Date: Tue, 27 Nov 2012 06:14:46 -0800 (PST) From: donny mumford Subject: OLIVER'S ADVENTURED Chapter 26 (Confession) by Donny Mumford OLIVER'S ADVENTURES Chapter 26 (Confession) by Donny Mumford What a guilt ridden nightmare! All I need is another Aaron domination with vegetable oil. Probably I had the nightmare about Aaron because the day after promising to turn over a new left, I have awesome hot sex with Myers. Hmmm, he was sweetly dominant throughout it too; a young kid like that. He fucked me and manipulated me unbelievably from beginning to end. And how did his smelling, sweaty, cum stained jockstrap get on me in the first place? He had me in a daze from the minute I walked in his bedroom; seeing him naked, except for the jockstrap had me off balance from the start, and then magically I'm wearing the dam jockstrap. He's a magician. Well, I had an orgasm during the nightmare so I've added my own cum to the years and years of stains in this jockstrap, not that you'd be able to tell the difference. Myers says this jockstrap's never been washed, so I won't break the tradition; I'll return it to him over Christmas break in it's present soiled condition. Dragging my sorry ass out of the love seat and upstairs I go into my little bathroom wondering if anyone else in the world has ever experienced a more realistic nightmare than the one I had about Aaron. My mouth taste like a cat's litter box, and I'm a total mess. I must have fallen asleep within minutes of laying on the love seat because I can't even remember the start of 'Saturday Night Live'; you know, 'LIVE FROM NEW YORK, IT'S SATURDAY NIGHT'. The rum I drank is partially responsible for the nightmare I guess, but my conscience played the biggest part. Frankie's Harry Potter glasses on Aaron, and Aaron with a flattop haircut; get real! That would be funny if it weren't so scary. I'd grabbed a bottle of water on my way through the kitchen, and now in my bathroom taking a swallow I notice my hands are shaking; this really sucks! What a relief it is to finally get out of this wet jockstrap though, and then even better, brushing my teeth. After washing my face and shaky hands, I carefully stuff the jockstrap under the vegetable oil stained clothes from last night, deep in my satchel. It wouldn't do to have Mom ask, 'Who's cum stained jockstrap is this, Oliver?' No, that's not what I'm looking for. Deciding I need a quick shower and then putting on those childhood pajamas again; the ones I wore last night because I'm still feeling more like a little kid than the cool dude I thought I was when I got home a week ago. Sleeping through the night without further nightmare problems, in the morning I go to church with my parents, and then as a further self imposed punishment, I go to brunch with my folks and the neighborhood couple we went with last Sunday. There's no smirking or looking down my nose at anything by me; now I'm a nice, sarcasm-free Oliver. It's my best behavior in almost a year. I want to leave my parents with the feeling I'm a good kid; one who loves them and appreciates them for everything they've done for me all my life. After brunch I pack my stuff and get ready to return to college as a changed person. I liked myself better when I was the little mouse Oliver, peeking around corners afraid of my own shadow. Now, I'm ashamed of my slutty self; I'm need to be better than that and I was better than that until recently. I need the comfort of respecting myself again; ya gotta love yourself before anyone else can, and I don't love myself at the moment. Hell, I don't hardly know who I am anymore. Mom and dad give me a sweet send off saying how proud of me they are, which makes me feel deceitful, but confessing to them would just hurt them so I gotta stick to my plan and trust Joey to be my amazing grace. The drive back to Penn is uneventful and I find myself in a melancholy mood avoiding thoughts of the specifics of my debauchery. That's not to say I'm not introspective and frankly I'm pretty hard on myself during the drive. It's just that I don't dwell on the details, but I think about the Aaron dream and how that hammered home how fucked-up I am about sex. The past ten days were crammed full of sexual activity, and when I wasn't sexually active, I was dreaming about it. Not good! I've worried about being over-sexed on and off for the past six months and now the verdict is in: I'm over-sexed and extremely promiscuous, and I've got to do something about it before I'm lost. Before church this morning I'd gone on line and found a clinic that test individuals for the AIDS virus and all that kind of thing. The clinic is open Sundays and I can get there using the train system; driving around Philadelphia can be problematic. I'm going to the clinic this afternoon. I've got to see if I'm infected with anything, which I'm almost positive is not the case. Almost positive isn't good enough though; I need to be totally positive before I have sex with Joey. It's expensive, but I can get the results back in twenty-four hours by paying extra. I'll go to their wed site tomorrow and use the code they give me and it'll flash a 'P', or an 'N'; simple as that. I've already got an appointment at four o'clock and it's already paid for; I put the fee on the credit card Christian gave me. Of course he'll surely question me when he sees the bill and I'm going to try coming clean with him this time. Maybe he'll get me some professional help too if he thinks I need it. It's amazing how different my outlook is today driving onto the Penn campus, as compared to my outlook leaving the Penn campus ten days ago. Back then I was happy and excited, feeling like a cool hot-shit, looking forward to seeing all the guys in Delaware, then Frankie, and finally Myers. Well, I saw them all and then some, and it turned out very badly for me. The past ten days don't necessarily mean I'm a worthless sex addict; I don't think I am yet. It's the trend though, an accelerating trend of increased sexual activities; that's the alarming aspect of it to me. I'm beginning to spiral totally out of control and I need to establish self control and regain some semblance of self respect. Dropping my stuff off at the drom, I need to go directly to the clinic because the drive back took longer then I expected. The train ran on time and I run the four blocks to the clinic where they take me in right away. After filling out some confidential background information, they take some blood, and I"m out in fifteen minutes, again waiting for the elevated train. Another reason driving to the clinic would have been a bad idea is the parking difficulties, that's if I didn't get hopelessly lost in the first place; I often get lost in Philly. As I'm getting off the El at the stop closest to Penn university, I see a cool looking black dude getting on the car next to mine and I swear it's Ryjohn, the kid who showed me the way out of the projects when I got lost on my senior class trip so very long ago. Waving at him, but he disappears as I get the shivers thinking about him; ah, maybe it wasn't even him. Jeez, he was so sexy though. Walking to the university I'm thinking, 'Good, you got the test, so check off that from your to do list'. Joey will be back from his break tomorrow sometime, and I'm actually glad for the extra time between now and then because I'm going to clean our dorm room and bathroom real good to impress Joey. Then my plan for tomorrow morning, is hopefully to do Richard's and Phil's laundry. That's if he'll let me do it a day early; I'd rather do it Monday instead of Tuesday so there won't be any distractions Tuesday, my second day of my new beginning. Another thing on my 'to do' list is something I'm not going to do: don't go near the gymnast dorm or practice facility except for dropping off and picking up Joey. Randy Rider is a danger to me because I'm so attracted to his persona; and, what the hell, his looks too. He has that bossy way about him and he's so dominantly sexy hot; it's important not to put myself in temptation's way. At the dining hall I swipe my card and get a tray for the buffet line. Tonight there an old standby on the menu: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, salad and a roll. Large lemonade for my drink and vanilla cake for dessert. Good to know that even with all the problems I have my appetite hasn't been affected. As I'm walking toward an empty table, Bob Crane calls me over to eat with him and two other gymnast. We talk about the Thanksgiving break, how Joey's doing, football, and stuff like that. It beats eating alone and it's nice to be accepted by some of the gymnast. Back in the dorm I clean the place from the floor to the ceiling, getting sweaty in the process, but it feels good to be doing something worthwhile. When the place is as clean as it's ever been, I take a long shower and then sleep in Joey's bed thinking about nothing except coming clean with Joey. I'm determined to do it, but the thought of actually saying my transgressions out loud to Joey has me nervous and apprehensive. It a big chance I'm taking, but I trust my instincts; Joey will help me because he's structured, smart, disciplined and all good things I'm not, plus he says he loves me. That's a pretty good combination. Monday after breakfast I'm nervous and apprehensive about asking Phil for the favor of allowing me to do his laundry a day early, and that even sounds stupid to me, but it's the sad fact of the matter. I go upstairs to the third floor where the senior wrestler's dorm is. Standing outside Phil's room for a few seconds getting my nerve up, and then knocking and expecting to see that prick Phil, with his dull brown eyes and his pointy nose, I'm surprised when his roommate Richard answers. Richard's the one I got in trouble with in the first place. He's s real bad ass alright; Phil's scared of Richard and I'm scared of both of them. He says in a bored monotone, "Today is Monday, Oliver. Did your small freshman brain think today's Tuesday?" Richard has a way of talking down to me that makes me feel like such a little shit. He's an inch shorter than me too, but he's got an extra eighty pounds of muscle on me. His dark red hair is ugly, cut in a military, white side-wall style. Pig eyes and real white fish-belly flesh tone. Richard's not nice and cuddly to say the least. The word is he's never lost a wrestling match in high school or college. I mutter, "Oh, oh, ah would it be okay if I do the cleaning, I mean laundry, today?" Richard talks over his shoulder, "Phil, get over here and handle this." Phil replaces Richard at the door, asking, "What could you possibly want, nimrod? It's Monday in case ya don't know." One thing leads to another and I stutter my way to eventually begging my way into getting the okay to do their laundry today. Phil finishes by telling me he's doing me a favor and I'll need to do him one sometime. I guess doing his laundry every week doesn't count as a favor in Phil's mind. There's a lot of laundry from the ten day break. Extra clothes that apparently their mothers won't do for them so it takes me a couple hours by the time I wait for the wash cycles, then the dryer cycle, and then folding. I smoke cigarettes and drink kiwi-strawberry Snapple from the vending machine area while practicing what I'm going to say to Joey later this afternoon. After two trips up from the basement to the third floor with the clean folded laundry; then, with a sigh and a disbelieving shake of my head, I pull my pants down and lean over Phil's desk waiting for him to exam the laundry and give his approval. He's on his cell phone walking around the room talking and looking at my bare hairless ass. When our eyes meet he give a little nod of his head to me with an especially nasty smirk, like, 'Lucky for you, you remembered to do the bare ass thing'. It sounds like he's talking to a girl and he's making the biggest ass out of himself if he is; what a dork. My stomach's sore from leaning against the sharp edge of the desk as he talks on and on. After forever, Phil wanders over and casually smacks each of my buttocks twice very hard with his open hand and then, still talking on his cell, he pulls me by my collar helping me roughly get off his desktop. I stand there with a red face and two red buttocks, my cock and balls exposed. He stares at them, and then signals with his hand I can pull my pants up. He's got a stiff dick in his pant from gawking at my limp pecker and hanging nuts. When my jeans are up and I'm zipping the fly, he casually gets his free arm around my neck and pulls me against his muscular body with the side of his face against the side of mine, saying into the cell phone, "Ya know I'm hot for you," and somehow it seems like he's talking to me; he probably was, in his mind. Humping his boner into my rear end I hear the squeaky voice of the girl he's talking to from his cell phone, but can't make out what she's saying. Phil rubs the side of his face against mine turning his head so his nose and lips are on my cheek and I hear him inhaling nosily. He licks my cheek, nuzzles my ear, then pushes me away from him and kicks me in the ass. Turning to look at him, he's doing the 'shoo' motion with his hand indicated for me to leave, which I'm only too happy to do. Phil is a classic case of a latent homosexuality. He's the first one to call a freshman a fag, but he can't admit he's one himself. Ya know, it makes me wonder about wrestlers. What activity gives more body to body contact between two guys then wrestling. Wrestling is second only to fucking if you ask me. I'm walking out of their dorm room the same way I usually do, with both hands behind me rubbing my sore buttocks; this time because I was spanked and kicked in the ass. He really got me good today, but that's over with until a week from tomorrow. Okay, now I can concentrate exclusively on Joey and my other problem. It isn't twenty-four hours since I took the AIDS test, but I go on line anyway and click onto the clinic's website punching in my code. The screen shimmers delaying the results, or maybe a notice that the test isn't completed yet, but I'm not really worried one way or the other. I'd be shocked if a 'P' pops-up on the screen and a second later an 'N' appears with my code under it. Then a drop down notice informs me a hard copy of the results will arrive in the mail within five business days. I cross that important piece of business off my 'to do' list. Joey emailed me that he'd arrive sometime this afternoon, and it isn't quite noon yet so I walk over to the dining hall to get some soup and there's Randy Rider, apparently alone, waiting to swipe his meal card. I unconsciously rub my crotch thinking, 'Damn, he looks hot,' as I stare at his two-tone blond hair. Then I think of his two-tone, bright brown eyes. He's right up there on my best list of the cute guys I've ever seen. Damn! Thoughts of sucking his cock swirl around my brain along with thoughts of the time he sucked me off, that was awesome. Just thinking about running my fingers through his hair while he sucked me off is enough to get me hard! He hasn't seen me, so turning around I run back to the dorm thinking about something even hotter than the blow jobs we've given each other: it's the time Randy made me cum in my pants by vigorously finger fucking me during our ultra-hot make-out, always with those hickeys. Randy insists on giving me hickeys just about every time we messed around together sexually. His hickey fascination seemed to start that time I'd come back from Delaware with Alexander's huge hickey on my neck, Randy claiming he could give me a bigger one. I got kinda hooked on the hickey thing because it can be so sexily stimulating it just about hypnotizes me. Probably tied in with my submissiveness in gay sex. Then I think briefly about Joey asking me to give him a hickey that night he'd gotten jealous the time I'd been with Randy, and that's also the night Joey told me he's gay. Hmmm, maybe the sexiest time with Randy was just before Thanksgiving break when I visited him in his sick in bed. He had a bad case of flu and to come to think of it, that was the only time I can remember when he didn't look especially sexy. He'd pulled down my pants and had me jerk myself off into one of his sweat socks while he finger fucked me, and oh my God, the things he does to turn me on are irresistible to me. Then, of course, I had to suck him off and he hadn't been showering recently due to the flu, so that was memorable experience too, but in a different way. Too many sexy thoughts! Back in the dorm room I sit on the closed toilet seat and fight the desire to masturbate. Groping myself through my jeans, taking deep breaths, I slowly calm down. I'll wait here in the room for Joey 'cause it's safer. At least I didn't give in to my desires for further sex with Randy, so that's a small step I should be proud of, right? Smoking a Marlboro Light, sitting on the dormitory front step freezing my ass off, I'm waiting for Joey while wondering if it's fair of me to unload all my problems on him. "Hey, Dylan, so this is your dorm." I'm like, "Huh?" as I turn and see a freshman gymnast I've seen at practice, but don't know his name. He saunters up the sidewalk to where I'm sitting, and says, "Hi, I'm one of Joey's teammates, Evan Blair. I've seen you at practice and just wanted to say you're pretty special taking care of Joey Gallo like you do. That's must be a lot of work, dude." I go, "Hi, Evan, nice to meet ya, but you're giving me too much credit. I joined the assistance group for selfish reasons, I wanted my car on campus and as you know that's a no-no for us freshman." He says, "Whatever your reason, it's still damn nice of you. Do you mind if I sit with you awhile?" I go, "Not at all, I'm waiting for Joey to arrive; that's what I'm doing out here, and having a smoke too; we're not suppose to smoke in the dorm." He walks up and sits on the step next to me, a bit too close if you ask me. Evan asks, "Could I bum a cigarette off ya? I gave up smoking at the beginning of the semester, but I sneak one every now and then; hard habit to break, ya know." I go, "Yeah, that's what I hear, although I haven't tried quitting yet. I'm going to quit when I graduate, at least that's my plan." Holding out my pack of Marlboro Lights, Evan takes a cigarette, mumbling, "My brand too, cool." Giving him my cigarette, he lights his off of mine as I stare at him. All gymnast aren't cute, not by a long shot, but Evan is. As he's passing my cigarette back, we look into each other's eyes and I think, 'Uh oh,' because he stares back into my eyes too long; that's a sign I've picked up on; it means, 'gay alert'. I'm not sure if a disproportion percentages of gymnast are gay, but I think I read it's true. It's a good thing I'm turning over a new leaf because Evan has Frankie's bright red hair, dark blue eyes, and pale complexion. I break eye contact with one of my fake coughs, pretending to cough into the side of my fist. Evan says, "You're a friend of Randy Rider's, ain't ya?" I change the subject, "Hey, we're students at the University of Pennsylvania; we don't say ain't," and then I do a fake laugh to go with my fake cough, feeling myself blush. He goes, "You're right, let me rephrase the question. You're a friend of Randy Rider's, aren't you?" I hedge, "Well, I don't know if Randy would agree with that, but I know him. As co-captain of the team he took Joey and me to lunch when we first arrived on campus, as a sort of greeting for Joey." Evan says, "Oh yeah, Blake took me and Dickie Norman to lunch on our first day too. Um, how does Joey, you know, go to the bathroom without the use of his arms? I've always wondered about that?" Avoiding the question, I try chuckling while saying, "As far as I know, you don't need arms to go to the bathroom, heh heh." He smiles showing the cutest smile with dimples on both cheeks. Beautiful teeth too. His hair is cut really cute as well; it's the style where it's short all around and just long enough to lay down on top of his head with the short bangs flipped up in front. His hair is dry, without mousse or hair tonic, and I'd love to run my fingers through it like I used to do with Frankie. I haven't thought of Frankie too much lately because Aaron's been on my mind, and now Joey, but the old version of me would be all over Evan. Damn, it's so ironic that in high school I was an outcast without friends, and now boys want to be friends with me and maybe more than friends. I gotta watch myself. I mumble, "I know what you mean, Evan, but that topic is kinda embarrassing for Joey and me." He goes, "Oh, I apologize, sorry. Um, so you need to wipe his ass and direct his dick when he's pissing; is that it?" Taking a drag from my cigarette, I mutter, "Something like that," and Evan says, "Dude, don't be embarrassed, I think it's admiral of you, and if ya even need help with that I'm available, haha." He's leaning his head down to sort of look me in the eyes as I'm looking at the sidewalk. There's a grin on his cute mouth as I glance over at him, muttering, "He's gonna be able to handle that himself, ya know, now that he has his casts off." "Oh, he got his casts removed over the break, huh," Evan says, then adds, "Too bad." Not wanting to touch that comment, I wonder if gay gymnast are all as blatantly open about it as Randy, and now Evan, seem to be. Joey wasn't, but his situation is different being incapacitated until now. Moving on to a safer topic, I ask, "How ya doing in your freshman year, Evan?" He talks while smoke drifts from his mouth and nose, "It's harder then I expected, the workload I mean. Guess you're not finding it all that hard though." I frown, asking, "Why would you say that?" He shrugs, "Well, you being the valedictorian of the senior class, I assumed you're pretty freakin' smart, that's all." How the hell does he know I was valedictorian?" I ask him, "How'd ya know that?" Another shrug, "I forget, someone told me I guess. You had to give Joey baths too, huh?" Back on that subject. Slightly annoyed, I say, "Yes, I needed to do everything for him. Why so interested?" He mutters, "I don't know. Hey, did you know Donny Sinclair was gay? He's the gymnast who cuts our hair for free. He's an excellent hair stylist; never been to barber college either." I go, "I've seen Donny, but I didn't know he was gay." He says, "Yeah, Donny's gay; there are a few gay gymnast ya know, but that's nothing to be ashamed of. Gays are cool, don't ya think?" Like most gymnast, Evan's got a smallish, but tight awesome body to go along with his cute face, and Frankie's red hair. I do another fake cough, muttering, "Wonder where Joey is?" Evan takes the opportunity to pat my back when I do my fake cough, then he lightly squeezes the back of my neck, quietly saying, "I've wondered what it would be like to mess around with a gay boy. I'm curious, ya know? Did you ever try it? With another boy, I mean." I look at him, then say, "Of course I have, I'm gay myself, but I guess you already knew that." He shrugs again, mumbling, "Yeah, come to think of it, somebody mentioned that to me. Hmm, can't remember who though," as his hand lightly ruffles my hair at the back of my head. Then he says, "Bet you don't have any trouble hooking up with other gay boys, do ya? Being you're like the cutest guy on campus." His hand feels nice playing with my hair, his fingers lightly scratching my scalp. With chills running down my back I can't resist reaching over and ruffling his hair, it feels just like Frankie's silky soft hair. Trying to joke as I run my fingers through his hair, I'm chuckling, saying, "You got a thing for my hair, Evan? You have hair just like a summer boyfriend of mine had." He goes, "It's not just your hair, Oliver, I got a thing for you, period. Ya wanna mess around sometime?" He's grinning that sweet grin of his, looking good enough to eat. I go, "Yeah, I would, but I won't." He asks, "Why not; you in a committed relationship or something? It's not with Randy, I know that much because that boy's gone back with his boyfriend." I say, "No, it's not Randy, but someone I'd rather not mention." He squeezes my neck saying, "You've got the smoothest skin; it's great to touch. Um, do you prefer the bottom or the top during sex?" Jeez, another overconfident gay boy. Maybe it's being an athlete that builds their confidence. He's a very desirable gay boy himself. Shorter than me, apparently confident, excellent looks and body and I want him, but the problem is I need to prove to myself I have willpower, that I'm not a gay slut. It's not easy though as I squeeze the back of his neck, like he's doing to me. I mumble, "Thanks, you do too; your skin feels nice and that summer boyfriend I mentioned, with hair like your's, has skin like you do too." He smiles, and I look down, muttering, "Same eyes too; it's freaking me out a little." He says, quietly, "I'll be a good top for you, Oliver. I do it hard and I'll bet you like it that way, don't ya?" Without thinking, I mutter, "Yeah, I guess I do," and realize my dick's hard in my pants. I want to adjust myself, but don't dare. Evan asks, "Where do you want me to do it? Can we use your room?" I swallow hard, shaking my head 'no'. He gets closer to me and puts his arm around my neck pulling our heads together. A quick kiss on the side of my face, as he whispers in my ear, "I like to put a cock ring on my bottom boy, you okay with that, Oliver?" and a more blatant kiss near my mouth follows, right out here where anyone can see us. He smells sexy and I lean against him, muttering, "If you want, but I've never had a cock ring on; never even seen one." His hands on the other side of my face, fingers spread, holding the side of my face against his, as he whispers, "Yeah, you'll wear one for me and I got a real tight one just for you. I'll fuck you doggie style for your first one, real hard like you like it. Okay, Oliver?" I've slipped into my trance because he's so confident about everything, and he reminds me of Frankie, and I'd like to wear a tight cock ring and have Evan fuck me hard. He's got his arm around my waist as he stands, helping me stand, saying, "Come on, Oliver, you need it bad. My roommate's not back from break yet and he isn't expected until tomorrow morning." As I'm getting up I glance down and see the bulge in his pants; looks like another big dick on a small frame. Then I see Mrs. Gallo's big black car conspicuously coming towards us. Brand new black Mercedes Benz and I snap out of it, saying, "Here comes, Joey now." Evan mutters, "Fuck," then, "We'll hook up another time, okay?" I go, "I don't know, Evan. Um, like I said, I'm in a committed relationship." He chuckles, saying, "Yeah, you did mention that, but you want it from me anyway. Have you ever passed out from the intensity of your climax? You will when I spank you and fuck you 'cause the cock ring delays your orgasm, letting it build and build. You're the perfect sub and I'm gonna do you like you've never been fucked before." He ruffles my hair, chuckling, "Damn, you're cute. We'll hook up soon, Oliver. It'll be awesome; you are so perfect, you're my perception of perfection anyway. I'm excited about this." Hypnotized again, I stare at his mouth when he talks, wanting to taste him. Like Frankie his pale complexion makes him look so clean; it's like he's brand new. He puts a hand on the back of my neck, the other one deliberately reaches down and rubs my boner as I squirm leaning into him. Then, looking me in my eyes hypnotically, Evan smiles and squeezes my balls making me screech out. Chuckling, he goes, "See ya later, Oliver," and he saunters away so light on his feet he's almost floating. I somehow move a little, muttering, "Um, thanks, I mean, that hurt," and look down to the street as Mrs Gallo parks the car, and there's Joey's sitting shotgun. He's not looking up here though, he's looking out the window at a kid who's walking by on the brick sidewalk. With Evan propositioning me, putting me in a submissive trance, I hadn't even noticed that kid go past us. And, why's Joey's staring at the kid anyway? Well, the kid is a little bit hot with that awesome ass. There's a twinge of jealousy in me seeing Joey's looking at another boy, but at least he didn't see Evan molesting me. Glancing at Evan, but he's not looking back at me; he's scrutinizing the hot boy, just like Joey. Man, do I have a long way to go getting control of myself. It took Evan just long enough to smoke a cigarette, and I was ready to go with him to get fucked with a cock ring around my dick. That wasn't a fair test though because he's like Frankie's twin, and I'm not over Frankie yet. Just bad luck for me that Evan looks so much like Frankie. Then, snapping back into the moment, I step on my cigarette butt, saying to myself, "Will power, Oliver!" and then glance at Evan's one last time, thinking, 'Fuck, he's hot!,' then pop a stick of Spearmint gum in my mouth, and walk down to greet Joey. Joey's now looking through the car window directly at me and he has the cutest smile on his face; even cuter than Evans, and it's Joey I'm thinking about now. His smile makes him look like he's fifteen years old, instead of eighteen. Inside the car his hair looks black, but I know it's dark brown and it hasn't been cut for a while so it's wavy instead of curly. His hair is curly when it's cut short by the gymnast barber Evan mentioned, but I forget his name. Joey has that beautiful olive complexion, his dark blue eyes seemed to sparkle and he looks happy to see me. Opening his car door, Joey goes, "Dude, whassup? Thanks for being here to meet me." I beam back at him wanting to kiss him. When Joey's around all my attention's on him. That why I think he's the answer to my oversexed situation. Swinging his legs around, he goes, "Hey, Oliver, wait'll you see this," but before he can get out of the car, Mrs Gallo snaps, "Joseph! You need to have Arthur help you or you'll trip and break something else." Then to me, she says, "Can't you see he wants to get out? My God, son, wake-up and do your job!" There are many things I'd like to say to Mrs. Woodpecker, but I keep them to myself. Joey's embarrassed by his mother's behavior, but he and I have experienced it before so he just blushes slightly and rolls his eyes at me smiling an apology, and then makes a funny face like, 'What can I do, dude? She's my mother'. Then to her, he says, "Mother, you know very well his name is Oliver, not Arthur, and I want to do stuff myself now. I don't need help anymore." With that he pulls himself off the seat and then reaches for me as he's standing up. He mumbles, "Well, actually this leg is still weak, Oliver, so let me hold onto you a second." Mrs. Woodpecker orders me, "Get your arm around his shoulders and help him get to the side walk. For God sake, use some common sense." She gets out her side of the car and comes around for an awkward hug, telling Joey, "I'm late for my doctor's appointment, Joseph. Arthur will help you to the dorm. Go ahead now." He gives me a funny expression, as his mother points her finger at me, saying, "Get right back out here when you get Joseph settled, Arthur. You need to get his luggage out of the trunk." It's so nice feeling Joey's body again, but I get a tear in my eyes thinking about dropping my problems on him, and about how humiliating it's going to be. Our relationship might change too; he might think I'm a slut, and who would blame him? All of a sudden I have doubts about confessing, and I don't want to do it. As I'm walking Joey to the dorm I'm telling myself to rethink this plan while Joey's quietly saying, "Thanks for not dropping a few F-bombs on mommy dearest, Oliver. Hey, I really missed you, man. Actually I don't need help walking, I just love to feel your body against mine." There's a lump in my throat, as I croak, "I'm glad we're roommates Joey, or else how would I ever have met your sweet mom." He laughs and calls me a dick. His mother's been a bit of a problem his whole life, according to Joey. I call her Woody Woodpecker because she has reddish hair, a reddish face, and sharp facial features. Maybe her face is reddish because she gets a lot of Botox injections; that's my best guess. Joey's adopted and luckily doesn't look anything like Ms. Woodpecker. He told me he's adopted our first night together. He was adopted at age two days; and according to Joey, his adoptive parents have always been generous to him, but not particularly affectionate. Yeah, I guess some people just aren't. Joey was mostly raised in private boarding schools, from first grade till now. When Joey's inside the dorm, I run back to the car for his luggage. The trunk lid is open and Mrs. Gallo is back in the driver's seat checking her watch. We exchange no words, I get the luggage, close the trunk and off she goes. Not a real warm hearted individually, but maybe woodpeckers aren't warm hearted either. Back inside, Joey's get into a non-stop explanation about how fantastic it is getting his casts off, and how the rehabbing he's been going through for his arms and his leg is grueling work. It was extremely painful for the first week, but now he can do the exercises without too much pain. His healed broken bones and unused muscles will ache some until he's back to full strength. He fills me in with much more rehab information than I actually care to know, and at one point I stop him with my finger tip on his lips; he looks up and I kiss him. Joey loosely puts his arms around me and we do an open mouth kiss for two minutes before continuing to get him situated. He and I unpack his suitcase and put his clothes away while Joey's sharing more details about his break, and me dreading sharing mine with him. When he runs out of things to say he asks me about my break and what I did that was fun. Shrugging I mumble, "Oh, my break was okay, but I'm mostly interested in your recovery, and how that's going." Joey says, "Well, to sum it all up, Oliver, I can do everything for myself now without help, except for wiping my ass, bathing myself, and jerking off. Other than those few things I'm good, so your responsibilities will be greatly reduced." He caught me off guard with that and I frown, muttering, "What?" Joey laughs, pointing at my face, blurting out, "The look on your face when I said wiping my ass was priceless". He's his usual fun loving self having a good time. He hugs me loosely around the neck, which is a new and wonderful experience for me. Sliding the side of my face against his, I mumble, "With all your details of rehab, you forgot to mention you'd attended a school for stand-up comedians." He's quiet for a second, then a tighter hug with a kiss on my cheek, as he whispers, "I love you, Oliver" and I say, "Right back at you, dude." With his hand, Joey does what Evan did a little while ago, ruffles my hair on the back of my head as I hug him around the waist and we kiss again, this time for a minute or so. Joey told me once that he's never made-out with anyone except me, but his French kissing, and his kissing in general, have me wondering about that. He's either a quick learner or he'd done a lot of kissing with someone. We would probably follow up the kissing with some type of sexual interaction, except someone is knocking on our door. Four gymnast are at the door anxious to see Joey without his casts; none of the four is Evan and I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed. They bustle inside with lots of loud talking and ball-breaking comments. Gymnast as I've mentioned, unfortunately, aren't all cute; and many of them have average or even below average looks, and others are too musclebound for my taste, but some of them like Joey, Randy, and now that Evan kid are not only extremely cute, but have the hottest bods I've ever seen. Swimmers are next best I think. The gymnasts treat me okay, generally speaking, but not like they'd treat me if I were a gymnast; they treat me okay, like I said, because I take care of Joey. The six of us hang out in the room exchanging lies of sexual conquest over Thanksgiving break, then all of us walk over to the dining hall for dinner. No one's in a hurry during dinner, so it's around eight o'clock when we finish eating and wander over to the gymnast dorm where everyone gives Joey a big congratulatory greeting for getting his casts off. He'll be doing regular workouts with the team before the end of the year. I'm happy for Joey, but feel a little left out of things at the same time. Joey's tired by the time we're finally walking back to our room, he's saying, "All kidding aside, Oliver, would you mind doing our regular bathing routine with me for a few weeks. My arms get sore during the day, and anyway I love our bath time together. Don't you?" He's in a pensive mood now, and maybe that's because he knows our intimate hygiene routine is coming to an end, or maybe it's just that he's tired. I go, "Yeah, I love our bathing routine, Joey, you know that." In our dorm room we go directly into the bathroom. Joey can undress himself, but his leg's unsteady and he needs help getting into the tub of hot water. His pubes have grown in a half inch and as he sits in the tub it's cute seeing him blush when he asks if I'll shave them for him; we both know he has a fetish about shaved pubes, and that he'll probably have an orgasm while I'm shaving them. Biting my lip to keep from laughing at that, because it's serious business for Joey, I help him get out of the tub. After drying him off a little, he sits on the chair I'd moved into the bathroom weeks ago for situations just like this. Wrapping a warm wet washcloth around his pubic area I see his dick is already getting stiff, not a boner, but stiff from anticipation of his pubes being shaved. Grinning, I stroke his stiffy a few times enjoying the uncut skin sliding up and over, and then off the head of that big cock of his. Joey groans, "Ohhhh, God, that feels good, Oliver. Sure missed you doing that, and I thought of it often; you I thought of almost constantly. I got it bad for you, Oliver, and I can't even be cool about it anymore." Kissing him I'm muttering, "Jeez, that's sincerely sweet, Joey. I thought of you a lot too. Did ya get my mushy email?" He goes, "Not until yesterday when we got home. I didn't take my laptop to my grandparents because they aren't connected to the internet. Your email brought a tear to my eyes, Oliver; it was touching, dude." I tell him I figured his grandparents probably didn't have internet service as I stroke his cock a few more time; damn, I like doing that for him. Naturally I want to suck on it, but Joey and I haven't got that far yet in our reunion and maybe he's looking forward to the thrill of a spontaneous climax. Those spontaneous climaxes are hot; I've had a few myself. For now I'll have to just let my mouth water thinking about the taste of Joey's big cock. Great cock on that kid, and it's huge and hard by the time I'm done lathering shaving cream on him. The uncut foreskin skin reaches only halfway up his swollen cock head now that it's this hard. With the first scrape of the razor on his belly, he moans, "Ohhh," and jerks his hips upward as a spurt of precum splashes out of his pee slit, then drools down the shaft onto the back of my hand. We haven't done this for almost two weeks and apparently Joey isn't going to wait for the spontaneous climax this time; he has the use of his hands now so, when I let go of his boner, he starts fisting it as I remove another strip of his pubes with a swipe of the safety razor. His eyes are open wide, staring right at his pubic hairs being shaved, and with the third swipe of the razor Joey straightens out both legs stiffly, bucks his hips spurting out a squirt of watery com or precum. I stare at the muscle definition in his stomach as he tightens them, grunting through clenched lips, "Oh God," and a long stream of cum shoots straight up and then comes down on his shoulders and belly, spraying droplets of cum on my face. It's messy already as Joey continues with tight strokes on his boner while my cock tightens in my pants. I should have gotten undressed since I'll be getting in the tub with Joey eventually anyhow... damn! More strokes of the razor with Joey's stroking his boner, then a squeal from him as four quick spurts fly from his cock. He jerks his cock down and one of the spurts hits my cheek. He's moaning with sexual pleasure as drools of cum are drawn up from his nuts until both nuts are dry. Then with a long breathy sigh he leans back against the toilet tank with his eyes closed and his mouth open. He looks so innocent, like maybe he's just had his first climax ever at age twelve or thirteen. That's how he probably looked back then too. Wanting to kiss him as he lazily strokes his softening penis, I finish the shaving instead and let him enjoy the after affects of climaxing. The pubes shaving doesn't take long and I'm done before he's recovered from his cum explosion. As Joey sighs again, I get undressed and then help him get back into the tub, with him muttering, "Oh man, thanks for that, Oliver," meaning the shaving, accommodating his fetish. We do the regular bath routine, but Joey's very tired from the trip and his knee is aching so we go to bed kind of early without any additional sexy play. He tells me he doesn't have nearly the stamina or strength in his arms and legs he had prior to his accident. Being in a wheelchair for three months weakened him and muscle atrophy, the wasting away of muscle tissue happens with disuse. The degree of atrophy surprised Joey, but his doctor says the therapy will reverse that in time, but it'll be painful at first although vital he follows all the exercises. So that tires him out too. He's sexually satisfied for the moment, but I'm extremely horny, which isn't anything new of course. My recent commitment to do something about my runaway sex drive is very much on my mind so I sweat it out and don't jerk off even after Joey falls asleep. He didn't say anything about sleeping together and I didn't bring it up because I know I'd need sexual relief I I got in bed with Joey; that boy is so sexy to me. I want to show him I can control myself, but if he suggest other sexual activities between us he'll get no argument from me. The point is, I want to wait until he initiates it to help improve my willpower. Our first day back to classes, and Joey's gymnastic practice after that, both go smoothly. The professors seem to be satisfied they've weeded out the students who can't keep up and our assignments are lighter. Hopefully this becomes a trend and today doesn't turn out to be an aberration. I kinda miss pushing Joey in his wheelchair, but he insists on walking as much as he can. It's necessary to have the wheelchair available though, when his leg gets to aching too much we'll use it. I'm pushing it to and from practice sometimes with Joey in it and sometimes with it empty. After dinner at the dining hall, we do our assignments together at Joey's desk. Finished with that, we sit out on the stoop and smoke a cigarette with Joey being kind of quiet and I wonder if he's having second thoughts about doing sex together. I've slipped back a little into a more pessimistic outlook now, as opposed to my gung-ho, positive outlook when I was fucking, or getting fucked, with every willing gay boy I ran into. And I'm honest with myself about Evan yesterday, I know I'd have gone with him if Joey hadn't showed up in time to bring me to my senses, so Joey's already helped me with my sexual addiction, and he doesn't even know it. Maybe I won't actually need to confess to Joey, just stay by his side and concentrate solely on him. It's when Joey isn't around I get myself in trouble. That seems like a copout though; not confessing to him I mean. Then, flicking his cigarette butt behind a shrub, Joey asks, "Um, no pressure, Oliver, but do ya wanna fool around?" He asked that so damn sweetly, but instead of saying what I desperately to want say, which is, 'Oh yeah, Joey!!!', I quietly ask, "Can we talk about something first?" Joey mumbles, "Please don't, Oliver. Not if it's about your boyfriend? What's his name, the redhead? I've been worried he might have decided you're not allowed to continue our relationship. You're so honest you probably told him about me, and I knows how head over heels you are for him. You haven't said anything about us having sex since I got back, so that's got me worrying we won't be having any sexual encounters except maybe jerking off." Okay, this is why he's been quiet all day. I go, "That isn't the case at all, Joey, I very much want to have sex with you, but..." and then all my rehearsed confessions desert me; my mind is a blank as far as that goes. Or maybe I'm using this diversion to wimp out on my planned confession. Maybe something else will work better, so taking a deep breath, I try a different approach, "Will you be my boyfriend, Joey?" He says, "Oh, I thought we already were boyfriends," and I go, "Um, yeah, but I mean will you go steady with me? I'm over Frankie, well not totally, but I'm working on getting over him because he's not who I thought he was. How 'bout it Joey, just you and me exclusively?" Joey scrunches up his face like he isn't sure if I'm goofing around or if I'm serious. It's understandable, he doesn't want to be embarrassed by saying, 'I'd love to', and then find out I'm only kidding. In a halting way, he kiddingly goes, "Um, Oliver, I believe thirteen and fourteen year old boys and girls go steady. We're two college gay boys lucky enough to be stuck together as roommates for months on end, twenty-four/seven, dude. That sounds pretty steady to me." Like I said, his manner is half joking, but when I drop my head, he asks, "What's wrong Oliver? You haven't been your old self since coming back from holiday break." Looking away from him, puffing out my cheeks and exhaling air through my lips, I mumble, "Oh man, there isn't any way I can avoid doing this to you, Joey. That is, if what I hope happens is ever going to happen; for that I need to unload my problem on you." Sounding nervous, he quietly asks, "What do you hope happens?" and then I tell him, "I hope you'll help me, Joey. I think I've got a serious problem being promiscuous. I've been having sex with any boy that wants to and it seems one gay boy leads to another and my opportunities have been many lately." He pats my back, muttering, "Do you want to tell me about it; you don't need to if you don't want to." I go, "Yeah, I do need to or you won't know how messed up I am." He says, "Lets go inside, Oliver, it's cold out here." We walk inside and he lays on his bed, and before I lose my courage, I tell him about me driving to Alexander's and about Anthony giving me the haircut Alexander wanted me to have. And about Anthony coming on to me, and me saying no. Joey interrupts, "Well, that doesn't sound like promiscuous behavior to me. I'm not sure I would have said no." Wishing I could stop right here, I go on to tell Joey about that night. By the time I've covered the Batman and Robin parade routine Joey isn't looking at me, as he mutters, "You have got to be kidding me." When he hears about the silent auction he's back to being silent himself. He makes some kind of dismissive sound as I'm describing the sixty-nining with Spunky. Deep, deep, dead silence as I continue, and I'm on a roll now flogging myself by leaving nothing out. Telling him about Bobby and me, and then me sleeping in Alexander's bed with him, and then Alexander feeding me the sandwich at lunch, and the twins later on about five that afternoon. He turns over with his back to me as I describe the first exposure with Aaron when he'd just mesmerized me, and how I kept going back to the hoagie shop hoping to find him working. By now I don't even know if Joey's still awake as I continue to mumble on and on in a monotone telling about Frankie about all the sexual encounters I've had during the break. The only reaction from Joey is his body seems to tighten when he hears that Frankie and I are done forever, but it slumps down again when I begin describing the supply room, vegetable oil spanking and fucking that Aaron laid on me. Well, his body language indicates Joey's still awake and listening anyway. Taking another deep, long noisy breath, I confess about Myers and me fucking and before I'm done, Joey yells, "Will you ever shut the fuck up, I'm trying to get to sleep. I sincerely do not need to hear anymore of your disgusting life style. I can't hear another word from you!" I stop talking immediately and the silence in the room becomes deafening. I don't know if he went to sleep then or not; I know I didn't. Guess I was expecting too much from Joey. In hindsight I shouldn't have been so inclusive with my descriptions; I should have used general terms. But no, I needed to be completely honest with him or what's the sense in telling him at all. Guess he doesn't want to go steady now, and maybe he'll request his room be changed. Humph, guess I lost a roommate. Well, roommate problems are rampant in college dorms. Ya know, after all I've done for Joey I expected a better response than, 'Will you ever shut the fuck up,' but it was obviously just wishful thinking. And another thing, forget about that old saying that confessions good for the soul. I feel like a piece of shit and I'm humiliated, not only for living the last ten days like I did, but for confessing about it to Joey. Yep, I'm back on the shit express, just like high school and this time I've got nobody to blame but myself. Still, I thought Joey would be more understanding since he loves me and all that. Yeah, I'm surprised. Shocked too. Around midnight, I slowly get off my bed, get undressed and then get back in bed under the covers and sometime later I finally fall asleep. My last conscious thought was, 'I never cried. Usually I cry at tragedies, but this tragedy I just hated on myself till I collapsed into a deep sleep. to be continued... Chapter 27 (Joey the next day) Donny Mumford thin at 20@yahoo.com Please consider a tax deductible donation to nonprofit Nifty. Details at the site. Thank you.