Date: Fri, 26 May 2017 12:27:22 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE    Chapter  44

DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter  44

by  Donny Mumford


From the minute Rob  walked into the condo Saturday night until a couple of
minutes ago it has  been a fun, sexy, and exciting ride for us with only a
few bumps along  the way. Not really squabbles so much as a momentary
disagreement. Being with  Rob these past thirty-plus hours might even be a snippet
of our future  lives as a married couple. We're not married yet however so
I need to stop  acting like we are at times. Rob just went out the door
after we showered  together and no, we didn't have sex in the shower. We had
more than  our share of that from last night until just a little while before
we showered.  Our sex together is usually excellent and I'm not sure it could
be any  better. I've said that before though and it somehow did get better
so  I'll fasten my seat belt for the remainder of Christmas  break.

I'm lying in bed  and loving just about everything in my life right now. I
have  fairly short hair again but there's nothing new about that. It's not
absurdly short and some of the online websites have a name for the  haircut
Rob ended up doing for me. It's called a 'Princeton cut'  although they
don't say why. I like it okay but the best part was Rob being  my barber. I
didn't expect it would significantly escalate  my sexually-arousing haircut
fetish, but it did. Ironically I  didn't cum in my pants like I've done during
haircuts any number of times in the  past. Maybe I didn't spunk my pants
because I really wanted to have sex with Rob  after the haircut and my
subconscious mind saved my orgasm for  that.

Rob's actually  become better in some ways than my fantasized version of
him. His  low-key take-charge attitude works really well for me. He's never
overly bossy or arrogant and never takes advantage of a situation. I'm  not
sure if he realizes why I'm so hot for him and I'm not sure myself why that
is. Who the fuck knows why we love or are sexually aroused by one and not
another. He's noticed the change in my affection though and I  know this
because he's told me as much, and he's quite pleased about  it too. It's
doubtful that he understands why I'm so  hell-bent on him being our leader though
and I  only recently figured it out myself. It has to do with Chubby and me
basically raising ourselves with almost no adult supervise. That is until
things  changed...

During my senior  year of high school, I was aware something was missing
but didn't know what  it was. A clue to the missing something manifested
itself in  my willingness to follow Willie in all the crazy shit he got us  into.

I didn't know then but I've come to believe that I liked  being with Willie
because those nutty ideas were all his, and  he took-charge of everything
that had anything to do with them.  Willie took-charge of everything we ever
did together and I got  caught-up in that for quite a while. In other words,
the missing  something was the leadership role Chubby played in my life and
 subconsciously I saw some of that in Willie. I'd been under the
impression for years that Chubby and I were equal partners  navigating our way
through our pre-teen and teen years together, but in  hindsight that's not how it
happened.

Yes, we did do  absolutely everything together until everything changed
that summer  after junior year when from necessity we were apart. I now realize
 that Chubby had been, in effect, the adult in my life back then. He was
always the one who subtly was in-charge of us. He deciding what we'd  do,
like when we'd go home, when we needed to ride our bikes to shop for food,  and
every other fucking thing that needed to be decided. I thought nothing  of
it at the time; it was just the way it was and I felt safe and  comfortable
within that environment. Then when we weren't together I  began to have this
sense that there was something amiss,  as I mentioned earlier. It made me
uneasy. In short I've been  searching for someone to replace Chubby full time
and I'm thinking Rob  could be that missing piece of my puzzle. I like him
being in-charge. Yeah,  although only yesterday I had this thought that
maybe I don't want him totally  in charge the way I once thought I did. Maybe
for our married life  together it'll be closer to, um, something else I
haven't figured  out yet. I need to evaluate and formulate this new thinking into
something  concrete. I have over a year in which to do that.

And  then there's the other thing: my desire to be submissive during sex.

For  whatever reason I like a dominant sex partner. Why is that? My
self-analysis goes  like this: Maybe I was programmed this way from the manner in
which fat  Carl introduced me to gay sex. I became totally dependent on him
for sex.  He was my sexual mentor and he became very dominant with me. Of
course I  didn't know any other way at the time. From him I learned to play my
submissive role very well because it's how I thought I was supposed to act.

Later Carl sadistically rejected me knowing I'd grovel for him to  fuck me,
and I did for a while. Simply put, I was programmed to be  submissive to him
if I wanted sex... and maybe programmed for life. It was  blatantly obvious
how much I liked sex once I was exposed to it so he used  my insatiable
hunger for it against me. On the other hand, maybe that  situation had nothing
to do with me being submissive during sex. I'm  only an inexperienced
amateur psychologist so  what do I know? I don't really care either. It won't
change what I  like and I like being a submissive 'bottom'. That's how I like it
best  anyway. Topping's hot too, but if I have my  choice....

Anyway the warm fuzzy  feelings I have for Rob continues percolating hotter
than ever. He was  wonderfully in-charge giving me this haircut. I can't
think of another example  of him being as decisive. His opinion carries some
weight with me because  Rob's who I want to impress the most. Sure this
haircut turned out to  be too short and not what either of us envisioned when he
started. This was  an unintentional screw-up due to Rob's lack of experience
but I still like how  he went about it. He did his best and made very few
excuses when it  didn't work-out. He wasn't hesitant or bumbling about it, he
simply forged-on  trying to correct his missteps. He told me if I wanted
him to be my barber he'd  need to have some say in the haircut I got. That's
the kind of thing I  like.

But it not just  the way Rob confidently tried giving me the haircut he
thinks looks good on  me. He's been wonderful about everything the entire
thirty-some hours  we were together. I love the way he treats me and I can always
feel  his love and how he's constantly looking out for me. We had fun
together as  well as having incredibly hot recreational sex and sweet lover's sex
 too. And I 'topped' one time as well, so lots of sex. I drift off to sleep
 this Sunday night thinking these very pleasant sexy thoughts of  Rob.

The alarm just went off  on this first day of my two weeks of working for
Rob. Getting out of bed  I'm looking forward to seeing him in a half-hour or
so. Looking out the window I  see it snowed last night making the world look
very clean, which I know it not  to be. Illusion is nice though...

sometimes. Doing my bathroom ritual, I look  repeatedly at myself in the mirror
checking out my new hairdo. My hair is very  clean after being shampooed about
four times in the last twenty-four hours  or so. I guess I'd have to say it's
looking very full-bodied  although I'm not real sure what that means.

Running my fingers from the front to  back in my head my hair feels so different
as compared to how it felt  yesterday morning. Like Rob said, this haircut
is no trouble. I comb the hair on  top to the side one time and it stays in
place.

In my bedroom I  get dressed wearing the black sport coat Rob lent me along
with  his pale-blue dress shirt and my own light-tan khakis. On my feet
are a pair of loafers I hardly ever wear. Tying my new striped tie, I leave
it loose thinking I'll pull up the knot when Robby gets here. I've got a
smallish hangover this morning and overall I'm not feeling great even  though
Rob and I both got a lot of sleep on and off all day Sunday. That  helped a
lot but I'm still feeling beat-up from staying up too late and  drinking too
much both Friday and Saturday nights. They'll be no booze at  all this week
for me! I gotta let my body recover.

Huh, on the kitchen  table is a package of a dozen sticky cinnamon buns.

Nice surprise and after  I take two Advil with orange juice I have two
cinnamon buns with  my coffee and then wash my face and hands again. I'll need to
bring my lunch  because the company only buys lunch for overtime employees,
like they did  that Saturday I worked there. Since I didn't think of lunch
until just now  I have no choice except to make two peanut butter and jelly
sandwiches.  What the hell, I add two cinnamon bums wrapped in Saran wrap,
plus a  bottle of Snapple in my lunch bag. Everything goes in my smaller
backpack along  with the bottle of Advil, a pullover sweater in case I'm working
someplace  chilly, and my Marlboro Lights along with a Bic lighter. I'm
looking  out the balcony's sliding glass doors watching for Robby to drive up
when I hear  my cellphone beep. It's a text from Rob: 'I'm two minutes away.

Meet me at  the back door.' After putting on my winter jacket, I feel foolish
wearing it over the sport coat so I take both coats off, put my winter
jacket back on and carry the sport coat. With my small backpack over one
shoulder I put on a baseball type cap that Chubby left here. On the front it
says: this is a hat.

Going down the steps to  the basement and then out thought the garage door
I stand in the  snow waiting for Rob. It's not snowing now but there's like
three inches of  pure white snow covering everything. It won't be any
problem for Rob's  pickup though. Here he comes now and I get that nervous/excited
feeling in  my stomach again. I'm telling myself to cool it and not overdo
anything with Rob. This morning he'll be in a work-related frame of mind
which is different than a fun and games frame of mind. He's Mister
Conscientious  where his job is concerned and I'll try to be that way too. Rob takes
his  present job very seriously which is a far cry from when we were
seventeen-year-old kids working our first job together at  Dickers Landscaping and
Design and falling in love at the same time. The job was  the second thing
on our minds; falling in love was the  first.

Rob drives the  pickup right next to me and I get in the passenger seat and
he rubs my head  saying, "Good morning, Dylan! Jesus, how awesome was the
last day and a  half?" I'm frowning as I take my pocket comb out re-combing
my hair, mumbling, "Yeah, I was  thinking about that myself just before you
got here, Rob, but don't mess-up  my friggin' hair." Putting on my seatbelt
and then grinning at Rob, I go, "I'm  liking my haircut more by the minute,
but don't muss it the fuck up, okay?" He  smiles reaching over to muss my
hair again but I pull my head away grinning and  muttering, "Asshole." Rob
says, "I like that haircut on you, baby."  And as he pulls away mumbling, "Heh
heh, I gotta remember not to call you  'baby' at work." I mutter, "Yeah, no
shit." That'd be  embarrassing!
The pickup doesn't  slide even once as Rob drives us down the steep
driveway to the main road. He  says, "I'll set you up with Terrance Niles this
morning. He's in the  basement of the old building where all the old files are
kept. You'll be  sorting through them to eliminate almost all of them. We
need someone's eyes on  each one though to be sure it's not a file that should
be given special  attention. Terrance will give you the details. It'll be
boring work and a  little dirty so I'm really sorry about that, but it's one
of many projects dad  wants out of the way before March when the
ground-breaking for the big  project takes place. Okay?" I nod, "Sure, Rob." The rest of
the drive he talks  about us having coffee breaks and lunches together all
week. Also I won't need to be the gopher running for everyone's  coffees
and lunches. That too is only for mostly management  working on weekends.

I'm nodding my head  like a bobble-head doll to each thing he says as I
stare at him feeling my  dick tightening up. Rob turns-me-on and gets me hard
without him even  knowing it. It's a strange feeling and I need to give
myself another silent  talking to: don't overdo my affection for him at work.

When I get a  chance to break into his do's and don't's, I ask him, "Are we
getting  together tonight after work?" He glances over grinning at me, "Of
course we are.  Don't you want to?" I go, "Absolutely, I just wasn't sure if you
had plans, Rob." He  goes, "I don't have any plans that don't include you,
Dylan.  Jeez!"

At work this guy,  Terrance Niles, turns out to be a strange old codger. I
guess he's  around sixty-years-old and bald as a cue ball, plus he doesn't
seem to do anything. After taking sixty-seconds explaining to me  what I'm
looking for in the files he sits behind an old wooden desk and watches  me.

Once in a while he'll answers the phone and then begrudgingly get  up
mumbling under his breath to looks though one of the  ledger books behind his desk
and then tell whoever called  what they want to know. I'm only guessing
that's what he does. He could be  a bookie taking gambling bets for all I know.

The only other thing he does  is disappear every twenty-minutes and returns
reeking of cigarette smoke. Not  that I give a shit...

My job is similar to  the one I did for Dottie that weekend I worked for
her. Yeah, except that was in  the new office building and now I'm in the
musty basement of the old  building where everything is dusty and, well, old.

There are like three  hundred boxes of manila folders on metal shelves and I
need  to take every box down and every file out to look at the first sheet in
 each file. If it says, 'Standard OP' it goes back in the box to later be
taken  to the town dump. If it says, 'Special OP' it gets put in a pile for
some kind  of special treatment. Terrance doesn't know what the special
treatment is but he  guesses the files will be put through a paper shredder.

Huh, apparently Mr.  Dickers doesn't want even the remotest possibility
that the 'Special OP'  files will ever be seen by anyone. That is, anyone who
would know what the  stuff in the files means. I looked at a couple and it's
mostly coded numbers  with money amounts. It's Greek to me. Maybe in the
early days of his  business dealings he did some things that maybe weren't a
hundred-percent, um,  legal. Hmmm, I haven't a clue what that could have been
but for twenty dollars  an hour I'll happily help destroy the evidence. He's
had this business for the  better part of thirty years so in the beginning
it was surely much different  than it is now. Rob told me when his dad
started the business there was a  trash disposal aspect to the business that was
later eliminated when the  'landscape design' aspect was included. Nefarious
minds might think in  older times trash disposal often had a Mafia stench
to it. Ha ha, that Mr.  Dickers may have been involved with gangsters is a
stretch even for  me.

For this job I'm  obviously not wearing the sport coat and I've taken the
tie off and rolled  up the sleeve of Rob's pale-blue dress shirt. My hands
are dirty within ten  minutes and I'm inhaling dust mites from decades ago so
maybe twenty-dollar an  hour ain't enough for doing this ball-buster of a
job. When Rob texts me  that I should meet him for coffee break at nine-thirty
I tell Terrance that, and  I may have woken him up. He says, "Don't startle
me like that, son! I was  thinking." I nod, and say, "Sorry. Um, Rob texted
me that it's time for a  coffee break so I was gonna do that, um, if it's
okay with you." He goes,  "If it's okay with young Dickers I suppose it's
okay by me. Bring me back  a medium coffee and a bear claw from the 7-Eleven on
Snyder Street. And,  ah, I'll reimburse you when you get back." I'm like,
"Um, yeah  sure if it's okay with Rob."  Rob didn't say anything about me
going  to the 7-Eleven.

I wash-up in  the lavatory upstairs and then, not to make waves, I put my
tie back on.  Leaving the sport coat in the basement I wear my winter coat
walking across from  the old building to the new one. I remember how to get to
Rob's office  and when I get there I see two men in the office with Rob, so
I wait outside.  All three of them are in shirt sleeves. Rob's sport jacket
in on a hanger that's  hanging from the knob on a closet door. The two men
aren't that old. I'd  guess they're maybe twenty-five or so and I can hear
one of them say, "That's  not what O'Connor told me," and Rob says, "Frankly,
I don't give a shit what  O'Connor told you, I'm telling both of you how I
want it done." I just had a  glance of them and I'm now leaning up against
the wall in  the corridors listening to the other guy say, "You realize, Rob,
we'll lose  an entire day doing it your way." Rob says in a normal
conversational voice,  "Just fucking do it, okay?" I'm thinking, 'Oooh, Rob, you da
man!'
The two guys come out  and turn up the corridors away from me with the
overweight  guy mimicking Rob, "Just fucking do it," but that's all I hear.

After  waiting a minute, I step to Rob's open door, "Ready for break, Rob?" He
smiles,  "I'm so glad you're here, baby. C'mon in," and then he grins, "Oh
shit, I called  you 'baby' in the office. Close the door." I close it and he
comes around his  desk and gives me a hug and a sloppy kiss, then says, "I'll
probably get  fired but let's have sex right now right, right here in my
office." My  heart thumps in my chest and then he says, "Wouldn't that be
cool?" and  thankfully I realize he's joking. He says, "I need to drop this
report off  at Dottie's desk and then we'll hit Dunkin' Donuts, okay?" I shrug,
"Sure," and  he kisses me again seeming very bright and upbeat." I wait here
for him  thinking how if I personally had just had the confrontation with
those two  guys that Rob had I wouldn't be so cheerful and care free." I
wonder if  those guys work for Rob?
He comes back all  smiles and puts his winter coat on, saying, "You look so
hot, Dylan!" I go,  "It must be my new haircut," and he chuckles, saying,
"You look cute  and sexy in spite of your haircut, that would be more like
it." I give him a  'look' and he goes, "I'm fuckin' teasing you, Dylan. I'm a
big fan of your  haircut," and he squeezes the back of my neck giving be
sexy  chills. As we're walking out the front door, I ask, "I saw two guys
coming out of your office. Do they work for you?" He laughs, "Nobody works for
me, Dylan. Um, I mean except you, sort of." I go, "Oh," and he's like,
"Yeah, I'm pretty low on the totem pole around here. Dad has me doing, ah,
quality control of certain jobs. I guess that's the best way I can describe it.

Without boring you with specifics, those two guys were thinking they'd do
something their way and dad wants me to be sure they do it his way, but no,
they  don't work for me." I nod like that made sense but I'm impressed Rob
didn't  feel he needed to boast about what he said to those two. I might have
if I were  him. Ya know, brag a little how I told those guys a thing or
two. I'd like to  ask Rob if he wasn't concerned that those guys now probably
think he's a  complete asshole for talking to them the way he did. I don't
though because then  he'd know I was eavesdropping.

In Dunkin' Donuts we're  sitting at a table with our coffees and four
glazed donuts. I say, "That  guy, Terrance, wants me to get him a coffee and a
bear claw at the  7-Eleven. Do you think..."and Rob goes, "Fuck that! Ha ha,
who does he think he  is? Tell him I said you couldn't do it. Christ, that
old bastard would have you  running errands for him all day if you let him.

His entire responsibility,  where you're concerned, was for him to take a
minute showing you what  you're looking for in  those files and then his
involvement with you is over." I'm nodding. "Yeah, but  it'll be awkward going back
without anything for him." Rob makes a 'face',  then says, "He can go to
the cafe in the building  you're working in and get whatever he wants there.

That's  what he does every other day." I go, "Okay but it's obvious you're
not  going for a most popular employee of the month award." He laughs, "No, I
don't think I have much of a chance for that one. My job is more like  I'm
the hatchet man here. Doing stuff dad doesn't like doing himself,
basically." Jesus, what balls Rob must have. I couldn't do  it.

Rob's in no hurry and  as we take our time with the coffees we talk about
where we'd like to go for a  few nights after Christmas. We have over a week
left of our break after  Christmas and we want to go to a warm climate. I
suggest Key West because I know  that's a cool place. That's where Willie took
me when he apparently wanted me to  watch him commit suicide, although I
wouldn't have any of that. Rob and I can't come to a conclusion  of where
we'll go but it's fun talking about it. We have never been away  together so
this will be a first for us. He looks so relaxed and confident  sitting there.

It's like he doesn't have a care in the world and having himself  a good
time instead of being at work doing his job. I think he's so smoking-hot  it's
taking all my willpower not to go over and sit in his lap. I  think he's the
coolest thing I've ever seen.

When I get back to the  basement it's like ten-fifteen which is a
forty-five-minute break. Hey, I was  with my boss, so sue me. At twenty-dollar an
hour I just made fifteen-dollars  having coffee. Ain't life great? Terrance is
just returning from another  smoke break as I'm taking my tie off, saying,
"Sorry, Terrance, but my boss  wouldn't let me go to 7-Eleven." He goes, "I
knew that prick wouldn't let you."  I stare at him, then say, "You wouldn't
mind if I mentioned to Rob you called  him a prick, would you?" He frowns at
me, shakes his head and sits behind his  desk. I look at him for another two
seconds but he won't look at me so I go back  to work surprised how furious
I got hearing this loser call Rob a prick. My  head's still pounding and my
face feels hot as I glare  at him.

Rob and I eat lunch in  his office. He insists on trading one of his
chicken salad sandwiches for  one of my peanut butter and jelly ones claiming he
hasn't had a peanut  butter and jelly sandwich in years and he loves them. I
know the reason  is he feels sorry for me and my shitty peanut butter and
jelly sandwiches.  After lunch we put our coats on and go outside for a smoke.

I've never felt  closer to Rob in my life. As we smoke we exchange little
knowing  smiles and casually touch one another whenever we say something. His
smile is so  sincere and sweet it makes me glow all over. Finished our
smoke, Rob goes, "Have  dinner with me tonight, Dylan, and we'll go someplace
afterwards." Normally I'd  do most anything to get out of dinner at his house
but I want to be with  him so I say, "Thanks, Rob. Sure, I'd like that."

Also I don't know why I don't  ask if he's sure his mom won't mind, but it's
like I have faith in him and if he  invited me then it's okay. Rob grins and
looks around before giving me  an awesome hug  whispering in my ear, "I see
my hickey is still prominently displayed," and  he licks it giving me shivers
and making my dick firm-up a little. I murmur,  "Yeah, I'm fucking proud of
it," and he chuckles, mumbling, "Proud of it, my  ass."

Rob has a meeting and  can't have afternoon break with me so I skip it all
together. Terrance has  had nothing to say since he called Rob a prick so
it's a quiet and slightly  dirty afternoon for me, and then it's five o'clock
and my first day is  over. Of the nine hours I've been here, eight were for
work at twenty-dollars  per which means I just made $160.00. Awesome! I'm in
the lavatory cleaning-up  when Rob texts me that he's ready to go whenever
I am. Texting back I tell him  I'll be at his office in five minutes.

I'm feeling kinda happy  walking to the new building and then I see Rob's
waiting for me  in the lobby. We smile at each other as he walks out and on
the way to the  parking lot, he says, "When I told mom I'm bringing you for
dinner again she  said you're welcome anytime. Mom and dad really like you."

I doubt that  very much but I don't care; I care what Rob thinks. "Oh yeah?
That's  nice, Rob." He probably expected me to say something nice about his
'rents, but  I already lied by omission. Anyway I've lost count of my lies
so  I don't bother numbering them anymore. Most of them are lies to be  nice
and not tell people what I'm really thinking which might hurt their
feelings.

During the ride to  Rob's house I call Chubby to say I won't be home for
dinner. He tells me he's  been moping around the house all day still nursing
Sunday night's hangover. If  Rob and I are doing anything tonight Chubby
wants me to give him a shout-out and  maybe, he'll join us. I tell Rob and then
at a red light his cellphone  rings. When he pulls it out of his coat pocket
the face is toward me for a  second. The caller ID reads: Greg Peters. He's
the guy Rob says is on leave from  the Navy, I think. Rob goes, "Hello,"

and listens, then laughs and says, "No  that definitely wouldn't be something
I'd do but you probably would," and  he laughs again, then says, "Can't
tonight," pause, "Probably not but I'll  double check. Yeah, you too." He puts
the cellphone back in his pocket as I  look straight ahead with jealousy
eating me up.

After a few seconds of  silence Rob says, "That was Greg, um, Peters. I
thought he was on leave  from the Navy but he's been discharged and although he
was considering re-upping  he's decided not to. He's fulfilled his
commitment which I think was four  years, and now he's looking for a job." I go,
"Did he want to go out with you  tonight?" Rob goes, "Oh man, Dylan. No! He
didn't say anything about that! He  asked if I had any job openings and I told
him probably not but I don't know for  sure. He asked if I'd check on it." I
shrug, hating on myself for being  jealous. That call put a damper on
things and the last five minutes of  the ride we listen to sports talk about the
Pats on 98.5, The Sports  Hub.

Parking at his house,  Rob says, "Oh, I meant to tell you. Dad saw you when
you were walking over for  coffee break and he texted me: 'Nice haircut for
your boyfriend, son'." Rob  excitedly adds, "That's the first time he's
ever referred to you as 'my  boyfriend'. It gave me chills it was so cool." I
say, "He's right too, it is an  alright haircut." Rob just grins and squeezes
the back of my neck again like I'm  always doing to certain guys. His
squeeze gave me chills again too. Okay, I'm  off the jealousy kick. If there's
anyone who has no fucking business  being jealous it's me with my recent
steady side-sex with John Smith and Daryl.  Robby's not stupid he knows Daryl and
I are doing it. Hell, Rob  even mentioned it after I 'topped' him last
night.

Inside we find his Mom  home. Mr. Dickers is still at the office. His Mom
works two or three days a  week at the office and the rest of the time she
takes care of the business  of running a home, whatever that entails. She
seems sincere today greeting me  very pleasantly, then her and Rob talk about
work for a few minutes before Rob  says to me, "Lets clean up and you can
change into the sweatpants and shirt  you lent me yesterday." Then he turns to
his Mom, "You washed clothes today, right?" She  says, "What day is it,
Robert?" He goes, "Right, you always do the laundry on  Mondays. Thanks, Mom,"

and he  kisses her cheek. We go upstairs to his bedroom where he locks the
door and  gets me in his arms, "I'm been wanting to do this all day, baby," and
he kisses  me which kicks-off a hot make-out that leaves me shivering with
desire.

We manage to get  our pants down as we're kissing and licking each others
mouth. As we hump our  hips lightly together Robby's fingers are in my hair
pushing my head back  and then his tongue explores my mouth some more. I
sometimes forget  how strong he is. With  my boner leaking we fall on the bed
together but Rob gets off the  bed immediately, putting a hand on my back
keeping my chest on the bed. I  push my ass up and his wet-headed boner is
immediately at my asshole. It  goes in with some pain but Rob's grunts, wildly
aroused. Even so his boner still  goes in slow because he's showing me
consideration for the pain and  then he's tight against my ass making a quiet
desperate whining sound. He  humps against my buttocks a few times before
grabbing hold of my  hips with both hands and pulling up a little. The pain begins
fading slowly  and then swiftly and it's gone as I moan, "Mmmm, ooooh, feels
good, Rob." He  begins with three slow pull backs and thrusts but then it's
balls to the  wall again for another fast and furious fuck like we've been
doing lately,  "Slapslapslapslapslap," sounds with sensations soaring in on
me.  Awesome sexual pleasure sensations that can come only from a  rectum.

It's the kind of sexual pleasure  that's all-encompassing. My entire body
shivers with it. I've been liking  it fast and hard lately so it's perfect sex
for the  moment.

Two,  then three-minutes of  hard fast thrusting and I'm cupping my hand in
front of my throbbing boner  because climax is coming on me quickly and
then a muffled, "Eeeetiiii" as cum  shoots against my hand splattering droplets
on my wrist. My squeal was  muffled because Rob had his hand over my mouth.

I feel him shooting his load up  my ass and soon it sighs of pleasure at
the sexual relief we both  are feeling. He pulls out, murmuring, "Oh my God,
Dylan, that  was too fucking good." and he sits on the bed next to me. His
four-inch  fireplug of a cock is still hard and shiny  with his semen. He lays
back and sighs again as I slide off the bed and  on my knees I get between
his legs and suck his cock into my mouth. My  tongue licks all  around it as
I slurp on the shaft making those wet mouth sounds. Rob lies  there
breathing noisily as he reaches down and plays with my  short hair. I feel my cock
getting hard again as I continues sucking on his cock  getting it really
hard again. Three then four minutes and now Rob's making  mewing sounds pulling
my short hair and squirming like mad on the bed. When he  starts humping
his hips I taste a spurt of something that shoots out of his  cock and that
sets me off and my hips hump on their own as a spurts of  something shoot out
of my cock, feeling spectacular. The spurt of  wetness sticks on the
bedspread overhang.

Now I'm really weak as  I take Rob's cock from my mouth and move to the
side of his leg and rest the  back of my head on the bed. Rob's still breathing
deeply as he rubs  his fingers through my hair mussing it up totally. A few
minutes of silence  while Rob massaged my scalp. He sits-up and gets on his
knees next to me to  hug my shoulders and quietly say, "This is how we'll
be when we're married.  Hot desperate sex after work and anytime else we feel
like it.  Won't that be awesome?" I nod, "Uh huh, except we won't be
working at the  same job." He goes, "Yeah, but the same company. Like today just
knowing you were at work with me made me so happy. C'mon, get up now and
we'll shower together."

As I'm getting up, I'm  like, "Um, the bathroom's in the hall. Do you think
it's a good idea  showering together? What if your Mom needs to talk to you
or she's walking  upstairs when we're going into the bathroom?" He hugs me
saying, "You worry too  much. Let me worry about my Mom and Dad." My lips
feel sticky from Rob's cum and  the back of my legs are sticky with the same
substance. That's kinda cool. Rob  pulls up my pants grinning and saying,
"Jesus, this week has been  fun, baby." Terms of endearment when Rob says them
sound perfectly  normal and appropriate to my ears. When he gets his pants
pulled up he  unlocks his door. I really hate hall bathrooms! All bathrooms
should be attached to bedrooms like civilized peoples' bathrooms. Rob
doesn't  appear concerned at all. As we walk the short distance to the hall bath,
he  says, "How about a movie tonight. Call Jeff and see if he's up for a
movie." And  then we're safely in the bathroom where Rob turns on the shower
and starts  undressing, asking, "How about that?" meaning a movie tonight. I
go, "Sure.  Movies are great."

We shower together  bathing ourselves. While soaping up we're rubbing our
slippery soapy bodies  together giving each other sexy looks and nodding our
heads like, that's right  we're bad and sexy. Back in the bedroom I'm
combing my hair when Rob takes the  comb and re-combs the part, and he's right I
had it too low. I mutter, "Thanks,  Daddy," and he chuckles and gives my bare
ass a smack.  After using Rob's  deodorant, I put my work clothes on a coat
hanger and then put on the  clean sweatshirt and other clothes I lent Rob
yesterday. Next order of  business is calling Chub about the movies and he's
all for it so we arrange  to pick him up around seven. We have cans of Pepsi
while playing pin  pong in their basement with Rob winning all the games
playing left handed. It's  infuriating because I'm not some spastic. I've got
good hand/eye  coordination and I'm fairly good at sports. Guys like Rob and
Willie though are  born with above average athletic ability and everything
just seems to come  easier for them. Dodger too.

Dinner is meatloaf,  mashed potatoes, lima beans, and a salad. I've had
this thought before:  Mrs. Dickers is no Mrs. Wilcox in the kitchen. During the
dinner  conversation I expect Mr. Dickers to say something about my hair
but he  doesn't; nobody does, which is perfect. Mostly the conversation is
about work  which I have nothing to say about until Rob reminds his dad what I
was  working on and his father looks interested, asking me, "How many
'Special OP'  files did you come across today, Dylan?" I go, "I went through a
hundred and  twenty boxes and found six." He goes, "And what did you do with
them?" I say,  "That guy Terrance said to leave them on his desk, but Rob said
to give them to  him, so that's what I did." He looks at Rob, who says,
"They're locked in my  desk although they all looked normal to me." His father
nods, "Uh huh, they are  pretty normal but give them to me first thing in
the morning and, Dylan, you do  the same for those you find tomorrow. Don't
leave any of them laying around.  When you go to coffee break or lunch or
anything bring any 'Special Op' files  you've found to me." I say, "Yes, sir,"

which makes everyone  chuckle. I got in the habit of saying 'sir' and 'ma'am'
at Ryan's house. In  the South they practice that kind of thing.

During dessert Mr.  Dickers brings up the files again, asking Rob, "Whose
idea was it to have Dylan  sorting out the 'Special OP' files?" and Rob says,
"It was mine. I told Ned  Peason I had the perfect person for that job."

His dad goes, "Excellent. Peason  is the last person I want getting involved
with those damn things." Mrs.  Dickers asks, "Are they in relation to...?"

and his father does a  subtle shake of his head and she stops talking and
goes, "Well, did  everyone have enough to eat?" Mr. Dickers says, "Yes, I think
so, Em. It was  delicious as always." Huh, not one of them mentioned Dodger.

I thank  his parents for dinner and follow Rob up to his bedroom where he
gets me in his  arms and we make-out again. Rob is apparently as much into me
as I'm into him  and maybe a little more, which is an awesome development.

We end up on the bed  panting with Rob holding me, the side of my head on
his chest and neither  of us saying anything. Being in his arms and smelling
his scent gives me a  boner. Finally, Rob sighs and says, "You make me very
happy, Dylan. I was just  thinking how empty my life would be without you,"

and he squeezes me and kisses  the top of my head. Reluctantly he goes,
"Well, let's pick up your brother and  see a movie." We both use the bathroom
and then go downstairs where  Rob tells his parents we're going to the movies.

His mom asks, "Will Dylan be  spending the night?" Rob looks at me, "Do you
want to?" Taken by surprise I  blush a little, saying, "Ha, no, not
tonight, thank you though." She says, "If  you change your mind or sleep over some
other night you'll need to sleep in with  Robert because there's no mattress
in Dodger's room. We lent it to the  Barnharts. Their daughter is home from
college and, oh it's a  convoluted story but since Dodger won't get
discharged until June, we don't need  it until then." His father says, "Anyway
we'll get a new mattress for soldier  boy." Rob goes, "Cool. See you guys
later."

Outside he goes, "Did  you hear that?" I'm like, "Yeah, it's the first time
I've heard Dodger  mentioned." Rob goes, "Not that! My parents almost told
us to sleep  together." I go, "Oh that. Yeah but it wasn't almost, Rob, she
told me to sleep  with you." He's all excited, "This is a good breakthrough.

First my  Dad referred to you as  'my boyfriend' and now out-of-the-blue
Mom tells you to sleep with me." That is quite  a leap for those two! Mostly
though I was thrilled to hear one of them at  least say Dodger's name and
without a disparaging comment. I love that kid,  although he's no kid anymore I
guess. Last time I saw him he was taller than Rob  and me.

We make plans for me to  stay overnight on Wednesday. Doing it tomorrow
would look like we jumped at the  opportunity and it'd be too obvious. Well, ha
ha, waiting only one  night is pretty obvious too, but she asked that
sleep-over question without  being prompted in any way so I feel it was a subtle
endorsement that they're  acknowledging Rob and I are gay lovers and they're
finally sincere about  being supportive of us. Damn, I never expected that!
Yeah, but sometimes very  unexpected developments take a while to process
in the mind. The point is they  have come around to accepting our situation
as gay boyfriends.

After picking up my  sport coat and khakis at the dry cleaners we go to my
condo so I can drop off  the clothes and then I text Chubby to join us. As
soon as he gets  in the pickup he goes, "Bro! Nice haircut! I was wondering
when you'd come to  your senses." I go, "Hey!" and he kisses my cheek,
saying, "I'm just joking,  Dylan. You know I think you're prefect with any haircut
but I like  this one better than the former one." Rob's beaming so I go,
"Rob did this  for me," and Chubby looks over at Rob driving, saying, "Hey,
you got talent,  Rob!" Everything is a positive with Chubby. He doesn't even
know how to spell  'negativity'. Rob smirks, "I'll do better with his next
haircut, but I  thought this haircut turned-out okay." Chub rubs my shoulder
saying, "Yeah it  did and my bro looks best with short hair." Rob goes, "I
was telling  Dylan that just last night." I go, "Feel free to continue talking
 about me like I'm not here." Chub grins asking Robby, "Did Dylan give you
a hard  time about the haircut?" They chuckle as I  shake my head slowly
like I'm annoyed when the truth is I love being with these  two awesome guys.

During our drive  to the movie complex at the Framingham Mall Chubby tells
us about him and  Chris Johnson, a cool black friend of Chub's from high
school who's  home from college for Christmas break. They went together to do
some Christmas shopping at the  Mall and Chris ran into a couple of girls
doing the same thing, one of whom  Chris dated and now Chub and Chris have
dates for Friday night. Chub goes, "This  girl, Jasmine, asked me out first and
then Chris and his old girlfriend said,  'What the fuck, let's try it again'
and that was that." Rob goes, "Jasmine? Is  she black?" Chub goes, "Yeah,
she'll be my second black girlfriend if  things work out. She's hot and
funny. We were exchanging quips and  she's quick. Bad-ass momma, that girl. Nice
body too but she's a little  taller than me. I'm thinking of buying lifts
for my shoes." I give him a  'look' and he squeezes my hand laughing, "Just
kidding bro. Jasmine says  she's always had a thing for white boys and I told
her she's smart like that.  She insisted on buying me a vanilla ice cream
cone. I told her, 'Bitch, I like  chocolate'." I'm shaking my head, "Are you
serious?" He goes, "Damn right.  Jasmine's my lady, dude," and he laughs.

Chub always has a good  time.

Standing outside  the theater in the slushy dirty snow I spot Bean standing
with a  couple of guys I don't know. I give him the finger and he  smiles
calling me over. Holy shit has he grown. He's like  six-feet-three-inches but
still as skinny as a string bean. I'm like,  "Bean, whassup?" as we do a
quick hug and fist bump. "What the fuck you  been eating, son?" He chuckles,
"Everything I can, Dylan. I see you're  still as good looking as ever. Hey,
look at this head of hair on me," and  he pulls off a ski cap he was wearing.

Holy shit, lots of hair alright.  I go, "Jesus, you look like a mountain
man or something." He puts his arm  across my shoulders and looks around like
someone would give a shit what we're  talking about. "Dylan, how about a
haircut and then we'll do what we  used to do a couple summers ago," and he
makes a circle with his thumb and  forefinger poking his other forefinger
through the circle. I fake dumbness  asking, "Are you pointing to anything
special about your hand?" Bean, never the  sharpest knife in the drawer, goes,
"No, no. Don't you remember?  I corn-hole you after the haircut. You said you
liked my long dick." I  shake my head like I'm totally confused, "No, I'm not
recalling your long dick.  Do you have one?" He punches my shoulder, "Do I
have one?  Hey, I've been corn-holing my roommate." I go, "Jesus, you got in
 a college?" He goes, "Don't act so surprised. Yeah, I got in a college  in
Mississippi. How about the haircut and you know, afterwards?" Rob  calls
me, so I say, "They're going in now. I gotta go." He says, "I'll  call you.

Nice seeing you." I nod, "You too, Bean." As I'm jogging back to  the guys,
Beans calls, "I'll catch you up on the posse boys." I wave back at him  and
follow Rob in the theater.

Inside Rob asks, "Who was that?" I go, "One of  the ex-posse boys." and he
goes, "Oh yeah, I played some baseball with you  and those guys a couple of
summers ago." We all pay our own way in the  movie and when standing in line
for popcorn a guy tugs on Chubby's arm and he's like,  "Sammy White! How
they hanging, dude." He gets out of line to talk to this kid,  asking me,
"Would you get me a medium popcorn and a Coke, bro?" I go,  "Sure," and he
sticks a twenty-dollar bill in my coat pocket. I go, "You  don't need..." but
he's laughing his nuts off with this guy, Sammy. Damn,  Chubby knows lots of
people I don't. It's not like it used to be; not even  close. Then I see Robby
ahead of me so I catch up with him, grinning  and saying, "Can we hold
hands during the movie?" He chuckles, then says,  "Sure."

We don't hold hands but  I would have if Rob felt comfortable doing it in
public. He's sooooo  much better about things like that than he used to be
though; we'll kiss in  public at times. I've got two popcorn bags and two
paper cups of Coke. Rob goes,  "Here, babe, let me help you with that," and he
takes one of the sodas. Chubby  say goodbye to his Sammy-friend and sits with
us. The movie is another action  thriller with the mandatory long car chase
and forty guys getting killed and so  forth. I'm thinking about Bean and if
I should invite him over when he  calls? And if I do that will other posse
boys follow? That was a strange summer  with Ray and the boys. Yeah but I
became friends with some of them and  had sex with three and almost a fourth.

With my elevated feelings for Rob  though am I interested in side-sex...

does it still fit in my life  okay? 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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