Date: Mon, 26 Apr 2010 05:01:42 -0700 (PDT)
From: don mumford <thinat20@yahoo.com>
Subject: DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION  Chapter 6 (More Wildwood) by Donny Mumford

			  DYLAN'S SUMMER VACATION

	       Chapter 6 (More Wildwood)   by Donny Mumford


Gary and I walked almost to the end of the boardwalk; his arm around my
neck, my head against his shoulder with my arm around the back of his waist
under his Polo pullover hiding my pink nail-polished fingernails, my
fingers squeezing his side. He's very slender but it wasn't ribs I felt
against my hand, it was nice taut flesh over a thin layer of muscle.  As we
slowly and silently walked the boards, me dragging my feet in his too big
sneakers, I have this notion that his sleek body is much stronger than it
looks; after all he'd picked me up with ease in the lavatory yesterday
afternoon. The shops became fewer as we neared the end of the boardwalk
which meant a handful of walkers, but we still attracted gawkers, and why
wouldn't we; two boys with Mohawk haircuts hugging each other shuffling
slowly along, neither of us talking nor observing the goings-on around
us. There were a few catcalls and taunts from young teens who didn't know
any better and some harmless joking shout-outs from older teens to the
effect that it's too early in the day for us to be stoned. We'll probably
be the topic of dinner conversations later this evening... "Wait till I
tell ya what I saw on the boardwalk!"  It was weird of course... everything
I've done with Gary qualifies as weird in one way or another, but it's a
calm and peaceful weirdness for me. I feel comfortable being with Gary,
safe and, now, taken cared of too. My new friend is kinda goofy, but so
what? The fact is we've bonded; it was a very natural thing that's happened
on its own.  I know very little about him and he knows even less about me
and yet we're totally relaxed with each other. I have this sense of trust
in Gary, like he's someone I've known for a while, someone who can be
depended upon and, what the hell, so far he's earned that trust.

It's been quite a while since either of us has spoken and I have the
distinct impression Gary could go on like this for a very long time, but
there's something I need to remind him of. Lifting my head from his
shoulder and gazing at the side of his face causes him to turn his head to
face me, smiling as always. I say, "Rene wants me back there at
four-thirty, Gary ... something to do with my tattoo.  Maybe we should
start back."  His smile is so warm and ya know what, his full face looks
kinda cute to me just now. This happens when I become fond of someone, they
appear cuter and cuter the fonder I become of them. "Please don't worry,
Dylan, I'll make sure you're back on time. I live a couple of blocks from
here, we can make a pit stop at my house and cool off, have something to
drink and I'll drive you back on my scooter." I'm thinking, "Scooter? Ya
gotta be kidding me!" but I didn't say anything. Even so, he must have seen
something in my expression 'cause he smiles big, looking cuter, and
mumbles, "It's a big scooter," then, with his arm around my neck he
unexpectedly pulls my face toward his and kisses my cheek; his lower lip
stud warm from the sun. He says, "You're awful cute, Dylan!" Damn, that
made me blush and I whisper back, "Thanks..." wondering, "Did he read my
mind? I was just thinking about him being cute."  Without thinking I
touched my cheek where Gary kissed me and, in his serious manner, he
informs me, "That kiss is okay, don't worry. Rene says it's okay for us
boys to kiss on the cheek but not the lips, only faggots kiss on the lips."
I say, "Um, no offense, but he's wrong about that. Don't ya ever watch
twink videos on line? Those boys kiss on the lips all the time." He's like,
"Really? No, I've never watched one of those. My mother checks our
computer's history; I'm not allowed to clear it." That's too weird a
statement; I'm stammering, "Oh my! Yeah, is that so? Hmmm, that's ah...
that's different alright." He nods his head as if what he'd just explained
to me was nothing out of the ordinary, then kisses my cheek again and asks,
"Do you like me, Dylan? It's kinda scares me how much I like you." I say,
"Sure I do, Gary.  What's not to like?" Another casual smile from Gary as
he runs his fingers back through my short Mohawk hair murmuring, "This is
so cool-looking on you!"  As usual he's completely oblivious to our
surroundings, but I'm not. Standing still in the middle of the boardwalk
we've attracted a small crowd of tourist types who're milling around in our
vicinity watching Gary and me, talking behind their hands, smirking and
chuckling. We're still kinda hugging, our faces six inches apart and the
breeze off the ocean is strong enough to be blowing Gary's seven inch
gelled Mohawk about; the two of us are quite a sight. I quietly mutter, "I
already feel like we're friends."  He's still checking out my Mohawk, the
back of his fingers drifting over the bleached tips of that strip of
two-toned blond hair. I put a little pressure at his back with the arm I
have around his waist hoping to get us moving again. No one, not even
Willie, is as unconcerned about his surroundings as Gary . Gary's easy
going though, so my little tugs at his waist get him moving again. On the
move now, I rub my hand up his side under his shirt to show him a little
affection and in return he squeezes my neck and leans his cheek against my
head, whispering, "You smell good, Dylan."

Half a block further down the boardwalk we exit via a short ramp and right
away the heat and humidity envelops us. During August, away from the ocean,
it's always wicked hot and humid at the Jersey shore. We both begin
sweating as we walk along the sidewalk with our arms continuing to connect
us together like we're a single entity. Between his arm and my neck a band
of perspiration forms, but I don't mind, I kinda like that Gary has his arm
there. In this section of Wildwood the homes are big single-family
dwellings contrasting with the cramped-together multi-family condos in the
part of town where we rent. Gary leads us up the driveway of a large home
saying, "My mother's a child psychiatrist, she'll be at her office
downtown. Mother and father divorced when I was ten and I've no brothers or
sisters so you and me have the place to ourselves. My first thought was,
"Only two people live in this enormous house? My second thought was,
"They're rich enough to have this house and yet mother and son share the
same computer?" and my third thought was, "Does that comment about having
the place to ourselves mean he's looking for some sex?"  The first two
questions can wait, about the third one, I say, "Ah, Gary ... um, ya know
the Mohawk man fucked me hard today. I'm, ah, you know, not ready for
anything along those lines at the moment. No offense." He goes, "Oh my
gosh, Dylan, I didn't mean to infer that. It's just that I want you to know
you can feel relaxed in the house." I mumble, "Oh, well thanks." The door
wasn't even locked! Gary just turns the knob and in we go.

Inside the front door, there's a big foyer with three hallways, one leading
to the kitchen, another to the living room and the third to the library;
there are other rooms connecting with these three, of course. The
furnishings, everything really, looks ritzy to me; ritzy, as in
expensive. It's very chilly and quiet, the only sound, a very low hum
coming from the central air conditioning. Gosh, who would've thought Gary
was rich? We're standing there, Gary with his arm around my neck, and me
wondering what's next.  Finally he says, "You know what I've decided,
Dylan?" I wait, and he waits. Finally, I say, "No, what?" and he continues,
"That I like your idea about boys kissing better than Rene's version of it
being for faggots only. What's the difference between a faggot and us, by
the way?" I assume it's a rhetorical question until he prompts me, "Do you
know the difference, Dylan? I don't." I say, "Ah, the word faggot is a slur
against a gay person, that's about it." He's biting his lip as we continue
standing just inside his front door holding onto each other. After a bit he
goes, "Sheesh, do ya think Rene knows that?" There's something that tells
me Gary's not stupid even though a mean-spirited person might jump to that
conclusion. He's admitted to being incredibly naive, but there's also an
innocence about him that's fascinating and I think it's a clue that there's
probably an explanation for his strange, clueless condition. I say, "Gee,
Gary, you know Rene much better than I do, I couldn't tell ya what he
knows." Gary says, "I'm kinda surprised to discover Rene's the kind of
person who uses slur words. I don't like that." I go, "Well, I don't know
him that well... I'm just saying." Gary actually tightens his hold around
my neck, leans the side of his face against the side of my head, and then
straightens up to say,"Er, ya know, do you think you could show me how to
make-out sometime? It's understandable that you aren't up for anything like
that now, but sometime. By the way, is it like regular kissing?" I go, "To
be honest with ya, I'm not an expert on hetero kissing techniques. When I
make out with a boy we do regular kisses and French kissing, we also do a
lot of tongue against tongue action, plus licking and sucking each other's
upper or lower lips with lots of saliva swapping. It's really, really
sexy." He goes, "Hmmm, kissing with another boy; I never though about that
too much, but you make it sound hot alright." I shrug and say, "What the
heck, if you want to try it, we'll do it." He asks, "You mean you'd do it
now?" I smile at him and say, "For you, Gary, sure. You rescued me,
man. I'd be a boy in pink panties stranded on the beach or the boardwalk if
it weren't for you." He says, "Oh, wow, thanks!  I liked rescuing you, but
please don't tell Rene I did it."

He then started walking us again; we walked through large rooms, went up
some steps, down a hallway and into his bedroom. It was a nice room and
right off I see the big flat-screen television; there's a queen size
four-poster bed against one wall, two wing chairs against another on either
side of a large chest of drawers, and a doorway leading into his private
bathroom which appeared to be approximately the size of my bedroom. Next to
the bathroom door was a really nice desk with an awesome CD player on top;
all the furniture is on a large maroon Oriental rug. Its great stuff
alright except there's no PC of any kind and that seems so odd for a teen's
bedroom. I glance out his bedroom window and see their swimming pool while
Gary's quietly mulling things over in his mind. He's still has his arm
around my neck as he hums that song he's always humming. He stops doing
that to tell me he's decided he does want to try the boy-on-boy kissing, if
I'm still willing. He says, "But first, ya gotta promise not to tell Rene
about us doing that too. Okay, Dylan?" Hmmm, I was hoping he wouldn't
actually want to do it right now 'cause I'm still pretty much sexed-out
from that fuck Mohawk man put on my ass an hour or so ago. Well, I did tell
Gary I'd do it, and I'm still in my aggressive balls to the wall gung ho
mood for adventure, so I'll do it. It's no big thing really, I'll make out
with Gary a little bit and see if he likes it and, at the same time, see if
I like making out with him. If we're both good with it maybe it'll set us
up for some serious making out tomorrow. I say, "I'm not gonna tell Rene
about this or about anything else, Gary ." He smiles and says, "I know I
can trust you."

The thing is, promising not to tell Rene is almost a moot point because
after he takes care of my tattoo later this afternoon I have no plans to
ever see him again, but I don't need to bring this fact up to Gary . He
finally lets go of my neck and I let go of his waist. My pink nail polish
shines in the sunshine streaming through the room's double
windows... pretty in pink, ugh! Gary's standing in front of me so I pull
his head down to my level and kiss his lips. His bottom one with the stud
is a totally new feel for me. The solid, smooth metal stud makes his bottom
lip artificially firm and that, contrasting with the full softness of my
lips and tongue, is kinda cool. Gary goes, "Oh! A real kiss, huh?" He
smiles and says, "You're a very cute kid, Dylan, so it seems okay to kiss
you, but I can't imagine kissing Rene or even Buck." I say, "Well, I think
you first gotta like the guy before kissing becomes an option, and that
holds true no matter if he's cute or not." Gary nods that he sees that,
then says, "Yeah, okay. Can you do it again, please?" I kiss his closed
lips again, this time with a little tongue tucked in between his lips which
I move back and forth a few times separating his lips from end to end. He
lifts his head saying, "Wow! That made my dick move." It got me thinking
Gary might be like me, highly sexual, and if so, this making out could be
fun. Then I notice something surprising: I find myself attracted to Gary
. Yes, I'm actually attracted to this unusual boy and kissing his lips
highlighted that fact to me. He's unusual in more ways than just his
appearance, many of his mannerisms are different too and his politeness,
mixed with a sort of naive confidence in himself, puts him in a class by
himself... at least I've never met anyone like him. There's also an innate
honesty and niceness about him that's simply not present in most teens I
know. And, I can't emphasize enough that him being there for me outside
Mohawk Piercing really meant a lot to me; that's friendship!

I say, "Try kissing me back like a regular kiss, Gary," which he does quite
nicely. "My turn," I say, and this time I put my tongue in between his
teeth and lap his tongue. He squeezes me around my waist leaning his mouth
into mine going, "Mmmm mmm" breathing through his nose and bouncing his
crotch into my stomach lightly.  He has nice medium-size rosy red lips and,
as I've said, the stud in the lower one actually adds to his make-out
appeal.  His tongue is firm, just the kind I like, and his saliva is
neutral-tasting, but somehow fresh too. He pulls his head away again taking
a deep breath, and then, very seriously, he says, "I already like doing
this with you, Dylan," and after one of his awkward pauses, he adds, "Yeah,
it's exciting!" I say, "It's sexy too. Stick your tongue out a little," he
does and I do a big lap on it. Gary goes, "Ohh!"  Then I hold his head
between my hands and do some tongue laps and tongue sucks that are right up
there with the best of Willie's, who's the master at this and who taught me
how to do it. After two hot minutes I get half a boner myself, which I did
not expect. It's mostly me doing the kissing, sucking, and licking with
Gary the passive, willing partner. He's hugging around my waist, scrunching
down to my height; his head's moving around increasing the pressure on our
faces. Gary's got a, "Mmmm, mmmm, mmm," sound going for him until about a
minute after his last pronouncement he again pulls his face away, going,
"Oh, oh, oh! Wait, please. My dick's totally boned up. I can't believe how
sexy this is; you're so right about the sexy part!" That gives me the idea
to try pulling a Willie Worthington trick on my new friend here and get him
to cum in his pants. I'll bet he never thought someone could cause him to
do that, certainly not by kissing him.

Getting my hands on his ass and pulling him tight against me I say, "Get
your mouth down here, Gary, and I'll show you something else." His face is
flush, his eyes are in constant motion, he nods excitedly and lowers his
face to mine so I can really get into it. Saliva all around his mouth, chin
and nose. We go at for a couple more minutes with me massaging his skinny
ass and pressing through his Speedo at his anus. It's really a hot time and
while we're making out I feel his long boner sideways against my stomach so
I know he's feeling the heat too. We're into a thirty second French kiss
when Gary grunts into my mouth, pull away from me once more and desperately
begins groping himself, his face scrunched-up with arousal. He exhales
loudly, and pulls his boner out to pull on it with long tight strokes. His
facial expression is one of strained urgency, grunting sounds from his
throat, his crotch humping as his fist travels up and down his eight inches
of bone. I watch him stroking his long cock thinking, "That big beauty was
up my ass yesterday!" The pee slit at the head quivers sporadically, Gary
grunts, desperately, "Oh oh, yeah, yeah..." and a short spurt of cum shoots
out hard, landing about four feet away splattering against the front of his
desk; then a hissing sound from between his teeth and a violent hump of his
hips sends a long string of cum flying toward the bathroom door. He's
going, "Eeeee aaah!" followed immediately by a fast foot long shot of cum
and, while he's blubbering frantic sounds, five short and fast flying
spurts fling from his dick. His hands are a blur now, his face as dark red
as the head of his cock. Gary, breathing deeply, is now slowly and tightly
stroking his long boner, draining out the last of his creamy spunk, and
then his face relaxes as he begins coming down off his climax high.

Well, I didn't get him to cum in his pants, but this was still pretty
good. Shaking his head slowly, looking at me with glazed-over eyes, he
mutters, still out of breath, "I can hardly believe this. You made me cum
by kissing me, how can that be?" In a serious manner, I say, "It's been
clinically proven that the tongue is connected to the penis by nerve
endings and sucking someone's tongue is the same as sucking the person's
dick." Gary looks incredulous and asks, "Is that true?" I go, "No, I
lied. Making out is just sexy and hot!" He chuckles, and says, "I'm pretty
gullible sometimes, aren't I?" Gary put his dick back in his bathing suit
after a bit and sits on his bed. I move next to him, sitting Indian style
to hide my boner, and we talked about some of my experiences with past make
outs. I told about how my old boyfriend could make me cum just from sucking
my tongue and how squeezing my ass or finger fucking me at the same time
can get me into a fit of climaxing and about how I can make my current
boyfriend cum that same way. Surely there are guys who aren't as sexually
stimulated by kissing as I am, but I don't think Gary's one of them... he's
on board with it!

As I'm talking, Gary has this wonderful, happy expression on his face;
after a bit he took my hand and held it in between both of his as he
listened.  It was a sweet move and, what can I say, he's a very likable gay
friend. Later, Gary did a half-assed job of cleaning up his spunk from the
carpet and desk, after which we went downstairs to the kitchen where Gary
made us root beer floats, of all things. Damn, they were good too!  As we
sipped our floats through straws, I made small talk by asking what high
school he went to, and get this: He never went to one, he's been tutored at
home his entire life. He's never been in a school of any kind ever, so no
wonder his social skills are off. He told me his piano lessons are given
here at the house too. Now this is interesting, I ask, "Oh, you play the
piano?" He nods as if it's no big thing, "Yes, I've been playing since I
was three years old," and he goes on to tell me he has two lessons per week
and he practices between four to six hours every day! I'm like, "Whoa! What
do we have here? A child prodigy?" Garysays, "Would you like to hear me
play something? Do you play a musical instrument, Dylan?" I don't think
saying, "Just my skin flute" would be appropriate, so instead I say, "Yes
and no." He smiles and says, "Yes, you want to hear me play and no, you
don't play anything yourself.  Right?" He looked pleased with himself. He
took my hand and led me through the living room to what he calls the music
room.  In this room there are two huge pots with ferns growing out of them,
one on either side of a fireplace, two wing-back chairs, a huge black grand
piano, a large harp and two violins in stands. His mother plays the string
instruments. Smiling at me, Gary lets go of my hand, gestures for me to sit
beside him on the piano bench and begins effortlessly to play beautiful
music. His long thin fingers glide over the keys in a mesmerizing fashion,
moving in ways that mine cannot.  I don't know diddly-shit about classical
music, if that's even what he's playing, but its amazing watching someone
make the sound Gary's making by simply touching keys. He's obviously
extremely talented and the fact he's holed up here six hours a day
practicing the piano further explains his unique personality. He's
basically been isolated from peers all his life and has fashioned his
current personality from his imagination.

Garyplayed for five minutes after which I clapped heartily. He stood and
did this formal-looking bow with a serious expression on his face; he
wasn't joking. I'm sure he performs some place, but I'll let him tell me
about that when and if he wants to. I praised him with sincerity and he
accepted it graciously as if he's used to being praised. It's getting late
though so I said, "Maybe we should take off now Gary ," he goes, "Oh,
absolutely, Dylan. I can get carried away playing piano, forgive me."
Jesus, what an interesting and likable kid. We walked down steps from the
kitchen into a finished basement containing a pool table, a full-size
progressive skeeball game, and a few other arcade-type electronic games
plus two electronic pinball games. I go, "Wow!" and Gary says, like this is
a normal array of toys to have in your basement, "I like games." Through
another door is a three-car garage. There's an empty bay in the middle, a
new Mini Cooper convertible parked in the far bay, and in the bay closest
to us is a shiny black Vespa GTS 300 Super Scooter, which is more like a
smaller version of a motorcycle than a scooter. Very cool, so is the Mini
Cooper! I say, "Oh my God, Gary , you got it made, dude!" He says, "Not
really," and then does two wet kisses on my lips. He backs his head away
and, looking cute and pleased with himself, says, "I wish so badly we could
be boyfriends; you know, Mohawk boyfriends." He clutched me to him and did
another kiss, so I quietly ask, "What about Buck?" Gary took a big breath
letting go of me, saying, "We're not in love, Buck and me. We fuck
sometimes, that's about it. You and I could be madly in love though! I've
always dreamed about being in love. It would be so romantic, us being in
love. I'd take such great care of you and we could make-out all afternoon,
then I'd play the piano for you, and I'd fuck you twice a day too. It would
be so great, don't ya think?" I chuckle and say, "It sounds fabulous, Gary,
but couldn't ya maybe handle fucking me three times a day instead of two?"
He's like, "Really?" I just chuckled again and smiled at him while slowly
shaking my head "No, not rally".  Boy, he is naive. Gary says, "Oh, you
were joking again. Heh, heh. I gotta stay on my toes with you." I'm
grinning when I say, "We'd be great boyfriends, Gary. Well, except for one
small problem." He's interested, "What's that?" he asks, and he's so
serious I feel bad that I'm making a joke out of this. I say, "We live
seven hours apart, and that's by a fast moving vehicle..." Gary goes, "Oh
yeah, I guess there's that. Could you move closer, do ya think?" I laughed
a little pretending he's the one joking now, although I know he isn't
joking. I say, "Good one, Gary!"

The automatic garage door goes up and we get on the scooter, Gary first and
me second. There's one seat to share, I'm right up against Gary's back, my
crotch against his ass, my arms around his waist. "Ready?" he asks, I say,
"Lay some rubber!" and did he ever: tires squealing and smoking. This
fucking scooter is a muscle machine, it screeches down his long driveway
with Gary 's tall body hunched over the handlebars... scary fun! The ride
back to the Mohawk Piercing shop took less than ten minutes which means I'm
ten minutes early. Gary parked the scooter and we're walking through the
parking lot with him telling me, "In my experience Rene doesn't like anyone
showing up early because he's usually in the middle of an appointment." I'm
fine with that, good to know although the information won't be needed after
today. We approach the trash can where Gary stashed Rene's slippers. I grab
the slippers and as we're walking back to the parking lot, Gary says, "If
ya want, we can sit up on the boardwalk over near the beach side; I'll keep
ya company." We sit and almost immediately I notice people sneaking peeks
at the two of us, but what are ya gonna do, it's the Mohawk hairdos that
attract attention, especially Gary's... and maybe my pink nail polish too.

To pass the time Gary tells me about Buck, the twenty-one year old son of a
doctor Gary's mother shares a practice with. Buck's a little bit on the
stocky side and that's what the "fat ass" comment from Rene was
about. Mohawk man did a tattoo on Buck's ass so the "miss his fat ass"
comment was about that and had nothing to do with sex. Buck and Gary have
been doing sex together for three years, but that's all they have in
common. Other than Buck and Rene it doesn't appear Gary has any friends,
not that Rene and Buck can actually be called friends anyway, it seems more
like they're sex partners. Oh, Gary also has another fuck buddy; one of
Rene's boys. Gary's the top for the Mohawk kid, but he's a bottom for Buck
and Rene. The more I learn about Gary's life the worse I feel for him
'cause it sure doesn't sound like much of a life. He's never had a best
friend, or any kind of real friend for that matter. To further complicate
things, Gary hinted that he has a pain fetish; something Rene and Buck have
taken advantage of. That's what it sounds like to me anyway. Damn, Gary's
such a sweet kid, but it's like his mother has pretty much screwed up his
life by keeping him away from other kids his own age. No wonder he acts
differently than anyone I know.  "Umm, Gary ... ah, does your mom know
about you being gay?"  He shrugs and goes, "Yeah, I told her but she
doesn't wanna discuss it so she doesn't even know I'm what's called
sexually active. Buck got me started by fucking me when I was fifteen and
it shocked me he'd do something like that, but what shocked me even more is
how much I liked it. My mother would freak out if she knew. She monitors my
computer activity and the DVDs I watch so if it weren't for Buck I wouldn't
know shit about sex, and please pardon my language."

Man, this poor kid! There wasn't time for any more of Gary's sad tales,
though. It was four-thirty now, so I pulled Gary's t-shirt over my head,
put on the slippers, and walked in my pink panties to the Mohawk man's
backdoor where I knocked quietly.  After a minute's wait he let me
in. There was a twenty-something year old lady getting a Mohawk haircut in
his barber chair, which I sure didn't expect to see! Rene was all business
removing the bandage covering my tattoo and putting a salve of some kind
over the tattooed area. The lady couldn't see me in this part of the room
so I changed into my regular clothes as Rene whispered, "Next time you come
here tell me how you managed the last two hours dressed in pink panties and
all." Then, handing me a list of things to do to insure the tattoo heals
properly, he began ushering me out.  At the door he pinches my ass and
whispers, "I've fit you in for a five o'clock appointment a week from
tomorrow. Don't come around here until then, okay? Next Wednesday I'll
reapply the defoliating cream on your scalp to keep it totally hairless
then spank that perfect ass of yours and give you your reward of a hard
fuck after that. Five o'clock sharp!" I went outside with the door slamming
shut behind me. No way am I returning there to have my head defoliated
again... fuck that! This is too bald! I reach up and feel the strangeness
of only having a strip of hair on my head and all of a sudden the
realization hits me: It's going to be wicked embarrassing showing this
Mohawk to the people I know, even that Marsha person. Yipes! Oh well, I
made my bed and now I gotta sleep in it, but certainly not with
Marsha... ha ha! Looking over at the bench I see that Gary's gone and I'm
again surprised, surprised this time to find I'm disappointed he's
left. Then Gary yells, "Dylan!" as he's running up from the street. We do a
quick hug, and he says, "Come over to the bench, Dylan."  He's holding up a
bottle of nail polish remover that he'd just bought at the drug store. I
follow him to the bench thinking, "What a sweetheart this kid is!" He uses
tissues to help the nail polish remover do its work, first on my
fingernails and then he knelt down to get my toes. There's a group of
people across from us watching and snickering. Gary's of course obvious to
them, but I'm thinking, "Lord have mercy! Let this be over soon!"  Gary was
meticulous about getting every hint of pink off and then he offered me a
ride home. What a great guy, he's starved for a friend I guess... that's
breaking my heart, but I'm grateful for the ride.

Gary's never been in a normal social setting. His first real connection to
another boy was with Buck who seems only interested in having sex with
him. Except for Buck, there was no other person Gary could call a friend
until he somehow got hooked up with the Mohawk man, and that relationship
is also based on sex, dominant sex. Then Gary's Mohawk involvement
eventually connected him with another one of Rene's boys and their mutual
interest is also sex. From his experience Gary assumes interaction with
another boy means sex, period! When I went along with Gary yesterday, he
assumed that's what I was interested in too. Maybe I can somehow show him
friends do things together other than just have sex; sex is a component at
times, but there should be much more to a friendship. We rode his scooter
to the street leading to where my mom and Tris were situated on the
beach. Gary left me off at the top of the beach and we agreed to meet
tomorrow.  As Gary peeled out, tires screeching, I began mentally preparing
myself for the mom's reaction to my Mohawk and second earring. I'm keeping
the tattoo a secret for now; it's hidden under Gary's T-shirt which I'm
still wearing because my tank top wouldn't cover the tattoo.

Walking down the beach toward the moms I felt my face blush bright red. I
feel so conspicuous with this Mohawk and that makes me wonder, "Why the
fuck didn't I get myself a hat?" I'm halfway down the beach when my mom,
for some reason, turns and looks up in my direction. There are probably a
couple hundred people in the general vicinity of me but my mom could pick
me out of a couple of thousand people, she waves at me then and nudges Tris
who looks back and I can hear the squeal from here. Uh oh, but then two
thumbs up from the moms and then they're both rustling through their beach
bags. I'm almost there when they find their Blackberries and begin taking
my picture. Mom's saying, "I told Tris that the next time we see you you'll
have a Mohawk haircut.  Knowing you so well I could tell by the way you
asked us yesterday about Mohawks that you were going to get one." Tris
says, "It looks so cool, Dylan. You're adventurous!" Mom texted her
boyfriend Jake and he texted back saying he wants a picture so she sent one
with her Blackberry. My Mohawk rocks as far as the moms are
concerned. Neither of them even noticed my second pierced ear. We stayed on
the beach till almost six and when we finally got back to the condo we
discovered a note from Chubby saying he was eating at Marsha's house and
that he'll pick me up around seven-thirty.  Okay, so I have a short
reprieve from modeling my Mohawk for those guys. I showered and then ate
take-out lobster rolls with the moms and, oh my God, were those sandwiches
delicious. Iced tea and potato salad too, great meal at the shore!

After supper I'm feeling good. I go out to the deck for a cigarette and to
await Chubby and the girls. Then, as seven-thirty gets closer I begin
feeling nervous about the response my peers will have to my new hairdo. My
nervousness was all for naught though. Chubby came charging out to the
deck, he's always charging around anyway, yelling, "A freaking Mohawk! Let
me see it!" My mom or Tris must have told him as soon as he walked in the
door and he ran right out here to get me in a headlock rubbing my strip of
hair, saying, "How'd you ever have the guts to get this?" The girls
followed and they too thought my Mohawk was the coolest thing, or at least
that's what they said. Chubby noticed my new earring too and he wanted a
second one too. Mary Jo mumbles, "Copy cat!" Chubby says, "Dylan and I are
two peas in a pod, Mary Jo! What he's got, I want... so get used to that!"
She says, "Oh yeah? When you getting your Mohawk?" Chubby ignored that
'cause he ain't getting one. We're all on the boardwalk a little later
where we run into some girls Chubby knows from a different crowd at
school. They gave me mixed reviews about the Mohawk and then the new girls
pretend to kidnap Chubby away from Mary Jo who drops a few F-bombs on them,
but all in good fun. Later we met two guys we knew from our senior class
and they hooked up with our group for an hour or so. Both the guys thought
my Mohawk was uber cool and I felt kinda like a celebrity. So, the long and
the short of it is that the Mohawk worked out great, it's a success and I
also got to experience a fuck that I'll remember for quite some time plus I
got a cool second earring and a tattoo... all for free.  In addition to all
that positive stuff, I met a good new friend in Gary, too. Tomorrow Chubby
and the girls are driving to Atlantic City to see if they can sneak into a
casino and play the slot machines. They tried to talk me into going but I
promised Gary to meet him on the beach and I don't want to let him
down. Anyway, they'll never get in a casino. Chubby and I didn't go to bed
until after one a.m. I fell asleep quickly and therefore shortchanged
myself snuggling with Chubby.

Best part of waking up this morning was Chubby's boner. Ha ha!  He was
still sleeping but he had himself a hard four inch boner sticking out the
fly of his boxer shorts. I felt it poke my thigh so I peek under the covers
and see that hard tan beauty with its fat cock head still partially hidden
in foreskin. Damn! The head is looking long to go with it fatness. I'd love
to suck that beauty! Stifling a giggle I reached under the covers and with
just my thumb and index finger gently pull the foreskin the rest of the way
off the longish fat head completely exposing it in all its rosy pink
glory. The perfect pee slit seemed to look back at me and quiver. I giggled
quietly pushing the foreskin back over the head and then pulling it back
off. At that, Chubby turned on his side away from me without making a
sound, which pulls his boner from my fingers. No problem, all I need to do
is reach over his side to capture it again. I begin jerking him off slowly
and as his cock gains additional hardness, mine does too. My face comes
down at the back of his head so I can inhale my favorite scent,
Chubby's. He smells so boyish and it's very sexy to me. Realizing I need to
exhale I puff out a long quiet breath at the back of Chubby's head and his
body language adjusts in a way that makes me realize he's awake
now. Another quiet giggle escapes my lips as I continue whacking him off
while his boner is dripping; I feel it on my fingers. Chubby does an
exaggerated exhale and says, "Ah, Dylan bro, excuse me, but I believe
you're jerking off my dick. Did you get confused, thinking it was yours?" I
go, "Uh uh, I know it's yours 'cause mine's much longer," and I'm quietly
laughing. He says, "If you keep this up, you will need to change our sheets
'cause I don't want to sleep on stiff sheets with dried spunk on them." I
go, "I'll sleep on your side of the bed and you can sleep on mine. I like
your cum." He grunts and says, "Well, you're in luck then 'cause you're
gonna get some pretty quick!"  His cock is almost as hard as a cock can get
so I pick up the speed of my strokes. Soon Chubby goes, "Ah ah, oh oh oh!"
thrusting his hips forward; I raised my head to look over his shoulder just
in time to see his climax. It came out in fast moving short strings, four
of them about three inches long, then a two foot long thin stream which had
Chubby hissing through his teeth humping into my hand wildly. I had a real
hard boner myself by now but wasn't about to push my luck, this was cool
enough for my first step of getting Chubby back into our old-time mode of
gay stuff, followed by Chubby's rationalizations. Actually the first step
was Monday, when I took Chubby in my arms when we went to bed that
night. He didn't dare complain because of the unfortunate situation of Mary
Jo showing up in Wildwood. This playful jerk-off indicates maybe we got
some more gay play time ahead of us before this vacation is over. My goal
is simple, I want Chubby to fuck me again and I want him to want to do it
too. Well, maybe that second part's not realistic, so I'll settle for at
least the first part. I stroked his cock for a while after the climax;
Chubby finally pushes my hand away, saying, "I know you're gay, bro. You've
told me all about it quite a few times already! So, ya know, you don't need
to prove it every day." I mumble, "Do so," and he goes, "Do not," and I go,
"So!" We did that until even I was bored with it and then we got up to
share the bathroom doing our morning rituals. And, for the record... I only
told him once that I was gay, not "quite a few times already" like Chubby
said.

While we're in the bathroom, Chubby saw my tattoo and screamed, "That's so
fucking cool!" I'd forgotten all about it. He's pointing to the tattoo as
I'm trying to act nonchalant, saying, "Oh that. Yeah, I got the urge
yesterday to get a little tat commemorating my life long fascination with
four leaf clovers."  He goes, "You asshole! We need to do stuff like this
together! I'm getting one too, where'd ya get it?" I didn't want Chubby
going near the Mohawk man so I told him I got it at the 34th street tattoo
parlor. "Don't let the moms see yours, Dylan. I mean, not until I get mine,
okay?" Ya know, everything from yesterday's adventure in the Mohawk
Piercing shop has turned out pretty good for me; hell, it's turned out
great! Everyone likes my Mohawk and Chubby's especially impressed I had the
guts to do it, the same for my second earring, and now he thinks the tattoo
is awesome as well. Last night on the boardwalk, Chubby backed off his
position of getting a second earring for himself, although he still thinks
both ears pierced looks cool on me.  I'm not convinced about it yet
myself. Just because both ears are pierced doesn't mean I need to wear an
earring in both; I'm thinking about it and so far I'm still leaning toward
wearing both, but it's not final. Even though everything that happened in
the Mohawk Piercing shop couldn't have turned out any better, with the
exception of the spanking, I'm not going to press my luck about that
place. As far as I'm concerned there isn't any reason to ever go in there
again. I got my curiosity about the Mohawk man's hard fucking technique
totally satisfied yesterday, I'm good with that forever so that's the end
of it. Bet he misses me though! Ha!

After we got dressed and ate our breakfast Chubby and I carried our coffees
to the deck to share a cigarette. I was wearing my baggy boardies and a
regular t-shirt that hid my tat.  Chubby tried again to get me to go to
Atlantic City with him and the girls and again I declined. He mumbled,
"That goddamn Mary Jo and her surprise visit! I want to hang out with you,
Dylan. You're doing all this cool shit while I'm making small talk with two
girls.  Damn! Come with me to Atlantic City, it'll be cool!" I wouldn't
give in though and he stomps off saying, "You're so stubborn! I told you it
wasn't my idea to have her come to Wildwood so why take it out on me? I
didn't even know she was coming till Friday night." I feel bad for him now
so I yell, "Tomorrow Chubby! I'll spend all day Thursday with you and the
girls, okay?" He poked his head back out on the deck squinting his cute
eyes like he hoped I wasn't bull-shitting him, and mutters, "Really?" I go,
"Scout's honor," he says, "That's better, especially after I let you jerk
me off, it's the least you can do." I put my finger to my lips going,
"Shhhh! For Christ sakes!" He laughs and says, "They're in the bedroom,
they can't hear me." Then he shoots me with his index finger, smirks coolly
and then smiles my favorite smile; he's so beautiful when he smiles at me
like that. I love him so, but I promised Gary I'd meet him, and that poor
boy badly needs a friend. I sat on the deck alone for awhile, feeling good
about myself.  I took a big chance yesterday and it worked out much better
than most things work out for me. Especially in Chubby's eyes, he wants to
hang with me again because now he's impressed with the way I've gotten so
adventuresome. Was I more exciting in the past? I mean, to Chubby's way of
thinking... hmmm?

I'm not sure how I've changed over the past eighteen months... that line of
thinking led me to wonder about Robby and how he seems to have
changed. Here's something weird too, when I'm thinking about Robby I'm
surprised, shocked actually, to find I'm not as mad at him today as I was
yesterday. Curiosity has replaced most of my anger and disappointment with
him. Maybe there's an explanation... he did tell me last week that he loved
me and that I should always remember that, no matter what. At the time, I
thought he was referring to some untoward dalliance of mine, but now I
wonder if he might have been referring to one or more of his own. We've had
an open relationship from the start. Well, I had two boyfriends and, ya
know, maybe a rare buddy sex episode on the side, but I always assumed
Robby was, well, monogamous. Whatever, there's no sense me pretending I
don't like him because I do... I love him actually, and I miss him. Why the
hell did I screw up with my cell phone? I need to find a way to at least
connect with him. Hell, he doesn't know I saw him going at it in the garage
so he must be wondering why I haven't gotten in touch with him. This new
line of thinking about Robby made me feel a little better about things, but
I still want to continue my adventures here in Wildwood. And I feel I'm
really helping a friend too, my new friend Gary. I'd be crazy not to
continue with what I've been doing 'cause my aggressive style's been uber
successful so far, everything I'm doing is turning out right. Then I
chuckled to myself, thinking, "Don't break your fucking arm patting
yourself on the back!"  Putting my cigarette out, a puzzling thing occurred
to me: Why is it that gay guys feel they're doing me a favor by letting me
suck their cock? Hell, even Gary had said something about me sucking his
cock after which he'd fuck my face for me, like that's a thrill for
me. Well, it kinda is but I'm just saying.  Others seem to think me letting
them fuck me is me doing myself a favor, and then just this morning Chubby
acts like he did me a favor by letting me jerk him off when he's the one
with the huge climax!  Hmmm, life is mysterious sometimes, ain't it?

Around ten o'clock Wednesday morning, I'm once again lugging our chairs
down to the beach.  My mom's walking next to me toting her big beach bag
that contains many items she never uses but likes to have with her for some
reason... ditto for Tris, Chubby's mom. The moms are explaining that
they're going on an afternoon cocktail cruise later today which concludes
after midnight so Chubby and I will be on our own for dinner. From what I
can gather, the moms' main goal for the harbor cruise is to pick up two
cute single guys and dance the night away and then, who knows, maybe
they'll get lucky. Ugh! Hey, I guess everyone needs goals. I've got mine
too. I smile at the two of them, both moms are fun-loving ladies, always
bubbly, upbeat and positive and they look pretty good for being in their
mid-thirties too. They're great moms and I wish them luck, but I also
reminded them that they have boyfriends back home. Tris says, "Yes Dylan
honey, you're quite right and, by the way, there's no need to mention to
the guys about this girls' night out your mom and me are going on, now is
there?" I go, "No ma'am, none that I can think of." On the beach a little
later I'm again renting the umbrella for the moms. Today the sixteen year
old beach stand kid is waiting on me while the surly thirteen year old is
snarling at an old couple who only want chairs for half the day so they
don't want to have to pay the full rental price. You gotta love the
seniors, always looking for a discount or something, and good luck to them
in their dealings with Grumpy. The older boy was okay, but he did not show
me the killer smile he was showing that girl on Monday; he did however hump
the umbrella down the beach to where the moms were sitting and he did get
the umbrella up without my help. Then, he turned on his killer smile for
the moms as he stood there waiting for a tip.  They get all flustered
trying to be the one giving him the tip while I purposely get real clumsy
trying to get by him and we collide briefly; let me tell you, this kid has
a tight body, he's hot even though the only cute thing about him is his
smile.

There are a few cute mid-teen boys in the vicinity this morning which is
enough to keep me interested and when two of them go in for a swim I
follow.  My plan is to body surf into them, maybe feeling them up a little
just to be a pervert and then apologize like mad afterward, pretending it
was all an accident. The boys weren't friendly at all when I executed my
plan to perfection, getting the older kid with the ski nose a good squeeze
on the ass to boot. His reaction was to scream, "What the fuck's wrong with
you?" I go, "What the fuck ya talking about? Hey, is that a nose job?" My
aggressiveness backed him off as he whined, "I was in a car accident!" and
I go, "Sure you were." They waded away and I was forced to abandon my plan,
and instead I sunbathed. It was easy keeping my tattoo hidden from the moms
because they had no reason to check my upper arm, which I kept away from
them anyway, plus I kept my t-shirt on when I wasn't swimming. The tattoo
is healing nicely and I love it! Those boys hadn't taken to me at all which
is the first thing that hasn't gone my way since I adopted this adventurous
style. Hmmm, I gave that a little thought and decided my Mohawk haircut was
probably too extreme for them... too threatening.  Or, more likely, they're
straight kids who don't appreciate another boy floating into them and
goosing their ass, even someone as cute as me if you can imagine that.

Around eleven I told the moms I was taking off for a walk and then lazily
walked up the beach to rendezvous with Gary . My hole was still sore from
the pounding Mohawk man laid on it yesterday, so I don't think I want
Gary's long cock up there today; I'm up for some type of sexual
stimulation, just not that type. Oral sex maybe 'cause I still got my
Wildwood goal of sex everyday... ha ha!  Walking along I'm checking out the
boys on the beach, but there's nothing real special today. I mean, there
are two or three that I'd like to say "Hi!" to, but I'm not good at
that. Maybe a better way of putting that is, "There's two or three I wish
would say 'Hi! to me." The other thing is, I'm getting used to being gawked
at as the Mohawk hairdo always attracts attention... you don't see many
kids with a Mohawk. I tried smiling at one of the cuter boys when I caught
him gawking at me, but he turned away immediately. When someone makes eye
contact with me that's what I usually do too, so this boy's action is
certainly understandable. Then I see Gary way down the beach walking
towards me. Guess he couldn't wait for me to get to him and that's nice. He
sees me now and does the secret salute and I do it back to him and he gives
me his big smile. Damn, I really like him! When we're within shouting
distance, Gary yells, "I was worried that you forgot." Jeez, about ten
people looked up at him, and then they looked in my direction and know
right away who Gary's yelling to... me, the other Mohawk boy, of course. I
guess I'm not as used to getting gawked at as I thought I was. I gotta get
more oblivious, like Gary . Oh hell, let's face it, I'm way too
self-conscious to be running around with this hairdo. Gary did some long
loping strides and was soon right in front of me. I held out my fist to do
a fist bump but he wraps his arms around me instead and kisses me on the
mouth.  Jesus! I gotta talk to this boy about acting cool in public.  He
doesn't know any better though, so I need be careful about hurting his
feelings here. Looking around at all the people whispering behind their
hands, I decide to save my lecture to Gary for later and mumble, "Hey,
Gary, 'sup?" Right away he's got his arm around my neck again looking happy
and, like I said before, his excitement at me being his friend is enough to
break your heart. Somehow I made myself block out all the people staring
open-mouthed at us and walk up the beach with Gary, my arm around the back
of his waist like yesterday on the boardwalk. What the hell, eventually
maybe these people will get used to seeing us like this.

Here's something new too: Gary isn't wearing the nose piercing today and it
makes a lot of difference in his appearance. Of course, hardly anyone
looking at Gary gets past the Mohawk, so they probably don't even notice
the piercing. I do though, and he looks much better without them. Gary's
excited, "I couldn't wait to see you, Dylan; that's why I walked down to
meet you. You look so phat with that Mohawk!" I say, "Um, Gary, we've
become friends now, do you think maybe we could walk side by side instead
of, you know, this way?" He laughs and says, "I can tell you're
self-conscious of what strangers think, but you really shouldn't be. We're
not hurting them; they don't even need to look at us if they don't care
to. And anyway, I like hugging around your neck. Do you really mind?"
Actually, I do, but say, "Nah, meep them if they don't like it." He goes,
"Meep?" Explaining "meep" to him, I rambled on about a guy I work with and
blah, blah, blah. Gary 's always interested in whatever I say so he gives
me his undivided attention, which isn't the case with many kids. When I'm
done talking he expresses to me how much he wishes he could have a job like
me, he'd love to work someplace, anyplace; he thinks it would be fun to get
out and meet people, but his mother forbids it. Then he gets even more
excited telling me about how he's going away to college in less than a
month and how he'll then finally get out from under his mother's thumb, so
ta speak. I'm more than a little surprised he got accepted to a college, I
say, "That's awesome! Which school you going to, Gary?" He says, "Oh, I got
a full scholarship to go to Berkley. That's in Boston, Massachusetts." I
yell, "No meeping way!" and he says, "Yes, meeping way! It's a famous music
college that's hard to get into!" Then I tell him where I live and about me
going to Merrimack College in North Andover which is about thirty-five
minutes from Boston. He gets wicked excited and stops to hug me with both
arms around my neck right on the beach in the middle of hundreds of people,
saying, "Oh my God, we can be friends in Boston!" He's standing right on
someone's vacated beach towel. I spot this heavyset woman hustling up from
the water and I just know it's her towel.  "Ah, Gary, can we walk while we
talk?" He smiles and says, "Sure!" and away we go discussing, first the
unbelievable coincidence of us going to college twenty-some miles apart,
and then the possibilities of us getting together and the fun we can
have. I'm thinking how happy I am for him, but also how this turn of events
might complicate my life. Oh, never mind that, by far the most important
thing is that it'll be good for Gary. He told me the only thing he'll miss
is his Mohawk.  He's decided to give it up because Rene won't be available
to take care of it when Gary's at college. I'm thinking that that's a good
thing, although, come to think of it, there are some very original looking
kids going to Berkley. Gary will not be the only unique student there by a
long shot, and I mean that in the kindest way. More importantly, he should
be able to find kindred spirits as friends there too. The very talented
tend to be eccentric... that's all I'm inferring.

As we walked, it's weird but I felt a huge weight has been lifted from my
shoulders. I've been feeling so bad for Gary and now I don't need to as
he's going to be fine at Berkley. Berkley may be the best college in the
whole world for him so, feeling really good for him, I stop this time to
hug him, and whoop out, "I'm happy for you, Gary!" Then, I laugh at myself
because I just did the same thing Gary did in the middle of all these
people; his obliviousness is rubbing off on me. Gary says, as if it just
occurred to him, "You're the first real friend I've ever had, Dylan. Do ya
think I can make friends at Berkley ?" I go, "Absolutely, you'll be
popular!" He hugs back and excitedly says, "I can't wait!" Someone with a
big deep voice from down near the water yells, "Get a room, why don'tcha?"
Gary mutters, "Why don't you go fuck yourself!" and I burst out laughing
'cause first of all I didn't think he noticed anything going on around us,
and secondly it seems so out of character for Gary to tell someone to go
fuck themselves. I say, "Good for you, Gary! Whaddya wanna do now?" We
start walking again, his arm still around my neck.  He says, "I thought we
were going to the public lavatory. Aren't we?" He thinks that's what
friends do, fuck each other. Well, yeah, they do if they're gay, but they
do other stuff too. Anyway, that lavatory was a tad too yucky for me, so I
say, "How 'bout your house instead?" He's like, "Why didn't I think of
that. My scooter's parked in the parking lot behind the Mohawk Piercing
shop; we can ride to my place. That sounds like fun, doesn't it?" I'm like,
"Yeah, it does, but my bum may still be a little too sore for company." He
chuckles and says, "Maybe we can think of something else. How's your dick
feel?" Jeez, I think I've finally found a boy who has the same hot sex
drive that I have. I say, "Funny you should ask Gary, my dick feels fine."
He replies, "And so does my ass.  Hmmm, I think we're zeroing in on
something." I've been wondering about something, and since Gary's a lot
more glib today, I took a chance and asked, "Your ass is fine, huh? Makes
me wonder how your date with Buck went Monday night.  If that's not too
personal?" He shrugs and says, "He stood me up. I'm kind of his back up; he
sets a date for us and if nothing better comes along he keeps it." What a
prick Buck is, I say, "And if something better comes his way, he doesn't
keep it. Is that it?" Gary looked embarrassed for the first time since I've
known him, he mumbles, "Yeah, pretty much." I go, "Well, he sucks, Gary!
You shouldn't let anyone treat you that way." He shrugs again, but doesn't
reply. None of my business anyway, I guess. We continue to shuffle through
the sand in silence.

Off the beach and away from the ocean it's stifling hot, but riding on the
scooter creates a little breeze and Gary's house is air-conditioned, over
air-conditioned actually, so we'll survive. Shaking off the depressing
feelings brought on by the cruel way this Buck asshole treats Gary, I
manage to slip back into my earlier upbeat frame of mind. After of all,
things are going my way lately and that hasn't been the case until
now. Gary parks the scooter in his driveway next to the brick path to the
front door and we hop off. Trying out a bit of my new take charge approach,
I'm like, "How about we get naked and mess around like that?" We're walking
through his front door when I suggest that; Gary stops halfway in, raises
his eyebrows in surprise, and goes "Gee, I never did that before, Dylan,"
and he's not being sarcastic, he's serious. Can I believe this? I ask him,
"You say you've never had naked sex?" He shakes his head "no" and I add,
"Not in your whole life?" Gary says, "Well, almost naked. You know, I was
only wearing my Speedo and flip flops in the lavatory on Monday when we
fucked; that's almost naked. But never totally naked, no." I ask, "Well, do
you wanna try it?" He's like, "Oh yeah, with you, definitely. Oh, wait a
minute!  Rene made me get totally naked way back when he first initiated
me; he wasn't naked, but I was."

We walk though the house the same way we did yesterday and go up to his
bedroom where we drop our swimsuits and pull our t-shirts over our heads,
step out of our sandals and, ta da, we're naked. The first thing I notice
is Gary's ass. It's pink and hairless and kinda skinny, but inviting. The
interesting part is the hairless part. Gary has a lot of pubic hair, but
nothing on his ass, which is rare. I've seen a lot of asses in high school
gym showers and by the time boys are seniors most of them have some hair
around their ass crack, although not all of them. The ones that have none
usually have sparse pubes like me... well, when they're not shaved mine are
sparse. I go, "Nice ass, Gary!" He says, "Thank you, but you're the one
with the nice ass. I dreamed about fucking your ass last night and woke up
with one of those nocturnal emission things. What a mess... ha ha!"  Gary's
noticeably more relaxed today, acting kinda normal except he's standing
close to me, right in front of me actually. I look up to his six foot,
two-inch height and then my eyes follow his Mohawk up further and he seems
so tall. He's looking nice though, cute even; a unique cute. He has a
dreamy look in his eyes as he's casually sliding his hands across my belly
and up to cup both my nipples, murmuring, "Boy, you got nice smooth, tight
skin. Feels sexy as hell." He's biting his bottom lip concentrating on my
body, his hands reach around to rub my buns, then squeezethem. "Ahh, this
is the ass I dreamed about," he quietly says, almost to himself, as he's
drawing a finger up between my buttocks, pressing on my anus as he passes
over it. I get shivers and my hands reach out to rest on his hips. I'm
staring at Gary's dark eyes which are focused on my body; he seems to sense
something and makes quick eye contact, then goes, "Oh!" and sort of snaps
out of his reverie. He straightens up letting go of my ass and steps back
mumbling, "Oh, I'm embarrassed. Sorry for fondling you like that,
Dylan. I'm just... that is, er, I mean, you've got a special body. Ya
know?" I say, "Don't be embarrassed, I'm flattered." He says, "The guys I
fuck with aren't nearly... um, special, like you. They don't look like you
or act nice like you... they're not anything like you so just now I got
carried away, I'm really sorry." I tried to lighten things up, "Hey, don't
be sorry. Here's an idea Gary, shall we do something sexy? I mean, since
we're already naked, ya know?"  He's nodding his head, chuckling and
seeming to relax again as he says, "Yeah, why don't we. What should we do
first?"

Remembering him saying he likes a little pain, I asked, "You want a
spanking?" Gary doesn't seem pleased, but says, "If you want to. They
always do." Now, what the hell's that mean?  I ask, "You don't like to be
spanked?" He explains that he says he does because that's what he thinks
he's supposed to say.  Buck convinced Gary that pain is part of the sexual
experience a couple of years ago and he, Gary, has accepted it with all
three of his sex partners. I say, "But you don't like it, right?" He looks
away and nods that he doesn't, then says, "I know I do things others want
me to, but they're all I got and they like spanking me so what can I do?
Hell, you must know that from Rene, right, Dylan?" I go, "Yeah, and I guess
some spanking is okay, but it should be your choice." Gary quietly mutters,
"Yeah, I kinda know that, but ya know..." Then he acts determined when he
says, "At Berkley I'm turning over a new leaf. I'm not agreeing to stuff
unless I like it! " This poor kid is a real victim and his mother set him
up for all this by overprotecting her piano protege, keeping him isolated
without a role model or peers to learn from and therefore he's became
vulnerable to predators like Buck. I cannot even believe she's a child
psychiatrist! Gary's gotta be mistaken about that! I say, "I'm not going to
spank you unless you insist I do it. I was just trying to accommodate a
fetish I thought you said you had. I'm glad you don't have it!" He's quiet
with a look of gratitude on his face as if I'm doing him some great favor,
which of course, I'm not. Finally he says, "Can we do the make out? You
know, before you fuck me." He says these things straight out like that
instead of softening it like "before we have sex" or something like that. I
answer, "Sure, that's the way it's usually done, ya know." Gary grumbles,
"That hasn't been my experience." He's grinning now at least, and his whole
demeanor has at times today been looser than it's been any time since I've
known him. I feel real good about that... like I've maybe helped him
somehow.  Cupping behind his head to pull it down to my level I kiss his
lips pretty much the way we started yesterday and, like yesterday, our
make-out begins tentatively but Gary is soon fully participating and we end
up doing a hot and heavy make-out that goes on for eight or ten minutes and
results in a couple of hard boners. Mine's not sticking straight out, but
it's plenty hard and feeling fine. Gary's cock is simply too long to ever
stick straight out but it too is plenty hard; he's been stroking it as
we're making-out. It's sticking up between us, next to mine, and Gary's
been sliding his tight fist from the head to the root all through our long
French kiss; I feel the back of his knuckles rub up and down the shaft of
my boner as he's stroking his. Gary's making breathy sounds of arousal
through his nose during our make-out and I'm thinking "This kid is
definitely in my sex-o-maniac league!"

After an especially hot tongue lap, Gary gasps, "Whee, oh that's my
favorite!" He's so uninhibited at times. Some more tongue laps, then Gary
pulls his head away to take deep breaths, still stroking his long organ. He
breathlessly mumbles, "Oh, I felt the beginnings of climax just then,
Dylan. Jesus, I never dreamed kissing and sucking and licking could be so
sexy." I take a deep breath, nodding in agreement, thinking we maybe better
move on before he has another one of those early make-out climaxes. I ask,
"You always use a condom, right, Gary? I'm not being critical or anything,
just checking." He goes, "Well yeah, I always use one, don't you?  I mean,
I read somewhere to always wear a condom to prevent pregnancy and
transmittable diseases." He recited that as if he'd memorized it. I go,
"Yeah, sure, that makes a lot of sense. Ah, can we use one of yours?" He's
playing with himself, the tip of his pink tongue just showing between his
lips. Even when he's sexually excited, he still has these quiet periods
where he seems to be considering something. After ten seconds he says,
"Yeah, you can use one of my condoms but the way you sounded when you asked
for one makes me think you'd rather not use one." Very perceptive of him. I
say, "Whatever you're comfortable with. The unprotected sex I've had has
been with safe boys and since you've never had unprotected sex, we could
get daring and go in bareback, but only if you're good with it." He's
nodding his head up and down, saying, "I always wondered if it feels
different."

Well let me tell you, I'm excited now myself because I haven't been doing
any screwing lately and Gary's pink ass is looking hotter by the minute. I
try speaking but it comes out as a gulp. Swallowing I mutter, "Ya got any
lube?" He didn't but we used the lube from a condom, me pushing the lubed
condom up his hole with a finger inside it. His hole is not especially
tight on my finger so I gotta believe the Mohawk man has opened Gary up
some and probably his fuck buddy, Buck, has too.  Gary will probably need
to ask me if I'm in him yet. "Ha ha," I chuckle, and Gary gives me a
quizzical look.  I swear this tall kid gets cuter every time I look at
him. Getting his face between my hands I say, "Oh, it's nothing, dude!" and
give him a wet juicy kiss, then reach down and stroke his long cock for
him. Damn, maybe I could take a little of this up my ass today after all;
it's not a fat cock, just long. I bend over and take it in my mouth to suck
the head a little bit. Both his hands go to my head, rubbing my scalp and
Mohawk hair as he slowly rotates his hips, moaning. "Ahh oh, Dylan, that's
good!" I'm sucking him while reaching around to stick a finger up his
slippery ass, he arches his back and blows a lot of air out squeezing the
back of my neck. "Ahhhh! Man!" and then I taste the precum so I take his
cock out, stroke it for him as I'm standing up, and ask, "How do you want
it, Gary." He says, "I prefer doggy style. Do you mind?" I go, "Hell, no!"
He gets right down on all fours with his ass pushed-up at me in an
exaggerated manner. He's been instructed by someone, probably that prick
Buck, about keeping his ass up. Buck probably calls it a pussy like so many
dominant tops do.

Whatever you call it, it's begging to be mounted and mount it I do. I got
the head of my boner poking right at his anus and do a hard hump pushing
past his sphincter and my cock goes up his ass five inches, then the last
inch went in slowly, accompanied by an "Ow!" from Gary. It was tighter than
I thought it would be. Maybe you can't stretch an asshole after all. I
pulled back almost all the way out and push back in while quietly moaning,
"Ahhhhhh yeah!"  I gotta do more of this; it feels so good... really,
really good! Holding my breath I hump in and out maybe six times and my
whole body shuddered while a shiver ran down my back. My dick is alive with
fabulous pre-climax feelings as I fuck that skinny ass fast for two minutes
then come to a complete stop just on the edge of blowing my load. Whoa! I'd
forgotten how hot it is to fuck a boy's ass... I don't want to pop off too
soon. Deliberately pushing slowly all the way back up inside him, I ask,
"You okay, Gary?" He's been doing the "Ahhh!" sound with each
penetration. Gary nods his head that he's good, then breathlessly says,
"I'm just about to cum. It feels so good being fucked by you, Dylan... you
don't hurt me like they do, this is the best feeling ever. Fuck me faster,
Dylan, I really need to cum." I'm thinking about all that spunk this boy
shoots off, so I say, "How would you like to cum inside me? You know,
bareback." He takes a big breath and says, "Can I? Would that be okay? It
will be a first for me." I'm pulling out, my boner's as hard as a plumber's
pipe, dripping like one too. I wipe some lube off his ass with a finger and
reach back to wipe it on my hole, then some lube from my boner to push up
my hole, as I'm saying. "Sure it's okay, I'd like it."

As I'm lubing myself up, Gary staggers to his feet, his cock's dripping
too, which is gonna help with the lube. He's rubbing his eye with the back
of his knuckle like a little kid does and at the same time pulling on his
pud with his other hand like a big kid does, giving me a little grin while
he's doing it and mouthing, "This is fabulous!"  I grin and get down on all
fours pushing my ass up in his direction with high expectation. Gary
doesn't hesitate, he pokes the head of his cock inside me with a solid
thrust and, at the same time, we both go, "Ohhhh, fuck!" It made us laugh
that we said the exact same thing at the exact same time. Gary isn't shy
about fucking; he fucked my ass with seven inch strokes at a quick even
pace, and it was feeling fantastic. His knees are bent and his hips are
loose, he's real coordinated; he's like a human precision machine driving
his rock hard cock smoothly up and back in my rectum. I began muttering,
"Yes! Yes!" with every slide of his hard boner up inside me. It didn't take
us three minutes, we were both ready to blow anyway... he beat me to climax
by two seconds; his frantic grunts while shooting big loads of cum up my
ass was all the notice my nuts needed to fire spunk up and out the head of
my boner. Gary poured cum up my ass like I've never experienced
before. Maybe it has something to do with his nuts being stretched?
Whatever, this boy produces a big load of cum.  Its uber squishing in my
hole resulting in some of the spunk coming right back out to run down my
legs. The feeling of all that cum up my ass has me rocking up off my knees,
my own cum streaking from my dick's head, burning my pee-hole with the
force of its exit. Three nice strings of cum. I squealed embarrassingly
with each one which had Gary quietly giggling. He kept humping my ass but
it quickly became too sore again so I asked him to stop and he pulled right
out. When he did, another cascade of his spunk rolled out of my hole and
down my legs. "Oh my God!" Gary exclaims as he's standing up, "that's the
best I ever climaxed! Going bareback is the best!" I'm getting up feeling
my bum as I do; it's opened up pretty wide back there with spunk still
drooling out. "Ya sure spunk a lot, Gary. It's awesome!" He's chuckling
saying, "Oh my God!" again as we're walking into his bathroom. My ass is
just about as sore as it was after Rene worked it over, but it's all
okay. It's great getting laid, and I like Gary, but there's no love
involved like there is with Robby. Then I'm like, "Why are you thinking
about that right now? Hey, dope! Enjoy the moment you're in!"

Garyhelped clean up the back of my legs and then he stuck a tissue in my
anus to absorb late dripping. We both cleaned our cocks and then got our
bathing suits back on, exchanging grins. This was hot except I probably
should have let my ass heal completely before offering it up to Gary .
Downstairs in the kitchen we're congratulating each other on fucking good!
I didn't dampen the moment by complaining about my sore ass but I was
walking funny. I've a sore bumper, I'm walking funny, and it's too cold in
this damn house. Other than these small complaints, everything is A-OK! The
coolness of the air-conditioning makes me shiver and wrap my arms around
myself. Gary says, "You're right, Dylan, it's cold in here. The
air-conditioner is always cranked up 'cause mother insists we keep the
temperature in here at 68 degrees." Gary got me one of his sweatshirts with
a hood and I put it on. I liked wearing it with the hood up and he seems to
like me in it too. He smiled so nicely and hugged me; I hugged him back and
we did that, without talking, for about a minute. I'm thinking how my
troubles seem minor compared to Gary's friendless, lonely life with this
odd mother of his and with the few guys he does knows constantly taking
advantage of him or just plain dissing him. Damn, it's like I've said a
dozen times, it's heartbreaking. On the positive side, there's now hope for
his future because he's going to Berkley College. After the hug we got
Pepsi-Colas and retuned to his bedroom, me still wearing the hoodie. I'd
been curious how it would feel to have the amount of cum I saw Gary shoot
jerking off yesterday up my ass, now I know how good it feels and I guess
it's worth an aching asshole. When we were through with our drinks, Gary
got his arm around my neck again while looking me in the eyes to be sure
it's alright to do it, and then we lay back on his big bed with him hugging
me against him while doing his humming thing. It was that Monday, Monday
song by those two guys he told me about, I forget their names. It's so
peaceful I dozed off for a few minutes.

What woke me was a cell phone ringing and Gary answering. "Yes, mother I'm
practicing the piano. I know, I know! I'll be ready, don't worry." Then
he's quiet for a second before, "What? When?" and finally after a few
seconds more, "Okay, I'll meet you there at four," and he broke the
connection. I had this urge to borrow Gary 's cell so I can call Robby, but
I don't want to have a conversation with Robby with Gary right here. Gary
says, "That was my mother. We're going to New York City later today. I'm in
a piano competition there and if I keep progressing through the different
rounds of competition, I'll be there until Sunday." I go, "Wow! That's so
cool, Gary!" He's not real excited about it though, he says, "Yeah, I
guess.  It's funny, I used to be excited about this competition, but now
that I've finally made a real friend I don't want to go." He actually has a
tear in his eye. I looked on with a sympathetic expression, but can't think
of anything helpful to say. Then, Gary tries smiling, saying, "But I need
to go, so... that's what I'll do. I'll miss you though." We lay back on the
bed again and he talked for quite awhile about his piano playing before we
wandered downstairs to his finished basement where we played with his
expensive toys for an hour or more. As we're playing, Gary told me how his
father owns a manufacturing plant in India, and that he's rich. His mother
got a huge settlement from the divorce which is how she affords all this
stuff: the house, the tutors, the cars, the everything. He tells me she
doesn't make a lot of money from her medical practice, it just that she
loves doing it. I'm not surprised she doesn't make much money... ya know,
'cause what kind of child psychiatrist raises a kid the way Gary's been
raised?

We eventually went back upstairs so I could get my t-shirt. In his bedroom
Gary nudged my head with his head which led to some casual making out which
led to some serious making out which led to me fucking him doggy style till
we both had our second climaxes. Gary got a mantra going for himself this
time too; a quiet, "Yeah.." with each drive up his ass. It felt so good to
climax in a boy's ass again! I promised myself to do this more often. Okay,
I like being a bottom best, but I like being the top a lot too. Gay sex
rocks! There's nothing better, except love. We are certainly not in love,
as I've mentioned, but we really have come to like each other. It's very
good buddy sex and the fact it's been this successful reinforces confidence
in myself. I'm fairly confident that I'll be able to make it okay even if I
must move on from Robby and his brother. The thought of losing them as
friends makes me very sad though, and losing a boyfriend I still love is a
terrible thought, but if it comes to that... you know, I'll be sort of
okay. Then for the tenth time I wondered if maybe I can just forget what I
saw in the garage? And after thinking about it for a few seconds I get the
same answer I always get, "No, it's not possible to do that!"  Gary's voice
intrudes on my daydreaming, "What are you thinking about, Dylan? You have
this far away look in your eyes." We'd been getting dressed and I'd drifted
off into my head for a few seconds.  I do a quick smile and tell him, "Oh,
it's nothing. Ha ha. I get accused of spacing out sometimes." To that Gary
does what he always does, he smiled and nods his head as if I just gave him
a great answer, as if I'd explained everything. He's very agreeable.

I rode again on the back of that power scooter as Gary roared down his
driveway and onto some back roads that eventually led us to the street at
the top of the beach where my mom and Tris were sunbathing. We did a hug
goodbye as Gary mumbles that he'll see me on Monday. We're going to
rendezvous at our usual spot around eleven o'clock, but if he gets back
sooner he'll walk down to this spot on the beach. I wave goodbye as he did
a wheelie and sped away. Then, after buying three ice-cold lemonades from a
vendor on the street, I carry them down the beach to the moms. They were
real excited about the lemonades. It made me chuckle because the moms get
real excited about anything Chubby or I do; I could have brought them
scalding hot cups of coffee and they'd find a reason that it's great
drinking hot coffee in ninety degree heat on the beach. I did some
sunbathing, took a dip in the ocean and chatted with the moms. They left
around three-thirty to get cleaned up for the cruise and, surprisingly, I
enjoyed the solitude. Not silent solitude of course 'cause there's always
ocean sounds in the background and seagulls squawking along with the sound
of kids laughing and yelling which all blends together to be an
indistinguishable buzzing noise that put me into a contemplative frame of
mind. Nothing out of the ordinary happened as I sat there enjoying my
solitude, and it would have been boring under most circumstances except so
much has happened since getting to Wildwood I'm happy for this down time. I
was thinking about Robby and enjoying my relaxed sexual state of mind,
thanks to Gary. The buzz of background noise and the unceasing glare of the
sun had me closing my eyes and it all finally lulled me into a
nap. Relaxing time for me and what a great feeling to not be horny. All it
takes is a couple of fucks per day to keep me happy; that's not too much to
expect, is it?

Back at the condo later I discover the moms have gone and Chubby's out
somewhere as well so I take a long shower and after that, grab a beer and
go out on the deck wearing nothing but baggy shorts and sandals, to smoke a
cigarette. I'm feeling good, real good, but I could be better; it's the
Robby thing nagging at the back of my mind. What to do about that? In a
dreamy lazy mood I'm enjoying the pleasant weather made possible by a good
breeze today, and contemplate what to do about me and Robby. Before I can
arrive at any kind of conclusion Chubby explodes onto the deck yelling,
"Dylan bro, look at this!" He's got the sleeve of his t-shirt pulled up to
the top of his shoulder exposing a tattoo. He's beaming with pride! The
tattoo is the same size as mine, it's a four leaf clover like mine, with
"Lucky Chubby" next to the clover. He says, "Mary Jo wanted me to get
"Jeffrey" but it's supposed to show our solidarity as best buds ever, you
and me, and you don't call me Jeffrey so I got them to tattoo "Chubby". How
do ya like it?" I go, "Awesome! Where'd ya ever get the idea for the four
leaf clover though?"  He laughs and we do a quick hug. He's really excited
about it so I dropped the teasing. We both grab a Beck's light and share a
cigarette on the deck while he tells me all about it. He got his tattoo on
the Atlantic City boardwalk after he and the girls were thrown out of both
casinos that they tried to play slot machines in... you need to be
twenty-one to play a slot machine in New Jersey. Chubby tells me that the
boardwalk in Atlantic City sucks compared to Wildwood's. The three of them
walked it for a while looking for some fun before getting bored and
beginning the drive back here. On the way back they stopped for something
to eat and shortly after that Marsha got deathly ill; they think it's from
the clam chowder 'cause Marsha's the only one who had that. The girls are
staying in at the house tonight, Mary Jo's nursing Marsha. After telling me
about it, Chubby goes, "So it's you and me buddy. Just the two of us!" We
bump fists, then jump up and hug again with Chubby pulling away to say, "Oh
my God, what am I doing? You're making me act so gay!" I go, "Yippee, it's
working!" He laughs and it's apparent to me that Chubby's in the best mood
he's been in for weeks, months maybe; could it be because he's free of Mary
Jo for a night? Hmmm? Oh, hell... I don't care why he's in a great mood,
I'm just happy about it; we're gonna have a good time.

We both wore tank tops to the boardwalk tonight so our tats would be
visible. As we walked among thousands of people of all shapes sizes,
nationality etc. etc., I had to laugh to myself because I got this picture
in my head of me walking with Chubby like Gary walks with me. Oh man! That
would be awesome and probably have Chubby blowing a gasket. Just for the
hell of it I got my arm around Chubby's neck and pulled his head over a bit
toward mine. He chuckled at first and went along with it for about four
steps, then he pulled away roughly sputtering, "WTF, dude?" I couldn't stop
laughing, I'm in a good mood too although the extent of my laughing fit
might be affected a tiny bit by the three beers I had on the deck. Chubby
chuckled along with me not actually knowing why, he just giggled at me
laughing my nuts off. "You are not maturing well, I'm afraid," he says, but
he said it as a joke. We ate our dinner on the boardwalk. To be different
we had Mac's pizza and cokes instead of Mac's pizza and birch beer. I
sprinkle hot flakes on my slice so Chubby did it on his too. I put more on
and he did too, and we kept it up till the slices of pizza are so spicy hot
we can barely eat them. We're just in this goofy mood, happy to be
together. The rides were so much more fun tonight because I was sharing the
seat with Chubby, not Marsha. To be even goofier we played miniature golf
with golf clubs for left handed people and as a consequence we sucked so
bad groups playing behind us were doing that loud exaggerated breathing
thing showing their annoyance. Chubby and I pretended to be seriously
trying to do well while we're running up double digit scores on each
hole. Five year old girls are doing better than us. It was hard to keep a
straight face but we managed and then laughed our asses off afterward. I
asked Chubby, "Wasn't it you who said we're too old to be doing these kinds
of childish things on the boardwalk?" Chubby says, "No, that wasn't
me. Let's make fun of that fat guy over there." We didn't make fun of
anyone directly, but we were in giddy moods all night.

During our travels we saw a few guys we know but didn't hook up with them,
just said "Yo 'sup?" Chubby and I wanted this night to be just us. Around
eleven o'clock we went down some steps to the beach and walked in the water
carrying our sandals, our sides rubbing together while we reminisced about
stuff we did together going way back to puberty. We embellished the
stories, laughing even harder at the memory of certain incidents than we'd
laughed at them at the time they actually occurred. The last few blocks
before we got to our street, I put my arm across Chubby's shoulders without
him offering a word of protest. We walked those last few blocks in silence
with me wondering how empty my life would be without Chubby in it. I got a
few tears in my eyes thinking about that. Then, remembering how scared I
was the time the Chavez brothers' fight put Chubby in the hospital caused
me to sniffle, which I covered-up with a fake cough, rubbing my index
finger under my nose. Chubby didn't see my tears and I was glad of that
because he feels I'm too emotional for my own good. Back at the condo we
shared a last cigarette on the deck, tired now. Then we shared the bathroom
doing our night time ritual of peeing, washing and brushing. Chubby's been
making a federal case out of flossing lately so it's taking us longer in
the bathroom now. He insists I do it too and when he hands me his piece of
floss, I say, incredulously, "I gotta do it with the same piece of floss?"
and he goes, "Of course, do you have any idea how much floss fucking
costs?" I grabbed the floss from him and say, "Oh man, I forgot about
that." Later, in bed, we lay together. I wrapped my arms around his neck
with the side of my face against his. Chubby's arm is over my side and
we're playing footies. After a bit Chubby mumbles, "You can keep trying to
turn me gay, Dylan, but it ain't gonna work!" I say, "It will too!" We're
laughing quietly again, but soon I'm yawning and I hear Chubby take a deep
breath, relax, and fall asleep. Before I doze off I think, "Damn it!! I
should have prodded Chubby into the foot care. I'll get him tomorrow
night."  Inhaling Chubby's boyish odor, holding his chest against my bare
chest is so nice; oh my God, what a wonderful way to fall asleep! My last
thought was that we had a rare great night together; not that we did
anything special, it's just that we did it just him and me... and our
tattoos of course.

In the morning Chubby woke up before me and awakened me by tickling my nose
with a goose down feather that had worked its way out of his pillow. My
nose was twitching and while still asleep, I rubbed it and bumped into
Chubby's hand. My eyes opened fast and there was his cute smirking face; he
looks about fifteen years old this morning. As soon as my eyes opened he
broke into his beautiful smile with his sparkling white teeth and his cute
dimples, his face as smooth as a baby's. I say, "You playing slots at a
casino? Ha! Don't make me laugh!" He goes, "We got in alright, but they
threw us right out; that was the only envenom aspect of our adventure." I
forgot myself and squinted my eyes at that word "envenom", if it even is a
word. Chubby looks startled and says, "What, you don't know what that
means? You gotta be kidding me! It's so obvious; getting thrown out
poisoned the whole venture. Hey, don't feel bad you didn't know what the
word means; remember that time I got a "D" in my vocabulary test and I was
concerned my mom was going to be so auspicious?" I say, "Oh yeah, how could
I forget that time?" Chubby spits out a laugh, trying not too... he was
enjoying himself. I ask, "By the way, how much time do you waste each day
studying the dictionary?" He's getting out of bed, still chuckling that he
got me to bite on his vocabulary trick, mumbling, "Whatever do you mean by
that idiosyncratic query?" I go, "What'd you call me?" but Chubby was in
the bathroom so I rolled over onto his pillow, buried my face in it, and
got a nice boner from his sexy scent.

Today is the day I'm supposed to spend with Chubby and the girls, but I
might get lucky 'cause Marsha's stomach ailment could persist and maybe she
won't want to do anything today except hang out in the
air-conditioning. Chubby tried calling but her cell was only taking
messages. "Dammit! I'll have to drive over to find out what's up," Chubby
says, then he asks, "Ya wanna come with me, Dylan?" I beg off telling him,
"No thanks, Chub. The moms are still sleeping-off their cruise night, so I
thought I'd get us all coffees and muffins from the Dunkin Donuts on the
boardwalk. I'll get enough for the girls too... if they can make it out
today, that is." Chubby shoots me with his index finger and says, "Don't
get your hopes up that they won't show, dude!" I followed him down the
steps thinking, "Oh, forget that 'cause I got my hopes way up!"  Chubby
drove me the five blocks to the boardwalk, then headed for Wildwood Crest
and as soon as he's out of sight I go, "God dammit!" because I could have
borrowed his cell and talked to Robby, or at least leave him a message. I'm
such a numbnuts! I said that out loud and a woman snaps out, "Watch your
language. I've a five year old with me." I mumbled, "Sorry," and walked up
the ramp to the boardwalk still pissed at myself and then chuckling at the
thought of telling that snippy woman to, "go fuck yourself!" like Gary said
to the guy on the beach yesterday.

This is the first morning I've been on the boardwalk early. It's a
different set-up in the morning.  Until noon the boardwalk is apportioned
off into three lanes in each direction. The outside lanes are for the
walkers, the second lane is for the joggers, and the third is for
bicycles. My main interest is the joggers. I was kinda excited thinking
about the pods of young teens jogging together that I first noticed last
year. They run along side each other, in sync, usually five or six
across. I'm on the boardwalk, lighting a cigarette, when I again become
aware of random individuals gawking at my Mohawk.  I keep trying to
convince myself I'm finally getting comfortable with it... let 'em stare,
but I'm mostly fooling myself. Still, even though I'm uncomfortable being
stared at, I actually like my Mohawk okay and so I resist wearing a
baseball cap or something like that. In years to come, this is gonna be a
memory from my youth, something I can look back on and be proud that I
dared to be different. Ya know, veering away from peers is hard for us
teens, but I did it! Of course my motivation for doing it is a bit murky,
but so what... I did do it.

There's an empty bench on the beach side of the boardwalk and I make my way
over to it, dodging the many walkers, joggers and bicycle riders in my
path. A bench to yourself is rare on the boardwalk, rare indeed. it's a
beautiful morning, with a nice breeze and very sunny, belying the heat wave
that will be upon us in a few hours. So far no pods of boy joggers, but
I'll be damned if a youngish looking kid on the other side of the boardwalk
jogging alone didn't give me the Mohawk secret signal like the one Gary
showed me. The boy has a much longer Mohawk than mine so he's been at it
for awhile. I returned his signal by touching my chest with the side of my
fist and then dropping it to my side. The kid nodded and jogged on. Oooh,
that was cool! The boy was about my age with red hair and freckles, but
nice facial features. Small stature though, I adjust my dick imagining
Mohawk man shoving his big cock up that slim kid's ass. Do I have any
desire to experience that again myself? Hmmm, being honest with myself, the
answer is that I've no desire for it whatsoever, and that surprises me. I
thought about it some more and came up with the same conclusion. I would
like some more buddy sex with Gary though... he's unique! Then I thought of
Robby again and got this longing for him that almost had me tearing up
again. God dammit, Chubby's right, I am too emotional. There's no denying
it though, I still love Robby and I love having sex with him. I guess you
can't just turn it on and off. Yeah, but why did he deceive me?! Then I see
a pod of boy joggers in the distance. Cool!

Watching them approach is exciting. They must practice the rhythm of their
movements because they all have the same foot hitting the boards at the
same time and their arm action is identical too. Here they come: These six
boys look to be about fifteen, they're all wearing running shorts that look
suspiciously like underpants; their sexy packages plainly visible. All are
bare-chested which is against the law, not that these boys appear concerned
about that. Their feet are in white Nike running sneakers with ankle socks.
"Thump, thump, thump!" they jog down the boards, as six feet hit the
boardwalk simultaneously, over and over, in their quick paced jog. They all
look straight ahead and their demeanor seems to be shouting, "That's right,
we're cool!" A lot of confidence oozing from the pod, youthful faces shiny
with perspiration. The breeze they created passing by where I'm sitting
smelled like testosterone mixed with the uniquely boyish smell young teen
boys come by naturally. Various short haircut styles: Sports lengths, one
light blond, one dark brown and four light brown. What a cute group, all
are approximately the same size. Slim, tight bodies about five foot
seven-inches tall, their legs looking long and slim as they extend down
from their running shorts. Haha! What a sight! Some of the boys have downy
blond hair growing on their well-shaped calves while others have no hair on
their legs at all. Interesting to speculate who might be gay among them;
some of the runners have to be gay according to the law of averages. Not
necessarily in this pod, but in some of the groupings. Maybe the gay boys
haven't allowed themselves to acknowledge it yet, and if they have they're
most likely still deep in the closet. It's good the gay boys have straight
friends to run with because it's still not a totally welcoming world for
us. I've read there's much more acceptance now then in the past, but it's
still not always a smooth trip. Most of the boys running together on the
boardwalk are on the same school sports team or summer league and they all
look healthy and well taken care of. They're priceless in their
youthfulness, their innocence, and their natural beauty. They all have
stoic expressions on their sweaty faces; the excellent, almost naked,
almost perfect young male form on display. It's breathtaking for one like
myself who admires the perfection in the make-up of youthful male bodies.
As the boys jog away, I see flimsy tank tops tucked into the waistband at
the back of their shorts. They're there in case the boys get stopped by the
boardwalk police for not having shirts on. The tank tops look like
tails... beautiful boys with tails, now that's a vision. And here comes
another pod now and they're even younger than the first group. These boys
are seven across, all wearing the running shorts with tank tops and get
this... they're jogging and singing to the beat of that two-year old hit
from The Plain White T's, "Hey There Delilah".  That's the coolest thing
yet, they all had to memorize the words and they sing them out boldly;
probably they're members of a middle school rock band... cute!  Look at
that blond boy with the ponytail, hot! He's probably the drummer.  These
boys are heading up the boardwalk on the far side so they're not going
right by me like the first group, wicked cool just the same! Oh my God, I
gotta check this out more often!

Not wanting to, but needing to, I walked down to Dunkin Donuts and got four
extra-large coffees and half a dozen cranberry muffins. If the girls come
out, we can share the coffees by splitting them up into mugs. The four
coffees are in a cardboard carrier and the muffins in a bag but it was
still a challenge carry it all while dodging the hordes on the boardwalk.
It seems like a long walk back to the condo and I'm sweating by the time I
get there. Chubby had just pulled up in our Jeep and confirms that,
"Yippee!" it's gonna be just the two of us all day. Marsha's still sick
and, even though Mary Jo didn't really want to, she's going to hang in the
house today with Marsha. Aw, too fucking bad! Ha ha! Chubby couldn't
control his grin either, so it wasn't just me. The moms are nursing
hangovers on the deck when we get upstairs and join them. They tried acting
very excited about the coffees. Like I mentioned before, those two get
excited easily; especially when Chubby and me are involved. I asked Tris,
"Did Chubby ever get a "D" in a vocabulary test?" She drank some coffee and
said, "We were all happy whenever he could pass one of those tests, honey,
never mind a "D". Weren't we Jeffy?" Chubby goes, "Mommmmm!" I smirked and
the moms grinned. It's going to be a great day today! Just Chubby and me.

to be continued.......

Donny Mumford         thinat20@yahoo.com