Date: Thu, 2 Aug 2018 20:23:27 -0400
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter  4

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter  4

by  Donny Mumford


Danny Monday and I are in his garage drinking beer and smoking
cigarettes. We've also had a couple shots of bourbon, and of course, we've
had some very good buddy sex... finally. And, um, I guess I need to add
there was also some juvenile, sexy goofing-around with a hand vibrator as
well, heh heh. Overall this first night back from Hartford has been fun. It
would have been a better time if I spent it with Rob, but he's not
available.



Anyway, the two most fascinating aspects of tonight for me have been
Danny's stronger than expected libido and the amount he's had to
drink. Seriously, he's exceeded my expectations in both areas although now
it appears he's exceeded his capabilities in both areas. Nothing last
forever though so before he completely hits the wall, so to speak, I go,
"You know, Danny, your hand vibrator reminds me of that time with you, me,
and Hayden in his hundred degrees basement messing around together." He
nods his head and says, "I'm thinking about buying a car. Did I tell you
that?" I nod my head thinking... so much for vibrator talk.

Yeah, since Robby is spending tonight in a hotel near the Westborough
office I let my buddy, Danny here, talk me into sleeping at his house. Now
that his drinking is beginning to seriously affect him, however, me
spending the night is looking like a dumber and dumber idea by the
minute. He was doing so well for the longest time and then BAM, not so
much. He just blew-off my vibrator comment and now he's rambling on about
an exercise he uses to improve his reflexes. I'm putting out my cigarette
butt nodding my head like what he's saying makes sense.



His ramblings get tedious pretty quickly though so I sneak a look at my
wristwatch and, oh man, it's definitely time we get to bed! Tomorrow is
Friday, my last day of work this summer, and I do not want to be dealing
with a major hangover which will happen if I do not get enough sleep! I've
got reports to write and then probably I'll need to spend time with
Mr. Dickers going over the Hartford office's unprofessionalism and
unpleasantness.



Okay, I'm making the official 'call': Danny's hammered, totally smashed,
drunk as a skunk... all of the above.  He began slurring his words a little
while ago and now he's repeating the crazy shit that didn't make any sense
the first time he told me about it. It's something about him being Rob's
substitute tonight which he claims means he'll need to hug me until I fall
asleep? Yeah, haha, I know how weird that sounds but that's the kind of
nonsense you get with an inebriated Danny.

In addition to that bizarre 'hugging' comment, which I just grinned at and
tried not to laugh the first time he said it, Danny also claims he's the
leader and therefore 'the man' in this one-night-stand of ours. First of
all, I have no idea where he got the idea he's Rob's substitute, and
secondly, I'm wondering what in the fuck Robby's been telling him? On the
other hand, Danny can say things in a screwed-up manner and he also has
been known to misinterpret lots of things that are said to him, so I've
gotta take all that into consideration as well.

By the way, none of the characterizations he used; like, 'in-charge',
'leader' or even the 'man's role' bother me because I've wanted Robby to
adopt that sort of position, within reason, for years now. Lately, I've
been more inclined towards a fifty/fifty proposition for Rob and me but
that's not the point here. What I'm curious about is Danny using terms that
are the same exact ones I've used. Rob must be telling Danny this stuff.

So I'm curious about that and, without much hope of a lucid reply, I
casually ask, "Um, Danny, why do you say Rob's the 'man' in his and my
relationship? Did he tell you that?" Danny squints at me, then burps, and
slurs his muttered response, "Don't be so fucking sensitive. I didn't mean
you're a 'woman'; where'd you get that idea?" Yeah well, I never said the
word 'women' but why confuse Danny with facts at this point?



He's obviously having trouble focusing, as he goes on, "You're not a woman!
I meant Rob and me' top' when we have sex with you. We're in the male's,
um, position and you're in the, um, not woman's exactly... um, what was the
question?" I laugh, mumbling, "Never mind," and he goes, "Heh heh, neither
Rob nor I have any interest in women and I don't know where you came up
with that idea." Probably because I didn't!

Okay, I was right. It's now way past the time for conversing logically with
Danny and the sex he was boasting we'd have in bed isn't a long-shot
possibility anymore; it's now totally out of the question! He continues
mumbling about women, "I meant strictly when you, me, and sex is involved,
and no disrespect to you or women was intended. After all, our Moms are
women, um, and they're awesome, ya know?" Hard to argue with that.

Not only is Danny talking gibberish, he didn't come close to answering my
original question about Rob telling him he's the 'man' in our
relationship. It's hard for me to imagine Rob saying that to Danny. I don't
want to make fun of Danny in his condition so I nod my head as if what he
just said made sense and then try one more time for an answer to my
original question about Rob being the 'man'. I'm like, "Yeah, our Moms are
women alright, and they're awesome like you said. Um, but what I'm still
wondering is, did Robby say to you that he's my in-charge leader and
therefore the 'man' in our relationship?" I'm not sure he was even
listening to me.

With half a grin on my face I watch Danny puffing on his cigarette, perhaps
thinking about what I asked until finally, he goes, "Well no, I guess
not. Rob didn't tell me that. Why would you think he did?" Oh boy! I go,
"Oh, I don't know. Why don't you tell me who did tell you that."?  He
chuckles, "Are you fucking with me? You're the one who told Hayden that a
long time ago, and he told me. Why do you care who told me anyway?"
Chuckling, I go, "No reason," and he stammers, "Oh, uh oh, are you saying
you object that Rob's the boss of you?" I go, "Rob isn't the boss of me,
but..." and then stop because I don't feel I need to explain our
relationship. Danny's eyes get big then as he points at me, yelling,
"Sensitive! I told you before, you're too fucking sensitive!"

Drunks can be awfully funny, but annoying too. Looking away and covering my
mouth, I can't help chuckling but I don't want to make fun of him in his
compromised condition. Nah, Danny's a sweet guy. Damn though, he was doing
fine and then, BANG! he's drunk!  Just like that! Those last bourbon shots
must have all made it into his bloodstream. I'm not what you'd call 'sober'
myself, but Danny's residing in a much higher level of inebriation.

To avoid awkwardness later I should probably try to straighten him out on
his stupid original question about hugging, so I go, "Let's go back a
couple of minutes and I'll answer your 'hugging' question. No, you do not
need to hug me as I go to sleep! Definitely not!" He frowns, asking, "Who
said anything about hugging?"

Giving up on that, I mutter, "Nobody. Shouldn't we be getting to bed now?"
Ignoring that, Danny tries talking slowly and distinctly like we all do
when we're drunkenly trying to sound sober. Over-articulating each slurring
word, he's saying, "Omigod, don't ever think that, Dylan!"  Think what,
going to bed, or...? I'm not sure what he's referring to now, so I don't
say anything.

Danny's garage, by the way, is not used as a garage. It's full of junk
and... whatever. We've been facing each other sitting on old beat-up beach
chairs. There's a cardboard box between us that our beer bottles leave wet
rings on every time we set them down. There's also a weird-looking ashtray,
like a miniature truck tire, on top of the box and it's surrounded by
cigarette ashes where we've both missed the ashtray when flicking ashes off
our cigarettes.

After a short silence, with me kinda grinning in anticipation of Danny's
next bizarre comment, he leans forward and puts a hand on my knee, saying,
"Haven't I told you any number of times how awesome I think you are and how
fabulous it is that we've finally become great friends?" I mumble, "Sure,
Danny," and he shrugs, adding, "So stop fucking worrying about me hugging
you tonight in bed, okay?" Haha! I go, "Okay, great, let's forget about
anything to do with hugging. And by the way, I feel the same way you do
about us becoming good friends." He goes, "See? What'd I tell you?" Um,
well nothing actually.



Whatever he may have meant by that I'm grinning again and mumbling, "Plus,
don't forget I've got this 'crush' on you... so we're good as gold." He
goes, "Well then why did you say I thought I was doing you a favor doing
buddy sex?" Holy shit!! When did I say that? Oh well, I shrug mumbling, "I
must have misinterpreted what you meant about, um... whatever." Okay, from
now on I'm just gonna go along with whatever he says because he won't
remember it tomorrow anyway.

He goes, "Oh good, but you're not an idiot, so don't think that." Who said
I was? He's got his cigarette between his front teeth holding his arms out
with both forefingers pointing at me as he slurs his words, saying, "I
think you're wicked smart and so does Rob... Hayden too." It's hard keeping
up with his out of order responses about the comments I made a half hour
ago, or things I never said at all. I nod anyway, mumbling, "Well,
yeah... um," and then I snort out a laugh, adding, "Ah, I'm sure you're
right about whatever you're referring to, but I'm definitely not smarter
than any of you guys. Jesus, get real with that shit!"

Squinting at me and flicking the ash from his cigarette, missing the box
entirely, he nods his head, mumbling, "Ah, being modest now, eh?" and then
he asks, "So, am I in charge like Rob, or not?" Oh fuck, he's back to
that... haha. I go, "Yeah, you're in charge and to be clear, there's
nothing special you need to do when we sleep together." He nods, "That's
not what I was talking about, and why do you keep bringing up hugging?"
Chuckling again, I mumble. "I don't know, um, I don't think I mentioned
hugging actually."

Eventually, this banter, while it makes me laugh, gets tiresome and when
Danny again gets on the topic of me trying out for the Merrimack baseball
team, I'm like, "Forget that; I'm not doing it. Listen, buddy, we've gotta
get to bed! It's almost eleven o'clock and I need to get up at six
o'clock." He abruptly stands up and sways forward, almost falling on me but
grabs hold of my shoulders with both hands for balance, murmuring,
'Whooooa! What the fuck...?" Straightening, he mumbles, "Great idea. Hey,
good 'talk', babe!"

I get up too and then touchy/feely Danny puts his arm around my shoulders,
but this time more for support than anything else. We stagger inside where
Danny looks at the mess we left in the kitchen, and says, "Holy shit!" I
mutter, "C'mon, Danny," and as we continue walking through the kitchen, he
goes, "No problem, I'll clean up that mess before Mom gets up." His Mom
isn't even here! She's with his grandmother but like I said earlier, no
need to confuse Danny with facts, certainly not at this point. Frowning and
pointing over his shoulder, he mutters, "Hey, where'd that empty bottle of
liquor come from? My Mom doesn't drink." I go, "What bottle of liquor? "
and we go into his bedroom where he steps on my feet as I get a too-tight
hug from him and then a sloppy kiss, half on my mouth and the other half on
my chin.

How ironic is it that Danny's much earlier rationalization that me
sleeping-over will only be, 'some buddy sex and then going to sleep' and it
turns out to be exactly what's happening. Danny's too drunk for sex tonight
and tomorrow morning there's no way he'll be awake when I get up for
work. It makes me smile to myself the way things work out sometimes. Danny
goes, "What's so funny?" I mutter, "Actually, nothing. Sit here," and I
guide him to his desk chair. Of course, I've been known to drive when I'm a
lot drunker than this, but only when absolutely necessary. Also, I want to
wear a suit to work and that means Danny's suit, so I'm staying here
tonight because of that.

As I'm getting undressed Danny's hitting some keys on his computer's
keyboard, muttering, "What the fuck? That's not my password?" I hear him
hitting more keys and yelling, "No, that's not it either!" When I've
undressed to my jockey shorts, I get Danny up off the chair hoping he'll
cooperate. Surprisingly he proves very malleable letting me get his clothes
off down to his underwear and then he comes with me to the hall bathroom
where, without too much trouble, I get him to do everything he needs to do
in here.

Of course, I do everything along with him including using my new disposable
toothbrush. After accomplishing that, we go back down the hall to the
bedroom with Danny mumbling, "How come you're staying with me tonight,
Dylan?" Taking a page out of his 'book' I ignore that, saying instead,
"Here ya go. This is your side of the bed," and it is too. I wanted to
sleep on this side until he spunked on it. Funny how that wouldn't have
bothered me at all a year ago...

Danny flops on the bed and I pull the covers over him. After that, I don't
hear another peep from him. Setting my cell phone alarm for six-thirty I
get in bed. Damn though, the itchy, dried cum I shot on the bed a couple of
hours ago feels creepy on my bare back. In my younger days that wouldn't
have bothered me either, but tonight I get out of bed and turn on the
little desk lamp so I can see to open the top drawer of Danny's bureau. Ha,
the first drawer I open contains undershirts and underpants. While putting
on one of Danny's wife-beater undershirts I get the brainstorm to plan
ahead by laying a pair of dark socks and boxer shorts on top of the bureau
for tomorrow morning. The sock drawer is next to his underwear
drawer. Convenient!

Nodding my head, proud of myself for going to the trouble of thinking
ahead, I turn off the light and get back to bed.  It's a nice bed
actually. Glancing at Danny I see he's dead to the world. Damn though, he
held up pretty well tonight, all things considered. I had some laughs and
earlier our buddy sex was everything it should have been, so tonight was
alright. Yeah but sleeping over was dumb. Danny can talk me into almost
anything and I need to do something about that.

Glancing over at him I see the moonlight through the window is nicely
outlining his profile. He's sleeping on his back, a very nice looking young
man. We're still mostly boys though. I can admit that to myself
anyway. Glancing at Danny again I still think he's 'hot' but I have no urge
to snuggle with him, not like I would with Rob. Huh, I go to sleep
wondering if my 'crush' on Danny is fading.

Next thing I'm aware of is my cellphone's insistence that I pay attention
to it. Goddammit, but it seems like it was no more than two minutes ago
that I got in bed! Groaning, I look at Danny who turned over during the
night. He's still deeply sleeping. Lucky fucker! With a sigh I get out of
bed and, after grabbing the boxer shorts I laid out last night on the
bureau, I pad down the short hall to the bathroom to do what I need to do
in there, including a shower.

Haha, it's kind of sexy using Danny's soap and shampoo, plus one of his
washcloths and big fluffy towels I found in a small closet. He uses Men's
Dove Soap. Yeah, a bar of soap, no bath gel. Like his bedroom, his bathroom
is neat and clean. I like that about him but then Rob's the same way and so
am I to a degree. In all three cases we're out of the norm for guys our
age, I mean as far as neatness goes. Rob is the number one neatness freak
among the three of us though.

At ten-of-seven in the morning, I'm already bathed and standing in front of
Danny's bedroom mirror in his boxer shorts combing my hair and wondering
why I don't have a worse hangover. Oh, I've got a hangover alright but it's
manageable. While getting dressed in Danny's clothes I'm pissed at myself
for not remembering to take Advil last night. Guess I didn't think of
everything last night.

After patting Danny's shoulder, I go into the kitchen carrying the clothes
I wore yesterday and hoping I can find something, like Advil, for my
headache. Again, I get lucky finding Tylenol in the second cabinet I open
and, after swallowing three of the pills with a small glass of imitation
orange juice called Sunny Delight, I walk outside into a hot steamy day
near the end of August. Omigod, summer vacation is rushing to an end!

It's obvious I'm gonna be wicked early for work! The dumb-ass six-thirty
wakeup time I set on my cell phone was allowing for morning sex which I
knew last night wasn't happening. Danny's earlier plans for our sleepover
must have been in my drunken head when I set the cell phone alarm. Huh, it
wasn't so much that Danny's libido lets me down this time, it was his
boozing. It's always something. Yeah, I knew he wasn't a good drinker but
how the hell could I have prevented him from doing the shots of bourbon?
I'm not his boss! And he said he was in-charge anyway... haha.

Fuck it though, we had some really good sexy-fun earlier in the evening and
to come to think of it, between Tony in Hartford and Danny last evening
I've had lots of sex the past forty-eight hours. I feel good about that
too! It's reminiscent of my younger days, and what's wrong with that?
Nothing, that's what!

I have the time so I stop at a Dunkin' Donuts for a breakfast sandwich and
a large regular coffee which I planned on leisurely consuming at a table
inside the shop. Unfortunately, there are four construction workers sitting
at a table talking boisterously so I take my sandwich and coffee to eat and
drink in the little company car. I get the car running so I can listen to
sports radio; a couple of guys talking about the Red Sox and the preseason
Patriot game this weekend. This is an excellent time of the year for sports
fans like myself. Ya got the end of baseball season going on at the same
time the NFL is heating up.

Even after stopping at Dunkin' Donuts I'm at the office thirty-five-minutes
early. Getting out of the car the realization hits me that I don't know
what I'm supposed to do about turning-in this car. Shrugging, I get
everything of mine, including the clothes I had on last night, and carry my
stuff inside with me. Dropping everything on a chair in the small meeting
room I've been using as my office I try to think how best to start the
summary report. That seems too difficult a task at the moment so before
anyone shows up for work I go to the Accounting Department and use one of
their disposable cups to make myself a second cup of morning coffee. I want
to have a smoke too, so I take the coffee outside.

My headache is fairly under control with the Tylenol so I sit at one of the
picnic tables. It's the one I used most days when I was working here at the
office to eat my lunch. I ate alone except for the occasional times Marty
West joined me. Hmmm, that reminds me Marty transferred to Westborough some
time ago. Yeah, and so did my goofy boss! That happened like two weeks
before I even realized they were gone. Of course, I've mostly been out of
the office this past month and my only contact with my boss was texting
with him. Marty never texted me after our second so-called date so I didn't
text him either. Huh, Marty West and I never would have worked out.

Oh shit, three women are getting out of a car and walking this way from the
parking lot. They're lighting cigarettes so they'll be hanging out here I
assume. Damn it's weird, but I feel like a stranger here working in the
'field' the past month. Wait a second! Hey, this is my last day of work!
Jeez, how'd I forget that? Damn, this summer went by fast! One of the
'girls' yells over to me, "How ya doing, Dylan? Welcome back..." She waves
her hand, the one holding her cigarette, so I wave at her and smile. I've
absolutely no idea who she is.

Yeah, I feel kinda funny being here now, and it doesn't help that I'm
wearing Danny's clothes. The jacket doesn't fit me nearly as well as I
thought it did last night and the pants are definitely too long and
baggy. Damn, and Danny's loafers almost come off my feet when I walk. Oh
man, and I'm probably gonna need to meet with Mr. Dickers this
afternoon. Gawd, I'll be reviewing my Hartford report wearing this clown
outfit. Balls!

Oooh, then I get this strange nervous feeling thinking about seeing Robby
today. I wish I hadn't slept with Danny. Dammit, that was not my best
choice! Why do I let him talk me into doing crazy shit? And I am not trying
out for the Merrimack baseball team! That's a fact and I don't care what
Danny says! I'll at least save myself that humiliation.

Done my cigarette and coffee I dump the coffee container in a trash barrel
and then walk the long way around the picnic area to the back door hoping
to avoid contact with the women. They're laughing and acting way too
energetically for me. Now I've gotta get working on the summer-end reports!

Determined, I trudge inside and as I close the door of my 'office' my cell
phone pings. It's a text from Robby: 'G'morning Dylan. Looking forward to
seeing you, babe! I'll be at the office around one o'clock'. Damn, I
shouldn't be this apprehensive about seeing him, especially since last
night we only did like Danny said: some buddy-sex and then an innocent
night's sleep... and that's all! Hmmm, I'm gonna call Robby and clear the
air because I want to get this off my chest. He goes, "Hiya, Dylan. I've
missed you! What'd ya do last night?" What? Did he already text with Danny?

I say, "G'morning, Rob. Ah, last night, huh? Oh yeah, it was, um, a
fucked-up deal. I ended up staying at Danny's, um, you know because we got
drunk and, ah, you know how it goes..." Robby says, "Oh jeez, yeah. You
didn't have any shots, did you?" I mutter, "Afraid so. Hey, I missed you."
He goes, "Oh man, tell me about it. Damn though, I can't really talk too
long, babe." I'm like, "Okay, ah..." and he interrupts, "I'm so tired! I
had a shitty night's sleep with all that noise from the next room. Some guy
and girl; and the girl was a screamer too. What a pain in the ass that was!
Anyway, now Dad said I'm supposed to be some kind of witness or something
for the office employee interviews. And then we're seeing the government
guy in Worcester or some such shit. It sucks here, babe."

He apparently isn't all that concerned about me being with Danny, so I
mutter, "Gawd, I'm sorry you're having such a terrible time," and he goes,
"Yeah, at least everything went as good as could be expected last night. We
faxed the reports to the government office and all that BS." I go, "Great!
Okay, I just wanted to hear your voice. I'll see you when you get here." He
says, "Love you," and we end the call.

Huh, that was no big deal. Rob seemed hyper about his ordeal, but he
obviously didn't care about me staying at Danny's last night. I guess
that's probably because of who I was with. I mean Danny, Rob, and me are
tight gay buddies and, la de da. Well good, right?

Feeling better, I open the case and ruffle through all the pages of notes I
took during the summer, and I mean notes for every employee. Fuck, why'd I
take so many notes? If I'm gonna review all my notes for these summary
reports it's going to take much longer than I anticipated. Gawd, the sides
of this imitation leather case are bulging with papers. I borrowed this
raggedy-ass thing from my goofy and often tardy boss the first day of
work. Actually, this cheap-looking old thing is officially called a
Zippered Envelope Pro-folio Briefcase. That's what's stamped inside anyway,
along with the company name except I can't read the name because it's
partially worn off.

Forcing myself to get started, I spread everything out on the conference
table trying to organize it into appropriate piles. I should have kept
everything organized as I went along, but I didn't. After turning in weekly
reports I thought that was the end of my responsibilities. The summer-end
report was never mentioned to me by my geeky boss and I only found out
about it from a casual comment Mr. Dickers made during one of the 'talks'
he had with me in his office at home.

Working steadily, it takes quite a while but I finally get everything from
the case laid out in appropriate piles. And now I see there's a blank
summary form left in the case. Holy shit this is a big help because it
shows the format for the summary reports. Goddammit but that nincompoop
boss of mine never mentioned anything about an end of the project summary
report, and with all the crap in the folder, this is the first time I've
noticed this form. Fucking paperwork will drive you crazy, ya know?

It takes quite a while eliminating excess pages of 'notes' and then I start
by duplicating the summary form into my laptop. Lots of numbers and
percentages get typed in, which is the easy part. The harder part is
reducing the pages of comments, and I mean for each unit and
division. Okay, I stop doing that after half an hour, finally coming to my
senses and deciding I'm not even going to try representing all the comments
from each employee, only the extraordinary ones will be in the report. A
lot of the minor-whiners will get a pass.

Typing like mad I get one part done, the Accounting Department. Thank God,
but when I read it over I change stuff; wording and the order of things,
etc. Good changes but I need to reread it now and, dammit, I change more
words eliminating some things and adding others which means I need to
reread it again. It's driving me crazy that I can't settle on a final
summary... and I'm still working on the Accounting Department's report!

Wow, I need to settle on a final draft and accept that it won't be
perfect. Well, 'perfect' is obviously subjective. Maybe no one expects it
to be perfect, and maybe no one is even going to read the damn thing
anyway. No that's not right because I know Mr. D. is interested in at least
the Hartford part, so I change directions and start working on that. Yeah,
I'll do the last department I interviewed first, and try to make this
Hartford section perfect. And for the other summaries, I'll settle on them
being just 'okay'.

As I start on that Rob comes into the room and closes the door behind
him. Holy shit, is it one o'clock already? He looks excited to see me with
a big smile on his face, saying, "Jesus, Dylan, you look so, um,
business-like... working hard at your, um, table with your sleeves rolled
up and all. You're also beautiful," and he comes around the table as I
stand up, saying, "Hi, Robby, please don't call me beauti..." but he hugs
me and then gives me a quick kiss followed by a long lover's kiss. Robby's
holding my face between his hands, murmuring, "I've missed you so
much. You've been away too many days this summer..."

My arms are around him and he feels so good, kinda perfect
actually. Finding my voice again, I go, "I missed you too, Robby," and we
do another quick kiss. He holds me out at arm's length then, and with a
smirking grin, asks, "What the fuck are you wearing?" Chuckling, he adds,
"Those pants are way too long for you and the crotch is too low." Good
thing I'm not wearing the suit coat!

I tell him how I didn't have a clean suit to wear so Danny lent me his
suit, a suit he hasn't worn since high school graduation and blah, blah,
blah... Rob grins, mumbling, "I didn't think Danny had a suit," and then I
tell him what Danny said about his Dad, and Brooks Brothers, and his
graduation, and all that, blah, blah, blah. He finally interrupts, probably
to shut me up, saying, 'A Brooks Brothers suit, huh? Well, I just wanted to
say 'hi'. Now I've gotta have lunch in the conference room with Dad and all
the managers. Tonight, I'll tell you all about what happened in
Westborough."

As he runs off I look at my wristwatch. Jeez, it's ten-of-one. Yeah, it's
past lunchtime! The easiest thing would be to grab some lunch in the
cafeteria except I don't want to eat alone in there, so I drive to
BurgerKing. After an uneventful lunch eaten in the car, the afternoon goes
by quickly. I probably spend too much time on the Hartford report but I
feel pretty good about the final summary of that horror show in
Hartford. My final report isn't the 'scorched earth' treatment I envisioned
I'd be submitting after my first day there. Nah, that'd be unprofessional
and I've calmed down a lot since then. I've basically settled on just
including facts, leaving most of the drama out of it. The facts are bad
enough. And after that, the rest of the summaries seemed easier once I got
the hang of it.

Reading over everything one last time I print it all out in order, meaning
the Hartford report is last. Huh, wait a second! I then print out a
separate copy of the Hartford report in case Mr. D. wants to concentrate on
just that. Okay, I'm finished and just in the nick of time too! It's after
four o'clock as I'm taking everything to the next building. I remember to
wear my suit jacket like Mr. Dickers said I should whenever I'm in the
executive offices. Upstairs I go past Rob's office and continue down the
hall to the end office; Mr. Dicker's executive suite. Ha, I'm feeling
pretty good delivering my reports not just on time... but on time and a
workday early!

Yeah, it was during one of our 'talks' at home that Mr. Dickers told me I
need to wear a suit on the second floor. I think that's stupid but whaddya
gonna do? Most companies nowadays have completely abandoned the need for
wearing suits... just saying. And another thing; here the managers wear
suits to the office and then take off their suit jackets as soon as they
get here. What's that all about?

Anyway, walking up to Mr. Dickers' Administrative Assistant, Dottie
Scouser, I stand here watching her working on her computer. What the fuck
did people work on twenty years ago? Typewriters I guess. She's ignoring me
so I do one of my clever fake coughs and she looks up with a smile, "Dylan?
What can I do for you today?" Is she shitting me? I tell her I have the
summaries for my summer benefits project, and add, "I can't believe this is
my last day, Dottie. Yep, I'm done for the summer. And ya know, I got
everything accomplished, um, on time and a day early too." Oh bow-wow! What
a brown-nosing move that was... Jesus! Why do I say shit like that?
Nervousness I guess.

As I'm handing her the stack of printouts, she says, "Oh, and these are
the, um, what is it you said these are?" Fuck! That's how important my job
was? She's forgotten what I've been doing all summer?" I blush, stuttering
a little and she chuckles while telling me, "I'm teasing you, Dylan! The
boss told me to look for these reports from you." I go, "Oh, well..." and
she adds, "Mr. D. is still in the meeting about that OSHA business, but
he'll see your reports first thing when they're finished with that sad
business." I go, "Yeah well, okay then. Jeez, Dottie, you had me going
there for a second when you asked what these reports were all about." She
chuckles, and says, "Well, you're awesome, Dylan, but it doesn't take much
to, um, 'get you going', dear. It's hard to resist teasing you a little bit
to see your cute face blush." I'm blushing like a madman now, as she adds,
"But seriously, it has been a real pleasure having you working with us this
summer and, um, wait a second."

She goes through some papers on her desk coming up with an envelope,
saying, "You won't be here Monday so Mr. Dickers wanted me to be sure to
give you this today," I take the envelope thinking "BONUS" and say, 'Thank
you, um, it's been a great experience for me. Working here, I mean." She
nods, muttering, "I'm glad," and I look at my watch wondering if I'm
supposed to wait for Mr. Dickers, or what...



Hmmm, she said he's still at the meeting but does that mean I should wait?
Dottie's still looking at me as I stand here, but now I'm getting the
impression it's more like a 'look' that's asking... why are you still here?
I finally go, "Um, okay then, I'll be in my, um, meeting room." She grins,
"Sure, Dylan, you did a wonderful job this summer! I'll tell the boss
you're in your, um, meeting room."

What a bitch! No, that's not right; she's nice but she kids around too
much. I start to leave, but stop and ask, "Oh, um, I hate to bother you
again, Dottie, but how do I turn-in the company car?" She asks, "Where's it
parked?" I tell her and she writes it down, saying, "Give me the keys and
I'll see that it gets picked up." Cool! I give her the keys, mumbling,
'Thanks," and she nods, sort of looking at the hall where I'm guessing she
wants me to go, so I mumble, "Okay, that's that, I guess." She says, "Good
luck at college this year, Dylan!"

Smiling and nodding my head, I wait another two seconds to be sure there's
nothing else I need to do, and then say, "Bye, Dottie." She smiles, "Bye,
Dylan. I hope to see you again sometime." Nodding, I mutter, "Ha, oh, I
hope to see me, um, I mean you too." Fuck... that was awkward!

Walking down the hall I loosen my tie and decide I'll wait until I'm in my
office before looking at what's in this envelope. I'm too curious though
and can't wait until I get to my office so while walking across the
executive parking lot to my building I'm ripping open the envelope. Hmmm, a
check for $500. That seems like a great bonus! Damn, I nailed this fucking
summer job!

Feeling really good I sit in my, um, office and realize I don't have a ride
home. I'll need to wait until Rob's done with the meeting and knowing
Mr. Dickers' meetings, that could be a long wait. I pass the time staring
at the bonus check feeling disappointed there isn't a note or something
complimenting me about the job I did. A little praise would go a long
way. Yeah but maybe they feel the $500 says it all. Huh, I wonder if Rob
will get a bonus and how much that'll be? Isn't that typical of an ingrate
though? Meaning me! Fuck, $500 is fantastic, praising note or not!

It gets boring looking at the bonus check, so I fold it and put it in my
wallet. The wait for Rob goes on past five-fifteen though and I'm getting
antsy just sitting here, so fuck it! He might still be at that meeting but
I text him anyway, and Rob texts right back, 'Oh, you're still here. I
thought you'd left for home.'  I text him that I turned in the company car
and he goes, 'Well I'm almost ready to go, babe. I'll meet you at my pickup
in fifteen minutes. I'm parked where I always park. 'Okay then!'

Looking around one last time I leave this meeting room/office, probably
never to be in here again. I walk out carrying the, um, satchel thingie; I
forget what else this thing is called. Of course, it's not really mine to
start with but I'm keeping it anyway as a reminder of my best summer job
ever!

Lighting a cigarette as I'm walking back across the executive parking lot
to Rob's pickup I'm thinking crazy thoughts about reunion sex with my
boyfriend. Basically, I'm wondering how much hotter it might be if during
the last forty-eight hours I hadn't had all that side and buddy-sex? Hmmm,
truthfully though I think my anticipation would be just as high because
Robby and I do 'it' better than anyone; there's no comparison. It's apples
and oranges, or however that saying goes.

Leaning against Rob's pickup truck I remember him saying his Dad doesn't
want employees smoking around the building. Fuck! I step on the cigarette
and then think of Chub's and my new car and how tomorrow we're going for my
first ride in that bitch. I hope Rob comes with us. Speaking of Rob, here
he comes strolling out the door looking like a young executive. I start to
walk toward him but my right foot step right out of Danny's
loafer. Haha... embarrassing!



Robby laughs as I step back, putting my stocking foot in the shoe. He gets
to me and pats my shoulder, saying, "The shoes are Danny's too, I assume."
I mumble, "Yeah, but if I didn't borrow his suit I'd be wearing my sports
coat and khakis..." and, as we get in the pickup I again explain that my
suits need to be dry cleaned and how lucky it was Danny had a suit I could
wear. But am I explaining too much? Too many details as if I have a guilty
conscience... is that why I'm babbling so much?

During the drive home I'm still explaining, "And I thought I'd be meeting
with your Dad about the Hartford report today and, I don't know, but a suit
seemed more business-like than a sports coat." Robby asks, "So yeah, but
what's up with staying at Danny's, other than you needing his clothes. I
mean, I can't remember you ever thinking you were too drunk to drive." I
shrug, "No, your Dad is very emphatic about not drinking and
driving. Remember that time he was saying..."

Rob glances over giving me a smirking 'look' and I drop that train of
thought and try another one, sounding slightly whiny, "Well you were off to
Westborough and Danny said to give him a call if I was free last night. One
thing led to another... that's about it. Ya know, I put a very drunk Danny
to bed and for all I know he might still be in bed. I mean he was so
smashed." Rob mutters, "I'm sure there's more to that story but I don't
suppose I need to hear it. Let me tell you about what happened to me last
night," and he begins telling me.

While listening to Rob's description of his activities last night I'm
macabrely disappointed he never saw the dead guy and that he skips over any
details about how he was killed and interesting shit like that. I'd be
interested in, ya know, what the guy looked like and... um, I don't
know. Rob tells me he mostly was just reading boring instructions on forms
he printed out about OSHA while his Dad and another manager took statements
from the overtime crew. This morning they got statements from the other
employees and met with Government officials in Worcester and blah, blah,
blah.

After a while, I'm only half listening because I'm more interested in
analyzing Rob's brief reaction to Danny and me sleeping together. I'm not
sure if I'm relieved he's so seemingly blase, so casual about that or if
I'm put off a little that he isn't more upset about it. Yeah, I know,
that's weird of me. I should be content that it's apparently no big deal,
assuming it is no big deal. I'm having trouble reading Robby's
reaction. No, more accurately... it's his lack of reaction. But then he was
kinda hyper earlier on the phone so maybe... oh, I don't know.

I stop trying to analyze Rob settling on a positive note by thinking it
must be that Rob's apparent lack of concern centers around the fact he
doesn't consider Danny any kind of threat to our relationship and so he's
chalking it up to merely a buddy sex thing among us gay buddies... which is
all it was anyhow!

Perhaps a deeper thought is: How long will Rob and I be 'good',
relationship-wise, with things like that so-called sleepover with a gay
friend? I really don't know the answer to that. I do know that I'm not
especially jealous when Rob and Danny have buddy sex and it's probably for
the same reason Rob's not jealous of me and Danny having it. Oooh, that
sounded smug and dismissive of Danny. I don't mean it like that, but then I
don't really know what I mean.

Robby's saying, "... so I told him to fuck off, I'm only doing what I was
told to do and if he doesn't like it that's too fucking bad for him. What
an asshole!" Huh? I go, "You didn't get in any trouble did you?" Driving up
to a red light, he glances over at me, "Why would I get in trouble. That
lady didn't know me." Nodding, I mumble, "Oh yeah, right." I have no idea
what he was talking about.

Rob starts to go on the green light and then slams on the brakes, yelling,
"Did you see that dip-shit walk right out in the street? Fucking idiot!" I
mumble, "People do that all the time, Rob. Roads were originally made for
motor vehicles but have now become primarily for the use of people to walk
on, or use for marathon races, or riding bikes... and they have the right
of way too. They don't need to look where they're going; it's now up to us
drivers to watch out for them." Rob mutters something under his breath as
he turns onto his street and then says, "I'm still a little stressed I
guess. Damn, I actually knew Art Steins. He's the guy who was accidentally
killed last night. Well, I didn't know him per se but I talked to him once
or twice and he seemed like this quiet, nice guy, and he has a wife and a
kid. I feel terrible about the whole thing." I go, "It's awful."

We go inside and Mrs. D. gives Rob a hug and me a pat on my back, saying,
"Good to have both you handsome boys home! It was so quiet here last
night. Ooh, Rob, you know I hate being in the house alone!" Robby gives me
a 'look' and then asks, "What's for dinner, Mom?" Was that 'look' because I
should have stayed here last night so his Mom wouldn't be alone?
Mrs. D. says, "Dinner? Oh, honey, I wasn't planning on fixing a dinner
tonight. Things have been too hectic. And I don't know when your father's
going to be getting home. Why don't you boys just order a pizza; I'll pay
for it. Whenever your Dad gets here he and I will probably get something to
eat at Remmy's Cafe on route 9, or I'll make sandwiches and...."

Robby cuts his Mom off by sarcastically saying too loudly, "Order a pizza?
For a Friday night dinner, Mother? I've had a damn stressful time last
night and today and you want me to order eff'en pizza for dinner? What, am
I back at college? Plus, I had a shitty night's sleep in that roach motel
too. I've been looking forward to a nice meal, and Dylan has too." I go,
"No, I wasn't thinking about..." and she says, "Oh, for heaven's sake,
Robert! Okay, I'll defrost a couple of steaks in the microwave that you can
cook on the gas grill for you and your brother, um, you and Dylan." Rob
mumbles a sarcastic, "Thank you so much. What else will we have?" She does
an exasperated exhale, saying, "Maybe a salad and some quick mac and cheese
I can make that up from the box mix." Rob yells, "Mac and cheese with
steaks! Are you kidding me?"

I drift out of the kitchen carrying my clothes from last night and go
upstairs to our bedroom. Dropping off the clothes I go to the hall bath to
take a piss and wash up. I get so uncomfortable at the way Rob talks back
to his Mom!

Washing my hands, I hear Rob clumping up the stairs and he comes in the
bathroom to hug me from behind and then, after kissing the side of my face,
he murmurs, "Can you guess who's gonna get fucked hard and long any second
now?" God, that makes my dick flip around in my, um, I mean Danny's jockey
shorts. I can't believe how aroused I got from Robby saying that. Jeez, and
I'm not horny either! It's only Rob who can get me so quickly aroused like
this.

My head leans back on his shoulder and he kisses the side of my forehead,
murmuring, "Ah, my boyfriend smells so good," and his hands slide down to
grab my crotch. He squeezes a little too tightly making me go, "Ow," as
he's saying, "It's pathetic how horny you make me. When I saw you in your
office this afternoon I couldn't catch my breath. You get sexier every
day. And it's not fair you've been away from me so much this summer." He
humps against my ass squeezing my nuts too hard again. I go, "Ow, Rob!" as
he's adding, "When I walked into your office you looked just like you did
in high school working on the school paper. You still look like you're
seventeen and, um, haha, wearing your big brother's clothes I guess. If you
had a big brother I mean. You're so fucking cute too!" and he bites my ear.

Jesus, I've got chills all over me. He stops squeezing my balls and pats my
firming-up dick instead. He's grinning at me in the mirror over the sink
and now I'm thinking... what the fuck, he's the one who looks sexy and
cute! Yeah, and maybe his long hair is okay too. It now looks like a 1980's
rich Ivy League guy's long-haired, college-student 'look' ... and it kinda
works for Robby, or maybe I'm just used to it by now.

His blond hair, normally combed back on the sides is now halfway covering
his ears and his long bangs have drifted down across his forehead almost
covering his blue eyes. For some dumb reason, after all of Robby's
compliments and lovingly sexy remarks, I say, "You need a haircut," and
Robby steps back away from me, asking, "Did Dad put you up to that? He was
breaking my balls about me needing a haircut last night and this
morning. Jesus Christ, is that all you two think about?" I mutter, "I
didn't even see your Dad today!"

Christ! Rob's touchy. Turning around facing him with my arms going around
his waist to keep him from moving further away from me, I say, "I'm sorry,
Robby. Let's go back a few sentences. The part about me being irresistible
and therefore getting fucked any second now." He reluctantly grins,
muttering, 'Did I say irresistible? I don't recall saying that word, but I
should have," and he pulls at my pants. I help with that by unbuckling my
belt. When Danny's suit pants drop to the floor, Robby mumbles, "Go ahead
and take those pants all the way off... those big loafers too."

I do that and then stand here in my shirt, socks, and underpants watching
Robby kick Danny's suit pants in the corner on the bathroom floor. Very
unlike Rob to treat clothes that way. I give him a questioning 'look' and
then he pulls down Danny's underpants that I'm wearing and I step out of
them too. Rob rubs my dick and then takes it in his fingers stretching it
out, saying, "I've got a lot of pent-up need to fuck my boyfriend, who I
hardly ever see anymore." I mumble, "I live with you, Robby. You see me all
the time," and he lets go of my cock, mumbling, "No I don't."

As he takes off his suit jacket and unzips his suit pants I'm thinking
about how intense he is and how unusual that is for him. Well, more than
that it's how he's vacillating between being really sweet and then the next
minute being really intense. Rob's holding his fat penis out, the head of
it covered completely in the foreskin. I look at him and he says, "Well?"
Oh, I drop to my knees and take his cock in my fingers eager to suck a hard
boner on his awesomely fat cock. Robby has an expression on his face, like:
'Get to it'.



Licking his penis from the root to the head three times I accidentally
scrape my tongue on the zipper of his pants and mutter, 'Fuck' under my
breath and then lick and suck on his entire cock, leaving the foreskin
covering the head. Then, looking up at Rob, I go, "Um, wouldn't it be a lot
better if you drop your pants? Um, I could lick your nuts too." He goes,
"Good call, baby," and I let go of his cock that's shiny with my saliva. He
unbuckles and then drops his pants and underwear. I help get both pieces of
clothing over his shoes and he goes," I'll take those." I hand them to him
and he hangs his pants on a hook that's on the back of the door and then
spreads his legs a little, murmuring, "Do this really good, Dylan... don't
disappoint me."

I've never heard him say anything like that before in my life so, I don't
know, I'm short of breath a little which is weird, but I still manage to
grunt, "Okay," and take hold of his cock again and then push his
shirt-tails up so I can get my mouth on the fat head. Christ, I'm feeling a
little nervous for some reason, but then it's like, "Mmmmm," as I taste his
dick and inhale his scent close up like this.

Forgetting about everything else, I pull back the foreskin to suck on the
big, wide head of his shortish cock and like always, it's a mouthful. I
shiver thinking about this fat cock when hard as a rock being inside me and
get shivers of anticipation. As I suck on the bulbous head my tongue is
licking all around and getting partially coated with the white stuff that
forms under the foreskin. Yeah, there's a substance that forms under the
foreskin in between a guy washing this area under the foreskin. The whitish
stuff is called smegma. An odd word that I learned years ago by Googling to
find out if it was normal when I noticed it under my foreskin.

Bottom line: smegma can get smelly and crusty if a guy doesn't clean it
regularly, which Rob does so there isn't a lot of that stuff under his
foreskin, and what's there isn't smelly. It has a slightly salty taste but
that's all I notice. It's gone in a flash and I concentrate on sucking his
dark-pink, bulbous cock head. I love doing that!

Rob grunts and shuffles his feet as the sensitive head of his cock gets my
mouth's full treatment, which is really something even if I do say so
myself. Rob's fingers play with my hair and rub my head as he's doing some
noisy breathing. When I've satisfied my taste for the head of his cock I
lick up and down the shaft again, suck on it and then lick it some more
until his penis is a big fat boner that I push up against his belly and
hold it there with my fingers as I begin licking his nuts. He doesn't have
a lot of hair down here but what there is gets licked quickly against his
pink scrotum and then I get my tongue under his balls close to his
asshole. Robby grunts again and then mutters, "Yeah, get my asshole too."
That was a crude for Robby to say, as he turns around pulling his boner
from my fingers. His cock is hard enough that it stays pointing up on its
own.

Licking my lips as I'm spreading his butt cheeks I then get my tongue
sliding over his asshole which flattens the few hairs in that area against
his skin. Pressing my tongue right on his asshole gets Rob squeezing his
butt cheek muscles and pushing his ass against my face. While he's cleaner
than most guys back here there's still an initial acrid taste that's
unpleasant. It's nothing compared to someone with a less than clean ass
like Dodger's. Last time I checked Dodger was still among the group who do
not wipe their ass properly. If you're gay and sexually active... take a
little extra time with that, for Christ sakes!

Anyway, the shitty acrid taste disappears quickly and the tip of my tongue
gets inside Rob's asshole a bit as I'm working to loosen his anus
muscles. While I'm doing that, in the back of my head I'm still thinking
that Rob's demeanor is 'off'. That's probably, understandably due to the
unpleasant job he's been involved in the past twenty-four hours. Thoughts
about that pass quickly though because rimming Rob's ass is a very
submissive act and I'm now feeling a delightful and relaxing submissiveness
sliding over me. That's what I concentrate on as my cock gets as hard as
Robby's.

My submissiveness grows the more I'm able to get my tongue up his ass. With
my arms around Rob's waist, I use my right hand to casually stroke his
hard, fat boner working the foreskin up and down and on and off the head as
much as it'll reach now that his penis is this hard and pretty much as long
as it gets. The combination of rimming his ass and stroking his boner gets
quiet, gasping moans from Rob, "Oooh, mmmm, oooh man, aaaah."

I like hearing sounds of arousal from my sex partner, especial from my
special lover so I lick and suck on his asshole with vigor feeling a deeper
submissive state floating over me. This feels so good and it being a state
of mind I've rarely felt this summer I'm totally receptive to letting it
get stronger and therefore create the sense that I'm being dominated. Most
of it I conjure up in my head, of course, but it's so nice and pleasant and
being with Robby makes it that much purer, that much better than anything.

Basically, in a dreamy trance now, my cock a roaringly hard and throbbing
boner, I'm so into this whole experience I barely hear Robby saying,
"That's enough. You'll make me cum." He turns around abruptly and of
course; my tongue pulls out of his ass partially shocking me back to
reality.

Rob's hands are under my arms now pulling me up, so I stand facing him with
a contented smile. He looks fine now too as he stares into my eyes while
reaches behind me and then gives my ass two hard smacks and of course two,
"SMACK! SMACK" sounds bounce off the tile walls. Robby murmurs, "Your
tongue is magic, Dylan." He looks so serious I maintain eye contact until
he says, "Turn around now and lean over the sink."

As I do that with my eyes half closed because I'm feeling really good with
a lot of the submissive sense hanging on. It occurs to me that Rob didn't
bring the lubricant from our bedroom but that's only a fleeting thought. I
don't feel like saying anything about it because I want this submissive
sense to stay with me. And then I don't need to say anything because Robby
smacks my ass again, "SMACK!" and I yelp because that stung, as he mutters,
"I'm feeling a bareback ride tonight. No lubricant. You know, the way we
did it for years, baby... san lube. It's a truer more natural way of doing
it, don't ya think?"

He doesn't wait for a reply. Right away I feel the head of his boner
against my asshole. It's wet with my spit and his pre-cum. That combo
should provide a bit of natural lubricant. I knew they'd be pre-cum because
I felt his cock dripping pre-cum on my fingers while I rimmed his ass and
stroked his boner.



As that fat head of his hard cock begins steadily spreading my anus it
quickly becomes obvious though that Nature's 'natural' lube ain't hacking
it; not when compared to KY jelly for example, or that space-age lubricant
we've been using recently. The pain comes in waves. Nothing new about
initial pain except without lubricant the entry is much harder, slower and
therefore the big 'hurt' hangs-on longer. I've become spoiled from the
lubricant usage.



Rob likes this though as he moans, "Ahhhhh, yeah, Dylan, this feels like
the real deal. Brings back great memories of our early sex together. It's
extra tight on my bad-boy-boner. Awesome!" I'm thinking: bad-boy-boner? Get
real, Rob... seriously? And fuck, that hurts! I go, "Oooh ow," and then
grit my teeth. I'm no pussy where pain is concerned, and at times I
actually embrace the pain that goes with the pleasure but I've forgotten
how initially unpleasant it is having an unlubricated boner as fat as
Robby's pushed up my ass. Rob's not forcing it in all the way either. It's
going in steadily though, a half-inch at a time and his so-called
bad-boy-boner is feeling extra fat tonight. Pain balloons are popping in my
head as I hold my breath because I'm not yet noticing any pleasure mixed-in
with the hurt back there.



Rob's goes, "This is perfect, babe, don'cha think?" I'm gasping in a
lungful of oxygen, but still manage to grunt, "It kinda hurts actually,"
and he rubs my back, murmuring, "Sure it does, a little anyhow, but that's
normal and you can handle it." His hand from my back moves down to join his
other hand tightly gripping my waist, both hands exerting pressure to keep
the front of my thighs and therefore my dick tight against the front of the
vanity under the sink. By now I'm lying right over the sink gripping the
edges of it with both hands, my eyes tightly shut with my face scrunched-up
as I'm trying hard not to scream.

Another hump of the hips pushes his hard, fat boner a little further up my
ass and I make a long 'Sisssss-ing' noise forcing air from my lungs between
clenched teeth. Taking a hand from my right hip Rob casually smacks my ass,
"SMACK!" saying, "Please don't make that sound, babe. It's like fingernails
on a blackboard." Oh yeah, when was the last time he saw a fucking
blackboard? I gotta admit though his reprimand and the smack on my ass
somehow pushed me into a deeper submissive frame of mind and I try telling
myself that this is good; a dominant rough fuck from my boyfriend. Hell,
it's what I'm always talking about and maybe I won't need to look elsewhere
for that if Robby is gonna take care of the 'dominant' part ' himself.

Yeah, except it still hurts like a mother-fucker. Adjusting my thinking
further, I convince myself to like it and I'm finally able to begin
embracing the process; yeah, the hurt simply goes with it and will make the
pleasure when it comes seem that much greater by comparison. Another thrust
of his hips and Robby's finally tight against my buttocks humping against
me with his fat boner fully impaling me. I said he's 'finally' tight
against my buttocks which makes it sound like it took forever when it
actually took only about twenty-seconds. It just seemed longer...

Ah ha, now I definitely feel a sizzle of sexy pleasure sensations buzzing
off my prostate which is extremely encouraging even though all around my
very stretched anus the lips still burn and sting like fire. Still, the
sexual pleasure parts of my rectum's nerve endings are all apparently
trying to get their act together. Pleasure is just around the corner if Rob
will just wait a little longer before pulling that fat boner of his back
out.

He doesn't wait though and I make a different sound, a whiny one, "Ouuuuu"
sound which Rob ignores as he pulls his boner all the way back, and then it
comes completely out of my ass. He curses, "Fuck!" and then smacks my ass,
"SMACK!" like it's my fucking fault. I whine, "Ow," as the hard head of his
boner pokes back into my ass. This time when it slides over my prostate
gland I can't help but murmur, "Ooooh, mmmmm..."

Rob's fingers dig into the skin on my hips as he withdraws his boner again,
muttering, "Okay, here we go," and then it's hard and fast thrusting with
the expected, 'SLAPSLAPSLAPSLAP," sounds ringing in our ears, made louder
coming off the tile walls of the bathroom. By the third thrust, most of the
hurt vanishes just like it always does and now fantastic sparks of pleasure
burst onto the scene as my prostate absolutely sizzles with pleasure and my
stretched asshole begins getting that tantalizingly itchy awesome thing
going for it. My earlier complaints and groans are now moans of pleasure,
'Ooh, ooh, ooh Rob, ooh, ooh, ooh."

As good as this feels it'd be so much better if my boner wasn't awkwardly
pointing down and trapped against the front of the vanity. Rob's putting
too much forward pressure on my hips for me to move far enough away from
the vanity for my six-inch boner to pop up where it desperately wants to
be. I gotta admit though, when Robby came into the bathroom he mentioned a
hard fast fuck and this definitely qualifies. It's rougher than normal but
I'm not complaining. Unfortunately for me, my position up against the
vanity, lying flat on top of it, means the top of my head bumps the spigot
with every hard thrust so that isn't exactly perfect but then few things
are.

His fat boner is very tightly and now more smoothly traveling back and
forth in my rectum exciting every nerve ending it touches... my prostate
gland is constantly screaming with sexual pleasure and it's become so
intense it sets off nerve ending all around my pelvic region to sizzling
until I can hardly stand it but at the same time I never want it to stop.

I wasn't even horny when we began so my normal fast climax is extended
three or four minutes; minutes of extra sexual ecstasy with no signs of a
building orgasm yet. Yeah, normally I'd be blowing my load by now. And then
that thought jinxed me I guess because it begins happening; my climax comes
to life and, oh shit, once my climax ignites it rapidly builds like a
runaway freight train. My building climax is close to blowing mere seconds
after it ignited. I was going along fine and then BANG it's here and I
don't even try holding it back because the anticipation of it is
overwhelming and I can't wait to experience it. I'm holding my breath again
but this time in anticipation of the miracle known as an orgasmic climax.

Robby hasn't let up the pounding he's giving my ass. The quickening
"SLAPSLAPSLAP," sounds seem to be announcing the arrival of a thrilling
climax. Everything seems to get bigger and brighter with each passing
second until every muscle in my body contracts and I squeal with cum
streaking from my boner. It flashes straight down to splat on the tile
floor. One long string of cum and then another almost as long as my eyes
blink spastically at the unimaginable sensations flying around my groin and
spreading out with my body trying to shake but sputters-out because Rob has
me too tightly against the sink. My shoulders are able to do plenty of
shuddering though as the after-effects of that climax zip around for a
fleeting five or six seconds before evaporating into thin air, and then I'm
limp and more or less floppy on top of the sink. Rob's still fucking me
hard and fast of course, "SLAPSLAP!" And... ooooh, fuck....

Jostling against the vanity and mostly sliding on the porcelain sink with
the top of my head bumping routinely against the spigot for another, oh I
don't know, maybe two or three minutes before Rob's tight against my ass
humping and breathing noisily. Then he gasps and his body shudders against
my ass as cum blows into my rectum creating a second or two of perceived
extra warmth before the sloppiness of his cum inside me becomes very
noticeable. There are another couple of humps against my buttocks and a
long, noisy, gasping exhale from Robby before he pulls his fat cock out of
my ass. Putting a hand on my back, Rob's out-of-breath while grunting,
'Stay where you are, babe."

Turning my head as much as I can, I see Rob bent over with his hands on his
knees breathing deeply. His cock still looking pretty hard. He straightens
up, smacks my ass, 'SMACK!" and takes another deep breath. My heart's
pounding nicely, faster than normal but mostly I'm feeling good with mild
vibrations simmering inside me. I take this opportunity to push away from
the vanity enough to get my now soft dick pulled up before Rob pushes my
ass and getting me tight against the vanity again. Oh good, my cock
pointing up this time with Rob again muttering, "Just stay like you are."

I don't mind remaining bent over the sink because this can only mean one
thing, we're going for a rare double-header. Rob said he's been missing me,
and Danny hinted that he and Rob never got together this past week, so my
boyfriend needs his sexual relief and I'm glad to be of service. Damn,
after this weird summer of almost abstinence things have turned around
dramatically for me the last two days.

Rob gets behind me again and kneads my butt cheeks with his strong hands
for a few seconds and then spreads them, saying, "Christ, did I ever open
you up back here, holy shit! It looks inviting though..." and another hard,
"SMACK!" on my ass that I ignore. Rob murmurs, "Yep, we're going for
seconds. Okay, boyfriend?" and another "SMACK!" on my ass. I'd complain
about the excessive smacks on my ass except I'm the one who is always
saying... let's do it rough. Instead of complaining, I go, "I'm always
ready, boss."

Rob mumbles, "We'll see about that," and after stroking himself a few times
he thrust his still fairly hard cock back up my ass. This time it goes in
all the way and while it still hurt a little his cum is a good lubricant
and that helps. Rob starts a steady thrusting that's not nearly as hard or
as fast as the first time which tells me we're in for a much longer ride.

His fat and hard steadily moving cock still feels tight in my rectum even
though I'm opened up back there like Rob said. And, like I said, Rob's cum
smooths the way for an easier go of it this time. My anus's elasticity
accommodates that fat organ of Rob's easily while the walls of my rectum
are still gripping it tightly which excites all the nerve ending creating
all these delicious pleasure sensations unique to anal sex. Of course, the
largest pleasure producer is the fantastic gland known as the prostate
gland. What a treasure that thing is! No way to describe the extent and
depth of sexual pleasure coming off that genius part of my body. A
masterpiece of Nature's happenstance evolving somehow in us human
animals. I don't know about non-human animals, not that I give much of a
shit anyway. I don't live on a farm...

I could definitely be in a better situation than lying over this fucking
sink though. Still, I'm enjoying the feel of Rob's steadily moving hard
penis inside my rectum and he's enjoying it too obviously, so I don't
complain. To be fair I try considering his pleasure for a second but I
can't do that for long. I return quickly to appreciating how awesome it
makes me feel. There are only subtle 'Slap, slap," sounds this time and
that's because the desperate need of sexual relief Rob felt has been
satisfied. Like most second fucks that happen this close to a first one,
they tend to last a deliciously long time and Rob's doing everything just
about perfectly. Huh, I wonder if it's possible to ever get tired of doing
this? I sort of doubt it.

After, well I don't know how long, my cock begins firming up again and
feeling oh so good. Everything's blending together and it gets dreamy and
hypnotic for me, especially the quieter 'Slap, slap," sounds. Just
wonderful sex with a mantra of, "Ooh, ooh, ooh," sounds of sexual pleasure
in the background. Only slowly do I realize it's me making those
sounds... haha... sweet!



I'm thinking it's been ten minutes or more of this constantly awesome fuck
but I lose track of time completely after that as I drift in a world of
sexual pleasure... floating and feeling wonderfully dominated. I'd like it
to go on for a very long time but then I feel the stirrings of a new orgasm
which I knew would follow my cock boning-up, but I was hoping it wouldn't
develop so quickly during this second fuck. Still, the thought of another
climax excites me all over again.

It's the same deal for me though, meaning once my orgasm begins building
it's a nonstop express that builds and builds for less than a minute before
I'm really feeling it and I shortly hear my own whining sounds of 'needing
to climax' with my hips trying to hump but can't against the vanity... and
then it's gonna blow! I gasp out a squeal with a watery substance spurting
up and out of my hard cock to plops onto the top of the vanity. Shivers all
over me with my shoulders shuddering like mad. It felt like much more than
a plop of, um, whatever it was but that's all I got. I tighten all the
muscles in my stomach and groin hoping for one more plop of something
because it felt awesome coming out. Nothing more develops,
unfortunately. Still, there's some great after effects for maybe ten
seconds...

After that, I have the same weak and almost limp feeling I always get after
a climax no matter the size. Oh man, that felt good though and I sigh
contentedly. Rob's still thrusting steadily and he's got a really hard fat
boner to work with. Damn though, I'm actually beginning to notice the first
signs of some irritation around the rim of my asshole, the lips of my anus
to be specific. This is very rare but all the fucking on my ass the past
two days have apparently taken a toll. I guess I'm not used to this much
sex; not this summer I'm not. In my younger days I could... oh fuck that,
forget about the past. Damn though, the soreness back there is getting more
noticeable by the second.

Now the "Slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds are much more pronounced and
Jesus, Rob's gotta be getting close to his second climax! As a matter of
fact, he should have experienced it way before I did since he was the horny
one. Fuck, that fat boner is hurting as he continues thrusting, still
fucking me, and it's beginning to get painful. I can't say anything though
because it's usually me who wants more and more and more. Well, I'm getting
more and more now and it's not sexy anymore. This never-ending doubleheader
is presenting a new problem for me!

Rob actually begins harder thrusting now and I wait a minute more and then
grunt, "It's hurting me, Robby!" He keeps it up as thoughts run around in
my brain that maybe he wasn't as 'okay' about me spending the night with
Danny as he appeared to be. This feels like a, um, punishment fuck or
something. We don't do punishment fucks! Not Rob and I!

My attempt at lifting up off the sink has Rob pushing me back down with a
hand on my back as he grunts out, "I'm almost there, babe," and then ten
seconds later he's against my ass breathing noisily and I suppose having
his second climax. Good! But after breathing deeply for thirty seconds he's
back to humping his cock up my ass and I complain again, "No, Robby, that
fuckin' hurts," and this time he pulls his cock right out, muttering, "Well
I'm so sorry our sex together makes your ass sore." That definitely had
some underlying meaning. I stay on top of the sink for a few seconds
fighting the urge to put my hands back on my very sore rectum. What good
would that do anyway?

Slowly lifting up off the sink I'm grimacing a little, surprised that it
hurt my ass just lifting up from the sink. What the fuck? Not sure what's
going on, I turn around mumbling, "I hope you, um, got 'off' again. Sorry
for complaining but it's just that, I don't know, maybe it's because I was
lying over the sink like that, or..." He wraps me in his arms and sways us
side to side a little before murmuring, "No, it's me who's sorry, Dylan. I
should have stopped sooner. I hate that I was mean to you, but..."

Jeez, I don't know what to think now. He kisses the side of my forehead,
asking, 'Well, um, what'd you think about everything, babe?" I shrug in his
arms, my arms loosely around his waist, as I say, "Um, I think I won't
sleep at Danny's again." He grins, "No, it's, oh I don't know. I guess I
was jealous while trying to be Mr. Cool about it. C'mon, you need to lie
down and let me take care of your sore rear end." Frowning, I'm not sure
what we just agreed to, or if we even had an understanding there, or what
the fuck? I move with Rob as he's saying, "Jeez, I saw my handprint in some
of those smacks I gave your ass." I mutter, "I'm not surprised."

He keeps his arm around my waist as I take another step towards the door,
grunting, "Ow, oh..." Rob asks, "Your ass is too sore for walking, huh? Oh
man, I'm sorry. I've heard if you walk with your legs a little spread apart
it's better." I give him a 'look' as he opens the door. Then I stop, "No
Robby! Christ, we can't walk out there, we don't have our pants on!" He
goes, "Mom's making French fries from scratch, no worries 'cause that takes
a while. C'mon," and he guides me down the hall, both our dicks swinging in
the breeze.

In the bedroom, Rob helps me lie on the bed, "On your stomach, babe." I go,
"I don't need any fucking help to lie down. Gawd!" He's grinning, "Oh, just
trying to help. Stay there," and he goes back to the bathroom. Fuck, I
can't help but grin to myself. Guess I don't need to worry about Robby
being blasé about me spending the night with someone. I think I like
the fact he didn't like that.

He's back with a warm wet washcloth in one hand and all our clothes over
his other arm. He kicks the bedroom door shut behind him and then drops our
clothes on the desk chair in a pile. Nodding at the clothes, he says, "All
those things are headed for the cleaners or hamper anyway, so...," as if he
needs to explain why he didn't hang them up like he normally would do. He
murmurs, "I'm gonna clean that wide open asshole of yours and then put on
this cream, well it's called a gel here on the tube. It'll soothe your hurt
bumper." I frown, muttering, "Bumper, Rob?" He chuckles, saying, "Okay,
your ass. This cream is a moisturizer that's enriched with Hyaluronic Acid,
whatever the fuck that is. I've used it on myself and it works great."

First, he gently wipes his cum off my ass and then around the inside of my
anus lips with the warm damp washcloth. I'm wondering if he used that gel
for the same purpose on himself that he's using it for me. That's a thought
with negative connotations though so instead I think about how nice he's
being now. Oh fuck, I love being taken care of! But then, who doesn't?

After wiping my butt, he uses his fingers to spread the gel all around and
then a little inside my asshole as he murmurs, "Your incredible asshole has
closed up a little already. Damn but you have a cute ass!" Yeah, I do, and
wow, that gel feels good! I go, "Dude, that feels great!" Then he probably
puts too much on because it feels like a lot of gunk back there, but the
stinging is completely gone. Rob sort of smirks, saying, "I hope you can
walk okay now," and I snort out a laugh and then mutter, "You prick." He
pats my ass and snickers a little.

Twisting the cap back on the tube of, well whatever he said that stuff was,
Rob goes, "Rest here, Dylan. I'll clean up your jism in the bathroom and
then clean myself up, okay?" I go, "Yes, Daddy," and he laughs. He doesn't
leave though. First, he gets a pair of his jockey shorts from the bureau
and pulls then on past my feet as I lie here on my stomach. He pulls the
underwear up my legs to my ass and then gives me a 'look'. Making another
'face' at him, I lift my hips off the bed and he pulls the underpants on me
the rest of the way and gently pats my ass.

A lot of my clothes are here, of course, mixed in with Robby's clothes but
he chose a pair of his underpants. It could have been because they were in
the drawer on top but when he lays out his high school baseball sweatshirt
and a pair of his sweatpants, saying, 'Get dressed whenever you feel like
it," I can't help but wonder if he's replacing Danny's clothes with his. No
problem though, I like wearing Robby's clothes the same way I used to like
wearing Chubby's clothes.

I might be over analyzing the situation again as far as the 'clothing
choices' but Rob almost admitted he overdid the fucking because he was
pissed-off I spent that night with Danny, so maybe I'm not overanalyzing
the situation. In any case, I somehow feel really good about this little
adventure of ours. Sleeping with Danny was a big fat nothing but Rob
doesn't know that, and I might not tell him either. Or I probably will.

We speak of it no more during a really tasty dinner of steaks cooked
perfectly on the grille by me. The whole time the steaks are grilling
Robby's hovering and saying, every twenty seconds, "Shouldn't we turn them
over now, babe?" The 'scratch' French fries Mrs. Dickers cooked in her deep
fat fryer were as good as any restaurant's fries I've ever had and the
salad was good too with ripe Jersey tomatoes and cucumbers covered in a
good Italian dressing, also made from scratch by Mrs. D. I'm reevaluating
her cooking prowess as compared to Mrs. Wilcox's. I used to think
Mrs. Wilcox's cooking abilities were superior to Rob's Mom's, but maybe
not.

After dinner, Rob asks me nicely, probably feeling guilty for overdoing the
sex, "Whaddaya feel like doing now, Dylan?" Yeah, what do I feel like doing
now? No, not that! My ass couldn't handle it yet, but maybe later...


to be continued...

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

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

Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published
and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for
next to nothing. 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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