Date: Sat, 27 Jul 2019 20:55:37 +0000 (UTC)
From: Bill <mgtbill@aol.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE Chapter 55

DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE

Chapter 55

by. Donny. Mumford


Rob and I are driving back to college as we've done twenty times before but
this time it feels different. I don't know, it feels kind of eerie and
ominous somehow. I'm looking out the window as we go down Route 93 thinking
that, and then Rob sort of reads my mind. He wistfully says, "We just
finished the last college spring 'break' of our lives, babe." Huh, that's
what's different, there are no more spring 'breaks'... ever. Not only
college but we've had a spring break through twelve years of schooling and
then four years of college and now there are no more spring breaks in our
lives. That's probably subconsciously why I'm feeling strange about
it. Looking over at Rob, I say, "You're right, but that's okay. We'll have
some kind of breaks while working, right?"

Rob goes, "Yeah, if you wanna consider a two-week vacation a 'break', and
there are ten holidays we'll get off as well." I'm like, "Two weeks? That's
all the vacation time Dickers & Son allows their hard-working employees?
Two weeks a year?" Robby goes, "Yes, that's it for the first five years. If
you want more vacation ya gotta work in Europe." I go, "Oh yeah? How much
time off do they get?" Rob says, "By law, European Union countries get a
minimum of four weeks a year paid vacation."

That sounds more reasonable. I'm like, "Yeah, that seems fair, but you're
saying there's a law over there about vacations? Jeez, that seems like an
odd law. How about a small business that only has a couple of employees and
they can't afford to lose four weeks of work?" Rob shrugs, "Jeez, I don't
know babe. Tough shit for them, I guess." I mumble, "Hmm, and I suppose
you're going to tell me we don't get summers off either." He laughs, and
says, "Yeah, the horror! Haha, nope, no more summers off after
college... um, unless you're a school teacher." I mumble, "Ah ha, yeah,
that's probably why Danny chose that career path." Rob's like, "I doubt
he's thought it through as far as next summer." I'm not commenting on that
snarky comment. If you ask me I think Danny planned out what he'll be doing
after college pretty fucking well.

It's a little after five o'clock when we're back in the apartment. That's
too late to do anything except carrying our stuff in, take a piss, and then
unpack our stuff and put it away. After that, we're sharing a Snapple as
Rob says, "Let's walk around the campus a little, just walk around for the
hell of it." I thought he was going to say he wanted to stop in at the
ballpark. I go, "Yeah, sure."

We drive on campus to do that although the weather is not great for a
walk. It's like forty-some-degrees and windy making it seem colder. We're
big boys though so we dressed for it.  Strolling around campus we're
smoking cigarettes in no-smoking areas, and not caring 'cause we're not the
only ones doing it. The dormitory students are hurrying to their dining
halls so there's quite a bit of activity. Rob yells out to some guys and
then the shy kid who always sits next to me at Wednesday's lecture hall
scoots by touching my arm, saying, "Hi, Dylan." I nod at him but can't
remember his name. I mean his first name... his last name is Foster, but I
didn't want to call him that. I think he has a crush on me and actually, he
does just barely qualify as 'cute' in the goofy-cute category of my
mind. Skinny guy with a SuperCut haircut and eyeglasses like Connor's. I'd
bang him if I ever get the chance or, haha, it'd be more fun if he fucked
me. I can tell he couldn't pull that off though. Dennis! That's his first
name... Dennis Foster.

Rob asks, "What about Dennis Foster?" I'm like, "Oh, did I say that out
loud? He just walked by." Rob goes, "Yeah, I know... what about him?" I
shrug, "I'd bang him," and Robby laughs, muttering, "No shit. Who wouldn't
you 'bang'?" I make a face at him, saying, "You're my man, Rob, so I ain't
banging anyone." He goes, "Good," Mostly we're talking about what we need
to do the next couple of days. No class tomorrow so all we really need to
do is read over our notes from last Tuesday's class and we'll be good to go
for this Tuesday's class.

Academically we're in great shape anyway, no stress there. As we walk,
Rob's looking at his schedule for games and says, "I've got a game
tomorrow, Monday, and then games on Thursday and Saturday." I nod but don't
have anything to say about that... what could I say? He mutters, "Hmm, the
remainder of the baseball season there are at least three games a week."
I'm not a fan of baseball season because I don't see a lot of Robby.

Putting the schedule in his back pocket, he says, "If I ever start hitting
for power again, I'd feel a lot better about all these games coming up." I
go, "You'll do fine, Robby. It's the same every year... you get off to a
slow start and then...boom!" He hasn't hit for shit the first six games so
he'll almost surely be at the voluntary workout tomorrow
morning. Ironically it's Carl, his mentee, who's in competition for Rob's
shortstop position on the team. Carl's been hitting the shit out of the
ball at practice. Tomorrow it's a four-hour bus ride for the baseball team
to and from the college they're playing somewhere in western
Massachusetts. Bottom line, tomorrow is pretty much all about the baseball
team for Rob.

He asks, "What are you gonna do tomorrow, babe? Any plans?" Stepping on my
cigarette butt, I'm like, "No plans, and ya know what, I'm actually looking
forward to doing... nothing." He mumbles, "That's what I'd do if I didn't
have a game tomorrow."

We go in the Quad, buy soft drinks and then sit with some guys we
know. Everyone's exchanging tales of spring break except two of the guys
who stayed home during the break. That isn't as rare as you might think,
not for seniors. Vacation spots can be expensive and then spring break gets
to be 'old hat' by the time senior year rolls around. For the most part,
spring breaks are seven days of questionable behavior while drinking way
too much and then dealing with brutal hangovers every morning. Ya know,
after doing that three years in a row it loses some of its allure for
some. It did for Rob and me, but not for Chubby and many others. Different
strokes for different folks, and all that...

It's almost seven o'clock when Rob drives us back to the apartment where we
order a pizza for dinner. We're tired and the bloody Marys at my mom's
condo have worn off leaving us feeling 'blah'. We're not hungover as much
as we're both feeling beat up. We eat the pizza and then spend twenty
minutes going over our notes for Tuesday's class and then watch TV for a
while. Then it's early to bed for us. No sex tonight and no need to discuss
it either because we never feel pressured to have, or not have sex. Rob and
I are perfectly in sync in that regard.

Monday morning though, well by then we're feeling differently and so,
without a lot of foreplay or conversation, we have a rough and tumble fuck
that leaves us both sweating. After catching our breath we shower together
and do 'it' again in the shower, this time goofing around and giggling like
teenagers who are doing 'it' for the first time. Lots of goofy screwing
around until we get seriously into the actual sex act itself. Omigod, what
a great climax I have and then watch it swirl around the drain before
disappearing forever. That was fun-sex just for the hell of it! The earlier
one was more about need.

Anyway, sex has us both in a good mood. We make breakfast together and then
I drive Rob to the ballpark. He won't be back until like eight o'clock
tonight so we bump fists with me muttering, "Kick ass, Robby," and Rob
goes, "I'm gonna try, babe. See you tonight and, oh.. I'll get a ride to
the apartment from Mouse." I've met Mouse once and he's okay. He has an
apartment in one of the buildings in our complex and he often gives Rob a
ride from the ballpark saving me the trouble. Not that it'd be much trouble
anyway, but if I don't need to do it, ya know...

I wasn't gonna do anything today but while driving back to the apartment I
change my mind. I'm curious how Pony survived his spring break in Fort
Lauderdale. Even though I should know it by now, I can't remember his class
schedule so I text him and Pony texts back saying he just got up. I find
out his last class finishes at three o'clock today and we make plans that
I'll pick him up at the normal spot near dormitory row at
three-thirty. Pony texts, 'I got a tale to tell you!'

Yeah, well, I can't wait to hear about that. So, now it's ten o'clock in
the morning and I'm back at the apartment making myself another mug of
coffee planning to do what I told Robby I was gonna do, and that would
be... nothing. Well, except read my book which I do for a couple of hours
and then smoke a cigarette on the balcony thinking about lunch.

After defrosting some roasted chicken from the freezer in the
microwave. It's a large breast left over from a whole chicken Robby and I
had for dinner like two weeks ago and I slice it thinly and make a chicken
sandwich with lettuce and mayonnaise. After that, not wanting to, but I do
it anyway, I go food shopping. The middle of a weekday is a good time to do
the food shopping so I'm pushing one of Stop & Shop's small shopping carts
around putting enough food in it to last us a week. As usual, I need to
include vegetarian stuff for Carl. Meatless frozen pasta products are good
for that, plus the old standby, mac and cheese. Neither Carl nor Robby will
be having dinner at the apartment tonight or Saturday night as they'll be
at away-games eating on Merrimack's dime with their teammates, so I factor
that in.

In the bakery section, I'm looking for a cake treat when someone touches my
arm, saying, "Excuse me." Turning my head I see a treat of a different
kind... a cute-looking young guy. He has a small shopping cart with quite a
few things in it so he's obviously been pushing that cart around as long as
I have so... how in the fuck did I miss noticing him? I don't see many
legitimately cute guys anymore, which partially could be because I'm not
looking for them as conscientiously as I used to. When I do look I'm
usually wondering where the fuck all the cute guys got to?

Anyway, this cute guy asks, "Are you a Merrimack student by any chance? I,
um, noticed you're wearing a hoodie with their logo, so...I, ah...." He has
a baseball cap with what I think is a college logo, but one I don't
recognize. Even with the hat, I can tell he has a short haircut. A guy's
hair is something I always notice right off, and his short hair is another
point in his favor, that plus him being cute. He has blond hair and, yeah,
short blond hair is sexy looking if you ask me, and I don't just mean
because I have blond hair cut short... it's because, um, oh, never mind.

He's a couple of inches shorter than me and has the prerequisite slim body
that attracts my attention but, yeah, it's his cute face that makes me grin
a little as I say, "Yeah, I go to Merrimack, Do you?" Ya know, who could be
friendlier or more helpful than me, right? The kid holds his hand out,
saying, "I'm Richard Mc Guire and, yes, I'll be going to Merrimack next
year so, um, how do you like it? You're a freshman, right?" I shake his
hand, saying, "Hi! I'm Dylan, nice to meet you. Um, but no, I'm not a
freshman. So, you're in high school then?" Another fucking high school
student! That kid at Rite Aid, and now this kid. That's where all the cute
boys are... in fucking high school! No wonder I'm not spotting them as
frequently as I have in the past.

Richard shakes his head, "No, I graduated last year from Milton High. I,
um, haha, it's embarrassing to admit but I just got kicked out of Bay State
College in Boston. I was commuting from my home in Milton." I'm like, "Oh
yeah? What'd ya do to get kicked out of Bay State?" He shrugs, "Oh, a
technicality, sort of. Um, I let this homeless girl sort of live with me
and my roommate in our dorm for a week... almost a week. Me and Troy, my
roommate, took pity on her. It worked out too because we were, ya know, um,
fucking her, I guess you could say." Well, fuck... he's straight! Of
course, he is...

I go, "Oh, yeah? Well, sorry to say but Merrimack is probably picky about
minor rule infractions like that too, but good luck." This guy apparently
has a few loose screws. I try turning my small shopping cart around but he
holds my arm, saying. "We shouldn't have let her shower in the dorm
lavatory, that's where we went wrong." Yeah, it's one of the ways he went
wrong. He goes, "Anyway, my 'rents managed to get me in Merrimack for
summer classes and then I'll supposedly be enrolling as a sophomore in the
fall with my younger brother. He'll be starting as a freshman." I nod my
head, mumbling, "Oh? Well, as I said, good luck with that."

But he's not done and he touches my arm again, saying, "My brother and I
already have our apartment although he hasn't even graduated high school
yet. Heh heh, I guess you could say the 'rents want us out of the house if
ya know what I mean." I'm beginning to see why they might. This kid is, um,
a little 'off'. I go, "Uh huh, can I help you with something, or...?" He
goes, "Yeah, if ya got a second, um, I'd like to pick the brain of a
hot-looking dude like yourself. Primarily about the 'snatch' situation on
campus. Also, can you fill me in on the date and location of the next frat
party? My brother and I will, ya know, heh heh, crash it. I'd like to get a
head start on the party scene here if you get my drift."

I can't help but stare a little at his face. What a cute motherfucker, but
not a baby-face exactly. He's cutely cool-looking but unfortunately, cute
faces don't always come with a functioning brain attached. Sometimes
batteries aren't included. I go, "Yeah? Well, I don't live on campus and I
never joined a fraternity, so..."

He nods and shrugs, like, 'Oh, that's too bad, but whaddya gonna do? We all
can't be winners... meaning I'm not one. Trying another tactic, he goes,
"That's too bad. So, where's your apartment? Maybe we can..." Hmm, I need
to shock this cute fucker, so I interrupt him to say, "Yeah, me and my
long-time boyfriend are living in one of those apartments across from the
college." I'm hoping the 'boyfriend' reference will get this loose cannon
moving on. When you think about it, what a waste that most guys are
straight, including most of the cute ones. He goes, "Oh, so you're gay,
huh? Dude, no problem! I can roll that way too." Oh, shit! My high-alert
warning system is going BEEP BEEP BEEP announcing... 'this guy is trouble'.

When I offer no response to his sort of offer, he goes, "So far college has
sucked the big one but I'm hopeful Merrimack changes my mind about that,
although I'm not what ya might call optimistic." I say, "Being in a
committed relationship myself, I'm the wrong person to ask about campus
hook-up possibilities and I don't know about any frat parties. And, dude,
I'm graduating in like six weeks so that shit isn't on my radar screen
anymore. Sorry, but a good looking savvy dude like you won't have a problem
with either sex, um, getting some." How's that for a polite way to blow him
off?

He nods, "Thanks, man! Jesus, you're graduating, huh? Fuck, I thought you
were a freshman. Shit, and here I was thinking you'd be perfect as my
wingman next year. The two of us could have hooked-up and ravished both the
boys and girls on campus and this town too." I go, "As thrilling a
possibility as that sounds I, alas, am graduating, as you are now aware,
and then there's my boyfriend who may have thrown a monkey wrench into me
being your wingman ravishing, um, everyone." Unsaid is, Rob might also have
rearranged this pretty boy's face and then tied his dick in a knot.

The guy grins and, oh fuck, he's another one with a killer cute sexy grin
and he has the kind of teeth that I find boyishly cute too. To me, teeth
with little spaces between them are so boyishly-cute, ya know? Oh well,
this isn't what I need to get myself involved with so I want to tell him
but to hit the road, damn I've already forgotten his name. He remembers
mine, saying, "Don't you mess around at all, Dylan? C'mon, everybody messes
around a little bit, right? I could tell Mickey, he's my brother, tell him
to take a walk around the block if I can interest you in joining me
exploring one another's bodies, and you're looking sexy super-hot I might
add. Hope I'm not being too presumptuous asking this but... do you 'top' or
'bottom'?"

Omigod! I snort out a laugh at the balls on this kid. Casually pulling my
arm from his grasp, I mumble, "Ya really need to get over this shyness
problem you seem to have. I mean, if you're expecting to score regularly on
campus." He laughs out loud and then says, "No, I've never been shy. The
worst that can happen is I hear the word 'no'. My feelings don't get hurt
though... I keep trying." Yeah, I can see that.

It's not in my makeup to insult a creature as cute as this one, so I say,
"Ya know, if I met you last year we'd probably have had a helluva go of
it. I 'top' or 'bottom', but I far prefer to 'bottom'. Too bad I'm
graduating, huh?" He's like, "Holy shit, I'll say! Let's do it one time
anyway. I'd love to nail a cute ass like yours and..." with a mischievous
grin, he adds, "I could fuck you for an hour. Do you suck dick?" I go,
"Yeah, I do, but sadly, not yours. I gotta go, but you've brightened my
day." See how nice I am?

He's not easily discouraged as he smiles brightly, saying, "Let me give you
my phone number. Ya might change your mind." I mutter, "No, I don't want to
do that, um, I forget your name..." and he says, "I'm Richard," and I
complete my sentence, "I don't wanna do that, Richard, 'cause you're too
tempting. I'm trying to wean myself of irresistible guys like
yourself. Clear my head, ya know, and be faithful to my boyfriend?" He
goes, "Well, I gotta tell you, I've never been rejected in such a nice
manner before. It was great meeting you and I'll hate myself all afternoon
for letting you get away." I go, "Did ya get the homeless girl's phone
number?" He laughs out loud again and, as I'm pushing my cart away, he
says, "No, the bitch didn't have a cell phone."

Jesus! Omigod, haha! If I were a year younger, ya know? He's wicked cute
but crazily unbalanced, although eager. It'd be like taking advantage of
the handicapped though. Oh man, this is something I should brag to Robby
about. The way I said 'no' to someone as cute as, um, what was his name? I
can't brag about it though because it might beg the question: how many cute
nut-cases over the years haven't I say 'no' to? Fuck that. Trying to get my
mind back on more important matters, I adjust my firm dick and then circle
back to do what I started to do... check out the cakes.

Hmm, the cakes in the display case all look beautiful and delicious, but
looks can deceive you. Yeah, the problem with grocery store cakes is they
mostly suck! The icing is for shit and they cost way too much. So why am I
looking at these cakes? Well, because they look good. Using self-control, I
mutter, "Fuck it," and push the cart to a self check out register. And,
yeah, I can't help myself, I'm glancing around looking for that kid. Could
I resist him, crazy or not, if he asked twice? Probably not because I think
I'm actually hoping he asks again. I'd like to be fucked for an hour now
that I've had time to think about it.

He doesn't reappear though, probably looking for another homeless person. I
check out and pay with my debit card saving the registry slip 'cause Robby
owes me for half the cost of these groceries. Back at the apartment, I'm
putting the groceries away thinking how I was gonna do 'nothing' today but
I've already done a number of things. It's impossible to do nothing. The
things I did though were different from the things I'd have done last
year. Yeah, in previous years with my free time I'd be more like that cute
crazy kid casually checking out possibilities for fun side sex. I've never
been as forward about it as he was... no way. I'll bet he has a lot of
success, especially considering he's doubled his chances for success
swinging both ways.

Yes, 'free-time' like I have today was more or less all about
boy-watching-time for me in the past. I was always ready for a side sex
partner, even crazy ones if they were as cute as that guy. Yeah, adventure,
excitement, and sexual variety... and with no strings attached, and more
often than not they were one-time encounters. And, yes, as I've admitted
many times I'm oversexed, but I don't blame myself for that, nor do I find
it a bad thing necessarily. I'm still oversexed but I've got it more under
control and I'm less frivolous about it now.

So, apparently, I'm taking life a little more seriously of late although
I'm not exactly sure when that attitude adjustment happened. I've mostly
enjoyed myself though and, hell, I still like sex just as much as I ever
did but my drive to search out willing new sex partners has obviously
weakened. I mean, obviously, it's weakened! Christ, it sure has if I said
'no' to that cutie... but seriously, duh, he demonstrated all the
possibilities of being way more trouble than I need at this point in my
life. I've been there and done that, and I mean for five solid years. And,
anyway, Rob's and my sex life has developed to the degree I'm rarely horny
and therefore I lack the motivation of days gone by, the days of old when
my eyes invited interested guys to the party.

Even though I'm rationalizing the shit out of me saying 'no' to that kid,
it is actually true that in my old age the convenience factor matters a
great deal to me. Danny and Pony are convenient, but that's not to diminish
how much they mean to me. They're both excellent sex buddies. Danny's a
primo 'top' and I also get to 'top' a really good 'bottom' named Pony, who
loves to bottom... a true win/win situation for all of us, um, all three of
us. Three actually isn't much of an 'all' though, is it?

To further rationalize my pussy behavior with that kid, I can think of a
few recent side-sex experiences I've had along the way that proves I
haven't retired from side sex activities completely. A lot fewer of them
than in the past, obviously, and most of the exceptions are convenient ones
like Sonny for example, and then the unexpected ones like Mr. Trimbole but
it's just different for me now. I no longer feel I need to 'catch up'
because of never having sex until I was seventeen when I, fortunately, fell
under the spell of that other Carl in high school. The 'catching up' used
to be true but I've caught up by now, ya might say. After saying all that,
my dick is tingling as I sit in the idling pickup in Stop & Shop's parking
lot watching to see if the loony-tunes kid comes out. Was it Richard, was
that his name? I soon shake my head, disgusted with myself, and drive away.

At the apartment, I put the groceries away and then have a smoke on the
balcony trying to get that kid out of my head. Yeah, he took his hat off
there for a second and his hair was cut almost exactly like Danny cut my
hair last time. I can see our two blond crewcut heads in close proximity as
he fucked my ass for an hour! Ya just know a confident cute guy like that
has a cock he's proud to show around. Haha, oh man!

Later, I'm sitting in the idling pickup again, this time at dormitory row
happily anticipating topping my buddy, Pony. Yeah, okay... I'm not in a
sweaty lather about it but sex is fun and ya don't need to be in a sweaty
lather of anticipation to have fun with it. Sex is one of the joys about
being a human being. I mean as opposed to the other animals on the planet
who mindlessly fuck when their programming, their genes I suppose, compel
them to. Um, ya know, when it's their time of the year to procreate another
muskrat or elephant or whatever. Yes, the animal kingdom copulates mostly
from imperatives passed on by their genes. Sure, there is some masturbating
for fun going on by animals that have hands, and there's some homosexual
behavior as well, but mostly it's gene-motivated-reproduction initiative
and not sex for the fun of it. There aren't any hippopotamuses on a lark
looking for a cute hippo to party with. That sexy fun is only for us, the
lucky human animals. Of course, animals aren't aware they're gonna die
either, so they've got one less stress in their lives than us.

And here comes Pony now. He yanks open the passenger door and while getting
in, exclaims, "Hi, Dylan!" We do an awkward hug over the gear shift between
the bucket seats as I mutter, "Hi, Pony. How'd your Lauderdale trip go?"
He's like, "Well, after texting with you last week I 'came out' as
gay... so whaddya think about that?" My eyes open wide as I go, "You're
kidding!" and as I drive out of the parking lot, he says, "No, I'm not
kidding. Why would I kid about that?" Such a literal boy!

We're going back to the apartment 'cause Donald, Pony's roommate is
studying in his room. I'm like, "Who'd you 'come out' to?" Pony says,
"First, I came 'out' to Max." I'm like, "Max Kellerman? Your fuck buddy?"
He goes, "Nooo! I mean yes, um, I came out to him, yes, but he's not my
fuck buddy. He's not gay. I told him I was though." I'm like, "And?" Pony
goes, "Oh, he just shrugged and said, 'so what?' and then he laughed and
said, "Do ya wanna blow me?" I look at him, expecting more. He says, "We
shared a room in Fort Lauderdale. Max is awesome!"

Crossing Route 114 and then driving onto the apartment complex's main road,
I'm like, "Christ, that's a good start at coming 'out', Daryl! Did ya tell
anyone else?" He nods, "Yep, I didn't stop there. I was on a roll and told
like five guys at this huge concert on the beach. Oh man, at that beach
party they had this killer DJ too. Holy shit, it was rocking!" I'm like,
"Yeah? You knew the guys on the beach, right? The ones you came 'out' to."
He shakes his head, "Fuck, no! I never saw 'em before in my life. I was
drunk and when I told them I was gay and they just looked at me and this
one guy, um, his Adam's apple was as big as a real apple, he goes, "Dude,
you're fucking drunk!"

I yell, "Pony, that's not 'coming out'!" He shrugs, "It's a start. Max
pulled me away from those guys and we were laughing our nuts off. What a
fucking blast!"  Jesus, I gotta chuckle at that. As I'm parking the pickup
outside the apartment building, I'm still chuckling at Pony's
enthusiasm. It's so much better hearing him excited about something rather
than his sort of hang-dog attitude that I see from him too often.

Turning in the seat to look at him, I ask, "Well, did you?" He's like, "Did
I what?" I go, "Blow Max when he asked?" His face gets red as he goes, "How
the fuck did you guess that? Yeah, I did. Three times but he wouldn't fuck
me." Keeping things on the positive side, I mutter, "Oh, well, that's too
bad but then, you like doing oral sex... that must have been pretty good."
He turns up the excitement level, saying, "Oh wait! Oh, man, Dylan, wait'
ll you hear this. This is was I meant in my text... the tale I gotta tell
you. You but no one else."

We're still sitting in the truck. I go, "Oh, yeah. I wanna hear this." He
goes, "I got fucked so hard the day before we left Fort Lauderdale... oh
God, it was both awesome and painful. This dude, it turned out he's
thirty-four. Oh man, he whacked me around and then up and down." I'm
frowning, "Who was he? Thirty-four-year-old man, you said?" Pony nods,
"Yeah, he works for the motel as a, I don't know, the handyman I guess. He
pulled my boxer shorts off... ripped the fuckers, but I didn't care."

We get out of the truck and I go, "Start from the beginning, Pony. Where
were you when he rips your shorts?" Pony goes, "Let me tell you... this
dude, his name was Barnard, he came right out and asked me, 'Are you queer,
four eyes? Yeah, he was one mean confident motherfucker." Walking inside
the building, I'm like, "Pony, are you making this shit up?" He looks hurt
I would even ask that, saying, "No, Dylan! I was getting ice from the
motel's ice machine. It was on the first floor and our room was on the
second. Two double beds so I didn't get to sleep with Max." I'm like,
"Forget that. What about the handyman?"

He goes, "Um, well, um, Barnard comes up behind me at the ice machine. I
thought he was gonna fix something but instead, he pats my ass and then
holds onto it asking me ... 'Hey, four-eyes, are you queer?' Just like
that. I was frozen in front of the fucking ice machine. Me and the
machine... both frozen. And then, with his hand still on my ass, he leaned
against me and asks me again, 'Are you queer, four-eyes?'" I'm frustrated,
saying, "Yes, I got that part, Pony. What'd you say?" He's like, "Dylan. I
got a boner 'cause this guy was sexy! Not cute or good looking, but sexy."
Jesus, it's like pulling teeth getting this story out of him.

Outside my apartment, I'm getting my key out, muttering, "If you're
bullshitting me, stop talking now!" Shaking his head, he's like, "I'm not
bullshitting! Fuck it though, if you don't want to hear it..." Inside, I
go, "I didn't say I didn't wanna hear it. What happened next?"  I take his
arm and sort of lead him to the kitchen where I take his horn-rimmed
glasses off, muttering, "How can you see out of these things? They're
totally smudged." He shrugs as I spray Windex on his glasses and then grab
a paper towel. He asks, "Do you wanna hear this?" I nod, "Go ahead, yeah, I
wanna hear it."

He says, "Well, this dude asks me if I'm queer and I just gulped with my
dick getting hard 'cause he wouldn't take his hand off my ass." I'm like,
"What the fuck did you say when he asked you that?" He shrugs, "What could
I say? I said what anyone would say. I went, 'How'd you know?'" Jesus!

I'm like, "You shouldn't have... um, what happened after that?" Pony rubs
his junk and says, "Well, he squeezed my ass with me standing there holding
the ice bucket. I finally turned around and he grabbed my arm and I was
looking right into his eyes. Oh wait, first I gulped and asked him how he
knew, then he squeezed my ass and then I turned around." I'm like, "Uh
huh," and he goes, "I'm looking him right in his eyes 'cause believe it or
not, I wasn't scared. He nodded his big head like he had his answer about
am I gay or not, and he pulled me away from the ice machine and sort of
lifted me by my am so I was sort of walking on my fucking tiptoes as he
guides me into a utility room next to the ice machine. That's what the sign
said on the door 'Utility Room'." I'm nodding, "Yeah, whatever. What
happened then? What'd you say this guy looked like? He had a big head?" I'm
cleaning his glasses, getting invested in his story. Something in Pony's
manner is making me believe him.

Pony goes, "I already told you he wasn't hot looking or good looking but he
was tall and built like a fucking football player... big, ya know, but not
fat. He wore glasses too." I go, "Uh-huh," and I hold his glasses out. Pony
takes his clean glasses from my fingers and puts them on. Huh, ya know
what? Even though I'm used to seeing Pony wearing these glasses, I still
don't think eyeglasses and flattop haircuts belong on the same head! That's
just my opinion.

He goes, "And he was wearing like a uniform. The kind maintenance guys or a
guy from the gas company wear with a name over the pocket. That's how I
knew his name was Barnard. Anyway, he never lets go of my arm, and it was
hurting 'cause he was squeezing it. Inside this small room, he flicks on a
light and kicks the door closed behind him. Oh, and he also had a beard and
long hair. It was black but streaked with gray." I'm like, "Are you sure he
wasn't older?" Pony makes a 'face' and mutters, "That's what he said,
thirty-four when I asked him. First, he asked me if I wanted to get fucked
a new asshole and I was like 'Oh yeah, can you do that?'. See... I wasn't
scared." I go, "I can't fucking imagine why you weren't. The guy was
unattractive, old, mean, and probably disturbed in the head. You should
have been scared." He rubs his nose with the fingers of one hand and
squeezes his junk with the other while muttering, "He was okay. I'm not
telling it right. Plus, ya know, I hadn't been fucked for like ten days. Ya
know, the last time we did it was my last time. Blowing Max helped, but not
that much...."

I'm opening a bottle of beer, holding it up at Pony but he shakes his head
and says, "No, thanks." I'm like, "Well, go on," and he says, "So after I
agreed with Barnard that he could fuck me a new asshole, that's when he
yanked my shorts down and ripped then. It's a tear at the waistband that I
was thinking maybe could be repaired. He was a strong motherfucker, ya
know?"

Swallowing some beer I nod my head, encouraging him to go on and he's like,
"His hair was like shoulder length. Did I tell you that?' I nod, and he
goes, "Yeah, and his long hair fell against the side of my neck when he
rubbed the side of his whiskery face against mine. That's when he turned me
around, pulled down my shorts and ripped my boxers when he yanked them
down. It was like he got pissed or something. It was a little rip at first
and I was thinking mom could sew them, ya know, but then he just tore my
underpants in half... just ripped them in half. He used both hands I guess
and just ripped them down the back in one rip. I heard the ripping sound
and they're totally ruined now. I threw them out." I nod, "Uh huh, never
mind your ripped undies. What'd he do next?" He goes, "Omigod, I had a
boner, ya know, and when he sort of rubbed the side of his face against
mine he saw it, he saw my boner so he knew he was doing the right things, I
guess. I just stood there all jittery, but aroused like mad! And, as I told
you, I was strangely unafraid but I guess I was nervous too, ya know?" I
mutter, "Anticipating what was coming next, huh?" He mumbles, "Yeah,
wouldn't you be anticipating?"

Christ, I'm getting a little aroused myself. Pony walks around and sits at
the bar with his right hand out of sight below the bar probably groping
himself and I don't blame him. He's on the living room side of the bar and
I'm behind the bar on the kitchen side as he goes, "So, Dylan, this guy had
his left arm around the front of my neck pulling my head back against him,
his scratchy whisker-beard against the side of my face and all. Um, his
other hand was fondling my cock and balls. My dick was pretty hard but my
nuts were just hanging there. I got so fucking turned-on it was sick! His
fingers were rough-feeling, like hard or rough sandpaper or maybe something
was stuck on them. They were dirty too, now that I think about it. Anyway,
his thumb and forefinger stroked my cock with pre-cum dripping out. My cock
was wood but I was limp against Barnard, sort of in a world of my own. He
kissed my cheek and licked there and then licked my ear and put his wet
lips on my ear telling me I was the cutest hottest queer in Fort
Lauderdale." I'm like, "He kept saying 'queer'?" Pony goes, "Yeah, he never
asked my name."

I go, "Huh? What did you say to him."? Pony shrugs, "I forget. Oh, no,
wait... I asked him how he knew. Ya know, how'd he know I was gay and he
said he could just tell and then he told me again how cute and hot I am. Ya
know, the side his face is snuggling against mine and our eyeglasses are
bumping together with mine siding down my nose... and ya know what he did?"
I shake my head, and Pony goes, "He reached his hand, um, the hand from the
arm around my neck. He used his index finger to push my glasses up my
nose. His hand smelled like, um, like he'd just emptied the trash or picked
up something nasty. Anyway, by now I had the hardest boner I've ever had in
my life and he did five fast strokes on it with those big hard fingers of
his while he kept nuzzling against the side of my face and I felt his hard
cock against my ass and Omigod! He had my body totally pulled back against
his to the degree I was halfway up on my toes again and his boner felt fat
as it poked down my ass crack, but it was still in his pants."

Subtly, I press on my dick 'cause the head somehow got stuck in the leg
opening of my underpants. Without being obvious about it I'm able to move
it away from there a little as Pony goes, "I shuddered, Dylan. My whole
fucking body just shuddered like I got shot by one of those things the cops
shoot you with and then the guy falls down on the ground shaking
uncontrollably... I shuddered like that. When I shuddered he whispered,
'Don't you dare cum yet, ya queer four-eyed faggot.' I mumble, "A redundant
bastard, huh?" and Pony goes, "Huh?"

He asks, "You mean his name-calling? Hell, I like when guys are tough like
this guy and especially when they call me humiliating names. I almost shot
my load right then too." I mutter, "Jeez, did he smell bad? I mean, you
said his hand smelled like garbage." Pony shakes his head, "No, I didn't. I
said his hand smelled like trash, not garbage. Um, he was draped all over
me but, other than his hand, he smelled... hmm, well actually I guess it
was sort of an overall BO smell, but kinda manly and sexy too, ya know?
Yeah, when he moved his arms he had BO bad, but as I said it smelled sexy
and manly and strong and macho.  Whew, now that you mention it though... it
wasn't all that pleasant. I think it's because there wasn't much air in
that little room. No breeze at all, but I didn't mind at the time."

I'm nodding my head, "Uh huh," and Pony says, "Ya know what, Dylan, I will
have a beer now if you don't mind." Jesus Christ! I grab a beer from the
refrigerator, twist off the cap and hand it to him as he grins, saying,
"I'm planning ahead, Dylan. If I drink some of this beer I'll avoid your
beer breath and I know you're going to want to kiss me, so..." Can I
believe this shit? He's got a BO trash man all over him and that's no
problem. Beer-breath though... big problem.

I don't want to get him off track though, so I nod, "Yeah, whatever. What'd
the trash man do next?" He thinks and says, "Well, did I mention he had
stiff hair on his arms like a fucking bear. Stiff hair like I couldn't
believe on his arms." I make a 'face' and Pony goes, "Um, anyway, somehow
we got face to face again and then I noticed his beard was longer than I
first thought. I mean when he got me turned around and we were face to face
his beard then became mostly what I noticed because, like you, he was into
kissing me the same way you do it." I go, "Hold it right there, Pony! I
seriously fucking doubt the experience was anything like us doing it." He
shrugs, "Well, he was kissing my mouth and then he sounded mean telling me
I needed to participate. He told me, "kiss me back ya four-eyed queer or
I'll spank the shit out of your shinny ass'."

I go, "How do you remember what he said?" Pony shrugs, "I don't exactly,
but it was something like that although, um, he wasn't as polite as I'm
making him sound." I mutter, "He wears glasses too you said, but yet he
calls you 'four-eyes'?" Pony's exasperated, "Yeah, he did." I nod and
prompt him by saying, "He told you to kiss back," and Pony goes, "Oh,
yeah. Well, I was like, 'Huh?' and then, Dylan, that strong fucker slapped
my bare ass five times fast. Holy fuck! It hurt so much it burned in my
brain! Let me tell you something, Dylan, that guy knows how to spank
hard. Five smacks and my eyes were watering." Nodding, I'm like, "Un huh,
go on," and Pony's like, "Well, I struggled and yelped... not that it did
any good. He was like ten times too strong for me. His big hard hand felt
like a fucking board or something against my bare ass. It was stinging and
burning like a motherfucker!"

I mutter, "Exaggerate much, Pony? Guess you'll want me to get a board next
time." He snickers and goes, "But seriously, this was some serious shit. My
ass was on fire! Obviously, Barnard did not appreciate my struggling and he
got an arm around my back and lifted me right off the fucking floor and,
whack, whack, whack! he spanked me some more and I got the sniffles a
little because it really hurt. I was fucking crying, okay? You would have
been crying too!"

I go, "I'm not criticizing you, Pony. What'd he do next?" He shrugs, "Fuck,
I stopped struggling and he stopped spanking me and called me a pussy cunt
for crying. I wanted to leave by then but I was off the floor a couple of
inches. He was still holding me up with one arm and, I don't know, maybe
from reflexes or something, my arms went around his neck so I wouldn't
fall. Dumb, I know! I was only two fucking inches off the floor but my mind
was playing tricks on me and, oh yeah, he stuck a finger up my smacked ass
too and said something about me asking for it or something like that. No,
he said... I wanted it bad."

I mutter, "Jesus," and Pony goes, "So, after getting spanked I still had
part of my boner. I didn't need or want to be spanked that hard again, um,
so when he kissed me I did what I was told and I was kissing him back like
mad. I did it with my eyes closed though 'cause like I said, he wasn't good
looking and up that close... you might be right, he could have been
forty-or-fifty-something years old."

Eww, gross! I don't want to slow Pony down though, so I don't comment. He
swallows a tiny bit of beer, makes a face at the taste, and says, "So that
went on for a while and the kissing was disgusting so my dick lost its
boner status. Totally flaccid penis flopping in the breeze. Well, actually
it wasn't flopping anywhere it was pressed against something kinda sharp,
his belt buckle I think." I gulp some beer as Pony mutters, "His mouth
tasted like a couple of days old tuna fish. My ass hurt from the spanking
which is a different kind of hurt that getting fucked up the ass and I was
kinda losing interest until he stopped kissing and lifted me up further to
sit me on a workbench with my shorts at my ankles and my ripped in half
boxers hanging off my foot."

I ask, "How long did all this take?" He shrugs, "Three or four
minutes. This motherfucker lifting me onto that workbench like I weighed
ten pounds." I'm frowning, "He sat you on a workbench? What the fuck for?"
Pony goes, "I guess 'cause I was a convenient height for him to bend over
and suck my cock and balls into his mouth 'cause that's what he did and I
mean he sucked them in with this huge tongue under my nuts and, swish,
everything was in his tuna fishy mouth! And, holy shit my hands were
grabbing his long hair and pulling it like mad. His mouth felt like three
sets of big lips and three tongues and I was leaning forward with fistfuls
of his greasy hair, gasping and moaning... fuck, I hardly ever get my dick
sucked, and then this guy with what felt like two or three mouths on
him... three tuna fish mouths! Oh man, I didn't last a minute. When he was
sucking my junk I thought, and I'm not trying to be funny, I thought he
totally swallowed my cock and balls. I watched his Adam's apple bob and I
thought... there goes my dick, my balls are probably goners too'. My entire
package was in his big mouth and I never felt his teeth. Amazing! I shot
off this wicked long stream of cum and squirmed and squealed like a fucking
cunt. I sounded, even to myself, like a girl screaming when I came. I was
like, 'Eeeeee!"

All I can do is mutter, "God..." and he goes, "Yeah, and I can tell you all
this, Dylan, because you're my best friend and you won't tell anyone, but I
acted like a girl from then on with Barnard. I was a total pussy and did
whatever he said. He swallowed my cum and then pulled my head down and his
tongue was in my mouth again with me kissing back and trying to lick his
disgusting fishy tongue. I was still on the bench and he had me bent so far
forward I thought I was gonna fall off and land on my fucking head!"

He takes another sip of beer, and says, "Then he pulled me off the bench
and forces me to my knees. I say forces me, but I went right down with the
slightest touch on my head. Oh, and get this! He said he liked my
haircut... the flattop. Yeah, he said he had a flattop in the Marines." I
go, "No, shit?" Pony nods, "Yeah, anyway when I'm on my knees with my dick
starting to feel heavy again, Barnard told me to open his fly and get his
cock out. I did that immediately and then, without being told, I started
right in licking and sucking that big penis of his." I'm like, "How big?"
and he snorts out a chuckle, muttering, "It was a lot bigger than yours if
that's what you're wondering." I mutter, "I wasn't wondering that. I simply
asked how big it was?" He says, "Um, let's just say maybe twice as big as
yours," and I go, "Now I know you're lying!" He looks me in the eyes,
saying, "I swear to God, Dylan, it was like a foot long and it got hard
fast too!"

I actually am believing this because Pony, no offense to him intended, but
he doesn't have the imagination to make a story like this up... he just
doesn't. I hesitantly ask, "I'm not sure I want to know, but I gotta
ask... what did it smell like down there with his fly open?" Pony shrugs,
"Um, have you ever gone into a public lavatory innocently right after
someone unloaded a horrendous dump? Coming from his open fly was like
escaping gases trapped in there like an awful
after-a-bad-shit-smell... like after some fat pig of a guy grunted out a
huge dump." I go, "Oh, Christ. How'd you stand it?" He goes, "He had me so
submissive and dominated I'd have done almost anything. This guy was not to
be messed with but I still don't remember being scared. It was a sexy hot
experience, Dylan! One like you've never experienced I'll bet." Thank God!

I swallow some beer and he goes, "So, he pulled his cock away from my mouth
and he had one of his big hands behind my head pulling my face forward so
it was sliding down his foot-long cock. If you think my glasses were
smudged a while ago, you should have seen then after being pressed against
his sweaty crotch. His huge hand behind my head sort of moving my freakin'
face against his prickly stiff pubic hairs and his cock. By the way, his
balls hung halfway down his hairy thighs." I go, "Get outta here with that
bull crap!"

He goes, "Seriously, and every time my nose flattened against the top, the
root of his long thick cock, there'd be pubic hairs in my mouth. He'd move
my face against his groin with him moaning... he sounded like a cow that
needs to be milked. Yeah, I was on my mother's uncle's friend's farm when I
was a kid and these cows they had would, when they needed milking would..."
I go, "Stop, please! I know what a cow's 'moo' sounds like."

He nods, "Yeah, but it's much more than a normal 'moo', that's all I'm
saying. Anyway, Barnard was mooing like that which was a little odd but he
finally stopped smearing my face on his crotch and told me to lick and suck
on his cock again. As I told you, I did what he said so I got my fist
around his fairly hard cock and slobbered on that thing, licking and
sucking until my face was covered with spit. It eventually, his boner
eventually felt like I had a fat steel pipe in my fist... and then that
long hard pipe went down my throat... fast!"

I must be making a 'face' because Pony goes, "I'm not lying to you!"
Nodding my head and squeezing my dick, I go, "I almost believe you." He
goes, "Well, he left most of his cock in my throat with me gagging, my face
red and tears rolling down my red face... again. It went like that for
maybe twenty seconds that, let me tell you, felt like twenty minutes before
he pulled his cock all the way out and shot his load on my nose... just
like that... boom! A big creamy load of cum flew out with him telling me to
'open your fucking mouth, pussy'. No, wait, I remember this... actually, he
said 'get your mouth open, you four-eyed fag pussy'. I guess I'd closed my
mouth when the shot of cum hit my nose and drooled down like snot." I go,
"Oh, don't use that word. I hate that word!"

Pony goes, "Which one, snot?" I make an annoyed 'face' at him and he goes,
"Anyhow, I opened my mouth as wide as it's ever been opened in my life and
he shot the last of his climax in my mouth." I go, "Jesus, what an
experience!" He nods and says, "Ya gotta believe me, it wasn't like I was
scared or anything. I liked being a pussy for him, I admit it." Shaking my
head, I go, "Christ, that sounds wilder than my wildest past experiences,
um, almost."

Taking a deep breath, and then, even though I don't want to... I can't help
snickering. To cover that up, I go, "Let's get a smoke," and we go out on
the balcony without our coats. It's not that cold today. I finish off my
bottle of beer and light two cigarettes passing one to him, asking," Did
you see him again?" Pony stretches, his arms stretched out and then he
takes a fake drag off the cigarette, immediately blowing out the smoke, and
says, "Well, yeah, I did but I didn't finish what happened. Barnard pulled
me to my feet, put his trash-smelling hands on either side of my face and
kissed me, then told me to take all my clothes off. I was definitely his
pussy-boy by now and we both knew it... him and me, so it was kinda a
relaxed situation knowing where we stood. I did what I was told. I only had
the ripped shorts and ripped underpants around my ankles, plus my t-shirt,
and flip flops on my feet so getting naked took about four seconds." I go,
"What'd he do then?" Shrugging, Pony says, "He licked and kissed me all
over. Oh, first he said to spread my legs and hold out my arms and then he
was feeling all over me with both hands and licking and kissing me all
over... I just stood there wishing I had a nose thingie. You know, when you
go swimming there's a thing that squeezes your nostrils closed. I was
thinking I probably should get one of those in case I run into Barnard
again." I go, "Uh huh."

Gulping more beer, I mutter, "As gross as Barnard sounds, I'm getting a
boner." We both chuckled at that and then Pony says, "I had one, Dylan! I
mean when I was standing there I felt totally dominated and it was the best
feeling ever and my boner was as hard as hard can get sticking straight
out. First off I felt safe. It just seemed he wouldn't hurt me. It was
like, um, he was sort of worshiping my body, ya know?"

Squeezing my junk again, I go, "He sounds seriously sick, but thank God he
was harmless. You were playing with fire though, ya know that, right?" He
goes, "Ha, get this. He did the worshiping of my body for maybe two minutes
but he never touched my boner. Then he told me to get dressed and meet him
back here at three o'clock. He said he had to do his 'rounds' now, but he
had an afternoon coffee break at three o'clock." The way Pony said that
makes me laugh out loud, and then I say, "Sorry for laughing, but
it's... he does all that bizarre, crazy sexual behavior that could put him
in jail if you reported him, and then he's like, 'Oh, I gotta make my
rounds but I have a coffee break at three... as though nothing out of the
ordinary here, nothing to see here, folks."

Pony starts coughing because he accidentally inhaled some smoke and then he
goes, "Yeah, he made it seem normal. I went to my room, gave Max the little
bucket of ice and took a shower. Then Max and I went to the beach. I acted
like, um, nothing happened. I was a little embarrassed about acting like a
pussy so I told Max nothing. Also, I was half scared and half super aroused
at the thought of being fucked by that ginormous cock, ya know?" I go,
"I'll say." He goes, "Yeah, that ten minutes in that little utility room
was easily the weirdest thing that ever happened to me but, as I said, all
I did was bring the ice back to the room, Max used the ice to cool his warm
soda. I put some ice in a plastic cup and poured soda over it and took it
with me in the bathroom to take my shower, and later we went to the beach."
Taking a deep breath after my laugh, I go, "You are really something,
Daryl!"

He shrugs, mumbling, "The weirdest thing to me, Dylan, was me not being
scared." And naturally, I wanna know what happened during Barnard's coffee
break, so I'm like, "Well, did you meet him at three o'clock?" He goes,
"Nah, I lost track of the time and didn't get there until like five minutes
of four. Like I said that was the next to last day of our trip so I had to
think... did I want to do this or not." Nodding my head, I go, "So?" and he
says, "I decided I did so I went looking for him and found him on the
second level fixing the door on room 207." Gulping more beer, I go, "Room
207, huh?" as if that had anything to do with anything. Pony nods, "Yep,
I'll never forget that number. Barnard didn't yell at me for missing our
three o'clock rendezvous. He told me to go into room 207, get naked and
wait for him. The bed was unmade from the last guest. The housemaid-lady
hadn't got around to changing the sheets and whatnot."

He makes a face after another tiny sip of beer and then says, "So I get
naked and wait for maybe twenty minutes on the bed sort of playing with my
dick a little and all the time I was worried the maid would come in to
change the bedding but Barnard finally came in. He pointed at his fly so,
naked as a newborn, I jumped off the bed and dropped to my knees and
unzipped his fly to pull out that major-league penis of his. I did not want
another spanking from Barnard... he knows how to train a pussy like me,
huh?" I go, "Don't put yourself down, but why you went searching for him I
can't imagine." He goes, "It was my chance to experience something safe and
wild, ya know?" I shrug, "I guess I can relate to that,
yeah... unfortunately." He says, "This time he left me alone as I licked
and sucked and slurped a boner on him. He patted my head gently and told me
to lie on the bed on my stomach, then he got me spread-eagled, which I half
expected but my face is on the sheets and let me tell ya... that wasn't
pleasant. The sheets smelled like a bad fart. Seriously, some fat guy was
farting on this bed something awful!"

I make a face and he says, "Anyway, to make it even worse, Barnard held my
face against the fart-smelling sheet while he spanked me again, and I mean
hard. Christ, I did everything he wanted and I get spanked anyway. Spanked
hard like you can't seem to do it, and then he dragged me down across those
yucky used slept-in sheets until my ass was at the end of the mattress." I
go, "Oh no, don't tell me he didn't use lube?" Pony goes, "He had an
extra-strength condom that was coated with lots of lube, and that condom
didn't even come halfway down his boner, not that that matters as far as
lubing my ass goes. My ass got plenty of lube, and thank God for that."

He puts the almost full bottle of beer on the table and spreads his arms,
saying, "Dylan, I never want to be fucked with a cock that long again. It's
that simple. It was slightly fatter than yours and I was thinking I'm in
for the time of my life... the fuck I'll remember all my life, but Barnard
was too physical, too rough and it was not pleasant. Nope! He satisfied my
curiosity on that score. Now I know what too-rough is." I'm like, "Well,
tell me about it, for Christ's sakes." He goes, "Oh, okay but I don't
remember too much. I almost passed out and afterward, he was hugging me and
cooing to me while asking how long I was staying." I nod, "Uh huh, but what
was it like?"

He flicks his barely smoked cigarette about thirty feet across the alley
and it disappears in the woods as he goes, "Don't tell anybody but I was
crying again. I mean before he was done and here's the oddest thing of
all... crying 'cause it hurt but I had a ginormous climax too! It shocked
me how hard and long my steam of cum kept shooting up and out my boner
under me. My stomach was wet with cum from my belly button to up between my
tits." I go, "So, it really hurt, huh?" He goes, "I wasn't bawling, I was
moaning like a motherfucker and it was almost like crying. Fuck, I don't
remember exactly. I think it lasted less than three minutes. The feeling
was like... Omigod, will that hard thing ever stop going up inside me?
Twelve fat inches and Barnard was apoplectic when he shot off his load in
that condom." I go, "Apoplectic? Good word, Pony!" He snorts out a laugh
and says, "I wasn't sure I used it correctly... hahaha. Anyhow, he showed
it to me, the condom when he pulled it off. Hung it near my head and I got
lube on my nose! Oh man, a big ball of his cum at the end of that
industrial-strength condom... a softball size load of cum."

I ask, "Less than three minutes, huh? How about when it first went in?"
Pony goes, "I screamed for my mommy." We both laugh and then he goes, "No,
it was piercing pain but I'll give him credit for waiting maybe fifteen
seconds after getting the big hard head inside me before he pushed the next
eleven inches up my ass. It went on forever it seemed... inch after inch
after inch." I'm nodding, "And?" He goes, "And it was the same thing I was
thinking when it was down my throat. Not the whole thing in my throat, but
it felt like the head was puncturing my fucking lungs, ya know? It felt
like it might puncture my lungs going up my ass too!" I'm like, "So, he
starting fucking, right?" Pony nods, "I'll say, but steady long strokes in
and out with his hand at the back of my head pushing my face on the
bedsheets so he didn't hear my screaming. He never smacks his crotch
against my ass 'cause his cock was too long I guess. Quite an experience
and in retrospect I'm glad I got to see what it's like, but once is
enough... once is plenty. It was truly amazing now that I'm thinking back
on it. What the fuck, maybe I would do that again now that I know what to
expect."

We go inside after I finish my smoke. I get another beer but Pony goes,
"Don't open that. Here, take mine. I only wanted a couple of swallows. Um,
ya got any bourbon?" I take his beer and chug some, muttering, "That
fucking story of yours got me all cranked up." He goes, "Yeah, I'm sorry I
don't have any additional details of the incredible fucking my ass endured
but I was sort of out of it. Later, Max asked me what was wrong because I
was walking funny. Yeah, Barnard hurt my rectum but it didn't take long
though before it was feeling okay. Thank God, huh?" and he laughs.

I go, "Christ, my ass hurts from just listening to that." He goes, "That
fuck will probably never be topped in my lifetime of experiences and it
didn't even last three minutes, but please keep it to yourself because I
feel really bad about how I acted with that older guy." I say, "I'm not
telling anyone. Who would believe me anyway?" He goes, "I sort of had to
tell you but I don't want anyone else to know. Actually, I hope you and I
won't bring it up again either. Unless you have any advice for me, do you?"

Taking another gulp of beer, I mutter, "Yeah... don't do that again, that's
my advice. I'm serious when I say if you ever get in a situation where you
are scared, and you said you never felt in danger with this weirdo, but if
you ever do scream for help as loud as you can. Don't worry about being
embarrassed... scream for help. That will discourage most predators who
will likely leave you and find someone who's too embarrassed to scream."

He goes, "Okay, I will although the chances of running into another Barnard
are probably slim to none." I nod, "Yeah, well, I've been in a couple of
helpless situations, one with an older guy who got me high on drugs, and
then a couple of other times with real dominate types that weren't cool
about it. I should have and probably could have avoided them, but
didn't. That character, Barnard, is a weird one but, as you said,
ultimately only wanted to give his foot-long cock a workout. You didn't
know that at first though." He goes, "Yeah, but as I said earlier, I had
this feeling right from the beginning he wasn't going to hurt me. It was
the look in his eyes I think, he seemed kind." I'm like, "And what about
him spanking your ass raw, huh? Was that kind?" He goes, "I think he saw
through my tears that I liked it and then, of course, my roaringly hard
boner sort of gave me away too." We both snort out a chuckle about that,
and he goes, "That's so sick of me, but what can I tell you... I liked it."

Shaking my head, I mutter, "Christ, that struck me funny but, seriously,
it's a hairy situation whenever you're messing around with strangers much
stronger than you. When with total strangers don't forget to scream for
help if you need to. You were helpless... so remember that and maybe pass
up the next huge handyman who asks if you're a four-eyed queer," Pony
mutters, "Good advice."

I've been looking for bourbon in the cabinet over the sink where we keep
the booze if we even have any. There are boxes of cereal in the way but, oh
yeah, here we go. I pull out a bottle of Old Grand Dad bourbon. It's one of
the bottles either John Beverly or Chubby left here after some drinking
occasion, and there's still like a couple of inches of bourbon in the
bottle. I pour Pony some of it in a juice glass and then we sit at the bar
exchanging other tales of spring breaks. Pony gets laughing at my
description of Rob's and my three days in Fort Myers and how it was
just... 'okay'.

After a while, he pours himself another shot of Bourbon and I get another
beer. It freaks me out the way Pony sips his bourbon. Christ, I couldn't
sip whiskey of any kind... drinking it straight down tastes so bad and
burns I can't imagine experiencing that sip after sip after sip. When he
pours his third drink he holds the juice glass to my lips, saying, "You
drink some, Dylan, and I'll have a drink of your beer." For some reason,
that sounds like an okay idea and we do that once and then the second time
he holds his juice glass to me, and I don't know exactly how this happened,
but our faces are together and we're kissing for maybe two minutes straight
with my arm across his shoulders. Casual kissing with some sliding together
with our tongues as our noses rub together. Very nice...

When our faces pull away, Pony says, "That was about ten thousand times
more pleasant than kissing Barnard." And again, it's the way he says stuff
so seriously that strikes me funny and makes me laugh out loud. He goes,
"What?" Ignoring that, I change the subject and ask, "Are you going to
stick with that flattop haircut the rest of your life? It could attract
another Barnard, ya know." As he touches his hair, I'm like, "You said you
were tired of that look," and my fingers go back through his brown hair
that looks okay. I like my crewcut better though so I'm glad Danny decided
to change mine.

Pony shrugs, "Yeah, I was gonna get something different but before I could
say anything Danny just started doing the same flattop so it was too
late. This summer I'll change my haircut, ya know when I go to a barber who
asks me what I want. Dylan, I don't like to think of this summer because I
won't see you," and we kiss again. Not passionate kisses. They're, um, just
kisses because we're gay friends and we feel like kissing each
other. Pony's a sweet, still fairly innocent gay friend. That's the way I
see him from my perspective. I don't know exactly how Pony characterizes
me. And ya know, I'm starting to think maybe eyeglasses and flattop
haircuts go okay together in rare cases... like in Daryl Ponti's case. I
go, "I promise we'll see each other this summer, Pony. A couple of weekends
at least." He nods, "And you always keep your word, so... yeah, that's
cool."

When he nudges his face against mine, I kiss his sexy lips again and then,
out of the blue, he asks, "Do you have anything I could eat, Dylan? I
missed lunch." I grin and then chuckle, saying, "Um, well yeah, of course."
I make him the same thing I had for lunch... a chicken sandwich on Italian
bread with lettuce and mayo. He eats it and says, "Can I have another?" and
that makes me laugh again and each time he makes me laugh it's without him
trying to be funny. It's that, um, he's like clueless maybe, or as I said
he's pretty innocent... or it's some fucking thing. He makes me laugh, what
can I say... and again he goes, "What?" I muss his hair and say, "Oh,
nothing," and then make him another sandwich.

Ya know what? I would have loved having a younger brother to take care
of. Say, a brother the age Pony acts... haha, which is about fifteen most
of the time. Chubby's a day or two younger than me but he's always been my
big brother no matter that he always claims the opposite.

After eating his second sandwich, Pony takes a deep breath and asks, "Um,
would you mind if I sucked your dick for a while now?" Another laugh from
me as Pony grins, not quite sure why I laughed... or why he's grinning for
that matter. I go, "Yep, that would be fine." He frowns, saying, "Well,
stop laughing at me then, okay?" I go, "I'd never laugh at you Pony. I'm
laughing with you whether you realize it or not." He goes, "Oh, that's okay
then."

He gets up from the kitchen bar and comes around to where I'm standing, so
I'm like, "What are you up to, Pony?" He goes, "This," and he yanks my
jeans down past my hips, mumbling, "This will be a big letdown for me after
Barnard, but I'll still enjoy it." I'm just about to tell him to go fuck
himself when he looks up grinning, and I go, "I knew you didn't mean that."
He goes, "No, seriously, your dick is my second favorite to suck next to
Chickie's." I chuckle 'cause he's so full of shit and, as he casually pulls
my jockey shorts down to join my jeans just below my nuts, he goes,
"Chickie sticks some Reese's Pieces on his dick to get me gobbling on that
magnificent oddly smelling penis of his. And there's a weird-looking wart
near the strange pointed head on his dick," and we both bust a nut laughing
at that. Oh man, I like seeing him happy and laughing like this. This is
pure goofing around buddy-sex we're doing, just for the fun of it.

He's muttering, "I may as well do this properly," and he gets down on his
knees and then picks up my dick but pushes it to the side and does long
licks around my shaved groin. I'm still shaving down there a couple of
times a week, usually when showering alone. It looks cool and I like doing
it too. Somehow it reminds me of Chubby and me when we were in our early to
middle teen years shaving each other's legs because we didn't want hairy
legs. When we stopped doing that, imagine our surprise that we never had
any more hair growth on our legs than the little pale short hairs, hardly
visible, that we shaved for a couple of years. Now I think hairy legs are
sexy on a guy and I wonder if that's some kind of subconscious connection
to Chubby's and my leg shaving. But who the fuck knows what the
subconscious is up to, ya know?

My dick feels wet and warm in Pony's mouth and as the shaft is scraping
along the tops of his sharp bottom teeth I snort out a laugh wondering what
that handyman in Fort Lauderdale thought of Pony's teeth, or for that
matter what did Max think about that? Max probably never had his dick
sucked before and assumed the sharp incisors, or whatever the bottom teeth
are called, are supposed to scratch his dick. When Pony drags my cock
across those sharp teeth it makes my shoulders shudder. By now, whenever
Pony's sucking my dick I expect the sharp thrill of pain, and I actually
like it.

As I'm messing with Pony's pretty brown flattop hair, now almost too long
for a flattop, I ask, "What'd Max say when you dragged his cock over those
needle-sharp bottom teeth of yours?" Pony takes my cock out and holds it in
his fingers, and goes, "OOWWW! That's what he said, but he shot off all
three times I blew him so what's his problem? He wouldn't let me do it
again after the third time though, but it had nothing to do with my
teeth. It was because he said it could get habit forming and he felt weird
about that. As for Barnard, he mutters... 'watch the teeth, ya pussy
cunt'. He was great with the humiliating insults. Jeez, it's weird but that
experience is seeming almost a good sexy experience as time passes. It
probably won't be long before I begin considering checking the fares for a
quick trip back to Fort Lauderdale," and we both laugh. So, huh, I see
Pony's now got better 'material' for his one-liners after that trip to Fort
Lauderdale. Pretty funny shit.

My cock goes back in his mouth as I'm saying, "Yeah, maybe I'll go with
you," and he snorts and snickers at that, biting my dick as he does his
snickering, but he didn't draw blood. Pretty quickly I'm concentrating on
the sensations coming off my dick, so I drop the jokes. Pony's sucking and
licking to beat the band. It's great getting my dick sucked by someone who
likes doing it so much. Pony and I definitely have that, and a few other
things, in common. His wet and warm soft tongue constantly moves over the
hard head of my boner, plus Pony's developed some nice lip action. Yeah,
his lips free of their normal job of covering his teeth, are able to
energetically slide not only over the head but there's some nice movement
on the shaft too, his tongue fully involved, and it's a nice size pretty
pink tongue too. Not too big or too small and not too mushy or too
hard. All those types of tongues my dick has experienced and Pony's is
right up there near the top of the list as just about perfect for blow
jobs. This so-called blowjob ain't bad at all, it's pretty fucking good
actually. Pony's also doing steady stroking on the part of my pecker not in
his mouth and all of his actions, plus the frequent little jabs of pain
when he moves my hard cock on his bottom teeth are creating quite a unique
series of sensation for me. I don't know what Max or what's-his-name, um,
Barnard, thought about Pony's cock sucking, but I like it a lot 'cause he's
improved tremendously from the first time he did it. Not that I'm the first
guy Pony's blown, not by a long shot. Oh boy, and now a hard squeeze on my
nuts and I start grunting and moving my feet.

All I hear is the slurping mouth-sounds Pony's making, plus my own quick
breaths as I rub my fingers through his hair contemplating pushing my boner
down his throat. As I'm contemplating that, Pony pulls my cock out and
holds my wicked-hard penis in his fingers, his mouth wet all around with
saliva, as he exclaims "Goddamn, your penis has a nice taste to it, and you
smell good too!" I go, "Well, that's good to know! Why don't you stick it
back in your mouth and enjoy some more of it."? He lets go of my cock and
stands up, saying, "No!" I go, "Okay, don't put it back in your mouth."
He's like, "See how naughty I am? I defied you like the bitchy snatch I
am. I'm nothing but a bitch of a pussy and a back-talking cunt, so ya
better teach me some manners, don'cha think?"

Snickering, I mutter, "Gee, you learned some new tricks in Florida, huh?
That's a cute act but I know you're just trying to manipulate me into
spanking you, ya back-talking cunt, but I ain't gonna do it, and I'll tell
you why." He's grinning as he gropes himself, asking, "Why, ya pencil dick
motherfucker?" and I bend over laughing my nuts off, and then spit out,
"Because you need to pull your pants down first." Oh, Christ! This shit
isn't normally this funny but coming from Pony it is. Gawd, I'm laughing so
hard I can't catch my breath. The way he seriously says that shit, plus the
shit-eating expression on his face... priceless!

His glasses are, of course, totally smudged again and a little cockeyed as
he pushes them up with his forefinger and then mumbles, "Oh, okay, yeah I
see what you mean" and then he drops his pants to his ankles and hops a few
times turning around. Bending over with his hands on his knees, he looks
back at me and says, "Either spank my ass or kiss it ya poor excuse for a
'top'." Oh man! I'm like, "Hold it right there, four-eyes," and, still
chuckling, I walk around the kitchen bar and down the short hall to the
bedroom to get the Astroglide. Pony's yelling, "Where ya going, Dylan? Are
you getting a ping pong paddle? I hope..."

I'm back in the kitchen in thirty seconds holding up the Astroglide. Pony
nods his head and I whack his ass with my open hand, "SMACK!" and then I do
it a couple of more times, "SMACK! SMACK!" He mutters, "Oh, that feels so
good." Each time I whack his ass the top of his head bumps off the
refrigerator door, but he doesn't back away from it. I'm like, "There's not
enough room in here," and I grab his arm, "C' mon," he lifts up, whining,
"You're breaking the spell we were creating," but he follows me around the
kitchen bar to the living room. I'm like, "There's no room to do anything
in that little kitchen area."

Over near the sofa, I mumble, "Lean over the arm of the sofa and I'll spank
the shit out of you." He leans over the arm lying on his chest with his
hands flat on the cushion, mumbling, "Well, okay then." As I spread
Astroglide around it and inside his asshole, I ask, "Did that handyman
mention your hairless ass?" He goes, "Nope. I'd been lax about using the
Nair for Men and there may have been a few random ass hairs reappearing,"
and that makes both of us laugh. We're fucking giddy from talking all this
shit and we're a little drunk too I suppose. I go, "Few ass hairs, huh?
That's unacceptable, ya cunt lapper," and spank him until he puts his hands
back trying to cover his red butt cheeks.

He has a really nice ass actually, and I like that there's not a hair on
it. I've tried to see my own ass a few times with the help of a hand-held
mirror. Not recently, by the way, it was a couple of years ago, and yeah
I've got a hairless ass too and I don't need Nair for Men, or Nair for
Goats for that matter. Guys have mentioned my hairless ass so I wanted to
check. They were right too... not a hair on my ass.

When his ass is red from getting spanked, shiny with the lube I spread on a
couple of minutes ago, I'm like, "With all this fucking around, my boner
got kinda soft so I need to do a few strokes..." and I stroke my cock with
my slippery hand, getting lube on it while spanking his ass and, oh Christ,
does my slippery fist feel good tightly stroking my cock! My penis learned
long ago that it feels best when it's hard so it cooperates fully and with
only a few strokes it's wicked hard again and I'm pressing the rosy-colored
swollen head against Pony's anus, or if you prefer... his asshole. It
slides in tightly because no matter the size of the cock going in, the anus
will only open although very reluctantly and only the minimum amount, the
least amount it needs to open and I mean not one millimeter more. Hell, not
one micrometer more than it needs to open and as everyone knows a
micrometer is 1000th the size of a millimeter which is really, really tiny
to start with. That's just the way assholes work; they do the very least
they need to, so that's kinda annoying, but what would we do without an
asshole, ya know? So we got no choice but to put up with our asshole's
idiosyncrasies.

In other words, my boner is a tight fit but in a perfect way. Pony's body
tightens as he experiences a little pain but not a lot of pain and
certainly not too much because he likes the combination of pain and
pleasure during sex, and I do too. We know pain is a temporary situation
and what comes next is reason enough to be living... it's the gravy train
of sexual pleasure called anal fucking that some of us have a capacity to
enjoy it more than others. If I can take anything from Pony's moaning, I'll
assume he's on the higher end of the pleasure scale in that regard. And,
seriously, him liking it so much adds to the pleasure of whoever is fucking
his ass. I'm not sure the handyman in Fort Lauderdale cared if Pony was
experiencing pleasure or not, but he may have.

When I notice Pony's body relaxing, I push my hard cock up his ass steadily
and that feels incredibly good. For good measure, I'm squeezing his
buttocks and then rubbing those nice red stinging-looking buttocks mounds
of firm ass, and then squeezing them again. Pony goes, "Oooooh, mmmm..."
Yeah, I know how good it can feel having a cock up your ass. When my
hairless groin connects with his hairless butt cheeks, I mutter, "Ya got
any more funny shit to tell me?" He shakes his head and then groans and
looks back, grunting, "Hard, Dylan. Fuck me hard, okay?" Yeah, joking stops
when the sex starts feeling so good all you want is more of it, more of
those indescribable sensations known as sexual pleasure.

I smack the side of his ass with my hand and pull my boner back. Sucking on
my lips, trying not to moan this early at the incredible sensations coming
off my cock, I shudder instead. I don't shudder on purpose, I have no
choice. Involuntary shuddering is my body's reaction to the overwhelming
stimulus that is, in this situation, awesome pleasure coming off my
dick. Then, when I've pulled my boner back until only part of the head of
my swollen boned-up cock is still in his ass, I hesitate to take a silent
deep breath and then, making a 'face' of anticipation I thrust my
six-hard-inches of cock back up his ass, and I do it hard with a flesh
against flesh SLAP sound ringing out. Pony's back arches as he goes, "Mmmm,
ooh," and then it's steady, "SLAPSLAP," sounds and moans of sexual pleasure
for five steady minutes.

No discernible words are heard unless, "Ooh, ooh, ooh," and "Umpth, umpth,
umpth" and, "Aah, aah, ahh, ooh, ooh!" count as words. Oh man, nothing
feels better for me than this... except when I'm in Pony's position when
both penis and rectum are pleasure-treasures. Today my penis is carrying
the load and in some ways, it's simpler this way because I can concentrate
on just my dick whereas when I'm a 'bottom' it gets so I don't know what to
concentrate on 'cause the pleasure from nerve endings in my rectum AND
those coming from my rock hard cock both deserve my attention. That's when
it gets overwhelmingly fantastic and I start floating out in space 'cause
no place on earth seems worthy of that much pleasure.

And I admit when I'm 'topping', concerns of my partner's pleasure
continually get pushed further from my mind until it becomes all about my
pleasure. But, since I'm a 'bottom' mostly myself, when I'm the 'top' I try
to consider my sex partner's pleasure too. I'm not fucking Superman though
and that 'partner consideration' factor gets lost in the pleasure messages,
the pleasure translation gets garbled or some such shit and all my brain
eventually cares about is me.

Yeah, and that is totally true when a climax is approaching 'cause nothing
can stop that train... toot-toot, it demands undivided attention. Impending
climax sensations make me hold my breath, my mouth open a little and my
eyes blinking at the bright lights because for this split-second in time
I'm the fucking star of the world and then KABOOM I squeal at the
unbelievable sensations screaming around my body and brain... it's called a
climax. It's like I don't know what else to do except mindless hump against
these desirable mounds of firm human flesh, my boner encased in a really
tight sheath that's the perfect temperature as it tries strangling my hard
appendage and BOOM again, a second hard stream of my bodily fluids flies
out my boner into the darkness of a rectum with sensations exploding in me
and all around the outside of me... my cock is the center of the universe
with gigantic black holes circling it. Yes, MY COCK!

Omigod! And then I'm aware that the world I'm presently part of is just
around the corner getting ready to roar back into my consciousness, but not
quite yet as I moan, "Oooh, mmm," and shudder again. I'm almost surprised
to see Pony bent over the sofa arm in front of me and, oh yeah, my cock is
up his ass and he's saying something I'm only comprehending now, so only
hear the end... "so I'm sorry for that but what'd you expect?" Huh? Oh man,
that felt good! I do a few final thrusts in Pony's cum-filled ass, still
coming back from the stars and then, zoom, back to planet earth. I casually
rub his back, asking, "How ya doing... how was that?" realizing too late
that that was a pathetic attempt on my part to get a compliment about my
fucking. Taking a noisy deep breath I pull my dick out and watch cum follow
it out and then drool down Pony's ass. Huh, that's cool...

Pony stands up and steps away from the sofa, saying, "That was pretty
good. Not Barnard-good, but pretty good." Wow, I've still got some buzzing
around my cock and balls but I play it cool, saying, "Well, your ass is
pretty good too, although not Carl's-ass-good." He laughs and says, "You've
never fucked Car!" Then I see Pony's huge cum-shot drooling down under the
sofa's arm and I'm like, "Couldn't you catch some of that shit in your
hand? Jesus! Look at that mess." He goes, "I said I was sorry, but what'd
you expect when you pushed me over the arm of the sofa like that?"

Oh man, this is typical of buddy sex. After the thrill of climax, we're
immediately onto other matters like Pony spunking on the fucking sofa. I
never do that! Hardly ever. I'm pulling on my sloppy dick, saying weakly,
"You should have said something," and he goes, "Don't try to blame me."
Yeah, well...

Walking over to the end table, I grab some Kleenex out of the box and wipe
my dick, muttering, "You're right. I should have thought ahead and
anticipated that. Robby hangs a tea towel so it... well, never mind
that. No problem, I'll get some Lysol spray cleaner. It can handle that
tiny drool of semen." He laughs, "If you call that tiny, I'd like to see
what you consider a big drool of cum." As I'm pulling up my pants, I
mutter, "Look up your ass. You'll see a big drool." I snicker to myself and
get the cleaner and some paper towels. Pony goes, "Aren't you gonna help me
clean my ass first? C'mon Dylan, treat me nice." I say, "Sorry... I should
do that, you're right. Turn around, Daryl," and when he does I spray some
Lysol cleaner on his ass and wipe off drooling cum with a paper
towel. Then, handing him the gooey paper towel, I mutter, "How's that?"

Walking to the kitchen, Pony drops the paper towel in the trash, saying,
"It's more than the last guy did for me." After cleaning the end of the
sofa, I look at the smear of wet... hmm, I'll bet that's gonna leave a
mark. Putting the spray cleaner away I look at the beer bottles and bourbon
bottle on the bar and again realize a lot of our goofiness is probably
because of the booze. We're not drunk, not much anyway. It's just that the
liquor decreases inhibitions. Yeah, but that was some fun sex... yep, it
was.

We go out on the balcony for an after sex smoke. Pony's leaning against me,
saying, "We should have more sex than we do. Don't ya think." I'm like,
"Don't lean on me all the time, Pony." He goes, "I like to lean on you,"
and he leans harder so I put my arms around him as I'm mumbling, "Christ,
we have sex every chance we get. There are so many roadblocks though, like
our class schedules and your roommate's class schedule and then I am, as
you know, involved in a full-time loving relationship and then there's your
bowling fetish." He laughs, "I go bowling twice a week." I mutter, "Twice a
week we could be fucking." He turns around to lean against me face to face
now, grinning and saying, "I'm not giving up the bowling for this!" Haha!

Back inside we continue insulting each other good-naturedly and then later
we're in the bathroom acting like thirteen-year-old girls for fifteen
minutes fucking with each other's hair. Pony's trying to get my hair to
look like a flattop again and then I try to comb his to look preppy like
Rob's. We both need haircuts so our hair is long enough that we're both
partially successful. It soon gets boring though so we leave our hair
looking fucked-up with hair gel and go back in the kitchen where I get
another beer and Pony has a shot of bourbon.

He makes a face as he swallows the liquor and then asks, "What are you
going to do first thing after graduating?" Huh, that's a good
question. Shrugging, I'm like, "I guess I'll get a job. I should probably
be thinking more seriously about that, actually." He goes, "Do you think
you could hire me when I graduate next year?" Shrugging again, I go,
"Maybe. Well, not me, but I can get you an interview wherever I'm working,
which will most likely be for Rob, and I'll put in a fantastic
recommendation for you, sure." He goes, "Good! Now I don't need to worry
about that anymore." I roll my eyes and give him a hug.

Then he goes, "Oh, I meant to mention, I need a reference book for some
project that's due before the end of the semester." I go, "And why are you
telling me that bit of trivia?" He says, "Because you're going to help me
get the fucking book." I go, "Oh," and for the next hour we're in the
college library doing that. Later I make dinner for us and as Pony has
another shot of bourbon as I get a text from Robby saying they're on the
bus and only about a half-hour from Merrimack. He has a ride to the
apartment from Merrimack so I don't need to pick him up.

Twenty minutes later I drop off Pony and then wait for the bus to arrive. I
wanna surprise Robby, but after I smoke a cigarette it dawns on me the bus
was due twenty minutes ago. What the fuck? I'm about to text Robby when I
get a text from him. He's at the apartment asking where I am. Huh, I guess
the bus dropped off the team below the ballpark and not in the parking
lot. I text that info to Robby and drive back.

Aw, we have a little reunion after being apart all day. It's just some hugs
and kisses. Rob then tells me he had a double and a home run in the game
that Merrimack won 12 to 4. So, yeah, he's in a good mood and in bed before
sleeping we fuck with me enjoying my preferred position, which is the
'bottom' one in case ya just crawled out from under a rock and didn't know
that.

The rest of the week was mostly Robby playing in baseball games, bus rides
to and from away games, and trying to stay on top of the college academic
side of things at the same time. I helped with that but it's not a great
time for me when Rob's away this much. Pony and I got together for
basically a repeat of Monday's activities but since Danny and Carl are also
on the baseball team, I mostly eat lunch and dinner in the apartment alone,
which I don't like doing. On the other hand, I'm not motivated to go out
and intermingle with guys I know from classes this year, and from earlier
years too, some of whom I like okay. What I'm saying is, eating alone is my
fault. And I didn't do any boy-watching either. No wandering around looking
for magical connections because I don't feel like doing that either, so
that's also my fault.

Chubby has his own life on campus and I don't feel right expecting him to
drop everything just because Robby's away. I know Chubby would do it and
it's tempting to ask him but I resist doing that because I'm not a fucking
baby. Having free time to myself ain't all bad actually and I finish my
book and then begin another one, plus I'm being a conscientious nerd with
the class work at the apartment. That's because I want to support Robby and
he's both impressed and appreciative about it. I'm like, "C'mon, it's
nothing." It was more than 'nothing' though... it is something.

During the college baseball season, I'm used to not seeing nearly as much
of Rob as I'd like although he is here almost every night. Ya know, except
for random overnight stays for games down south. And now it's two full
weeks after spring break and starting the third week Rob has the last
overnight games of the season, so he is away tonight. Not only am I missing
him a lot, but between practices and games and classes and studying, it's
like I can't remember when I last saw Danny. I see Carl during Rob's study
groups and Carl stays for dinner like three or four nights a week, but I
haven't seen Danny for more than ten minutes at a time for two weeks now.

Like we did the last two weeks, Pony and I play nice together a couple of
afternoons, and I've been having coffee with Connor once or twice a week
too. In some ways, it seems time is rushing by and at other times it moves
like molasses. Robby's happy when the team wins and happier if they win and
he gets a couple of hits. For me, it's a less exciting routine spending too
much time reading my book. This third week after spring break I finally
can't resist intruding on Chubby's routine and when he texts me to see how
I'm doing I casually ask what he's doing tonight? That's all I need to ask
and he right away wants us to have dinner together. We eat dinner out one
night and another night I go with him, John Beverly and three other guys to
this bar. It was okay except I knew I was sort of cramping Chub's style as
he was constantly making sure I was having a good time. He told me he and I
are having a 'brothers' day some Saturday before the semester ends. It'll
be just him and me all day...

Pony texted me today, Saturday. It was right after I dropped Rob off for
another bus ride to another college for another away game. Pony's text:
'After we get haircuts this morning do you wanna go bowling with Max and
me. You can drive... haha!' So those two numbnuts need a ride to the
bowling alley, obviously. I text back: 'Danny is on a bus going to God
knows where for a baseball game, so forget the haircut.' He texted back,
"Oh, yeah, that's right. How about bowling?' He's flexible. I go bowling
with them. Tenpins, not candlepins, and do I ever suck at ten pins! Max and
Pony aren't a helluva lot better and they're supposed to be bowlers!

Max seemed almost as immature as Pony, which shouldn't have surprised me
considering how they met. Meaning, Max hit Pony with a snowball like a
nine-year would do as a way to meet a new friend... bop him on the head
with a snowball and ask, 'What's your name?' Jesus!  Anyway, I felt like
one of those Big Brother guys taking the little brothers without dads out
for a day. Ah, fuck, we had a good time and Robby wasn't going to be home
from the game in time for dinner anyway so I treated the guys to a
Fuddruckers dinner. Max offered to pay his share but then told me he'd need
to owe me because his allowance ran out. Allowance! I told him it was my
treat.

We all make it through another week. It's Friday and there's no game so Rob
will be here, but there's baseball practice so it won't be a major change
in my schedule. Here's what is changing though... this weekend is Easter
Sunday which means less than four weeks until, ta-da!... graduation. We'll
start studying for finals next week. I'm both nervous and excited.

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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