Date: Wed, 21 Sep 2016 13:29:32 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter 7

DYLAN'S  JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE


Chapter 7


by  Donny Mumford


Inside  the always crowded Quad, I'm walking towards a table where Robby,
Golden, and another freshman baseball player are sitting. They're talking
baseball probably, but as I get closer it appears the third person at  the
table isn't on Merrimack's baseball team after all. Instead  she's a cute girl
wearing Robby baseball cap with the bill to the  side. Robby looks up and
sees me coming through the throng of students and gives  me his special
smile, which I return automatically. When I'm at the table Robby  and I keep our
greeting simple by merely slapping palms. Standing next to  him I give his
bicep a light punch, "Yo, Rob..." and he says, "Hey,  glad you finally showed
up, babe." I mumble, "Lost track of time, I  guess." Holding my fist out to
Golden, I go, "Whassup, my favorite barber?"  He bumps fists, mumbling,
"Nothin' much. How you doing, Dylan?" Robby points his  thumb towards the cute
blond girl on his right, saying, "Dylan, meet the  president of my fan
club," and he blurts out a laugh, adding, "That's what she  claims anyway,
Francesca Flores," I lean across Robby to shake fingers with  her, saying, "Hi,
I'm Dylan." She goes, "And, oh my, Dylan, you're even  better looking in
person. Um, and please call me Frankie; everyone  does." I mumble, "Okay,
Frankie," and she adds, "When I'm  called Francesca," and she pronounces it with a
thick Spanish accent, "I'm  afraid people will expect me to jump up and do a
flamenco dance,  clicking castanets with my fingers." I'm like, "Oh,
really? Uum, no, I didn't  think that at all. I'm not even sure what it means."

Everyone chuckles as I sit  down, asking, "So, Frankie, you're president of
Rob's fan club, huh?" She nods  enthusiastically, "Yep, and proud of it too! I
started the fan club last year  and it's doubled in size since then." I
make a face at Robby, like, 'Really?' then mutter, "Ya got a fan club, huh,
Rob?" He snorts, "So she claims," and  Golden says, "Not to put it down or
anything, but so far Rob's entire fan  club consists of Frankie and her friend."

I say to Frankie, "Oh, you started it  alone and now there are two members,
counting yourself." She goes, "Yes, me and  Beth Underwood. Do you know
her?" I shake my head as Robby smirks, then slowly  shakes his head too.

Obviously  feeling uncomfortable about the subject matter, Robby stands,
saying,  "Well, back here on earth, I'm going to get a Coke. Can I get anyone
a soda  or something?" I go, "I'd love an iced tea with lemon." The others
shake  their heads  and Robby makes his way towards a row of vending
machines. I ask Golden,  "How'd your mentoring go today?" He grins, "Rob's a tough
mentor.  Let's see,  um, we bullshit with the guys in the locker room for a
couple of hours and  then came over here." Frankie says, "Golden, sweetheart,
that bullshit session  is how you bond with your new teammates." He nods
his head, then asks her,  "You're a junior, right?" and she goes, "No, a
sophomore, but I go for  older men." I ask her, "Is Rob the older man you're
interested in now?" She  makes the cutest face, saying, "No, sweetie, he's taken
already," and she points  at me, "By you!" I blush a dark red, not
expecting that at all. She goes,  "Don't blush, Dylan, you two make the cutest
couple on campus. Rob showed me  your picture; the one he carries in his wallet.

You're on a beach and, oh  my God, you are so hot!" Golden says, "Yeah,
Frankie's been  giving Rob the third degree. By now I imagine Rob's told her all
your  secrets." I go, "Oh Jesus! I hope not." She reaches across the table
and pats my  hand, saying, "Beth and I are merely his fan club. We know
we're not worthy  of being more than that; so no worries about competition from
us." I'm hardly  believing this as Golden asks Frankie, "Does Beth go for
younger guys?" and she  asks, "Meaning freshmen, like you,  Golden?" He grins,
"Yeah, why not me? Beth's hot, and..." He doesn't finish  because Robby's
back with the two cans of soft drinks, plus there's a  girl following him.

She stands behind me with her hands on my shoulders and lean  down so she's
looking at the side of my face. I turn my head a little, leaning  away from
her, thinking, 'What the fuck...?' as she squeals,  "He's even cuter than Rob."

I'm blushing again as Frankie reluctantly says,  "Oh, it's true, I suppose"

and Robby mutters, "Oh, fuck me! "

The  girl introduces herself as Beth Underwood and gives me a regular
handshake, up and down one time, then she sits between Golden and me.  Everyone
else at the table obviously already knows who she is. To get the  attention
off me, I say, "Beth, um, young Golden here was  wondering if you...," and
Golden yells, "Dylan! Shut up!" Robby deadpans, "It's  so wicked cool being
back in a middle school cafeteria again." Frankie is  very bubbly as she pats
Rob's shoulder, "Don't be a grump. Golden's got a crush  on Beth. Puppy
love is so adorable." Golden lets out a long exhale, saying, "Now  I'm supposed
to be too shy to say anything, right? And then I pee my  pants." There's
some chuckling, as Golden adds, "No, seriously,  that's what I'd have done in
middle school." Beth says, "You boys aren't  use to being around us female
types, being you're gay and all." Golden's like,  "Hey! I'm not gay! Just
those two," pointing at Robby and me," then he  smirks, adding, "Not that
there's anything wrong with that."

Frankie  and Beth are average size for girls at maybe five feet, four
inches tall, and  they're both slim. Frankie has smallish tits while Beth's are
the  opposite. She has grapefruit size jugs that seem firm, and she's
obviously  not wearing a bra because I see her nipples poking out the snug-fitting,
 flimsy-material top she's wearing. Both girls are attractive although in
different ways. Like I said, Frankie is cute and would make a really cute
guy if  she had testicles and a dick. She has blue eyes with blond hair, a
really nice  smile and super white teeth. Looks-wise she could be my sister, or
Robby's. Her  hair is short for a girl, but long for a guy. She's wearing
Robby's hat so I  can't see how she's combed her hair, but what I  can see is
wavy.  She has what I think is called a peaches and cream complexion with
only light  touches of make-up. If I were straight I'd be happy to have her
as my  girlfriend. Beth is the same height with those big headlights
protruding.  She has a slightly darker complexion than Frankie with big dark sexy
bedroom eyes. Just as nice a smile as Frankie's, and ditto for super  white
teeth. Her dark hair is pulled back in a ponytail with short curly  hair
across  her forehead. I imagine straight guys would probably say she's
definitely sexier than the cheerleader cuteness of Frankie. And, amazingly,  neither
girl has annoyed me yet. They don't giggle; they laugh a lot though and
it's obvious they're all about having fun. I'll bet anything they get up in
the morning smiling and cheery. That's my first impression anyway.

Frankie's  telling a story about her and Beth at one of last year's
Merrimack's baseball  games. Robby apparently made an unbelievable acrobatic play
at  shortstop and later in the game hit a home run. That's when Frankie
decided to start a fan club for him; that and the fact, in her words, he's
yummy looking. As she's talking, two average looking guys walk  by the table
bumping into the back of her chair. They're both wearing baseball  caps with
straight bills. Frankie stops her story to glance at the guys; then,
imitating black ghetto slang, she goes, "Yo, look at da two damn foos! Two  wannabe
gangsta's, flat-billing it." I flash a puzzled glance at Robby  as the two
guys roll their eyes, but keep moving along. 'Flat billing  it,' refers to
their hats with flat bills, as opposed to curved  bills. Some baseball-style
hats come with a flat bill, mostly they're  referred to as 'farmer's'  hats.

In  my lifetime almost everyone curves the bill because everybody else
does. Wearing the cap on the side, or backwards, used to be a statement of
individuality, nonconformity, but it's been mostly passé for quite a  while now.

Even so, I still like wearing my hat backwards at times, and  fuck passé.

Continuing  the middle school theme that Robby started a few minutes ago,
Beth tells a  couple of naughty experiences she and Frankie had in a Catholic
middle school.  They've been friends since kindergarten. Her  hard to
believe outlandish antidotes reminds Golden of a Catholic  school joke: "Eight
year old Zach was doing badly at math in school. He  hated math and no matter
how hard his parents tried, no matter the videos they  bought that claimed
to make math fun, nothing worked. Not being a religious  family, they
nevertheless, without real expectations that it would make a  difference, enrolled
Zach in a Catholic school for third grade.  Shockingly Zach showed an
immediate interest in math. He'd come home from school  and go right to his room
to do homework. His math grade was good on his first  report card and even
better on his second one. Both parents were thrilled but  curious about the
turn around. They hesitated questioning Zach for fear of  jinxing things, but
finally had to ask their son what the Catholic nuns were  doing that was so
different from his previous teachers. Zack's eyes opened  wide, as he
angrily says, 'Don't give me that shit! You two know very well  why I got my ass
in gear with math. The very first day of school I see  a guy they nailed to a
plus sign, and there are plus signs with guys nailed  to them in every room
all over the school, so I knew  those bitches meant business!'... In case
we're all lame and don't get  the punch-line, he goes, "Heh heh, plus signs."

Then  Frankie tells two jokes containing many 'F-bombs', and after the
second f-bomb  ladened joke, Golden says in a pompous voice, "Not to be
critical, but I've  always thought profanity a crutch used by inarticulate
motherfuckers." That gets  a laugh, then Beth says to Golden, "You have a sexy chin,"

and he goes, "I know,  ya wanna go out with me?" Huh, I knew girls would
think Golden's ass-chin  was sexy. Beth answers Golden, "Yes, but only if we
double date with the gay  boys." Robby rolls his eyes, as I ask Frankie,
"What's it cost to join Rob's fan  club?" She goes, "It's a hundred dollars a
year," and I mumble, "Never mind  then," and we chuckle. Then I hear Chubby
voice, so I look over and see him  pushing people out of the way, saying,
"Clear a path. Medical  emergency."  Chubby and John Beverly are escorting a
girl  who's holding out her hand that's wrapped in a paper napkin.  Another
girl is grinning, bringing up the rear. I yell, "Chub, what's the  emergency?"

He looks over yelling back, "Dylan!" and he breaks away from his  little
group and comes over to grab my baseball cap off my head, mess my hair,  kiss
this top of my head, then plop my hat back on. That took all of two
seconds, and then he does a double-take like he's surprised to see Frankie  and
Beth at our table. He goes, "Hello, ladies! You're not corrupting my  innocent
brother, are you?" Frankie goes, "Oh my God, you're Dylan's  brother?
Framingham boys just get hotter  and hotter." I mumble, "Pay no attention to
these girls, Chub. They're Rob's fan  club." He goes, "Fan club, huh? Can I
join?" I go, "The dues are a hundred  dollars a year," and Chubby deadpans, "Oh,
never mind then." Everyone  laughs.

Golden  says, "Hey, how about enlightening us with one of your factoids."

Chubby's  like, "Ah, young Golden Summers is here too. A factoid, huh? Well,
you might  find this hard to believe, but there's something really rare
about the  month of February, 2016. Something so rare it won't happen again for
years. What  do you think it is?" Beth says, "Omitting leap year, February
is the very rare  month that has four Sundays, four Mondays, four Tuesdays;
four of  each day of the week for a perfect twenty-eight days?" Chubby stares
at her  for a second or two, then says, "That might be it, but how many
years  before it occurs again? Beth goes, "That would be 823 years." Chubby
grins giving Beth the evil eye, then says to Golden, "Stay clear of that
girl, Golden." I ask, "So is Beth correct?" Chubby goes, "I forget," and Beth
says, "Golden's not staying clear of me; we're double dating with Rob and  D
ylan." Chubby's not used to being one upped like Beth just did to him, so he
goes, "Hmmm, this is a very unusual group, and as much as it pains me, I
must leave you to see about the medical emergency. My final advice for all
of you kids is to do less chemicals and stop trolling on social media." I
say, "Good advice Chub, but what's the medical emergency?" He says, "Oh,  a
paper cut between the first two fingers of Sandra's left hand. No  bleeding
but it's probably painful and...." Beth asks, with pretend sincerity,  "Will
Sandra need stitches, Chub?" Chubby snorts out a laugh, then says,  "Probably
not, but I'd prefer, if you don't mind, that you call me by my  nickname,
Jeffrey." She nods her head, "Okay, Jeffrey." He says, "You're very,  um,
sexy. Would you like to smoke a joint with me sometime, or share a cherry
Coke?" She goes, "Damn! I'm going with Golden presently, but if we break up
I'll text you." Chubby pats my head, muttering, "Well, there it is  then... See
ya later, Dylan." Robby and I grin, shrugging at each other as  Chubby goes
off. Beth says, "You know what, Golden, I may need to  break up with you.

Jeffrey is hot!" Golden mutters, "Why you  two-timing bitch!" and we all laugh.

After spending another half hour  being stupid, Robby becomes the adult,
and says, "It's been, um, indescribably  wonderful, but Dylan and I must be
going," and he gets up as Golden asks, "Are  we getting together tomorrow,
Rob?" Robby nods, "Yeah, of course, I'll text  you and we'll do some baseball
things with our teammates after  class."

Oh  man, that's right!  Tomorrow college begins in earnest. I  stand up
with Robby and then the girls do too, with Francesca saying,  "We'll be there
too, Rob. We're bringing a sign identifying Beth and me as  your fan club."

Robby goes, "Please do not do that," and we all begin  making our way towards
the exit. Outside Frankie goes up on her tiptoes and  kisses Robby's cheek,
then says, "See you around the diamond, Rob." Beth kisses  Golden's cheek
and he mumbles, "Will you go steady with me?" Beth says, "If I  met you in
seventh grade I'd definitely go steady with you, if only because of  your cool
name." At the bottom of the steps the two girls hustle off laughing  about
whatever in their bubbly manner. The three of us watch them  for a few
second, then I ask, "Are they dykes?" and both Golden and Robby  laughs, then
Golden says, "I'm afraid not. It appears they're going to make Rob  their pet
project this year." I go, "Well, they have a lot of energy and seem to  be
having a good time entertaining themselves." Robby lets out a long  breath,
then says, "They're kinda funny actually, but their fan club routine  could
quickly become a huge ball breaker for me." Golden pats Rob's  shoulder,
"Well, thanks for the mentoring, Rob, see you tomorrow afternoon."  Robby
mumbles, "Yeah, text me, freshman," and Golden walks to the left as  we walk
straight ahead towards the parking lot.

At  the pickup, I say, "You're aware Francesca still has your hat, right?"

Robby touches his head, muttering, "Goddammit," and unlocks the pickup. I
go,  "You can get the hat back when you're admiring their fan club sign." He
snorts a  laugh, muttering, "Oh fuck..." We drive to the Royal Crest apartment
complex  in three minutes, then Robby slides the truck into the parking
spot vacated  by a car that just backed out of it. It's a primo spot in the
first row of  cars. He doesn't think anything of it, but I go, "Wow! Awesome
parking spot,  Rob." He chuckles, asking, "Are you still having problems with
parking spots?"  We get out, and as we walk to the back entrance, I tell
him, "I'm having  better luck this year," and, faking excitement, I go, "Just
yesterday I  found a spot in our lot. It was near the back, but in our lot!"

Robby grins and  puts his arm across my shoulders to give a squeeze as we go
inside, then up the  stairs.

I  shower first giving special attention to my ass. Ryan's cum-saturated
handkerchief gets deep-sixed in the bathroom trashcan under many used
tissues. I'll empty the trash after my shower. While Robby showers I drive to
Stop & Shop to buy food that's enough for three or four  dinners. Chubby  told
me he's eating in the dining hall and he acted excited about it, saying, "A
brand new experience, bro. Dining hall dining." I told him, "I'm so sure
it'll  be awesome, Chub." He laughed, but Chubby can make the most mundane
things seem  like fun. Okay, I guess I feel a little jealous he's now with
John Beverly the way Chub and I used to be, which is to say... inseparable.  That
was a few years back though and life goes on. At Stop & Shop I buy
hamburger, two  whole chickens, pork chops, baked beans, potatoes, romaine lettuce,
a  couple boxes of mac and cheese, Hamburger Helper for emergencies, plus
other odds and ends. Total bill: $79.67. Robby gave me two twenties before I
 left the apartment for his share of the cost. Starting with the next
shopping  trip we'll save the receipts so that every couple of weeks we can even
out  the cost of our grocery purchases.

Back  at the apartment after my uneventful shopping trip, I freeze the
grocery  items that need freezing and put the rest in the refrigerator or our
small  pantry, then fix our dinner. Robby's on the couch reading a book by
John  Sandford. It's one of Sandford's 'Prey' series. I make meatballs and we
have  spaghetti and meatballs, plus a salad and iced tea for dinner. After
Robby and I clean up the kitchen we organize our backpacks for tomorrow as an
 old 'Counting Crows' CD plays in the background. A little later we do out
bathroom before-bed ritual, then get in bed wearing boxer shorts just after
 nine o'clock. Propped-up on pillows we watch a classic movie on cable TV;
It's one of our favorite movies even though it was made before I was born.

It's  called, 'A Few Good Men', starring Jack Nicholson and Tom Cruise. We
both  shout out, "YOU CAN"T HANDLE THE TRUTH!!" along with Jack Nicholson at
that part of the movie. We've seen it three or four times before  tonight.

I  click off the movie shortly after they're dragging Jack Nicholson away
in  the courtroom. After turning out the lights, I get wrapped up in Robby's
arms  and sigh. We snuggling against each other until we're both
comfortable, then lie  silently together in the dark. It's so fucking nice going to bed
like this.  Robby's lazily dragging a finger through the hair before
turning his head and kissing my cheek, murmuring , "I love you." We  begin our
lover's make-out slowly, arousal and desire increasing with each  deep kiss.

Then I do some delicious oral sex for Robby  and that leads seamlessly into
anal sex. Tonight we do it in a  couple of different positions; the first one
bringing both of us to the edge of  climax before Robby slows down, stops;
and without awkwardness, like we've  choreographed it, we move into another
position. Robby's hard throbbing  boner slides up my ass again with us
murmuring sounds of exquisite sexual  pleasure. The slow thrusting with me now on
my back and Robby between my  legs on his knees that he's spread out on the
mattress. He's fucking  me while we're doing some more deep kissing.

Between the kisses we're both  making soft moaning sounds. I'm feeling such
exquisite pleasure  it brings tears to my eyes. His scent, the feel of his hard
body and  his sweet lips kissing mine goes on and on until my orgasm is on the
 brink of climax again; an intense sexual sensation that borders on  pain.

Unable to hold it back any longer the deliciously overwhelming  sensations
reach the highest pinnacle of sexual pleasure, followed by  an earth
shattering climax leaving me shaking and gasping for  breath, and then another peak
of pleasure when Robby, his body stiff, humps  against my buttocks makes a
desperate whining sound and filling me up with  his seed. Creamy warm cum
inside my rectum as my shoulders shudder and we clutch  each other, gasping as
our climaxes sizzle and then fade away leaving us  limp in each other's
arms. Now it's back to tender hugging and little  kisses with sighs of
contentment and feelings of a true love of a  lifetime. We haven't spoken a word for
twenty minutes and now lie here  very contented being us.

A  whispered, "I love you so  much," and we snuggle again, trying to avoid
the wet cum spots on the sheet  while awaiting sleep.  Another sigh from me
and as often happens after  making this kind of love with Robby I wonder
about having sex with anyone else.  Nights like tonight are a window into my
future that I can see clearer and  clearer as time goes by. It's times like
this that clarify and  emphasize Robby and I were meant for each other. When
married the only  sex I'll have is with Robby, and even though earlier today
I had really hot  sub/dom sex with Ryan the thought of being monogamist in
married life  doesn't scare me at all. It'll make our sex that much better,
that much  more important. For now though it's like I told Robby earlier: any
side-sex  that either of us has prior to our future monogamist married life
is  frivolous and meaningless when compared to our love-making together. No
matter  how hot my climaxes are with anyone else, and they're often
significantly  hot, they're still missing the ingredient that gives meaning to the
sex  act... love. Hell, climaxes felt good jerking off when I was thirteen,
and better  yet when I climaxed with a partner, even fat Carl, then better yet
when  having sex with Willie who I really liked, and then Ryan's sub/dom
sex  resulting in hotter climaxes than ever, but nothing is as satisfying or
as  special as sex with my true love. Robby and me making love together
renders  any other sex we may have as merely pleasant  youthful endeavors, but in
the end meaningless. Robby understands this as  well as I do and if others
can't, it's because they don't have a love like  ours.

After  a dreamless night's sleep we awake to Wednesday morning and the
beginning  of our junior year of college; that starts right now. Being  juniors
we're a lot more clued-in on how to set up our course schedule. For
instance, on Mondays our first class isn't until one o'clock in the afternoon.

That's because weekends can sometime be beer-intensive with late nights, so
sleeping-in Monday mornings is often more than a luxury; it's a necessity.

For Friday's we tried to avoid scheduling any class, but that didn't work out
so  we at least scheduled the class first thing in the morning and our only
one  of the day. It's almost like a three day weekend every week once that
class is  over. Friday's class is the only one Robby and I don't have
together; it's  the class I have with Ryan. Today, however, is the middle of the
week. Our  Wednesday and Thursday schedules are our busiest of the week with
three classes; two in the morning and then the afternoon one, and the
afternoon one is an hour and fifty minute class in  Middleton's lecture hall.

That's what we'll deal with today and  consequently we're up and at 'em at
eight o'clock this morning. Robby's all  business of course. A kiss good
morning, without much chatter. Then, while he  takes a quick shower I make us mugs
of coffees and fried egg sandwiches on  toast with cheese and ketchup. I eat
mine while making his and then bring  his into the bedroom. He's out of the
shower, mumbling, "Thanks, babe, that  looks good." He eats his breakfast
while getting dressed as  I'm showering. Then dressed, we're out of the
apartment by eight-thirty  with our backpacks over our shoulders.

Robby  drives to  our first class and we're standing outside the building
ten minutes  early making small talk with a few guys we know from previous
years. Inside  the building I follow Robby to the front of the room rolling my
eyes but  resigned to being labeled a front row brown-nosier. For this
course, Management  Supply Chain, we've got a short stocky woman professor with
a huge ass  and a clear speaking voice. She's dressed in a bright orange
sweater with a gray  skirt. Her sweater will keep me awake for sure. She told
us at orientation that  note-taking is important if we expect to do well on
the midterm and final  exams.  Textbooks out, notepad and pen ready, the
class begins. This is  a sixty minutes class, three times per week. The hours
spent in class at  college are less than we endured in high school, but
there's more work and  study requirements on our own after classes. Frankly  I
think college is easier than high school even though the subject matter is
harder. Working through the study materials alongside Robby  makes it easier;
two heads are better than one and working together makes the  time pass more
quickly than sitting  at my desk alone. I can't write down everything the
professor says, so I  cleverly don't write anything when Robby's taking notes,
then take my notes  when he's not taking his. Together we should have what
we need. Luckily  Professor McGovern likes telling us what a big shot she
was as part of  management at Pepsi Cola, which I'm pretty sure won't be on
the test, so only  about half the class requires either Robby or me taking
notes.

After class,  having a smoke, Robby says, "I saw what you were doing in
class and I think it's  brilliant. If I'm taking notes you don't need to, but
then you take notes when  I'm not. Good plan; let's do  that with all three
courses." I nod, then ask, "What'd you think of McGovern?"  He shrugs, "She's
tedious at times, but then so is the material. Just a course  to get a good
grade in and muddle through  somehow." We  have an hour to kill so we do it
in the quad having a Coke talking to a black  guy Robby knows from the
baseball team. His name is Lawyer Ross and he's a  rare one... a cute senior. By
senior year most guys have lost whatever  cuteness they had during their
teen-years, leaving it behind for their  young-adult look that's often
disappointing. Not so with Lawyer though. Looking  at Lawyer's bushy afro-like hairdo
I'm thinking I'd  really like to have a chance to give him a haircut
someday. In Marietta one of the guys on the work crew  was Sam Workman and I gave
him and his brothers haircuts a couple of times. It  seems, delicately put,
their mother had relations with a few different men one  of whom was a black
dude because his brother, Sly, definitely had a black daddy,  His hair was
similar to Lawyer's although Sly's brothers mostly had  blond hair. Anyway,
Lawyer has milk-chocolate-colored skin with mostly  European facial features
and a very sweet manner with an awesome grin, and he  does a lot of
grinning. I can tell he knows how attractive he is by the way he  lifts his
eyebrows and glances at me, full of confidence, but in a good way, not  arrogantly.

The eye contact we make indicates a chance he might be bisexual or  even
gay. I say that because he maintains eye contact longer then most  guys.

Lawyer's tall and plays outfield for the team. He's an animated
conversationalist, and a funny one too. I'd surely like to get to  know him better, but
can't imagine how I'd go about doing that.

We  leave Lawyer in the Quad, giving ourselves plenty of time to walk to
second  class. It's titled 'Niche Marketing (Intermediate)' and supposedly has
an easy  grading professor in the person of, Professor D'Angelo. I hope
she's an easy  grader because the woman speaks with a Middle Eastern accent
that I find hard to  follow. Maybe others do as well which is why she needs to
be an easy grader. It  wouldn't look too good for her if all her students
barely pass her course. She  has gray hair in a bun and is probably past sixty
years old. We're in the front  row again so I watch her closely and shortly
get the sense  that Professor D'Angelo is a  very nice person. Not sure why
exactly, but she just seems nice. Her accent  isn't as pronounced as I
thought it was during orientation, and she makes the  subject matter
interesting. Good thing too because this is a seventy-five  minute class, also three
days a week. Robby and I use our note-taking method,  although neither of us
take as many notes as we did during the first class.  By the end of class, no
matter that Professor D'Angelo is a nice woman, I'm  ready to get the hell
out of here. Getting back in the swing of sitting  in classrooms takes some
getting used to all over again. In a couple of  weeks we'll be numb to it
and  it'll be easier to deal with.

Lunch  is the next matter of business so Robby and I wear our backpacks
across campus  to where the pickup's parked and drive to a Friendly's
restaurant for  lunch. It's a little past noon so Friendly's is not real crowded yet,
and  we get seated and served pretty quickly. While we eat BLT sandwiches
with  glasses of iced tea we talk about buying cold cuts and rolls for
lunches in the  apartment. We can save money eating there and be more comfortable
too.  Plus, as Robby says, "Maybe have a noon-er once in a while." I'm very
pleased with how Robby's embracing the sexual side of our relationship. Not
that  I'm especially surprised though because, as I've thought many times
before,  I'm not the only oversexed one in our love affair. Every day I'm
realizing the  benefits of us sharing our apartment exclusively, and while I
miss seeing as  much of Chubby as I did the past two years, there's the
benefits of an available  spot for sex anytime we feel like it beings it's just
the two of us in the  apartment.

Back  on campus, smoking a cigarette, I'm noticing it's getting chillier
day by  day as it gets closer to October and consequently some guys are
breaking out hoodie sweatshirts. It used to be a highlight for me in high school
seeing a cute guy wearing a hoodie because it outlines his face and just
strikes me as sexy and cool-looking. As I've mentioned before, here at
college  many guys who were cute in high school have unfortunately lost it with
age and therefore the hoodie time of year has lost a lot  of it's luster  for
me here at Merrimack. Sure, I could hang-out at North Andover High and look
 at the cute teenage guys in hoodies; that's if I was a pervert, which I'm
not. No more high school for me. Of course there are exceptions to the rule
and  not every guy loses his  cuteness into his twenties; Lawyer Ross for
example, so I still glance at  guys in hoodies looking for the exceptions.

Emphasis on the word 'glance'  because if a guy catches me looking at him it's
one of those, 'What the fuck you  looking at?' situations.  I assume at
some age we'll all get over our  paranoia of being looked at and stop seeing it
as a challenge to our  manhood.

The  afternoon class, our last one of the day, is in a lecture hall with
rows of  seats sloping down to the professor at the floor below. This is a
Market  Research course with Professor James Peters, who is a youngish looking
guy  and quite good looking. Actually he looks our age, but is  actually
twenty-nine years old according to him. I verified that  by reading about him
online. Although he's still single, during  orientation I didn't notice any
gay vibes coming from him and, even if I did, so  what? It'd be interesting
though if he were gay. I've probably had a gay  teacher or two during my
schooling through the years, but didn't realize  it. In high school there aren't
that many male teachers and even less in middle  school, then none in
elementary school. In college I expected mostly male  professors, but that's not
the case here at Merrimack. It's been about  fifty/fifty, male/female
professors so far in the courses I've  taken.

The  afternoon Market Research class is the one Danny Monday has with Robby
 and me. I have to smile to myself at the argument Danny gives Robby about
where  to sit in the lecture hall. Robby prevails even though Danny's like,
"Dylan, do  you like sitting in front?" I go, "Nope," but we both follow
Robby down to the  third row. Nobody is sitting in rows one or two, so we're
effectively in the  first row. There are at  least a hundred and twenty-five
students in this class, all of them behind us so  I can't do any ogling of
hot guys, that's if there are any in this  class.

Professor  Peters, or James as I like to think of him, looks really good up
this  close, so there's at least that benefit of sitting in front. He has
that creamy  pale skin that always looks clean and new. Big green eyes that
he opens wide  when he's telling us something he thinks is amazing. Jimbo
really  likes his subject matter, and he likes student participation. He'll
state a  premise and ask for a volunteer to give an example. When we all look
at each  other without volunteering he's not deterred; he looks on his list
of student's  names and call out, "Raymond Winters, where are you?" We look
back, glad  he didn't call our name. A guy lifts his hand, saying, "I didn't
get that  far in the text yet." Everyone laughs including Jimbo, who says,
"I'm  merely giving you an example of how I teach. Tomorrow, Mr. Winters, and
all  of the rest of you, please read the first thirty-five pages in your
text so when  I call on you you'll have something informed to offer." He put a
little steel in  the last words so I'm disappointed in James. He's not
going to turn out  to be a good-looking professor prick, I hope. Please, James,
don't be  a hard-ass professor who takes himself and the subject material
too  seriously! Chill, you good looking dude.

It  remains to be seen if James goes off the deep end, but his energy and
enthusiasm  for the material makes the longish class pass quicker than I
expected. We even had two or three good laughs thanks to Jimbo's sense of
humor.  He also sprinkles in enough curse words so, I assume, he feels we'll
relate to  him better. After class Danny asks Robby, "Are you going to sit down
there every  class, Rob?" Robby nods his head and Danny shrugs, resigned to
the seating  arrangement. It's obvious who runs their show; that's if they
even have a  'show' for Robby to 'run'. Outside the building, done classes
for the day  at two-fifteen, Robby says to me, "Danny and I need to round-up
our freshman and  show them where everything is and what's expected of them."

I'm a little  startled every time Robby says the name 'Danny', meaning
Danny Monday, but  earlier this summer the name 'Danny' meant something
different to me.

Danny  says, "Yeah, Rob, but let's throw a ball around a little too, and
maybe even get some batting practice in the batting cage. We need to have
our freshman ready to join in with fall practice starting Monday." Robby
mutters, "Yeah, the coach can be a prick if the freshmen screw up, and  he'll
blame us, not them." Then he asks, "What are you gonna do, Dylan?" I  shrug,
"I'll come down with you guys and sit in the stands watching for  a while,
then maybe see if anyone's at the Quad. Play it by ear I guess." He pats my
back, "We'll get in a routine soon enough, babe. Fall practice only lasts
three  weeks, then I'll be hanging-out with you full time." So obviously those
two  have got their shit together and it's funny, but I seriously don't
feel  jealous of Robby's and Danny's time together. It's kinda cool that
Danny's like  me in that we both let Robby be the alpha dog. So I'm not the only
one who looks  up to Rob Dickers.

It's  a ten minute walk past the hockey rink to the baseball park that's a
pretty  little thing with a four foot brick wall around the perimeter. There
 are two entrances and, for games, you need a ticket to get in although
they  never have big crowds for baseball games. Hockey is the primary sport at
Merrimack with the hockey team very competitive among NCAA Division II
colleges  and universities. Merrimack is too small for a Division I sports
program. Robby and Danny go in the 'Team Personnel Only' entrance past  someone
at the door verifying they're baseball personnel. I'm not of  course, so I
wander in through the spectator entrance and surprisingly  there are a few
other students sitting in the stands watching the players on the  field
practicing. No coaches allowed until Monday. There are rules about that;  not that
I know what they are. I sit halfway up the bleachers wishing I'd worn a
hoodie myself. The sun is already beginning to fade and after  daylight saving
 time and the clock is turned back  an hour it'll be dark by four-thirty.

Gruesome few months after that,  except I suppose it's favorable for the
vampires among us. I can hear chippy  comments from the ball players and
laughter as they show off their  exceptional eye-hand coordination; a gift they
were born with, and  therefore take it for granted.


I  don't see Robby for half an hour and then he comes out with Danny,
Golden, and a  big kid, who's almost certainly Danny's freshman responsibility.

Danny  claims the guy's an asshole. Ha ha, and he looks like an asshole too.

He  has a swarthy complexion and average  facial features but with long
black hair; female length to  his shoulders. Big shoulders and he's like four
inches taller than Danny, so the  guy's about six foot-three. He looks more
like a football player than  a baseball player. The four of them jog around
the parameter of the  outfield twice, then take a break and walk back to the
infield getting bottles  of water. I watch some sort of confrontation between
the big guy and his mentor,  Danny. Robby steps in between them and he must
have said something  funny because all three of them laugh. Five minutes
later they're doing  wind sprints and they keep it up for ten minutes before
resting again, this time  in the dugout where I can't see them. I'm checking
out the players on the field,  one by one, concluding that Robby and Danny
are the best looking guys on the  team. Golden's okay except for his
fucked-up chin, and he's on the short  side too. There's a slim kid who I don't
recall from last year's team. He's  fielding grounders at third base and has
potential to be the third cute guy on  the team. He's got his baseball cap on
of course, but the hair on the sides and  back of his head is very short and
looks like it's pale  red from  here. Good body and he has a big smile
obviously loving what he's doing and, I  don't know, I can't see his face clearly
but he strikes me as maybe being cute.  I know one thing; he has cannon for
an arm throwing from third to first across  the diamond. Wow! Amazing
someone so slim has a arm like that.

Moving  my seat to get closer to the third baseman, only to see him move to
shortstop  now. Dammit!  Turning my attention to the batter's box I'm
watching guys  hitting pitched balls from a pitching machine in the batting cage.

Jeez, they  make it look so easy when I know that's it isn't; not when
balls come out  that fast from the machine. I hear rustling and footsteps on the
bleacher seats  behind me and then Frankie's on one side of me and Beth's
on the other, both  putting their arm through mine on either side of me. They
hug my arm leaning  against me, saying, "Guess who?" Big smiles on the
girls who, as usual, are full  of energy. They seem to be shimmering even when
stationary. Bubbling  energy! I go, "Good afternoon, fan club. Hey, where's
your sign?" Frankie looks  pouty, saying, "Rob said not to bring one, and
anyway we should wait for the  real games next spring where there'll be more
fans in the stands. That's when  we'll have our fan club sign." Beth asks, "Is
Rob on the field?" and Frankie  points to right field where Robby and Danny
are loosening up their throwing arms  playing catch  with their freshmen. I
assume Robby and Golden are waiting for their turn to use  the infield.

Danny's playing the outfield this year and I'm guessing the large  freshman
he's mentoring is probably an outfielder too.

The  girls talk Red Sox baseball with me and it turns out they know
baseball  like real fans of the game know baseball' they're not frauds. They know
their  stuff and I learn Frankie's dad has had four season tickets along the
first base line at Fenway Park. They're complimentary seats bought through
her father's cleaning company. The same seats for almost twenty- years now.

That  gets my attention naturally. I've never sat in ground level box seats
at  Fenway. I've been in what they 'call' box seats, but the seats were
across the  aisle from ground level boxes and half way up the first section of
seats.  They're actually grandstand seats called box seats so the Red Sox
can charge  more for them. If Robby stays friends with Francesca we could be
sitting in  those seats this coming summer. That would be cool, and if the
girls would  let go of my arms I could feel cool myself. Thinking about it, it
makes sense  that Rob and I make friends with these girls. I mean, after
all we should  have some female friends; box seats or not. Well, obviously,
it's better with  the box seats and free ones too! I ask the girls, "Could I
get you girls a  soda or something?" The food stations aren't operating but
there are vending  machines. Instead of answering me, Beth takes Ryan's
Merrimack baseball cap  from my head and puts it on, saying, "Nothing for me,
Dylan, but can I wear your  hat?" I look out at the diamond where Robby's
fielding grounders and  see he has a hat on, although not his hat because
Frankie's  wearing it. I do a fake cough, mumbling, "Um, let me buy you a hat,
Beth, that  one has sentimental value for me." She goes, "No, I'm wearing this
one." She  pushes her ponytail through the opening in the back where the
adjustable band  is. I reach for it and she goes, "NO! Don't be like that,
Dylan." Hmmm,  what a bitch! And I thought they weren't annoying. Well, I'm not
getting into a  wrestling match with her, and then there are box seats to
consider, but I  want that fucking hat back before I leave. I rub my nose,
muttering, "I want the  fucking hat back before you leave." She hugs my arm
tighter, saying, "Of course,  sweetie." The hat won't be the same now though. It
was only Ryan and me who  wore it until now. The mystique of the hat is
kinda ruined with Beth wearing it.  Fucking girls, ya know?
Even  with the hat fiasco Frankie gets me laughing with her comments about
each player  on the field, and she knows more then half  of the players by
name. She's the funnier of the two, but Beth pretty funny  herself and I soon
forget about the hat and invite them to have dinner with  Robby and me
tonight at the apartment. Oh my God, you'd think they just won a  lottery,
hugging me and getting all excited, saying how sweet I am and kissing  me on the
cheek. They both smell good, although it's an artificially  enhanced scent
with subtle perfumes. Different ones.  Hmmm, I'll  defrost one of the whole
chickens in the microwave and have a chicken  dinner with mashed potatoes and
gravy. Then I'm wondering where these  girls live. I mean, it has to be
somewhere in Massachusetts if  Francesca's father has Red Sox box seats. I ask
and they tell me they  live in Boston's Back Bay. They wanted to go to a
suburban college to get away  from the city, but still be close enough to go
home on weekends whenever they  felt like it. The Back Bay is an expensive
part of Boston, so huh...  interesting.

As  the two girls chatter away I notice a couple of guys in the stands a
few isles down who are looking back at the three of us. Two  girls,
attractive girls too, hanging on me talking across me. It's like those  guys are
thinking I'm this stud on campus with two babes hanging all over me. It  makes
me grin and snort out a laugh. One of the guys is pretty cute too. What an
unusual situation, although not a bad one at all. I give the guys a
nonchalant  nod of my head and the cute one, wearing a hoodie, gives me a thumbs up.

Maintaining eye contact with him, I grin back and he sort of moves his head
to  the side to stare back at me. Whoa, he should have broken eye contact
long ago  the way nine guys out of ten would have done. Most guys break eye
contact  almost before they make it with another guy. Hoodie boy just might
be the one in  ten though. Giving him a smirk, I let my eyes drift away as
Frankie says to me,  "You naughty boy, Dylan. I'm telling Rob you're flirting
with that guy." I ask,  "Do you think that guy's cute?" and she brazenly
gawks directly at the guy,  who turns away and says something to the friend
he's with. That guy turns to  look at Frankie for a second, then gives her the
finger. Frankie looks at  me, saying, "That asshole flashed me the bird." I
mutter, Yeah, I saw that, but  what about the other guy?" She hugs my arm
tighter, saying, "Well yeah, of  course he's cute. He's cute, and he's hot.

He's interested in you though,  not Beth or me so it looks like he's on your
team." Beth's like, "Which guy?"  and they both look at the hoodie cutie and
agree he's probably gay. When I  look over again the two guys are walking
down the bleachers on their way  out. It's interesting to hear girls confirm a
guy's cuteness though. He's  about Ryan's size, meaning on the small side,
and actually looks too young to  even be a freshman. He might be a high
school student sitting with his  older brother, who's maybe a Merrimack
freshman. In any case they're gone.  Huh. But we connected somehow; I could feel it.

Maybe he could be my  'Wildwood Charlie' here at college. Ha ha, wouldn't
that  be something...


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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