Date: Sun, 16 Nov 2014 13:41:16 -0500
From: MGTBILL@aol.com
Subject: DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR Chapter  14

			  DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR

				Chapter  14

			     by  Donny Mumford


Right now I'm in the shower thinking about going to bed, and it's not  even
nine o'clock. It's been a strange seven days here at Merrimack with me
turning down so much side-sex lately I find myself hopelessly horny. Thank God
for that extemporaneous sex with Robby this afternoon or else this would be
 yet another sex-starved day for me. I wonder if what I'm experiencing is
like  drug and alcohol withdrawal? My lack of sex is probably having a
negative  effect on my neural and hormonal systems too, as well as my mind. This
can't  possibly be what Robby has planned for us, not this soon anyway. How
the hell  do some of my fellow students go weeks, or as long as a whole year
for some  unfortunate guys, without having sex with someone? They depend on
jerking off  I suppose, but that's an inferior substitute for sex! Jesus!
It's like I'm  testing myself to see how much sex I can deprive my mind and
body of. Sure,  there are crazy monks in monasteries high in the mountains of
Tibet somewhere  who go forever without having sex of any kind, the
fanatical loonies.  Obviously that's not normal behavior and probably offends the
laws of nature,  whatever they might be. The fact is I'm overdoing it again,
but this time I'm  overdoing it by going too far in the other direction. Some
side-sex every now  and then keeps the bodily systems in balance. I've
gotta assume that's true,  in my case anyway. This coming weekend probably isn't
happening at a good time  for me either. I say that because I see little to
no opportunities for  side-sex possibilities Saturday or Sunday, and then
we're right back at school  on Monday. I've passed up so many side-sex
opportunities this week,  opportunities that probably won't be coming around again
for awhile, if they  ever come around again. And it doesn't help that I
refuse to change my  philosophy about seeking side-sex, which is: I never seek
it out myself. It  still has to happen on it's own and, like I said, once I
say 'no' to guys like  Dougie, Jamie, Danny Monday, and Ryan they aren't
likely to ask again. No one  likes rejection, and I just listed all the
side-sex possibilities I know of  here at Merrimack, so it's a bleak outlook. Plus,
Robby and I didn't have our  'talk' about side-sex for the week, so I
didn't even get to brag about my  efforts in that regard. I'm screwing this up,
and for what? Robby's having his  sexy fun, probably.

Man, it ain't easy being me sometimes. Anyway, fuck it, I refuse to  feel
sorry for myself. Okay, another topic: the reason I'm going to bed this
early is I want a good nights sleep so I'll be well rested to welcome home two
good friends tomorrow, Conner and Dodger. Plus I don't have anything else to
 do. Seeing the Army boys will be a good time for all of us.  I've
sincerely missed them both, but wait a second here; I didn't consider Connor,  who
claims to be in love with me. In reality I think it's more a case of him
wanting to be in love, but he hasn't discovered what love is yet, and anyway
that's not the point. He'll probably hint around for side-sex, so why
shouldn't I accommodate him? I mean, he's a wonderful young man and I love him
as a friend, plus he's one of our country's military who are dedicated to
protecting our freedom, so ya know, show him some appreciation. Yes, our two
Framingham Army boys triumphant return is finally here and all Americans
need  to take our hats off to these guys. Okay, they've only conquered basic
training so far, but there will be other things for them to conquer in the
future. I'm hoping they think of this as a triumphant return anyway, and I
don't see why they wouldn't. For one thing they both were selected for
leadership training school, which I would think they'd be proud of. They were
the only two chosen out of all the guys in their platoon, or barracks, or
whatever it's called. Sure, it meant they had to stay an extra week after
basic training, but there are benefits for doing that. For example, as I
understand it, at their assignment in Advanced Individual Training, which will  be
in Sam Houston, Texas, for medic training, they'll be assistant squad
leaders. Because of that they get to have their own room in the barracks
instead of sharing bunk beds with a whole bunch of guys out on the floor. They
don't know what the other perks they'll be, but they say there'll be some.
Both Connor and Dodger felt it was worth the extra week of training, and
they'd know better than I. Hmmm, I wonder how it was decided they were suited
for training to be medics? No one's explained that, but the best part is
they'll be together. Both of them emailed me saying they're very happy about
that unexpected development. I'm no expert, but it seems to me being a medic
is better than being in infantry training, crawling around in the dirt and
whatnot.


Shutting the shower off and drying myself I'm now thinking about Dougie
Hamilton and his roommate Jamie, and their first fuck together a little while
ago. They wanted a three-some but I stupidly said 'no', so then they
insisted  I observe them doing it, mostly for Jamie's benefit. He felt better
having an  experience person present for his first time, claiming it would ease
his mind.  He claimed it would allowed him to relax a little too. You know,
in case  anything went wrong, which is so crazy it's almost funny. They
called it  refereeing their first sex. How insane is that? It was hot though, oh
yeah!  They said I helped them break the ice about having sex together.
What the hell, I felt good helping them,  and the part I should be proud of is
that I didn't  participate. Having said that, I now realize I made a mistake
because I'm  hornier than I've ever been in my life. Watching Dougie
fucking Jamie  heightened my horniness to levels unheard of previously. I can't
help but  think turning down all this side sex isn't what it's cracked up to
be. I'm not  a friggin' martyr, so why am I acting like one. Sure, I want to
cut down on  side-sex for Robby, but I've overdone it obviously. I tend to
overdo at times,  with everything. I imagine moderation applies when one's
cutting down on side  sex, or if not it should apply. Moderation with side-sex
and with cutting back on  it. And, as I said, I'm not suppose to be acting
like I belong to some  fanatical, celibate religious order. I merely need to
cut out a little side  sex, not go crazy with it. I'm grasping that concept
a little bit late  unfortunately. Yep, it's clear to me now. Tonight I
should have helped those  two out and had a three-way sex-a-thon with them like
they wanted. Gawd, that  would have been hot! Those young studs with their
young cocks and their  scarcity of sex. It combines to make them awesomely
horny and eager for an  orgasm like only gay sex can provide. As it was, the
orgasm Jamie had was  priceless! His first stream of cum shot out with the
force of a fire hose and  didn't come down to earth until it was six feet
away, and his follow-up  streams were almost as explosive. BAM! What a climax!
Ha ha, oh man! It was  his first orgasm getting fucked up the ass and I'm
thinking he won't soon  forget it. Those two are probably going at it for
seconds right now while I'm  here beating myself up. Nothing I can do about it
now.  What the fuck,  I'll brush my teeth and get to bed. Yeah, but that was
some hot young sex  those two had. It was like me back in the day when my fat
mentor, Carl, took a  personal interest in fucking me extra hard. And
what'd I do as Dougie's  mentor, nothing except reject him. What kind of a mentor
is that? Hmmm, this  melancholy mood I'm in is sort of morbid, and I don't
like it at all. Brighten  up! That's what I need to do.

Here's something that still might work out. Jamie  mentioned twice that
Dougie is fanatical about having sex with me. If another  opportunity presents
itself I just might let him do it. Of course, there's  also a chance he may
never suggests it again for the reason I thought of  earlier about guys
resenting rejection. However, the young can sometimes let  rejection roll off
their backs. And they can be more persistent than an older  guy too. An older,
more experienced guy might just say fuck it and move on to  someone else.
In any case it'll still need to be Dougie suggesting it to me,  although he
won't need to say please like Ryan insisted I do that time.  Yeah, and what's
up with Ryan? It's so strange, but I need to admit the sexual  fire seems
to have gone out between us. It's like he was baiting me for an  argument
during the weight lifting. Was he looking for an excuse to end it  between us?
If so, why? Oh well, he got himself messed up in the head this  summer and I
don't know what I can do about that. Best I can do at this point  is be his
friend and try excusing his weird behavior. Yeah, but it sure looks  like
our screwing days together are behind us. Be that as it may, it doesn't  mean
I need to go without any side sex at all. Okay, I've purposely missed  some
opportunities lately, which has put me in the position of hoping they'll be
others opportunities. Not  exactly familiar territory for me, but there it
is staring me in the face. If  an invitation for side-sex should
miraculously appears out of the blue I won't  swing and miss at it this time. Hmmm,
perhaps when all is said and done I  spend way too much time thinking about
sex, or the scarcity of it. Yeah, I'm  pretty sure that's a possibility.

Getting in bed, I'm determined to put thoughts of sex to the side for
awhile. After laying here a few minutes I'm thinking how it feels odd being in
bed this early. I'll never get to sleep! Then, the next thing I know I open
my  eyes and look at my watch, yes I wear my wristwatch to bed. It's eight
minutes  after eight! Wow, I almost slept twelve hours, so I must have needed
the  sleep. Rustling around from my left side to my right side, I now see
just the  top of Robby's head. The covers hide half his head, probably from
him bouncing  around in his sleep. Strange that he didn't wake me up when he
came to bed  last night. How late could a beer and pizza party with
teammates have lasted?  Huh, if I was the suspicious type I might think Robby was
out messing around  after the party with that hot infielder, Danny Monday.
Robby doesn't hold his  booze very well either, and when he's slightly
inebriated his inhibitions  lessen. With less inhibition, what he might not think to
do when sober all of  a sudden seems like a damn good idea when drunk.
Luckily I can hold my liquor  better than Robby, but that's not the point here.
The point is that side-sex  is still allowed for Robby and me, and he's
entitled to mess around with Danny  if he chooses. I'm going to leave it at that
because I don't want to know  what, if anything, happened sexually between
them. Robby's realistic about  that, and I haven't been at times. The bottom
line, I've overdone turning  side-sex down, so that's on me and my poor
judgement. The ironic thing about  all this is, I not only get disappointed in
myself when I overdo side-sex, now  I'm disappointed that I overdid turning
it down. What I need to do is find  some middle ground... the moderation
thing I was thinking about should be my  latest motto. Moderation in everything
including side sex. That's if I ever  get another chance for side-sex. I
could be on the precipice of a long draught  in that regard, so I better
prepare myself mentally for the fallout. Jesus, I  hope I don't get depressed!
I've heard depression's a bitch.


Oh man, it's too early to get up so I better try going back to sleep. I
quickly realize that's not happening so I get up telling myself to stop
thinking about sex, period! After my bathroom ritual, I pull on some sweat
pants, step into sandals, and go shirtless into the kitchen for coffee.  Fiddling
with my nip ring, the one Ryan gave me, I'm looking out the sliding  glass
door and see that it's real sunny outside. Nice! And it's suppose to be
unseasonably warm today too. I wouldn't want a cold rainy day greeting Connor
and Dodger back home. Putting some music on, but not too loudly, I take my
coffee to the balcony along with the Boston Globe sports page. My intention
is  to have some quiet time all by my lonesome. Lighting a cigarette, I
smoke  while reading the paper and drinking my coffee. Multitasking.  When I'm
done with that I lay on the outdoor chaise lounge thinking again about
Dougie  and Jamie making-out on this thing last night. They were hot together and
I'm  happy for both of them. That's proper mature thinking right there...
be happy  for them instead of feeling sorry for myself. I'll be fine. Then I
let my mind  wander deeply into a complicated sexual fantasy involving
Sonny, Dougie,  Jamie, me and that hot ticket from Wildwood, Junior, in a sexy
five-way  sex-a-thon. It's getting molten hot in my mind when Chubby bops out
joining me  on the balcony with his awesome brotherly-love smile. My fantasy
fizzles away  as Chubby rubs my hair, mumbling, "Hi, my beautiful brother.
You're up early."  I hop up off the chaise lounge and give him a kiss good
morning, then tell him  how I went to sleep last night at nine o'clock. He
yawns, saying, "Well, I'm  happy for you, bro. I got to bed, smelling like
french fries, around  two-thirty. Dude, that's a long-ass shift at Mc Donalds,
eight friggin' hours  straight."


Grinning at him, I go, "Oh, you poor thing. I've heard a rumor  though...
it's that out in the real world of business everyone works  eight-hour days."
He chuckles, asking, "Are they all going to college at the  same time
they're working those eight hour days?" He's got me there. He says,  "It wasn't
all bad though, I met another chick last night. She was in my line  during a
shift I had on one of the registers. It's weird because she wasn't  really
stacked or anything, but she was still sexy somehow. I think it was her
enormous lips. They looked swollen like from a couple of bee stings, or maybe  a
wasp sting or two. Anyway, she gave me her phone number." I go, "Uh huh,
wasp stings on the lips must sting. Hey, how's Clitoris doing?" He grins at
me, "Dolores? I renamed her, Babs, remember? She's pissed at me because I
can't take her out tonight. Her and her girlfriend stopped by for free
burgers." I ask, "How's that work?" Chubby shrugs, "It's no big deal. I ring  up
her order, she gives me a dollar bill, and I give her four quarters change.
The register won't balance of course, but it never balances anyway." I
frown,  "That's sort of like you're stealing, no?" He goes, "What? What the fuck
ya  talking about? No, I'm not the one eating the fucking burgers! Babs is
the one  stealing." I laugh, "Um, I don't think it works that way." Chubby's
on to  another topic, saying, "You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna fix
you up with  a babe, and we'll double date. Your problem is you've never tried
having sex  with a girl. Oh my God, you'll be pleasantly surprised. It's
quite different  from, um..." then he shrugs and doesn't finish his sentence.
I know why too.  It's because it reminded him that he's tried the other way
with me. Plus that  animal, Ricky, did it to Chubby. I don't know how many
times he did it with  Chubby during those horrible window washer days, but
it's scarred my brother.  Chubby was sort of brainwashed by Ricky and his
father in those days. Not just  Chubby, all the window washer boys. This is a
taboo topic, so I'm not going  there.

I let Chubby's unfinished sentence lay there for a second, and then  change
the subject to get Chubby's mind off that bad memory. "Ya know, Chubby,
today is the day for the return of our friends, Dodger and Connor." He goes,
"Yeah, that's awesome!  Robby emailed me yesterday. You and him are  picking
up your friend, Cory, right?" I go, "Yeah, if Robby ever gets out of  bed.
When are you heading back to Framingham?" He says, "Sometime this  morning.
I wanna be there when mom wakes up. Um, do you think Robby would mind  if I
brought MJ to the welcome home thing?" I go, "Yeah, everyone will mind,  but
I'm sure it'll be okay with Robby anyway." He chuckles, pointing at me
with his finger, grinning, "Be nice, bro. She's not so bad." I go, "As long as
nobody mentions extraterrestrials to her we should be okay." He laughs,
"That  was a blast, wasn't it? Miss-information. Jesus!" Good, his mind's off
the  unpleasant shit involving the window washer days of years gone by. Some
things  linger in the back of your consciousness forever, and then flash
through your  brain torturing you when you least expect it. Chubby glances at
the sports  page as we talk about the surprising Red Sox, then Robby joins
us. He sounds  like he's hurting, "Hi guys. Good morning, I think ." Chubby
says, "Dude, you  don't look too good." Robby takes a deep breath, "I drank
too much last  night." He leans down and gives me a kiss on the lips, "Wha'cha
do last night,  Dylan? Have any fun?" I say, "Sort of I guess, I gave those
guys haircuts and  we hung around talking and finishing off the Rolling
Rock beer." Chubby asks,  "Who's turn is it to buy the beer?" We try to figure
that out for awhile until  Robby finally says, "Fuck it, I'll get the next
case," adding, "But we'll soon  be drinking draft light beer in honor of the
PX boys. That's what they drink  at the PX." Chubby mutters, "Nothing wrong
with that. Um, Robby, would you  mind if I brought MJ to the thing tonight?"
Robby goes, "Of course I don't  mind, Chub, bring anyone you want." That
makes me wonder if I should ask about  inviting Seth, then think better of it
because Robby's got this thing in his  head that Seth's a side-sex partner
of mine. Well, he is, but no sense making  it official and clouding the
issue. Especially now when I've been turning down  side-sex left and right. I'll
have a good report to make if we ever have our  so-called meeting. No, I'm
sure we'll have that 'talk' sooner or later, and I  should get some praise
for my Herculean efforts turning down side sex. Hmmm, I  wonder how Seth's
making out with his online dating partner, Jackie Bradley?  Yeah, Seth....


Chubby goes inside to take  a shower.  Robby and I go inside to get another
cup of coffee. Back on  the balcony I light a cigarette and offer one to
Robby. He waves his hand at  it, muttering, "Oh God, no. I smoked too much
last night, along with too many  beers." I ask, "Did you have a good time at
least?" He nods his head, "Oh  yeah, baby, it was fun. We've got a good bunch
of guys. The infielders rock,  but I'm paying the price today when I should
be at my best to welcome the Army  boys home." I tell Robby, "What you need
to do is take some Tylenol and drink  a big glass of OJ, then lay down and
get some more sleep. Later I'll drive us  home and you can rest more during
the ride." He grins at me, "You're awesome,  Dylan, thanks. I could use
another hour or so of sleep." He gets up and kisses  me again, mumbling, "Love
ya," then goes in to do what I suggested. Huh, he  just about admitted that
him and Danny were fucking around last night. I hope  I don't see any
embarrassing cum stains on the pick-up's seat. Embarrassing  for Robby, not me. On
the other hand, how would I know it's not one of my cum  stains from all the
times Robby fucked me in that awesome pickup. Heh heh, we  had some great
sexy times in that truck. I wonder if Danny's a top, and if  he'll ever
proposition me again. Probably not. But what the hell am I doing  thinking about
sex again. I need to get a grip!


After changing the CD, I'm back on the chaise  lounge trying not to think
about sex. Instead I find myself  getting slightly sentimental thinking of
all the nonsexual things about Connor  and Dodger I've appreciated over the
last few years, all the things that made  me love them. I can see Connor's
face, his incredibly good looking Irish face.  Dark hair and pale complexion,
beautiful eyes, and above everything else, his  smile... that's the
unbelievable thing about Connor, he smiles right back into  the face of his hard
life. He kind of smiled his way through it. And what an  honorable life he's led
overcoming those obstacles, ones he had to face  everyday. The poverty and
living in that dangerous neighborhood. It's  like daily his life and well
being were in danger. Every time he left their  small apartment he faced the
possibility of being beaten-up or worse, and by  the very kids living in his
own rundown neighborhood. The losers who gave in  to the struggles of
poverty, joining gangs after dropping out of school.  Connor would not submit to
any of it. As a lonely gay boy with no family other  than a crack head for a
mother, he fought the odds with his shy smile being  his only defense. He
fought passively against the negative factors he  encountered all the time.
His mother existed on welfare and the money Connor  made working part-time
jobs, and yet Connor overcame all that and managed to  go to school every day.
Each day he'd wear those ratty sneakers and one or the  other of the only
two pairs of jeans and two white shirts he owned. Each night  he washed one
set in the bathtub and wore the other to school the next day.  Connor told me
about his sad wardrobe situation one night. He of course  shrugged it off,
blushing with embarrassment at the same time. Well, it  shocked me maybe more
than many of his other hardships because high school  kids are generally
very conscious about their appearance, and here was Connor  with two shirts
and two pairs of faded jeans. After hearing that I remember  the hatred I felt
for his absentee father and his worthless mother. I knew not  to share my
anger about that with Connor because he didn't see bad things. He would have
brushed it off  with, 'Oh, others are worse off than me'. I know he'd say
that, so I said  nothing.


Connor, that sweet, brave kid who walked two miles to and from his
apartment building everyday, no matter the weather, to catch the school bus in  a
safer part of town, and always with his shy smile and quiet nice word for
everyone. He was  a damn good student too. A conscientious hard worker.  Yeah,
his friendship inspires me even as I think about the circumstances of  his
life that break my heart. So many heart wrenching strokes of bad luck
befell that boy, but still the smile from Connor who seemingly refused to
acknowledge any of it. Words can't express my frustration at the unfairness of
life, the harsh soulless reality of never-ending hard times for some. The Army
 represents Connor's best chance to victoriously and convincingly beat the
overwhelming obstacles in his life once and for all. He needed to overcome
so  many degrading and horrific circumstances just to graduated high school,
and  then he completed his freshman year at Merrimack too. More bad luck
though  when his college benefactor who cosigned for his college loans died
unexpectedly. So what did Connor do? Cry and feel sorry for himself? Of
course  not, he enlisted in the Army and now in two years, minus nine weeks, of
additional honorable service, Connor will have fulfill his enlistment
commitment.  During that time he'll have accumulated, through savings and  the
Army college fund, all the money he needs to complete his college  education.
And I have no doubt he'll do it. Not a single doubt!  After  that he'll get
a good paying job, and he'll finally walk away from all the  negative
influences he grew up enduring. He's already conquered all the shit  he was forced
to deal with for almost twenty years, now he'll finish the job  in the
Army, then college, and I can only pray to God he'll still have his  smile when
it's all been said and done.


Then there's Dodger with an opposite life experience. Dodger's parent
aren't rich so much as they're hard working people who make a honest,
above-average living. Nice home and a loving environment to grow up in. Dodger  and
his brother, Robby, are almost as close as Chubby and me. There's lots of
love in the family for all, love and support. A hard working, but frugal
family. For example, Dodger got the hand me down pickups from his older
brother, who got them from his dad. So they had their own modest  transportation,
but nothing like new or fancy ones, and they were all content  with what they
had. No jealousy or sibling rivalry among the brothers and the  parent
doted on them just about the right amount if you ask me. So Dodger had  that
going for him, but we all have demons and whatever Dodger's were caused  him to
enlist in the Army. That may turn out to be admirable in itself when we
find out why he enlisted, but there are things I admired about Dodger before
he enlisted. For one thing, his obvious love of life making it infectious
for  those around him. Every minute Dodger enjoyed it to the fullest and he
dragged  others along for the ride, almost willing them to have fun. He enjoys
life and  put lots of energy into making other's lives around him brighter.
I admire his  intelligence and wit too. He's a funny kid, much like Chubby.
Dodger and  Chubby are actually kindred spirits, and they both shine
somehow. They have a  glow about them. Both are extremely loyal to their friends
and family.  Dodger's mischievous, but never devious. Under his grinning
smart-ass remarks  and hijinks is a responsible and caring person. Like Connor,
Dodger's also a  gay boy in hiding. He dealt with the challenges of that,
challenges that  straight boys couldn't possibly fathom, but like Connor,
Dodger deals with  what he needs to deal with smiling all the way. Dodger's fun
to be around,  period. His outrageousness delights me and makes me laugh and
feel good. I  also love that he loves me in friendship... it makes me feel
special and good  about myself. He always makes me feel special and he did
the first day I met  him right up till the last day I saw him. He's a
confident kid, more so than  his brother, and I've always admired that. Yeah, I
admire Dodger. The way he  brashly joined the Army for reasons of his own, is
so typically Dodger. He did  it for reasons unknown, except by him, but I'm
pretty sure his reason or  reasons for doing what he did are good ones. I
love both of the Army boys, but  for totally different reasons. To me, friends
are more valued than gold.  Friends bring my life alive with a brilliant
light.  My best friend,  Chubby, is reason enough to wake up every day happy...
happy and looking  forward to what comes next.


Ya know what? I just had a thought. I should get a little something as  a
welcome home gift for both Connor and Dodger. Hmmm, maybe a cool necklace,
or no, one of those cool leather wrist bracelets like Willie gave me. Yeah,
they're not that expensive, but they're something to remind the guys I'm
thinking of them whenever they wear it. Getting up off the chaise lounge, I go
 in to check on Robby. He's sleeping peacefully looking so cute, young, and
 innocent. I almost said 'pretty' too. He and Dodger are freaks of nature
in  that they're beautiful with awesome bodies and God-given athletic skills.
 Looking enough alike to be twins, especially now that Dodger's had his
growth  spurt and is now a half inch taller than Robby and me. Yeah, twins
except  Dodger has brown hair and brown eyes and Robby has blue eyes and blond
hair.  Quite a pair of exceptional brothers. I'm thrilled I know them. While
Robby  sleeps on, I've sincere hope he feels a lot better when he wakes up
this time.  I think he will. Leaving a note telling him what I'm doing, I
grab his keys to  the pickup and go down the stairs and outside to find where
he parked the  pickup last night. What a surprise! The pickup's parked in the
second row,  right down from the back door. How does he do that? I can
never find a good  parking space.


While driving to the Rockinham Mall in Salem, New Hampshire, I'm  wondering
why I didn't take the Jeep. Then I remember why, Chubby's driving  home
this morning to be there when his mom wakes up. I'd like to do that too,  but
Robby need for more sleep to recover from his hangover supersedes me  getting
home early.  At the mall, ah ha! for once I find a good parking spot near
one of the doors to Macy's. As I'm pulling into it, out of the corner of my
eye, I see a woman walking towards the parking lot. She stops about six
feet  from me while I park, and then goes on her way. I think nothing of it.
That is  until I get out of the pickup feeling good about my idea to buy a
welcome home  gift for my two friends. I take a few steps towards the crosswalk
to Macy's  when another woman, this one in a big SUV, stops at the entrance
to the  parking garage. She puts her car window down, and arrogantly says
to me,  "What's wrong with you? You cut right in front of that woman's path
to the  parking garage. Where's your manners?" I'm baffled as I look at her,
thinking,  'What the fuck?' This is nuts, so I frown at her as she sits
there all  righteous and politically correct in her huge SUV. Of course the
first thought  that enters my mind is, 'Why don't you go fuck yourself?' Instead
I ask, "I  don't want to be rude, but have you ever given a thought to
minding your own  business? Did you ever think of that, ever give it a thought?"
She turns red,  and I add, "That woman and me were fine with each other.
She hadn't even  reached the parking garage when I'd finished parking." The
woman in the SUV is  indignant now, and snarls, "Watch your fresh mouth. She
had to stop, that's  why she didn't reach the garage. You bullied your way in
front of her. You  obviously weren't raised properly, that's plain to see,"
and I go off. "You  holier than thou pompous ass. Don't you dare disparage
the way I was raised. I  don't go around sticking my nose in everybody's
business like you obviously  do. You assume you know what's the only right way
to do things, but I'm here  to tell you that you can stick your opinion of
that up your fat ass, you  busybody bitch!" I'm walking towards her during my
rant. She gets a little  hysterical, yelling, "I'm calling the police." I
say, "You do that, bitch, the  police love to be bothered with bullshit like
this." Her tires squeal as she  pulls away, red faced and sputtering with
saliva spray hitting her windshield.  After watching her driving wildly away,
I get back in the pickup and move it  to the other side of the parking lot.
So much for a good parking spot, but it  makes no sense taking the chance
she connects with a cop as fucked-up as she  is. In some situations there's no
way you can win, so fuck 'em... and avoid  them. The woman walking hadn't
given a thought about waiting for two seconds  while I finished parking. She
wasn't even out of the crosswalk  yet!


Yeah, I can try  rationalizing it away, but the fact is  I'm still fuming
as I go into  Macy's. Something like that can ruin a good day. It's ass
backwards that  people walking in the street have the right away, and cars must
screech to a  halt. What the fuck are sidewalks for? Of course I stop at
crosswalks when  someone wants to cross the street, but it's dangerous and
stupid to slam on  the brakes at would be jay walkers thinking maybe they're
going to walk out in  front of you, or screech on the brakes every time you see
someone walking near  a parking lot. Jesus, it makes no sense! I go to the
second level where  Dunkin' Donuts is located for an iced coffee to cool off.
That pushy woman got  my blood pressure boiling. What makes a person feel
they have the right to  chastise a total stranger, especially when the total
stranger did nothing  wrong. It's infuriating! What must she be like to live
with, or deal with in  any daily capacity? Scary thought! After getting my
iced coffee I'm outside  Dunkin' Donuts checking out the passing parade of
people. Not much of interest  here except I see a young teen wearing an
outrageous t-shirt. It reads on the  front, 'No! I haven't seen your LSD, dude.
But, have you seen the fucking  dragons in the kitchen?!' Ha ha, ballsy of
him to wear that politically  incorrect t-shirt. I'd love for that bitch in
the SUV to see this dude's  t-shirt. Oh man! Ha ha! Too bad the kid wearing
the t-shirt looks like a  troll.  Wait a minute, ooh, look at that guy. A
slim, cool looking Asian dude  about nineteen is walking by doing something with
his cell phone. Cute face  with just the right amount of whiskers to look
hot, but still remain boyish  looking. Fairly short hair, dark-brown, and cut
right. He wears it in that  purposely messed-up look. Some guys are just
naturally cooler than the rest of  us. Unfortunately I don't react fast enough
to pull my bogus mistaken identity  bit on him. I'd love to talk with him
up close. Dammit, I'm horny. Walking  across the aisle, I lean my elbows on
the brass railing looking down at the  people on the first level. I do not
tilt my hand that's holding my coffee to  check my wristwatch. That's what
Harry Black did pouring his coffee on passers  by below. Ha ha, what a piece of
work he is. I wonder if Harry ever thinks  about sex? Maybe he does, then
gets frustrated he can't get any, and that's  why he gets drunk so much.
Anyway I'm feeling better now  myself.


Finished my iced coffee, I  look for leather bracelets in Macy's.
Everything is constantly on sale here,  which is probably bullshit. It's likely they
purposely mark the price higher  than they intend selling it for so they can
discount the items to the amount  they had in mind in the first place.
Still it feels better when you think  you're getting a bargain. Men's leather
bracelets have a wide range of prices  depending on how much silver there is
on the bracelet and the grade of  leather. Hell, some of them aren't even
made of leather. I look at twisted  leather ones with stainless steel clasps,
finally settling on double strand  dark-brown leather bracelets with, yep, a
stainless steel clasp. Plain, but  the kind most guys would wear, not all
jazzed up like some of the choices in  the display case. These are very much
like the one Willie bought for me, only  my clasp is silver. I can't tell the
difference. These are $49.99 each without  sales tax, and that's because
I'm in New Hampshire and not Taxachusetts. The  sales lady gifts wraps them in
small boxes at no extra charge, and off I  go.


Back at the apartment I  find Robby still sleeping and then Chubby comes
out of his bedroom shiny clean  and smiling at me. I love him so. Huh, as it
turns out I could have used the  Jeep. Chubby's giving me that
nice-to-see-you smile, asking, "What do you have  in the bag, bro?" I tell him about the
bracelets for Connor and Dodger. He  looks at me, then goes, "You are the
nicest person I know, Dylan. You're  awesome, I mean, that's so sweet." I ask,
"How about if I say these are from  you, me, and Robby?" He says, "No, you
deserve the thanks. It was your idea.  Dude, I love ya. See you at the condo,
Dylan." He's carrying a satchel with  some stuff he's taking home with him.
We hug and do a quick kiss on the lips,  then Chubby's on his way. Damn, he
smells good, and yes, he's sexy too. The  girls are damn lucky to have my
brother dating them. I wonder who called who  about the date tonight, Chubby
or Mary Jo? Could it be Chubby and I are both  equally oversexed, and if so,
did we get it from our dad? Huh, never thought  about that before, but
Chubby's turned into as big a horn job as me. On  different teams of course,
except once in a blue moon when the stars are  aligned just right our teams
come together for a brief moment in time and  that's awesome.

I've got two welcome-home  cards and I sign each card, 'We love you Army
guys, welcome home. From: 'The  roommates, Robby, Chubby, and Dylan'. They
should think of all of us when they  look at their bracelets. In the bedroom I
quietly put together the coolest  stuff I own for tonight's party, most of
it gifts from Willie. Damn, I've got  to call him to be sure he's okay. Then
I'm ready to go, but Robby's still  sleeping. For the next fifteen minutes I
talk with my mom on my cell phone  filling her in on my stuff I haven't
told her about yet. Things that happened  the first week back at college, and
then explain I'll have at least one  sleep over guest tonight. Mom's excited
about the Army boys being on leave  too, and says, "I can just imagine how
excited Dodger's mom is to see him, and  his dad too of course. It's just
that between moms and sons there's something  so special in that relationship,
and sweetheart I know we have it too." She  gets a little choked up, making
it awkward for me. Then mom gets excited all  over again and tells me about
a regular customer leaving her a three hundred  dollar tip for dinner. She
says, "He was at Rockingham Racetrack and won a big  race. He's such a doll."
Mom then talks about the 'doll' for five minutes and  then she gets a beep
on her phone meaning someone is calling her. She says,  "Dylan, honey, let
me get rid of this other call and I'll..." I interrupt.  "No, no, mom. Take
your call. It's probably Tris. I'll see you in a little  while anyway, we're
leaving soon." Mom takes a full minute saying goodbye, and  then we end the
call. I can't help but grin because mom's a talker and I'm not  a really
good small talk listener ... not yet I'm not.


Poking my head in the  bedroom again I see that Robby's awake now, grinning
back at me. "Come here,  boyfriend," so I go over and lean down for a kiss
and he pulls me on top of  him. We make-out for a few minutes, then Robby
says, "I'm gonna take my boner  into the bathroom with me, and take a shower.
I'll be quick. Could you make me  one of your fantastic fried egg
sandwiches?" I go, "Sure thing, boss," kissing  him again. Then I wander into the
kitchen as he goes into the bathroom.  Hopefully he's as happy as I am. We're
making some progress now towards  getting on our way back home, and I'm
anxious to get home all of a sudden. I'd  like to give my mom a kiss before she
leaves for work. But for now, no sense  starting Robby's fried egg sandwich
until I hear the shower turn off, so I'll  pour a big glass of orange juice
for him and keep it cold for him in the  refrigerator. I'll have a sandwich
too so I get out four eggs, four slices of  white bread, a sweet onion,
ketchup, and two slices of American cheese. That's  what goes into my breakfast
sandwiches. Sauté a little bit of thinly sliced  sweet onion, Vidalia onions
are the best, put the bread in the toaster and set  the dial for 'light'
toasting. When the toast pops up I spread the sautéed  onions on a slice of
toast for each sandwich, and put two more slices of bread  in the toaster. Then
I wipe out the frying pan and add butter, then crack the  eggs in the pan
and slowly fry then over easy, two for each sandwich. While  the four eggs are
slowly frying, a piece of American cheese goes on the onion  spread slices
of toast and into the microwave briefly to melt the cheese. Turn  the eggs
over and just before taking them out of the pan pierce the yolks so  it's
running all over the entire fried eggs. Two eggs on top of one another on  the
slices of bread with the melted cheese and spread on some ketchup. Lastly,
sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper and top with the other slice of
toast.  "Ready, Robby!" Simple!

Waiting for Robby I text  Cory quickly that we'll be over within the half
hour, and he texts back.  'You're awesome to do this, Dylan.' I nod my head,
thinking how it makes me  feel wonderful anytime I can brighten that kid's
life even a tiny bit. He  thinks I'm doing him a favor, but I actually think
I get more out of my  so-called favors than he does. I admire someone like
Cory too. He was man  enough to correct his own behavior, first admitting he
was  wrong and  then doing something about it. Cory was such a... well, such
a pain in the ass  when I first met him. He was really hard to take, but
something was there. I  didn't know what, but I thought, 'Let me try one more
time to get through to  him'. Actually I needed to think that thought a
couple of times, but I was  eventually right about him.  There was something
special within him and  he found it in himself and ran with it, finally turning
himself into this  sweet, good friend. If I helped him in any way to find
himself, good for me,  but I think it's benefited me as much as him. Now I've
got another really good  friend, plus the sense I tried doing something
good for someone. Robby comes  into the kitchen shirtless, breaking my train of
thought because now I'm  looking at his hot body. He gets his OJ from the
frig, muttering, "Thanks,  Dylan. This will hit the spot." I say, "There's
two more Tylenol on the  kitchen bar, you should take them with the OJ." He
does that as I'm cutting  the sandwiches in half.  We sit at the kitchen bar
eating our breakfast  sandwiches without conversation, just grins to each
other as we chew.  When we're finished, Robby says, "Great breakfast sandwich,
Dylan, thanks."  He's always polite. I've already gotten together the
clothes I wanna bring  with me so I have a cigarette on the balcony while Robby's
rustles up the few  things he's bringing home. Then at twelve-thirty we're
finally on our way,  with me driving. "How's the hangover, Robby?" He
mutters, "It's hanging in  there, but manageable now. The first time I got up I
considered blowing my  brains out, but the first two Tylenol and extra rest
helped some." I mutter,  "Don't even kid about blowing your brains out." He
lays his head back and  closes his eyes, muttering, "I love you too," as I
drive to  Cory's.


When I pull up to the curb  outside Cory's apartment building, naturally he
standing there. He came down  with his stuff to wait right after I texted
him.  There's a plastic bag  in his hand by his side and I know from
experience this is what Cory uses as  his suitcase or satchel, which I say nothing
about. Cory wouldn't consider  keeping us waiting for him, so instead he's
been standing here for thirty-five  minutes in case we came early.  Smiling
uncertainly, he gets in the front  as Robby slides over on the bench seat to
the middle. Robby and I do the best  we can shaking hands briefly with Cory,
then doing awkward hugs in the cab of  the pickup. Cory's so genuine, "This
is so nice of you guys, thanks for  thinking of me, really." I mutter, "No
problem, Cory, we're glad to have you  with us." He gets a little excited,
"Ya know, heh heh, the last party I was at  was my first real party. It was
the going away party for these two awesome  Army guys, of course. And now the
second party I've ever been invited to is  the welcome home party. Heh, heh,
that's me, mister popular." I ask, "You're  not friends with party animals
at Stop & Shop yet?" He goes, "No, not  really. I have sorta a friend from
high school, that car mechanic genius I  told you about. At Stop & Shop I'm
the part timers supervisor, and so I'm  kind of isolated from the part
timers. Then I'm not on the same shift as my  peers, the other part time
supervisors. It's okay though, I don't mind, I'm  fine. I'm kinda anxious to see
Connor again though." Robby sounds funny,  mumbling, "Yes, and I'm really
anxious to see brother too. I've missed Dodger  a lot." I glance at Robby and see
tears in his eyes. I thought he sounded a  little choked up." I quietly say,
"Lay your head back, Robby, get some more  rest." He nods his head and does
just that as I explain to Cory, "Our boy here  did a little too much
partying with his baseball teammates last night." Cory  looks at Robby, real
concerned," Oh, I hope you feel better, Robby. Anything I  can do?" Robby shakes
his head 'no' as I mutter, "Best if he sleeps a  bit."


No talking for the first  half of the trip, which takes only about a half
hour. The radio plays softly  at 92.5 on the FM dial as I drive down route
125 and connect with route 93  south, then 128 south. Robby's head lays back
on the seat, his eyes closed.  Cory and I exchange a few grins, with Cory
nodding at Robby while putting his  finger to his lips, as in, 'Shhh,' being
considerate of our hung over  companion. I nod at Cory smiling, then reach
across Robby with my hand for  Cory to quietly slap, acknowledging we should
let Robby rest. After the slap,  Cory holds my hand for a second before
letting it go. During the second  half-hour of our trip home Robby seems to
recover a little. He says, "That  sandwich hit the spot, Dylan. I can imagine it
soaking up the alcohol in my  system." I ask, "Did you drink hard liquor last
night?" He mumbles, "There  were some shots toasting the team, yeah. Stupid
I know, but when you're with a  bunch of guys there's peer pressure, you
know?" I nod my head hoping to hear  more about the party, but Robby lays his
head back against the seat again,  without closing his eyes this time. Cory
talks about what's been going on  recently at Stop & Shop, bringing me up to
date a little, with Robby  chuckling at some of the oddities that happen on
the job. Less than a half  hour later I'm pulling into the Dicker's
driveway. Robby's resting again,  "We're here, Robby." He opens, then blinks his
eyes a few times looking  around, then mutters, "I wonder where everyone is?"
Then Dodger and Connor  come running out of the house, and Robby anxiously
says, "Hop out, Cory,"  trying not to sound as excited as I know he is. I
stare out the windshield at  the two Army boys, just now realizing the extent
of how much I've missed them,  and my eyes tear up. Cory shakes hands with,
and then hugs Conner as Robby and  Dodger hug, then kiss. Still hugging
Dodger, Robby's running his hand all over  his brothers head and
sandpaper-feeling hair of the basic training  induction cut. I didn't know they kept giving
the same severe haircut all the  way through basic training. Stupid! Both
brothers are laughing with tears  running down their faces as I sit frozen in
the front seat of the pickup. It's  obviously and understandably emotional
for them both. Then for a second I  imagine how I'd feel seeing Chubby if
he'd been away for eleven weeks, and I  need to wipe my eyes. Not wanting to
get in the way of the brothers greeting,  or Connor and Cory's, I stay right
here in the pickup's driver's seat. All the  hugging, smiles and tears seem
so sweet to me. Ha ha, shy Connor and Cory  initially drifted towards one
another, kindred spirits probably feeling more  comfortable with one another
than they would with most, understanding each  other's shyness, then they
awkwardly embraced. The other extreme being Dodger  and Robby's initial reaction
to one another where they threw themselves at  each other.


Both Dodger and Robby are now wiping  their eyes with the palms of their
hands like little kids. They're talking  excitedly with each other and I wish
I could fade further into the background  feeling a little like the third
wheel. There's no place to hide though so I  sit here feeling uncomfortable,
like I don't belong. Then Dodger looks over,  his eyes open wide as he
notices me in the pickup. With a big grin on his face  he climbs into the truck,
asking, "What the fuck ya doing in here, Dylan?" He  hugs me tightly and
presses the side of his face to mine as I hug back, not  sure what to say.
Dodger sways us as we hug, murmuring, "You trying to  hide from me in here,
dude, my favorite friend ever is hiding from  me?"  I shake my head, trying to
mumble,  "I didn't want to get in the way," but Dodger talks over me, "The
fucking sun  was shining off the side window so I couldn't see you in here. I
thought Robby  drove." I'm choked up myself now as Dodger kisses me on the
lips, maybe a wee  bit too long, making my face turn red as I look out the
window at the grinning  faces of Cory, Connor, and Robby. Connor gives me a
little wave of his hand  without moving his arm. Oh God, this is so fucking
sweet! Dodger says, "Get  the fuck out of this truck, Dylan, so I can hug you
properly." He slides over  pulling me with him by my hand. We stumble out
the passenger door and he gives  me another hug lifting my feet off the ground
a little this time, as he says  to Robby, "Dylan isn't used to the Dickers'
show of affection when one of us  returns after being away." And Robby
says, "Yeah, he's seen it before,"  meaning his and my rare reunions when we've
been apart for a week or so.


Robby's parent's come out  now and make a big fuss over Robby, then give me
an awkward hug too. I can  only imagine the reception Dodger got from his
parents yesterday at the  airport. Bet it embarrassed him, or maybe not. This
is a very close knit  family so maybe displays of affection are routine for
them. Dodger lets go of  me and joins the family group-hug. Seeing his
opening, Connor shyly walks over  to stand in front of me while Cory's staring
at the Dicker's family, probably  thinking, 'Oh, so this is how a normal
family reacts at reunions,' and maybe  Connor had that same thought. As for now,
Connor is staring at me as he  blushes and twists his hands together
nervously. He mutters, "Um, hi, Dylan. I  missed you." I step over to him smiling
a big smile, and then hug him. His  arms come around me hugging me with str
onger arms than I remember him having.  He buries his face against my neck
and I give him an extra tight hug and feel  his warm tears, as I say, "How
awesome to see you again, Connor. How'd the  Army treat you, dude?" He hugs
tightly rubbing his face against my shoulder  now, dampening my shirt with his
tears. I'm rubbing his back until he lets go  of me and backs away wiping
his eyes, mumbling, "It was good, the Army's good,  Dylan, thanks for asking."
I put my arm across his shoulders giving them  another hug, mumbling,
"That's great, I'm glad." He nods his head, so I go,  "Um, Dodger treat you
okay?" He shrugs, "Yeah, what can I say about him? He's  always, um, a huge help.
Maybe it's corny, but Dodger's bigger than life and I  came to see him as
the big brother, the one I never had. I love him like a  brother too. We're
tight and I thanked God every night in my bunk for putting  Dodger in my
life. Um, Dodger and you, if there is a God, that is." I mumble,  "Yeah, assume
there's a God, what have you got to lose." He chuckles, "Yeah,  how you
been?" I shrug, "Except for missing you and Dodger, things in my life  have been
generally awesome." he goes, "I'm glad," and Cory breaks in, asking,  "Mind
if I join you guys?" Surprisingly Connor puts his arm across Cory's
shoulder and gives him a hug, saying, "Of course you can join us, Cory. It's
great to see you." Apparently some of Dodger has worn off on Connor, he never
would have made a confident move like that before he went in the  Army.

Conner tells me, "Cory and  I have had some really intense emails, and some
of them contained some fucking  funny shit too. Cory's got a hidden side."
Cory blushes, as I'm thinking,  'Fucking funny shit'? That doesn't sound
like Connor. Ha ha, corrupted by Army  life I guess, or by Dodger... probably a
little of both. Mr. and Mrs. Dickers  are on their way to pick up something
for the cookout so we give them a wave  goodbye. I feel good for them
because it's an especially nice September day  for a cookout, and nothing can
fuck up a picnic like bad weather. Plus their  beloved Dodger is here for
awhile. After they drive off the five of us guys go  into the pool house for a
beer and to quiz the Army boys on basic training. As  we're drinking the beer,
without thinking, I take my pack of Marlboro out and  Connor does a subtle
shake of his head, glancing at Cory. Oh yeah, no smoking  around Cory so I
slip the pack back in my pocket. Nice to see Connor looking  out for Cory.
We're drinking beers from a six pack Dodger cleverly stashed out  here
expecting Robby and me, and wanting a little reunion before the one  that's
happening tonight. Robby looks at me making a face and holding the beer  up, then
he grins as he gags the beer down, making me laugh. I explain to  Dodger and
Connor, "One of us tied a load on last night and his beer's going  down like
shredded glass," and Dodger says, "Ha, Connor and me tied a pretty  good
one on last night ourselves, but I'm not having and problem drinking this
beer." I ask, "Speaking of last night, how's Vinnie?" Connor and Dodger look
at each other chuckling, then Dodger says, "Vinnie's good! Huh, Connor?"
Connor blushes for some reason, muttering, "Uh huh, Vinnie's awesome." I'm not
sure what they're referring to or chuckling about, and I don't think I want
to  find out. We go back to asking the two Army boys about life in the
Army,  asking them obvious questions like: how's the food? What time did they
get you  up each morning? How often do you have to get those awful induction
haircut?  What was you drill instructor like? How far did you run every day?
Etc. etc.  The boys give funny answers with Connor chipping in with his own
quips and I  marvel at the positive change I see in him already. It makes me
feel good and  I glance at Dodger, giving him a lot of the credit. We've
finished our can of  beer when Robby says, "It's great having you guys back
for a couple weeks,  I'll catch up with you some more later, but dad wants me
to get some stuff  downtown for tonight's party. I know you want to get
home, Dylan, and say 'Hi'  to your mom. You can either borrow Dodger's or my
pickup. Dodger says, "I'll  take care of my boy, Dylan, bro."  I nod, "Thanks,
Dodger." Robby looks  at Connor and Cory, asking, "Can one of you guy's give
me a hand?" They both  say, "Sure!" Dodger hooks a finger in the waistband
of my jeans, saying, "Lets  go, Dylan."


With his finger in my pants  he's literally pulling me to his pick up,
Dodger then gives my ass a slap,  saying, "Get your hot ass in the truck,
Dylan." I get in thinking how Dodger's  always been a confident hot shit. He gets
in the driver's side, smirking at  me, asking, "Miss me much?" I go, "Nah,
not much," and he starts the pickup  looking at me, muttering, "Liar." He
backs out of the drive, with me asking,  "Seriously, what's it like being
home?" Dodger leaves a little tire squeal  behind as he steps on the gas heading
for route 9, saying, "Honestly? It's was  a little surreal yesterday, but by
this morning it's like I never left. The  initial shock of being able to do
what I want without getting permission was  like a slap in the face, one
that wakes you up. After that I adjusted to the  real world pretty quickly." I
ask, "How about Connor, how'd he react?" Dodger  glances at me, "Connor? I
love that kid, he's real, he's a golden child. Yeah,  Connor's gold and I
thought he was before, but I didn't really know for sure,  ya know. I just
knew he was a friend of yours. But I quickly discovered what a  conscientious
sweet kid he is, and I mean all the time. He's got one demeanor  and it's
constant, and there isn't a phony bone in his body. Plus, right off  he helped
me deal with the ridiculous authority figures involved in Army life.
Everyone is an authority figure to us recruits. Initially I wasn't too keen  about
us recruits being considered lower than whale shit. Connor was a calming
influence in more ways than one. He'd talk me down off the ledge, and at the
same I time I felt this sense of responsibility in him. He's kinda  naively
innocent and he'd be the perfect foil for bullying. I wasn't gonna let
that happen, and I didn't let it happen. So I had a motive not to go off and
blow my top at the ridiculous clowns some of the sergeants are. Connor and I
adapted pretty fast and soon we were accepting everything, all the
bullshit they threw, as funny. We made fun of it between the two of us, not  taking
any of the nonsense personally, and we had some belly laughs about it  too.
If you have the right attitude and act obsequious to the numb nut drill
sergeants, it's all cool. "Did ya get in many fights, Dodger?" He goes,  "Just
two. Both the first week and then that was it. Connor jumped in on both
fights I was in. Oh, by the way, I only started the first fight. Connor jumps
right into it and ya know, the fights probably were the reason the two of
us  bonded so quickly. It got so everyone in the barracks knew not to pull
any  shit on Connor or me because otherwise they'd need to deal with both of
us.  Mostly it was cool in our barracks though. Mostly fairly good guys and
the  asshole's stayed to themselves. There was zero problem after that first
adjustment period." That makes me think of Chubby and me in middle school
where, if you fucked with one of us, you fucked with both. Same deal Dodger
and Connor worked out.


He pulls onto route nine,  saying, "This isn't a fucking news flash, but
some of those sergeants are  stupid, and I mean, like duh. Half the guys in
our barracks too, many didn't  finish high school, like me. The difference is
I'm not dumb, so that's where I  had a huge advantage. Plus, my awesome
personality too, ya know?" I go, "Um,  no, I didn't know you had a good
personality." He chuckles, muttering, "Fuck  you." I ask, "You used to the induction
haircut look yet?" He mutters, "Fuck  no, but Vinnie wants you to do the
head shave for him." I shrug, "Nah, I won't  do it. Your head's not shaved
anyway. They used a number 1 clipper blade.  Shaved is the 00 blade. Hey,
Vinnie came over for a haircut finally, did he  tell you?" Dodger laughs, "Yeah,
he told me about it. God, I almost peed my  pants laughing about his sincere
description of how it went. You're such a  good guy to let him fuck you. He
thought that's what he was supposed to do.  You know, like I do." I say, "I
felt bad for Vinnie, it's like he's lost  without you. But, you know that
thing's have changed since Robby proposed to  me. Mostly random side-sex is a
thing of the past now for us. Mostly." He  looks over, rolling his eyes,
but doesn't say anything. We're quiet for a  minute, then to break the
silence, I ask, "What were you and Conner laughing  about when I asked how Vinnie
was during last night's reunion?" Like it's  nothing new, Dodger goes, "Oh,
it was just the threesome we got into. All of  us smoking, of course. Heh
heh, Conner and me took turns fucking Vinnie for  about ten minutes straight.
It got really funny because Vinnie was so horny he  kept cumming. Jesus! It
was a real good night though. Nice time with my  druggie crowds too, before
we ditched them to have our threesome. Those  asshole are a wild bunch." I
go, "Connor and Vinnie fit in okay with the  stoners?" He says, "Yeah, those
drop outs wouldn't mess with my friends. We  did some weed with them, but
passed on the harder stuff. Ya know, I'm  rethinking those guys. To be honest
they didn't seem as cool to me as I  remembered. They seemed, um, more like
they're lost as in losers, than cool. I  have a different perspective now,
seeing life a little more seriously. We did  some drinking with them too
though, and then our private threesome. Oh shit,  it was a good time last night!"


Dodger doesn't park at the  curb below my condo, he goes around back.
"How'd you remember how to get back  here?" He gives me a questioning 'look',
then goes, "Duh, dude, I was back  here before. I've only been away eleven
weeks, ya know." He parks with me  staring at him, feeling some heat for his
sexy body. He's slightly taller than  me now, as I mentioned, and his body
looks tighter than ever. He had a swimmer  physique before the Army, but it's
even hotter now. I guess it should be after  six weeks of basic training and
all the shit they put you through. He looks  over seeing me staring at him,
and grins a mischievous grin. I do a fake  cough, then says, "Um, well,
thanks, Dodger. For the ride home, I mean. I  appreciate it... see you tonight, I
guess."  He chuckles, "Fuck  appreciating it! I'm coming in. Ya got any
beer?" I look up at the condo  through the balcony's sliding glass door, not
seeing any motion. Mom probably  left for work. Looking back at Dodger, I go,
"Sure, come on in, but I don't  have any beer." We get out and go in through
the back door to the finished  basement. Dodger mutters, "Wish I needed a
haircut. Those were some hot  times!" I nod, "Uh huh," then ask, "Do you get
a rush from your haircut fetish  when getting the induction haircuts every
week?" He shakes his head, "No, it's  strange, but it doesn't affect me for
some reason. I was thinking about that,  looking forward to the haircuts, but
nothing. I don't know why." I mutter,  "Fetishes are unpredictable." He
goes, "Ya think?" and he lights a cigarette.  I yell, "Not inside, Dodger," and
he says, "Hook up that fucking exhaust fan  we used last time. You know,
the last haircut I got here with Vinnie before I  abruptly enlisted." I ask
right out, "Why did you enlist?" He holds the filter  of his cigarette towards
me so I take a drag as he says, "That's what I'm  going to tell you about
his afternoon, plus something wicked important that  you need to fucking
know. That's why we need a fucking beer, you beautiful  thing. How about Chubby,
any beer in his place?" I'm still shocked he came  right out and said he's
gonna tell me the big mystery of why he enlisted, so  I'm looking at him
blankly. He snaps his fingers, and with a grin on his face,  he says, "Hello,
earth to Dylan, doe's your brother have any beer in his  place?" I go,
"Wha..? Um, yeah, probably. His mom usually has some on hand.'  He squeezes my
checks together with the hand holding his cigarette between his  index and
middle fingers. The smoke drifts up into my eyes, as he says, "The  beer, dude."
I've got that sexy squirmy feeling big time, so I do a fake  cough, and he
laughs saying, "Earth to major Tom, er Dylan, how about checking  to see if
there's a couple of beers up there. What's wrong with you  today?"


Dodger pulls the barber  stool over and sits on it, exhaling a long stream
of cigarette smoke looking  at me cutely. He's so fucking hot. I mutter,
"Goddamn you, Dodger, there's no  smoking inside," as I get the big fan out and
point it out the back door, then  opening the door a few inches. He smirks,
"Turn the fucking thing on," and I  do, then watch his exhaled smoke being
sucked in by the fan. Dodger says,  "Beer, we need a couple of beers, you
awesome person!" I go, "Yeah, I'll  check," and adjust my junk as I start up
the steps. He jumps off the stool,  "I'm going to take a piss. See if you can
get at least two each," Everything  he does is with lots of energy, he's
fascinating to watch. Never dull or  boring and always seemingly sure of
himself. What a character! Up I go and in  the living room I call, "Mom, you
still here?" No answer so I look on the  little kitchen cork board where we
leave messages and there's a note from mom.  'Welcome home, darling! Seems like
longer than a week you've been away. I got  called in early to cover for
someone who's ill. Looking forward to tomorrow's  brunch. See if Robby and
Dodger can come along with your sleep over guest. Is  it Cory? Love, mom.' Sweet
that she left me a note, but I'm sorry I didn't get  home in time to see
her. Up to Chubby's condo I go, letting myself in with the  cleverly hidden
extra key in the mailbox next to the front door. No burglar  would ever think
to look there. I get four bottles of Bud, leave an IOU for  four bottles of
beer, lock the front door, and head back down the steps trying  to guess
what Dodger's going to tell me.


Dodger's back on the stool,  still smoking. I hand him a beer, he twist off
the cap, "Ah, my favorite sexy  friend, and he found some beers for us
too... good." He takes a gulp of beer,  looks at the bottle, and goes, "Ah ha,
regular beer, nice. We drank lite beer  every Sunday at the PX while playing
liars poker. Same five guys every Sunday.  Something we looked forward to
all week. You know, you can get just as drunk  on lite beer as regular beer.
It just takes longer." I twist the cap off mine,  asking, "Why'd you join the
Army?" He says, "Before I tell you that, and the  other more important
thing, we're gonna drink a couple of beer's while you  tell me what I've missed
here around town. You know, from the time of my  enlistment until now." I
nod my head as Dodger looks at me with his  mischievous grin, adding, "Oh, and
then when we're reacquainted and feeling  really comfortable with one
another again, I'm going to fuck you." I go, "No,  it's dif..." and he says,
"Shut up about different. You and me go way back.  Remember that first time? The
time I shocked you by fucking you in the pool  before you had a clue I was
gay? Oh man, that was so fucking cool! Hot too! Ha  ha. You tried to get
away, but not real hard if I recall, and anyway you're no  match for me in the
water. When I pulled your bathing suit down and mounted  you I would have
loved to have seen the expression on your face! That's still  among the top
five most favorite sex acts I've ever done." I ask, "What are  your other
four?" He mumbles, "Too personal for now, Dylan, but I'll tell you  some day.
Now what's been happening around here?"


It's easier to just go  along with Dodger. You might as well because he's
gonna have his way in the  end anyway, plus my dick quivered when he said
he's going to fuck me and I  don't want to ruin the mood for that. Be still my
heart, and all that, but I  sincerely didn't expect Dodger would want to
have sex with me the first day  he's back. Or any time in the next two weeks. I
thought between him and Robby  having a reunion-screw or two or three, and
him and Vinnie fucking all over  Framingham, he wouldn't have a chance to
think of me. I was obviously wrong,  so I sit back on the chaise lounge and
begin telling what's been going on from  the beginning of the summer. I tell
him about all the personnel changes Robby  had to make on the crew during the
first month, and the ramifications of that.  Then something about each new
hire, as Dodger nods his head, but says nothing.  He gets off the stool and
comes over to lay next to me on the chaise  lounge, both of us in a sitting
position, our legs stretched out in front of  us, our sides touching. We're
in this sitting position so we can drink our  beers. Soon we're both smoking
too, with an ashtray between us. I talk on and  on without looking at
Dodger, staring straight ahead. He's not saying much,  just a question every now
and then. I work my way through all the whole posse  boys stuff, the Sunday
baseball games Robby played in, and Ray's bizarreness.  The sex was
inferred, but not elaborated on at all. My trip to New York city  interested him,
and as I went on and on I ended telling him much more than I  intended to. He
goes, "Ballsy trip you crazy and wild  dude."


All four beers are gone by the time I  finish telling him whatever came to
mind, finally basically just running out  of words. Dodger's absently
running his fingers through my hair for a few  minutes, then he says, "You didn't
tell me about this fucked-up haircut," so I  say, "Well, it just happened a
couple of days ago. Ryan, the kid we lift  weights with, and who got his
brains scrambled last summer," and I tell him  about the haircut screw up.
Dodger nods his head, takes a deep breath, then  says, "Thanks, Dylan. Shit, I
missed a lot and you left out most of the sexy  stuff too. It'd just make me
jealous anyway, but you've been a busy guy, huh?  So you and Robby are
cutting down side-sex? Good luck with that. Guess it'll  help that I'm not gonna
be around. That will help both of you." Lifting off  the back rest, Dodger
partially faces me, reaching down to take hold of the  bottom of my
sweatshirt with both hands, mumbling, "Put your arms up," and  when I do he pulls the
sweatshirt over my head, and goes, "Wow, that's cool,  Dylan!" meaning the
nip ring. I go, "Yeah, I told you about that." He flicks  it, muttering,
"Yeah, but seeing it in person, it's awesomely sexy. You're so  fucking cool,
and you always have been the coolest fucking guy in Framingham,  or maybe
anywhere." I make a face at him, like, 'Get real!'



Ignoring that, he gropes my crotch while staring into my eyes. It's  almost
like he's daring me to object. When he sees I'm not objecting, he  unsnaps
my jeans, muttering, "Get these off, will ya?" Dodger just assumes  he's
going to fuck me, and more than that he knows I want him to too. He's  always
known, but I've never known how he knows. Maybe I'll ask him some time.  He
lights a cigarette and holds it between his teeth as he slides his hand
along my bare stomach, and then under the waistband of my underwear. Jockey
shorts today, I switch off for no special reason, sometimes wearing boxer
shorts, sometimes jockey shorts. Whatever's clean usually decides what I put
on. He takes my cock in his fist, blows three smoke rings that circle my
head, then he says, "I knew your awesome cock would be hard." My eyes open
wide... I've got a boner?  Because it happened so gradually I didn't even
realize I was hard, but that's not accurate either. I've been feeling good  down
there for a while now. It's Dodger's scent and the confident, offhand way
he does everything. It's much different than Robby's manner, although
Dodger's  scent is like Robby's, but with a twist. I can't describe the twist,
can't  verbalize it. It's something, but I don't know what. He puts his now wet
filtered cigarette between my lips and, leaning sideways, he gets his other
 hand inside the waistband at the back, and his hand slides under my butt
cheek. He looks at me, leans forward and licks across my lips, then kisses
my  lips while squeezing my bare buttocks getting my cock harder. He strokes
the  foreskin on and off the head of my boner, muttering, "Would you light
me a  cigarette, Dylan." He asked that in his boyish voice that sounds like
Robby's,  only it sounds more like a command that a request when Dodger says
anything.  He grins at me and leans over to suck on the side of my lips, the
side away  from the cigarette hanging out the corner of my mouth, the smoke
drifting  up and burning my eyes. Pulling his head away, he looks seriously
at me, like  he's memorizing how I look, all the time stroking my cock and
now from his  other hand the tip of a finger is inside the lips of my ass,
as he says again,  "Cigarette, Dylan, please?" I inhale off his old one and
pick up his pack  that's between us to take one out. He grins at me, raising
his eyebrows, as he  pushes his finger two more inches up my ass. I moan
lifting my ass off the  sofa, "Oooh, Dodger." He goes, "Cigarette, please." I
nod my head trying to  get a cigarette out of the pack, as he asks me, "You
do remember Vinnie and I  like to smoke during sex, right?" I nod my head as
his finger goes the rest of  the way up my ass, "Mmmm, oooh, Dodger, um,
um." I pull a cigarette out of the  pack and light it off the one between my
teeth, grunting and squirming on the  couch or chaise lounge, or sofa, or
whatever the fuck it's called. My brain's  getting rattled, but in a nice sexy
way.


Dodger smiles at me around the cigarette between his sexy lips, asking,
"Feel good, does it? Nobody is as hot as you, Dylan, nobody! You get me
cranked-up like no one I've ever known." He drags on his cigarette exhaling
through his nose and mouth while slowly finger fucking and jerking me off at
the same time. He goes, "There are like a thousand recruits at basic training
and sometimes our platoon would be marching and have to halt while long
columns would marched in front of us. I'd look at every face and not one, not
a single one ever came close to the cuteness, the beauty of your face.
That's  something, huh? I knew no one would be as cute and sexy as you, but I
checked  for the hell of it. Heh heh, there were some cute guys though." I
squirm  against him, and moan, "Uh huh, oooh, ooh." He pulls his finger out of
my ass,  then pushes it right back up my ass grinning at me as he exhales a
long stream  of smoke. Then he chuckles, and says, "I'm giving up cigarettes
when I get out  of the Army. How about you?" My hips hump up and a spurt of
cum, or maybe  precum, plops out from my boner onto the front of jockey
shorts as my  shoulders shudder, and I moan, "Ummmm, oooh, god, mmm." His
finger comes out  of my ass, and he holds it away from his nose using two clean
fingers to take  his cigarette from his lips, and says, "You're especially
horny, huh, Dylan?  Why's that?" Pulling my cigarette from my lips and holding
it away from us, I  take a deep breath, than mutter, "It's that I've cut
back on side-sex, like I  told ya, and lets face it, Dodger, you've always
been a big turn on for me."  He nods his head, "Yeah, I know," and his
cigarette tasting tongue slides  against my cigarette tasting tongue canceling out
the unpleasant taste for  both of us. It wouldn't work if only one of us was
smoking. His lips caress  mine in an especially sexy manner as our noses rub
together. Everything he  does seems different than I remember from before.
Holding the finger that was  up my ass out and away from the others, he rubs
his clean fingers up the back  of my head as he leans over, partially
laying on me rubbing his chest against  mine. His silky t-shirt feels cool
against my bare skin as smoke from his  cigarette burns my eyes. His hand pulls
off my hard boner and drags wetly up  my stomach, leaving a precum trail
behind on it's way up to my nipple where he  gently rubs my nip ring getting my
nipple vibrating and hard, feeling sexy. I  can hardly breath with Dodger's
face against mine, his tongue in my mouth, and  his torso moving on mine. Oh,
oh, but this feels great, the hell with  breathing. My arm is around his
neck, my other arm away from us holding what's  left of his first cigarette.
That hand I hold out away from the chaise lounge,  with me trying to inhale
Dodger's scent through the cigarette smoke that's  drifting around us. I
squirm under him feeing wonderful and awesomely sexually  stimulated. The recent
absence of that sensation making it all the hotter  now.


Dodger slides the side of his face next to the side of mine, as he  quietly
moans in sexual arousal and desire, "Oooh, mmm." He takes my cigarette
butt from my fingers, and breathlessly mutters in my ear, "Put my cock in your
mouth, Dylan, please. Take pity on a needy American soldier." He's pushing
down behind my head guiding it towards his cock. Without resisting, I
rustle  down the sofa towards his crotch while Dodger crushes the two cigarette
butts  in the ashtray. Pulling his fly down and then unbuttoning his khaki
pants, I  hear him light another cigarette. While exhaling, he says, "Take 'em
all the  way off. My underwear too." A puff of exhaled smoke drifts down as
I struggle  to get his pants off over his sneakers, then his boxer shorts.
And now I  gawk at his semi-hard cock looking exactly like Robby's. Fat like
a fire plug  with a nice, especially fat helmet head that's wet. Leaning
down I take it in  my mouth and Dodger sighs, then lays back bringing his legs
up, his knees in  the air. I massage his big nuts gently as I suck on his
cock feeling my cock  tightening up even further, and then it moves away from
my belly to stick  straight out tight and feeling oh so good. Dodger's
scent is strong in his  crotch area, especially with my nose  buried in the dark
pubic hairs  above his cock. My hands rub his belly feeling the six pack
abs he's  developed. Hard tight sexy body, lean and tall now. When a long
drool of  precum covers my tongue with Dodger groaning and squirming on the
sofa, I take  his fat boner our of my mouth, suck off the precum, then lick his
nuts.  Lifting his nuts with my fingers, Dodger brings his ass up off the
sofa, and  my tongue runs up the ass crack between his pink, almost hairless
butt cheeks.  I squeeze both butt cheeks, and wow, they're firm and nicely
shaped so I lick  both of them, then give them sloppy kisses. A real hot ass
on Dodger to go  with everything else that's sexy and hot about him. And then
a nice surprise  as I notice Dodger's come a long way with his asshole
hygiene. There's no  acrid taste of shit remnants. Nice going, Dodger, you're
growing  up.


After rimming his ass for only about a minutes Dodger lifts his legs  and
rolls to the side gasping, then sputtering, "Jesus, Dylan, I almost blew  my
load. God almighty, that's sexy!" He chuckles, muttering, "That was fucking
awesome." He rolls on his back again holding his wet cigarette filter
towards  me, saying, "Finish this fucking thing for me, okay?" I take it needing
a drag  by now. Dodger lights another one, then says, "Fun, huh? Okay, get
up here and  sit on my cock so I can look at you while I'm fucking you, you
beautiful  college student." I walk up on my knees,  past his long legs, a
knee on  either side of his legs, and when my ass is over his hard cock. I
look back  and see it's sticking straight up from his belly drooling precum,
like mine. I  blow a long exhale of smoke at Dodger's head. He grins,
pretending to inhale  it, and he actually does get some in his lungs to exhale
through his nose. He  grins, asking, "What are you waiting for?" I reach behind
me and get his boner  between two fingers guiding it under my asshole, and
then slowly sit on it. It  spreads my anus's lips, and I groan, "Aaaah, ow,"
as Dodger's face scrunches  up a little, with him muttering, "Easy." Sitting
down a little more and the  fat head forces it's way past my sphincter with
me grunting at the pain, and  then there's a shiver's going up my back as my
shoulders shudder nicely.  Dodger licks his lips, takes a drag off his
cigarette, and as he exhales the  smoke he humps his hips up forcing his cock
two inches up my ass and I groan  louder, leaning forwards, than awkwardly sit
the rest of the way down on it,  not meaning to. A  spike of pain in my
rectum makes me jerk up pulling  partially off his cock. Dodger goes, "Take it
easy, Dylan, let your ass get  used to it," as if I'm new at this. We both
take a drag, then I blurt out a  laugh, mumbling, "I've done this before." He
laughs, then quietly  sarcastically says, "Don't be scared, I'll be gentle
with you," and I plop  down on his thighs, muttering, "Oh, thank you, you're
so kind."


Already this feels so good I get more shivers, sexy shivers, and  another
little shoulder shudder, so I say, "Feels real good, Dodger. Awesome  cock,"
and he says, "Oh, that little thing." He's never been the least bit  self
conscious about having a four inch cock while Robby's said from time to  time
he wished he had a bigger one. Not Dodger, he's proud of his cock.  Exhaling
smoke, then passing his secondhand one to me again, he takes the  first
secondhand cigarette from between my lips, as he mutters, "Finish this  other
cigarette for me now." I take a drag, asking, "What the fuck's with  these
secondhand cigarettes?" He goes, "Hey, I got third-hand pickup trucks  passed
down to me, didn't I?" as if that explains the secondhand cigarettes.  He
makes me laugh at the way he says things like he's serious when he knows  very
well he's talking nonsense. I grin, mumbling, "Oh, that explains it  then."
I lift off his boner slowly and sit back down on it, shivering at the
sensations in my rectum as my boner, about as hard as it can get, barely moves
sticking straight out of me as I go up and down on his hard fat cock a half
dozen times, "Mmmm, oooh, damn," grunts Dodger. I lean forward with a hand
on  either side of his shoulders and Dodger begins humping his hips up,
fucking my  ass. Right away all the familiar sexual vibrations and sensations
from my anus  and prostate have me clenching my mouth shut while moaning
sounds of sexual  pleasure escape from my throats. "Mmmm, uuuum, ooh, ooh, ooh
,ooh, ahh,  Dodger, aah, aah, aah." Quiet slapping sounds of male fucking do a
duet with  my short moans at every penetration, "Slap, slap, slap, slap,"
goes Dodgers  groin smacking hard against my ass as his face turns red from
the effort of  driving his hard organ inside my rectum.


My head drops to his chest, my forehead sliding on his breastbone with
each hump of his hips as I drop the secondhand cigarette in the bouncing
ashtray next to Dodger. Dodger groans, "Ooooh, fuccck, um, um, um," as "Slap,
slap, slap," sounds quicken and now my head's a confusing blur of  sexual
sensations clogging my brain, everything combining into a crescendo of  intense
pleasure bordering on pain, my body's stiff and tingling all over. Our
grunts and moans of pleasure with the constant, "slap,  slap, slap, slapping,"
sounds until I'm dizzy with sexual pleasure and barely  know where I am, but
not caring.  And then it's all over me... a split  second of silence before a
piercing squeal, "Eeeee, eeee!" and my violent hip  thrust produces cum
that's pumped out from the steel pipe attached at  my groin. The first shot of
cum splatters under Dodger's  chin, on his throat mostly, followed by three
streaks of cum that are lighter  than the first and able to shoot a little
higher hitting under Dodger's nose  and finally a stream hits him right on
his lips. His heads moving from side to  side on the chaise lounge as his
crotch humps his boner up my ass and then  Dodger lets out a desperate sounding
moan, "Ummm, oooh, aaah!" and his body gets stiff as a board and I feel
something like a  pencil poke the walls of my bowels as his hard stream of cum
creates a warm,  wet feeling inside me. Cum drools out my ass as he pumps
more in with both his  forearm pressing down at the back of my neck squishing
my face to his chest,  making sure I don't go anywhere I guess.  "Slap, slap,
slap, slap," wet  slapping sounds now and it's a fantastic ride, one that's
 way too short, but such a nice feeling now as swirling sensations caress
and  tease the sensitive points in my body before bidding ado and leaving me
with a  glowing, relaxed, limp body. Dodger's thrusting slows down as he
relaxes his  hold on me and then drops his ass flat on the lounge, his now
flaccid cock  pulling from my ass as I do a quiet  "Oooh, mmm,  ooh."


Pushing my legs out behind me I lay stretched out on Dodger's body,  chest
to chest. One of Dodger's arm lays across my back. He's breathing  deeply,
his other arm out to the side, the cigarette between his fingers with  the
inch long gray ash threatening to drop to the carpet below. It's nice  laying
on Dodger's body, but I wish he'd taken his silky t-shirt off so we'd  be
flesh to flesh from head to toe. His limp cock is squished between us wet  and
sticky, as is mine. A minute of deep breathing, then Dodger rubs my hair,
muttering, "Get up, Dylan, okay? Let's talk."


to be continued...    Donny  Mumford   thinat20@yahoo.com


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


I have had two books published that are available on  Amazon that maybe you
would like to order and read. Actually one  book and one short story. The
short story is titled "Concealed Agony -  Gay Romance" (and I didn't pick
that title.) Read this short story first.  And the book is named "Oliver's
Wildwood Vacation" They are  both about 'Oliver'.  You can easily find them by
searching for  'Donny Mumford' at the Amazon web site.


And I would appreciate it if you would  provide a comment at the site for
the stories as well.

Thanks.

Donny Mumford


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