Date: Fri, 30 Jan 2015 15:45:30 -0500 From: MGTBILL@aol.com Subject: DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR Chapter 33 DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR Chapter 33 by Donny Mumford Ryan and I have been on a bit of a roller-coaster ride of emotions in his dorm this afternoon. Mostly my emotions. No, not a roller coaster so much as The Wild Mouse ride on the Wildwood boardwalk: fast starts with abrupt stops, then you think you're going over the edge, but no you're jerked back for another quick drop, then up again really fast. It started with Ryan's text and me asking him to hang out with me. Then him innocently asking for a haircut, which wouldn't normally be a big deal, except it was for me. There's been this growing sexual heat, a secret hot desire building up inside me for Ryan. It's been building for almost two months now and it's gotten to be very much like the heat I had for him during the last semester of freshman year. No one but me was aware of this unexpected development until this afternoon when I told Ryan, surprising him quite a bit. Before I told him though, being alone with him for the first time in seven or eight weeks caused some odd behavior on my part, very odd. It finally culminated with me breaking down and telling him I loved him and wanting him to fuck me. Like I said, it was very surprising news to Ryan and he actually looked shocked when I told him. However, in the end, this afternoon's wild ride of emotions was sort of anticlimactic. After an up and down couple of hours, and a number of false starts, we ended up in an extremely hot make-out. Unfortunately I climaxed in my pants before we got around to doing any sex. I didn't even get to suck his big cock. So, no actual sex. Like I said, I've had this serious sexual heat for Ryan and when adding that to the fact he happens to be the best make-out dude on the planet, the combination got me cumming in my pants. Awesome orgasm too, but very premature and kind of embarrassing because it's a move a sexual rookie makes. While we were contemplating everything, laying on his bed together, Ryan rethought what it would mean for him to have sex with me. His dominant sex partner, fuckwad Marty, doesn't allow Ryan to have sex with anyone but him. He'll dump Ryan if he screws me and fuckwad finds out about it. Ryan's been happily into his sex role as submissive bottom for his roommate, so having sex with me became a bit of a dilemma for him. We discussed it and he finally decided to follow my advise and blatantly lie to Marty about it. Lie by omission, meaning Ryan and I will have sex together but he won't tell the fuckwad. Seems an obvious solution to me, but Ryan had to be sold on the idea. The thing is, as of now there's nothing for Ryan to lie about. Hopefully he'll have a reason to lie sooner rather than later. This might be construed as me being the evil little devil on Ryan's shoulder tempting him to go back on his promise to fuckwad, and I guess I am, but Ryan seems a willing accomplice. In a nutshell that's pretty much our current situation. Prior to me confessing my revived sexual heat for him I gave Ryan a conservative preppy haircut that he thought looked too 'goody-two-shoes' for him and he finally decided on the old standby: a buzz cut. What 'goody-two-shoes' actually means I'm not sure. Most people wear two shoes of course, but what turns them into 'goodie' shoes alludes me? Not that I gives much of a shit about that. The real question is, how did I get back in this 'Ryan' frame of mind? The one where I think he's super hot sexually? How did that happen when I didn't feel this way earlier in the semester? Don't know why, but I've gotta wonder if it has anything to do with Robby taking his bossy in-charge responsibilities with me too seriously, making me subconsciously want to revert back to my more carefree days known as my alley-catting days. The more I contemplate doing that, the more I can't think of a good reason not to take up my old ways. I guess that's basically my justification for back-sliding... I can't see any reason not to. Robby and I are still in love and we're having very good sex together, but we were doing that when I was alley-catting around too. So, ya know, I should probably have some fun while I'm young. Marriage is at least three years off and I feel Robby and I are peaking way too early in our relationship. With sports teams it's important that their performance peaks at the right time of the season, which for them is the playoffs. Robby and I are a team and we should peak with our relationship at the playoffs too, which for us is marriage. As it is we're peaking three fucking years too soon. So, I've identified the problem and now I need to find a solution. Me doing a little alley-catting with Ryan and maybe others as well seems a part of the solution, but not all of it. I need to cool down Robby's runaway bossiness somehow without jeopardizing our long term relationship. Some of Robby's ideas for our married life together are okay, although inappropriate at this point in our lives. Hmmm, I've got to explain that tactfully to Robby and get us back on a more realistic track preparing for the playoffs, so to speak. And, at the same time have some damn good extemporaneous buddy sex that's much more appropriate for my age at this point in my life than monogamy. Luckily I've come to my senses in that regard, and just in time hopefully to save the marriage possibility. Fuck, one of us had to come to our senses and Robby didn't appear inclined to do that being he's having a really good time practicing his parenting skills with me playing the part of his child. I'm relatively positive he won't see it my way at first, but with gentle prodding and clever manipulation he'll eventually see the genius of my plan. 'Relatively positive' being an oxymoron of course, but that's how I feel. Anyway with this change I'm prepared for a bit of a rocky road in our relationship initially, but confident Robby and I can handle it for the simple and obvious reason that 'rocky road' describes our loving relationship up till last summer when his plans for us got too serious too soon. I was blinded by the light of his vision at first, but things change and now I'm seeing things differently beings that I'm wiser and older with more of a mature realistic outlook than Robby's. That may seem arrogant of me except my view of things happens to coincide with that of my brother, and Robby's brother as well, so I'm not alone in my reasoning. I added up the votes and it looks like three to one against Robby's 'too early' peaking plan. I have no intention of hurting Robby with my change of heart because I love him and want to eventually marry him if things can be worked out. He's got the marriage part right, but now is not the period in our love-life to start acting like a married couple. A more appropriate time would be the last few months before actually getting married. That's when our love affair should peak. I'm going to give the engagement ring back to him in as nice a way as possible, explaining he needs to hold on to it for a more appropriate time. We should wait to get engaged at a time when we don't need to keep it a secret. Robby wanted to keep it secret because, lets face it, he knew people would think it's silly. So there's a right time to do it and that's when we can announce it to the world at the same time. You know, without fear that anyone we know will mock us behind our backs. There could still be a couple of misguided losers who mock us even then, but they'll be few in number and basically, fuck 'em. Who cares what misguided losers think? It'd be too harsh explaining all this to Robby in these terms of course, but that's the bottom line. I'll sugar coat it for him and feed it to him in small doses so his ego doesn't get bruised. None of this have I shared with Ryan as it's personal between Robby and me. My conclusion developed during the time Ryan and I lay on the bed together thinking our own thoughts while listening to a CD play through twice. Oh yeah, we were smoking weed too. The true test of my plan will be when I'm out from under the influence of pot. Sure it's a cool sensation being under the influence of the psychoactive and physiological drug from the cannabis plant, aka marijuana. I'm inexperienced with it though, so I'll need to test my theory of peaking too soon in our relationship when I'm sober. I'm pretty friggin' sure my reasoning will also hold up when I'm stone sober, which I'm definitely not at the moment. Ryan's marijuana is good shit and not laced with crack, which I have no use for ever again. Ryan breaks our silence with, "Let me do a buzz cut for you now, Dylan. Why wait till next week when we can be twin boyfriends right now?" Hmmm, I'm not sure how much the drug is effecting my thinking, but by God that sounds like an awesome idea. Wait a minute, I thought we already did that. I'm like, "Didn't we do that earlier?" He goes, "No, you gave me a buzz cut earlier." I rub my fingers through his half inch buzz cut, "Oh yeah, Ryan, that's right. Then I shout, "It looks fucking cool on you, Ryan!" Maybe that was a little too enthusiastic of an endorsement because it sets us off on a laughing jag. We're falling against one another holding our stomachs laughing like crazy people. Oh fuck, I can't catch my breath. Then, when we calm down from the laughing jag Ryan still doesn't appear to think my endorsement of his buzz cut was over the top. He says, "Damn straight, my buzz cuts cool!" and start laughing again. Oh man, we run out of laughter, and Ryan says, "Sit your ass in the chair and I'll give you a buzz cut." I'm feeling dizzy from the grass and all our laughing as I sit down. Then I'm thinking there's a reason we didn't do this earlier. I can't remember what the reason is though. Ryan's throwing clipper guards out of my toiletry kit, saying, "Plug in the clippers, Dylan. I gotta find the right guard. It's hard to read these things." I hop up and plug in the clippers, asking, "What are you looking for?" He says, "The quarter-inch guard, remember?" Oh yeah, I do recall that now. I'm like, "Whoa, wait a fuckin' minute, we decided a quarter inch buzz is too short, remember?" Thinking I one-upped him on remembering stuff, but he just says, "Don't fucking worry about that detail, it'll be cool and I really wanna do it. Now sit the fuck down!" I'm like, "Oh, shit, yeah okay, that makes sense." Ryan's holding a clipper guard up to the light trying to read the number on it, mumbling, "That kid who cut your hair last time really screwed it up, but I'm gonna fix it for you." I'm thinking two things: one, Ryan talking about anyone screwing up a haircut is ironic considering he's the world's champion haircut screwer-upper. And, two, that was nicely dominant the way he said, 'Sit the fuck down!' with just the right touch of authority, plus a little grin to show everything's cool. Ryan always could pull off the dominant stuff better than anyone I've come in contact with. He says he doesn't want to be dominant with me, but he might get back into the dominant saddle for sex at times. Okay, now he's finally got the quarter-inch guard on the clippers and he turns then on, saying, "Take your shirt off and sit up a little straighter for me." I do both things and he puts his hand on top of my head pushing it forward until my chin hits my chest. Holding it there he runs the clippers up the back of my head. This is cool because I was thinking I'd like Ryan to give me a haircut earlier. I didn't think it'd be possible though due to Sonny giving me a haircut just the other day. I hear the clippers cutting through my hair and that sound of hairs being cut is kinda sexy to me. I like the sound, but not as much as Dodger I'd guess. You know, considering his haircut fetish and all that, but I really like cutting guys hair and getting mine cut too so I guess I have a mini fetish. As always when Ryan cuts my hair he does it too quickly with abrupt movements, but since there's a quarter-inch guard there isn't any way he can fuck it up. I hope that's true anyway. Ryan's a little on the rough side pushing my head around as he runs the clippers helter/skelter up the back and sides of my head with fine hair clippings flying all over the place. When he's cutting the hairs on top of my head he cups under my chin from behind lifting my head back against his stomach and he pulls the clipper from the front of my head to the back. Then he goes over the top of my head again, this time putting extra pressure on my scalp at my hairline and I hear a tiny extra amount of hairs being cut. He goes over the sides and back again pressing the guard against my scalp tightly and then finally stands back turning off the clippers. As he rubs my head getting clipping off, he says, "It's wicked short, Dylan, but very even. I'll work with the trimmer clippers now." Hearing that my dick tightens up because he gets in over his head using the trimmers, which basically shave the hair to the scalp. It's used to outline usually around the ears, but some barbers square off the hair at the back of the neck too. This is where my true submissiveness comes into play. By not objecting to him using the trimmer clippers, when I know from past experiences he fuck's that up royally, but I let him do it anyway... that's submissive behavior. I have a difficult time turning that down. The higher pitch sound of the trimmers starts up and a thought screams in my mind to tell him not to use them, but I subdue that thought and say nothing. Instead I'm enjoying my submissive trance. He roughly pushes my head to the side, "Don't move your head, okay, Dylan? I gotta be careful with these fucker's." I'm holding my breath as he pauses for a second, then says, "I'm not sure how to do this. Can you give me a lesson on how to use this trimmer thing?" I lose most of my submissive trance immediately, but feel relief too. "Sure, Ryan. Come over to the mirror and I'll do outlining again around your ears so you can see how I do it." He mumbles, "I used to know, but I wanna be sure, especially after I messed up your hair the last time I cut it. That was like two months ago I think." At the mirror I get my first glimpse of my quarter-inch buzz cut, and holy shit it's short! Like he said, he did it very evenly at least, so that's a plus. I feel my head surprised it's not as bristly as I've had it cut before. Willie's had various barbers cut it even shorter than this a couple of times. Also, without bragging, I gotta say I'm blessed with a great shaped head and what I consider the perfect hairline. So, like a few other guys I know, any haircut looks more or less good on me. I look at myself again and try not to smile, but I gotta admit I like my appearance. Ryan laughs, and says, "Yeah, yeah, I saw that smile. Yeah, you're cute and handsome and all that, ya lucky prick." I go, "Get real, lots of guys are better looking, and anyway I didn't have a fucking thing to do with how I look." He gets serious, "I cut your hair really short, Dylan, but it looks okay, don't ya think?" I say, "Yeah, you did a really good job, Ryan, thanks, dude." He shrugs, then searches for more compliments, "I didn't want to fuck-up again and I think I did alright, huh?" "Dude, great fucking job! I just told ya that." With Ryan watching in the mirror I show him the correct position of the trimmers when outlining and then follow my original outlining around his ears. He wants to see it twice, then he asks, "Shouldn't I do it along your hairline in front across your forehead, and in back at the neck hairline?" I say, "That's done by some barbers, yeah, but I don't like it for me. Mostly it's for guys that don't have perfect hairlines." He chuckles, "And you have a perfect hairline I suppose." I have to grin, "You twist everything I say around until it sounds like I'm bragging." He says, "Okay, just outline around your ears," and I nod my head. I sit down and he does the outlining carefully. Not too fast like he usually cuts my hair. "There, it's perfect, Dylan," and he brushes the clippings off my shoulders. "Thanks, Ryan, I'm proud of you, dude." He goes, "So I get to give you haircuts from now on, right?" I say, "For buzz cuts definitely." He rubs my head, "I loved doing that." We put everything away, but don't clean up because Ryan says, "I'll get all our clipped hairs off the floor later, Dylan. Our dorm's a mess anyway," He doesn't need to tell me twice because I'm not feeling the 'clean up' thing at the moment. I've gotta think the pot is still in my brain a little. Done the haircutting, Ryan goes, "I don't know if I told you, but Marty's got me jogging and now I feel I need to do it every day. It's habit forming and makes me feel good and healthy afterwards. How about it, lets go jogging around the track. It'll clear our heads of the pot." I make a face, and he adds, "Then we'll showers and get some dinner." This idea doesn't have a lot of appeal to me, so I mumble, "It's kinda cold for jogging, isn't it?" and he pats my shoulder, "We'll warm up quickly, trust me." I reluctantly get my sweatshirt on, the one with a hood. Ryan gives me a pair of wool knit gloves and out we go. He starts jogging right away so I follow him. Once on the track we jog side by side. "Could you handle a faster jog, Dylan?" I go, "No! This is fast enough," and he nods, grinning at me. It feels good to like being with Ryan again. I knew something was missing this year at college, and It's Ryan and me being tight. After once around the track I see he was right, I'm warm and loose so I push the hood off my head. After the second trip around the track I start breathing harder and harder wondering how many times around the track Ryan has in mind. He talks without apparent effort as he jogs, "I'm the baseball team's equipment manager as you know, or as you call it I'm the team's flunky. Be that as it may I've got to do some things Monday with the baseball equipment. So it'll be later than usual, but we'll lift weights after I do take care of the equipment, okay?" I nod my head and he says excitedly, "Hey, this year I've got an assistant too. I'll give him most of the flunky assignments. Anyway I already texted Rob about the delayed lifting time, so will you tell Chubby?" I go, "Uh huh," gasping for breath. The third trip around the track I'm keeping up with Ryan, but only through pride and not wanting to look like a wuss. Another hundred yards and I can't fuckin' believe I'm still jogging, and he wanted a faster pace! Bullshit to that. Looking at Ryan's face, he's still looks fresh and relaxed moving his legs smoothly. As for me, I don't know how I'm going to make it around again. Ryan looks over, "How ya doing?" I nod my head because I can't even grunt now. He says, "We'll just go around this time and then one more after that, then we'll run up the steps of the stadium. You'll feel the pull on your calf muscles mostly when going up hill. It an aerobic type exercise too." I can't even nod my head now. I'm gasping for breath, my leg muscles are aching and then luckily I get a cramp. We're just starting the last lap and I pull up limping. Ryan stops, sounding concerned, "Got a cramp, Dylan?" I nod my head pointing at my left leg. He helps me over to a bench and massages my calf, saying, "You better sit here while I finish my lap, okay?" I nod, trying to look disappointed I can't finish the lap with him, while inside I'm thinking, 'Thank God!'. Ryan runs the last lap at twice the speed we jogged together and then, after a short rest leaning over and breathing hard, he runs up and down the steps of the stadium three times. He comes over breathing hard with sweat dripping off his nose and chin. His glasses are fogged up as he plops down on the bench next to me and puts his arm across my shoulders, "Awesome feeling, huh? Whew, I'm winded." I'm looking at him feeling admiration for him as I lean against him. He feels me leaning against him, looks over at me and gives me a grin. Hugging around my head now, he pulls it over and kisses the top of my head. Two minutes later, he's like, "Come on, Dylan, lets take a shower." I'm looking forward to a hot shower and gratefully we walk back instead of jogging like I was afraid he'd want to do. We take a shower next to each other in the communal showers. There's a big kid with a rather small penis taking a shower five shower heads away from us. It's hard not to gawk at Ryan's big cock after seeing the big guy's small one. Nature's got a weird sense of humor. The more I glance at Ryan's dick the more I want to feel that big organ up my ass. It's been too long since I've felt that. Actually it's been even longer between our sex acts this sophomore year then it was when he moved to Georgia last summer. Ryan only has one clean towel so we share it with him chuckling, muttering, "I really should give a thought to hitting the laundromat, heh heh." We walk back to the room carrying our clothes with the towel around Ryan's waist and me wearing a light cotton bathrobe he let me use. I have a pleasant squirmy feeling in my dick walking with him and bumping against his side as he chatters away about how he got used to communal showers last year, as well as the communal lavatory in general. He tells me about how a bunch of guys got into a messy shaving cream fight before the Thanksgiving break, and blah, blah, blah, laughing and patting me on the back. I'm feeling a little bit of a hero worship thing for Ryan at the moment, thinking how he's much more involved in college life than I am. He lives in a dorm and eats at the dinning hall for one thing, and he's the baseball equipment managers for the baseball team, he's in our threesome, he's lifting with us and jogging almost every day with his roommate, plus he and fuckwad are doing sub/dom sex often, plus Ryan's in our study group and he's told me about a number of trips to Boston he, fuckwad, and Rex have made seeing The Blue Man Group and getting into some comedy clubs and meeting kids from different colleges at Quincy market, and all kinds of shit. He's had all that going on while I was busying myself building up this sexual tension and desire for him. That was my main activity. Aside from that, what the fuck am I doing? Not all that much. In his room again, I ask, "Aren't we going to, um, aren't you going to fuck me, Ryan?" He says, "Nope, not tonight, Dylan. We're taking it one step at a time and maybe this time if we gradually get into it and savor it, maybe then it'll stick." I ask, "What'll stick?" He goes, "You and me of course. In the past we acted like sex crazed maniacs gorging ourselves with each other sexually, and while I loved every second of it, it didn't last. Didn't have a long shelf life. Lets try to slide into it gradually this time. We had a hot make-out two hours ago and we've agreed to have a sexual relationship, so that's a damn good first date, wouldn't you say?" He sees my disappointment and give me a hug and a kiss. "I'm agreeing to take your advise, Dylan, right? We're going to have sex and I'm going to lie to Marty about it, but can't we try going slower than we did before? That's all I'm asking." I say, "Yeah, sure, I guess," and realize the pot isn't affecting me at all now. That's one thing that's better about weed than getting drunk. You're drunk for a long time and then you've got a hangover like Chubby's, but the weed 'high' doesn't last nearly as long and there's no noticeable hangover. Anyway, I guess we'll try it Ryan's way, but man do I have the hot's for him and I'm horny on top of everything else. Even so, this situation I'm in with Ryan right now is way better than it was before today. Before today there was no meaningful physical contact between us and now we've made-out and broken the log jam there, and we have a commitment to have sex in the near future. I rub my hand over my head glad he insisted on giving me this haircut. I look at his buzz cut as he pulls a clean sweater over his head. Yeah, with the buzz cut he looks extra hot. Twin boyfriends, that has a nice ring to it again. I'm still horny, but the future looks promising. Dressed, I say, "I wanna change these clothes before going out. I jogged in these clothes and shot spunk in 'em and I like to have fresh stuff on when I go out." He says, "You can wear some of mine," and I'm like, "What, and have the pant legs ankle-high like some nerd?" He chuckles, "You're breaking my balls about how tall I am, but ya better be careful with that or I might start ragging on you about your little dick." I go, "My dick is a perfect six inches. I should know, I measure it regularly." Ryan chuckles, then gooses me, asking, "Would you like to see what it's like eating in the dinning hall? We can use Marty's card to get you in." I shrug, "Lets treat ourselves to a nice meal at Burtons instead. I feel like having a steak for dinner." He says, "Yeah, that sounds good too," and my cell phone rings. Looking at the caller ID it's Robby, probably wanting to know what I'm doing. "Hi, Rob! Wassup?" He goes, "Ah, not much. Just waiting for dinner while drinking a beer, and then I'm hooking up with Danny. I'm meeting him in Weston for a party that one of the guys on the team is throwing. Mostly I'm wishing you were here." I say, "I didn't know there was a party tonight," and he's like, "I didn't either until two hours ago. Danny called to tell me about it, but he expected me to be with you. Since you're not here we're hooking up. I wish you were here though, both for tonight and for the family Sunday dinner too." "Who's coming to dinner tomorrow?" He says, "My grandparents, who will probably ask about you. What are you up to?" I go, "Ryan and I are hangin' out. We went jogging and we got reacquainted as twin boyfriends by giving each other buzz cuts. We also were making out a little earlier and I had an accident in my pants, heh heh." He laughs too, "You've been know to do that, and Ryan's an awesome make-out, so put two and two together. Hey, I'm a little jealous obviously, but glad you two are warming up to each other again." I ask, "Really?" and he says, "Yeah, really, why are you surprised? I mean, we've got some side-sex going for us, right? And I think it's good for us frankly. I'm thinking my brother and Chubby were right. I'm rushing things. Anyway, if you don't mind, I've been thinking we need to rethink some of our, um, my plans." Well, this is unexpected good news. And, ah ha, Dodger and Chubby on my behalf are getting through to Robby finally. Jesus, talk about a coincidence though! He wants to talk about exactly what I was planning on talking with him. Jeez, I thought I'd need to bring this up very carefully and now he's one step ahead of me. Ryan's frowning at me, shaking his head, so I chuckle, telling Robby, "Ryan's shocked I'm being so honest with you about what he and I have been doing together." He goes, "Oh, it's probably that thing where we're not suppose to share our side-sex affairs." I'm like, "Actually, we didn't have sex, Rob. Anyway we're going to Burtons for dinner, then to Tracy's probably. You know, for a beer or two. When do you want to have our discussion about things?" I'm adaptable so I've revised my plan on the fly. I'm now going to let this be all Robby's idea and not tell him I was thinking along the same lines. He says, "Lets talk soon, I want to apologize to Chub too and I already called Dodger and told him I appreciated him taking the time to talk some sense into me. We kind of reconnected too, and thank God for that. I've been feeling I'm out on an island all alone for awhile now. It started with what you and I talked about that night a couple of months ago at Dino's. Your conversation has been stewing in my head since then. I was an ass the way I handled that discussion, by the way, so I apologize to you too. You, Dodger and Chubby all feel I'm out of touch with reality and to a certain extent I've come to see it that way too. Anyway, have fun tonight, baby. I love you more than ever." "Me too, Rob, thanks. Can't wait to see you." Damn! That's so awesome of Robby! Ryan asks, "Why the big smile, Dylan?" I say, "Robby's going to a party tonight with Danny Monday." He's like astonished, "And that makes you happy?" I say, "Well, if our leader is messin' around, why not us twins?" He laughs, "You are a hottie! Still, what Rob's doing is his business and what we're doing is ours. I wanna stick to our plan to ease back into our thing." He grins, "And we both know you could easily seduce me if you wanted to. I'm almost seduced now, but I'm hoping you won't do that. I want our relationship to last a long long time." I give him my sexiest look, and he asks, "Is it the cramp again? You looked like you felt a pain just now." I go, "Fuck that! That was my sexiest expression. Most gay guys see it and immediately drop their drawers." He laughs, "It needs some work, Dylan. Come on, goofy, let's stop at your apartment so you can change, and then get we'll something to eat." As we're going down the steps I'm looking at Ryan and realizing, while I do have the hot's for him and I mean I've got them big time, I'm not springing a boner and having a heart attack about it. I'm feeling good, relatively calm, and I kinda liking the idea of us getting back together slowly. The important part of that is we're getting back together at long last. Fuckwad Marty's a complication but it's easy to see Ryan still has lots of feeling for me too. I squeeze the back of his neck and he looks over grinning at me, mumbling, "I'm glad you finally came to your senses and begged your way back into my personal life." I go, "I didn't beg exactly, well maybe a little bit of begging was involved, but you're so sexy in my eyes and you turn me on so much, what else could I do but beg. I obsess over you." He goes, "Seriously, Dylan, all kidding aside, don't forget you promised I'd have a chance to win you from Rob." I go, "I'm not something that gets won, not like some kind of prize, ya know." He goes, "Yeah, you are, you're the booby prize." I bump against him, "Um, how long would you guess this courting period will last. Before we get to have sex, I mean." He laughs, "Shit, it's only been a couple of hours so far." As he unlocking the Mini, I go, "Yeah, I know, but how long?" He says, "Oh man, I got Marty to think of too, Dylan. He's been so fucking cool with me I don't want to hurt him." We get in and he starts the car, "Ryan, you're not telling him about us so he won't have his fuckwad feelings hurt." He shakes his head, "And to think my life was so uncomplicated a few short hours ago." As he drives cautiously onto route 114, I say, "It's been more like four hours ago not a couple hours, and it's not my fault you're so sexy. Didn't we have a good time this afternoon?" He glances over, "Yeah, the best afternoon I've had in like two months." I say, "Ahh, that's sweet of you to say," and he's like, "What can I say, I've never lost my hot's for you either. I'm just scared it'll be temporary again and I don't know if my heart can take another break-up with you." I mumble, "Now who's being dramatic?" Ryan moves his hand over to me and I hold it between both of mine, muttering, "It won't be a long breaking-in period though, right?" Holding his hand gets my dick stiffening up, but why should that surprise me, I'm horny as hell. "Do you think it'll be tonight, Ryan?" He laughs again, pulling his hand away to grab the steering wheel because driving one-handed is a daredevil move for Ryan. He says, "No, not tonight. I wanna think about us and make sure neither of us is making a mistake." He means, make sure he's not making a mistake. There's still good parking spots in our parking lot because most students haven't returned from Thanksgiving break yet. Tomorrow is when most will show up. In the apartment Chubby's managed to make it all the way to the couch from the bedroom. He's watching a college football game. His tee-shirt says on the front, 'LOADED DIAPER' "Feeling better, bro? What colleges are playing?" "Hi Dylan, yo Ryan. No, I'm still fucked-up, dude, and I don't know who's playing. I just worked up the energy to turn the TV on." I'm like, "You poor thing," and he mumbles, "Oh man, I'm done with hard liquor forever." I mutter, "I've heard that before," and Chubby asks, "Would you make me that dry Lipton chicken soup, Dylan? I get dizzy when I stand up. Wild horses couldn't drag me out tonight. Oh gawd this hangover sucks the big one." There's no known cure for hangovers. Liquids and time are the only cure. It's surprising so many humans still get drunk, ain't it? I go, "Sure, Chub, I'll make the soup if we have any left in the pantry." Then grinning, I ask, "Or would you rather go to Burton's with Ryan and me for a big fat steak?" "Oh God, no! Solid food would have me barfing." Ryan sits down and picks up the latest issue of Rolling Stone magazine. I find we do have the Lipton soup and I'm measuring four cups of water into a pot, thinking to myself, 'I've been getting severely short haircuts, on and off, for so long due to Willie, then Ray, and now Sonny that Chubby doesn't even comment on my latest haircut from Ryan. No one else will either'. I mumble to Chubby, "This is a good choice, bro. It's mostly liquid which you need for rehydration after drinking all that booze. Did you know our bodies are about 65 percent water?" He looks at me, "Don't torture me with factoids, Dylan, please. I need all my brain power to remember to breath every now and then." I'm like, "Me torture you with factoids? You're the one always spouting them off." He groans as the water starts boiling and I add the package of soup mix. To tease Chubby, I ask, "How about a cigarette while this cooks, bro?" He goes, "Oh fuck, you prick... heh heh. Even the thought of a cigarette almost had me hurling." I'm chuckling, "Oh yeah, sorry about that." I make an ice pack and wrap a soft cloth around it. Sitting next to Chubby, I lean over and kiss his cheek. "Here, put this on your forehead." He asks, "Why, what will that do?" I shrug, "Hell if I know, but you always see people get an ice pack when they're not feeling well." Ryan says, "I never saw anybody put an ice pack on their head for a hangover." I mutter, "Well, you have now." Next a couple of Tylenol and a glass of OJ for Chubby. He says, "Yeah, good idea 'cause it's been three or four hours since I last took Tylenol." I get that for him. Lets see, the soup only needs to boil for five minutes, so while it's doing that I change clothes in my bedroom. Back in the small kitchen I'm pouring soup into a mug, then set it on the table in front of Chubby as Ryan continues a conversation he's having with Chubby, "Yeah you're right Chub, the Bible says an eye for an eye, but Gandhi says if it's an eye for an eye the whole world goes blind." Chubby frowns, muttering, "Yeah, I never thought of that." He slurps some soup, then goes, "Bullshit! There'd be one guy left in the world with one eye at the end. Who's going to put that eye out. All the fucker would need to do is hide behind a shrub or something. Everyone else is blind so they couldn't find him. Gandhi's wrong, but no one had the balls to tell him." I don't want any part of that discussion, so to be a brat, I ask, "You wanna join us later at Tracy's for a shot and a beer?" He blurts our a laugh spraying some soup on his tee-shirt, then sputters, "Wild horses could drag me off this couch. I told ya that!" Ryan's still pondering the Gandhi quote, "Gandhi's right in the end though, Chub. How's the last guy with one eye going to procreate? So humanity is over." Chubby says, "For chrissakes, he uses his one eye to choose a good looking chick and screws her. The human race starts all over again." Oh brother! Ya gotta love college kids' idea of intellectual discourse. Ryan's grinning because we're basically breaking Chubby's balls which is torture for him with his hangover. There's little mercy given by guys our ball-breaking age. Chubby's slurping the last of his soup, then he holds the mug out to me, asking, "Please sir, may I have some more?" I take the mug, mumbling, "Sure, Oliver," and pour another mug of chicken soup. It has those tiny noodle in the broth that are almost liquid themselves so they slide down your throat easily. Good salty soup for a sore throat too. Ryan goes, "Don't you hate trying to get somebody at Verizon on the phone? It's always, 'Please hold on, we're experiencing heavy call volume at this time, but your call is very important to us'." Chubby says, "Oh yeah? If the calls so fucking important to them, answer the fucking phone. That pisses me off too!" Chubby gets pissed off thinking about that. Ryan and I grin at each other as Chubby says, "Don't bring up shit like that when I'm suffering. It gets me so pissed off my headache is pounding again." I get a back-up a mug of soup for him, pat his shoulder, "Feel better, bro, I'll see you later. We're off." He nods his head, muttering. "Thanks, Dylan, love ya, bro." Ryan waves goodbye at Chubby and we head for the parking lot with me asking, "Can I drive the Mini, Ryan?" He doesn't want to let me I can tell, but he reluctantly says, "Okay, but be careful. I've never had a fender bender in this car and I'd like to be able to say that after tonight too." I drive us to the restaurant suffering more backseat driving in this short period of time as I'd imagine is possible to experience. At the restaurant I say, "Be my guest driving us to Tracy's after dinner and I'll offer my opinions of your driving then. I mean since you've so kindly offered your opinion of my driving." We're walking to the front door, "Dylan, that car's my baby and you simply drive it too fast." As we're going inside, I mumble, "Me and every other car on the road were driving too fast I guess. We were moving at the same speed as everyone else." As usual Burtons is jumping. It's crowded, which goes to show you people have too much spendable income because this is the most expensive suburban restaurant I know off. Burtons basically charges Boston restaurant prices in hicksville. While waiting to get seated Ryan sees his friend from last year, Felix Jonnas, a straight guy who's house we shot pool at last year. That was the night Robby fucked Ryan while Felix was giving me a lesson in shooting pool. Not a good night for our threesome. Ryan and Felix go through the hug and handshake routine, then Felix bumps fists with me as Ryan says, "You remember Dylan, right Felix?" He goes, "Oh yeah, I failed in my attempt to teach you to shoot pool, Dylan. Nice to see you again." Then he introduces his girlfriend, Linda something. I'm bad with names. She's kinda cute in a perky kind of way. As Ryan and Felix reminisce Linda flirts with me getting me to blush. She says, "That's a sexy haircut, Dylan. I tried to get Felix to get some extreme haircut but he's too conservative. You, on the other hand, look like a cute wild-child bad-ass. I'll bet you're a little rough with your girlfriends, huh?" I go, "Um, no, not really, I'm gay," and she punches my arm playfully, "No you're not, you lie." Then she leans against me rubbing my head, "Oooh, your hair's soft. Beautiful hair." Then to Felix, "We gotta fix my roommate, Mickie, up with Dylan. She just broke up with that animal, Bobby." Felix says, "What? Oh, no, Linda. Dylan's gay and so is my bud here, Ryan." She hits his arm like she did to me, and says, "You boys! One lies and the other swears to it." Fortunately we hear, "Table for Jonnas." Everyone bumps fists and they leave saying they'll see us at Tracy's later. Ryan goes, "I really like Felix. He's the first straight guy I ever admitted being gay to, and Felix just shrugged like, 'so?'. Really a good guy." I try steering the conversation to our pending sex, but Ryan says, "People will overhear us, Dylan. Jeez!" Ten minutes later we get a table near a booth where a family is sitting with two preteens who are loud. The parents talk among themselves ignoring the kids as the girl and boy argue about something. I exchange glances with Ryan and he mumbles, "Luck of the draw. Whaddaya gonna do?" We have a waitress tonight, not a waiter, and when I try ordering a dry Absolute martini, she just gives me attitude, asking, "Ya want a Shirley Temple, a soft drink, or water?" Huh, a no nonsense waitress without personality. She's got huge hips and big hair too. The cow! Waitresses have a prejudice against college students and I think we get a bum rap just because some, the minority, don't tip well. Ryan and I get Cokes and order an iceberg lettuce salad with blue cheese dressing and bacon bits that we plan on sharing, plus the house steak medium rare with baked potato, butter and sour cream for each of us. It'll come with a vegetable that we'll probably ignore. For conversation I explain to Ryan why I've got the hot's for him pointing out the reasons he's cute, hot, and sexy. After awhile he says, "You're giving me a big head, Dylan. But, dude, don't stop on my account. You do realize though that you're the only guy on the planet who thinks I'm as cute and sexy as you claim, right?" I finish my half of the salad, that we eat from the same plate it came in. We could have cut it up and eaten it from our bread dishes, but it's sexier sharing the same dish. "I find it hard to believe, Ryan, that I'm the only person who sees you're amazing qualities. And, to be honest with you, I've got a little bit of a hero worship thing going for you too." He laughs, "You're also the only guy in the world who would admit something like that, even if it was true. Do you really think I'm your hero?" I say, "A little bit, yeah. Can't we do it tonight?" He says, "Oh, so that's what's behind all these outlandish compliments, huh?" Our main course arrives via our personality challenged waitress. Fortunately the steaks are cooked perfectly because I'd hate to have to tangle with that bitch if they weren't. Slicing off a bite of steak, I say, "No, my compliments for you are totally from my love-sick heart, Ryan. I mean every word I say." He grins, "You're too much, but I love hearing it. Do you use this same line with Rob too?" I go, "Oh, well yeah, pretty much, but I mean it for him too." He just smiles shaking his head, but I can see he's having a good time. We eat in silence for a couple of minutes, then I ask, "How about tonight, Ryan. After Tracy's, okay?" He goes, "Nope, sorry hound dog, we're gonna build up anticipation so when we do it we appreciate it more. Both of us, instead of just taking it for granted." Huh, he's right about the anticipation part. Okay, no more nagging and when he finally wants to do it I'm gonna say, "Oh, I'm not feeling it right now, sorry'. I probably won't say that, now that I think about it. Guess I'm a little rusty with my side-sex as it doesn't seem to be falling in my lap anymore. We finish dinner talking about our threesome, both of us praising Robby while I wonder why Ryan didn't reciprocate my compliments with a few for me. Have I lost 'it', whatever 'it' is that I used to have? Frankly I don't care for the way I'm trending side-sex-wise lately. After dinner we split the check down the middle, leaving a paltry ten percent tip. We didn't do anything to change her mind about college kids being lousy tippers because her service sucked. It's a what-came-first thing: the chicken or the egg. Bad tipping or bad waitressing, same conundrum. Ryan drives us to Tracy's, but I drop my plan to do backseat driving because he's such a lousy driver the things I could criticize him for would be too truthful and obvious and it might hurt his feeling. At Tracy's there's a guy at the top of the steps selling tokens. Don't know why Tracy's girlfriend isn't doing it. I vaguely know the guy, but can't think of his name. When he sees me, he's like, "Hey, um, dude, good to see you again," so he apparently doesn't remember my name either. Then he goes, "Dylan, right?" I go, "Yeah," and he says, "I'm Dean, Dean Foster. We met right here last year playing beer bong." I go, "Oh yeah, that's right," not remembering it even a little bit. He says, "You're brother came in a little while ago," and he nods 'hi' to Ryan, then asks for his college ID. So I guess this guy did remember my name, but I'm frowning, "My brother? Are you sure?" He hands Ryan's ID back to him, and says to me, "Yeah, it's Jeff, right?" This guy is good with names! I nod my head that "Jeff' is my brother's name and give him a ten dollar bill getting ten tokens in return. Chubby's here? Ryan gets ten dollars worth of chips too and we go to the table serving as the bar and buy a beer each. Tonight it's Corona beer, without the lime wedge. I say, "Lets see who's here, Ryan," and I light a cigarette 'cause it's kinda a cool thing to do. Saturday nights are the busiest of the week at Tracy's. We drift around saying hi to Ears Henderson and Scott Tinsdales, who are chatting up two girls. That's a lost cause right there I'm afraid. Then there's Harry Black, who's not drunk yet, with his roommate Travis Hunter and two guys I don't know. We talk with them a few minutes laughing at how outrageous Harry is, while Travis shrugs and rolls his eyes, like whaddaya gonna do? Most of the guys and girls here I don't know and have never seen before as far as I know. They're all Merrimack students though. Unless the guy at the top of the steps knows you, you gotta show your Merrimack ID to get in. No local guys and girls allowed, which Tracy claims keeps the drunken brawls down to a minimum. Then there's Rolly North and Connor's friend from last year, Homer somebody. Both of those guys have dates. There's music playing so some couples are dancing and then there's Chubby with John Beverly talking with three average looking girls. I tap Chubby on the shoulder, asking, "Who came up with wild horses, bro?" Chubby laughs, saying, "Wild horses couldn't get me out drinking tonight, but Beverly could." I bump fist with John Beverly, saying, "I don't know how you did it, John?" He says, "Whaddaya talking about, Dylan? Jeff called me." Chubby chuckles, then mumbles, "The soup and Tylenol did the trick, bro, and it's Saturday night, so ya know." Ryan and I finish our beers talking with these guys. The three girls are okay and add some funny lines about dating guys from a fraternity of nerds, as they tell it. When Ryan and I go for another beer we run into Ryan's friend, Felix, and the girl who was with him at Burtons, Linda something. They're buying beers at the bar. Before I can say 'hi' to them, Tracy takes hold of my arm, asking, "Can you help me with something, Dylan?" I go, "Sure, Tracy, how ya doing? Where's your girlfriend." He says, "I'll tell you inside. You can grab a beer in there too, come on." I leave Ryan talking with Felix, after telling him, "I'll catch up with you after I see what Tracy wants." Tracy and I make our way through the crowded deck with a number of guys and girls giving Tracy a shout out, most of whom he just gives a smile, and a, "Hey, how ya doing?"along with a pat on the shoulder as we pass by. Then inside, I ask, "Whassup Trace?" He says, "Have a shot with me and then I want you to do me a favor." I go, "I'm happy to do you the favor, but I hate shots." He's already pouring them, and then he looks up, saying, "This is Dalmore single malt scotch, aged 27 years. It cost a hundred bucks a bottle so it's smooth. I got it as a Christmas gift last year and I'm just getting around to enjoying it. Very smooth like I said, not like the rot gut you clowns buy." He nods at a cooler, "Grab yourself a pony bottle of Rolling Rock for a chaser if you need one." I need one, so I grab a bottle and open it taking a swallow. Tracy hands me a shot glass of scotch, and says, "To college buddies," and he flashes the shot down his throat. I do the same and it's not enjoyable, but no where near the worst shot I've ever had. Mild for a whiskey. I go, "Whaddaya need, Trace?" He says, "Can we be real confidential here, Dylan?" I go, "Yeah, of course." He burps, then says, "I need to relieve some built up frustration and tension. My girlfriend and I broke up this week after being together two years straight, and I'm not handling it very well. She's fallen for some dipshit waiter at Bertuccis restaurant, a fuckin' waiter four years older than Sandra. I don't even know him. Never mind the details, but I'm gonna work the other side of the street for awhile, at least until I get over Sandra. Another girl just ain't gonna cut it for me at the moment, not in my present frame of mind." I'm like, "What?" He snorts at that as he pours us another shot, saying, "Yeah, weird, huh? I was back and forth between guys and girls all through high school before settling on Sandra. I'd go in the back door with her for fun occasionally, ya know, for memory sake when I was doing guys. Now I need some honest to God male tail to help get me off this 'poor me' mood I'm in. You're gay and also the best looking dude at Merrimack so I'm asking you. That's the favor, whaddaya say?" Holy shit, don't hold back, say what's on your mind, Tracy! I down the second shot and chug some beer with my eyes watering. Tracy's an inch or so taller than me with a similar build. He's got long light-brown curly hair pulled back in a shortish ponytail. I know his hair's curly because where he has it cut shorter around his ears and at the neck line, the fine hairs there are very curly, cool, and soft looking. He has a curly, very short beard, big brown eyes and very white teeth. He's staring at me and grinning a cute grin, knowing he just shocked the shit out of me. I've always though he was sexy, but I assumed he was a committed straight guy, and you know what happens when you assume something. I'm like, "Whoa, that came out of nowhere, dude. Holy shit." I smell the back of my wrist trying to think, as Tracy lights a cigarette, still grinning and seemingly pleased with himself for getting me a little discombobulated. He finally says, "I'll use a condom obviously and we'll do it anyway you want, okay? We don't want to take too long with this 'cause it'll get suspicious minds working overtime out there. And this is between you and me, one way or the other, right?" I nod my head, "Yeah, a' course, Trace," as I stare at his face. He's always been a hotshot, sexy looking dude alright, so I'm cool with it, saying, "Where do you wanna do it?" He says, "Thanks, Dylan. Um, not my bedroom, that's were her and me used to do it every night, so I guess we'll use the spare bedroom. Come on," and I follow him deeper into the apartment to a small room in the front that looks more like a storage room than a spare bedroom. Cases of beer and wine, plus a case of VO. There's other assorted boxes filled with unknown whatever. He says, "Just pull down your pants and we'll do it real informal like." He's sure confident enough, but not in a dominant manner. More like he's just used to getting his way. In a kind of stupor I pull my pants down to my knees. It's happening so fast it's hard to grasp. Yeah it is, but this is what I'm talking about; when side-sex opportunities pop up totally unexpectedly, take advantage of them. Ya know, assuming I'm horny and the guy's sufficiently hot. Why not? He glances at me, saying, "I've always wanted to do that," nodding at my crotch, meaning shave his pubic hair I guess. He takes his shirt off and disappoints me a little because his chest is hairless. Very average definition and like I said, on the slim side. He goes, "Take your shirt off too I guess, I wanna feel your body." I do that glancing at his equipment now that his pants are down. Average everything down there with a little bend in his penis that's maybe six inches long. He cups behind my neck and pulls my head to his, sticking his tongue in my mouth and we make-out for maybe two minutes. He's got a guy's scent that's nice, and he's a good make-out, but not in Ryan's league in that regard. Tracy's rubbing a hand up the back of my head, then he breaks off the kiss, murmuring, "Goddamn, you smell good, Dylan, and I like the feel of a guy's haircut under my fingers again too. Maybe I've been missing this more than I thought," and he really sucks on my mouth then, moving his head with our noses rubbing together. I may have underestimated his make-out skills a little. My dick's a good judge of make-out talent and it's firming up. Another minute of making out with my hand in his ponytail reminding me of Ryan's at the beginning of the semester. My other hand is squeezing his right butt cheek. Tracy's breathing deeply getting me turned-on even more. He sucks his lips off mine making a wet sucking sound, and then starts kissing my neck right under my jaw, then sucking there and biting a little bit. His face comes up, "Do you mind, Dylan?" I'm not sure what he means, but I shake my head 'no' I don't mind, and her goes back to nipping and sucking my neck. Now I know what he means... 'do I mind if he gives me a hickey?' I haven't had one in a while and it's going to be hard to explain if Ryan's sees it. If Robby sees it, I already told him Ryan and me make-out this afternoon so he'll assume it's Ryan's hickey. He wouldn't ask anyway. It gets real sexy laying against Tracy, his curly hair near his ear tickling my neck as he works on the hickey. I'm soon quietly moaning and more or less hugging him with my cock fully boned-up pressed between us. His boner's next to mine, and then it's poking me as he moves his head sucking and biting my neck. He's got the hickey to the stinging stage as I slip into a nice sexy dreamy trance. "Ooooh, oooh," from me as I surrender to Tracy with the hickey stinging like mad, like he's sucked and bitten a raw spot on my neck. When he's done with that he reaches down in his pants pocket, bunched around his knees, takes out a condom and with both his arms in back of me, my chest to chest against him, the sides of our faces touching, he opens the condom package, drops the wrapping and without saying anything turns me around facing away from him, and he's rough about it too. I stand here hoping he smacks my ass a little, but he doesn't. He rolls the condom on his boner and gets an arm around the front of my neck holding me against him awhile pushing the head of his condom encased cock against my asshole. His arm around my neck pulls my head back and my chin up, his other arm around my stomach. He humps his cock past my sphincter and lets out a long exhale. His face is at the back of my head until he moves it and the back of my head bumps against his shoulder. As he slowly pushes his hard cock up my ass, helped by the lubricant, he pulls my chin up higher with the arm around the front of my neck pulling me up on my toes, our backs arching. My hands are back gripping his buttocks, helping me stand on my toes. He doesn't talk or act dominant, but he fuck's dominantly and it's got me very aroused. I'm squirming in his grasp which only makes him pull my head back and up further, almost choking off my air. I feel my face get red, but I don't care because I haven't been fucked this roughly in a long time and it's a huge turn-on. His boner seems to grow inside my ass and it's setting off lots of sensations from the millions of nerve endings of which there's a lot in my anus and my super sensitive sexy prostate too. In goes his cock until I feel his pubic hairs tickling my buttocks, but a final thrusts of his hips flattens him against my ass. His mouth's next to my ear and I hear a quiet breathy moan from him. He pushes his hips forward, but his cock's already completely up my rectum feeling wonderful. It was tight and hurt some going in, but not much and not at all now. He stays like this for half a minute maybe, then takes his arm from around my neck and roughly pushes my head forward, so I lean over grabbing my knees. He gets a tight hold on my hips, squeezes them, and begins as fast and hard a fuck as I've ever gotten. My brain is immediately overcome with sexual sensations, my cock sticking straight out from me so tight it barely moves as he humps his boner up my ass hard and fast jostling me roughly. I'm moaning with sexual pleasure, constantly feeling I'm being fucked really really good by someone who knows what he wants and knows how to get it. Thrilling sexual vibrations all over me, sensations in my rectum too many to register in my brain, with my shoulders constantly shuddering. Back and forth he drives his hard cock up my ass and from Tracy I hear only noisy breathing to go with the constant pounding 'slapping' sound against me thrusting his cock inside my ass. I don't know how long I last, but it's not very long until my climax is on me hot and heavy. My back arches, I put both my hands over my mouth and squeal, "Eeeeee," as I'm shaking as cum's pumping out of my nuts and flying up my boner and out in four fast streams, one after the other. If Tracy didn't have such a tight hold on my hips I would have fallen forward as I thrust my hips that way. My head hangs down along with my arms now as my stiff body, every muscle tensing while I had my climax, is now limp with every muscle relaxed. Tracy's jostling my body all the more now since I've gone limp, but his relentless thrusting continues just the same. The incredible surge of sexual sensations inside me of orgasm abate and those sizzling sensations of pure sexual pleasure twirl around my groin for a few seconds and then fade away with one last shudder from me. Now I'm moaning quietly trying to register the awesome feeling in my rectum; the hot buzzing of my prostate and so many dazzling sensations coming from my anus I want to reach back there and squeeze it. Tracy's grunting now and I feel his cock swell and pulsate as he leans against my ass, his hard cock deep up my ass. He breathing noisily as he get's an arm around my chest, his other arm around the front of my neck again, then roughly pulls me up straight, my back against his chest. More heavy breathing, loud and ragged now as he pulls my head back on his shoulder, the side of his face against the side of my forehead. His arm under my chin lifting my head up further so my neck is stretched to the limit. Holding me complete helpless like this for a few seconds and then his hips move back and with a gasp from Tracy he humps hard against my buttocks lifting me up on my toes, our backs arching more as he humps against my butt cheeks making a whining desperate sound, and then, "Aaaah! ooh ooh ooh," from him as he's obviously filling the condom with creamy cum, and probably a lot of it from the way his body's shaking for five or six seconds. Then, done his climax, he gently sets me down, my feet flat on the floor again. After a lazy three or four thrusts up my ass he pulls his cock out, mumbling, "Wow. Yeah, that was good." He pats my chest a few times, then pulls my head back again with the arm under my chin and kisses my cheek, "That was very helpful, Dylan. I owe you, dude. Man, that felt fuckin' good!" He lets go of me completely and begins rubbing my ass with a towel or rag that was on top of a box next to us. Taking another deep breath, he goes, "I'm wiping some of the lube from the condom off your ass. Nice ass," then, "SLAP!" as he gives my ass a hard smack, "Thank's, Dylan. Just what I needed. Damn, that was nice," and he pulls my pants up. As I'm buttoning then, still feeling high from that rough fuck, he takes off the condom and pulls up his pants. Carrying the condom, he says, "Have another drink with me, Dylan," and his arm goes around my neck for a little hug. He drops the cum loaded condom in the trash on his way by the trash bin and I follow him back to the kitchen where he pours us another shot of single malt scotch. I grab my half full pony bottle of beer and pick up my shot glass. Tracy taps his shot glass to mine, saying, "Here's to helping a friend out," and we flash down the shot. Gad, that's not pleasant, which is the nicest thing I can say about a shot of liquor. I'm guzzling Rolling Rock beer while Tracy's looking at me and wiping across his lips with the back of his hand. It's been only ten minutes since I walked into his apartment and I've had three shots of liquor, a pony bottle of beer, and a very hot rough fuck that was so sexy my ass is still pulsating nicely. Everything about the way Tracy fucked me, without asking a single question of me, like maybe do I make-out with guys, for example. He just did his thing the way he wanted and that approach is right in my wheelhouse. I really liked it, but if we ever did it again it probably wouldn't give me the thrill of this one because I'd know what to expect. On the other hand, Tracy is proving to be very unpredictable, so who knows what he might feel like doing next time. Initially he said he'd do it anyway I wanted, but them he did it any way he wanted. Perfect! He adjust his junk, asking, "What do you call a black man flying a plane?" What? I go, "A black dude flying a plane? I don't know." He says, "You call him a pilot, ya racist bastard, what else would you call him?" He's grinning as I laugh shaking my head. "You're hard to keep up with, Trace." He's grinning pouring himself another shot. He nods at my shot glass and I shake my head 'no' as I cover my shot glass with my hand. Tracy flashes his shot down, then puts the top on the bottle, saying, "Dickers is a lucky, dude, Dylan. I might find myself thinking about tonight and hoping you'd honor me with seconds sometime. Any chance you'd be agreeable?" I shrug, "Probably, Tracy, I kinda enjoyed the way you fuck, dude." He nods his head, "Here, I want to give you one of these gold tokens. It buys drinks for then rest of the semester." He holds it out and I shake my head, "No thanks, Trace, that's dangerously close to getting paid for sex and I never sell it. Sex is for pleasure, not money." He goes, "You're a good guy, Dylan. I'll just say thanks then, you did me a solid and I appreciate it. Goddamn that girl and her dufus waiter boyfriend, but such is life." He pats my shoulder and we walk out together. Damn that was hot sex! It never lasts long enough though. to be continued... Donny Mumford _thinat20@yahoo.com_ (mailto:thinat20@yahoo.com) ======================================================== I continue to provide this little advertisement in hope that some of you readers will purchase the books that I have had published. They are available on Amazon. Actually one book and one short story. The short story is titled "Concealed Agony - Gay Romance" (and I didn't pick that title.) Read the short story first. And the book is named "Oliver's Wildwood Vacation" They are both about 'Oliver'. You can easily find them by searching for 'Donny Mumford' at the Amazon web site. And I would appreciate it if you would provide a comment at the site for the stories as well. Thanks. Donny Mumford ============================================ Also please consider a tax deductible donation to nonprofit Nifty to help with the expenses of maintaining this free story site. Thank you.