Date: Fri, 2 May 2014 22:23:16 -0700 (PDT) From: Rob Roth Subject: Dylan's Summer Vacation Two, Chapter 61 DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO Chapter 61 by Donny Mumford After cleaning the spunk that's drooled out of my rectum, Junior and I clean-up the cum on the floor and then wash ourselves. Junior's seemingly very proud of himself and apparently ecstatic about losing his cherry and getting his first blow job. He also got his first taste of cock which I was happy to provide for him. With our bathing suits and t-shirts back on we're on our way back to the beach. Junior says, "This is the best day of my life, Dylan, and that's not hyperbole. Gay sex at last, plus I got to play with your pee, awesome urine by the way, and I got a cool haircut too, one I wouldn't have the balls to get on my own, plus you gave me a fucking bath. Damn, it's been a grand-slam-day alright." I run my fingers through what's left of his light brown hair, saying, "Well, Junior, I enjoyed myself too, you're a very cool dude. I had fun spending some time with you." He goes, "Thanks, plus you still owe me five bucks and a kiss, so I got that going for me as well." I'm laughing as I squeeze the back of his neck just because I feel like it, and because he's a cute kid. He's cute in both looks and personality. I ask, "Will you follow-up your first sex by feeling out any of your friends you think might be gay?" He goes, "Nah, I can't tell who's gay and who's not. If I had to guess, I say none of the guys I know are gay." I mumble, "You might be surprised," and now we're on the sand trudging toward our moms and the moms' twin boyfriends. Junior's mom is chatty away with, I believe it's Rick, who's my mom's boyfriend... or is it Ron. Well, they're fraternal twins and they do look alike, although they're not identical by a long shot. I'm noticing that the twins have the same haircut, preppy with a part on the side. Hmmm, hope they don't dress alike too, that would be creepy for thirty year old men. Junior's mom looks up and sees us on the beach and gives us a big smile. When we're close, she says, "I love your haircut, Junior. Come on over, let me look at you." Junior's grinning his cute grin with dimples in each cheek, but he's also blushing a little because everyone is staring at him now. He may be the most uninhibited guy I've ever met, but he's still a teenager and if I can recall way back to my teen years, we do not like adults staring at us. Ann, who's Junior's mom, says, "Dylan you're a master barber, what a wonderful haircut for a boy during the summer." Junior mutters, "It's just a haircut like lots of guys are rocking these days." Ron, or is it, Rick, nods at his brother, saying, "We had a haircut like that all through high school, and not just for the summer either." My mom goes, "I can see you and Ron as high school students, you don't look much older then high school students now, do they Tris?" I'm thinking, 'That's a stretch!' but I don't say it. Tris says to my mom, "I couldn't agree with you more, Dee," and then she tells me, "Jeffrey was here a little while ago with a girl. He wanted his beach towel and asked where you were." I go, "Was the girl with him, um, stacked?" and Ron, or Rick, says, "Oh, you noticed that, huh, Dylan?" and the guys chuckle with Tris saying, "Oh you guys." Apparently the brothers don't know I'm gay. I kinda thought the moms would have shared that news with them by now. I know the moms too well to think they're embarrassed about me being gay so it must be they feel it's my place to tell the guys, when and if I want to. I'm not going to bring it up now though, not with Junior and his mom here. Junior's mom might not be as openminded as my mom and it might make Junior feel uncomfortable too. Plus, I don't know Ron and Rick, so why would I blurt out that I'm gay? Junior and I decide a swim is in order, so we leave the adults and their discussion about what an excellent barber I am, and head for the ocean. It's flattering they think I'm an awesome barber, but I'm wondering why they're making such a big deal out of it. For example, none of the posse boys made a big deal out of me being a barber, maybe because we're peers. It was more like a shrug, then, 'Oh you know how to cut hair? Good, give me a free haircut'. Junior says, "That was a bit awkward?" Not sure what awkward situation he's referring to, I ask, "Your haircut?" He goes, "Yeah, everyone was gawking at me and mom was going overboard, like a haircut is some big deal. Don't get me wrong, it's awesome, Dylan, and so are you, but they're going on about it like we just cracked the code for the Rosetta Stone or something." I go, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Um, changing the topic, I assume someday you'll probably want to mention to your mom your gay, so how do you think she'll take it?" He chuckles, "Well, since I just found out for sure myself a little while ago, I haven't given it much thought. My dad might have a bigger problem with it than mom, but I just don't know. Anyway, if I tell 'em it won't be for years." We're in the water up to our waists just standing here working up the courage to dive in. I say, "Yeah, I just told my mom about me being gay this summer." He asks, "How'd she take it?" I go, "It's funny, but I got the impression she wasn't surprised, which surprised me." We talk about being gay for awhile and then dive under water and swim, then do some body surfing trying not to run into anyone. There's no one I see that I'd want to run into. Later we dry off by walking ten blocks along the beach with Junior and I evaluating the cuteness of certain guys we see along the way. We have differences of opinions as it's seems Junior kinda likes older looking, more macho guys, so I ask, "How'd you get a crush on me, Junior? I mean, I look as young for my age as you look for yours." He says, "Oh get real, Dylan, you're universally cute, and sexy too. Almost no one would disagree with that." I chuckle, muttering, "You nailed that one, dude." He says, "Hey, you're suppose to return the compliment," and I get him in a headlock with my lips against his ear, "I already told ya ten times you're cute as a button." His arm's around my waist as he asks, "Button? How the fuck can a button be cute?" I go, "Okay, you're cuter than a button," and he laughs, mumbling, "That's better." We turn around to walk back the way we came as I'm telling Junior about my family taking me out for a birthday dinner tonight, and then ask him if he wants to hook-up with Chubby and me later tonight. He says, "Of course I'd like to, but I can't tonight. Mom and me our driving to Sea Isle City to have my birthday dinner with my aunt and uncle. They rented a place in Sea Isle for two weeks." I ask, "Any cousins?" and he goes, "Yeah, but none of them have dicks. Two girls." I mutter, "That's a bummer." As we approach the group I see that Chubby's returned, and without Jen this time, thank God. My waterproof sports watch, and thank you again, Willie, reads five minutes after five so the moms will be heading up to the house soon. Chubby meets us walking towards him, saying, "Nice job of avoiding me this afternoon, guys." I go, "Of all the fucking nerve, you abandoned us for that female person with the engorged breasts." Chubby's grinning and rubbing Junior's head, saying, "Looks cool, Junior," then to me, "I've promised Jen to walk the boards with her after dinner. Tomorrow and Friday it's you and me bro, so don't get pissed at me." I go, "Oh, that's just great, you're walking the boards with her, and Junior's gonna be in Sea Isle tonight, so I'll be alone." Chubby mutters, "Probably not for long," and now we're with the adults who are discussing what's happening tonight. Junior's mom says, "Oh, there you are, Junior. It's time we get ready for your birthday party." Junior rolls his eyes and stretches out the word, "Mooooom! I'm too old for a birthday party, it's dinner were having, not a party." She smiles, "Yes, Junior, it's dinner. Aunt Louise and Uncle Art will be surprised to see this haircut Dylan did for you. You look so handsome." Junior looks embarrassed, so when his mom's saying goodbye to the others, I say, "Junior, your moms just like mine. They don't know any better, that's why they say embarrassing things sometimes. They're nice things, but said the wrong way from a teen's perspective, that's all. Ya gotta love 'em. It's no biggie." He nods, "Yeah, you're right, I'll see ya tomorrow and thanks for everything. You rock! I'm glad God answered my prayers with you." We do a quick fist bump and one arm hug with Junior kissing my cheek, muttering, "Now you owe me two kisses and five dollars." I grin, and wave as he walks over to help his mom lug their stuff back to the house. Mom tells me the plans: She and Tris are going back to the duplex to get ready for tonight while the guys do the same at their motel. They're going to have cocktails on our deck at seven and we'll leave for dinner around eight. Chubby and I will drive to the restaurant in the Jeep, the moms will go with their boyfriends. We're eating at the restaurant I picked out, which is, 'The Bay Restaurant'. It's on the bay at Somers Point. Chubby and I decide to call it a day on the beach too, and now we're walking through the sand carrying the stuff the moms brought to the beach with them this morning. The moms walk with their boyfriends with Chubby and me behind them and it seems funny seeing the moms walking close to the guy they're going out with. Halfway to the parking lot Ron takes Tris' hand and they walk hand in hand. I glance at Chubby who shrugs like it's no big deal, and I guess he's right. Back in the duplex Chubby and I play a couple of computer games and then texts some friends. I text Sonny, and for some reason Ray too, who I thought I was done with. Why burn my bridges though. I text a shout-out to Cory Dunlevy who texts me almost every week telling me something funny that happened at Stop and Shop during his shift. I also text two other guys from Stop & Shop: I text Matthew Flowers and Shaun Sullivan who both text me randomly saying they aren't getting haircuts until I return to Merrimack. All three of the guys from Stop & Shop are cool guys and since I want to work part time at Stop & Shop again in the fall, it's good to stay in touch. My last text is to Seth who sent me basically a love letter email. I keep the text vague regarding his love letter, mentioning Connor who he's going to be meeting soon. Then, as Chubby takes his shower, I write emails to both Connor and Dodger trying to be funny, but end up kind of maudlin telling them how much I miss them. Lastly a long email to Robby, and it is a love letter pure and simple. As I'm writing it I get a boner thinking about him. Then I realize I'm going overboard so I end the email with a joke. I tell Robby that this joke might make him think of a specific person. He'll know right away I'm referring to Travis Pickles. The joke goes like this: Yossef works in a Polish pickle factory and for the longest time he's had this strong urge to put his penis in the pickle slicer. Unable to stand the torment any longer he seeks help from a psychologist, but after six months of treatment the therapist sees that it's helpless. He suggests Yossef go ahead and stick his dick in the company's pickle slicer and get it over with, or he's never going to have peace of mind. The next day Yossef comes home from work early. His wife wants to know why, and Yossef tearfully confesses his tormented desire to put his dick in the pickle slicer and today he did it, and got his ass fired because of it. Oh my God, the wife rushes over and pulls down the guy's pants only to find an intact penis. She doesn't understand and asks, 'What about the pickle slicer?' Yossef shrugs, and says, "She got fired too." I end my email with, 'All my love, Dylan'. Okay, maybe someone could accuse me of being hypocritical about professing my love to Robby because of the random sex I've been running into accidentally here in Wildwood, but it's only been once a day for the most part and I don't know how many times Robby may be doing it, and I don't care either. Robby and I have true love for each other and nothing else comes close to comparing with that. We're sowing wild oats, nothing more or less and the two of us will know when it's the right time to commit solely to one another. What others may think is of no concern to us because what we're doing is what's right for us and it's nobody's business but ours. Chubby comes in the bedroom just as I'm ending my email to Robby, and he says, "It's all yours, Dylan," meaning the bathroom of course. I say, "First I want to watch you get dressed." He laughs and drops the towel, then grabs his privates, asking, "Is this what ya wanna see?" I go, "Wait, let me get my magnifying glass," and Chubby's like, "Oh man, you had to go back to the nineteen-fifties for that one." I go, "Yeah, pretty lame, but ya know, Junior's dick is even smaller than Dodger's, and yours is bigger by far." He asks, "Good for me. What was the occasions that allowed you to view Junior's tiny dick?" I go, "Peeing was the occasion," and Chubby goes, "Ahh yes, a little peekaboo, I see." He pulls on boxer shorts and I hug him from behind, muttering, "I love you, bro," then go down the hall to the bathroom and do my stuff in there. I don't have a date tonight so I put on whatever's handy after my shower and join the group on the deck. I've brazenly got a Rolling Rock beer in my hand too. The boyfriends, moms, and Chubby are already out here and I immediately get serenaded with the lame, 'Happy Birthday to you,' song and barely survive it with a forced grin on my lips. When it's over I go, "Mercy, show me some mercy," but they don't. The moms hug and kiss me and the men shake my hand and pat my back as they all again wish me a happy twentieth. Finally things settle down and I notice five envelopes with my name on them laying on the round table. It's interesting that there's five. One is from my brother, I recognize his neat handwriting so I save that for last and open the next one. Inside I find, what else, a birthday card. I say, "Hmmm," and open it only to have a fifty dollar bill fall out. "Well, lookie here," I go, and then shove it in my pocket and step over to thank Ron. He does a high five, saying, "You're welcome, stud man." If only he knew, ha ha. Plus, high fives are sort of dating him a little, but for fifty bucks he gets a big smile from me and another thank you. Everyone is watching me and I think of Junior on the beach and sympathize with him even more. The next card is from Rick with two twenty dollar bills and a ten falling out of it and I'm liking this trend. Rick gets the same thank you I gave Ron and I get an awkward hug from Rick, probably because he's dating my mom and he's sucking in with her a little. They're good guys though and I kind of like them. They seem natural and they don't patronize Chubby or me. Of course I like them even more now with a hundred dollars in my pocket. Both moms give me a birthday card with a hundred dollar debit card inside. Debit cards are handy things to have in your wallet around campus. The moms get hugs and kisses. Then I read the brothers-themed birthday card from Chubby that's extolling a brother's love, and I need to concentrate hard not to tear-up while reading it. There's a small envelope inside that I open and find the picture of my dad that Chubby's carried in his wallet for years. He says, "You carry it for the next ten years, Dylan, I've had my turn." We hug and both of us cry which gets the moms crying, and it's a mess for couple of minutes as we have a family hug. The twins look on, muttering things like, "That's so nice." Things settle down again and Chubby gets everyone laughing with a factoid. He asks, "Which creature alive today has the longest penis?" A titter of nervous laughter, then Ron says, "You probably know the answer to that one, Rick," and that gets the adults chuckling and Tris muttering, "Oh, Jeffrey, what am I going to do with you?" Rick guesses an answer to the penis question, "How about an elephant?" Chubby goes, "Nice try Rick, but a bull elephant's penis is only three to three-and-a-half feet long." There's some gasps and quick glances among the adults, who would probably be laughing out loud if they were at a cocktail party, but here there's a teenager present so they hold off their laughter. Chubby goes, "The biggest penis prize goes to the blue whale. His penis is the longest of any organism on earth at between eight and ten feet." My mom goes, "Oh God!" and I ask, "Who measures all these penises anyway?" To keep things rolling along I tell the pickle slicer joke and everyone does laugh out loud at that one. So I survive our little front-end loading party and around eight o'clock we get in out cars and make the half hour drive to Somers Point. The Bay Restaurant is huge with both outside and inside dining. I like outside, but it's pot luck getting one of those tables. It's also rare you get seated right away and we don't. The greeter at the reception stand takes the name of our party of six, and says, "It'll be about a twenty minute wait, folks," which means forty-five minutes, so we go in the bar and luck out grabbing a table people are just vacating. The bar is crowded and noisy of course, but all these people are on vacation and determined to have a good time so there's raucous laughter and loud talking. Ron goes up a notch in my book when he orders drinks, included beers for Chubby and me, which the waitress doesn't question. She's probably too busy or maybe she doesn't want to lose a possible good tip by putting a damper on our evening. On the other hand she could be assuming the guys want two beers each. Either way it's all good. This place is fairly new which is one of the reasons I like it. It's kinda interesting watching adults on a date, and I gotta hand it to the twins for not doing the million question routine with Chubby and me like so many adults would do. You know, they don't know what to say to us so they ask questions about our personal lives, not that they'd find out much from Chubby and me anyway. I give them credit for carrying on a conversations with our moms... they're their dates, not Chubby and me. We get a table for dinner in a little over a half hour, which is faster than I expected. It's a big round table in the outside dining area where the bay smells pleasantly like a bay should. It's a pleasant night too, and it's lit up festively out here, but not brightly. We have a candle burning at the middle of the table and Christmas-like strings of lights are strung along the railing at the perimeter dining area; the little lights provide a nice ambiance. Another reason I like this place is they have cloth tablecloths and white clothe napkins. Most shore restaurants have paper place mats and paper napkins. The adults order another drink, but none for Chubby or me because one of us is driving. I don't want another beer anyway, and I was surprised to see Chubby drinking one on the deck after the hangover he had this morning. The conversation is constant and Chubby and me are included in just enough of it to be pleasant. Mostly Chubby and me talk with each other and since we're sitting next to one another that works out well. I noticed right off that there aren't any young guys to look at and maybe ogle because the wait staff consist of middle age woman, which is the one thing I don't like about this place, but few things are perfect in life. Everyone but Chubby looks at their menus and when the waitress brings the adult beverages we're ready to order. I'm first to order as guest of honor, according to Rick, who's my mom's boyfriend, so I guessed right about that. I ask if they have she-crab soup, the menu says only, 'Soup of the day'. They have it so I order that for my appetizer thinking of the lady Chubby asked for directions last night, who recommended we try she crab soup. Then I order the whole lobster plate for my main course and iced tea to drink. The waitress goes to Chubby next, and he says, "I'll have everything my big brother's having," which is typical. The adults all order seafood of one kind or another and when the waitress leaves, Rick says, "I don't usually order fish in a restaurant except at the shore the seafood's so fresh it kinda seems dumb ordering a steak." Conversation like that gets Chubby and me exchanging looks, then we excuse ourselves and wander outside for a cigarette. We talk about Ron and Rick, coming to basically the same conclusions... we feel they're good choices for our moms, although some of their past boyfriends have not been good choices. One guy was this big Italian guy with slicked back hair who always showed a lot of black chest hair with a thick gold chain around his neck, and rings on every finger. Give me a break with that! There have been some other off-the-chain characters over the years as the moms always seem to have boyfriends of one type or another. When Chubby and I return to our table we find the adults laughing their asses off and we go, "What's so funny?" and mom says, "Oh, nothing, just a risqué joke Rick told us." Rick asks, "Who's up for another round of drinks?" Chubby and me say, "Oh, okay, we'll have another," and Rick smiles, "Let me rephrase that question. Who here of drinking age, wants another round?" Well, they all do and they have time for one because service is notoriously slow at shore restaurants. Chubby and I want to try out one of the water parks on the boardwalk tomorrow and while we wait for our food we discuss which one is the best. Then I spot a busboy... oh yeah, I forgot about busboys. Maybe they'll be some nice scenery for me to check out after all. This busboy isn't especially cute though, but he has the same cool haircut I gave Junior today so he gets a point for that, plus he's got skinny, hairless arms that I think are cool for some reason. I don't always know why I pick-out something about a guy that strikes me as attractive or sexy, it's a subconscious thing. This kid is busing the table right next to us and his name tag reads, 'Jimmy', which is a cute name so he gets another point for that. Ya know, he looks Vietnamese for some reason, maybe because he's very slight. I gotta reevaluate him, the longer I look at him the more I'm thinking he qualifies as cute. Mom breaks my boy-watching trance, saying, "Here come our drinks," and Chubby says, "The appetizers are right behind them." Chubby and I get our iced teas finally, and our cups of sea crab soup. I'm anxious to try it, so I blow on a hot spoonful of it, then taste it and it's awesome. I asks the waitress, "Why's this called 'she' crab soup?" She goes, "Um, I think it's made with female crab." She thinks? What she means is, she guesses. I could guess that too. Ron says, "It's basically a bisque, Dylan, made with a regular mirepoix, crab, and some shad roe with cream. It's quite delicious, don't ya think?" I go, "Yes, it sure is," and I'd like to tell him I know what a mirepoix is, but it might sound like I'm showing off. As we're eating our appetizers the twin boyfriends want to know how our freshman year at Merrimack went, and after Chubby and I give basically no information, I find out where Ron and Rick went to college, and what they do for a living. They're both CPA's in their own business together. Hmm, that sounds like they might make a pretty good buck. A different busboy clears our appetizer plates. He's older and not interesting in any way that's resonates with me. The moms need to go to the little girl's room to powder their noses, so now this will be a test for Ron and Rick. We'll see if they're unable to find something to talk about with Chubby and me, and begin asking us personal questions to fill the silence. They cleverly fill the time talking sports and they know what they're talking about too. We all dump on the Red Sox and we're eagerly awaiting Patriots training camp. Okay, the guys surprisingly pass that test. The moms return, with Tris saying, "Sports talk guy? Do you want Dee and me to start asking dumb questions about sports?" Rick says, "Maybe not, you girls are looking beautiful tonight." To adults that non sequitur is funny, and they all chuckle while Chubby and I exchange knowing glances like, 'They're adults, what'd you expect'? Actually, outside Chubby and me were saying how good we feel about our moms having fun with these guys. The extent of the 'fun' we did not get into. Our dinners arrive and when it's served the waitress ties a big paper bib around Chubby's and my neck. We expected this because other diners eating whole lobsters have a bib around their neck too. There's a picture of a lobster on the front of the bib. We roll our eyes at each other and when the waitress leaves pull the bibs off, with Chubby muttering, "I'm not feeling the bib thing tonight." Cracking lobster shells to get at the claw meat is a bit messy so we use the bibs as hand towels. These are steamed lobsters so lots of liquid inside the shells, but we manage. The melted butter we dip the lobster pieces in pretty much covers our chins by the time we're finished eating. The moms commented that they do not ever order lobsters because it's too messy eating them, but the lobster meat is delicious. Ron says, "Lobsters are basically scavengers eating whatever's on the floor of the ocean." Chubby has a factoid or two, "The biggest lobster ever caught was forty-four pounds and was over three feet long." I say, "Huh, as long as an elephant's penis," which gets the moms groaning and the guys chuckling. Mom moves on from penis talk to ask, "Do lobsters have teeth?" Ron goes, "Yes, but they're in their stomachs, not their mouth." That's kind of a gross concept, so I go, "Folks, I'm trying to eat here, ya know." Dinner is quite enjoyable actually, and I feel as though Chubby and I got to know the moms' boyfriends a little too. When our table's cleared off by the same unattractive busboy, Rick asks, "Any room for dessert?" And across the room comes a conga line of busboys singing 'Happy Birthday, dear Dylan." Oh fuck! The first kid in the line is really cute though and he's carrying a birthday cake with sparkling candles. Oh man, I knew they'd do this to me. Everyone sitting at the outside tables is straining their necks to see who the sucker is having a birthday. These busboys aren't just going through the motions either, they're really into it as they form a semicircle around the table singing loudly, all staring at me. Chubby's laughing as he moves his chair away from mine to get out of the line of fire. The moms and their boyfriends are all smiling and chuckling as my face gets red and hot. When the busboys finish their too long version of that silly birthday song, the cake is placed in front of me and each busboy parades past to slap my hand and say, "Happy twentieth, dude." A couple of cute busboys too, one of which I make what seems like meaningful eye contact with. Made my pecker move in my pants a little. Jesus, I'd like to run into him again. He looks Italian, he's about my age, cute, slim, and my height so he's good to go, assuming he's gay. His name tag reads, 'Albert'. Kinda cool and his presence almost made this ordeal worth the embarrassment. I mumble to Chubby, "Your turn on Friday." Mom says, "Dylan, honey, it wasn't Tris' or my idea, the guys insisted on it and they're treating so, ya know," and she shrugs smiling brightly at me. I go, "Thanks guys, it's been an awesome birthday dinner, really, thanks a lot." Rick says, "Coffees are coming, and here come the plates for dessert. Cut us some cake, birthday boy." Corny, but ya know, kind of nice too. I glance up and see the busboy of my dreams from the conga line bringing dessert plates. We lock eyes again and then as he sets the plates down next to me he leans against me, gives my shoulder a squeeze, then rubs his hand up the back of my head, smiling and saying, "Enjoy, Dylan." I gulp, feeling my dick stirring, as I mutter, "Thanks, Albert." When he walks away, Tris says, "What a good looking young man," and Rick says to Ron, "Ya got competition there, bro." The adults think that's funny too. Jeez! I slice through the decorated icing spelling out, 'Happy Birthday, Dylan', figuring this had to be arranged ahead of time and maybe it's why we got this primo table outside too. I'm using the knife Albert brought with him, and somehow I get the first wedge of cake on a plate and pass it to Chubby. He goes, "Hey, whats on my piece?" I look closely and Chubby lifts the plate so icing gets on the tip of my nose. Oh my God, you'd think that's the funniest thing that's ever happened as everyone at the table laughs like mad. I mutter, "This isn't a wedding reception, bro." Mom takes over the cake slicing, still chuckling about the icing on my nose, which I try wiping off with my napkin. The coffees arrive so I add three sugars and cream to mine, then hesitantly take a sip and just as I feared it's an imitation of the undrinkable Starbuck's coffee, bitter and strong enough to remove paint. That coffee company has poisoned everyone's common sense where strength of coffee is concerned. Dunkin' Donuts has it right, thank God. The cake is really good, white cake with vanilla butter cream frosting. Chubby and me both have two slices, and then Rick mumbles, "What the hell," and takes another slice, the last one. I manage to drink the coffee with only a couple of complaints about it, and then we're done dinner. The guys each give a credit card to the waitress and split the cost of dinner with Chubby, me, and the moms heaping thanks on them with praise for an excellent dinner. While the waitress runs up the credit cards Chubby and me hit the bathroom to wash our face and hands of lobster juice, butter, and cake icing. The guys are signing for the check when we get back, so we stand next to the table and wait. Chubby lets out a long burp that gets me laughing, then Chubby starts laughing, but the adults don't see the humor apparently. Tris says, "Jeffrey!" which gives us two guys the giggles. In the foyer Chubby and I do handshakes and/or hugs saying goodbye to the the moms, Ron, and Rick along with one last thank you and then the adults adjourn to the bar for after dinner drinks. The nineteen year old, along with the twenty year old head outside to the parking lot for a cigarette and to critique the dinner. We give this experience high grades and we don't have anything negative to say about Ron or Rick either. Chubby says, "Well, they're only ten years older then you and eleven years older then me, so that might explain us getting along with them." I go, "Eleven years older then you, my ass." He grins, "For two more days anyway, old timer." We rag on each other and share a cigarette, then I take the last drag and flick that sucker at least fifteen feet in a high arc, but Chubby's walking to the car with his back to me so he missed it. Dammit! We drive to the duplex and find a half decent parking spot so we leave the Jeep there and walk to the boardwalk. On the way we congratulate ourselves on the fabulous weather we're experiencing this week, not that we had a goddamn thing to do with it. Chubby's meeting Jen, and whoever else, at ten-thirty so we have time for a ride on the double-shot that used to scare the shit out of us, but now we're fairly blasé about it. After that ride we sit near the boardwalk railing and share another cigarette. When I see Jen, Julie, and Julie's boyfriend approaching I wave at them and bump fists with Chubby, saying, "See you later, Chubby." He asks, "You wanna hang out with us, Dylan, I hate that you're alone." I go, "No thanks, Chubby. I'm good, no worries." It's good that Chubby's feeling a little guilty, but the truth is I'm alone so infrequently it's kinda cool being on my own once in awhile. I'm twenty years old and don't need someone holding my hand all the time; I can take care of myself. Obviously I'm not going on any rides alone, that'd be pathetic. I'll just wander around wherever I feel like and I know a place I want to scope out for old time sake. It's the Mohawk Tattoo and Piercing parlor where I had one of the strangest experiences of my life. I'm not going inside the shop though, just look in to see what's changed and see if that Mohawk guy is still scaring people out of their wits doing whatever he wants with them. Well, I'm misrepresenting that a little bit because he gave me a pamphlet the day before my appointment that explained what procedures were involved. I was too lazy to read it and when he asked if I wanted the works I didn't want to admit I hadn't read the damn thing so I got the works. Mohawk man thought I wanted a Mohawk haircut, a tattoo, and my other ear pierced, plus a fuck and whatever else went with the 'works'. What the hell, the tattoo is cool and Chubby even got one when he saw mine. Robby still claims he's going to get one too. That big stoic, scary Mohawk bastard totally had his way with me. Talk about a submissive trance, holy shit, did he ever dominant my ass. I was completely docile while he was doing whatever he wanted, but that was two years ago and I'm much more mature now. Plus, I do not want a Mohawk haircut, so I'll stay clear of him. In many ways it was a surreal trip like might happen if I'd taken a hallucinogenic drug of some kind. Thinking back to that time, maybe I was wilder and more adventurous in those days, or maybe it's just that I was stupider then I am now. On the way to the Tattoo Parlor I spot someone leaning against the railing on the beach side of the boardwalk that I'm thinking I recognize from last year or the year before. He's so cute he's not someone I'd likely forget meeting, although I can't remember his name. There's someone with him, his back towards me as he looks out at the ocean. People keep walking in between the cute kid and where I'm standing, so it's like I only get a flicker of him during the quick openings in between the people walking by. Hmmm, if it's the kid I'm thinking of there's something different about him now, but what is it? I casually wander a little closer dodging the crowds as I try to figure out what's different about this guy? Or am I confusing him with someone else. Then he glances over and sees me. A really cute little grin breaks out on his face as he waves with just his hand, a little wave of his fingers, and calls to me above the boardwalk noises, "Yo, Dylan, whassup?" I still can't come up with a name, but then the coolest stud ever turns around with a cigarette between his lips and says something to the cute kid. Grinning to myself, I know what they're names are now... Mike and Richie. What a couple they are! Mike is so cool, beautiful, and oh so confident and Richie is so fucking cute it should be illegal, plus he's one of the nicest kids I've ever meant. Of course that's pretty much a first impression because I don't really know them well at all. Come to think of it, Mike was kind of a prick to me at first but he turned out to be really nice once I sort of acknowledge to him that he's the alpha dog, so to speak. He's got an uber dominant personality and I remember thinking the chip on his shoulder is maybe covering up something, and I say that because underneath the hard exterior he's got a soft heart, and you can see he really loves Richie, who's the cutest puppy dog ever. I remember thinking it might be that Mike's fighting an internal battle knowing he's gay, but wanting to be something else. From the way he and Richie interact there's no doubt in my mind they're gay. Mike acts tough though, maybe because that's the picture he has of himself in his head. The reality of him being gay might be a confusing contradiction physiologically for him, and the fact he can't resist Richie must entail enormous amounts of rationalization in Mike's mind too. Richie on the other hand is quite comfortable being who he is, like me... if I'm not giving myself too much credit, that is. Hey, I'm just guessing about all this. For all I know none of my speculations are accurate. And now I know what's different about these two. They're no longer rocking the buzz cut look I remember. They both have longer hair, but it's cool, not nineteen-eighties-style long hair. I'm just standing here now in sort of a daze because there's something about both of them that makes my dick jump up and down. Richie points at me and Mike smirks with a little smart-ass grin on his face. He flicks his cigarette butt over the railing way out into the dark night, then he does his index finger wiggle, like 'come over here'. Ha ha, I wouldn't expect this cool dude to come over to little ole' me. I try to be cool walking over but I have a silly grin on my face too. Mike kind of intimidates me, although I'm not afraid he'll hurt me, it's more like I don't want to do anything to disappoint him. I want to please him so he'll like me. It's the oddest thing and I don't pretend to understand it. I go to Mike first of course and he gives be a hand clasp and a hug with a couple of pats on the back, saying, "Dylan, good to see you again, and you didn't try running me over this time, so I'm grateful for that." It's coming back to me now how sexy this kid is and he's got a sexy scent to go along with everything else. I stupidly kiss his cheek and then blush a deep red as Mike chuckles, saying, "Thanks for the kiss, numbnuts. Hey, Richie here was wondering if you'd be coming to Wildwood this year. He just mentioned it a day or two ago." Mike's body is hard and tight, like my dick is getting to be. I look into his eyes and he smiles, asking, "Aren't ya gonna say hello to Richie?" I nod my head doing a silly chuckle, "Heh, heh, of course," and my eyes switch to Richie's beautiful eyes. He's smiling at me with that inviting expression on his face and his arms open. I mutter, "Hi, Richie," and he gives me a hug, then a kiss on my lips, saying, "Yeah, I asked Mike just last night if he thought we'd see you. Mike says you're cuter than me so I was hoping you wouldn't show up, ha ha," but the way he said that, I know he's kidding." We talk about the time Mike thought I blew my horn at him, but it wasn't me. He doesn't like people blowing their horn at him. Back then he softened up later, as I said, but only after I totally became submissive to him, not that I had a choice. He offered to give me a ride on his motor bike too and I really wanted to, but chickened out. I've always wondered what would have happened if I'd gone with him. We all have a cigarette as I tell them about the college I'm going to. They're going into their junior year at West Chester University. Richie stares at Mike when Mike's talking and he leans against him a lot too. Mike gives Richie a look every once in awhile and Richie straightens up, then two minutes later he's leaning against Mike's side again. Finally Mike gives up on his tough act and puts his arm around Richie's neck, pulls his head over and kisses the side of his forehead. It's sweet actually, and you can see they're in love. I'll bet Richie isn't alley-catting around like I do. If Mike was my boyfriend I'll bet I wouldn't be doing it either. None of us mentions we're gay, it's just understood whether Mike believes it or not. I feel good being with them and sorta wish Mike had his arm around my neck. Mike says to me, "You like playing pocket ball, I see," and Richie goes, "Don't embarrass Dylan, Mike," as I realize I am indeed playing with myself. Blushing again, I pull my hands out of my pocket and light another cigarette that I don't really want as Mike chuckles and smirks at me. He's ridiculously good looking and so sexy it makes my eyes water. I clear my throat, then do a series of fake coughs that gets Richie patting my back, asking, "You okay, Dylan?" God, he's a nice kid. I say, "Yeah, thanks Richie, I think a drop of saliva got in my windpipe." Mike says, "Or maybe you were feeling uncomfortable about getting caught playing with yourself so you did some fake coughs to cover up your embarrassment." Richie goes, "Mike! Stop picking on Dylan!" Mike chuckles and says, "Richie, how about getting us all one of those fresh squeezed lemonades," as he's reaching in his pocket for money. Richie says, "My treat, I'll be right back," and he gives me a smile and squeezes my arm as he walks past me. I turn my head to watch him until he disappear in the crowd. He's walking across to where a couple hundred shops line the boardwalk for it's entire two miles. Looking back at Mike I see he's staring at me, then he points at the railing next to him and I step over to that spot, staring back at him. He gets his arm around my neck like I was wishing he'd do a couple of minutes ago, and roughly pulls the side of my face against his. My cock gets hard in my pants, as he quietly says, "You're not lusting after my boyfriend, are you?" I stammer, "Lust? Um, ah, whaddaya mean?" He says, "You know what I mean," and I go, "I'm not lusting after Richie, although he's definitely worth lusting after and so are you. I'm, ah, okay maybe I am lusting after him, but I wouldn't ever act on it. I'm passive and need to be invited, Richie never invited me." Mike goes, "Good to know." My arm goes around his waist, seemingly on it's own. His body against mine is so awesome and I can feel some sexy five o'clock shadow whiskers under his sideburn too. Mike says, "If Richie was alone, you wouldn't try to seduce him, right?" I go, "Not intentionally," and Mike laughs, then goes, "Well, just so ya know, others have tried and it hasn't worked out well for them." I mutter, "I'm not going to be one of them," and he says, "I didn't think so. You smell good, Dylan, has anyone ever mentioned that?" I go, "Um, I don't think so," and he chuckles, mumbling, "Sure they have," then he kisses my cheek, saying, "There's your kiss back," as his arms drags across my shoulder and then his hand ruffles the hair at the back of my head. My shoulders shudder a little, and he says, "Now you've got the proper haircut to join my old gang, but that was back then so you've still got the wrong haircut," and he laughs again, adding, "You're sexy cute, Dylan." He lets go of me, but my arm stays around his waist until he gives me a look, and I let go of him. As he lights a cigarette, he asks me if I have a boyfriend and I'm telling him about Robby as Richie returns holding three cups of lemonade between both his hands. There are three guys with him. Mike says, "It about fucking time you guys showed up." Richie ignores Mike's comment and says, "Dylan," and then introduces the three kids as he points to each one, "Tony, Mac, and Sammy, guys this is Dylan Newman." I bump fists with the three guys, asking, "How the hell did you you remember my last name, Richie?" He shrugs, "I don't know, do you remember mine?" I think for a second, and ask, "Is it Mealy?" He goes, "Yeah, how'd you remember that?" I shrug grinning at him, saying, "I don't know." Mike goes, "Well, now that we've established you both made a big impression on each other, lets get going." He asks the three newcomers, "How much money are you numbnuts bringing with ya?" Richie says to me, "We're going to Atlantic City to do a little gambling, ya wanna come?" I go, "It's kinda late isn't it?" He nods at Mike, "Yeah, but his brother works in one of the casinos and he don't get off until midnight. Mike wants to hang out with him. You can play the slot machines with me, it's fun." I shake my head, "I'm not twenty-one, so I wouldn't be able to gamble." He goes, "Oh, I forgot about that. It's cool being legal age, you'll see." I go, "Yeah, in a year I guess I will." Mike joins us, asking, "Is the sweetheart reunion over yet?" Richie grins, "Not quite yet, Mike," and he leans over and kisses my lips, then says, "I needed to kiss Dylan goodbye." Mike twist his lips making a face, then he grins, "Okay, now let's go," then he points at me, saying, "I'm glad you don't live in Wildwood or go to West Chester University. If you did I'd need to be a lot nicer to Richie, wouldn't I Richie?" He laughs, "Yeah, maybe, Mike... haha, but probably not," and Mike gets his arm around Richie's neck again, saying to me, "See ya next year, Dylan. Have the right fucking haircut for once and maybe you can join my gang." The five of them start walking across the boardwalk with Richie looking back and giving me his little finger wave, saying, "Bye, Dylan, it was great seeing you again." I wave back smiling, and then watch them all walk to the other side of the boardwalk and then down the ramp, leaving me wondering about Mike's leadership skills. His so-called gang remains loyal to him even though he's gay and in love with Richie, and what about Mike's brother? I got the impression from Mike last time that his brother was a bad ass so I wonder how he received the news his brother's gay? Humph, interesting, and it makes me think about Ray and how his posse just accepts Ray's bisexuality without batting an eye, or do they? Thinking about that, the truth is I don't know enough about any of them to understand the dynamics of it all. I do know this, Ray is no Mike Sullivan... not even close. Mike has charisma and such a, um, such a strong personality, is the best I can come up with, but whatever it is, I can't get him off my mind. I'm wandering aimlessly down the boardwalk thinking about that unexpected encounter with Mike and Richie and it hits me that, strong personality or not, Mike was jealous of the attention Richie paid me. I gotta believe he loves Richie more than he admits to himself, but then, what do I know? I'm thinking that'll be the end of my amateur psychiatrist activity for the night, or maybe it won't because I think I know that cute kid standing in line for a funnel cake. What was his name? Danny, yeah, that's him, the kid who waited on Chubby and me in that open-front restaurant on the boardwalk, the one offering old favorites like grilled to order hamburgers, hot dogs, and cheese steaks. The entire staff consisted of high school boys with burr haircuts, all wearing the same thing: jeans and white t-shirts with the name of the restaurant across the back, 'Grant's Boardwalk Grill'. The man, Mister Grant, works the cash register and he also gives the boys haircuts every week, and what else does he give the boys? That's the question Chubby and I wanted to know. It's a mighty suspicious arrangement old Mister Grant has going for himself, and when I asked Danny if his boss interacted with the staff, Danny's face turned a brighter shade of pale, I mean red. Standing in line with his friend, Danny has a sparkling sweet smile on his cute face just like he had when he took our order for lunch. Danny, like all the boys working with him, is slim with a friendly expression seemingly always on their faces. He's no more than seventeen I would guess, and the kid with him I think was one of the kids working the grill the day we were there. Yeah, they were part of the day shift so they'd have nights off and here they are. Danny has a pale complexion with brown eyes and blond hair, and that aforementioned sparkling smile. Actually, he's closer to pretty than cute. His friend has a swarthy complexion with dark eyes and hair, and an unusual collection of facial featrures that, while cute at his age, will probably be kind of silly-looking when he's an adult. I'm curious if Chubby's anonymous phone call to the police got any results, that's if they even investigated. Sauntering closer to Danny we make casual eye contact, just a passing glance without any recognition from him, so he doesn't remember me. That's understandable as he must see a couple hundred people every day. Hmmm, I need a plan. It's always good to have a plan, but not always so easy to come up with one. Curiosity killed the cat I hear, but I'm not a cat, so fuck it, I walk up to Danny and tap him on the shoulder. He turns around smiling his killer smile until he realizes he doesn't know me, and turns the smile down to a grin. I say, "Excuse me, but do you work at that restaurant on 37th street?" His friend says, "Yeah, why?" and Danny nods his head in agreement, glancing over at his friend's rude response. I go, "Oh, no problem, I just wondered if they're hiring. I just got laid off at Fralinger's salt water taffy and need a job, um, you know so I can stay down here the rest of the summer. I've eaten at your restaurant and noticed all the guys on the staff are about my age so it looks like a cool place to work, that's all." It's their turn at the funnel cake counter so they order their funnel cakes, then Danny asks me, "Do you want one?" I go, "Nah, I just ate dinner an hour or so ago. Um, about the job... ah, are they hiring, do ya know?" He shrugs, muttering, "They may be," and then pays for his sweet treat, and says, "We're going over to the other side of the boardwalk to sit on a bench and enjoy eating this non-fattening piece of sugared fried dough." I walk next to him, mumbling, "I really don't think you need to worry too much about calories," and he chuckles. Nodding his head at his friend, he says, "My friend's suspicious of anyone asking about the restaurant because strangers have been asking questions about it the past two days and it's a little bit coincidental that you're interested too." His friend says, "Yeah, and I don't believe in coincidences." I go, "Huh," then to Danny, "What kind of questions are they asking?" He talks with his mouth full of funnel cake with small pieces flying my way. I resist the urge to open my mouth to catch a piece straight from his pink mouth with those cute smallish white teeth of his, as Danny says, "Not like your question about a job, more like, I don't know, asking about the working environment, stuff like that." The other kid says, "Two men, who both say they work for some city agency that monitors the boardwalk restaurants to see if they're following code. Sounds like bull shit to me." So the cops did follow up, wait'll I tell Chubby. I'm not sure how to proceed, so to stall for time, I ask, "Do you mind if I smoke?" Danny shakes his head 'no' while the other kid says, "Yeah, I mind." Shrugging, I say, "Well, I don't work for anyone at the moment, never mind the city of Wildwood, so do you think it's worth my time applying there tomorrow?" Danny finishes his cake, and says, "It's kinda weird you asks, actually, because two kids got canned today and we have no idea why." His friend says, "I think I could make a damn good guess why they got canned," and Danny subtly shakes his head discouraging his friend from saying more. I ask the kid, "Why's that?" He looks defiantly at Danny, then looks a me, and says, "Let's just say they stopped being cooperative with the boss man." Danny says, "George, you don't know that." George goes, "Not for sure, but if I get fired before the end of week it'll prove I'm right. I'm not cooperating with the boss man any longer either." Danny says, "Don't get fired, George, please." George frowns, "We'll talk about it later." I hesitantly say to George, "Well, I was gonna apply for as job tomorrow, um, unless you don't think I should." He goes, "Do whatever you want, I don't know you." I ask, "Did you know all the kids when the summer began?" He says, "We're all from the same high school, but no, I didn't know anyone except Danny, but what's that got to do with you?" I say, "Why all the attitude, George?" and he says, "Ahh, forget it, it's not your fault. Some shit's going on that's had me pissed-off from the beginning of the summer, and I guess I'm taking it out on you." Then he says to Danny, "That funnel cake made me feel like barfing, I'm going back to the place and hit the sack. You coming?" Danny looks at him, then at me, and says, "I'll be along shortly, I want to help this kid decide if he really wants the job." George says, "Good, that's what I started to do, but you cut me off." They stand up and clasp hands giving each other the familiar one arm hug, muttering, "Later, dude." Danny sits down with me and we silently watch George disappear into the crowd. Danny asks, "What's your name?" and I go, "Dylan Newman, nice to meet you." We shake hands as Danny mumbles, "Yeah, nice meeting you too, um, ya wanna walk?" I go, "Sure." Not wanting to seem overly eager about what he has to say, I'm waiting for him to bring the job up again. We walk for a minute or so, then he says, "Don't mind me, you can smoke if you want to and, um, can I bum one off you? I wanted to give up cigarettes for the summer, but I've got no willpower." I mutter, "Yeah, I hear ya, I have very little of that myself," as I pass him a cigarette, then hold my Bic lighter up so he can light his cigarette. He cups my hand with both of his and the feel of his palms on my hand, with his head bent down and his blond burr hair close to my face, oh my god, it's enough to get my dick doing a cartwheel. His head's bent down, still holding my hand between both of his as Danny's eyes travel up to the top of their sockets and he grins, squeezes my hand, then a big exhale of cigarette smoke tells me the cigarettes lit. I swear he's holding my hand much longer then necessary. He mutters, with the cigarette between his lips, "Thanks, man, I really miss smoking." Then he lets go of my hand and I do a fake cough, then sputter, "Your welcome," and light my cigarette with my hand a little shaky. He goes, "Um, I don't want to talk about what I'm going to say with all these people around. Would it be okay with you if we walk on the beach?" I'm still trying to get over smelling his hair and the feel of his hands on mine, and I'm thinking this gets better minute by minute. I say, "The beach is a good idea, Danny," he nods, giving me a grin, "Yeah, the beach is probably a very good idea, Dylan." And the way he said that gets me wondering if we're communicating in the same language, so ta speak. If by some stretch of the imagination I'm thinking along the same sexual lines as Danny, I wonder how that fits in with what I think is going on at the restaurant. At the bottom of the stairs we take our sandals off and walk in our bare feet. The sand's still a little warm from todays hot temperature and hot sun. Danny says, "The bottom line is you'll have no trouble getting a job at Grant's, Dylan, if you want one, that is." I ask, "Why's that?" He looks at me, and says, "To put it bluntly, you're cute, slim, and girls, or maybe even some boys, probably think you're sexy. Mister Grant feels guys on staff with those attributes helps attract customers." I go, "Thats weird, but thanks for the compliment and I can say the same about you." He grins, mumbling, "Thanks, and bingo, as soon as old man Grant saw me I got hired on the spot. No interview, no filling out of an application, no nothing." I play dumb, "That's pretty unusual, isn't it?" He shrugs, "Not for that place it isn't." I ask, "You're saying all the staff is, um, you know, good looking and the other things you mentioned?" He goes, "Nah, it's just what Mister Grant prefers, but some of the guys are very ordinary looking. How many of us cute guys do you think there are?" I ask, "The guys I saw at the restaurant all have the same haircuts too, not that I mind... look at my hair, but is that a requirement?" He makes a face, like he doesn't like having to admit it, saying, "Yeah, that's definitely a requirement, and not one of the highlights of the job. Mister Grant gives us haircuts, one guy in his room at a time, and performance evaluations every week. He seems to get 'off' giving these burr haircuts to all of us weekly and he's, um, how to put this? He's a very touchy/feely individual, if you get my drift." I pretend confusion, "Touchy/feely, how so?" Danny looks at me, and says, "He's like queer, ya know? Gropes our privates and sometimes he does it with his bare hand, as well as other stuff." I look shocked, "He puts his hands inside your underwear?" Danny nods, mumbling, "He makes it seem like a joke, like he's one of us teens just grab-assing with one of the guys. Gene Gello told me old man Grant gave him twenty dollars to let the man blow him and who knows what other kids let him do to them, or with him, when they're in the room with him alone." This sounds familiar, very similar to the window washer boys fiasco. I go, "That's sick, but at least he's not doing anything with you except groping you." Danny makes a face, shrugs, and then mutters, "He's done a hell of a lot more with me than that, and I've got the money to prove it, but don't tell anyone. For some reason I'm feeling simpatico with you." Nodding my head, I pat his shoulder, asking, "How come none of you guys tells on him?" Danny's like, "He doesn't do anything to anyone if they're not a least eighteen and he has this way of making it seem like a game, asking permission to touch your dick, for example, or asking if it's okay to do whatever, and it's for money. So it's not like rape or anything and we want to stay in Wildwood for the summer. Plus, it'd be awfully embarrassing squealing on him now that we've been putting up with being manhandled for six weeks already. It started out slow, but it's picking up speed lately. That's probably why he fired those kids. They wouldn't go for what he wanted then to. And they weren't, you know, cute... so he probably wants someone cuter anyway. You'll be perfect, Jesus will you ever get his attention! It's sick, like you said." I go, "Yeah, but I can see you're in an awkward spot alright," and Danny quietly adds, "It gets worse, a couple of us are gay, so saying it's awkward is an understatement." I ask, "You're gay?" He nods his head, "Yeah, me and George, but don't look so shocked." I suck on my bottom lip, hmmmm. Then he slowly says, "And I think you are too. Am I right?" My dick is moving in my shorts because this kid is legitimately hot, and he's eighteen... he said the perv only messes with legal age guys... legal age for sex, that is. I glance over at him, "Yeah, I'm gay. Does old man Grant fuck you?" He shakes his head, "Not yet, but I've tasted his cock a few times." I go, "How do you do it with an old guy?" He says, "Don't be judgmental, Dylan. It's a weird situation and anyway he's never going to fuck me because I'm a top, George is the bottom and he's suppose to appease the old fart, but he's backing out. That's why he thinks he's going to get fired. Grant wants to fuck him for a hundred bucks and George doesn't want to." I say, "George is kinda cute, so maybe he won't get fired." Danny chuckles, "He ain't that cute and I tell him he's going to be a strange looking adult." I say, "Well, I'm not applying for a job because I can't do it with anyone much older then me." Danny stops walking, looks me in the eyes, and says, "I'm not older then you," and we stare into each others eyes for awhile. I go to say something, but it sticks in my throat. He steps in front of me and puts his hand on my cock and balls, saying, "Let's do it. I want to fuck you and your eyes tell me you want me to. Am I right," and his face closes in on mine with our lips meeting. His free hand goes behind my head as his tongue slips into my mouth. I can taste the sugar from the funnel cake. His hand massages my crotch, then lets go and, while kissing me, he unsnaps the button to my shorts and puts his hand down the front of my underwear and my cock bones up tightly. This is so sudden I'm caught off guard. I'd never expect this sweet kid to be so forward and confident. A moan drifts from my throat, "Mmmmm." We're in the shadow of the boardwalk. Someone would need to lean way over the rail from twenty feet up to even get a glimpse of us. Danny gets a firm hold at the back of my neck, and as his lips slip off mine, he whispers, "Get down and suck my cock," as he pushing on the back of my neck. I've been totally taken by surprise at his confident efficiency. I gasp, and he says a little sterner, "Suck my cock," pushing harder. My shoulders shudder as I go down on my knees and he pulls my face against the crotch of his shorts, with his other hand he's rubbing my head gently as if to calm me. "Pull my pants down and get my cock in your mouth." He's captivated me totally and I hug around his thighs smelling his crotch. Danny lets go of me and pulls his pants down himself and now my face is now buried in his pubic hairs, his cock next to my nose and my chin pushing his balls back. The smell is erotic as hell, musky and he's in need of a shower. Danny gets some of my short hairs between his thumb and forefinger pulling my face away from him a little . Taking his cock in his free hand he rubs the head around my face and under my nose, then between my lips and I open my mouth. He slides his cock in on my tongue making a hissing sounds as he does it. Danny slides his cock side to side on my tongue and then he gets his hips moving, sliding his cock in and out on my tongue. I'm still clutching his legs, although I don't know why. Somehow I've drifted into one of my sexually stimulated trances and it feels wonderful. In my trance I love Danny and I love his cock too. My lips close on it adding additional friction and it bones up fast. An average size cock but it seems big compared to Junior's. Well, it is big compared to Junior's. He pulls his boner out, muttering, "Suck my balls," and as I lick his scrotum he pushes his saliva ladened boner around my face and in my hair, then cupping behind my head with both hands, he coos, "You're doing good, Dylan, just like I thought you would." His words come from far off and I don't concentrate on them because his balls taste good. I get a nut in my mouth to hum on it and he grunts, "Yowl," and goes up on his toes. A big glob of precum drools from his cock to slide down my forehead. "Pull your pants down and turn around on all fours. You're gonna get fucked good and I know you want it bad." I make an embarrassing whiny sound pulling my pants down to my knees. Danny gets behind me pushing my head down and when my hands hit the sand his boner forces it way past my sphincter muscle with one good thrust. He goes, "Hmmm, yeah," and pushes more cock up my ass. It hurts, so I grunt as Danny cups my shoulders and pulls be back onto his cock until his pubic hairs flatten against my buttocks. I see stars and make another whiny sound as Danny pulls back and drive it right back up my ass, as he's groaning with sexual pleasure, "Ahhh, yeaaah." Then he pulls back and shoves it in again a little smoother this time with less resistance from my rectum, but my anus is burning. Another withdrawal and hard thrust back in moves me forward in the sand a inch or so. Now he begins pounding his cock in my ass relentlessly, and wildly, with me moaning at each awesome penetration, "Ooooh, ummm, ohh, ohh, ohh, mmmm, ooh," Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap goes his body against my ass with Danny never letting go of my shoulders. He begins pulling me back as he drives his cock in, and my world is one big sexual turn-on with fantastic sensations screaming pleasure to my brain. My cock is so hard it doesn't move when Danny roughly pulls me back against his thrusts. I'm dizzy with all the awesome sensations exploding in my ass, but it doesn't last very long. My orgasm builds quickly and I'm soon gagging with the desire to climax. My back arches and I go, "Aaaaah," as cum pour from my cock straight down to splatter in the sand. My toes curl painfully and my body shakes as four fast spurts of cum follow the first. He's still grunting, driving his cock up my ass. I'm so spent my head drops down to my hands and now Danny's driving his rock hard cock down my asshole as I moan quietly at the pleasure of being fucked so good, hoping it continues forever. But it doesn't, Danny grunts, flopping on my ass and lifting his legs off the sand as my ass gets filled up to overflowing with his creamy teen cum. He's breathing deeply as sensations of orgasm flee my body and only then do I hear the sound of the ocean waves breaking on the beach again. We're like this for a minute or so, then Danny straightens up and pulls his cock out of my ass making a wet slurping sound when the head pulls free of my clutching anus lips. His cum drools down both my butt cheeks and he smacks my ass in his cum, a stinging slap. I go, "Ow!" and he says, "That should hold you for awhile my new friend. Here I've got some napkins from the funnel shop," and he wipes my ass as I'm brushing my hands together dusting off the sand. I feel pretty damn good too. Breathlessly, he says, "You shave your pubes, that takes guts." Taking a deep breath, I say, "Me and my boyfriend back home shave each other, it's sexy. Um, you really took me by surprise, Danny. I was totally not expecting that from a baby faced kid like you. Wow, you fuck good." He smiles and helps me up, mumbling, "I needed that so bad you wouldn't believe how much. George and I have no place to fuck in the dorm room and he's too prissy to do in the sand like this. Whoa, that was such a relief." I'm snapping my shorts and pulling up the zipper, then I brush the sand off my shorts, saying, "I can feel sand in my underpants sticking to your cum." He laughs, then asks, "Can you hang out with me awhile? I can do you again even better in an hour or so. We'll both last longer, orgasm-wise." to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com Please consider a tax-deductible donation to Nifty, a nonprofit organization, to help with the expenses of maintaining this huge story site that offers something for everyone. Thank you.