Date: Fri, 25 Aug 2017 11:40:21 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE    Chapter  57

DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE


Chapter  57


by  Donny Mumford


Sunday  morning lying in bed I'm of course dealing with a hangover.  Not at
all surprising considering Chub and I were bar-hopping after  dinner last
night. What surprised me was the ironic cause for my  recent worrisome
moments. With Chubby acting as my psychiatrist we  concluded the cause of my
malady was Rob's ironclad blueprint for our  future. I say it's ironic because
for so long I thought it'd be  an ideal situation to have someone taking care
of me, making rules  and decisions for me, and generally being in-charge.

Well, in sexual  situations I still prefer a dominant sex partner but now I no
longer want anyone  in-charge of all the other aspects of my life. I
changed my mind; it's as  simple as that. My love affair with Rob hasn't changed
though and  it's possible, maybe even likely, his plans eventually will still
play-out  for us. For now, though we need to eliminate  all arbitrary
deadlines within our relationship. No more predetermined  times as to when this
or that will, or will not, take  place.

This is a  totally different outlook from when I was a teenager but it's
not  unusual for someone to change their mind about stuff as they get  older.

I suppose there are individuals who know exactly what they want  to do with
their lives at a young age and that never changes, but I'm not one of  them
and neither are most young people. The majority of students at Merrimack,
for example, have no idea what they're going to do after college. Hell,
there's a large group that haven't even decided on a major yet! And I'm not
claiming any of this is some earth-shattering  revelation.

Continuing  the irony theme, it's ironic that I'm the one who needs to
take-charge and explain to Rob that our long-range plans can't and shouldn't be
 guaranteed. It was immature of us to think they should be. It's a similar
situation to Rob's ill-conceived idea a year ago, that we get engaged. Come
 to think of it, I was the one who took-charge of blowing-up that idea too.

At  first the idea of being engaged was a romantically cute notion, but the
 reality of it as sophomores in college was frivolous and, well, stupid.

Sure,  it's fine and dandy to share plans for the  future but those youthful
plans shouldn't contain restrictions and/or  deadlines. Relationships should
flow naturally  with milestones happening only when it feels right for both
parties. Again, this isn't a ground-breaking revelation, just one Rob and I
have  been ignoring. Having relationship deadlines is like putting an
expiration date  on the relationship. For example, Rob's proposition that
beginning the  first day of our senior year we all-of-a-sudden will be monogamous
is  unrealistic. Same thing applies for other timetables like when we move
into  Rob's condo or us getting married the summer after graduation and
having baby a year later etc.

A timetable  to do certain things at a certain time is pretty much
inconsistent  with Rob's and my relationship in the first place.  Our relationship
falls within what's called a polyamory arrangement.  A  polyamory
relationship assumes there's a primary loving intimate  relationship but it also
includes one or more other sex partners with knowledge  and consent of all
partners involved. It overcomes jealousy and possessiveness.  What most people
aren't aware of is that monogamy is rather a recent  development, historically
speaking, and still kinda rare in cultures  around the world. According to
Wikipedia, of the current 1,231 societies around  the world only 186 are
monogamous. The other 1045 are either occasionally  polygamous or frequently so.

A little history lesson there that I  imagine most people will be shocked
to learn. Anyway, that's not the point. The  point is Rob and I need to wipe
the slate clean of all timetables  and see if things plays out the way we
think they will. It's really  not changing much of anything except an
understanding that nothing is etched in  stone.

Getting out  of bed slowly I'm feeling confident that none  of these things
will be much of a problem for Rob. It's not like  we're breaking-up or
anything. We're still in love and sharing this  apartment and I'll most likely
work for him this summer and then in a few  years we'll probably get married.

The only difference is that nothing is a  foregone conclusion and there's
no specific timetable for any of those things to  happen. I want to be free
from the possibility that promises might  need to be broken. In business, of
course deadlines must be met, but  in relationships they just cause
unnecessary stress.

Amazingly I  remember one of Chubby's quotes from last night that's
applicable to this  situation: 'To control your cow, give it a bigger pasture'.

Words  of wisdom from Zen master, Suzuki Roshi. It means instead of tightly
controlling something, in this case our relationship, open it up and give  it
space to roam around and see what happens. Sure, have a goal, but give it
room and let it grows organically instead of trying to  force it to work.

Watch how it works on its own and you might  learn something. Jeez, I feel so
smart this morning, and with a hangover too.  I'm anxious to share this
newfound wisdom with Robby.

First  though I desperately need something non-alcoholic to  drink.

Alcoholic beverages dehydrate the fool who drinks in excess, meaning  me. To combat
my hangover, I take three Advil with a sixteen-ounce  bottle of Coke and
then spend a long time doing all the regular things one  does in the bathroom;
doing them all slowly. Coming out of the  bathroom followed by a cloud of
steam from the shower I need to lie down again  because that was exhausting!

Gee, I hope  I remember all the stuff I want to tell Rob. And I've got to
do  this tactfully because I do not want to hurt his feelings while  I'm
trashing his plans of a lifetime. Okay, I'll remember to say 'we'  and not 'you'
as if I'm refuting everything he's planned for us. I mean  I went along
with his ideas until now that I've finally seen a beacon  of common-sense.

First, I'll congratulate him on the team's two wins and  tell him I missed him
because I did, and then have the heart-to-heart talk. Oh,  and it'll be best
if I do not mention anything about Chubby!  Rob will mistakenly think Chub
and I were conspiring behind his back. Chub  and Rob are friends to a degree
except where I'm concerned. They have different  ideas about what's good for
me. I'm humbled that they both care about my  well-being as much as they
do. Obviously I'll always trust Chubby's opinion  above all others, but
nothing good could come from me mentioning that  fact to Robby.

Oh fuck,  it'll be fine. After a half-hour or so I figure I better get off
the bed and get  dressed. While I'm doing that, I'm wondering if I've
overstated in my  mind Rob's willingness to acquiesce to my new outlook for us.

Dressed now, I wander into the living room and glance out the sliding glass
doors to see another gloomy day outside. There's simply not enough sun
during the month of March so thank God the month's almost over. What a  sucky
month, although it's better than January or February. I'm speaking  about the
weather and I suppose individuals who love skiing probably have a  much
different opinion of winter weather than I do.

For  breakfast I settle on coffee and toast only. My stomach's unsettled
and I think  those fucking Guinness drafts are mostly responsible. Guinness is
 a very gassy beverage. Lying on the sofa I text Rob, 'What are you doing
now, Rob?' and then wonder if that sounded too much like I'm checking-up on
him. Ha ha, after everything I've been thinking this morning, checking up
on Rob is a major contradiction of my thesis. He doesn't text back anyway.

Hmmmm, wonder what he's doing that he couldn't text back?

After  reading the Sunday Globe's sports section, and then the
'entertainment' pages, I  rest my eyes for a minute and doze off. Naps are excellent
things to do when  hungover. For lunch  later on it's another Coke along with
more Advil and  then soup; Lipton's dry noodle soup mix with 'real'
chicken-flavored  broth. I add three  cups of water to the dry mixture and bring to a
boil and then just let  it simmer for five-minutes. Huh, 'real' and
'chicken-flavored' sound contradictory to me. In any  case I down all three cups of
that concoction and then evaluate  how I'm feeling now. Not horrible, but
not great either. Chubby texts me,  'Feeling OK this morning, bro? How 'bout
lunch?' I call him and explain I  had soup for lunch and I'm waiting for Rob
to get back from Georgia. We talk a  little about last night's revelation
and I assure him I'm speaking with Rob  about everything this afternoon. Chub
doesn't encourage me or discourage me from  doing that, but wishes me well
in either case. What a perfect brother he  is.

Rob finally  texts me at one o'clock saying they're on the bus coming from
Logan  Airport and would I pick him up at the ballpark? He'll text again
when he  gets there. Oh yeah, I need to pick him up. I forgot about that. A
half-hour  later he texts me saying they just got back and he'll be waiting at
the  entrance to the ballpark. Well okay then, here we go. After driving on
campus, I park near the  ballpark and see Rob talking with Danny and two
other guys. Damn, they all have that  ridiculous haircut from Golden. Jesus H.

Christ, don't they ever look  at themselves in a mirror?

Not  particularly wanting to join their discussion I toot the horn and all
four of  them look over. Rob says something and bumps fists with his
teammates before sauntering over to me in his pickup. Fuck the haircut,  Rob's
looking awfully sexy-hot today! His blond beard is really  beginning to show
and it's at that stage, 'the I don't give a shit',  three-day's growth. Not
much of a mustache with the ends not even meeting the beard  on his chin. Then
he has some growth along his jaw and up to his sideburns.  He's got a good
grin going for him too and as he opens the passenger door,  he says, "Hi
Dylan! Wow, don't you look hot," and after closing his door we lean  over for a
good hug as I tell him, "You're the sexy-hot boy, Rob." He puts his
seatbelt on muttering, "Thanks, baby. Well, we won both games!" Yeah, he's
mentioned that before a couple of times.

As I'm  driving away, I'm like, "Yes you did win both games and
congratulations!" He goes, "It was a fun time except for the sleazy motel  they put us
up in. That wasn't too cool, but the baseball park on that campus  was
awesome. And attendance for both games was like a thousand students in  the
stands. We never come close to attracting that number at Merrimack for our  home
games." I go, "Maybe because there's over twenty-thousand students at  that
Georgia University and barely five-thousand here." He goes, "Yeah, I
guess. Hey, how ya been? Did you miss me?" I say, "I've been okay and yeah,  I
missed you. Um, I got a small matter I'd like to run by you. You know, to see
what you think." He goes, "Shoot." Hmmm, just like that? Maybe I should
bring  this up when I'm feeling a hundred-percent. This hangover is hanging on
a  little. I ask, "Did you have lunch?" He nods, "On the plane. It wasn't
very  good but I ate it anyway. I'm good until dinner. What's on your mind?" I
go,  "Ah, you know what? I'll get into it a little later. It's no big
deal."
At the apartment  complex I again find a parking spot on our lot.

Whoop-de-fuckin'-do! That's three times in  a row. While I'm helping take some of
Rob's stuff inside he tells me about  the games. He's still telling me
intricate details about both games as we  walk inside our apartment and then carry
everything back to the  bedroom. After we drop his stuff on the bed, Rob
finishes his retelling of  the games with, "So my last at bat of the second game
I creamed this ball down  the left field line and way the fuck out of the
ballpark.  Everyone in the stands oohs and ahhs but it curves foul by inches
at the  last second. That's what Danny told me anyway. I lost it in the
lights. That was  last night's game." I ask, "Did you see any sun during the day
because  there's been none around here since you left?" He grins, "Yeah,
the weather was  great. What wasn't great was being away from you." I go, "How
 about a beer to celebrate your victories." He says, "Yeah, I could go for
that."  As we walk back to the kitchen he tells me, "We weren't allowed to
have  anything to drink during the trip because half the guys are under age
and, ya  know, we're a team, so..." I mutter, "That's dumb," and Rob mumbles,
"That  was the coach's logic which made no sense to us guys who are legal
age. Like I  said we stayed at this shitty motel and we had no wheels so we
were basically  fucked." Literally?

Taking a  deep breath, I commit myself to a beer hoping the 'hair of the
dog' logic will  help me get past my hangover. Popping the caps on two bottles
of Bud and  passing one to Rob, he says, "On the plane ride back I learned
the seniors  on the team planned ahead and a couple of the guys brought
fifths of  vodka hidden in their luggage. Lawyer told me about it, but only
after the  fact!" Rob's sitting on a stool at the kitchen bar. I'm on the other
side of the bar after getting the beers from the refrigerator. We tap
bottles and take a swig with me saying, "Here's to your first two wins of the
season, Rob," and he says, "To the team's first two wins," and we take
another  swallow. I go, "Okay, here's what I've been thinking, Rob. It occurred to
me  during the many lonely hours spent here in the apartment by myself this
 weekend that...." and I tell him almost word for word everything I was
thinking  about last night and this morning. Bottom line being we need to let
things  take their normal course and not force deadlines into our
relationship. The whole time I'm talking Rob sipped on his beer making eye  contact
with me without saying a word. When I run out of words I look at him  with my
eyebrows up, like: 'Well, whaddaya think?'
Rob goes,  "Only 186 out of 1045 societies practice monogamy? That's seems
impossible." I  shrug, "It's out of 1231 actually. That what it says in
Wikipedia anyway,  but a lot of those societies are probably small ones. It
didn't give numbers of  individuals in the different societies." He goes, "Jeez,
it still sounds  hard to believe. Are you sure you got those numbers
right?" I go,  "Yeah, but Rob, you're commenting on the smallest  most
insignificant part of my speech!" He nods his head, "Yeah, yeah, um,  well I hardly
know what to say about the rest, Dylan. I mean I never  thought anything was,
um, what you said: etched in stone. And I might add I  never wanted to be
in-charge of you in the first place. Um, babe, that was  your idea... just like
our so-called sub/dom sex is by your  choice.  Not that there's anything
wrong with that." I'm frowning  at him so he goes, "I'm definitely not trying
to hurt your  feelings here, Dylan; I'm really not." I mutter, "Hurt my
feelings? I thought...  um, never mind what I thought. You mean we see eye to
eye on  everything I just said?" He goes, "Absolutely! Oh man, I'm glad we had
this  talk. I didn't want to say anything but since you brought it up, it's
a  relief not to need to feel I'm responsible for everything." I get a
little defensive, "You didn't need to worry about that, Rob. I mean, I never
expected you to be responsible for everything. Where'd you get that crazy
idea?"
He bites his  bottom lip and I can hardly believe this but I think he's
trying not  to laugh. Rob rubs his face with both hands, saying, "You're right,
Dylan.  It was the wrong choice of words but I'm happy we're thinking along
the  same exact lines now, you know, the way you just described everything.

I'm great  with all of it! Seriously!" Well holy shit, what am I missing
here? Did he just  turn the tables on me? I nod and hold my fist out for him
to bump with his as  I'm mumbling, "I mean, we're still in love and all. No
need to be upset." He  goes, "Why would I be upset?" and he gets off the
stool and comes  around to hug me, saying, "We're more in love than ever, Dylan,
and we  have a perfect relationship," and he gives me a yummy wet kiss on
the lips and  then murmurs, "Oooh, you taste and smell so sexy, Dylan. I
missed you so  much!" Huh. I mumble, "Nothing's perfect, Rob. I missed you too."
I'm not  sure what just happened here. He seems thrilled with everything I
said. I'll need to sort this out later. I think I got what I wanted, but
then why does it seem like Rob just got what he  wanted?

He cheerily  asks, "Ready for another beer, babe?" I mutter, "Uh huh," and
we take our second  beers out to the balcony for a cigarette while Rob tells
me all about  the Georgia University's baseball park. I half-listen nodding
my head  while trying to make sense of his agreeable attitude towards
eliminating all the  timetables in the life-long plans he had for us. My grand
design for  our new relationship apparently thrills Rob no end. If I'm reading
him  correctly... Well yeah, but Rob's high on life after being
instrumental in both  team wins in Georgia so everything is peaches and cream in his
mind right  now. He goes, "That freshman pipsqueak who wants my starting
shortstop position had very little to say about it on the plane ride back  here.

Previously he'd been quite the cocky little dink. Holding no grudges
though I went over to him and patted him on the shoulder and told him he'll  get
his chance and if I can do anything to help him along all he needs to do is
ask." I mumble, "That's leadership, Rob." He goes on to tell me about how
their catcher, of all people, stole third base in a key situation. I'm sort
of  listening but mostly I'm thinking how magnanimous Rob's attitude  was
towards the freshman shortstop. It would have been  more magnanimous of course
if he's extended a helping hand before he had  those two great games.

Previously he was calling that kid an arrogant freshman  who didn't know his
place.

Done our  second beers and finished our smokes I'm assuming Rob gonna be
hot for some  reunion sex, but instead he says, "You know what, Dylan?" I
shrug and he  goes, "I've was thinking about this on the plane. I'd like to
learn about  shopping for groceries and cooking. If you're willing to help me
with that I'd  really appreciate it." I go, "Um, sure," and he says, "Let's
get to it now if it's  alright with you." I'm like, "You want to go grocery
shopping now?" He nods, "If  you don't mind, yeah. I gotta learn how to do
this stuff so all the burden's not  on you all the time. And who knows when
I'll need to know how to do all that  stuff myself." What the fuck? As we're
putting our jackets on, he goes,  "Watching you cook, well I think it looks
like fun." That's news to  me.

Rob's  driving to Stop & Shop, asking, 'What'd you do while I was gone?"
Shrugging  I go, "I did like five haircuts for Pony and his boys, plus Steve
Church, Ryan  old roommate." Rob asks, "Has Steve heard from Wilcox?" I shake
my head,  "Not a peep. Ryan's fucked-up in the head I'm afraid." He just
nods and I half  expect him to say he told me so, but he keeps it to himself.

Good on you, Rob! I  hate 'I told you so' guys. Parking at Stop & Shop, Rob
goes, "What  else did you do?" I go, "Not much. Chub and I went out to
dinner last night  and did some bar hopping afterward. I had myself a mean little
hangover this  morning but I got over it and I'm feeling pretty good right
now. Those two beers  helped." All during the ride to Stop & Shop I'm trying
to make sense of this  new Rob.

Inside the  store, Rob gets one of the small grocery carts and says, "What
do we do  first?" I go, "Well, just so you know for the future, Sundays are
the  worst possible day of the week for food shopping. The Moms send the
Dads  out with the kids to shop. She gets them all out of the house for some
peace  and quiet I suppose. The Dads don't know what the fuck they're doing
so they're always on their cellphones while the kids run wild up and down
the aisles screaming." Rob grins, "We could trip a few of them to slow them
down a little." I go, "You are in one awesome mood, Mister Dickers." He
laughs,  "Yeah, I feel great. What do we do first?" We spend a half-hour shopping
for  next week's groceries getting extra chicken and spare  ribs knowing
one or two nights during the week we'll have company for  dinner. We stock up
on potatoes, veggies, cold cuts for sandwiches, bread,  Cokes, a half-gallon
of pistachio ice cream, that's actually less  than a half-gallon. Also a
package of Oreo cookies, two  boxes of sugar coated cereal, two boxes of
Dunkin' Donuts  original blend K-cups, a half-quart of medium cream and a half
gallon  of milk, plus other odds and ends that we throw in the cart as we go
up and  down the aisles. I don't feel like checking all this stuff out myself
so we  stand in a register line.

As we're  waiting for a man of about forty to have his order checked-out we
watch  him snarling at two rambunctious pre-school boys. Rob nods at the
kids  rolling his eyes, then asks, "Did you talk with your brother about this
vision you have for our future?" I go, "Sort of. It's like I was having
these  little spells of depression-like symptoms and wondered if he ever had
anything like that." Rob goes, "Did he?" I shake my head, "Nope." He goes,
"Well, I'm kinda disappointed you didn't ask me about it." I'm like, "Do you
have moments like that?" He goes, "No, but that's not what I meant. I meant
 I wish you'd talked with me about your moments of depression." I mumble,
"It  wasn't really depression; that's not the right word. It was something
unknown I guess you could say. Plus, I didn't talk to anyone about it
because I thought it would pass," and Rob asks, "Did it pass?" I nod, "Yeah, I
think so."
We start  unloading the over-filled little cart putting everything on the
belt for the  cashier. Rob mumbles, "I still wish you'd talked about  your
depression with me." I shrug, "I was going to but now I  don't need to." He's
not connecting my depression with our 'talk'. I've  decided the talk went so
well I'm gonna leave it at that. No sense emphasizing  that my mood swings
were due to Rob's timetable-stuffed plans for us. Back  at the apartment we
put the groceries away and Rob goes, "That was fun."  I'm like, "You thought
grocery shopping was fun?" He shakes his head, "No, doing  it together was
the fun part and now we need to do something  else together. Something with
us both naked together in bed." I nod, "Oh  boy," and we head for the
bedroom pulling our sweatshirts off over our  heads.

In the  bedroom, we finish getting undressed and then hug while standing
next to  the bed with Rob murmuring, "I liked your talk earlier, babe, and I
know  the reason behind it too. It's because you don't want me taking you for
granted,  which I've never done anyway, but I obviously need to try harder
to make you see  that." Huh, that wasn't why I said all those things to Rob
this afternoon... or  maybe it was in a way. I murmur, "I won't take you for
 granted either." And that's all the talking we do for quite some  time.

Instead of  talking we make-out standing here naked with our arms around
one another.  His taut slim muscular naked body is wonderfully sexy to rub my
body  against. His mouth and mine fit perfectly together, our lips kissing
and  our tongues licking as we make-out with quiet sounds of arousal sliding
out from our throats. Rob's hands on my butt cheeks are pulling me  against
his hardening cock, my arms around the back of his neck keeping our  faces
tightly together. Our noses are pushed against one another's cheek as  we're
inhaling the personal scent we've known so well for so long. His hot body
rubbing tightly against mine feels incredible. It's thrilling being desired
the  way Rob makes me feel desired.

Our sounds  of arousal increase the intensity of our kissing and  then we
take turns lapping tongues and sucking on each other's upper lip  moving our
faces and rubbing noses with our now hard cocks poking one  another. I'm
leaning into him so hard he slowly falls back onto the  bed where we roll
around in each other's arms getting our legs up on the bed  wrestling for control
until I'm on my stomach and moaning with Rob's hard  cock is at my asshole
and then the head's in past my sphincter. I moan and  struggling some more
as he's pulling my hips up a little and then with a  hard thrust his fat cock
goes up my ass a couple of inches with pain exploding  inside me. With a
whine, "Oooh," I become very docile for him as I convince  myself I'm being
dominated by Rob. He roughly humps in the rest of his  hard-fat cock until his
crotch is tightly  against my buttocks. For good measure, he humps harder
against my ass as  pre-cum drools from my cock and I shudder at the pain
that's  quickly transitioning into pleasure.

Rob keeps  his hands on my hips holding me tightly against his groin and
humps against  my buttocks again. I moan, "Mmmm, Rob, mmmm." Oh how thrilling
being physically  and sexually dominated! I actually had been trying to get
my cock up  his ass but he overpowered me. Rob reads my docile body-language
and  murmurs, "Good," and lets go of my hips knowing I'll keep my  ass up
against him. Fully impaling me with his hard-fat cock he leaves it there and
casually rubs his hands up and down my sides murmuring, "Feels good, huh
baby?" and another hump against my ass as I moan, "Mmmm," and shudder with
chills skipping up and down my spine. Rob drags his fingernails up my back
and  then slowly pulls his boner out with sensations inside me feeling so good
I  moan again, "Oooooh, Robby, when your cock is inside me it feel so
good...." Now only the fat head of  his boner is inside me. Rob gives my ass a
half-dozen hard slaps and my  back arches as I push my ass up a little higher
and feel fantastically dominated  like I can't remember feeling with Robby
before. My whole body shakes as my  boner throbs pleasurably even with my
ass stinging and hot from the  spanking.

Another hard  smack on my ass makes me moan his name again, "Oooh, Robby,"
and he starts  fucking me hard and fast with those awesome, "Slapslapslap,"
sounds ringing in  my ears as my rectum explodes with sexual pleasure and
has me writhing  on the mattress getting fucked roughly and excellently. My
body  shimmers with delightful pleasure sensations as I submissively keep my
ass  up high listening to the sounds of males fucking along with Rob's grunts
 with each hard thrust up my ass. I don't last long as my climax  comes
soaring up on me with so many incredible sexy sensations shaking my  brain I
squeal, my hips hump with cum sizzling out in a hard stream to splatter  on
the bedspread and then again with my body stiff as a board and Rob humping
against my buttocks shooting a long string of creamy cum into my bowels.

Almost at the same time we both collapse, as if we have no skeleton, me on the
wet bedspread and Rob on my back.


We're  gasping in deep lungfuls of air with our hearts pounding as  Rob
rubs his face slowly back and forth against the back of my head,  murmuring, "I
love you, Dylan. I hope you know that." He slides off my back  pulling his
now floppy sloppy cock from my ass. It slides wetly over my  left butt cheek
and then Rob nestles in tightly against me with his arm  over my backs
pulling me against his side. Turning my head to him, we kiss a  sweet sucking
kiss and then I murmur, "I know you do, Rob, and I love you right  back." He
kisses me again and mumbles, "Good." We lay like this looking into  each
other's eyes smiling little smiles like we're both quite pleased with  ourselves
and each other.

Lying here  my shoulders do an involuntary shudder, just a little one, as I
think back on  that hot sex we just had. It's was awesome and after a
minute or so I quietly  say, "That was exceptional sex, boyfriend. I loved it.

You were so rough and  tough." He grins, "I had to be because you were trying
to get me on my stomach  and I'm still head of this household whether we
have any guarantees or  not." I mumble, "We'll see about that." He opens his
eyes wide raising his  eyebrows with a questioning expression on his
handsomely cute face, so I go,  "Oh, okay, you can still be head of the household,
sort of." Grinning he says,  "Yeah right, but I know, and have always known,
who holds the power behind  the throne of 'head of the household'." I chuckle
at that because I  guess I know that too, but sometimes I like to forget
it. I mutter, "Not  really," and he says, "Yes, really, but I don't mind
because everything between  us always ends-up mutually agreed upon and
compromised when necessary." I  say, "Let's get under the covers."
Without  getting off the bed we rustle around getting under the covers. My
stomach is wet  with my own cum and my ass is wet with Rob's, but I feel
really good anyway.  Being naked in bed with another naked guy is just about
the sexiest situation I  can imagine. We're on our sides face to face with me
running my fingers through  the long hair on top of his head, quietly
saying, "I want to be your barber and  save you from further humiliating yourself
with this doofus haircut Golden does  for you." He goes, "Okay, but I just
got this doofus haircut last week." I  nod, "Yeah, but it's my turn to be
your barber the next time you need a  haircut." He nods, saying, "And you need
a haircut right now. We'll do it a  little later." I go, "Okay, if you say
so, but don't use the thinning scissors  so much this time." He grins,
muttering, "I will if I want to," and he  takes a page out of John Smith's book by
getting a fistful of my hair  pulling my head over so my face is against
his. I say, "You smell good," and  we do a long wet sloppy kiss that ends with
Robby licking his wet  perfect tongue up the front of my nose. I sputter a
little, then say, "Oooh, you  haven't done that in a long time," and then I
rub the back of my hand on my  nose.

Rob pushes  my hand away, grinning, "No! You need to leave my saliva  there
as a symbol of my renewed efforts to get you back under my thumb. I'm on a
new crusade in that regard." I go, "Ha!" jeez, it's funny but I haven't
felt this good about us for a while and that surprises me, maybe even scares
me  for a second, and then I tell him. "I haven't felt we've been this close
for a  while. Do you know what I mean?" He bites his bottom lip and then
sort of  shrugs, "I'm not sure I do," and I go, "That's understandable because
I'm  not sure exactly what I mean either." He murmurs, "I know I feel a
great  love for you, and I feel that love coming back to me. It's a pretty
fucking  good feeling."
To demonstrate he's right about me loving him back I ask him  to tell me
about the hits he got in the first two baseball games of the year. He  snorts
out a laugh, saying, "That is so sweet of you, Dylan! Giving me the  opening
to tell you again all about how fabulous I was in those games," and  as I
grin he tells me about the team's wins in even more detail than he  told me
the first time. I don't know how he remembers but he tells me every  pitch of
every at bat he had and then, grinning like mad, when he's done telling  me
that, he goes, "Let me tell you about my fielding highlights now." I nod
and  listen for a few seconds before faking huge yawns, which doesn't deter
him so I put my mouth on his and we start making-out again.

This time I  don't try getting him on his stomach because I want to feel
his cock fucking me  again and eventually he does, but slowly this time and
for much longer than our  earlier sex when we were on top of the bedspread.

Constant steady  thrusting of his fat hard cock in my previously open-up
rectum without any  pain to contrast with the exquisite pleasure I'm feeling. We
fuck for  fifteen-to-twenty-minutes with me aroused so much my second orgasm
 seems right on the verge of blowing almost from the start but  it doesn't
quite get to the point of no return until finally it  boils-over and we
climax together shaking and moaning and then hug  afterwards with me again
laying in my own cum and then spreading some of it  on Rob. His cum is smeared
over both my butt cheeks by the time we let go  of each other and I mumble,
"How about a shower, Rob?" He nods and we take a  shower together bathing each
other. Everything just seems better and  somehow new between us, or maybe
it's just me, but whatever it is I feel  really good about Rob and me.

Wearing pajamas we snuggle on the  sofa watching a spring training Red Sox
game on TV even though we don't know  most of the minor league players in
the game. When the game  is over, Rob goes, "You want your haircut now?" I
feel the shivers of  anticipation I always get when I'm about to get a haircut,
especially from Rob,  so I nod and say, "I'll get the toiletry kit." Rob
pulls over a stool and pushes  the table against the wall. When I get on the
stool and start unbuttoning my  pajama top, Rob says, "I'll use the cape,
babe. We just had a shower a little  while ago." I say, "No, I like feeling the
cut hairs hit my shoulders," and  I finish taking off the PJ top as Rob
mutters, "The head of this  household doesn't carry much weight." I look at him
and he smirks... but we  don't use the cape.

I refrain from doing any barbershop  back-seat-driving while Rob's doing my
haircut although there are a few  things I could comment on that he does
the wrong way. Instead I enjoy the  buzzing sensations in my nuts caused by my
haircut fetish. Rob uses the  thinning scissors too much again and it
almost gives me an orgasm  from hearing the "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch," sounds
of  the scissors cutting through my thick dry hair. I probably  would have
had an orgasm except I already had two of them in the  last couple of hours.

Nice ones too! Then something occurs to mean I  go, "Hey, Rob, you had curly
hair when I first met you, didn't you?" He goes,  "My hair was long back
then, but yeah it was curly. Huh, I wonder if it would  still be curly if I
ever had long hair again?" I say, "Who knows, but keep that  in mind when
you're cutting the wave out of my fucking hair." He mutters, "You  talk about
hair too much, which is so gay." He doesn't know I have a  haircut fetish, but
gee, I can picture Robby four years ago, with curly endings  to his longish
hair. Talk about cute!!

When done,  Rob's looking at the finished haircut, saying, "Goddammit! I
did  better last time." Ever the perfectionist, he adds, "I should be getting
better at this by now." He's sincerely upset with himself but checking  my
haircut using the handheld mirror and the mirror over the bathroom sink I
can't see any difference from the last haircut he gave me three weeks ago. I
yell in from the bathroom, "It's fine, Rob. I think it looks good." He
comes in  to stand behind me and then puts his arm over my shoulders and around
the front of my throat pulling my head back until it's side-by-side  with
his, murmuring, "Thank you for saying that, Dylan," and he kisses the side
of my face. I feel so good!

Then a little later Robby's  apparently serious about learning to cook as
he stands next to me asking  questions while I make a meatloaf. He says,
"Damn, I never knew so  many ingredients went into a meatloaf." We peel potatoes
together and snip  off the ends of string beans and  then put a salad
together and make homemade Russian dressing for it. While the  meatloaf bakes and
the potatoes simmer to later become whipped potatoes we have  another beer
and a smoke on the balcony. I feel the closeness again and can  hardly
believe it was my talk that's responsible for our renewed interest  in one
another, but what else could it be? Maybe it's only me who feels better  about us.

Not the love part though; I'd been very much in love with Rob before  our
talk. I think it's the liking part that's increased. Sometime I  forget that
part. The part where you really like being with someone even more  maybe
than you love someone. I don't know for  sure though....

Then  the last weeks of our junior year goes by without anything out of the
 ordinary happening. Rob and I continue the friendship and lovers trend
that  started that Sunday after the 'talk'. He continued with his interest in
cooking  too and he goes on to have the best season batting and  fielding
he's ever had. The freshman who was trying to get Rob's starting  shortstop
position only got in two games replacing Rob in later inning of a  blowout game
where Merrimack was blowing out a team and then a game where  Merrimack was
losing big. Rob had a great season personally, but the team  was just
average overall and didn't make the playoffs. My side-sex life didn't  get better
or worse these last six weeks. It was usually once a week with an  ever
increasingly dominant sex buddy in John Smith and an ever increasingly
submissive sex buddy in Daryl Ponti. I love Pony as a fun-friend first of  all, and
a hot-bodied 'bottom' side-sex buddy second of all. We had some  really
good buddy sex the last six weeks. Not that it wasn't good before. It got
hotter with Pony as I got to liking being a 'top' more and more. As a  'bottom'
I had one more chance with Dennis-big-cock-Raymond in his box truck  last
week. He'll be a freshman here at Merrimack next fall, so I'm thinking  maybe
I haven't had the last sex with him. We're likely to pick it up again in
the fall.  He's taking a couple of summer courses starting in three or  four
weeks. I'm not even sure how often I'd want to have side-sex with him
though. In any case, I've managed during the year to have some good side sex  with
guys I like, it didn't happen as often as I'd like, but it was pretty
fucking good anyway. Oversexed you say?

Rob  continued mostly 'topping' with our frequent sex but once or twice a
week I'd switch places with him. Excellent sex with Rob and I suppose he
continued getting fucked by Danny too, and by whoever else during the  weekend
he'd go home for 'work'. I'm thinking Greg Peters, but that's just
conjecture on my part at this point. I stayed at college the  two weekends Rob was
at home. I went out to dinner with Chubby again.  He checked-up on me the
week after our last dinner together and asked, "How are  thing, bro?" I said,
"Peachy, bro," and he gave me a look so I added, 'Really,  Chub, it's all
good." That's all he needed to hear. He can read me like a  book and knew I
was being truthful.

Rob kept us  on schedule study-wise, so our final exams were painless. Both
of us did  good on all the exams. After the final final-exam Rob and I went
out celebrating  with Danny, Golden, Chub, John Beverly, and three other
ballplayers  including Lawyer Ross, who I gave a second haircut to the day
before last exam.  At one of the bars we hooked-up with Danny's roommate, Phil
Catchings, and Steve  Church who still hasn't heard from his old roommate,
Ryan. Neither have I. I'd  said my goodbyes to John Smith but ran into him
last night at Joe  Blair's bar although we didn't have a chance for one last
extra 'smoke' together.

After the  celebration, everyone had a ridiculous hangover yesterday
morning. Rob and I  just lay around the apartment all day recovering. Waking up
today feeling a  lot better except Rob and I spent the whole morning packing
up and  getting ready for summer break. It's a Wednesday the second week in
May and a  fairly nice spring day for once. Moving day is never fun though,
so we don't  spend a lot of time thinking about the weather. Chubby drives
over and we manage  to get a lot of my stuff in the Jeep along with Chubby's
stuff, but a  lot goes in Rob's pickup too. Finally it's time to leave and
the three of  us stand here looking at one another like, 'Have we forgotten
anything?' When we decide we haven't Rob and I hug with him saying, "I'll call
you  tomorrow, Dylan." Chub and Rob bump fists and do a quick one-arm hug.

I get in  the Jeep's driver's seat as Chub get in the passenger seat. I beep
the  Jeep's horn, "toot-toot,' gets a wave from Rob and we're off to start
our  last summer break before our senior year... and then our real lives
start after  that.


THE END  (of Dylan's  Junior Year at College).    Thank you for  reading my
story!


The next  series starting shortly is:  'DYLAN'S SUMMER FOLLOWING  HIS
JUNIOR COLLEGE YEAR'. Watch for it.

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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