Date: Sat, 6 Jan 2018 17:01:01 -0500
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR SUMMER     Chapter 18

DYLAN'S SUMMER AFTER HIS COLLEGE JUNIOR YEAR

Chapter  18

by  Donny Mumford


Taking a cold bottle of beer with me I step outside the front door of
Dodger's apartment on a sunny Saturday in early June. As the door closes
behind me my senses are assaulted by a cacophony of loud construction noise
both from machines, carpenters hammering, and workers shouting to be heard
over the din. I can't make out what it is they're yelling about although I
recognize a few F-bombs and then laughter. Wandering down the sidewalk in
front of the apartment building smoking my cigarette I see bustling
activity everywhere. Huh, I can almost hear the construction workers'
over-time pay adding-up, cha-ching! Good for them.

There's a billboard near the entrance to this recently paved road, Sterns
Hill Road, and on the billboard, is an artist's rendition of what this huge
development of homes, condos, and apartment buildings will look like when
completed in two years. At this point though it's hard for me to envision
everything I see around me being transformed into that billboard picture.
It's ironic that Dickers & Son Inc. are heavily invested in a similar
development more than an hour's drive away, in Westborough, Massachusetts.
I guess they got outbid for this project that's basically in their
backyard.

Dodger's two-floor apartment is very cool and I'm happy for him even though
he'll be living in the middle of this construction zone for quite some
time. It's loud out here but fortunately for Dodger inside his apartment
you're barely aware of the noise. The sidewalk I'm on ends twenty-feet past
the apartment building where I see stakes driven in the ground indicating
there will be a road going to the right when they get around to paving
it. Holy shit, the biggest bulldozer I've ever seen just rumbling past me
stirring up a cloud of dirty dust. I turn by back to it until it's past me
and then flick my cigarette butt in the direction of the bulldozer and then
walk back and go inside the apartment where it's clean and relatively
quiet.

Closing the door behind me I hear Dodger and Vinnie talking upstairs so I
assume they've finished showering. Putting the empty beer bottle on the
kitchen bar I grin to myself thinking back to my stranger-than-fiction
sloppy orgasm during our three-way sex act a little while ago. The one
called a train fuck... ha ha. Just imagine doing that with five-or-six
guys. The reason for my sloppy orgasm was horniness that goofed-up my brain
and that first climax didn't resemble a normal one. It basically was just
an unloading of cum that had accumulated over three-and-a-half-days, and
unfortunately without most of the intense sensations associated with
climax. It was more than anything a feeling of relief. My second climax
though, thanks to Dodger, was much closer to a normal one and therefore
much appreciated.

Dodger calls from the top of the stairs, "The bathroom is all yours,
Dylan." I go upstairs where he's laying out new clothes on his bed. The now
empty plastic shopping bags are scattered here and there. He's shirtless
and the bandage is off his tattoo revealing a small tattoo simply spelling
out 'JACKPOT' with the casino's logo under it. He's taking the labels off
his new clothes while Vinnie's watching, wearing only boxer shorts on his
stocky body. There's a price-tag sticker he missed on one leg so I point it
out to him and he pulls it off, mumbling, "Fucking tight underwear.
Dodger's waist is 30 and I take a 32." I mutter, "Huh, I have a 30-inch
waist too."  Dodger mutters, "We're almost twins." He's wearing brand new
tan cargo shorts with a few wrinkles from being under a pile of the same
shorts in the store. I say, "I run new clothes through the washing machine
before wearing them." Dodger smiles, "Well ain't you the clever
clothes-horse though. Actually, I usually do the same thing myself, but I
need something to wear today, so..." I shrug, "Just saying..."

He pulls some pins out of a shirt and then points to sweatpants and a
sweatshirt on the floor, "They're the clothes I borrowed from you earlier
this week. I'll throw them in the wash with the new clothes if it's okay
with you."  I shrug, "Sure, thanks." Vinnie mumbles, "Can you believe my
Mom still insists on buying clothes for me even though I'm twenty friggin'
years old." Dodger and I both glance at Vinnie for a second and then Dodger
says to me, "Whaddaya thing of my new duds?" Vinnie's still mumbling, "She
buys me some pretty good stuff though, so I don't know why I'm
complaining."  I go, "Yeah, Dodger, you've got some cool shit here. I'd
have chosen a lot of the same things for myself." He goes, "Damn though,
it's a pain in the ass getting all these labels and pins off everything."
Nodding my head, "Yeah, I know what you mean. Well, I'll take a quick
shower now and then I'll need to borrow some of those clothes. How do you
like that?"  He goes, "Be my guest, but you'll need to wear them with
wrinkle-creases just like my shorts." I go, "Not necessarily."

Looking through the new clothes on the bed I pick up Nike straight-leg
basketball shorts, and a T-shirt, saying, "These basketball shorts are
wrinkle-proof." Dodger smirks, "You're so clever, Dylan," and Vinnie asks,
"Hey, can either of you two hear the words coming out of my mouth?" Dodger
turns, "Did you say something, Vinnie?" and he gives him a big bear-hug as
I walk past them and then down the short hall to the steamed-up bathroom.
Before going in I get the last towel from the linen closet, hoping lint
doesn't stick all over me when I dry myself. Brand new towels definitely
should to be washed before being used.

Awesome shower with great water pressure but I only stay in for a quick
wash and then while drying myself I'm grinning at the shower curtain. It's
the one Vinnie bought Dodger as a house warming gift. It has baby ducks all
over it. Walking out of the steamy bathroom into the air-conditioned hall I
put on the borrowed underwear and the basketball shorts as Dodger heads for
the stairs with a big armful of clothes, saying, "When you're dressed we'll
meet downstairs, Dylan." Nodding his head at Vinnie, he adds, "We're gonna
get the washing machine doing it's thing." Vinnie has clothes in his arms
too, so I'm like, "Jesus, you bought all those clothes yesterday?" Dodger
goes, "Nah, Vinnie's carrying the wrinkled clothes I sent home via UPS from
Fort Sam Houston. I'm washing everything whether they need it or not. Um,
except my Army duds."

As they go downstairs I pull the borrowed T-shirt over my head and glance
around the bedroom. Huh, I don't see the clothes I took off before my
shower. Guess they're also in the wash load. Dodger left me a pair of sweat
socks which I put on and then my sneakers. And oh man, this is the best
I've felt since Wednesday morning!

With the washing machine in Dodger's basement loaded and running, I drive
the three of us to the Framingham Mall. Inside the mall, I tag along for
Dodger's latest buying spree, everything paid for with his debit card from
Bank of America. He has somewhere in the vicinity of $300,000.00 in that
bank. Only he, me, and his friend, Josh, know about that. After buying
things for an hour we're all carrying overloaded shopping bags filled with
kitchen gadgets, pots and pans, cutlery, a dinner service for four and
other assorted items for the kitchen. He's not done shopping yet, but now
we need to haul all this stuff and unload it in the pickup because it's
getting too heavy to carry around with us. I'm carrying plastic bags
containing a Keurig machine, a toaster, and a juicer. All the new purchases
fit in the smallish back seat of the pickup and then we go back to the mall
to do more shopping.

Inside the mall again I decide enough-is-enough. I'm bored-stiff with
shopping, so I mumble, "Guys, this has been more fun than a clown on fire,
but I'm gonna take a break. I'll meet you in the Food Court when you're
done." Vinnie says, "Thanks for your help, Dylan. We've got the bulk of it
done, don't we, Dodger?" Dodger puts his arm across Vinnie's shoulders,
saying, "I sure as shit hope so, Vinnie, but I keep thinking of other
things I need," and then he looks at me, saying, "Okay, we'll meet you in
the Food Court, Dylan, and Vinnie's right, thanks for your help. Without
the pickup, we couldn't have done one-tenth of what we've done this
afternoon. You're so cool too!" Yeah, ain't that the truth...

They go off to a Bed & Bath as I get on the escalator to the second floor
where the Food Court is located. It's a typical food court with booths for
all the normal suspects: D'Angelo, McDonalds, Sbarro, Orange Julius, a
Chinese food booth, and so on. Needing something in my stomach I buy a
slice of Sbarro cheese pizza and a Coke and then find a table that isn't
near anyone. As I finish off the last bite of pizza crust someone behind me
rubs my head. I look around, patting my hair, and see Sonny McCarty. I go,
"Hey, Charles," and he says, "Oh sweet! You remembered my given name!" He
doesn't realize how rare that is for me. I only recently found out that his
actual birth-certificate name is, 'Charles', although he's been called
Sonny his entire life. Why that's so, I don't know.

His motorbike friend is with him. The same one who came with Sonny for
haircuts. Sonny pats his friends shoulder saying to me, "You remember my
best bud, Thomas Bright, right Dylan?" I nod, saying, "Sure, how ya doing,
Thomas?" I remembered him, but not his name. He nods back, muttering,
"Good, I'm good."  He absolutely insists on being called 'Thomas' if I
remember correctly. Not that that's a big deal especially as I'm noticing
more and more guys at college insist on being called by their formal first
names. Of course, Chubby would be calling this kid 'Tommy' whether Thomas
liked it of not 'cause that's just how Chubby rolls. It is a bit pompous of
Thomas to make an issue out of it.

Sonny goes, "Stay put Dylan, we're gonna grab Big Macs and milk
shakes. We'll be right back." Ha ha, they both had a big mop of hair on
their heads when they came for haircuts. Sonny told me they shaved each
other's head nine-months ago and haven't been to the barber since. Well not
until they came to me. I just did 'regular' haircuts for Sonny's orange/red
hair and Thomas' light brown hair and it was a total blast cutting all that
long hair off their heads. That guy, Thomas, was a bit of a wise-ass at
first but he came around when he realized I wasn't putting up with his
grumpy-ass routine. He's sexually 'straight' but knows Sonny's gay and
doesn't care. He was also aware that Sonny and I had sex in the half-bath
and he couldn't have cared less about that either, so he's okay.

They return with their hamburgers and milk shakes sitting in chairs across
the table from me. Sonny has that clear pale-creamy complexion I admire; a
complexion you see on a lot of redheads. He's a cute kid with a hot-shit
personality. I've liked him almost from the first time we met. That was a
couple of years ago when he had to sit on my lap during a ride to one of
Ray's summer league basketball games. Sonny asks, "You here alone, Dylan?"
Shaking my head, I go, "No, a couple of friends are shopping for
stuff. They'll be meeting me here any minute now. What are you guys doing
here?" Thomas, who is another one of those guys who chews with his mouth
open, doesn't have a lot to say today, so Sonny nods his head at Thomas,
saying, "We came over so he could buy an Xbox game but the one he wanted
was sold out already." I don't ask which game he's referring to because I'm
not an avid game player. I do it only occasionally but I'm not that 'up' on
the latest games. There are lots of guys, of course, who waste
hour-after-hour playing those games every day.

Eating correctly with his mouth closed, Sonny swallows and says, "So,
Dylan, I heard about you apologizing to Ray and asking him to please, um,"
and he glances at Thomas before adding, "To, um, get together and recreate
past experiences, if you get my drift." I go, "That's what Ray told you,
huh? Well it wasn't quite like that but you and Ray can think what you
want, I don't give a shit." He says, "No reason to get bent out of shape
about it, Dylan. Ray actually spoke very highly of you. Hell, I hope you
two get back together for selfish reasons of my own. I'd get to see more of
you if you were Ray's boyfriend again." My response to that is sucking on
the straw of my empty fountain Coke getting only watery ice-dregs which
makes that annoying sound of sucking on ice at the bottom of the cup
through a straw. Sonny's staring at me until I go, "What?" and he goes,
"That noise sucks! Anyway, are you thinking of getting back together with
Ray? You apologized so he might take you back." I'd very much like to
scream at the stupidity of that remark! Instead I can't help snorting out a
laugh because Sonny's so naively sincere. It's beyond ludicrous that I'd be
Ray's boyfriend again. I go, "No, Sonny, I'm not thinking about doing
that."

Over Tomas' head I see Dodger and Vinnie coming into the food court looking
for me. This is a very large area of maybe a hundred tables with many of
them occupied so I raise my arm and wave. Vinnie bumps Dodger's arm and
points at me. Lugging their shopping bags, they come over and before I can
introduce them to Sonny and Thomas, those two guys turn their heads to see
who I waved at. Sonny goes, "Holy shit, look who it is!" Dodger and Vinnie
are smiling and when they get to our table they do quick one-arm hugs with
Sonny and Thomas as Dodger's saying, "Thomas, whassup, dude?" and Vinnie's
muttering, "Hi, Sonny." Oh shit, of course... they were all in the same
year at Framingham High.

Dodger says, "Vinnie, pull that fucking table over here," as he's dragging
a chair over from another table. For the next ten minutes the four of them
reminisce about shit they did when in the same classes. Then Dodger asks
me, "How do you know these two derelicts, Dylan?" I tell him I met them
through a guy, Ray Reeves. Dodger goes, "Oh, that asshole! I had a run-in
with him once. He tried bullying me 'cause I was an underclassman but he
found out how unwise it is pulling that shit on me." Sonny mutters, "Ray's
not an asshole," and Thomas says, "Yes, he is." Dodger ignores that and
points to Thomas, telling me, "Thomas here was on the swim team with me."
Thomas hasn't said much, but now he mumbles, "Dodger's a fucking fish in a
swimming pool."

They talk for a bit as I wonder if Sonny knows Dodger and Vinnie are gay,
and vice-versa. The four of them make promises to get together, promises
they'll never keep, and then after some fists bumps we split up. Thomas and
Sonny walk back into the mall as the three of us head for the escalator and
then the closest exit for where we parked the pickup. After dumping the
latest shopping bags on top of the other stuff in the back seat, I drive us
back to Dodger's apartment where we carry everything inside and then spend
a half hour trying to get kitchen gadgets, like a can-opener, out of the
almost impenetrable heavy plastic wrapping. It takes some cursing and
dangerous handling of knives but we finally separate everything from its
plastic wrapping and then fill up the dishwasher to give everything a wash
before using any of it.

Done with that we all get a beer and go outside for a smoke. Vinnie only
smokes when he's with Dodger. As basically a non-smoker he never buys his
own and why would he? Sitting on the small front stoop we watch the
construction activity winding-down for the day as it's approaching five
o'clock. I ask, "Why do ya think they work all these hours on a Saturday?"
Dodger says, "Well, the building I'm in was supposed to be completed a
month ago. That late snow-storm prevented them working until almost
April. They're way behind schedule." I ask, "Is your building fully
rented?" He nods, "Yep, and the unfinished building behind mine is rented
too according to the rental agent who claims I'm lucky I got to him when I
did." Vinnie's being his usual quiet self until he says, "Um, I gotta get
home for dinner. Do ya think you could give me a ride, Dylan." I chuckles,
"Of course I will, Vinnie! Jesus!" We walk to the pickup as Dodger says,
"I'll ride along with you guys."

Vinnie's in the shotgun seat with Dodger in the middle continuing to be
totally ecstatic about everything he bought today. He talks about his new
stuff during the entire ride. When the pickup is idling at Vinnie's curb he
reaches over to bump fists with me, "Thanks again for the ride." I go,
"Sure, no problem, Vinnie." Dodger gives him a hug and Vinnie hops out and
gives us a smile along with a middle finger salute. We chuckle at that and,
as I drive away, Dodger asks, "So, you'll spend my first night in the
apartment with me?" I say, "Sure, I'm honored, but won't Vinnie be
offended?" He says, "Nah, he's staying with me tomorrow night. Tonight he's
gone to the Sox game with his Dad." I ask, "Well, are you gonna cook your
first dinner in the apartment tonight?" He shakes his head, "Nope, you and
me are going to Ken's again tonight, which reminds me, would you mind
calling for reservations? It's Saturday night so we probably need them." I
go, "What the fuck, Dodger? I'm driving!" He laughs, "Oh yeah. I was
daydreaming about my apartment again. Dude, I love it!"

He gets his cellphone out and makes dinner reservations for eight o'clock
and as I pull up to the partially dirt-covered parking lot in front of his
apartment building, he goes, "How 'bout coming in for a quickie." I give
him a startled 'look' and he goes, "C'mon, when I get excited like I am
about the apartment I get horny." I go, "Alright, sure. A quickie is
something I'm usually up for." Damn right I am, especially after this
week. And that half-ass three-way didn't nearly make up for the long
abstinence period I've endured. As we walk up to his apartment, he mumbles,
"Um, if you don't mind I'm gonna do it like we did it at your place." I
shrug, "I don't especially mind, Dodger, but what's the big attraction to
fucking that way?" He shrugs, "I like it, that's all. I mean as long as
you're willing." I'm like, "No problem, but afterwards would you come with
me to visit your brother?" He shrugs, "Of course, but we probably should
change clothes first since we're eating out later."

Inside the apartment, Dodger asks, "You want a beer?" I mumble, "Nah, I'll
get a drink before dinner and, seriously, let's split the bill for
tonight's dinner." He goes, "No, I'm treating you as my thank-you for all
the help you've given me this week. Plus, what the fuck, dude, I'm flush
with cash." I feel funny about him buying me dinner again but making a
federal case out of it would be pointless when dealing with Dodger about
anything. We go down to the basement and transfer the washed clothes to the
dryer and then put the rest of his clothes in the washing machine and get
both machines running.

On the way up two flights of stairs to his bedroom, I say, "I'll text Rob
before we go over there. We don't want to walk in on your family in the
middle of dinner." As Dodger rips the plastic wrapping off a set of Queen
Size sheets, I text Rob and he text back that they'll be done dinner by
six-thirty at the latest. He's really surprise Dodger's coming too, but
glad he is. I tell Dodger and he goes, "Good, we'll go over before
seven. Let's make up the bed now."

We do that with me biting my tongue so I don't mention that new sheets
should definitely be run through the wash before using them. We get pillow
cases on the two pillows and then Dodger breaks out a dark blue comforter
which he folds at the bottom of the bed and then pats my back, muttering,
"Let's get undressed now." That takes fifteen-seconds and then he says, "Go
ahead, Dylan, you know what to do." I nod and drop to my knees to suck a
boner on my dominant 'top's' pecker. Goddamn, I love this shit! And, 'two'
is the preferred number for having sex if you ask me. More than two is okay
but I prefer one-on-one with me on the bottom.

Dodger runs his fingers through my hair as I slurp on his dick, my hands
resting lightly on his firm ass cheeks. I'm a little bummed that Dodger's
scent is mostly hidden by the smell of bath gel from the recent shower he
had with Vinnie. Speaking of Vinnie, I'm liking the way Dodger shows his
affection for him and the way Vinnie absorbs it thoroughly. That's nice.

When his cock is firm enough I take the head in my throat and work my
throat muscles making Dodger groan and shuffle his feet. His hands are now
just resting on my head as he concentrates on the sensations coming off his
sensitive hard penis. It's a very hard cock by now and when I move off it a
bit the head comes plopping out of my throat to rest on my warm, saliva
saturated tongue. The slurping mouth-sounds on the hard flesh of his cock
makes me grin around that hard fat penis even as my own cock gets very hard
and begins throbbing. When pre-cum drools out of his cock Dodger steps back
and takes a gasping deep breath and then says, "Awesome, Dylan, really
awesome! Go ahead now, get up on the bed."

He pulls down the sheet as I get on the bed, on all fours with my face on
the brand-new pillow, my forearms next to it with my ass pushed up. Dodger
spanks my ass hard, "SMACK!SMACK! SMACK!" and when he gets on the bed
behind me I hear his noisy-aroused-breathing. A second later the head of
his pre-cum-wet cock is poking my asshole. I shiver with anticipation and
then the head forces it's way inside my rectum followed immediately by two
hard thrusts as a blizzard of pain covers my brain. I groan into the pillow
and then hold my breath. Another grunt from Dodger as he does a final hump
and now he's tightly against my buttocks leaning over to rub my back and
sides with both hands. The pain hovers around at maximum level for a few
seconds and then begins backing off as my miracle rectum adjusts to what's
becoming a familiar entry.

Maybe Dodger thinks repeating this way of fucking is establishing in my
conscious and subconscious minds he'll always be dominant during any sex we
have, meaning I'll automatically suck his dick and then get on the bed like
this for a spanking and then wait for him to do the fucking. I'm thinking
he's laying the ground work for what he hopes will become a very long-term
relationship and, if it weren't for his brother I'd be a willing
participant contentedly embracing his plan. Rob is very much in the picture
however so pretty soon I'll need to set the record straight with Dodger,
but for the short term this is an awesome mild form of sub/dom sex that I
like a lot!

Dodger murmurs, "Everything feeling better now, Dylan?" I nod, "Uh huh,
getting better by the second. Feeling pretty fuckin' good actually." He
smacks the side of my ass and begins what he calls a monkey-fuck. It's
steady, fast, hard thrusting, "SLAPSLAPSLAP," as I'm going, "Ah! Ah! Ah!"
with every delicious hard thrust of his boner up my ass, "Ah, ah, ah! aah!"
for two, then three, then four-minutes of exquisite sexual pleasure and
then, "Oooh! Eeeiiiiii!" cum pumps out of my rock-hard throbbing cock, a
nice streaking shot of cum followed by two smaller versions as Dodger's
humping against my buttocks with his cum stream hitting off the walls of my
bowels, both of us gasping for air. Feeling temporarily weak my ass drops
and Dodger pulls his slimy cock out and smacks my ass again, "SMACK!". He's
sitting back on his ankles breathing hard and then chuckling, he goes,
"Wow, that was really good! Oh man, I love doing that with you!"

I'm quietly moaning, feeling contended. Dodger smacks my ass again and I
mean hard, saying, "Get your ass back up where it belongs." He hesitates
and adds, "Please." I do that feeling a submissiveness skitter past my
brain and then I feel Dodger's still hard cock slide tightly back up my ass
and, gripping my hips, it's a wild, "Slapslapslap," ride with me moaning
and beginning to feel seriously dominated and it's sooooo good it's
creating a sweet little submissive trance that goes along for the ride. I'm
still going, "Ah, ah, ah, ah," with each hard thrust rocking my whole body
to and fro.

This awesomeness goes on for quite a while before I feel another climax
beginning to build and I want it so badly I'm humping back into his
thrusting until, "Eeeiiii!" and a short streak of cum shoots out with
vibrations sizzling from back to front, and then front to back as I quiver
with sexual pleasure. Then everything begins fading and I realize Dodger's
lying on the bed next to me breathing deeply again. I didn't even notice
when he pulled out. It feels like he's still fucking my ass back there as
my rectum continues throbbing and then it settles down and with a last
quiet moan I stretch my legs back to lie flat on the bed with my heart
pounding and my shoulders doing another little shudder. My cum, that I'm
lying on, starts cooling off and feeling sticky. We both lie here for maybe
five minutes and then with a big exhale Dodger sits up, pats my ass, and
says, "Let's clean up and get dressed for our visit with my brother and
then dinner at Ken's."

Nodding my head and grinning at him, I'm like, "Yes, boss," and he grins
back at me, murmuring, "This is awesome, Dylan. You good?" Nodding my head
I mumble, "Well yeah, that felt great, Dodger! I'm good." I'm also back to
normal orgasms and, oh gawd, the vibrating around my groin and the sizzling
coming off my prostate was fabulous! I almost ask for thirds but slide off
the bed onto my feet instead. Wiping my cum off my chest near my
throat. Dodger comes around to where I'm standing to give my shoulders a
hug, saying, "Dude, you've got cum on your chin too." He chuckles as I wipe
it off with the back of my hand while leaning against Dodger a little to
steady myself. Slightly dizzy from the intensity of those two climaxes I
point at the sheet and mumble, "It's on the sheets too." He goes, "It'll
dry. C'mon in the bathroom and I'll clean that drooling cum off your ass."
We go in the bathroom and wash-up and while I'm drying my hands Dodger hugs
me tightly with both arms, murmuring, "Thanks, Dylan. You're so awesome I
can't even put it into words," and he kisses the side of my face. It's a
big smooch followed by another hug and then, "Let's get our clothes on and
have a beer." Gee, that was a slightly tender moment for a couple of
seconds there.

I don't feel like a beer but I have one with Dodger anyway. As we drink it,
he goes, "So, we'll go to your place so you can put on appropriate
clothes." I say, "Yeah, you're dressed okay in shorts but I've got these
flimsy basketball shorts on. I'll change into khakis and an other shirt."
He pats my arm and then rubs it, grinning and asking, "How'd you like our
latest monkey-fuck?" I smirk, "It was okay," and he messes my hair, and
hugs around my head, saying, "Yeah, yeah just okay. Riiiiiight." Gee, I
felt an extra closeness there with Dodger again and I stare at him for a
minute. It's distracting how much he looks like Robby, although obviously
they have very different personalities.

Dodger swallows some beer and says, "You know what we're gonna do tonight?"
I shake my head and he says, "Tie a load on, that's what! A Saturday night
load. After dinner we'll hit a bar close to my place so it's a short drive
to the apartment." I nod my head, "Yeah, okay." Then I grin, muttering,
"Guess what? My ass is sore," and he reaches over to pats it lightly,
saying, "Yeah? It'll be fine after a couple of more fucks before
bedtime. I'll toughen it up for you." My dick buzzes a little as I mutter,
"Ya think?" It's so different being with him compared to being with Robby,
who I love. Dodger's so sure of himself, but considerate too. It's all
seems to come very naturally to him.

He talks about how much fun we'd have in Las Vegas together. "You know,
Dylan, we could have a great time if they're dumb enough to comp me a suite
again, and comp plane tickets too. That's what they said they're gonna
do. Would you come with me?" I go, "Jesus, Dodger, I'm working this summer
and then it's right back to college." He shrugs, "I mean during some
college holiday for three or four days. I'd love to show you around tinsel
town. It's a beast of a city. We could see a show; they'll comp me for that
too." I go, "Yeah sure, during a holiday some time; that sounds cool." Why
say 'no' now when it might not ever happen that the casino does all the
'comping' Dodger's talking about. Then he asks me if I have any suggestions
about a small business he could start with the money he has. I can't think
of one but tell him I'll Google for some ideas.

Done our beers Dodger checks the dryer and yells from the basement, "The
dyer's finished. Help me fold these things." I go down and we fold the
clothes with Dodger grinning at me every two seconds. I go, "What the
fuck's all that grinning about?" He shrugs, "Oh, I'm realizing again just
how much fun it is doing things with you. I thought about us a lot during
my time in the Army. Connor and I think you're our idol." I make a face,
muttering, "Get real! I'm nobody's idol." He ignores that and, holding up a
pair of jeans, he's like, "Oh good! I'll wear these tonight," and he
smooths out a few wrinkles and changes into them, mumbling, "Nice and
warm."

After folding the clothes and putting the second load of washed clothes in
the dryer we get it running and then carry the clean clothes up to his
bedroom. Looking at my watch, I say, "It'll need to be a short visit with
Rob if we expect to make it to Ken's by eight." He says, "We'll be fine,"
and as we drive to my house I remember that I want to feel-out Dodger about
his version of the disconnect between him and his family. Sure, Rob says
they're all okay, but being 'okay' is a far cry from family love. When I
think about it though, it's not unheard of that one or more members of a
family don't get along. Also I'm curious what Dodger's plans were before he
hit that jackpot. He had to have had a plan because nobody goes to Vegas
expecting to win a million-dollar jackpot. Hmmm, I wonder how forthcoming
he'll be, or if he'll be forthcoming at all.

Well, why wait? On the way to my place so I can change clothes we stop at a
traffic light and here goes nothing; "Dodger, I'm curious what you would
have done if you didn't win all that money in Vegas?" He goes, "Oh Jesus!
Yeah, it would have been much different, that's for sure. I did win the
money though so I'd prefer that my original plans never become known. What
I was gonna do would have caused, um, consternation aplenty." I pull out to
the passing lane to pass an old bald-headed man in an ancient Volkswagen
Beatle. I mutter, "That sounds ominous." We drive along and I finally say,
"Well, are you gonna tell me?" Dodger goes, "Look, if I tell you, you gotta
promise to keep it between us?" I go, "Absolutely," and he says, "I'm
trusting you, okay?" I go, "I can keep a secret. I'm already keeping the
other secret of yours." He goes, "Yeah well, okay. Um, I'd saved almost
ten-thousand-dollars during my two-years in the Army. They pay better than
you might think and we, Connor and me, were splitting the cost of a cheap
apartment. Plus we ate on base most of the time so actually I should have
saved a lot more than I did. Connor sure did."


Dodger waits in the pickup for me to run up to the condo and put on
appropriate clothes for going out to dinner and as we're coming up to Rob's
house but I want to hear the rest of Dodger's original plans that were made
redundant when he hit the jackpot so I drive around the block as Dodger
says, "Bottom-line, ten-thousand wouldn't set me up at all, so the plan was
Josh Price and I were going to share an apartment, but not here
though. From Vegas we were going to California where his family lives. He's
from a rich family, or fairly rich. His father owns a big-ass construction
company and he had jobs for both of us working construction and making
really good money too. That's what I thought I was going to do even though
it would have alienated my family even more. And it would have taken me a
couple of years living cheap before I had enough money saved to venture
back home... on my own terms."

That's shocking! I go, "Jesus, and no one at home knew you were moving to
California?" He shrugs, "Nope, but obviously I was going to have to tell
them eventually. I kept putting-off telling them though, and pushing back
the time I'd be coming home. Then the miracle jackpot happened. Better to
be lucky than smart, huh?" I ask, "Is this thing with Josh, um, love?" He
chuckles, "Nah, not even close but he's a hot-shit. He was super-pissed and
disappointed our California plans changed. Seems like I'm always
disappointing somebody. Anyway we've been texting and I'm going out there
for a couple of weeks real soon." He chuckles, "He's funnier than a retard
eating hot wings." I frown at him and he chuckles again, saying, "Yeah,
that's the kind of bizarre shit he says all the time." I mutter, "Josh
isn't deeply committed to the politically-correct movement, huh?" Dodger
laughs, "No, he's not even aware of it, that's more the situation. He'd ask
every day when I was going to tell the my 'rents I wasn't coming home and
I'd put it off another day, and he'd say something like, 'Yeah, Dodge, that
news is gonna go over like a pregnant pole vaulter.' He'd say corn-pone
stuff like that all the time. Another one of his favorites is: 'That dude
is nuttier than a port-a-potty at a peanut festival." Dodger laughs, and
mutters, "Yeah, that's Josh."

Parking outside Rob's place I'm not at all sure I ever wanna meet this Josh
character. Guess I don't appreciate hick-humor. Side-stepping that, I say,
"Jeez, look at the time. We can only visit for a half-hour." As we're
walking up the driveway to the back door, I'm asking, "Well, even though
you won the money, um, you could have still gone with this Josh guy to
California, so why didn't you?" He says, "For one thing I'd rather not work
construction, but mostly I wanted to live around here because of you." I
look at him and he shrugs, grinning, and saying, "You and me, bud." I
mutter a sarcastic, "Yeah, right," and then, "Do we need to knock on the
door since this is still sort of your house." He grins, "Ya better knock to
be safe." Fuckin' Dodger, ya just never know.

My knock is answered by Mr. Dickers, who says, "Hi, Dylan, nice of you..."
and then he sees Dodger, and goes, "What the hell are you knocking on the
door for, Dodger?" Dodger goes, "I didn't want to presume anything," and
his Dad says "C'mon in, Dylan," and when I walk past him he puts his arm
across Dodger's shoulders and says, "Well, feel free to presume you can
walk into this house without knocking for the rest of your life, Son."
Closing the door behind him, Dodger goes, "Thanks. Um, aren't you supposed
to be at your Westborough office this weekend." Mr. D. says, "Yeah, that
was the plan but some idiot backed a truck into one of the workers and put
him in the hospital. Then another idiot contacted OSHA's workers' rights
web page, and now they've got a guy from OSHA nosing around. I'll go up
there when things get back to normal. Art Sinclair can handle the OSHA
guy." Dodger asks, "Is that trouble for you?" His dad goes, "Not really,
just a nuisance. Um, Rob's in the basement." As we're going downstairs to
the cellar, I ask, "What's OSHA?" Dodger shrugs, "No idea. I was just
making conversation."

Rob's bouncing a ping pong ball on a paddle looking bored. He sees us and
smiles, "Hi guys!" We both do a quick hug with him. When the brothers hug
this time they kiss each other's cheek. Years ago they used to do
quick-as-a-wink kisses on the lips, but kissing cheeks is almost as good
and it's an encouraging step in the right direction. Rob goes, "I'm about
to go out of my fucking mind hanging around the house these last eight
days." I'm like, "Um, by Monday it'll be ten days since the operation, so
what are the chances you'll be able to go back to work then?" He goes, "I
was talking about that with Dad ten minutes ago. If you'll drive me, Dylan,
and Monday is as good a day as any to see how I do at work." I go, "Sure,
I'll drive you. So, um, can I use the pickup all week? Ya know, so Chubby
can use the Jeep." He nods, "Done deal, babe."

Dodger asks, "What the hell are you doing down here anyway, Rob?" He
shrugs, "Different scenery, that's the only reason." Dodger grins, "You
wouldn't be gawking at your trophy's in the trophy case by any chance." Rob
snorts out a laugh and goes, "Our trophies, bro. I might have glanced at
them once or twice, yeah." The so-called trophy case is two shelves on the
back wall of the basement. Rob's baseball and Dodger's swimming and diving
trophies are proudly displayed, if a bit dusty. All those trophies won by
the Dickers brothers at Delaney Middle School and Framingham High. We all
walk back and pick up one of the inexpensive-looking trophies. I'm holding
one of Dodger's for: 1st place, high-diving champion, Regional's at
Worcester, Ma. and then the year. There are about twenty trophies and the
brothers talk about a few of the ones that mean the most to them. I don't
have a single trophy. No wait! I do have one from little league. It's a
'Performance' trophy that everyone on the team was given. Chub has the same
one. Huh, I wonder what happened to it. It had my name on it as a
'participant', but that was it.

Both brothers all of a sudden appear a little self-conscious reliving their
glory days, so Rob mumbles, "Well that was then and this is now, huh?"
Dodger nods, mumbling, "Fun times, bro." We go upstairs and sit at the
kitchen table drinking Cokes talking about Dodger's apartment. Rob seems
happy for Dodger and has only positive things to say as Dodger and I
describe all the shopping we did today. It's all a tad awkward for me
although I can't exactly describe why. Anyway it's getting close to eight
o'clock so Dodger explains about our dinner reservations. Rob asks me, "Can
you come over tomorrow, Dylan? We'll finalize our plans for Monday." I'm
like, "Well of course I can, boyfriend!" Hint, hint, to Dodger that it's
Rob and I who are boyfriends. And yeah, it would have been better if Rob
asked both of us if we'd come over tomorrow. We all exchange another quick
hug, with me muttering, "Keep getting better, Rob. See you tomorrow." As we
walk out the door Rob calls after us, "Wish I was coming with you guys." I
turn back and smile, muttering, "Me too, Robby." Jeez, I feel funny.

We get in the pickup and I get the engine going and something pops into my
head. It's that the twin fiancés are taking the family out for
brunch at the new Hilton hotel tomorrow morning. I tell Dodger about that
and add, "I need to send a quick text to Chubby. He sometimes forgets stuff
like that." As I'm doing that, I ask, "Ya wanna join us tomorrow, Dodger?"
He goes, "No thanks, I wouldn't be comfortable. You know, because of you
and Rob, and I won't know the male adults. It's better if I pass that up,
but thanks." I mutter, "I kinda know what you mean." I text Chub and get no
response. It's fifty/fifty he even knows where his cellphone is so I type a
reminder into my phone to follow-up with him tomorrow morning, and then say
to Dodger, "So, obviously I'll need to leave tomorrow morning by ten
o'clock or so." He says, "Absolutely, no problem."

Driving on Route 9 towards Ken's Steak House I'm having mixed emotions. I
feel really bad that Rob hasn't been out of the house for eight days and
wish I could have stayed with him a lot longer than I did tonight, but on
the other hand I feel so good as far as being sexually satisfied goes. My
dick is so happy and my rectum too, although it's slightly sore. I'm as
sexually contended as I've been in quite some time. All this sex with
Dodger reminds me of Willie and me years ago and yeah, Ryan too for limited
periods of time. In both cases Willie and Ryan would ruin it by doing some
overly dominant shit and we'd be on the outs for a while. Nobody recently
has come close to the frequency of sex that Dodger's providing and I've
been enjoying the hell out of it, and Dodger hasn't done anything but be
super nice about it too. It's be interesting to know how frequently Dodger
was screwing that Josh guy in Vegas, or during their normal routine in the
Army. And I know it's Dodger who was doing the screwing and not Josh. Some
guys are born 'tops' and I can't see Dodger in the other role now, although
as a youngster it almost certainly was the older brother doing the
'topping' when they got into their incest sex.

While I'm driving and doing my musing Dodgers texting with someone,
muttering, "It's my man, Josh," and then he laughs at a text as his thumbs
fly over the keys of his cellphone. I never even tried using my thumbs;
never got into that but then I don't send more than two or three texts most
days. At Ken's the lady at the front desk apologizes, and she does it like
she's used to doing it, saying it'll be a twenty-minute wait. "And I'm so
sorry, fellows. You could wait in the cocktail lounge if you'd like. I'll
come get you when your table's ready." Like we have a choice.

The bar is full so we sit at a small table and waitress comes right over,
"Do you gentlemen have some ID?" Dodger goes, "We need ID to sit here?" She
has a really nice smile, saying, "No, of course not, my bad. I assumed you
were going to order alcoholic beverages." I say, "We are," and hand her my
ID. Dodger looks twenty-one, much more so than myself and that's so even
though I'm almost two years older than him. The nice waitress ask me, "What
can I get you?" as she hands back my license. I go, "VO Manhattan straight
up, please." Dodger says, "Make that two, please," and he stares at her
with half-a-smile on his face. He appears so confident the waitress
hesitates and then does her nice smile again, saying, "Two VO Manhattans,
straight-up."

When she's at the bar, I ask, "Why'd you do that to her? She was very nice
and you've got awesome fake ID." He goes, "I was just teasing her a
little." I go, "You intimidated her," and Dodger goes, "Well that was not
my intention, Dylan. I was just about to get my wallet out when I
remembered I left it in my shorts when I changed to the jeans I'm wearing
now." I go, "And you're the one who wanted to tie a load on tonight." He
chuckles, "I never forget my wallet. It's being with you that has me doing
something goofy like that. All I can think about is stealing glances at
you." I say, "Dammit, why do you say things like that? It makes me
uncomfortable." He says, "I'm sorry. Hey, after dinner we can stop at the
apartment for my wallet before going to that bar that's down from the fire
house." I go, "Yeah, okay."

We really need to have a heart-to-heart talk clearing the air of any
misunderstanding Dodger might have about him and me. We're just doing
buddy-sex like we did before he went away. So that's what I'll do, have a
talk with him about that, and soon too, but not right now. I'm feeling too
good presently to deal with it. I don't even feel like interrogating Dodger
about his problems with his family. His dad was nice to him and said the
right things tonight, but there was a lack of warmth and the same with
Rob's greeting. It all looked right but was sort of cursory, sort of
superficial. Later tonight at the bar maybe I will bring up the topic.

My ass is feels so good with most of the soreness gone now and I sort of
wiggle my ass sitting in the chair because I'm enjoying my condition; the
one of being fully sexually satisfied. Dodger grins at me, chuckling. I go,
"What?" and he says, "You are the most fun to have sex with. You're beaming
and it makes me feel good making you happy." I go, "How do you know my
happy condition has anything to do with sex? I might just be high on life,
which I usually am anyway." He goes, "Okay, that too, but you love sex and
you always have. You've got the best ass ever too, and you smell good, and
you're the best looking fucker I've ever seen in my life." I go, "Hey,
Mr. Don-Juan-smooth-talker, I heard you complimenting the shit out of
Vinnie too." Our drinks arrive and we nod at the waitress, muttering,
"Thank you." The frosted straight-up glasses come with a Maraschino Cherry
while the actual Manhattan mixture is in little glass containers on the
side. The nice-looking waitress smiles at us as she pours from the
containers filling our glasses and when the glasses are filled there's
still an ounce left in the little glass container. Bonus Manhattan!

When she goes off, Dodger says, "I was complimenting Vinnie for different
things than I complimented you about just now. You get the highest
compliments I've ever given anybody because you're the only one who
deserves them." I say, "Thank you, but like I've mentioned a few times
already, you make me very uncomfortable saying shit like that." He mugs a
'face' saying, "Yep, you've told me that before, but I do it anyway. I'm
like that." Grinning, I mumble, "I suppose now I'm supposed to think up
some bogus compliments for you." He laughs, shaking his head, "Nah, I
haven't earned any compliments... yet." Well, I should compliment his
'topping' abilities but I'd rather get off the subject of 'us' entirely.

We both take a swallow of our drinks and then Dodger says, "This Manhattan
doesn't taste as bad as the last time we ordered them. I'm getting used to
Manhattans I guess." I go, "I'm a bad influence on you." He shakes his
head, "Not at all. Ordering beer before dinner isn't too cool. I'm glad to
have a cocktail I can order now." I say, "Yep, that's one of the things I
do for you young guys. I teach my young friends to drink liquor so they can
get drunk quicker and experience the horrific hangovers us older and dumber
guy need to deal with." He laughs, "I've had hangovers from beer that were
killers too, so it's not just you older guys."

He drinks some more of his Manhattan, almost finishing it off. That's a
mistake I made at first too. Being used to drinking beer I'd drink
cocktails the same way, gulping them down. I didn't do it for long though
and Dodger won't do it for long either. Drinking hard liquor gets you drunk
quicker but it can also cause one to throw-up. Dodger looks totally relaxed
and he's apparently content not saying anything, so to break his silence I
ask what it was like being in the Army for two long years? He tells me
about his medic experiences and some of the things he had to learn as well
as the unpleasant parts of being a medic, like giving enemas. He says,
"Medics are more like nurses than doctors, although in combat they at times
need to be more like doctors to try saving a life until the injured soldier
can be gotten on a helicopter and taken to a hospital." He talks for ten
minutes straight about what he had to do in the Army and I get the distinct
impression he mostly liked the experience.

So, when he takes a breath to finish off his drink, drinking the bonus
Manhattan out of the little glass contain, I say, "You liked your time in
the Army, didn't you?" He says, "Sort of, but mostly I made the best of my
time there and feel I'm a more mature and rounded person because of it. It
was a tremendous help though having your friend, Connor, with me the whole
way. We both liked it okay because we helped each other have the right
attitudes. Many guys concentrated only on the negatives of Army life, and
there are some of those for sure. Those negative guys though, well, we
stayed away from them. So yeah, it was a worthwhile experience but two
years was long enough. When they made the offer to substitute the third
year of active duty for two years of Reserves duty we jumped at the
opportunity."

The second drinks I ordered are being served as the lady at the front desk
come over, saying, "Your table is ready, fellows." The waitress says, "I'll
have your drink order added to you dinner bill." I put a five-dollar-bill
on the tray she's holding as her tip, saying, "Thanks, and I like your
smile." She smiles, saying, "I like yours too." I finish off my first drink
and we carrying our second drinks following the front desk lady to a table
next to a window that overlooks the parking lot.

We order the exact same thing for dinner we had the other night and while
eating we mostly talk about what Dodger and I did together before he joined
the Army. Skipping dessert Dodger pays with his debit card and I drive us
to his apartment so he can get his wallet. When I park at the curb, he
says, "Before we hit the bar, um, do you wanna, you know?" Actually I'd
just as soon wait until before bed to have sex again but I see desire in
his eyes, and I'm flattered he wants to do it again with me. I'm hesitating
though and he goes, "Only if you want to, Dylan. It's okay if you'd rather
not do it right now. It's just that I, you know, love doing it with you." I
go, "Oh, sure, thanks Dodger. You fuck good, dude!" He nods his head,
smiling and squeezing my arm, saying, "Great! Just a quickie."

Inside he's grinning and saying, "I'll get my wallet first so I don't
forget it again. C'mon upstairs." In his bedroom I'm feeling squirmy
anticipation again as I get undressed. My dick is tightening up a little
from just watching Dodger put his wallet in his jeans and then drops them
around his ankles. I expected he'd want me to get naked but he only takes
his jeans off, mumbling, "Oh, ha ha, you got naked, cool! Okay, let's do
it. "and he pulls his shirt tails up and holds his dick out. I drop to my
knees feeling early submissiveness and that makes me squirm a little. Oooh,
it feels nice and this submissive sense is apparently developing on its own
the more I have sex with Dodger. I suck on his cock and take it in my
throat as he murmurs, "Ooooh, feels good."

My cock gets hard almost immediately and it's good knowing what's coming
next and how good it's going to feel. Slurping and sucking his cock into a
boner takes less than a minute and this time he holds my head between his
hand, quietly saying, "Your teeth, Dylan. Cover those bottom teeth." He
takes over by holding my head steady and, moving only his hips thrusting
his cock back and forth in my throat as his eyes close and his head goes
back with him moaning, "Oooh, mmmm, feels good." I'm gagging a little while
gasping air into my lungs during the one-second his boner head is out of my
throat before it gets thrust back in.

Oh man, I just know I'm going to cum and then Dodger groans and pushes his
crotch against my face humping against my face until his orgasm shoots down
my throat. Immediately my cum shoots up in an arc from my throbbing boner
hitting Dodger's left leg. I'm trying to swallow his cum as another shot of
cum shoots from my cock and then Dodger's backing up with a startled
expression on his face. He backs into his bureau blinking fast and
breathing deeply. I'm sitting back on my ankles pulling on my dick looking
a little startled myself. Dodger's shaking his head as though he can't
believe he just shot-off in my mouth, as he's murmuring, "That was not
planned at all. I'm so sorry, Dylan, I didn't expect that. Couldn't stop."
I mumble, "It's no big deal. I liked it although, yeah, it was fucking
unexpected." He goes, "No, that was rude of me and not what I intended at
all. I love fucking you, not cumming in your mouth. I'm really sorry." He
comes over and gets me by my arms helping me up and then hugs around my
shoulders, saying, "You don't deserve that kind of selfish behavior from
me." I go, "It's fucking alright already! It happens sometimes, that's
all."

After Dodger wipes my cum off his leg and then pulls his jeans up and helps
me get dressed and we go downstairs to the kitchen. He says, "Let's have
the last of the beers from the twelve-pack in the refrigerator, okay?" I
nod, "Yeah, sure." We sit across from each other at his small kitchen table
and drink our beers. Dodger is fixated on the blow job telling me the last
time he did that was with a guy who'd come to the first aid station with a
cut on his forehead. "It was over his eyebrow. He'd turned around as
someone was lowering the tailgate on a deuce-and-a-half... and bam!" I
don't ask what a deuce-and-a-half is. "Anyway, I put seven stitches closing
the cut and then we were shooting the shit and he mentioned this gay bar
that Conner and I went to occasionally. One thing leads to another and I
put a sign on the door that I'd be back in ten-minutes and this guy sucked
me off. That time I had every intention of blasting off in his mouth, but
that was over a year ago and I haven't done that since... with anyone. Um,
until tonight and I apologize to you again."

He tells me about that gay bar and how guys would come in wearing fatigues
'cause they weren't worried they'd get in trouble for being gay even though
they were in the Army. The 'Don't ask, don't tell' rule had been
overturned. I ask, "You and Connor, er, did you guys, um, do it, ah,
much...?" He shrugs, "I'll let Connor tell you if he wants to, if that's
okay with you. You'll see him at Merrimack this coming fall." I nod my head
and then ask, "What's the story about you and your family, Dodger. You and
Rob were the tightest brother combo since Chubby and me. Well hell, you two
were tighter than us in one area, so what happened?" He shrugs, "There was
a time when I was hot to tell you deep-dark-secrets about Rob, but like I
said earlier, I'm more mature now and it'd be petty of me to bring up old
negative things about him or my Mom and Dad. I will say, what you see isn't
always what you get long-term." What the fuck's he talking about? Rob and I
have been together four-years. How long-term does he mean?

I'm peeling the label off my bottle of beer listening, and then say, "Can
you be a little more forthcoming? Generally speaking I mean." He says,
"Generally speaking, without getting into specifics, Rob has a mean
dangerous streak in him that his usually mild demeanor covers-up. And my
parent, especially my mother, are the same as Rob, although Mom doesn't
have as good a cover as Rob. She was especially mean to me about the Army
thing calling me irresponsible and selfish, which to a degree I was, but
dear old Mom was kinda vicious about it. And then Dad re-naming the company
by adding, 'Son' instead of 'Sons' was hurtful. They made my life miserable
before I left for boot camp and then they did a complete turn-around and
had that send-off party for Connor and me. That was nice of them but
neither has ever said they were sorry about calling me names. Names that I
don't want to go into with you because it's embarrassing for me and it
should be for them. Yeah, and all the time I'm keeping my gayness a secret
so as not to break their hearts about have too fag sons instead of one."

He was getting hotter and hotter telling me that stuff and then he, calmly
now, adds, "It doesn't sound like anything to hold a grudge about I
guess. Not from what I've told you, but I'm not going to tell you the
details because it's fucking embarrassing the way the three of them treated
me. So when Rob told me I screwed-up his first week as supervisor I told
him I didn't give fuck. They didn't give a fuck about me so why should I
give a fuck about them, ya know?" I nod, "Yeah, I guess. Um, but now
there's like a truce between all of you, huh?" He goes, "It's been a truce,
sort of, for the past year. They called me insensitive for not visiting
during my two-week leaves from the Army, but I felt hollow inside for a
long time. Connor was a great help though. Oh hell, ya know how someone can
praise you for something ten-times but the thing they remember the most is
the one time they criticized the shit out of you. At least that's the way I
usually am." I nod again, muttering, "I know what you mean."

Well this has been a major fucking downer and I didn't learn much I hadn't
surmised already, so I change the subject, asking brightly, "So,
money-bags, are you gonna buy a car or just stick with the motorcycle?" He
brightens up, "Oh man, I'm buying a Mini convertible next week. I was
looking at them last week, just for the hell of it, but now I'm sold on the
idea of buying that car and maybe driving it across country to California
when I visit Josh. I mentioned I was gonna visit him, didn't I?" I go,
"Yeah, you did, and a Mini is a cool car alright." I'm thinking about Ryan
Wilcox's Mini convertible obviously. Ryan looked so cool in that car! I
ask, "You drove all the way to Peabody to look at Minis?" He shakes his
head, "No, there's a Mini dealership in Boston. I took the motorcycle into
Boston with Vinnie last Thursday to check them out in person."

He's back in a good mood as he gets up and opens the last two bottles of
beer in the refrigerator. I look at my bottle, surprised to see I drank it
all. Listening to Dodger I was unconsciously chugging it. Dodger hands me a
bottle and then taps the neck of his bottle to my bottle, saying, "Here's
to Mini Coopers," and we chug. He sits down and tells me that he's finally
located an Army Reserve Armory in Framingham. He thought he'd need to go to
one much further away in the town of Ashland. First thing Monday he's going
to report in and find out the date of the first weekend meeting. He goes,
"Mostly I'll just spend the day, nine-to-five, Saturday and Sunday at the
Armory. You know, going home in between the Saturday and Sunday meetings. A
few times a year there's overnight weekends and then of course the
two-weeks in the summer... so it kinda sucks but is far better that another
solid year of active duty."

We take our time with the second beer laughing about things from our past
and then Dodger tells me more stories about Army life making it sound like
fun. I like hearing the stories that include Connor, who Dodger claims is
just as awesome as ever, except, "I don't know how to put it, but Connor's
more, um, more sure of himself now. I guess that's as good way as any to
describe him. Still the nicest guy I've personally ever met and I love him
like a very close friend, but he too has matured in the Army." He tells me
about Connor's boyfriend, who apparently is nice but not what you'd
especially call good-looking, although he's not ugly or a freak or
anything. That's how Dodger put it anyway.

It's coming up on eleven o'clock when Dodger says, "You wanna try it again,
Dylan." He obviously want to, so I nod, "Sure, let's try it again." Too
many windows in the living room so, with Dodger's hand squeezing the back
of my neck lightly, he guides me upstairs making me feel a little like I'm
being taken to the principal's office after being caught smoking in the
boy's room again. It also gives me a twinge of a submissive sense. I've
been noticing more frequent spurts of submissiveness caused by the way
Dodger does thing during our buddy-sex episodes. In the bedroom he pulls my
head over and kisses me on the lips, murmuring, "Just take off your pants,
no need to get totally naked. We'll do the naked sex before bed tonight." I
feel a little shiver zip through me and it feels good.

When both our pants and underwear are over the arm of the chair in the
corner, he says, "Lay over the bed with your feet on the floor like I had
you do before." Now I'm shivering constantly with anticipation remembering
this is the way he spanked me before. I'm sensing a nice submissive trance
now, one like I haven't felt with Dodger before. I do as he says and he
pushes my shirt up my back and spanks my ass until my hand goes back to
ward off more smacks. He holds my arm away with a hand on my wrist and
gives my ass three more hard smacks, and then says, "Okay, that's a very
nice spanked ass, hopefully to your liking." We're apparently dispensing
with the cock sucking since we already did that earlier, so I scramble up
on the bed and get in position. My ass really stings but I'm in a delicious
submissive trance by now, the best one I've had so far with Dodger and I
can't fucking wait to feel his fat boner fucking me. My shoulders shudder
just thinking about what's coming. I'm really into Dodger's routine by now
and I'm liking it a lot.

He gets up on the bed behind me, saying, "Get that ass up a little higher."
I do that and almost whine I'm so aroused. Dodger takes his time doing his
thing of rubbing his cock over my ass getting it firmed-up and then he
plugs it in hard and my back arches but the pain feels good. Now that I'm
expecting it, and used to it, I embrace it as part of our sex act. The hurt
of entry followed by his two hard thrusts forcing his entire
four-plus-inches of fat-hard cock all the way up my ass contrasts with the
incredible pleasure I get from being fucked. The pain only increases the
pleasure. In the meantime the pain fades faster every time we do this. I
moan with anticipation as Dodger rubs my back, murmuring, "You're so
special, Dylan, and you don't even realize it." The pain fades to pleasure
before he's done saying that and I push my ass up even higher to try
pleasing him, and to signal I'm good to go.

It's the same fast so-called monkey-fuck with more pleasure than before
because I know what to expect now. Hard thrusting with grunts from Dodger
sets-off my prostate into a state of delirium, pleasure growing and glowing
with me doing moans of pleasure. It feels amazing as I move my face back
and forth on the pillow, moaning, "Oooh, oooh, ooh, ooh, Dodger, harder,
omigod, ooh!" and he thrusts harder rocking my whole body forward with
every thrust. I last about as long as last time; four-to-five minutes of
extreme awesomeness and then my eyes open wide as I lift my head, my body
getting very stiff and I go, "Oooh, ooooh! Eeeeiiii!" and a short steam of
cum shoots out feeling like a much larger orgasm. My body is quivering all
over with my shoulders doing their little shuddering and another little
streak of cum shoots out with me shaking my body the way a wet dog
shakes. And then, "Oooh, man," as sensations settled down and begin fading
and I limply lower my face onto the pillow again.

Dodger pulls out as soon as he sees me limply being jostled. He says, "I
just wanted to make sure you had a good climax, Dylan. It would take me
another few minutes and I don't want to hurt your insides too much." I roll
over on my side still feeling wonderful, but now noticing that my buttocks
is still stinging from the spanking and around my asshole it's sore. Taking
a deep breath, I mutter, "Thanks, Dodger. My ass is a little sore." He lies
next to me and pulls me against him like he did when we slept together at
my house.

The back of my head is on his chest with his arm across my stomach as he
rubs my hair up off my sweaty forehead, asking, "Who cuts your hair?" I go,
"Your brother, why?" He says, "It's a nice haircut. I mean the style is
cool, but it's uneven in the back and up here," and he draws his finger
near the top of the left side of my head. Yeah well I noticed the
unevenness on the side but haven't looked at the back. Overall I was
feeling good about the haircut until now. I say, "That's okay. He gets
better with each haircut and I like him doing it." He quietly says, "You
love him, huh?" I go, "Uh huh. I have for quite some time." He lowers his
head close to mine, quietly asking, "Do you think you could ever love me?"
I say, "Don't do this, Dodger, please." He rubs the side of his chin
against the side of me head, murmuring, "Okay, I won't."

We lie like this, him holding me so I'm partially on his chest, wrinkling
our shirts I suppose, but it's pleasant lying on him like this. I could go
to sleep but after a couple of minutes, he asks, "Would you join me for a
few beers at that bar?" I say, "Okay," and he slides out from under me and
we get off the bed. I say, "I really enjoyed that sex, Dodger." He's wiping
his dick with Handy Wipes and then, while pulling on underpants, he asks,
"Is the spanking to your liking? We could do without it as far as I'm
concerned, but I know it helps you get that submissive feeling, so..." I
look at him, "How'd you know about that?" He goes, "Know what?" I say,
"That I like to feel submissive during sex." He shrugs and pulls on his
jeans, saying, "We discussed that the first night I was at your
place. Don't you remember I told you I've known it like forever. From when
I was fifteen and fucking you in the pool a few times. I think it's wicked
cool of you by the way. It's one of a hundred reasons you and I are good
for each other, but we all love who we love whether we should or not, even
though there are more suitable people to love. It's the way of the world
for us humans as we're all doing the best we can."

I'm staring at him, and then say, "Oh yeah, I remember that discussion. A
number of guys know about me liking the submissive role, but what I didn't
know is that you're a philosopher, Dodger, love who we love whether we
should or not." He grins, "I'm a lot of things. I read, ya know." Nodding
my head, I mutter, "Let's get drunk and talk silly shit about our
philosophies of life." He goes, "Let's do the first part and shoot some
pool instead of the second part." I've got my khakis on now and I realize
I'm kinda missing the feeling of having fresh cum up my ass and I almost
tell him that, but then come to my senses and don't. He'd fuck me again
until he shot a load up there and I am sore. It was considerate that he
wanted to give me an orgasm but pulled out before his because he didn't
want to hurt my ass more.

Driving in this complex at night is a bit hairy because there are zero
lights and it's pitch black tonight, plus the road is partially covered in
dirt from the constant movement of construction vehicles coming off dirt
onto the paved road; high-beams are a priority. The bar closest to Dodger's
place is in a smallish plaza off Route 30 called the Frederick Plaza. The
bar is called Frank's Tavern and it's in the middle of the plaza that also
has a Dunkin' Donuts, a Speedy Cleaners, a Rite Aid Drugstore, and a
Domino's Pizza shop. Very convenient to his apartment complex actually. We
park and go in Frank's Tavern. It's sort of narrow place with a long bar on
the right and along the wall opposite the bar there are small tables for
two. The aisle in between the bar and the tables leads back to a
coin-operated pool table. No windows at all, but two big screen flat TV's,
both showing the post game show after the Sox game that the team won 9 to
4. Hey, Vinnie saw a good ball game with his Dad.

Frank's Tavern is jumping tonight. It's crowded although there are some
empty seats at the long bar. Dodger and I stand inside the front door with
him saying, "When you think about it, this place is an oasis in an
otherwise barren strip on Route 30 from the Mass Pike all the way to the
Natick Mall. No wonder it's crowded on a Saturday night." There's no sound
from the TV's but music is playing fairly loudly and the chatter is at a
fairly high volume. Just the way I like it. In this environment, we can
carry on a conversation without feeling self-conscious that strangers are
eavesdropping. Three of the empty seats I mentioned are on the end of the
bar near the door, where we're standing. I guess people don't want to feel
the warm air coming in every time the door opens.

We sit at two stools at the very end of the bar and eventually a
large-bellied bartender with a bigger than necessary head and lots of gray
hair comes down to say, "Welcome to Frank's. You boys have ID I assume."
Dodger smiles and goes, "You know what they say about the word 'assume',"
and the bartender goes, "Yes, I do. And I assume you know I must check for
ID." We show our licenses and ironically he merely glances at Dodger's but
give mine the third degree putting in under a special light before smiling
at me, saying, "You take a nice picture, son. What'll you two lads have?"
We get Bud draft beers that come in twelve-ounce mugs, although not frozen
mugs like at the Beef and Ale House. We drink some of the cold brew and
then Dodger puts his head over near mine and whispers, "That sex tonight
was awesome, don'cha think? I mean even though I screwed up at first."
He's still harping on him cumming in my mouth. It's no big deal although he
seems to think it was very crude of him. I go, "I didn't mind any of it and
loved most of it. You're a really good buddy-sex partner." He shrugs,
"Thanks, you too. It's all been quite sensational since coming home"

It made me grin when he mentioned the sex because obviously he was looking
for compliments, so for a joke I squirm on the bar stool like my ass hurts
getting a chuckle and a squeeze on my shoulder from Dodger. He goes,
"You're not faking it. Your eyes are shiny just thinking about me screwing
your cute butt." I go, "Hey you, maybe my eyes are shiny because I'm
getting drunk." Dodger's stool is next to the wall and mine is at the
corner of the bar with an empty stool next to me, and then there are two
guys in their late twenties or early thirties sitting on the next two
stools. One of the two is wearing a wedding band and he says to his friend
in this big voice. "Ya know there's a medical distinction between having
Balls and having Guts. This is straight from the Medical Journal that
Doctors refer to." His friend says, "This is a joke, right?" The other guy
says, "Just listen, okay? Guts is when you get home late after a night on
the town doing some heavy drinking and you're met by your wife at the
door. She was sweeping when you came in late and she gives you a dirty look
holding the broom. It takes guts to say 'Are you still cleaning or are you
flying off somewhere?'" The other guy laughs and the first guy goes
on. "Then there's Balls. Coming home drunk smelling of perfume and booze,
lipstick on your collar and you have the balls to slap your wife on the
ass, saying, 'Don't fret, you're next, fatty.'" He goes, "Medically
speaking of course there's no difference in the outcome, both are fatal."
And they laugh. I could just barely hear the guy but I have to smile at the
cornball joke. Dodger asks what the smile is for and I tell him the joke.

We get another beer and talk about the possible trip to Las Vegas which
doesn't sound as far-fetched now that I'm fairly drunk. The guy down the
bar has another joke. He goes, "Oh get this, Nick! I've recently discovered
that one in five people on earth are Chinese. Well fuck, I have five people
in my immediate family so one of us must be Chinese, right? It's obviously
not me, so it's either my Mom or Dad or maybe my older brother, Colin, or
maybe my younger brother Ho-Chan-Chu, but I'm pretty sure it's Colin." Lots
of laughing and I chuckle along with them making the guy look over at me. I
mumble, "I couldn't help overhearing. Very funny." He goes, "Ya like jokes,
huh?" and he tells one I can see the punch line coming a mile off. He goes,
"This guy's in the hospital seriously injured with an oxygen mask on his
face. A cute nurse comes in to give him a sponge bath and he asks, 'Are my
testicles back yet?' She looks embarrassed and begins sponging him, saying,
"We only do above the belly-button and your legs.' He's frustrated and asks
through the oxygen mask, "Yeah, but are my testicles back yet?' She rolls
her eyes and lifts the sheet to push the hospital Johnny aside and lifts
his balls so he can see them. The man snorts out a laugh, takes the oxygen
mask off, saying, "That feels good hon, but are my tests results back yet?'
We do a polite chuckle and he waves a hand at us smiling and muttering, "No
sense of humor."

Dodger and I drink some more and when the comedian leaves with his friend,
Nick, Dodger says to me, "Not to get too personal but has my brother given
up yet on organizing your life from now to your eventual funeral?" I say,
"He never did that in the first place, but I know what you mean and, yes,
we've agreed there are no timetables for anything. We still might get
married someday but the glow of that idea is waning. Why get married, ya
know?" He nods, "Well in case you don't know, I've always had a serious,
um, crush or something on you." I just give him a noncommittal 'look' and
say nothing. He goes, "Okay, I'm drunk, but I know you like me." I say
quietly, so no one hears but him, "I love you, Dodger, but not the way you
want," and this too makes me think again of Ryan. I need to reach out to
him. Dodger pats my back, saying, "I know, I know. It's okay. You've told
me before. You're consistent anyway." He kinda sulks for a bit but Dodger
isn't the sulking kind; not for long anyway and as he looks down the end of
the bar his eyes light up. "Hey, Dylan," and he grabs my arm, "The pool
tables isn't being used. C'mon." We take our beers with us and shoot pool
until one o'clock in the morning drinking another four or five beers in the
process before I can finally convince Dodger it's time to leave.

Driving very carefully, but not overly slow because the cops watch for that
too, I drive us to Dodger's apartment safely. He's a happy drunk singing a
song I don't recognize because he doesn't sing nearly as well as Rob. We're
both far from falling-down-drunk, but we're far from sober too. In the
bedroom we get naked and Dodger does a short drunken make-out with me for
the first time since returning from the Army, and what a great body he has!
I'm extremely fond of him so my dick gets hard again in a very short
time. He feels it against his body as we wrestle around rubbing each
other's body. Gasping he says, "Get in your position, Dylan," and he smacks
my ass hard. I almost cum right then knowing exactly what's coming. Too
quickly I comply and get on my knees with my face on the pillow and my
forearms on either side of it. I push my ass way up as he chuckles and then
gets serious and puts a hard fucking on my ass. I just love it! My climax
holds off for six-or-seven-minutes this time and then we climax almost
together. Small climaxes but with the same intensity as large
ones. Awesome!

Breathing hard, Dodger murmurs, "Just stay like that, Dylan." He takes a
minute to catch his breath and then fucks me for a long time as I'm
squirming around and eventually going flat on the bed almost crying at how
incredibly sexy and awesome it feels. Neither of us climaxes again but
Dodger finally is exhausted so he pulls out and gets his arm around me
pulling me over partially on his body again the way he did at my
place. We're both a little sweaty as he holds me lightly, saying, "Pull the
covers over us," and after I do that I rustle around a little getting
comfortable. My last thought is, 'Oh jeez, my ass hurts for real now,' and
then I fall asleep feeling Dodger's beating heart against my chest.

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

Hey guys, how about making a small (or large, go for it!) tax deductible
donation to nonprofit Nifty. They could use your help covering the expenses
inherent in maintaining a free story site this size. Easy directions about
how to do that on their 'home page'. Thanks!

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