Date: Sat, 17 Jun 2023 23:13:06 +0000
From: donny mumford <donnymumford@outlook.com>
Subject: INVITED  Chapter 49  ( LOVE STORY )   By Donny Mumford

                     Chapter 49


                    ( LOVE STORY )


I gave my two weeks' notice to Fredrico first thing Monday morning. He
seemed sad I was quitting, but he said I was doing the right thing going
to college. Then, at lunch, again without Mark showing up, I found out
why. One of the customer service dorks told me Mark Jones joined the
Marines.

Well, Mark told me weeks ago that he and his friend were going to do
that. I'm just sorry I didn't get a chance to say goodbye. I liked eating
lunch with him, and now, for the next two weeks, I'll be eating lunch in
the cafeteria, hopefully alone.

Monday, Tuesday, then Wednesday went by routinely, although each day, I
got more and more anxious to be done with this job. It's simple; I want
to be on vacation with Ronny. And it's not as if I won't be working at
all as I'm going to apply for a part-time job at ACME Market, where Ronny
works fifteen hours a week.

Anyway, I'm with Ronny every night after dinner, and he usually tells me
what he did that day. Mostly, it's swimming and playing tennis at the
Delaware County Tennis and Pool Club that his family belongs to. He goes
there most days with his neighborhood friends, John and Dennis Knight,
who are seventeen and nineteen. The three of them also go to the YMCA to
play basketball, and today they're at a Phillies game. Those are the
kinds of summer activities, plus golfing, that I want to be doing with
Ronny, and it's what I will be doing with him in ten days.

Meanwhile, I was feeling jealous of the Knight brothers for spending so
much time with my boyfriend, so last Saturday, I went to the tennis and
swim club as Ronny's guest. It was a lousy day for swimming, cloudy and
cool, but I went anyway because I wanted to meet Ronny's friends.

Well, as soon as I met John and Dennis, I knew there was no reason for me
to be jealous. First of all, neither of the guys was even slightly
good-looking, plus they were snarky pricks mocking Ronny and me for being
gay. When Dennis was introduced to me, he was so uncool, saying, "Oh, so
this is the infamous Wallingford," and then he flicked his finger at my
nose, adding, "You're only the second fag I've ever met. Lynch was the
first."

Rude motherfucker! His younger brother was rude too. Yeah, John laughed
when his brother flicked his finger off my nose, then he said, "And don't
even fantasize about grabbing either of our asses. Lynch was warned about
that, and now you've been told."

I muttered, "Holy shit, you're joking, right? I mean, who would want to
touch either of your fat asses?" Phony laughing... hahaha.

The brothers are not only unattractive, but they're also short and
slightly overweight. Definitely, nothing to be jealous about here. Later
that day, Dennis, the nineteen-year-old, and I were in line at the snack
bar waiting our turn when he whispered to me, "Look, you seem like an
okay guy for a fag, so I'll make you the same offer I made Lynch. For
twenty bucks, I'll let you blow me, but you've got to swallow my cum."

Naturally, the offensiveness of that startled me. He added, "You'd
probably want to swallow it even if I wasn't making you do it."

Pretending he was joking again, I said, "Dennis, it's highly unlikely you
could make me do anything." Yeah, I'm three inches taller than him, and
he's plump and doughy. How does he think he can make me do anything?

As he's frowning at that, I'm like, "I'll take a wild guess and bet Ronny
hasn't taken advantage of your twenty-dollar offer."

He goes, "Yeah, he has. Well, no, not exactly, but I'll bet he wants to.
It's just that we haven't had an opportunity yet, that's all. Hey, when
he takes me up on the offer, you can join in by blowing my brother, and
if he likes your blowjob, as a bonus, for an additional fifty bucks, I
might fuck you up your ass."

Squinting my eyes and shaking my head slightly, I muttered, "Jesus,
that's sick. You're sick." Then I pretend I misunderstood, "So, let me
get this straight. Your brother will give me twenty dollars if I let him
blow me?"

He goes, "What? No! You'd give him the..." and he stops when he sees me
snickering. Not able to think of anything original to say, Dennis goes
with the world-tested, all-encompassing retort of, "Fuck you,
Wallingford."

Later that night, it was a Saturday night, Ronny and I laughed about
Dennis' preposterous offers. Naturally, I was curious why Ronny would
hang out with the asshole Knight brothers. He told me they were okay guys
before they knew he was gay. Now, though, they're being pricks acting as
if they're better than Ronny and mocking his gayness.

Ronny doesn't pay much attention to their ball-busting. Then he added,
"What I mostly wonder about is if they might be latent homosexuals
because they won't stop talking about me blowing them. Whatever, it's
only until I move out of the house and into our apartment. Until then,
Dennis has the car, so it's convenient hanging out with them. And they
live only two houses away, so..."

As I said, every night after dinner, I drive my new, used car through
Philly to pick up Ronny, and some nights I'll drive us back to my
neighborhood so we can hook up with Billy and sometimes Pat too. Pat is
now juggling two boyfriends, both kind of cute, and neither one is aware
of the other. He brings one or the other to Billy's occasionally to hang
out in Billy's bedroom or his back porch, and often there's beer drinking
involved, except for Ronny, who doesn't drink alcohol.

One night Pat got us surfing YouTube for music videos that we'd never
seen before. Seriously, it's way cool discovering tunes that are
shockingly good, but somehow, we'd never heard of them. Last weekend,
Memorial Day weekend, we found a number of patriotic videos that were
really good, plus some that were emotional as well.

All of them were by country music artists, and an especially good example
was one written and performed by Toby Keith. It's a response to the 9/11
terrorist attack that happened before we were born. The year following
the attack, Toby traveled overseas to entertain the troops who were there
getting revenge for 9/11, which is when this video was made. The song's
title is 'Courtesy of The Red, White, and Blue (The Angry American).'

When he sang the revenge lyrics, 'We lit up Your World Like the Fourth of
July,'  all the troops jumped up and started cheering and high-fiving
each other, waving small American flags... it gave us chills.

Another awesome patriotic video was by Trace Adkins, singing with the
West Point Glee Club. It's called: 'Til The Last Shots Fired.' It was a
live performance at the Country Music Awards a few years ago. The lyrics
included, 'twenty-one and scared to death, my heart pounding in my chest.
I almost made the first sea wall when my friends turned and saw me
fall...'

And another favorite was Trace Adkin's 'Arlington.' And then there's
country music artist Radney Foster's video: Angel Flight (radio tower
remix), which is very emotional. We did some tearing up thinking about
the soldiers who died in war who were our age. That night we spent three
hours listening to patriotic tunes. It gets addictive. By the end of the
night, we were ready to volunteer in the military.

So, yeah, Ronny and I hang out at Billy's a few times a week. Billy likes
us doing that, and sometimes he and Ronny get into a contest of who has
the most unique trivia factoids. One I remember of Billy's had to do with
the number of Tyrannosaurus Rex that have roamed the Earth. The number
was 1.7 billion over the 2.5-million-year period of their existence.
Humans roaming the earth as long as T-Rex is extremely unlikely.

A trivia factoid of Ronny's was: Every continent on Earth except
Antarctica has McDonald's restaurants. So, why not Antarctica? He didn't
know.

Ronny and I saw a movie last night. We went with the Knight brothers
because they had free passes for us. After the movie, Dennis got me aside
to tell me he won't charge me the twenty dollars for letting me blow him.
As he said last time: "You seem like an okay fag." There was an eagerness
in his voice when he said it; I could blow him without paying him. He had
a humbleness about him this time that I hadn't noticed before, nodding
his head and encouraging me to say I'd do it. There was something about
his eyes, too... a pleading or vulnerability or something.

I patted his shoulder and was nice, saying seriously, "Dennis, it's
nothing personal, but I can't do that because I'm madly in love with
Ronny Lynch, and I want to stay faithful to him." I even lied to make him
feel better, "If I wasn't in love with Ronny, I'd blow you any time you
wanted me to."

You know, I felt bad for Dennis. Not for long, though. When I said I
couldn't do it, his eyes flashed with anger as he muttered the same thing
he muttered the last time I rejected him..."Fuck you, Wallingford!" Then
he added, "Anyway, I wasn't serious, you faggot. Haha! You thought I was
serious! I wouldn't let you blow me for a hundred dollars."

After that, I told Ronny I didn't want to do anything more with the
Knight brothers.

Anyway, here I am, finally in my last week at work, and it's still
dragging as if it will never end. Then it was Friday, my last day ever at
United Paper Product Inc., and I was treated to an underwhelming
farewell. Nobody seemed to care that it was my last day here. Fredrico
had other things on his mind, apparently, as he wasn't even around at the
five o'clock quitting time, so I left without saying goodbye. I must be
overestimating how much people like me.

Going home on the train, I was giddy at the realization of not needing to
come back to this job. Ronny and me living together, which could happen
as soon as tomorrow, is what's now exclusively on my mind!

Tomorrow is Saturday, July first, and Billy arranged to borrow a pickup
truck from someone. I think he said it's Lee Walters' brother's truck.
With the pickup, we'll be moving furniture into the apartment, so
tomorrow will be Ronny's and my first night sleeping together. That
thought made my dick quiver and reminded me of how fabulous Billy's and
my first night sleeping together was. It was uniquely special, special
with a capital 'S'!

As soon as my dick stopped quivering, and for the first time ever, I
wondered about something new. There's always something to worry about in
this world. My latest concern is Billy being in his bedroom, right next
to ours. What will it be like knowing Billy's on the other side of the
wall when Ronny and I are fucking?

Oh man, it'll be wicked embarrassing when I'm making my loud, girlish
squeal as I climax. And why am I just now realizing how awkward that will
be? Why didn't Ronny think of that? Or Billy?

Fuck, why can't anything ever work out perfectly... ever? There is always
something for me to be concerned about!

After dinner, as I do every night, I drove to Ronny's, and for a change,
I lucked out, getting a parking spot on his block. At the front door, I
let myself in without knocking because that's what Mrs. Lynch told me to
do. Yeah, lately, she's been super friendly to me. I guess she's accepted
or is resigned to the fact that Ronny and I are sweethearts, boyfriends,
and lovers. Plus, we'll eventually be spouses as well. Yeah, Ronny's told
her we're getting married after college. She shrugged it off at first,
but now she seems to be inviting me into the family. That's what it feels
like to me, anyway.

For example, a week ago, while I was waiting for Ronny to finish his
shower, Mrs. Lynch and I had a real conversation. She wistfully confided
in me how she kept waiting for Ronny to have girlfriends, eventually
choosing one to marry. I told her how I expected to have girlfriends too
and eventually get married, but something was missing. It's like I had a
mental block and could never make myself ask a girl out.

Mrs. Lynch nodded and told me she was disappointed she never had a
daughter, which is one reason why she was looking forward to having a
daughter-in-law. Commiserating with her, I nodded and said that's
perfectly understandable. She hugged me, saying, "But, I've never seen
Ron as happy as he's been the past six or seven weeks with you, so I
guess I'll settle for a sweet son-in-law, Richie," and she kissed my
cheek!

And, yeah, Ronny's mom and dad actually think my name is Richie.

Anyway, I'm touched by how much Mrs. Lynch has come around and endorsed
Ronny's and my gay love affair. I've also noticed something harmless and
kind of, I don't know, kind of cute that she does. It's this: whenever
Ronny and I as boyfriends and lovers come up in conversation, Mrs. Lynch
always manages to emphasize how Ronny is in the equivalent of the
straight-male role in our relationship, and I'm, therefore, the female
part.

One time I was with the Lynch family and said, 'Yes, Ronny,' when he told
me to do something, and Mrs. Lynch said something like, 'I see Richie has
already learned what it took me a couple of years to learn. Just give in
and say, 'Yes, Dear' to our man, and then come at it another way.' Mr.
Lynch laughed and said something about how he knew what she was up to...
hahaha.

Ronny didn't get it and asked, "Whaddaya mean, Mom?" She said, "That's a
secret for Richie and me."

She assumes I relate to her, not Mr. Lynch. Perhaps she feels that
establishing Ronny in the husband/male role is a way to soften the blow
of her only son being gay. Later, when he asked me about it, I pretended
I didn't know.

The funny thing is, though, I totally agree with Mrs. Lynch. Ronny is the
man, my man. I'm the, um, the other, um, what? Wife, I guess. Not that I
give a shit about titles. Still, I know that Ronny is my Alpha dog.

Anyway, Friday night, walking into Ronny's house, I heard his voice in
the kitchen, so I walked through the living room to the kitchen and got a
big smile from Ronny, who said, "And, right on time, here he is! Hi,
Richie!"

Mrs. Lynch smiled too, saying, "Hi, good looking," and Ronny hugged me,
then told me, "Go on over to Mom so she can get a good look at your
haircut. I told her it was what I want to get for my next haircut.
Heh-heh, how do you think I'll look with a 1950s butch haircut?"

What? Touching my head, I mumble, "My haircut? Um, you'll look great,
Ronny." I do not go over to his mom, though.

Mrs. Lynch says, "Don't embarrass Richie, Ron! " Then, to me, "I don't
have anything against your haircut, Richie. When my brother was a
teenager twenty-some years ago, he had a haircut like yours."

Ronny goes, "Uncle Henry had a butch haircut?"

Nodding her head, she says, "Yes, but that's beside the point. I don't
think it's a good idea for you to get that haircut two weeks before your
cousin's wedding. That's all I'm saying."

Huh, what does his cousin getting married have to do with anything? I
don't ask, though.

Ronny answers my unasked question, "Richie, remember I told you I'm in my
cousin's wedding as one of the groomsmen?"

"Um, oh, I think I remember something about that." Yeah, I do remember it
now. Heh-heh, I remember thinking the word 'groomsmen' was creepily
fucked-up, but I don't mention that now.

Ronny continues, "Well, Mom thinks I'll ruin their wedding album pictures
if I get a haircut like yours."

I make a face, and she says, "I already said that there's nothing wrong
with Richie's haircut! That's not what I'm talking about. Anyway, he's so
good-looking any haircut would look good on him. What I'm saying is our
relatives will expect you to look the way you've looked for the past
fifteen years. And your cousin and his bride should be the centers of
attention on their wedding day, not you and your new-look butch haircut."

He shrugs, "Okay, okay, you win! It isn't that big a deal, anyway. I'll
wait until after Bobby's wedding. Gawd!"

She smiles, "Thank you, honey. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

As we're walking outside, I mutter, "That was pretty fucking awkward for
me, and speaking of awkward, who will I be sitting with at that wedding?
Other than your mom and dad, I won't know a single person there, and I'm
not sitting with your parents as if I'm nine years old. I'm your date,
but I won't be sitting with you because you'll be at the wedding party
table. Why do I even have to go, Ronny?"

Getting in the car, he says, "Stop it! You're getting all worked up
again. Calm down, please. I want you there because it's a golden
opportunity for the rest of my family to meet you, and I want to show you
off. Christ, you're prettier than Bobby's bride, and I want everyone to
see that I have someone as good-looking as you for a boyfriend."

I mutter, "Oh, brother! There are so many things wrong with that I
wouldn't know where to begin, but thanks for the compliment." Then I
whine, "Yeah, but who will I be sitting with?"

As I drove my new, used car out into the flow of traffic, he said, "Well,
um, I don't know, baby. The bride assigns seats for everyone; I think
she's the one who does that."

I mutter, "Balls..."

Ronny goes, "Oh, here's what I wanted to ask you. Will you teach me to
dance? Billy said you're a good dancer, and at the reception after the
wedding, I'll definitely need to dance with one of the bridesmaids,
so..."

"What? Dance? Yeah, of course! It'll be fun teaching you to dance, Ronny,
but, ah, I just remembered something else I wanted to ask you! When we're
in the apartment, do you think it'll be awkward for us fucking with Billy
in the next bedroom?"

He squints and frowns, then adjusts his glasses and says, "Goddamn, I
never thought of that, but yeah, it will be wicked awkward! Dammit, why
can't anything be perfect? There's always something that screws
everything up!"

I nod, "My exact thought!"

Mom and Dad are out to dinner celebrating their twentieth wedding
anniversary tonight, so Ronny and I are going to hang out at my house for
a couple of hours. It'll probably be the last time we make love in my
bedroom. I say that because when we get the apartment set up tomorrow,
Saturday, Ronny and I will be sleeping together that night. That has me
wicked excited!

Yeah, that's so exciting to think about, but for now, we have this
concern about Billy in the next bedroom. I mean, we definitely want our
idol, Billy, in the apartment with us, but we hadn't thought about this
side of it.

Ronny pats my shoulder and mumbles, "Don't worry, though, I'll think of
something, although what that will be is hard to imagine."

I nod, "Well, see what Billy has to say about it. That's all you can do."

He mutters, "Yeah, I know, but that makes me nervous." Then he smiles,
"Don't you worry about it, though, baby."

Surprising myself, I actually kind of like it when Ronny calls me baby or
babe. So, smirking, I nod, "Okay, and it is kind of your responsibility
as our leader to solve problems like this anyway. You don't want your
bottom boy worrying about it, do you?"

He laughs, "My baby bottom boy, huh? That's definitely cringe-worthy...
haha."

We chuckle, and then he says, "Goddamn, but you're a cute motherfucker,
smirking at me like that. The thing is, though, I'm not cut out for this
shit. I talk like a big shot to you, pretending it's no problem, I'll
take care of, um, whatever. I'm always trying to impress you, but I don't
really know what to do. Um, as you said, I guess I'll talk to Billy and
hope he has a solution."

Oh, God, I love Ronny so much! Glancing at him, smiling, I'm like, "Nah,
you're too modest, Ronny. You always know the right thing to do. And, oh
man, I get a boner when you take charge of shit, and you can call me baby
anytime you want. It's cool."

Shrugging, rolling his eyes, Ronny mutters, "Yeah, well, heh-heh, it just
slips out, and then I wish I hadn't said it. Yeah, as I said, it's
another one of the cringe-worthy things that just sort of pop up in our
love affair. "

"Yeah, but I like it. Ya know?"

Holy shit, we're doing cringe-worthy stuff again, ha-ha. On a serious
note, though, it's occurred to me that during the past week or so, Ronny
and I haven't been fucking as much as we used to. Nothing to worry about.
I mean, of course, we're fucking twice every night, but not three or four
times a night or more, as we used to do in our early dates.

Somehow, it's like we're so comfortable with our relationship now, our
love affair; we don't need to prove our love or our attraction and
devotion to one another by fucking like mice. Um, do mice fuck all the
time? I think they do.

On the other hand, Ronny and I are still doing the same amount of holding
hands and, generally, the same kind of touching we've always done, and
while our making out has lost a little of the frenzied sense we had in
our early days, we still do a helluva lot of making out. It's simple; we
love being in physical contact with one another, not that either of us
has ever verbalized that. We just accept it as something we're always
going to do.

After saying that, as soon as we're in my bedroom, we begin undressing.
No discussion about it is needed; whenever it's just Ronny and me in a
bedroom, we take our clothes off.

I'm like, "When you talk to our idol tomorrow morning," and then I can't
keep a straight face because we're half joking about Billy being our
idol. Ronny snickers, and I shake my head, "Um, our idol, Billy, haha.
No, seriously, um, what do you think he'll say about us making love in
the bedroom next to his?"

Ronny's chucking, holding the shirt he just took off. He shrugs his slim
bare shoulders and says, "Fuck, I don't know, but I should be the one
discussing it with him, not you."

"Good! I don't want to bring it up to him. It's awkward and embarrassing,
so, yeah, by all means, you do it."

Ronny says, "Well, fuck, I just told you a minute ago that I don't want
to do it either, but he holds me responsible for looking out for you, and
maybe this will show him that I'm taking the lead and doing a good job of
it. Plus, he and I communicate pretty well, whereas you sometimes get
tongue-tied talking with him. I'll get him aside and see what he thinks.
We'll talk it out, but tonight you and I are not going to mention it
again, okay? As I said before, it makes me nervous that I need to handle
this, so I don't want to talk about it."

I nod, "Okay, Ronny."

Shaking his head slightly, he smiles and says, "Goddamn, you know what? I
love how you always obediently say, 'Okay, Ronny' or 'Yes, Ronny,'
whenever I tell you something. That's so cool of you. It makes my penis
get hard and makes me feel important too."

He hugs me, then kisses me, murmuring, "You're so special, and we're
fantastically special together. We've grown into the perfect couple,
Richie! We never argue about anything, and while it's slow progress, I'm
learning to be the confidently-bossy leader you want, and that's
thanks to your encouragement!"

Another squeezing hug, then he takes his arms away, and I drop my pants,
mumbling, "Yes, we are a fantastic couple, and yes, you are important!
You're our leader, Ronny, so of course, when you tell me something, I
say, 'Yes, Ronny,' and get right to whatever it is you want me to do."

We both laugh at that exaggeration, then I add, "Me immediately doing
what I'm told is the main reason we never argue, by the way."

We snicker at that as he steps out of his shorts, saying, "God, I love
being with you! It's so much fun, plus no one has ever made me feel
important before, certainly not like you do. So, thanks, Wallingford!"

Staring at his flaccid at-the-most three-inch-long penis, I mutter,
"Yeah, no problem. It's nice that we spend a lot of time complimenting
one another, although it's getting a tiny bit creepy, too, don't you
think?"

Absently flicking at his little pecker, Ronny and I laugh. We laugh at my
creepy' comment, not at his little pecker, then he mumbles, "Ah, no, it's
not really creepy. It's like, nobody has ever complimented me before, so
I like hearing it from you, so even if you think it's creepy, keep it up.
anyway,  if you don't mind."

Taking my eyes off his penis, I mutter, "Yes, Ronny," and we both laugh
at me saying that. Actually, I didn't say it to be funny; it just came
out routinely. I do think of Ronny as my leader, for real.

So, yeah, me saying, 'Yes, Ronny,' has become sort of an automatic
response. without me thinking too much about it.

Ronny holds a finger up and says, "Ah, also, um, about tomorrow, babe,
uh, should I ride my motorbike to Billy's, or will you pick me up? If you
don't want to drive through the city and back, I'll understand..."

Taking off my underpants, I see Ronny's back to absently playing with
himself, so I fiddle with my dick a little, saying, "No, don't ride your
bike! I'll come and get you tomorrow morning. Of course, I will!"

Both of us are naked now, playing with ourselves. Ronny stops fiddling
with his junk and pushes my hand away from mine; then he cups my cock and
balls in his fist. My eyes open wide as he squeezes, "I knew you'd want
to pick me up. Thanks, baby!" He squeezes my junk again, asking, "Um, who
do these nuts and this dick belong to?"

We both laugh, then another squeeze, and I go up on my toes, my hands on
his shoulders, balancing myself, snickering, then mumbling, "Ahh, ahh!
You, Ronny. Ha-ha, they belong to you. Of course, they do, so don't hurt
them."

Chuckling, he murmurs, "I'm so proud to own this nice little dick of
yours plus this bag of nuts." Then, after a last squeeze, he lets go of
my junk, mumbling, "I just remembered something," and he picks up the
shorts he just took off, goes into a pocket, and pulls out a condom
packet, saying, "I forgot to tell you that I found some condoms online
that will work for our size dicks. They're for, well, it says 'Smaller
Penises,' but one of these felt good and tight on my normal size penis
when I tried it on this afternoon."

It's so cute the way he's still fooling himself into thinking he has a
normal size penis.

He holds the packet out to me, and sure enough, it says WORLD CONDOMS
Snug fit for you smaller guys.' I open the packet, and, yeah, it's a
small condom, all right, and just as slippery as a regular one. So, okay,
using the lubricant will work, but it's probably too small for my dick.
Not that I need a condom for anything, and not that I'm mentioning
anything to Ronny about it being too small for my pecker. Instead, with a
straight face, I ask, "Can I roll this fucker onto your normal-size
boner, Ronny?"

He nods, muttering, "Yeah, but the way you said that," and he strokes his
penis. All his touching has his penis fairly firm by now. He adds, "Um,
the smirk in your voice when you said that makes me think you're
inferring something about my dick."

Making a face as if I can't believe he'd think something like that, I'm
like, "What? Jesus, Ronny, don't get all paranoid on me. I'm not
inferring anything. Your penis is my favorite penis in the world, jeez!"

He snorts out a short laugh and goes, "Yeah, I don't know, but I think
you were inferring something. Anyway, yeah, go ahead and roll that condom
onto my hard dick," and he strokes up and down on his now almost
four-inch boner.

Holding the sticky, lubricated condom clear of us, I push his hand away,
lean over, and mumble, "Before I do that," and take his cute cock into my
mouth, pulling it away from his belly with my lips and leaning my
forehead there, staring at his extremely neat pubic patch.

He goes, "Ahh, umm," and rubs my head, murmuring, "Oh, God, that feels
good, baby."

I go up and down on his dick a half-dozen times, getting it wicked hard.
Then, tasting precum on the last trip down, I take my mouth off his
harder-than-hard penis and roll the condom down the short shaft. When
I've done that, my dick is as hard as Ronny's. When I stand, he hugs me,
and my arms go around him. Our bodies stay tightly together as we sway
side to side for a bit, our boners squished between us.

Lubricant from the condom gets on my leg, then some smears on my boner as
Ronny murmurs, "I get dizzy with arousal when you're in my arms, Richie.
This is crazy, but I love you so much that I sometimes think I've lost my
mind. Um, you know, lost it in the best way possible."

We both chuckle because we know we're constantly overdoing everything. A
hot kiss further stiffens our boners, both of them sticking straight up,
side by side, one an inch or so taller than the raincoat-wearing boner
with the pointy head.

Our boners remain snugly squished between us as we make out for five or
six minutes, our arms around one another, our hands all over one
another's asses, backs, heads, and hair. Our lips slide apart, but we
remain serious about touching and hugging as we stagger around the room,
moaning with desire. We fit together so well too, and the feel of him in
my arms, the top of his head two inches below mine, his bangs against my
eyebrows, everything about him smelling sexy-good; it's almost
overwhelming, but not quite. Instead, it's just right.

With Ronny in my arms and me in his, I get this amazing contented, safe
sense of being exactly where I belong. It's a dreamy, wonderful feeling
like nothing I've experienced before.

And as Ronny implied a few minutes ago, he's more and more comfortable
taking charge of us, being our leader. I'm very proud of him. And then,
right on cue, sounding confident and bossy, he says, "Let's go, Richie!
Get over to the bed," and he walks me backward until the back of my legs
bumps into my bed. With a little encouraging push from Ronny, I lie back
on the mattress, him coming down with me.

After licking tongues and making moaning sounds, Ronny takes his mouth
away and murmurs, "The best part about being your leader is being your
top, making love to you. That's the best part for me, and I'm trying to
make it really, really good for you, too. C'mon, you know what I want you
to do, baby. Get your legs back good and tight. That's it, get that cute
ass of yours up off the bed!"

Yes, Ronny."

Ronny's not the only one who gets dizzy. I get dizzy with excitement when
he's in his take-charge mode. When I did what he said; my legs pulled
back so hard my spine was rounded, and my asshole was off the mattress.
Then, Ronny standing close to the mattress, gripped my waist and pulled
my body forward until my ass was just past the side of the mattress, out
in space. He murmurs, "This is an even better idea! Oh man, I love doing
this, Wallingford. I love it!"

I murmur, "Me too, Ronny."

With my knees pulled back to my chest, an arm around each leg, my feet
dangling on either side of my man, and my anus lips quivering, I'm so
super aroused a gasp comes out of my throat. Then I feel the slippery
lube from the small condom smear on my buttocks. Omigod, all that bodily
contact we had earlier along with kisses and hugs has me wildly aroused.
That, and now I'm about to feel Ronny's almost four-inch boner inside me,
so I'm hugely overstimulated and sounding desperate, I grunt, "Ronny,
wait! I think I'm going to cum..."

Shaking his head, he mutters, "Do not cum, Richard! Goddammit, I need you
to calm down. C'mon, baby, relax!"

"Don't yell at me, okay?"

He's holding his hips back, his condom enclosed boner so hard
it doesn't move at all. Ronny looks distraught but sounds compassionate
and sincere, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, Wallingford, I really am. I didn't
mean to yell; I love you. It's just that I'm so hot to have sex with
you."

Nodding, I'm taking long deep breaths, relaxing, then murmuring, "Okay,
that's alright. I'm good now, Ronny. I'm good, but that was a close one.
Whew, that was so weird... haha."

"Oh, good. Um, you've calmed down. That was quick. Good, I'll go slow,
and... NO, WALLINGFORD! Take your hand off your dick."

I moan in deep arousal and do what I'm told. "Yes, Ronny."

Ronny says, "You know that's my job to do, baby. I'll take care of your
boner, okay? Um, jeez, though, I didn't mean to yell again, but you...
well, I'm sorry."

Nodding, I gasp out a snicker, then mumble, "You're always yelling at me,
and I know it's your job, but Goddamn, you turn me on too much, so it's
mostly your fault I grabbed my boner."

Nodding, he mutters, "Uh-huh, be cool, we're good..." but he's snickering
again because I'm snickering. If one of us laughs, the other one laughs
even though he doesn't know what he's laughing at.

Ronny giggles, then murmurs, "Please stop making me laugh. Here we go,"
and he slowly moves his hips forward, but bursts out snickering, then
mutters, "Sorry for laughing, but we are a couple of numbnuts just like
Billy's always telling us... and he's right."

I nod again, "Heh-heh, so true."

He mutters, "Okay, no more laughing from me," and the cold nipple on the
end of the undersized condom hits my asshole. I shiver, then murmur,
"C'mon, fuck me, Ronny. You're my man..."

He chuckles, "I'm your man, huh? You say that a lot, and yeah, I am your
man, and I'm starting to like that, but I don't want to fuck it up, so
I'm always a little nervous too..."

Then he pushes his almost four-inch condom-covered boner past my
sphincter muscles... shivers burst out all over me. It's sliding in
tightly and smoothly with the help of the lubricant, my asshole staying
just as tight for Ronny-sized boners as it does for a Malcolm-sized
boner. That's how anuses work, apparently. They exert the minimum effort
they can get away with. All boners, stretching open an anus, will create
a burning sensation at some level. Well, not much burning, and not for
long with my anus and Ronny's boner, so that's good.

After fully impaling me, Ronny's lately been doing full four-inch
thrusting, doing the thrusting slowly for a couple of minutes. Each
quarter-inch that his hard boner moves slowly inside me sets off new
sizzling pleasure vibrations from the many-more-than-makes-sense nerve
endings that are present in human rectums. This physical part of sex also
includes emotional closeness and trust. There are also mental and
spiritual aspects of sex resonating in the brain at the same time the
physical parts are working. For me, the mental part is knowing it's Ronny
Lynch doing the sex with me, which elevates the sex act significantly.

Casual sex with a fuck buddy can't come close to the thrilling level of
pleasure I get when I'm having sex with my man Ronny. He's my sex
partner, my lover, my man whose scent, hugs, and kisses cause contraction
of my urethra and ejaculations that boggle my mind. I experience the most
intense orgasmic climaxes I've ever experienced when Ronny's my sex
partner.

As almost happened a minute ago, my orgasmic climaxes have also happened
for me without penetration. Just being hugged and kissed by Ronny can
make me cum. Still, the intensity can't compare with orgasms being fucked
out of me by Ronny. Ronny fucking me combines stimulations of a physical,
emotional, mental, and even a spiritual nature creating orgasms that rock
my world in fantastic out-of-this-world ways.

With me on my back on my bed, my legs pulled back, and Ronny's boner
fully inside me, I'm in a dreamy place of intense pleasure. After a
couple of minutes of experiencing the indescribably fabulous erotic
pleasure from Ronny's hard boner's steady penetrations, I move my arms
from around my legs onto the back of Ronny's neck as he leans over me,
looking into my eyes. Smiling, he moves his hips steadily forward and
back, his boner going up my ass, then pulled back again and again and
again.

There are no slapping sounds, just a quiet moan of pleasure from me as
Ronny's eyeglasses steam up and his pretty eyes close, and oh, it feels
so good doing this with him. I swoon and inhale Ronny's scent while
experiencing pleasure so intense I'm not sure if my quiet moans are in my
head or if I'm moaning audibly.

Ronny is making a puff sound with each steady thrust, and that's become
hypnotic for me, and the puffing sounds soon put me in a dreamy state of
mind. Unable to control myself, I pull his head down until his face is
against mine, and then I put my tongue in his mouth. His eyes are still
closed as we suck on each other's mouths and lips. My penis is a steel
spike sticking straight out from my crotch, the wet precum head poking
Ronny's belly.

Our lips slide apart, and I murmur, "Oh, umm, fuck me harder, Ronny,"
squeezing around his neck and tightening all the muscles in my rectum, I
add, "I love you more than I could ever describe. Fuck your boy, Ronny."

He mutters, "I'll do my best for you, but Goddammit, let go of my neck!
You're choking me."

Oh, fuck yeah, that authority-sounding voice makes me shiver with
submissiveness as I take my arms away, murmuring, "Yes, Ronny.
Sorry...,"

He lifts up, grips my hips, and says, "That's okay, um, grab your legs
again, baby. Pull 'em back."

I do that, and he adds, "And keep 'em spread this time."

"Yes, Ronny." I do that, and Omigod, when he gets bossy, I get hotter
than the gates of hell. Aroused greatly, precum plops out of my cock and
drools down the shaft as I grab my cock and moan, "Oooh, Ronny."

"NO! Take your hand away, Richie! How many times do I need to tell you
that, huh?"

"I'm sorry, it's just, um..."

Ronny murmurs, "Oh, hell, no, it's okay. Dammit, I didn't mean to yell
that time either; ah, oh..."

I can't resist stroking my boner, and Ronny gives up trying to get me to
stop. He rolls his eyes, then starts doing much faster and harder
thrusting, slapping sounds now ringing out in the room. I'm grunting,
"Oh, oh, oh, Ronny...yeah..." my fist moving up and down my hard penis.

He's grunting, standing there gripping my hips, moving only his hips,
grunting, "AH!" with every thrust... "AH! AH! AH! AH!"

I'm dizzy from the sexual pleasure bursting in the air all around me.
It's popping bursts of pleasure, popping sounds in my head like walking
on bubble wrap "Pop, pop, pop," stars bursting behind my eyes with each
pop, the pleasure of a hundred lifetimes soaring over me like electricity
zipping from my balls to my rectum, me humping back into Ronny's
thrusting as I'm stroking my hard cock, until the world explodes and I
make a shrill girlie squeal, "Ronnniiieee..." as my orgasmic climax
blows, my eyes wide open; I'm hardly believing the ginormous orgasm.

I know that the length and strength of my most outrageous climaxes are
because of Ronny being my man topping me. No one else on earth could
cause a climax this strong. Still, I can't believe the speed of the hot
creamy cum that's soaring up from my sizzling balls, streaking up my
five-inch hard-as-stone boner, burning like wildfire as the stream of hot
creamy cum blasts from my piss slit; the pleasure unimaginably
spectacular.

The blast of creamy hot cum splatters off Ronny's naked chest, drooling
back down on me. Unbelievably fantastic, but it leaves me feeling weak,
shuddering, and staring into Ronny's eyes. Grinning, he nods his head,
his glasses still foggy with steam, closes his eyes again, and scrunches
his face, blowing his climax inside the condom. He shakes for a few
seconds, then his face relaxes.

With another grin, he thrust his still-hard cock back and forth in my
totally lubricated rectum. He's doing it steadily again while making
noisy exhales. I'm cooing, very relaxed, as he says, "C'mon, pull your
legs back harder, Wallingford... the way you did  before."

With my cum on both of us, I nod, pulling my legs back until my spine is
again rounded and my anus is fully up for Ronny.

"That's perfect, baby. Oh, Jesus, this feels really, really good."

Thrust, thrust, thrust, and then he pulls his still-hard dick out and
pulls off the cum-filled condom. Handing it to me, he mumbles, "Here, do
something with this." I take it and, reaching back as far as I can, drop
it on some tissues on the bedside table. Ronny slides his bare boner back
up my ass, and we both go, "Ahhh, ooh, umm..."

It feels really, really good... incomparable pleasure. The relief from
that impossibly perfect climax allows me to savor and just enjoy the feel
of Ronny's constantly moving, hard, bare pecker. Almost immediately, I'm
again in a dreamy state of mind and so in love. In love and captivated by
Ronny's ever-growing, confident take-charge attitude.

It was uber cool the way he held out the condom and said, 'Here, do
something with this.' He's developing a sexy, confident, and
authoritative tone in his voice, and I love that. It's all working great
for me, better and better day by day. Ronny's such a sexy turn-on to me.

Yeah, it's true that every time I think there's no way I could love Ronny
or admire him more, he takes everything up another level, and up goes my
love and admiration for him. He's so totally irresistible now; thinking
about it makes me smile with happiness and shiver with joy at my good
fortune.

Opening his eyes, he says, "Oh, jeez, Richie, doesn't this feel
fabulous?"

Nodding enthusiastically, I murmur, "Fabulous, Ronny. You're fabulous
too!"

He grins, "I love you, and I love how you love me. You make me feel
special. Never stop loving me, okay?"

"Okay!"

After another minute or two of lazily humping his cock in my ass, he
stops and mumbles, "That first climax I had was awesomely powerful and
filled up the condom, but I don't sense a second one building any time
soon. Sorry."

He pulls his dick out, and I mutter, "Damn, I had another hardon too. You
did great, though, Ronny."

He nods, "Heh-heh, you've got another boner, huh? That's a shocker.
You're a walking boner, Wallingford, but I already told you that, didn't
I? You're my walking boner, ain'tcha?" and he licks my lips.

Nodding, I sit up and put my arms around him, "Yep, I'm your walking
boner bottom, your sexy-hot, adorable, loyal boy who loves you to death!
You're my top, my man, my lover... my everything."

Ronny murmurs, "Uh-huh. I see you're building me up in a dramatic, albeit
slightly creepy, cringe-worthy manner again," and we both laugh so hard
our faces become bright red.

Holy shit, catching his breath, he goes, "What the fuck, though?
Cringe-worthy or not, I like hearing all that shit you say about me,
Richie." Then, tentatively touching the cum I fired off on his chest, he
mutters,  "Let's wash up a little."

Getting off the bed, I look out the window to be sure my Dad's car isn't
there, then mutter, "They're still at the restaurant."

Ronny shrugs, then gets out of bed, and, without thinking about it,
naked, we hold hands, going down the hall to the bathroom, me bringing
the used condom for small penises. In the bathroom, Ronny says, "Just
stand there."

I flush the condom, then stand here grinning as Ronny uses a washcloth to
wipe the cum from my chest that drooled off him. Satisfied I'm clean, he
wipes cum off himself. I'm smiling because I like watching him, then I
swipe his bangs over to the side of his forehead, saying, "I can't wait
to see how you look with Uncle Tony's 1950-style butch haircut."

He says, "You'll need to wait at least two weeks for that, and we'll be
in our apartment. We don't need to go all the way back to your
neighborhood for our haircuts. So, it'll be after my cousin's wedding,
assuming I don't chicken out entirely about getting that haircut."

He uses a hand towel to dry us, then we hug and kiss. He murmurs, "See
how well I'm taking care of you, baby?" I nod, and we walk down the hall
hand in hand, me saying, "No, I know you won't chicken out. You promised
me you'd get the haircut, so all three of us roommates would have the
same one, thereby freaking out our new neighbors."

We both snicker, Ronny mumbling, "The three stooges." In the bedroom, he
says, "Get on the bed."

I nod and do that, then Ronny climbs on the bed and lies partially on me,
getting his arms around me, asking, "Did you like that sex I did for you?
And, by the 'effing way, you're always a fantastic bottom boy for me. I
really liked the way you kept tightening your ass muscles. Felt fabulous!
God, I loved the way you did that!"

Heh-heh, Ronny compliments me, but he wants compliments too, and he
deserves some. I run my fingers back through his hair, then grab some of
the short hair at the crown and pull it, saying, "You're my man, Ronny,
so it's no surprise that you fucked me better than anybody ever has. That
sex we just had was awesomely fantastic! And so are you."

"Thanks, but don't pull my hair, okay? Um, yeah, I loved that sex we just
had, and I'm glad you did too."

He kisses my cheek, murmuring, "I'm glad you liked it, but is there
something I could do to make it better? I mean, for you." Then sounding
angry, "Hey! I told you to stop pulling my Goddamn hair!"

Grinning, I say, "Yes, Ronny," and pull it again, and now I can tell he's
trying not to laugh. We grin at one another and start snickering. Still
gripping his hair in my fist, I murmur, "You yelled at me again." Pulling
on his hair, I say, "anyway, I won't be able to pull your pretty light
brown hair when you get it cut like mine, so..." and I pull it again.

We're both giggling like idiots now and for no reason. Well, we actually
do have a reason or an explanation anyway. It's that we like being
together doing and saying silly idiot stuff whenever we feel like it, and
we like laughing together at nothing.

I say in a sincere manner, "As for you fucking me better, there's no way
you could improve the way you fuck me. How does one improve on
perfection?"

He grins, "Oh, fuck, yeah, I'm perfect. I'm so sure of that... ha-ha. You
know, I'm so far from perfect it's hopeless. Still, if you don't watch
out, I might start believing the compliments you're always giving me."

Yanking on his hair again, I murmur, "You deserve the compliments. Just
so you know, I'm never letting you go! I'll follow you anywhere; you'll
never escape me."

Chuckling, he goes, "And I guess you're never going to stop yanking on my
hair, either. Well, as you said, you won't be able to pull it if we can
find a barber near our apartment who can do haircuts like the ones Uncle
Tony gives you. Maybe my woman barber; she'll only be a twenty minute
drive from the apartment."

I let go of his hair, "Oh, that's not what I want... um, I mean, I was
hoping you'd make the drive to Uncle Tony's with me. I can't dump him for
another barber; he's my Uncle!"

Ronny tries patting down the hair I was pulling and says, "Oh, sure, of
course. What was I thinking? Yeah, I'll go with you. As you said, haha,
the three of us in the apartment with the same outlandish 1950s butch
haircuts! Oh man, our neighbors will be shaking their heads, and they'll
be talking about us at college. We are going to freak some people out!"

Shrugging, I go, "Yeah, I guess, but I don't know if Billy will continue
going along with what used to be his and my magical haircuts. I doubt it,
actually. You and I will, though, right Ronny?"

He goes, "Oh, um, I don't know for how long. I just want to see what it
feels like to have a wicked short summer haircut. I've never had an
old-fashioned summer haircut in my entire life. I think it'll probably be
a one-and-done thing for me. We'll see, though."

I go, "Well, I've got the wicked curly hair problem, so I need to keep
getting..."

Ronny interrupts, "I know, baby. Sure, you've got reasons for that
haircut; no problem. Ya know, there are other more important things about
you and me I'm feeling really good about. It's, um, well, it's looking
like you've been right all along about me needing to be the, um, you
know, the guy in charge for us. Even though it sounds creepy to me,
you've right about me being the man, um, you know... your man. Our
leader."

"Goddamn right, you're my man. Why is that so shocking, Ronny? You're
perfect at being both my leader and my man. I'm glad you've stopped
vacillating back and forth about it."

Ronny makes a face and rolls his eyes, muttering, "We're so weird,
though. You and me, Wallingford, we're really a one-of-a-kind gay couple,
but I don't mean in a horrible way. We do weird things like how you got
me calling you baby or babe, and sometimes, sweetheart?"

Making a face like 'WHAT?' I say, "Ronny, I didn't have anything to do
with you calling me baby. I mean, it's sweet of you to call me those
terms of endearment, but I didn't get you in the habit of doing it. That
was all you, or you and Billy."

Shaking his head but smiling too, he goes, "Oh yeah? Don't you think the
fact that you're so cute and submissively willing to do what I tell you
may have persuaded me to subconsciously start calling you baby?
Otherwise, how in the hell did a bashful nobody like me end up doing what
Underwood said I'd need to do, which is be in charge and take care of
you? You, the cutest gay guy in Pennsylvania!"

I go, "Holy shit! Only in Pennsylvania?"

He laughs, "Maybe in Delaware, too."

We laugh, hug, and then make out for two minutes. Then, I'm licking my
lips as Ronny says, "Yeah, Underwood was right; I do need to take care of
you. I need to do everything I said I'd never do and never thought I
could do."

Still hugging, I mutter, "And yet you're doing it all so wonderfully!"

We shrug, laughing again, then he says, "You are really something, but I
had no choice about everything I'm doing. It's all is what you like, and
since I want to please you, I'm doing your wishes."

Smirking at him, I say, "Like Billy, you are extraordinarily gifted at
rationalizing contrary facts until they support your point of view. It's
not just me who likes that you're our leader; you like it too. You like
being the man, my man, too, don't you? "

Another shrug, then grinning, snickering again, as he goes, "Yeah, I
kinda do like it, heh-heh. I'm not too good at it yet because it doesn't
come naturally to me. Here's something else, Wallingford. Me saying I
love you doesn't adequately describe my feelings for you, not even close.
Yes, of course, I love you; love you with a passion I never knew existed,
but my feelings for you encompass more than love."

"Really? Well, um, what's better, more important than love?"

He goes, "Not more important, but there is another really strong emotion
is commitment. The intense sense of commitment I have for you is to
provide you with a life of happiness so you never have a reason to be
sorry you fell in love with me."

What a good speech! It's left me speechless as we squeeze our arms around
one another, rubbing our noses together, then kissing. When he lifts his
head, taking a deep breath, I pull his hair and his head down for another
sloppy kiss. Sometimes it feels as if we're in a void. Ronny and I are in
a void of time and space that's expanding at the speed of light, but only
for us two; no one else is in our private void, just us too, and our
passionate love.

We're hugging again, and I can't snuggle against him enough, his scent
filling my head as I suck on his neck, giving him a hickey. He murmurs,
"Alright then, you're getting a hickey too."

Shortly, our boners returned, and Ronny gently pushed my head away, the
taste of him in my mouth, "Turn over onto your stomach now, and push your
ass up for me, baby."

I do that, exaggerating, pushing my ass up, then "Oooh, Ronny," because,
with the help of leftover lubricant from the small condom, Ronny's bare
skin penis, boned-up to almost four inches, slides tightly but smoothly
up my ass. He pushes it in until he's flat against my buttocks, grinding
against me, grunting, "Mmm, I love fucking you, Wallingford. Nothing on
earth, nothing in the Cosmos, could feel as good as doing this with you."
I push my ass up even more, and he smacks it, "Stop it!"

"Yes, Ronny." I settle down, and Ronny does deep, slow penetrations as I
moan, Umm, umm, ooh, Ronny..."

Contrary to what many people believe, phycologists know that men, more
than women, see no reason not to love their partner deeply without
reservation and be more passionate about it than women are. It's in men's
nature to be passionate, with romance meaning more to men than it does to
women... and this has always been so.

Ronny and I are two romantic young men with passionate selfless love for
one another. We have an insanely strong mutual attraction for each other
that's wonderfully overwhelming, and I'm floating in space, a dreamy
smile of contentment on my face as my man fucks me deliciously.
Sensations build and build until I scream out in ecstasy when my second
climax of the night blows out from my dick, blowing out wildly into the
world, leaving me limp but swooning with pleasure.

I'm drained but shivering with pleasure as Ronny humps against my
buttocks, hard this time, and then groans as he fills me up with his
semen. I like it best when he fucks me bareback because feeling his cum
inside me gives me goosebumps. He squeezes his arms around me, makes a
sighing sound, and then relaxes, pulling his softening dick from my ass.

I feel so well taken care of; I feel loved, and I'm beautifully
contented.

Warm cum drools out of my ass as Ronny helps me turn over onto my back,
his arms still around me, both of us hugging again and whispering words
of love to one another. Then, as happens often, one of us says something
stupidly idiotic, and we start snickering at that, then giggling until
we're embarrassing ourselves.

Getting over our silliness, we're snuggling together again, getting
ultimately comfortable in each other's arms, then lying together like
this without talking for maybe fifteen minutes, his cum drooling from my
ass, puddling under me. It would be really something to lie together like
this an entire Saturday morning, and we'll be able to do that whenever we
want once we're in our apartment. I get shivers thinking about that.

He knows I'll happily be with him like this until the sun comes up, so
Ronny says, "Time to get up, baby. Teach me to dance." I snuggle against
him tighter, mumbling, "Can't we stay like this a little longer, Ronny?"

He murmurs, "Ya know, Richie, it's kind of cute how you encourage me to
be in charge by acting submissive as if I'm some big dominant guy, then
not do what I tell you to do. It's a sneaky cute trick you're using on
me."

"Oh, I don't know about that, Ronny. I almost always do what I'm told.
And, honestly, I'm not purposely acting in any special way to get you to
do anything. I'm certainly not trying to trick you! It's just me being
me, and whatever you're doing is just right, anyhow. I think we're
perfect together as we are, just like this."

"Uh-huh, ha-ha, you cute fucker, of course, you like it this way because
you've got me exactly where you want me, don't ya? But, I don't care,
and, umm, you smell so good," and he rubs his nose back and forth on the
side of my head.

Ha, he's the one who smells good. After five more minutes of again
snuggling in silence, I turn my head to look into his eyes and say,
"Ronny, I was thinking about you using that Manscaping shit on me and got
chills. I hope we can use that sexy Manscaping kit tomorrow."

He nods, "Maybe, babe, we'll see how it goes after we move the furniture
into the apartment, but right now, teach me to dance!"

I burrow my head under his chin and tighten my arms around him. He goes,
"Balls; this is how you get me to act like I'm an in-charge bossy,
dominant asshole. Okay, here goes... c'mon, Richie, get up!" He pries my
arms from around him and slips out of bed, pulling me with him saying,
"Get up and teach my dumb ass to dance."

Making a face, I let him pull me out of bed, muttering, "I've got another
boner," and we both laugh. Ronny says, "Slow dancing first. Put on some
slow music from YouTube, and teach me to slow dance." He claps his hands,
"Let's go!"

"Yes, Ronny."

Not knowing when my parents would be back, we reluctantly put our clothes
on before dancing. Slow dancing is simple, and Ronny quickly picks up on
it. Of course, Billy always led when he danced with me, so that's how I
taught Ronny to dance, him leading. That works out well for him because
he'll be expected to lead when dancing with his bridesmaid partner.

Ronny's a pretty good athlete, so I'm surprised when he appears
uncoordinated doing simple, fast-dance moves. We settle on a few basic
fast dance moves, and then we dance them over and over until Ronny looks
natural doing these basic moves.

I finally step away, "You've totally got this, Ronny. You look natural
doing it, so your bridesmaid will probably tell you, 'Gee, you're a
really good dancer, Ronny. Will you be my boyfriend and fuck my snatch?'

We laugh our asses off, then he goes, "Oh, shit. That struck me so
funny... snatch. She'll need to be a very patient person if she's waiting
for me to fuck her snatch."

Grinning at him, I mumble, "Don't even joke about fucking some girl's
snatch," and we laugh again. Then I add, "Actually, you'll probably be a
better dancer than most of the other guys at the wedding."

"Thanks, Wallingford. Ya know, I wish we were old enough for the gay club
scene. I don't drink, but I'd like to see you drink, get drunk maybe, and
we'd dance the night away among the gay boys. That'd be cool!"

I nod, and we hug, not dancing so much as swaying in each other's arms.
Ronny murmurs, "Of course, the other gay boys will be hitting on my
ultra-cute boyfriend like crazy, so the next thing I need to learn how to
do is to fight, or maybe I'll carry a gun."

"Let's not ever go clubbing, Ronny. I'd rather stay home with you, and we
can do what we're doing right now."

A little later, I want to go to the Sears parking lot before my folks get
home, but Ronny said we're waiting for my parents.

"Okay, Ronny"

He puts his arm across my shoulders, explaining, "We want to continue
taking every opportunity for parents to get used to seeing us together as
boyfriends. So, let's go downstairs and watch TV until they get home."

Ronny turns on the TV, and we watch a Phillies game from the West Coast
with us sitting on the sofa, me against his side and his arm across my
shoulders, my head on his slim shoulder, the way Billy taught me to sit
with him. That's how we are when my Mom and Dad walk in. They don't look
startled that we're sitting intimately like this. Smiling at us and
breathing alcohol into the air, Mom says, "Hi, boys."

Ronny smiles brightly, saying, "Good evening, Mrs. Wallingford. Happy
anniversary!"

Mom says, "Thank you, Ronny," and my Dad asks, "What's the score?" I tell
him, "The Phillies are winning 5 to 2. How was dinner?"

Ronny leaves his arm around me as we talk with my parents for a few
minutes. Then he rubs my head and says to my parents, "I'm going to have
Gary drive me home now; it was nice talking with you. C'mon, Gary, let's
go."

"Yes, Ronny."

Wow, it sounded funny hearing Ronny call me Gary. I guess Ronny's
satisfied we've helped my parents get a tiny bit more used to seeing us
acting as gay boyfriends in love, which we are. Maybe he's right about
getting our parents used to the idea because Mom and Dad didn't appear
fazed at all that Ronny and I were in that amorous position on the sofa.
Ya know, I'm surprised I didn't feel awkward about it, but I didn't
because I always trust Ronny to do the right thing. I'm so proud of him
and so proud to be his boyfriend.

Then Ronny said it was too late to go to the Sears parking lot, so I
drove us to his house. We park in the alley and, seeing no lights on
inside, know his parents are sleeping. Grinning at one another, we take
our seatbelts off and make out for twenty minutes before I move my lips
off Ronny's, murmuring, "I'm going to cum in my pants again if, um... Ah,
oooh, Ronny, I think..."

He goes, "Shh, calm down, baby. Just lie against me like before; that's
it, do what I tell you."

He has an arm around me as my boner buzzes, making me squirm at how good
it feels. Ronny sternly says, "I want you to settle down, please!"
Nodding, I get docile, and he lightly rubs my head as he murmurs, "Good,
baby. How's that? Are you calming down?"

Oh God, I love this. "Yes, Ronny, this feels so nice." Another two
minutes, and he asks, "Are you okay now?"

Nodding my head against his shoulder, "Uh-huh, I'm okay. Please don't go
in yet, though. Stay with me a while longer, okay, Ronny?"

He tightens his arms around me, murmuring, "Jesus, you make me feel so
important. Feel like I'm a big deal..."

"You are a big deal."

He won't make out with me anymore, though, because he doesn't want me
driving home with wet cum in my underpants. As he starts getting out of
the car, I'm like, "C'mon, Ronny, at least give your boy a
kiss goodnight!"

We kiss, then he says, "Tomorrow, we move into the apartment. Did I tell
you that Billy said to be at his house no later than eleven o'clock?
You'll need to pick me up by ten-fifteen."

I nod, "Sure, I'll be here at ten o'clock! I'm getting really excited
about the apartment... super excited, Ronny! Can you believe we're
actually moving out in the world on our own? I'm kind of nervous about
it, aren't you?"

"What? Don't be nervous. Listen, there's nothing to worry about because
Underwood and I will take care of everything. Plus, the apartment is only
a forty-minute drive to your parent's house, so you can visit any time
you want."

"What? No! That's not it! I'm not worried about visiting my parents!
You're saying you're not nervous at all about the responsibility involved
with living on our own?"

Shaking his head slowly, he mutters, "No, I'm not. What's there to be
worried or nervous about? Jeez, Wallingford, a couple of million
nineteen-year-old guys and girls leave home for college every year. We're
not breaking new ground here."

"Hey, don't piss on me like that, okay? It hurts my feelings."

"Sorry, Richie, but I wasn't, um, intentionally... Listen, I'm sorry if I
hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to."

He cuddles with me as I grin to myself, sneaking a few kisses on
him. Finally, we kiss goodnight again. Driving home, I'm not mad at
Ronny. In fact, I'm still tingling all over from everything about our
excellent date tonight. I'm happier than I've ever been in my life!

Okay, Ronny's right that there's nothing to be nervous about. Still,
everything will be totally new for all of us, but so what? The fantastic
thing is Ronny's becoming everything I've ever dreamed he'd be. Most
importantly, he's replaced Billy Underwood in my love life, while Billy's
become the loving older brother I've always wished I had. An older
brother who is meticulous about looking out for me. I mean, Billy even
had to approve of his replacement boyfriend; then, he's making sure the
replacement's taken care of me properly.

Haha, taking care of me. What a crock of shit that is, but I like being
taken care of, even when I don't need it. Everybody sometimes needs to be
helped along, a little bit of being taken care of. Seriously, my brain
can barely believe my good fortune of having Billy Underwood's
hand-picked replacement, Ronny Lynch, in my life. It's like a huge
payback for my less-than-stellar first seventeen years.

Saturday morning, I'm jumpy with anticipation about moving into our
apartment and sleeping with Ronny tonight. Driving to pick him up, I'm
thinking about all that stuff he was saying last night. Some good stuff
and some not-so-good. And as I was just joking about, Ronny now agrees
with Billy that I need someone to look out for me even though, as I've
indicated a dozen times, it's not necessary. It's turned into a fun thing
for me to play along with, though. Ronny likes being the man, our leader,
so it's fun for both of us when he acts like he's taking care of me.
Overall, it's sort of a good thing while simultaneously being
horrendously insulting to me... haha! So that's the part that's not so
good.

And, as I said before, the all-good thing is Ronny admitting he's the
'man,' my man, and admitting he's enjoying that position now. He never
thought he'd ever be anyone's 'man' or be in charge of anything, but he
didn't know me when he thought that.

When I pull up across the street from Ronny's house, I see him sitting on
his stoop, talking into his cell phone. Staring at him for a few seconds,
I get emotional at how much he's come to mean to me, and my eyes tear up
and sting a little. It's just that I'm so happy, and I love him so much
it's almost frightening. Wiping my eyes, I hit the horn, and he looks
over and smiles that smile that gives me shivers. I smile back at him as
hard as I can and watch him chuckling at me for over-smiling.

Dodging traffic, he jogs across the street to the car and gets in the
passenger seat, still talking on the phone, saying, "Okay, we're leaving
now." Ending the call, he looks at me, "Hi, my beautiful boyfriend."

"Hi, Ronny," and we lean to each other and kiss.

As I slide the car into the traffic flow, Ronny says, "That was Underwood
on the phone. He's already borrowed the pickup, and he and his brother
have loaded all the stuff from his garage that's going to the apartment."

"Holy shit, that's almost half the furniture we're moving today. Is
Charlie helping us unload at the apartment too?"

"Yep, Charlie is sticking with us for the whole move. He is almost as
cool as Billy, but you do not want to let him talk you into a haircut!"

We laugh, looking at one another, then Ronny goes, "Um, keep your eyes on
the road, Wallingford."

"Yes, Ronny."

At Billy's house, we all do guy hugs, then Ronny's talking and chuckling
with Charlie. I see Ronny touches his hair, so I think I know what
they're talking about... haha.

Meanwhile, Billy puts his arm around my waist, pulling me against him,
saying, "Walk over here with me, Gary. We'll sit on the swing."

I sort of meld against his side as we sit on the swinging loveseat.
Leaving his arm around me, Billy says, "Goddamn, you're looking cuter
than ever, Gary," and he makes a kissing motion with his lips. My heart
pounds as I lean my head over, and we kiss on the lips. Billy puts a hand
on the back of my head, and he slowly moves his tongue over mine and
against the front of my bottom teeth. My dick gets so hard I groan, but
don't take my head away.

Snickering, Billy says, "That's all I wanted to do, Gary. Get a taste of
you."

Hmm, he smells and tastes so good. Staring at him smiling, he looks so
cute wearing glasses. Billy pushes off with his foot, and the swing
swings as he asks, "Do you still love me?"

Gulping, I nod, "Of course I do."

He squeezes my nose, mumbling, "Yeah, I know you do. Goddamn, though,
sometimes I regret giving you up. Is everything okay? Lynch taking good
care of you?"

I nod, "Uh-huh, everything is wonderful, and Ronny's my man, but I miss
you."

He still has his arm around my waist, holding me against his side as he
reaches over with his other hand and runs his fingers through my short
hair, front to back, "You need a haircut, Gary." I shiver will sexy
chills.

"I was going to go on Tuesday, um..."

He shrugs and says,  "Whatever, and yeah, I know how and why you miss me.
I'm sure Lynch is doing his best. When we're in the apartment, you'll be
able to see me every 'effing day, so that'll be soon, but I'm not staying
this weekend."

Nodding, "Oh, um, do you miss me?"

Billy lights a cigarette, holds the filter to my lips, and says, "I'm not
feeling gayness, Gary. Listen to me; what I want to tell you is do not
get any crazy ideas about me being your boyfriend again. You're to stick
with Lynch, but if anything is ever bothering you, you come to tell me
about it."

I nod, "Okay, Billy."

I've always been totally docile with Billy, and I'm still like that
sitting next to him as he touches me here and there, this time squeezing
the back of my neck, giving me more chills, asking quietly, "How'd you
like that?"

Grinning, I go, "You know I loved it. It gave me chills."

He smirks at me, looking so cool in his eyeglasses, then takes a drag off
his cigarette, exhales through his nose and mouth, then says, "Gary, you
know how much I like you, right? So, over the months and years of
college, whenever I get an itch, you'll be the one I'll choose to scratch
it for me. I'd never give it away to someone else; you'll always be my
number one boy. We've got three years in the apartment, and that's a long
time, ya know, so who can predict what might happen? I'm telling you it's
okay for you to be open for whatever."

My heart goes pitter-patter because he likes me so much, but he doesn't
need to advise me to stick with Ronny. Nothing could get me to leave
Ronny. Even Billy couldn't get me to leave Ronny.

Billy grins at me, which makes my dick tighten up even harder. He nods,
then lets go of me. "Stand up, Gary."

We get up, and he mumbles, "Okay, here comes Charlie. Remember what I
said!" He rubs my head, grinning and mumbling, "I'll see you at your
uncle's place."

"Yeah, um, see you there, Billy..." With my boner throbbing, I watch him
get in the pickup with Charlie in the driver's seat. They're waiting for
me to show them the way to my aunt's and uncle's house. From the shotgun
seat of my new, used car, Ronny calls, "Let's get moving, Wallingford!"

I'm like, 'Huh? Oh, yeah, of course." I get in and drive us away, leading
Charlie and Billy to Uncle Tony's house, where my parents have furniture
stored in their attic.

Uncle Tony's working at his barbershop, but my aunt lets us in and tells
me, "Your parents were thinking of donating the furniture to the
Salvation Army, but your apartment is getting it instead."

I already knew that but smiled and said, "Oh, yeah? Well, we really do
need the beds."

After we've loaded both disassembled twin beds, their mattresses, and two
bureaus onto the pickup, we drive through Philly, past Ronny's house, to
Mr. and Mrs. Lynch's rental storage unit in the Delaware County's Rental
facility. The storage facility is like attached small garages located
only a mile from their house. From their storage unit, we get a
disassembled double bed, a smelling double mattress, and a kitchen set.
When it is all loaded on the overloaded pickup truck, then that's it.
We're off to the apartment.

At the apartment complex, Billy stops at the office to get the keys. In
my new, used, idling car, Ronny and I grin happily at one another, then
hold hands. Ronny says, "We're weird, baby." I'm like, "No, we're not!
We'll be sleeping together mere hours away."

He squeezes my shoulder and murmurs, "Tonight's the night. And, Goddamn,
I'll love looking at your cute face first thing in the morning," and he
squeezes my hand. We love touching. I'm jittery with excitement and
thrilled that Ronny's so generous about showing me affection.

We unload all the furniture, then set up the kitchen, living room, and
two bedrooms. Billy gets the larger bedroom with the twin beds, and we
get the smaller bedroom with the double bed and overripe mattress. Both
rooms have a bureau and a chair. Billy has the desk that was in his
bedroom at home, but he needs to buy sheets and blankets for the twin
beds. He hadn't planned on sleeping here tonight anyway.

Ronny and I didn't think to bring either of the desks from our bedrooms,
but we remembered towels, a shower curtain, and toiletry stuff for the
bathroom. So, we'd be done with the move-in, except for one thing; Ronny
points out to everyone that the mattress for our double bed stinks with
mildew.

I say, "It doesn't smell that bad, Ronny. We can put a plastic sheet
under the regular sheets."

Charlie, Billy's older brother, shakes his head and says, "Fuck that,
Gary. There's no way you boys can sleep on this mattress. It needs to go
to the dumpster."

Ronny and I look at one another, and I shake my head, like, 'No! Don't
say you agree!' I'm mad that he brought attention to the stinky mattress
in the first place. I don't even want to think how disappointed I'll be
if we can't sleep here tonight.

Ronny puts his arm across my shoulders and mumbles, "Sorry, Richie, but I
couldn't sleep on that!" Taking his arm off my shoulders, he walks over
to the mattress and makes a face, smelling it. Even though I know how
disappointed he is about this, he further demonstrates his maturity by
saying, "It blows, but Charlie's right; this mattress has gotta go."

Looking at me, he shrugs, "We'll buy a mattress and a desk today. And
yeah, unfortunately, they probably won't be delivering the stuff until
Monday."

I could fucking scream! We had every fucking thing set up. All we had to
do was walk downstairs and out the door, and that would have been that! I
had this night of sleeping with Ronny so built up in my head that it was
a foregone conclusion... and now it's not. Trying not to be a baby about
it, though, trying to be cool, I shrug, "Yeah, I guess you're right, but
what a bummer."

My eyes were stinging like mad as I faked being mature in dealing with
this enormous disappointment. Billy and Ronny look at one another, then
at me, but I won't make eye contact. The truth is, I feel like crying
with frustration and throwing all kinds of shit at the mattress. It's
beyond frustrating that we need to wait another two or three days before
sleeping together; I'm furious!

My eyes are still stinging like mad and now feeling moist, but, as I
said, I'm not making eye contact, and thank God no tears developed.
Ronny, looking sympathetic, hugs my shoulders again and turns me away
from the guys, whispering, "Be cool about this, baby."

I make a face like, 'Get real, I'm fine...'

He nods, murmuring, "Uh-huh," and then motions to Billy, who makes a
face, then sighs because he's seen examples of how disappointed I can get
about things. He comes over and grins, mumbling, "C'mon, Gary, it'll only
be a couple more days."

Oh man, I'm really liking the attention, but I fake being annoyed by it.
 "I'm fine, for Christ's sake!"

Billy's being so sweet to care about my disappointment. He rubbed my head
again and murmured, "Well, good then. You being okay; that's all I wanted
to be sure of..."

Ronny's still got his arm across my shoulders, so I don't know who to
lean against; then Billy says to Charlie, "C'mon, bro, let's take this
piece of shit mattress to the dumpster," and he and Charlie pick it up
off the bed frame.

Ronny and I watch the Underwood brothers struggle with the mattress.
Ronny mumbles, "Thanks a lot, guys," and when they have the mattress
downstairs, he asks me again, "Are you sure you're okay?" I put my arms
around him, sigh, then say, "Yeah, I guess, but it's so 'effing
disappointing, Ronny. Goddammit, why does shit like this always happen?"

Fully lying against Ronny, he has both arms around me now, and it feels
so good being comforted that I let my guard down, and a few pent-up
burning tears of disappointment slide out. Ronny makes a face showing
sympathy, then wipes the tears off my cheek with his thump as I mumble,
"I held off these frustrated tears of disappointment because I didn't
want to let you down. Embarrass you that your boyfriend's a big crybaby."

He wipes another tear off my cheek as I'm talking too loudly, "That
fucking mattress, though! What a piece of shit that thing is! Why didn't
we check it instead of simply assuming it would be okay? And why didn't
someone say something about the mildew smell before we carried it
upstairs, Ronny? We were going to sleep here, and then..."

"Okay, babe. That's enough! You're getting loud and worked up again. Stop
it!"

Nodding and looking away, I mumble, "Well, why aren't you pissed off
about this?"

His arms hugged me around my waist, "I am pissed off and disappointed,
but it's only two or three days, and then we'll have a brand-new mattress
that no one else has ever slept on, plus almost two months of living
together in our apartment before college classes start. I'm focusing on
the positives; all that time you and I will be doing things together,
we'll be inseparable, which reminds me. Um, I asked my supervisor at ACME
Market if there are openings for bag boys, and she said you should apply
at the service counter first thing Monday. There's one opening, so we
might be working together."

"Wow, seriously?" I hug him back, "You're right; it's only a couple of
days, but I was so sure..."

As he wipes two more tears off my cheek, he sounds a little bit
frustrated, "Okay, okay. You've said all that already, and I told you to
stop it!"

I go, " Yes, Ronny. It's just, well, okay. Um, thanks for putting up with
my frustration, but you must admit... oh, never mind."

He won't take his arms from around me, so I rest my forehead on his
shoulder. It feels so good to be hugged, to be taken care of, I guess.
Really good feeling to be loved and cared about! He quietly murmurs,
"Think of good things. Speaking of which, you have the perfect body to
hug, and you know how much I like the way you smell."

Now I'm getting really emotional, which can produce more tears than being
pissed off and frustrated. I mean, Ronny's being so nice, so
understanding and supportive. I mumble, "Thanks, Ronny. I'm sorry about
this."

"Don't be. I like taking care of you. It makes me feel special."

My forehead's still on his shoulder; a tear runs down my cheek as I grin
and murmur, "I'm getting another boner, Ronny."

He mutters, "Shocker."

We both chuckle, then I ask, "Ah, did you get a chance to talk to Billy
about our bedrooms being right next to one another?"

He moves a hand from around me to rub up my back, then up the back of my
head, saying, "This is nice, you lying against me like this." I'm as
docile for Ronny as I was earlier for Billy.

I murmur, "That feels good. Did you talk to Billy?"

Kissing my cheek, Ronny says, "Yeah, Billy and I talked, and he thought I
was nuts for even mentioning it. He told me he is intimately familiar
with your, um, elaborate responses when climaxing, and he's looking
forward to hearing a lot of squeals coming from our bedroom. I guess he
wants to ensure I'm taking care of you properly, or frequently, or
something. He said that we shouldn't even think about him being next
door, but he does want to hear you squealing a lot."

I'm like, "Holy shit! Ha-ha, well, now the pressure is on you 'cause
Billy's going to be paying attention."

Ronny shakes his head, "Nope, no pressure. You'll be squealing plenty. We
might even keep Billy up some nights."

The Underwood brothers come back upstairs, so Ronny and I let go of one
another. Billy says, "Let's walk through the two bedrooms and bath up
here, then the kitchen and living room downstairs to see what we still
need, and then Charlie and I need to return the truck."

The four of us walk through the apartment, nodding that we did a good
job, but we need to buy dished, some throw rugs and a coffee table in
front of the sofa. Billy and Charlie are off to return the pickup while
Ronny and I drive to Bob's Discount Furniture in Philadelphia.

We buy a small desk, two swivel desk chairs, and a mattress for a double
bed. It wasn't very expensive. I had a check in my wallet, so I wrote a
check for everything, and Ronny said he'd pay me in cash for his half
when he gets paid at ACME. Everything will be delivered, not Monday, but
Tuesday. Ronny and I need to be at the apartment Tuesday morning to let
the delivery men in.

We'll finally have our first night together Tuesday. Meanwhile, Billy is
helping his brother paint some rooms in their house, saving their parents
money, so he won't be staying at the apartment until the following
weekend.

After buying the mattress and desk, Ronny and I eat lunch, move some of
our clothes to the apartment, and then sit in the living room with Ronny
muttering, "We forgot about a TV?"

We both have a TV in our bedroom, so tomorrow we'll bring both TVs, plus
our computers and other electronics. One TV for our bedroom and one for
the living room. Ronny says, "There are probably other things we haven't
thought of, but we did a great job today. Don't you think?."

"You did a great job, Ronny. I acted like a baby. Sorry..."

Haha, that got him babying me a little more to make me feel better about
acting like a baby earlier... haha.  Then, later, we drove to Billy's
house to pick up our sets of keys. Billy had duplicates made of the keys
he got earlier. Then, Ronny and I hang around at Billy's because we like
hooking up with him. On the back porch, Billy lights a cigarette and,
nodding his head toward me, asks Ronny, "Did you smooth everything over
about the mattress horseshit?"

I say, "I'm right here, Billy; you can ask me. And there wasn't anything
Ronny needed to smooth over. We'll have a new mattress, not that piece of
shit one, and we'll have two months to do whatever we want, so what's
there to smooth over?"

Ronny waits for me to finish, then says to Billy, "Yeah, I talked it out
with Gary, and he's good with it now."

I shake my head, rolling my eyes but Billy pays no attention to that. He
chuckles, saying, "Well, anyway, I'll be Goddamn if you two weren't the
sweetest thing ever today. Holy shit, my brother, Charlie, who's normally
a tad homophobic, was watching you two and said you guys were cute with
that thing where you were always within an arm's length of one another
almost always touching each other. He likes you guys."

Oh, what a nice thing to tell us! Ronny and I exchanged looks, proud that
we got praised by Billy and his brother; then Ronny said, "Well, it's all
thanks to you, Billy. Right, Gary?"

God, I get squirmy now whenever he calls me Gary now, and he did it twice
in the last couple of minutes. As I'm thinking that, Ronny and I
unconsciously put an arm across each other's shoulders, and I say, "Yeah,
thank you, Billy. And, ah, I want to tell you something. Um, don't take
this wrong. I mean it in the most positive, complimentary way imaginable,
but, um, lately, I've been thinking of you as the super-loving big
brother I've always wanted and who I idolize."

He squints and mutters, "No shit? I'm your big brother, huh? Well, yeah,
that's pretty 'effing cool; no problem. That's some hot shit stuff right
there, Gary."

My eyes start stinging again as I murmur, "And I'm so grateful for
everything you've done for me, Billy. Nobody could have a better big
brother than you, and thank you so much for setting Ronny and me up."

Ronny goes, "Yeah, me too, Billy."

Billy chuckles and holds his cigarette to my lips. I take a drag as he
mutters, "Man, oh man, it's obvious that if I hadn't hooked you two
numbnuts up, you'd be floundering around for years."

As I exhale smoke, he rubs my head for the fifth or sixth time today,
saying to me, "Especially you, honeybunch. Ronny's mature for a
nineteen-year-old, so I had confidence in him taking care of you. It
didn't take a genius to match you two losers up."

Ronny quickly says, "Ah, for the record, I was twenty last month, Billy."

"Oh? Good for you, Ronny. I was twenty over a year ago. Anyway, I'm
sorry, guys, but you'll need to leave now. I'm going out to dinner with
Charlie and my folks, so I need to change. Listen, I don't really think
you're losers. I was kidding about that. I like you guys a lot, and I
wouldn't be sharing an apartment with losers... would I? Text me
tomorrow, Lynch. Maybe we can all get together. See you, boys."

We do guy hugs, then Ronny and I talk about Billy as I'm driving Ronny
home. I have many more Billy stories than Ronny does, so I do most of the
talking. Then, at his house, I don't want to leave him, so I go inside
with him, and, lying on his bed fully clothed, we make out until I squirt
some precum in my underpants and mutter, "Wait, Ronny... I'm going to cum
in my underpants again."

Ronny gets a little annoyed. "Damn, Wallingford, now I'm afraid to get
too deeply into a make-out with you for fear you'll cum in your pants."

Frowning, I go, "I'm sorry," and he immediately changes his tone. Putting
his arm around me, "No, don't be sorry. I'm the one who's sorry. What a
dick I am for getting annoyed with you, who only wants to please me.
Goddammit, don't listen to me when I get bitchy. It's flattering that you
get so turned on by me that you cum in your pants."

Before I can say anything to that, Mrs. Lynch calls up to us, "Is Richie
staying for dinner?"

We look at each other, "Should I stay, Ronny?" He nods and calls out,
"Yeah, Mom, he's staying!"

Grinning, we kiss, then I take out my cell phone and call my Mom. She
thought I'd be at the apartment tonight, so she wasn't expecting me for
dinner anyway. Mom says, "How did everything turn out today, honey?"

Damn, I need to be better at keeping my parents updated on what's
happening with me. I tell her everything that happened today and why I'll
be sleeping at home tonight and every night until Tuesday.

Then, remembering how Ronny was blaming himself for acting annoyed with
me, grinning at him, I mumble, "What were you saying? Something about
your bad behavior."

We laugh and hug, then he mutters, "I was apologizing for being a dick."

Using a finger, I swipe his bangs over to the side of his forehead,
murmuring, "Oh, yeah, that's right. Should I tell Billy you're yelling at
me all the time?"

He snickers, "No, don't be a tattletale. You'll get me in trouble."

I take his glasses off and clean them. After gently putting his glasses
back on him, we kiss and then hug some more as my eyes sting, then a
couple of tears roll down my cheeks. I say, "I'm so happy, Ronny. I love
you so much I get overly emotional," and he again wipes my tears with the
pad of his thumb, "That's okay, Wallingford, but I never knew a guy
who cried as much as you."

I go, "It's NOT crying! It's joyousness or something. Very emotional
stuff!"

He nods, "Uh-huh. Whatever, I love that you get emotional over us, over
me."

During dinner, Mr. Lynch makes me feel like part of the family
by including me when he says, "You boys need to be here for dinner a week
from tomorrow. I know you'll most likely be at your college apartment
when your grandparents are here for dinner, but both of you need to be
here too. Any problem with that, Richie?"

I mumbled, "No, sir, I'll be with Ronny," and Ronny said, "Sure, okay,
we'll visit with Grandmom and Granddad, but we're going back to the
apartment after dinner."

Mrs. Lynch says, "First, you'll spend time with your grandparents and
they get to meet Richie. And Richie, you're welcome to sleep here
tonight, or any night you want. Ronny's is a double bed, as you know.
Plus, your apartment is only twenty minutes from here, so we want to see
you boys frequently."

Glancing at Ronny, I see him roll his eyes, then mutter, "Thanks,
Mother," then, not sounding enthusiastic, he asks me, "Do you want to
stay here tonight?"

I was thrilled to be invited, but Ronny doesn't appear thrilled. Well, I
am, and I smile brightly at Mrs. Lynch. She smiles back, then reaches
over and pats the back of my hand, saying to Ronny, "You need to try
being as sweet as your boyfriend."

Ronny mutters, "That's impossible, Mom. I tried, but nobody is as sweet
as my Richie."

We drive to the Sears parking lot and agree, for old-time's sake, to come
here even when we're living in the apartment. Ha ha, in the back seat,
Ronny jokingly makes me take my pants off before we make out because I've
been shooting off in my pants lately.

I take my pants off, and Billy fiddles with my dick as we talk about me
spending the night at his house. I desperately want to do that, but Ronny
feels it'd be too awkward, and he decided we'll wait until Tuesday to
sleep together. Yeah, we're both surprised he came to that decision. If I
were the leader, we'd sleep together tonight in Ronny's boyhood bed. How
cool would that be?

Wow, then Ronny, maybe feeling guilty about his decision, says, "I know
I'm disappointing you about the sleepover, so," and he really gets into a
super-hot make-out with me, and in short order, I'm totally docile for
him, moaning, my dick an iron rod. I get as submissively docile as I ever
gotten for Billy. Yeah, Ronny's learned how to be dominant in making love
with me, and it gets me so hot to be his docile, submissive bottom that
I'm swooning again.

A few minutes later, I murmur, "Oh, Ronny, wait! I'm gonna cum..." And
this time, I do, shooting a straight shot of boiling hot creamy cum that
splatters on Ronny's shirt.

I'm panting and shuddering as Ronny's wiping at his shirt with Kleenex,
mumbling, "Goddamn, I should have known better. I wanted to make you cum,
and Holy shit, how about that, baby? Did I get what I deserved, or what?
My shirt is soaking with cum from your huge cum shot."

Oh, Gawd, that felt good! After deep breaths, I say, "You are so sexy and
hot!" He nods, still snickering, and I'm like, "Hey, Ronny, wasn't that
nice at dinner the way your parents treated me as if I was their son? I
mean their son-in-law."

Reaching over with fresh Kleenex, Ronny wipes drooling cum off the head
of my dick, saying, "Oh, yeah. I didn't think of it like that at first,
though, but yeah, Dad expected you to do what I have to do, so you're in
the family now."

Ronny gets undressed, and I finish doing that, too, by taking my shirt
off. Both of us naked, he says, "Richie, do that thing where you ride my
boner. Wait a second; I've got one of those new condoms."

"Don't wear a condom, Ronny. I like feeling your bare boner inside me,"
and he goes, "I'll bet if we did a test, you wouldn't be able to tell the
difference."

Maybe not, but he does what I asked, anyway. He rubs the condom's
slippery lube on his hard cock, and then on my asshole. I sit on his lap,
facing him, and fuck myself on Ronny's almost four-inch-long boner, my
arms around his neck, our faces together, and both of us quietly
moaning.

Two hours later, Ronny gets me bent over the back seat and fucks me
again. This time it's a hard fucking, Ronny being very dominant, smacking
my ass, and Omigod, that hot dominant sex felt so good I forgive him for
not letting me sleep with him tonight.

We lie together naked on the back seat for a half hour in silence, Ronny
licking and doing little bites at a spot on my neck, giving me a stinging
hickey, just like he said he would earlier today. My dick is like a short
flagpole by the time he's finished with the hickey. Finally, Ronny
murmurs, "C'mon, Gary, we've been here almost three hours. Time for me to
get home."

We get dressed, and as I'm driving us off the Sears parking lot, Ronny
mumbles, "Holy shit! That's a beauty of a hickey I did for you."

Sunday morning, wearing a white dress shirt and tie, I'm driving back
through Philly to Ronny's. I dress up a little going to church every
Sunday with Ronny and his parents. They don't dress up for church, but
since I started doing it the first Sunday, I've continued to dress up a
little each Sunday after that because Ronny likes me doing it. He said it
makes him proud of me, and his parents are impressed too.

Parking on the street, I enter the front door, and his Mom says, "Good
morning, honey. You look so nice, but please go up and hurry your
boyfriend along. He's running late."

"Yes, ma'am."

In Ronny's room, we look at one another and freeze for a few seconds.
Seeing him is almost physical, and sometimes it makes my eyes tear up.
Smiling, he buttons his shirt, nods his head for me to come to him, and
he opens his arms. He hugs me and kisses the side of my face, mumbling,
"Every time I see you, it's like the world stops spinning for a few
seconds. I get excited like it's our first time together."

"Me too, Ronny."

"Yeah, well, I overslept. Um, I've gotta hurry getting dressed, baby. Get
my loafers from the closet, please."

I like doing things for him!

At church, without thinking, when we sit down, I pick up his hand and
hold it in both of mine. He bumps my side with an elbow, and when I
glance at him, he smiles and looks down at our hands. I smirk and squeeze
his hand. Some of the people who know the Lynches now know that Ronny and
I are gay. It's okay to be openly gay in this church.

After the two-hour service, I lose sight of Ronny among the two hundred
churchgoers all filing outside to congregate, talk, and whatnot. Mrs.
Lynch calls to me, "Over here, Richie!" Then, "Where did Ronny get to?"

Shaking my head, "I don't know, Mrs. Lynch. He was right next to me,
but..."

She interrupts, saying, "He'll be along. I want you to meet my sister,
Ronny's Aunt, Mary Rollings," and a woman holds out her hand to me. I
shake her hand as Mrs. Lynch asks her sister, "Isn't he gorgeous, Mary?"
Then to me, "I'm sorry for embarrassing you, Richie," and Mrs. Rollings
says, "I wish the best for you and my nephew. It's very nice meeting you,
Rich."

Then I'm saved from thinking of something appropriate to say as Ronny
hugs me from behind, asking his aunt, sort of what his mom asked, "Isn't
he spectacular, Aunt Mary?"

I'm blushing as they talk about me, then Ronny says to me, "C'mon over
here, babe. I've got something to tell you that I thought would be so
cool, but now I'm starting to think I should have asked you first."

"What is it, Ronny? And no need to ask me 'cause you know I'll go along
with whatever you want."

Nodding, "Yes, that's what I thought, but thanks for reassuring me."

I shrug, "So, what is it?"

He smiles, "Um, well, last week, I put our names in for the annual raffle
that will determine who gets to be this coming fiscal year's church
ushers; you know, the young men who collect the offering? Ah, they have
other obligations too, that I'll tell you about. Anyway, we won. You and
I are among the six boys chosen at random from all the submitted
applications. It's an honor to be an usher."

I don't know what to say, so I don't say anything, and Ronny goes on,
"I'm thrilled, actually, so forgive me for carrying on like this. Oh man,
um, we'll need to buy the blue blazers that ushers wear and the tan khaki
pants. Ah, and I hope you won't get mad, but we'll also need to attend
the Wednesday night services plus, as I said, a few other things ushers
need to do."

I nod again, then smile, and Ronny smiles, asking, "Are you excited,
Richie? I am; I've wanted to be an usher since I was a little kid. Mom
and Dad are going to be proud of us. Um, you aren't mad, are you?"

Shaking my head, "No, I'm not mad. I'm happy for you, and I'll gladly go
with you to services every night if you want. I only wanna be with you."

He grins, "That's the Hootie &The Blowfish line! Right?"

I nod, "Uh-huh. Let's tell Mom and Dad."

He goes, "You said, Mom and Dad. That's so cool of you. C'mon, they
almost are your Mom and Dad, for real. They'll be your in-law's mom and
dad. C'mon, they're going to be thrilled that we're ushers. As I said,
it's an honor to serve our church. You know, we're going to be married in
this church; they affirm all LGBTQ people. We're proud to be members,
right?"

"Oh, yes, Ronny, for sure."

His parents are indeed thrilled when they hear that Ronny and I will be
ushers for a year starting the first Sunday in August. We'll need to
attend usher training the next four Sundays after service. Both Mr. and
Mrs. Lynch hug Ronny and me.

I don't get it; don't get the significance of this so-called honor.
Frankly, I could do without the Wednesday night service too, but I don't
mind the Sunday service, and I'll do anything for Ronny.

This morning, when I got to Ronny's, I saw I was low on gas, so we rode
to church with his parents. Now, after church service, then brunch, we're
going back to Ronny's house, sitting in the backseat of his dad's car,
holding hands and listening to a Christian music CD that's playing on the
car's CD player.

Ronny and I exchange grins as I'm in a dreamy state of mind, so happy I'm
swooning again. Ronny squeezes my hand, pulling on it a little to get me
to slide over, getting tighter against him. Nodding, I scooch over
tighter against him, and he whispers in my ear, "I've got to wait until
after Bobby's wedding to get a summer haircut like yours, but you don't
need to wait two weeks. Get a haircut before you pick me up tomorrow
morning, okay?"

Nodding, "Yes, Ronny." Ill bet Billy told Ronny to tell me that.

He says, "Billy said he had you on a three-week haircut schedule, so is
it okay with you if you, you know, continue doing that? I think Billy's
going to be checking up on me."

I shrug, "I don't care, but Billy was on the same schedule, not just me.
He had this crazy idea that our haircuts were magical or something."

Ronny nods, "Yeah, he told me something like that. Anyway, I like feeling
your really short hair, so get a haircut tomorrow. Right after a haircut,
it feels, um, really boyish or something. I like it on you, but I'm not
so sure I'll like it on me."

"I don't mind, but you need to stick to it too."

He frowns, "Nah, I don't want to do that."

Shaking my head, grinning at him, I mumble, "I love you so much, Ronny.
Uncle Tony's barbershop is closed on Monday. I'll go Tuesday."
Then, glancing at the front seat, the music playing,  I move my lips
against his ear, whispering, "I got a boner when you told me to get a
haircut tomorrow."

He shrugs, "Well, you're the one who made me our bossy leader, and now
I'm accepting the responsibility of doing it the best way I know how."

I'm smiling so hard it makes Ronny chuckles, then mutter, "I know you
like me telling you to do something," and he gets his arm around my neck,
pulling my head against his, then kissing my forehead; he murmurs, "I
love you."

Resting the side of my head on his shoulder, we listen to rock-style
Christian music until Mr. Lynch parks in the alley behind their row home.
Ronny takes his arm off me, telling me, "We'll slide out your side,
baby."

As I slide over and open the door, he says, "Thanks for driving, Dad. Um,
Richie and I are going to pick up my prescription sunglasses that Mom was
so nice to buy for me. Thanks, Mom!"

I say, "Thank you for brunch, Mr. and Mrs. Lynch!"

Ronny and I get in my new, used car, and he says, "It's only two blocks
to the gas station. Get gas; then we'll drive into town and get my
sunglasses."

"Yes, Ronny." I grin to myself after saying that because Ronny didn't
need to tell me to get gas. I know I need gas. That's why we rode to
church with his parents, but he likes to tell me what to do, and he was
right... I like him doing it. It gives me boners. We're in a perfect
relationship that gets more perfect every day.

And I've been invited to so many wonderful things over the past fourteen
months; it has my head spinning in the best way possible while my heart
glows with love and happiness.

I'm loved by Ronny and included in the Lynch family. My parents are super
supportive of Ronny and me, plus I have what amounts to a fantastic big
brother in Billy Underwood, who treats me as if I'm special. There are
many more wonderful things for me to look forward to when Ronny, Billy,
and I begin living in our apartment, and then I'll begin my first year of
college, doing everything with Ronny.

Everything I do will be with this young man who I love so much and who
loves me so much. Yeah, we say cringe-worthy words of love to one
another, but so what? It gets us laughing and having fun.

Tomorrow I'll do what Ronny told me to, and apply for a bag boy job at
ACME Market, then Tuesday, get my haircut. Right now, I drive him to get
his new glasses. Tuesday night Ronny and I will sleep together for the
first time. Omigod, be still my heart!

Life for me is just starting, and I find I don't need to be invited
anymore. I've been invited plenty since Billy Underwood took me under his
wing and showed me the world, and now I'm living the hell out of it with
Ronny Lynch's love and help!

Our future is full of possibilities!

THE END

This is the end of Gary's need for an invitation to join the world. Our
protagonist with many names (Gary/Grant/Brant/Richie/Bud/Jerry/RW/ and,
of course, Wallingford) has grown up and is fully participating in his
now busy life. He needed a great deal of help from mostly Billy
Underwood, and then he got it from others too. Gary still acts
immaturely, but now it's more often intentional than not because Ronny
makes a game out of it. Gary made friends and then found true love in
Ronny Lynch after a false start with Billy, or was it?

I'm stopping the story here because Gary's outgrown the need to be
invited. Moving forward, the boys sharing an apartment and going to
college would be a whole new story... one not titled INVITED.

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