Date: Wed, 13 Aug 2014 12:08:30 -0400 (EDT) From: MGTBILL@aol.com Subject: DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO Chapter 93 DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION TWO Chapter 93 by Donny Mumford Chubby and I surprised Robby by visiting him at the hospital an hour ago. We found out he'll be coming home tomorrow, but I'm still glad we made the trip to Worcester. We had a nice visit until we eventually got kicked out for over staying our visitor's pass. After that we drove directly to our condos and now we've just split up for the night. Chubby to get ready for his Saturday night date with Mary Jo and me to wait in my condo for Devon. He wants a haircut and I'm guessing he also wants to try sex again. That's just an educated guess on my part, but he does seem to like fucking me doggie style and I'm cool with that. One time we had sex while I sat on his lap facing him, but mostly it's doggie style. I was kinda surprised we had sex together of any kind, and maybe even more surprising is his propensity for making-out. A straight or bisexual guy might try something 'gay' out of curiosity, usually after he's had too much to drink, but almost always without making-out. Not with Devon though, he's a good make-out. He's having sex with Annie too so I've come to the obvious conclusion he's bisexual. If he had sex with me just the one time and that was all there was to it I wouldn't say he's necessarily bisexual. In that case he'd be just a curious straight guy, but Devon came back for more. As far as us two having sex tonight goes, I can take it or leave it. I wouldn't mind it and why would I, he's cute and sexy. On the other hand, Willie fucked me four times between last night and early this morning so if I'm wrong and Devon isn't interested in sex tonight, that's okay too. In either case I'll shampoo and cut his hair, with a little massaging thrown in, and those are all things I enjoy doing for cute young guys like Devon. Another posse boy, Bean, said he's calling for a haircut next week and he might be interested in delving into oral sex again. I'm not attracted to him like I am to Devon, but if Bean wants his cock sucked again that's no problem. I've always liked sucking cock and feeling a guy's dick grow hard in my mouth. Aside from enjoying it myself, it's kind of a satisfying feeling to be able to provide a sexy thrill for my friends. I'm a fan of most guys around my age anyway, that's the bottom line. There are exceptions, but for the most part young guys are cool. A percentage of them are even cute to go along with them being cool. In my opinion it's rare there isn't something cute about a young guy even if it's only his grin. I'm on the balcony drinking a Coke and smoking a cigarette when Devon rings the doorbell. On my way to the front door I grab a stick of Doublemint gum to counteract my cigarette breath. Opening the door I see Devon with a nervous grin on his face, looking cute. "Come on in, Devon. How ya doing?" He says, "Good, Dylan, I'm doing okay," and we do the posse greeting with Devon delaying the hugging part, his cheek against mine. He quietly says in my ear, "I've, um, been thinking about us lately," then he gives me a tight hug and lets go of me. I smile, "You've been thinking about us?" and he nods his head, "Yeah, I've got a wicked crush on you and at the same time a guilty conscience that's as big as a mountain." I mumble, "I'm sorry to hear about your guilty conscience, Devon. Come on downstairs." He follows me down the steps with me asking over my shoulder, "Do you want to talk about it?" He mutters, "I don't know what the hell I want anymore, Dylan." We go into the half bath where he pulls his shirt over his head and immediately his warm body scent wafts up in my face making me suck on my bottom lip and take a deep breath. Like his brother, Sonny, Devon has a sexy boyish scent. Very similar scents on both of them which shouldn't be surprising I guess. Unlike Sonny, Devon has a little strip of chest hairs down his breast bone. A thinish five inch strip of short brown wavy chest hairs that looks soft. It's not macho looking so much as it's boyish and underdeveloped. Other than that his torso is smooth with normal body definition. He's has a taut body that's almost skinny, but not quite. It's attractive actually and made more so because his creamy colored torso is contrasting nicely with his tan arms, face, and neck. The tan of his neck is extended into a 'V' where his shirt is left unbuttoned at the top in front allowing the sun to do it's thing. Devon's tan legs have some hair on the calves, but not enough that it detracts from their attractiveness. He's got a nice body over all and, like I said, he's friggin' cute too. I tousle his short light-brown hair that's the length my hair was before my haircut. It's grown out a half inch or so from the burr haircut he got last time, so it's fuzzy on top now and long enough on the sides to touch the tops of his ears. Devon's ears stick out a little which I think adds to his boyish cuteness. He's another kid who looks younger than is age. so I ask, "When will you be nineteen, Devon?" He goes, "Next month, why?" I shrug, "I don't know, you look young for your age and I was curious." He chuckles, muttering, "Look who's talking about looking young for their age." I say, "We're lucky I guess. You said you've been thinking about us, whaddaya mean?" He wets his lips with his pink tongue, then says, "Well, it's like this. Um, well, it's that I think about you when I'm having sex with Annie, and that can't be good. I Think I love Annie and it hurts me that I'm being unfaithful to her. She and me been going together for quite awhile now and she deserves better from me." I nod my head, not sure what to say to that. Then I quietly mutter, "I don't want to be the reason for your guilty conscience. You know, perhaps it would help if you understood the concept of buddy sex a little better. It's not a commitment of any kind and certainly has nothing to do with love, other than friendship. We just won't do it until you can do it without feeling guilty. Okay?" He looks at me, "I wish it were that simple, Dylan. Hell, I had to talk myself out of calling you ten times the last couple of weeks. Sex with you is so, so hot. I've been thinking about it a lot. Do you ever think about me?" Well, there's a loaded question if I ever heard one. No matter what I say it won't help Devon. If I say 'yes' it'll encourage him that we're developing a real relationship and neither of us needs that. If I say 'no' it might hurt his feelings. Hmmm, finally I go, "Sure I think about you, Devon. I like you, and we're friends. We're buddies with or without sex. I think about all my friends, so thinking about you is nothing unusual." That's the best I can come up with in this mine field we're in at the moment. He sits in the shampoo chair, and says, "You don't think about me the way I think about you though, right?" I answer his question with one of my own, "Exactly how do you think about me?" Hoping to get off this topic I tilt his chair back against the sink and turn the water on to warm it. He looks at me, "Well, Dylan, I think about you and me doing sex, that's what I think about us. I guess I'm infatuated with you so I think about us making love together." I say, "Okay, but that doesn't need to mean you love Annie less. I mean, my true love is Robby, Rob Dickers. When I have occasional buddy sex on the side it doesn't mean I love him less. We're young and working our way through our individual sexual appetites. Most guys our age are in the middle of the most powerful sex drive we'll ever experience in our lives. Our testosterone level is highest at our age. Robby and I call the buddy sex we do 'sowing our wild oats'." I'm combing through his hair, as he asks, "What the hell are wild oats?" I mutter, "I don't know, it's just a saying. For us it means getting side sex out of our system so we can devote ourselves to each other at some point." He thinks about that as I wet his hair using the spray attachment at the end of a flexible hose that's connected to the spigot. After a minute he says, "That seems like a convenient rationalization for freedom to do some fucking around." I go, "Or, it could be true. We'll see, and in the meantime that's the premise we're working with and so far it's working for us very nicely. I know my love for Robby is more intense now than it was a year ago, for example. I'm learning to appreciate him more for who he is." Devon nods and turns his head to look at me, "Are you saying I'm making too much of occasional, as you call it, buddy sex with you?" I say, "That's for you to decide, but my opinion is that yes you are making more of it than it is." He thinks about that, then to illustrate my point, I add, "You spend much more time with your friends than you do with Annie, right? Does that make you feel guilty?" He says, "No, that doesn't make me feel guilty, I sort of see what you mean. This conversation is easing my conscience considerably, Dylan. I'm beginning to put it in perspective, but I still feel some guilt doing things behind her back." Pouring shampoo into his hair, I ask him, "Do you feel guilty jerking off in between dates with, Annie? That's behind her back." He chuckles, "I do not jerk off... not every day anyway, heh heh. You're the posse's sex advisor, ain't ya." Letting that slide, I begin shampooing his hair. Maybe if I stop commenting on what he says, Devon will drop the subject. I'm aware a relationship that works for one guy doesn't necessarily mean it'll work for another. Robby and I are comfortable with our love affair and others can be comfortable with their's any way they choose. I'm not interested in converting anyone to my way of thinking except Robby. It's him and me who will eventually be riding into the sunset together so it's him and me I'm most concerned with pleasing. Devon is obviously confused and I'd like to help him with his dilemma, but I don't feel comfortable giving advise. I've made so many mistakes and bad choices myself growing up I'm simply not qualified to tell others how they should think or act. Certainly not as a sex advisor to the posse boys, Jesus! Anyway, it was Devon who initially brought up the subject of us having sex together, not me. I've merely been trying to accommodate him with that, but I've never once suggested we have sex. Not before we did it the first time, or the two subsequent times. Like I said earlier, it's fine with me if we don't have sex again. In fact I'd probably prefer it if we didn't, especially tonight because I'm quite sexually satisfied thanks to Willie. Devon's quiet as I shampoo and massage his hair and scalp. Even though I'm not feeling especially hot to trot with him tonight, I'm still enjoying looking at him. He and Sonny have some similar facial features, although they don't look as much alike as Robby and Dodger. Sonny's a little cuter than his brother, but Devon's looks have a sexy quality that Sonny's don't. As I'm running my fingers from the back of Devon's neck up and over the top of his head, he murmurs, "That feels good, Dylan. Being with you feels good, and I'm sorry if it seems like I'm dropping my problem on you. I don't mean to do that. It's just that you're the only person who I feel comfortable talking about this." I say, "I don't mind, but you need to realize I don't have all the answers." He goes, "I know, but you have helped me put things in perspective. I can't ignore my situation entirely though. I told you about me and that kid, Buttons, right? When we were twelve years old I had the hot's for him although we never did an actual sex act together. Well, I did shoot off in my bathing suit that one time, and did that ever feel good! It was one time we were sitting next to each other at the edge of the pool. We'd just come from the locker room where the two of us undressed so we could look at each other's cock, balls, and ass. Then when we were by the pool sitting together with our sides touching he put his arm across my shoulders and pulled me against him tighter and rubbed his cheek on mine. I looked at him then with a hard boner poking out my bathing suit. He stared into my eyes as he made a kissing motion with his lips and I felt an orgasm coming on. When he ran the palm of his hand down my back and then squeezed my ass, cum exploded in my bathing suit. It was weird, but he just turned me on sexually like nothing else had to that point. He was basically a geek, a geek that I was sexually aroused by. Then nothing of that sort occurred to me again until six years later when I met you." I'm listening, but not commenting, hoping Devon talks himself out. As I'm rinsing his hair, Devon says, "So there was Buttons who I was sexually aroused by and now you, so it's not something I can ignore. I need to admit to myself when I cross paths with just the right boy I have bisexual tendencies. Do you think I should tell Annie?" Guess I can't avoid a direct question. "Yes, you should, Devon, but not now. Give it time because as I told you before, crushes often, almost always actually, fade away. It's only been recent that you've been thinking about you and me. It snuck up on you and it could just as easily drift away with time." He goes, "You give me good advise, Dylan, thanks." Shit, I don't know if it's good advise or not, but I don't want Devon doing something rash that he'll regret later. My philosophy is to put stuff off and let time decide if it's even a real problem in the first place. It could resolve itself without me complicating it and fucking it up more. It doesn't always resolve itself, of course, and there are situations that require immediate action, but in Devon's case this isn't one of those times. I say, "Don't do anything rash, is all I'm saying." He mutters, "I won't, um, would it be rash if I tell you I hope you'll have sex with me tonight?" I squeeze the back of his neck while shifting the burden of that question back onto him, by asking, "Do you think it's rash?" He says, "Whether it is or not, I've been thinking about doing it with you for two weeks and I very much want to do it. I was hoping you'd have some insight into my situation and you did. I've been making more out of this than I needs to. Like you said, it's buddy sex with a friend. If it was sex with another girl, then no amount of rationalizing would make it anything but two-timing cheating on Annie. There's a gray area with us because we're both boys and it's more experimentation on my part and you're nice enough to help me experiment. Maybe I'll sow my wild oats with you and never meet another guy that turns me on the rest of my life. Like you said, I'll give it some time and see what happens," I say, "Okay, plus I'm not gonna be around here very much when I go back to college, maybe I'll be out of sight and out of mind." He mumbles, "Yeah, maybe. I hope so, which is like a lie to myself because I want badly to have sex with you and I don't think I'm going to feel differently two weeks from now." I say, "It's not necessarily a lie, Devon, it's more a contradiction. There's a lot of contradiction involved with growing up. It's best not to be too rigid in your thinking about anything. Shit changes fast at our age, particularly your age." As I'm towel drying his hair, he mutters, "I'm not sure what that meant, but I liked the sound of it, I think." See what happens when I try giving advise? It's like double talk. After drying his hair with the hair dryer, which is thankfully too loud to talk over, we walk into the finished basement where Devon sits on the stool running his fingers through his hair. "When I shampoo my own hair, Dylan, it never feels this good." I jokingly say, "I'm almost a professional, Devon, don't try duplicating my technique at home. You could sprain your neck or something." He chuckles, "Good advise. You're full of good advise tonight. Um, would it be extremely geeky of me if I asked for a kiss. Being with you has my libido in overdrive with my hormones doing cartwheels." I mumble, "You flatter me too much, Devon," and he says, "Not really, my brain is scrambled a little, but I know you're special and I know I'm not the only one who thinks so. After all, the guys voted you the best looking guy in Framingham and I'll add to that, you're the cutest too." I give him a startled look because it's sounds odd hearing that from him. He blushes like crazy, then sputters, "I'm such an dork, Dylan. I can't believe I just said that. It's true though." It's hard not to like someone who likes me this much. I say, "That's nice of you, Devon, thank you, really, but it is kind of awkward hearing that, ya know?" He nods his head, "I know... sorry." I squeeze the back of his neck, jiggling his head a little, and try to lighten things up with, "Not only am I the cutest guy in Framingham, I have a nip ring too." He's grinning when he ask, "A nip what?" I pull my shirt up and show him. His hand comes over and he rubs the palm of his hand down my side. "Oh," he says, "A ring in your nipple. Did it hurt?" I go, "Nah, just a pinch for a second. Do you think it's cool?" He goes, "On you it is, but normally I don't like all the body piercing everyone's doing. It seems so, I don't know, primitive or something." I drop my shirttail, saying, "Actually I agree with you, this is the last piercing I'm ever getting," then mutter, "That's if I have anything to say about it. My left earlobe was first, then my other ear, and finally my nipple... and that's it for me and body piercing. Too much of anything can be gross" He quietly says, "I've been thinking about getting my left ear pierced," and I go, "Yep, that what I did first too." What I don't tell him is none of the three piercing's was my idea. He's peeking at me without turning his head, his eyes at the sides of his eye sockets, his cheeks still pink from his big blush, then he forms a cute mischievous grin with his lips. Oh man, he's cute alright. My arm goes around his neck and the fingers of my other hand take hold of his chin bringing his face towards me, "Now for that kiss you mentioned, Devon." Our lips meet softly as he opens his mouth a bit, sort of inviting my tongue to join his. Out tongues slide together with Devon's hands lightly holding me on either side of my waist. Our kiss is soft and slow, more like a lover's kiss than what I'm used to from a sex-buddy kiss. Devon's basically controlling the kiss and he's very good at it too. He and Annie must have some mighty hot make-outs because Devon sure knows what he doing. His lips are moving on mine, his tongue sliding on mine as he moves his arms around my back and pulls me slowly against him. What the hell, I'll put myself in his hands and see where that leads me. Our kissing evolves from a soft luscious lover's one into a hot sexually stimulating one increasing arousal until both my arms are around his neck and I'm between his legs with him grinding his crotch against mine. I'm leaning into him grinding back as our boners come up pushing out the front of our shorts and we're both quietly moaning. My eyes are closed and my mind is solely on this hot make-out of ours, although I'm not at all sure how we got to this place so fast. Devon's hands find the waist band of my shorts and he pulls them, along with my underpants, down past my hips. His hand grabs my hard cock and strokes it a few times, then he gets off the stool pushing me back a step, still holding my boner in his fist. Our eyes are open now staring at one another as Devon unbuttons his shorts and pulls them down with his free hand. I'm mesmerized by Devon's sudden confidence and the way this inexperienced boy has taken control of everything. Now both our shorts are at our knees sliding slowly down to our ankles as we continue looking into each other's eyes. There's saliva all around Devon's lips and a look of desire in his eyes as he quietly murmurs, "Turn around, please." I hesitate a second with him staring confidently back at me, then he nods his head slightly and I slowly turn around loving this dreamy unexpected turn of events. The student's teaching the teacher. He lets go of my boner and it sticks straight up tight against my belly. Devon smacks my ass, "SLAP!" and then again, "SLAP!" with him quietly saying, "Bend over, okay?" I'm doing everything slowly trying to grasp how quickly this happened. When my hands are on my knees, my head looks back at him. He's looking at my ass as the tip of his pink tongue moves across his sexy lips. Grabbing my hips he looks at me now, giving me a boyish grin, obviously pleased with himself. Then he silently moves his lips forming the words, "Thank you." I didn't hear it, but I know what he said. He pulls my ass against his groin so his seven inch boner, that's up against his belly like mine, gets squeezed into my ass crack lengthwise spreading my ass cheeks a bit. Grinding his hips, then he moves his hips up and down with the root of his hard cock moving over the lips of my asshole. My anus contracts tightly as a moan slips from my throat. Devon lets a lot of air out of his lungs like he'd been holding his breath until now, then moves his hips up and down a few more time spreading his precum in my ass crack. I'm still looking back at him in a trance of some sort, totally taken unaware by this unexpected confidence from Devon. He's new at gay sex, just minutes ago questioning himself, and now it's like he's a different boy. Maybe this is the confident manner he shows when having sex with Annie and he's merely doing what comes naturally from always experiencing the 'top' role with her. Taking a hand from my hip he leans his hips back a little and pulls his boner down to line up the head with my anus. A little pressure spreads the lips some while wetting them with precum, then another bit of pressure and the head slides tightly past my sphincter muscle and now our bodies are connected. His cock has docked with my asshole and it feel really good to me. Devon's head goes back with, "Mmmmm," coming out of his tightly closed lips. I suck on my lips and tighten my sphincter muscle loving the feeling of his cock's head in my ass. He waits a few seconds rubbing the palms of his hands down my sides and all around by back. His hands then cup my shoulders with Devon leaning forward. He holds me in place and makes a breathy sound through his teeth as he pushes his cock slowly up my ass drawing a long quiet moan of pleasure from me, "Oooooooh," and then, "Mmmmm, oooh, yeaaah." No pain because he is producing plenty of a natural lubricant also known as precum. Nature thinks of just about everything. Devon's body gets tight against my buttocks and then he hugs around my waist pulling me against him so he can get his boner inside me further. This compresses my bubble butt a tiny bit and I feel his boner move forward slightly in my rectum. A seven inch boner, not too thick and not too thin, fills up my ass so perfectly my shoulders shudder along with another quiet moan from my throat, "Aaaaah." Devon straightens up some and moves his hands to my hips again as he withdraws his boner until only the head remains inside me. He hesitates a second and then slides it all the way back up my ass. Devon gasps and then murmurs, "Mmmm, having sex with you is such a thrill, partly because you make it obvious how much you like it, and partly because your ass is awesome for this kind of sex. Both things make it more enjoyable for me 'cause I know we're both having sexual pleasure equally. That means a lot to me. It frees me to fully enjoy every second of our sex." The most I can do is nod my head because Devon's totally captivated me although I doubt very much he's aware of that fact. One slow withdrawal followed by a quicker penetration, and then Devon begins a steady fucking of my ass. "Slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds fill the room and seemingly echo off the walls. It's a very familiar sound to me and one I savor and have nothing but positive memories of. The one exception to that being that time with Jake, and even then it felt good, it just wasn't invited. A quiet moan from Devon with each thrust up my ass, "Ah, ah, ah, ah," and me going, "Oh, oh, oh, oh," each time his crotch smacks into my ass, "Slap, slap, slap, slap." Anal fucking has got to be the hottest form of sex there is because I simply can't conceive of anything feeling this good, never mind feeling better. My hard as stone cock is throbbing and leaking precum that's running very slowly down the shaft of my boner to my nuts and from there dripping, "Drip, drip, drip," to my left sandal, then leaking off the straps of my sandal to wet my foot. Devon fucks good and I hope Annie appreciates it half as much as I do. His thrusts are steady, but not hurried. I concentrate on how wonderfully sexy it feels, even visualizing it in my head, seeing his entire shaft sliding past the tight lips of my anus tantalizing them. His hard boner travels in and up my ass pulling the lips in, and then when pulling back his cock drags my anus' lips outward, and then in again and everything's repeated in a delicious dance of sexual pleasure. My moaning and groaning is done quietly as I consciously try not to make a bloody fool of myself in front of the novice, the novice who fucks me like he knows what he's doing. Every couple of seconds his hard cock, particularly the swollen head, stimulate my prostate on the way in and then again when pulling back and the steady rhythm of these stimulations is so pleasurable my shoulders do their familiar shuddering every few seconds. My prostate gland is what's grabbed most of my attention now. My body's squirming constantly from the sexual sensations produced from this pleasure gland that's about the size of a large walnut. It's a pleasure gland for sure, but it's also busy producing milky white, slightly alkaline fluid that is chock full of spermatozoa that will constitute more than half my semen at ejaculation. My smooth prostate also contains muscles, muscles that will assist with expelling the cum from my nuts up the shaft of my erect cock and out the pulsating head. Devon's spunk will shoot up my ass where it's sperm's fate will be either to drool out my ass or get harmlessly absorbed into my body. The sperm in my orgasm will live awhile and then die out a rather ignominious short life on the floor. Devon is thrusting quicker now as his climax builds so there are much faster, "Slap, slap, slap," sounds of our bodies smacking together fooling my ears into thinking it's one long 'Slap!" The awesome sensations in my ass increase until it's one long series of pleasure signals bombarding my brain and bringing on my orgasm for a climax of exploding sexual pleasure that's consistently sexually thrilling. A minute of fucking turns into two, then four and it's fantastic with me smelling sex and my sex partner in equal portions. Sexy smelling Devon is young and at the height of his sexuality humping my ass like he was born to it. Five minutes of pleasure groans, my body all squirming and alive with tingling sensations that include the roots of my hair and the toes on my feet. Six minutes of awesome sexual pleasure, sexual pleasure that only anal fucking can create in me. Devon's thrusting his long hard cock back and forth in my rectum until I'm gasping at the overloaded pleasure center in my brain, and then it's here. A few seconds warning of impending orgasm and then my back arches, I squeal and thrust my hips as cum burst from the head of my cock in a nice tight arc... a two foot long string of creamy white cum that produces indescribable pleasure on it's way up and out of my boner. It's followed by three shots of shorter spunk strings with me seeing pinpricks of light for a second or two. I'm still shaking as the sensations fly around my body making me blink my eyes and try memorizing every spark of pleasure. My shoulders shudder again as I breath deeply still loving Devon's cock plowing my ass. Then he grunts, makes a whining sound and leans against my ass, his hands cupping my shoulders keeping me still as he does tight humps against me shooting his semen into my bowels. Then another hump with Devon moaning, and again I feel him shudder against me. His body is still for a second and then another long exhale of warm misty air on my back. "Oh man," mutters Devon, "Oh fuck, that was un-fucking-believable," and he humps his cock in my cum-saturated ass a half dozen times before he pulls his cock out completely leaving my rectum alive with pleasant sensations and my wide open anus clenching and unclenching. Devon strokes his still firm cock a few times before sliding it back up my ass and fucking me for another thirty seconds. He pulls it out again, takes a deep breath, smacks across both my butt cheeks, "SLAP!" and sits his bare ass back on the stool, sighing. I straighten up and stroke my cock, then turn around and look at him. He spreads his arms, shaking his head a little, then mutters, "I don't know what got into me. The same thing happened the last time, remember? I had to do it a second time that night. And just now all of a sudden I just lost it and yanked down your pants and, I, um, I'm sorry... I couldn't control myself, Dylan." I have another little body shudder, feeling fine, then mumble, "No problem, Devon, it was hot. Great buddy sex, buddy." He shrugs, muttering, "That was the good part for me, but now comes the bad part where I'm pissed at myself for being weak and giving in to my sexual urges. I can't lie to myself, having sex with you is cheating on Annie the same if it was a girl I was doing it with." I pat his shoulder, saying, "Remember what we talked about ten minutes ago? You're making too much out of it, Devon. Buddy sex is almost like a kid's circle jerk." He shakes his head, mumbling, "The hell it is. Fucking is fucking." Well, I'm not going to split hairs with him, but anal sex is not the same as hetero sex with a girl, this is better, so fucking isn't just fucking. I say, "Wait here," and as I hold my pants up around my thighs I go into the half bath and get a hand towel for each of us. I'm holding mine to my ass with one hand and holding my pants up with the other. Devon's towel is across my shoulder as I walk back to him enjoying the sensation of just being fucked good. Devon's still sitting on the stool hanging his head. He wants to have his cake and eat it too, but I won't make him feel worse by telling him he's pissing me off a little because he's basically feeling sorry for himself. Handing him a towel I wipe drooling cum off the back of my legs and then hold the towel to my ass again. He half heartedly wipes his dick and then stands to pull his shorts and underwear up. Buttoning his shorts and pulling up the zipper, he says, "I'm acting dumb again, Dylan, sorry buddy, I guess I'm feeling sorry for myself. Sorry that I have this homosexual attraction to you, but still doing it anyway. It sure complicates my life, it's like I spend way too much time worrying about it." I mutter, "It's no problem, Devon, but I feel bad for you, that's all. You're beating yourself up about something that comes naturally to you. It's not like you consciously decided one day, 'Hey, I think I'll cheat on Annie by doing gay sex with Dylan behind her back'. We all have a subconscious part of our brain that controls probably much more of our reaction to things than we imagine. It's both a little scary and a little exciting at the same time. It's like, what's my subconscious mind have in store for me today." He says, "I wish I could rationalize away stuff as easily as you. You and Sonny are good at that." Sonny? I'm not going there! Pulling up my underwear and shorts, I say, "I'd really like a cigarette about now. Will you keep me company on the balcony?" He says, "I'll come with you, but I don't smoke, and you shouldn't either." I'd like to put some distance between us and the mention of Sonny, so I ask, "Oh, why shouldn't I smoke?" As we're going up the steps, he chuckles, "Are you kidding? It's not a secret that cigarettes cause cancer among any number of other undesirable illnesses, like emphysema for one." I go, "Oh, those kinds of things. Yeah, I know about what long term exposure to cigarette smoking can cause some people, but I don't smoke much and I'm quitting after college. I thought you meant I shouldn't smoke for social reasons, like it stinks and my mouth is like an ashtray." He says, "That too." Lighting a cigarette, I mumble, "I chew gum. Don't pick on us weak guys with bad habits." He says, "How about my bad habit?!" Taking a drag on my cigarette, I ask, "Are you referring to gay sex? I don't consider that a bad habit any more than I consider any kind of consensual sex between adults bad. Sex isn't a bad thing, quite the opposite." He waves his hand at my exhaled smoke, and says, "When you put it that way I guess I agree with you. I told you my brain is scrambled over this." I ask, "Was your brain scrambled about having sex with Annie? I'm sure neither of your parents would consider it a good thing for seventeen year olds, or however young you were when you started routinely screwing together." He chuckles, "No, my brain wasn't scrambled over that, but Annie's was." I ask, "Is her brains still scrambled when you do it?" He shrugs, "No, not so much but I need to be the one who suggest it and then persuade her to do it." Huh, he's the one who had to suggest it to me too, although there was very little need for the persuading part. It's my turn to shrug, muttering, "Whatever." I smoke in silence for a minute with Devon staring at the stars. I want to say more about our buddy sex, so I go, "It's like I really enjoyed it with you tonight, Devon, but that's mostly the extent of my feelings. No guilt whatsoever. And, um, I feel bad you think it's wrong because it isn't, and you worrying about it the way you do just causes you unnecessary stress when it shouldn't. We enjoyed doing it together and it's really nobody else's business, plus who knows if we'll ever do it again. Maybe we won't, so don't make a mountain out of a mole hill. Our sex was the tiniest part of your life... six or seven minutes at most. Don't let a tiny thing like that rule your common sense." He looks at me a few seconds, then with a straight face, and in a serious manner, he says, "Oh, um, I was hoping we could do it again later tonight. That's why I asked you if we could hook up after my haircut." Hmmm, I'm waiting for him to grin or laugh or something, but he's serious. That makes me laugh, "Okay, Devon, sure, but I'm having a hard time keeping up with your thought patterns." He frowns, "Huh?" and I go, "If you think back on the things you've said tonight you may detect a slight contradiction of concepts in what you say from one minute to the next. Having sex with me is wrong and you feel very guilty about doing it on a number of fronts, but yet you want to do it not once tonight, but twice. It's fine with me, just saying." He goes, "Heh heh, yeah, I see what you mean. I blame it on my scrambled brain." I mutter, "Convenient." We talk about the end of Ray's posse boy days with Devon giving me exa mples of how it was basically a cool thing the first few years, but then it became tedious as they got older. No one wanted to be the first one to quit because then they'd be the neighborhood outcast. He says it's past time to disband though and he's glad Ray was the one who decided that because they're all still friends, but now each guy can be more himself rather than going along with the group. He says, "All us guys will be splitting up after high school anyway. You know, going to different colleges or joining the Armed Forces or whatever." I say, "Yep, that true but you'll probably maintain a tighter friendship over the years with one or two of the guys, just not as a member of a group." He says, "I like all the guys pretty much the same with the exception being Mark. He can be a pain in the ass. Time will tell if I become closer to one or two guys than the others." I look at my watch, "It's almost nine-thirty, Devon, lets do your haircut. What kind of haircut do you want tonight?" Coming in from the balcony, we're walking through the condo as he says, "Annie likes short hair and I'll compromise with her, but for now all I want is a neat trim. I want to have a neat haircut, but one with my hair long enough to lay flat on my head." I go, "Yep, and it'll be long enough on top to lay flat within two weeks, that's my best estimate. I won't touch the top." Going down the steps to the basement, Devon says, "Remember my first haircut with you? You combed my hair forward and it reached my chin." I go, "That was fun to cut, yeah I remember. I also remember you said you rarely got haircuts because an old barber intimidated you as a kid." He goes, "He intimidated all of us, but it didn't bother the others the way it bothered me." Thinking about the barbers Willie has taken me to, I mutter, "Yeah, some barbers can be intimidating, and you don't want to piss them off for fear they'll fuck up your hair more than usual." Devon's haircut takes only ten minutes and I could have done it in five except I like doing it so I took my time. I use only scissors and comb to trim around his ears and neck, tapering a little to give some definition to his haircut. Then the trimmers to outline around his ears and taper the hairs at his hairline in back. It looks neat and preppy, just the right look for clean cut Devon. I say, "That should satisfy Annie," as I'm passing him the handheld mirror. He says, "Yeah, that's good. Can you believe barbers charge nineteen dollars to do this?" I mumble, "Everybody wants to make fifty thousand dollar a year or more, and that's true no matter their skill level or knowledge. Truth is some people are grossly overpaid and some are grossly underpaid." He says, "You sound like my father who says barbers, plumbers, electricians, everybody who works wants to make as much as the next guy." I say, "Basically I don't blame them, but not everyone's services are as important as others. It's always bothered me that police in sleepy suburban towns with hardly any crime make as much salary as intercity cops who do real and dangerous police work. Same for firemen, but these two professions are considered untouchable. On the other hand, soldiers don't get paid enough to fight wars, while politicians are another grossly overpaid group that initiates the wars." Devon chuckles, and says, "I'm glad I'm still too young to worry about shit like that." That makes me wonder when I started thinking these thoughts. Hmmm, nothing I can do about any of it anyway. When Devon's cleaned up and his shirt's back on, he says, "How about we see what's up at the Dairy Queen. I'm feeling a strawberry sundae." I go, "Okay, lets go." When we're outside walking down the steps to Devon's car, he says, "Thanks for listening to me tonight, Dylan, and for not making fun of my concerns about cheating on Annie. You put things in perspective for me, especially when you said I'm taking five or ten minutes of my life and fixating on those minutes like they're the most significant minutes out of all the minutes I've lived. I'm not perfect so why do I feel I need to be that way. It's kind of arrogant of me, don't ya think? Me trying to be perfect." I don't want any more serious discussion, so I say, "Yeah, who the fuck do you think you are trying to be perfect. Be a fuck up like me." When we get in his car, he asks, "Do you think professional athletes are overpaid?" Continuing my efforts at not being serious, I say, "Of course not! A-rod is worth every penny of his thirty million dollars a year even though he takes steroids and hasn't played yet this year." Devon chuckles, "Yeah, that seems fair." I'm wondering why we haven't pulled away from the curb yet. Looking over I see Devon staring back waiting for a safe time to pull into traffic, except the closest car to us is a couple hundred yards up the highway. He catches me glancing back, and mutters, "I'll go when this guy passes us." I shrug, but what the fuck's he waiting for? When he finally begins driving it becomes immediately obvious he took driving lesson from the same person Ryan used. Devon's as cautious as a little old lady behind the wheel, just like Ryan, and Ryan's got a hot Mini Cooper no less. Oh well, better cautious than reckless. My driving philosophy about highway driving is this: anyone going slower than me is an asshole and anyone going faster is a dangerously reckless driver and should lose their license. We eventually arrive at the Dairy Queen and not surprisingly it's crowded on this summer night. Lots of people of all ages including Dawg and Stringbean at a picnic table, and with girls no less. I ask Devon, "Are those girls the guy's girlfriends?" He shrugs, "I don't know the one next to Dawg, but the other girl is Debby, who's Bean's on-again off-again girlfriend, sort of." We get out and stroll over to exchange fist bumps with the guys. Debby says, "Yo, Devon, how they hangin'?" Devon says, "Why do you want to know?" She says, "Fuck you, McCarty, I'm just making small talk" and Bean says, "Don't talk to him like that, you bitch," and the other girl says, "You guys are a bunch of born losers." Dawg quietly says, "Can't we all just get along?" and he glances at me trying not to grin. The no-name girl says, "What, are you Rodney King now, Dawg?" He shrugs and mumbles, "What Bean said," and she goes, "Fuck you too." I say, "Well, this has been fun, but we're gonna get some soft serve now." Debby says, "Oh, don't go. You're Dylan, aren't you?" I say, "Who? I'm Chuck Hagel," and she goes, "You're cute, Chuck." I mutter, "Thanks," and we walk over to stand in line for ice cream. I go, "Jesus, where'd they pick up those classy chicks?" Devon goes, "Debbie was in one of Bean's classes last year at high school. He thinks she's beautiful, and oh yeah, the other thing she's got going for herself is she blows him." Jesus! Now I don't want to suck Bean's dick. I say, "Well, one out of two ain't bad." By the time we get to order our imitation ice cream the two sweet couples have left the area. I see a guy I knew in high school, Rory Magoon, who just got out of a car with two guys I don't know. We pass and exchange fist bumps, "Wassup, Newman?" I go, "Gee, that's kind of a personal question, Rory." He says, "Hey, somebody told me you're gay," I go, "Somebody's right," and he goes, "No shit, Mickey Good is gay too. Did you know that?" I go, "No I didn't, plus I don't know Mickey Good." He says, "He was in Geometry with us in eleventh grade." I shake my head, "Doesn't ring a bell," and he says, "I can introduce you two if you want." I say, "No thanks, I have a boyfriend." Rory looks at Devon, "Oh, yeah, I see." I laugh, "No you don't. See you around, Rory," and we walk over to lean against Devon's car and eat our soft serve. I got a strawberry sundae too. After a few spoonfuls I say, "This strawberry syrup is sweet enough to give me a toothache." He says, "Yeah, it's awesome. Probably imitation. " We're halfway done our sundaes when Devon says, "Oh shit, there's Bob M cAfee." I ask, "Who's that?" Devon shakes his head, "He hates me, that's who he is. Way back in fucking middle school somebody, not me, put chewing gum in his hair walking between classes. He had real long hair back then and I guess he didn't even feel it when the gum went in. He had the locker next to mine and I hit his head with my backpack accidentally when a friend of mine who was passing by goosed me. You know, I turned real fast and my backpack hit McAfee's head. He called me an asshole and went back to screwing with his combination lock getting frustrated. He ran his fingers through his hair yelling to no one in particular that he hates combination locks. When his fingers hit the chewing gum, he pulls up this big gob of chewing gum that was embedded in his hair. With this confused look on his face, he looks accusingly at me. It struck me funny and I laughed. He punched me in the solar plexus, I double over and he punches me on the side of my head. A teacher comes over and we both get taken to the assistant principles office. It was taken for granted I put the gum in McAfee's hair even though I denied it. We both got detention. I tried to get McAfee to believe me, but circumstantial evidence was against me. That started his vendetta against me, and it went on all through high school. He's a bad ass and tough, so I stayed clear of him as much as I could, but at times he'd humiliate me. Bullying me basically, the big asshole." I ask, "What'd he do about the gum?" Devon sucks some soft serve off his plastic spoon, mumbling, "What could he do? He had a bald spot at the back of his head surrounded by long hair and he endured some mocking from the crew he hung out with. He made it his mission to try and make my life miserable. Last year, one time in gym I'm sitting on the bleachers tying my sneakers and he comes up behind me with large scissors and cuts a big chunk of hair off my head. You remember how long I wore my hair before you gave me the first haircut, so it was embarrassing to say the least." I ask, "Why didn't you get the posse boys to help you extract revenge on his ass?" He goes, "Because I didn't want to get them involved. McAfee's guys are real tough bad asses." I go, "Huh, that sucks." We're throwing out plastic cup and spoons in the big trash barrel when something hits the back of Devon's head. It's a half eaten soft serve ice cream cone that splatters and then drools down Devon's neck onto his shirt in the back. "Fuck! What was that?" he yells, and turns around to see his sworn enemy smirking. McAfee says, "Oops, I missed the barrel," and Devon says, "You are the biggest asshole ever. Fuck you." McAfee says, "You'd like to, fag, wouldn't ya?" He slowly struts over giving me a hard look. "Who the fuck are you?" he wants to know, standing too close to me. He's my height, maybe a half inch taller, but heavier by about forty pounds. I step back from him, muttering, "No offense intended, but have you ever considered Cert breath fresheners?" He pushes me and does and exaggerated exhale in my face. Someone has conveniently deposited a Coke bottle in the trash barrel right next to me. I pick it up and whack him in the face with it hard. It's splits his lip and he lunges for me with Devon on his back. The two of us could have handled it, but McAfee wasn't traveling alone and a short heavy set kid jumps in and gets Devon around the neck from behind. McAfee wrestles me to the ground, getting his blood all over me in the process. He winds up sitting on my chest which would be unfortunate for me except I've still got the Coke bottle in my hand and I hit his knee with it as hard as I can and hear a screech from him sounding almost feminine. The knee cap can be very painful if dislocated or if it sustains a direct hit by something hard, like a Coke bottle. He's holding his knee and I'm able to leverage him off me. McAfee can't stand at the moment so he's no problem. The chunky kid wrestling with Devon doesn't know his bully buddy is temporarily out of commission so I walk up beside the two of then as they're grabbling with each other and throw a round house punch that catches shorty on the side of his head. He lets go of Devon and comes at me like a wild animal, snarling and throwing his fist. I back up to avoid a wild swing of his fist and fall over McAfee who still whining on the ground. With police sirens in the back ground McAfee throws a short punch that connect with my face, his fist covering my eye-socket and it packed way more punch than I expected from such a short jab. I stagger to my feet and so does McAfee, but he's favoring his injured knee. His chunky partner nails Devon with an upper cut to his chin and Devon sits down hard, going, "Umpth." McAfee says to his friend, "Let's get the fuck out of here before the cops get here. I'm on probation as it is." Chunky kicks Devon and I lunge for him knocking him down wildly throwing punches at his face. McAfee's limping over and pushes me away from the chunky kid who gets up. I hop up too just as chunky throws a punch that misses me, but I'm leaning back so he shoves both hands in my chest knocking me off my feet. He sees McAfee limping towards his car I imagine so Chunky says to Devon and me on the ground, "Come around anytime you want to get your ass kicked, girls." Devon and I are both sitting up now on the hard parking lot. Retorts or threats from this position would sound lame. Best to say nothing, plus if they think they won the fight they'll have no need to carry a grudge. I help Devon up and we walk behind the building and out to a side street. We don't want to deal with the cops either. I light a cigarette, muttering, "Hanging out with you is hazardous, Devon." He mumbles, "Welcome to my world," and I ask, "Does this sort of this happen often?" He shrugs, "Not since school let out. Tonight's the first time I've seen that asshole all summer. This isn't their normal stomping grounds." I go, "Lucky me... they made a special trip tonight." He says, "Thanks for helping, Dylan, not that I'd expected anything less from a stand up guy like you. Hey, do you agree with Snyder that they kicked our ass?" I ask, "Was the short kid, Snyder?" He shakes his head 'yes' and I go, "I'd call it a tie, maybe with the edge going to the Coke bottle. Fuck, I smashed it in McAfee's face and he didn't blink, just came charging at me. The fucking animal." Devon says, "We don't usually resort to weapons." I go, "Shit, my brother and I have a standing rule when it comes to a fight... use whatever you can get your hands on. If there was a hammer in the trash barrel I'd have used it." We're walking aimlessly in a suburban neighborhood waiting for the cops to leave. A man sitting in the dark on his porch, calls over, "Were you boys in a car accident?" I look down and see McAfee's blood on my shirt and Devon mutters to me, "His blood's on your face and neck too, plus your arms and hands. I go, "Euuu," then call back to the man, "No car accident, it was a fight, we're fine," then to Devon, "Come on lets turn back before some good samaritan gives us mouth to mouth resuscitation." We begin walking back, as I ask, "Do the posse boys get in a lot of fights?" He says, "Yeah, more than our share. You remember at the basketball game that time, those assholes gave us some shit?" I go, "Yeah," and he says, "That would have turned into a fight, but you defused it just enough so it didn't. Framingham has some tough neighborhoods to go with the expensive ones and then there's the slum areas in the downtown area." I think of Seth's and Connor's neighborhood and mumble, "Yeah, I know." He says, "We both live in fairly nice neighborhoods so we're lucky." Nodding my head, I step on my cigarette butt, then say, "My place is closer, lets clean up there and then get a Big Mac at McDonalds, I'm hungry now." Devon mutters, "Yeah, me too and after that can we, you know?" I say, "Yeah, why not. Let's use my bed this time, my mom doesn't get home until late." He says, "Cool, that'll be a treat, my first ever sex in a bed." As we walk back onto the Dairy Queen parking lot, I ask, "Didn't you ever have sex in a bed with Annie?" He goes, "Hell, no, the back seat or on a blanket on the ground somewhere. That's as close to a bed as we've done it in." I'm curious how often they have sex, but that's too rude of a question. I don't know Devon well enough to ask that. Then I wonder why I never use my bed for sex before this summer. I mean, the chance Chubby bops in is remote and even more so for mom. Huh, I guess now that I've come 'out' the risk has reduced a lot. If they did bop in it'd be a little embarrassing, but not shocking to them. to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com Please consider a tax deductible donation to nonprofit Nifty to help them maintain this great story sites. Thank you.