Date: Tue, 27 Sep 2016 11:03:29 -0400
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter  8

DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE


Chapter  8


by  Donny Mumford


I'm  sitting in the stands at the baseball park with Frankie, aka
Francesca, and  her friend, Beth. The girls are on either side of me with their arms
wrapped around one of mine. We're watching Robby  practicing with Danny
Monday, Golden Summers, and Danny's unnamed  freshman. I'm told Danny's
freshman is an asshole, but the four of  them seem to be getting along just fine so
I'm not sure about the 'asshole'  part. Obviously I'd be enjoying myself
more if Frankie and Beth  weren't insisting on our sitting arrangement as it's
a bit a awkward for  me. Three guys in the stands to my right glance over
at me and the girls  occasionally, perhaps thinking I'm a hot stud with two
girlfriends... ha-ha.  Yeah, but I'm willing to sacrifice the 'stud'
misconception for a  little breathing room. Also, Beth's annoyingly taken procession
of my baseball cap; I suppose she's imitating the way Frankie  took
procession of Robby's original baseball hat. Neither Robby nor I  are the least bit
happy about the hat thefts, but not having much  experience dealing with
girls we're not sure what to do about  it.

The  hat Beth is now wearing was originally Ryan's Merrimack baseball cap.

It's the one the team gave him way back during his freshman year for  being
the baseball team's equipment manager. The hat is nicely  broken-in by now,
so preferable to a new one. And, ha, it also has  some sentimental value to
me. I remember the Friday Ryan gave  me the hat. It was early into my
Marietta experience and right after  one of the ridiculous haircuts Ryan was
giving me every week. It had  to be early in the summer because I was still
whining about how short the  haircuts were. Chuckling at my whining, he tossed
his hat at me,  saying something like, 'Here ya big baby, wear my hat if
you're  so self conscious about  your haircut.' That  was during his stern
period when he was the boss at work and in-charge  of me in general. I stopped
whining about the haircuts after the first two or  three of them. Finally
realizing he  didn't care if I whined or not. Ryan was a happy camper and quite
pleased  with himself about my haircuts. Thinking back to my Georgia days,
Ryan  enjoyed every day; he had zero moody periods in Georgia. Obviously
now, here at Merrimack, Ryan's not his happy Marietta self, and  that's
becoming a problem. Anyway, I've grown attached to that damn  hat.

Thinking  about Georgia brings to mind the buddy-sex Ryan and I engaged in
during my stay at his house. Lots of buddy-sex in Georgia! Yesterday,
however,  was our only buddy-sex since he got here. As a matter of fact it was my
 buddy-sex at college this year! That's discounting the quickie with Tracy
of course. Actually it's a relief to know I have at least one  serious
side-sex buddy at college. For a while there I wasn't sure I could  even count
on Ryan. He's in an okay mood now although the unfortunate  word that occurs
to me for describing Ryan's behavior since  arriving at  Merrimack is:
petulant. I wouldn't tell Ryan that because he'd  get even more petulant, that's
if I can go by past experiences with him the  last few days. In an effort to
bring him out of his mood I suggested that  he be my boss when I'm not with
Robby. You know, bring a touch of Georgia  here to college for him. Silly
arrangement obviously, childish even, but  basically harmless. Whatever, I'm
trying that to see if I can  get Ryan's mood to improve. It's like, after
seeing his  self-image improve  significantly last summer, I'd hate to see him
regress. He has perked  up a little bit.

As  light begins fading at the ballpark the players drift, in small groups,
into the  clubhouse. Instead of the clubhouse, Robby and Golden come right
up in the  stands where we're sitting with the girls acting like the guys
are rock stars.  They both try being blasé about it, but I can tell they like
the  attention. It's unspoken, but understood, the girls are just having fun
and  aren't really as air-headed as they pretend. I tell Robby, "Guess
what? I've invited your entire fan club for dinner tonight at the  apartment."

He gives me a strained smile, like, 'Why the fuck would you do  that?' Then,
recovering, he mumbles an unconvincing, "Awesome," then  asks Golden,
"Would you care to join us?" Golden goes, "You bet, thanks!"  They go into the
locker room to drop off equipment while my girlfriends and  I wander over to
the exit. Frankie says, "Beth and I need time to get  spruced up for your
dinner party, Dylan." I roll my eyes at that and Beth  asks, "What's your
address, sweetie?" I tell her and she logs it into her  cellphone, asking,
"Should we dress up for dinner?" Trying to remember why the  fuck I invited them,
I'm like, "Um, what? Oh, no, don't get  dressed-up, but if you want to take
showers that'd be okay." That  didn't come out right, but they laugh as both
of them smack my shoulder, saying,  "We shower all the time!"

When  Robby and Golden join us, Frankie lets go of my arm to capture one of
Robby's,  while Beth's doing the same with Golden. They've abandoned me so
I mumble a  version of Golden's line from yesterday, "Two-timing bitches,"

and they  laugh. Jeez though, it would drive me crazy having a girl hanging
on my arm like  that day in and day out. Walking towards the dormitories I
spot the hoodie  kid I saw in the bleachers earlier. He's sitting on the steps
of the first  dormitory we're approaching and smoking a cigarette talking
with two other  guys. Huh, maybe he is a freshman, although I initially
thought he  looked too young to be in college. I don't recognize either of the
guys he's  with, but I'm positive he's the kid from the stands. Too late I
realize I'm  staring at him and one of the guys Hoodie Boy's with taps Hoodie's
arm and  points at me. We make eye contact with him grinning at me. I
immediately  avert my eyes feeling my face getting hot. Balls!
Half  a minute later, smelling the back of my hand, I take a chance and
glance over  again and see Hoodie boy's still looking my way. He nods his head
at me  while exhaling a lot of cigarette smoke. Damn he looks cool. I think
I nod  back at him but I'm not sure because I immediately looked away again.

Fuck!  It's embarrassing  getting caught glancing at him a second time.

Jesus, I'm acting like the  nervous freshman and he's acting like the
experienced junior. Yeah, but I  felt some kind of connection with Hoodie both times
we made eye contact.  Still, I can't imagine how anything meaningful could
develop between us.  The chances of meeting him in any significant manner are
almost zero. He's  a freshman and I'm a junior and we're unlikely to be at
the same place at  the same time, never mind in a circumstance where we
could discuss  things. Wait, Tracy's Speak Easy might be a place  that a chance
meeting with Hoodie Boy could happen. It's still a long  shot though, and
I'm not sure anything would come from a chance meeting  anyway.

We're a  block past his dormitory when the girls and Golden turn into
dormitory  row. Robby and I wave at them and keep going straight towards the
parking lot and Robby's pickup. Merrimack has a lot of parking lots  and some
of them are huge. Robby says, "Okay, Dylan, let's hear  it: why the hell did
you invite the girls for dinner?" I shrug because  I really don't remember
why... it just happened. It's like I didn't want the  girls to think I was
dumping on them, or something along those lines. Trying to  rationalize my
reason, I tell Rob about the girls' parents living  in Boston and how
Francesca's father has ground level box seats at Fenway  Park. Plus I suggest to
Robby we'll be more rounded socially having a  few female friends. He laughs at
that, and asks, "Which one of those  two reasons would you say carries the
most weight with you?" I mumble,  "I've never sat in Fenway's ground-level
box seats." We both chuckle at  that, and then I realize I'll need to prepare
the entire dinner myself.  There'll be no help from Chubby tonight. Hmmm,
maybe I need to teach Robby to  cook, but when I suggest it to him, he goes,
"Oooh, nooo, babe! That's your  department. I've got zero aptitude for food
preparation. Christ, I fuck-up  scrambling eggs."  Huh, that's convenient!
First  thing we do back at the apartment is follow Robby's study plan,
which means  completing all homework assignments before doing anything else. As
we're  just finishing up with that we hear the front doorbell. Robby says,
"If  you'll get the door, I'll put this stuff in our backpacks." Opening the
door I see Golden, and he has his roommate with him. That's unexpected so
I'm looking at him quizzically, and he says defensively, "I asked Rob and
he said it was okay." I go, "Oh, of course it's okay," and hold my hand out
to  his roommate, saying, "Hi, I'm Dylan." He smiles, "Nice to meet you,
Dylan. I'm  Jake Darling and, as you already know, I'm Golden's roommate. Thanks
 for the invite." I nod, grinning, while saying, "Nice haircut, Jake." He
grins back at me nodding his head at Golden, who shrugs, mumbling, "I'm his
barber and he's my driver." Golden has his long wavy light-brown hair
parted in  the middle tonight. It hangs down just outside his eyes, covering his
ears. It's  one of those deals where he needs to run the fingers of both
hands, starting  from the middle of his forehead, moving his fingers quickly in
opposite  directions getting the hair away from his eyes. He does it every
thirty seconds or so, probably without thinking about it. Really nice
hair, but too long for a guy. I say to Golden, "Nice arrangement; you're Jake's
barber and he's got the car, so he's your driver." He shrugs, and as they
come  in, I ask, "Who's your barber, Golden?" Without hesitating, he says,
"My  friend, Alex, back home. He graduated from Paul Mitchell's Hair Stylist
programs  last year. He styled my hair before he even went to the school. Um,
he's been  doing it since I was a teen actually. We're best buds." He
answered my  question like it was a serious one, where I was actually being
sarcastic  inferring he needs a barber. I nod my head, asking, "Did he teach you
how to cut  your brothers' hair?" He goes, "Nah, I was doing that even
before Alex started  giving me haircuts. He's working in a women's salon doing
their hair, not guys."  Well, Golden does have sort of a woman's hairstyle, or
a guy's one  from an earlier generation.

I  say, "I read online that since the turn of the century, with the
growing popularity of buzz cuts and shorter hair for men and boys, there's  been
more home haircutting-kit sales then ever before. Something like  ten
times..."  Interrupting  the haircutting talk, Robby joins us and bumps fist with
Jake,  saying, "Nice to see you again, Jake. I guess you're looking  forward
to playing on the freshman hockey team," and they do some jock  talk while I
drift into the kitchen to defrost a chicken in the  microwave. Luckily it's
a big chicken. Defrosting meat in a microwave takes more  time then you
might think. Plus, I need to stand near the microwave because  every minute or
so the microwave beeps and I need to turn the chicken  over. Pain in the
ass, but the dinner was my dumb-ass idea so, ya know... The  girls aren't here
yet and I don't expect them for an hour, but since the guys  are early
arrivals Robby's passes out beers and the three of them go  out on the balcony
leaving me to do all the work.

Jake  is my height, but much stockier. He probably weights fifty pounds
more than I  do, but then he's a hockey player and needs the extra bulk for
crashing  into the boards during hockey games, or whatever. I'm not much of a
hockey  fan. Jakes dark hair has been cut by Golden just like Robby's and
mine. His  eyes are dark brown and overall he's okay looking except his nose is
 too long. He's clean shaven and basically just your average looking jock
with a touch of arrogance in the way he carries himself, but that's not
unusual  for jocks. Guys who have been among the best athletes in their middle
and high  school years tend to  believe they're special, and in a way I guess
they are. Robby's never had a big  ego like that though, which is one of
the reasons he's popular with his  teammates. While thinking these thoughts
I'm putting the defrosted  chicken in the preheated oven. Robby comes in off
the balcony to  get the CD player rocking some tunes, then he comes over and
stands  behind me with his hands on my shoulders watching me peel a potato.

As I drop  the peeled potato in a pot of water, Robby goes, "Hell, I can do
that,  Dylan. Let me help." Well okay, Rob! As he peels potatoes I make
coleslaw and we  talk a little about Jake. Robby feels pretty much the same way
I do, saying,  "Ah, Jake's your typical high school athlete thinking he's a
hot shit. He's  not a bad guy though. Golden says he's been a good roommate
so far." The  potatoes get peeled by Robby, the coleslaw's in  the
refrigerator, and after I dump a box of frozen peas in a pan of  water we join the
guys on the balcony. Later I'll make gravy, mash the  potatoes and carve the
chicken. Or maybe Robby can carve the  chicken. Jake's like, "What's for
dinner, Dougie?" I go, "It's Dylan, and  we're having roast chicken, mashed
potatoes and gravy,  coleslaw...  like that." He goes, "Cool, sounds okay."

The  girls show up and there's lots of chatter and laughing from them. Both
girls  have this unique, infectious good humor about them that's appealing.

They  don't act like any girls I've ever known. No that's not entirely true
 because a couple of the posse boys' girlfriends were very easy to get
along with  too. The best part about Beth and Frankie is they don't do that
silly-ass giggling all the time. Jake tries coming-on to Beth like  he's this
stud jock, but I can tell Beth isn't impressed with him,  although she's
being nice about it. Naturally Jake doesn't pick up on her  lack of interest so
I'm grinning to myself and getting a kick out of that.  The dinner turns out
pretty good although it's more or less taken for  granted by our guests. I
almost feel like they think it's my  obligation to provide dinner for
everyone. At least Robby has the manners  to say, "Thanks, Dylan, the dinner was
delicious." Meanwhile Jake, Golden,  and both girls are mostly talking about
the renovated dining halls  they're assigned to, and they're trying to outdo
each other as to which dining  hall has the best food. I'm thinking that
it's fortuitous for them they're  so pleased with their dining hall food
because that's where they'll be  eating from now on if it's up to me. I'm not
making anymore grandiose  gestures of inviting people for a free dinner that
Robby and I pay for  and I need to prepare. No more invitations from me.

By  the time everyone leaves it's past  ten o'clock and the kitchen looks
like a tornado hit it. Robby and I look at the  mess in the kitchen, then
look at each other. Shrugging, we methodically  begin cleaning-up and putting
things away. It takes only like fifteen minutes to  get the place cleaned-up,
the dishwasher running, and the trash taken out, but  it's far from a fun
fifteen minutes. I decide not to mention the  lack of appreciation shown by
our dinner guest for fear it'll sound  whiney. Then, while turning out the
lights, Robby goes, "Maybe we need to  be less hospitable, Dylan. Our guests
tonight weren't falling all over  themselves thanking us. Mostly I'm
surprised the girls weren't more  appreciative. As for myself I thought you did an
awesome job  and the dinner was exceptional." I go, "Oh, thanks, Rob, you're
sweet.  I agree though, it was my bad idea inviting them for dinner, but I'm
 telling you now it won't happen again any time soon. No more random dinner
 invitations."

We do  our bathroom stuff, including a shower that we take together,
managing not  to have sex while we're doing it. With the lights out we're in bed
wearing boxer  shorts, talking about the beginning of our junior year and
deciding it been a  bit exhausting. Not so exhausting we go to sleep without a
sexy time together  though. It's hard to imagine not having sex when you're
in bed almost naked with  the guy you're in love with. We start off just
casually rubbing our hands  on each other as we talk about today, and then
we're rubbing our noses together  and kissing. From there things take care of
themselves and seem to happen  naturally and wonderfully on their own. There's
growing arousal from the feel  and scent of each other's smooth tight
bodies, our sexy natural  male muscle definition feels good, and the added
attraction for me  is Robby's sparse beard against my cheek. Too much stimulation
to ignore  even if I wanted to, which I don't.

When  we've so sexually-aroused we're moaning like two animals in  heat,
our boners take over complete control of our brains and I abruptly  flop over
onto my stomach while Robby rustles around on the  mattress getting in back
of me, between my legs. I go up on my knees, my  face in my pillow, as a
squeaky whine of anticipation slips out of my  mouth and then a gasp from
Robby; then, some unexpected smacks  on my left butt cheek. Three hard, "SMACK!
SMACK! SMACK!" and, without a  word,  "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" on my other butt
cheek. My anus closes  tightly so Robby uses both hands kneading each
stinging butt cheek getting  both of them feeling warm, then hot. It gets me hot
too and my boner  tightens-up almost painfully now as precum drips down onto
the  sheets. Spreading  my butt cheeks Robby's thumb gets pushed into my
asshole and the pad of it rubs  my prostate; more precum drools out of my hard
cock. I'm positively  going to cum, there's no question about that, except
I don't cum. The  muscles in my anus tightly hug the thumb as Robby fucks my
asshole with it,  the thumb nail tantalizingly scraping the wall of my
rectum making me squirm on  the bed scrunching my face and expecting to climax,
but again I don't. His thumb  goes back and forth,  back and forth, then he
pulls it out and my anus lips close again, but  limply now compared to their
tightness after the spanking. Another deep breath  by Robby as the hard
head  of his cock, wet with precum, presses against my anus separating the lips...

 I  shudder, then moan. A little pressure and the head pushes past my
sphincter. We both moan, then a hard hip thrust and three inches of  fat hard
cock goes up my ass filling me up back there so awesomely my  shoulders do
their shuddering thing. Robby leans against my buttocks  forcing the last of
his cock inside my body. He cups under my hips with  both hands, his spread
fingers almost touching my boned-up cock that's  now up against my belly. The
deliberate way Robby's  silently doing everything gets me very sexually
excited. I interpret  it as him being dominant, so I do my submissive part by
purposely pushing  my ass up as a sign my ass is his to do with as he wishes.

Fuck it; I'll  create my own sub/dom sex in my head.

Robby  slowly withdraws his engorged penis, the big hard head pressing
against  and tantalizing my prostate while the shaft's igniting  the thousands
of nerve endings around my anus. Oh my God! I'm biting  the pillow now and
moving my knees, taking deep shuddering breaths.  His quick intrusion hurt and
felt magnificently good simultaneously. He slowly  pulls back his boner;
back, back, back until the pulpous head is distending the  lips of my asshole,
then that fat hard cock gets pushed back up my ass just  as slowly as he
pulled it back. Again my shoulders do their involuntary  shuddering, this time
with shivers going up and down my spine. Robby lets out a  long exhale that
creates a warm breeze on my back. A few humps against my  buttocks
increases my anticipation level, then he starts fucking my ass  fast and hard,
"Slapslapslapslap." Only pleasure sensations now; the pain long  forgotten. This
is the only sex I've had today and I assume the same for Robby,  so tonight
it's basically a rush to orgasm; a horny need both  of us is feeling. Each
of us would be the other's first choice to have sex  with, but that's not
what's primarily on either of our minds at the moment. We  both want to
experience the indescribable thrill of climax, a thrill we haven't  felt all day.

Sexual climax, having an orgasm, is something most of us want to  experience,
but now that we're used to experiencing it as frequently as  we've been
doing it lately, that frequency creates a need in  us, which Robby's taking
care of right now. There's the  normal moaning and deep breathing from Robby as
he thrusts his hard organ  back and forth in my rectum creating sizzling
sensations inside me like nothing  else can match, sensations creating pulsing
vibrations of my nuts, and  at the head of my hard cock.

Climaxes  build and build and so do my expectations and anticipations, but
with contrary desires. On the one hand I want to have the best orgasm
imaginable, and I mean right this fuckin' second, but on the other hand I  want
this unbelievably awesome feeling to continue forever. The climax wins the
race every time and we have ours climaxes simultaneously, like occasionally
happens. My pelvic muscles contract, my heart rate and blood  pressure
increase, and then with a squeal... BOOM! Euphoric pure  pleasure and
wonderfulness as my autonomic nervous system takes over and  my climax explodes. The
intense pleasure of orgasm lasts from five to  twenty seconds for me, and
then it's in a drifting mode of pleasant  aftereffect... a limp relaxed
contended sense. After having an orgasm with  Robby there's a spike of deep love
for him in my heart which is a  major part of the after effects. After
climaxing with someone other  than Robby I need to settle for being temporarily
contended and sexually  satisfied, which is pretty fucking good too. With Robby
it's all  that plus the loving feeling and therefore I have my best
climaxes and best after effects with him. Tonight it's the spectacular  feeling of
his creamy load being shot up my ass at the same time I'm  squealing at the
cum pumping out of my boner and shooting up on my chest, cum  spray hitting
under my chin, then it happens again and I could cry it feels  so fucking
good. How anything can feel so good, yet be so fleeting, is  Nature's little
teasing-joke on all of us. Robby and I ignore the cum  wetness on the bed,
and our bodies, as we're hugging and kissing in between  murmured words of
love. The immediate emotions of love after the sex act calms  down slowly and
then I think it's me who falls asleep first tonight, and  how perfect to do
so in Robby's strong arms with his scent in my head along with  the sweet
memory of our latest sex together.

Thursday  morning I wake up with  Robby pulling on my ear as he grins down
at me. Without speaking we come  together and have sex in the morning. Oh
what a wonderful way to start the  day. This morning it's partially lover's
sex with some playfulness thrown  in for good measure. Robby fucks me  face to
face with me on my  back, my legs pulled back and his hard cock thrusting
inside me. Face to  face like this we can kiss as his hips rhythmically drive
his  hard cock back and forth in my rectum. I feel an orgasm coming on
quickly  and, as happens sometimes, I climax in less then two  minutes. It felt
fantastic but it's disappointing to cum so quickly with Robby.  Everything
about him really turned me on this morning so I got overly aroused.  Then
there's the memories of last night's sex in my mind; another reason it
happened for me too fast this morning. Robby continues driving his hard  boner back
and forth with his face close to mine, my arms around the back of his  neck
as we look into each other's eyes. I'm thrusting up as he's thrusting  down
and it goes on for so long I almost have a  rare second climax during the
same sex act. Robby's body finally gets  stiff, his face gets scrunched-up
and he blows his load up my ass,  then collapsed on me dragging his cock from
my ass and we lie here  breathing deeply.

Finally  he lifts his head, grinning at me, saying, "Good morning, Dylan.

Nice morning,  isn't it?" I smile and hug him, mumbling, "Wicked awesome,
Rob." To save time we  shower together again and then leave the apartment
without breakfast, or even a  mug of coffee. I'll sacrifice the coffee for sex
any morning of the week. As it  turns out we have time to buy paper cups of
coffee at the Quad and take them  with us to first class, just making it on
time. It's feels awkward  drinking coffee in the front row of class, although
Robby doesn't seem  bothered by it and neither does the nice Professor
McGovern, who smiles at us,  asking, "Running a little late this morning, boys?"

As a reward for her  considerate attitude I give her one of my major smiles,
the one that gets  people optimistically undressing. The Professor,
however, manages  to control herself amazingly well. This class, and the two that
follow play  out much like they did yesterday. What's different today is,
after second  class, Robby and I drive to Stop & Shop to buy cold cuts and sub
rolls for  lunch at the apartment.

As we  take the groceries inside the apartment, Robby says, "I can make
sandwiches,  Dylan, so I'll be in charge of lunches, okay?" I shrug, "Sure
thing, Rob." While  he makes the sub sandwiches I go online and reply to emails
and texts  received from, among others: Charlie in Delaware, Willie who's at
 a college in New York, Seth who tells me he got promoted at Dickers and
Son, there's a funny text from Chubby when he was in his second class of  the
day, typed in class of course, and an email from Connor who's in the  Army
stationed in Texas. Every email or text makes me smile and feel good.  When
Robby calls me for lunch I see he's made Italian subs of hard salami,
provolone cheese, tomato, onion, and hot cherry peppers. Virgin olive oil and a
sprinkling of dried oregano were spread inside of the sub rolls before he
added the other ingredients, and I'm like, "Goddamn, Rob, this is  a good
Italian sub!" and it is too!  We drink Cherry Coke with  the subs, then have
slices of Key Lime pie for dessert. Nice  lunch.

The  afternoon class is over by two-fifteen and Robby's again going to the
baseball complex. I half want to go with him to sit in the stands watching
him  on the field and enjoying the weak sun while it's still with us. The
drawback to that is I except the girls will probably be there too. Avoiding
a repeat of yesterday, I tell Robby to text me when he's ready to leave and
I'll drive the pickup down to get him. He gives me the pickup's keys and
his  backpack. After dropping off our backpacks in the pickup, now  I'm not
sure what to do. Then, lighting a cigarette, a picture  of Hoodie Boy drifts
into my head. Huh, I should  buy a Merrimack hoodie! It's a nice day so I
decide to walk to the  bookstore that's on the other side of the campus. The
book store sells  books of course, plus anything they can put the Merrimack
logo on. On the way  across campus I see a guy walking ahead of me who's about
the  same size as Ryan. He's hatless with the same  nineteen-seventies
longish  hairdo Ryan has. It's light brown hair too, just like Ryan's. Hmmm,
maybe it's  Ryan... ha ha. He's with a guy taller than him, so I know it's not
his  roommate because Steve's not tall. It might be the tall acquaintance of
Ryan's who owed him twenty bucks from sophomore year; the guy I saw two days
ago  right before Ryan's and my orientation class.

They're  ahead of me going my way so I follow them without calling out to
Ryan.  I'm aware that this is kind of a sneaky thing to do, but curiosity
wins out.  Before reaching the book store they turn left towards the two  new
dormitories, the ones Merrimack had built last summer. I  hesitate now
because it's out of the way for me, but then  I continue following them until they
go inside the second  dormitory. I stop and think about it. I'd like to see
what the new dorms look  like inside, but if I run into Ryan what reason
could I give for me being there?  Yeah, that's not a good idea. I'll ask him
about it tomorrow when we have  our class together. Yeah, that's it; I'll
tell him I was on my way to the  book store when I saw him headed for the new
dorms. Of course now I'm going to  need to buy something at the book store no
matter if I like their hoodies or  not. Ya know, in case he asks what I
bought.

As  I'm retracing my steps to get headed in the right direction for the
book store again, I'm thinking there was something unusual about how those
two were walking together. One of them was walking too closely to the  other.

One of them was in the other guy's space, so to  speak. I'd be shocked if
Ryan's gotten himself into another situation where some  dominant sadist
asshole is treating him like shit, so that leaves the  tall guy walking too
closely to Ryan. Could it be Ryan's found himself a  submissive sex buddy that I
don't know about? That  seems unlikely because he's got me, and when would
he have had time during the  last three days to develop a submissive sex
buddy? It's not someone  from last year because Ryan was tied-up, literally at
times, with his asshole  roommate until late in the last semester when I
saved his ass. So it's a  mystery, which probably has a simple explanation. It's
all very curious  though.

There's  no line at the book store now that the semester has begun, but
there always  seems to be students in here. I wander around checking out
various clothing  items. Everything is made with Merrimack's colors of course,
which are Navy blue  and gold. I settle on a lightweight hoodie sweatshirt
that's Navy blue with gold  lettering spelling out WARRIORS on the front. The
lettering is  tastefully done and not gaudy like on some of the other clothing
 apparel. All twenty-four varsity teams at Merrimack are nicknamed
'Warriors',  and therefore that word on the front of my hoodie. It only cost $49.99
so  it's not a rip-off at all. Outside the bookstore I dump the plastic bag
in a  trashcan and rip the price tag off the hoodie, then pull the
sweatshirt over my  head. I choose a large although medium is plenty big enough for
me. It's just  that I like sweatshirts that are too big because it's the
sloppy-look; the  I-don't-give-a-shit kind of look that I like. I've got the
hood up and  this thing feels good so I'll be wearing it most days until the
really cold  weather sets in when I'll need something a lot warmer.

Walking  back to a more familiar section of the campus, I light a cigarette
 wondering if I should have bought a baseball cap while I was in the book
store.  Beth still has mine and I still want it back even though her wearing
the hat has  somewhat ruined the uniqueness of it for me. Like I said, I'm
going to get  it back anyway, so if I had a new one to give her it might make
for an easier  transition. The question is: should I go back to the book
store and buy a  baseball cap? Then I hear someone behind me shout, "Yo, dude,
wait  up." There's no one especially near me so I turn around and see one
of Robby's teammates jogging towards me. It's the guy we talked with in the
Quad the other day. The tall black, cutely-good-looking senior. Damn, what
the  fuck's his name? Was it doctor? Some profession, but what's the
difference  since he obviously can't remember my name either. He comes up and pats
my back, asking, "You're Rob's boyfriend, right?" Holy shit, what do I say
to  that? Some guys on the team know Robby's gay, although he never made a
formal announcement about it. I bump fists with this guy and, almost without
 even thinking about it, mumble, "Yeah, Rob's my boyfriend. Um, Rob and I
talked  with you yesterdays in the Quad, right?" He nods, "Yeah, that was me.

Where  ya coming from?" I go, "Why? What difference does it make?" He grins
and, damn,  he's awfully cute for a tall guy. He says, "No reason, it was
just something to  say," then he chuckles nervously.

This  is awkward, us just standing here, so I tell him, "The book store.

That's where  I'm coming from. I needed a hoodie. The weather's getting
chilly." He nods  his head again, "Nice hoodie." I shrug and do a fake cough, then
take a drag off  my cigarette as he asks, "You walking back to your dorm?"

I go, "Um, no, I don't  have a dorm. Rob and I rented an apartment at Royal
Crest. You know, across the  street, down that way." He nods and asks, "Mind
if I walk with you?" I go, "Why  would I mind. Um, where you going?" We
start walking and he says, "Oh, nowhere  in particular." He's wearing the team
baseball  cap. His hair is longish and bushy all around his head below the
cap. Huh, funny that when Robby introduced me to this guy I was wondering if
I'd  ever get a chance to cut his hair, and here he is. I've only cut an
African  American's hair once before, and he was half Caucasian. It was little
Sly  Workman's hair. He's the little brother of Sammy who was on Ryan's
work crew in  Georgia. Anyway, Sly's hair was amazingly soft and fine and I'd
like  another go at cutting hair like that. Sam confided in me that little
Sly has a  black daddy and the same white mom as Sam's. I wonder if his hair
is  any different than this guy's hair. It looks the same, but it'd be
creepy of me to come out and ask, 'Ya want a free haircut?' I mean, maybe he
doesn't feel he even needs a haircut. Instead I say, "I'm sorry, but I've
forgotten your name," and then I think of it, and say it along with  him,
"Lawyer!" and he adds his last name, "Ross." We both kind of snort out a  laugh
because we said his name together, then I go, "I'm Dylan Newman," and he
goes, "Oh, I remember your name." I say, "Liar," and he laughs, then says, "You
caught me, I'm bad with names, but I remember you." The way he  said 'you'
gives me a little chill and I look over at him. He grins  raising his
eyebrows like he did when he looked me in the eyes at the Quad  the other day. We
maintain eye contact longer then we should, then I  look away doing another
fake cough, coughing into my fist this time.  He asks, "Are you coming down
with a cold or are you smoking too many  cigarettes?" I shrug and we begin
walking again as I change the  subject, asking, "How do you think the team is
gonna do this year?" He  mumbles, "It's hard to say until we all get
together for practice with the  coaches."

We've  walked almost to the parking lot where the pickup is parked and I
give a  thought to making the excuse of driving back to the apartment. I don't
though  because he's the one who stopped me and I'm curious if he had a
reason for doing  that, or if he just wanted someone to walk with. I point at
Robby's pickup,  "That's Rob's and my transportation, that pickup right
there." He goes, "Yeah?  Well I can see Rob driving a pickup. He's a down to
earth kind of guy."  Leaning against the bumper, I'm like, "Ya know, Lawyer, I
don't recall seeing  you playing on the team last year; your junior year,
right?" he nods, "Yeah, I  hurt myself at the last practice before the first
game of the season and  was out all season with a high angle sprain." Grinning
I go, "What a  pussy! You were out all year with a sprained ankle?" He
grins back at me,  "You don't know much about high ankle sprains, do ya?" I
shrug, "No, I guess I  don't," and he points to a spot above his ankle, saying,
"It's damage  above the ankle actually. Damage to ligaments that connect the
tibia  to the fibula and usually takes six  or seven weeks to heal. We
started last year's 35 game schedule in early  March with games south of the
Mason/Dixon line, due to the weather in New  England, and ended our schedule
late in April. That's basically a seven week  college baseball season which
coincided with my high ankle sprain's healing  process." I mutter, No shit?'
Flicking  my cigarette butt towards the gutter, except it somehow flies
over my  shoulder and off the outside driver's rearview mirror of the pickup.

Ignoring that, I ask, "Were you still on the team with the ankle sprain?"

He frowns, watching the cigarette butt's path, then goes, "Yeah, of course. I
 went to practice every day for  treatment, and I traveled with the team
for away games because  I was basically coaching my freshman replacement.

Mentoring him." I go,  "Oh, uh  huh," and he shrugs, adding, "The problem though
was when someone's not on  the active roster, the other guys on the team
tend to forget about  you. Not Rob though, he asked how I was doing all the
time and he'd sit at my  locker talking with me. I can't tell you how much I
appreciated that, and even  though he's a year behind me I look up to him as
a team leader. He's one of the  good guys, that boyfriend of yours." I go,
"Yeah, I know. I love him." Lawyer  sort of looks away without commenting on
that, so I ask, "How'd you know he was  gay?" He looks back at me, "The
equipment manager told me." I go, "Ryan  Wilcocks?" He nods, "Yeah, that's the
dude's name, although I couldn't have come  up with it on my own. Little guy
who spent too much time in the shower area. Heh  heh..." I feel protective of
Ryan, saying, "Well, he had to pick up the  towels, didn't he?" Lawyer
shrugs, saying, "I guess, anyway that's how I knew  Rob was gay, and then when I
saw you with him in the Quad, um, well  you had this dreamy look in your
eyes whenever you looked at him, ha ha, no  offense, so I added one plus one,
ya know?"

I'm  not sure I like this guy, so I ask, "You look up to Rob even though
you're a tad  homophobic, huh?" He laughs and puts his arm across my shoulders
to jostle me,  saying, "Don't get your panties in a knot, Dylan, I'm gay
too." I'm like,  "No shit?" and he's like, "Yeah, that's one of the things Rob
and I talked  about. I confided in him because he was the only teammate who
treated me  like an equal even though I wasn't an active player." I say,
"That,  plus you knew he was gay." He chuckles, "Well yeah, that had something
 to do with me having the balls to tell him about my gayness." I go, "Huh!
So the  team knows you're gay and they don't care; is that it?" He chuckles,
"Um, not  exactly. Only Rob, and now you, know I'm gay. You're the only two
 students at Merrimack who know as far as that goes. I'm not as brave about
it as  you two." Huh, interesting. Wanting to talk to him some more, I ask,
"Do  you feel like a cup of coffee or something at the Quad? I'm just
waiting for a  text from Rob that he's done throwing the ball around." He nods,
"Yeah, I could  go for a beverage," and we start walking towards the Quad as
I ask, "How come  you're not joining the informal practice that's taking
place right now?" and he  goes, "I'm afraid of some freak accident happening to
me again. I'll go  full tilt when the coaches start running mandatory fall
practices on  Monday."

Approaching  the Quad, Lawyer says, "Um, you're trustworthy, right, Dylan?
My secret is safe  with you." I nod, "I might be the best secret-keeper
you'll ever meet. Your  secret is totally safe with me." He goes, "I figured
that's the case since  you're Rob's boyfriend and he kept my secret. Um, he
never said anything  about me to you?" I go, "Don't take this the wrong way,
Lawyer, but until I met you in the Quad the other day I didn't even know  you
existed. Robby never said a word about you to me." Right inside the  Quad's
front door Lawyer stops to talk to two guys who are on  their way out. I
keep going to avoid introductions, plus neither of the guys was  the least bit
attractive. When I'm in line for coffee, Lawyer walks over asking,  "Would
you get me a coffee with cream and sugar?" I nod and he hands me two
dollars then sits at an empty table for two. There are tables for two,  four, and
six, then long communal tables that can seat fourteen.  Officially the Quad
is the central outdoor area of the college, but we  refer to the
multi-purpose building that's here as the 'Quad'. I suppose  it's different for each
university, but this building's second floor is a  wide open space with areas
for cold lunches and snack foods, TV  viewing, a partitioned-off quiet room
for studying, plus a game  room with a couple of pool tables and computer
games one can waste money  playing. There are always  a lot of students in
here.

When  I set Lawyer's paper cup of coffee in front of him I return his two
dollars,  saying, "My treat." He goes, "Thanks, Dude. My turn next time." I
have a piece  of apple pie with my coffee and it makes me think of the
delicious desserts Mrs.  Wilcox used to buy at that gourmet bakery in downtown
Marietta. There are  some things about Georgia I still miss, and those desserts
plus Ryan's  mother's cooking are two of them. As I'm putting a forkful of
pie in my mouth,  Lawyer says, "That looks good," so I offer, "Ya want
some?" He grins nodding his  head and I fork off a piece of pie and pass him the
fork. He eats the pie  dragging his lips along the tines of the fork.

Watching him do that makes my  dick move in my pants. Sexy pink lips on Lawyer. He
swallows  and grins, murmuring, "Yum," as he passes the fork back to me.

When he  grins his white teeth glisten in his pink mouth and it all contrasts
sexily with his milk chocolate-colored skin. I stare at him for a second
too long again, and again he gives me his eyebrow raised  questioning
expression. It makes me blush and look down. He goes,  "You ever have a black
boyfriend, Dylan?" I shake my head and do a fake  cough, then mumble, "Never had
the pleasure." Nodding his head, he grins at me  again as I gulp down a
piece of pie. Swallowing, I ask, "Want another  taste?" He goes, "Sure," and I
pass him another forkful of pie, but  this time I don't watch him eat it.

Damn! I just might spring a  boner.

We  finish the pie by passing the fork back and forth, then I ask, "Do you
have a  boyfriend, um, currently?" and he says, "Nope. Not currently or
ever. I'm a  virgin in that regard, although not in the other." I'm like, "Oh,
you've had sex  with a girl then?" He says, "With two girls; one in my
freshman year and one  sophomore year. We went out for like four months before
breaking up. I was  on a mission trying to prove to myself I'm not gay." I ask,
"Did it work?"  and he laughs, "Nope!" I go, "Well, if you insist on being
in the closet your  chances of connecting with another available gay guy are
kinda limited." He  says, "I know, but like I said, I'm not confident
enough to come 'out'. Rob was  the first guy I've ever been able to work up the
nerve to 'out' myself to,  and now you're the second." I grin, "Progress,
Lawyer, but you must know by now  that hardly anybody would care that you're
gay." Ignoring that bit of  logic, he asks, "Have you ever, um, been with a
virgin. Sexually I mean, and I'm  not coming on to you, I'm just curious."

Then, before I can come up with an  appropriate answer, and maybe even be
truthful about it, telling him, at  least a half dozen times or so, he goes, "I
mean, you're so fucking  good looking I assume you've had any number of
opportunities to be with a  virgin boy in high school." I'm like, "Yes, I've been
humbled and honored to be  asked to do it with a virgin or two." He looks
serious, saying, "That's so,  um, nice of you. The way you put that was
really nice."

Feeling  awkward I shrug, and mumble, "Thanks.. it was, I don't know, a
privilege...  or something like that." We're kind of at a stalemate as to where
to  take the conversation from here. I'd love to do it with him obviously,
but  Lawyer knows that Rob and I are boyfriends and he might think less of
me, and  maybe somehow less of Robby too if I suggested doing something with
him.  After a minute, that seemed much longer, Lawyer goes, "Well, shall we
get  another piece of pie?" I chuckle, "Your turn to buy." He gets up and
pats my  shoulder, saying, "I really like you, Dylan. Rob's lucky." I do a
fake cough and  he goes, "I know they're fake, by the way. Your coughs I mean,"
and we both  snort out a laugh with me saying, "Bullshit! They're not
fake." He goes, "Shall  we try cherry pie this time?" I go, "Yeah, let's be
daring." As he walks over to get in line I'm like... holy shit, I'm sweating and
my dick's feeling funny.


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

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

Please consider a tax deductible donation of any size to
nonprofit Nifty to help with the expense of maintaining this ginormous
free story site. Thank you very much.

http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html