Date: Fri, 13 Oct 2017 16:09:27 -0400
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S JUNIOR YEAR SUMMER     Chapter  6

DYLAN'S SUMMER FOLLOWING HIS COLLEGE JUNIOR YEAR


Chapter  6


by  Donny Mumford


Sonny and his motorbike friend, Thomas, carry bottles of Miller Lite
downstairs to the basement. And yes, it's 'Thomas'; not 'Tom' or
'Tommy'. Okay, no big deal although it's maybe a tad pretentious of him to
insist on being called that. Using a formal first name is a growing trend I
fear, a trend my brother doesn't abide by. He always makes up a nickname
for guys like Thomas. Hell, I don't care enough one way or the other to
make an issue of it. Hayden, who is Danny Monday's main squeeze, calls
everyone by their formal first name too, whether they want him to or not.

When Sonny steps off into the basement he's like, "Ah yes, this place
brings back memories of that awesome summer when you were a
posse-boy-recruit, Dylan." Yeah well, as I've said many times, that summer
as Ray's boyfriend is a regrettable memory for me. What I don't often
mention, however, is that I mostly enjoyed the posse boy experience. I
liked all the boys and, if I'm honest with myself, sex with Ray that summer
had some spectacular aspects to it. His ego was the thing I mostly couldn't
deal with and therefore was the main reason for ending the
relationship. Also, Ray took advantage of my submissiveness back then and
in the process extracted some revenge for all the years I sort of mocked
him without really knowing him. As his boyfriend, I discovered he had some
admirable qualities to go along with that dominant and over-confident
personality of his, which proved a lethal combination in the end. What the
fuck, I allowed myself to fall under Ray's spell to an embarrassing
degree. Because of that I have no legitimate reason to question why the
posse boys looked up to him; I did too for six to eight weeks. Hard to
admit, but I'm admitting it now although that's all best left in the past,
which is why I have no comment to Sonny's remark about that summer. Thomas
mutters, "Posse boys? Jesus, you queer boys certainly have some weird
fun. I gotta give you that."

I glance at Sonny with a quizzical expression on my face, and he says,
"Thomas isn't homophobic, Dylan, not really. I think he's mostly jealous."
Thomas does a breathy exhale, muttering, "Me jealous of you gay boys?
That's a humongous distortion of reality, Sonny. I simply don't care what
you perverts do one way or the other." I'm getting out the barber tools
avoiding that discussion although it is good to know where Thomas stands. I
didn't know what to think when I saw Sonny had a friend with him when I
opened the front door. Sonny says to me, "Thomas has never had a girlfriend
and if I had to guess I'd say he's a virgin." I shrug, still not wanting to
get involved. Thomas plops himself down on the chaise-lounge, saying, "I'm
not a virgin, Sonny, and you know I'm not." Sonny goes, "No I don't know!
Just because that twat, Arlene, says you had sex with her doesn't mean it's
true. She's had a crush on you since seventh grade and she'd verify any lie
you told me."

This is getting tedious, so I go, "Please guys, bicker among yourselves
somewhere else. I don't care if Thomas is a virgin or not. Or if he's gay,
straight, or bi." Thomas says, "It's just that Sonny's oversexed. He talks
about sex all the time and he desperately wants me to be his gay
boyfriend. That's something I simply can't be even if he is my best friend
ever." I look at Sonny who laughs and then says, "It's true! I'm obsessed
with Thomas. I love him to death but he won't let me suck his rather
prodigious dick." I yell, "Stop! Please! I don't wanna know any more!"
Thomas chuckles, "Sonny and I are best friends but we have this small
complication of him being horny for me. Heh heh, maybe you'll get lucky
someday, Sonny." Sonny goes, "I'm hoping!"

Sonny apparently hasn't changed. He's a straight-acting gay guy who will
come right out and tell you he's gay even if you don't want to know. He's
been out of the closet for over two years now and at first when he tried
telling everyone he was gay no one believed him. And then, of course, his
rather spectacular first sex with me. Quite a memory for me; one I was
daydreaming about before they got here. It kinda burst my memory bubble
when I saw he had someone with him. Even though I say that, there wasn't
going to be a repeat of anything remotely similar to what we had that
summer. Still, I did think we might have a generic screw for old time
sake. With his friend here that's obviously not going to happen.

"Who wants to go first?" I ask, and Thomas says, "Sonny, you go first. I
want to see how talented Dylan is before subjecting myself to a
home-haircut from him." Ha, that remark from someone whose last haircut was
Sonny shaving his head! Sonny shrugs, "Okay, Thomas." Huh, the way Sonny
said that I'm thinking perhaps Thomas is the leader for these two. That
surprises the hell out of me because Sonny's normally so brash and
confident I'd have thought he'd be the leader, or it would at least be
neutral as to who bosses who. Sonny guzzles some beer and then says to me,
"Shampoo first, Dylan, right?" and Thomas mutters, "No shampoo for
me. That's way too gay, but just right for you two." By now he's borderline
getting on my nerves, but I shrug it off. As Sonny and I walk into the
half-bath Thomas calls after us, "Please try to keep the moans down. And
remember what I told you, Sonny."

I'm dragging a chair into the bathroom with me and when I close the door,
I'm like, "What'd he tell you that you're supposed to remember?" Sonny
goes, "I have no fucking idea," and he takes the chair from me to set it
backwards against the front of the sink with the chair's front legs off the
floor. Pulling his T-shirt over his head and dropping it on the toilet seat
lid he sits on the chair, grinning up at me, "Please do it slowly, Dylan. I
love this part of the salon treatment." Salon treatment? Huh, I haven't
thought of that expression in a long time. That's what I was calling the
shampoo and haircuts that summer. I started doing the shampoos for the
posse boys because I was extra horny in my youth and liked fussing over the
boys. Hell, I still like doing it except I'm not as horny as I used to be.

My Mom hardly ever comes in this half-bath so the short hose is still
attached to the faucet from last Friday when Robby and I used it. While
wetting Sonny's hair I ask what I always asks, "What kind of haircut do you
want after the shampoo?" Sonny says, "Thomas and I were talking about that
very thing earlier. I think we settled on regular haircuts but let me check
with him before you start." Ha, he needs to ask Thomas what kind of haircut
he should get. Well, actually I can relate to that!

Rubbing shampoo into his hair, I'm like, "So, Thomas is your leader, huh?"
Sonny nods his head, "Yes, I like having a leader. The best leader I ever
had was Ray and he still is the rare times I hook-up with him nowadays. He
still bosses me around, which I like, but we don't have sex because he's
got a full-time boyfriend and girlfriend." Not wanting to, but I ask
anyway, "Do the old posse boys still get together with Ray as their
leader?" He shrugs, "Nah, just me and Bean occasionally. You should call
Ray though. He was a damn good boyfriend to you and I'm sure he'd give you
a good hard fucking for old time sake." I mutter, "Lucky me," as dammit, my
dick does a little twitch in my pants. Sonny turns his head to look at me,
saying, "Honestly, Ray will forgive you. I asked him and he said if you
apologized properly he'd let bygones be bygones." Huh, that's what Bean
said too... and it's preposterous! It's also surprising Ray is still
thought of so highly by at least two of the ex-posse boys.

Massaging Sonny's scalp with my fingertips, I mumble, "You have a distorted
view of that summer. It's called revisionist history, Sonny.  As I recall,
near the end of that summer you said I was better at being the leader of
the posse boys than Ray." He chuckles, "I said that to make you feel
good. Jeeezus, you didn't believe me, did you?"

Letting that go unanswered, and to change the subject, I ask, "Have you
actually tried to get Thomas to let you suck him off?" Sonny goes, "Yeah,
all the time, wouldn't you? Look at him. That boy is a hottie!" Not
really. Then he goes, "Could we not talk during the shampoo, Dylan? I like
to zone-out and enjoy being pampered." That's fine by me. I'd like to enjoy
a quiet experience myself. Jeez, Sonny still has the intriguing personal
scent though.  I was remembering it earlier today. He still has the same
youthful pale creamy skin on his face too, and it extends to his
torso. Huh, quite an enticing body on this kid. He doesn't have any chest
hairs, which is good because his skin is so flawless hair would detract
from it. A lot of redheads have freckles but not Sonny except for a few
small ones across the bridge of his cute nose. No, Sonny's a redhead, or
red/orange head is more like it, with the pale creamy complexion you often
see on guys with red hair.

With shampoo saturating his hair I rinse my hands and dry them so I can
massage his shoulders and the back of his neck. I like touching him. Sonny
sighs, making me grin. He's like me in one way; we both like being touched
but only by the right people of course. His chest has only subtle muscle
definition so he obviously hasn't done any type of body building. Just his
natural body but it's pretty fucking sexy anyway. Sonny's bright green eyes
are closed as he does another quiet sigh, his body relaxing
completely. When I see some rosy color on his shoulders from my massaging
fingers I rub the palms of my hands over his shoulder and down onto his
chest and over his nipples. He grins as I see his lap forming a tent and
after a few seconds he quietly murmurs, "Don't stop, Dylan." Christ, I'm
getting a stiffy in my pants too so I go back to shampooing his hair and he
quietly murmurs, "Ah, you're no fun."

Rinsing the shampoo out of his hair I get some conditioner and rub that
into his hair and let it stay in there for a minute or two. I'm staring at
his youthful face that now has a smattering of baby whiskers here and there
and I again feel disappointment that he brought Thomas with him. So, not
today, but I'm sure Sonny and I will revisit old times before the summer's
over. After rinsing out the conditioner and roughly drying his hair with a
towel I finish drying it with a hairdryer and brush. The conditioner
softened his hair and with only a few swipes of the hairbrush his hair lays
down nicely. His hair on the sides completely covers his ears. I go, "There
ya go, Sonny," and he says, "That was awesome," and he gets up to wrap his
arms around me. My eyebrows shoot up at this unexpected move on his part
and then he gives me a sexy kiss or the lips, a wet sloppy sexy kiss. I go,
"Oooh, nice, Sonny!  He asks, "Do you still keep lubricant in here?" I go,
"Huh, wha... lubricant? Your friend is right outside! We can't..."

Letting go of me Sonny goes down on one knee and opens the cabinet doors
under the sink. He moves stuff around coming out with KY Jelly, which he
shows me. Standing up he says, "Drop your pants and I'll do you quick and
hard for old times." I shake my head, "Not with your friend..." Sonny pulls
my pants down to my knees and with the top of his head bumping my chin he
reaches behind me pushing lube up my ass. His finger follows the second
glob of lubricant inside my ass and he rubs my prostate and then finger
fucks my hole a dozen times very fast as I go up on my toes, my hands
gripping his shoulder as I moan, "Uummm, ooooh, Sonny, no," Pulling his
finger out he pulls his zipper down and fishes out his hard cock,
muttering, "Forget Thomas for the moment," and then he strokes his cock,
spreading the lubricant from the head to the root while telling me, "Turn
around and grab hold of the sink."

Oh fuck, I can't resist so I do that and Sonny kicks my legs apart and then
gives my ass a few hard smacks, and the, "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" sounds can
surely be heard in the basement. My face blushes but I'm hooked. Sonny's
between my legs with the head of his cock at my asshole and then with a
grunt he thrust it in past my slippery prostate gland. I go, "Oooh!" His
hands grip my hips, the right hand slippery with lubricant. No hesitation,
he humps his seven inches of hard cock up my ass and I stifle a groan of
pain. Sonny leans his head next to mine, whispering, "You've still got the
best ass in America." I'm holding my breath waiting for my rectum to stop
complaining and of course it does and then a moan slips out as the pleasure
starts flowing from inside me, "Ooooh, mmmm, feels good."

Taking a hand from my hip he dominantly pushes my head forward getting some
lubricant in my hair, murmuring, "Keep your ass out, Dylan," and he pushes
my head down further as I push my ass out for him feeling the beginnings of
a submissive trance settling over my brain. Another couple of hard smacks
on my ass, "Smack! Smack!' and then it's hard fast penetrations, "Slap,
slap, slap, slap!" for three minutes with my cock hard as stone and then
I'm struggling against the sink as my climax roars up on me announcing that
it's ready to blow. Sonny has my head pushed level with the sink thrusting
his boner in my ass grunting and making noisy breathing sounds. His orgasm
is on him now too as he's humping against my buttocks. I squeal with my
hips humping as cum steams from my hard cock splattering off the cabinet
under the sink and spraying the front of my legs. I feel Sonny's hard
stream of creamy cum strike inside my bowels as another hard stream of cum
flies from my rock-hard boner leaving me trembling with incredible
sensations in my rectum and all around my groin. Sonny groans quietly as
another load of his semen floods my bowels.

We're both limp now with Sonny lying against me, his hand still at the back
of my head pushing my face in the sink so that my nose almost touches the
drain. I smell the nice scent of the conditioner I rinsed out of his hair
five minutes ago. With a shudder and a sigh, he takes his hand away from my
head and straightens-up pulling his cock from my ass. After two more
stinging smacks, "Smack! Smack!" he says, "Whoa, that was good!" and then
another, "Smack!" with me yelping out, "Ow! No more, Sonny." He grunts out,
"You know what to do now, Dylan." He picks up his T-shirt and holds it
halfway up his stomach as he sits on the toilet seat lid holding his sloppy
cock out. I find myself in an old time Sonny-induced-trance that's so nice
I almost smile. It's a really cool sensation. My smacked ass is stinging
and hot but feels so good and, to maintain this awesome submissive sense, I
drop down on my knees between Sonny's legs and take his sloppy cock from
his fingers.

Holding it I look up at Sonny. He smiles and nods his head encouragingly so
I put his sloppy cock in my mouth and suck on it for a minute or two. It
gets fairly hard again like young guys' cocks will do. Sonny says, "Get up
and sit on it. I make a gasping sound totally entranced by Sonny's cool
manner. Standing I pull one leg out of my pants and, putting my hands on
his shoulders, I get a leg on either side of the toilet seat and he smacks
my ass again, "SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!" and says, "Get down on it," and I sit
slowly until the head of his cock slides inside me again with sensations of
pleasure picking up where they left off two minutes ago. "Ride my big cock,
Dylan." Dropping my head, resting my forehead on his shoulder, my arms
around his neck, I lift and drop my ass fast with him murmuring,
"Good... faster." Three, four, five minutes of awesomeness has me moaning
and inhaling Sonny's scent, the side of my face tightly against the side of
his neck as he has a hand on both my butt cheeks going along for the
ride. I let out a long moan of pleasure, "Oooooh, ooooh, yeah," and he
smacks my ass again, saying, "Get off," When I do he turns me around and,
with his arm around the front of my throat, both of us standing now, he
gets his boner up my ass again lifting up until I'm up on my toes again and
then it's, "Slapslapslaopslap," sounds for another two minutes. Another
orgasm roars up on me and I gasp humping my hips as and a small plop of cum
hits the floor with flashbulbs going off in my head. Sonny must have
already had his second climax as he's breathing deeply and backing away
pulling his cock out.

We both take a minute to get ourselves back to reality and then Sonny,
murmurs, "You're absolutely the best, Dylan. That was as real as it gets."
I go, "You certainly haven't lost it. Great buddy sex, Sonny." He goes,
"Lean over the sink again and I'll clean some of that cum off your
wonderful ass." Oh, man that was really hot! I lean over the sink as Sonny
uses a hand towel to wipe drooling cum off my ass. Dropping the towel, he
pulls up my pants and pats my ass. I feel more of his cum soaking into my
underwear and it'll soak through my sweatpants too. Sonny tucks my
sweatshirt inside my sweatpants and hugs me from behind, murmuring, "Thank
you from the bottom of my heart, Dylan. It was much too fast but the best
fuck I've had since the last time I fucked you a year or so ago." I don't
remember the time he's referring too but I feel good and I'm sort of
leaning back against him. He murmurs, "Next time I'll tie you up," and then
he adds, "You're so awesome."

Everything's feeling awesome alright, and then I think about the loud
sounds we both made during that fast sex. My face gets red as I say,
"Sonny, that was really good, but your fucking friend heard us." He says,
"No problem. I told him what we'd do in here. He knows, this isn't anything
new to him and he doesn't give a shit. I've got a steady fuck buddy that
Thomas knows and likes. The three of us hang-out together sometimes." He's
putting on his T-shirt as I feel my ass and, yep, Sonny's cum has already
made a wet spot back there. Dammit!

Washing my face and hands and then wiping the back of my head where Sonny's
hand had lube on it. Then I check myself in the mirror over the sink to be
sure no gunk from Sonny's cock is around my mouth. Pulling my sweatshirt
out to cover the wet spot at the back of my sweatpants, I'm like, "I
thought you liked being bossed around." He goes, "Oh fuck, not with you
though! Jesus, Dylan, you and I have a relationship that's special. You're
the only guy I dominate. You know that." I mutter, "No I didn't know that
and I don't know if I like what that implies." He says, "It doesn't imply
anything. It's what you like, so I fuck you dominantly. Jesus, if you don't
know how awesome I think you are by now, I don't know what to tell you."

Nodding my head at Sonny I sheepishly step out of the bathroom trying to
convince myself that sex was worth a little embarrassment. Self-consciously
I feel my ass and happily notice Sonny's cum hasn't soaked through the
sweatshirt. Sonny's right behind me and we both see that Thomas has the TV
on and he's watching one of the countless Sports Center shows on ESPN. He
looks up, saying, "That was faster than I expected. I heard you squealing
like a school girl, Sonny." Sonny goes, "What can I say? I'd do the same
squealing if you fucked me up my bum." Thomas chuckles, "Don't hold your
breath, bro."

Huh, Sonny didn't correct Thomas that it was me who squealed... and he left
the inference that I was the 'top'. Sonny sits on the barber stool and his
friend grins, saying, "I'll bet your ass stings after the spanking I
heard," and he nods his head at me, adding, "Dylan really laid a spanking
on your ass." Sonny goes, "Love taps, that's all. Hey, what kind of
haircuts did we finally decide we'd get?" Thomas shrugs, "Regular haircut,
Sonny. After our bizarre head shaving we need a return to normalcy." Sonny
looks at me, "Just a regular haircut, Dylan."

That excitement in the half-bath was like no big deal to either of
them. Huh, it's on to the haircuts I guess. Damn, they're both incredibly
blasé about that. Is it a regular thing that Thomas waits in another
room while Sonny has sex with his sex buddy? I can't imagine that but I'm
not gonna ask about it now. Yeah but I'd sure like to know how much sex
Sonny's getting nowadays. He seemed horny in the bathroom five minutes ago,
although he sure knew what he was doing. I put the barber's cape around
Sonny and he goes, "Holy shit! When did you get a barber's cape?" I tell
him about the two guys who faked their way into getting free haircuts at
college. I forget the guy they lied about knowing, not that it makes any
fucking difference now.

Okay, now here's another thing: how do I know what Sonny and Thomas think a
'regular haircut' is? Fuck it; I'll decide for them. I know they'll agree
because most guys aren't into haircut styles like I am. Almost anything
will pass as a so-called regular haircut. Using clippers at first and then
scissors-over-comb, because that takes longer and I want to drag out the
haircut. I enjoy myself cutting Sonny's hair. He and Thomas talk about
whether or not they're going to some girl's party tonight. A girl who
Thomas knows from his neighborhood. From the way their conversation goes
it's more obvious than ever that Robert is Sonny's latest authority
figure. Again, that surprises me because Sonny has always been in-charge
whenever he and I have sex, but then he did give his explanation for
that. Actually we never did things together, except for haircuts and
fucking.  And we were only occasional fuck-buddies that summer.

As I'm cutting his hair I can't stop thinking about how hot that quick sex
Sonny and I just had was, and how much I enjoyed doing it with him
again. That's a little puzzling but then so are a lot of other things;
puzzling to me anyway. Maybe it was so enjoyable because it was a pleasant
trip down memory lane even if it was awkward with Thomas fifteen feet
away. And how odd is it that Thomas thought I was spanking and fucking
Sonny. I guess it's logical he'd think that though. Sonny is obsequious to
Thomas and he probably assumes Sonny's that way with everyone. And why do I
even care what Thomas thinks? Ha ha, I have an urge to blow Thomas's mind
by correcting the misconception and confuse his image of Sonny. Nah, I
won't do that because Sonny must have his reasons for letting Thomas think
I was the dominant sex partner. I'll leave it like that.

Finished Sonny's haircut; a medium length regular haircut with a part on
the left side and a little pompadour in front; a haircut I've been doing
frequently for guys lately. I hand Sonny the handheld mirror. He looks at
his hair and says, "I look like a fruit," and Thomas mutters, "Fruit... a
word meaning a queer used back it the fifties." Sonny goes, "No, I've heard
it used recently," and Thomas asks, "By whom?" and Sonny laughs and says,
"My uncle, heh heh, and he's in his fifties." Thomas says, "Then he wasn't
even born in the fifties," and I go, "Stop! You two are driving me nuts
with your constant bickering," and I comb out the pompadour, combing
Sonny's bangs to the side. He goes, "Much better."

Thomas gets up and puts his empty beer bottle on the washing machine before
examining Sonny's haircut. He swats up the back of Sonny's head, laughing
and saying, "That's another thing they did in the fifties." Sonny cringes,
his shoulders rounding as he asks, "Since when are you an expert on the
fifties?" Thomas uses both hands messes-up Sonny's hair, saying, "My
grandfather and I talk all the time. I like him better than my parents."
Sonny stands up and takes the comb from my fingers to re-combs his hair as
he goes, "Fuck your grandfather, what do you think of my haircut?" Thomas
says, "I like it," and then to me, "Can you give me the same haircut
without the shampoo?" I shake my head 'no', mumbling, "Sorry. You gotta get
the shampoo first. It's much easier cutting hair that's just been
shampooed." I'm being a prick about it because I don't care for the way he
treats Sonny. He looks at Sonny's hair again and mumbles, "You didn't
finish back here," and he runs his finger across the back of Sonny's
neck. I go, "Whaddaya mean?" He says, "It's not squared off," and I say,
"Yeah, I know. It's tampered for a professional look. For you though I'll
be glad to square it off back there so you'll have the SuperCuts specialty
look."

Thomas probably notices that I'm not gonna take any shit from him. He drops
his eyes, mumbling, "Um, no, I'd like it the way you did Sonny's. Um, if
you don't mind... I was just saying..." He runs out of words saying the
last few lower and lower as I glare at him. I nod my head toward the
bathroom and he sort of meekly walks there. Inside he asks, "Should I take
off my shirt like Sonny did?" I say, "Unless you don't care if the collar
get wet." He takes his shirt off and sits in the chair. He has some hair on
his chest and not a particularly hot body. Too bad.

I do a quick version of the shampoo while looking at him closely. I gotta
admit he's a good-looking young guy but not the kind of good-looks that
especially appeal to me. He has generic good-looks if you know what I
mean. Thomas doesn't say a word during the five-minute shampoo and when I'm
done using the hairdryer. To kind of make-up, I pat his shoulder and in a
nice way, say, "That wasn't so bad, was it, Thomas?" He does a cute smile
and says, "No, I liked it. I wish it took longer actually." I comb his hair
a little and say, "Next time maybe." We walk out of the half-bath as Sonny
is finishing off his beer. He forces a big burp out and then snickers,
asking, "How was it, Thomas?" Thomas goes, "You were right for once,
Sonny. It was a cool experience. Dylan says next time he'll do a longer
version." Sonny gets up, "See? I told you," and then he asks me, "Can I get
another beer, Dylan?" I mumble, "Yeah, get one for all of us, Sonny."

Sonny is back in a flash with three bottles of Miller Lite and during his
haircut Thomas talks with Sonny and it's very much like a barbershop
experience. That happens when I'm cutting someone's hair I don't know. They
talk to the person they do know and not to the barber who they don't
know. After the haircut, Thomas acts like most first-timers, saying,
"Thanks," and then he asks, "Are you sure you don't want, um, some money?"
That's what they usually say. I pat his shoulder, "Nope, I did it as a
favor to Sonny." Like everyone else Thomas doesn't press the money issue,
but instead presses his luck. He goes, "Sweet, um, would it be okay if I
came with Sonny next time?" I chuckle and say, 'You cheap bastard. I don't
even know you!' No, I don't say that. I go, "Sure, no problem."

Sonny is his usual smiling-self, saying, "You're the best ever, Dylan," and
he kissed his middle and index fingers and then pressed his kissed-fingers
to my lips. Thomas mutters, "You're embarrassing yourself, Sonny. Let's
go." I walk upstairs with them and as they stand together at the door, both
holding their motorbike helmets, Sonny puts his arm across Thomas's
shoulder and tells me, "Call me, Dylan, and we'll hang-out," and they go
out the door. Jeez, they both look a lot better with those
haircuts. Identical haircuts, ha ha. Damn nice-looking boys!

Three minutes later I hear their loud motorbikes' mufflers as they pull
away. Funny how I feel kinda odd about that whole episode with Sonny and
Thomas. Nothing really fit together. An odd combination of old-times with
Sonny and then Thomas who seemed unaffected by Sonny's and my gayness and
our sex in the half-bath. Good for him. Sonny said I was the best ever
something or other, but then he definitely was very happy to be with
Thomas. I can't explain what I mean. It was just weird somehow. I sweep up
the hair clippings. I guess I didn't ask for their help because I didn't
want to delay their departure... so that's kinda weird too.

Feeling out of sorts I take the three Miller Lite bottle, mine hardly
touched, upstairs and pour mine in the sink and then put all three bottles
in the recycle bin. Lying on the sofa I ponder, Okay, what's next? Oh yeah,
dinner with Chubby. It's almost six o'clock so, lying here on the sofa, I
call Chub and he tells me he stopped off to get gas and ran into someone he
knew at the gas station. He's on his way home now though. He met someone
huh? I'll bet it was a girl.

Ten minutes later I'm still on the sofa trying to figure out my strange
feelings about the Sonny/Thomas encounter when I hear a clicking of a key
at the front door. Before I can get up, in bounds Chubby. "Hi, Dylan, how
was your day?" and he comes over to hug my shoulders and give me a kiss me
on the top of my head. I feel better now.

Chubby and I are going to have roast stuffed Cornish Hens for dinner. With
the little hens we'll have whipped potatoes and gravy, frozen baby niblet
corn and homemade coleslaw. Together we peel and then get the Yukon Gold
potatoes in a pot of water to cook. I grate cabbage and make homemade
coleslaw dressing while Chub prepares the stuffing for the Cornish Hens
that will go into a roasting pan and then roast in a preheated over at 325
degrees. While we're doing all that, I tell Chub about my first two days at
work. "All I've done so far, Chub, is watch CD tutorials about the
company's new employee benefits which ironically don't apply to me because
I'm temporary summer staff. Late this afternoon I took a test online to
prove I know the difference between the old and the new benefits. I'm the
expert who will explain the changes to the company's three-hundred
employees... one at a time." Chubby says, "Jesus, three-hundred times
saying the same thing."

Mixing sugar, red wine vinegar and mayonnaise to make a dressing for the
coleslaw, I go, "Yeah, employees are super concerned about benefits a
company offers and mostly pays for. It's like part of their salary when you
get right down to it." Chubby frowns, "Holy shit, bro, that sounds like a
gruesome two days. Worse than studying for finals because those
three-hundred people actually care about what you'll be explaining and
you'll need to know what you're talking about. That's a big change from
exams in college where nobody cares about the shit we memorize and then
quickly forgets it after the exam." I go, "Yeah I know, and this is
complicated material consisting of health benefits, co-pays, 401k
retirement plans, vacation and sick leave, which varies depending on how
long the person has been with the company. Some heavy shit." He's like,
"And you learned all that in two days?" I shrug, "Yep, and I got a 96 on
the test."

He's shaking his head, "Damn, that's impressive, Dylan! Seriously
impressive." I mumble, "Well I did have an answer sheet for the test, so
that was a help. Actually, I could have gotten a perfect score if I was
greedy." He's laughing, "An answer sheet?" and I explain the two days of
study and how the test is more a formality fulfilling some legal
requirement. I go, "Yeah, tomorrow my boss will go over the material I'll
actually be explaining to everyone. It's fairly basic. On one side are the
current benefit in each category and on the other side are the alleged
improved benefit. Each employee signs that it's been explained and they
understand the changes. Something to do with the governments Retirement and
Securities Act, or ERISA as it's known by us experts."  Chub laughs, "Oh
yeah, that Act."

Done the food preparation we step outside for a smoke. Holding up a
cigarette, I say, "This will be only the sixth cigarette today," and Chub
goes, "It'll be my sixth or seventh too. Naturally there's no smoking in
the office or outside the building. Us smokers catch a smoke during coffee
break outside the Cumberland Farm convenience store down the block from the
office. Their coffee is 99 cents for any size, and its good coffee
too. That's about half what Dunkin' Donuts charges for a medium coffee." I
ask, "What were you doing the first two days at the insurance agency?" He
shrugs, "I've been in training too. My job will be to fill-in for customer
service representatives when they're on summer vacation. Insurance is
incredibly boring, bro, as I'm sure you know from your tutorials. Nobody
much cares about insurance until they need it."

I exhale what I thought would be a smoke ring but what turned out to be
smoke that drifts up in my eyes, and say, "Isn't it the weirdest thing we
both need to deal with insurance of one kind or another in our summer
jobs?" He nods and exhales three small smoke rings in a row and then
mutters, "Yeah, that is weird, bro. I'll be taking claim reports too, but
mostly filling out requests for changing cars and addresses and adding
drivers to auto policies, and then changing coverages for fire policies
too. Then there's complaints to deal with. You know, insurance companies
are happy to collect premiums but reluctant to pay out claims so people
tend to get pissed-off about that. I have a list of people to refer the
complaining customer to if I can't handle whatever the complaint is. I plan
on doing a lot of referring."

We're having dinner tonight in Chubby's condo which is directly over my
Mom's and my place. Looking out at the alley below the balcony and then
fifty feet on the other side of the alley at another row of condos, I
mutter, "Not much of a view, huh, Chub?" He goes, "Not really although a
couple of years ago, I got on this kick of using the binoculars I got for
Christmas to be a peeping-Tom at those condos over there. There were a few
choice bedroom windows over there. Like there was this woman, maybe in her
thirties, who walked around naked with the sliding glass doors' curtains
open. She'd pose as if she knew, or hoped, someone was watching." I go, "Uh
huh. But, Jesus, that was a little sick of you both, don't ya think?" He
snickers, "Yeah, you could say that. She always held a cocktail glass and I
assumed she was alone and maybe drunkenly inviting company." I'm like, "And
you never ventured over there?" He shakes his head, "Nah. I never had the
nads... and she was hot too!"

An hour later, as we're eating dinner, I ask, "Any cool dudes to hang-out
with on the job, Chub?" He goes, "The guy training me is an okay guy. He
worked as an intern the last two years doing what I'll be doing. He
graduated college and now works there full time. He and I are the ones
having a smoke with our morning coffees. Guy's name is Jay James and he's
seriously a decedent of the outlaw Jesse James." I go, "Get the hell outta
here," and Chub goes, "That's what he claims." I mutter, "I'd keep that to
myself if I were him." Chub chuckles and says, "You mean like you keep it a
secret that you're related to Alfred E. Neuman, right?" I go, "Yeah, we had
to change the spelling of our last name when we found out Alfred E. has jug
ears and was missing a front tooth, and he's the worldwide symbol for
unquestioning stupidity. Ha ha," and we both laugh. Chub goes, "That was
MAD magazine, right? The 'What! Me worry?' guy." I chuckle, "Yeah, he's my
grandfather." I can picture a drawing of Alfred in my head although I've
never actually seen the magazine.

We're still chuckling about the 'unquestioning stupidity' that Alfred
represents as we finish eating. Later Robby knocks on the door and when I
open it we do a quick one-arm hug as he goes, "I checked your condo first
and when I got no answer I knew where you'd be." Chub says, "Yo, 'sup, Rob?
Want a piece of apple pie?" Rob goes, "Sure," and we all have a slice of
pie for dessert and then decide to watch some summer league basketball at
the lighted sports complex in neighboring Natick. This is the league the
posse-boys were involved in two summers ago, so I wonder if Ray's still on
the team he was on back then. The teams are sponsored by local businesses
like the teams in the summer baseball league.

During the drive over I ask Rob, "Are you gonna sign-up for a summer
baseball team this summer?" He goes, "I haven't decided. Danny and Hayden
have already signed-up and they want me to sign-up for the team they're
on. The thing is my schedule at work is fucked. I could be in Westborough
the night of a game and to stay on a team you've gotta show-up for games."
I go, "That's too bad, Rob." He mutters, "I might sign-up anyway and see
how long I can go before missing a game. Nah, come to think about it, that
won't work because there's practice two nights a week. I guess I won't
sign-up after all."

I feel bad for him but he puts the job even ahead of baseball. Amazing!
When we get to the basketball courts I see a pretty good crowd has shown up
to watch the games. That's how it was two summers ago. There's guys from
college basketball teams and high school teams who make up most of the
talent in the league. As we're walking up the bleachers Chub runs into a
girl from high school who he stops to talk with. Rob and I keep going and
get seats at the top of the bleachers. I like these seats because we don't
have anyone behind us, plus the top row has a back rest. Rob asks about my
second day at work and as I'm telling him about the test I see Ray Reeves
warming up with a team sponsored by Kelly's Citco Station. I don't want to
stare at him because that'll bring him to Rob's attention. Damn, I got a
twitch in my nuts seeing Ray. I'm sure it has something to do with Sonny
talking about him this afternoon. It meant very little to me then, but
seeing Ray in person caused that odd sensation in my nuts. Well he was an
awesome fuck, so there's that. Yeah, but then there's his arrogance and
overblown opinion of himself as well. Two years is a long time though so
maybe he's changed.

Chub joins us, saying, "Oh man, I just got a date with that girl, Wanda
Blake. I never wanted to ask her out in high school because she was in with
the cheerleader clique and I assumed she was a stuck-up cunt. And then just
now she was asking me all these questions and reminding me of shit her and
I did in the cafeteria. I don't know but she sure seems hot to
trot. Nothing stuck-up about her now and she looks better than I
remembered. Goddamn, that was unexpected." He pat Rob's back, saying, "Good
idea you had, dude. Coming here tonight I mean."

Ray's team has finished warming-up and the Kelly's Citco Station team
players are circled around Ray, as he tells them... whatever. He's probably
the team captain. I'm too far away to see his face clearly but from here it
looks like he's got that three-day beard 'look' that so many guys have
nowadays, as well as the latest stupid hairstyle; the one Golden was giving
the guys on the Merrimack baseball team. Well, me too until I put my foot
down and refused another one. I glance over at Rob and see the preppy
haircut with the little pompadour that I gave him. Much better!

Two guys are yelling at Rob and he looks over, saying, "Well what the fuck?
Joe Berks and his brother. Haven't seen those guys since graduation," and
he gets up and walks down the bleachers to say 'Hi'. Chub's talking
animatedly to the guys next to him who I've never seen before in my life
and I'll bet Chub never has either. The basketball game has begun and right
away I see Ray casually drop in a three-point jump-shot from outside the
key... nothing but net! He moves so smoothly and from what I can see it
looks like he's aging pretty well. He's mature looking and from here it
appears he's getting better-looking the older he gets. That happens for
some lucky guys.

Huh, standing near the court are a guy and a girl who both clapped
exuberantly when Ray sank that three-pointer and I'll bet anything that's
his boyfriend and girlfriend, the ones Sonny told me about. The girl looks
okay from here but the guy looks a tad on the pudgy side and of course he
has the same dumb-ass haircut Ray has. What do I care though? He could be a
fat slob with a mohawk for all I care. I'm smelling the back of my wrist
trying not to stares at Ray, but my eyes are sort of fixed on him. He
always was good at basketball and he's even better now. These basketball
games are played under college rules meaning twenty-minute halves with the
same distance for three-point shots. There's two referees so it's a lot
more serious than pick-up games at the high school. It's obvious that Ray's
team is way better than the team they're playing against.

Rob comes back, asking, "Isn't that Ray Reeves on the team with the blue
and gold uniforms?" I'm like, "Who? Um, oh yeah, I see who you mean. Yes, I
believe that's him." Rob pokes my ribs, "You didn't notice him? Ha! You and
him were into each other that one fucked-up summer. He was a concern for me
back when you and him were thick as thieves." I'm grumpy, "We weren't ever
thick as anything, and anyway you and I don't talk about shit like that."
He shrugs, "When it's over we can talk about it." I go, 'Since when? Did
you just make that rule up?" He's like, "Jesus! Forget I mentioned it!" I
mumble, "Sorry for jumping down your throat, Rob. Yeah, he was sort of my
side-distraction after Ryan moved out of state." He pats my shoulder, "No
problem, babe. Hey, have you heard from Wilcox?" Shaking my head, "Nope,
and I don't expect to. He kinda went nuts there at the end." Rob goes,
"Really?" and I mumble, "Yeah, I seriously think he needs professional help
as in half-a-dozen psychiatrists working with him around the clock." Rob
chuckles, "He wasn't that bad." I mutter, "You don't know. He could act
okay at times, but he wasn't okay. Trust me."

When Ray's team wins 69 to 43, Rob says, "Ray's good. I gotta give it to
him. Hey, do you want something to drink?" Chub says, "Lets flip to see who
goes for the drinks," and I say, "Nah, that's alright, I'll get the sodas,"
and Chub goes, "Then I'm buying," and he gives me a five-dollar
bill. Rather than argue about it, I mumble, 'Thanks, Chub," noticing that
Rob has no problem with Chub buying. Rob's waving at another guy,
undoubtedly another high school baseball player. He mutters, "Thanks,
Jeff," and then he tells us, "I'll be right back. Just gonna say 'hi' to
somebody." It's like home-coming week for Rob. I make my way down the
bleachers as two more teams begin warming up on the basketball court. Rob
knows a lot of guys from high school but mostly from being a star on the
baseball team. Sometimes I wish I had joined a team so I'd know lots of
guys too. The wrestling coach was always trying to recruit me in high
school because of my light weight. He needed a boy for the 113-pound
weight-class and he was always kidding me about my biceps. I've always had
good definition in my biceps even though I was skinny in high school,
especially ninth grade.

The snack shack sells hotdogs and cold cans of Coke mostly, but there's
soft pretzels, big chocolate chip cookies and potato chips too. That's
about it. I'm planning on buying three Cokes and three soft pretzels which
cost more than five-dollars but I don't care. I'm standing in line behind
some big oaf who's talking to a girl and not paying attention to the
line. It's annoying the way he lets like five-feet get between him and the
guy in front of him. I do a fake cough hoping to get him to notice and then
someone grabs my arm, "Dylan!" I know it's Ray's voice immediately so I try
being cool when turning around. I don't get a chance to be blasé
though as he does a one-arm hug rubbing the side of his sweaty face against
mine and then he gives my cheek a sloppy kiss and then pulls me out of
line. "How ya been, Dylan? Damn, you're looking good, dude!"

He's totally dripping with sweat from the game and, as I'm wiping his wet
kiss off my cheek, I mumble, "Um, oh, hi, Ray. You're the one looking
good," and he does too. He's never looked this good before. He's
handsome. I add, "Um, I mean on the courts. Your game is really looking
good." He grins pulling my hand away from my face, saying, "Hey, you didn't
use to wipe my kisses off. There's no reason I can't give my ex-boyfriend a
kiss. Especially considering how close we were." Jesus Christ, he says that
loudly right here in front of everybody! He's never given a shit about
things like that though. I go, "Oh, no, of course not," and,
misunderstanding, I awkwardly lean in to him and Ray laughs, "I already
gave you the kiss, honey. What, you want another one?"

He has me completely discombobulated. I go, "Ha ha, I thought you meant.."
and he cups the back of my neck shaking my head a little, grinning and
saying, "Same old tongue-tied, Dylan. God, I've missed you!" I'm glad
somebody does. Ryan doesn't and Sonny ran off after Thomas's haircut
without even asking me to join them; not that I would have. Getting my shit
together, I go, "I've never been tongue-tied in my life, Ray. You startled
me, that's all. How ya been?" He rubs the palm of his hand down my cheek,
saying, "I got my sweat all over your pretty face. Sorry 'bout that. I've
been excellent, Dylan. Thanks for asking. How about you. How you doing?" I
nod, "Good, Ray," and he just stares at me so it's awkward, forcing me to
mutter, "Um, I'm here with my brother and Rob Dickers watching a little
b-ball." He says, "Ha ha, I assumed that's why you're here. Damn, it's good
to see you though. Sonny told me you were home from college," and he takes
my arm and pulls me further away from the line, "C'mon over here with me,
baby. It's been too long."

I try to shrug his arm off me, but he's too strong. He's grinning, saying,
"We don't want to hold these people up getting their popcorn or whatever,
do we?" I try to say something but it gets stuck in my throat and I glue as
Ray chuckles. "You can get it out, Dylan. You don't need to me nervous
around me."  I go, "Nervous? Don't be fucking stupid! Some saliva went down
my windpipe." He gets my jaw between his thumb and forefinger, saying, "You
get cuter every fucking year." Pushing his hand away makes him grin as I
ask, "Ya going to college?" He nods, "Sort of. I'm going to community
college." Finally feeling a little more stable, I'm like, "Huh. How is
community college?" He puts his arm around the back of my waist holding me
against his side, saying, "Oh man, I forgot how hot your body is," and he
squeezes me as a couple of guys smoking cigarettes gawk at us and then one
of them says something with his hand over his mouth. Ray's as oblivious to
things like that and he always has been, saying, "College is okay I
guess. Hey, I'm having a cookout Friday night at my parent's house and
you're invited. Bring Dickers if you want. You'll get to see the old posse
boys and meet my two significant others. I know you'll like my boyfriend,
but don't steal him from me, okay?" and he laughs.

Someone, maybe one of his significant others, calls him and Ray waves,
saying, "I'll be there in a second." Then to me, "I hope I see you Friday
night, Dylan," and he cups the back of my neck pulling my head over and
kissing me on the lips. Letting go of me, he says, "You still taste
sweet. Great seeing you, Dylan," and he turns to join the guy I saw
cheering for him. Ray doesn't introduce him though; he just puts his arm
across the pudgy guy's shoulder and talks to him as they walk
away. Watching them I realize, Jesus, I've got a slight boner in my
pants. Well that's kind of understandable I guess, I mean considering Ray's
and my summer that time. Oh shit, he's even sexier than I remembered.

Balls, now I need to get in the back of the line. Ray seemed different,
while being the same. That doesn't make sense except it's true. He has the
same over-confident demeanor but seemed more mature and less goofy. It
seems like he's got his shit together finally, but he can still get me
acting the fool. I squirm a little thinking of the casual dominance he just
exhibited over me in our brief two minutes together. Will I ever feel as
sure of myself as he is... ever? Probably not, but I need to remember what
a ginormous asshole and prick he was to me two summers ago. Yeah, but
people change. Hell, I know that from myself as I've recently adjusted some
viewpoints from ones I swore to in my younger years.

Finally at the food stand I buy three Cokes but they're sold out of soft
pretzels. Carrying the sodas back up to the top bleacher and then passing
one to Chub, I tell Rob, "I ran into Ray at the stand. He invited us to a
cookout he's having Friday night." Robby shrugs, "A cookout at Ray's place?
That doesn't ring any bells with me. You don't want to go, do you?" I shake
my head, "Absolutely not." Rob passes me a cigarette as I say, "The only
reason I'd consider going is to see my boys from that summer. They were
some pretty cool guys. You remember, right? You played in some of the
baseball games with all of us. You were the star in those games as I
recall." He chuckles, "Yeah, I was a star, wasn't I? Heh heh, I was the
only one who played in organized baseball though. But yeah, they were some
good games and good guys. I'll go if you want to. Either way, babe." I
shrug, "I don't know. We'll see if we get a better offer for Friday night."
Fucking Ray Reeves, he's something alright, but what?

We watch the second game and then leave around ten o'clock. Chub's driving
and it'd be awkward if Rob came up with me to the condo so as we approach
the condos Rob says, "I guess this is it for the night, huh?" and I nod as
we slap hands and mutter, "See you tomorrow." No sex tonight. Well I'm okay
with that considering Sonny and I had that double-header earlier. Jeez,
Sonny was hot too! He'll be at the cookout... hmmm. Chub parks the Jeep at
the curb below our condos next to Rob's pickup. We all get out and Rob and
I do a quick hug and Chub bumps fist with him. Rob fires up the truck and
with a wave takes off.

As Chub and I are going up the steps, he says, "Well, bro, work tomorrow so
I'm gonna hit the sack." I mumble, "Me too, Chub," and we do a quick hug
outside my place and then I go in. While doing my routine in the bathroom I
think of Ray again. I need to admit that tonight he was very sexy and, um,
more normal than before. I was the one who acted like an ass. Guess I was
intrigued and flattered at the enthusiastic attention Ray gave me. Then I
again force myself to remember the old Ray. He's still in there somewhere
along with the new. He's like Willie in that they both keep reinventing
themselves searching for who they want to be.

Lying in bed I get another boner thinking about the dominant way Ray fuck
me that summer. And how, omigod, did he ever have me eating out of his hand
for a couple of months there and I blame that on my weakness and
submissiveness from missing Ryan who provided me with sub/dom sex for so
long. But my infatuation for Ray did wear-off completely by the end of the
summer, so there's that. It was before the end of the summer actually. I
was losing my infatuation with him weeks before we dumped each other. He
claims he dumped me but only because he beat me to it by mere seconds. If
I'd spoken first I would have dumped him. As usual though I deferred to Ray
and he got to be the 'dumper'. I never thought I'd ever be interested in
him again. Well hell, I'm not interested in him again. Just saying...

And then again Wednesday morning Ray pops into my mind yet again and I'm
trying to remember if maybe I dreamed about him. I don't believe I
did. It's hard to remember dreams unless you're awakened in the middle of
one. During my shower I shave around my groin, rinse the razor and then
shave my face still hoping to speed up some beard growth. Ray looked cool
with his light beard. It was kinda bristly when he rubbed his cheek against
mine. I think that's what caused my boner. Damn it though, I'd really like
to know if he's changed for the better. It's been two years but, dammit, he
got my juices flowing near the snack shack. He smelled good to when he
hugged and kissed me. His sweat even smelled good. Okay, I admit I thought
he was sexy hot but he already has both a boyfriend and a girlfriend. The
same ones, according to Sonny, for like eighteen months. That's some kinda
longevity for gays; hell, for straight guys too. I'm definitely not going
to that cookout though and what are the odds of another chance-meetings
with him this summer? Very limited so it's for the best that I leave it at
that.

Ha, I know he'd drop the hefty boyfriend for me in two fucking seconds, but
I'm not interested. The pudgy lad was short too. Oh, screw that! Hmmm, I
feel like having scrambled eggs so that's what I make for breakfast. I'm
now starting to give some thought to the wise-ass tough cutie on the
bus. Sitting next to him this morning I'll use our encounter yesterday
morning as the reason I wanna talk to him. I'll pretend I'm interested in
how he knew I was bull-shitting when asking if he was so-and-so's
brother. I don't even remember what name I used. Yeah, forget Ray and
concentrate on the cute bus-boy...

to be continued...

Donny Mumford    thinat20@yahoo.com    donnymumforf@outlook.com

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

Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published
and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for
next to nothing. The books are usually around ten dollars. They are about a
19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And
there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them
out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the
books can be found in some detail there. Thank you. 

Donny Mumford

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

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