DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR
Chapter 12
By Donny Mumford
Oh man, the first class of the semester really dragged on like forever, but that's not unusual for early classes in a semester. Until we get in the swing of things again the classes will seem longer then they actually are. In
a week or two we'll become acclimated to sitting for an hour listening to varying topics that we know we'll need to pass if we want to graduate. That
holds true whether the classes are interesting or not. Maybe we'll even learn something too. All I know for sure is this first class is mercifully over, I knew it would be over eventually, the eternal optimist, that's me. We're walking out of the classroom, Ryan walking next to Robby, and Rex next to me. He asks, "Where are you and Rob from, if you don't mind me asking?" He has one of those pleasant, soothing voices I enjoy listening to. It'd be a good singing voice, um, if he could sing, and what the hell, maybe he can. Adjusting my baseball cap for the tenth time today, I tell him, "We're from Framingham, right here in Massachusetts. It's about an hour drive from Merrimack. How about you?" He says, "Me and Marty, um, do you know Marty?" I go, "Ryan's roommate? Yeah, we met." He says, "We're both from Springfield, Pennsylvania. It's a suburb of Philly. We grew up together from like when we were ten years old or something." I go, "Oh, you've known each other that long. Wow." He shrugs, "Yeah, wow, ha ha. So you've met Marty, huh? I'm guessing you probably think he's a little up tight, a little wrapped too tight perhaps, am I right?" I mutter, "I don't know, um..." Rex goes, "He's been called, heh heh, a social ignoramus. That's my favorite. A teacher in high school laid that one on Marty. We still get a laugh outta that, but Marty's actually okay when you get to know him." I shrug, muttering, "I'm sure he is." Rex chuckles, "No, seriously, he's an alright, dude, ha ha."
The way he say stuff strikes me as funny, so I go, "I fucking believe you already!" Glancing at me again, Rex asks me what my next class is and I tell him. He pulls a little tablet out of his back pocket and checks something on it, then mutters, "Bummer, I didn't take that one, but I probably should
have. Names of courses get me all fucked up. Like last year... I took Physics 1 because I saw the number one and figured it would be easy." He shrugs, "Nah, it wasn't easy. Physics, regardless of the number, is gonna be way too hard to even attempt. It's like the score: Physic 1 and me zero." I grin looking at him, asking, "What'd ya get for a grade?" He looks down at me smirking, "Actually I'm just pulling your chain, Dylan. It wasn't all that hard, I got an eighty-nine for my final grade." Grinning, he holds his thumb and index finger a half inch apart, saying, "I missed an 'A' by that much. Of course the professor hated me, that's why I didn't get the 'A'." The way he said it makes me chuckle again. He's funny with that dry wit of his. He says, "I tried Urban Studies last year too. Oh fuck, stupid me. Yep, I thought it would be about hip hop, wearing your hat brim on the side, and that kinda shit, but no, it's actually about where to put buildings in a city. Fucking game of monopoly, ya know?" I chuckle again, muttering, "You've got an endless supply of offbeat humor, don'cha?" He says, "It's sometimes a way to start a conversation, or to fill an awkward spot when talking with someone who makes you nervous." Glancing at him, I ask, "I make you nervous?" "A little, yeah... heh heh. You're pretty friggin' sexy and it makes me a tad nervous." I look over at him, a little questioning frown on my face, because that was a weird thing to say. He goes, "No, no, I'm seriously not coming on to you. Honest to God I'm not. I know you've got a boyfriend. Hell, I'd be shocked if you didn't have one." Okay, maybe it was a harmless comment, or possibly he was being funny again. I go, "Oh, yeah, I guess," and he says, "Cool boyfriend you got too, Rob I mean. He's Merrimack's team's second baseman, right?" I go, "Yeah, but how do you know all this stuff about us?" He goes, "Ryan of course. I was curious about you, so I asked him. Between you and me, confidentially I think Ryan's got a thing for me, and unfortunately I'm just not feeling it for him."
Well I'm not sure I wanna be in a conversation about Ryan and Rex, so I just go, "Huh, is that right?" He looks away, then mutters, "That was dumb, dumb, dumb of me. I shouldn't have said that because he's your friend. No, he's a good kid from what I can tell, but you must know that, um, some guys do it for you and some don't, right? It's no reflection on him, it's probably my loss." I say, "Yeah, I see what you're saying. No problem." Rex shrugs, "Hell, he emailed me last summer. Well, it was Marty first and then me. That's basically all I know about, Ryan. Um, by the way, it's so nice to be having a gay-oriented discussion about boyfriends and guys in general. I only know a couple of gay guys here and it'll probably stay that way because I've no intentions of joining one of those gay/lesbian, and what ever the fuck else clubs. How 'bout you?" I shake my head, "No, I'm not much of a joiner." Rex mumbles, "Neither is Marty.. a joiner, I mean. He's got a boyfriend back home, but Marty's been known to screw around on his boyfriend from time to time. He's a little too promiscuous if you ask me, which you didn't.. heh heh. I'm a bit of a gossip." Rex should be annoying me, normally someone blathering on about other people would annoy me, but he isn't annoying me because his tone of voice tells me he's mostly joking around and pulling my leg a little. He's entertaining. He's one of those guys who never runs out of something to say and he sneaks in some funny shit along the way. He throws a lot of stuff out there, some of which works and some of which just lay there flat.
Since he says he's a gossip, I go, "Tell me something, Rex, have you and Marty ever, um, experimented together?" He goes, "Oh yeah we did once. It was when we had a science project together in ninth grade. We did lots of experimenting trying to create an explosion with various chemicals, like a volcano, ya know?" Huh, that tells me absolutely nothing about any possible sexual interest between him and Marty. He smirks at me and punches my arm lightly, muttering, "Just pulling your chain again. No, we don't get it on sexually, we're just friends. Do you think your friend, Ryan, might be interested in doing something with Marty? Sexually I mean. Just asking." I go, "Gee, I really wouldn't know, Rex. Is that your full first name, just Rex, or is Rex short for something?" He laughs, "You mean like maybe it should be Tyrannosaurus Rex? Ha ha, no it's just Rex. I was named after my dad's best friend. In Latin Rex means 'king' which might be why it's a popular name for dogs. Ya know, here, Rex, come here boy get your doggie treat. Heh heh. Yep, I'm Rex Mack Louis. Mack, my middle name, is my mother's maiden name." Hmmm, I wonder if he's jerking me around again because Mack is the name of Ryan's ex-boyfriend in Georgia, who treated him like shit. Curious coincidence, or bad joke? Or am I reading too much into this... Rex seems like a pretty good guy. It's just the way he was acting with Ryan the first time I saw them from a distance, that's what got me thinking Rex was something he doesn't appear to be. Plus, Ryan came right out and told me Rex sees himself as a dominant sex partner. Of course he could have been pulling Ryan's leg too, for all I know. If Rex is really a dominant type you couldn't get a clue of that from the conversation we're having. If anything he has a self deprecating quality about him, which most definitely doesn't compute with dominant. He doesn't appear to take himself too seriously either, and maybe he's intelligent too. If he got 'this close' to an 'A' in Physics he'd qualify for 'wicked smart' in my book. Also I've noticed that funny guys, professional comedians and just your average buddy who happens to be funny, tend to be intelligent. And I'm not talking about a lot of hackneyed so-called comedians who say 'fuck this or fuck that' for shock value and pass that off as funny. I mean clever funny stuff, like putting a different slant on everyday stuff in funny ways you've never thought of. They're intelligent.
We walk in silence for a minute with me watching Ryan talking a blue streak to Robby, who nods his head occasionally, but that's about it. Then Robby laughs and squeezes the back of Ryan's neck with Ryan leaning into Robby. What a brown-noser that Ryan is. Rex apparently isn't a fan of silence, well normally neither am I, so he breaks the silence by asking me, "Whaddaya got this afternoon for class, Dylan?"I mumble, "Um, let me check. Oh, it's just the one class, a two hour lecture. I better bring the No-Doz tablets." He checks his little book, exclaiming, "Jeez, I got that class too, way to go, bud! See you there, dude. I gotta peal off here, my next class is in this building over there to my left." We bump fist, and he says, "Hey, nice meeting you! Ya know, I gotta be buddies with you." I grin, "Why's that?" He shrugs, "Dude, I noticed you take notes in class. So, ya know, I'm hoping as your buddy you'll let me copy off your paper for pop quizzes and midterms and shit like that?" I'm chuckling again, saying, "Hell yeah, copy away." He grins patting me on the back and then drifts off to the left. What the hell, he's a nice guy.
I catch up to Robby and Ryan just as Ryan's saying, "No, no, I swear, Rob, I didn't do that on purpose. I tried my best, but I sucked." Ryan glances over at me, "You don't think I fucked up your haircut on purpose do you, Dylan?" He's got tears in his eyes. I frown at him, not knowing how to respond to that exactly, and he says, "Rob thinks I did it on purpose and I swear to God I didn't." Robby says, "I merely asked you if you're sure you didn't make a couple of mistakes on purpose. I asked, I didn't accuse you of it." Ryan's face gets real red, "I would never to that to Dylan, never!" I go, "Hey, guys, calm down. Lets stop talking about it, okay?" I adjust my hat again, turning the brim to the side this time, than add, "My hair will grow back enough in two weeks to make something out of it." Ryan says, "Rob says he's giving you haircuts from now on, Dylan. I always was the one who did that. Let me have another chance" I shrug, "Rob's the boss, Ryan, what can I say? Lets not talk about haircuts, okay. Bad subject," as I again adjust my baseball cap, the brim to the back. I'm wearing the hat I bought a few days ago in the book store. It's the Merrimack baseball team's cap, and yeah, I'm aware it's not necessarily good form wearing a hat inside the class and lecture halls, but other guys do it, so it's not just me. I suppose some professor might have a hair up their ass about that, but I'm not expecting to run into one of them. This hat's not real comfortable somehow, that's the problem, and I've been fidgeting with it all day trying to find the most comfortable way to wear it. I think I'll switch to the posse boys hat from not on. That thing fits comfortably, most comfortable hat I've ever owned. Ah yeah, the posse boys.. I kinda miss them, a little bit anyway. And that fucking hot-shit, Sonny, oh man!
The three of us loiter outside the building our second class of the morning will be in, all of us lighting cigarettes. It's like when you see one guy light up, it's automatic that you do it too. Habit, that's what it is, a habit pure and simple. Speaking of habits, I haven't been doing that Dougie Hamilton one lately, the one where I smell the back of my hand or wrist. I do it now though, thinking, 'Fuck! I shouldn't have thought about it. Now I'll probably get into it all over again'. Ryan takes a drag off his cigarette, saying, "I didn't smoke much all summer. Mack doesn't allow it. If he smelled cigarette smoke on my clothes I got whipped." Robby says, "Please, Ryan, we don't want to hear about it. That shit makes me nauseous." Ryan mutters, "Sorry," and we discuss the class we just had. I claim it was boring and Ryan goes, "Oh really? I thought it was kinda interesting," and Robby's like, "Yeah, I thought so too. We need to do the first chapter's work page before Monday's class, so do you guys wanna do it together?" Ryan jumps in, "Oh, definitely." I shrug, "Yeah, okay, but it'll have to be tonight. You know, Rob, we haven't talked at all about tomorrow. It's kind of an important day." He says, "Yeah, it is. I'm so nervous inside, Dylan, it's like I'm almost afraid to see Dodger after he's been away the better part of three months. Do you think he's changed much?" "Yeah, Rob, he'd almost have to be changed a little at least, but he'll still basically be the same old awesome Dodger underneath. I wonder about Connor changing more than Dodger." Ryan asks, "What are you guys talking about? What's happening tomorrow, Rob?" Robby tells him, "My brother, Dodger, is coming home after basic training, plus they had some class about leadership training too. They're in the Army. I told you about that in an email." Ryan goes, "Oh, right." Robby says, "Well, now they have a two week leave, or vacation, or whatever they call it. So we're having a little welcome home cookout for them, weather permitting, as they say." I go, "It seems like you guys aren't making too big a deal out of it, Rob. You and your rents I mean." Robby looks at me with a surprised expression on his cute face, "Dylan, you know what a big deal Dodger is for me personally. It's just that my parents are saving the big welcome home party for when he comes home for good. And Dad still has lingering affects from the car accident to consider. He only went back to work, I think it was yesterday or Wednesday. I've been busy here getting settled at college so my mom and dad are making the arrangements. Just a cookout, like I said, and some draft beer. Keeping it simple this time. Plus they'll probably be one of those square cakes with 'WELCOME HOME' or something written in icing." I ask, "Your dad's okay with the keg of beer?" Robby says, "It's a quarter keg, and Dad says that if Dodger can drink light beer at the PX he can have some at home." I go, "Makes sense. Who's coming to the cookout?" Robby says, "A few relatives, the next door neighbors, Vinnie of course, you, Chubby, Cory, me, and that's about it. The people who love Connor and Dodger. He checks his wristwatch, saying, "As a matter of fact those two should be arriving home sometime this afternoon, in about two hours actually. Dad and mom are meeting them at the airport."
Thinking about that for a second, I'm thinking it's a little curious, so I ask, "If Dodger's gonna be home this afternoon how come we're not going there today after classes?" Robby says, "Because Dodger, Vinnie, and Connor are going out tonight with my brother's rowdy friends from high school. Those
particular friends are not invited Saturday night because my parents can't
stand them. It's the dropout, tattooed and pierced crowd. The ones who are
always getting in trouble at school. That's if they haven't been thrown out by now. Dodger's always hung with trouble makers because he likes the crazy wild guys. Ha, except for Vinnie, who's about as wild as a puddle." I ask, "Um, no offense, but how come I'm just hearing about this now? And does Chubby know? He has to work tonight, ya know, from six until two." Robby grimaces, "I know, I should have told you guys, I'm sorry, but I only found out about the final plans Wednesday and we've had stuff going on here every minute. Um, plus I just assumed you'd be with me whatever the plans turned out to be. You would, wouldn't you?" I say, "Of course," thinking it's just what the head of the household should assume... that I'd be by his side whatever he decided, short notice not withstanding. Or, I could think maybe I'm being taken for granted a little. Nah, I like my first impression better. I glance over at Ryan, who's looking down with an unhappy expression on his face. Robby notices, and says, "Ryan, I'm sorry, but my folks want to keep the affair, um, intimate with only family and closest friends." Ryan mutters, "That's okay, I understand. I don't even know your brother, or the other guy." I go, "You worked with his brother for a day and a half, or something like that. And, Rob, how's Connor gonna get along with Dodger's wild friends?" Robby says, "The same way Vinnie does, I assume. Dodger runs the show with those losers, they wouldn't dare give Vinnie or Connor any trouble and then have to suffer the wrath of their leader. Plus Dodger's become very protective of Connor." I mutter, "Yeah, he told me in his emails," which is just what I was hoping for when they went in together, that Dodger would have Connor's back. Guess I won't be able to introduce Seth to Connor Saturday night. I thought it was going to be a much bigger affair where I could invite Seth too. Still, I'll introduce Cory to Seth before the party sometime. I know Cory and Connor have been emailing back and forth so it'll be interesting to see how they interact in person. At the going away party Cory
seemed quite impressed with Connor, and Connor in Cory. They have unfortunate things in common, obviously.
Robby exhales some smoke, saying to me, "We'll take Cory down with us in the pickup, Dylan. Can he stay Saturday night with you?" I go, "Sure, of course. Where's Connor gonna stay?" Robby shakes his head, "That poor kid, maybe he'll stay with us." I say, "Or with me and Cory if... you know," meaning Robby wants to spend the night with Dodger. We drop our cigarette butts and step on them, then go into the building walking down to the classroom. Robby taps my shoulder, saying, "You call Cory and explain what's happening. Tell him we'll text him when we're just about ready to leave some time Saturday morning," I mumble, "Yes, boss," and we walk into the classroom and sit in our Robby-assigned seats in the forth row. We know by now Robby wants to sit between Ryan and me. He likes being the boss, or big brother, or whatever, and I like him being in that role too, but not necessarily within a formal threesome. The fact remains, even if we both stop having sex with Ryan there's going to be some sort of threesome. We've got mostly the same classes and we'll probably be lifting weights and studying together. We'll just be three friends, now that I think about it... not a threesome at all because that infers sex together. At least that's what it infers to us. So, even three buddies needs a leader type and for us Robby's it. Almost every group has a leader even if it's not in a formal sense. There's always someone in a group who the others end up looking to for what they're going to do next and so forth. And hopefully Marty and Ryan turn out to be very compatible because I'm guessing a Rex and Ryan thing isn't gonna happen. At least that's what I gathered from what Rex told me. Too bad those three couldn't have formed their own sexy threesome.
Class has started and I'm daydreaming about seeing Dodger and Connor again. Damn, I've missed them both. If Connor hadn't gone into the Army he could have worked on Robby's crew this summer. It would have been awesome having Connor to ogle during the day. He's very good looking, uber cute, and I love that kid. Yeah, but where would he have lived? His druggie mother is in some halfway house, probably not thinking about Connor one bit. I'll bet that's the case with her, just caring about her selfish pathetic self. Fuck that, I don't wanna think about her. Robby taps my notebook, I look over and he mouths the word, 'Notes', then gives me a sweet grin. Ryan's looking at Robby and me as we grin at each other. His eyes seem to cloud over a little, and there's a slight frown on his face. Poor Ryan got his brains scrambled in Georgia by those perverts he hung out with. Oh man, I guess I can't just abandon him by having Robby dump the threesome so soon. It'd be like pulling the rug out from under Ryan. What the fuck, it's only the first week!
I can give it a while longer and see if things change one way or another. My main concern is Robby and me. I'm looking out for us first and foremost. Then I try concentrating on the professor and manage to take a page of notes during what's left of the one hour class. At the bell we find out we need to write a paper on the material covered in this first class. That's a new one. The professor, a woman, who had a substitute for yesterday's meet and greet class, says she wants to get a feel for how well she's getting her message across. Okay, so Robby was right about me taking notes. I now have something to go on when writing the two hundred word paper. That's not many
words so this will be a breeze and an easy way to get a good grade right from the get go. If I hadn't taken notes I'd be screwed.
Outside we're thinking we should have lunch before the afternoon lecture. Robby tells me, "Text Chubby and see if he wants to join us." Wow, he's being bossy alright, I love this shit. Taking out my cell phone I see that Chubby texted me during class. He and John Beverly are going to Five Guys and he wants to know if we wanna go. I ask Robby and Ryan and we decide it's too much of a hassle, plus we were just there. I text that info to Chubby as our threesome wanders around campus trying to form a consensus on where to eat. Along the way I run into Dougie Hamilton and his roommate, Jamie. I tell Robby I'm gonna stop and talk to these guys for a minute. He and Ryan have a cigarette conversing about something with Ryan doing most of the talking again. He sure has a lot to say when I'm not with them. He's quiet as a mouse when I'm there, so what's up with that? Dougie yells over, "There's my
awesome mentor." We're both sauntering towards one another and when we meet we bump fists and then Dougie initiates a hug, and it comes back to me how good this kid smells. He mumbles, "Hi, Dylan, you're a hell of a mentor, dude. Ya got me out of that fucking roommate mess. The one I was in with that animal, and now Jamie and I are awesome together," Jamie flicks a finger under one of the long strands of Dougie's hair that frames his face, saying, "Dougie says you're gonna give him a college appropriate haircut, Dylan, and I say the sooner the better. It's like I'm hanging out with Dracula junior." They chuckle with Dougie grabbing a handful of Jamie's light brown hair, saying, "You got a lot fucking nerve talking about my hair, mop top." Hmmm, they seem mighty comfortable touching each other. Cute kids actually. Testing my theory that Dougie's gay, I say, "That's mighty gay behavior boys. You'll give the wrong impressions to your fellow freshman." They exchange grins, with Jamie saying, "We wouldn't wanna do that, would we Dougie?" Dougie hugs around the back of Jamie's neck, muttering, "God forbid." They laugh and Dougie lets go of Jamie, asking me, "How 'bout it, mentor? When you gonna keep your promise about the haircut?" I shrug, "I don't know. I gotta go home this weekend, but maybe later this afternoon. Let me see what my homies are doing first though. Dougie, you've got my cell number, call me around four, alright?" He says, "Done, dude," and Jamie gooses him. They laugh, then say, "Talk to you later, Dylan," and wander on their way to wherever it is they're going. I'm like, hmmmm. Then I think, 'No, Dylan, you're cutting down on side-sex, not developing more of it, ya dumb shit!'
When I walk over to him, Robby asks me, "How about we just do McDonalds and be done with it, Dylan?" I go, "Sure, let's go," and that's what we do. Nothing noteworthy happens at McDonalds except Ryan does some more Rob brown-nosing, but it's like it doesn't even bother me now. Brown-nose away, Ryan. Actually I feel bad for Ryan even though he brought his trouble in Georgia on himself. So he made a mistake, I've made them too, and I still have feelings for him although they're more friendship feelings than the old squirmy sexual ones. Funny how things change so fast, but the fact is his act this week has been very inconsistent. It's been part steamy hot and sexually dominant, then he goes to the other extreme of acting wimpy and whiny at times. In between he's shown signs of meanness that's undoubtedly a carry over from his Georgia experiences, he's also been sneaky and manipulative at other times. And I'm referring to that shit when I had to ask 'please' for sex. From insisting I say please, he reverted to the opposite attitude by nagging me for sex. Jeez, it's like he's all over the place. And he's been all over the place for five days, and it now looks like he's settled back into sucking up to Robby like he did the second half of the summer with his emails. I don't know what he wants, and I don't think he knows either. Even with all his inappropriate and uneven behavior I'm not going to say, 'Fuck it, hit the road toad' to him. I'm not like that. I can't be that hard and heartless, instead I'll try being a friend to him. I'm pretty sure the fire's gone out for both of us as far as sex goes, and that's a good thing too. Especially considering my quest to cut down on side sex. I'll never understand how it happens that the fire of desire goes out just like that, but look at the casualty rate of marriages in the US. I did a paper on that subject last year and if I remember correctly America's divorce rate overall is close to 50%. That's a lot of fires going out, so it ain't just me and it ain't just a gay thing. Something like 41% divorce rate for first marriages, 60% for second marriages, and 73% for third marriages. There's some three time losers in that group, for sure. The divorce rate is higher for childless marriages and a little lower for couples with children. Weird that I remember that. I should spring this on Chubby as a factoid.
We arrive on time for the last class of this one-day week, and there's Rex standing by himself again. He comes over and squeezes my shoulder, asking, "Do you guys mind if I leech onto you again? I hate sitting alone and I'm too shy to just start talking to strangers." I notice he didn't even mention girls, and there's no way he's shy. We all say, "No, dude, we don't mind, sit with us anytime." We're loitering outside until the last minute with Rex facing me, asking, "I'm curious, Dylan. How do you keep a relationship going as long as you and Rob have been doing it?" I shrug, "It's no one thing, Rex. Jesus, I never thought about it actually. I don't know what to tell ya." He asks, "Do you always wear a hat?" I go, "Clever segue, heh heh. Um, no I don't wear a hat all the time, just when I'm hiding a really bad haircut like I have now." He looks concerned, "Where'd ya go for the haircut, was it Supercuts?" I say, "No, it was Ryan, who's standing right here, he's the barber of record," and Ryan says to me, "I thought you didn't want us talking about that, Dylan. You just said that a little while ago." I go, "Chill out, Ryan! Rex asked me why I wear this hat all the time, that's all." Ryan looks down, muttering, "You don't have to throw me under the bus." I feel like saying, fuck you, who else should I throw under the bus, you fucked it up! But I don't, and curiously Rex doesn't ask to see the bad haircut. He probably knows it'd be a little embarrassing for me. Huh, a considerate college student? Stop the fucking presses, we got a scoop!
We go inside and I mentally prepare myself for probably fifty minutes of lecture before we get a break, and then the last fifty minutes of the two hour class. I'm going to try to get interested in this subject. It's a marketing course so lets see if I can get into it. I already know the professor is a fairly young guy with a cool haircut, much like the one that Rex has, who's sitting next to me, by the way. It's the intentionally messy look, spiked a little, but fairly short. Professor Burns is a lively guy seemingly really into marketing and teaching. Gasp, he actually appears to love what he's doing and it's contagious because I notice students paying close attention to what he's saying. So far he's dropped a couple of 'F' bombs too, and
as casually as you please. College students, both guys and girls, use the 'F' bomb in normal conversation like they're saying, 'heck'. I'd never say the 'F' bomb when my mom or Tris are present, but some kids use it everyday when talking with their parents, as do the parents. This is alien to my family. Speaking of family, mom has text me once or twice a day every day. Basically, without actually saying it, she's looking for me to convince her I'm doing good and enjoying myself without any problems. That, plus assuring me she loves me like life itself. It's corny maybe, but I like reading her texts knowing she's thinking about me, and I always reassure her I'm doing great and that I love her too. In my whole life I've never caught a hint of mom being unhappy or stressed, although she has to be once in awhile with money being always tight. From when I was a toddler, just able to understand a little about life, this has been my family... mom, Tris, Chubby, and me. A family with two moms and two sons. Everybody should have a family they can depend on for love and support, which is something Connor's never had, and Cory didn't have until recently when his mom straightened her life out. Now at least Cory's in a better place, but what's to be done about Connor? I'm gonna talk to my brother and the moms about Connor's problem when I'm home this weekend.
Surprise, surprise, this marketing class continues to be interesting, and thank goodness for that. It's interesting mostly because of Professor Burns. He brings it to life like good teachers who care about their subject and their students are able to do. The first fifty minutes goes by quickly and I have another page of notes by the break. I give a thought to showing my notes to Robby, but that's a brown-noser move I'll leave for Ryan. Outside we're smoking as Rex's entertains us with his funny take on college life. He's talking about final papers he had due for last semester of freshman year. "Ya know, I'm sure it's happened to you guys at least once. You've got a ten-page paper due tomorrow morning and you haven't started it yet. Well, from experience you know if you hope to endure the all-nighter you'll need to convince yourself of a few things first or you'll never even get started on this taunting task. And never mind why you left it to the last day, you did leave it, so deal with it, right? You gotta be thinking: Ten pages, ten hours. Should be no big deal. You probably will debate the possibility of a good night's sleep, and then get up refreshed early tomorrow morning to do it, but eighty-six that fucked-up plan. We all know it don't work that way. Then you try rationalizing that it's only 35% of your grade, but that's loser thinking 'cause you fucking need that 35% badly. So you try convincing yourself that you work better at night anyway, but if that's true why haven't you started the paper yet? It's night, right? Okay, maybe you don't work better at night after all. So then you tell yourself you'll take a quick power nap and get right on the paper after that. Or you figure that technically it's a eight to ten page paper that's due, so why not do seven and a half pages to save time. It's almost like you started the paper already by eliminating two and a half pages. The problem is though you actually still haven't started the fucking thing yet. Then your worst idea of the night: you figure to put in a good two hours, head over to the frat party for a break, then come back and knock out the last eight pages by dawn. This isn't gonna fucking work either. I know, I've tried it. And don't get side tracked trying to differentiate between a bibliography and a 'works cited' paper because it's a trap to prevent you from starting. Finally, after an hour of trying to get yourself in the right frame of mind to start the paper, you make a firm promise to yourself that next time you're gonna write a page a day for ten days before the paper's due, and then you head over to the frat party and fuck it!" We're all laughing because there's a grain of truth to everything Rex said, but he has this comic way of saying stuff that makes it so funny. Oh man, we have a good laugh and when guys are laughing together
it's contagious.
After break, the second session goes even better than the first and as a bonus the professor lets us out ten minutes early, explaining, "Ladies and gentleman, we've covered the material I wanted to cover and because none of you slowed us up with inane suck-up questions we'll get out early. See you next Friday, guys. No formal assignment, but please review this stuff I've covered today so we can move on from here." Okay, that's it, the first grueling week of classes are over, whew! On the way out Rex puts his arm across my shoulders, asking, "What's happening for you guys this weekend, stud?" I go, "Rob and me are going home for the weekend. His brother's on leave from the Army and we want to greet the hot-shit and welcome him home." He goes, "That's cool, I'm probably gonna tie a load on at Tracy's. You a drinker or a lover?" I go, "I guess both, heh heh, a rounded individual, ya know?" He gives my shoulders a hug, mumbling, "I'll bet you are, um, rounded. If not totally rounded at least you get around, which is almost the same thing. See ya next week, dude." What'd he mean by that 'get around' comment? He bumps fist with everyone and heads off in the opposite direction of us three. We're headed for the pickup in the parking lot. Ryan asks, "Are we gonna lift weights now, Rob?" Robby says, "Yep, that's on our schedule... weights lifting." On the short drive to the apartment Ryan's really friendly and kinda excited. "Pretty good first week, huh, guys?" I don't know how he figures he had a good first week, but I say, "Well, in actuality this will probably qualify as the easiest week we're gonna have until the Thanksgiving break." Robby says, "Yeah, probably, but lets talk about our lifting program. Ryan, are we suppose to increase weights or reps?" Ryan talks about that, sounding a little bit more confident now that we're on this subject. He basically is saying, in an unnecessarily long round about way, that 'no' we don't increase anything for awhile. Just get real comfortable with our beginning weight and reps.
Robby parks in a spot ten feet from the back door of our apartment building. I muttering under my breath, "Sure, right next to the fucking door" keeping my bad luck at finding good parking spots to myself. Robby goes, "What was that, Dylan?" and I say, "Awesome parking spot, Rob," and he gives me a cute grin. In the apartment Robby gets all the weights out from under the bed. I gotta hand it to Ryan, he said we'd take turns getting the weights out and putting them back each time we lift. To back that up, in a matter of fact manner, he said, "Take off your shirts, guys, and then it's your turn, Rob, please get the weights out while Dylan and I check the chart and log in today's date. He gets the chart out of Robby's and my desk and, back in the living room, he pats the sofa next to where he's sitting, saying, "Over here, Dylan. Sit down next to me and I'll go over what I want you to do today." When Ryan acts confident and bossy like this I still get a little of that squirmy feeling for him. I sit next to him, he pats my leg, and then goes over the weight I lifted the first time, saying, "If you can't get to ten reps with the fifty pounds today, it's okay, but I want your best effort. Um, honestly speaking I'm surprised you can't do it yet, but try real hard today, okay?" I nod my head and he pats my cheek, mumbling, "Good, boy." What the fuck is this? Then Ryan refreshes my memory about the proper lifting technique, asking, "Do you understand how I want you to do it?" I go, "Yeah, I got it." He pats my back, "Good, now get us three bottles of water and bring the water and this chart out to the balcony along with a pen." Ryan goes out to the balcony and goes about setting the long bar for me with fifty pounds on it. He told me I'd always be lifting first because I'm so far behind him and Rob. I really don't think it was necessary for him to say it like that, but my response was, "Yes, Ryan." I'm mad at myself for being submissive like that to him, but I don't always have total control when someone is confidently 'taking charge'. It's my burden you could say, except that so-called burden has brought me so much sexual pleasure over the past three-plus years I'm happy to have it.
I take the bottles of waters and chart to the balcony and Ryan sends be back in to get the pen, chastising me with, "Pay attention to what you're doing, Dylan. It's important to pay attention when lifting so you don't hurt yourself or anyone else. So get in the habit of paying attention before you lift too, okay?" I nod my head and he smacks me on the ass, mumbling, "Go get the pen for me." I get the pen for him and he gives me this 'look'. I'm not sure what it's suppose to mean. First we loosen up with exercises to get some blood flowing in our bodies. Then the lifting goes just like it did three days ago except I have a hard time matching last weeks repetitions. I thought it'd be easier each time, not harder. Ryan finally loses his patience with me, and says, "The hell with it, Dylan. I don't know if you're trying or not, but I'll drop your weight down to forty pounds if you can't do fifty. You'll either try harder or I'll keep dropping the weight down for you all the way to the goddamn bar without weights, if I have to. See if you can lift that ten times. Jesus, man!." Robby's head snaps up, and he snarls, "Don't fucking talk to Dylan like that, Ryan! Who the fuck do you think you are? What the matter with you? We're friends lifting together, not whatever you think this is." Now Ryan whines, "I'm just trying to encourage him to do his best." Robby says, "You don't decide if he's doing his best, he does. Dylan decides if he's doing his best, I decide if I'm doing my best, and you decide for yourself how you're doing. What the fuck? Do you think you're our coach? I asked you to lead us through this because you did it all summer, but if you're going to act like a jackass forget about it. We'll figure out what to do ourselves." Ryan sits down on the ledge of the sliding glass door with his head in his hands. Robby frowns at me and I shrug. Then Ryan's shoulders begin to shake and I hear a sob. I mouth, "He's crying," to Robby, pointing at Ryan. Robby rolls his eyes and then sits next to Ryan and puts his arm across Ryan's bare shoulders, saying, "Come on, Ryan, it's okay. You were trying to get Dylan to do his best, okay, that's fine. I'm sorry I yelled at you." Ya know how it is when someone's upset and crying a little, then you sympathize with them and they cry harder? That's what Ryan does. It's like Robby endorsed Ryan's crying and now he's going at it harder, but still quietly. I'm not without compassion, I'm not as hard an ass as what I just said may have sounded like. Hell, half the time I see someone cry, I cry with them. I'm a softy like that. I sit on the other side of Ryan with my arm around his slightly sweaty bare back for a little hug, saying, "Shhhh, don't cry, Ryan. We're just friends with a tiny disagreement. It's alright, really." Now I really do feel bad for him, the poor fucked-up
kid.
Ryan gets himself under control in about a minute, although it seemed longer then that. His crying was quiet, like I said, which is the most heartbreaking type of crying as far as I'm concerned. When I was blubbering to Robby last night I was quiet about it too. It's hysterical crying that gets on my nerves. I have trouble feeling sympathetic for hysteria, which I interpret as mostly drama, like, 'Look at me, see how upset I am... boo hoo'. Quiet sobbing is more heart wrenching because the crier doesn't want to draw attention to him or her self and they feel self conscious about crying in the first place. Ryan murmurs, "I'm so sorry I spoke to you like that, Dylan." He looks up at me, "That wasn't me, I'm not like that, really I'm not. I guess I'm having a hard time acting human again after last summer when we were all mean pricks to each other, yeah... except I was the only one who got punished for it. And I'm sorry for blaming everything on last summer too, and for bringing it up every two minutes. I've got to take responsibility for myself again." He grabs my arm, asking, "Can you accept my sincere apology, Dylan, please?" I quietly say, "Sure, apology accepted." He nods his head, then rubs under his nose with the back of his hand and wipes the tears f rom his face with the palms of both hands, muttering, "I'm such a jerk." Ryan looks at Robby, who looks shocked at Ryan's meltdown, as Ryan pathetically mumbles, "I'm sorry, Rob, I promise it'll never happen again." Robby goes, "Good, Ryan, um, it better not. I'm really sorry for your troubles though, and Dylan and I are happy to be your friends. Friends have disagreements, like Dylan said, so lets put this behind us and move on. We'll take a cigarette break and get everything back to being, um, somewhat real. Okay?"
We stand up and I give Ryan a pat on the back remembering all the good times we had before he moved. Some very sexy times together, but that was then and now it's, well, now. We light cigarettes and I notice Ryan's hands are real shaky, so he was very upset obviously, but maybe it's a wake up call for him. And how about my head-of-the-household, Robby, jumping down Ryan's throat to stick up for me. Ha! That's my man, not that I wasn't about to go off on Ryan myself. Robby beat me to it, and I'm kinda glad he did because I wasn't going to be that nice about it. Enough is enough, ya know. Hey, maybe I should have that tattooed on my arm or something. My motto, 'Enough is enough'. Catchy but not very specific... yeah, a tad arbitrary some might say. Okay, fuck the tattoo idea. The three of us talk a little about weight lifting in general which Robby and Ryan know much more about than me. Then, after the cigarette, we finish up exactly the way we did everything three days ago. Ryan being mister helpful with everything as we finish our lifting. Yep, nary a discouraging word from Ryan, but I can't help feeling sorry for him because he looks sorta crushed. Jeez, it's always something. When we're done we're sweaty and tired, but it's an invigorating feeling too. I feel like my muscles are tingling or something. Ryan says it's the blood that rushes to the muscles to help with the load. The weights get put away and the chart gets filled in, then Robby says, "It's almost four o'clock. I've got this baseball team meeting, the official first one of the year, at five. It'll be over at six thirty or so. Can you guys hold off until say seven o'clock for dinner? I know Chubby will be at work by six so..." Ryan says, "Marty, me, and Rex are gonna see a movie tonight. Those guys are movie buffs. We're grabbing an early dinner in the dining hall. I guess I'll see you guys Monday first class. Um, I hope your brother has a nice vacation, Rob. I'll miss you guys." Robby and I give Ryan a hug, muttering, "No hard feeling, Ryan." Then Robby says, "Come on, Ryan I'll give you a ride to the dorm." Ryan's putting his shirt on without cleaning up first. He shakes his head, "No thanks, Rob, I'll walk. I feel like walking and thinking some things over. Thanks anyway." Robby and I exchange looks and subtle shrugs, then Robby mutters, "Okay, if you're sure, Ryan." Ryan gives us a grin, "Yeah, thanks, guys. See you, Monday." I give him another hug and then Robby does too, and there are tears in Ryan's eyes again as he says, "See ya," and he walks out the door.
Robby and I look at each other, then go out to the balcony to look over the railing and watch Ryan go by, but he doesn't come this way even though it's the most direct route back to the campus. Robby goes, "Huh, what do you make of that?" I mumble, "Beats me, he's obviously not having an easy time going from whatever shit he was into last summer to this rather normal college life." Robby plops down in a outdoor chair, one of the ones without arms, saying, "Yeah, but how normal of a college life is it, if you think about it. I mean considering the gay sex complications we're running into along with getting acclimated to going to classes again and all that. It'd probably be the same if it were having straight sex complications with girls too. Most college students, let's face it, don't have nearly as much sex complications as you, I, and Ryan have with our side sex and whatnot." I take a deep breath, blowing out my cheeks as I exhale. Then shrug, unable to think of something worthwhile to say to that. My cell phone breaks the silence and it's Dougie. Yeah, I forgot about him. I answer and he wants to know about the haircut of course. I look at Robby, who's looking out at the trees all around us. Hmmm, he'll be gone to his meeting before five. I hesitate, not sure if I should ask Robby if it's alright to have Dougie over, and then get real and tell myself it'd pissed Robby off if I ask a dumb question like that. I tell Dougie to come over at five and give him directions. Robby looks over, "Another haircut?" I go, "Yeah, Robby, for the kid I'm kinda mentoring,"and I remind him how I met Dougie at Stop & Shop and the coincidence that Dougie will be a freshman at Merrimack this year. I tell him about me helping the kid get his roommate situation squared away." Robby chuckles, "I'm not sure how much of a coincidence it is that Dougie's going to Merrimack. He probably checked around and found out what college you're going to, and immediately applied for admission." I shake my head, mumbling, "That's just so wrong, Robby." He laughs, then says, "Come over here, Dylan, and sit on my lap. I need to give you some lovin'."
I skip over, saying, "Oh boy, you have some time for me at last." he laughs, "You've been so ignored by me, Dylan, I should be ashamed of myself." I drop down on his lap facing him, a leg on each side of his legs, and mutter, "We're all sweaty." He goes, "That never stopped us before," and his arms go around the back of my neck. He pulls my head over for a sweet kiss on the lips, and then he says, "Wasn't last night the best, baby?" I go, "Yeah, for sure, but you better hug me again right now because I'm feeling a little insecure." He laughs and hugs my chest against his with our sweat combining and feeling sexy. Having grungy sex occasionally can be really hot, not that either of us are grungy all that often. He rubs his hand up the back of my head knocking my hat off. Robby, mutters, "It's okay, I can look at it. Any haircut on you looks good to me." I mumble, "Why'd you suggest I wear a hat then?" and he goes, "Oh, I didn't want you scaring other students, but I'm used to it so it's not so shocking to me." I ask, "Are we gonna make-out or are you intent on hurting my feelings?" He says, "I was referring to all the, um, unusual haircuts you had all summer, that's all. That's what I'm used to." Gee, to be fair about it between Willie and Sonny I have had some extreme haircuts this summer, that's true, but they all were professionally cut or looked like they were. Robby and I have our arms around the back of each other's neck, my forehead against his, as I say, "The thing is, I don't have the advantage you do of having one of the great barbers of the world giving me perfect haircuts." He kisses my lips quickly, saying, "I never thought of it that way, but you're right. Lucky ain't I? I got one of the best boyfriends in the world too, maybe the best in all the world." With my lips skimming over his and our noses rubbing together, I mutter, "You got it all going for ya, don'cha?"
We kiss deeply then. I lay against him tightening my hold around his neck, rubbing my nose against his some more, thinking that I love the way he smells, feels, and tastes. Robby and I can make-out for long periods of time, just one more thing we have in common. We both love, love, love making out, especially with each other... ha ha. Everything is familiar and new with Robby at the same time. We do a lot of the same kissing, sucking, and licking of each other we always do, but this is a new time to do it with different circumstances and our making out always seems fresh and exciting to me. As usual it eventually results in aching boners in our pants with only a confined space to grow in. We're sweatier now than we were when we finished lifting weights, but I love feeling the perspiration from his face rub against mine as I quietly murmur, "Oh, Robby, I love you so much," and then his tongue is in my mouth again. For maybe the past couple of months I've sensed Robby being in charge of our love making more and more, and while I don't think it's a conscious thing on his part, it's there unmistakably just the same and nothing could make me happier. If I must compare it to heterosexual love-making it's like he's the man seducing his female sex partner. I hate making that comparison though because obviously I'm not female, and also because it's the comparison Ray always made. It annoyed me when he claimed he had the man's role and I had the women's role. I see what he means of course, but it's not something one says to his male lover. Robby could say it and I'd know what he meant, except he'd never say that to me in a million years. Not my Robby.
Our faces move together and against one another with perspiration and saliva covering the lower half of both. It's just so incredibly sexy to me, so after awhile I can't help myself and my hips hump my crotch against Robby's and out shoots a spurt of cum in my pants as I hold my breath to keep from squealing and attracting more attention to my little premature ejaculation.
It'll soon appear as a wet spot on the lap of my jeans. I'm breathing deeply, my forehead on his shoulder now as awesome sexy sensations buzz around my groin. He murmurs, "You okay, baby?" and I go, "Yeah, goofy me, I just shot a little load in my pants. You kinda getting me hot as the, let's see, I've already used the sun for a comparison, so how about as hot as an exploding giant sun?" Robby says, "That'd be hot alright, but I believe red giants collapse in on themselves. They're not really a super nova." I mutter, "Yes, Carl," referring to the guy who's not with us any longer, but you see on Nova once in awhile, the astronomer, Carl Sagan. Robby kisses my cheek, then says, "Let's step inside, Dylan, for a little intimate activity that's all of a sudden popped into my mind." I get off his lap, he takes my hand and leads me inside. Sliding the door to the balcony closed, he wraps me in his arms and our bare, sweaty chests rub together and oh my God it's so sexy! Robby humps his crotch against mine, asking, "When's your brother due to pop in on us?" I rub the sides of my face against his, murmuring, "Am I my brother's keeper?" Robby goes, "Ooh, a biblical reference, eh? I'll take that to mean, you don't know so we'd best adjourn to our bedroom where we can lock doors and be safe from prying eyes." He takes my hand again and down the short hall we go with me using my free hand to try pushing my boner to the side because the head is right up against the waistband of my jeans and it's uncomfortable.
In the bedroom Robby lets go of my hand, grins at me mischievously, then closes the door and locks it. Turning around, he mutters, "Here we go," and pulls my jeans down past my slim hips. My boner pokes out the slit at the front of my boxer shorts getting wet in the process from the mini climax I had earlier. At the front of my underwear there's a two inch wet cum spot glistening in the overhead light. Robby glances at my boner as it sticks out my shorts, and says, "I think I've seen that before." I like when he's in a playful mood, especially when he's also horny which apparently he is this afternoon. I say, "Yes, I believe you have seen little Dylan before." He goes, "That's his name, huh? Nice looking little guy," and he drops to his knees and takes it in his mouth. His nose slides in the cum spot which makes him chuckle quietly. For Robby, acting like this would be unthinkable a year ago, but as he's gained confidence in us as true-love lovers, or more accurately gained more confidence that I am a true-love lover of his, he's been much more likely to initiate extemporaneous sex. Recreational sex like this, as opposed to our favorite kind of sex that we call lover's sex, can be very hot. As I run my fingers through his hair and grunt quietly Robby does a nice job of sucking my cock. When I start moving my feet, moaning more noticeably, and pulling his hair, Robby backs his mouth off my hard trembling boner. We both stare at a string of my precum shimmering in the air between his lips and the head of my boner, then watch it breaks away from his lips to drift lazily down and smear across my boxer shorts. Robby smirks, then pulls down my cum stained boxers and I step out of them.
He rubs and then hugs my naked body, his hands ending on both of my firm butt cheeks, squeezing them. As we kiss we grind our crotches together and then do little humps, dry docking each other. He lifts his arms to hold my head between his hands, the palms on my ears with the fingers spread around the back of my head holding it still as he kisses and licks all over my face. He has big delicate hands with long fingers that are an asset in his athletic endeavors. His fingers almost meet at the back of my head as I moan quietly in deep sexual arousal feeling a dominance of some kind emanating from Robby. My arms hug around his bare back as I stay in place, my eyes closed while he covers my face with kisses and his sexy saliva. His lips like sugar and his candy kisses have me tightening my groin muscles getting ready for another orgasm. The side of Robby's face slides against the side of my slippery saliva cheek, and he whispers in my ear, "I love you. You're the only boy I ever yearned for and my yearning became such a deep burning desire for you it scared me to death. I need to pinch myself every now and then to be sure I'm not dreaming. I'm not dreaming though, this is real now and our lives together have started in earnest." Another kiss on my lips, then Robby murmurs, "Please turn around, Dylan, I need to have sex with you. I need it and want it like nothing else on earth." I stand here in a beautiful trance amazed and thrilled that it's been induced in me by my true love. He pulls his pants down now, and then strokes his wet boner. His boxer shorts are as wet in the front as my shorts that laying there on the floor.
Staring at his fat hard cock for a second, I then turn around in slow motion and tremble at the thought of feeling that cock of his inside me. His hands rub down from my shoulders continuing down my arms to hold my hand for a
second before he uses his hand to guides the hard head of his boner to the
lips of my ass. Barely putting pressure there, just enough so his cock won't move from my anus, Robby's arms come around me, crossing on my belly. His hot moist breath dampens the back of my neck as he gasps, then tightens his arms around me and slowly, ever so slowly pulls me back against him with his fat boner ever so slowly making it's way up my ass without Robby moving his hips. When my back is against his chest his boner is as far up my ass as it can reach. Robby's strong arms tighten further around me picking me up slightly as he bends back so I'm now standing on my toes and the head of his cock probes another half inch deeper. I go, "Ooooh, ooooh, ummmm." Robby sets me back on my feet and begins withdrawing his cock, it comes almost all the way out as the lips of my ass sizzle and quiver, and I moan, "Ooooh, mmmm, aaah." His fat boner begins the trip back up my ass with my shoulders now shuddering like they do. I hear a long exhale of Robby's held breath, and then steady, subtle ,"Slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds of medium speed fucking, his groin smacking against my buttocks, becomes the prominent sound in the room. A sound I've come to love because it's usually associated with sexual pleasure of varying degrees, but it's always pleasurable. A few minutes ago I was on the verge of a second serious climax, but I've weathered that and got over the hump so that now I'm in it for the long haul and it feels wonderful right from the start. Robby picks up the speed, grunting now, and then moaning, "Mmmm, feels so good, baby, mmm." He's slamming into my ass harder and faster as the minutes slide deliciously by. Each penetration it's like a faster and harder one than the preceding one as Robby is obviously feeling it now with his climax building and building.
I begin slamming back into his thrusts, wanting to bend forward because that position might feel hotter, that's if it's possible to be hotter than this. I can't bend forward though because Robby's got me around my chest holding me tightly against his chest with his chin's bumping the top of my shoulder as he humps his hips faster and faster. Sensations of sexual pleasure begins ganging up on me and I'm moaning constantly, squirming in his arms and continuing my clumsy humping back on each slams of his cock up my ass. He starts making whining sound of deep desire as I feel my orgasm begin it's final build up, my balls get hard and move up near my body. I'm struggling in Robby's arms, sliding in our mutual sweat. The sweat that's formed between my back and his chest and stomach. He's hammering his cock in me desperately now as I'm getting into a whining phrase of desire myself... the need to climax has built into a desperate need. Robby leans forward against me grunting, he stays there humping against my butt cheeks without withdrawing his iron cock. Then, with a squeal and a noticeable tightening of his muscles, I feel his hard body against me as a sharp stream of cum strikes the walls of my bowels, creamy, wet and warm. Every muscle in my groin tightens, I gasp and shake, feeling dizzy with sexual sensations coming from everywhere. My cock quivers and my balls ache. Then, with my boner sticking six inches straight out from my body, as hard as steel, I shake violently one more time and out flies a splattering of cum, almost a spray of semen, and with my head back on Robby's shoulder the splattering is followed by a hard stream of spunk with me struggling in Robby's arms causing the stream to be squiggly instead of a straight line. Another three fast streaks of cum with my body that's become as hard as a board, and them I slump weakly against Robby with my skin shimmering and my shoulders shuddering again. Chills and a
prickling feeling on my scalp. I gasp, "Robby, Robby... ummm, oooh, ump, ooh," as sensations sizzle around my groin, my ass muscles seem to spasm for a few second and then things settle down. I lay back against Robby as he lazily thrusts his cock in my sloppy rectum before stopping completely and we lay against each other swaying on our feet. Heavy breathing and our hearts pounding, we groan quietly feeling weak but sexually satisfied. Robby sways us side to side, his cock still inside me.
After a minute my dizziness passes. Robby takes little steps backwards, murmuring, "Walk backward with me, baby. Yeah, that's it, ooh, it feels so good," as he falls backward on our bed with me on top of him, his cock still inside me. I'm blinking my eyes fast, disoriented and then I try remembering
all the awesome sensations I felt while Robby fucked me, but they all blend into one awesome sexual feeling of love and pleasure. Another deep breath from both of us before Robby slowly turns us up on our sides, and his cock come out of me. We lay on our sides with Robby still hugging me, his chest still against my back but his limp fat wet cock is now flattened between his groin and my butt cheek. A final tight hug and he lets go of me and rolls over on his back. I rustle around to lay on my stomach, then go up on my elbows looking down at Robby. We're looking at each other with little half grins on our lips. His turns into a big grin, then he says, "We're getting good at this, no?" I mutter, "Yeah, we're getting the hang of it. I love that you initiated and took charge of our extemporaneous sex, Robby, mister head of the household." He laughs, "What's so fucking great about that phrase? You mention it a lot." I go, "No I don't," and he says, "Do so, " and I go, "Do not." Robby says, "I believe I stopped doing that 'did so', 'did not' nonsense in forth grade." I go, "It really should be resurrected in college. Match some of the other mature shit college students do." He says, "Would not," and I say, "Would so," and Robby's cell phone rings from his jeans' pocket somewhere on the floor.
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com (mailto:thinat20@yahoo.com)
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I have had two books published that are available on Amazon that maybe you would like to order and read. Actually one book and one short story. The short story is titled "Concealed Agony - Gay Romance" (and I didn't pick that title.) Read this short story first. And the book is named "Oliver's Wildwood Vacation" They are both about 'Oliver'. You can easily find them by searching for 'Donny Mumford' at the Amazon web site.
And I would appreciate it if you would provide a comment at the site for the stories as well.
Thanks.
Donny Mumford
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