Date: Tue, 21 Jun 2016 14:13:54 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S VACATION BACK HOME Chapter  31

DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION BACK  HOME



Chapter  31



by  Donny Mumford



Obviously I want  to look good for Robby on our date tonight so I put some
effort into it  choosing casual clothes I feel are also kinda cool. After
all I haven't  been with him most of the summer so when I do see him I want to
look  my best. Checking myself out in the bathroom mirror for about the
sixth  time in the last half hour, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be. My
hair looks like shit of course, but there's nothing to be done about  that.

It's at an in between stage, six weeks since my last haircut but  it's still
pretty short, and now it's also scraggly and uneven as  well. I can only comb
the hairs on the top, front part of my  head. Ryan's so-called specialty
haircut presents me with the same problems  a guy with a buzz cut has, which
is: the hair will obviously grow out the  same length all over, so for two to
three months it looks awful. It's over  the tops of my ears but not long
enough to comb on top. Most guys with  a buzz cut keep getting buzz cuts
because it's a pain in the ass going  through the growing-out period. I'm
determined to persevere through the  months of looking like a ragamuffin until my
hair's long enough to  train in a sensible hair style. And I'm definitely
having  serious second-thoughts about waiting a year or more until my hair's
long  enough for a stubby ponytail. That pipe dream has just about run its
course as the reality of the  situation is staring back at me from the mirror.

A final glance at my  mirror reflection and I'm like, "Fuckin' hair!" and
swat my comb through  the front hairs. Then I hear the doorbell, oh boy, here
we go! Walking  quickly from my bathroom to the front door, then stop for a
 second to calm myself down. I don't want to act like a geek, although  I'm
pretty stoked to see Robby. Then, with my best smile in place, I  open the
door and blink fast four or five times, stuttering, "Oh! Um, ah...  Hi,
Willie, "Um, what...?" Willie Worthington has his best smile in place  too, and
it's a damn good one. The one where the bridge of his nose  wrinkles a little.

Huh, I've always thought he had awesomely white  teeth and sexy lips. He
looks great. The best I've ever seen him look  actually.

My heart goes pitter  patter and my dick goes on alert as a million
memories of Willie and  me as seventeen-year-old kids flows in a flash through my
mind. He steps inside the open door, saying, "Dylan, I, um. Wow, you are so
perfect!" He hugs me quickly, adding, "I was coming back from getting my
haircut  and it made me think of the time you gave me a haircut, remember?" I
glance  at his light brown hair for a second as my brain tries to catch-up
with  this totally unexpected development. All I can do is stare at  him,
completely taken by surprise.  He sees me staring, so he grins that
ridiculously cute grin of his, saying, "And, so I thought I'd say, hello."  Chuckling
now, he adds, "I can tell you're thrilled to see me," and when I  squint my
eyes he laughs that silly laugh of his, asking, "How are  you? You can still
talk, right?"

I don't think I've ever  seen him look so cutely handsome. Some guys get
dorkier-looking the  older they get and some get better looking. Willie's
definitely in the  latter category, and now he has the trendy short whiskers
'look' going  for him too. His big brown eyes shine with intelligence as I
finally manage to say, "Hi Willie, yeah I can talk a little. Nice tan, and  you
look, um, really good yourself." He tentatively places a hand on  each of
my shoulders, grinning at me, asking, "May I?" My eyes get big  as he's
leaning in for a kiss that ends up with us hugging one another doing a  ten
second, really sloppy French kiss. It actually seemed much longer than ten
seconds when we were doing it. My dick firms up and when I pull back, he says,
"I'm sorry, but... um, I'm sorry I did that." He's an inch taller than me, his
body as taut and slim as ever.

I gasp, "No,  ha, it's alright. Um, you just surprised me. How are you?"

He quietly  says, "You get better looking every time I see you. What are you
doing with your  hair though?" My fingers ruffle through my short hair, as
he adds, "I always  took you to classy hair stylists, but this is...." I
shrug, "Um, no you  didn't. Remember you took me to that barbershop near an Army
base one time, and  then that barbershop in Wellesley, I think it was... with
the grumpy barber.  Remember?" He makes a cute face, "Oh, yeah, you're
right. Then in Key West I had  you get a haircut like the guy in that gay club
had.... Oh, never mind that  though. Bad memories in Key West." I say, "Some
good ones too." He nods his  head, grinning and reaching over to try
smoothing my hair. I push his hand  away, saying, "Well, now I'm letting my hair
grow out and it's in a  transitional, um, state or phase." For some reason I'm
holding his hand, the one  I just pushed away. I'm remembering him teaching
me so many things about gay  sex, and how not to be self-conscious about
showing affection in public.  Things that made me extremely uncomfortable at
the time, but things I do  routinely now.

Willie glances down at  my hand that's holding his, and I let go, asking,
"Um, are you going with  anyone now?" He grins his really cute grin again,
saying, "Oh fuck, Dylan, I'm  embarrassed to tell you this," and he actually
blushes a little, saying, "I was  going with this girl. Yeah, a girl named,
Pammy Heart, from college. Fooling  myself actually. It worked okay for a few
months, but I'm gay at heart. So, no  I'm not going with anyone now. Ha ha,
I wasn't actually going with anyone  when I was going with Pammy. How 'bout
you?" I nod my head, "Yeah, Robby and  I are in love." Willie makes a face,
asking, "Still?" then he grins,  and mutters something I say all the time,
"Balls!" then, "I was afraid of  that," and he rubs my shoulder, saying,
"I'm happy for you though, really.  Dickers is a lucky bastard, and not good
enough for you, not nearly good  enough." We're standing a foot inside the
door, which is awkward, but I'm no  stranger to awkwardness. I mumble, "He's
plenty good enough for  me."

I'm a little tongue  tied from trying to understand my feelings for Willie,
and from worrying that  Robby will be here any second now. Willie says,
"Well, you're probably on your  way out somewhere, right? You look really nice,
by the way." I shrug, "Oh,  thanks," and hold my arms out like I modeling
something, muttering, "Look! Most  of what I have on you gave me." He frowns,
taking notice, "Holy shit,  you're still wearing that cross necklace, huh?
It's cool though, just  saying...." I hold it up, stupidly telling him,
"It's a David Yurman necklace,"  as if he didn't know. He bought it for me. He
nods, "Yeah, I know. It was the  first present I ever gave you, I think.

Wasn't it?" I nod my  head feeling strangely attracted to him. For something to
say, I go,  "Nice haircut, Willie. The guy did a good, you know, good
styling job."  Naturally it's one of the latest hair style fads; Willie follows
the  latest style in most things. Willie has awesome hair, but this particular
 hair style I don't care for at all. I must admit though it looks  better
on him than anyone I've seen with it. The sides and back are cut  very short,
almost shaved, and the hair is left quite long on top.  Willie's long
light-brown top hairs are wavy in sort of a  moussed pompadour. I've given a few
haircuts like that for guys who asked  for it. As a matter of fact, I cut
Charlie's hair in a vague version  of Willie's. Aside from his haircut though
I can't get over how  handsome he's become. Thinking back to that long
string-bean of a kid with the  longish head and the freckles across the bridge of
his nose, it's hard to  believe he's morphed into his present form. I can
still see a few of the  little freckles even now.

Grinning again, he  asks, "Why are you staring at me, Dylan? Do I have a
piece of spinach in my  teeth or something?" I shake my head, "No, I'm
admiring you. You're very  handsome." He seems taken aback by that. "Dylan! Thank
you! It  always surprises me the way you come right out and say exactly
what's  on your mind. There's no filter from your mind to your mouth, so you say
the damnedest things sometimes, things most guys wouldn't think of saying."

 I go, "Oh, I didn't know that," although others have told me the same
thing.  Willie says, "Anyway, compared to you I look like the runt of the
litter,  so to speak." He picked that up from me; the 'so to speak' phrase. I'd
like to  feel my arms around his neck. Jesus! Where the fuck did that random
thought  come from? He does have a good neck though, ya know, for  hugging.

Instead of doing that, I say, "Not just this necklace; you've  always been
extremely generous with gifts, Willie. I love all the stuff  you've given me
over the years." Holding up my arm, I'm like, "Remember this  sport watch you
bought me in Key West?" He says, "Oh yeah, it's cool," but I can  tell he
doesn't remember.

My cell phone  rings and I take it out, muttering, "Excuse me,"  and see
it's a text from Robby. 'Running late. Leaving now. Can't wait to  kiss you.'
Willy asks, "Dickers?" and I nod my head, "Yeah. Um, we're  going out to
dinner. I've been in Wildwood all week, and..."  Willie interrupts saying,
"Please, don't remind me of that  place. You saved my life there." I have
nothing to say to that, so he  asks, "How many times have you saved my life?"

Frowning as if I'm thinking about  it, I mutter, "I don't know." Then, without
thinking, I just come out with,  "Can we have dinner together some time?"

Then I blush, not believing I just  suggested that. Willie looks startled too,
"Nothing would make me happier.  Well, ha ha, yeah if you were my lover I'd
be happier, but I'm thrilled you want  us to have a dinner date. Listen, I
really need to run now, but I'll  call you. This is wonderful, Dylan! Seeing
you has been as special as it always  is."

I'm nodding my head, my  face feeling hot, then we're hugging again... his
slim body has always felt  good. I resist putting my arms around his neck
though, and we only do a  quick kiss on the lips. "I'll call you, Dylan," he
stops, then says, "Just  dinner, right? I couldn't survive another, you know,
situation where  I'm thinking I have a chance with you and then losing you
again."  I say, "Nah, we'll be best friends or something," and he does his
beautiful  smile, "Best friends it is! I'd really like that. Bye, Dylan," and
he  athletically skips down the steps. He's always been very light on his
feet. He's a very  good athlete too. Closing the door, I'm kind of reeling,
not knowing  what to make of my reaction at seeing him. Then I open the  door
quickly to see what his latest new car is, but he's  gone.

I drop in a wing chair,  literally shocked at my reaction to Willie's
surprise visit. What the  fuck? It was so unexpected, but I found myself happy to
see him.  Well, we've always been close friends, and even more than that at
 times, although there were other times when I wouldn't talk to him or see
him.  Willie was my first real boyfriend though, and he's actually the most
unique person I've ever known. He's totally his own person except  for the
times he's tried to change who he in an effort to  please me. He's always
thought he loved me too, although I'm not sure he  knows what love is. I say
he's his own person, but I should make that  plural, persons. He's had a
number of personalities, both sex-wise  and otherwise. He's submissive, then
dominant, then sex master, then  the slave, you know. His frequent self image
changes were  him trying to find which one works best for him. He's kooky,
putting it  mildly, but I really like him. Maybe this latest Willie
Worthington is  finally the right one... for him, I mean. The right one  for... him.

Enough about Willie  though, I need to refocus on Robby. Going into the
bathroom I wash my face with  cold water, then try re-combing my hair for the
tenth time,  finally settling on simply combing the hairs in front over to
the  side. The other hairs stick up on top and the hairs over my  ears remain
shaggy, but Robby will understand. Then I grab the picture  Mom had framed
of Robby and me and stare at it feeing warmth in my heart. Robby  and I both
have flat top haircuts. Huh, must have been a couple of  years ago. Yeah,
good! Forget Willie, for now anyway. Maybe having  dinner and being best
friends with him will be nice. The kind of best friend I  can call when I'm
feeling down, or whatever. Of course I already have the  best, best-friend the
world has even known, and he happens to be my  brother.

I'm back looking out  the front window for Robby's pickup. He should be
here by now, that's if he left  when he said he would in the text. And there he
is now parking his pickup truck  at the curb down below. I'm smiling,
watching him get out of the truck.  Then I grin as he checks himself out in the
truck's side view mirror. Ha  ha, don't worry, you look awesome, Robby! I
open the door and start down  the steps to meet him. He has a little package in
his hand. A birthday present  for moi? He's looking up smiling, and his
beautiful smile doesn't take a  back seat to any I've ever seen. We meet at the
landing halfway up the  steps. I murmur, "Rob," and then we're in each
other's arms. We  hug, then do a sweet lover's ten-second kiss. Robby's too
classy to do a  French kiss 'hello' on these outdoor steps. We'd be on display
for the  neighborhood. He says, "Guess what, Dylan?" I go, "What?" and he
says, "Swear to  God, I missed you so much I couldn't eat or sleep right all
week." I go, "Me  too, Rob, and you look sexier than I remember." He laughs
out loud, mumbling,  "The things you say," and we start up the rest of the
steps with him  holding my hand. Chuckling, he tells me, "I've been practicing
looking  sexy for you all week." I go, "It's working too! And I think that
cool  blond, barely-visible sparse beard of yours is totally awesome." He
laughs out loud again, then goes, "You're the only person on earth who could
say  that as cutely as you just did, and thanks for the compliment." Outside
the  front door, on the stoop, we hug again and do a longer kiss. Thoughts
of  anyone but Robby leave my head in flash... zoom! Robby is 'home' for me,
and I know that's corny, but that's really how I feel. In his arms with our
lips  together, that's home no matter where we are.

We go inside where I  put my arms around his neck, murmuring, "All kidding
aside, Rob, I love you with  all my heart and I feel so fucking cheap when
I'm not faithful to you. There was  this nice kid in Wildwood..." but he puts
his hand on my mouth, "Shhh, baby, I  don't care about the nice kid in
Wildwood. I care about you, only you." Overly  emotional again, feeling unworthy,
I nod my head and drop a few tears.  Robby wipes them away with the pad of
his thumb, saying with a grin, "But I  am glad to see you have a guilty
conscience. Hope it haunts you for  a while." I hug him  tightly and we do a
really sexy kiss with tongues and lips, and it gives  me a really hard penis in
my shorts. We break the kiss by sliding our lips  across each other's cheek
and resting the sides of our faces together,  and breathing a few deep
breaths, never letting go of one another. We've  ended kisses like that hundreds
of times. Taking a last deep breath, Robby  runs his fingers up the hairs on
the back of my head, murmuring, "Finally some  hair on my boyfriend's
head." I murmur, "It looks like shit now, but in another  month or so..." He
interrupts again, "It's looks fine right  now."

After another tight  hug, he pulls his head back, looking me in the eyes,
"We'll be the Bobbsey Twins  again, right?" I grin and run my fingers through
his hair, which  isn't especially long. It's slightly longer then it was
when I gave him his  last haircut. Robby hasn't had a haircut from anyone but
me for over three years  now. No wait, back in freshman year Ryan tried
cutting Robby's hair once or  twice, but that's the only exception. Currently
Robby's hair is preppy looking  with a part on the left side. I'd like to do
something more stylish  for him, but don't know what it would be. When we
were younger all kinds of  hair styles were in play, and we've had a lot of
them, but we're older and that  eliminates some of the earlier possibilities.

We kiss again, then I say, "How  about a beer, Rob?" He goes, "Sure. How's it
feel being twenty-one?" I shrug,  jokingly saying, "Obviously I'm much more
mature now, and I think I'm  taller too, but that's about it." He says,
"You're obviously taller, but that  maturity thing. Are you sure about that?" I
laugh, "Not hardly. That's your  department."

We're  happily looking at each other for a second, then Robby goes, "Happy
Birthday, Dylan," and hands me the small package he'd put in his pocket
when we  started hugging each other. I go, "Oooh, thanks, Rob," and he says,
"It's not  much, but I wanted to get you something for your birthday." It's a
ring size box  and when I open it I find a cool looking stainless steel ring
with  engravings. On the outside, 'Dylan and Rob'. On the inside it says,
'You're  the one true love of my life'. I look up at him and Robby says,
"It's  called a commitment ring. I got it on line, guessing at the ring size.

And  it's not meant as a commitment by you, Dylan, not at all. It's  my
commitment to you. You're the only one in the world I'll ever love, the  only one
I'll ever be in love with. Just you." Damn, there go my eyes  again as I hug
him around the neck, the sides of our faces together  again, murmuring, "I
love the ring and the commitment." Huh, my  second cry so early in our
reunion. It's not actually crying though. Tears  come to my eyes, but that's
about it, and anyway I've admitted fifty times  that I'm too fucking emotional.

We hug and kiss for a minute, then Robby  smiles, murmuring, "I like wiping
your tears away, babe, but only when  they're good tears. I never want to
see sad tears from you and I'll try my best  to see you never have any." I
stand still as he wipes the few tears that leaked  out, then to be silly, I
ask, "Aren't you going to get me to blow my nose  too?" He chuckles, "Um, no,
you can blow your own nose." I can't help the quick  memory of Ryan wiping
away my tears of rage after a too-hard spanking during  sub/dom sex, then
holding his handkerchief to my nose, saying, 'Blow hard  for me." Jesus,
embarrassing memory!!
The ring only fits my  little finger, so I put it on next to the friendship
ring Robby gave me last  birthday, asking him, "Does this look too gay? Two
rings on one hand." He  laughs, "Not to me it doesn't," and I ask, "How
about that beer  now?" Robby goes, "Yeah, okay." What happened is I brought a
left-over six pack of Coors beer home from Wildwood. Now that I'm
twenty-one I'll need to pay back all my IOUs to Tris,  and keep beer in our condo's
refrigerator. Mom never bought beer for  herself and I never asked her to buy
it for me. I wouldn't make her break  the law even a little bit because
that would make her uncomfortable. As I'm  taking two Coors cans from the
refrigerator Robby gets his arms around me  from behind and kisses the side of my
neck, murmuring, "Maybe we can have those  beers later, babe. I need me
some Dylan Newman and I can't wait for it any  longer." I turn around in his
arms, face to face, asking, 'What about our  dinner reservation?" He kisses my
lips real fast, mumbling, " We're good, it's  not until nine o'clock.

That's the only reservation they had available." I go,  "Nine o'clock works for
me, boyfriend," and we walk hand in hand to my bedroom,  as I tell him, "I
got the hardest boner in my shorts when we did our  lover's kiss. Jeez, it was
so hard it ached." He goes, "Me too, Dylan," and  we chuckle, bumping our
sides together.

In my bedroom, taking  my shirt off, I ask, "Are we going to get maudlin
with our words of  love, Rob?" Robby say, "Yeah, but probably that'll be
later," and he  hugs me with our bare chests rubbing together so sexily I could
cream in my  shorts right now. Nobody's body thrills me or feels better to me
than Robby's.  It's so familiar and fits my body like a glove. My right nip
ring fits  perfectly over his left nipple, for example, and when I lift up
a  little his nipple pulls up making him grin, then we kiss with his arms
around my waist and mine around his neck hugging him for all I'm worth. Robby
 can sexually excite me by just being near me. It's  like I'd get hard
sometimes sitting next to him in class. I can smell his sexy  scent and glance
over at the side of his face, and get a boner; knowing he  loves me is icing
on my cake. It's a fine thing being in love...  a very fine thing.

My finger are in his  hair at the back of his head, his face against mine
as we kiss then rub our  noses together licking each other's lips and tongue.

I can't put into words  how good this feels. To be loved like Robby loves
me makes me feel very special  and increases my love for him. Willie is
handsome like a magazine model, but  Robby's more handsome in a natural, casual
way... and I know that only  makes sense to me. In my mind Robby's the best
looking combination  of handsome and boyishly cute ever. A picture of him
should be in  the Guinness Book of World Records as the cutest/handsomest young
 man in the world. My fingers are in his hair again, my lips and  tongue on
his, my bare hairless chest rubbing his and it all creates  a wildly hot
sexual arousal in me. It swarms over my brain like a  tsunami and makes my
hard cock throb and the lips of my asshole twitch with  anticipation. I'm
over-sexed to start with, but with Robby I sense a  swirling tornado of sexual
desire.

Gasping for breaths, I  murmur into his perfectly shaped ear, the left one
with the duplicate of my  little hoop earring in the earlobe, "Rob, let me
suck your cock, please." He  rubs his hands over my back, gasping with desire
himself, then he holds my  face between his hands kissing me here and there
before stepping back and  dropping his shorts to the floor. I drop to my
knees pulling his underpants  down and guide his already hard cock to my
mouth. I'm almost trembling  with sexual desire, and the desire to please and
pleasure him  is equally strong. I lick, then suck his cock into my mouth and
tongue  all around the head. Robby's breathing noisily rubbing my shoulders
and gently  humping his hips. Using my thumb and forefinger I stroke his
boner while sucking  on the head, my other hand fumbling my own hard cock out
through the fly of  my shorts, cursing myself for not dropping my shorts when
Robby  did.

Robby's erect penis,  with its engorged head,  has grown to about four and
a half inches long, and it's a fat boy too.  When I take his whole boner in
my mouth the head reaches past the gag  reflex area of my throat. With my
own boner in my fist, I push my  face forward until my nose is squished
against his nice smelling belly  as the head of his cock goes into my throat.

Bobbing on it I feel my  own orgasm come roaring on me, so I bob faster with
images of his  cock getting extremely stimulated as it's popping in and out of
my throat.  It's only about forty-five seconds before Robby gets both hands
behind my head  holding my face flat against him as he humps his hips,
fucking my throat. I'd  squeal out loud if I could when my hips hump and cum
comes gushing from my  boner that's now sticking straight out from my body. Cum
pumping  out in a long stream, followed by three fast moving squirts. I'm
about  ready to faint from lack of oxygen when Robby groans and unloads his
spunk  down my throat, then he does three last humps against my face, then
while noisily breathing and moaning at the aftereffects of his climax,  he
steps back pulling his sloppy cock from my throat and mouth leaving  a trail of
spunk on my tongue. "Oooh, fuuuuuck," from Robby as  he sits on the edge
of my bed stroking his slippery cock. I fall back, laying on the floor with
my  knees in the air breathing deeply and shuddering one last time as  orgasm
sensations buzz around my groin before doing their disappearing act.  I
spunked before Robby, and I was doing the blow job. Sucking cock  can really
get me hot.

Heavy breathing, then  Robby mumbles, "That was gonna inevitably be a
too-fast orgasm, babe,  but now that we've gotten the sixty second climax out of
our systems we can  have long lover's sex after dinner." I'm nodding my
head, still a  little dizzy from holding my breath that long. For almost
everyone, a minute is  a long time to go without oxygen. Thirty to forty seconds is
the normal  amount of time the average person can hold their breath, and
that's even a  stretch for some. Sitting up with my arms behind, supporting
me, I say, "Yeah,  you make me crazy with desire, Rob. It's kind of
embarrassing to almost cum in  my pants making out with you. I feel like some horny
fourteen-year-old, but you're  simply too sexy hot." He chuckles, "Yeah?
Well, Dylan, you can multiply  your arousal by at least a factor of two to match
how aroused you make me.  Last week, and this is something I wouldn't tell
anyone else in the world, but  thinking about you this past week I
jerked-off like the  horny fourteen-year-old you mentioned. Jerked myself off more
times than I care to admit. You can't leave me alone anymore, babe, and
that's all there is to it." I smile, "That's so sweet, Robby. So, does this mean
 you're coming to Wildwood with me next year?" He stands up, saying, "Yep!
No  more 'this nice kid in Wildwood' for you I'm afraid." Shrugging, I go,
"I  just wanted to be honest with you."

Robby holds his hands  down for me to take, pulling myself up. We walk in
the bathroom as Robby says,  "I think I'd rather you weren't so honest,
Dylan. Let me fantasize  that you're almost done with side-sex, you know, until
you actually  are." I mutter, "You're the boss, Rob, and I'll do as you say."

He chuckles,  "The boss, ha ha." We use a washcloth wiping our limp dicks,
then I clean the  cum off the throw rug 'cause neatness counts. As I'm doing
that I wonder about  Robby telling me he jerked off thinking about me. Am I
to take from that  the inference he didn't even one time get together with
his past  side-sex buddies in Framingham? I know they exist because I've
actually met  a couple of them. Surprising myself, I chose to believe Robby was
 sexually abstinence last week, and ain't that something! He sure climaxed
fast a few minutes ago, but then so did I and I wasn't especially  sexually
abstinence last week. As sexual a person as Robby is, and it's a  toss up
who's more sexual him or me, could he actually go a week without  sex? I
mean, considering how often we've been having sex together could he  just stop
cold-turkey for a week? I suppose a person with Herculean  willpower could
barely make it through eight days without sex, but it's hard  to imagine doing
that myself. In that regard, I'm following his rule about  not discussing
any extra curricular sexual activities until I'm  totally done with buddy
side-sex. That could happen any day now... or  not.

When we've put  ourselves back together we go down the steps grinning and
making fun of  each other for climaxing in less than a minute. "Amateurs,
that's what we  are, Rob, a couple of sexual amateurs." He goes, "I prefer  the
comparison to the fourteen-year-old you referenced earlier." At the pickup,
I  say, "Wouldn't that be cool? Being fourteen again and knowing what we
know now."  He says, "Yeah, then you and me would be searching through the
halls  of middle school looking for each other." Getting into Robby's pickup
truck, I go, "Yeah, and when we found each other we'd be horny as hell,
heading  for the nearest toilet stall." Robby goes, "Probably creaming in our
jeans with  anticipation before we got there." We're laughing about  that
ridiculousness. I feel so happy being with Robby again. It's so  comfortable
being with him, and I love him so much I need to lean over and  kiss his cheek.

He smiles at me, "I missed how you love me, Dylan. It's so  special to me.

Seriously, I was moody all week. You can ask Seth on Monday if  you don't
believe me." Oh, that's right...  another two weeks of work  before heading
back to college.

During the drive to  Dino's Italian Cuisine restaurant I argue that we
should split the  dinner check and Robby reluctantly agrees. He used to be a lot
cheaper,  money-wise, than he's been lately. Then my super conscientious
boyfriend insists  I verify I've taken care of all my paperwork and student
loans, books and  everything else for junior year. I assure him I did, telling
him Chubby and I  were just talking about that, and it's all good. He goes,
"Tomorrow you and  I need to drive to North Andover and sign papers for the
apartment this year.  Jeff's going in with us again, right?" I say, "I'm
almost positive he is, but  I'll get a definite answer at brunch tomorrow
morning." Jeez, now I  remember Chubby mentioned some time ago he's thinking he
might save  some money by sharing a dorm room with John Beverly this year.

He's  curious what the college experience is like living on campus. He
hasn't mentioned it since then, but he's going out with John Beverly and some
guys tonight so maybe that's when they'll make a decision about  housing. Huh,
obviously I hope he shares the apartment with us  again this year.

Robby notices I'm  being quiet, and asks, "Anything wrong, Dylan?" and I
go, "Not really. I  just remembered Chub said something about him maybe trying
dorm life this  year to see what living on campus is like. That's not at
all definite  though." Robby's surprised, "Really?" I nod, "Yeah, but you're
coming to  brunch tomorrow morning I hope." He goes, "Sure, thanks for
inviting me,"  and I go, "We'll talk with Chubby then," then add as an after
thought, "You have a standing invitation for brunch every Sunday. I  already
told you that about ten times." He looks at me, "And you have  a standing
invitation for Saturday night dinners at my house. Don't forget  that." Oh balls!
I was hoping he'd forget that. He glances over  again, asking a tad
sternly, "Right, Dylan?" Ooou, I got a shiver  of submissiveness for a split second
there. Damn, I love when Robby  puts a touch of authority in his voice.

Grinning to myself, I  humbly mumble, "Yes, Rob." Heh heh, love to act
submissive to Robby,  although he usually doesn't get it.

He parks at the curb  two blocks away from the restaurant because their
small parking lot is  always full. We get out and Robby wraps his arms around
me for a hug, then takes  my hand and we walk two blocks back to the
restaurant. There are stores on both  sides of the street since we're in a part of
downtown Framingham.  People are walking on the sidewalk, but no one comments
about us holding  hands. No one comments about the young man and woman
holding hands either.  I have mixed emotions about holding hands in certain
situations. First  off I love holding hands with a guy, don't get  me wrong,
it's very sexy; but, at times it seems maybe too much of  a in your face kind
of thing. I have trouble deciding when those 'times' are though. And  anyway,
I usually let Robby decide and just go with that. Right here in downtown
Framingham though, if I was deciding, I'd probably not hold hands feeling we
were flaunting our gayness unnecessarily. It's a tough call though.

Certainly there'd be no decision to make at all if it was,  say twenty years ago.

We probably wouldn't think of doing it  then! Fortunately times change,
sometimes they even change for the  better.

Inside the restaurant  it's, of course, busy on a Saturday night so we wait
for the two groups in front  of us to be seated. When it's our turn they
have Robby's reservation and the  table's ready for us, so good for them. It
doesn't always happen like that  unfortunately. We're at a table for two
against the wall, with menus provided by  the greeter. The table has a low
candle burning, the restaurant's lights are low  with music playing in the
background, and there's just the right amount of  conversations all around us
melding together. In other  words, a cool atmosphere. I hate when it's so quiet
you don't  feel comfortable talking. And Dino's isn't the red and white
checkered  tablecloth type Italian restaurant, and the candle isn't in a wine
bottle with  string around it. This is the white linen tablecloth with  shiny
silverware type Italian restaurant. It's kind of ritzy  in an un-ritzy town.

Ritzy as far as I'm concerned anyway, although it  would not be ritzy in
Willie's world. Just right for Robby and me  though.

Our  favorite waiter, um, server, Tony, comes over with his little head bow
and  his sexy little smirk, as he politely says, "Ahh, I haven't seen just
the  two of you in here for quite some time. Nice to serve you again. Could
I get you something to drink before dinner?" I look at Robby, who shrugs,
"What  do you feel like, "Dylan?" I say, "Hmmm, how about," and I almost say
strawberry daiquiri, but I catch myself, and instead say, "A whiskey
sour." Robby goes, "Make that two," and Tony goes, "Can we do the  ID charade
now, guys?" meaning we show him something from our wallets, like  he's carding
us. Straight faced, I hand him my license and he glances at it,  then looks
again and smiles, "Belated happy birthday, Dylan Newman." I just grin  at
him taking my license back. That rocked!  Robby hands Tony  his license and
Tony hands it back, saying, "An early happy birthday to you  too, Robert. Two
whiskey sours coming up." I go, "Um, Tony, before you  go, would it seem
pretentious of me to ask for the wine list?" He  grins, "Not at all," and walks
away looking too cool for school. Waiters can be  very cool, or very
grumpy. I've had both. Tony, in his semi-tuxedo uniform,  makes it seem like being
a waiter is a cool profession. A chef  seems like a cool profession too;
from what I've seen on television  anyway.

Waiting for our drinks,  Robby says, "I hope your brother joins us in the
apartment again this year, but  if he doesn't we'll only need a one bedroom
apartment. Maybe we should look  at those new apartments a couple of miles
down route 114." I say, "I went  on line to check on those apartments and
they're more expensive, plus it's more  like six miles from campus. At Royal
Crest we can easily walk to the  campus if we need to." He shrugs as our drinks
arrive. Tony says,  "Your wine list,  signore," and he lays the faux
leather bound wine list next to me. I  go, "Grazie," and he grins, mumbling, "You
are such a hot shit," then,  "I'll be back to take your orders in a couple
of minutes." Robby looks at Tony  as he walks away, then at me, "I think he
has the hots for you, Dylan." I'm like  shocked, "Really? Are you kidding?"

He goes, "The way he looks at you, always  grinning or smirking." I say, "He
doesn't have the hots for me. He's being a  waiter, buttering up the diners
for tips. Anyway he's not gay!" Robby mutters,  "If you say so," then he
holds up his drink and I clink it with mine as he goes,  "To my hot boyfriend's
twenty-first birthday," and we sip the whiskey sour,  then both make a
face, as I mutter, "Tart."

Robby says, "Okay, so  you don't want to try the new apartments." I shrug,
"If you want to, we'll check  them out. You're in charge you know." He
slowly shakes his head, but  doesn't respond to that. Holding my hand up, the one
with  Robby's commitment ring on my little finger, I go, "I love this
ring, Rob, and I'm getting you one for your birthday. My commitment to  you." He
smiles, looking concerned, "No, that's not necessary, babe. You, um,  well
you really don't need to do that." I think he's inferring I can't make  a
commitment like he did, so I think my feelings are hurt. Being a wise  ass, I
say, "Alright then, how about I buy you a rain hat for your  birthday?" We
both laugh, then I roll the ring around my finger, murmuring,  "Anyway, I
love my ring, thank you again, Rob." He says, "You're welcome, and  I've been
meaning to ask you something: um, when exactly did you start  calling me
'Rob' instead of 'Robby'?" I shrug, "I don't know exactly. Sometimes  I call you
'Robby'." He says, "Not too often though, but I like 'Rob', that's  fine.

Just saying..." Drinking a mouthful of the whiskey sour, I go, "You're  so
together about everything, and I admire you so much, it's  like 'Rob' sounds
more mature obviously, and fits the way I see you. You're  my leader, dude.

You're damn lucky I don't start calling you, 'Mr. Rob." He  laughs, "The things
you say never cease to surprise me."

He says that, but he  knows there's some truth to what I said, and I know
there is too. A fifteen  or sixteen-year-old busboy interrupts us setting a
basket  of rolls on the table, saying nothing. He's cute because he's young,
but he has  a large nose, one that won't be getting any smaller the older he
gets. We check  the menu and finish our drinks before Tony returns for our
order. I ask,  "Do you want another drink, Rob?" and he says, "I'd like one,
but  let's not because I want  to be totally alert in bed with you
tonight." I'm excited, "Are you staying with  me tonight?" He goes, "No, I can't
stay over tonight, but I'll stay a  few hours. I can't wait for school to start
so we're living together again.  If Jeff doesn't share the apartment with
us it'll be like we're married, or  almost like it." He seems excited about
that and I am too, but maybe not quite  to the same degree as Robbie. Feeling
guilty I had that thought, I  reach over and squeeze his hand, staring at
him a second or two. He's so good  looking. I murmur, "I love you, Robby,"

then sense someone's next to me. It's  our waiter of course. He says, as if he
heard nothing, "Have you decided  what you'd like?" We have, and give him
our orders as my face burns a bright  red.

As Tony leaves,  Robby chuckles, "Tony heard you say you love me. He lifted
his eyebrows and  gave me a little grin when I gave him my order, and you
looked so cute  blushing like that. I almost came over there to give you a
hug." Frowning,  I mutter, "I blush too easily. Sometimes I feel like I've
never grown up at  all, ya know?" Robby says, "Well I know one thing, you don't
look a day older  than the first time I saw you, and fell in love with you
on the spot." He's  avoided the question of me growing up, but I have grown
up a lot if you ask me.  To Robby's comments, I say, "That's not true. The
part about me looking the  same, but I like the thought of you having a crush
on me. Just wish I knew about  it back then." He goes, "Oh fuck, I was so
shy I'd have peed my pants if you  said hello to me." I go, "You're not shy
now though, so I gotta hand it to you  for getting over that." He tells me he
consciously worked at getting over it  and then started in earnest when we
became boyfriends and I kept  asking him to be more assertively in-charge.

Jesus, that goes back three  years now and Robby being in-charge wasn't even
noticeable  until freshman year, although he kinda messed that up a little
too. The  point is he's trying and doing better and better with his
confidence until  now I think he's almost perfect with it. As I've thought to myself
any  number of times, Robby's position as the boss at work has done wonders
for  his confidence.

We enjoy a very good  Italian meal with homemade pasta and delicious tomato
sauce, or  as they call it, gravy. We had veal parmesan with the pasta and
a salad with  Italian dressing. Honoring Robby's wishes not to get too
smashed at  dinner I only ordered us a glass each of the most expensive Chianti
Classico on the wine list: $17 a glass. It tastes very much like a Chianti
Tris  brought with her to one of Chubby's and my Sunday dinners. The whole
bottle cost  her $12, but then we're obviously not wine connoisseurs. During
dinner Robby and  I talk about us, and college, and the study group Robby
want to start right  from the first week. We discuss if we should do the weight
lifting  program again which Robby's doesn't appear very big on, probably
because Ryan's in charge of that, although his name never comes up. Then we
talk  about: what if it is just Robby and me in an apartment this year, and t
he  extra cost. We both reject even considering a dormitory. We list things
we  need to bring to the apartment, and we both get kind of excited talking
 about living together again. Plus, Robby is soooo ready to take a break
from work, and I am too actually, which makes us chuckle because we're a
mere two years away from working year-round, and for the rest of our lives.  Ha
ha! That's not really all that funny actually.

I almost mention my  latest idea about going to barber college after
Merrimack, but don't. There's no  big universities around here and I'd want the
barbershop near one. Robby's  working for his father's company after
graduation and that's not going to  change, so marrying Robby means we'll be living
here. Which probably also means  no barbershop for me. Then Robby get very
excited talking about next spring's  huge project for their company, and the
fact his condo has already been  earmarked on the blueprints. It seemed so
far in the future when I first heard  him talking about the big project, and
now it's only eight or nine months  away from 'breaking ground': that's
Robby's term for the start of the  project.

We have coffee and  Italian cookies for dessert, then split the bill by
giving Tony both our  debit cards. We discuss leaving our customary twenty-five
percent tip for Tony,  with Robby saying, "I don't think we still need to
leave this much tip now  that you're twenty-one." I just stare at him a
couple of seconds, and he goes,  "Oh, alright, Mr. John D. Rockefeller, we'll do
it your way." On the way out, I  ask, "This will sound dumb, but are the
Rockefeller people billionaires, I mean  still?" Robby shrugs, "Who knows? I
forget how they got rich in the first  place." I go, "Yeah, I had that
question on a test in seventh grade and got  the answer right, but forgot what it
was before lunch." Robby mumbles, "Was  it steel, or maybe railroads?"

Driving back to my  place, I go, "We should have had one more drink; maybe
an after dinner drink. If  I'm not gonna get a buzz-on from the booze I'd
just as soon  drink a soda or iced tea, ya know?" Robby nods his head, "Yeah,
taste-wise I  couldn't agree more. I got a little buzz going for me though,
don't you?" I  shrug, "A little, I guess." After drinking to excess most of
last week, this was  like nothing. I get Robby to park around back at my
place and we go in  through the basement. Robby runs his fingers through his
hair, saying, "This  finished basement always makes me think of haircuts. Do
you think I need one?" I  go, "Nah, maybe a week from now. Ya know, I was
thinking you need a new,  more, um, stylish haircut, but I don't know what
exactly." He goes, "No, I like  this style. My dad likes it on me too; he says
it's professional looking  and he's hard to please." I shrug, disagreeing but
keep it to myself and we  go up the steps with Robby saying, "Hey, we never
had that beer from  earlier, and you want another drink, so how about we
have a beer with  a cigarette on the balcony?" I go, "Awesome!" and that's
what we  do.

On the balcony we stand  at the railing with Robby's arm around my waist.

He says, "Everything seems fun  when I do it with you, Dylan. Just drinking a
beer on the balcony with you  seems cool." I say, "You're the one who makes
everything shine, Rob. I  don't shine if you don't shine." He goes, "That's
from a 'Killers' song,"  and I'm like, "So what, it's true with you." He
laughs, then kisses the side of  my face, murmuring, "Don't ever change,
Dylan, seriously! You're perfect just  like you are." Fuck, my eyes try doing
their leaking routine again, but I  swallow hard and stop it. Hot shit! I found
out how to control that. I tell  Robby, "I choke-up when you say things
like that to me." He looks at me, "Truth  is I can't articulate the depths of
my love for you. If I could you'd probably  run away so fast your heels would
be hitting your ass. You'd think me crazy or  retarded." Avoiding a stretch
of maudlin compliments, I go, "I'm telling  the political correctness
police you used the 'R' word. You'll probably get  a few weeks of sensitivity
training for that." He chuckles, "I know I make you a  little uncomfortable
when I talk about how much I love you, but I only do it so  you'll have a
massive guilty conscience if you ever dump me. I want you to  suffer with guilt
knowing my broken heart will never fucking heal." I say, "It's  cool when you
get dramatic, Rob, but I'm gonna have to call a bullshit alert on  you. You
know very well I don't have a conscience." He laughs hugging me around  the
back of my neck, mumbling, "I know, but yet I still love you." We're mostly
 joking around, but parts of it we really mean.

Sitting on the chaise  lounge now, having a smoke and finishing our beers,
I ask, "How come you  haven't asked me about my week in Wildwood?" He goes,
"Because you'd tell me if  I asked you, and I don't want to hear about it.

How much did I ask you  about Georgia?" I go, "Next to zero," and I smell the
back of my wrist trying to  decide if there's an innuendo of some sort in
Robby's reply. You know, like he's  implying I've been fucking every guy who
walks by and he's afraid I'd tell him  about it. Of all the nerve; I mean
the part about me telling him about it, I'd  never do that. Why would I? In a
weak moment when first seeing him  earlier I started to generalize about
Charlie, but Robby cut me off, which  was the right thing to do. That I even
started to say a little about  it might have had something to do with Willie's
visit just before Robby got  here. My reaction to Willie was unexpected.

Maybe because he was so  unexpected.

Robby asks, "What are  you thinking about, babe?" I snuggle against him,
"Nothing important. Can we  maybe get in bed now and see what happens?" He
goes, "Yeah, you read my mind  again." Getting up together I have an urge to
just hug Robby, so I do and he  hugs back, murmuring, "I feel the same way,
Dylan. I want to hug you against me  all the time," He's right, that's what
I'd like to do, hug him for twenty-four  hours straight. We do a sweet kiss,
then grin at each other before walking  inside, then right down the short
hall to my bedroom. We undress in silence and  when naked hug again with our
hands rubbing each other's back and ass. His hands  feel so good on me and he
smells sexy, like he always does. He gives me a  kiss on my mouth that I
respond to and we're soon sprouting boners again. Robby,  with his arm around
the back of my neck finally leads me to my bed. Taking  his arm away, he
says, "Turn out the light and I'll pull the cover down," and  after we do that
we lay on the bed in the dark with moon beams making shadows  and giving us
enough light to make each other out. Smiling at him, I climb on  top of his
body, grinning now and humping gently against his crotch, our boners  sliding
together.

Laying on Robby,  rubbing noses with him, I say, "Your pubes grew back,"

and he goes, "Yeah,  the baseball team's fall practice starts a month from
now. Can't  have shaved pubes for that, but I'm glad you can," and he gets his
hand between  us rubbing his fingers all around my groin, murmuring, "Nice
and smooth." I kiss  his lips, quietly saying, "Just for you, Rob. I do it
all for you." He gets  his arms around the back of my neck again and we do a
long kiss. My body  feels so loose, it's the same as I thought earlier, Robby
and I fit  perfectly together. We don't say anything as we make-out gently;
the only  sounds in the room are the subtle wet mouths sounds of sucking
lips  and tongues licking. Oh man, it's so deliciously sexy sharing our mouths
until  we're not even sure who's tongue belongs to who. It gets both of us
squirming  against one another with little moans of sexual desire joining
those  subtle sounds of us kissing, sucking, and licking each other's mouth.

It's  gets to a point where we're licking around our mouths, so aroused sex
has to  happen.

Robby's moving under  me, one of my knees on either side of him. He spreads
his legs  while reaching down to push the head of his boner against my
asshole. I'm  gasping at the precum coming from my cock feeling like tiny
orgasms. Getting up  on my knees and leaning back, the head of Robby's hard cock
stabs in past  my sphincter and we both moan, "Ooooh, ummm." I sit back on it
some  more and it tightly slides inside me an inch or so with sensations
from nerve endings on the lips of my anus and my prostate gland sizzling
awesomely as I try tightening an already stretched anus. I go, "Oh, Robby, your
 cock feels good inside me," then drop my ass the rest of the way, sitting
on his  spread thighs. Oh fuck that feels better than good! Robby reaches up
and  gets my arm, pulling me back down onto his chest as he lifts his hips.

With  me in this position, when he humps his hips only about two inches of
his boner thrusts inside my ass, but it's right on my prostate gland and
the angle of his boner has my anus really stretched down. I go, "Oooh, God,"

and  Robby starts a steady thrusting of the top two inches of his fat boner
stimulating nerve endings around my asshole and sliding over my super
sensitive prostate. There's subtle sounds of his crotch hitting my  buttocks,
but he can't slap into me hard enough to cause the normal sounds of  males
fucking up the ass.

This is a hot way to  fuck though because our faces are together and he has
his arms wrapped  around me and we're chest to chest, so lots of sexy
bodily contact. Robby makes  a gasping grunt with every thrust of his humping
hips causing a steady  bombardment of sexy sensations sizzling from my rectum;
they're constant and  have me doing my quiet moans of sexual pleasure while
rubbing my face against  Robby's. We last longer than the minute we lasted
earlier, but  not as long as either of us would have liked; not by a long
shot. It's not  even three minutes of deep, almost hypnotizing sexual pleasure
and I'm  already making whining sounds leading up to my squeal at climax.

Robby's  now recklessly hammering his cock in my ass and I feel his body
tighten up as  mine's doing the same, and with my eyes squeezed shut I hump my
hips squealing  at the stream of cum pouring out the head of my stone-hard
boner. Robby shoots a  long string of cum up my ass, but we're both jerking
around so much with my  next shot of cum Robby's cock slips out of my slippery
ass and he shoots too  squirts of cum on my right butt cheek. We're still
rocking around on each other  groaning and gasping with me reaching between us
to stroke my cock, then squeeze  it getting drool of cum on my fist.

There's perspiration  between our bodes as Robby slides me off his body so
he can stroke his cock a  few times, then we sigh as I go up on my side to
lay half on Robby and run my  fingers through his hair, quietly telling him,
"Robby, nobody gives me pleasure  like you do. No one, I swear to God." I
hug his head and kiss his sweaty  forehead, "That felt so fucking good,
Robby." He's still taking deep breaths  because he expended a lot of energy with
that sex. It's like he was almost  doing a sit-up with ever hump of his hips...

stomach crunches. After one last  deep breath he's rubbing the palm of his
hand down the side of my face,  murmuring, "I pray you really mean that,
Dylan. It would make me feel so good if  I was giving you the best sexual
pleasure ever." I snuggle in tighter with him,  "You do, Robby, and I'm going to
worship your body to show you how much I love  you." He nods his head and
grins a little, "That sounds nice, baby, but  let's rest a while  first. Pull
the covers up, would ya?"

I reach down and pull  the covers up, liking that he didn't think twice
about telling me to do  that. That's the kind of thing I mean when I say he's
got the in-charge thing  pretty much down pat. We snuggle together with Robby
chuckling, "You shot a  nice load of cum on me, a streak of creamy cum from
my stomach to my neck." I  go, "Oh, so that what's wet under me, huh?" He
laughs quietly, asking, 'What'd you think  it was?" I go, "I guess I could
have peed myself, and you should talk. Your  creamy load is drooling out of my
ass as we speak, and you splattered your  second shot on my ass cheek." He
murmurs, "Yeah, I know, it was two shots  actually. If I had a longer penis
it would have stayed up your ass." I say,  "Your penis and my ass are
perfect partners. You've got all the penis my ass  requires, and I'm serious about
that too. Sex with you is the best I've ever  had, every time." He smiles
and rubs my head, muttering, "Okay, I'll pretend I  believe you."

We lay together  quietly, gently running our fingers over each other and
leaning in for a  kiss once in a while.  Laying with him like this is more
pleasant than anything I can think of. Knowing  how much he loves me, and
loving him back, it's like I wish there were something  even more intimate than
sex that we could do together. Robby's eyes are closed  and when I hear his
even breathing I assume he's dozed off. I know he was up  early for work
today. His father works the hell out of Robby.  Seizing the opportunity, and
with the help from the moonlight, I study  Robby's amazing face, lazily running
my fingers through his hair thinking  my hair will be this long in six or
seven weeks. One of my legs is between his  and I rest the side of my face on
his shoulder now, half my chest on his. I  think about us being married
with Robby as my man, but not in a silly way.  I know without a doubt I'll
always be able to count on him, and that he'll  be conscientious about
everything that's important, and he'll love me like crazy  and we'll have lots of
sex. Mostly I know we'll be happy and contented  laughing and loving our way
through life together while handling things  that need handling. That's what I
mean about Robby being my man. I'll me his man  too, it'll be like that.

I doze off too and  wake up when Robby tries turning over with me half on
top him. I go, "Rob,  are you awake?" He stretches his arms out like you do
when you first wake  up, with him asking, "What time is it, babe?" I check my
watch, "It's only  one-thirty," and I see him grin and put his hands behind
his head, saying,  "Didn't you say something earlier about worshipping my
body to show me how  much you love me?" I nod, "Uh huh, I love doing it too.

I could eat you with a  spoon. You're my man!" He nods, "Yeah, I like being
your man." Up on my knees  I push the covers back, then straddle him, a knee
on either side, sitting  on his belly. Dropping down onto my forearms, I
suck on his nipples, one at  a time. I don't know why, but it's always
pleasantly surprising, for just an  instant, closely inhaling Robby's scent. I
shouldn't be surprised because  it's always the same and it's as familiar to me
as the back of my hand, but  for just that first millisecond the scent of
his skin is like, wow! When his  nipples are standing up hard, and he's sort
of shimmying his shoulders at the  sensations from his sensitive nipples, I
begin doing little licks between  his pecs and down the middle of his
stomach. Robby not only smells good, he  tastes good  too.

After filling his innie  belly button with warm saliva I lick down his
belly into his pubic hairs and  then the top of his fat cock, stopping to give
him a 'look' as I pull a  pubic hair off my tongue. He shrugs and grins back
at me, and I have to grin too  while putting my finger to my lips, like
"Shh". I'm feeling a minor  submissive trance going talking would evaporate it...

poof! Picking up his  dick I lick the head like an ice cream cone and
getting an initial acrid taste  of shit from being up my ass an hour or so ago,
but it quickly fades. Each lick  starts at the neck under the head of his
cock, then over the head past his  piss slit, and down to the foreskin on the
other side. Every lick  is slower than the  one before it, and it's got Robby
moving his ass on the bed, and then with a  grunt his knees come up. The
head of his cock goes in my mouth while I  stroke the short shaft inching it
slowly into my mouth as well. When it's a  fat hard boner I take it out and
push it up against his belly and lick his  scrotum moving his balls around,
then when licking under his nuts as a  drool of precum bubbles at the pee slit
and I lick  it off.

Robby's already got his  knees up so I put a hand on each one pushing them
back towards Robby which  lifts his ass up off the mattress. Taking my time,
I lick across his  clean asshole. He told me once how he cleans his
asshole. First with  toilet paper obviously, and then with disinfected Cottonelle
Handi  Wipes when at home or in our college apartment,  and he's pushes the
wipe inside a little too. Clean boy, my boyfriend. He  does it for me even
though he doesn't always clean his cock after fucking me  with it. Tonight,
for example, we cuddled and then fell asleep after our sex. He  never had a
chance to clean it the way we did after the earlier oral sex. So, ya  know,
nothing's perfect. I wouldn't even consider rimming another guy's ass  the
first few years of being sexually active, but once I did it the  submissiveness
of the act appealed to me and it's one of my favorite things to  do now.

Especially for Robby. And, yeah, he likes it quite a bit too, although I
can't think of a time when he's returned the favor.

Licking across his  asshole eight or nine times, leaving it saturated with
saliva and quivering, I  kiss his butt cheeks to show him I'm perfectly
willing to kiss his ass, and then  back to his anus, aka, his asshole. More
quick licks before getting the tip of  my tongue inside his hole and I'm able to
push it in a little.  Robby lifts his butt off the bed, "Nah, no, Dylan,
come up here now." One final  tongue stab up his asshole and he gasps and
moves his ass away from my  head. See, he was afraid of climaxing. That would
have been another too  quick orgasm, but I slide up the mattress to get on my
side with my back to him.  Robby goes up on his side and his hard cock head
is at my asshole  immediately. He humps it right inside as I gasp with
pleasure along with a  twinge of pain. His arm comes over my side to hold me in
place, then he humps  hard pushing his cock all the way in and begins hard
thrusting right away. The  familiar, 'Slap, slap, slap," sounds of his crotch
slamming my buttocks startup  right away, echoing off the walls. The bedroom
door's closed, but Mom's not  home this early on a Saturday night anyway.

If she was home she'd need to be  right outside my bedroom to hear Robby's
body slapping off my ass cheeks, and  she'd never be right outside my bedroom
in the first place. It's at the end of  the hall with my bathroom and her's
in between our bedrooms.

"Slap, slap, slap," as  sensations grow and my prostate's sizzling like
earlier, only this time Robby's  got his full four and a half inches expanding
my rectum walls and it feels  so good I'm sucking on my lips moaning, "Mmm,"

with each thrust.  I sprung  a boner a minute after Robby's cock was in my
mouth, and then it got  brittle-hard and throbbing sexily as I was rimming
his ass. Now it's  throbbing in a way indicating on-coming climax as my nuts
are churning  cum getting ready to blow. Our bodies are both squirming and
moving, slippery  with perspiration and overwhelmed with the sensations of
our building  orgasms. He makes kind of a desperate squeak as he gets tight
against  my buttocks humping against them frantically, then a wheezy long
exhale and  I feel his load shoot wetly up inside me. Feeling his cum up my ass
always  make me climax, and with a short squeal, and all the muscles in my
body  clenched, out shoots a short string of cum that make me shake all over.

Small  cum shot maybe, but a powerful sensation, then an even shorter
streak  of cum getting my shoulders shuddering, one against the mattress and the
other  in the air bouncing off the front of Robby's shoulder.

Robby gasps again,  thrusting his cock in my slippery ass a few more times
then he flops  over on his back breathing hard. I lay forward onto my
stomach smearing my small  orgasm on my chest and the sheet. Robby's cum drools
out of my ass running  down to the back of my scrotum and pools there for now.

We both do our  heavy breathing, savoring our climaxes for a minute or so,
then I go up on  my side and elbow looking down at Robby. He goes, "Hi,
babe. Ya  know, I wanted to do a slow lover's fuck, but you got me too aroused
and I  fucked your ass in more of a wild recreational way than a slow lover's
 fuck." I grin, saying, "You're such a romantic, Rob, and I'm glad you're
finally attempting to get the names of our various sex acts straight,
although  you've misnamed this one. This particular sex act is called the L & OOC,
 or half and half fuck. It began as a lover's sex when I was  worshiping
your body, and then the other half turned into  an out-of-control, pleasure
yourself fuck. Did you pleasure yourself?" He  nods his head, smirking, "Yes,
I did, it was fabulous. Oh, how 'bout you?" I go,  "Never mind about me
'cause I'm only here to pleasure you." He goes,  "Well you're doing a very good
job of it."

I lay against him and  he puts his arm over my back, asking, "How'd you
like our first date after  your vacation?" I sigh,  "It was good. I mean a
three orgasm date is always a good thing, but I was  hoping to sleep with you
tonight and have what's called a A.M. fuck." Robby nods  his head, "Is that
the name for morning fuck?" I go, "Uh huh, you pick things up  quickly I see.

Add in a morning fuck and this would qualify as a four  orgasm date. See how
that works?" He goes, "It's a lot to remember, but I  believe a date
continues as long as we stay continuously in each  other's company, right?" I go,
"That was date lesson 101, I should hope you'd  remember that." He says,
"I'll take your pamphlet home with me and study it some  more, but for now can
you set an alarm for five o'clock? I'll stay until five."  I go, "Goodie,"
and set the alarm, then we use the bathroom to piss, wash up,  and share my
electric toothbrush. Back in bed Robby gets his arms around me and  we rustle
around a little getting snugly comfortable, then a mutual sigh of
contentment followed by a kiss, and we go to sleep. I love seeping with  him!



to be continued...    Donny Mumford   thinat20@yahoo.com



donnymumford@outlook.com



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



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

Donny  Mumford

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

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