Date: Sat, 25 May 2019 02:01:49 +0000 (UTC)
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter. 46

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter. 46

by  Donny Mumford


The beep, beep, beep sound in my dream would probably wake a person up if
it was real. Oh, it did wake me up, it is real. Okay, I'm not dreaming but
why the fuck I'm in the living room? I'm confused for only a brief
second. Yeah, I remember now. I'm half on the sofa and half on Danny
because he slept over last night to keep me company. I wouldn't let him
sleep in Rob's and my bed so before I knew it Danny had us both sleeping on
the sofa. Rob's at home helping his dad, so I figured why not a sleep-over
with Danny? I've sort of fantasized about doing that but never expected I'd
actually get the chance.

Yeah, and I'm partially lying on him because this sofa isn't meant to be a
bed. It's not a convertible sofa. We're sleeping on the cushions of a
regular sofa that's not big enough for two guys to sleep on! The beeping is
coming from Danny's cell phone alarm, beep, beep, beep. And, yeah, it's
annoying.

We got to sleep around midnight and now it's seven-thirty so that was a
fairly good night's sleep even in this position. Danny's lying on his back
and me on my stomach, half my chest on the sofa and half on Danny's chest
with my left leg between his legs and the side of my head partially on the
pillow and partially on his shoulder. It doesn't sound particularly
comfortable but it is.

I carefully moved my left arm a few seconds ago to see the time and Danny
didn't move. Now I slowly lift my leg out between his legs and he opens his
eyes, mumbling, "If you're not going to cancel that wake-up beeping, please
hand the phone to me." "Beep, beep, beep," sounds continue as I'm like,
"Where is it?" He looks over toward the beeping sound, and says, "Um, I
think I dropped it on my clothes there on your side of the bed, um, your
side of the sofa."

"Beep, beep, beep," as I push up off his sexy body to reach blindly over
the edge of the sofa as Danny's looking at me with an expression of
annoyance. It's his fucking phone! Oh wow though, annoyed or not he's so
youthful and delicious looking. Jeez, how is it possible for him to look so
yummy first thing in the morning? I like that his hair has grown out the
past two months. It's thick and wavy and a nice shade of brown... nice
hair.

My hand hits his pile of clothes and moves around feeling for that beeping
phone. I can't help but grin at this cute motherfucker who I'm still
partially lying on. Danny doesn't grin back. Instead, he appears to be more
annoyed as he's exaggeratingly nodding his head in the direction of the
beeping sound... beep, beep, beep. Where is that fucking cell phone?

My hand drags over his clothes again and bumps over his jeans, and then his
phone. Passing the cell phone to Danny, he taps it and the beeping
stops. Danny gives me a 'look' that I interpret as disapproval so I'm like,
"What'd I do?" He mutters, "Couldn't you have handled that beeping phone
yourself, like three minutes ago?" Oh, Danny's grumpy when he first wakes
up, huh. I didn't know that. The things you learn about a person when you
sleep with them.

I mumble, "Sorry," and he hands the phone to me and closes his eyes,
muttering, "I need another ten minutes sleep." Well call me crazy but that
didn't sound like a prelude to the best lover's sex I've ever had in my
life as he bragged I'd be getting first thing this morning. No problem
because I don't want Danny's so-called lover's sex first thing this
morning, or any other time for that matter. I much prefer buddy sex when
I'm with Danny, although Mr. Grumpy here might not be coming through with
any kind of sex.

After dropping his phone on top of his pile of clothes, I lie back down
like I was before, which is to say with me lying partially on Danny's chest
with the side of my face on his shoulder. Danny's spread out on his back
which severely limits my options for fitting on this sofa and therefore I
need to use his body as part of the sofa. He's not objecting.

After a little squirming to get comfortable, I settle down with Danny's
left arm under me. I sigh and try going back to sleep but a minute later he
says, "Scoot up on my chest a little more," and when I lift up slightly he
pulls his arm out. With my cock firming up, I do what he said and without
opening his eyes, Danny murmurs, "Thanks, baby, my arm was going to
sleep. You're good now though," and he lays his arm on my back, mumbling,
"Go back to sleep." Jeez, he turns me on without him even trying. I get off
on the way he's comfortable telling me what to do. It gets my cock so hard
it feels as if my foreskin is about to rip.

It's funny but Robby and I in bed are often in similar positions to the one
I'm in with Danny. I think I've become addicted to being taken care of,
or... how to say this? I mean, when I'm partially on the guy I'm sleeping
with and he puts his arm over my back or shoulders it's like he's being
protective of me... taking care of me. I don't know, it's something like
that.

Of course, on this sofa, it's impossible not to be on top of each
other. And, like Robby, Danny has a great body and a nice sexy natural
scent to his skin which makes it an extra pleasurable experience for
me. They have similar skin too... pale whitish/barely/pinkish skin-tone
with no body hair to speak of, and it's youthful and taut and, yeah,
sexy. Taut skin and taut bodies, that's what I'm talking about. They both
know I'm gonna be the one to be snuggling with them, and they provide the
protective arm around me. And, hell, I'm probably responsible for both of
them taking this arrangement for granted because I just naturally snuggle
up to them. They don't have much choice in the matter when you get right
down to it.

Yeah, I like treating my boyfriends like they're 'the man' or 'my
man'... whatever. Hell, I did a similar thing with my brother for seventeen
years... protect me and take care of me Chubby! Heh heh, yeah that was so
perfect. And not only with Chubby, Rob, and Danny. Nope, I created the same
dynamic between me and all my important buddy sex partners. I said 'all'
when actually there have only been two other important buddy sex buddies of
mine... Willie and Ryan. I've loved them all at times but in different ways
and for different reasons. They've all said they love me too, although I'm
certain only my boyfriend of record and my brother truly do love me... one
loves me as my lover and one loves me as the best friend and brother the
world has ever known.

The other three, Danny, Willie, and Ryan, all said they loved me but they
never convinced me of it. That's why I call Danny's and my relationship a
mutual infatuation, not a lover's relationship. We're infatuated with each
other. Sure, we love each other too, um, in a way, but we're not IN LOVE no
matter what Danny thinks. Being in love is so fucking different it's almost
a 'catch 22' situation. You can't truly know if you're 'in love' with
someone until you actually are in love finally realizing the difference
between that and just thinking you are, but... Well, you see what I mean?

Danny's sleeping again and then shortly I guess I am too. The way I know I
went back to sleep is I just woke up again. This time Danny's leaning up
with a hand on me for support as he's reaching over to get his cell
phone. His flaccid dick is against my hip. Danny looks at his phone,
muttering, "Fuck, it's almost nine-thirty." I immediately translate that
into two conclusions: one, I don't have time to make us that great
breakfast I promised Danny and, two, he doesn't have time to do the best
lover's sex I've ever had in my life, not that I want him to or he could
even if I did want him to. His efforts in that regard, however, have been
very worthwhile efforts, for sure. BUT, the best lover's sex I've ever had
in my life happens a few times every week, and every time it happens I'm
with Robby.

Danny slides back across my body to his original position and then gets his
arm around my neck to gets my head in a headlock, asking, "Why did you make
me go back to sleep, Dylan?" Like it's my fault! I mutter, "I didn't. You
did it all by yourself... and do you always wake up grumpy?" Letting go of
me, he sits up and says, "Yeah, I do, but Jesus... I gotta go," and I know
what he means by 'gotta go'. He means he needs to piss! He could have meant
he's gotta go to the dorm barbershop because he's late but I knew his
'gotta go' meant to take a piss because I gotta go too.

Standing next to me, both of us pissing, Danny says, "God, I hate to go
back on my word but I can't do the best lover's sex you've ever had. Not
now anyway... I need to fulfill my responsibilities at my dorm barbershop."
I mutter, "Sure, I understand that." He goes, "Specks is leaving for home
this morning and please dear God I hope he left before guys start pounding
on the door expecting me to be there. It's not fair to make Specks deal
with that, ya know?" I'm like, "Ah, fuck Specks, I need to break my promise
to you about making us a great breakfast this morning, so we're even for
broken promises." While we're washing our hands he's frowning, saying,
"Yeah, but they're hardly comparable broken promises." I go, "I know, but
let's make it work and call it even." He mutters, "That's very generous of
you."

After brushing our teeth we're walking back to the living room with me
asking, "Do we have time for a couple of quick take-out coffees? I've got
Styrofoam cups with lids." He ignores that and asks, "What'd you do with
that lubricant?" I look at him with a puzzled expression 'cause I thought
he was in a hurry. I mutter, "The lube, why...?"

He stops me at the end of the hall and puts a hand on each of my shoulders
saying earnestly, "There's no time for lover's sex as we both agreed but
I've got to take the time for quick sex with you to make up for being
grumpy earlier." I go, "Nah, not really but, um, if you want to..." He
interrupts because he wasn't listening anyway. He says, "I can't tell you
how fantastic it was sleeping with you, Dylan. Not in explicit words, I
can't. I'd sound like a geek if I did. Keeping that in mind you'll
understand why there's no way on earth I can leave here without first
giving your perfect ass a good hard fucking to show you I'm sorry for being
grumpy and to show my appreciation for you letting me sleep with you last
night." I go, "Yeah, I see your point when you put it that way, but you're
making it sound like you're doing me a favor. Ya know, instead of doing
something you'd like to do."

Ignoring everything I just said, Danny points, muttering, "Oh look, over
there... there's the Astroglide." I look over and, oh yeah, that's where I
dropped it last night. We were going to take a shower and Danny said to
bring the lube so I got it but there was already enough lube in my ass from
earlier so I tossed the tube of lube on that table near the front door as
we walked by.

We've been naked from eleven o'clock last night and it's been great walking
around naked and then sleeping naked. Few things better in my mind than
sleeping naked with another naked guy who has a body like Danny's. Speaking
of being naked, I've always wanted to go to a nude beach and that's true
even though I know I'm gonna be disappointed at the scarcity of bodies like
Rob's and Danny's... and, well, mine. I've got a super hot body too, ya
know. Many a guy have said as much and I've never known anyone who said
anything different.

Danny pats my ass, saying, "Get the lube for me," and then he pulls on his
dick a few times. Yeah, well he does most of the work during sex so I can
at least get the lube. It's like four steps from me so I grab it and toss
it to Danny, who mutters, "Thanks," and then squeezing some on his finger,
mumbling, "Get back over here, baby, and I'll lube you up."

I should probably protest that he's giving me orders again except I like
it, and he knows I do. Instead of protesting I scamper on over to him like
he knew I would. Standing face to face in front of him, I say, "Private
Newman reporting for duty, Sir!" Danny grins, asking, "Was I giving orders
again?" I go, "YES SIR," and he goes, "Cut the Army shit, baby. The mere
thought of me being in the Army makes me want to pee down my leg," and he
wraps his left arm around my waist, saying, "Christ, when we're living
together full time I'll be spending all my free time fucking you," and then
he kisses me as his right arm that he has free plugs an Astroglide slippery
finger in my ass.

It's a jolt feeling his finger plug-in like that and I can't stop my body
from jerking forward, my chest bouncing off Danny's a little. He snickers
as his finger goes further up my ass. I squirm and he says, "Stand still!"
and then he tightens his left arm pulling my groin fully against his with
our dicks bumping together as he adds, "It's cool we're the same height,
huh?" I gasp, "Uh huh," and he asks, "How's it feeling?" I'm not sure if he
means his finger up my ass or his hips grinding our dicks together. Well,
both feel good so I mutter, "Good. It feels good."

He's doing just a two-knuckle finger fucking but then he concentrates on
rubbing right on my prostate gland with the pad of his finger and I'm soon
going, "Um, um, um, oh, Danny," as my chin bounces against his shoulder. He
says, "Be patient, baby." I wrap my arms around him and push my ass out a
little. He mutters, "That's my boy. Push it up a little too." I try doing
that and his finger goes all the way in, right up to the third knuckle of
his middle finger. I gasp at the shivers zipping around my body while my
cock gets rock hard between our bellies. Face to face now I grin at him and
hug tighter and then rub my nose against his to get him to kiss me. He
gives me a sloppy kiss with lots of his saliva left behind in my
mouth. And, Omigod, he smells so good too.

Danny's body feels strong and hard and his shoulders are wide, and he's
such a stud! I know he likes the fact he's stronger than me and therefore
can get me to do just about anything he wants. I know that because
sometimes without any real reason for doing it, during sex he'll change my
position just because he can. Also, it's equally obvious he likes giving me
pleasure and watching my reactions, like now as I'm squirming against him
and hugging my arms around him as tightly as I can. I like all those things
about him.

His finger pulls out of my ass leaving my anus lips quivering, and then his
finger goes right back in and way up my ass with him humping twice against
my wickedly hard cock. By now Danny's extremely aroused himself as he
breathes deeply and rubs his face against mine spreading his spit from one
cheek to the other. His spit doesn't have any scent at all but it's sexy to
feel it wetly smeared on my face. We're all basically animals anyway and
merely following our programming as Danny rubs the side of his face against
mine, and murmurs, "Nobody has ever turned me on the way you do. And, God,
you smell good! Holy fuck!" Taking his finger out of my ass he leans over
to grab a tissue out of a box near the sofa. His arm comes away from my
waist so he can wipe his finger as I'm still hugging him. He pulls my
wrists apart behind him, saying, "Turn around, Dylan," and he helps me do
that by using both his hands on my shoulder to get me turning faster.

Facing away from him I'm shivering with arousal and anticipation. I love
morning sex! Danny says, "Lean over," and when I do he smacks my ass hard,
"SMACK!SMACK!" and then his boner is at my asshole and I grunt, "Umph," as
he humps the head of his engorged boner in past my sphincter muscle and
then pushes two inches of the hard shaft up my ass while swatting the side
of my right butt cheek, "Smack!" My ass quivers as another inch of hard
cock gets shoved up inside me, and he shoved it in roughly too.

My boner is trying to stretch out longer as I gasp at the hurt and pleasure
in equal amounts. It hurts so good! Danny bends over me wrapping his left
forearm around the front of my neck and then pulling me to a standing
position which changes the position of his boner in my ass and I struggle a
little groaning, "Ahhh, ooh!" Danny pulls my head back until it hits
against his shoulder. My back arches away from him and my ass pulls away a
little bit too. Danny's other arm goes around my stomach and he roughly
pulls me back against him as he grunts shoving his boner further up my
ass. He tightens both his arms, the one around my neck and the one around
my stomach, jerking on them until I get docile for him. Tightening both his
arms in a jerking motion to make sure I'm not resisting him at all, and
then he pushes the last inch of boner up my ass.

Danny's hard cock is a perfect fit for my ass but I'd still like to bend
forward because that's a more natural way for a cock to impale me. When I
try to do that Danny again strongly jerks back with the arm around my
throat and that's the last touch of dominance necessary to punch a button
in my brain that allows a great submissive trance to drool over me. I sigh,
perfectly agreeable to submissively try pleasing my dominant 'top'.

Docile for him now I hear a muttered, "Good," from Danny as his hips hump
hard squishing his crotch flat against my buttocks, his full six-plus
inches of boned-up penis inside me. Another hump against my buttocks with
another grunt from Danny as he pulls my head back harder against his
shoulder and I swear to God I feel like I'm going to cum right now. My cock
is a rock-hard boner sticking straight out, so hard it doesn't move at
all. It's such a rush for me that Danny's getting his dominant routine down
pat. It's been my experience the more I let guys get away with taking
charge, the further they'll take it. Perhaps in small increments, Danny, in
this case, doesn't even realize he's being more dominant. He doesn't think
in terms of submissive/dominant.

Now that's he's dominantly got me totally under his control and his hard
cock is where he wants it, Danny takes his arm from around my neck and
grabs my hips with both hands. I take the opportunity to lean over and grab
my knees while pushing my filled-up ass out docilely for my 'top'. Danny's
still leaning hard against my buttocks quietly moaning as I feel his boner
getting larger inside me. Another moan from Danny and another hump against
my buttocks and then he starts fucking me. Omigod, it's as if he's trying
to beat the clock with as fast and furious ninety seconds of fucking as
I've experienced in quite some time. With loud "SLAPSLAPSLAPSLAP" sounds
erupting in the room and me getting roughly jostled to and fro from his
thrusting and from his strong hands pulling my hips back into every one of
his hard fast thrusts there's a tornado of sexual pleasure sensations
dancing up a pleasure storm in my rectum and all around my groin.

Holy Christ, only ninety seconds but there's a lot of awesome highflying
sensations packed into that ninety seconds and when my climax hits after
building like a bomb, it BA-BOOM blasts off and I'm shaking like mad
watching my white creamy stream of cum shooting from my straight-out
rock-boner as if it was nuclear powered... VA-Voom it flashed straight out
four feet and then BOOM BOOM, in rapid-fire order two more flying creamy
semen streams... Jesus, that felt good!

Danny must have had his orgasm right before or at the same time as mine. I
didn't even realize he'd climaxed until his cock pulls out of my ass
followed by a long drool of a wet substance, and I'm pretty sure I know
what that is. Danny makes a funny sound while exhaling, a gasping sound,
and then he says, "Omigod, that was fantastic!" and he whacks my ass a
couple of more times, and I mean even harder than earlier. Loud,
"SMACK!SMACK!" sounds ringing out in the living room as his hand makes
solid contact with my buttocks... both butt cheeks quivering and stinging.

As I'm straightening up I see imaginary sparks of light flickering like
fireflies leftover from that big bang of a climax. Yeah, flicks of light
dancing in front of my eyes that I stupidly swat at with my left hand as
I'm rubbing my smacked ass with my right. Danny goes, "Oh man, that was an
incredible morning eye-opener, baby!" When I take my hand away he does
another "SMACK!" on my ass and, Jesus, it makes me hop a couple of steps,
yelping, "OW! Goddammit, Danny!"

With a snicker, Danny steps over to the kitchen bar and grabs a sheet from
a roll of Bounty paper towels. He wipes his boner and, in a serious mood
says, "If you're coming with me, baby, and haha I guess you are since
you're driving, ya gotta get a move on. I can't leave those guys hanging
outside my door or, God forbid, inside with Specks. He'll have a shit fit."
I head down the hall to the bathroom, saying, "You got the part right about
me driving. Me hurrying is another matter altogether." Danny's following me
now carrying his boxer shorts, saying, "C'mon, Dylan, please hurry."

He stands at the bathroom door watching me use a damp washcloth to wipe his
drooling cum from my ass, as I'm saying, "You used to take care of your
bottom boys better than you've been doing lately, Mr. Monday." He's
stepping into his underpants, mumbling, "I'm gonna treat you like a prince
later, baby, but we gotta hurry now, okay?" Dropping the washcloth in the
hamper, I go, "How about if you help me clean this bathroom first?" Danny
goes, "DYLAN! Stop joking around! C'mon." I smirk, "I'm teasing you," and
walk past him to the bedroom to get fresh clothes to put on. Same basic
clothes I wore yesterday but clean ones. Jockey shorts, sweatshirt, skinny
jeans, socks, and my LL Bean ankle boots. Holding my arms out, I go, "See,
I'm ready to go!" He's still in his underpants.

Danny follows me to the living room and starts getting dressed but he makes
a rookie mistake by putting on his sweat socks before his skinny
jeans. While he's cursing under his breath pulling his socks off, I make us
two take-out cups of coffee. Extreme skinny jeans like the one Danny's
wearing do not go on without a fight, certainly not if you're wearing heavy
socks.

I'm slurping my coffee that I've added four heaping teaspoonfuls of sugar
and two tablespoons of cream. It tastes like hot coffee ice
cream... delicious. As I'm slurping the too-hot coffee, and it's okay for
me to slurp because Danny doesn't mind, I finish adding sugar and cream to
his coffee. When he's dressed, we put our coats and hats on, Danny grabs
his coffee and out we go. It's February first, and this first day of
February isn't a friendly one. It's a cold motherfuckin' day with gusts of
wind strong enough to blow your hat off.

So cold the car hasn't even heated up by the time I've driven us onto the
campus and parked in the lot closest to Danny's dormitory. Before I get out
of the Kia, I type a note to myself on my cell phone reminding me to check
on Chubby later today, and then get out of the car and jog to catch up with
Danny. It's actually impressing me how responsible Danny is about his
haircut customers. The most surprising thing about him is he's still doing
free haircuts!

Yeah, I'm pretty sure I would have lost interest by now and I'm the one
with the haircut fetish. And no, there is absolutely no indication Danny
has that affliction himself, so what is the reason he's so conscientious
about haircutting? Maybe he likes the attention it brings him and likes
that a helluva lot of guys on campus now know who Danny Monday is. I can't
think of any other reason he continues doing this.

Well, I'll be damned. As we step into the hall I see there are seven guys
standing outside his door and when they see Danny the guys hoot and hollers
like he's a celebrity. They're doing a mock chant of his name as Danny, who
acts cool with it, is waving his arms for them to keep the yelling
down. Most of them have take-out coffees and a few are chomping on donuts
or breakfast sandwiches. If their hands were free they would probably be
clapping that, yeah, Danny's here!

It doesn't surprise me that I don't know a single guy waiting at the door
and, except for a couple of random glances at me, no one pays any attention
to me at all. These guys are obviously straight... haha. They all took
Danny's advice to get here early although it isn't doing most of them any
good as they're going to need to wait for their turn anyway.

As Danny's unlocking the door he says, "Guys, shut the fuck up and listen
to me for a second! Soccer players are going first because I promised them
they could go first so they could get to practice on time. Um, Ricky's
first, then Gene, and Boots you're third." There's some grumbling about
who's blowing who to get haircuts first, and a couple of yucks about
something or other that goes over my head, and then when we're all inside,
Ricky sits in the barber chair and says, "Same as last time my good man!"
Yeah, he sat in the barber chair that Danny's mom's boyfriend bought for
Danny on eBay and then hauled the chair up here in the guy's pickup. Danny
still refuses to call the guy his mom's boyfriend... c' mon, man!

I lean against the wall away from this group while trying not to be too
obvious about it. Some of the guys sit on the floor with one guy grabbing a
Sports Illustrated magazine and lying on Danny's unmade bed. There's a guy
sitting on the desk chair and another guy leaning against the door bitching
at someone named Smoots to get the fuck away from him. It's like a, um, a
scene in a movie, or an event... or something. Lots of chatter plus the
normal ball-busting I'd expect between guys, mostly good-natured insults
with guys laughing at things that aren't funny, and then there's a cursory
knock on the door and two more guys barge right in to join the party. One
of the guys sitting on the floor, an overweight guy, yells at the two new
guys, "Oh, no... it's the frat house fags! This is for campus students
only. No rich fags allowed," and there's jostling around, mostly one arm
hugs and hand slaps or fist bumps. Holy shit it's a clubhouse!

I inch down the wall to get further separated from all these guys who
apparently know one another to one degree or another. I'm not saying
anything to anybody. Even though Specks left for home, and it's crowded in
here, no one is on Specks' bed. Danny made that a rule early on because
Specks pitched a bitch about guys sitting on his bed. I don't blame him
either.

Meanwhile, Danny's already halfway through re-doing Ricky's flattop. It
takes me longer than it should to come to the realization that there's no
fucking way I'm hanging around here until Danny does the three soccer
players' haircuts. Even if I did, why would I think these guys are going to
put up with me butting in front of them? Danny's idea last night that he'd
do my haircut right after he did the three soccer players ain't gonna
work. Forget that! And forget Danny's other suggestion too. The one where
I'll get to give him a haircut if I stay all day and sweep up in between
each haircut. No thank you! Fuck that!

The bitch of it is, I definitely need a haircut today because I'm working
at Dickers & Son next weekend plus, even if I wasn't, it's been almost like
seven or eight weeks since my last haircut. Mr. Dickers will not be
impressed with my shaggy appearance. And, yes, I care what he and
Mrs. Dickers think about me, but my haircut will have to be later today.

And, fuck, it's wicked awkward being here with all these guys talking and
goofing around with one another. I feel so out of place. I not only don't
know these guys but to my knowledge, I've also never seen any of them
before in my life. Yeah, these nine guys, nine out of twenty-five hundred
guys here at Merrimack that I don't fucking know. Why would I know them?
They know each other from the baseball team, or they're roommates of
players on other sports teams. Fucking jocks! And some of them look old
enough to be young professors while a couple of them look like high school
students. And they're all annoyingly chatty, especially for this early in
the morning. Did they stay up all night drinking and then come over for
haircuts drunk?

Plus, not one of these nine guys is remotely cute, the barber being the
only exception in the room, um, not counting me. When this guy, Ricky, gets
out of the barber chair, saying, "You da man, Monday," slapping hands with
Danny's, I inch toward the door and then follow Ricky out. He turns and
gives me a quizzical look. I mutter, "Wassup," and get by him to go outside
first. Jesus, how does Danny put up with that shit-storm every Saturday?

Sure, Danny's popular but frankly I've no desire to know any of those
guys. Campus life on a small campus, smallish both in numbers of students
and the size of the campus almost forces students to run into each other,
um, frequently which is perfect for some. I much prefer Robby's and my
choice of an apartment off campus and, huh, now I can't recall how or why
we decided to live off campus. Chubby was with us freshman year but he
likes to be in the middle of the storm and decided on dormitory life after
that one year in the apartment. Me, I'm happy to do without all the goofy
shit that was going on this morning in Danny's dorm room. Christ, and I
used to worry about me being immature! Those guys acted like high school
students in the hall between classes, each one trying to be the biggest
fool.

Ha, as if I've never acted the fool myself. Ah, it's all a matter of
perspective. Those guys were alright I guess. Haha, I'd probably overlook
all their yelling, bad jokes, and roughhousing if a couple of them were
cute.

Sitting in the car finishing my coffee, I'm letting the car warm up and
wondering what I should do now. Well, why not text Robby and ask how his
dad is? I do that but he doesn't text back and I think... oh shit, he said
he'd be in a meeting taking notes for his dad all morning. I shouldn't have
texted and made his phone beep in the meeting. My bad! What the hell, I
cause his phone to beep again leaving another text asking him to call me
when he's on his lunch break.

Hmm, I hesitate to text Chubby at this early hour. I mean, it's ten o'clock
in the morning and I hope he's still sleeping off that bad cold he
has. I'll text him later. I don't want to text Pony because, as shocking as
it may sound, I'm not up for sex right now. Yesterday afternoon with him,
and then sleeping together, Danny's got me back on track in the sex
department and that's for sure, and he did it in an excellent manner
too. Oh man, I squirm my ass on the seat as I smile thinking about how
awesome Danny fucked me a half hour ago. Wow! And he was really something
last night too... before AND then after we got in bed, er, got on the
sofa. Damn, he fucks good though, whoo-whee!

Huh, so Danny has nine guys in his dorm room right now, all of whom he
knows in some way and he probably knows all their names too. And that's
just the tip of the iceberg for Danny. I, on the other hand, have just
accounted for the only four people I care enough about at Merrimack to
consider texting... Robby, Danny, Chub, and Pony. Well, there's Connor too
but he's not allowed out very much. So that's five guys out of twenty-five
hundred. Wow, what's that make me? I mean, I'd guess I know probably
twenty-five guys here at Merrimack by name, but I don't want to hang out
with any of them. Not when it's just me and any one of them. In a group,
sure they're okay occasionally as long as adult beverages are included. I'm
NOT what you'd call a misanthrope because I don't hate mankind, not at all
but human nature can be annoying at times. Plus I'm obviously not a recluse
or a hermit although certain types in my peer group I definitely prefer
avoiding. And I have no problem with peers who don't like me... fuck 'em.

Yeah but it seems like I have more free time nowadays and there aren't many
I care to share that time with. Well, in years gone by I was spending a lot
of my free time boy watching, checking out guys to have sex with. That's a
very time-consuming endeavor and one I had a lot of success with... ya
know, in my younger days. That's what I did in my free time. Now I don't
have a strong inclination to do that so I've free time I don't know what to
do with... and yadda, yadda, yadda.

Holy shit, and it's me who lectures Pony about making friends that he can
do things with, so maybe I need to follow my own advice. No! I don't want
to! And, haha, Pony doesn't want to either. Well, this blows. Yeah, but I'm
done analyzing my life. Putting the car in gear, I drive back to the
apartment and make myself a big breakfast. I haven't been eating regularly
since Robby went home.

After breakfast, for the next two hours, I read my latest book. Time seems
to fly by pleasantly when I'm deeply into a good book. And then I get a
phone call from Robby. He's eating lunch at Burger King and in between
swallowing his food he tells me he'll be coming home for dinner tonight,
arriving as early as five o'clock. He gulps soda and says, "I've gotten
very little sleep down here, Dylan, as in hardly any. I'm not gonna we
worth much to you until tomorrow morning after twelve hours sleep. This
really blows but I feel good helping out mom and dad, so..."

He explains he's been getting up in the night frequently to help his dad
with one thing or another. Robby says, "Dad can't even get the hospital bed
to do what it's supposed to. Mom's sleeping in the spare room but she can't
work the bed controller either. And it's crazily simple, babe, all you need
to do is press the red button and then either one of the four other buttons
depending on if you want the bed to go up, down, the mattress curving to
the left or right. Shit, I explained it three times and he still calls me
to adjust the bed three or four times in the middle of the night. And then
he can't get out of bed by himself when he needs to take a piss, and on and
on, ya know. Oh, balls, why am I complaining to you but it's one of
those... Whaddaya gonna do situations. He needs to sleep and he needs to
piss once in a while and he can't do it on his own and mom's not up to
helping although she tries hard enough and... " Jesus!

Poor guy. He tells me he helped get his dad home from the hospital
yesterday but his dad's back is all fucked up so he's like an invalid
almost. Jeez, those Dickers have a lot of issues including Robby what with
car accidents, appendicitis, colds, and the other ailments he's had the
past five years. I'm grateful that shit never happens to me but when it
happens to Rob it's almost like it's happening to me too, ya know? Rob says
his dad is only expected to be bedridden for two weeks which isn't exactly
great news... ONLY two weeks!

Christ, Robby's so exhausted he felt he needed to give me a heads-up that
he's not gonna be 'up' for sex. That's what he was saying cryptically about
him not being any good until after twelve hours sleep which isn't too cool
but I understand. He's had a rough couple of days... almost three by the
time he gets back here.

I'm like, "Don't worry about me, Robby. I'm just glad you've got things
pretty much under control there," and Rob hesitates before saying, "Yes,
babe, but only barely. I made both mom and dad watch me work the hospital
bed's control thingie three times and they got really grumpy about it but I
think they can do it now, but last night! Holy shit."

I mutter, "Jeez," and he goes, "Um, yeah, well there's more. Um, there's no
way of saying this except straight out. I'll need to come home for the next
two weekends right after classes on Thursdays. Well, you and I were coming
home next weekend anyway. Critical financial meetings regarding the
Falmouth project are scheduled and the decisions are time sensitive plus
other bullshit. These meetings need to be held at the end of the
week. Friday afternoons running over into Saturdays because the rest of the
week the managers are doing their regular responsibilities." I'm like, "Oh,
I'm sorry you need to deal with that." Whatever he's talking about...

Robby swallows something and then says, "Yeah, it couldn't be a worse time
for dad to hurt himself. Anyway, he needs me taking notes and giving my
impressions about how the managers are feeling about each point that gets
discussed as well as how things are generally progressing in these
meetings. He reviews my notes and then talks with to me about my
impressions. He'll get regular reports of course, but he values my
opinion."

His opinion, whoop-de-doo! I don't say that though. And I do sincerely feel
bad for Robby but we're supposed to be college students. We're not supposed
to be dealing with fifty million dollar Falmouth projects!  But Rob's dad
keeps pulling him back into the business. And doesn't Robby realize those
managers know he's spying on them for his dad? I mean, Rob's gonna be a
manager like they are in a year or so. How's he gonna get along with them
after spying on them? His dad isn't doing Robby any favors, but then what
the hell do I know? Anyway, none of this is Robby's fault so I need to
support him.

Call me selfish but I'm wicked disappointed Robby will be away for the next
two four-day weekends. I mean, c'mon! Oh well, I can't think of anything to
say that won't make him feel worse so I don't say anything. After a couple
of seconds, Robby fills the silence mumbling, "Anyway, that's why I'll need
to be at home the next two weekends, at least the next two." I make a
'face' that he obviously doesn't know I'm making and then force myself to
mutter, "I understand Rob," and he goes, "Thanks but, Dylan, I've missed
you so much I could hardly think straight in this morning's meeting... and
I hate taking notes!"

A few seconds of silence and then I step right into the trap by asking, "Is
there anything I can do to help?" He goes, "Oh, um, I was wondering
something so I talked to dad and he said if you're willing, and I hope you
will be, it's okay if you can sit in on the meeting with me and help with
the note-taking. It's not all meetings anyway. There's other work for you
when the meetings end and, of course, you'll get paid and I thought you'd
like the chance to make some extra money since you're always,
um.... Whaddaya say, will you come home with me next two weekends?
Pleeeese!"

And the bear trap snaps on my ankle, SNAP! Hope it's not broken... my
ankle, not the bear trap. Haha, I'm bullshit about this but, of course, I
tell him I'm happy to do it, adding, "I'm kinda lost without you, Rob, so
yeah... I'll go home with you." Omigod, he thanks me five times and it
makes my heart break for him. The poor guy is worried about his dad and
trying to live up to his dad's expectations but feeling guilty about
us. So, of course, I'll help!

In that frame of mind, I join in getting maudlin with Robby as we're
telling each other how much we need and love one another and blah, blah,
blah until I snort out a laugh, saying, "Holy crap, we're overdoing it
again, Robby! We need to get ourselves under control here." He chuckles and
says, "Jesus, you're right. A man just looked over at me from another
table. Fuck, my face feels hot and it's probably red." I go, "I can
imagine. I mean, when you called me 'sweetheart, dude, that's even over the
top for us." Robby snickers, "Yeah, I got the creeps realizing I said
that." I go, "Well, tell the man to mind his own fucking business and I'll
see you tonight, sweetheart," and we both laugh as we end our call.

Okay, so we overdid our affection and love and whatnot but that made me
feel good anyway and I feel good I'm going to be a help to Robby. Yeah,
Danny fucks great and he's fun, but I know I need Robby with me going
through life. He's who I need and want to spend my life with. After talking
with Robby I don't feel the need for any more disturbing self-analysis and
doubt about myself. Certainly not like I was doing earlier in the car. I'm
fine the way I am. I'm happy and I don't need to have twenty guys to hang
out with.

After saying all that stuff about my feelings for Robby, and it's all true,
I still intend having more buddy sex with Danny. I may even have more of it
today. After saying that, I know who's irreplaceable as my life partner,
lover, and companion and his name is Robert Dickers. I squeeze myself,
clench all my muscles for two seconds feeling lucky and happy that Robby
needs my help and he misses me and loves me the way he does. Yeah, love and
need is a fortuitous and powerful combination in a relationship.

By now it's after twelve o'clock so I text Chubby and he texts back that
he's over the worst of it. Plus, now guys in his dormitory are bringing him
and John food and drinks from the dining hall. They're doing as well as can
be expected and I read between the lines understanding he just wants to put
in the time to let the virus run its course without a lot of fussy
visits. That's the way I am too when I'm sick... I don't want a lot of
company either. My 'soup' visit yesterday was a good thing though because
they hadn't gotten anything organized yet. Now they have. They also have a
TV in their room and music if they want it, so there isn't a helluva lot
else they can do except wait it out.

Chubby's taken care of, so I feel good about that. Okay, I finished my last
book just as Robby called so I need another book to read. What I'm gonna do
is buy a couple of second-hand paperbacks at Annie's Book Store. For that
reason, I'm back in the Kia driving to the CVS Mall where Annie's Used Book
store is located. As I'm approaching Main Street in downtown North Andover
Danny texts: 'Where did you get to, baby? I'm usually done here by three
o'clock. Text me then.' No texting while driving so I wait until I get to
the CVS Mall, then send a one-word reply to Danny's text... 'Okay'

In the store, a guy who appears to be in his mid-twenties is looking
through the paperback section which is where I intend looking. Typical
there are only two people in the store and we're both of us are in the same
aisle. This is not a big store to start with. I'm looking for a couple of
John Sandford's `Prey' novels. They feature bad-ass tough guy, Lucas
Davenport.  Other than the one other guy, there's a frumpy lady reading a
book of poems at the cash register. Huh, I wonder if that's Annie?

I only took a quick glance at the other guy in here but my quick impression
was he's startlingly good looking. The guy is wearing a pair of round
narrow-rimmed eyeglasses very similar to the one I picked out for Connor
recently. Yeah, I picked out his frames because Connor couldn't make a
decision.

Oh, balls... the guy is blocking where I want to go. Blowing out my cheeks
and then exhaling in frustration, I mutter, "Um, sorry... excuse me," and I
squeeze behind the guy to get to the section for mysteries. Well, this guy
is not a helpful type apparently. He certainly didn't help matters any. He
barely moves and we rub against one another as I'm getting past him, the
rude asshole! Yeah, but he does have a hot body. Again, I only take a quick
glance at the guy but notice he's openly staring at me. I hate when people
blatantly stare at me like that! Have some fucking manners, please!

The second-hand paperbacks are on shelves in alphabetical order by authors,
obviously. Oh, shit, the "S' authors are on the bottom shelf. I kneel down
to read the titles. Jeez, there are a lot of books by John Sandford with
the word 'Prey' in the title. I decide on two paperbacks that are in really
good condition and then, getting up off my knees I take the books to the
frumpy lady at the register.

The unhelpful good looking guy with the classy looking eyeglasses is
standing there waiting for a grandmotherly lady to finish what she's doing
with the frumpy lady. Grandma drives a hard bargain discussing how much
money she wants for the books she wants Annie's to buy. Grandma obviously
came into the store after me.

While that major monetary transaction goes on, the good looking man in
front of me turns and says, "Excuse me but aren't you in my biology class?"
That's such a bizarre question I actually look behind me thinking the
question was directed at someone else. There's no one else in the store
though, so I look back and do my automatic smile, mumbling, "No... mistaken
identity, heh heh." He says, "I'm sorry. That was rude of me, wasn't it?" I
do a tiny shrug, muttering, "No, no problem," and he sort of smiles,
saying, "You're not pulling my leg, are you? Are you sure you're not in my
class?" What the fuck?

Fortunately, grandma is leaving the store and frumpy at the register says,
"Next." The good-looking man turns around to put the books he's buying on
the counter. Huh, I got a better look at him and when he grinned my dick
noticed 'cause it was sort of a sexy innocent type grin and the guy is cute
as well as good looking. He couldn't be older than twenty-five and he might
be younger, but a biology teacher?

As he's handing money to frumpy, I sneak a peek and see the titles of his
books. One is titled, 'At Swim, Two Boys' by James O'Neill and the other,
'The Persian Boy' by Mary Renault, both of which I've read and both of
which have a strong homosexual element to them. And, oh, there's a third
book under the top two. I can only make out the last name of the
author... Isherwood. That will certainly be Christopher Isherwood. He's a
gay author and so is Jamie O'Neill. Mary Renault isn't, although she writes
about Alexander the Great who was deeply into homo activities with the
Persian boy. The boy was gelded at age twelve and sold as a slave to
pleasure men who were into that sort of thing. 'That sort of thing' was a
common practice five thousand years ago. Yeah, as history claims, Alexander
took a wife or two on his warring ways of conquering the world but he
preferred boys and young men. In the book, he falls in love with the
Persian boy and it's quite a story. Ms. Renault writes historical fiction
novels and there actually was a Persian boy to base the story on, according
to records written way back then.

Okay, so much for book reviews. This good looking guy is almost certainly a
gay professor which isn't exactly a 'stop the presses' news flash. One of
my two favorite teachers in high school was gay; gay and 'out'. He was the
most interesting and professional teacher I've ever had although a hard
grader. I learned a lot about American history from him. Interesting
American history too. My other favorite teacher was far from gay but he was
an easy grader and full of funny one-liners putting down some of the less
brilliant of my fellow students. You know, when they 'acted-up' in
class. His offhanded casual one-liners went over most of the kids' heads
but I'd do fake coughs to cover my laughing and Mr. Wisner would give me a
glancing smirk and a little head nod. Hey, maybe he was gay
too... haha. No, he wasn't, but then I didn't even know I was gay at the
time.

Anyway, I haven't seen this good-looking professor at Merrimack and I'm
thinking I might look him up just for the hell of it. The problem with that
is, he said 'biology class' and that doesn't sound at all like a college
course. After he's paid for his books, I pay for my two paperbacks at $2.99
each and then I walk outside where the good-look professor is standing
right outside the door. He says, "You must think I'm crazy. Um, I wanted to
explain myself. I've only been here for two weeks. I'm Mr. Dilford's
replacement and I'm trying desperately to familiarize myself with my
students."

I have no fucking idea what he's talking about. He asks, "Did you have his
class, Mr. Dilford's class before his heart attack?" I'm slowly shaking my
head while staring at his smallish mouth that's sexy as hell... sexy lips
and startlingly white smallish teeth. Yeah, but this guy waited for me to
come out of the store! Hmm, I can see the headlines now: 'A good-looking
young professor from Merrimack College is a person of interest in a missing
person and probably raped and murdered cute Merrimack student, Dylan
Newman, who is not a misanthrope no matter what assholes from Danny's dorm
room barbershop testified to. This surprisingly cute and personable student
was last seen talking to the aforementioned good-looking professor outside
Annie's Used Book Store. One million dollar reward for any information
leading to the apprehension of this good-looking motherfuckin'
professor. No, it should be ten million dollars reward! Then there would be
posters on telephone poles with my picture next to the ones with pictures
of cats and dogs... have you seen my cat? My missing person poster would
say: have you seen this incredibly cute guy who needs a haircut?' Oh wait,
they'll probably use my high school graduation picture instead of a current
one for the excellent reason there is no current one. Yeah, but I hate that
high school picture!

In case this good-looking professor isn't a serial killer though, I smile
and say, "No, sorry I can't help you there," and start walking to my
car. The man says, "Now I'm beginning to doubt myself. Could I have seen
you in the corridor near room 224?" I'm getting the distinct impression
this guy isn't referring to Merrimack. I stop at the Kia, and ask, "Um, are
you're teaching at Merrimack College?" His eyebrows shoot up as he goes,
"No, North Andover High. And as I said, I've only been here in
Massachusetts for two weeks. I'm from New Jersey. This is my first
full-time teaching position and I'm trying to learn all my student's
names." This pisses me off...  he thinks I'm a high school student!

Frowning at him, I manage to say, "I'm a senior at Merrimack College. Did
you, um, think I was...?" He looks embarrassed or shocked, just staring at
me again. Holy Christ, I've never seen eyes that shade of blue before in my
life! Looking away, I open the driver's door of the Kia and he goes, "My
apologies. Yes, I teach high school biology and I thought... Um, do you
have a brother going to high school?" I'm shaking my head again but I can't
help staring back at him.  This guy should be in the movies.

What a sexy motherfucker this teacher is. His light-brown hair is combed in
that old favorite style of mine. It's short, but not really short, combed
down on top and flipped up in front." He asks, "Um, how old are you? I mean
if you don't mind me asking. I graduated two years early from high school
and I was wondering if you did too." I mumble, "No, I was eighteen when I
graduated. I mean I turned eighteen that summer. I'm twenty-two," and he
frowns as though he doesn't believe me, so I'm like, "Would you like to see
my license?" Oops, that sarcastic tone isn't called for. This poor lonely
sexy-good-looking teacher is a stranger in a strange place doing a job for
the first time ever in his life and he thought he saw a familiar face from
high school. And, sigh, it's turned into this fiasco for him. And he's gay
and probably knows I saw his reading material.

Adjusting his eyeglasses, he seems shy saying, "Well, obviously I've made a
fool of myself and managed to insult you at the same time. Can I buy you a
beer or a cup of coffee or something to try making it up to you?" I
unconsciously glance at Rolf's Bar that's one block from this mall and,
seeing me do that, he asks, "Have you ever been in that bar? I've never
been in any of the places in town. Well, except Annie's Book Store," and he
does a short nervous laugh. Hmm, he said this was his first full-time
teaching job so he probably graduated last year from some college and he
could be younger than me if he isn't bullshitting about graduating high
school two years early. He's a good-looking gay guy in a strange place
acting unsure of himself... why not have a beer with him? I say, " Thank
you for the invitation, um, but I need to be someplace." He goes, "Oh,
another time perhaps."

I nod and get inside the car and start it up. As I'm driving away I see him
standing there watching me as I take a right onto Main Street. Why did I
blow off an open invitation like that? He wasn't only good-looking, he
seemed very nice too. And those eyes! I don't know what's gotten into me
lately. Is it the teacher seemed too needy? I don't know... Fuck!

Forcing my bizarre reaction to that attractive young teacher from my mind,
I drive through the small downtown area passing two barbershops and that
reminds me of my personal barber, Danny Monday. Instead of driving back to
the apartment, I drive to dormitory row and park. Leaving my paperback
books on the passenger seat, I walk down to Danny's dorm. Hoping this will
get the good looking teacher off my mind I've decided to wait in Danny's
dorm room until it's my turn for a haircut the way everybody else does
it. I need to get a haircut because I'm going home, my other home, the next
two weekends and today is the last Saturday I can get a haircut from
Danny. Walking up to the dormitory's front door I get that familiar funny
feeling in my balls that I always get when I'm going for a haircut.

It's even a stronger feeling because Danny's the barber. Damn, I rub my
junk quickly as I let that thought skitter around in my brain. Rubbing my
dick again I'm thinking of other positive things about Danny being the
barber like saving twenty bucks by not going to one of the butcher
barbershops I passed on Main Street and the convenience of getting a
haircut here and the possibility that my barber will fuck my brains out
after my haircut. So, ya know, why would I even consider getting my hair
cut anyplace else?

As I grab the doorknob of the building's front door a kid comes rushing up,
saying, "Um, dude, excuse me." I turn around and see this baby faced skinny
kid wearing a ski cap. He goes, "Is this the dorm where that the guy gives
free haircuts?" I nod my head and say, "Yeah. Danny Monday. Um, his room is
on the right if you..." but the kid has already slipped right past me
snickering and muttering something. Did he call me a 'sucker'? I think he
said 'sucker'. What the fuck is this, rude-week? Fucking freshmen, ya know?

Shaking my head I walk inside feeling that buzz in my nuts again. Dammit, I
wish I didn't have this stupid haircut fetish! I cannot fucking get rid of
it because it doesn't work that way. Ya can't just decide you don't want a
certain fetish. It doesn't give a shit if you want it or not. Plus, this
fetish does give me a sexual rush, so there's that. Hey, and as I said a
minute ago, maybe after the haircut Danny and I will have some sexy fun in
his bed. I'll wait around for that if I need to because my days are winding
down to a precious few for this sort of thing. I gotta make the most of my
opportunities... so why didn't I do that with the good-looking biology
teacher? Goddamn, I can't fucking imagine why I didn't!

Outside Danny's dorm room door, I do the polite thing and knock on the door
before walk right in. Naturally, there's that little fucker with the ski
cap inside before me. He shrugs at me and pulls off his cap, saying, "I
dope-slapped you, dude, and got in front of you. Now there's one less guy
in front of me," and he sits on the floor next to the only other guy
here. I mean, except for the freckled faced guy in the barber chair, and
the barber of course.

As I'm frowning at this skinny little fucker, Danny goes, "Dylan! Hey,
things are winding down finally. It won't be a long wait," and then he
points to the kid who came in before me, and says, "Fuck you, Mickey. And
where ya been? I haven't seen you since before Christmas." Yeah, Mickey has
quite a head of hair! He says, "Nah, Dan, I was here a month ago," and
Danny says, "Bullshit, you were not here a month ago!" and he goes back to
doing a regular haircut for another really young looking guy with a million
freckles. Maybe this is freshman Saturday. Nah, not after this morning,
those guys weren't freshmen.

No one is using the desk chair so I sit on it. Mickey and the kid sitting
on the floor next to him start giggling about something and I try
listening. It's something to do with one of them supposedly having a tiny
penis and something about the small dick kid claiming he got laid last
night and the girl didn't even know he has a tiny penis. The other one
calling bullshit on that. They won't stop giggling like girls! Christ, that
giggling gets very annoying, very quickly!

Meanwhile, Danny and the freckled face kid are having an argument about
something to do with the baseball team's first practice. They're arguing
about what the date is for the first official practice. Oh, man, do I
really miss those special Sunday haircuts with only Danny and me in here.

I look at Danny's unmade bed and think... why the hell wouldn't he take two
minutes to make his bed knowing twelve or fourteen guys are gonna be coming
in here today. Then I remember the Sports Illustrated magazines he keeps
under his bed. I walk over to the bed and get on my knees to pull a stack
of them out. I take the two most current magazines and when I stand up I
see the skinny kid, Mickey, is now sitting on the desk chair smirking at
me, saying, "I just punked you again! You're not real bright, are you?" His
goofy friend on the floor is covering his mouth giggling like mad.

I've had enough of this skinny little fucker so I walk over and, without
saying a word, grab the front of the kid's sweatshirt and yank him out of
the chair and sort of swing him in a loop toward Danny's bed. He loses his
footing and tumbles on the floor sliding until he hits the bed. Lying
there, he mutters, "You cunt," and then jumps right up to charge at me
swinging his fists. I block two wild punches and then slap his face hard
with a good swinging right arm the palm of my hand catches him fully on the
side of his face cutting his lip at the corner of his mouth.

Yeah, ya big bully, Dylan. Well, I could have punched his lights out if I
wanted to but he's too skinny and young looking with that baby face of
his. Split lip or not, he won't stop wildly swinging his fist hitting my
arms and it's really pissing me off now so I do swing a fist and it would
have caught his chin except for Danny getting his arms around the kid's
stomach from behind and picking him up off his feet to pull him back. My
fist missed the kid's chin by an inch. Thank God it did too or he might
have been out! That kind of trouble I do not need. Danny calmly says,
"Would you get the door please, Dylan." I open it and Danny carries the kid
over and tosses him out in the hall, saying, "Don't come back," and slams
the door.

We hear a muted, "Fuck you," from the corridor and I look over at Mickey's
friend who's now looking innocent as he holds up Mickey's ski cap. Grabbing
it from him, I open the door and toss it out. For my trouble, I get the
'finger' from Mickey and another, "Fuck you!" as he's sitting on the floor
with a couple of students in the hall looking quizzically at him.

I gotta give the skinny kid props for having balls... and guts. If you're
gonna be a huge pain in the ass like him you better have balls and
guts. Okay, I'm trying not to grin as I sit at the desk reading a month-old
Sports Illustrated, wondering where the current issues are. Five minutes
later there's a knock on the door and Danny says to me, "That'll be Mickey
insincerely saying he's sorry. Would you please let him in, Dylan."? I'm
closest to the door so I get up and open it. Mickey smirks at me and then
looks around me to say to Danny, "I'm sorry, I'll be good now." What the
fuck is this? Romper room?

Danny says, "Alright, Mickey, come in and sit your skinny ass next to
Hermie. Keep your mouth shut and don't get up until I call you." Mickey's
trying to look chastised but barely concealing a smirk as he's nodding his
head and then mugging to his friend who's still sitting on the floor. As
Mickey sits down next to the Hermie kid he's giving Danny the 'finger'
behind the ski cap he's holding. I'm rolling my eyes, as he says, "Hey, you
at the desk." I look over and he goes, "I'm still ahead of you for a
haircut, and then I'll be waiting outside for you, ya girlie looking fag."
I get up and Mickey goes, "Danny! The dude at the desk is causing trouble
again." Danny laughs out loud and then says, "Sit down, Dylan. He's teasing
you." Oh man, those terrible lady barbers on Main Street are starting to
look like a more attractive option by the minute.

Danny finishes outlining around freckles' ears with the trimmer/razor as
Mickey smirks at me and mouths, "Outside, you and me..." Ya know, I wish to
hell that little dick-head would be waiting for me outside. I haven't been
in a fist fight in quite some time. Not that this would be much of a
fight. I could tie this little pecker in a knot and punch the shit out of
him. He won't be waiting outside though... no way!

Mickey's friend, Hermie, is in the barber chair now getting a buzz
cut. That should take five minutes tops except Danny stretches it out and
takes ten minutes and then Mickey stands up even before Hermie is out of
the chair. He wants to make sure he's next. Ballsy Mickey holds both his
hands out to me likes he's giving the 'stop' sign. Christ, as if that would
prevent me from going next if I wanted to, which I don't. I wanna go last
for obvious reasons.

Hermie's up and out of the barber chair now. He says, "I'll wait for you,
Mick," and then he sits on the floor again. Danny says to me, "I'm getting
there, Dylan. It won't be long." I wave a hand at him like, 'don't worry
about it', and then I glance at Hermie's haircut and see a normal buzz cut
except there are two little lightning bolt symbols shaved into the hair on
the right side. Obviously at the kid's request and obviously what took the
extra time to do. I hate that look but I've been seeing similar things on
guy's heads of late. Hair art, I guess it's called.

Mickey is giving Danny all kinds of instructions about the haircut he wants
but I can tell Danny's ignoring him. He fastens the cape around the kid and
clippers get turned on and that sound makes my dick buzz a little. I try
concentrating on the article I'm reading. It's about the Boston Celtics'
chances of making the Finals this year. I look up occasionally hoping to
see Danny going nuts on that little prick's hair but he's doing a basic
regular haircut. Yeah, but it's with Danny's trademark signature treatment
of giving everyone short haircuts no matter what style which is not what
the little prick was saying he wanted during all those instructions Danny
ignored.  When Danny's almost done Mickey's feeling his head and bitching
that it's too short.

He keeps bitching in that annoying voice of his as I'm snickering behind my
magazine because Danny is totally ignoring everything the kid says. Danny
told me he couldn't give a shit less if guys don't come back. He's got so
many guys coming for haircuts now he wouldn't even notice if someone
dropped out. I believe Danny's exact words were... 'Fuck 'em!' Anyway,
Mickey's the last guy here who needs a haircut... except for moi.

And then a black guy and a girl come in the door without knocking
first. Looking at my watch I see it's twenty minutes after three
already. Danny yells, "Sly, my man! Dude, wassup?" and the black guy goes,
"My dick! Wassup with you, barber man?" Danny's outlining around Mickey's
ears, just about done the haircut as Sly adds, "My girl wanted to see you,
Danny. Her friend says you hot and Janneen wants to see for herself." His
girlfriend has a ginormous ass. She smiles and says, "He hot, Sly. Lawella
be right!" Danny grins and acts smug as Sly pats Janneen's ginormous ass
and says to her, "Okay, if you say so. Get going now and I'll hook up with
you over at Johnnie's."  She leaves, taking her ass with her and now I
suppose I need to wait for Danny to do this guy's haircut too. Jesus, have
I mentioned I sure do miss those Sunday haircuts?

What a nuthouse this is! Taking a deep breath I exhale noisily as Danny
finishes the haircut for complaining-Mickey. I say to the black dude, "Feel
free to go next. I wanna finish this article," and the guy holds his hand
out, saying, "Righteous!" and I slap his hand. Mickey and Hermie leave with
Mickey still complaining to Danny, and Danny still ignoring him. How does
he do that? How does he block out the noise like it isn't even there? And
then it becomes obvious this guy Sly is on the baseball team. I say that
because that's all they talk about during the haircut. I'm thinking about
locking the fucking door when this guy leaves 'cause this is getting
seriously ridiculous.

Then I get fascinated by watching Danny do Sly's haircut. It's a version of
the latest insane fad. Danny's basically shaving the hair off the sides and
back with the razor/trimmer clippers and then there's only a minimal fading
near the top of the sides and back. It takes a skill I do not
possess. Sly's hair sticks up about four inches off the top of his head and
he tells Danny to just barely even it off. There's no outlining around the
guy's ears because Danny, as I said, used the trimmer/razor clippers to
literally shave the hair to the scalp halfway up above Sly's ears. And
Sly's isn't even the wildest hairdo I've seen around campus. Actually, it's
fairly mild compared to other hairdos I've seen on guys' heads. Danny's
doing everything slowly too, probably because they're having a good time
laughing and ragging on some of their teammates.

Danny finally can't drag it out any longer and he takes the barber cape off
Sly. They do a chest bump and then Sly leaves ignoring me completely. Good!
I don't know him and I don't want to know him... this place is a fucking
insane asylum.

But now it's so quiet in here it's eerie. Danny sits in the barber chair,
saying, "Oh, man! Give me five minutes, Dylan. Let me rest my feet. I
didn't even have lunch today. Well, that's not entirely true because
Dresler brought me a slice of pizza, cold pizza, around one o'clock. I'm
not complaining though... this was a fun day. I love doing this shit." I
mumble, "I'm happy for you," and then, "Um, I've been thinking, ah, I don't
know what haircut to ask you about. Um, but maybe... ya know that haircut
you did for the mouthy Mickey kid?" He looks at me and nods, muttering,
"Yeah, what about it?" I go, "I think I'd like a haircut like that. Exactly
the way you did his haircut. I don't know, it's short but it looked cool."
Danny looks over again, saying, "Really? Sort of like Rob's haircut, huh?"
I go, "No, don't do it exactly like Rob's. Um, don't you think the one you
did for the skinny big-mouth kid was different than Robs? A little
different." Danny makes a 'face', mumbling, "Gee, you look so good with the
crewcut. Well, we'll think about it, but you look hot and sexy with a
crewcut... just saying"

Yeah, I liked the crewcut but with my hair growing out for almost two
months I should take this opportunity for something different. Danny seems
okay with doing a version of a regular haircut for me so I'm leaving it at
that. Once you've made the sale... shut up. That's the salesmen's
motto. And, holy shit, it was just yesterday I got Danny to take 'no' for
an answer twice, and now he just gave in about my choice of haircut. Hee
hee, yeah, I wanna be like Mickey. The little pecker! Then I break my own
rule by trying to be magnanimous in victory and complimenting Danny's
crewcut ability. I say, "Not that you don't do a great crewcut 'cause the
couple you've done for me are, seriously, the best I've ever seen on
anyone." Danny mumbles, "Aw, you're nice to say that."

I say, "It's just that I'd rather go in a different direction this time."
He, of course, wasn't paying attention as he exclaims, "Oh, Dylan baby, I
just remembered what I wanted to tell you. Specks will be staying home
until Monday morning so we can sleep in my bed tonight. No more sofa for
us! Not tonight anyway." I'm like, "Oh shit! I'd love to do that but Robby
will be back early tonight. I think he said as early as five o'clock."
Danny jumps up out of the chair, "You mean to tell me Rob's leaving his dad
with a broken fucking back?" I mutter, "It's not broken... it's strained or
something." Naturally, I'm not telling Danny this, but the fact is I can
hardly wait to see Robby.

Sitting back down, Danny goes, "Dammit. Sleeping with you was the best
night's sleep I ever had. I loved having you draped all over me." I'm like,
"I wasn't draped all over you. That sofa is too small for both of us. I was
on you a little, sure, but..." He goes, "Who are you kidding, Dylan? I
could tell you loved it too." I shrug, and then mumble, "Well, yeah, but I
wasn't draped all over you." He shrugs and I ask, "Um, can I give you a
haircut after mine? I'm in the mood ya might say." Danny goes, "You and I
had a deal last night, remember? You were supposed to be sweeping up the
hair today but instead, you bagged out on me."

I walk over to him, trying to avoid stepping in all the cut hair on the
floor, I run my fingers through his hair, saying, "C' mon, Danny, you need
a haircut more than me and I miss doing Rob's haircuts. Oh, and don't get
upset but Robby had to go to a barber in Framingham Friday morning. He
needed to get a haircut before his dad saw him." Danny stretches his legs
out, mumbling, "The traitor. Maybe he can go to the Framingham barber next
time too." I go, "It was a fucking emergency, for Christ sake. Nothing
against you."

Danny looks at me and then gestures at all the cut hair around the barber
chair and says, "If you sweep up all this hair and use the dustpan and
brush to get it all neatly in the wastebasket I'll let you give me a
haircut when I'm done with yours." Scratching my head and making a 'face',
I'm thinking... Hmm, do I wanna do that? Fuck, why not? I say, "Yeah,
okay," and get the push broom that's leaning against the closet door and
then emphatically say, "After I do this you better not go back on your
word." He mumbles, "I probably won't," and he stretches his legs out again
while stretching his arms out too as he does a big yawn. I sweep the
different colored hair into a pile and Danny says, "Fuck, I didn't realize
how tired my legs were until I sat down."

I say, "Well, how about if you stay in the chair and I'll do your haircut."
He ignores that and goes, "The dustpan and brush are under Specks' bed and
please be careful to get all the hair off the floor or Specks will give me
a load of shit. Christ, I don't need him bitching at me again." The pile of
hair I sweep up looks weird with the different colored hair clippings, some
are long meaning some guy's long hair was cut very short. Fuck, I'd like to
have watched that haircut. Danny's still mumbling, "I try to keep our room
hair free and I think I do a damn good job of it too, but Specks is hard to
please. I tell him...give me a fucking break, bro." I'm pretty sure last
summer when Specks and Danny were emailing and texting one another about
being roommates Danny failed to mention he was turning their room into a
barbershop every Saturday.

When I have the floor as clean as I can get it, Danny stands up and says,
"Thanks, baby. That's a big help." I mutter, "I should have waited to sweep
up until after our haircuts." He motions at the barber chair, and says,
"So, you can do it again after. For now, have a seat." I sit down and get
that weird feeling in my belly and balls again. The one I always get before
a haircut... it's like a scary/nervous feeling. Very weird, not that
there's anything I can do about it.

Danny puts the cape around me and then fastens it behind my neck. He combs
through my hair, me in my normal jittery mode in a barber chair... my
fetish is both infuriatingly stupid as well as extremely sexually
arousing. As I said, it's weird. Danny attaches what looks to me like a
fairly small guide to the clippers, clippers that used to be mine. That's
the first one I ever bought on eBay. Since then I've bought an older
version of trimmer clippers, and then Robby bought a new one last summer,
and Danny bought new trimmer/shaver clippers after that. So my original one
is only used now for bulk haircutting. My hair has grown out quite a bit
and its dense hair. Danny wouldn't need the clipper he just put the small
attachment on if he intended doing the haircut for me he did for the skinny
big-mouth kid... and ya know what, I don't care.

He puts a finger under my chin lifting gently, saying, "Keep your head up
for me while I do this," and he starts an inch or so back from my bangs
pushing the clippers into my hair on top. The clippers make that sound they
make when cutting through a lot of hair as he pushes the buzzing clippers
back through the dense longish hair on the top of my head. When the big
load of hair drops off behind me the clippers sound different. Danny
casually brings the clippers back and starts next to the first run and
pushes through my almost two-inch long hair on top and again the clippers
make the sound of cutting through lots of hair. I'm sitting here with my
cock-of-stone poking up my jeans as I grovel with my fetish. Of course,
Danny is completely unaware of the emotions soaring around my body.

Each run of the clippers over the top of my head leaves a trail of short
hair bristling straight up. As Danny's making the fifth run of the clippers
over my head, he says, "I'm experimenting here with something, baby. I'm
going with a one-third inch guide on top instead of a half inch one. I
think a crewcut with longer hair at the front, which is the main difference
between a burr haircut and a crewcut, might look better contrasting-wise
with really short hair on top. I got the idea from looking at pictures of
various crewcuts online last week when I was scrolling through a couple of
tutorial sites. Naturally, I was specifically thinking of you but there are
a few other guys I've done crewcuts for. Anyway, we'll see how it turns
out, ya know?"

To that I manage to grunt, "Oh," and he chuckles, muttering, "Fuck, it's
looking wicked-short though," and he does another run through the last of
the longish hair on top of my head, adding, "Actually, I think it looks too
short now but I haven't cut the side and back, or your long bangs yet." He
does another run of the clippers where my skull begins curving to the sides
and I hear another sound of lots of hair being cut by those awesome old
clippers. I can just imagine the pile of hair that fell off the back of my
head. So much for my idea of a haircut like Mickey's.

As usual, there's no hesitation in Danny. He runs the clippers back through
my hair without any concern that just ten minutes ago I said I wanted a
different haircut. A crewcut doesn't take long. He took maybe two minutes
eliminating two months hair-growth on top of my head and then he goes over
everything again pressing down a little to make sure it's totally even all
over.

As I already said, I don't care that Danny's doing the crewcut again. I
wasn't all that sure what I wanted and if I had been on a regular
three-week schedule of getting a haircut, I wouldn't have given a thought
to getting something other than a crewcut. Anyway, I'm enjoying my fetish
that's deliciously sexy-feeling right now so that's primarily what's
occupying my mind. I feel submissively good getting an unexpected too short
haircut.

It may sound I'm rationalizing but I sincerely am glad Danny ignored my
vague idea of a longer hairstyle. I didn't know what I wanted anyway 'cause
it's so rare I've had anything remotely like long hair over the years. The
exception was the beginning of last summer and I discovered long hair was a
pain in the ass. I feel way more comfortable with short haircuts because
that's what I'm used to and while I might complain, I do like short
haircuts best. And the thing is, while Danny's haircuts are usually short
ones, they're not as short as most of the haircuts Willie or Ryan insisted
I have. Crazy I know, but some of the times with those two my cock got so
hard I thought it would break off during the haircuts they had me get, or
gave me themselves in Ryan's case. I actually occasionally fantasize about
some of those times I had with Ryan, and Willie too although Willie and I
were boys. With Ryan it was more like the real thing... sub/dom experiences
the likes of which I never expect to ever have again.

Danny starts cutting the longish hair at the back and the clippers continue
buzzing and cutting hair for five or six more minutes before he turns off
the clippers and picks up the barber scissors he stole from me. No, he
didn't steal them, I gave them to him. He combs up my bangs and begins
cutting through them until they're much shorter although not nearly as
short as the rest of my hair on top.

As I watched the cut hairs from my bangs falling in front of my eyes I
almost shot off in my pants. It felt so good I was hoping I would. The
tipping point was almost reached, but not quite and then Danny is
done. Standing back a little, he says, "Shit, I guess you'll need to train
the front hairs to stand up again, baby. I left it long enough that it
won't stick up on its own. Why'd you go so long between haircuts anyway?"

That feeling I had of almost climaxing makes me feel weak. I manage to
mutter, "It was, um, I don't know," He shakes his head, mumbling, "Jesus,
Dylan, what am I gonna do with you?"

Coming down off my near climax experience makes my shoulders do a slight
shudder. Oh man, that would have been the first climax in my pants from a
haircut in a few years. It would have been an epic experience.

Danny hums something off-key as he rubs some hair gel in my front hairs and
then brushes it up a few times. Next, he uses the hairdryer and after ten
seconds of that racket he turns it off, saying, "There's my boyfriend
again. Now you look perfect, baby! I love how butch you look with this
crewcut. It's better than the flattop, but not by much." I shrug and sort
of grin at him 'cause I've got this major 'thing' for Danny. He goes,
"Christ, I still remember you as a fourteen-year-old with as cute a flattop
on your young head as I've ever seen."

I never had a flattop haircut until Willie insisted I have one when I was
seventeen. No use telling Danny that AGAIN! Haha, nope, he believes what he
wants to believe. There's still no mirror in here except the small handheld
one that Danny's handing me now as he's saying, "So, yeah, as I said, I
wanted to see what it'd look like going shorter on top but, as I said, I
left the front longer. It's long enough that you can comb it over slightly
if you want. Personally, I like seeing you with it combed up in front so
that's the way I did it."

He steps back and stares at my hair and then goes, "Yeah, next time I'll go
back to my original idea for the length on top. This looks too short to me
although the professionals suggest a quarter inch on top and I did it an
eight-inch longer than their recommendation... and I still think it looks
too short. When I get used to seeing it though I may change my mind. We'll
see, baby. It's only a matter of opinion anyway, right?"

I'm gawking at myself in the mirror, as he adds, "I'll outline around your
ears and you'll be good for another couple of weeks. Three weeks is okay if
you wanna wait that long." As he's outlining around my ears I'm still
looking in the mirror thinking my haircut looks fine. I'm glad Danny made
the decision for me, and I agree with him, I like this better than the
flattop too... much better as a matter of fact.

After carefully outlining around my ears, Danny takes the cape off me, and
says, "Um, is it okay if you do my haircut tomorrow? Let's you and me get
naked and then get in bed. I'll lock the door so no Johnny-come-latelies
walk in on us."

Why argue, he'll just ignore me, and anyway I like his idea a lot. Feeling
my short hair again, I grin at Danny as we're both taking our boots off. He
goes, "I can tell you like your haircut. You do, don'cha?" I shrug,
mumbling, "It's okay I guess." He laughs and then mutters, "That's all
you've got to say... it's okay? Okay then, you're really gonna get it now."
I go, "Oh, no!" and he says, "Christ, I'm all horned up from giving you
that haircut. This is how I think you look best, ya know?"

He's got his socks off struggling to pull his skinny jeans off now, as he
mutters, "When we're together permanently that's how I'm always gonna cut
your hair. I'll probably never get tired of seeing you with that haircut
and, hey, think of all the money we'll be saving doing each other's
haircuts." I go, "Uh huh..." and then I remind him we don't have a lot of
time because Rob said he could be back as early as five o'clock.

When we're both in Danny's unmade bed, our naked bodies slide together
deliciously. Then, Danny reaches under his ass and pulls out a Sports
Illustrated magazine that he tosses on the floor and says, "C' mon, baby,
show me how much you appreciate me. I know you do, it's in your eyes. Make
the look in your eyes, um, physical appreciation," and he pushes on my head
a little. I slip down under the disheveled covers, sliding on his body and
when I'm between his legs I take his dick in my fingers. My hair feels
funny against the sheet. The hair on top that's wicked short sort of
scrapes against the sheets. It's too short and stiff to bend back with the
weight of the sheet and blanket. My long hairs in front bend back flat
against my scalp. I don't care about that though because, wow, it sure
smells sexily of Danny under these covers.

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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