Date: Thu, 4 Jul 2019 17:15:04 +0000 (UTC)
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter. 52

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter. 52

by  Donny  Mumford



Friday morning Rob and I have minor hangovers. It's the same old story of
too many beers plus a couple of 'shots' of Old Grand-Dad, this time at the
Beef and Ale House after Merrimack's home opener. The team lost the game
one to nothing, but they split their first four games that they played at
colleges located south of here where the weather's better. Their record
after five games is 2 wins and 3 losses. Rob said, "A typical start and
nothing to worry about." Basically, he's rationalizing away the team's poor
start. I think these first five games are probably fairly representative of
how the entire season will play out. This is Rob's last season as a member
of an organized baseball team and even though I'm hoping upon hope it will
be a successful one, it isn't looking promising.

Obviously, we've had past experiences with hangovers so we know extra sleep
is the first step to recovering, and we did sleep late plus we then
hydrated by drinking a quart of Gatorade each along with three Advil and
lastly, we each had a bowl of Oatmeal 'cause we feel we need something in
our stomachs to soak up the last of the booze, psychologically it works too
'cause by the afternoon we're feeling better and finally, we work up the
energy to shower and get dressed.

In the kitchen Rob's popping the tab on a can of Coke, asking me, "Aren't
we supposed to be doing something today, Dylan?" I'm sitting in the living
room with my book on my lap contemplating whether I feel like reading it or
not. Looking up, I'm like, "Nope, nothing we NEED to do although I guess we
could pack what we want to bring home with us for spring break." He
swallows a mouthful of Coke and mumbles, "Okay, yeah, that's what I must
have been thinking about but, um, we can do that later."

Late last night I sort of shared a joint with Danny although I don't think
it had any appreciable effect on me one way or the other. I say 'sort' of
sharing a joint because I exhaled immediately after inhaling. You're
supposed to hold the smoke in your lungs so it gets in your bloodstream or
some such shit. That was the first marijuana I've had in a couple of
years. Danny's hard to say 'no' to so I took the easy way out and pretended
to smoke it with him. Oh, wait! Speaking of Danny, I go, "Ya know what,
Rob? We need to think about getting haircuts before we leave for home
tomorrow. You know, to avoid a hassle with your parents. Nothing against
your mom and dad, but... ya know."

He goes, "For Christ sake, Dylan, we're twenty-two friggin' years old. Who
cares what mom and dad have to say about our fucking hair?" Well, that's a
crock of shit! I give him a 'look' and he goes, "What I mean is, we
probably should get haircuts anyway, but it has nothing to do with them. We
need to do it sooner or later, right?" Rob's obviously in a rationalizing
mood today. I let it slide though, only saying, "Yeah, good point,
Rob. Anyway, Danny said to get to his dorm early tomorrow morning. That's
what he tells everybody."

Rob's pacing the floor, restless to do something. It's almost three o'clock
and we've basically done nothing all day. He says, "I wanted to leave early
tomorrow morning and there will be a lot of guys at Danny's getting a
haircut before spring break, right?" I go, "Nah. Most guys don't give a
shit about their hair... not enough to feel they need to get a haircut for
spring break... get serious! Christ, that's probably the last thing on
their mind." Robby goes, "Well, there doesn't need to be very many who do
want a haircut! We don't want to wait for, let's say, eight or ten guys
getting haircuts in front of us? Fuck that!" Hmmm, I'm not sure I like
where this is heading so I'm like, "What are you saying?" Rob says, "Just
that Danny's finished his Friday class by now, so we'll get our haircuts
this afternoon. Get it out of the way so we can leave for home early
tomorrow... or leave any time we want."

Hmm, Danny ain't gonna do any haircutting today, not on a Friday
afternoon. I'll let Rob find out for himself. Danny's told me any number of
times that making an exception for me would open the floodgates to everyone
asking for special treatment. Saturdays are the only day he sets aside for
giving free haircuts which is sort of becoming his favorite hobby, I
think. Haha, and Danny's getting a tad self-important about being the
world-famous campus barber... in his mind, if in no one else's.

The majority of guys on campus, if they think about haircuts at all, they
do it as an after-thought or a random necessary pain in the ass. And a lot
of them simply go along with whatever the latest trendy haircut style
happens to be. Others give it even less thought than that! Christ, look at
the hair on guys walking by you every day and tell me those guys give a
shit.

I'm in the minority caring about my hair but still, I've often let my
boyfriends dictate my haircuts but that's where my haircut fetish comes
in. So, one way or another I care about my haircut even though sometimes I
don't have a choice about it, haha!  NO, it's actually a fun thing for me
while for most, as I said, it's a necessary pain in the ass and something
to take care of as infrequently as they can get away with... I 'get' that.

Lying here on the sofa with my unopened book, there's a smirk on my face as
I listen to Rob talking to Danny on the phone. Robby likes to walk around
when he's on the phone and he's in the kitchen when I hear him shout,
"Goddamit!" as he exaggeratingly pokes the 'end' button on his phone. I'm
like, "What?" and he goes, "That asshole Danny refuses to do haircuts
except on Saturdays. The fucker won't make an exception for us. Can you
believe that?" I go, "You gotta be shitting me!" He points at his phone,
saying, "I just got off the phone with him." Shaking my head, I'm like,
"Well, that sucks."

Rob stalks around the living room and then says, "Get your coat,
babe. We'll get haircuts in town. I'm not sitting on the floor in Danny's
dorm tomorrow like a ten year old kid waiting for my 'boy's regular'
haircut. It's one thing when you're a kid and don't have anything else to
do, but we need to leave tomorrow morning." No, we don't! There's nothing
we need to be home for. We could go home on Sunday, or next Wednesday for
that matter. We have no plans for spring break.

I'm still on the sofa as Rob's putting his coat on. I go, "But, um, don't
you remember that sucky haircut you got at your childhood's old time
favorite Framingham barbershop?" He's holding my coat out to me, saying,
"Yeah, it wasn't great but it was serviceable. Hey, babe, seriously, um,
you're the only one who notices shit like that. No offense, but..." I sit
up, asking, "But what?"

He holds my coat out again, shaking it now to get my attention. I ignore it
and he mumbles, "Oh, nothing," and I go, "You were gonna say something,"
and he's a little frustrated now as he says, "A haircut is simply not all
that fucking important! That's all I meant, and it just pisses me off that
Danny's so high and mighty about his fucking barbershop rules. Fuck him!"
I'm still on the sofa making a 'face', muttering, "Really? You wanna get a
haircut in town? Hey, they're all women barbers in those barbershops." He
goes, "So what? C'mon, get up." I'm like, "Jesus Christ, okay already!"
Sitting up, I add, "You're just pissed at Danny and now you're gonna cut
your nose off to spite your face. Give me that fucking phone, I'll call
Danny and straighten this out." Robby rolls his eyes and goes, "Go ahead,
call him."

You see Robby's one of those guys I was talking about. He'd like a good
haircut, sure, but he's not gonna wait for one. And, as for saving the
money and getting a free haircut, he doesn't give a flying fuck about
spending twenty dollars for a shitty haircut. It's mind blowing!

Danny answers his phone chuckling, before saying, "Rob, what is it about
the word 'no' that's confusing you?" I'm like, "You've got no room to talk
about the word 'no'! Cut the shit, Danny. It's me," He cheerfully says,
"Hi, baby. No, I'm not giving haircuts today." I go, "Well then I'm afraid
I'm gonna have to say... fuck you! Rob and I are on our way out the door to
get haircuts in town." He goes, "I'm sorry to hear that, but rules are
rules." I go, "Fuck a whole bunch of rules! We're your best friends and we
absolutely need to be home early tomorrow morning!" He's a little pissed
off now too, so he says, "Oh, yeah? Um, aren't you the one who told me
about rules not being broken? You remember, when Rob was away and you
explained to me that rule you have, the rule that you don't make exceptions
to? Your rule about no one sleeping in your bed but Rob and you." Glancing
over at Rob as if he could somehow hear that, I give a weak muttered, "Oh,
that. Yeah, but that was, um, different."

He says, "I love you, but I'm sorry. Get here early tomorrow
morning. What's the problem, you guys are too important to wait fifteen
minutes?" I hold my phone against my chest and say to Rob, "Let's wait
until tomorrow morning, Robby. We'll hurt Danny feelings. He feels awful
we're getting haircuts in town." Robby goes, "Haha! He doesn't feel awful,
that's bullshit. C'mon, babe, let's go!" I make another 'face'
whining. "Really?" He's like, "Jesus, how many times do I need to tell
you...it's simply not this big a deal! A million guys do it every fucking
day." I'm pissed off now at both Danny and Rob, so I say to Danny, "Thanks
a lot for nothing, you prick!" and end the call.

Robby tosses my coat to me and I put it on as Robby saying. "There are
three barbershops in a one block area downtown on Main Street. One of those
shops will have a man barber for you... okay? If there's a lady barber I'll
take her 'cause I don't fucking care." I make my third 'face' at him in the
last two minutes, muttering, "I don't give a shit either," and he goes,
"Good! Um, and we're also going to whichever barbershop we don't need to
wait at... get it the fuck over with. Jesus!" I have nothing to say so Rob
mutters, "I hate waiting in barbershops." I mimic a muttered, "I hate
waiting in barbershops," as we go out the door.

Well, you could say Rob and I have differing opinions about this haircut
situation. And I don't want to watch old guys getting haircuts, which is
who you mostly see in these local barbershops. On the other hand, I'm cool
with watching young guys, yeah I can get into watching haircuts for younger
guys who are getting short haircuts. Hey, I'm dealing with a fetish here so
ease up on the judgmental shit! And, of course, I know the vast majority of
guys aren't dealing with a haircut fetish, and I also know it ain't my
fault I need to deal with it and, no, it can't be ignored. And then there's
the fact that Danny's simply my favorite barber of all time so I'm pissed
off I need to miss that sexy experience. He's being an asshole though, plus
I need to back up my boyfriend, so here we go.

But, yeah, I'm pouting. I'm twenty-two and I'm pouting, so bite me if you
don't like it. How could Danny turn me away like that? And how can Robby
insist on this idiotic trip to downtown North Andover? I'm being let down
by my two of my three favorite guys in the world. Chubby would never make
me do this. He has understanding and compassion, plus he likes to spoil the
shit out of me. Yeah, he likes to do that...

In the pickup, Rob's like, "Snap out of it, Dylan! Danny's not going to be
our barber after college so what's the difference if we miss this one
haircut with him?" Huh, I never thought about it like that, but why
couldn't Danny be our barber after we graduate? He has his garage
barbershop with that real barber chair his mom's boyfriend bought for him
while trying to suck up to his girlfriend's son. Yeah, the chair is in his
dorm room now but he'll bring it home with him. Fuck it though, I'm not
arguing with Rob about this fool's errand. Our frames of reference are so
completely different there's no starting point for an argument, not without
me looking like a freak with a haircut fetish. It's not Rob's fault, and
it's not mine either... it's Danny's fault we're in this sucky situation.

As unfair as this to me, I'm over it. I'm mature enough to get over
disappointments no matter how idiotic the reason for my disappointment. The
fact of the matter is if it weren't for Rob's parents we'd wait until after
spring break to get haircuts, but I'm not throwing that in Rob's face
'cause that's not his fault either. This is all Danny's fault.

Rob drives down Route 114 heading for the center of town while
sarcastically mumbling, "Danny's not gonna be our barber the rest of our
lives, right?" I mutter, "Don't be ridiculous and how many times are you
going to make the same point, which is a wrong point in the first place?"
He mutters, "Was that a question?" and then he looks at me, asking, "Why in
the hell do you still have that 'puss' on your face?" I look out the window
muttering, "I'm sure I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. This
is the only face I've got."

He makes a rude sound and then I casually mention, "It's no big deal, but
I've finally felt good about this haircut from Danny and now I shudder to
think how badly some cunt barber is going to fuck it up." He goes, "Uh
huh. Maybe the professional cunt barber won't fuck it up at all,
Dylan. Maybe she'll do it better than Danny. Have you ever thought of that
possibility? We're going to a professional barber... Danny's an amateur."
I'm like, "Well, Captain Obvious, you've mentioned to me how badly the last
professional barber cut your hair... or did I misunderstand what you were
saying?" He says, "Oh, bullshit. That haircut wasn't great but it wasn't
horrible either. What the fuck difference does it make anyway. Hair grows
back fast! Especially yours."

I'm like, "Whatever," and he says, "Okay, good... I'll settle for a
'whatever' from you." A minute later he goes, "And ya know, babe, we'll be
done with this in like ten minutes. Get it out of the way now and we can
leave whenever we're ready tomorrow. Hell, you don't want to hang around
for an hour or more in that crowded little dorm room tomorrow morning with
all the bullshit going on in there. It's a fucking zoo on Saturday
mornings... and stop pouting!" I yell, "I'm not fucking pouting! I'm mad at
Danny for not making an exception for his two best friends, that's
all. It's Un-American is what it is." Robby laughs and then mutters,
"You're Goddamn right it is... that fucking Un-American Danny Monday." I
mutter, "I'm serious..."

Rob parks on Main Street next to the barbershop, the one across the street
from the post office. Looking at the rather rundown old barbershop, I roll
my eyes as Rob pats my leg and says, "I'm gonna treat us to dinner at
Burton's tonight. We can wear hats if our hair looks like shit after
professional barbers cut it. It's gonna be an early dinner too because I'm
hungry. And, as I said, it'll be my treat, okay?" I look at him, muttering,
"Don't patronize me. I'm not ten years old." He snorts out a laugh, saying,
"I'm sorry. How old are you, little boy?" I go, "I'm not in the mood to do
our little kid and old pervert act, alright?"

As we're getting out of the pickup, Robby tries for cheerful, saying,
"Seriously, I'm looking forward to a delicious dinner at Burtons. I mean,
all we had for breakfast was that small bowl of gruel and then no
lunch. Doesn't dinner at Burtons sound perfect?" Ignoring that, I look in
the big plate glass window of the barbershop and see a man barber of about
sixty years of age and a younger woman barber with tattoos all down one
arm, plus many facial piercings. The man is cutting the hair of an old
wrinkled man with white hair and the woman is sitting there ready to pounce
on the next victim who walks in the door. I say, "Not this barbershop!" Rob
looks in the window, asking, "Why not? What's wrong with it?" I go, "Are
you kidding me? That tattooed lady scares me and if you volunteered to get
in her butcher chair that means I'd be in the old barber's chair and he'll
put that barber cape around me with old man white hair clippings on it!
That's what's wrong with it."

Robby goes, "Oh, that," and we walk across the street and then down a block
to the CVS Mall where the 'Family Barbershop' is located. It's one of the
stores in this 'L' shaped strip mall. As we approach the shop, Robby asks,
"Do you have money with you?" I nod my head and look in the window of the
'Family Barbershop'. Two women barbers, one is old and frumpy-looking and
the other is young but I see a light flash reflection off her nose ring,
plus she looks angry, really pissed-off about something. Maybe because
customers are afraid to go into her barbershop. I turn to Rob and say
emphatically, "I'm not going in there! Look at those two!" He looks in the
window and breaks out laughing. Then says, "What's wrong with them? The
lady with a ring through her nose looks friendly." I go, "It's not funny,
Rob. That scary bitch with the nose ring is wicked pissed about something
and the older lady has blue fucking hair. How seriously do you think she'll
be about our hair if she dyes her hair blue?" He looks in the window again
and says, "I believe the lady has prematurely gray hair. She couldn't be
more than forty years old." I mutter, "Are you fuckin' color blind? That's
blue hair!"

He mutters, "Oh, man..." and then he looks around shaking his head. I
mutter, "I'm not going in there but you go ahead if you want. I'll wait in
the pickup. I'd rather listen to your mom and dad saying how disappointed
they are about my shoddy appearance. That's preferable than going in that
barbershop with those scary fucking lady barbers. And that's final." He
takes a deep breath and blows it out slowly, then asks, "Do you want to try
the little barbershop on the other side of the street? The one near the
donut shop." I shrug, saying, "You go ahead, Rob, but that's basically for
ladies only. Oh sure, she put that sign up saying it's only ten dollars for
a guy's first haircut. What's that tell you about her success getting men
to venture in there? Plus, have you ever seen the old lady, the so-called
hairstylist? She's about seventy." He rubs his face and snorts out a laugh
before saying. "Omigod, how about SuperCuts in the Ace Hardware mall?" The
'look' I give him makes him say, "No, of course not."

I shrug as though we gave it our best shot, what more can we do? Rob looks
around as if there's another option, which there isn't, and then he snorts
out another laugh before saying, "This is so fucked. Okay, I guess if I can
say it's not that important, as I said earlier, that works both ways. It
shouldn't be that important to me either. We'll try Danny's tomorrow
morning." I shrug again, mumbling, "If that's what you wanna do." He makes
a 'face' at me, muttering, "What I want to do, huh?" I look around as if
I'm desperately trying to think of someplace else we could try.

Robby pat's my back getting us walking back to the pickup as he says, "But
if it's a zoo in there, in Danny's dorm room, we'll get our haircuts at
home, right? Do I have your word on that?" I shrug, muttering, "I don't
care. All I'm saying is these places would be a mistake." He rolls his eyes
for the third time in the last five minutes, chuckling and then mumbling,
"Uh huh, so I guess we'll go back to the apartment and pack up the shit we
want to take home with us tomorrow."

As we walk, I'm like, "We could try barbershops in other towns. Haverhill
is only eight miles from here." He snorts out another laugh and goes, "No,
that's alright. We'll try Danny's tomorrow morning, early." I'm like,
"Whatever you decide is fine with me." He goes, "I'd drive to Haverhill
except it's well known all Haverhill barbershops are run by tattooed and
pissed-off blue-haired lady barbers." I go, "There's no need to make fun of
me, Robby. I just saved you from a hideous mistake and twenty dollars." He
goes, "Thanks, babe. I just pray we're not having this discussion when
we're forty-five-fucking-years-old." I mumble, "Ha, whatever the hell that
has to do with anything I can't imagine."

Rob doesn't even seem frustrated. I think he agrees with me about these
bogus barbershops but won't admit it. Driving back to the apartment we
discuss where we might want to vacation for a few days during spring
break. Rob says, "Definitely a few days in the sun but let's avoid
shit-storm places like we've gone to the last three years. We need to go
someplace that isn't a resort town known for spring break." I go, "You
prefer a quiet spot huh? And maybe a spot that's a little bit on the
high-class side. Hey, a high-class hotel in a sunny location will
undoubtedly have a barbershop with professional male barbers, right?" He
nods, "We don't want to put off getting haircuts that long, do we?" I go,
"Whatever the fuck you decide is okay by me, Rob. Let's Google that shit
and see what we find. We'll Google classy hot spots not known for
attracting spring break college students." Robby goes, "Oh, man."

Back at the apartment, we don't Google anything. We spend about an hour
deciding what to bring home with us and then pack it up without mentioning
anything more about haircuts. At five-thirty we drive down Route 114 again
and have an awesome dinner at Burtons Restaurant. Its official name is,
Burtons Grill and Bar. We have a couple of cocktails before dinner and then
an appetizer each, and for our main course we both have the large filet
mignon and we both have dessert and coffee too. The meal cost Rob
$209.00. He's no cheapskate... not anymore he's not. I think Dodger giving
Rob that thousand dollars somehow broke Rob of the cheapskate habit. That's
good 'cause nobody likes a cheapskate. Well, I'd still love him if he
remained a cheapskate but nobody else would, ya know? This is better for
Rob, and everyone else involved.

As we're walking out of Burtons, I'm like, "That was awesome, Robby! Thank
you so much! We really should do this every week." He laughs and gives my
shoulders a hug, saying, "Well, you deserve it and all that. You being a
super cooperative boyfriend who is never a pain in the ass, so yeah, I'll
be buying you dinner every week at Burtons restaurant. Good idea and a done
deal." I go, "And don't forget I saved us forty dollars by rejecting those
awful barbershops." He goes, "I forgot that! C'mon, we'll go to a bar and
I'll buy you forty dollars worth of after dinner drinks to make up for
that." I'm like, "Thanks! Yeah, the Marriott Hotel in Andover has a nice
cocktail lounge."

We don't go to the Marriott. Instead, we go back and have sex in every room
in the apartment. We don't plan anything. It started on its own by us doing
a few sweet kisses on the sofa and that gets me aroused and I suck Rob's
dick and rim his ass. When his cock is hard as a rock, he gets me in a
headlock and drags me into the kitchen to fuck me as I'm leaning over the
kitchen table, Rob muttering, "Yeah, this table will do, it's closer than
the bedroom."

He uses Crisco for lubricant, saying, "Yeah, baby, improvisation is the
secret of genius." I go, "I think that's actually... 'Intuitive
improvisation is the secret of genius,' and then he rams his fat cock up my
Crisco packed ass. It took me by surprise and I yell out at the pain, as he
asks, "Are you absolutely sure the word 'intuitive' is necessary for that
saying?" Oh man, we started out with a lover's make out on the sofa and
then I worshiped his body with my tongue and then somehow Rob switched to
recreational fun-sex on the kitchen table... I love these sex marathons!

Fucking a big orgasm out on me, one that I shoot across the kitchen table,
Rob frowns and mumbles, "You should probably clean that up before
tomorrow's breakfast, babe," and then we rest on the sofa where it all
began, but I know we're not done. I can always tell when Rob's in the heat
of it. We talk lovers talk for a while and then get into another make out
until I'm like, "I gotta piss bad," and we both take a piss in the toilet
with Rob getting the idea we need to take a bath together. Rob suggests I
get the Astroglide from the bedroom, saying, "You know, babe, we might need
lube in the unlikely event we fuck in the tub. The Crisco might dissolve in
the hot water." That makes a lot of sense to me so I go off to get the lube
while Rob gets the water running in the tub. I'm figuring, sure we'll have
the Astroglide handy even though it's a long-shot we'll need lubricant for
anything during a bath.

And I'll be damned, as it turns out we do need it. We mess around bathing
each other until somehow I'm facing Robby sitting on his lap, our boners
bumping together. He goes, "Jesus, I better stroke lots of Astroglide on my
hard boner in case it somehow gets up your perfect ass." I'm like, "Wow,
you've got that Boy Scout shit down pat, Rob. Be prepared!" As he strokes a
glob of Astroglide on his fat hard cock, he's like, "Jesus, if it happens
that this bone-hard penis of mine does find its way up your ass I hope to
hell your legs are strong enough to ride on my boner long enough to get us
off." I push his hand away and stroke his fat cock for him, mumbling,
"Don't worry about that."

Then, dragging my fingers across his forehead, moving his bangs off to the
side, I'm like, "Your hair is almost in your eyes. You probably should
think about getting a haircut." He laughs out loud, and says, "Fuck
that. I'm worried your legs won't have the muscle mass to ride my boner and
do this fuck justice. I mean, in the unlikely event my boner should
accidentally end up in your rear end." I'm like, "Oh, no problem there,
Sir. This buddy of mine and I have been racking up the miles running on the
track so my legs are almost muscle-bound by now." Rob nods his head,
muttering, "Good," and then he grabs my waist, saying, "Up you go, let's
test this out. Be careful to come down slowly on my hard pee-pee if you
decide to sit on it." I lift up and then slide down his fat pole of a boner
with a shocked expression on my face, saying, "Oh no! It's way too
slippery." Robby goes, "Um, ya don't say." I nod, "Uh huh, I think it went
up my bumper and, jeez, it feels really good."

Actually, it does feel good and best of all there was almost no pain
because my asshole hasn't had a chance to close after our kitchen table
fuck. With my hands on Rob's shoulder and no help from him, I lift and sit,
lift and sit and do it for a minute or so and, Omigod, does this ever psych
me up! A fleeting memory of Mr. Trimbole lifting and dropping me onto his
equally fat albeit twice as long boner flew past my memory banks, but for
just an instant before my mind goes immediately back to these fabulous
sensations exploding in my rectum, pleasurable sensations that are off the
charts. Our bantering ceases as we both concentrate on how good this feels.

After three minutes or so, with pleasure spiking in my ass, I stifle a moan
and get my arms around the back of Rob's neck, my arms now helping me with
the lifting as I really do need to relieve some of the pressure on my
calves. With my forehead on his shoulders, I continue going up and down on
Rob's short fat pole with my entire body vibrating with pleasure, so much
so I try going up and down faster and faster, and Omigod, nothing can
possibly feel this good! There's a lot to be said for fucking yourself on a
willing partner's hard penis. You can control how quickly you want to get
'off'... sort of.

It seems longer to me because I'm doing all the work here but it's probably
only another maybe two minutes with both of us doing quiet moans and groans
at the sensations build toward another climax for both of us. Wonderful
sensations of my growing climax and then it hits me quickly and my squeal
is muffled against Rob's shoulder as my awesome boner shoots a hard
five-inch streak of cum onto Robby's right pec. It shot off no more than
ten seconds after Rob was struggling to hump his hips as he was emptying
his balls full of cum shooting all of it up my ass. The nipple of my right
pec is as hard as a pencil nub because my up and down motion got my
nip-ring flipping up and down stimulating my nipple that's super sensitive
anyway. I love that cool nip-ring!

After climaxing I'm exhausted and merely hang onto Rob's neck while the
last of my climax sensations fly around my groin and rectum. Rob yells,
"Holy shit that was hot!" I let out an exhausted groan as he asks, "Are you
okay, babe?" He asked that I assume because I'm breathing like a marathon
runner. Nodding my head against his shoulder, I manage to mumble, "I'm
good... that was a really, really, really good orgasm I just had."

Rob's wiping at the cum on his chest as I'm taking another big deep breath
and then I lift up far enough so Rob's cock can flop out of my ass making
me scrunch up my face and moan, "Ummm." My calves are sore as I turn around
to sit between Rob's legs, my back against his chest. He puts his arm
loosely around my waist and we watch random cum floating on the surface of
the bathwater without either of us commenting on it. We sit together like
this silently while our bodies attempt to return to normalcy. After a
while, I mumble, "The water's getting cool," and Rob goes, "Lean over and
pull the plug, babe." I do that and we wait until most of the water has
drained out before we stand up and turn the shower on. The skin on the pads
of my fingers are wrinkled by the time we're done with our extended fucking
in the tub, and bathing too of course.

The buzz from the two cocktails we had before dinner has faded noticeably
so we have a couple of beers in the kitchen, naked except for the towels
around our waist. We decide we want a smoke but don't feel like getting
dressed. Instead, we stay inside and blow the exhaled smoke out a
three-inch opening of the balcony's sliding glass doors. While smoking and
drinking beers we reminisce our most embarrassing experiences together,
ones that did not seem the least bit funny when they were happening but
we're laughing now, laughing like we're smoking pot instead of
Marlboros. We're 'high' on sex, not pot.

It's getting late so after smoking enough and drinking enough, we brush our
teeth and get in bed naked. Robby wraps his arms around me and we almost
fall sleep except I feel the need to murmur, "I love you, Rob," and that
gets a kiss from Rob and then we get into a full-blown make out, our hands
groping each other's privates until Rob finally gets me on my back and
fucks me slowly. This time he does it exactly the way lovers fuck, slow and
loving with kisses and murmured words of affection with us looking into
each other's eyes and then kissing every minute or so. I'd left the tube of
Astroglide in the bathroom but no problem because there's lubricant in my
rectum left over from the Crisco fuck and the Astroglide bathtub one.

This lover's sex goes on long enough that Rob's hips get tired from humping
and he stops, leaving his cock up my ass while we make out, exchanging so
much saliva our faces slide together in it. Rested, Robby finishes our
lover's fuck and I have a surprisingly big orgasm. I don't know about Rob's
climax but he let out a funny long moan and murmured, "Fantastic, baby," so
it was probably a good orgasm for him too. I'm not really sure if we fell
asleep with his cock still up my ass but Rob was lying on top of me when he
fell asleep.

When I wake up on Saturday morning my ass is a little sore. Nothing like
the soreness Mr. Trimbole was responsible for... not nearly that bad. My
sore rectum makes me smile because that was a damn good sex-a-thon, one of
our better ones actually. Just when I think it can't get any better BANG!
it gets better. The whole thing was totally unplanned and unexpected,
unexpected especially considering our disagreement about the haircut
dilemma. But, wow, extemporaneous sex is the best! I let Rob sleep for
twenty more minutes and by then I've finished with the bathroom and I'm
getting dressed. As I said, my ass is a little sore so I was prudent and
got out of bed not wanting to take the chance that when Rob wakes up
something would get us going at 'it' again.

As I'm putting my sneakers on, Robby rolls over in bed hugging his pillow,
saying, "You're already done in the bathroom, huh?" I grin, "Yes I am. It
didn't take very long. Maybe it was the forty-five minutes we bathed and
showered last evening, but I didn't feel the need to shower this morning."
He asks, "Ya wanna mess around with me in bed a little bit?" I go, "Hmm,
let me think... um, no!" He snickers, mumbling, "What's for breakfast?" As
I'm walking out of the bedroom, I say, "Get out of bed and find out." He
yells after me, "That's exactly what I'm gonna do."

Hmm, I'm thinking a pancake breakfast would hit the spot this morning so I
get the mix ready to pour on the griddle and then warm some maple syrup in
the microwave and put slices of Canadian bacon in a frying pan to
sauté lightly in butter. Feeling extra energetic I get the juicer
out from under the counter and squeeze eight big oranges which produces
enough orange juice for two four-ounce-glasses of freshly squeezed, cold
orange juice. Ya don't get as much juice from oranges as you think you'll
get, but whatever the amount is worth the effort because fresh squeezed
orange juice is approximately a hundred and forty-two times better than any
other kind, and I mean no matter what it says on the orange juice label for
orange juice bought at the store.

It's after ten o'clock when Robby comes out of the bedroom cleaned up,
smiling, and cheerfully saying, "What the fuck's cooking, sweetheart?" and
we both make snickering gagging-sounds because that term of endearment
still sounds creepy to us... so far. I imitate what his mom says to him
when he curses, "Language, Robert!" and then tell him what we're having for
breakfast and ask him, "Any hangover this morning?" Rob shakes his head,
"Nope, but it doesn't look like we're gonna be getting to Danny's
barbershop early, meaning I'll probably have a headache later." I'm like,
"We've got the next ten days to do whatever we want, so try looking at the
positives!" He mutters, "Yes, mommy."

After breakfast, it's only a five-minute drive to Merrimack's campus and
then Rob parks the pickup near dormitory row. This is the same parking lot
most people use for the soccer field and there's a soccer game at
noon. Glancing at my watch I see it's a little after eleven which is why
swarms of soccer fans are walking past us, some of the nitwits kicking
around a soccer ball. Finally getting around that crew we cross over from
the parking lot to the street Danny's dorm in on and Robby goes, "Remember
your promise, Dylan. If it's a zoo in there we leave and get our haircuts
at home, right?" I go, "Jesus! Yeah, I said I was okay with that
yesterday. Ya don't need to hit me over the head with it this early in the
morning." He nods, mumbling, "It's closer to noon than early in the morning
and I didn't hit you over the head with anything... I merely mentioned
it. Anyway, I know your word is good," I mutter back at him, "I still can't
believe that prick Danny is punking us like this."

Robby didn't hear me say that because he's stopped and bumping fist with a
couple of guys and I kept walking a few steps before stopping. Looking back
I see he's talking with two guys wearing Merrimack baseball
caps... undoubtedly teammates. One is a black guy who looks way too old to
be in college and the other guy looks very Italian. Well, he does!

I'm rolling my eyes because it's Rob who wanted to get an early start this
morning, which is already out of the question anyway. Huh, both those guys
are taller and bigger than Rob... lots of guys are bigger than Rob and
me. Anyway, I'm gonna stand here six feet away pretending I'm doing
something with my cell phone because I don't feel like making small talk
after being introduced to guys I don't know or hearing jock bullshit. Huh,
I guess I've somehow slipped into a bad mood. Haha, fuck, I didn't realize
that. My bad mood is probably because of Danny's pompous attitude and him
not treating his best friends the way he should.

Robby catches up with me, and says, "Jeez, some disturbing news. Orlando
just told me one of the freshman ballplayers got arrested last night for
being drunk and resisting arrest. Coach Davis will probably kick the kid
off the team and we think the kid has a partial scholarship too." I go,
"Too bad," and we turn onto the walk for Danny's dorm. I don't know any of
the guys Rob was talking about but I do feel bad for the freshman. Christ,
he's like eighteen or just turned nineteen and probably away from home for
the first time. So what if he got drunk... give him another chance! That's
what growing up is all about... learning from your mistakes and bad
choices. There's too much instant discipline being handed out in this
country. Let's get over the fucking hard ass Puritan cult ideology in
America! Oh man, I gotta chill out. Of course, on the other hand, the kid
could be a complete asshole and deserves everything he gets.

At Danny dormitory door, Rob doesn't do the polite knock before opening the
door and walking right in. What can I do except follow him in? There's a
guy sitting at the desk with Ear Pods, supposedly listening to music
privately although I can still hear the rap music he's listening to. It
must really be blaring in his head! Huh, and he's another guy I don't
believe I've ever seen before in my life. There are three guys playing
liar's poker on Danny's bed making a ruckus with their shouting and
laughter. All three of them are on the baseball team. I remember seeing
them in games last year. Of the forty guys on the team, I'll bet at least
half come to Danny for free haircuts which represent almost half his
customers. Actually, I'm surprised Danny isn't overwhelmed with clients
considering how convenient it is staying on campus for haircuts, plus he's
a really good barber... and he's free!

Robby mutters to me, "I gotta say 'hi' to the boys," and he goes right over
to his teammates on the bed and now there's extra yelling with the exchange
of greetings, plus fist bumping and what not. And they then start right in
breaking each other's balls with good-natured insults. Danny's ignoring the
noise as he looks at me and grins. I shrug at him and give him a little
smile that could mean anything. He's not acting smug about Robby and I
showing up here... he's cool with it.

One of the three ballplayers, a guy I once spent an hour with at a frat
party getting hammered while talking about the immensity of the universe
and space travel through black holes. Well, I said 'getting hammered' but
we were already drunk and we'd need to be considering our topic of
conversation. Anyway, he calls over to me, "Yo, Dylan, join the game." I
can't remember his name so I just shake my head, saying, "Nah, I suck at
liar's poker." Two of the guys are sitting on Danny's bed and the other one
is sitting on Specks' desk chair, his feet on the side of Danny's bed
pushing the chair back and balancing himself on its back legs so far back
it looks like he's gonna topple over backward any second. Robby's leaning
against the bedside table with half his ass sort of sitting on the table as
he's pulling dollars bills from his pocket, saying, "C' mon, Dylan, win
some money off these poor excuses for softball pitchers." I shake my head
again and mumble, "No thanks," and with no place else to sit, I sit on the
floor with my back against the wall and my knees pulled up, my arms resting
on them.

Ten seconds later a yell from one of the guys startles me. I guess he won
some money and the other three guys, Rob included are shouting 'cheater'
for some reason. Apparently, this behavior doesn't qualify as a 'zoo' in
Rob's mind. He said if it was a zoo in here we'd get our haircuts in
Framingham. It's kinda zoo-like if you ask me with those loud mouth
ballplayer animals screaming plus this dork's rap music drowning out the
sound of Danny's barber clippers... clippers that used to be mine.

Danny's finishing the haircut for the guy in the barber chair and after
taking the cape off the guy they do a quick hug with the guy mumbling
something and Danny laughing out loud. Oh man, Danny has the purest,
easy-and-friendly laugh ever. Shit, I can't help but smile. Then, as that
guy is walking out the door Danny calls over to someone playing liar's
poker, "You're up, Owen." An overweight loudmouth with an obviously overly
grown-out buzz cut yells back, "Take the rap music guy, Dan, and make him
turn that shit off!" The guy with the EarPods says, "Fuck you, fatso," to
the overweight guy who ignores him and calls out, "Eight sevens." The guy
who asked me to play, whose name I can't remember, says, "Nine sevens," and
the liar's poker guys start bitching about one of the guys reusing the same
dollar bill over and over. Jesus!

EarPod sits in the barber chair and turns off the rap music. Relief!  Danny
takes the guy's phone and EarPods and puts the stuff on a table. Huh, he
stole that table from the dorm's recreation room.

EarPods' haircut, almost all Danny's haircuts, will take only about ten to
twelve minutes, so let's see... there's the guy in the chair and the three
baseball pitchers. Uh huh, so it's gonna be at least forty minutes before
it's Rob's and my turn. I like watching haircuts though, so I watch this
one but quickly lose interest because it's a routine regular haircut
without much hair getting cut off. I'm not complaining though because,
while this situation is far from ideal, it's better in my opinion than
going to some random barbershop in Framingham.

The desk chair is now available so I get up and sit there and then lazily
turn the pages of a Sports Illustrated magazine that the rap music guy was
looking at. There's a knock on the door and it immediately opens. Two guys
and a girl come bustling in giggling as the girl's saying too loudly, "So
this is Danny Monday's dorm barbershop, huh?" A guy with her wearing only
pajama bottoms, says, "Yep, this is the infamous campus barbershop," and
then he shouts, "Hey, Monday, how they hanging?" Danny puts the clippers
down and walks over, saying quietly, "Terrence, get the fuck out of here
unless you want a haircut, in which case shut up while you wait." The guy
goes, "Asshole," and Danny looks at the girl, asking, "Do you want a
haircut?" She goes, "Are you fucking serious?" Danny says, "Why, yes, I
am. No haircut? Then, get out!" He opens the door nodding his head at the
open door, saying, "It's been swell seeing all three of you... goodbye
now."

They still stand there looking spacey. I think they're high on some banned
substance. Either that or they could be retarded I suppose. The one guy who
doesn't say anything is a rare cute one with pretty green eyes. He and I
exchange 'looks' but he quickly averts his eyes and then looks back at me
doing a shy grin. Oh, sweet! The girl says, "It stinks of testosterone in
here," and she points a finger that has an ugly long fake fingernail
painted purple at Danny, adding, "And you're a jerk off." The cute guy
says, "C'mon, Shields, let's go. Leave them alone." The other guy, the
bigmouth, says, "Hey, Monday, ya got any weed?" Without responding to that,
Danny's closing the door little by little as the girl's giggling
again. After shutting the door completely, Danny squeezes my shoulder and
grins as he walks by me, saying, "Ya know what? How about if you lock the
door for me, Dylan." I nod at him and then reach over to push in the lock
button on the doorknob. Looking over I see the ballplayers are all on their
feet. Oh, now I understand why the three intruders left so easily. And I
thought it was Danny who scared them off.

As I suspected, it's close to a forty-minute wait before the last baseball
pitcher is walking out the door and now it's only us three best
friends... Danny, Rob, and me. Danny asks, "Do you wanna go next, Dylan?" I
look over at Robby who's now lying on Danny's rumpled bed. He says, "Go
ahead, babe," so I get up, feeling my dick buzzing as I walk over to sit in
the barber chair.

Danny's brushing the clipper blades, cleaning the hair clippings off, and
then he turns around to look at me, saying, "I'm happy you stuck by me. I
know it was you who talked Rob out of the North Andover barbershop idea."
Robby goes, "It was both of us Daniel, and only because of a blue-haired
woman barber." Danny chuckles, muttering, "What?" as he spreads the barber
cape over me. I say, "No, don't pay any attention to that. Rob's breaking
my balls again. We both decided there's no way we could get a haircut as
good as yours, so..."

Danny puts a clip on the ends of the cape keeping it tightly around my neck
and then he squeezes both my shoulders giving me shivers, then he gives the
back of my neck a squeeze and rubs his hand in my hair up the back of my
head, saying, "I'll be cutting off most of this hair off," and I shudder a
little as Danny snickers because he knows the effect he has on me.

It goes without saying Danny doesn't ask me what kind of haircut I want. I
didn't expect he would. Hell, mostly I'm thinking about the gooey feeling
I'm experiencing, the one I usually get when I'm getting a haircut,
especially from Danny. It also doesn't surprise or upset me that he again
uses the clippers without a guide which cuts the hair the shortest, almost
down to the scalp, but not quite. He can still outline around the ears
later and then it won't look as short when he's used the outlining razor
clipper doing the outlining. I've asked him not to use the clippers without
any guide, but he does what he wants and I'm used to that by now. And right
now I don't care anyway because my body is quivering with sexy fetish
vibrations and my dick feels good too, plus I'm just glad to be in this
barber chair and not one in North Andover or Framingham.

As Danny's using the clippers eliminating my sideburn on the right side of
my head, he flicks his wrist like a pro and the batch of hair slides down
the cape to my lap. Robby gets off Danny's bed and comes over to sit on the
desk chair. He says, "Ya know, Danny, that McBride is a riot. Did he tell
you about him and Dodes that night we stayed overnight for the West
Virginia game?" Danny goes, "Yeah, twice. Once last Tuesday night at Rolf's
Bar and again when I was cutting his hair. I think both those guys are
nuts." Rob goes, "Yeah, they are, but they have fun. Speaking of fun, are
you still going to Fort Lauderdale for Spring break?" Danny says, "Yeah,
but I cut my reservation back to only three nights. Fort Lauderdale is
getting old after three years, plus it's expensive."

Robby's talkative now. He's all wound-up after screwing around with his
teammates. He starts talking to Danny about the home opener, the game they
lost one to zip. Then Rob tells Danny about our plans to go someplace
during the break and that we want a couple of days in the sun although we
don't know where yet and blah, blah, blah. I know Danny would rather not
talk while giving haircuts and he says as little as possible without being
totally rude to Rob. Ranking my haircut experience so far today I'll give
it about a 2 on a scale of 1 to10. Usually, haircuts from Danny rank either
a 9 or 10 and sometimes 11. Haha. That's okay though, this is better than
the other options Rob was considering.

Almost finished my haircut, Danny flips his finger up my bangs and mutters,
"I left the front hair too long last time," and before I can disagree he
combs up the hairs in front and closed the scissors and crunch, crunch and
just like that the scissors cut off what I thought made the last version of
a crewcut unique and kinda cool. Danny rubs some hair gel in the short
hairs in front, now barely an eight-inch longer than the rest of my hair on
top. He wipes the hair gel off his fingers and then gets the hairdryer and
aggressively combs up the short hair in the front while blowing the gel
dry, saying, "You'll probably need to train the front hairs to stick up
again, Dylan. I cut them short enough though that it won't take much to get
them staying up." My boner throbs in my pants as I stupidly say, "Thanks."

Thanks? I liked the longer bangs! Still, he cut them off so confidently,
without a bit of hesitation that, as I said, it made my boner tighten up a
lot more.

Danny casually hands me the mirror, totally unconcerned I might not like
how my hair looks. As I gawk at myself, Danny asks Rob, "When are you guys
taking off for home?" Looking at my reflection I'm thinking, dammit, now
the front hairs are too short to comb over and this looks like a short burr
haircut, the kind I'd expect to get at the 'Friendly Barbershop'. Danny
gives forty to fifty haircuts a month and apparently didn't remember I
liked combing the front hair over making it a more distinct look for hair
this short.

Still looking at myself in the mirror I decide I still like the way it
looks. Danny does something I can't put my finger on that makes his
haircuts, not just mine, everyone's, look a little distinct. Robby says,
"Well, I wanted to get home early, but now that I think about it there was
no special reason for that, and then we slept late this morning. Why, do
you need a ride home?" Danny goes, "I've got a ride but not until like five
o'clock. Can I come with you guys?" Robby mumbles, "Of course." I glance at
Danny, and again think how much I wish I had his confidence and his cool
way of doing, well... doing everything.

He takes the mirror from me without asking me how I like my haircut, so I
say, "It looks good, Danny." He grins at me and pats my shoulder, mumbling,
'Thanks" He unhooks the clip in the back and takes off the cape. As I stand
up, he says to Rob, "I'll get my shit together real fast and ride home with
you guys. I appreciate it, thanks!" Robby goes, "We'll probably grab lunch
first."  Danny gently shakes my cut hair onto the floor. Gently so the hair
clippings don't float all over the room I suppose. He says, "Great, I'll
join you for lunch too if that's okay with you."  Robby gets up and comes
over shrugging, and saying, "Yeah, sure." I'm still standing in front of
the chair, my hand feeling how short my hair is. Rob's like, "Earth to
Dylan, time to move out of the way," and I go, "Oh," and step a few feet
away. Omigod, I feel so, um, gooey or something and I was just giving this
haircut only a 2 on the 1 to 10 scale. Yeah, but fuck, there at the end I
finally got sort of aroused because Danny did my haircut the way he wanted
to do and, oh man, I think he's so fucking hot!

Rob sits in the barber chair and, oh shit, I'm still standing here and when
Danny turns around he bumps into me. That makes him and Rob chuckle as
Robby goes, "What the fuck's with you, babe?" He said it in a nice sort of
funny way but I'm embarrassed and snap at him, "Nothing is with me! Okay? I
was just gonna ask Danny if I could help by sweeping up all this hair on
the floor." Danny goes, "Oh, thanks, Dylan. Yeah, there's the push broom
and dustpan near the closet. Dump the pile of hair you sweep up in the
trash, okay?"

No, I wasn't going to ask that at all! I had to say something though and I
couldn't think of anything else to say that quick. Fuck, now I guess I need
to sweep up all the fucking hair. I do that as Rob keeps up the chatter
with Danny continuing to give monosyllabic answers when he can. Danny
didn't ask Robby what haircut he wanted either. As a matter of fact, I
don't think I heard him ask anyone that question. When I was getting my
hair cut I heard a knock on the door and the doorknob rattle a couple of
times, which Danny totally ignored, and now the same thing just happened
again. I point at the door and Danny mutters, "Fuck 'em. They should have
come over this morning."

It's almost one o'clock by now so I was happy to hear Rob mention getting
lunch before driving home. His haircut is looking exactly like it did the
last time Danny cut it for him, and five times better than that shitty
haircut he got in Framingham. I keep sweeping around the barber's chair
after Danny shakes Rob's hair clippings on the floor.

Danny mumbles, "That's an awesome job ya did there, Dylan, thanks," and
then he goes to the lavatory to take a piss and wash up. Robby's looking at
himself in the hand-held mirror, mumbling, "Yeah, I'm glad you talked me
into holding off on our haircuts until we could come here, babe. And
because of that, there's no hard feeling between us and Danny either. Good
on you, baby!" I nod and then mumble, "Sorry I snapped at you a while ago,
Robby." He puts the mirror down and hugs me, swaying us side to side a
little, murmuring, "You'd need to do a lot more than snap at me before I'd
get mad at you," and he kisses me as Danny's walking in the room. Danny
gives me a funny look and asks, "Where are we having lunch?"

Robby won't go to lunch until Danny gets all the shit he's taking home with
him packed up. He remembers the last time when Danny said he was almost
ready to go even though he hadn't actually packed up anything yet. Also,
like the last time, Danny's bringing way too much shit home with him and it
takes the three of us carrying it to the pickup where we stow it in the
back under the tonneau cover.

We eat at Fuddruckers where our conversations do not include anything about
Rob and I wanting special treatment, meaning Friday haircuts and Danny
refusing to do that. We're all willing to let that incident fade away, both
sides of it. And Danny's not the kind of guy to throw in our faces that it
was Robby and me who buckled under and did it his way. I like that and in a
reverse situation I'd like to think I could take the high road too... but I
doubt I would.

During the ride home, it's now Danny who's talkative and Robby who's giving
short responses. I'm sitting in the back which was my choice because this
way I can stare at Danny and think back to this haircut as I rub my
crotch. I get to stare at Robby all the time so I concentrate on staring at
Danny and consequently, I have a damn nice boner all the way
home. Obviously, I've got a monstrous 'thing' for him that won't let loose
of me. A few times Danny turns around to say something to me and he'll wink
at me because he knows by now he's got me wrapped around his little
finger. I mean, I'll do pretty much whatever he wants. And I know I've
probably got this fucked-up look in my eyes too, the look that says 'let's
fuck'. And, yeah, the look is in my eyes even after I had great sex with
Robby last night. What the fuck is it with my crush on Danny? I don't get
it...

During the ride back home Danny tells us he's leaving for Florida on Monday
and he'll be back home Thursday afternoon. He'll text us then and maybe the
three of us can get together. Hayden isn't coming home for spring break and
why would he? The weather sucks here and he's in California where the
weather rarely sucks.

At Danny's house, I hop out to help him with all his stuff. He bumps
against me as I unhook a part of the tonneau cover. The side of his body is
touching my side as murmurs to me, "You look good enough to eat, baby. I'm
gonna miss you so much." I mutter sarcastically, "I'm so sure. You never
text me." Ignoring that, he goes, "We'll need to find time alone, just the
two of us either Thursday or Friday. Don't worry your cute head about it
'cause I'll think of something." With my balls feeling funny, I carry his
duffle bag and two satchels to the front door. He struggles with all the
other stuff and, dropping everything on the front stoop, he says, "It
sucks, but I better not kiss you. I wish I could though 'cause you're too
fucking cute for fucking words," and he rubs my back giving me shivers.

He gets me flustered and all I can think to say is, "I think I liked it a
little better when the hair in front was longer." He hesitates before
muttering, "What? Whaddaya...? Oh, you mean your haircut?" He flicks a
finger up the short stiff hairs he put gel on, saying, "No baby, I like
this look better. We'll do it like this from now on," and he hugs me and
opens the front door as I sort of hold onto his arm. Robby yells, "C'mon,
Dylan. Let's go." I say, "Bye, Danny." Partially going in the front door,
he yells, "Mom, where are you? For Christ sake, I've got a lot of stuff
here." Turning to me he goes, "Don't worry, I'll figure out how we can be
together for a couple of hours, at least a couple of hours. Leave it to
me." I nod my head again and he grins, "I won't let you down. I always take
care of you, don't I? I LOVE taking care of you!" and then he yells inside,
"Mom, where are you?" He says, "I'll see ya soon, Dylan," and he goes
inside. I jog back to the pickup and get in the passenger seat that's still
warm from Danny's ass.

It's like four minutes from Danny's to the Dickers' house and as Rob's
parking the pickup in the driveway, he goes, "Well, here we are. We'll
unpack our stuff and then... what should we do? We can visit your mom today
or chill out and do nothing. The next seven days are ours!" We're getting
out as I say, "Hmm, let's not see my mom today. She's at Tom's condo and
they'll insist we have dinner with them. Um, let me think what I wanna
do..."

We get our satchels out of the truck and while Robby's trying to get the
tonneau back on correctly 'cause I guess I didn't do it right, I wait for
him as I'm thinking again about Danny doing my haircut. Even though this
time the experience lost a lot of specialness due to the circumstances, it
was still enjoyable. Ya know, even getting a haircut from a barber can get
my fetish acting up a little, but multiply that by ten when Danny's doing
it. Danny and Robby talking while the haircut was happening detracted a lot
from the experience. It's best when it's silent and Danny's concentrating
on me but it was still pretty good today there at the end. So there's the
haircut and the fetish, plus me staring at Danny during the ride home, and
it's all got me hot and aroused. I feel jittery actually.

Robby stops fucking around with the tonneau, cursing under his breath as I
say, "I've decided what I'd like to do, Robert." He goes, "Okay, whatever
it is we'll do it." Taking a subtle deep breath, I go, "Well, can we have
sex in our bedroom. Haha, yeah, that's what I'd like to do... I'd like for
us to fuck in our bedroom." He goes, "Ah ha! Okay, you didn't want to this
morning though, did ya? Well, sweetheart, now I'm glad you didn't because a
bedroom fuck is a perfect homecoming."

Carrying our stuff through the backyard gate, he asks, "What's the name you
give to this kind of sex? It's extemporaneous-something, right?" "I go,
"No, not extemporaneous because we just planned to do it." Grinning at him,
I feel his love. It's impossible not to feel it. It's such a special
feeling and, just like that, I forget about Danny and say, "So, ya know, it
depends on how my man decides he wants to fuck me. Only then will I be able
to tell you what the name of it is. " He nods, "Okay, let me think what I
want to do with you," and he sort of snickers, adding, "I swear to God, I
hope you never change, Dylan. You'll keep both of us young well into our,
um..." and I go, "Thirties, maybe." He laughs again as we go in the back
door.

Jeez, I take a deep breath and all of a sudden I'm feeling nice and
relaxed. Wow, for the first time since going into Danny's dormitory
barbershop this morning I feel calm. Yeah, Danny punches all my buttons
without hardly trying, or not trying at all. It's like I lose my mind or my
common sense when I'm around him... I lose something! I get fixated on
Danny... there's a magnetism he has that I can't explain. Now though I feel
like everything is as it should be for me and, obviously, that's because
it's just Robby and me. I want us to go away for a couple of days, just the
two of us and I don't care where we go.

I feel Rob looking at me so I glance over at him and ask with a grin,
"What? Why are you staring at me?" Rob shrugs, "I don't know, babe, but
something's different. Is it your hair?" I mumble, "No, it's the same."
It's not of course, but I can hardly believe Rob doesn't see the difference
right away. I mean, after seeing me every day for the last six weeks with
the longer front hairs combed over, how could he not know? I'll let him
puzzle over it. No, I won't. I snicker and say, "I'm joking. Danny cut my
hair a little different. The front is now sticking up like the other hairs
on top." He goes, "Oh yeah, it was, um... how was it before?" I laugh and
he goes, "No, really. How was it before." I say, "Combed over in front. It
was long and I could comb it over." He frowns like he doesn't believe me,
and that's so typical of most guys who don't pay a lot of attention to
hair. I understand that, but at the same time, I'm different. Robby finally
nods his head and says, "I like this better." Oh, fuck!

When we step out of the so-called mudroom into the kitchen, there's Rob's
mom taking groceries from shopping bags. They're Whole Foods Market
shopping bags. That market, Whole Foods, is the only USDA 'Certified
Organic' grocer in the United States. It's also the most expensive which
makes sense since organic foods cost more to raise and farm. At least
that's what I read online one time. Whole Foods cost, overall, about 15%
more than say Stop & Shop while their meat products cost as much as 40%
more. I'm not fanatical about organic this or that, but then I don't know
very much about it.

Mrs. Dickers give us a big smile, saying, "Hi, boys! I was expecting you
this morning." Robby goes over for a quick hug and a peck on the cheek,
mumbling, "It's all Dylan's fault." Mrs. Dickers says, "I'm almost positive
that's not true," and she looks at me," Well, don't I get a hug." I make a
goofy 'face' and go, "Ha, oh.." and then get a hug and a kiss on my
cheek. Robby mutters, "Congratulation Mom, you've just filled up Dylan's
awkwardness quota for the rest of the month." She says, "Did I, Dylan?" I
go, "Nooo," as I blush. Dammit, I hate to blush!

She lightly touches my head saying, "Your hair looks different, dear." I
go, "Oh, really?" and Robby says, "We just got haircuts. We wanted to avoid
the criticism from you and dad, avoid you two breaking our stones about
it." She says, "I have no idea what you mean by that," and she goes back to
putting the groceries away.

Robby picks up a little carton of Brussels sprouts and sees the price
tag. He says incredulously, "This little basket of these little cabbages
cost $5.95? Rip off city! And do not under any circumstances include these
things in any meal you fix for Dylan and me... and I'm serious! Right,
Dylan?" I go, "Oh, um..." and Mrs. Dickers takes the package from Robby,
saying, "Don't worry, I know better than that. Your father and I enjoy
Brussels Sprouts roasted in the oven with extra virgin olive oil, garlic,
and sage." Robby goes, "Omigod, gross! C'mon babe, let's put our shit
away." Mrs. D. goes, "Rob! Language!" I pick up my satchel and some
dress-up clothes I brought home on hangers just in case. As Robby's getting
his stuff, he mumbles, "We'll be our room for a while, mom. We're going to
Google sunny vacation spots where we can get away for a few days." As we're
leaving the kitchen, she says, "Get away? You just got here!"

In the bedroom, Rob drops his stuff and then takes my things on a hanger
from me and drops them over the back of the desk chair. He gets me in his
arms and as I drop my satchel, he murmurs, "What was it you were saying you
wanted me to do first?" I don't know why Danny fascinates me so much when I
have Robby twenty-four/seven. Robby who is as sexy to me as my wildest
fantasy ever was, including a touch of dominance when the mood hits him. I
go, "Oh, yeah. I was thinking maybe you would ravish me sexually. Something
hard and fast so I know I've been fucked really good."

As he says, "Huh," he pulls down my sweat pants and then the front of my
jockey shorts, both pulled down only halfway down my thighs. Grabbing my
cock and one of my nuts in his fist, he says, "Oh, that's right! Yeah, I
remember now what you wanted." Sliding his other hand down from my waist he
grips my right butt cheek, then bends over and sucks my dick into his
mouth. I make a squeaky sound and sort of tap dance a little bit in place
because he did all this fast and it was totally unexpected. Lightly
squeezing my balls, he licks and sucks on my dick as I make more little
weird sounds and pull his short hair, messing up his preppy pompadour.

Robby is kinda rough with his cock sucking and there's some scraping of
teeth on the shaft of my cock, done on purpose which only gets me more
aroused. In less than ninety seconds I've got a tight boner that Robby
takes out of his mouth and, with his tongue way out, he licks up the shaft
and over the head and down the other side and then he licks around my
hairless groin up to my belly button and then down past my boner and under
my scrotum moving my nuts around with his tongue. Jesus! He does it all so
fast I'm going, "Ah, ahh, ahhh." His forehead bumping against my belly and
his hands either messing with my balls or squeezing my ass.

When he pulls his head away, my boner sliding out of his mouth is so hard
it sticks straight out and doesn't move at all. I gasp in a deep breath as
Robby straightens up and pulls my pants and underpants further down my legs
but just to my knees, as he's saying, "Get the Astroglide, babe. It's in
the bedside table." Staring at my boner, watching a drop of Rob's saliva
drip off the head I then shuffle over as best I can with my pants around my
knees to the bedside table. Rob's pulling his pants down below his nuts and
then he strokes his already firm cock. Half in a daze at this awesome but
unexpected development, unexpected considering three minutes ago we were
talking with his mom in the kitchen, I pick up the Astroglide tube. Robby
goes, "Whoa, that felt good. Heh heh, toss that over here, babe." He meant
stroking his dick felt good.

Turning around, I lob the tube of lube to Rob and then shuffle back to
stand in front of him. We're at the foot of the bed, our desk is five feet
to my right near the window, and the bedroom door to my left. Rob's
squeezing out some Astroglide as I look at the door trying to remember if
Rob pushed in the locking button on the doorknob. Then I'm startled when
Rob's slippery fist grabs my boner and pulls up on it. I push out my hips
and he pulls up a little harder and I go up on my toes, then reach out to
grab his shoulders. Robby grins, murmuring, "Here we go." Using my hard
dick as a leash he turns me around with me doing fast short steps on my
toes.

Letting go of my leash, um, my cock, Robby grins and quietly, but
cheerfully says, "Would you mind leaning over the end of the bed, babe?" I
bend over, my hands flat on the mattress and then push my ass out an up. I
look back expecting to be mounted but instead Rob gives my ass a hard whack
and "SMACK!" rings out in the bedroom as my left butt cheek quivers and
then stings like a bumble bee sting. I mutter, "Ow."  Robby smacks my ass
again, same butt cheek, "SMACK!" and I mutter, What the fuck...?" Robby
grabs his cock and grins again, saying, "I'm gonna really fuck that ass of
yours hard. Yeah, sweetheart, I'm hornier than a lesbian in a hardware
store." What...? I go, "What's that mean?" That snaps me out of my daze and
I do a goofy laugh because... well, he said that lesbian thing that I don't
'get', and he's used that word 'sweetheart'... twice! We've been making fun
of that particular term of endearment.

Still leaning over the bed, my hands on the mattress for support, I turn my
head looking back and seeing Robby stroking his cock that shines because
it's slick with Astroglide.  He glances at me, gives me a devilish grin,
and then mutters, "As you can see, I'm quite horny myself... heh heh." Oh
man, Rob's aroused.

I'm pretty much out of my daze now as I mumble, "Be sure and tell me what
it was that got you this aroused, Rob. We'll want to repeat whatever it
was, and I mean often." Putting his left hand on my back, he bends over and
pushes his Astroglide-slippery middle finger up my ass, murmuring, "It's
just you being you, Dylan. Just be yourself 'cause you turn me on like a
motherfucker." I go, "Oh, jeez, be myself, huh? That's not easy to do." He
snickers, mumbling, "Try harder." His finger rubs, rubs, rubs over my
prostate as I push my ass out further and moan, "Aaaah, oooh, fuuuuck."

His finger then lifts up on my asshole until I'm on my toes again and then
his finger slips out and he grips my hips, his right hand slipping a little
because it's coated with Astroglide. Rob doesn't need to guide his boned-up
cock because it sticking straight out and too tight to move so the fat head
pokes my asshole and then with a little pressure it begins spreading-open
the lips of my anus and I know right away this won't be Rob's typically
slow and considerate entry. No problem though, there are times when my
favorite 'top' is simply too fucking horny to be considerate and as his
submissive 'bottom' I need to understand that and tolerate a fast entry
without complaining

All humans and animals have a warning device hardwired into whatever size
brain they have. It's a signal that indicates you should probably stop
doing whatever it is you're doing when that signal, called pain, tells you
to stop. When, for example, a too-large object is trying to insinuate
itself into a too-small opening of your body your brain initiates the
warning system, which some of us are too dimwitted to pay attention to and,
consequently, the pain gets worse. I'm very familiar with this scenario.

The thing is, sometimes ya just gotta endure the pain because experience
has taught you that great things will follow if you persevere. It's
different than touching a hot iron with your finger. In that situation, the
immediately warning signal is paid attention to because experience has
taught you that when leaving your finger on the hot iron nothing good
follows and all that's left to do is scream 'Motherfucker, that burns!' and
lickety-split, next time you've learned to immediately pull the finger away
and, if you're not a complete moron, not to touch hot irons in the first
place. On the other hand, a large object being inserted into a too-small
anus registers as AN EXCEPTION TO THE RULE in the part of my brain that
remembers experiences. The part of my brain that sends out the pain is a
bit of a primadonna though and does its job tenaciously keeping the pain
soaring until I start to doubt myself that maybe it's gonna keep up this
mindless pain.

Anyway, right now logic would indicate Rob's engorged penis is much too
large to fit into my tight anus opening but he's persevering which is why
my stubborn brain has initiated the warning system and sent in the
pain-train. This warning system likes its job a little too much if you ask
me, plus it gets pissed when it's ignored. From Rob's point of view there's
little happening from his warning system and what slight discomfort he's
experiencing barely registers and frankly, he doesn't give a flying fuck
about it, and I don't blame him. He's had experience too ya see and he
knows that if he perseveres he'll be successful and his fat boned-up cock
will fit inside my rectum because it's been in there about three hundred
times.

With that in mind, Rob exerts more pressure opening my ass up even wider
and my warning system, that's already pissed at me for ignoring it, calls
in reinforcements assuming this dumb ass, meaning me, needs a little extra
message. The serious pain from my supposedly friendly warning system
definitely has my attention in the form of red pain balloons popping in my
head and then increasing until the popping equals the energy of lightning
and thunder trapped in a steel box. I hold my breath trying not to whimper
too much while continuing to ignore my brain's warning system.

Rob, not especially thinking about my brain's warning system, continues
pushing his fat hard penis head until my asshole spreads open very
reluctantly, the enhanced super-warning pain clanging in my head like the
Bells Of Saint Mary and London's Big Ben combined suggesting I need to move
the fuck away from this intrusive large object in my ass. The pain has me
almost biting through my bottom lip which initiates a minor warning signal
all its own of additional pain which I do pay attention to and stop biting
my lip. So, yeah, the warning system is helpful at times.

The thing is, I know something about rectums and I know the asshole part is
elastic, reluctantly elastic but it will expand quite a bit allowing large
objects to get out, so logic tells me that if I continue ignoring the
warning signals in the form what has become sadistic pain my asshole will
reluctantly allow a large object to come in. It's physics for Christ sake!
So yeah, Robby's large cock's head eventually very tightly slides in past
my sphincter muscles and nestles inside my body with the lips of my anus
gripping around the neck tightly, determined that no more of this 'thing'
gets in. Robby grunts and then goes, "Oooh, mmmm... that feels good..." I
finally let out a gasping held-breath, and mutter, "Aaaah, fucccck, that
hurt..." Robby rubs my back and says, "Sorry, babe, but I thought I might
as well get it done quickly. I'll wait a few seconds, okay?" Motherfucker!
A few seconds?

>From the second his cock head touched my asshole until right now probably
only four seconds went by in real time, in Rob's real-world time. As I
gauged that same amount of time, however, it seemed closer to an hour and a
half. Time is relative ya know, but I'm feeling better by the second now
'cause the pain reached the top of the mountain, it got as bad as bad can
get a fraction of a second ago, and now I know it's got only one way to go,
and that's down. My body's warning system is still on alert and it's still
pissed that I ignored it, so it's being spiteful with continued jabs of
pain any chance it gets but it's in a losing battle from here on out and it
knows it... yes, it knows it from experience.

So, as I said, Robby rubs my back, the head of his throbbing boner just
inside my asshole, the pain already retreating, and my anus stretched
exactly to the degree, the absolute minimum degree it needed to be
stretched, so the warning system's job is pretty much done. In fact, it's
starting to feel silly because its opposite number, pleasure, has now
basically taken over and is making snide remarks to the weakening pain
sensations.

A renewed contest between pain and pleasure starts up when Rob begins
pushing his fat hard boner's head up my rectum, but the pain is at a huge
disadvantage now because Rob's too-fat boner is followed by the shaft which
is sliding over the super pleasure area in my ass known as the prostate
gland. That marvelous gland, the end result of a billion years of
mutations, doesn't know a damn thing about pain. It's all about pleasure
and the remaining pain from nerve endings around my asshole have been
surrendering by the thousands and replaced with itchy pleasure sensations.

When Rob's boner is as far up my ass as it can go, he begins pulling it
back and now the pain message is totally retreating as all the nerve
endings in my rectum begin transitioning to pleasure which gains even more
ground when Robby starts steadily pushing and pulling his boner back and
forth in my ass. He's moaning, "Mmmm, oooh man, this feels good." And I'm
happy to say, "Jesus, yeah, go for it Rob," and the sound of males fucking
fills my ears, "Slap, slap, slap," sounds along with the cheers of victory
from the pleasure brigade... heh heh, nice!

Hard thrusting now with pleasure swarming all over my body, "Slapslapslap,"
sounds are music to my ears but it ain't gonna last long. Less than two
minutes of Rob's hard thrusting has me almost delirious with sexual
pleasure that's soaring from my rectum as my boner throbs sticking straight
out from my body, my balls churning out cum and the piss slit at the head
of my cock gaping open and quivering like guppies going for that tiny fish
food that's lazily drifting past them in their fish tank. My hands slip
forward on the mattress with each hard thrust of Rob's fat cock until I
finally slide completely forward, my chest lying on the bed.

Rob's hands move to my back now, his hips flying back and forth and then I
squeal, Eeeeeiii," with cum rushing up from my hard nuts to sizzle out my
six inches of hard cock pooling an inch from the gaping piss slit. There
was nowhere for it to go with me flat on the bed like I am. Another shot of
creamy cum joins the first gooey mess against my belly as my body shudders
deliciously. Rob lies on me humping against my buttocks firing his load of
semen into my bowels.

Another shudder from me and then a quiet sigh 'cause I feel ridiculously
good. We haven't been in the bedroom for six minutes and we both got our
rocks off spectacularly. Awesome! Robby chuckles as he lifts off my back, a
hand on the bed on either side of me helping him up. He hesitates for a
second and then lifts up some more pulling his cock from my ass. Another
chuckle as he says, "Holy fuck, that was a little bit out of control. You
okay, Dylan?" I roll over to lie on my back in my own cum and point at the
cum on my belly, saying, "Yeah, nice fuck Rob. Messy though. Messy for me
and the bedspread." He goes, "We had this same problem the last time,
didn't we?" I nod as I'm sitting up. "Yep, and we're gonna need to get this
fucking bedspread in the wash again, and I mean before your mom sees it.

He holds out his hand and I take it. Rob pulls me to my feet, and says,
"You need a shower, babe." I go, "Not really. A good cleaning-up will
suffice for now don'cha think?" Robby's wiping his soft fat dick with
tissues, mumbling, "Yeah, I guess." When he's pulling up his pants, I go,
"Well?" and he's like, "Oh, I'm supposed to clean you up. Is that it?" I
nod and he goes, "Yeah, that's fair." He opens the door enough to look out
and then pads to the bathroom as I slide over to push the door
closed... just in case.

Rob's back with a wet washcloth and a hand towel. I stand here with my arms
out as Rob wipes me down in front and back and then hands me the towel. As
I dry myself he pulls the bedspread off the bed and stuffs it in the
hamper, asking, "How 'bout a beer now?" I go, "Right now I'm savoring the
fact I'm a 'bottom' who just got fucked fast, but very well." He gives me a
blank look, and I go, "Um, no, I don't feel like a beer." Rob takes a deep
breath and says, "Well, will you have a smoke with me in the pool house
while I have a beer?"

That's what we do with me feeling better than really good. As we light
Marlboros in the pool house, I go, "Hey, let me have a few swigs of that
beer." Rob goes, "I knew it," and he gives me the long-neck bottle of Bud
and goes back in the house to get another one for himself. This has been a
damn good start to spring break if you ask me.

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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