DYLAN!
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
After Robby left, I fell back to sleep until I felt I was suffocating. With my mind in a fog: am I dreaming or am I dying? Opening my eyes I see Chubby's smiling face looming over me. He was covering my mouth and clamping my nostrils lightly together, and continued doing so even after he knew I was awake. I'm lying immobile, staring into his big, bright, smiley eyes. Chubby had a fresh buzzed haircut, part of last night's window washer boys' Saturday night meeting. He looked good, so clean-cut and cute with the short hairs on his head still damp from his morning shower. The dimples on either side of his mischievously grinning mouth made him look like he was twelve years old.
We stared into one another's eyes. Then, he took his hand off my mouth and asked, "Where's Robby?" I said, "Nine o'clock Mass." Chubby made a kissing sound, and said, "Did I ever mention that you're cuter that Rosemarie Turner, who was in my homeroom last year. I wanted to boink her in the worse way, but she wanted nothing to do with me, so maybe I'll boink you instead." I said, "Please do," and we both laughed.
I got out of bed, and Chubby, wearing only his running shorts, hopped into the space on my bed, I'd just vacated. His bare chest was taut,
hairless, perfectly formed. I stared at his small nipples which appeared to be erect, my attention thus diverted, Chubby took the opportunity to get me in a headlock. The feel of his bare silky-smooth skin against the side of my face, his strong thin arm around my neck was so familiar and so sexy, I sprung an immediate stiffy. Inhaling Chubby's scent got my stiffy harder still. I pretended to fight back but in reality, he could hold me like this for an hour or more as far as I was concerned. Loosening his grip, he yelled, "Eww! "I just rolled onto something wet. Please tell me you peed the bed, and it's not..."
What it was, of course, was a glob of Robby's cum blasted on the sheets during our morning fuck. I couldn't hold back the laughter for long; it struck me as so funny. I laughed out loud and, talking through my laughter, I took blame for the cum, saying, "It was an accidental, nocturnal emission."
Chubby mutters, "You're not jerking off enough!" We're both laughing from awkwardness, but it was funny, too. Chubby wiped his
finger in it and pretended to lick it. I grunted, "Oh, gross," and jumped on the bed. I was a little surprised at how much stronger Chubby had gotten from doing the window washer's job. As usual, our wrestling match ended up more like hugging, then anything else, although Chubby still
maintained the pretense that I needed to give up before he'd let me go.
I love to wrestle with Chubby. Between Robby and Chubby, it had been a wonderful start to my day. He watched me do my morning pee which I'd managed to delay just long enough for my boner to subside. As I was peeing, Chubby told me one of Ricky's jokes. "An Irishman was stranded on a desert island for ten years when all of a sudden a young, gorgeous, blond girl appeared out of the ocean. The castaway was shocked of course and even more so when she took a fresh pack of cigarettes from the sleeve of her outfit. The guy smoked one and said, 'Faith and begorrah, I'd almost forgotten how good a cigarette can be.' The blond then opened a pouch on her other sleeve and produced a small bottle of Jameson's Irish Whiskey and the castaway takes some and proclaims 'Tis nectar of the Gods. Been ten years since me lips tasted anything so good.' At this point the gorgeous blond slowly begins unzipping the front of her wet suit, asking, 'How long since you last played around?' With tears in his eyes, the Irishman falls to the ground and sobbed, 'Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Don't tell me you got a set of golf clubs in there too!'
Chubby was laughing, so when he said the last line I could hardly make it out. I didn't need to hear it though because I was have a challenge keeping my pee stream in the toilet laughing at Chubby bizarre Irish accent which sounded like a Chinese guy learning English. I laughed till I couldn't catch my breath. Chubby, of course, thought I was laughing at the joke. He was leaning on my shoulder laughing as hard as I was and when he calmed down enough, he muttered, "I knew you'd like that joke cause it's about a gay guy."
"What? What are you talking about, Chub? He wasn't gay. The joke is that the Irish guy would rather play a round of golf then 'play around sexily." It's a stereotype joke, not about a gay man, but inferring Irishmen like to smoke, drink and play golf." Chubby says, "You're shitting me," and in a more serious tone, I ask, "Anyway, why would you think I care about a gay joke?" Chubby was like, "I'm kidding you, bro. For Christ sakes, I'm kidding, and if you don't mind, would you kindly stop playing with yourself. I'm standing right here."
I'd finish my piss and, without thinking, I was sliding the uncut foreskin of my penis on and off the head of my cock. It feels so good, and being totally relaxed around Chubby, I didn't give it a thought. Chubby and I have jerked each other off many times in years gone by.
Anyway, I did the rest of my morning toilet routine and then I got dressed. This Sunday morning's breakfast was eggs over easy, hash brown potatoes, thick sliced Oscar Myers bacon, orange juice, toasted Italian bread with butter, and Dunkin' coffee that I went off to buy.
We hardly bother to flip a coin to see who goes for the coffee anymore because I always lose, anyway. When I got back with the coffees everyone was up and the Moms were happy and bubbly, like always. This morning was one of those times they were full of compliments for Chubby and me. Both Moms talk as if Chubby and me are both their kids, like they both have two sons. That's only fair because we always think we have two moms. No fathers, but two moms.
Chubby's mom, Tris, says, "The older you boys are, the more handsome you look. I love that you're so clean-cut too. I wasn't crazy about either of you getting an earring at first, but now I think it's making a statement." They think we're perfect and they say that quite often, too. As we finished cooking the breakfast, Chubby and I exchanged glances while the Mom took turns complementing our cooking. They like how we cook, the way we look, the way we take care of ourselves, the way we stay out of trouble, and on and on. We enjoyed hearing it.
After breakfast, Chubby did his driving lesson and then the instructor had something to do before she took me on. So, Chubby and I are sitting on the steps waiting for Ms. Overbite to do my lesson. We think we can drive as good as her already. Sharing a cigarette, we're agreeing that later we'd do the four-mile run and then catch a movie at the multi-plex before having dinner with the Moms. This is a very nice Sunday, and I'm trying not to take good days for granted. I want to recognize and appreciate the good things in life, so when the bad things show up, I'll be stronger and maybe better able to handle them.
As soon as Chubby spotted the car with the driver training sign on its roof, he said, "Here she comes. See you, bro. Good luck." Then he disappeared up the steps and inside the condo. I watched him go because I like looking at his backside. Then, I'm first with Ms. Overbite, hearing her say, "Romero, let's go." She can't get our names straight and definitely is not one of the positive things in my life. She must be tolerated, however, as she's part of our goal of getting driver's licenses.
Forty-five minutes later, feeling good that my driving lesson was over, I ran up both pairs of steps to Chubby's condo and let myself in. Tris was talking on her cell phone laughing with someone, probably a guy. She waved at me and blew me a kiss, pointing to Chubby's room. He was surfing on the computer, and I said to him, "Oh damn! I was hoping to catch you jerking off."
Chubby goes, "Huh? What?" I say, "Oh nothing, you still want to do the run?" He did, so I went down to put on running shorts and we walked to the same running trail we used to run five or six times a week, but that was before we got our jobs. The jobs had changed so much in our lives. You know how it goes; change just one thing in your life and it's like a domino effect or a chain reaction, many other things in your life must now change too. That's what happened to us.
Running with Chubby is always fun for me. It's not even the running per se, but more just the simple fact that we're doing something together, anything really. That's where the fun comes in, being with him. I'll run next to him sometimes so I can rub arms with him as we go, or I'll run just behind him so I can look at his body as he's running. Watching his ass mostly; his buttocks jumping, one then the other with each stride, and what a hot ass on that boy. I love the way Chubby runs too, he looks so right when he runs. He runs the way a boy should run, not a track star, not a woman, not an adult; a boy. I run like Chubby runs; it's how you hold your head, what you do with your arms and, oh... just a lot of stuff. Running behind him is so cool. Just knowing Chubby is so cool, knowing him all my life, and being best friends every day of that life. So, so, cool!"
I'm five foot-ten-inches tall and Chubby is between five-foot-seven and five-foot-eight inches, but, walking together this morning on our way over to the running trail, Chubby's legs looked long, which is odd considering his short stature. Optical illusion perhaps because these little running shorts
make our thin legs look longer. I know that most guys wouldn't spend two seconds thinking about this, but I'm not most guys: I'm gay. So, we're wearing shorty-shot running shorts, plus we both had on sleeveless T-shirts that only reached down to our belly button, both of the T-shirts are mine. They're sexy. In our skimpy outfits, with our hairless, long, thin, strong-looking legs, I thought we both looked way HOT! And so would another gay guy who saw us, I think.
Speaking of other gay boys, when we got to the beginning of the running trail there were a half dozen people loosening up before starting their run. Two of them were African Americans, who were talking animatedly about something while they did some limbering exercises. I caught one of them
looking Chubby and me over as we approached. When our eyes met, he looked away and said something to his friend. Both those boys were really something to look at. I stopped near them to do a few muscle loosening drills and Chubby stopped next to me. He was telling me how the window washer boys had gotten in trouble at the Mall last night, but I was only half listening.
I was staring, hopefully inauspiciously, at the black boys who were about our age. Both were my height and both had slim, taut bodies. The boy
closest to me had been the one looking at us, and he had the most beautiful light brown skin with distinct African facial features. His hair was brown, not black, and it was longish, pulled back into double ponytails at the back, one on either side of his head. The hairs on the outside of the elastic were only about two inches long, kinky but very soft looking. I can't say I've ever seen a boy wearing two ponytails like that before, but it looked cool on him. His face struck me as being extremely handsome, which I've always felt is unusual for a boy as young as he was. Usually, handsome looks develop after teen years.
The other kid had very black skin tone, but his facial features were totally European with pale green eyes. It is the most striking face I've ever seen on anyone. In addition to the one boy who gawked at Chubby and me as we approached, something else about the two made me think they could be gay. My gaydar was pathetically untested, but I did get some vibes that maybe they were. I couldn't stop staring, neither of them gave another glance our way, so my staring was undetected.
Making-out, kissing and licking with them was my dominant fantasy as I stared, and then, just like that, they glided on their way down the trail, their feet seemingly barely touching the ground they ran so gracefully. I'll bet they're track stars at some High School. They were very hot boys, but soon out of sight. I sighed and Chubby muttered, "Yeah, I agree, it was a bitch, but it turned out alright. You ready to go?" I nodded and off we went.
I understood that my sigh was misinterpreted as me commiserating with whatever Chubby had been talking about, which is fine since I'm sure I'd have agreed with him anyway. With the beautiful black guys gone, I began concentrating on Chubby again, even as we picked up our speed. We ran without talking because we're not in the running shape we used to be in, and we needed all our breath. The pace was slower too, but I enjoyed the view I had right in front of me. Chubby would turn his head every so often to look back and check-up on me as we ran. My heart went pitter-patter when he did that because I love that boy so much.
Running behind him, I had thoughts there for a while only of Chubby, but when we got near the rest-area those thoughts were cut-off and somehow
automatically my thoughts switched over to the Marine, who I hadn't seen in weeks. I thought way back to the early times this summer when I was
impressed by Tom what's-his-name. I thought about how my balls sizzled and buzzed back then when he bossed me around, telling me where and how to stand. That was during the time Carl was dominating me too. And then Carl and Larry dominated me, and then Willie, too.
Back then I was seeing things differently. It's only been three or four months, but I've learned so much about being gay, and about gay sex, and how it's mostly good, but how some gays occasionally take advantage of other gays. It's obvious to me now that I like being submissive in some sexual situations, but only with the right partner, meaning Willie. I found Willie and Willie found me. In many ways, the two of us have grown-up together in our gay relationship. Like me, Willie never had a boyfriend before. Against the odds we fell in love. Thanks to Willie, I learned sexual pleasures, both given and taken, and was therefore prepared to NOT let Robby down in that regard.
The progression of life is fascinating as well as unpredictable. Robby and I have developed serious crushes on each other. Maybe the crushes will, or have already, become love. I keep changing my opinion about that. At the moment I think it is love. We think we're in love. Willie and me, and Robby and me. It sure feels like what I assume love feels like. What else could it be? Willie and Robby say it's love, and they both say they love me, and when I'm with either of them I think I love them, too.
So, lots of sex and lots of love. How bad can that be? But still my dilemma of how to love two at once, and be true to both is like the six-hundred- pound gorilla in the room. How can a person love another person and constantly cheat on him, which is what I'm doing to both Willie and Robby. That can't be a good thing.
Thinking those thoughts, Chubby and I took a break at the two-mile rest stop. No Marine, but another pair of runners were there before us, two girls about our age, who I paid no attention to what-so-ever, but who kept looking over at us and talking low behind their hands. Chubby finally heard the mumbling and looked over at them with his killer smile. One of the girls blushed as they both immediately looked away, giggling annoyingly.
Chub and me are a bit out of shape and needed to hang out in the rest area longer, so thank God the giggling girls left. I was sitting on the same bench I sat on when I deep-throating the Marine months ago. My first deep throating, and what a cock that guy has. When his huge cock went into my throat, I thought my life was over for a second there. Still, taking a guy's cock in your throat is sexy/hot, and right now I need to adjust my junk thinking about it. It was so quiet in the rest area today it was a little spooky.
I looked at Chubby leaning up against a fence, the sun shone through the trees and hit his upturned face. Chubby had his eyes lightly closed and his face looked relaxed and very young. His face doesn't have the classic beautiful features the Dickers brothers have, but he is one cute kid just the same, and I've always loved looking at him. What a uniquely cute face. Looking at Chubby a million different thoughts might pass through my head, memories of something Chubby and I had done together. My heart felt swollen and heavy because I loved him so. I've always wanted to do something really, really special for him or with him, but so far, he's done more for me than I've done for him.
It was a melancholy feeling I had this afternoon resting with Chubby, and I wasn't at all sure why that was so. We haven't been doing enough stuff together lately, that's obvious, but our jobs intrude. He opened his eyes and saw me staring at him, but catching me staring at him wasn't anything new to him, he's used to it. Quietly asking, "You ready, Dylan?" I nodded and grinned at him and he mumbles, "Don't go South on me, bro. I couldn't take that because you mean too much to me."
I abruptly asked, "Go South on you? What's that supposed to mean?" and he said, "Hey! Relax. You just looked more spacey than usual, that's all I'm saying. Fuck, you've been getting very defensive about everything I say lately." I made an incredulous facial expression and then came out with a pretend indignant reply, "And, what the fuck does that mean?" We chuckled at each other as he squeezed my hand, saying, "I love you, bro!" and off we go to finish our run.
He loves me.
Tonight, the Moms were treating us to dinner celebrating their tenth anniversary waitressing at the 'The Dining Car' restaurant. Eddie, their boss gave them the night off, so Chubby and I are ready and waiting for the Moms. They said they'd only be ten minutes, but, from experience, we knew better.
To be continued...
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