Date: Sat, 13 May 2017 12:54:07 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE     Chapter  42

DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE


Chapter  42


by  Donny Mumford


Chubby's sound  asleep in the passenger seat of the Jeep as I'm driving us
home for Christmas break. During the first ten minutes of our  trip we're
on route 125 in a no-passing zone behind a UPS  truck that's going
twenty-miles-an-hour under the speed limit.  Jesus! The driver's apparently looking
for an address  while inconveniencing me and the line of cars behind me. When
I'm  not cursing-out the UPS driver I'm thinking about recent encounters
I've had with five of my fellow students, namely:  Golden  Summers, John
Smith, Daryl/Pony Ponti, Steve Church, and Ryan  Wilcox.

Firstly, Golden  didn't do much of a haircut for  me this afternoon
although that's not primarily what I'm  thinking about.  It's what Golden told me
about Frankie that's on  my mind. Apparently she has been seriously dating
and fucking a guy  since possibly as far back as Halloween. With that in mind,
I'm royally  pissed-off at her all over again because the girls' continued
their charade  that Frankie was attracted to Rob. Plus, Frankie continued
encouraging him  to make-out and eventually have sex with her. A sneaky
disingenuous  act for sure, but my main concern now is whether or not  to tell
Rob. It's further proof Frankie is a fraud and  was playing Rob for a sucker. I
suspected something was amiss from the  very start with those two, but I
still don't know what I could have done  about it. Rob hasn't gotten over
feeling terrible about the abortion  so it might be rubbing salt in the wound
telling him how devious Frankie  was about almost everything. He naively was
under the impression  she was a friend while her motives for their
relationship are unclear and most  likely consisted solely of winning the bet she had
with Beth. Ah fuck,  I gotta tell him. He'd probably find out eventually and
it'll be better coming  from me.

As for Steve, he  emphatically denies everything Ryan told me about that
horrific haircut and the  sex they had together, plus every single detail
involving spring break. In  other words, Ryan's a liar; nothing he told me was
true. I'm disgusted with  him for taking advantage of Steve. I mean it was a
reprehensible move  Ryan getting Steve high on cocaine-laces pot then doing
that absurd haircut  that will embarrass Steve over the Christmas break and
beyond. I'm trying  to decide if Ryan planned to purposely fuck Steve up or
if it was all done to  somehow make me jealous, which is sooooo fucking
sick. Being jealous of who  or what? I never gave it a thought until now. After
all the lies Ryan's  told me about him and Steve I need to question
everything Ryan's told me the  past two-plus-years, although I don't expect to ever
know the truth. Anyway  there is no explanation that could excuse Ryan's act
ions or his  lying where Steve is concerned.

Then there's Pony who  I've grown very fond of and maybe I'll even get
together with  him during the break. He lives in Pennsylvania which is less than
a  seven-hour-drive from my place so visiting isn't out of the question. We
 could even meet halfway and spend the night in a motel. We probably  won't
do either thing though. Most likely we'll pick-up where we left off  when
we're back at college. He's my favorite side-sex buddy during my  junior year
at college though. That's how I'll probably think of him in  five or
ten-years when I'm reminiscing about my college  days.

The trip to Worcester  with John Smith had a big surprise. It's that he has
an alter-ego when  under the influence of alcohol. Yeah, and his alter ego
showed more than  just traces of dominance during sex, although it was
inconsistent. For  example, he'd show dominance by jerking my head with a fistful
of my  hair to get me to suck his cock and then he'd do something like
snicker and  say he's sorry for doing it. Still, it's a start and something
that maybe I can nurture into a semblance of real sub/dom sex on a  consistent
basis. That'd be  good, plus I like John as a friend too. The problem is he
might be basically too  nice a guy to really pull-off true sub/dom sex.

While I'd be satisfied  with what we had in Worcester he needs to be drunk to do
it, which mean me being  drunk too. There's a possibility we'd both turn
into alcoholics by the  end of next semester. Yeah, so ya know, that's
probably not what we're  looking for.

Now... back  to: what the fuck is wrong with Ryan???  It's been a
disgraceful and pitiful act on his part the last two days. Maybe his bad  behavior
has been going on for as long as I've known him. For the  moment though I'm
thinking about the dirty tricks he pulled on Steve Church.  Ryan can't feel
good about himself or maybe he feels nothing at  all about it. He may just be
sick in the head and in need of some  serious professional help from a
psychiatrist or someone like that. I know  he's seen one in the past and he
should probably get back to it. Mental health  problems of some kind surely must
be a part of it, but it's  still hard to feel sorry for him after hearing
the malicious lies  he told me about Steve. In retrospect some of the things
Ryan told me  in the past were hard to believe and I should have taken them
with a grain  of salt instead of taking everything he said at face value.

For example,  his disturbing stories about the summer-before-last seem
outlandish to me  now. And I couldn't validate any of it during my ten weeks with
him in Georgia. It was more likely Ryan was socially inapt rather than what
he  told me. He said guys were picking on him or ignoring him which
supposedly led to his association with a sadistic dominant guy who I now  believe
may be a figment of Ryan's imagination. The guys at Church and  Bible study
readily became friends with Ryan once I broke the ice. He'd  apparently never
even tried connecting with those guys during the  two years he's lived
there. Bottom line is I now have very negative  feelings about Ryan. Oh, and he
never wants me texting him  again anyway, so I'm probably gonna leave it at
that.

Those are some  of the things I was thinking about while driving up route
125.  The UPS truck finally came to a stop and I got around it on my way to
connecting  with route 93. Once on route 93 my thoughts turn to my boyfriend
and lover who I  haven't seen much of the last four days. Rob's only been at
Merrimack long  enough to take final exams and then it's right back home to
work for  Dickers and Son, Inc.  He's working there right now but  I'll see
him tonight and I'm very much looking forward to that. Robby's very
special and sometimes I don't feel I'm good enough for him. Ha ha, he claims he
was in love with me before we met which is a unique kind of love. As for  me,
I waited to meet him before falling in love and now I've got an
unconditional love for him. The only other unconditional love I know of is  between
Chubby and me as brothers and life-long best friends. We've always  claimed
we're brothers and best friends the likes of which the world has  never known
before. We're famous for that... in our own minds, ha ha. Yeah, but  during
the past few months I've felt an unconditional love  for Rob too, plus we're
in romantic love as well. So that's deep,  dude!
Rob's not perfect,  no one is, but he's close enough to perfection for me.

Obviously we both have  our side-sex affairs but we consider them
inconsequential compared to the  sex and love we have for each other. Few people can
understand or believe that.  We believe it though and that's all that really
matters when you get right  down to it. Chubby's had some reservations about
Robby at times but his main  concern is my happiness and wellbeing. My Mom
thinks Robby's wonderful and  so does Chubby's Mom, Tris. The only other
person on earth who cares seriously  about Rob and me is his brother, Dodger.

He's of the opinion I'll be making  a huge mistake marrying Rob. Dodger's
known him better than anyone and if  he knows something nefarious about him
he's never mentioned it to  me.

It's conceited and I'm  probably flattering myself to think that instead
of some deep dark secret it's simply that Dodger would  rather I marry him.

That's if I can believe Dodger because that's what he's told  me more than
once. Ironically he does fit my ideal life and sex partner better  than Rob
except for one major factor; I'm in romantic love with Robby and only  have a
friendship love for Dodger. That's a Grand Canyon of a differences right
there! You can't  make yourself love someone any more than you can make
yourself not love  someone. The best you can do is lie to yourself and lying to
yourself is stupid  and it also has a short shelve life. Romantic love is true
love and it  can't be faked, plus you know when you've found it. Rob and I
have found it and  we're not giving it up for anything or anybody. It's too
precious.

So my thoughts of Rob  are always warm and fuzzy. I've come to idolize him
much the way I idolize  Chubby. They're the only two people in the world
I've ever idolized and the only  two I probably ever will idolize. Robby's got
some admirable real life  qualities that I don't have like his
conscientiousness and work ethic. I'm not  implying I'm some stumblebum of a totally
irresponsible individual. It's just  that my priorities are more pleasure
oriented... more about a love of life. That  includes being responsible too, just
not being fucking fanatical about it.  Not everything is life or death ya
know. I'm more a roll-with-the-punches kind  of guy. I care about friends a
great deal more than I care about wealth, for  example. I do like money
though. I'd rather be rich than poor but it  matters what price must  I pay for
the wealth. That matters a lot. I gotta admit that these are  my thoughts at
twenty-one when I'm still more boy than man. Almost every  guy my age is
still more boy than man whether they admit it or not. I  suppose everything is
subject to change as one gets older but for now this  is my life and Robby's
the center of it. My side-sex is fun although not as  much fun as it used to
be and perhaps it'll be less and less fun as time  goes by. I miss the cute
boys I used to have side-sex with on a regular  basis, but we all get less
cute with age, so it is what it is. I've accepted the reality of  that.

And I realize I  probably spend too much time thinking about these kinds of
 things. Perhaps I'm trying to justify to myself that I'm okay and not
some kind of kook. Maybe I'm trying to justify that I'm a good person  living
an acceptable life. I think I am, so I'm apparently doing a good job
convincing myself of that. No one can definitively know what other people think  of
them. We only know what others tell us and how they treat us. I know I'm
very lucky to have the two moms and the brother I have. I'm always grateful
for them. I also know they spoil me and let me do my own 'thing' without
criticism. I know what it feels like to be loved by them and I've known that
love all my life. I can only hope they feel the love I have for them as much
as  I feel theirs. These are  other random thoughts I often spend time on.

As I'm driving onto  route 9 in Natick, five minutes from Framingham, I'm
reminding myself of an old  joke that goes: "I've talked about myself enough.

How about if you talk about me  now.' Yeah, I get in these dumb
contemplative frames of mind too often. I am who  I am and I sincerely hope it's good
enough because it's all I've got...  there ain't no more. At a red light I
glance again at my sleeping brother and  marvel at how good looking he is.

That's another thing I think too  much about: people's appearance, their
'looks'. It's shallow of me to  base too much of my opinion of a person on how
good-looking they are, so  that's another thing I'm working on. Hell, John
Smith isn't going to win any  beauty contests and I like him. Of course I did
recently elevate him into the  'goofy cute' category in my mind, so there's
that... ha ha. Maybe I am a  kook.

Driving  around behind our condo I park in front of the garage and sit here
 thinking about the best way to handle Chubby's situation, for him I mean.

Hmmm, he's very sound asleep which is understandable beings he never went
to bed  last night. I can't leave him in the car because it's below freezing
outside and  leaving the Jeep running with him in it seems dangerous. Well
first off I  need to drive the damn Jeep into the garage... duh! Getting out
I hit  the garage's pass code and then drive the Jeep in and turn off the
engine. Okay, I'll leave Chub here just until I unload all  our shit. After
that I'll get him in my bed so I can keep an eye on him and  make sure he
doesn't start walking into things if he should wake-up still  hammered.

It takes me fifteen  minutes to get Chubby's stuff into his bedroom and put
away. Ha, mostly his  clothes belong in the laundry.  His Mom has
cleaned-up his  bedroom although it'll only take Chub two days to have it in shambles
 again. Chubby doesn't sweat the small stuff like I do. It's probably
Robby's  influence that I'm turning into a bit of a neat-nick. With Chubby's
stuff taken  care of I take care of my own and then back at the truck I'm
nudging Chub,  "Chubby, we're home," then I shake him a little and without opening
his eyes he  asks in a surprisingly clear voice, "Is that you, Dylan?" I
go, "Yes. We're  home and I want to get you inside." He says, "Okay," and then
goes back to  sleep. Huh!
After a struggle  I get his seatbelt off, then says, "Help me, Chub!"  and
drag him  off the seat and onto his feet. With me holding him under both
arms I'm dragging  and staggering with him into the finished basement then
kicking the  door closed behind me. I'm like, "Here come some steps, Chub. We're
going up the  steps." He asks, "Where are we?" His breath smells like
bourbon. I go, "Like I  just said, we're home going up some steps," and he helps
but won't open his  eyes because he's still basically sleeping.

It's a struggle and I  snort out a laugh at how stupid we must look. When I
finally get him in my  bedroom there's sweat's dripping off my forehead.

Flopping him on my bed,  then dragging his legs onto the bed, I'm like, "Well
okay then," and lift his  head to get a pillow under it. Whew! Success! But
wait, I should take his coat  off so he'll be more comfortable. He's very
movable, his body's limber and loose  so it's less trouble getting his coat
off than I thought it would be. That's  about all I can do for him now though.

Patting his head, I say, "I'll check  in with you later," not that he heard
me.

Now it's down to the  basement and out to the garage where I close the
passenger door on the  Jeep and then the garage door. After making sure I
haven't forgotten  anything I go back upstairs to the living room feeling good
about handling  that situation. Sitting on the sofa I'm texting my Mom: 'We're
home.  Chub's in my bed taking a nap. I'll stop in to say hello this
evening. Love you!  She'll tell Tris we're both safely home, so it's all  good.

Next I text Rob: 'Just got home. What time are you picking me  up? Love you!'
It's ten-minutes-of-five so he's probably still at the  office. Then I get an
idea and go back to my bedroom for the extra  blanket from the closet to
put over Chubby. Staring at him I'm thinking he looks  so peaceful. Huh,
Chubby and I have the same nose and the  same narrow eyebrows and longish
eyelashes that our dad had. We know  because we've studied his picture a hundred
times, sometimes with the help  of a magnifying glass. The other thing the
three of us have in common  is our grin. Our grin looks exactly the same.

Actually, over all,  Chubby looks more like our dad than I do.  Whoa, now
Chubby's eyes are  moving under his eyelids. That's weird looking! I think it means
he's  dreaming.

I hear my cellphone  ping and touch my pocket where I usually have it but
nope, I left it on the  coffee table in front of the sofa. I get it and see a
text from Rob: 'Is 7  o'clock okay? Can't wait to see you! Love you!!' Huh,
yeah that's a perfect  time and I text that to Rob. I've still got my coat
on so I get a beer from the  refrigerator to take out on the balcony for a
cigarette and to pat myself  on the back for taking care of everything. I
decide that all those things I  thought about while driving home need to be put
on hold for now. What I want to  do is enjoy getting away from college for
a while and concentrate on  my Framingham life. I intend spending as much
time with Rob and Chubby as I can.  As for the Moms we'll see them like we
have for most of our lives. It'll  be before they go to work, and during Sunday
brunches and  dinners. Now that they're taking a Saturday off each month
we'll see then  that day too, and of course Christmas and New Years. The Mom's
 fiancés,  Bud and Rider, are now part of my life and that's a good thing.

Chubby and I  like both brothers and we like that they're successful owners
of their own  business. It's a boring business, one involving insurance and
investment  vehicles like annuities and whatever else. Not something I'd
ever want to do for  a living myself but they seem to like it just fine.

Finished my cigarette  I'm back inside sitting at the kitchen bar finishing
my can of beer. The  fact I was able to have a smoke and a beer tells me my
hangover has been  conquered. Done the beer I'm lying on the sofa thinking
I'd kinda like to see  Sonny and, crazily enough, Dodger's boyfriend,
Vinnie. Damn, both of those boys  remind me of haircuts and sex. Whenever I've
given Vinnie a haircut,  afterwards he fucks me the way Dodger does it. Ha ha,
and yeah I know it's  nuts. I give Sonny haircuts too and his red hair is
very much like John  Smith's although Sonny has very little in the way of
freckles. With Sonny it's  him giving me haircuts that I'm mostly thinking about
because he can get my  haircut-fetish red hot and smoking. Well yeah, but
that's a damn good  reason not to see Sonny. He's kinda like Dodger in that
he can  manipulate, in the nicest ways, to get what he wants. So, I'll need
to stay  clear of Sonny if I want to keep this long hair.

You know what? The  person I really want to see is Willie. He'll be home
from college for Christmas  break too. It's probably called Winter break at
Colgate where he goes to  college. Yeah, Willie and I have quite a history
together although mostly  as seventeen and eighteen-year-old boys, then only
sporadically  after that including last summer. I half expect he'll knock on
my door at  any time and say, "C'mon, Dylan, let's spend the weekend in
Bermuda, or the  South of France is another place he'd want to go... ha ha. While
thinking about  Willie I doze off for a nap.

My eyes pop open and I  grab my ever-present cellphone to check the time:
it's five-after-six. Okay, no  problem. Shaking myself awake I get up and go
into the bedroom finding Chubby  still sleeping soundly. I quietly get my
toiletry kid off the bureau and then  clean boxer shorts from the bureau drawe
r and go into the bathroom. Closing the  door, I turn on the light and take
a good long piss, aaaah! After a long shower  I'm brushing my teeth and
closely studying my face in the mirror. I've got  a pale mustache for sure,
although nothing else in the way of a beard  that's worth mentioning.

Reluctantly I decide to shave hoping it's true  what someone told me. They claim after
shaving the whiskers will come  in a little more prominently. Well I hope
not every time because there'll  be a point when I don't want more of a
mustache than I've got. What I want is a  skimpy beard that I can let go two or
three days and have that, 'I  don't give a fuck', look. After shaving I
quietly start getting dressed in the  bedroom. Uh oh, Chubby flops on his side
and with his eyes still toughly  closed, says, "Goooletolamush." Hmmm? He
continues sleeping soundly after  getting that off his mind.

Naturally I want  to look as good as I can for Rob. Checking the shirts
hanging in my closet  I choose a white cotton shirt with flaps and buttons on
each pocket  over my pecs, plus buttoned epaulettes on the shoulders. I don't
know, but  I think it's a very cool shirt made of a good fabric that looks
good tucked-in  at the waist with a slight overhang at my belt. I've a very
flat stomach so  that over-hang emphasizes that fact. It'd look like shit on
a guy with a fat  belly though. Then a pair of light tan cargo khakis and
brown socks. I'm  looking at the floor of my closet seeing a pair of $65
Skechers brown  clunky shoes that I bought on sale for $35 at Sears. I'm gonna
wears these  because they have an inch-thick sole giving me another  inch in
height. Plus, and this is the honest to God's truth, they're called  'Ally
Cat Leather Casual Shoes by Skechers.' So that's what I'm wearing  along with
my leather bracelet, cross necklace, and sports watch that  are all gifts
from one Willie Worthington. Oh yeah, and my little matching  hoop earrings.

On my right ring finger is the ring Chubby gave me  for my last birthday and
on the other ring-finger is Rob's friendship  ring, or lover's ring as I
call it.

Holy fuck, I'm  looking good! Yep, except now what the fuck do I do with my
hair? The only  worthwhile cutting done by Golden was cutting the hairs
that hung over my ears.  The hair is off my ears now so that's good but I still
have a mop of  wavy hair that stops abruptly at my neck line where Golden
razored a  straight hairline across the back of my head. I can't see that so
I'm trying to  put it out of my mind and concentrate on the hair I can see.

Combing it straight  back seems to be too affected a look, too Hollywood.

Some guys can get  away with that but not me. Combing it with a part in the
middle makes me laugh  at myself although some guys can pull that off too. I
simply don't have the  experience with hair four-inches-long to feel
comfortable styling it. I don't  like using hair gel so I finally settle on a part
on the left side with bangs  that drops across my eyes every now and then
that I need to sweep to the  side with my fingers. It's so dense it stays there
for a few minutes until  I move my head too fast and my bangs come across
my eyes again. It's a pain in  the ass while at the same time I think it's
kinda cool too.

There's the  doorbell! My heart goes  pitter-patter and a grin breaks out
on my face. Rob's here! I open the door and  he looks so good! So cutely
handsome with his blond hair and blue eyes. He's  wearing a light brown winter
jacked with a hood that he's just pushed off his  head. I really like the
haircut I gave him after that Spanish-speaking-asshole  fucked-up his hair.

Rob's haircut is the one I'd give younger guys, but  it's still working for
Robby at age twenty-one. He's got light-brown  dessert boots on and tan cargo
khakis almost identical to mine. Under the jacket  he's wearing a pale-blue,
tucked-in, long-sleeve Polo shirt. I can see  the Polo emblem so I know it's
Polo. The best thing about him though is his  smile as he says, "Hi,
Dylan," and then steps inside pushing the door  closed behind him. We nod at each
other grinning and then we hug. I put my  arms inside his open jacket and
hug him around the waist. He gives me a tight  hug then puts a hand on each of
my cheeks and kisses me sweetly on the  lips. Then we do a lover's kiss for
fifteen seconds and when he pulls his head  back a little, asking, "Did you
grow an inch since I last saw you?" I go, "Yes,  I did. Oh, or maybe it my
Alley cat shoes," and we walk into the living room as  I tell him about the
shoes with him saying, "Those shoes are perfectly named for  you."

Taking his jacket off  and hanging it up, I'm like, "My brother's
sleeping-off a load on my bed so we  need to keep that in mind. Robby puts his arms
around my waist, murmuring, "I'll  try," and we kiss again. There's a huge
difference kissing Rob as compared to  kissing anyone else. Robby's lips are
awesome for kissing. Awesome lips so pink  and bow-shaped. Lips like sugar
with candy kisses, as the song goes. And there's  always his sexy
indescribable personal scent too. Our kiss ends and we rub noses  as I murmur, "I've
missed you, Rob. I can't sleep right without you in bed with  me." He grins,
"Me either, baby," and we kiss again as my pecker starts getting  hard. After
our kiss we hug with the sides of our faces rubbing together. Rob's  hands
rub up and down my back and then with his lips on my ear, he quietly  says,
"C'mon down cellar, Dylan, I need you so bad it hurts  my heart." I nod my
head and, a little out of breath, mumble, "Yes, downstairs,  Rob."

He takes my hand and it  feels so different than when John Smith was
drunkenly holding hands with me last  night. Everything I do with Robby feels
different and so much more meaningful I  can't even explain it. The feel of his
palm against mine gives me shivers and I squeeze his  hand making him look
over and grin, saying, "I love you too, Dylan." There's an  aura around us
like I never experience with anyone else. It makes everything we  do together
seem more important and it's almost how I'd assume a religious  experience
would be like. It's thrilling to me and magical and I can only hope  Robby
senses it too.

At the bottom of the  stairs I lean against him and try absorbing his being
into my heart. It's crazy  and almost scary how sometimes I can't love and
adore him enough. He goes, "Oh,  that's nice, babe. Thank you for making me
feel your love," and he lifts my head  with a finger under my chin to kiss
my lips softly and I could cry I'm so happy  to be with him again. I don't
know why being with Rob sometimes feels  extra-special like this. I can't
predict when my emotions will get  carried-away, but it's wonderful to feel the
way I do right now. Yes, it's  magical to be in love the way I'm in love
with him. It's something so  precious my body oozes with desire for him as I
murmur his name, "Robby..."  He says, "Me too, Dylan," and then nudges me to
get me moving, still clinging to  him. We're heading toward the half bath.

Inside Rob closes the door  and, gasping he says, "Drop you pants, babe," and
he takes his boner out  through the fly of his cargo pants and turns me
around. I go, "Oooh,  ummm."

I'm shaking with  arousal leaning forward to hold onto the rim of the of
the sink. Rob  humps the head of his cock up my ass with my back arching as we
both moan,  "Aaaah, mmmm.... oooh." His hands go under my shirt pushing it
up my back, then  both hands slide down my sides until he grips my hips
pulling me back onto  his hard cock. It burns deliciously and I shudder at the
pleasure of it all. I'd  know the feel of Robby's cock inside me if I hadn't
felt it for twenty-five  years... God forbid! It's a fat shortish-size penis
that always feels much  larger than it is. When his crotch is tight against
my buttocks he leaves  it there allowing the walls of my rectum to expand
and better accommodate  what comes next. Sure, there's a little pain from my
rectum but that's to  remind me how important rectums are. Rob rubs his
hands up and down  under my shirt. The feel of his palms on my skin gives me del
icious shivers as I  tighten the muscles in my buttocks and hear him groan,
"Mmmm, ooooh," then he  begins fucking my ass fast and hard jolting my body
with every thrust. The  bathroom is filled with, "Slapslapslap," sounds as
sensations of pleasure  explode inside me and all around the sensitive lips
of my  asshole.

The last six months or  so my feelings for Rob topped-out at a new level
and I can't get enough of him.  Being fucked up the ass by Robby is the
epitome, the very pinnacle of sexual  pleasure for me. It's become a hungry need
inside me, a craving I feel  after three years of being fucked by his cock
with it fat girth and  its hard head with  pronounced flaring at the bottom,
or coronal ridge as it's called. The  flared bottom of the penis head
prevents over-excited withdrawals as it catches  onto the tight lips of my anus
pulling the lips out and setting off  millions of pleasure nerve endings before
he thrust his boner back inside  doubling the pleasure.

I don't just feel the  incredible sensations his boner gives me stimulating
the nerve ending around my  anus and my super-sensitized prostate gland,
but I see it in my mind's  eye as well. I see his boner pull out of my ass
shiny with precum and fat  and hard with the big vein pale purple and swollen.

It pulls back until the  flared neck catches onto and distends the lips of
my anus almost pulling  free, but not quite. Robby's hips keep perfect time
smoothly pushing and  pulling his hard organ back and forth in my rectum. He
pulls it  back until it's less than a millimeter from coming completely out
of  my ass and then it's shoved back in and the neck disappears followed  by
the shaft stretching my rectum with a million nerve ending tingling and
sizzling while instantaneously the fat hard head slides over my prostate
making me moan and shudder with pleasure. The head continues up my bowels
spreading the walls all the way up inside me until Rob's pubic hairs  flattened
as the top of his legs and his belly smack against my buttocks,  "Slap," and
then the shaft immediately reappears as he pulls it back out  sliding
continuously over by prostate gland and then the head adds additional  pressure
leaving my prostate gland vibrating with sexual pleasure  as it slides by
tightly. Continuous, "Slapslapslap," sounds until I'm in  ecstasy moaning
Robby's name and asking for more.

We're grunting and  moaning along with the, "Slapslapslasp," sounds for two
minutes and then  Rob's making a desperate whining sound humping extra hard
against my butt  cheeks fully impaling me as his stream of jism splashes
off the walls of my  bowels. I squeal too loudly humping my hips with cum
shooting out of my  wood-hard cock and spattering against the front of the sink,
and  then again and again with bright lights blaring behind my eyes. Now
I'm  shuddering and shaking hardly believing how incredible that was. "Oooh,
oooh,  aaah," with breathy exhales from Robby as he slides his cock slowly
back and  forth in my sloppy rectum before sighing and backing up pulling his
cock from  my ass. Rob plops down on the toilet seat lid sighing. I stay
leaning over the  sink with my head hanging as I inhale deeply and my heart
pounds as the last  zipping climactic sensations around my groin fade  away.

Straightening up I let  out a long exhale and turn around seeing Robby on
the toilet lid leaning over  with his forearms resting on his thighs. His
eyes look up at me and we grin  at each other. I chuckle mumbling, "Damn, that
was good sex!" Out of breath  Robby's still grinning and then muttering, "I
needed that so fucking bad it's  not even funny. Ooooh, man, I feel better
now." I'm nodding my head, murmuring,  "Me too, Rob. Holy shit, you have no
idea how aroused I was from seeing,  hugging, and kissing you. No idea." He's
unrolling a lot of toilet paper,  saying, "Oh, I have an idea alright. I
felt the same way and almost creamed my  jeans during our short make-out."

Feeling smug about him  wanting me as badly as I wanted him, I mumble, "You
are such a stud, boyfriend.  And fast too!" He goes, "Don't make fun of me,
I couldn't help myself. I mean  you're so sexy hot and yummy." I go,
"Yummy," and he's like, "It's a  word. Turn around again, babe, and I'll wipe your
ass for you." I turn  around and stick my ass out. He's wiping his cum off
my ass as I'm saying,  "Hey, it's be cool if every time I used the toilet I
call for you to wipe my  ass." He goes, "Ewww! You realize some guys are
into that sort of  shitty thing, right?" I go, "So I've read, but not us thank
goodness."  Rob's wiping my ass and the inside of my right leg where his cum
drooled  out of my ass, muttering, "Whoa, babe, that was a big load I shot
up your cute  ass," and he leans over to kiss each of my pink hairless butt
cheeks. I  murmur, "It's true love when your boyfriend kisses the ass he
just fucked."  Robby pats my ass as he stands-up, saying, "That ass of your's
is incredibly  important to me. I should kiss it more often."

We put ourselves back  together, much calmer now that we've made love. As
we go upstairs Robby's  arm is across my shoulders with him saying, "I made
dinner reservations  at..." and I interrupt, asking, "Can we first stop at my
 Mom's restaurant so I can say, 'Hello'. I'll be quick about it." He
squeezes my shoulders, saying, "If you hadn't interrupted me you'd know that's
where I made the dinner reservation. The restaurant your mom waitresses at."

I  go, "You are so thoughtful! Thanks, Rob." As we're putting our coats on
in the  foyer, I say, "Ya know, I don't believe I've ever eaten there as a
regular  customer. It's always been at a special table they set-up for Chubby
and me near  the kitchen door." He goes, "Well, we're paying customers
tonight so they better  not give us a table next to the kitchen door." I grin at
him, "I love you,  Robby," and we hug again and do a three second kiss on
the lips. He goes, "I  know you do, baby. I love you more than I can put into
words, so we're even."  Before leaving I write a note with big letters on
the back of a  manila folder: CHUB,  WENT TO DINNER WITH ROB. I PUT YOUR
CLOTHES AND  OTHER STUFF AWAY. JEEP'S IN THE GARAGE. SEE YOU SUNDAY! and tape it
to  his winter coat
As we're going down the  steps to the street where Rob parked the pickup he
pushes my bangs away  from my eyes, asking, "Didn't you get a chance to get
over to Golden's  dorm before leaving?" I'm like, "Oh, I saw him alright.

Check out the back of my  head." He looks and goes, "Oh, yeah. Um, so why
didn't he finish your  haircut?" I go, "He did finish it. He asked me if I
wanted a trim and I said  'yes' and this is his idea of a trim." He gets that
frown on his face that  indicates disapproval so, trying to change the
subject, I'm like, "Whoa, it  feels like we're gonna get some snow!"

When we're in the  pickup I assume Robby's still thinking about my hair as
he absently mumbles,  "Oh, I checked the weather on my iPhone earlier today
and there wasn't  any mention of snow." He starts the engine and looks at
me, "Um, not to be  a pain-in-the-ass about it, but I wish you'd gotten a real
haircut. Ya know,  because of work on Monday." I'm like, "Rob, my hair is
perfectly acceptable like  it is, but here's what I'm thinking. You're done
mentoring Golden by now,  right?" He shrugs, "Yeah, I guess," and I go, "So
let's you and me do  haircuts for each other from now on. We can do them
whenever we want. You  know I'm an awesome barber. I mean I saved your disaster
of a haircut the  other day and you were getting, um, okay at haircutting by
the end of freshman  year. Whaddaya say?" He nods his head as we ease out
of the parking spot into  traffic, "You mean I'll finish the haircut Golden
started?" I shrug, "Um, I  didn't mean right now. Ya know, when we need
haircuts we'll do it for each  other. It's not like Golden enjoys doing haircuts.

In fact, he  doesn't."

Robby thinks some more,  then says, "Yeah, I agree. Golden does it as a
favor and wouldn't mind at all if  you didn't go to him. But for me, I like the
idea of showing the freshman  and sophomores I'm just one of the guys
though so I'll continue getting haircuts  from Golden, but you don't need to.

I'll do yours. Yeah, that'll be cool.  Tomorrow I'll do a complete haircut for
you. Hell, Golden already cut the  back and outlined around your ears so
that's a good head-start." Well that  didn't work out too good for me, did it?
He's still going to Golden for haircuts but he'll be  doing mine. Balls! Oh
well, I'll leave it at that for now. Rob looks at me,  "Do you agree, babe?"

I smile, "Oh yeah, sure thing,  Rob."

Damn, but I  gotta admit thinking about Robby cutting my hair gives me a
funny  buzzing in my nuts. I'm not sure if it's because of my fetish or if
it's  because Rob just sort of overrode my objection that my hair is okay as it
 is. Looking at him driving, I say, "What do you have in mind for my
haircut?" He  glances over, "I'm not sure, but you'll need to give me some general
 reminders about haircutting before I start, right? Then I'll decide what
to  do from there." I nod, "Uh huh." Damn, I think I'm kind of excited  about
this.

It's only a  ten-minute ride to the restaurant. Rob parks,  un-clicks his
seatbelt and leans over to give me a kiss. His fingers push my  hair off my
forehead again, then he says, "I'll give you a good  businessman's haircut.

I'm really glad you came up with this idea." We get out  of the pickup with
me wondering, 'A businessman's haircut?' Robby gets his arm  across my
shoulders as we walk up the sidewalk to the  restaurant's entrance. Squeezing me
against him, he says, "You make me so  happy, Dylan. I love taking care of
you." I'm like, "Yeah, um, you need to  do that, Rob." Then I ask, "Does my
Mom know we're coming here for dinner?"  He shrugs, "I didn't tell her. Just
spoke to the lady at the desk making the  reservation."

We wait for a party of  four to be seated and then the lady at the front
desk gives us a huge  smile, asking, "Can I help you?" Rob says, "Reservation
for Dickers." She taps  the computer and looks up with the same huge smile,
"This way boys." We follow  her to a table for two next to a window looking
out at the parking lot. She puts  menus down as I hear a squeal from the
back and look up to see Tris quickly  walking towards us. I stand and she hugs
me kissing my cheek, then asks, "Does  your Mom know you're here, Dylan?" I
shake my head, "I don't think so,  Tris, I just found out myself a little
while ago. Um, you  know my boyfriend, Rob Dickers, right?" He stands and
shakes Tris' hand once as  he's saying, "Nice to see you again, Mrs. Romero."

She goes, "You too, Rob."  Looking at me again, "How about your brother; where
is he?" I go, "Oh,  um, Chub's taking a nap. He didn't feel like going out
to dinner. All those  final exams and all, ya know?" She says, "Jeffrey's
staying in tonight? Oh my,  that's a first." I go, "I'm not at all sure he's
staying in after his nap.  Actually I'd be very surprised if he did." Tris
goes, "You're so sweet coming  over to see your mom while my Jeffrey takes a
nap! He's gonna get  it."

I go, "Ha ha, yeah,  that Chubby!" She says,  "Oh, did your Mom tell you my
boyfriend, Bud, is taking all of  us out to the Hilton for brunch
tomorrow." I go, "Awesome!" and she looks  at Rob, "You're always invited too, Rob."

He says, "Thank you, I'd love to join you guys,"  and she says, "Well, I've
got to hustle this drink order to the bar. You two are  so handsome and I
love your long wavy hair, Dylan. It's a nice change,  hon. Wait'll your Mom
hears you're dining with us  tonight." As she walks away a lady with a tight
gray permanent asks Tris, "Who  are those handsome boys, Tris?"  Tris stops
at that table and I assume  tells her. Both Tris and Mom have regular
customers that have become  like friends of theirs over the years. Both Moms make
friends with  everybody anyway.

I say to Rob, "Good  deal! Brunch at the Hilton means Chub and I don't need
to do the brunch  tomorrow. You're coming with us, right Rob?" He says,
"Definitely! The Hilton's  Sunday brunch is legendary and I like it when you
and I can do things with each  other's families. We're a couple and we're
going to get married, so..." I nod my  head thinking that I like it much better
this way; when he's with my  family. Our waitress comes over with glasses of
ice water, saying, "Good  evening, guys, I'm Terry. I'll be your server
tonight. Can I get you a  soft-drink while you decide what you're having for
dinner?" As he's getting his  wallet out, Rob says, "No thanks on the soft
drinks, but we'll both have VO  Manhattans straight up. Here's my ID." I'm
getting mine out and when she's done  looking at Rob's she looks at mine. Then
looks up at me, "Are you Dee's son?" I  nod, "Yep, she's my Mom," and Terry
goes. "My goodness, you are, ah, really  something. Um, yes, two VO
Manhattans coming up. Nice to finally meet you,  Dylan."

As she goes off I see  my Mom coming out of the kitchen in the back of the
room carrying a tray the way  waiters and waitresses carry trays of food.

Seeing her I can't help but  smile. She doesn't see me though. I watch her
serve a table of four and then say  something to the customers with her pretty
smile. Tris goes over to  Mom presumably to tell her I'm here. Tris is short
so my  Mom leans her head down a little to hear what Tris is saying in this
 noisy restaurant. Mom looks up and over at me and we both smile as she
comes in  a bee-line for our table.  I stand up so we can hug and kiss with
Mom saying, "What a wonderful surprise! Oh Dylan, you look so handsome! I
don't believe I've seen your hair this long since you were seven or eight
years old," and she hugs me again. I say, "Rob surprised me with reservations
for dinner here." Mom lets go of me as Robby half stands and Mom hugs him,
"Robby, thank you for bringing my boy to see me." She turns to me and says,
"Tris' lover-boy, Bud, is treating us all to brunch tomorrow at the
Hilton." I nod, "Tris told us and invited Rob." My Mom pats Rob's shoulder,  "Rob's
automatically invited to anything our families are doing. It's so nice to
see you, Rob," and to me, "You too sweetheart," and I get another hug as I'm
 sitting down.

Mom says, "I can't  neglect my tables, but it made my night seeing you
both." She takes off but  needs to stop at three or four tables telling familiar
customers that her son's  here. Rob and I get gawked at for a while making
me think that this is what it  must be like being a celebrity with strangers
gawking and talking about you. Our  drinks arrive and Terry says, "Enjoy.

I'll get you some rolls and butter while  you look at the menu." When she
goes off Rob says, "Is she giving us the bum's  rush? She keeps suggesting we
look at the menu." I shrug, "Don't matter if she's  trying to rush us or not;
we'll go as fast or slow as we  want."

Robby picks up his  Manhattan and I do too. He clinks with my glass,
saying, "Here's to being  together again," and I say, "Cool," and we both take a
sip. A Manhattan is not  as bad as a shot because it's very cold after being
shaken with a lot of ice.  Also the ice dilutes it slightly and there's
sweet vermouth further  diluting the whiskey. I'm not implying it's good though.

It's still  basically straight liquor. Rob puts the glass down making a
'face' saying,  "Good, huh?" I go, "No," and we both laugh. Rob says, "It's
tradition or  something to order a cocktail before dinner in a restaurant." I'm
like, "I've  got no problem with it at all. You and I have been ordering
cocktails at  Dino Italian Restaurant for the last year and a half. It's more
fun being legal  age though."

We look at our menus as  Terry puts rolls and a ball of butter on the
table, saying, "I'll be back in a  couple of minutes." Rob says, "We're not in a
rush, Terry." She says, "Take as  much time as you want, boys. I'm in no
rush either." She leaves and I say, "She  isn't as nice as the other
waitresses. I think she's new too." We go back to  looking at the menu until Rob says,
"Do you mind if I order for both of us,  babe?" I shrug, "Not at all," and
he says, "They have a special tonight. It's  for two and called
Chateaubriand served with a red wine and mushroom reduction."  I go, "Is it beef?" and
Rob says, "Yes, it's the center section of beef  tenderloin which is
supposedly the tenderest part." I nod, "You're my man,  Rob. You order for us." He
nods, grinning and saying, "That's right,  baby, I'm your man and don't you
forget it." I ask, "What's the  chateau-thingie come with," and he looks at
the menu, saying, "Roasted  baby Bliss potatoes and a vegetable medley." I
take another sip of my  Manhattan and then grab a roll as Rob says, "So I'll
order that medium well." I  go, "No-no! Medium rare, Rob." He goes, "Hey, I'm
your man," and I  go, "Except when it comes to sharing
Chateau-what-you-said. Good beef needs to  be medium rare."

After  taking a drink from his Manhattan Robby says, "Okay. Medium rare,"

then he goes,  "You're working with me next week, right?" I go, "No, I'm
working for you  next week. You're my boss." He goes, "You like me being your
boss, don't  you?" I nod,  "Why yes I do, boss." He grins, "Yeah, I like it
too." Another larger sip of my  drink and I go, "Will you come with me to the
Natick Mall tomorrow after  brunch? I need to buy another sports coat and
pants." He goes, "Sure, I'll come  with you but you should buy a suit. Then
you'll have both." I go, "Okay, I'll  buy a suit, but will they do the
alterations the same day? My sport coat will be  at the cleaners." Rob's like, "You
don't have another one?" I shake my head,  then remember Willie buying me
an expensive suit some time before I went  to Georgia. Where the fuck is it
though? Maybe in got in his carry-all luggage. It sure isn't here. I
mutter, "No!" Then say  emphatically, "And why would I? When do we ever need a
suit or sports coat  except for work and, um, most work places don't require
their employees to  wear suits nowadays." He says, "Well dad's old fashioned
about  that."

We both finish our  drinks and Rob holds his hand up when he sees Terry.

She comes over and Rob  says, "Two more Manhattans please." She takes our
glasses as I'm buttering a  roll, "So will they alter a suit the same day?"

Robby shrugs, "No, probably  not, but you can wear one of my sports coats. We're
the same size." I go,  "Okay. After I buy a suit we'll go to your house and
I'll borrow what I need for  work." He goes, "While we're at it lets buy a
couple of ties, and I need to do  your haircut as well. What time will the
brunch be over?" I shrug, "I don't  know. Well, by two o'clock for sure." He
goes, "Okay, we can fit everything in  no problem." Then he reaches over and
holds my hand, "I'm so happy we're doing  everything together. The last
four days being away from you sucked and I  hated it," I go, "Um, you were
hooking-up with that neighborhood guy who you  haven't seen for like eight
years, right?" He looks stern, "Dylan!" I go, "What?  You said you'd..." then I
stop as the waitress places our second drinks on the  table, saying, "No
rush, fellows. Have you decided on dinner?" Rob goes, "Yes,  we'll have the
Chateaubriand for two." She says, "Excellent choice.  We don't offer it very
often so you're smart choosing it. How would you  like it?" Rob says, "Medium,
ah, rare." She says, "Perfect. Anyone who orders a  fine piece of tenderloin
like this and wants it medium or medium well doesn't  understand fine
beef." Rob goes, "Of course, and could we have a Caesar  salad to start. We'll
split that as well." Terry goes, "Very good. The beef is  cooked to order so
please be patient."

She goes off and I'm  like, "As I was saying... you told me you'd tell me
anything I wanted to know  about what's-his-name." He  makes a face, saying,
"And I will, but why are you making me? I don't want  to know every single
thing you've done the past four days." I nod my head, "Oh,  yeah, well you're
right, Rob, as usual." He says, "Good. What'd I miss being  away four
days," then he adds, "With the exception of any ally-catting that may  have gone
on." I say, "I'm reluctant to tell you this, but I think I  should." He
takes a swallow of his second Manhattan and says, "What is it?" I  take a deep
breath and then tell him what Golden told me about Frankie having a
boyfriend as far back as Halloween and how she never mentioned it to us, but
instead kept after Rob to make-out with her and then have sex. He's
flabbergasted. "What? You mean all her coming-on to me and hanging on me and  those
terrible make-outs she insisted on was done when she was going to bed with  some
guy?" I'm like, "That's what it looks like. What does she talk about on the
phone?" He shrugs, "Not much... so I stopped calling." I go, "I thought she
 liked talking to you on the phone." He shakes his head, "Why'd you think
that?"  I'm like, "I guess I just assumed it because you were calling  her."

Robby swallows some of  his drink thinking, then mumbles, "Jesus, I feel
like such an asshole. What a  fool! You tried to warn me too," I go, "Not
strongly enough. I thought maybe  with the girls at the apartment I'd become a
more socially rounded  person... or something." We both drinks some more and
eat some of our rolls. He  says, "Let's never talk about those two again,
okay?" I mutter, "You got it,  Rob," then I hesitantly mumble, "But do you
really think we need to do the  haircut tomorrow? I mean, both Tris and Mom
said how much they like my latest  hair style." Then I self-consciously push
the hair off my forehead again.  Rob goes, "Yeah, I really do need to do it
for you, Dylan. I'm trying to impress  my dad that I'm management material and
you're basically my first hire. I  won't go crazy on your hair, but it
needs to be much shorter and, um,  neater. Okay?" I reluctantly nod, "Okay, if
you don't go crazy on  it." He says, "This Manhattan is tasting better all
the time. Don'cha think?" I  go, "Yeah, I think the second one is sweeter than
the first." Rob says, "Maybe  some cherry juice was added."

We order a third drink  and it comes as our salad arrives. Robby and I eat
from off the same dish  in the middle of the table, but Terry comes back,
saying, "If I might make  suggestion," and she points to the extra dishes she
set on the table along with  the salad. "I'll put half on this extra dish if
you'd like." Robby and I both  blush nodding our heads with Rob mumbling,
"That's what we were gonna do.  We were just tasting it." I make a face at
him like, 'You don't need to  explain anything too her!' She separates the
Caesar salad and  puts a plate in front of each of us. Ignoring our third
Manhattan for the moment  we both eat the salad and gulp down ice water. Halfway
finished, I mumble,  "This is damn good, Rob." He agrees and we finish it
all. I go, "Those  fucking croutons rocked," and Rob says, "Garlic with the
parmesan  cheese I think."

Turning  our attention to the third Manhattans Rob says, "I wanted to have
wine  with our dinner, but do you think we should get a whole bottle? We're
celebrating kicking ass in our final exams." I go, "Oh, I thought we were
celebrating being together again." He goes, "That too. Whaddaya think about
the  wine?" I shrug, "We probably should only have a glass each, not a
bottle.  But you're right that we need wine with that fancy  sounded
chatter-thing." He laughs, "You're getting hammered." I shake my  head, "Only a little,"

then take another swallow of  my Manhattan.

We gulp the rest of our  third drinks when Terry pushes a cart to our
table. Huh, the Chateaubriand  is a small roast. She carves it at the table and
places half the slices on  each of our dinner plates overlapping the slices
slightly. After that she ladles  some sauce over it, saying, "I'll leave the
sauce here so you to help yourselves  to more." We both nod our heads and go
back to watching her. She has a  bowl of mixed vegetables and she serves
some to each of us, saying,  "This is table service, guys. We do it for this
meal and we also do it  for whole Dover sole that we debone at the table." We
both go,  "Huh." The vegetables are Italian squash slices, baby carrots
and broccoli. Lastly she serves each of us baby roasted potatoes.  Then,
saying, "Bon Appetit," she pushes the cart away as we mutter,  "Thank you."

For the next ten  minutes we mostly eat while nodding our heads at each
other. We've almost  cleared our plates when Robby says, "We forgot to order
wine." I go, "Oh, damn!  We should have had a glass of wine with this
delicious dinner. I gotta give it  up to you Rob, nice fuckin' choice!" He goes,
"I've never had this before, but I  saw it was for two, so..." I go, "Good call
but I  guess we should forget the wine since we're almost done  eating." He
says, "We'll get an Irish coffee with dessert," and then we finish
everything on our plates and even dip pieces of our rolls in the sauce  making us
both chuckle. I go, "We must look like idiots dipping in this gravy  boat."

He goes, "That's some good sauce right there, babe."

Our table is cleared by  a busboy who has quite a bit of peach fuzz on his
cheeks. I watch him for a  few seconds as he puts our dirty dishes on the
tray he's holding, then I ask,  "You mind if I ask how old you are?" He says,
"No, I don't mind you asking," and walks  off without telling me his age.

Robby says, "Asshole!" But he said it a  little too loudly and a few people
look over from tables around us. Trying not  to laugh out loud I'm doing loud
fake coughs into my cloth napkin. Robby's  grinning, mumbling, "I guess I
said that too loud." I go, "That kid was  about fifteen and already he's
getting a beard." Robby says,  "Wait'll you see when I let my beard grow during
the second semester. It's coming in fast now." I go, "Oh, God help me!
You're already the sexiest guy east of the Mississippi so be still my balls
imagining you with a beard too." He says, "Oh, it's not a full beard by a  long
shot but, well you'll see." I go, "I don't want to wait to see  it until
next year, Robby." He says, "Oh, that reminds me. I  was thinking of
something. I need to work the first two weeks of break  which takes us right up until
Christmas Eve. I wanted to ask if you would  work both weeks too because
after Christmas we could go away for like  three nights somewhere. Like some
warm place just you and me." I go, "Yes! That  sounds fantastic Rob. Let's do
it." He asks, "Will you work both weeks with me?"  I nod my head too fast,
"Yeah, sure."

Beaming, he reaches  across to hold my hand again, "Thanks, Dylan. We'll
have fun." I ask, "Where  will we go." He shrugs, "I'll surprise you but it'll
probably cost like  what you earn in a week." I go, "I don't care, I'm
bucks up." Ha, truth  is I didn't think about paying for the three-day trip at
first.  Willie's spoiled me in that regard. He always paid for everything. I
don't  mind paying my way though. This'll be great. Rob says, "I won't shave
even once  during our trip to someplace warm." We get chocolate mousse cake
with Irish  coffees for dessert and then Rob pays using his debit card and
I  sincerely thank him for dinner. I catch my Mom's eyes before leaving  and
we do another hug, then Rob and I are smoking cigarettes outside  leaning
against the pickup. He says, "What a great time that was with you, baby.  You
make me so fucking happy I can hardly believe it." I go, "You too, Rob, and
 thanks again for dinner."

Finished our smokes,  Rob asks, "Do you think we could go back to your
place?" I say,  "Absolutely! Are you spending the night?" He makes a 'face', "I
was thinking I  would but at the last minute I thought it'd be awkward. You
know,  seeing your mom in the morning after us two gay guys slept together."

I go,  "We sleep together at college," and he shrugs, "Yeah, of course, um,
but not  tonight. Hell, we can do it in your bed now, right? That's what
I'd like to  do anyway." Nodding my head, "Let's go then," and that's what we
do. Rob  parks in back of the condo and I punch in the code for the garage
door. When it  opens I see the Jeep is gone. Chubby's out for the night with
a bitch of a  hangover, but I'm sure he'll fight through it somehow.

Rob follows me through  the garage into the cellar and says, "We'll do your
haircut down here  tomorrow. You have the clippers and everything, right?"

I could lie and say no,  but I don't like lying to him. I go, "Yeah, not the
professional  ones though. At home I have the ones I bought at the
drugstore,  but they're really good too." He asks, "Are they down here?" Shaking my
head, I'm like, "No, in my bedroom." He says, "How about getting them and
you  can give me a little refresher course on how everything works."  I go,
"Oh, um, Rob... we're a little drunk and it's probably not a good idea  to
be around barber equipment in our condition. I'm sorry." He rubs my  head,
"Yeah, you're probably right. There's nothing to be sorry about." I  hold his
hand as we go upstairs with Rob saying, "Let's have a beer and another
smoke and talk a little more."

We leave our coats on  and I get two beers from the refrigerator. Out on
the balcony Robby goes,  "Burrrr, it's really getting to be winter. " Leaning
against his  side, I ask, "What will I be doing at work?" He says, "I'm
afraid it's be grunt work in the supply room for a couple of days, then I  have
lots of computer work for you. I'll set you up at a desk with a  computer
in my office or next to it." If I'm going to be doing grunt  work, why do I
need to wear a sports coat? Avoiding an argument though  I'll save that
question for later.

Robby says "Come  here, Dylan," and I step over to him so he can put his
arm around the back of my  waist squeezing and saying, "I like to feel you so
I know you're real and not a  dream." I lean against him inhaling his scent
feeling good. We drink  and smoke huddled together. It's a little windy
which isn't too pleasant but  Rob's got an arm around  me. Every thirty seconds
he brushes the hair out of my eyes using the hand he's  holding the beer can
with. His cigarette he leaves between his lips the way  John Smith smokes
sometimes. Rob takes the cigarette out, saying, "Guess  what the first hairs
I'm cutting tomorrow will be." I go, "I can't imagine," and  he laughs,
"You'll know first thing, baby. I love this idea of yours by the  way."

Personally I'm thinking less of my idea by the minute except it makes my  balls
tingle thinking about Robby giving me a haircut again. I mumble, "I  actually
was thinking we'd both do the haircuts. For each other I mean." He  nods,
"Yeah, I know, but for next semester I'll stay with Golden. After that  though
we'll be doing haircuts for each other like you want. Compromise, right
baby?" I mutter, "I guess." I like that there's no equivocation with him  about
the haircuts; he said basically he knows what I'd prefer but  we're doing
what he wants.

Done our smokes we put  the half cans of beer on the little round table and
make-out for  a while before Robby says, "C'mon inside. We'll  get
undressed and get in bed." That sounds good. We finish our beers getting  undressed
then do some necessary stuff in the bathroom before climbing  into bed. Rob
goes, "Get over here, Dylan," which is the correct way to do  things. If he
came scooting over to me that wouldn't be taking-charge.  Capturing my arms
against my sides Rob hug me against his naked body.  Oh fuck, does that ever
feel good. Rubbing your naked body against a hot  guy's naked body is such
a turn-on and Robby has an extremely hot body. It's  hard but smooth and
feels spectacular as our packages tumble  around together as we roll around
kissing and licking. The constant contact  is so arousing and so are our
sucking lips and tongues that  are licking and moving from one mouth to another.

Quiet moans of arousal as  our sex organs get very hard and leaky.

Our hands are  constantly massaging each other and then there's fingers in
each other's  hair as we're almost wrestling and getting sweaty in the
process.  We take turns sucking each other's hard cock, then Robby tries starting
a hickey  but I wiggle out of his hold and Rob ends up on his stomach.

Without  thinking about it I somehow have the head of my hard boner halfway past
 his sphincter muscle as he stops struggling and moans, "Oooh, Dylan,"  and
I hump the head inside him as Rob pushes up his ass, moaning, "Do me  hard,
oooh, mmmm." I already feel my orgasm percolating as I thrust my  hard cock
head and four inches of shaft up his ass. He groans,  "Aaaah, aaah,
yeaaaah," and I thrust the rest of my boner up his ass. It's  tight and I'm really
in there with my shaved groin tight against his  hard butt cheeks. Rob's
back is arched as he holds his breath, them  mutters, "Hurts." Ignoring that I
hump against his buttocks a few times and  then pull by boner back until I
see half the head before shoving it back in  hard. His back arches again as
he makes  a wimpy sound.

Grinning to myself I  get some of Rob's hair that's just long enough to
pull his head up off the  pillow like John Smith does to me. Then keeping his
head up, I begin  fucking him just as fast and hard as he fucked me a few
hours ago. Robby's  moaning and humping his ass back up at my trusting boner.

His moans are  sexy sounding and his body is constantly in motion. Letting go
of his hair his  face goes side to side with mine as his legs sweep
sideways  spastically on the sheet and his arms hug the pillow. It's,
"Slap,slap,slap,slap," as incredible spikes of pleasure sensation  soar off the head of
my  boner and up and down the hard shaft and all around my groin. It's a
short  three or four minutes before my eyes seem to cross as my breath catches
just before I squeal humping against his buttocks with cum streaming from
the head of my vibrating cock filling Robby up with my  creamy cum. Robby's
bucking up and gasping as his climax blows out onto the bed and then I'm
like, "What the...?" as I lay on his sweaty back with my heart pounding
against  it. For a second during climax I didn't know who I was fucking, and that
 shouldn't be. That's not right except this wasn't lover's sex; you always
know who you're with during lover's sex. This was rough and tumble sex for
the sheer pleasure of it.

Catching my  breath I push up on my  arms lifting off Robby's back and fuck
his ass in my slippery jism for  another ninety-seconds before pulling my
now softening cock out of his  ass and flop over on my back next to Rob who's
got his eyes closed  while sighing contentedly. I run my fingers through
his damp hair mumbling,  "That was random." Rob turn his head to face me and
opens his eyes. He smiles  and says, "Ooooh, baby, that was hot and sexy!
Damn, you fuck too good. You  must be practicing on someone. Is it that Pony
kid?" I go, "What the fuck, Rob.  Do we talk about side-sex or don't we?" He
nods, "Yeah, we don't. You're right,"  then he gets up on his side, "That was
good though; don't ya think?" I go, "It  was better than good!" He says,
"Now you need to wipe my ass. Be as considerate  as I am with you." I go,
"Wipe your own ass. I'm the bad-ass dominant  type." He laughs, "You can't pull
that off." I make a 'face' mumbling, "I know,"  and hop up to get some
Kleenex off the bureau to wipe my cum off Rob's  ass.

As I'm doing that I'm  real curious if during his side-sex Rob's on the
bottom most of the  time. Some day when we're comfortably married we'll
probably tell each  other our exploits during side-sex and compare notes. Will we
be honest  about it though? We both might be hesitant to admit the volume. I
mean if we  both had the amount of side-sex I've had and, to a much lesser
degree, continue  having. Yeah, but I strongly suspect Robby has his fair
share. Hmmm, on the  other hand I can't imagine it's as much as me. That's a
thought I had  earlier but maybe I'm giving myself too much credit, or not
giving Robby enough.  The fact is neither of us knows for sure and it's not
something we worry all  that much about anymore. Rob used to worry about it
when he was calling me  a Tom-cat. That's old news though. Now he's convinced
of my love for  him. "There, Rob, I cleaned your ass good." He goes, "Do you
want to switch  places and do it again later?" I go, "I want to do it again
later but I'm not so  sure about switching places. He goes, "Oh boy!" Damn
that was random and hot!  Robby should have insisted on being the 'top'
though. Hmmm....

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

donnymumford@outlook.com

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

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

Donny  Mumford

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

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