Date: Wed, 9 May 2012 05:53:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR Chapter 25 (Part 1) by Donny Mumford

			   DYLAN'S FRESHMAN YEAR

			 Chapter 25 (Part 1 of 2)

			     by Donny Mumford

This dark blush on my face is a result of the lady at the front desk doing
an exaggerated double-take because Willie's holding my hand; the blush
intensifies in color and heat as Willie continues holding my hand while
leading me to our table, like I'm his son; that damn feeling of being a
little boy comes over me again.  Oh well, I'm in this odd, but totally
submissive frame of mind, wanting to please Willie, and feeling like a
little boy is part of it somehow. How does he do this to me? And, I still
do get wicked embarrassed attracting attention like this, but my new found
need to do what Willie wants overrides that concern. Why the fuck is that?
It's as though I feel like I'm being taken care of by Willie. Yes, a very
odd sensation, but fascinating too, and it has my dick tingling in my
panties wet with Willie's and my cum. I smile to myself thinking, "I'm a
little boy who's just peed his pants." Willie's done this to me in the
past, put me in this odd frame of mind, although not to this degree. He's
never been this dominant before, it's like he's making up for the past nine
months, or maybe it's just the contrast to the way he was two days ago, and
the manner in which he's been conducting himself the past day or so; he
didn't plan this, did he? That's a stretch even for Willie. And also
there's this: I seem to be embracing this submissive feeling more fully
than ever too, what's with that?  Could it be I'm making-up for the past
nine months, too?Very, very strange situation. It's like Willie has a
special ability, a special power to dominate me. It's very addictive too; I
mean addictive to me, but maybe it's addictive to Willie on the dominant
side as well. And weirder yet:I know very well that I'll willingly go
deeper into this mood, take it even further, and that's a scary,
tantalizing thing for me to contemplate. My submissiveness is like a
run-away train at the moment. Willie's always been able to induce this
almost hypnotic mood in me, but it's like he's honed this dominant skills
to a much higher degree. I can't say I think it's a bad thing, not now,
anyway. I kinda like it, but it's very strange too. Hummm?

At the beginning of our trip I was the one leading the way and helping him
overcome one disaster after another, but today has been a complete
reversal. It went slowly at first, but now it's taking-off at a dizzying
pace. I guess it's partly my fault for allowing it to happen, and even
encouraging Willie to be more like his old self. I'm not complaining about
it because I feel so good this way. It's a contradiction, actually; he
makes me feel so good by treating me like the most desirable boy on the
planet, and then the next moment he completely dominates me, getting very
stern, as if he feels superior to me. At times there are so many
compliments from him that my head spins, and then he treats me like his
child by telling me when and how I'm going to get my hair cut. Well, it's
only for the next day or so. But, after saying that, I know in my heart
that I'm going along with this silly thing until the end of this trip, at
least; maybe further. It all seems new and extremely exciting to me
again... even more so then when I first met Willie. Robby mostly fakes
being dominant, but with Willie it's like he feels he's entitled to
dominate me, kinda like it's his responsibility to do so, and he's taking
that responsibility seriously. At times it's like he thinks he's doing me a
favor by being dominant. Right now though, he's in the best mood I've seen
him in since before we broke up. He's just told me that I have the most
beautiful eyes and face of anyone he's ever known. Guess he doesn't
remember Robby. That being said, I do have good eyes and I'm pretty good
looking too; hell, I know that. Still, it's nice to hear someone say it. He
thinks I'm the sexiest boy in the world too, and I take that as a
compliment. I mean, I've had my share of boyfriends and so far nobody's
complained about my sexiness. Hey, what the fuck, am I starting to believe
everything Willie says? Oh my God, why am I thinking these bizarre
thoughts? Willie breaks into my musings, by saying, "I'll order for both of
us, Dylan. You have trouble making up your mind." I say, "Sure, Willie,"
and actually I'm perfectly fine with it because he's way more sophisticated
in these matters than I am.

As we wait for the waiter to take our order I'm squirming in my seat
because of the cum soaked panties Willie insisted I wear. He fucked me hard
with my panties pulled down under my buttocks, but the front of the girlie
things were left covering my dick. They got stretched to the limit when my
boner came up, and when Willie fucked a climax out of me I filled the front
of my panties with creamy teen-boy cum. Then Willie filled up my ass with
his cum, pulled the back of my panties up, and his cum drooled out of my
ass soaking the back of my panties too. What a mess I'm sitting in; it's
going to leave a stain on the material of this chair too. Jesus! How
embarrassing is that!? The cum is cold now and it's become very sticky;
maybe it won't soak through. Later it'll dry to form a crusty layer of cum
on my ass, crotch, and panties, which is going to be uncomfortable and
itchy. Just before we left the room Willie told me the reason he's making
me wear these cum-soakedpanties: he says the cum-filled panties will remind
me how good he fucks me, and make me think of him. I should have protested
about wearing them, but at the time I was pretty much under Willie's spell,
and that spell is intensifying now that he's insisted on this public
hand-holding. Willie keeps taking me deeper and deeper into submission. How
does he know how to do that? He insisted holding my hand from our room,
down the elevator, which was crowded, and that started my blush, and then
he held my hand all the way through the restaurant; and, like I said, it
made me feel like a little boy. I've always liked holding hands with
another boy, but in private! Maybe Willie's sex with me has been so hot
that it's clouded my brain, maybe that's the explanation for my current
submissive state. Whatever the cause, it's made be especially accommodating
to him. Like I said, he's magical with that.

As I squirm in my seat, Willie talks excitedly about the past times we've
had together, bringing back memories of times I'd forgotten. I find myself
captivated by his boyish voice; it's almost identical to Robby's. A strange
coincidence there, fer sure.  When the waiter comes, Willie has my hand
again, holding it on top of the table. He'd taken hold of it as I was
reaching for my water glass. I let him do it without thinking much about it
until now, with the appearance of the waiter. So it's awkward for me, but
not at all awkward for Willie. He's rubbing the palm of my hand with his
thumb, as he orders escargot for our appetizers and Dover sole with baby
parsley potatoes and mixed baby vegetables for our entree. Foods I've never
tasted before. I was worried he was going to try and order wine or some
liquor drink using his ridiculously fake ID, the one that claims he's
twenty-five years old, which would have embarrassed the shit out of
me. Thankfully, he doesn't try it. I don't know what escargot is. Then it
arrives, and I have serious doubts about eating it. It's little shells with
a strong smell of garlic eminating from the shallow bowl. Willie says, "Use
that little fork to dig the snail out of the shell; it's mostly butter and
garlic, but really delicious." Snails? You gotta be shitting me! I watch
him chewing one, "Yum yum," he says. Hmmm, I try one and while it doesn't
make me throw up, it's not especially good either. The next one I dig from
the shell I look at closely, and now I do almost hurl. What a gross looking
thing. Stubby legs, I guess they're legs. And it has a from-outer-space
looking head, or at least I think it's the head. No fucking way am I eating
another one of those things. I gag while staring at it. Willie just laughs,
then says, "Okay, we'll scratch escargot from future dinners. For you we'll
stick with shrimp cocktail, but if you ever saw a whole shrimp with it's
head and all, you probably wouldn't eat it either." He pats my hand,
saying, "It's alright, don't eat them, baby. Here, pass the bowl over to
me," which I gladly do, and when he's finishes his, he eats the rest of
mine too, using my little fork.

It fascinates me that I'm so captivated by him again, especially since just
a couple of days ago I was completely disgusted that he was so drunk and
feeling so sorry for himself; not to mention the suicide attempt. Now it's
like he's my savior. Could it be that that nonsense he was spouting off
about how saving someone's life is like falling in love; could that be for
real? No, that can't be it! Then what is it? Willie's chatting on happily
while eating both bowls of snails... my eyes stay fixed on his face.  I
swear to God, it's like I'm head over heels in love with him. That's what
it feels like anyway, but in my brain I know I'm not. My dick moves inside
my wet panties as I think about him fucking my sore ass later tonight;
that'll be after our walk on Duval Street. The bowls are removed from the
table and Willie motions with his finger, looking at my hand, and I move my
hand across the table so he can hold it; I need to lean forward because he
only moves his hand a comfortable distance from him. He says, "Dylan,
everything is open on Duval Street at night, so the first thing we do is go
into that little earring shop we were in last night and get matching
earrings. Both of us are going to get our other earlobe pierced 'cause I
think that two-earring-look is cool." I give him a startled look, and he
goes, "I know, I know... I didn't like it when you got you're ear pierced
in Wildwood that time, but I've changed my mind. You can see I've got an
earring now too, and we'll go for both ears tonight.  I'll even let you
pick out the earrings, but it has to be earrings that the shop has two
pairs of." He doesn't ask if I want my other ear pierced, he just tells me.
Actually, for a while there I did have both earlobes pierced, but I let the
right one grow back together. I like the two earring look too though, now
that Willie's mentioned it. When the main course is served Willie lets go
of my hand so I can eat. Believe me when I say I've been conscious of the
stares from other diners, but what the hell, gays aren't exactly rare in
Key West so what's with all the staring? The Dover sole is surprisingly
good. I don't usually like fish, but this is unlike any fish I've ever had
and I finished it all. I eat everything on my plate, even the baby veggies
which are good too.  Willie has introduced me to so many things during our
relationship; nobody else even comes close in that regard. I feel more
sophisticated when I'm with Willie, although no where near as sophisticated
as he is. Yeah, more sophisticated when I'm with Willie, but at the same
time it's as if I'm much younger than him too... which is another odd
contradiction of logic. For dessert, we shareda piece of chocolate cake
with chocolate mousse on the side; it's so sweet it almost gives me a
toothache, but it's delicious. That kind of describes how I'm feeling about
Willie.

After Willie signs for the dinner, we get up and this time Willie has his
arm around my waist as we walk through the restaurant. Just past the
reception desk he kisses me on the lips. It's a quick kiss, followed by,
"Did you enjoy dinner, Dylan?" I go, "It was fabulous, Willie," and off we
go into the night with Willie's nonstop chatter; me fixated on his every
word. He's simply commenting about things we pass on our way to Duval
Street. I make sure to nod my head, or laugh with him at his sarcastic
jokes and funny comments. He has a very sharp, quick humor and I'm thinking
he must be very intelligent to be able to come up with funny lines so
easily. Usually I think of something clever to say a minute or so too late,
'cause I need to think it up first. I'm leaning against him as we walk, his
arm snugly around my neck now. It all feels so good and there are other gay
couples walking hand in hand too, so it's not like I'm uncomfortable about
walking this way in Key West; not anymore, anyway. In fact, I prefer it and
put my arm around Willie's waist now to please him, which gets me a kiss
from him. In a joking way, he says, "Ya fell back in love with me big time,
like I told you you would. Didn't ya?" Surprising myself, I answer, "I
think I did, Willie," and he stops us to give me a long, wet kiss on my
lips which causes my boner to push out the front of the cargo shorts I'm
wearing. Why don't I get this way with Robby, who I'm supposed to be so in
love with? That's the question that runs through my brain; a question I
don't want to think about right now. Surely this is just a temporary case
of insanity, but I want to enjoy it to the fullest anyway.

On Duval Street we journey down to the little earring shop, Willie's arm
still around my neck. He occasionally pulls my head over to bump against
his. Now I automatically put my arm around his waist without even thinking
about it; it just feels natural and right, I think I'm doing it because
Willie likes it and I've developed this weird desire to please
him. Everything is happening so fast thatI'm dizzy. Inside the earring shop
there are a few customers examining earrings, and one very gay-acting man
piercing a girl's ear at the end of the counter. Willie walks right up the
the ear piercing guy, gets his attention, then motions at the both of us,
saying, "We're next, okay?" The man gives us a strange look, then says,
"You need a parent to say it's okay. You're both under eighteen, right?"
Willie is indignant, "We're almost twenty!" The man shrugs, saying, "As
long as you have a valid picture ID, like a driver's license." Willie
shakes his head in disgust, muttering, "Of course we do..." Then he says to
me, "Look around and pick out the earrings you want us to wear." It's just
accepted that I agree that we both want our other ear pierced and that
we're to wear the same earrings. I nod and smile at him; he's so sure of
himself it gives me confidence too. Remembering the coolest dude ever on
the Wildwood boardwalk, a boy named Mike, I pick out little gold hoop
earrings. There are three sets behind the glass case; they're rather
expensive but I don't give that a thought. I mean, Willie said I'm allowed
to choose them, and these are what I choose. Who cares how much they cost!
I read somewhere that gold is less likely to cause infection, which is
another reason for choosing these.

It's our turn now and after we show the man our ID, he says, "You're a
mighty cute couple, ya just look a lot younger than you are.  You'll be
glad of that some day." Willie ignores that and instructs the ear-piercing
man, who's putting on a new pair of plastic gloves, "Pierce my boyfriend's
other ear, being sure the pierce matches the spot in his left earlobe". The
gloves the man is putting on look exactly like the gloves my dentist
wears. The man does an exaggerated shrug, lisping, "Oh my God, I never
would have thought of that on my own." Willie gives him a hard look, and
the man adds, "Your boy is in good hands with me, Sir." That sounded
awfully sarcastic to me, but Willie just gives a nod, then says to me,
"Show the man the earrings you picked out for us, baby." I do as I'm told
and the man gushes, "Ooooeee, these are perfect for you, honey," as he
picks up a couple of pairs, and says, "Back down here, cutie," and we walk
back to Willie, who's watching every move the man makes... he's very
protective of me. The first time my ear was pierced, Mohawk man just washed
his hands; no gloves. The piercing man here motions for me to sit on the
stool, then he crowds me unnecessarily, and washes my ear lobe with
alcohol, saying, "You have the most beautiful two-tone blond hair I think
I've ever seen.  It's natural, isn't it?" I mumble, "Yes, of course," as I
look into the mirror on the counter. The buzzed hair at the crown of my
head is getting fuzzy already. After our shower Willie blow-dried the
flattop part in the front of my hair, while brushing it back, getting all
the hairs standing up straight.  It does look good and I'm a little
disappointed Willie's making me getting it buzzed. Speaking of Willie, he's
frowning at the man, probably annoyed that the man is almost laying on top
of me. Finished cleaning my earlobe, the piercing man opens my packet of
earrings, then takes a new needle out of its sterile package and pierces my
ear with me doing a quiet, "Ow". It's like a hard pinch, but doesn't last
long. I know from past experiences it'll be sore for a while, and that it's
definitely not a good idea to sleep on it. "Don't forget to clean it with
alcohol or hydrogen peroxide," instructs the man. He's stopped the bleeding
and now slips the earring through the pierced hole. "You should do clean
the opening at least twice a day until it heals." I go, "Thanks, I know to
keep it clean." I stand up and Willie takes out my old earring from my
other ear, and slides in the gold hoop to match my newly pierced ear. I
look at myself in the mirror again, and am very pleased with how I look.

Willie sits down on the stool now, and the man follows the same procedure
with him, including the instructions for keeping the pierced opening
clean. He probably says the same thing to everyone. Willie pays with his
credit card and we walk out hand-in-hand with me looking over at Willie
thinking how cute and wonderful he is.  He'd picked-up my old earring after
he slipped in the new one, and put it in his pocket, so I ask, "Willie, can
I have my old earring? It was a Christmas present." He says, "Sure, Dylan,
but I want you to wear these gold loops all the time, even when you're
away, or until I buy you new ones." I go, "I will, I promise," and he stops
to fish my old earring out of his pocket, muttering, "It'd look silly to
have different earrings in each ear anyway," and I go, "I know, but I don't
want to just throw away a present." He's sarcastically says, "You mean like
you did with my gifts when we broke-up?" I protest, "I didn't throw them
away, I sent them back to you, with many thanks for your generosity."
Anyway, I'm thinking, we didn't "break-up" as if it were a mutual
agreement; I sent him a 'dear John' letter, but why split hairs?Outside
we're walking again, this time with his arm around my waist and now my arm
just naturally goes around his. He says, "Well, there'llbe no more of you
returning my gifts, from now on you keep what I give you, and anyway, we're
never breaking-up again. Right?" That sounds so final a spike of fear
travels through my brain, but I mutter, "Right, Willie". Now I'm trying to
get my mind around the implications of that. Of course, my first thought is
of Robby, so why am I professing love to Willie? It's too much to
contemplate right now. I'll be able to clear my head when I'm back at
college and Willie isn't so influential. He's got such a magnetic and
powerful personality now; now that he's feeling good about himself
again. In my submissive frame of mind I can't contradict him... I don't
know why, I just can't. This subject is too confusing in my present state,
so I put it aside for now and try to get over this scary feeling I'm
having, and can get back to enjoying myself. Willie says, "We're gonna go
to that club where there's dancing; the one we almost went in yesterday. I
feel like dancing with you." I go, "We're not going to be able to get
served, ya know. Especially after what the piercing man said about us
looking so young." Willie scoffs, "Don't worry about that. We'll get a
couple of drinks one way or another." Damn, I get nervous when Willie pulls
some of his stunts; sometimes it causes me nervousness
andembarrassment. Willie wants me to stop caring what strangers think,
they're nothing to us and we'll probably never see them again anyway. So,
fuck 'em. But that's easier said than done for me.

There seems to be more gays, both male and female, out tonight. Or, maybe
I'm just noticing them more 'cause we're walking in this obviously gay
manner. I kinda like this openly gay stance, but I'm not sure I could pull
it off unless I'm with Willie. He takes his arm from my waist and puts it
around my neck again, and like last time he pulls my head against his, but
this time he kisses my forehead, saying, "You are the best looking
boyfriend on Duval Street." That makes me feel good and I lean against
Willie some more; he's got a great body. We get some cat-calls as we walk,
most of them complimentary from other gay boys and men, and lots of stares
from straights and gays alike. Makes me feel almost like a celebrity, not
self-conscious like I used to be. Willie doesn't acknowledge any of the
remarks; I'm not even sure he's aware of them. Finally we're there and I
get excited by the loud, hot music that flows out the door to the tables on
the sidewalk.  Very festive. Willie takes my hand and leads me inside where
a bouncer stops us, "You're obviously under age, I need to stamp the back
of your hands." Willie holds up his hand, the one holding mine, and the
bouncer stamps the back of both our hands with a big red word... "NO". I
see most people have a "YES" stamped on their hand. Let's see Willie get
around that. He probably will. We go upstairs to a large balcony where
fifty or sixty people are dancing, drinking, and talking.  Actually it's
the roof of the attached store next to the bar. There's a railing all the
way around for safety reasons, and it's a cool view of Duval Street up
here. Beautiful night with a sky full of stars. This is early for the crowd
on Duval Street, but this place will be really jumping in a couple of
hours, when everyone's had the chance to get liquored-up. The music's just
as loud up here as it was on the street. Standing there with Willie,
waiting for him to tell me what we're going to do next, I look around and
it appears there's almost all guys in the crowd, and quite a few of them
are dancing together, so this must primarily be a gay hangout. Cool!

Willie says, "Come on, Dylan, dance with me.  I want to show you off."
Maybe I've been going a little overboard with my idolizing of Willie
lately, but this is no exaggeration; he has all the moves on the dance
floor, and he taught some of them to me when we were going together the
first time. I'm not in his class, but looking around at the other dancers,
I conclude that I'm better than most. As we dance we attract
attention. It's happened before when we danced together at the block
parties we used to go to in Cambridge; soon there's a circle of guys around
us clapping and encouraging us on, which enhances that feeling of being a
celebrity. It just feels so good to be applauded. Robby gets applauded at
baseball games, but this is new for me. It never happens for me unless I'm
with Willie. So cool! The first fast song ends and the next one starts
right up, so we keep on dancing. The guys around us create a curiosity
which attracts more guys. One time at a block party two years ago, the
entire street of gay dancing guys stopped their dancing to watch Willie and
me; we had our shirts off and looked real sexy.  Back then I got
self-conscious about it, but Willie's helping get me get over that. We stop
after the second song; perspiration on both our faces. Guys slap us on our
backs and asses while making complimentary comments, and a few
off-colorcomments as well... you know, sexy ones. Two guys in their
twenties approach us. The taller one says, "You two are so fuckin' hot
together it's sick! Let me buy you boys a drink.  What'll you have?" Willie
smirks at me, then says, "That's nice of you, how about two vodka and
cranberryjuices?" The taller one, says, "I'm Marco Ryder and this is my
boyfriend, Dean." Dean's shy and a little effeminate. He waves a little
wave at us, staring mostly at Willie. Willie says, "Nice ta meet you both,
this is my boyfriend, Dylan, and I'm Willie." Marco bumps fists with
Willie, and says, "Ya got yourself an awfully cute boyfriend, but um, are
you sure you don't want Cokes? No offense, but what are you, about sixteen
years old?" Willie doesn't take offense this time. Instead he makes a joke
out of it by showing Marco his license. "Show Marco your license, Dylan,"
so I take it out. Dean goes up on tip toes and looks over Marco's shoulder
as they check our birth dates, "Jesus Christ you boys are almost twenty! I
can hardly believe it, but is beer okay?" Willie goes, "That's good too,"
and Marco sends Dean to buy the beers; he stays with us to chat.  Well, he
talks mostly to Willie, the two dominant types. I stand near Willie and
smile when something kinda funny is said.

Dean comes back carry a plastic pitcher of beer and four plastic cups on a
tray, then quietly explains to Marco, who's frowning at the pitcher, "The
guy says the rules have changed, they don't allow bottles out on the deck
any longer, and I know you won't drink out of a can." Marco says, "Put it
on that little table, Dean, and then scrounge up some chairs for us."
Willie says to me, "Help him with that, Dylan," and then offers Marco a
cigarette, which he takes. Well, Dean's no help scrounging up the chairs;
he's too shy to ask guys if the empty chair at their table belongs to
somebody in their party. So I do that and each chair I get is carried to
our table by Dean, so he is some help. Some of the guys I ask about the
availability of the extra chairs saw Willie and me dancing, so there are
some nice exchanges and two "passes" at me that are kind of flattering, and
so were the ass pinches. It's just good gay fun. It's a happy crowd, not
intimidating at all. When I carry the forth chair to our small table, Marco
says, "You two did a nice job getting these chairs, thank you, boys" and
Dean leans his head against Marco's shoulder. They're both nice enough
looking, although nothing special. Marco has pale olive skin like the
French boy on the bus tour, with big dark eyes. His dark brown hair is
pulled back into a short ponytail that's barely long enough to be a
ponytail. Wide shoulders on his six foot frame, but he's not particularly
musclebound. Dean's thiner than I am with pale skin and freckles. His hair
is cut ultra short, so short it's almost looks like it's painted on his
head. It's light red hair and the barber has razored a straight hairline
across his forehead and carried the outline down the sides and around the
back. Then the barber razored in a one inch part on top, near the left
side. It looks cool, but too severe. "When Willie says to Marco, "I love
the look of your boyfriend's haircut. It's very stylish," I think, "Uh
oh!". Marco runs his hand over Dean's nearly bald head, saying, "I keep it
this short on him. Ya know, just to remind him who his big bad boyfriend
is; don't I Dean?" Dean blushes a dark red that matches some of my top
blushes, and mumbles, "I know who my man is, Marco." Marco squeezes
Dean'sshoulder and pulls him over for a kiss on the cheek. Willie seems
very interested in the interaction of these two, which causes me some
concern. He asks, "Where do you take him for that type haircut, Marco?"
Marco tells him, then fishes a business card from his wallet for the
barbershop and Willie takes it, without looking at me. I picture myself in
a severe haircut like Dean's and bite my bottom lip with worry. I wish
Willie had said something about me getting a buzz cut tomorrow instead of
asking for the barbershop Marco takes his boy to. Now the buzz cut seems
like a good thing to me; better than Dean's haircut, fer sure.

My wet panties are just damp now and, when I think about them I do think
back to the great fuck Willie put on my ass, and shiver with anticipation
of him fucking me again later tonight; no more taking turns, of
course. Willie'sgoing to be the one doing the fucking from now on. The more
I think about later tonight, the firmer my dick gets and I need to adjust
it in my pants, anxious for the time to pass. My shoulders shudder with the
thrill of another fuck on my ass tonight, hoping he does me doggy
style... he can really pile-drive my ass in that position. Plus, I get to
pull on my boner at the same time when he's doing me that way. My firm dick
turns into a boner as I'm visualizing Willie behind me, driving his cock up
my pussy, as he likes to call my ass. Willie said he's going to fuck me
until my rectum toughens up; by that time, he said, I'll be thinking of
only him and wanting to be fucked by him again.  Is that possible, I
wonder? Willie and Marco talk on; Dean and me are as attentive as we can
be. I again awkwardly adjust my hard dick. I make myself get my mind back
to the present and realize the subject of the conversation has turned to
the usual things for strangers: where we all are from, how long have we
been boyfriends, what school do we go to, and things like that. Marco is a
senior at college and Dean works in a clothing store. Dean and I don't
speak unless we're spoken to, which I'm good with because I don't know what
to say tonight for some reason. Usually I'm more outgoing, particularly at
college. Robby's more the shy one, with kids he doesn't know, that is. But
here and now, being seen but not heard is the way to go with me being
submissive and all. I mean, be seen but not heard where a dominant sex
partner is concerned. Heh heh, it's kinda fun playing this role to the
hilt. Marco and Willie talk so easily with each other it's like they've
known each other for years. That's a talent, being a good
conversationalist. But, what isn't Willie good at? We all smoke and drink
beer which is going down easily. Draft beer is easier to drink, I
think. Then I notice, with a smirk, that Dean holds his cigarette like a
girl. When we finish the pitcher, Marco sends Dean for another one, adding,
"How 'bout you helping Dean with that, Dylan..." My eyes travel to Willie,
who says, "Go ahead, baby, give Dean a hand," so I follow Dean into the
bar. Inside, Dean says to me, real bossy like, "Get one of those trays over
there, but don't come near the bar; you're underage." When I gawk at him,
wondering what happened to the shy Dean, he snaps, "Go ahead, don't be
stupid!" He walks over to the crowd at the bar leaving me standing there,
furious at him. "Who the fuck does he think he is?", is what I mumble to
myself before calming down. I get a tray and then hear from Dean, who's
somehow managed to wiggle his way up to the bar through the people to get
the pitcher of beer ahead of guys who were there before him, "Go back over
there, dummy, and get four fresh plastic cups. Marco doesn't like using the
same cup all night." There's too many people around so I refrain from
yelling at him that he needs to go fuck himself. Instead, I get the cups
and walk back to Dean. He puts the pitcher on the tray, and says, "Follow
me with the tray, and don't spill the fucking beer." Off he goes with me
carrying the tray. Okay, to be fair about it, Dean did get the first
pitcher on his own. I carry the tray of booze behind Dean who does cut a
path for me, so maybe there's a method to his madness. Outside Marco says,
"Clear off the old stuff, Dean," and when he does I put the tray
down. "Thank you, Dylan," from Marco, and then I hear, "Come over here and
give me a kiss," from Willie. I do it, a quick kiss on Willie's lips, but I
don't feel good about this scene here anymore.  It could be a big mistake
hooking up with Marco and Dean.

Dean's back to staring at Willie, and I have to admit, I wonder why he's
ignoring me. Guess he isn't interested in a submissive boy. Then, my
thought, the one about it being a mistake hooking-up with these two comes
true; potential trouble develops. Marco looks at Dean and me, and says,
"Sorry boys, but I've only got one joint left. Willie and I are going to
share it over at the end of the railing. You two dance while we're doing
that." Dean gives Marco a defiant look, as if dancing with me is the last
thing in the world he wants to do. What the fuck's wrong with him, anyway?
To make matter worse, the DJ just announced a series of slow dances, by
yelling out, "These next slow tunes are for you horny boys who need to rub
your dicks together,". Marco quietly says, "Do what you're told, Dean," and
Dean says, "Well, can I at least lead? It's a fucking slow song." Marco
asks Willie, "Do you mind if Dean leads while they dance?" and now I'm
giving Willie the same defiant look Dean just gave Marco. Willie says to
me, "Don't give me that look, Dylan. Dean's leading, you follow his lead,
now get moving." I know he doesn't want to be outdone by Marco on the
dominant front, so I mumble, "Okay, it's not that important anyway." Marco
says, "At least two dances,boys... Willie and I want to enjoy the pot and
we don't want you two hit onwhile we're smoking it." Dean gets up and
smacks the side of my head, saying, "You heard him, let's go, sweetie, and
don't step on my fuckin' feet while we're dancing." Willie sees that I'm
getting mad, so he says, "Cool down, Dylan, don't ruin a good time. Dean's
in charge while we're away, try to have fun, fer chrissakes." Marco adds,
"Do what Dean says, he older than you and knows what's up." I look at
Willie, and he says, "You heard him, don't look at me every two seconds."
MaybeWillie is getting drunk again. Funny, but when Willie gets firm with
me like this, I'm still surprised to find that I like it and I give him a
kiss to prove it, saying, "Sorry, Willie. I'll be good." He kisses back,
saying, "Or you'll get a spanking," and he says it loud enough to be sure
Marco hears him. Marco's standing now and Willie gets up too, as Dean yells
at me, "Get over here!" so I walk over to him and he roughly takes my arm
and squeezes it, then says, "Follow me," as he drags me near the
dancers. Last thing I hear is Marco saying to Willie, "You gotta stay on
top of them; give 'em an inch and they'll take a mile. Tough love is what
they need." I don't hear Willie's comment because Dean is pulling me over
to the dance floor with a grip on my forearm, and he's certainly stronger
than he looks. I'm thinking that Marco was obviously referring to us
"submissive boys" when he talked about "staying on top of them". He refers
to boys like Dean and me as just plain "boy". Well if I'm Willie's "boy"
he's got a "boy" who's a month older than he is. I guess that doesn't
matter to me. If that's how he wants to refer to me, so what? I mean for
the rest of our trip, anyway. I'm trying not to care about things like that
anymore; just like I don't care if he's starts referring to my ass as a
"pussy". It's just a word.

When Dean drags me to the spot he wants on the dance floor, he shakes my
arm again, saying, "Now listen to me, twinky, and do what I tell you." I
give him a puzzling look, asking, "What do you mean?"  He says, "Don't be
stupid! You heard your man tell you to do what I say, I'm in charge of you
while they smoke their joint. Am I right?" I mumble, "Willie's not my
"man", he's my boyfriend." Shaking my arm hard, he says, "Don't change the
subject. I'm leading in this dance; we're doing it my way. Now put both
your arms around my neck and lean into me, and don't step on my fucking
feet!" He isn't acting girlie now, but he still sounds girlie, although
he's very intense too. I look over to the table, but Willie's gone, so I
put my arms around Dean's neck, resigned to dance the way he wants me
to. He sternly says, "Lean against me tightly, goddammit," and so I do
that, it's easier to just do what I'm told in strange situations like
this. What the hell do I know? Then I smile to myself again, thinking,
"Guess Willie's broken me in correctly, already. This is so silly,
man". Dean is three inches shorter than me so I need to scrunch down to get
cheek to cheek. His hands are at his side as I snuggle in against him. He's
got a slim, but taut body; another surprise. He says, "Get tighter against
me," so I do that and, what the hell, he feels good and he's a guy with a
guy's scent, so I can't say it's unpleasant. It must look funny to others
though, seeing me attaching myself to Dean like this, while he just stands
there. He mutters, "That's better, twinky. You're getting it now, just 'do
what I say', right?" My lips are against his ear as I mumble, "I guess." He
grips my buttocks, a hand on each cheek, and pulls my crotch tighter
against his crotch. "Follow my lead," and he smoothly moves with the music,
with me following. He's a very good slow dancer. This isn't bad, Dean's
another one of those boys that smells good and my nose rubs lightly against
his ear. We're dancing like one, so Dean mutters, "Okay, you're doing good,
we're going to do a few quick moves now."  I concentrate, taking clues from
his body's movements and follow him without stepping on his feet. This is
nice enough, not so bad. Dean says, "Well, okay," when I've successfully
followed his lead, but now he begins humping gently into my cock. It's easy
for him to do the humping because I'm being sure to stay tight against him,
the way he told me to. His hands begin massaging my ass cheeks and that,
plus the pressure on my cock, gets my cock's attention. My cock has always
had a mind of it's own and it again starts boning-up, feeling real
good. Dean's smooth dancing and the stimulation on my ass and dick soon
have me bone-hard and it's really embarrassing to have this happen with a
stranger, but there's nothing I can do about it. Plus, it feels better and
better and my hips, on theirown, begin humping back against Dean's gentle
humps. Oooh boy, this is awkward. If I wasn't so tightly against Dean, the
lap of my shorts would be pushed way out by my boner. Dean puts his tongue
in my ear and it gets all squishy in there. He bites my earlobe and then
sucks on the hickey Willie gave me earlier; a quiet moan slips from my
lips, surprising the shit out of me 'cause I can't believe this toad is the
reason for me getting aroused.

The first song ends and another begins. As we dance, Dean whispers in my
ear, "Marco and I were making out at the bottom of the back steps awhile
ago. No one goes down there. If you ask me real nicely, I'll give you a
quick fuck down there. It'sobvious you want it and our men won't be back
for ten minutes, at least." This takes me totally by surprise too, and I
stammer, "I, huh, what? Are you kidding?" He lets go of my ass and, taking
hold of both my wrists, pulling my hands from around his neck. Getting a
firm hold on my right bicep, he says, "Get moving, I'll show you if I'm
kidding or not." Now that I'm not tight against his body my pants are
tented-out by my boner embarrassingly. I sputter, "Nah, no, I don't want
to. Let's do what we're told and dance until they come back." If he were
cuter and less obnoxious, would I go for a quick fuck with him? I don't
even want to know the answer to that. He shakes me, his fingers digging
into my arm, saying, "You need to do what you're told. You heard your man."
Coming to my senses, such as they are lately, I do a might shrug with my
whole body and pull my arm out of his grasp, and hiss, "I said no,
goddammit!" He stops, looking around to see if we're attracting attention,
then says, "Okay, ya big pussy, I'll let you suck me off then, but let's go
while we have the time. Obviously I turn you on," and he grabs my crotch
crunching my boner in the process. I grunt, "Ow!" then, "Don't!" He goes,
"You're such a cock tease. You must get punched out regularly." I just
stare hard at him, and he gives in, "Alright, twinky, get your arms around
my neck like I told you before. Relieved, I resume my position against him
and we dance like before, but now he's not doing the gently pressure on my
cock or the squeezing of my ass, his hands are at my waist. But my boner
doesn't go down right away, not until we're walking back to our
table. Marco and Willie are walking across the floor at the same time. That
was random! Dean wanting to fuck me I mean, it was totally unexpected. When
Willie's at the table, without thinking about it, I find myself hugging
him. Willie goes, "Hi, baby," and kisses me quickly on the cheek. Feeling
foolish, I back away as my face blushes. Why did I do that? I guess because
now it just feels so much more comfortable for me when I'm with Willie.

The marijuana joint doesn't seem to have had any effect on Marco or
Willie. Dean pours beer for all of us, as Marco asks Dean, "How'd the
dancing go?" Dean lights a cigarette, like a girl does it, then nods his
head in my direction, and says to Marco, "He dances good, but that's as far
as it went." Marco seems surprised, he mumbles, "Hmmm, that's a surprise,"
and Willie's like, "You're surprised that Dylan can dance? You saw him out
there earlier, he dances awesome." Marco seems uncomfortable as he fumbles
a cigarette out of Dean's pack. He says, "Oh no, I didn't mean I'm
surprised he's a good dancer, um, forget about it." The light goes on in my
brain that Marco wanted Dean to proposition me, and he's surprised I
rejected the offer. Thank God I did. Willie's picking up some vibes, he
takes a swallow of beer, thinking about it, and with an edge to his voice,
asks, "Then, what are you surprised about?"  Marco looks at Willie for a
second, kind of arrogantly, and states, "I said to forget about
it. Alright?" Willie stands up, and in a phony jovially manner, says, "It's
beenreal nice,Marco. Thanks for the beer," and then he nods at Dean,
saying, "Dean, nice meeting you," and then to me, "Let's call it a night,
Dylan." I hop right up and stand next to Willie, glad we're leaving. Marco
stands up now too, and goes, "Well that's just plain fucking rude and
disrespectful. We buy you beers, I share my joint with you, and you just
blow us off." Willie likes to fight; me, not as much although I've had my
share. Plus Dean's tougher than he looks, and there's no point to it in the
first place. Marco doesn't want to lose face in front of Dean, and for all
I know he likes to fight too, so he's spreading his hands like he's waiting
for Willie to explain himself. It appears Marco and Dean thought we'd all
get together for a gang fuck or something. You know, they want to fuck some
young ass. It's tense, but Willie defuses the situation by reaching in his
pocket and coming out with a fifty dollar bill that he flips on the
table. He says, still in that fake jovial mood, "I didn't mean to diss you
guys, let me buy you a few rounds, and thanks again for the beers." The
fifty dollar bill startles Marco and he gawks at it, then holds out his
hand to Willie, who does the finger-curl handshake, with a little bump at
the end, as Marco says, "Thanks for the fifty, I knew you'd be a stand-up
guy." Then to Dean, he says, "Say goodbye to our guests, Dean." Dean's back
in his shy-submissive role as he mumbles, "Nice ta meet you both," without
look up. I don't say anything, and we walk away. Willie quietly says,
"Don't look back, Dylan; they're not going to do anything."

Out on the street I feel relief that nothing serious happened. Then,
without thinking about it, and before Willie has a chance to take my hand
or wraps his arm around my neck, I get against his side and put my arm
around his waist and squeeze. His arm goes around my neck now, and then he
pulls my head over and kisses the side of my forehead. Then asks, "Ya wanna
hit another club or head back to the resort?" The thought of Willie fucking
me again fills my head, so I immediately say, "Let's go back to the Reach
Resort, okay?" He chuckles, and says, "I wonder why you're so anxious to
get back there." I hug his side, mumbling, "You know why." He goes, "Indeed
I do," and he gives the side of my head another kiss. I feel calm and
tranquil, a very serene state of mind and at this moment my fucked-up mind
thinks there isn't any place on earth I'd rather be. Whether he decides to
call himself "my man" and me "his boy" or not, that's how I feel about it
at this moment. I'm glad Marco and Dean brought that "my man" concept to my
attention; it just feels right, and even though I'm flabbergasted at
Willie's incredible return to days of old, I'm cool with it. I squeeze
Willie again and he looks over at me as we walk and gives me a smiles, then
whispers, "I told you this was going to happen, didn't I?" I squeeze his
side again, and mumble, "Yes, and I guess I'm glad you were right." I feel
awesome being with him now, it's the biggest surprise of my life, but I do;
and it happened so quickly too. It's such a wonderful feeling, like
floating. I'm also aroused by the feel of Willie's body and I fantasize
about the fuck he's going to give me in a little while. The fantasies so
vivid I need to reach down and adjust my dick again, thinking, "How many
times will this be in the last two days? Seven or eight?" I decide right
here and now, "I'm all in with Willie, totally in love or in lust with him,
one or the other; could it be both?" Well, whatever because it's for the
short term anyway. The first time we were going together I think I was
mostly in lust, but now maybe it's more like the real thing. I'm feeling
strangely grateful that Willie's willing to give me this second chance,
especially after I the way blew him off last year. No way am I going to
mess this up again. Maybe Willie's right about us being born for each
other; we seem perfect together, right now anyway.


Back at the resort Willie wants to smoke a cigarette on the deck; it's as
if he never jumped over the railing at all. In my head, I try to recreate
his dive off the balcony and find it's still a vivid scene when I
concentrate on it. I'm starting to wonder if I can tell, from the way he
dived, if he could have grabbed the bottom of the railing. No way I could
have grabbed the railing if I'd done that dive, but he's so much more
athletic than me I believe he could have. Hmmm, there's a strange thought
for me to ponder. Where'd it come from I wonder? However, that thought
isn't fitting-in with my current mind-set about Willie so I quickly drop it
and look over at him, and see he's been staring at me. I drop my eyes, as
he says, "A dollar for your thoughts, Dylan," he says it with cigarette
smoke escaping his rosy lips. Staring at his mouth now I visualize those
lips on my cock, and a shiver of pleasure runs through me. He's so sexy to
me now, it makes me feel weak. Snapping out of my daze, I quietly lie, "I'm
just thinking how lucky I am that I'm back to being your boyfriend." Willie
wiggles his finger that I should come over to him, and when I do he hugs
me, and says, "Geez, Dylan, I wanted you back all along, but I needed to be
patient and allow my plan to run its course." I give a quick thought to
"plan?" and then let it go, as he continues talking, "I knew you'd to see
the light eventually. I think I know you better than you know
yourself. Truth is, I've been yearning for you ever since you dumped me."
He runs his hand through my funny half flattop haircut, saying, "We'll get
this haircut situation straightened out tomorrow morning first thing." I
have no inclination to argue with him about that at this moment. I usually
don't care too much about my haircut, but that's a very severe haircut that
Dean's rocking, the one I think Willie has in mind for me. Or, maybe he'll
be satisfied getting me a buzz cut. I hope so.

Willie talks on as we stare into each other's eyes. "Here's the important
part of me taking you back to be perfectly honest with you: I only wanted
you back if you could be as you were when we first met. I put my mind to
it, and persevered, and now look at you... you're even better than you were
back then. Being without me for all those months obviously cleared your
mind and I guess you came to realize what a mistake you made dumping
me. The last couple of days you've proven to me that you are now ready to
be the kind of boyfriend I want." I'm overwhelmed by his confident, almost
arrogant, description of how things are, so I can only nod my head in
agreement. He squeezes the back of my neck affectionately, and adds, "What
I'm saying to you is: you be good, be the kind of boyfriend you know Willie
wants, and I'll keep loving you. We'll forget all about the mistakes you've
made in the past and start a clean slate here in Key West. This will be out
special place to visit. Okay?" I nod my head again, hypnotized my his voice
and what he's saying. Another affectionate squeeze at the back of my neck
from Willie, harder this time, jostling me a bit, as he says, "Nobody can
pleasure you like me, can they, baby?" I come in against his body,
snuggling in his arms, inhaling the scent from the side of his face. He
lifts my chin so I'm looking into his eyes again, and asks, "Am I right,
Dylan?"  Captivated by the way he can get so intense so quickly, I say,
"There's no one like you, Willie... it sure seems that you're right." He's
rubbing the back of my head, muttering, "That's my boy." A big kiss on my
lips, then he adds, "Come on inside and get undressed, I'll show you what I
mean by pleasuring you." "Yes, Willie," is all I can think to say, but my
dick and ass come alive, and I'm excited.

Inside, as I'm undressing, Willie rummages through his clean clothes,
complaining, "Damn, we're almost out of clean panties." I'm stepping out of
the panties stiff with dried cum as he's saying that and give a thought
that he'll probably tell me to keep wearing these cum-stiffened
panties. Instead he says, "We'll sleep naked tonight. Tomorrow's our last
day so I'll save the last two pairs for then." I nod again, but he's not
looking at me. He mutters to himself, "On the morning plane ride back, the
day after tomorrow, we'll wear two of the panties I wore earlier this
week." The thought to argue with him about that doesn't even occur to me,
and I wonder why that is? Willie wants me to wear his used panties on the
trip home, I guess I'm fine with that too; I'm pretty much fine with
whatever he wants it seems. that's mystifying. I stop undressing, and go,
"Um, Willie, can I ask you something?"  He looks at me, smiling, "Of
course, what is it, Dylan?" I'm shaking my head slowly, asking, "How do
you, I don't know, how do you mesmerize me like you do? I guess that's the
best way I can put it. How do you get me in sort of hypnotized conditions,
where all I want to do is please you? It's so, um, weird." He pats the bed,
indicating I should sit on it, so I do. He stands in front of me with a
hand on each of my shoulders. Then, with his face close to mind, his beer
and cigarette breath in my face, he says, "I can't get you to do anything
you don't want to do, and certainly I don't hypnotize you. Lets be open
about it, you love to bottom and I love to top. You've a submissive
personality and I've developed as a dominant one, and here's the thing: we
both love those roles. In other words, we're perfect for each other. I give
you what you crave, which is great dominant sex; the sex is great to you
because I'm doing it in a dominant way, and that thrills the submissive
side of you. Remember, I was submissive to Larry for over a year, and I
loved it back then. All I needed to do was please him and he took care of
everything else. Where we'd go, how we'd get there etc. etc. etc. Now I do
that for you. Isn't it comfortable and relaxing not to need to worry about
the details of anything?When we're together I take care of all that. I buy
you everything, plan where we go and all the details that go with it, as
well as lots of other details of things we do day to day. You don't need to
concern yourself with any of that. Just enjoy yourself. We have fun don't
we?" I nod my head, and mumble, "Well, yeah, we do. " He says, "And how do
you like the way I fuck you?" I chuckle, looking down, muttering, "You're
awesome." He asks, "Do you believe you're submissive, especially in sexual
situations?" I feel like I'm having an oral test at college. I make a goofy
face, saying, "Yeah, I am. Everything you say is true, but still, the state
of mind I get in is so odd. For instance, did you ever feel like a little
boy with Larry?" He laughs, saying, "Only all the fucking time, but it's a
good feeling. It just acknowledges that I knew I was submissive to Larry. I
liked that feeling back then. Do I ever make you feel like a little boy?" I
blush, mumbling, "Yeah..." Willie leans over hugging me and rocking me back
and forth, yelling, "That's fantastic! I love that you told me that. Oh my
God, that's awesome!" He's so happy about that, I can't help but smile,
nodding my head that it's true. He goes, "It's just you admitting to
yourself I'm the dominant partner in our relationship. By the way, neither
side, dominant nor submissive, is more important than the other, It's sort
of rare when two gay boys meet and it works out so perfectly. Embrace it,
don't fight it."

He gets up on the bed next to me, our feet dangling off this high mattress,
and puts his arm across my shoulders. I lean in against him, and ask, "But,
it's just that you seem to know exactly what you'redoing and I'm always
fuzzy in the head, I guess. Why's that, do ya think?" He's talking in a
very sweet way, not lecturing, like he does sometimes. "Well Dylan, that's
not too surprising. Remember I've been sexually active since I was twelve,
and I have the experience of being in both a submissive relationship, and
this dominant one with you, and one or two other ones as well. That's a lot
of experience, wouldn't you say?" I go, "Yeah, I never thought of it that
way. I'm just amazed this transformation took place so fast, I guess. I
mean, two days ago you were so down in the dumps and all. And, um, now
you're, ya know, uber dominant." He goes, "How's it make you feel when I
assert some dominance over you?" I scrunch-up my lips, and then tell the
truth.  "My balls start buzzing and I get this funny feeling in my stomach,
and stuff like that." Willie asks, "And is that a bad thing?" I shrug, and
mumble, "I guess not, but it's weird and, I don't know, I feel sort of
wimpy; and that isn't a good feeling." He says, "It's new for you again,
you're just getting back in the grove, but come on... I remember how good
it made me feel to be submissive to Larry, who by the way I don't care for
now. I hopeyou never switch to a dominant personality and feel that way
about me." He's got an answer for everything, and I can't really argue
about anything he says. It is a great feeling, except for the part about me
feeling like a wimp. And, he's probably right about me being new to our
current relationship too; I mean the current sub/dom one. It's been nine
months since I last experienced it, and I never experienced it this fully
before. Then I think of something else, and ask, "But why do I need to get
a buzz cut tomorrow? What's that have to do with anything?" He chuckles,
and says, "First of all, it's going to be the haircut Dean has, not a
regular buzz." I go, "Oh, no. Willie, that's too severe." He says, "It is,
a little, but that's the point. Like Marco said, it'llremind you of me
every time you look in a mirror. And that'll remind you of our awesome
times together and how good it feels for me to dominantly fuck you; ya know
it's true, being brutally frank about it. Be honest with yourself, you love
it that way. Tell me if you don't." He's right, I gotta admit it. He says,
"Dylan?" and I mumble, "Yeah, you're right, but can't it be a buzz cut?
Please!" He hugs my shoulder, and kisses me. "No, Dylan, I decide that sort
of thing, that's my job. Sometimes I need to be stern with you. Okay?" I
mutter, "Okay." Then he says, just like Marco said earlier tonight, "I
gotta show you tough love sometimes. Any more questions? Feel free to ask
anything you want." He's got an answer for everything, and he makes sense
too, so I shake my head "no". He goes, "Okay, this was a good talk. Thank
you for starting it. Now, get that hot body of your's naked. You turn me on
like nobody else comes close to matching." I do a little grin, realizing
I'm not surprised Willie could explain it all so well. It's clearer in my
mind now. Simple really, I like being submissive and I like the way Willie
fucks me, and he likes his role just as much as I like mine.

When I'm naked I stand there waiting for Willie to get undressed, which I
guess he'll start doing after he's finishes with the bathroom. But, from
the bathroom, he calls out to me, "Come on in here, Dylan." I hustle over
and see that he's naked already. He tells me, "We're going to re-shave our
pubes. I felt a five o'clock shadow from yours when I was fucking you
before dinner." I'd felt his earlier too, and ask, "Do you want me to do
yours first?" He says, "Just stand there, I'll do you first." I stand tall
with my hands clasped behind my back as he wets down my groin area, lathers
shaving cream all around, and then does a meticulous job of shaving me. He
even gets a few hairs on my balls, then turns me around and spreads my
buttock to check for any hairs around my anus. "No hairs on your ass,
baby," he says, then with a chuckle, adds, "That's just one more reason I
love you so much," and then he smacks my ass three times hard. I grunt, but
don't complain, and he gives me one last loud, hard smack on my ass,
saying, "Okay, you're good to go. Now, do me," which I do just as carefully
as Willie shaved me. I think of something else to ask him while I'm doing
the shaving. On my knees, looking up at him, I ask, "Um, I was just
wondering about something else." He says, "Sure, what is it?" I say, "I
understand that I like a dominant sex partner, and you're certainly that
when you want to be, but you're dominant all the other time that we're
together too; like telling me how I'm going to get my hair cut. How's that
work?" He says, "It just makes more sense that way, and it keeps us
comfortable as to who we are; relationship-wise, I mean. It'd be awkward
switching back and forth from dominant to equals. And don't get me wrong,
we're equals, I just mean as far as our dominant and submissive personality
goes; as guys we'reequal." I mutter, "Oh, yeah, I guess." Then he adds,
"And it's just more consistent.  It might sound silly, but it's important
that you remember who's in charge; who's the dominant one is in our
relationship. That way, we can slip right into sex without a hitch. There
are little ways I remind you of your place; and please don't take offense
at my choice of word there. We're equals except you're the sub and I'm the
dom. It's good for both of us that we remember who we are." I ask, "What
little things?" He smiles and says, "I can't give away all my secrets, but
like me smacking your ass when I finished shaving you. Did you notice how
you just accepted that I have the right to do that?" I look down, mumbling,
"I guess," and he goes, "It's just an indication to me that you accept my
dominance. It's what makes our relationship work so well, it makes it a
stronger bond." I go, "Oh, I see what you mean. I don't mind a smack on my
ass," I have to grin again because him saying all that, made me get that
little boy feeling again, but I don't tell Willie. It's kind of
embarrassing. I'm surprised to hear that he's following a predetermined
process with me though. I didn't realize there's a method to what he does;
I thought it was extemporaneous. What the hell, most of it makes sense; I'm
just going to enjoy it while it lasts, but I'm not giving up Robby... no
way is that happening. But at the same time, I need Willie too; I just
do. Continuing with the shaving, doing exactly what Willie just did, minus
the smacks on his ass, I find that he does have some hair around his anus,
but I don't say anything about it because it might piss him off. I don't
mind the hair, there isn't much and if he wants me to rim him I'll just
lick them flat against his ass cheeks.

Shaved clean, Willie says, "Good, put this stuff away real fast, and we'll
hop in bed." He's smiling at me sweetly as he walks out of the bathroom,
completely in charge of the situation, fer sure. I watch him walk over to
the bed, then get under the covers. Damn, I gotta give it to him; he knows
what he's doing, and when I look at the basics, it simply boils down to me
enjoying being submissive to Willie's dominance; what's so complicated
about that? I quickly clean the razor, then put the shaving stuff back into
Willie's travel kit and hustle into the bedroom, my dick swinging to and
fro. I get under the covers on the other side and immediately scoot over to
him so he can wrap me in his arms. The first thing he does is suck on my
hickey again. I don't dare tell him that Dean did the same thing when we
danced, so Willie's actually sucking on Dean's dried spit. Willie sucks the
hickey until it's throbbing again, all shiny, red, and wet. "Good," he
mutters. The hickey is kind of like the smacks on my ass, it reminds me of
my place in our relationship, I can see that now. It's just part of the
whole, part of what keeps me feeling submissive, while at the same time,
helps Willie maintain his dominant role. Seems obvious to me now. Willie
gets his arm around my head, accidentally hitting my newly pierced ear and
I let out, "Ooww, Willie!" He's all apologetic saying he's sorry, hugging
me tightly. That turns into a major make-outand it's delicious. I feel I
have a much better understanding of or relationship now, and it sort of
makes sense too. If I don't want to get my haircut, Willie can't make me,
but he won't continue the relationship either. I like all the rest of it
too much to let a haircut stand in the way. My boner is soon stretching as
long as it can get, and all other thoughts slip away. This is what it's all
about. By the time Willie throws back the cover and jumps out of bed, I'm
hot, panting, and gasping for air with my boner throbbing. What a major
make-out artist Willie is. I watch him walk to the foot of the bed,
wondering what's coming next. He grabs each of my ankles to pull me down
towards him. Oh, this is the way he did me the other time. I'm on my back
sliding down the sheet. When my ass is just at the edge of the mattress, he
says, "Lift your legs and hold them back." When I do that, he says, "Spread
'em, spread 'em wide," which I do. I'm so anxious to feel his cock up my
ass, so anxious I'm licking all around my lips, panting with
anticipation. Thoughts of my sore ass don't even register in my mind.

part 2 to follow immediately