ha! I already
told ya, it's our identical haircuts." Going down the steps, he goes, "You
like the haircut better now, huh?" I shrug, "It's okay," and he says, "Mine
looks more authentic. Yours looks almost like you need a haircut." I smile
and mumble, "You don't know what you're talking about." Then, when we're
out the front door I point, saying, "I'm parked all the fuck over there at
the back of the lot."

We walk over to the pickup and after I unlock it, Carl says, "Did you
believe Rob when he said you and I look alike?" I ask, "Did you believe
him?" He goes, "Yeah, I thought we looked alike the first time I saw
you. That's why I was sort of speechless at first." I go, "Huh. Well, if
you say so... I'm flattered. Let's go, get in." Driving across Route114,
Carl goes, "The other freshmen on the team are so jealous of me because I'm
in tight with you and Rob. They hate me I think." I go, "You'll need to
work on that, Carl. Make friends with them. A couple of them could turn out
to be friends for life." He goes, "I hope you and Rob are." I go, "Uh huh."

Pulling up to his dorm, I ask him, "What's your roommate like?" He shrugs,
"He's a big guy. An ice hockey star but I don't know if we're gonna hit it
off or not. I know he's not gay." Nodding, I mutter, "Most guys aren't. I
have lots of straight friends." He leans his head over then and I pull my
head back but he kisses me anyway, saying, "Hey, I'm tight with you guys
now. You kissed Rob 'goodnight' so I thought...." I go, "You and I aren't
kissing friend yet, Carl. Okay?" He makes a 'face', muttering, "We will
be," and he gets out pouting, but then gives me a forced smile and says,
"Thanks for the ride, Dylan." I go, "See ya, Carl," and I'm on my way to
Logan Airport, not sure what to make of Carl.

to be continued...

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

========================================================

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