Date: Sun, 30 Dec 2018 17:39:12 +0000 (UTC)
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter  25

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter  25

by  Donny Mumford


Sonny, his young friend Squirrel, and I have just finished having lunch at
a Subway restaurant in the wealthy town of Wellesley. It was my first time
ever eating there, or at any Wellesley restaurant for that
matter. 'Squirrel' is the kid's nickname, by the way. Duh, no shit!  Yeah,
he told me his real name but I don't remember it. I said he's 'young'
although I don't actually know his age. He looks about sixteen.

Anyway, outside the restaurant Squirrel hops on his motorcycle ready to
take off for his house. Sonny's plan is for Squirrel to make a quick trip
home, sneak his mom's professional barber scissors out of the house, and
then bring the scissors to Sonny's house where I'm supposed to give both of
them haircuts using the scissors only. I'm done rolling my eyes at that
plan. What the hell, I did a haircut for Pony with scissors only and I've
nothing better to do this afternoon.

Squirrel does a wheelie as he takes off, Sonny grinning at him and flashing
him the middle finger. Sonny turns to me and goes, "Can I bum a smoke off
of you, Dylan?" After giving him one of my Marlboro Lights, I take one
myself and then hold my Bic lighter to Sonny's cigarette, asking him, "What
the hell are you guys doing in Wellesley?" Sonny's a Framingham boy like me
and this town is one of the more expensive ones in Massachusetts. He
exhales smoke and then mutters, "Squirrel lives here." Oh.

I've known Sonny for three years now but somehow it feels like I've known
him a lot longer. We met that summer I spent a lot of time with Ray Reeves'
posse boys and since then every time Sonny and I run into each other he
asks for a haircut. And then after the haircut, we fuck. Yep, that's what
we do.

I guess you could say we have a unique relationship. Sonny's almost two
years younger than me and often acts usually deferential to me. You know,
he kinda looks up to me but then when we have sex it's like we reverse
roles and he becomes the dominant 'top' to my submissive 'bottom'. It's not
something we've ever discussed, it just happened that way the first time we
did it together and we've continued like that ever since. And why wouldn't
we? I mean, it works for both of us.

It's sub/dom sex without Sonny or I ever calling it that. For Sonny, being
the dominant 'top' is most likely the way he first had gay sex. I'm
guessing he doesn't have sex often enough to try doing it differently. And
I suppose his idea of how to do sex was modeled after his idol, Ray... so I
need say no more. Well, there's more nuance to Sonny's and my relationship,
our friendship, than that blunt assessment of it, but that's what it boils
down to as far as our buddy sex goes.

So yeah it was three summers ago that Sonny and I first met and was he ever
a precocious youngster! One who could often be annoying, although in kind
of a hot shit manner too. Specifically, we met going to a summer league
basketball game in a car that had seating for five. I was already in the
car with four other boys so Sonny, being the youngest, had to sit on
someone's lap. Ray was the driver and our leader so he told Sonny to sit on
my lap because I was the 'rookie' posse boy. That was my position in his
posse according to Ray. According to me, I wasn't any kind of posse boy,
but that's neither here nor there now.

Ray was, and still is a dominantly bossy motherfucker and back then I fell
under his spell. He eventually decided I was his boyfriend even though he
knew very well I was Rob's boyfriend. Ray told me not to worry about that
because he too had boyfriends on the side inferring incorrectly that Rob
was now my boyfriend on the side. Being Ray's boyfriend lasted five or six
weeks before I came to my senses and was about to dump him. Ray saw the
writing on the wall and actually dumped me literally one minute before I
had the chance to dump him. I know, it's all childish horseshit but that's
how it was back then.

Christ, even nowadays on the rare occasions I run into Ray there's still
the allure of that seductive dominant manner he displays during sex. Um,
actually he displays a dominant personality whether he's having sex or
tying his sneakers. In other words, he's always that way! And as unpleasant
as Ray is, sex with him as the dominant 'top' was some of the hottest sex
I've ever had in my life. I suppose he does have some good points too, like
leadership ability and loyalty to his posse boys, but his bad points
overwhelm anything positive... he's always been an obnoxious bully,
basically.

Getting to the point of all this: Ray is bisexual and was very open about
it back then and so young and cute Sonny emulated Ray claiming he was 'bi'
too. That's how Sonny got into gay sex in the first place; he wanted to be
like Ray. Plus, he believed all Ray's bragging bullshit about how he, Ray,
handles his boyfriends during sex, which is him, Ray, acting the 'male'
part during sex and his boyfriends being the 'female'. Sonny's still
working with that template.

So, heh heh, that night three summers ago Sonny was subtly provocative
sitting on my lap to the extent I had a raging boner in my pants when we
arrived at the basketball courts. He was a smirking brat about it too which
annoyed and embarrassed me although in hindsight I admit it was pretty cool
of him.

That seems a long time ago to me now. Surprisingly Sonny's retained a lot
of the youthful cute 'looks' he had back then to this day. Well, after
saying that I am noticing signs that an older version of him is beginning
to take hold. Much like I've recently noticed the same thing about
Pony. Yeah, Sonny's youthful appearance has finally begun fading somewhat
and it's more noticeable this afternoon than it was just four or five
months ago, which was the last time I saw him. There's nothing especially
shocking about any of that as everyone I know is looking older, even Robby
although he's handsome and still has some boyish cuteness in his smile.

Yeah, guys I used to think were kinda cute have lost 'it' to their older
more mature 'looks'. Hell, some of the guys are even older looking than
they actually are! Looking older happens to everyone obviously, but it
happens earlier for some unfortunates than others. There are also a rare
few exceptions where guys look younger than they are. Danny's an example of
that and so is my brother, and, well... me too. A couple of other guys as
well, but almost everyone around my advanced age of twenty-two has lost any
youthful cuteness they ever possessed. That's from my point of view while
someone in their thirties or forties probably thinks we all look young.

Yeah, I'm aware that there are probably very few guys, gay or straight who
spend any time thinking about shit like how old they look, but so what?
We're all different and who knows what everyone's secret innermost thoughts
are anyway? Perhaps people would be horrified if what's in their head was
known by others. It'd be cool to know though! Or perhaps most people have a
pure mind with only society's appropriate thoughts... and perhaps the moon
really is made out of blue cheese.

After Squirrel takes off Sonny doesn't have a lot to say as we're standing
here smoking outside the Subway restaurant. We need to finish our
cigarettes before starting on our way because we don't want to smoke and
drive. Rob would have a bird if I smoked in the pickup and Sonny needs both
hands riding his motorcycle. The silence is awkward for me though, so for
something to say I'm like, "It's cool you won't get a haircut from anyone
but me, Sonny. Still, I gotta wonder though... why the fuck is that? I mean
why do you wait for a random time we'll meet before getting that orange/red
head of hair of yours barbered?" Running his fingers through his hair he
glances over at me and then, with smoke drifting out of his mouth he
chuckles before muttering, "Mostly because I get to fuck you after the
haircut... heh heh," and in a more serious tone, he adds, "No, it's really
because I like you so much and, let's face it, you'd never hang out with me
otherwise; just when you give me a haircut."

Jeez! I'm like, "But what would we do if we hung out together? I don't have
a motorcycle." I don't know, I was caught off guard he'd say something
flattering right out like that about wanting to hang out with me... so my
reply was probably a tad rude. He goes, "Oh, I never expect you'd want to
hang out with me. I know I'm too young and uninteresting, plus you've got
tons of friends. That's cool though, no problem."

Fuck, I don't know what to say except I want to sort of return that
disjointed compliment, so I go, "Well, Sonny, I can honestly say that not
many guys I know are as cool as you are, dude." He smirks, mumbling
sarcastically, "Yeah, I'm so sure..." and then, flicking his cigarette butt
all the way across to the other side of the street, just missing a kid
riding by on his bicycle, Sonny mutter, "Oh, fuck, I missed him." Was he
trying to hit the kid? Sonny puts his helmet on and asks, "Is it okay if we
take off now?" I nod and step on my cigarette butt and, as he gets on his
motorcycle, he's like, "You're gonna follow me, right, Dylan?" I mumble,
"That's the plan." I get in the pickup truck that's parked right next to
Sonny's motorcycle and off we go.

We drive a half mile down Route 135 through the center of Wellesley and
then get on a connector for Route 9 West heading for Framingham. I follow
him all the way to his house. Sonny lives in a modest five-room Cape Cod
style house near the Natick/Framingham border about five miles from my
condo.

Parking behind his motorcycle in the driveway I get out of the pickup as
Sonny's walking over to me. He's smiling as he pats my back, saying, "Wow,
Dylan, you actually did follow me home. I half expected you'd ditch me
before we got here." Frowning, I mumble, "Fuck, why would I ditch you?" He
shrugs, "I don't know, other guys would have. Most of the other posse boys
probably would have. C'mon," and we walk to the front door. He unlocks the
door and I follow him inside where he takes off his helmet and drops it on
an overstuffed wing chair as we're going through the living room to the
kitchen.

Houses like Sonny's normally consist of a large family/living room combo
and a large eat-in kitchen on the first floor, and then three bedrooms and
a bath upstairs. Sonny asks, "Ya want a beer?" I shake my head, mumbling,
"No thanks, I'm good," and point at his head, saying, "We're gonna need to
wet your hair to get rid of that impression in your hair made by your
helmet. There's a line all around your head." He goes, "Oh, aren't you
gonna shampoo my hair like you always do?" I go, "Really, you want me to do
that?" He does a cute grin, whining, "Pleassssse," so I shrug, muttering,
"Yeah, okay I guess. Um, where would we do it?" He says, "In the
bathroom... where else?" Hmmm, have I ever seen Pony and Sonny at the same
place at the same time? Haha, just saying that Sonny's reenacting Pony's
routine with the shampooing/haircut routine.

As far as Sonny asking where else would we do the shampoo except his
bathroom, I've never been inside this house before so I thought maybe there
was a finished basement with a half bath down there, like my condo. Sonny
goes, "Ya know, I wanna thank you for doing this for me. I appreciate it,
Dylan. You've always been the nicest guy in Ray's posse... much nicer than
any of the other posse boys and the best looking dude in the whole fucking
world." I sarcastically mumble, "Yeah, you're right about that for sure,"
and I make a 'face' at him like... really? Then I open my mouth again but
close it right away. I was going to argue that I've never actually been a
posse boy like he just implied, but why bother?

Instead, I go, "I'm happy to do the haircut for you 'cause, you and me,
we're buddies, dude," and I hug his shoulders. Sonny's not the affectionate
type though and he shrugs his shoulders away from my arm, muttering, "Yeah,
okay..." and opens the refrigerator to take out a can of lime-flavored
tonic water. Ugh! Ya gotta be kidding!

He gulps down some tonic and then goes, "You always call bullshit on me
when I suggest this, but you and Ray were like the perfect boyfriend
couple. You complimented each other perfectly. Your awesome good looks and
Ray with his macho ways. It gave me a boner seeing the way Ray and you
interacted. I always admired the subtle manner you had of showing Ray that
he was your, you know, um, your 'man'. And not only during the sex you guys
had that, by the way, Ray told all us guys about when you weren't
around... hahaha." I mumble, "One more example of what a ginormous asshole
he is."

Sonny goes, "Ah, you don't mean that! It was cool! He was kinda proud and
bragging about the two of you guys." I give him a frowning look and he
goes, "Anyway, you made it obvious Ray was your man. Yeah, all us guys
noticed how you sucked up around him and I mean even when he wasn't fucking
you. And he treated you like his favorite girlfriend or... well, you know
what I mean; his boyfriend who he fucked like his girlfriend. Oh, that
sounds like, never mind. You know what I mean." I go, "No I don't!" and
he's like, "Yeah, ya do. Anyway, I'd listen to every word Ray said and get
the hardest boners of my life!!" Still frowning, I mutter, "Jesus!" and he
goes, "No, it was cool the way Ray would tell us guys about fucking you,
Dylan. All the guys would listen and you couldn't hear a pin drop!" That's
so, um... disturbing!

Sonny thinks he's telling me cool stuff I'm enjoying hearing about from the
'old days'. From his perspective I guess but it's all wrong! Oh man! He
drinks more tonic water and then excitedly says, "Oh fuck! Back then I'd
fantasized like crazy about having a boyfriend who acted to me like you did
to Ray." I think I'm going to throw up!

Nah, like I said, Sonny's just being naively sincere about how he perceived
things back then. Let him have his fantasies. I mumble. "There was a weird
set of circumstances in play that summer... for me I mean." Oh hell, I'm
not going to try explaining it to Sonny though. Explaining how I was on the
rebound after being sort of dumped by my super-dominant side sex buddy,
Ryan. Sonny doesn't want to hear that anyway. The 'facts' would dilute his
misinterpretation of reality.

Sonny shrugs again and then smiles, sayings, "I don't know anything about
weird circumstances but I'll tell you a secret. One that Ray would be
pissed off if he knew I told you. It's this: he still talks about you
whenever I see him. I know he'd take you back in a second if you asked him
nicely, I just know he would. Oh sure, you know, first you'd need to suck
up to him a little but you know that's just 'cause Ray would want to save
face taking you back. That's all that would be. He'd be forgiving though
'cause he still has a 'thing' for you. Plus, he doesn't care about you and
Dickers! Christ, Ray still has boyfriends on the side himself... and a
fucking girlfriend he's kind of hot for too. In no time you could be back
as his number one girlfr..., um, boyfriend!"

I suppose in a way it's kind of cute of Sonny to imagine his two, um, idols
being boyfriends again but it's also totally naive and, um, pathetically
stupid of him at the same time. I'm recalling now that Sonny wasn't on too
many 'dean's lists' struggling through high school. That being said, I'm
taking a page out of Danny's book; the one where he simply ignores anything
he doesn't want to hear. I totally ignore all that horseshit from Sonny and
instead ask, "Do you want to do the shampoo now while we're waiting for
Squirrel?" Finishing the can of tonic, Sonny shakes his head
vigorously. After swallowing, he goes, "No way! I'm hoping you'll get
Squirrel's haircut done as quickly as possible so we can send him on his
way. Then you can do my shampoo and haircut ultra slowly, right? Fuck, I've
been waiting over four months for this." Omigod, he does sound just like
Pony...

I can't help grinning at him though because it's so dumb but in a way, it's
oddly flattering too. Looking around, I'm like, "I'll do the best I can
but, um, where are we gonna do the haircuts?" He suggests we do the hair
cutting in the basement, which is what I was thinking a few minutes ago, so
I'm like, "Okay." We're going down the basement stairs with me asking,
"Where is everyone? Here at home, I mean." He goes, "At work. Well, mom and
dad are at work and Devon's at college." His parents work weekends?

Oh, wait! This isn't a finished basement. It's a normal cement floor and
cinder block walls basement and it's also wicked musty smelling down
here. Sonny looks over at me making a 'face', mumbling, "Smells down here,
don't it?" I nod my head thinking, 'No way I'm doing anything down here',
and he mutters, "Yeah, we get water in the basement when it rains hard."  I
go, "Um, could we do the haircuts in your bedroom, do ya think?" He looks
around and goes, "Fuck yeah, I guess that's a better idea," and we go back
up to the kitchen.

As soon as we're in the kitchen the doorbell rings and Sonny's like,
"That'll be Squirrel," and he goes through the living room to let the kid
in. The kitchen smells like, what? Fried onions... maybe.

>From the living room, Sonny yells, "Dylan, c'mon upstairs," and those two
start going upstairs so I walk through the kitchen and go up the stairs
that are off the living room. We walk into a disaster area that's
apparently Sonny's bedroom. There are clothes, motorcycle magazines, and
other shit all over the floor... all over everything. Haha, I see why he
suggested doing the haircuts in the basement. He goes, "Yep, my bedroom is
a better idea than the kitchen, Dylan." Really?

Sonny's holding the old barber scissors Squirrel brought from home in one
hand while he's throwing clothes off a desk chair with the other hand. When
the chair is clear of clothes, he asks Squirrel, "What kind of haircut do
you want?" The kid says, "Well, what I actually want is a really short buzz
but since we don't have clippers I guess I'll get a haircut with
short-sides and longer hair on top... but not as long as it is now." Sonny
nods, "Yeah, Dylan can do that with scissors and a comb." Again they're
conversing as if I'm not here. Gesturing toward the desk chair, Sonny goes,
"Take your shirt of, Squirrel, and sit the fuck down there."

I'm leaning against the doorjamb rolling my eyes as Sonny grins at me, nods
his head at shirtless Squirrel in the desk chair, and says, 'He's all
yours, bro," and then he hands me the scissors. I mutter a sarcastic, "Oh
goodie," and glance at the scissors. They look very old but they're
professional barber scissors and appear to have been sharpened
recently. They look lethal actually. You could cut a guy's ear off with
these things, so I ask, "Who sharpened these scissors?" and Squirrel
mumbles, "My Granddad, why?" Stepping over a pile of dirty clothes to get
to the desk chair, I go, "They look wicked sharp, that's all. Okay, so what
kind of haircut did you say you wanted?" Sonny goes, "He wants it short all
around but longer on top," and then adds, "Yo, Dylan, heads up!" and he
tosses me a comb.

After catching the comb I use it to comb through Squirrel's silky hair,
saying, "Squirrel, could you tell me what you mean by 'short'?" I'm combing
up a batch of his hair from the top of his head that's about five inches
long when stretched out. Squirrel holds his thumb and index finger about an
eighth of an inch apart, saying, "Like this, right, Sonny?" Without looking
at Squirrel, Sonny goes, "Whatever you say, buddy."  When I take the comb
away, Squirrel's hair sinks back to its normal sort of kinky state and now
appears only about three inches long... huh. I say to Squirrel, "What you
indicated with your fingers will be a very short haircut, one that would be
easy to do with clippers. With just a comb and these scissors, um, not so
easy." He has no response to that so I mumble, "I'll come as close as I can
to that length you showed me." Squirrel looks over at Sonny again and Sonny
chuckles and asks, "Why are you looking at me, Squirrel?"

Before I start, I ask Squirrel, "So, any other instructions?" He shakes his
head as Sonny hops onto his unmade bed, saying, "Oh, and he's gotta leave
in like fifteen minutes, right Squirrel?" Squirrel nods his head, mumbling,
"Uh huh, or sooner." Sonny flops over on his stomach, saying, "So, Dylan,
ya know, kinda speed it up if you can..." and Squirrel says, to Sonny
apparently, "Are you sure I should I be letting him do this?" I look over
at Sonny and we grin at each other as I'm combing up through Squirrel's
hair again, mumbling, "Um, Squirrel, are you under the impression you're
doing me a favor? I mean, which one of us is doing who the favor?"

He looks even skinnier with his shirt off, the shirt he's holding it in his
lap. His smooth youthful tight skin is a pretty shade of light brown and
his skinny shoulders are rounded as he sits here sort of hunched over. He
doesn't respond to my 'who is doing who a favor' question. Instead, he
looks over at Sonny again with Sonny chuckling again. I look at Sonny too
and with a big grin on his face, he goes, "Squirrel's shy with people he
don't know, Dylan. He's aware you're doing him the favor."

Thinking back to how funny Squirrel was when he did that old Negro/slave
routine. An extemporaneously and very clever routine at the restaurant I'm
surprised to hear he's shy, but I guess he did that for Sonny's
amusement. I pat Squirrel's shoulder, saying, "Sorry if I sounded like a
dick there, Squirrel, with my 'favor' question. Here we go," and, with the
comb against the skin at his neck's hairline I move it up into his hair and
cut across the comb with the scissors making that 'scrunch' sound cutting
through Squirrel's dry hair.

His last haircut must have been two months ago, or longer than that, but I
think it was exactly like the haircut he wants me to do now because the
hair on the sides and back of his head are all the same length and half as
long as the hair on top. Whatever, it's going to be a challenge finishing
this type of haircut in fifteen minutes with just scissors... it would take
about three minutes with clippers.

As I'm doing my best cutting his hair evenly up the back, Sonny's phone
rings. He answers enthusiastically as he's hopping off the bed to walk
around the room talking and laughing with someone named Ricketts. It's
kinda annoying and I finally give him a stare of disapproval. Smiling, he
shoots me with his index finger and then wanders out into the hall and then
downstairs. When Sonny walks out of the room Squirrel's body stiffens as
his head snaps around watching Sonny leave. I almost cut his ear off and
quietly say, "Please, Squirrel, do not jerk your head like that. I almost
cut you." He mutters something so quietly I can't make it out.

With just the two of us here it's a little odd, especially since neither of
us is talking. Well, what the hell, I hardly ever talk while cutting
hair... and Squirrel sure as shit isn't saying anything. All we hear is the
scrunch, scrunch, scrunch of the scissors cutting through his dry
hair. Clippers are a lot more fun to work with but whaddya gonna do? Well,
what I'm gonna do is concentrate using the comb as a guide to cut his hair
just as evenly as clippers would. The comb is serving as the guide for how
long, or short, his hair is being cut. Coincidentally the thickness of the
comb is pretty close to the eighth of an inch that Squirrel held his
fingers apart.

Fine and silky dark cut hairs slide off the tight youthfully smooth tan
skin of Squirrel's shoulders, gravity continuing to take them down his back
in a steady flow to the floor without a peep out of Squirrel, plus he
doesn't move a muscle either. He's like a statue and he smells like the
outdoors too. I can't describe what that exactly smells like... but it's
very pleasant.

My thumb does most of the work closing the scissors a couple of hundred
times before I finish cutting all the hair on the back of his head. The
long hair on either side of his head looks clown-funny now that it's next
to the eighth-inch hair left on the back. When I step away from him, giving
my thumb a rest, Squirrel finally says something. He asks, "How's it look?"
I pat his slim shoulder, saying, "It looks like I used clippers," and he
goes, "Is that good or bad?" Haha! I don't laugh though. I say, "It's a
good thing, Squirrel. It looks perfect... we're in great shape!" I ask,
"Why are you concerned I finish in fifteen minutes?" He quietly mumbles,
"I've gotta go to a birthday party for my Grandmother in an hour and all my
fucking cousins will be there ragging on me if my hair looks fucked up." I
go, "It's not fucked up!"

They're the last words he speaks until I'm done cutting the hair on both
sides of his head. It's already been fifteen minutes by the time I finish
with that and I haven't done anything with the hair on top yet. Sonny's
comes in the bedroom, saying, "Look what I found." I go, "That's a beard
trimmer," and he goes, "Yep, can you use it?" I go, "Maybe, um, who does
that belong to?" He goes, "It's my old man's," and he asks me again, "Will
it help?" I shrug, "I don't know. I've never used one of those things
before. It looks too little. Um, the head's way too small to be used as
barber clippers but maybe it'll be the perfect thing to use for edging
around Squirrel's ears. I was gonna ask for a safety razor to see if I
could make that work but that thing should work better."

The beard trimmer works pretty damn good outlining around Squirrel's ears
and thereby making the haircut look professionally 'finished'. Ah ha, now
Squirrel doesn't need to concern himself about being taunted by his fucking
cousins!

Standing back, I'm like, "Do you have a mirror, Sonny? Let Squirrel get a
look at his haircut." As Sonny's getting a handheld mirror from his
parent's room, Squirrel turns his head and asks me, "Does it look okay?" I
smile, "No! It looks much better than just okay!" and he does that cute
smile I saw him make in the Subway shop.

The mirror Sonny comes back with looks like his mother's. Squirrel takes it
and looks at himself and then grins again, saying, "Pretty good, Sonny!" As
if Sonny did the haircut for him. Sonny goes, 'Yep, but I'm not
surprised. Dylan's awesome!" Looking at me with his big hot-shit smile,
Sonny goes, "Aren't you awesome, Dylan?" I go, "Of course," and Squirrel
says, "I gotta get going but, um, how about the top, Sonny?" Haha, he
avoids speaking to me directly whenever possible... and I'm the fucking
barber!

Sonny runs his fingers through the hair on top of Squirrel's head, saying,
"It looks perfect like this." He said that because he wants Squirrel to get
outta here. Squirrel goes, "Don't ya think it'd be better if the hair on
top was shorter?" I'm rolling my eyes again as Sonny asks me, while
twirling his hand like let's speed this up, "What do you think, Dylan." I'm
like, "Whatever he wants. How would I know what he thinks looks good?
Everybody has a different opinion about that. Jesus, look around... look at
the fucked-up haircuts you see on guys all over the place. A lot of major
league baseball players have some of the worst haircuts I've ever seen in
my life." Sonny mumbles, "Oh, yeah? Well, I don't watch a lot of baseball
on TV and the fucking Red Sox got swept in the playoffs." As if that has
anything to do with anything.

Squirrel finally goes, "Sonny! I need to leave! Do you think he'll do
something with my hair pretty soon?" I snort out a laugh and Squirrel turns
his head frowning hard at me. Omigod, this is so weird! Sonny's going
through a satchel looking for something. He glances up and mutters, "Well
fuckin' leave if ya gotta, Squirrel... what the fuck?" Squirrel goes, "Ask
him to cut half the hair off the top first." I look at Sonny with a smirk
on my face as though I'm waiting for him to ask me. Sonny laughs out loud,
and then says to me, "I don't fucking know why he won't talk to you."

Stepping back over to Squirrel, I comb up batches of his hair on top and
cut off about half the length from each batch and big bunches of his hair
drop on the shirt Squirrel insist on holding in his lap. Does he think
someone will steal it? It takes only two or three minutes to finish cutting
the hair on top. It's much easier and faster than cutting the sides and
back. The whole time I'm cutting, Squirrel's looking at my progress in the
mirror he's holding. His shorter hair stays in place and when I'm finished
I'll be damned if it doesn't look sort of like, coincidentally, a longish
flattop. Squirrel says to me, as we both look at his mirror reflection,
"Jesus, that's really good how you made it so even. Um, ah, thanks," and he
gets up from the desk chair. Sonny goes, "You're done, huh? Fuck, Dylan,
that took quite a while!" I go, "It took exactly as long as needed. I
wanted to do a good job for Squirrel. Right, Squirrel?" He looks at me like
I'm speaking French.

With my fingers, I hesitantly brush hair clippings off Squirrel's slim
shoulders thinking maybe he won't like me touching him but he seems okay
with it. He's brushing hair clippings from his lap and Sonny, who grabbed
Squirrel's shirt from him is now shaking it getting the hair clippings to
drift off the shirt onto all the shit on the floor. Sonny's apparently
unconcerned about that.

Putting his shirt on, Squirrel says, "Okay, that was really good. See you,
Sonny." Glancing at me, he mutters, "Thanks, um, I appreciate it." Sonny
goes, "Call me tomorrow, dude," and Squirrel's going down the steps
fast. Five seconds later the front door slams and five seconds after that
we hear the roar of his motorcycle and then nothing. I ask, "Is he gay?"
Sonny goes, "Nooooo! There's nothing gay about Squirrel. He's into girls
and they're into him. Cute kid, don'cha think?" I shrug and Sonny mumbles,
"Actually I don't think he knows I'm gay. Or he might know, but he's never
said anything."

Sonny's looking at himself in the hand-held mirror as I ask, "How do you
know him? He looks and acts awfully young." Running the comb through his
hair, Sonny says, "Yeah, ya think? He has a baby-face I guess but he's
either seventeen or eighteen. No wait, he's eighteen because I was at his
high school graduation party last spring. We both hang out at the same
garage... that's how I know him. Motorcycle guys, ya know? It's sort of a
motorcycle club I guess you could say. There's like fifteen of us. He, um,
well Squirrel sort of idolizes me although I can't imagine why... heh heh
heh."

Sonny picks up a t-shirt that was laying on the floor to brush Squirrel's
hair clippings off the desk chair. I grab the handheld mirror Sonny dropped
on the bureau to check out my own hairdo as Sonny asks, "Do you want to do
my shampoo now or do you need a beer first... or what? We've got all the
time in the world now that my bud is gone... no rush." I shrug, and he
adds, "I want you to be comfortable and happy so you'll want to take a long
time doing the shampoo." Yeah, he sounds just like Pony did the other
day. I go, "Um, yeah I will have a beer if ya don't mind."

He mutters, "I'll get one for you," and then he points at the bathroom
that's at the end of the short hall, saying, "Um, I set up the bathroom the
way you do it. While I'm getting you a beer do you wanna check it out to
see if I did it right?" Nodding, I mumble, "Yeah, sure," and we walk out of
the bedroom. Sonny goes downstairs and I go into the bathroom. The bathroom
is the opposite of Sonny's bedroom in that it's shiny clean and
neat... sparkling clean with everything seemingly in its place. Not even a
stray hair in the sink or a stray pubic hair around the rim of the
toilet. Plus, Sonny has everything lined up that I'll need to shampoo his
hair including a short sink hose with a spray nozzle, which is a surprise!
I guess that's his mother's too. Maybe she dyes her hair in the sink, ya
know?

I'm taking a piss in the sparkling clean toilet when Sonny comes in with a
can of Coors beer for me. He sets it down and asks in a serious way, "Um, I
was wondering, um, do you think you could blow me before shampooing my
hair?" I laugh out loud and my piss stream almost hits the rim. Getting my
piss stream under control, I go, "NO! I don't think I'll do that."

Haha, I'd actually like to do that but it's not what we usually do so I
don't want to screw up a good thing. He'd probably shoot off in my mouth
anyway and then our fuck wouldn't be as good... for me I mean. Making a
'face', Sonny goes, "Oh, okay. I thought I'd ask, ya know?" I go, "Yeah,
but why?" Shrugging, he goes, "It'd be something new we could add to our
normal stuff." I go, "How 'bout if you suck my dick? That'd be something
new too!" He makes a 'face', saying, "Very funny! You know I only do the
guy sex stuff and you do the girl stuff. Ray taught me that... and we don't
take no shit from our bitches either," and smirking at me, he smacks my
ass. He's still has a cute manner about him and I have to chuckle before
muttering, "How do you fit that huge set of balls you have in your
underwear?" He goes, "Huh?" and I add, "And how about if I don't wanna do
anything sexy? How about that?"

Sonny picks up my can of beer to chugs some and then he goes, "Ah,
fuck. You know I don't think you're one of my bitches, Dylan. And I don't
have any bitches anyway." I mumble, "I'm just breaking your balls, no
problem," and he says, "I think you're the coolest guy ever... um, next to
Ray. He's 'A' and you're '1A' for coolness... and everything else
too. You're twins in that regard." Omigod! Me and Ray twins in anything is
another disturbing thought! Taking the beer from him, I go, "You are so
fucked-up with that shit, Sonny! Why do you think Ray's such a big deal
anyway? Nobody else does." He says, as if I give a shit, "Ray thinks you're
super cool too. And other guys think Ray's just as cool as I do, so..."
What's the sense of continuing this fucked-up and pointless discussion?
Well, there's no sense to it... so I don't.

After drinking a couple of swallows of cold beer, I go, "Do you mind if we
go outside for a smoke before we start?" He points at the window over the
bathtub and says, "Hell, we can smoke in here if we open that window." I'm
frowning, "Smoke in the house? Are you outta your fucking mind?" He shrugs,
"My old man does it." What the fuck, I put one foot in the bathtub to reach
over and open the window.

When I take out my box of Marlboro Sonny grins reaching over and pulling a
cigarette out for himself, muttering, "I owe you two smokes." I light our
cigarettes and drink some more beer, asking, "Where's the shampoo?" He
moves a container of conditioner on the counter next to the sink and
there's the shampoo. Sonny's on top of everything. He has a chair in here
facing away from the sink like I do it, and there's a hand towel on the
seat to put behind his neck for comfort. Plus he's got the short hose
attached to the spigot and, like I said, the hose has a spray nozzle so
it's a perfect set up. Again I have to grin to myself thinking how similar
Pony and Sonny are about all this shit. It's freaky!

Exhaling a drag off his cigarette, Sonny asks, "What have you got against
Ray anyway? You guys were the perfect gay couple when he let you be his
number one boyfriend. And that summer you told me how fabulous he was about
ten times too." Oh shit, that was during the five weeks I lost my mind. I
go, "Look, I know you think he's a stud and all, but we'll need to
agreeably disagree on that, Sonny. For a few weeks, yeah I did think he was
really hot but it didn't last. Who knows why our brains freeze up to let
shit like my poor judgment happen? And I mean the poor judgment I used
being Ray's boyfriend. And then who knows why we change our minds or come
to our senses all of a sudden... like I did, ya know?  It happens all the
time that people change their mind about what they think of each
other... it's normal."

Trying to blow a smoke ring and failing miserably, Sonny goes, "I guess
you're right, but it's a damn shame. Oh man, I loved seeing the way you
jumped when Ray told you to... heh heh. Like I said a while ago, I
fantasized about you or someone as cute as you being my boyfriend and how
I'd be just like Ray." I mumble, "Enough about Ray, okay?" He acts excited,
saying, "Hey, one more thing. He said he had you wear a dog collar for
him. How'd you like that?" I'm frowning. Did that ever happen? Sonny puts
his fingers around my neck, saying, "That's so hot to imagine! It gives me
a boner thinking about it and I wish to hell I could have seen it." Oh man,
I don't remember that! Pushing his hands away, I say too loudly, "I never
wore a dog collar for Ray, that's total bullshit! Do you want the shampoo
or not?"

He sits in the chair, saying, "I don't wanna piss you off, Dylan. I thought
you'd enjoy talking about that summer. We had a ball, didn't we? You and me
being rookie posse boys together and all that shit." I'm like, "Yeah, I
guess there was some of that, Sonny, but it's not something I think
about. Sorry to disappoint you. Christ, it was only like three or four
weeks during the whole summer and then Ray and I dumped each other." He
goes, "No, I hate to correct you but it was most of that summer and he
dumped you because you weren't faithful and you talked back to him, but
I'll stop talking about it." Thank God!

Turning the spigots on, I wait for the water to warm up as I'm saying, "I
don't wanna be an asshole about that summer, Sonny, but we have very
different memories of it, that's all. There's no real harm in that, and I'm
flattered you include me in your fantasy." The truth is, that horseshit is
obviously important to Sonny while it's something I'd like to forget!
That's okay though... Sonny was pretty young and excited about hanging out
with older guys back then. Everything probably seems to him like a bigger
deal than it actually was.

Sonny flicks his cigarette butt into the toilet and it hisses out. After
taking one last drag off my cigarette, I do the same and then position the
hand towel behind his neck, saying, "Lay back Sonny, and we'll get
started." He goes, "You're not mad at me, are you, Dylan?" I shake my head,
saying, "Not at all. You're cool, Sonny. Go ahead and rest your head back."
He does that, saying, "Oh boy, I love this!"

I do the shampoo the way I always do it except I'm stretching it out for
Sonny this time and then extend it further by using conditioner after
rinsing out the shampoo. All together it's like maybe a ten minutes
process. It's an okay experience for me too because for certain guys I like
doing this. Sonny obviously loves it like he said he would. Sure, it's
weird that I enjoy running my fingers through Sonny's orange/red longish
hair in all the creamy shampoo lather. I know that not many people would
want to do that, but I do... so sue me if you don't like it

Part of the fun is looking at Sonny's relaxed body and the look of
contentment on his cute face with his eyes closed and his bow-shaped pink
lips parted. It sort of gives me a good feeling that I can make someone
happy by doing this for them. And, there's some kind of connection between
me and the person I'm shampooing that I can't explain, but I
sense... something good. You know, two humans enjoying physical contact or
something. Haha, like chimpanzees in the zoo picking insects off each
other. Grooming is what the research scientists call it. I mean the chimps
picking bugs off each other, not someone shampooing someone's
hair. Research scientists don't give a shit about someone shampooing
someone's hair.

As I'm rinsing the conditioner from Sonny's hair I'm thinking how strange
it was that cutting lots of hair off Squirrel's head didn't activate much
of my fetish. Yeah, my dick buzzed some but it didn't really get activated
and I think that's because clippers weren't involved. I don't think I
noticed my fetish very much that time I used only scissors doing Rob's
haircut when he was sick in bed or Pony's haircut for that matter. Yeah, I
think it's the clippers that activate my fetish. Who the hell understands
fetishes though? Not me!

It also makes me grin to myself knowing the person I'm giving a haircut has
no idea about my fetish. It's one of those secrets I mentioned earlier that
all of us have that we'd be embarrassed if someone could read our minds. Or
I assume all of us have secrets like that. Also, considering all the
different guys I've given a haircut to over the years I've often wondered
if one of them might also have a secret haircut fetish. I wouldn't know if
they did any more than they'd know I did except for one kid at college who
I strongly suspected had a haircut fetish.

After towel-drying Sonny's hair, I use the hairdryer to finish drying it
and then comb through his hair getting it smooth so that cutting it will be
easier. It's very clean hair now and looks a lighter shade of orange/red
than it did before I started. I pat his head, saying, "That's it for now,
Sonny," he sits up saying, "Awesome! Thank you, Dylan. It was just as
fabulous as it always is!" Well, that's good... I expected him to complain
it wasn't long enough.

Surprisingly, Sonny puts everything back where it belongs in the
bathroom. When he's done that, he asks, "Do you want another beer?" I nod,
"Yeah, thanks." In the kitchen he gets another can of beer from the
refrigerator, asking, "Where should we do my haircut?" Looking around the
kitchen, I go, "We probably should have done Squirrel's haircut in here. Ya
know, so we could sweep up the hair off the tile floor, but since his cut
hairs are already around the floor of your bedroom, why not do your haircut
there too."

As we go back upstairs, he goes, "I'll use the vacuum cleaner later... no
problem." I'll bet the ranch he doesn't use the vacuum cleaner later or
ever, and how could he with all the crap on the floor? Someday when his mom
finally can't stand it any longer and tries cleaning his bedroom she is
gonna end up pitching a fit seeing all the cut hairs mixed in with
everything else on the floor. Heh heh, Rob would probably throw up if he
saw Sonny's bedroom...

Back in the bedroom, Sonny pulls his shirt off. It's wet around the collar
from the shampoo but he never mentions it. Sitting in the chair, he goes,
"I need a short haircut but like I said, please, please do it really slowly
'cause I'm in no hurry, okay?" I shrug, muttering, "Sure," and then pick up
the comb and scissors telling myself I should be having more fun with this
than I am. Damn, that's the same thought I had doing Pony's haircut! What's
up with that?

Ha, if Sonny told Danny he wanted a short haircut Danny would start right
in chopping off most of Sonny's hair, probably even shorter that Sonny
wanted it. I, on the other hand, always double check. Combing through his
wicked clean hair, I ask, "Exactly what kind of haircut do you mean. In
other words, what's 'short' mean to you?" He goes, "Very short... short
enough so I don't need to comb it. Um, I don't know exactly, use your
judgment 'cause I totally trust you. I like getting haircuts from you." I
go, "Aww, that's so sweet." He chuckles, "Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

I think again how much more fun this haircut would be if I had
clippers. That reminds me. I go, "Hey, Sonny, remember those two or three
haircuts you did for me using only scissors?" He turns his head to look at
me with a big smile on his face as he goes, "Oh fuck yeah! They rocked
almost as much as me fucking you afterward. And you got so cooperative
after a while too! That's the really cool part!" I go, "Yeah well, what I'm
asking is how come you didn't do Squirrel's haircut? You're a genius with
scissors." Shaking his head, he goes, "Nah, I've never tried cutting
anyone's hair but yours. It was only awesome for me because it was
you. Other than you I don't want to be touching some guy's hair. Fuck
that..." Huh! He was so good at it too. Life is weird! We're all a little
weird I guess.

Anyway, Danny would take that opening... 'use your judgment', and cut it as
short as Squirrel's or more likely cut Sonny's hair into a flattop, hahaha!
That's Danny, not me. My judgment tells me that may not be what Sonny has
in mind. Like I did with Squirrel, and as a courtesy to anyone I'm giving a
haircut to I try to get a clarification of exactly what the guy wants
before I start.

Then, when the guy is still vague because they're not sure themselves I err
on the side of not cutting it too short. Hair can always be cut
shorter. This is the opposite approach Danny takes, but why I'm going over
this in my mind right now I haven't a clue. I mean, I don't care that
Danny's the college barber, right?

Getting my mind back on the situation at hand here, I use the scissors over
comb method to cut the sides down to about a half inch for Sonny. Every
time I close the scissors we hear the "Scrunch!' sound the scissors are
cutting off a bunch of two-inch long hairs... "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch."
Lots of orange/red hair tumbles off Sonny's shoulder, some of it going to
the floor and some onto his lap. And, like a lot of guys do, Sonny picks up
some of the cut hairs and rubs it between his fingers like he can't believe
it's his, or used to be his... and now it's not.

My haircut fetish buzzes about the same amount during Sonny's haircut as it
did during Squirrel's, which is to say... not a lot. I'm convinced now that
it's the clippers that get my fetish activated the most, and I don't know
why. Yeah, except maybe it has something to do with how much I loved Chubby
giving me those clipper buzz cuts starting years ago when we were very,
very young. Those pleasurable experiences maybe did a hard copy
implantation in my brain's subconscious pleasure zone and it gets activated
by the sound of barber's clippers. Haha, that's as good an explanation as
I've ever come up with. Weird doesn't adequately cover that fetish or any
fetish but 'weird' is close enough... odd, scary, inexplicable, strange and
so forth also apply to the unconscious mind.

When I comb the hair from the front over Sonny's forehead, his bangs, in
other words, the hair almost reaches the tip of his cute freckled nose. The
scissors go, "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch," as I cut across that long hair
halfway down his forehead and Sonny jokes, "I can see again!"

Combing up the much shorter bangs and then holding them between my first
two fingers, I cut another inch and a half of hair off and do the same
thing about twenty times working back over the top of his head. Standing
back I survey his haircut to this point. All the way up the sides and back
are an even half-inch and the hair on top is now about two inches long
after that first cut. Hell, at this length his hair could be combed about a
half-dozen different ways.

My experienced judgment tells me that this is the perfect time to stop. His
hairs short but not too short. I use the beard trimmer outlining around his
ears and down the sides of his neck in back. Lastly, some tapering along
his neck hairline so it's not the 'squared-off' look that so many barbers
do routinely nowadays that it's become accepted as the way it's done. Most
guys don't care about things like that, but I still do.

I get the handheld mirror off the bureau and give it to Sonny, saying,
"Take a look, Sonny. You can comb your hair any number of ways; it's up to
you." He looks at his hair, moving the mirror around to both sides before
saying, "Yeah, I see what you mean, Dylan, except I don't want to comb my
hair any number of ways. Would you be pissed at me if I asked you to cut
the top a lot shorter? When I get up in the morning I'd rather not need to
do anything with my hair." Haha, okay, I guess Danny's approach, in this
one instance, would have been exactly what Sonny wanted.

Giving Sonny a pat on his bare shoulder, I'm like, "No problem. That's what
you said you said from the start, wasn't it? I was just double checking
with you to be sure." He mutters, "Thanks, man, you're the best although to
be accurate, that was actually more like 'triple' checking, but it's cool."
Hmmmm...

Yeah well, I wish I had those evil thinning scissors Rob loved to use when
he cut my hair. I could have some fun with those scissors. Instead, I get
the comb out of my pocket and begin combing up the hair at the crown and
cutting it down to almost but not quite a half inch, just a tad longer than
the sides so everything blends smoothly. The hairs at the crown are now too
short to lie down... they stick-up, but they're as even as if I used an
attachment on clippers. I only cut the hairs at the crown that short
though. Working from the crown to the front of his head after I cut the
hairs just barely long enough so they don't stick up like a buzz cut.

Sonny's watching me in the mirror the whole time and when I'm done, he
says, "Awesome! One last request though. Would you cut the bangs off at the
hairline?" I do that, "Scrunch, scrunch, scrunch," and he goes, "Perfect!
Thank you, Dylan." I try not to but snort out a laugh anyway and
immediately say, "I'm laughing at myself, Sonny... not you. It's just that
the haircut you wanted is what you would have gotten from my friend at
college who is doing free haircuts there this year." He frowns, "Whaddaya
mean?" Shaking my head, I mutter, "It would take too long to explain. It's
a joke on myself, um, forget about it."

What Sonny wanted is not a normal 'look' but I've seen it before on a few
guys. Sonny is one of those guys who truly doesn't give a flying fuck about
his hairdo. His number one wish is to not have to do anything with
it. Stupid! I almost hope he doesn't tell anybody that I was the barber.

He rubs his fingers back through his hair, going, "Dude, this feels so
fucking good." I shrug, mumbling, "Uh huh, I'm glad, Sonny," and he goes,
"Hey! You ain't gonna believe this but I got a boner while you were cutting
my hair! It felt awesome too..." What? Hmmm! I ask, "Really? Um, does that
happen often? I mean, when you get your hair cut." He goes, "Never happened
before in my life! I wish the fuck it would though! Heh heh, I'd be getting
haircuts more often, ya know?"

He's getting up brushing lots of hair off his lap so I brush the hair off
his shoulders. There's lots of cut orange/red hair all around the
chair. Ironically Sonny may have gotten a better boner than I did. Mine is
at most a 'semi' boner. Better than nothing...

Swiping at the last few cut hairs on his shoulders with my fingers, I ask,
"Did I do it slow enough for you?" He laughs, "Fuck, I guess so! Bro, that
was a poppin'-fresh experience with you cutting the shit outta my hair and
me with my off-the-meat-rack boner most of the fuckin' time. Yeah, I guess
you did it perfectly in every way imaginable... I mean, I had a fucking
boner in my pants, dude!"

Jesus, what's up with that? Sonny's holding the mirror with one hand and
running the fingers of his other hand back through his hair as he goes,
"Hey, Dylan, you outdid yourself dialing-up a super sick experience for
me. One I'm gonna remember forever." I'm giving him a 'look'
like... really? I don't know what to say. Putting the mirror down, Sonny
rubs his crotch, adding, "Damn, I wish to hell I kept a, you know, a
journal or something so I could write about this. Maybe I'll start one!"

Grinning at Sonny, still not sure if he's putting me on or what, I mutter,
"Um, maybe you need to lie down or something... take a chill pill maybe."
Sonny's looking at all his cut hair on the floor and then kicking at it,
he's saying, "Easy for you to say! You've never had a boner all through a
haircut! It's freakin' sick... wicked awesome... haha!" I'm like, "Do you
still got it? The boner I mean..." He grins, "You'll find out soon enough,
won't ya?" Wow, I can't remember Sonny being this, um, demonstrative...

I go, "Ha, you just assume we're gonna fuck, huh?" He nods, "Uh huh," and
he takes hold of my upper arms, my bicep muscles and says, "I learned
something new," and he kisses my mouth. It's a three-second kiss with the
tip of his tongue just touching mine. I don't move because this has taken
me totally off guard! Jesus, there have been a number of unexpected things
happening to me lately and this kiss goes on that list. Not that it's an
especially memorable kiss in and of itself, but because it was unexpected
and from Sonny! He's definitely not the kissing type. Whatever, it got my
dick moving a little in my pants.

Still holding onto my arms, Sonny pulls his lips off mine and goes, "How'd
you like that?" I nod my head, mumbling, "Wow, I'm gonna write about that
kiss in my diary." He laughs out loud and then says, "Bullshit.." and then
kisses me again with me kissing back this time. Standing here awkwardly,
his red/orange cut hairs under our feet, we make out for maybe two
minutes. Sonny's kissing technique is limited but I let him be in-charge,
resisting the urge to take over and show him how grown up boys do it.

Usually, kissing is the last two things young guys just starting to
experiment with gay sex will do... hold hands being the very last
thing. Young inexperienced gay guys will 'dance' around the situation
something like this: it'll starts with long looks at boys they have a crush
on. And then if they're one of the lucky ones a desirable boy will look
back at him for that extra two seconds. Then awkwardness aplenty ensues as
the dance continues with testing questions asked in a joking manner until,
and this is a huge first step, they finally at least jerk themselves off
together which likely leads eventually to the next logical step of jerking
each other off. Then maybe one of the two will lick his friend's dick on a
dare. That breaks the ice and eventually leads to oral sex performed by the
more submissive or maybe more motivated one. Yes, one will be more
adventurous and therefore more dominant even at the earliest stages and
forcefully encourage the other to do that first dick-lick. Eventually,
whether the boys realize it or not, which mostly they don't there's a
sub/dom situation developing where the gayest of the two, usually the more
submissive of the boys will agree to let the other boy try fucking
him... and then they're off to the races. Kissing isn't normally even
thought of because neither of the boys wants to believe he's totally queer
rationalizing they're just experimenting etc... 'We're just screwing
around, right?' It goes like that...

Anyway, now that Sonny's broken through the forbidden kissing barrier, how
far in the future will it be before he's holding hands with... who? That's
right, I don't think Sonny has a boyfriend. He's rarely alluded to having
one. Well, he vaguely alluded to one as I recall, but without much
conviction and I've always thought most of it was bull-doody. Not that it's
unusual at all that Sonny wouldn't have a boyfriend at his age. I sometimes
forget my gay life has not been normal, it's been more like a miracle.

The last two friends of Sonny's I met were both very straight and I can
only think of that one time when he mentioned that the guy he was with was
gay, and I don't even know if he meant they were gay buddies. Just because
two guys are gay doesn't mean they're 'into' each other. Poor Sonny! Well,
Sonny hangs out all the time with the motorcycle guys and how many gay guys
are there likely to be in a fifteen-member motorcycle club? There's
Sonny... and that's probably it.

After our short make-out, Sonny pulls his head back and I see there's a
bright red spot on each of his cheeks. He looks serious, asking, "Ya didn't
know I was this sophisticated, did you?" I mumble, "Nothing you do can
surprise me, Sonny." That's a lie but he seems so, I don't know, so
innocently sincere when he inferred he was sophisticated it made him seem
even more likable. Sonny is Pony's age and at times they both seem very
young, very naive, and then at other times... the opposite.

Sonny goes, "Really? Is that a compliment?" I shrug, mumbling, "Um, it
could be," and he mumbles, "Anyway, after that incredibly hot foreplay,
which is what that kissing was all about, you should be all hot and
bothered by now. I'm surprised you haven't pulled your pants down by now."
I snicker and then say, "Oh, I used my extreme willpower to resist that
urge! Um, what are we using for lubricant?" He looks shocked, "Lubricant?
We never use that. Lube is for pussies!" Oh, fuck! Another bogus bit of
misinformation he got from Ray.

Well, I had sex for years rarely using lube, so I go, "It's a bad idea, but
okay. You drop your pants first though and I'll give your dick a few
squeezes and a couple of nice strokes so we at least get some pre-cum
rolling." His eyes light up, "Oh, it's so great of you to offer to do that,
Dylan," and he drops his pants to his knees.

Huh, he said he had a boner during the haircut, and he probably did because
why would he make that up, but he doesn't have one now. I guess the short
make-out didn't do 'it' for him. Anyway, I take his penis in my hand and
stroke it. He puts his hands on my shoulders and grunts, "Aaaah! Aaaah!"

Sonny's cock is cut but it's a very nice size at six inches long with a
normal girth, much like mine... mine, and Danny's, and Pony's, and lots of
other guys too I'd imagine. Six inches is above average although not by a
hell of a lot. Being a redhead, Sonny is very pale complexioned but his
dick is even paler... almost white! There are no freckles on it
though... haha. I've never seen a penis with freckles now that I think
about it. That'd be something to see alright!

After a few strokes on his dick is all it takes to get it firming
up. Without letting go of his cock, I step behind him and put my other arm
around his waist and then resume the stroking. This is the best way to
stroke off a friend because it's the same stroking action he's familiar
with from whacking himself off. I give his penis a good tight stroking and
in no time it has Sonny's going up on his toes, grunting, "Oh, ooh, oooh,"
as he leans back against me with his hand on the wrist of my fast moving
fist. His cock very quickly gets very hard so I mumble, "You've got a very
sensitive penis, Sonny." He's changed his grunts, "Ah, aah, aaaah!" and
then a long drool of pre-cum runs out of the hard head of his hard boner. A
watery but gooey substance that running down the back of my fingers. Jeez,
he's horny. Lots of precum and it happened pretty fast too.

This is fun but it's not our normal routine. Sonny's not taking charge. Ya
know, there are so many disappointments in life it's almost like I expect
them now.

When his boner is sticking straight out I let go of it and step next to him
as I'm pulling my pants down. Sonny grabs his cock and continues stroking
it, but only for a few seconds. Being a smart lad he spots my naked ass and
immediately shuffles around behind me. He can only shuffle his feet because
his pants are now down around his ankles. I'm looking back as he pokes the
wet head of his hard boner against my asshole. It's wet with pre-cum which
is nature's idea of lubricant and yeah, it's better than nothing but can't
compare to real, I mean, artificial lubricant. When he gets the head of his
boner spreading the lips of my anus the pre-cum is mostly scraped off and
left outside drooling down onto my perineum which is not helping the
progress of that hard cock head making its way up inside me.

On the plus side, Sonny has taken over this sex act and he's in charge
now. Both his arms are around the front of my waist with one of his hands
on my pecker stroking it. Nice move! When the hard head of his cock is
snugly in past my sphincter and sparklers of pain have subsided somewhat
Sonny lets go of my stiff cock and begins pulling me back onto his steel
rod. And again I'm back in the hurt! I'm spoiled from using plenty of lube
the past couple of years and let's face it, his cock stretching my asshole
is going in almost dry and that hurts like a motherfucker! What keeps me
from pulling out of his grip is the knowledge that this hurt is
temporary. Unnecessary for sure, but temporary.

Sonny grunts, "Oh fuck... this feels good." Yeah, wonderful for him! As for
me, my face is all scrunched up as I hold my breath dealing with what's
quickly becoming a mixture of sensations consisting of a large amount of
the discomfort known as pain and I'm just now beginning to notice a slight
trend towards sexual pleasure. Yeah, that's just beginning to creep into
the picture. The beginnings of a little bit of sexual pleasure mostly come
compliments of my prostate gland which is always ready for a good time.

Sonny, being anxious, got his six inches of boner all the way inside me in
maybe ten seconds. He's now tight against my buttocks and humping a tad
roughly. I'm sure his hard cock, now fully impaling me, is feeling awesome
for him but I can't say the same for my ass. I let out my held breath in a
gasping manner that goes unnoticed by Sonny. The pain is still dominant for
me although Sonny's so enthralled with the situation he hugs my back
against his chest which, on the plus side, means he's at least not moving
his boner. Meanwhile, my rectum is in high gear adjusting to the familiar
intrusion that's not especially huge, but it's not nothing either. It's
definitely something to notice when compared to what was in my rectum a
minute ago, which was... nothing.

Then, without expecting to do this, I let out a sigh as the pain is
noticeably fading and, of course, Pony misinterprets my sigh, saying,
"Feels good, don't it, Dylan?" I mutter, "It hurt, dude! You need to
abandon your archaic idea that lubricant is for pussies. Ray has given you
stupid advice... again!" He goes, "Oh, I'm sorry, Dylan." I go, "Yeah, well
it's feeling pretty good now but, Sonny, if you hope to make some future
boyfriend happy, use lube, dude!" He goes, "Um, will it feel better for me
too or, um, just the girly-boy I'm fucking." I start to get pissed, but
instead, I can't help but laugh out loud at that moronic question.

Sonny humps against my buttocks again, asking, 'Why'd you laugh?" Shaking
my head slowly, I go, "Oh, nothing." And he goes, "No, really, I want to
learn from you." I go, "Well, that girlie-boy shit won't work with most
guys... hardly any, actually. And you'll never find a boyfriend who will
put up with bareback fucking when it isn't necessary. In a pinch, like
today when you don't own lube, it might work... once! Rarely twice
though. You need to make your 'bottom' partner want to do it more than once
with you; that only makes sense, right?" He pulls his boner back and I suck
in some air trying not to make a sound that he'll likely misinterpret
again. When he pushes his cock back up my ass though it mostly feels
awesome and my shoulders shudder. Sonny goes, "You seem to be liking it
okay."

Fuck 'em then. Let him learn reality on his own time. I go, "All I'll say,
Sonny, is this... today is the last fucking time I'll do it with you unless
you have lube. Period!" He says, "Well, I'll buy some lubricant then,
okay?" and he does a half dozen thrusts and I need to pull away from his
arms and bend forward with my hands on my knees. Standing up while fucking
always ends up with me bending forward grabbing my knees or grabbing
something like a table, or a carton of whiskey bottles like I did with John
Smith, or grab something. It just feels better in the bent forward
position.

Sonny's done talking and he does what comes naturally which creates loud
"Slap, slap, slap," sounds that fill his bedroom. Now that my rectum has
adjusted it's all about wonderful sensations bursting from the nerve
endings in my anus and from my prostate gland. Sonny's fast-moving six
inches of boner doesn't miss any of them. The nerve endings are on fill
pleasure mode by now and the steady pounding in my ass makes all the
earlier problems fade away.

There's quickly a problem though. In only about ninety seconds Sonny's
already gasping and sounding like he's in pain and he's tight against my
buttocks humping against them making ever increasing desperate groans and
then I feel a very sharp stream of cum hit inside me, or imagine I do
anyhow. It felt warmer for a fraction of a second and now it's definitely
sloppy up my ass as Sonny groans and gasps and humps some more before just
leaning against me for a little bit with him gulping in oxygen. My dick is
still very hard but an orgasm is not in the picture yet, not even close.

After a brief rest and a long moan, "Oooooh, ooooh fuuuuuck," he starts
thrusting again and it's smooth going because cum is an excellent
lubricant... natures best effort, lubricant-wise! "Slapslapslapslap," for
another two minutes and now my orgasm button is pushed and a climax begins
its fast rumbling charge that can't easily be stopped although I've rarely
tried. Sonny's got his six inches of cock that's surprisingly still a very
hard boner deliciously moving its full length tightly up my ass and back,
up my ass and back, and soon I'm gasping and it's here... my climax roars
on me but I refuse to do my squeal. Instead, I hold my breath watching the
three fast-moving spurts of cum shoot parallel to my bent over torso and
past my eyes. My orgasm flies by in a microsecond to hit the side of
Sonny's bedspread.

No squeal but, "Ahhhh, mmmm," comes from my throat as after-effects of my
climax make me shudder all over. Very nice! All and all an average climax
but the worst climax I ever had was something to cherish. Sonny's going for
a double-bagger though and that's probably gonna take another couple of
minutes. The extra thrusting feels good for a bit, and then just okay, and
then I'm thinking, 'C'mon, Sonny, climax already' because I'm not aroused
enough by Sonny to have a second climax myself and without that
anticipation, there's only so long that his thrusting boner is enjoyable.

It's closer to three minutes before he gasps, breaths noisily as his crotch
is tight against my ass again with Sonny humping and shooting what's
undoubtedly a small load of secondary spunk up my ass. It probably felt
like a waterfall of cum to Sonny though. He backs away from my ass
immediately and I straighten up looking back at him. Cum is drooling off
the head of his quickly softening cock as he steps back a few steps,
bumping into his bureau before stopping. He's breathing deeply, his chest
expanding a lot and I imagine his heart thumping against his ribs. His face
is red and then he looks up and grins, mumbling, "I fucked that ass of
yours like a pro, huh?" Not really, but I go, "Awesome fuck! You the man,
Sonny..."

Still grinning he goes, "Do you have any idea how long it's been for me? I
mean since the last time I fucked..." Shrugging, I go, "Um, a week?" He
snorts out a laugh, and mutters, "Never mind," as he pulls his pants
up. I'm like, "You gonna help clean your cum off my ass?" He goes, "Clean
it yourself!" but then laughs, adding, "Just kidding." We go into the
bathroom and he does a half-ass job of wiping his cum off my ass... I do
the rest. Sonny just pulls up his pants all the way and snaps the button on
his jeans without so much as wiping his dick. Ew!

When I've washed up really well we go downstairs and I stay with Sonny
drinking another beer while he has another tonic water. After a while, we
go outside for a smoke and Sonny says, "Now I owe you three cigarettes."
He's back talking about the posse boys' summer but then that's really all
we have in common when you get right down to it. It's a major part of his
best times ever I guess. He doesn't bring up Ray again though so it's not
so bad and I really do like Sonny and in a way feel kinda sad for
him. Maybe I shouldn't feel sad for him any more than I should feel kinda
sad for John Smith, but I do just the same. There's something lonely or
maybe it's an unhappiness I detect under their otherwise cool
personalities. Maybe it's just that they're missing a steady fuck buddy or
maybe they're happier than I am and I don't know what I'm talking about. I
hope it's the latter...

As I'm listening to Sonny describe the difference between a motorcycle's
single cylinder engine and twin cylinder one, Robby sends me a text saying
that he's just about done what he needed to do at work. Mostly meetings and
then some planning notes, but he's ready any time I want to pick him up. I
tell Sonny I need to go and he nods, saying, "Well, this has been an
awesome time, Dylan! I wish to hell you weren't away at college 'cause you
never fucking disappoint me... never!" I go, "Neither do you," and I kiss
him a quick kiss on his lips. He goes, "Hey, no offense but that's only
appropriate as foreplay." I pat his shoulder, saying, "You're wrong about
that, Sonny, but you'll find that out for yourself... I hope."

He walks with me to the pickup in the driveway and then does a posse boy
hug goodbye which makes me smile and want to laugh but I don't because he's
so serious about it. Getting in the pickup, I say, "Until next time, Sonny,
see ya, buddy." He goes, "Not if I see you first." Oh, God, corny!

And then as he smiles, and I'm backing out of the driveway he gives me the
finger. Jesus, I snort out a chuckle and drive toward Route 9, thinking the
same thing I thought after Pony's and my recent similar experience... 'that
should have been, the entire afternoon should have been sexier than it was!
It was a fun afternoon, sure, but it used to seem, um, hotter and
everything used to be more intense and wild and... oh, fuck, getting old
blows!

to be continued...

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

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

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

Donny Mumford

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

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