Date: Fri, 11 Jan 2019 02:15:34 +0000 (UTC)
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter  27

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter  27

by  Donny Mumford


Pony's much-improved attitude has been very noticeable to me, and to anyone
who knows him probably. He's back to being himself for better or worse
depending, I suppose, on one's opinion of him previously. Thinking back on
it, I can't help but feel if Pony and his parents conspired to
intentionally push all the wrong buttons last summer, they couldn't have
screwed themselves up any more than they did. Egos and ignorance clashed to
fuck-up a family's summer and I don't think that absurd drama was
especially unique either. I'll bet similar family cluster-fucks have played
out in one form or another a hundred million times going back ten thousand
years. It's easy to blame immaturity for the part Daryl played in the
family's idiotic summer, but what's his parents' excuse?

Anyway, Pony and I are presently outside his dormitory having a smoke and
feeling pretty good after our second sexathon of senior year. We had oral
and anal sex and it was pretty good. I'm exhaling smoke, looking around on
this sunny albeit chilly Sunday late in the afternoon thinking, no, I'm not
really ready for the colder weather we're beginning to experience this
third or fourth week of fall, not that that has anything to do with
anything; we're basically just killing time anticipating a sexy encore. Of
course, sex is part of the reason for our good moods as it often is, but
other aspects of life are okay too. That's especially true for Pony
considering how low he was when he got off that plane early last month at
Logan.

It's obvious Pony's happy with our relationship both as friends AND as sex
buddies, but mostly his positive and happy frame of mind is because he's
back in the good graces of his parents. His father's threat, bogus as I've
always contended it was to pull Pony out of college, is now completely off
the table and off Pony's mind.

Last summer's bitter acrimony has been replaced with pleasant emails and
phone conversations between the family members. And, weirdly, Pony's
'selfie' sent to his folks showing off his too-short flattop haircut from
Danny is what cemented the good terms Pony and his family enjoys. Crazy,
huh? That selfie was sent against my advice but it appears to have
completed a process of improving relations that Pony and I started at
Rolf's Bar last week. Now everything is peaches and cream between the
Pontis... so, that's good.

Oh, and Pony's become a huge 'fanboy' of his new barber. The way Pony tells
it, Danny flattered him saying the true flattop 'look' he gave Pony is
perfect for him and nobody has ever looked better with that particular
haircut. Haha, Danny tried convincing me of basically that same
bullshit. Also, Danny planted a big sloppy kiss on Pony's mouth which
impressed him tremendously. He is, after all, starved for attention and
very receptive to anyone willing to give it to him. Whatever... Pony thinks
Danny's wicked cool now.

After taking a drag off the cigarette he bummed off me, Pony says
excitedly, "Goddamn, Dylan, I feel super awesome!" and he laughs, adding,
"I know, I'm acting like a nerd but I don't give a shit," and he yells out
loud, "I'm happy to be back at college," and he does a little
jig. Actually, he does look a little bit nerdy with that too-short silly
flattop haircut and his new eyeglasses! Okay... a cute nerd. A flattop
haircut and eyeglasses do not go well together. I'm not sure why, but no
one ever looked cool with those two components.

Still, I can't help but smile at Pony's exuberance and I'm very glad to see
the 'old' Pony again. Yeah, the carefree cute goof, the one I became very
fond of last year. Even so, I mumble, "Will you please stop acting
nerdy. Yelling out like that and dancing in the street is attracting the
wrong kind of attention." He goes, "Hey! After I called myself a nerd,
you're supposed to convince me I'm not nerdy! Instead, you criticized me."
Oh boy! I mutter, "Oh, okay, you're not nerdy."

Actually, I don't care about any of that. What I'm mostly thinking about is
our recent sex with me the 'top'. Oh man, I'm really getting into
'topping'! Yeah, I'm getting into that bad-ass 'topping' thing big time!
And, no, I don't mean I want to 'top' Rob or Danny. I wouldn't think of
changing a thing about the sex I'm having with those two. Me topping Pony
was awesome though and I'm all geared up for our encore!

Hmmm, this is crazy but I have the strongest urge to ask him how he liked
me topping his ass. It's a really strong urge that I'm fighting off because
I don't want to be like every other guy who fucks someone and then expects
compliments about what a great 'top' they were. Fucking egos, ya know?

Pony likes his sex rough too and he's very much into playing the submissive
role which an interesting aspect of 'topping' him. I find there's a certain
allure to acting dominant with him. Never thought about that 'side' of
things before, but it's kinda hot seeing him slip right into the submissive
role. Reminds me of myself at an earlier age. The problem is I can't work
up what it takes to be as rough with Pony as he wants. I just can't do it!
Fuck, he actually liked when that kid, Chickie, or whatever his name is,
smacked Pony's face repeatedly as Pony was sucking the kid's dick. I
couldn't do that! I wouldn't mind smacking Chickie's face for a while
though.

Jesus, look at him! Pony's jumpy and full of energy. He can't stand still
as he lightly punches my shoulder, asking, "We're gonna do it again,
right?" Trying for blasé because, after all, I am supposed to be the
experienced slightly-dominant 'top' here. Casually, I say, "If you want to,
sure... I guess." He mutters, "You want to as much as I do!" and then he
takes out his cell phone and punches up his dad's text, saying, "Heh heh,
this will be more nerdy behavior on my part but I like rereading the text
from my old man. I've already read it ten times." Nodding, I mutter, "It's
a good text alright." He reads his dad's text, his lips moving as he reads,
and then nods his head approvingly while mumbling, "You and I came up with
the perfect solution to that slippery situation, Dylan. Heh heh, we conned
my old man into thinking I agreed with all his criticisms of me."
Chuckling, I say, "We conned him? Get a grip! You're the one who did cave
in on every single point he made. What are you talking about... conning
him?" He laughs, "Oh fuck, you're right, haha. It doesn't matter
though... we're all good, and in the process, I discovered this cool new
'look' for myself, this flattop 'look'." Omigod!

I'm not gonna burst his bubble by telling him he looks like a goof with his
too-short flattop and eyeglasses. If you can't say something nice, ya know?
So I keep my mouth shut but jeez, he's still a cute motherfucker when he's
acting all geeked-up like this. I give the back of his neck an affectionate
squeeze, reiterating, "Yep, and it's you who deserves the credit for
starting the ball rolling that got the discord resolved. Um, discord you
mostly created yourself of course, but... whatever."

Yeah, I can't let Pony entirely off the hook for his summer of troubles. He
goes, "But it was their fault too, right?" I nod my head, saying, "Yep,
that's true too and like I told you before, I'm of the opinion that,
frankly, one of your parents should have taken the first step. They didn't
and you did, so it's all good and mucho kudos to you." Jesus, we're beating
a dead horse here. Let's get going with the encore!

I give the back of his skinny neck a little bit of a tighter squeeze this
time and it makes Pony hunch his shoulders and grins at me, saying, "You
have no idea how good it makes me feel that you said that, that you give me
credit for straightening my folks out and proving I was right all along."
What the fuck? I said the opposite!

I'm like, "Um, not to make too fine a point of it, but I'm not saying you
straightened your parents out. I'm merely giving you the credit for getting
things rolling to a solution." He frowns, "Um, yeah, I guess." I go, "Look,
Pony, don't take this the wrong way, um, I understand why you're still
fixated on the family situations but it's probably time for you to move on,
ya know? It was ballsy of you to take the initiative and all that, but you
really need to drop it, dude." He brightens, "Whoa, good 'talk', Dylan! Ya
know what, you're the best friend I ever had!" I mutter, "Oh, thank you,
that's sweet." Jesus, that's not saying much considering how his previous
best friend dumped him when Pony said he thought he might be
bisexual. What'd Pony tell me... they'd grown up as neighbors and best
friend for like fifteen years and then that's all it took for that other
dip-shit to break-off the friendship! Major asshole alert!

Damn though, haha, right now I'm mostly interested in picturing Pony's hot
ass and I'm itchy for us to do it again. Ya know, it's awesome the way
everything of a sexual nature is turning out so well for me my senior
year. After that fuck-less summer who would have thought that this could be
my best year ever, sex-wise, and to be honest everything else-wise too.

Then, just as I'm about to suggest we go back inside and start a hot
make-out like Pony suggested, my cell phone pings indicating a text
message. Damn, I do a little jump 'cause the 'ping' from my pocket startled
me. I'm wrapped a little too tight, I guess. I need to relax more.

Pulling my phone out I see a text from Rob telling me practice is over
early. Well, balls! He's asking if we need anything at the store on his way
to the apartment. Oh, how domestic of him! That's nice. Yeah, but he thinks
I'm at the apartment. I text back to tell him I'm on campus and I ran into
Pony at the Quad and blah, blah, blah... and then I add that I'll walk down
and meet him at the ballpark. Rob texts back saying he'll wait for me
inside the locker room and I should just go right inside. With this new
head coach character, I never know when Rob's gonna be done practice. The
coach sometimes has short practices and then other days the practices go on
much longer. Not very considerate, ya know?

Anyway, now I look over at Pony and make a 'face'. He goes, "What?"
Shrugging I mumble, "Sorry, buddy, but I gotta pass on our encore. I'll
make it up to you soon though." He goes, "Why can't you stay? Who was that
text from?" I tell him and explain I couldn't think of any reason to tell
Rob why I'd be another fifteen minutes. Plus, I do not want to walk back to
the fucking apartment, so I need the ride. Shaking his head, he mutters,
"Yeah, I see what you mean. If I had bought that motorbike last summer I
could give you a ride back after we screwed again!" I snort out a laugh,
muttering, "Yeah, the motorbike. Well, um... anyway I gotta take off." He
goes, "Dammit! And our class schedules are fucked up too! When can I see
you again?"

Yeah, we do have partially conflicting schedules. He's in class when I'm
not, and so forth. There are a couple of days a week when we're both free
in the afternoon though. I say, "Whaddaya talking about? We have at least
two afternoons a week and then on the weekends occasionally, you know when
my lover-boy is at baseball practice." He goes, "But you're forgetting my
roommate Donald. We have that thingie we're doing for college credit and
that takes up one of those days I'll be working at the YMCA." I'm trying to
be patient with him 'cause he's still vulnerable after all his stress with
the family and whatnot, but I can't help getting a little irritated at his
whining, so I go, "Hey, first of all, that's a good thing you're doing at
the YMCA! And what the fuck, you and I can't get together mornings anyway!"
He says, "Don't yell at me, Dylan. It hurts my feelings." I quietly say,
"That wasn't yelling. And you're not doing the work at the YMCA just for
the credits I hope."

Ignoring that, Pony says, "Can you at least come back in the room for a
short make-out? You're the one who's big on us kissing." Oh, Christ, that
bull-doody again! I can't help but snort out a chuckle though, and then
say, "No, as enticing as that sounds I fear I'd get too aroused by you and
not be able to stop." He goes, "See that... you're always making fun of me
too." I go, "Don't be a baby! I'm not making fun of you! I'm making fun of
myself if anything. I'll give you a kiss goodbye right here if you want."
He looks around, saying, "Omigod, don't do that!" So I give him an awkward
hug instead, saying, "I had a great time with you this afternoon. You look,
um, great too and, well, I'll text you, okay?" He nods, saying, "It was
fun! More than fun actually, but it was too quick." I nod, saying, "Yeah, I
know... text me whenever you want," and I begin backing away. He goes, "You
text me!" and I say, "Yeah, well I usually do, don't I?" He starts heading
back to his dorm, calling over his shoulder, "You better text me."

Why do I always need to be the one who texts everybody? Oh man though,
'topping' him was fun sex! Looking back I see he's looking back at me so I
wave and he waves back with that cute smile of his. Damn, I like that kid!
It's funny, as in odd, that there are certain people we somehow connect
with in more special ways than we do with most of the other people we
know. I'd be hard-pressed to describe why Pony is one of those special
people for me. I hope it isn't simply that he reminds me of myself. Well,
Pony's not much younger than me anyway, so that reason has some holes in
it. I don't know what it is exactly, but so what? It's cool.

Dormitory row is only a few blocks from the ballpark so I don't have a lot
of time to figure out how to break the news to Robby we're having a dinner
party for twelve guys this Saturday night. He'll be thrilled, I'm
sure... heh heh. I should have consulted with him first, obviously, but it
was a spur of the moment thing. And fuck, now I'm not even sure why I
invited all those guys. The only thing I can think of is I wanted Connor
over for dinner but, because of his Neanderthal boyfriend I felt it'd work
out better if I had other guys around. Was that it? Jesus, I hope not! I'm
not afraid of Stosh...

At the door to the locker room, there's a sign saying 'Official Personnel
Only'. That's me, right? I go inside and see Rob and Carl talking. They're
away from the other ballplayers who are mostly goofing around yelling and
whatnot. Typical jock behavior. Carl's back is up against the wall and
Robby's got a hand on each of Carl's shoulders. He's talking to Carl with a
serious expression on his face. Undoubtedly mentoring him in some
meaningful manner. Unless he's getting ready to kiss him. Haha, no, he
wouldn't do that with all these teammates around. I go, "Hey, numb-nuts!
Whassup?" They both look over and smile at me without a trace of guilt, so
maybe Rob was discussing some mentoring points about batting or something.

Rob goes, "Wow, you're in a good mood, babe. Wassup yourself?" When I walk
over, we all do light fist bumps as I say, "Nah, mostly I'm just glad my
hangover is history. How you feeling, Rob?" He goes, "Oh fuck, I'm
dragging. I was just telling Carl about us drinking too much at dinner last
night." Us? How about his parents! I don't see anything I can add to that
without mentioning Rob's parents, so I say, "Well then... how you doing,
Carl?" He says, "I'm not hung-over, for one thing," and I mutter, "Ya don't
know what you're missing," and the three of us drift over to the door.

Rob has his arm across Carl's shoulders as he says to me, "And I was
telling Carl that you and I have work to do tonight, as in the
real-world-business stuff, so Carl here cannot join us for dinner again
tonight." He's referring to that part-timer's report for Dickers & Son. Oh,
fuck, I forgot about that.

I go, "Yeah, it's a shame you can't come for dinner, Carl. Hey, do you even
know where your dining hall is? I mean, have you eaten there yet?" Rob
gives Carl's shoulders a hug as he chuckles and says, "Don't be mean to my
young mentoree, Dylan," and then to Carl, "You've been in your dining hall
once or twice, right?" Carl says, "About twenty times, yeah! You senior
guys are making fun of me again. My feelings would be hurt except I've been
with you guys enough to know you hurt everyone's feelings... including each
other." Rob mutters, "It's called ball busting, my young friend. If no one
is busting your balls you're not with true friends." Rob and I slap hands
as Carl goes, "I'm used to a kinder more gentle group of friends. All we do
is compliment and encourage one another." Robby goes, "Boring! Are you
saying you only know pussies? That's boring, Carl."

They both have on their baseball caps so I can't see Carl's flattop. I want
to check it out again because I think Danny gave Pony an even shorter
haircut than Carl's. Well, what the fuck, if I wanna see if Carl's shiny
red hair I'll take his freakin' hat off. As we're walking, that's what I do
and then put his baseball cap on my head, asking him, "Did Danny tell you
that'd you'd need another haircut in two or three weeks?" He reaches for
his hat, saying, "Yeah, why?" Pulling my head away from his hand, I go,
"That's what he told Pony too and I was just wondering if he told you
that." Rob grabs the hat off my head and gives it to Carl, mumbling, "I'm
glad this day is almost over. My fucking head is aching again and I'm
wicked tired." Whoa, grumpy! I cheerfully say, "Take a nap, Rob... chill
out, dude."

Huh, I'll be dammed!  Pony's haircut is just like Carl's. Well, they look
different because Carl's red hair isn't as dense as Pony's brown hair. I
can see some of Carl's pink scalp, other than that they are identical
haircuts. How the hell could Danny duplicate that fairly difficult haircut
on both guys so perfectly, and with Carl and Pony having very different
hair types? And I don't just mean the different color hair but the texture
and hairlines, and there's a cowlick in Carl's hair and... oh, fuck, I
couldn't do it nearly as well. I admit that... only to myself of course,
heh heh.

At the pickup, Rob gives Carl a pat on the back, mumbling, "See you at
practice tomorrow." Carl says, "Yep. Oh, and Dylan, my roommate wanted me
to tell you thanks for including him for dinner Saturday night." I nod,
"Oh, um, no problem." A little wave of his hand and Carl walks toward
dormitory row. Rob gives me a blank stare and I go, "What?" Unlocking the
pickup, he says, "Carl already told me you invited him and his roommate to
dinner Saturday night. What's up with that?"

In the pickup, I'm like, "Whaddaya mean? Carl's always eating at our place
anyway so I thought it'd be nice to give his roommate a good meal too."
Starting the engine, Rob's making a face like, 'What the fuck?' So again
I'm like, "What?" He snorts out a laugh and then drives us out of the
parking lot, mumbling "It's just, um... ah, it's weird that's all. Out of
the blue you invite Carl and his roommate to dinner. It's weird! Normally
it's like a last minute thing when we say to someone, ya know, um, ya wanna
stay for dinner?" I go, "Oh, I just remembered something... I also invited
Danny and his roommate. You know his roommate, Carl Hill, right? He's
better known by his nickname, Specks. That's convenient or there would be
two Carls ya know."

We're already off campus idling at the traffic light at Route 114. Rob
looks at me, asking, "Yeah, I know Specks. What's with you and roommates
though?" I'm like, "I was thinking we'd have an Italian dinner 'cause
that's easy for a crowd." Rob goes, "You think six guys is a 'crowd'?" I'm
like, "Oh, and Chubby's coming with his roommate, um, John Beverly. I
believe he's Chub's roommate again this year, isn't he? He said he'd make
the meatballs, Chubby said that, not John Beverly. Maybe you can do the
salad." He snorts out another laugh as he drives across Route 114, saying,
"Your brother and John Beverly for dinner too, huh?"

Pulling onto the Royal Crest grounds, he asks, "Anybody else coming to
dinner?" I go, "Hmmm, ya know, I was still hung-over this afternoon when I
got up from that nap we had. And we were definitely over-served last night
at dinner, doncha think?" Chuckling, he goes, "No, but who else is coming
to dinner." I'm like, "You'd already left for the ballpark, so..." Robby
goes, "I know what I did. I'm trying to find out what you did. Who else did
you invite to dinner Saturday night?" I go, "Did I mention Connor and his
Neanderthal roommate, Stosh?" Robby laughs out loud and then holds his
head, mumbling, "Ow, it hurts to laugh and, no, I don't believe you
mentioned anything about a Neanderthal. Anyone else?" Frowning, I mumble,
"Let's me think. I said Pony and his roommate, Donald. And..." Robby goes,
"No! No, you didn't mention those two yet either!" Now I'm snickering and
then mumbling, "I think I was still drunk..."

Pulling into a perfect front row parking spot, Robby's like, "You nut!
Counting us two that's twelve guys. We've got a small apartment... where
will everyone eat?" When we're both out of the pickup, I mutter, "You never
want to have anyone over, so..." Rob gets his arm around the back of my
neck pulling my head over to his as he's mumbling, "It'll be fun." I go,
"That's exactly what I thought you'd say," and we walk up to the front door
of the building. I punch in the password and in we go.

Keeping his arm around my neck we start going up the steps as Robby
jokingly says, "You know of course you've got a hard spanking and a hard
fucking coming, right?" I go, "Oh, fuck! Yeah, I was naughty, but another
hard spanking?" Going up the steps, he's like, "Oh yeah, there are
consequences for your actions. I might need to use my slipper to spank you
with." I go, "Oh no, not your slipper with the leather sole!" We're at the
first landing on the stairs when we see a man and woman, probably husband
and wife, looking over their shoulders at us from the top of the
stairs. Omigod, haha, they were around the bend in the stairs so we didn't
see them. Oh shit, they must have heard us fucking around saying that
nonsensical shit as we were coming up the steps. Rob looks startled when he
sees them. The couple hurries into the first apartment on the right.

Letting go of me, Rob goes, "Jesus Christ! They heard us joking around."
That makes me laugh and then blush a little. If I could just get my
blushing under control, I'd be one step closer to Chubby's attitude about,
well about everything, which is... 'fuck 'em!' It's embarrassing they heard
us talking about spanking and fucking but I've finally got the part down
where I laugh at something like that. Embarrassing, sure, but I just laugh
it off and now I need to work on the not blushing. Then, in that one
regard, I'll be just like my brother. Nah, I can't pull that off! I mutter,
"Good to almost meet our neighbors though." Robby snickers and mumbles,
"Let's get inside."

Inside the apartment, Rob's like, "Seriously though, I've gotta lay down
for an hour. I need a nap." I'm like, "Yeah well, your parents over-served
us last night no matter what you say, so we're paying the price." He
chuckles, "Yeah, I guess you're right because how the hell could it be our
fault we drank too much." Then he adds, "But seriously, you're really gonna
get it after my nap... slipper and all." I go, "Oh fuck, you mean I need to
wait until after your nap?" Robby snickers, muttering, "Afraid so, babe."

He flops down on the sofa and I sit on the arm of it, asking, "What were
you so serious about with Carl when you had him up against the wall at the
ballpark?" He makes a 'face' asking, "Um when you came into the locker
room, you mean?" I nod, and he says, "Oh Christ, I was giving him some
shit. I was being a prick telling him that he and his freshman friend,
Oscar Small, were acting like high school kids goofing around during
calisthenics and how what he does reflects on me. I was a little pissed at
him and mostly I was tired too I guess. Hell, those guys are still kids,
they're only eighteen, so..."

Huh, he really does take his mentoring job seriously. Hopping off the arm
of the sofa, I mutter, "Oh," and then add, "I think I'll make a root beer
float. Do ya want one?" Rob goes, "Please, Dylan, just let me sleep for an
hour, okay?" I go, "Well excuse me for living!" Rob mutters, "Speaking of
high school kids..." Meaning me? Heh heh, I let that slide though because
he's tired and a little irritable.

Yeah, but now I'm self-conscious about making noise as I'm putting together
my root beer float. Christ, just opening the freezer makes a sound I never
noticed before and then snapping the tab on the can of root beer makes
another sound and then I drop the ice cream scoop on the floor
'CLANG... BANG!" Looking over at Rob I'm covering my mouth snickering as I
hear him huffing. Well, he should be taking his nap in the bedroom.

Rob naps for almost two hours and then he's mister-conscientious again
anxious to make some serious headway with the report for Dickers & Son. We
order out for pizza and then work together on his part-timer's report until
eleven-thirty at night. Weirdly, I got seriously into it feeling good about
helping with this project. Rob was super appreciative that I hung in there
with him and frankly, I don't know how he thought he could do it on his
own. It's definitely a two-man job working from two different printouts and
in some cases three printouts. Rob would go cross-eyed trying to do that
alone.

Obviously, I was interested to see if my name showed up on the over-time
printouts. It didn't but neither did the names of other part-timers. The
name of the projects and the department's name 1appear on the lists with
the names of the managers who approved the expenditures, but no mention of
overpaying Dylan Newman. Mr. Dickers approved my expenditure anyway, and
nobody was going to say shit about that. Some of the other managers who
approved large amounts of overtime payments might have some explaining to
do though.

We made really good progress getting through one section of printouts but
when we started making errors it was obvious we were too tired so we wisely
stopped. Only a few hugs and kisses in bed before we both conk-out... too
tired for anything else. I didn't mind skipping sex tonight although the
joking threat of a spanking with Rob's slipper and then a hard fucking
sounded pretty good earlier. Haha, except Rob doesn't have slippers, not
with a leather sole anyway. Fortunately, Pony and I were able to fit that
quick fuck in or otherwise today would have been the first day of my senior
year without sex of any kind... horrors!

Monday mornings we have an early class so there's no time for Rob and I do
any hanky-panky and no time for breakfast this morning either. We got up
late and then this full week of classes seems to pass by in a blur.

Yeah, it seemed like MondayTuesdayWednesdayThursday getting up and going to
classes, studying and going to bed sleeping after fucking... oh, and some
food intake in between. A blur of numbing one-hour and two-hour classes,
boring professors, more working with Rob on the Dickers & Son report,
working on our next day's class assignments and the merry-go-round goes
round and round with some pop quizzes thrown in and hot sex in bed and then
start everything all over again while missing lunches, eating late dinner
until I don't know what day it is. Rob's baseball practice and...oops, no
side sex for me all week; none at all. But Rob and I do not neglect our sex
time together... so I survive.

Yeah, no side sex this week for me... no problem, not really! This week was
an aberration in that regard, a convolution of unfortunate events where
nothing worked out right for me, not in the buddy sex department
anyway. The good news is, as I inferred, Robby energetically continued
being 'my man', my lover and I gotta say he certainly enjoys that role of
being a sexy lover, even a hungry one. And I mean we're doing 'it'
enthusiastically more than once a day which makes all the other stuff
palatable and in some instances, colleges is even fun. We're enjoying
ourselves doing things together and grinning as we get our sexual
reward. The reward being each other, basically. After saying all that, I am
disappointed I didn't get to do my pretend-dominant 'topping' act with
Pony.

Neither of the two afternoons Pony and I had available to get together
worked out the way we wanted, but we'll catch up next week. Yeah, the first
afternoon we did do our running and fitness room exercises but then
couldn't do the buddy sex because Pony's roommate inexplicably and
inconsiderately was studying in their dorm room. It was the first day this
semester he didn't do his studying with his girlfriend in the library, and
then another first-time-ever event happened the second afternoon we had
'free' time together. For the first time ever, to my knowledge, the pickup
wouldn't start after Rob's and my last class. He walked to the ballpark
leaving me to sort out the pickup situation. Instead of buddy sex, Pony and
I spent the rest of that afternoon hanging around the pickup waiting for
AAA roadside assistance and then when the 'jump' didn't work we had to hang
around some more until the roadside service guy went back to the shop for a
new battery. Robby, meanwhile, was having fun at baseball practice. He
wasn't having fun when I gave him the bill for the new battery though.

So, I had zero buddy sex this week because, aside from Pony, there was no
chance for me to have lunch at the bar with John Smith and, of course,
Danny was at baseball practice with Robby. Those three boys are the full
extent of my buddy sex possibilities: Pony, Danny, and the long shot, John
Smith. It brought home to me how fragile my side sex situation actually
is. I was feeling great about my extracurricular sex so far this semester
but a week like this past week can easily occur again.  It's not anyone's
fault but if Pony, for example, caught a cold or stubbed his toe and was
out of circulation for a while I'm screwed, and I don't mean 'screwed' in a
good way. I haven't been aggressive at all in developing new side sex
possibilities and that's on me. I'm simply not motivated to be especially
alert to new possibilities. That was a younger guy's game I guess, although
if an opportunity fell in my lap...

Anyway, there was another semi-unusual thing about this past week and it's
that this has been a 'dry' one for Rob and I. Neither of us has had a
single alcoholic beverage... not one! We've stayed in every night working
on class assignments and then Rob's overtime report. We normally would have
a couple of beers to get us through the drudgery of those activities except
I refuse to pay the higher prices for booze in Taxachusetts and I haven't
felt like driving to Salem, New Hampshire. Anyway, it's not like we're
alcoholics. We've gone many weeks without drinking but it's just one more
reason this week has been different... as well as boring.

And another thing, Danny still hasn't gotten the haircut I was supposed to
give him two weeks ago. I've been looking forward to doing that because I
miss barbering and, obviously, in the back of my mind I'm hoping we'll have
a repeat performance of the afternoon he gave me my haircut. And cutting
Sonny's and Pony's hair, although there were no clippers involved, sort of
reminded me of how much I enjoy giving guy's haircuts.

So anyway, yeah, it's been an uneventful four days for me but then... today
is Friday! See, always a silver lining for an optimist like myself. The
silver lining for this boring week is that Fridays are 'off days' for Rob
and me and obviously I'm upbeat about that! Upbeat about our three day
weekend and all the possibilities inherent in every three day weekend.

We get to lie in bed Friday mornings knowing there isn't a fucking thing we
have to do this morning. I'm lying here feeling good when Robby rolls over
and grins at me. I go, "What are you grinning about, boyfriend?" He goes,
"I'm grinning about how lucky I am I get to see your cute face every time I
wake up. Hey, how do you manage to still look like a kid?" I mutter, "It's
creams and lotions, Rob. Um, and shaving once in a while as well. By the
way, when was the last time you shaved?" Obviously, I do not use creams and
lotions... or anything else. It's another one of those fortuitous gene
'things'... my youthful looks I mean.

Robby shrugs, "Hmmm, yeah, when was the last time I shaved? Jeez, I don't
know, why do you ask?" Reaching up to his face I rub my fingers across his
chin, mumbling, "Because you're beginning to look like one of those jocks
who think it's cool to be scruffy. I don't especially care for the scruffy
jock 'look'." He does his big smile and goes, "I'll shave immediately
then," and he gets up to do that. I go, "No! You don't need to do it right
now! I didn't mean..." but he's already in the hall.

He yells over his shoulder, "It'll only take three minutes, babe." Damn, I
outsmarted myself there because I actually wanted to feel his scraggly
excuse for a beard while we made-out in bed this morning. Huh, I feel my
face 'cause I can't remember the last time I shaved either. Was it
Wednesday? If it was, I'm good. I shave twice a week although I don't have
enough of a beard to grow that trendy three or four-day neatly-groomed
beard that lots of guys are rocking nowadays. I don't especially care for
that 'look' anyway. Yeah but, I'm almost as susceptible to peer pressure as
the next guy so if I could grow that sucky-looking three-day beard I
probably would. I do have a kinda cool, narrow mustache although I'm not
really a mustache kind of guy. I felt like I was wearing a costume when I
tried letting my mustache grow out. It wasn't me...

In three minutes or so Rob's back with a smooth face and reeking of
aftershave lotion. He hops in bed grinning as he's getting under the covers
and then sliding up on top of me, saying, "I brushed my teeth too." I'm
like, "Did you put fresh deodorant on?" He asks, "Do I need to?" Grinning,
I shake my head and his face drops down for a sweet kiss on my lips which
leads to twenty-seven more. We make-out while rolling around on the
mattress creating a total disaster in the covers. No talking, just some
moans as an incomprehensibly large universe begins shrinking down to just
Robby and me. Nothing else matters, only us.

We had sex last night which is lucky for me because there's lubricant left
in my ass and this morning is one of those times, recently more common than
not, that Rob isn't wasting time with fresh lube. Ya know, he's like 'we
don't need no stinking extra lubricant'. Actually, we don't when we've had
sex recently because Robby is considerate at pushing lots of lube on my
ass. I suppose it's for his comfort as well, but mostly mine.

After a few minutes of roughish foreplay, almost wrestling actually, the
head of Rob's engorged large-circumference penis is pressing against my
asshole. I'm on my back being held in place by Rob's hands on my biceps
pinning me to the mattress. My legs go up and then Rob uses his knees to
spread them and I docilely admit defeat, my legs staying spread and bent at
the knees.

Gasping from the exertion of our foreplay, Rob moves his hands to now put
pressure on the inside of my legs as he's giving me a sexily aroused
'look'. We look into each others eyes, my cock so hard it's standing
straight up as I lie here dominated and super ready to be fucked hard in
this wide open position. I can't help letting a moan of arousal slip out as
I'm staring up at Rob's face that's hovering over mine, his minty short
gasps a fine spray of moisture on my face.

His cock is so hard he doesn't need a hand guiding it as it bumps lightly
against my anus giving me shivers of anticipation. Robby looks very serious
for a second, almost teasing me with the gentle bumps against my asshole
before his hips exert a hard enough pressure to force the head of his boner
forward spreading open my asshole and then with extra pressure the head
spreads me open some more and then, "OOOOOH!" that big fat head pops inside
me with my back arching off the mattress.

Rob exhales and closes his eyes and then moans, "Ummmm," and that moan
becomes almost a whine by the end of it. He then grunts, "Umpth, oooh," and
thrusts his hips this time which forces his fat boner another two inches up
my ass and I clench my teeth and groan, and then another thrust of his hips
and his fat boner is as deep inside me as it's going to get. Rob exhales
noisily and roughly humps against my buttocks hard enough to lift my ass
off the mattress. See, that's dominance right there! He doesn't see it as
dominance but that just means he's blind to the obvious. I love it!

There's pain, sure, but I'm not concerned because I know it won't last
long. We've been fucking regularly, so frequently my anus must have gotten
stretched or toughened or something, or more likely I'm simply used to the
initial pain. What might be excruciating to most guys is almost 'Ho huh' to
me. Rob humps against my ass even harder this time and my hands grab hold
of his hips, seemingly on their own.

Letting go of my legs, Rob's hands go to my shoulders as he lifts up a
little, lifting my ass in the process, my spine curves, my legs dangling on
either side of him and Omigod I feel deliciously dominated and
submissive. It's a beautiful thing and especially now that the pain is
relaxing to allow the pleasure group of nerve endings to begin taking
over. Nice, and I sigh, "Ahhhh," and squirm under Robby. His hands go to my
shoulders and he pushes them against the mattress and humps against my
buttocks again, murmuring, "I gotcha now," and I murmur, "It feels good,
Robby." He lets up on the pressure allowing my ass to drop down a little
and my back to flatten on the mattress. In my mind it's like Robby proved
to me he was in charge and now that I know he is, he eases up a little. Rob
probably sees it entirely different thought, but I like my interpretation
of his motives for doing what he does.

I can tell from Rob's expression and from hearing his quiet moans that his
hard dick is providing him a ton of pleasure. One of the nearly perfect
things in life is both of us experiencing ultimate sexual pleasure
simultaneously. Well, it's not the 'ultimate' sexual pleasure yet but we're
building towards it, and I mean climax obviously, but the buildup is almost
as good.

Rob pulls it back and pushes his boner up my ass hard, from 'need' perhaps,
but then he waits again giving my rectum time to adjust. He wasn't
especially considerate with that fast entry but he's making up for it
now. It's not long before almost all the pain inside me has subsided. He
can start fucking whenever he wants but I don't tell him that because I
like leaving everything up to him whenever possible.

Rob closes his eyes and gets even tighter against my ass, his crotch
plastered against both my buttocks with his rock-hard fat boner totally up
inside me. I squirm under him trying to get his boner to move against my
prostate. My squirming gets Rob's eyes to open. He smiles down at me as he
humps against my buttocks hard enough to raise my ass off the mattress
again and he keeps it there for a few seconds. When I'm again lying
docilely flat on the mattress, he quietly asks, "You okay to go, babe?" I
nod and manage a little smile myself, murmuring, "Yep, Rob, I'm awesome,
babe!" He grins because I called him 'babe', then he pulls his cock back
until it's distending my anus before he shoves forcefully back up my
ass. He shoves it in so hard my back arches again and I moan at the
crescendo of pleasure coming off my prostate gland. That, plus all those
fabulous sensitive nerve endings around my asshole, millions of them, are
all happy ones now.

Two more deliberate pull-backs and hard thrusts and then with a tight grin
on his face Rob begins a hard fast fuck. He knows I like it this way and I
gotta believe he does too "SLAPSLAPSLAPSLAP" sounds erupt in the bedroom as
my head moves side to side on the pillow with my brain absorbing reams of
sexual pleasure. It's always indescribable, pretty much the same
indescribable pleasure every time we do it, but nevertheless, it always
feels fresh and 'new' somehow too. Amazing how that can be true, but it is!

This morning it's a little different in subtle ways like Rob's after-shave
scent, and his minty mouthwash scent, and his personal scent all flooding
my olfactory glands at the same time. The feel of his unique fat boner is
always an eye-opener and the feel of his body and the knowledge that we're
in love are familiar, but this morning Rob either on purpose or
accidentally has been more dominant than usual, so that's slightly
different. He's got me in this submissive position and... well, all those
things combined make this a memorable experience that's different, a little
different than last time we fucked.  Whatever, it's nearly perfect every
time we fuck; every time we make love. Making love is a wonderful euphemism
for our sex. That's true, although not always an appropriate euphemism. For
us, yeah, but not for two random people having random sex. They're not
making love... they're fucking. My side sex isn't making love either, but
Rob and me fucking... that's making love.

And then there's nature's genius of including the ultimate pleasure
experience during sex... orgasmic climax. That genius invention has ensured
the continuation of our species. Hell, it's worked to the tune of seven
billion humans presently on earth plus, unfortunately, it's also worked for
lots of less useful living things like mosquitoes and ants and mice. This
sexual pleasure is also enjoyed by those of us who aren't necessarily into
the continuation of our species. And I don't mean just us gay guys and
girls either, but those who fuck heterosexually with protection against
procreation... or heterosexuals who do anal sex. It is puzzling that nature
evolved a super-pleasure center like our prostate gland making the rectum a
pleasure zone too. Yeah, why'd she do that I wonder? Maybe just to be sure.
Whatever, it was very considerate.

I'm not wondering about any of that now though... no, now I'm wondering how
the hell is it possible to feel this amount of pleasure every time Rob
fucks me? It's like a revelation every single time... like I said, it's the
same but there's something new every time too! Um, not that something a
little different is a problem. It's a miracle, is what it is. But, oh no, I
can tell Rob's climax button just got punched. He's become frantic to
climax and, oh boy, now his thrusting is even harder and faster with a
desperate feel to it which is contagious and shortly I hear a whining sound
of desperation leaving my throat. Omigod, my climax just lit up too and
it's a race to orgasmic pleasure now.

The constant movement of Rob's fat hard boner in my stretched rectum
touches everything it should and everything it touches vibrates with sexual
pleasure. Rob's abandoned his hold on my shoulders a while ago and is now
back keeping my legs spread with a hand on each of my knees as he trusts
wildly. My arms, again seemingly on their own, reach up to hold onto the
back of his neck now and then my fingers intertwine to pull Rob's head down
for a wet and sloppy, teeth-scraping kiss as he makes a quiet whining noise
himself and I'm guessing his building climax has reached the tipping
point. I know from experience that the seconds before we blast out a
fantastic climax there's such an intense 'knowing' between us it's almost a
little scary. The unbelievable intensity is almost scary just before the
incredible overload of sensations create CLIMAX!  The otherworldly wonder
of it is spectacular!

Our climaxes apparently were building at the same rate of speed with my
arms going tightly around Rob's neck now pulling his head side by side with
mine, his hands now on the mattress on either side of me and we can
experience this 'miracle' almost as one. His hips are seemingly on
autopilot, my eyes are closed in anticipation of something otherworldly
and, oh man, I want this to happen like I've never wanted anything to
happen before in my life...and then with a squeal and a full body spasm...
BOOOOM!... we climax together. For me, it's fireworks and pinwheels and
skyrockets all combined... Wheeeee!! Whoooooa!! The fourth of July, times a
hundred...

Yeah, recently we've been climaxing at the same time! Our bodies mimic each
other as both get very taut with every muscle clenching and there's this
feeling of electricity zipping back and forth between us for a millisecond
before our eruptions and then the previously mentioned startlingly bright
lights seemingly burst in my head like the brightest most beautiful
fireworks in the world and the steaming pleasure that increases to a
ridiculous level for a split second before spreading out all around my cock
and groin... the pleasure quickly spreading out all over me. It makes me
shake and shudder during that incredible four or five or six seconds of
intense pleasure, an intensity like nothing else can match. It's really
startling, exciting... basically a surreal experience. You should try it!

The first burst of pleasure is too enormous to describe and then like I
said, it spreads out incredibly fast even as a second blast of cum fires
from my steel boner and that mostly finishes off my latest orgasm, my
favorite orgasm of my life, but then I've had that same thought about every
orgasm I've ever had. I'm aware of Rob's reaction a little bit before
climax and so I know it's similar to what I'm experiencing but at climax
for those five to eight seconds I only care about my orgasm. Then I'm again
aware of Rob's after-climax reaction. My brain is barely able to handle the
input overload of what I'm experiencing PLUS what my sex partner is
experiencing during the exhilarating moments of blastoff.

Yep, it's four, five, and sometimes even seven or eight seconds of being in
a height of sexual pleasure impossible to describe, me in my own perfect
world but climaxes fade to comprehensible levels quickly. I think I felt
his first steam of cum hit inside me this time maybe half a second before
my climax took over my brain completely. Or perhaps I only imagined what it
'should' feel like. Whatever, my shoulders are still shuddering a few
seconds after climax, mostly at the zipping after-effect sensations buzzing
in my ass and around my groin. They're nice too and have me shivering
deliciously for those couple of extra moments. Ahhh, fading reminders of
the power of my latest climax compliments of my hot lover.

Robby's dealing with the after-effects of his climax bomb as he's pushing
against my ass so hard now he's lifting my lower half up off the mattress
again, my spine curving up before his body finally relaxes and with a long
sigh we both sort of get limp. The sex build-up to climax goes on for
indeterminate amounts of time but from climax to the after effects, it not
long at all. Our memory of the intensity of it, however, makes us want to
do it again.

Our bodies are still together, a little damp with perspiration, our
hammering hearts slowing down plus there's always a lot of effort put into
breathing deeply and... I feel wonderful. There's silence for half a minute
and then I hear a chuckle from Rob before he says, "Holy shit, Dylan, I
thought it'd be impossible to climax harder than I did the last time...but
I did climax harder just now. Haha, I think pretty much that same thing
every time we make love together." Jeez, that's a version of me thinking
about my latest climax being my favorite of all time, the best one I've
ever had.

Rob begins disengaging from my clutching arms as he leans up from my chest
and then slowly slides off me pulling his sloppy penis out of my ass,
'Ahhhh." He lies over on his back next to me as I mutter, "Oh," as his wet
dick drags across my leg and then I take another deep breath before,
mumbling, "That was really good." Going up on my side I look down at Rob
and say, "You're hot, you know that, Rob? You my man!" He grins nodding his
head, muttering, "Yeah, I'm your man alright. What's for breakfast?" Ha,
that sure as hell wasn't lover's sex we just had in, case ya didn't
know. We made love doing recreational sex and now that it's over Rob wants
to know what's for breakfast. Mumbling, "How romantic," I hop off the bed
feeling really good, saying, "Hey, c'mon and help me clean your sperm off
my freakin' ass."

He groans and rolls over to look at me as he mutters, "Absolutely, baby,
whatever you say," and he leaps out of bed seemingly in one motion. With a
smile, he gets right next to me, asking, "Isn't this the best, Dylan? Us
living together and screwing whenever we want." I mumble, "Uh huh," and
then in the bathroom, while taking I piss, I'm like, "Ya know, Robby, you
always tell me the same thing after we have sex." He stands behind me as
I'm peeing and puts his arms around me and then kisses the side of my neck,
mumbling, "I say it because it's always true. This is the best situation
imaginable!"

Letting go of me Rob stands next to me and starts pissing as I ask, "Have
you given any more thought to us doing a little urine play? You could have
taken this piss up my ass. There'd be nothing I could do about it." He
mutters, "Hey, babe, don't be gross."

At the sink washing my hands, I'm like, "Why don't you fix breakfast for us
this morning?" He goes, "Sure, if you want Froot Loops and coffee, no
problem." I say, "Ya know what? I'm gonna take a shower," and I turn on the
water, adding, "We're naked anyway, ya know?" Rob mumbles, "Good idea," and
we both step over the edge of the tub as he asks, "Seriously, babe, I'm
hungry. What's for breakfast?"

We don't have sex in the shower this time, and we don't have Froot Loops
for breakfast either. I cook breakfast sausages, home fries, fried eggs
over easy, and toast while Rob makes our coffees and then reads sports
blogs on his cell phone, He reads out loud to me whatever he finds
interesting. That's not my favorite thing... Rob reading parts of sports
articles to me. I go, "Oh" or 'Huh" or "Jesus, really?" depending on what I
think goes with what he's reading to me. It's not my favorite thing but I
don't say anything about it because he likes to do it and I'm sure there
are little things I do that aren't Robby's favorite things and he doesn't
say anything about those either. Give and take, that's the way you do it!

Having Fridays free makes it my favorite of the three day weekends because
it almost feels like we're getting away with something. After breakfast, we
go to the bookstore for blue books. We had some left over from last year
but we used them on pop quizzes. I know from past shopping experiences with
Robby, blue books are not the only thing he'll buy because he, unlike
myself, likes to shop. He likes to buy shit even when he doesn't need it.

We're in the bookstore for over an hour with Rob buying various clothing
items with the Merrimack logo on it. He tells me, "Babe, we'll want to wear
our Merrimack shit for years after graduating. Ya never lose your college
connection. It's part of you forever." I mumble, "Uh huh," and he excitedly
adds, "Oh, look here Dylan, this sweatshirt is so cool!" I glance over as
Rob adds, "Okay, here's one my size. Let's look for another 'medium' for
you." Rolling my eyes, I go, "Robby, I have a half dozen Merrimack
sweatshirts." He goes, "They changed them a little this year," and I go,
"Yeah, they change them a little every year so nuts like you will buy them
even though you already have a closet full of them." He goes, "Omigod, look
at that cool hat!" He has a dozen Merrimack baseball caps already.

My attention is diverted to this cute guy who looks older than a freshman
but he looks lost, so he probably is a freshman. Hmmm, I walk over and ask,
"Need some help?" Shaking his head, he mumbles, "Nope, I'm good." He must
have just gotten a haircut and, Omigod, it looks sort of like mine. Wow!
Nice light brown hair too. I say, "Just browsing, huh?" He looks up and
without smiling, says, "Sort of, yeah, and I prefer doing it alone if you
don't mind." Huh, it's good to know I've still got the old magic. Resisting
the urge to immaturely say, 'Well, fuck you then' I settle for saying it in
my head. Anyway, he has some acne scars that I didn't notice from a
distance. Plus, bad teeth, so he isn't so cute after all.

Huh, ya know, that applies to a lot of things. I mean, from a distance a
person might look cool or hot, or maybe not a person but an idea at first
seems like a good one. The closer you get to the person or the idea though,
the less appealing it becomes. Not always but sometimes, ya know? Oh fuck,
that's gotta go in my book when I get around to writing it. Very deep
psychological shit right there.

Rob's finally done 'shopping' and after putting $213.00 worth of stuff he
doesn't need and might never wear on his credit card we leave the bookstore
with Robby saying, "I know you've got to watch your spending and all that
so I bought a couple of things for you. You know, for Christmas gifts." I
smile, "Thanks, Robby. That's sweet." It is sweet, but dumb too. Harmless
sweetness, I guess that's the best way to put it. I go, "Here, let me help
carry that stuff."

We stop in at the Quad for a hot chocolate and right inside the door a guy
grabs my arm, saying, "Hey, you're Dylan, right." He's an average size guy
with a swarthy complexion and a very large nose. I nod and he points to my
head, saying, "I wasn't sure... new haircut, huh?" Jesus, I think I know
this guy but I'm not sure how I know him. I do what I always do and smile
first, and then ask, "I'm sorry but, um, do I know you?" Rob gives a look
at me and then at this guy, and says, "I'll get us a couple of hot
chocolates, Dylan."

As I nod, acknowledging I heard Rob, big nose grabs the arm of a cute blond
kid pulling him up next to us, and says, "I'm Mark! Mark Colvechio,
remember? And this is Paul Mathews. We're Ponti's friends... you gave free
haircuts to us last year," and he points to another guy, saying, "And him
too, Ryan Flynn." Slowly nodding my head with a slight grin on my face, I
go, "Oh yeah. I did your haircuts, um, twice I think." This guy, Mark,
thinks he's conning some stooge, meaning me, as he says, "Yep, the best
haircuts we ever had too! Um," and then he chuckles, adding, "As you can
see we need haircuts in the worse way."

Oh yeah, I remember this wise-ass and especially that Ryan guy. He was the
quiet one but in a surly sort of way. Paul, though, he's the one I remember
the best and not just because he's a cute blond. No, I remember thinking,
and I was sure about this, that he has a haircut fetish like mine. I
recognized it as I was cutting his hair. It was the way he moved his hips
under the cape. Ya know, like he was either shooting off or he felt like he
was going to cum. Yeah, that kid is the only person I've ever run into who
I think has a haircut fetish.

Glancing over at Robby who is just sitting down at a table with our hot
chocolate drinks, I have an urge to accommodate these guys except I only
like the one guy; the one with a haircut fetish kid. The other two are
smart-ass, um, juniors. The three of them are a 'package' deal though, so I
say, "Jeez, sorry but I'm not doing haircuts this year," and then I give
them Danny's cell phone number... heh heh. Mark thanks me about as
insincerely as it's possible to thank someone. The other two never say a
word and actually had the common decency to act embarrassed at Mark's phony
bullshit. Mark's so-called 'thank you' was more like dismissing me as
useless after I'd given him the number of another 'free' campus
barber. Asshole!

As I'm walking to Rob I recall that Pony didn't actually even know those
guys. Or I should say, he wasn't 'friends' with them. Last year he had a
class with large-nose, who overheard Pony and me talking about me doing his
haircut or something. Anyway, I guess he has big balls in addition to a big
nose because the next time he saw me he told me that 'friends with Pony'
bullshit. When I sit down with Rob, of course, he asks, "Who the fuck are
those guys?" I tell him and he laughs, saying, "Omigod, Danny's getting
more guys wanting free haircuts than Golden ever got last year." I shrug,
"Danny's giving better haircuts... that's why."

We sit in the Quad drinking two cups of hot chocolate each as we talk about
this and that with me again enjoying listening to Robby's boyish-sounding
voice. It's so smooth, his voice is, and very pleasant and easy to listen
to. I do wonder though when Rob becomes some big-deal manager or vice
president at Dickers & Son ten years from now or something will he be taken
seriously because of his boyish voice. I mean taken as seriously as he
would be if he had a macho gruff authoritative voice. Fuck it though,
actions speak louder than words, right? He'll be fine, plus his father owns
the fucking company, so...

Now he's telling me how much he likes mentoring Carl and how he also likes
Carl as a person. That's not always the case though. A senior baseball
player named, Bret Small, for example, is mentoring a freshman pitcher who
is arrogantly obnoxious and no fun mentoring at all... and then, stopping
his story abruptly, Rob looks worried, asking me, "What time is it, Dylan?"
I look at my watch and say, "Quarter to three," and Rob gets up, saying,
'Shit! I was supposed to be at practice early today." I stand up too,
mumbling, "You will be early. It'll take us five minutes to get there."
Walking quickly out of the Quad, Rob's saying, "Yeah, but I wanted to be
there much earlier than this."

Rob wants me to drive to the ballpark so he can jump out at the front
entrance. And sure enough, at the ballpark he opens the door before I even
come to a complete stop and hops out, saying, "Thanks, babe. I'll text you
later." I go, "Sure," and he's off running and then hopping over the low
brick wall and through the gate. Is it possible to be too conscientious?

Oh well, um, what do I feel like doing now? Backing up and turning the
pickup around I see Danny slowly walking from dormitory row. I freeze to
gawk at him. He's with two other guys, Danny's talking to one of them a
mile a minute and then he reaches over and lifts up the front of the skinny
kid's bangs for a second. The kid pushes Danny's hand away, but he's
grinning and shaking his head saying something. Danny does an elaborate
shrug and starts talking again. Jesus, he must be trying to convince that
kid he needs a flattop, or some kind of a haircut. I can't imagine why
Danny's so hopped-up about being a barber. It was like overnight that he
became gung-ho about barbering. I'm not jealous about it or anything, just
saying it's a little strange...

All three of those guys are baseball players I'm guessing since they're
heading right for the ballpark entrance. Then Danny must have recognized
the pickup out of the corner of his eye because he suddenly looks over. I'm
just sitting here with the truck idling. I give him a little wave and he
says something to his friends and jogs right over to the pickup. As usual,
he's all smiles and, fuck, I've still got a serious 'thing' for him
apparently as my dick feels sort of 'active' in my pants.

Rolling down the window, I yell, "Hey, stranger!" He comes right up to the
window and says, "Dylan, don't you look especially," and he looks around
quickly before adding, "Um, cute today. Did you just drop Rob off?" I go,
"No, I've been sitting here all day hoping you'd walk by." He laughs harder
than that comment warrants, and then says, "I had two classes this morning
so it must have been a long wait for you."

Jesus, I hope he knows I was kidding. Ya never know with Danny, so I
mutter, "No, you were right, I just dropped Rob off. Hey, get this, I
directed three guys to you for haircuts. I gave them your cell phone
number." He says, "Thanks, dude! That must be who called me just before I
left the dorm. Hey, guess what... my roommate, you know, Specks. Well, he
usually goes to Worchester on weekends but he's gonna stay here for your
dinner party tomorrow night." I'm like, "Oh, yeah?" and he says, "Yeah,
he'll go home early Sunday morning," and, with a bright expression, he
adds, "Hey, I've missed you, baby," and I mutter, "Don't call me that,
okay?"

Someone calls over, "You're gonna be late again, Monday!" and we both look
over at a big goofy-looking guy who's going into the building. Danny
mumbles, "That was Salvouchie, Bill Salvouchie. What a loser he is!" I
shrug and Danny goes, "Hey, Dylan, when the fuck are we gonna, um, you
know, get together?" I shrug, "That's mostly up to you, big guy. Hey, you
still haven't gotten a haircut, so how about this Sunday? Ya know, I'll
tell Rob I'm giving you a haircut and then I'll cruise on over." He makes a
'face' mumbling, "Oh man, Sunday, huh?" I go, "Yeah, it's perfect! The
haircut is a perfect reason for me to spend some time in your room." Taking
a big inhale, he goes, "Yeah, but ya see, I've got this touch football game
Sunday with the guys. Jeez though, Specks will be heading home Sunday
morning, and so my dorm would be available, yeah... hmmm? Jeez, I don't
know though, there's the football game, ya know?"

Well, fuck, he's the one who asked when we could get together. I didn't
bring it up! I'm pissed, saying, "Well, for chrissakes, don't fucking ask
me when we're gonna get together and then when I suggest a perfect
opportunity, like Sunday, you tell me you've got a touch football
game. Christ, a touch football game, seriously?" Yeah, I guess I'm
irritated he'd rather play touch football then... oh, the hell with it.

Danny pats my arm through the pickup window, looking serious now, saying,
"Yeah, that was stupid of me, baby. Don't be mad though. Sure, I'd much
rather be with you. So, yep, Sunday it is then! I'll text you. Well, hell,
I'll see you tomorrow night, won't I?" I can't help but break out with a
big smile, mumbling, "Yeah, I guess you will see me tomorrow night." He
goes, "Fuck, Dylan, now I'm excited!" He backs away, saying, "I gotta go,
but Sunday it is!" Nodding my head, I'm smiling, saying, "Yeah, okay
then... Sunday." I watch him smoothly run into the building, without
jumping over the brick wall.

Pushing at my dick, adjusting it in my pants, I'm thinking, 'Fuck, I still
got it bad for Danny and that's actually a very mysterious thing too... my
never-ending crush on him.' Driving away, I rub my face realizing how
wicked disappointed I was for a second there when he turned down my
suggestion... 'cause he'd rather play in some pick-up, ad hoc touch
football game, Jesus! He actually for a second was thinking he'd rather do
that than have some buddy sex with me? Jesus, what an ego crusher! Oh man
though, I can't get that Sunday afternoon we spent together off my mind.
Omigod, it was magical buddy sex all afternoon, that's what that was. I
mean in the annals of buddy sex it doesn't get any better than Danny's
performance that Sunday. And he was hung-over too! Jeezuss!

Oh fuck, he'll probably be hung-over again this Sunday too. I mean after
Saturday night. Well, maybe he's at his best when he's hung-over. Okay, heh
heh, yeah, I'm wicked stoked about this! Okay, that's uber good for sure,
but what am I gonna do now? I start driving to the apartment but before I
even get off campus my cell phone rings. I pull over to the side of the
road and get my phone out of my pocket and see Chubby's caller ID. Oh good!

I go, "Hi Chubby!" and he says, "How ya doing, bro?" and I'm like, "I'm
good. Whassup?" He asks, "Do you know anything about the Savonarola and
Italian Renaissance or the errors of Malthusian economics?" Huh? I mutter,
"Um, not a lot, no." He says, "Fuck! I should probably think about skipping
this next class then." I mumble, "Oh, that's too bad." Chub goes, "Hmmm, if
only I had a compelling reason to skip it... um, skip it again I mean." I
go, "Well, we could go food shopping and then make the meatballs for
tomorrow night's dinner." He says, "Jesus, yeah! That qualifies as
compelling, right? I'll pick you up in ten minutes."

After telling Chubby I'm already on campus, he says, as if it's an obvious
solution, "Oh, well then, drive to your apartment. We'll take our car and
you can drive." I go, "Oh, okay. Um, I forget... does our car have an
automatic transmission? I'm rusty at driving a stick shift." He laughs, and
then says, "Haha... good one, brother! I'll meet you at your place." Chub
knows when I'm joking. The honest to God truth is I don't really care that
I hardly ever drive our car. I've got Robby's truck at my disposal whenever
I need it... and Chubby needs a car. He paid for two-thirds of it anyway,
and I know I could use it any time I want. That's a perfect arrangement!

As I'm parking the pickup at the apartment the thought occurs to me that
Chubby might not remember how to get here. He's been here twice but this
year our apartment building is kinda tricky to find. While thinking that
thought I hear a horn toot and there's Chubby in our green Kia Soul
grinning and waving at me. I get out and lock the pickup while Chub gets
out and we hug. He kisses me and says, "Oh man, I did not want to go to
that class this afternoon! I just knew if I called my brother he'd have the
absolutely perfect reason for me to blow it off. You never let me down,
Dylan," and he kisses me again.

I'm like, "It's cool you called me, Chub. We don't see enough of each
other." He nods, "That's an understatement big brother but, oh man, thanks
for coming up with an authentic reason why I couldn't go to that dumb-ass
class." I'm like, "Yeah? Um, maybe I should write an excuse note for you to
give to the professor. You know, explaining the situation?" Chubby chuckles
and mumbles, "I don't think she takes attendance. I'm not really sure
though 'cause I've only made one of Professor Turkle's classes so far this
semester. It was the very first class and I guess I wasn't paying attention
all that closely."

I'm like, "Oh, you had other compelling reasons to skip it, huh?" He
chuckles and mutters, "Yeah, I thought I felt a toothache coming on and
then another time there were unforeseen circumstances and... oh, hell,
forget all that, bro. C'mon, you drive our new car." Nodding, I get in the
driver seat of the Kia, adding, "Oh boy, this is nice!" Chub's busy pushing
fast food wrappers off the passenger seat and then gets in saying
enthusiastically, "You'll love it, bro. She rides great!" There's something
under my foot and it turns out to be a plastic cup. Picking it up I smell
beer. Chub grabs it and tosses it out the window, mumbling, "I told that
bitch not to throw her cup in the car."

Chub left the car running so I merely put it in 'drive' and away we go with
me exclaiming, "Sweet!" Grinning at me he nods his head and asks, "Do you
have a list of what we need to get at Stop & Shop?" I go, "Oh, um, no, but
I didn't expect to be food shopping." Chub says, "Well, we never had a
shopping list for the thousand Sunday brunches we made for the moms. No
problem! Um, it's gonna be an Italian dinner, right?" I nod, "Uh huh," and
Chub goes, "I love me some Italian dinner!"

Chub's got a lot of positive energy. As I brake at the light on Route 114,
I ask, "Gee, Chub, any special reason you've only been to that Friday
afternoon class once?" He goes, "Yes, there is. I don't like it." I'm like,
"Uh huh," and he adds, "Anyway, there's this girl, Sandra, who takes notes
for me. I've got a deal with her that...." I interrupt, asking, "You're
dating her, huh?" He goes, "Fuck no! She's like ten feet tall. I've got a
deal with her though. I sweet-talked her a little bit and she's taking
notes for me until midterms and then I'll take notes for her after
that. That's fair, right?" Shrugging, I go, "Well, yeah, um, if you
actually intend doing that. I mean, after the midterm exam." He goes,
"Jesus, bro, I haven't totally thought it through all the way... not that
far yet anyway. Hey, I've been wondering about this... are we generation
'Y' or are we Millennials?" I'm like, "What? Oh, wait... I know what you
mean. I think anyone born after 1980 and all through the 90's is generation
"Y' and before that, they're generation 'X'. You know, our parents I
guess. Or is it our grandparents who are called baby boomers? He goes, "I
don't fucking know... and who came up with these, um, titles? And what are
the babies born in this century called?" I go, "Yeah, I don't know that
either. It's all fucked anyway." Chub goes, "Oh man, I'll need to look that
up as an awesome factoid. Great conversation starter for picking up babes,
ya know?" I nod, "Yeah, I suppose..."

We park at Stop and Shop and Chub goes, "Oh boy, this brings back memories,
huh Dylan? You and me shopping at Framingham's Stop & Shop for brunch all
those years." I nod, "Yeah, it brings a tear to my eyes thinking about all
those wonderful times we had together." Actually, it almost does cause a
tear as I look at my brother with a million loving memories flooding past
my brain. When the world was young, ya know...

On impulse, I give Chubby a big hug right outside the front door of Stop &
Shop and he says, "Ya know, Dylan, I'm pretty sure I've told you this
before but nothing could be truer, so it's worth repeating. I meet a lot of
guys and girls and hang out with them but I've never met anyone I like as
much as I like you, and forget about me ever finding anyone I could love
one-tenth the way I love you." He said that so matter of fact I'm like, "I,
um, oh Chub! Ah, um, no one could say anything that means as much to me as
you saying that. Thank you and you know I have such a special love for you,
it's impossible for me to even descr..." and someone says, "Excuse us! I
hate to break up your reunion, but I'm trying to get into the store... "
Damn, I've been blocking doorways all day!

Chubby and I both turn and see a woman with a dog, a bull terrier on a
leash. She's a big woman, probably in her fifties. Wow, a large head on her
too and with huge hair... a pumpkin head with a too-big wig on it. The
woman has a silly-looking plaid doggy sweater on the pooch and the dog is
straining on the leash trying hard not to go into the store. The dog's
little piggy eyes look embarrassed about his outfit, but that's probably
anthropomorphism on my part. Chubby goes, "Your dog doesn't appear to be
pleased with its sweater and I don't believe dogs are allowed in the store
anyway, so..." The woman huffs at us, yanks on the dog's leash and stomps
past us brushing both of our shoulders in the process. Chub goes, "Have a
nice day..."

Jeez, that was awkward. I mean, that woman hearing our sentiments and all
that. I know Chubby's not embarrassed though. We follow the big woman and
her dog into the grocery store with Chubby saying, "I didn't mean to get
all maudlin on you a minute ago, brother, but I meant every word I
said. I'm probably never going to fall in love because I'll be comparing my
feelings to our brotherly love, which probably can't be matched... not in
my mind." I go, "Chub you make me feel so good, but you'll fall in love
with some girl someday. I know you will." He shrugs, "I don't think so but
I'm not worried about it, Dylan. Um, shall we start at the meat counter?"

Wow, I still feel a little discombobulated after that wonderful sentiment
from Chubby. He's right too... I mean about him telling me before how he
feels about me, how he loves me but it always catches me off guard and then
I feel totally inadequate responding to his loving sentiments. Jesus, from
the time Chubby learned to talk, and that was at a very early age, he's
always come right out and said whatever the fuck he's thinking, and no
matter how startling it might have been, he moves on like its no big deal.

Chubby grabs a shopping cart, one of the smaller ones and as he pushes it
down the aisle, he says, "Oh, by the way, I'm paying for everything today
Dylan, so please don't give me any shit about that. I need to pay for this
and do a lot more this year because I feel guilty that you hardly ever get
to drive our car." I go, "Huh, what..." and he says, "Hmmm, we'll need
different kinds of meat. Yeah, pork ribs, Italian sausages, breakfast
sausages, hamburger, ground veal, and ground pork. Right?" I say, "Oh, you
mean for the meatballs? Yes, that's right... breakfast sausages go in with
the hamburger, ground pork, and veal along with many other things for your
famous meatballs." He nods and adds, "And then pork ribs will add awesome
flavor to our spaghetti sauce or as the Italian's call it... gravy."

Yeah, I knew that. It's funny how I've known Chubby every second he's been
alive and yet he can still overwhelm me sometimes. I mean, I'm still
thinking about him expressing his brotherly love like that. It came out of
the blue and now him insisting he's paying for my dinner party and he'll
probably cook most of it too. It's like he goes too fast sometimes, and
with a confidence in everything he says or does too! He has the confidence
I'm always musing that I like to see in my sex partners. Huh, I wonder if
subconsciously I've been looking all my life for a life partner who's
exactly like my brother? Could that be?

And then I wonder about Chub's female conquests; the girls he has sex
with. Are they attracted to Chubby's charismatic confidence and glibness?
Do they beg him... 'Fuck me, Jeffrey.' I wouldn't be surprised if they did!

Chubby goes, "You okay, bro, or are you just thinking about stuff?" He
knows I space out once in a while. I'm like, "I'm fine, Chub, but you don't
need to pay. Please don't! This is my dinner party. Rob didn't even know I
invited everyone until afterward." Chub's examining vacuum sealed packages
of baby back ribs, asking, "How many of these do you think we should get,
bro?" We buy a lot of everything and he pays... $159.48 for everything
which is a lot for an Italian dinner but not bad when you consider its
dinner for twelve. I should know better than expect Chubby to acknowledge
my plea about him not paying for the dinner. He always does what he says he
will when it involves me. Everyone else is on their own.

After we load the bags of groceries in the backseat, Chubby gets me to stop
at McLoons package store, saying, "I'll only be a second, Dylan." It's more
than 'a second', as in ten minutes, and then he comes out with a case of
Rolling Rock cans on his shoulder and a bottle of Wild Turkey in his
hand. The booze goes in the backseat with the bags of groceries and as Chub
sits down in the passenger seat, I start to object but he puts his fingers
on my lips, saying, "No! Don't say a word, brother. You know I'd be
bringing booze to the party whether it's BYOB or not, and this particular
booze is for us as we make killer meatballs and spaghetti sauce." I go,
"Chubby!" but I know he's gonna do what he wants... and the really good
part of this is that there's no John Beverly today. I can't help but notice
that.

I also can't help grinning at Chubby, mumbling, "Thanks, Chubby," and as I
drive up away from the package store, he pats my shoulder exclaiming, "This
is so much fun, Dylan. I can hardly wait to make some spaghetti sauce from
scratch and then some of my special meatballs! Hey, we forgot hot cherry
peppers..." No, we didn't.

At the apartment I act as the sous chef for Chubby and laugh my ass off at
his funny ways and funny way of saying stuff. We also drink shots of Old
Grandad, chasing them down with gulps of Rolling Rock beer. It takes a
couple of hours to finish everything and then we're on the balcony smoking
when Robby finally texts me that he's sorry practice ran late again but
he's ready to go now. The apartment smells awesome from sautéing the
meatballs and now the simmering spaghetti sauce. It's been an absolutely
awesome afternoon.

Chub has a date tonight so we leave together; him in the Kia and me in the
pickup. On my way to pick up Robby, I'm thinking about Chub and me laughing
so hard I had tears running down my face. Chub's observations about
everything, Omigod, too funny! The outrageous things he says with a
straight face and with his comedic timing... or whatever it is, it all
makes him so fucking funny and fun. Oh man, my brother Chubby!

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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