Dylan's Sophomore Year

DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR

Chapter 14

by Donny Mumford

Right now I'm in the shower thinking about going to bed, and it's not even nine o'clock. It's been a strange seven days here at Merrimack with me turning down so much side-sex lately I find myself hopelessly horny. Thank God for that extemporaneous sex with Robby this afternoon or else this would be

yet another sex-starved day for me. I wonder if what I'm experiencing is like drug and alcohol withdrawal? My lack of sex is probably having a negative effect on my neural and hormonal systems too, as well as my mind. This can't possibly be what Robby has planned for us, not this soon anyway. How the hell do some of my fellow students go weeks, or as long as a whole year for some unfortunate guys, without having sex with someone? They depend on jerking off I suppose, but that's an inferior substitute for sex! Jesus! It's like I'm testing myself to see how much sex I can deprive my mind and body of. Sure, there are crazy monks in monasteries high in the mountains of Tibet somewhere who go forever without having sex of any kind, the fanatical loonies. Obviously that's not normal behavior and probably offends the laws of nature, whatever they might be. The fact is I'm overdoing it again, but this time I'm overdoing it by going too far in the other direction. Some side-sex every now and then keeps the bodily systems in balance. I've gotta assume that's true, in my case anyway. This coming weekend probably isn't happening at a good time for me either. I say that because I see little to no opportunities for side-sex possibilities Saturday or Sunday, and then we're right back at school on Monday. I've passed up so many side-sex opportunities this week, opportunities that probably won't be coming around again for awhile, if they ever come around again. And it doesn't help that I refuse to change my philosophy about seeking side-sex, which is: I never seek it out myself. It still has to happen on it's own and, like I said, once I say 'no' to guys like Dougie, Jamie, Danny Monday, and Ryan they aren't likely to ask again. No one likes rejection, and I just listed all the side-sex possibilities I know of here at Merrimack, so it's a bleak outlook. Plus, Robby and I didn't have our 'talk' about side-sex for the week, so I didn't even get to brag about my efforts in that regard. I'm screwing this up, and for what? Robby's having his sexy fun, probably.

Man, it ain't easy being me sometimes. Anyway, fuck it, I refuse to feel sorry for myself. Okay, another topic: the reason I'm going to bed this early is I want a good nights sleep so I'll be well rested to welcome home two good friends tomorrow, Conner and Dodger. Plus I don't have anything else to

do. Seeing the Army boys will be a good time for all of us. I've sincerely missed them both, but wait a second here; I didn't consider Connor, who claims to be in love with me. In reality I think it's more a case of him wanting to be in love, but he hasn't discovered what love is yet, and anyway that's not the point. He'll probably hint around for side-sex, so why shouldn't I accommodate him? I mean, he's a wonderful young man and I love him as a friend, plus he's one of our country's military who are dedicated to protecting our freedom, so ya know, show him some appreciation. Yes, our two Framingham Army boys triumphant return is finally here and all Americans need to take our hats off to these guys. Okay, they've only conquered basic training so far, but there will be other things for them to conquer in the future. I'm hoping they think of this as a triumphant return anyway, and I don't see why they wouldn't. For one thing they both were selected for leadership training school, which I would think they'd be proud of. They were the only two chosen out of all the guys in their platoon, or barracks, or whatever it's called. Sure, it meant they had to stay an extra week after basic training, but there are benefits for doing that. For example, as I understand it, at their assignment in Advanced Individual Training, which will be in Sam Houston, Texas, for medic training, they'll be assistant squad leaders. Because of that they get to have their own room in the barracks instead of sharing bunk beds with a whole bunch of guys out on the floor. They don't know what the other perks they'll be, but they say there'll be some. Both Connor and Dodger felt it was worth the extra week of training, and they'd know better than I. Hmmm, I wonder how it was decided they were suited for training to be medics? No one's explained that, but the best part is they'll be together. Both of them emailed me saying they're very happy about that unexpected development. I'm no expert, but it seems to me being a medic is better than being in infantry training, crawling around in the dirt and whatnot.

Shutting the shower off and drying myself I'm now thinking about Dougie Hamilton and his roommate Jamie, and their first fuck together a little while ago. They wanted a three-some but I stupidly said 'no', so then they insisted I observe them doing it, mostly for Jamie's benefit. He felt better having an experience person present for his first time, claiming it would ease his mind. He claimed it would allowed him to relax a little too. You know, in case anything went wrong, which is so crazy it's almost funny. They called it refereeing their first sex. How insane is that? It was hot though, oh yeah! They said I helped them break the ice about having sex together. What the hell, I felt good helping them, and the part I should be proud of is that I didn't participate. Having said that, I now realize I made a mistake because I'm hornier than I've ever been in my life. Watching Dougie fucking Jamie heightened my horniness to levels unheard of previously. I can't help but think turning down all this side sex isn't what it's cracked up to be. I'm not a friggin' martyr, so why am I acting like one. Sure, I want to cut down on side-sex for Robby, but I've overdone it obviously. I tend to overdo at times, with everything. I imagine moderation applies when one's cutting down on side sex, or if not it should apply. Moderation with side-sex and with cutting back on it. And, as I said, I'm not suppose to be acting like I belong to some fanatical, celibate religious order. I merely need to cut out a little side sex, not go crazy with it. I'm grasping that concept a little bit late unfortunately. Yep, it's clear to me now. Tonight I should have helped those two out and had a three-way sex-a-thon with them like they wanted. Gawd, that would have been hot! Those young studs with their young cocks and their scarcity of sex. It combines to make them awesomely horny and eager for an orgasm like only gay sex can provide. As it was, the orgasm Jamie had was priceless! His first stream of cum shot out with the force of a fire hose and didn't come down to earth until it was six feet away, and his follow-up streams were almost as explosive. BAM! What a climax! Ha ha, oh man! It was his first orgasm getting fucked up the ass and I'm thinking he won't soon forget it. Those two are probably going at it for seconds right now while I'm here beating myself up. Nothing I can do about it now. What the fuck, I'll brush my teeth and get to bed. Yeah, but that was some hot young sex those two had. It was like me back in the day when my fat mentor, Carl, took a personal interest in fucking me extra hard. And what'd I do as Dougie's mentor, nothing except reject him. What kind of a mentor is that? Hmmm, this melancholy mood I'm in is sort of morbid, and I don't like it at all. Brighten up! That's what I need to do.

Here's something that still might work out. Jamie mentioned twice that Dougie is fanatical about having sex with me. If another opportunity presents itself I just might let him do it. Of course, there's also a chance he may never suggests it again for the reason I thought of earlier about guys resenting rejection. However, the young can sometimes let rejection roll off their backs. And they can be more persistent than an older guy too. An older, more experienced guy might just say fuck it and move on to someone else. In any case it'll still need to be Dougie suggesting it to me, although he won't need to say please like Ryan insisted I do that time. Yeah, and what's up with Ryan? It's so strange, but I need to admit the sexual fire seems to have gone out between us. It's like he was baiting me for an argument during the weight lifting. Was he looking for an excuse to end it between us? If so, why? Oh well, he got himself messed up in the head this summer and I don't know what I can do about that. Best I can do at this point is be his friend and try excusing his weird behavior. Yeah, but it sure looks like our screwing days together are behind us. Be that as it may, it doesn't mean I need to go without any side sex at all. Okay, I've purposely missed some opportunities lately, which has put me in the position of hoping they'll be others opportunities. Not exactly familiar territory for me, but there it is staring me in the face. If an invitation for side-sex should miraculously appears out of the blue I won't swing and miss at it this time. Hmmm, perhaps when all is said and done I spend way too much time thinking about sex, or the scarcity of it. Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's a possibility.

Getting in bed, I'm determined to put thoughts of sex to the side for awhile. After laying here a few minutes I'm thinking how it feels odd being in bed this early. I'll never get to sleep! Then, the next thing I know I open my eyes and look at my watch, yes I wear my wristwatch to bed. It's eight minutes after eight! Wow, I almost slept twelve hours, so I must have needed the sleep. Rustling around from my left side to my right side, I now see just the top of Robby's head. The covers hide half his head, probably from him bouncing around in his sleep. Strange that he didn't wake me up when he came to bed last night. How late could a beer and pizza party with teammates have lasted? Huh, if I was the suspicious type I might think Robby was out messing around after the party with that hot infielder, Danny Monday. Robby doesn't hold his booze very well either, and when he's slightly inebriated his inhibitions lessen. With less inhibition, what he might not think to do when sober all of a sudden seems like a damn good idea when drunk. Luckily I can hold my liquor better than Robby, but that's not the point here. The point is that side-sex is still allowed for Robby and me, and he's entitled to mess around with Danny if he chooses. I'm going to leave it at that because I don't want to know what, if anything, happened sexually between them. Robby's realistic about that, and I haven't been at times. The bottom line, I've overdone turning side-sex down, so that's on me and my poor judgement. The ironic thing about all this is, I not only get disappointed in myself when I overdo side-sex, now I'm disappointed that I overdid turning it down. What I need to do is find some middle ground... the moderation thing I was thinking about should be my latest motto. Moderation in everything including side sex. That's if I ever get another chance for side-sex. I could be on the precipice of a long draught in that regard, so I better prepare myself mentally for the fallout. Jesus, I hope I don't get depressed! I've heard depression's a bitch.

Oh man, it's too early to get up so I better try going back to sleep. I quickly realize that's not happening so I get up telling myself to stop thinking about sex, period! After my bathroom ritual, I pull on some sweat pants, step into sandals, and go shirtless into the kitchen for coffee. Fiddling with my nip ring, the one Ryan gave me, I'm looking out the sliding glass door and see that it's real sunny outside. Nice! And it's suppose to be unseasonably warm today too. I wouldn't want a cold rainy day greeting Connor and Dodger back home. Putting some music on, but not too loudly, I take my coffee to the balcony along with the Boston Globe sports page. My intention is to have some quiet time all by my lonesome. Lighting a cigarette, I smoke while reading the paper and drinking my coffee. Multitasking. When I'm done with that I lay on the outdoor chaise lounge thinking again about Dougie and Jamie making-out on this thing last night. They were hot together and I'm happy for both of them. That's proper mature thinking right there... be happy for them instead of feeling sorry for myself. I'll be fine. Then I let my mind wander deeply into a complicated sexual fantasy involving Sonny, Dougie, Jamie, me and that hot ticket from Wildwood, Junior, in a sexy five-way sex-a-thon. It's getting molten hot in my mind when Chubby bops out joining me on the balcony with his awesome brotherly-love smile. My fantasy fizzles away as Chubby rubs my hair, mumbling, "Hi, my beautiful brother. You're up early." I hop up off the chaise lounge and give him a kiss good morning, then tell him how I went to sleep last night at nine o'clock. He yawns, saying, "Well, I'm happy for you, bro. I got to bed, smelling like french fries, around two-thirty. Dude, that's a long-ass shift at Mc Donalds, eight friggin' hours straight."

Grinning at him, I go, "Oh, you poor thing. I've heard a rumor though... it's that out in the real world of business everyone works eight-hour days." He chuckles, asking, "Are they all going to college at the same time they're working those eight hour days?" He's got me there. He says, "It wasn't all bad though, I met another chick last night. She was in my line during a shift I had on one of the registers. It's weird because she wasn't really stacked or anything, but she was still sexy somehow. I think it was her enormous lips. They looked swollen like from a couple of bee stings, or maybe a wasp sting or two. Anyway, she gave me her phone number." I go, "Uh huh, wasp stings on the lips must sting. Hey, how's Clitoris doing?" He grins at me, "Dolores? I renamed her, Babs, remember? She's pissed at me because I can't take her out tonight. Her and her girlfriend stopped by for free burgers." I ask, "How's that work?" Chubby shrugs, "It's no big deal. I ring up her order, she gives me a dollar bill, and I give her four quarters change. The register won't balance of course, but it never balances anyway." I frown, "That's sort of like you're stealing, no?" He goes, "What? What the fuck ya talking about? No, I'm not the one eating the fucking burgers! Babs is the one stealing." I laugh, "Um, I don't think it works that way." Chubby's on to another topic, saying, "You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna fix you up with a babe, and we'll double date. Your problem is you've never tried having sex with a girl. Oh my God, you'll be pleasantly surprised. It's quite different from, um..." then he shrugs and doesn't finish his sentence. I know why too. It's because it reminded him that he's tried the other way with me. Plus that animal, Ricky, did it to Chubby. I don't know how many times he did it with Chubby during those horrible window washer days, but it's scarred my brother. Chubby was sort of brainwashed by Ricky and his father in those days. Not just Chubby, all the window washer boys. This is a taboo topic, so I'm not going there.

I let Chubby's unfinished sentence lay there for a second, and then change the subject to get Chubby's mind off that bad memory. "Ya know, Chubby, today is the day for the return of our friends, Dodger and Connor." He goes, "Yeah, that's awesome! Robby emailed me yesterday. You and him are picking up your friend, Cory, right?" I go, "Yeah, if Robby ever gets out of bed. When are you heading back to Framingham?" He says, "Sometime this morning. I wanna be there when mom wakes up. Um, do you think Robby would mind if I brought MJ to the welcome home thing?" I go, "Yeah, everyone will mind, but I'm sure it'll be okay with Robby anyway." He chuckles, pointing at me with his finger, grinning, "Be nice, bro. She's not so bad." I go, "As long as nobody mentions extraterrestrials to her we should be okay." He laughs, "That was a blast, wasn't it? Miss-information. Jesus!" Good, his mind's off the unpleasant shit involving the window washer days of years gone by. Some things linger in the back of your consciousness forever, and then flash through your brain torturing you when you least expect it. Chubby glances at the sports page as we talk about the surprising Red Sox, then Robby joins us. He sounds like he's hurting, "Hi guys. Good morning, I think ." Chubby says, "Dude, you don't look too good." Robby takes a deep breath, "I drank too much last night." He leans down and gives me a kiss on the lips, "Wha'cha do last night, Dylan? Have any fun?" I say, "Sort of I guess, I gave those guys haircuts and we hung around talking and finishing off the Rolling Rock beer." Chubby asks, "Who's turn is it to buy the beer?" We try to figure that out for awhile until Robby finally says, "Fuck it, I'll get the next case," adding, "But we'll soon be drinking draft light beer in honor of the PX boys. That's what they drink at the PX." Chubby mutters, "Nothing wrong with that. Um, Robby, would you mind if I brought MJ to the thing tonight?" Robby goes, "Of course I don't mind, Chub, bring anyone you want." That makes me wonder if I should ask about inviting Seth, then think better of it because Robby's got this thing in his head that Seth's a side-sex partner of mine. Well, he is, but no sense making it official and clouding the issue. Especially now when I've been turning down side-sex left and right. I'll have a good report to make if we ever have our so-called meeting. No, I'm sure we'll have that 'talk' sooner or later, and I should get some praise for my Herculean efforts turning down side sex. Hmmm, I wonder how Seth's making out with his online dating partner, Jackie Bradley? Yeah, Seth....

Chubby goes inside to take a shower. Robby and I go inside to get another cup of coffee. Back on the balcony I light a cigarette and offer one to Robby. He waves his hand at it, muttering, "Oh God, no. I smoked too much last night, along with too many beers." I ask, "Did you have a good time at least?" He nods his head, "Oh yeah, baby, it was fun. We've got a good bunch of guys. The infielders rock, but I'm paying the price today when I should be at my best to welcome the Army boys home." I tell Robby, "What you need to do is take some Tylenol and drink a big glass of OJ, then lay down and get some more sleep. Later I'll drive us home and you can rest more during the ride." He grins at me, "You're awesome, Dylan, thanks. I could use another hour or so of sleep." He gets up and kisses me again, mumbling, "Love ya," then goes in to do what I suggested. Huh, he just about admitted that him and Danny were fucking around last night. I hope I don't see any embarrassing cum stains on the pick-up's seat. Embarrassing for Robby, not me. On the other hand, how would I know it's not one of my cum stains from all the times Robby fucked me in that awesome pickup. Heh heh, we had some great sexy times in that truck. I wonder if Danny's a top, and if he'll ever proposition me again. Probably not. But what the hell am I doing thinking about sex again. I need to get a grip!

After changing the CD, I'm back on the chaise lounge trying not to think about sex. Instead I find myself getting slightly sentimental thinking of all the nonsexual things about Connor and Dodger I've appreciated over the last few years, all the things that made me love them. I can see Connor's face, his incredibly good looking Irish face. Dark hair and pale complexion, beautiful eyes, and above everything else, his smile... that's the unbelievable thing about Connor, he smiles right back into the face of his hard life. He kind of smiled his way through it. And what an honorable life he's led overcoming those obstacles, ones he had to face everyday. The poverty and living in that dangerous neighborhood. It's like daily his life and well being were in danger. Every time he left their small apartment he faced the possibility of being beaten-up or worse, and by the very kids living in his own rundown neighborhood. The losers who gave in to the struggles of poverty, joining gangs after dropping out of school. Connor would not submit to any of it. As a lonely gay boy with no family other than a crack head for a mother, he fought the odds with his shy smile being his only defense. He fought passively against the negative factors he encountered all the time. His mother existed on welfare and the money Connor made working part-time jobs, and yet Connor overcame all that and managed to go to school every day. Each day he'd wear those ratty sneakers and one or the other of the only two pairs of jeans and two white shirts he owned. Each night he washed one set in the bathtub and wore the other to school the next day. Connor told me about his sad wardrobe situation one night. He of course shrugged it off, blushing with embarrassment at the same time. Well, it shocked me maybe more than many of his other hardships because high school kids are generally very conscious about their appearance, and here was Connor with two shirts and two pairs of faded jeans. After hearing that I remember the hatred I felt for his absentee father and his worthless mother. I knew not to share my anger about that with Connor because he didn't see bad things. He would have brushed it off with, 'Oh, others are worse off than me'. I know he'd say that, so I said nothing.

Connor, that sweet, brave kid who walked two miles to and from his apartment building everyday, no matter the weather, to catch the school bus in a safer part of town, and always with his shy smile and quiet nice word for everyone. He was a damn good student too. A conscientious hard worker. Yeah, his friendship inspires me even as I think about the circumstances of his life that break my heart. So many heart wrenching strokes of bad luck befell that boy, but still the smile from Connor who seemingly refused to acknowledge any of it. Words can't express my frustration at the unfairness of life, the harsh soulless reality of never-ending hard times for some. The Army

represents Connor's best chance to victoriously and convincingly beat the overwhelming obstacles in his life once and for all. He needed to overcome so many degrading and horrific circumstances just to graduated high school, and then he completed his freshman year at Merrimack too. More bad luck though when his college benefactor who cosigned for his college loans died unexpectedly. So what did Connor do? Cry and feel sorry for himself? Of course not, he enlisted in the Army and now in two years, minus nine weeks, of additional honorable service, Connor will have fulfill his enlistment commitment. During that time he'll have accumulated, through savings and the Army college fund, all the money he needs to complete his college education. And I have no doubt he'll do it. Not a single doubt! After that he'll get a good paying job, and he'll finally walk away from all the negative influences he grew up enduring. He's already conquered all the shit he was forced to deal with for almost twenty years, now he'll finish the job in the Army, then college, and I can only pray to God he'll still have his smile when it's all been said and done.

Then there's Dodger with an opposite life experience. Dodger's parent aren't rich so much as they're hard working people who make a honest, above-average living. Nice home and a loving environment to grow up in. Dodger and his brother, Robby, are almost as close as Chubby and me. There's lots of love in the family for all, love and support. A hard working, but frugal family. For example, Dodger got the hand me down pickups from his older brother, who got them from his dad. So they had their own modest transportation, but nothing like new or fancy ones, and they were all content with what they had. No jealousy or sibling rivalry among the brothers and the parent doted on them just about the right amount if you ask me. So Dodger had that going for him, but we all have demons and whatever Dodger's were caused him to enlist in the Army. That may turn out to be admirable in itself when we find out why he enlisted, but there are things I admired about Dodger before he enlisted. For one thing, his obvious love of life making it infectious for those around him. Every minute Dodger enjoyed it to the fullest and he dragged others along for the ride, almost willing them to have fun. He enjoys life and put lots of energy into making other's lives around him brighter. I admire his intelligence and wit too. He's a funny kid, much like Chubby. Dodger and Chubby are actually kindred spirits, and they both shine somehow. They have a glow about them. Both are extremely loyal to their friends and family. Dodger's mischievous, but never devious. Under his grinning smart-ass remarks and hijinks is a responsible and caring person. Like Connor, Dodger's also a gay boy in hiding. He dealt with the challenges of that, challenges that straight boys couldn't possibly fathom, but like Connor, Dodger deals with what he needs to deal with smiling all the way. Dodger's fun to be around, period. His outrageousness delights me and makes me laugh and feel good. I also love that he loves me in friendship... it makes me feel special and good about myself. He always makes me feel special and he did the first day I met him right up till the last day I saw him. He's a confident kid, more so than his brother, and I've always admired that. Yeah, I admire Dodger. The way he brashly joined the Army for reasons of his own, is so typically Dodger. He did it for reasons unknown, except by him, but I'm pretty sure his reason or reasons for doing what he did are good ones. I love both of the Army boys, but for totally different reasons. To me, friends are more valued than gold. Friends bring my life alive with a brilliant light. My best friend, Chubby, is reason enough to wake up every day happy... happy and looking forward to what comes next.

Ya know what? I just had a thought. I should get a little something as a welcome home gift for both Connor and Dodger. Hmmm, maybe a cool necklace, or no, one of those cool leather wrist bracelets like Willie gave me. Yeah, they're not that expensive, but they're something to remind the guys I'm thinking of them whenever they wear it. Getting up off the chaise lounge, I go

in to check on Robby. He's sleeping peacefully looking so cute, young, and

innocent. I almost said 'pretty' too. He and Dodger are freaks of nature in that they're beautiful with awesome bodies and God-given athletic skills.

Looking enough alike to be twins, especially now that Dodger's had his growth spurt and is now a half inch taller than Robby and me. Yeah, twins except Dodger has brown hair and brown eyes and Robby has blue eyes and blond hair. Quite a pair of exceptional brothers. I'm thrilled I know them. While Robby sleeps on, I've sincere hope he feels a lot better when he wakes up this time. I think he will. Leaving a note telling him what I'm doing, I grab his keys to the pickup and go down the stairs and outside to find where he parked the pickup last night. What a surprise! The pickup's parked in the second row, right down from the back door. How does he do that? I can never find a good parking space.

While driving to the Rockinham Mall in Salem, New Hampshire, I'm wondering why I didn't take the Jeep. Then I remember why, Chubby's driving home this morning to be there when his mom wakes up. I'd like to do that too, but Robby need for more sleep to recover from his hangover supersedes me getting home early. At the mall, ah ha! for once I find a good parking spot near one of the doors to Macy's. As I'm pulling into it, out of the corner of my eye, I see a woman walking towards the parking lot. She stops about six feet from me while I park, and then goes on her way. I think nothing of it. That is until I get out of the pickup feeling good about my idea to buy a welcome home gift for my two friends. I take a few steps towards the crosswalk to Macy's when another woman, this one in a big SUV, stops at the entrance to the parking garage. She puts her car window down, and arrogantly says to me, "What's wrong with you? You cut right in front of that woman's path to the parking garage. Where's your manners?" I'm baffled as I look at her, thinking, 'What the fuck?' This is nuts, so I frown at her as she sits there all righteous and politically correct in her huge SUV. Of course the first thought that enters my mind is, 'Why don't you go fuck yourself?' Instead I ask, "I don't want to be rude, but have you ever given a thought to minding your own business? Did you ever think of that, ever give it a thought?" She turns red, and I add, "That woman and me were fine with each other. She hadn't even reached the parking garage when I'd finished parking." The woman in the SUV is indignant now, and snarls, "Watch your fresh mouth. She had to stop, that's why she didn't reach the garage. You bullied your way in front of her. You obviously weren't raised properly, that's plain to see," and I go off. "You holier than thou pompous ass. Don't you dare disparage the way I was raised. I don't go around sticking my nose in everybody's business like you obviously do. You assume you know what's the only right way to do things, but I'm here to tell you that you can stick your opinion of that up your fat ass, you busybody bitch!" I'm walking towards her during my rant. She gets a little hysterical, yelling, "I'm calling the police." I say, "You do that, bitch, the police love to be bothered with bullshit like this." Her tires squeal as she pulls away, red faced and sputtering with saliva spray hitting her windshield. After watching her driving wildly away, I get back in the pickup and move it to the other side of the parking lot. So much for a good parking spot, but it makes no sense taking the chance she connects with a cop as fucked-up as she is. In some situations there's no way you can win, so fuck 'em... and avoid them. The woman walking hadn't given a thought about waiting for two seconds while I finished parking. She wasn't even out of the crosswalk yet!

Yeah, I can try rationalizing it away, but the fact is I'm still fuming as I go into Macy's. Something like that can ruin a good day. It's ass backwards that people walking in the street have the right away, and cars must screech to a halt. What the fuck are sidewalks for? Of course I stop at crosswalks when someone wants to cross the street, but it's dangerous and stupid to slam on the brakes at would be jay walkers thinking maybe they're going to walk out in front of you, or screech on the brakes every time you see someone walking near a parking lot. Jesus, it makes no sense! I go to the second level where Dunkin' Donuts is located for an iced coffee to cool off. That pushy woman got my blood pressure boiling. What makes a person feel they have the right to chastise a total stranger, especially when the total stranger did nothing wrong. It's infuriating! What must she be like to live with, or deal with in any daily capacity? Scary thought! After getting my iced coffee I'm outside Dunkin' Donuts checking out the passing parade of people. Not much of interest here except I see a young teen wearing an outrageous t-shirt. It reads on the front, 'No! I haven't seen your LSD, dude. But, have you seen the fucking dragons in the kitchen?!' Ha ha, ballsy of him to wear that politically incorrect t-shirt. I'd love for that bitch in the SUV to see this dude's t-shirt. Oh man! Ha ha! Too bad the kid wearing the t-shirt looks like a troll. Wait a minute, ooh, look at that guy. A slim, cool looking Asian dude about nineteen is walking by doing something with his cell phone. Cute face with just the right amount of whiskers to look hot, but still remain boyish looking. Fairly short hair, dark-brown, and cut right. He wears it in that purposely messed-up look. Some guys are just naturally cooler than the rest of us. Unfortunately I don't react fast enough to pull my bogus mistaken identity bit on him. I'd love to talk with him up close. Dammit, I'm horny. Walking across the aisle, I lean my elbows on the brass railing looking down at the people on the first level. I do not tilt my hand that's holding my coffee to check my wristwatch. That's what Harry Black did pouring his coffee on passers by below. Ha ha, what a piece of work he is. I wonder if Harry ever thinks about sex? Maybe he does, then gets frustrated he can't get any, and that's why he gets drunk so much. Anyway I'm feeling better now myself.

Finished my iced coffee, I look for leather bracelets in Macy's. Everything is constantly on sale here, which is probably bullshit. It's likely they purposely mark the price higher than they intend selling it for so they can discount the items to the amount they had in mind in the first place. Still it feels better when you think you're getting a bargain. Men's leather bracelets have a wide range of prices depending on how much silver there is on the bracelet and the grade of leather. Hell, some of them aren't even made of leather. I look at twisted leather ones with stainless steel clasps, finally settling on double strand dark-brown leather bracelets with, yep, a stainless steel clasp. Plain, but the kind most guys would wear, not all jazzed up like some of the choices in the display case. These are very much like the one Willie bought for me, only my clasp is silver. I can't tell the difference. These are $49.99 each without sales tax, and that's because I'm in New Hampshire and not Taxachusetts. The sales lady gifts wraps them in small boxes at no extra charge, and off I go.

Back at the apartment I find Robby still sleeping and then Chubby comes out of his bedroom shiny clean and smiling at me. I love him so. Huh, as it turns out I could have used the Jeep. Chubby's giving me that nice-to-see-you smile, asking, "What do you have in the bag, bro?" I tell him about the bracelets for Connor and Dodger. He looks at me, then goes, "You are the nicest person I know, Dylan. You're awesome, I mean, that's so sweet." I ask, "How about if I say these are from you, me, and Robby?" He says, "No, you deserve the thanks. It was your idea. Dude, I love ya. See you at the condo, Dylan." He's carrying a satchel with some stuff he's taking home with him. We hug and do a quick kiss on the lips, then Chubby's on his way. Damn, he smells good, and yes, he's sexy too. The girls are damn lucky to have my brother dating them. I wonder who called who about the date tonight, Chubby or Mary Jo? Could it be Chubby and I are both equally oversexed, and if so, did we get it from our dad? Huh, never thought about that before, but Chubby's turned into as big a horn job as me. On different teams of course, except once in a blue moon when the stars are aligned just right our teams come together for a brief moment in time and that's awesome.

I've got two welcome-home cards and I sign each card, 'We love you Army guys, welcome home. From: 'The roommates, Robby, Chubby, and Dylan'. They should think of all of us when they look at their bracelets. In the bedroom I quietly put together the coolest stuff I own for tonight's party, most of it gifts from Willie. Damn, I've got to call him to be sure he's okay. Then I'm ready to go, but Robby's still sleeping. For the next fifteen minutes I talk with my mom on my cell phone filling her in on my stuff I haven't told her about yet. Things that happened the first week back at college, and then explain I'll have at least one sleep over guest tonight. Mom's excited about the Army boys being on leave too, and says, "I can just imagine how excited Dodger's mom is to see him, and his dad too of course. It's just that between moms and sons there's something so special in that relationship, and sweetheart I know we have it too." She gets a little choked up, making it awkward for me. Then mom gets excited all over again and tells me about a regular customer leaving her a three hundred dollar tip for dinner. She says, "He was at Rockingham Racetrack and won a big race. He's such a doll." Mom then talks about the 'doll' for five minutes and then she gets a beep on her phone meaning someone is calling her. She says, "Dylan, honey, let me get rid of this other call and I'll..." I interrupt. "No, no, mom. Take your call. It's probably Tris. I'll see you in a little while anyway, we're leaving soon." Mom takes a full minute saying goodbye, and then we end the call. I can't help but grin because mom's a talker and I'm not a really good small talk listener ... not yet I'm not.

Poking my head in the bedroom again I see that Robby's awake now, grinning back at me. "Come here, boyfriend," so I go over and lean down for a kiss and he pulls me on top of him. We make-out for a few minutes, then Robby says, "I'm gonna take my boner into the bathroom with me, and take a shower. I'll be quick. Could you make me one of your fantastic fried egg sandwiches?" I go, "Sure thing, boss," kissing him again. Then I wander into the kitchen as he goes into the bathroom. Hopefully he's as happy as I am. We're making some progress now towards getting on our way back home, and I'm anxious to get home all of a sudden. I'd like to give my mom a kiss before she leaves for work. But for now, no sense starting Robby's fried egg sandwich until I hear the shower turn off, so I'll pour a big glass of orange juice for him and keep it cold for him in the refrigerator. I'll have a sandwich too so I get out four eggs, four slices of white bread, a sweet onion, ketchup, and two slices of American cheese. That's what goes into my breakfast sandwiches. Sauté a little bit of thinly sliced sweet onion, Vidalia onions are the best, put the bread in the toaster and set the dial for 'light' toasting. When the toast pops up I spread the sautéed onions on a slice of toast for each sandwich, and put two more slices of bread in the toaster. Then I wipe out the frying pan and add butter, then crack the eggs in the pan and slowly fry then over easy, two for each sandwich. While the four eggs are slowly frying, a piece of American cheese goes on the onion spread slices of toast and into the microwave briefly to melt the cheese. Turn the eggs over and just before taking them out of the pan pierce the yolks so it's running all over the entire fried eggs. Two eggs on top of one another on the slices of bread with the melted cheese and spread on some ketchup. Lastly, sprinkle liberally with salt and pepper and top with the other slice of toast. "Ready, Robby!" Simple!

Waiting for Robby I text Cory quickly that we'll be over within the half hour, and he texts back. 'You're awesome to do this, Dylan.' I nod my head, thinking how it makes me feel wonderful anytime I can brighten that kid's life even a tiny bit. He thinks I'm doing him a favor, but I actually think I get more out of my so-called favors than he does. I admire someone like Cory too. He was man enough to correct his own behavior, first admitting he was wrong and then doing something about it. Cory was such a... well, such a pain in the ass when I first met him. He was really hard to take, but something was there. I didn't know what, but I thought, 'Let me try one more time to get through to him'. Actually I needed to think that thought a couple of times, but I was eventually right about him. There was something special within him and he found it in himself and ran with it, finally turning himself into this sweet, good friend. If I helped him in any way to find himself, good for me, but I think it's benefited me as much as him. Now I've got another really good friend, plus the sense I tried doing something good for someone. Robby comes into the kitchen shirtless, breaking my train of thought because now I'm looking at his hot body. He gets his OJ from the frig, muttering, "Thanks, Dylan. This will hit the spot." I say, "There's two more Tylenol on the kitchen bar, you should take them with the OJ." He does that as I'm cutting the sandwiches in half. We sit at the kitchen bar eating our breakfast sandwiches without conversation, just grins to each other as we chew. When we're finished, Robby says, "Great breakfast sandwich, Dylan, thanks." He's always polite. I've already gotten together the clothes I wanna bring with me so I have a cigarette on the balcony while Robby's rustles up the few things he's bringing home. Then at twelve-thirty we're finally on our way, with me driving. "How's the hangover, Robby?" He mutters, "It's hanging in there, but manageable now. The first time I got up I considered blowing my brains out, but the first two Tylenol and extra rest helped some." I mutter, "Don't even kid about blowing your brains out." He lays his head back and closes his eyes, muttering, "I love you too," as I drive to Cory's.

When I pull up to the curb outside Cory's apartment building, naturally he standing there. He came down with his stuff to wait right after I texted him. There's a plastic bag in his hand by his side and I know from experience this is what Cory uses as his suitcase or satchel, which I say nothing about. Cory wouldn't consider keeping us waiting for him, so instead he's been standing here for thirty-five minutes in case we came early. Smiling uncertainly, he gets in the front as Robby slides over on the bench seat to the middle. Robby and I do the best we can shaking hands briefly with Cory, then doing awkward hugs in the cab of the pickup. Cory's so genuine, "This is so nice of you guys, thanks for thinking of me, really." I mutter, "No problem, Cory, we're glad to have you with us." He gets a little excited, "Ya know, heh heh, the last party I was at was my first real party. It was the going away party for these two awesome Army guys, of course. And now the second party I've ever been invited to is the welcome home party. Heh, heh, that's me, mister popular." I ask, "You're not friends with party animals at Stop & Shop yet?" He goes, "No, not really. I have sorta a friend from high school, that car mechanic genius I told you about. At Stop & Shop I'm the part timers supervisor, and so I'm kind of isolated from the part timers. Then I'm not on the same shift as my peers, the other part time supervisors. It's okay though, I don't mind, I'm fine. I'm kinda anxious to see Connor again though." Robby sounds funny, mumbling, "Yes, and I'm really anxious to see brother too. I've missed Dodger a lot." I glance at Robby and see tears in his eyes. I thought he sounded a little choked up." I quietly say, "Lay your head back, Robby, get some more rest." He nods his head and does just that as I explain to Cory, "Our boy here did a little too much partying with his baseball teammates last night." Cory looks at Robby, real concerned," Oh, I hope you feel better, Robby. Anything I can do?" Robby shakes his head 'no' as I mutter, "Best if he sleeps a bit."

No talking for the first half of the trip, which takes only about a half hour. The radio plays softly at 92.5 on the FM dial as I drive down route 125 and connect with route 93 south, then 128 south. Robby's head lays back on the seat, his eyes closed. Cory and I exchange a few grins, with Cory nodding at Robby while putting his finger to his lips, as in, 'Shhh,' being considerate of our hung over companion. I nod at Cory smiling, then reach across Robby with my hand for Cory to quietly slap, acknowledging we should let Robby rest. After the slap, Cory holds my hand for a second before letting it go. During the second half-hour of our trip home Robby seems to recover a little. He says, "That sandwich hit the spot, Dylan. I can imagine it soaking up the alcohol in my system." I ask, "Did you drink hard liquor last night?" He mumbles, "There were some shots toasting the team, yeah. Stupid I know, but when you're with a bunch of guys there's peer pressure, you know?" I nod my head hoping to hear more about the party, but Robby lays his head back against the seat again, without closing his eyes this time. Cory talks about what's been going on recently at Stop & Shop, bringing me up to date a little, with Robby chuckling at some of the oddities that happen on the job. Less than a half hour later I'm pulling into the Dicker's driveway. Robby's resting again, "We're here, Robby." He opens, then blinks his eyes a few times looking around, then mutters, "I wonder where everyone is?" Then Dodger and Connor come running out of the house, and Robby anxiously says, "Hop out, Cory," trying not to sound as excited as I know he is. I stare out the windshield at the two Army boys, just now realizing the extent of how much I've missed them, and my eyes tear up. Cory shakes hands with, and then hugs Conner as Robby and Dodger hug, then kiss. Still hugging Dodger, Robby's running his hand all over his brothers head and sandpaper-feeling hair of the basic training induction cut. I didn't know they kept giving the same severe haircut all the way through basic training. Stupid! Both brothers are laughing with tears running down their faces as I sit frozen in the front seat of the pickup. It's obviously and understandably emotional for them both. Then for a second I imagine how I'd feel seeing Chubby if he'd been away for eleven weeks, and I need to wipe my eyes. Not wanting to get in the way of the brothers greeting, or Connor and Cory's, I stay right here in the pickup's driver's seat. All the hugging, smiles and tears seem so sweet to me. Ha ha, shy Connor and Cory initially drifted towards one another, kindred spirits probably feeling more comfortable with one another than they would with most, understanding each other's shyness, then they awkwardly embraced. The other extreme being Dodger and Robby's initial reaction to one another where they threw themselves at each other.

Both Dodger and Robby are now wiping their eyes with the palms of their hands like little kids. They're talking excitedly with each other and I wish I could fade further into the background feeling a little like the third wheel. There's no place to hide though so I sit here feeling uncomfortable, like I don't belong. Then Dodger looks over, his eyes open wide as he notices me in the pickup. With a big grin on his face he climbs into the truck, asking, "What the fuck ya doing in here, Dylan?" He hugs me tightly and presses the side of his face to mine as I hug back, not sure what to say. Dodger sways us as we hug, murmuring, "You trying to hide from me in here, dude, my favorite friend ever is hiding from me?" I shake my head, trying to mumble, "I didn't want to get in the way," but Dodger talks over me, "The fucking sun was shining off the side window so I couldn't see you in here. I thought Robby drove." I'm choked up myself now as Dodger kisses me on the lips, maybe a wee bit too long, making my face turn red as I look out the window at the grinning faces of Cory, Connor, and Robby. Connor gives me a little wave of his hand without moving his arm. Oh God, this is so fucking sweet! Dodger says, "Get the fuck out of this truck, Dylan, so I can hug you properly." He slides over pulling me with him by my hand. We stumble out the passenger door and he gives me another hug lifting my feet off the ground a little this time, as he says to Robby, "Dylan isn't used to the Dickers' show of affection when one of us returns after being away." And Robby says, "Yeah, he's seen it before," meaning his and my rare reunions when we've been apart for a week or so.

Robby's parent's come out now and make a big fuss over Robby, then give me an awkward hug too. I can only imagine the reception Dodger got from his parents yesterday at the airport. Bet it embarrassed him, or maybe not. This is a very close knit family so maybe displays of affection are routine for them. Dodger lets go of me and joins the family group-hug. Seeing his opening, Connor shyly walks over to stand in front of me while Cory's staring at the Dicker's family, probably thinking, 'Oh, so this is how a normal family reacts at reunions,' and maybe Connor had that same thought. As for now, Connor is staring at me as he blushes and twists his hands together nervously. He mutters, "Um, hi, Dylan. I missed you." I step over to him smiling a big smile, and then hug him. His arms come around me hugging me with str onger arms than I remember him having. He buries his face against my neck and I give him an extra tight hug and feel his warm tears, as I say, "How awesome to see you again, Connor. How'd the Army treat you, dude?" He hugs tightly rubbing his face against my shoulder now, dampening my shirt with his tears. I'm rubbing his back until he lets go of me and backs away wiping his eyes, mumbling, "It was good, the Army's good, Dylan, thanks for asking." I put my arm across his shoulders giving them another hug, mumbling, "That's great, I'm glad." He nods his head, so I go, "Um, Dodger treat you okay?" He shrugs, "Yeah, what can I say about him? He's always, um, a huge help. Maybe it's corny, but Dodger's bigger than life and I came to see him as the big brother, the one I never had. I love him like a brother too. We're tight and I thanked God every night in my bunk for putting Dodger in my life. Um, Dodger and you, if there is a God, that is." I mumble, "Yeah, assume there's a God, what have you got to lose." He chuckles, "Yeah, how you been?" I shrug, "Except for missing you and Dodger, things in my life have been generally awesome." he goes, "I'm glad," and Cory breaks in, asking, "Mind if I join you guys?" Surprisingly Connor puts his arm across Cory's shoulder and gives him a hug, saying, "Of course you can join us, Cory. It's great to see you." Apparently some of Dodger has worn off on Connor, he never would have made a confident move like that before he went in the Army.

Conner tells me, "Cory and I have had some really intense emails, and some of them contained some fucking funny shit too. Cory's got a hidden side." Cory blushes, as I'm thinking, 'Fucking funny shit'? That doesn't sound like Connor. Ha ha, corrupted by Army life I guess, or by Dodger... probably a little of both. Mr. and Mrs. Dickers are on their way to pick up something for the cookout so we give them a wave goodbye. I feel good for them because it's an especially nice September day for a cookout, and nothing can fuck up a picnic like bad weather. Plus their beloved Dodger is here for awhile. After they drive off the five of us guys go into the pool house for a beer and to quiz the Army boys on basic training. As we're drinking the beer, without thinking, I take my pack of Marlboro out and Connor does a subtle shake of his head, glancing at Cory. Oh yeah, no smoking around Cory so I slip the pack back in my pocket. Nice to see Connor looking out for Cory. We're drinking beers from a six pack Dodger cleverly stashed out here expecting Robby and me, and wanting a little reunion before the one that's happening tonight. Robby looks at me making a face and holding the beer up, then he grins as he gags the beer down, making me laugh. I explain to Dodger and Connor, "One of us tied a load on last night and his beer's going down like shredded glass," and Dodger says, "Ha, Connor and me tied a pretty good one on last night ourselves, but I'm not having and problem drinking this beer." I ask, "Speaking of last night, how's Vinnie?" Connor and Dodger look at each other chuckling, then Dodger says, "Vinnie's good! Huh, Connor?" Connor blushes for some reason, muttering, "Uh huh, Vinnie's awesome." I'm not sure what they're referring to or chuckling about, and I don't think I want to find out. We go back to asking the two Army boys about life in the Army, asking them obvious questions like: how's the food? What time did they get you up each morning? How often do you have to get those awful induction haircut? What was you drill instructor like? How far did you run every day? Etc. etc. The boys give funny answers with Connor chipping in with his own quips and I marvel at the positive change I see in him already. It makes me feel good and I glance at Dodger, giving him a lot of the credit. We've finished our can of beer when Robby says, "It's great having you guys back for a couple weeks, I'll catch up with you some more later, but dad wants me to get some stuff downtown for tonight's party. I know you want to get home, Dylan, and say 'Hi' to your mom. You can either borrow Dodger's or my pickup. Dodger says, "I'll take care of my boy, Dylan, bro." I nod, "Thanks, Dodger." Robby looks at Connor and Cory, asking, "Can one of you guy's give me a hand?" They both say, "Sure!" Dodger hooks a finger in the waistband of my jeans, saying, "Lets go, Dylan."

With his finger in my pants he's literally pulling me to his pick up, Dodger then gives my ass a slap, saying, "Get your hot ass in the truck, Dylan." I get in thinking how Dodger's always been a confident hot shit. He gets in the driver's side, smirking at me, asking, "Miss me much?" I go, "Nah, not much," and he starts the pickup looking at me, muttering, "Liar." He backs out of the drive, with me asking, "Seriously, what's it like being home?" Dodger leaves a little tire squeal behind as he steps on the gas heading for route 9, saying, "Honestly? It's was a little surreal yesterday, but by this morning it's like I never left. The initial shock of being able to do what I want without getting permission was like a slap in the face, one that wakes you up. After that I adjusted to the real world pretty quickly." I ask, "How about Connor, how'd he react?" Dodger glances at me, "Connor? I love that kid, he's real, he's a golden child. Yeah, Connor's gold and I thought he was before, but I didn't really know for sure, ya know. I just knew he was a friend of yours. But I quickly discovered what a conscientious sweet kid he is, and I mean all the time. He's got one demeanor and it's constant, and there isn't a phony bone in his body. Plus, right off he helped me deal with the ridiculous authority figures involved in Army life. Everyone is an authority figure to us recruits. Initially I wasn't too keen about us recruits being considered lower than whale shit. Connor was a calming influence in more ways than one. He'd talk me down off the ledge, and at the same I time I felt this sense of responsibility in him. He's kinda naively innocent and he'd be the perfect foil for bullying. I wasn't gonna let that happen, and I didn't let it happen. So I had a motive not to go off and blow my top at the ridiculous clowns some of the sergeants are. Connor and I adapted pretty fast and soon we were accepting everything, all the bullshit they threw, as funny. We made fun of it between the two of us, not taking any of the nonsense personally, and we had some belly laughs about it too. If you have the right attitude and act obsequious to the numb nut drill sergeants, it's all cool. "Did ya get in many fights, Dodger?" He goes, "Just two. Both the first week and then that was it. Connor jumped in on both fights I was in. Oh, by the way, I only started the first fight. Connor jumps right into it and ya know, the fights probably were the reason the two of us bonded so quickly. It got so everyone in the barracks knew not to pull any shit on Connor or me because otherwise they'd need to deal with both of us. Mostly it was cool in our barracks though. Mostly fairly good guys and the asshole's stayed to themselves. There was zero problem after that first adjustment period." That makes me think of Chubby and me in middle school where, if you fucked with one of us, you fucked with both. Same deal Dodger and Connor worked out.

He pulls onto route nine, saying, "This isn't a fucking news flash, but some of those sergeants are stupid, and I mean, like duh. Half the guys in our barracks too, many didn't finish high school, like me. The difference is I'm not dumb, so that's where I had a huge advantage. Plus, my awesome personality too, ya know?" I go, "Um, no, I didn't know you had a good personality." He chuckles, muttering, "Fuck you." I ask, "You used to the induction haircut look yet?" He mutters, "Fuck no, but Vinnie wants you to do the head shave for him." I shrug, "Nah, I won't do it. Your head's not shaved anyway. They used a number 1 clipper blade. Shaved is the 00 blade. Hey, Vinnie came over for a haircut finally, did he tell you?" Dodger laughs, "Yeah, he told me about it. God, I almost peed my pants laughing about his sincere description of how it went. You're such a good guy to let him fuck you. He thought that's what he was supposed to do. You know, like I do." I say, "I felt bad for Vinnie, it's like he's lost without you. But, you know that thing's have changed since Robby proposed to me. Mostly random side-sex is a thing of the past now for us. Mostly." He looks over, rolling his eyes, but doesn't say anything. We're quiet for a minute, then to break the silence, I ask, "What were you and Conner laughing about when I asked how Vinnie was during last night's reunion?" Like it's nothing new, Dodger goes, "Oh, it was just the threesome we got into. All of us smoking, of course. Heh heh, Conner and me took turns fucking Vinnie for about ten minutes straight. It got really funny because Vinnie was so horny he kept cumming. Jesus! It was a real good night though. Nice time with my druggie crowds too, before we ditched them to have our threesome. Those asshole are a wild bunch." I go, "Connor and Vinnie fit in okay with the stoners?" He says, "Yeah, those drop outs wouldn't mess with my friends. We did some weed with them, but passed on the harder stuff. Ya know, I'm rethinking those guys. To be honest they didn't seem as cool to me as I remembered. They seemed, um, more like they're lost as in losers, than cool. I have a different perspective now, seeing life a little more seriously. We did some drinking with them too though, and then our private threesome. Oh shit, it was a good time last night!"

Dodger doesn't park at the curb below my condo, he goes around back. "How'd you remember how to get back here?" He gives me a questioning 'look', then goes, "Duh, dude, I was back here before. I've only been away eleven weeks, ya know." He parks with me staring at him, feeling some heat for his sexy body. He's slightly taller than me now, as I mentioned, and his body looks tighter than ever. He had a swimmer physique before the Army, but it's even hotter now. I guess it should be after six weeks of basic training and all the shit they put you through. He looks over seeing me staring at him, and grins a mischievous grin. I do a fake cough, then says, "Um, well, thanks, Dodger. For the ride home, I mean. I appreciate it... see you tonight, I guess." He chuckles, "Fuck appreciating it! I'm coming in. Ya got any beer?" I look up at the condo through the balcony's sliding glass door, not seeing any motion. Mom probably left for work. Looking back at Dodger, I go, "Sure, come on in, but I don't have any beer." We get out and go in through the back door to the finished basement. Dodger mutters, "Wish I needed a haircut. Those were some hot times!" I nod, "Uh huh," then ask, "Do you get a rush from your haircut fetish when getting the induction haircuts every week?" He shakes his head, "No, it's strange, but it doesn't affect me for some reason. I was thinking about that, looking forward to the haircuts, but nothing. I don't know why." I mutter, "Fetishes are unpredictable." He goes, "Ya think?" and he lights a cigarette. I yell, "Not inside, Dodger," and he says, "Hook up that fucking exhaust fan we used last time. You know, the last haircut I got here with Vinnie before I abruptly enlisted." I ask right out, "Why did you enlist?" He holds the filter of his cigarette towards me so I take a drag as he says, "That's what I'm going to tell you about his afternoon, plus something wicked important that you need to fucking know. That's why we need a fucking beer, you beautiful thing. How about Chubby, any beer in his place?" I'm still shocked he came right out and said he's gonna tell me the big mystery of why he enlisted, so I'm looking at him blankly. He snaps his fingers, and with a grin on his face, he says, "Hello, earth to Dylan, doe's your brother have any beer in his place?" I go, "Wha..? Um, yeah, probably. His mom usually has some on hand.' He squeezes my checks together with the hand holding his cigarette between his index and middle fingers. The smoke drifts up into my eyes, as he says, "The beer, dude." I've got that sexy squirmy feeling big time, so I do a fake cough, and he laughs saying, "Earth to major Tom, er Dylan, how about checking to see if there's a couple of beers up there. What's wrong with you today?"

Dodger pulls the barber stool over and sits on it, exhaling a long stream of cigarette smoke looking at me cutely. He's so fucking hot. I mutter, "Goddamn you, Dodger, there's no smoking inside," as I get the big fan out and point it out the back door, then opening the door a few inches. He smirks, "Turn the fucking thing on," and I do, then watch his exhaled smoke being sucked in by the fan. Dodger says, "Beer, we need a couple of beers, you awesome person!" I go, "Yeah, I'll check," and adjust my junk as I start up the steps. He jumps off the stool, "I'm going to take a piss. See if you can get at least two each," Everything he does is with lots of energy, he's fascinating to watch. Never dull or boring and always seemingly sure of himself. What a character! Up I go and in the living room I call, "Mom, you still here?" No answer so I look on the little kitchen cork board where we leave messages and there's a note from mom. 'Welcome home, darling! Seems like longer than a week you've been away. I got called in early to cover for someone who's ill. Looking forward to tomorrow's brunch. See if Robby and Dodger can come along with your sleep over guest. Is it Cory? Love, mom.' Sweet that she left me a note, but I'm sorry I didn't get home in time to see her. Up to Chubby's condo I go, letting myself in with the cleverly hidden extra key in the mailbox next to the front door. No burglar would ever think to look there. I get four bottles of Bud, leave an IOU for four bottles of beer, lock the front door, and head back down the steps trying to guess what Dodger's going to tell me.

Dodger's back on the stool, still smoking. I hand him a beer, he twist off the cap, "Ah, my favorite sexy friend, and he found some beers for us too... good." He takes a gulp of beer, looks at the bottle, and goes, "Ah ha, regular beer, nice. We drank lite beer every Sunday at the PX while playing liars poker. Same five guys every Sunday. Something we looked forward to all week. You know, you can get just as drunk on lite beer as regular beer. It just takes longer." I twist the cap off mine, asking, "Why'd you join the Army?" He says, "Before I tell you that, and the other more important thing, we're gonna drink a couple of beer's while you tell me what I've missed here around town. You know, from the time of my enlistment until now." I nod my head as Dodger looks at me with his mischievous grin, adding, "Oh, and then when we're reacquainted and feeling really comfortable with one another again, I'm going to fuck you." I go, "No, it's dif..." and he says, "Shut up about different. You and me go way back. Remember that first time? The time I shocked you by fucking you in the pool before you had a clue I was gay? Oh man, that was so fucking cool! Hot too! Ha ha. You tried to get away, but not real hard if I recall, and anyway you're no match for me in the water. When I pulled your bathing suit down and mounted you I would have loved to have seen the expression on your face! That's still among the top five most favorite sex acts I've ever done." I ask, "What are your other four?" He mumbles, "Too personal for now, Dylan, but I'll tell you some day. Now what's been happening around here?"

It's easier to just go along with Dodger. You might as well because he's gonna have his way in the end anyway, plus my dick quivered when he said he's going to fuck me and I don't want to ruin the mood for that. Be still my heart, and all that, but I sincerely didn't expect Dodger would want to have sex with me the first day he's back. Or any time in the next two weeks. I thought between him and Robby having a reunion-screw or two or three, and him and Vinnie fucking all over Framingham, he wouldn't have a chance to think of me. I was obviously wrong, so I sit back on the chaise lounge and begin telling what's been going on from the beginning of the summer. I tell him about all the personnel changes Robby had to make on the crew during the first month, and the ramifications of that. Then something about each new hire, as Dodger nods his head, but says nothing. He gets off the stool and comes over to lay next to me on the chaise lounge, both of us in a sitting position, our legs stretched out in front of us, our sides touching. We're in this sitting position so we can drink our beers. Soon we're both smoking too, with an ashtray between us. I talk on and on without looking at Dodger, staring straight ahead. He's not saying much, just a question every now and then. I work my way through all the whole posse boys stuff, the Sunday baseball games Robby played in, and Ray's bizarreness. The sex was inferred, but not elaborated on at all. My trip to New York city interested him, and as I went on and on I ended telling him much more than I intended to. He goes, "Ballsy trip you crazy and wild dude."

All four beers are gone by the time I finish telling him whatever came to mind, finally basically just running out of words. Dodger's absently running his fingers through my hair for a few minutes, then he says, "You didn't tell me about this fucked-up haircut," so I say, "Well, it just happened a couple of days ago. Ryan, the kid we lift weights with, and who got his brains scrambled last summer," and I tell him about the haircut screw up. Dodger nods his head, takes a deep breath, then says, "Thanks, Dylan. Shit, I missed a lot and you left out most of the sexy stuff too. It'd just make me jealous anyway, but you've been a busy guy, huh? So you and Robby are cutting down side-sex? Good luck with that. Guess it'll help that I'm not gonna be around. That will help both of you." Lifting off the back rest, Dodger partially faces me, reaching down to take hold of the bottom of my sweatshirt with both hands, mumbling, "Put your arms up," and when I do he pulls the sweatshirt over my head, and goes, "Wow, that's cool, Dylan!" meaning the nip ring. I go, "Yeah, I told you about that." He flicks it, muttering, "Yeah, but seeing it in person, it's awesomely sexy. You're so fucking cool, and you always have been the coolest fucking guy in Framingham, or maybe anywhere." I make a face at him, like, 'Get real!'

Ignoring that, he gropes my crotch while staring into my eyes. It's almost like he's daring me to object. When he sees I'm not objecting, he unsnaps my jeans, muttering, "Get these off, will ya?" Dodger just assumes he's going to fuck me, and more than that he knows I want him to too. He's always known, but I've never known how he knows. Maybe I'll ask him some time. He lights a cigarette and holds it between his teeth as he slides his hand along my bare stomach, and then under the waistband of my underwear. Jockey shorts today, I switch off for no special reason, sometimes wearing boxer shorts, sometimes jockey shorts. Whatever's clean usually decides what I put on. He takes my cock in his fist, blows three smoke rings that circle my head, then he says, "I knew your awesome cock would be hard." My eyes open wide... I've got a boner? Because it happened so gradually I didn't even realize I was hard, but that's not accurate either. I've been feeling good down there for a while now. It's Dodger's scent and the confident, offhand way he does everything. It's much different than Robby's manner, although Dodger's scent is like Robby's, but with a twist. I can't describe the twist, can't verbalize it. It's something, but I don't know what. He puts his now wet filtered cigarette between my lips and, leaning sideways, he gets his other

hand inside the waistband at the back, and his hand slides under my butt cheek. He looks at me, leans forward and licks across my lips, then kisses my lips while squeezing my bare buttocks getting my cock harder. He strokes the foreskin on and off the head of my boner, muttering, "Would you light me a cigarette, Dylan." He asked that in his boyish voice that sounds like Robby's, only it sounds more like a command that a request when Dodger says anything. He grins at me and leans over to suck on the side of my lips, the side away from the cigarette hanging out the corner of my mouth, the smoke drifting up and burning my eyes. Pulling his head away, he looks seriously at me, like he's memorizing how I look, all the time stroking my cock and now from his other hand the tip of a finger is inside the lips of my ass, as he says again, "Cigarette, Dylan, please?" I inhale off his old one and pick up his pack that's between us to take one out. He grins at me, raising his eyebrows, as he pushes his finger two more inches up my ass. I moan lifting my ass off the sofa, "Oooh, Dodger." He goes, "Cigarette, please." I nod my head trying to get a cigarette out of the pack, as he asks me, "You do remember Vinnie and I like to smoke during sex, right?" I nod my head as his finger goes the rest of the way up my ass, "Mmmm, oooh, Dodger, um, um." I pull a cigarette out of the pack and light it off the one between my teeth, grunting and squirming on the couch or chaise lounge, or sofa, or whatever the fuck it's called. My brain's getting rattled, but in a nice sexy way.

Dodger smiles at me around the cigarette between his sexy lips, asking, "Feel good, does it? Nobody is as hot as you, Dylan, nobody! You get me cranked-up like no one I've ever known." He drags on his cigarette exhaling through his nose and mouth while slowly finger fucking and jerking me off at the same time. He goes, "There are like a thousand recruits at basic training and sometimes our platoon would be marching and have to halt while long columns would marched in front of us. I'd look at every face and not one, not a single one ever came close to the cuteness, the beauty of your face. That's something, huh? I knew no one would be as cute and sexy as you, but I checked for the hell of it. Heh heh, there were some cute guys though." I squirm against him, and moan, "Uh huh, oooh, ooh." He pulls his finger out of my ass, then pushes it right back up my ass grinning at me as he exhales a long stream of smoke. Then he chuckles, and says, "I'm giving up cigarettes when I get out of the Army. How about you?" My hips hump up and a spurt of cum, or maybe precum, plops out from my boner onto the front of jockey shorts as my shoulders shudder, and I moan, "Ummmm, oooh, god, mmm." His finger comes out of my ass, and he holds it away from his nose using two clean fingers to take his cigarette from his lips, and says, "You're especially horny, huh, Dylan? Why's that?" Pulling my cigarette from my lips and holding it away from us, I take a deep breath, than mutter, "It's that I've cut back on side-sex, like I told ya, and lets face it, Dodger, you've always been a big turn on for me." He nods his head, "Yeah, I know," and his cigarette tasting tongue slides against my cigarette tasting tongue canceling out the unpleasant taste for both of us. It wouldn't work if only one of us was smoking. His lips caress mine in an especially sexy manner as our noses rub together. Everything he does seems different than I remember from before. Holding the finger that was up my ass out and away from the others, he rubs his clean fingers up the back of my head as he leans over, partially laying on me rubbing his chest against mine. His silky t-shirt feels cool against my bare skin as smoke from his cigarette burns my eyes. His hand pulls off my hard boner and drags wetly up my stomach, leaving a precum trail behind on it's way up to my nipple where he gently rubs my nip ring getting my nipple vibrating and hard, feeling sexy. I can hardly breath with Dodger's face against mine, his tongue in my mouth, and his torso moving on mine. Oh, oh, but this feels great, the hell with breathing. My arm is around his neck, my other arm away from us holding what's left of his first cigarette. That hand I hold out away from the chaise lounge, with me trying to inhale Dodger's scent through the cigarette smoke that's drifting around us. I squirm under him feeing wonderful and awesomely sexually stimulated. The recent absence of that sensation making it all the hotter now.

Dodger slides the side of his face next to the side of mine, as he quietly moans in sexual arousal and desire, "Oooh, mmm." He takes my cigarette butt from my fingers, and breathlessly mutters in my ear, "Put my cock in your mouth, Dylan, please. Take pity on a needy American soldier." He's pushing down behind my head guiding it towards his cock. Without resisting, I rustle down the sofa towards his crotch while Dodger crushes the two cigarette butts in the ashtray. Pulling his fly down and then unbuttoning his khaki pants, I hear him light another cigarette. While exhaling, he says, "Take 'em all the way off. My underwear too." A puff of exhaled smoke drifts down as I struggle to get his pants off over his sneakers, then his boxer shorts. And now I gawk at his semi-hard cock looking exactly like Robby's. Fat like a fire plug with a nice, especially fat helmet head that's wet. Leaning down I take it in my mouth and Dodger sighs, then lays back bringing his legs up, his knees in the air. I massage his big nuts gently as I suck on his cock feeling my cock tightening up even further, and then it moves away from my belly to stick straight out tight and feeling oh so good. Dodger's scent is strong in his crotch area, especially with my nose buried in the dark pubic hairs above his cock. My hands rub his belly feeling the six pack abs he's developed. Hard tight sexy body, lean and tall now. When a long drool of precum covers my tongue with Dodger groaning and squirming on the sofa, I take his fat boner our of my mouth, suck off the precum, then lick his nuts. Lifting his nuts with my fingers, Dodger brings his ass up off the sofa, and my tongue runs up the ass crack between his pink, almost hairless butt cheeks. I squeeze both butt cheeks, and wow, they're firm and nicely shaped so I lick both of them, then give them sloppy kisses. A real hot ass on Dodger to go with everything else that's sexy and hot about him. And then a nice surprise as I notice Dodger's come a long way with his asshole hygiene. There's no acrid taste of shit remnants. Nice going, Dodger, you're growing up.

After rimming his ass for only about a minutes Dodger lifts his legs and rolls to the side gasping, then sputtering, "Jesus, Dylan, I almost blew my load. God almighty, that's sexy!" He chuckles, muttering, "That was fucking awesome." He rolls on his back again holding his wet cigarette filter towards me, saying, "Finish this fucking thing for me, okay?" I take it needing a drag by now. Dodger lights another one, then says, "Fun, huh? Okay, get up here and sit on my cock so I can look at you while I'm fucking you, you beautiful college student." I walk up on my knees, past his long legs, a knee on either side of his legs, and when my ass is over his hard cock. I look back and see it's sticking straight up from his belly drooling precum, like mine. I blow a long exhale of smoke at Dodger's head. He grins, pretending to inhale it, and he actually does get some in his lungs to exhale through his nose. He grins, asking, "What are you waiting for?" I reach behind me and get his boner between two fingers guiding it under my asshole, and then slowly sit on it. It spreads my anus's lips, and I groan, "Aaaah, ow," as Dodger's face scrunches up a little, with him muttering, "Easy." Sitting down a little more and the fat head forces it's way past my sphincter with me grunting at the pain, and then there's a shiver's going up my back as my shoulders shudder nicely. Dodger licks his lips, takes a drag off his cigarette, and as he exhales the smoke he humps his hips up forcing his cock two inches up my ass and I groan louder, leaning forwards, than awkwardly sit the rest of the way down on it, not meaning to. A spike of pain in my rectum makes me jerk up pulling partially off his cock. Dodger goes, "Take it easy, Dylan, let your ass get used to it," as if I'm new at this. We both take a drag, then I blurt out a laugh, mumbling, "I've done this before." He laughs, then quietly sarcastically says, "Don't be scared, I'll be gentle with you," and I plop down on his thighs, muttering, "Oh, thank you, you're so kind."

Already this feels so good I get more shivers, sexy shivers, and another little shoulder shudder, so I say, "Feels real good, Dodger. Awesome cock," and he says, "Oh, that little thing." He's never been the least bit self conscious about having a four inch cock while Robby's said from time to time he wished he had a bigger one. Not Dodger, he's proud of his cock. Exhaling smoke, then passing his secondhand one to me again, he takes the first secondhand cigarette from between my lips, as he mutters, "Finish this other cigarette for me now." I take a drag, asking, "What the fuck's with these secondhand cigarettes?" He goes, "Hey, I got third-hand pickup trucks passed down to me, didn't I?" as if that explains the secondhand cigarettes. He makes me laugh at the way he says things like he's serious when he knows very well he's talking nonsense. I grin, mumbling, "Oh, that explains it then." I lift off his boner slowly and sit back down on it, shivering at the sensations in my rectum as my boner, about as hard as it can get, barely moves sticking straight out of me as I go up and down on his hard fat cock a half dozen times, "Mmmm, oooh, damn," grunts Dodger. I lean forward with a hand on either side of his shoulders and Dodger begins humping his hips up, fucking my ass. Right away all the familiar sexual vibrations and sensations from my anus and prostate have me clenching my mouth shut while moaning sounds of sexual pleasure escape from my throats. "Mmmm, uuuum, ooh, ooh, ooh ,ooh, ahh, Dodger, aah, aah, aah." Quiet slapping sounds of male fucking do a duet with my short moans at every penetration, "Slap, slap, slap, slap," goes Dodgers groin smacking hard against my ass as his face turns red from the effort of driving his hard organ inside my rectum.

My head drops to his chest, my forehead sliding on his breastbone with each hump of his hips as I drop the secondhand cigarette in the bouncing ashtray next to Dodger. Dodger groans, "Ooooh, fuccck, um, um, um," as "Slap, slap, slap," sounds quicken and now my head's a confusing blur of sexual sensations clogging my brain, everything combining into a crescendo of intense pleasure bordering on pain, my body's stiff and tingling all over. Our grunts and moans of pleasure with the constant, "slap, slap, slap, slapping," sounds until I'm dizzy with sexual pleasure and barely know where I am, but not caring. And then it's all over me... a split second of silence before a piercing squeal, "Eeeee, eeee!" and my violent hip thrust produces cum that's pumped out from the steel pipe attached at my groin. The first shot of cum splatters under Dodger's chin, on his throat mostly, followed by three streaks of cum that are lighter than the first and able to shoot a little higher hitting under Dodger's nose and finally a stream hits him right on his lips. His heads moving from side to side on the chaise lounge as his crotch humps his boner up my ass and then Dodger lets out a desperate sounding moan, "Ummm, oooh, aaah!" and his body gets stiff as a board and I feel something like a pencil poke the walls of my bowels as his hard stream of cum creates a warm, wet feeling inside me. Cum drools out my ass as he pumps more in with both his forearm pressing down at the back of my neck squishing my face to his chest, making sure I don't go anywhere I guess. "Slap, slap, slap, slap," wet slapping sounds now and it's a fantastic ride, one that's

way too short, but such a nice feeling now as swirling sensations caress and tease the sensitive points in my body before bidding ado and leaving me with a glowing, relaxed, limp body. Dodger's thrusting slows down as he relaxes his hold on me and then drops his ass flat on the lounge, his now flaccid cock pulling from my ass as I do a quiet "Oooh, mmm, ooh."

Pushing my legs out behind me I lay stretched out on Dodger's body, chest to chest. One of Dodger's arm lays across my back. He's breathing deeply, his other arm out to the side, the cigarette between his fingers with the inch long gray ash threatening to drop to the carpet below. It's nice laying on Dodger's body, but I wish he'd taken his silky t-shirt off so we'd be flesh to flesh from head to toe. His limp cock is squished between us wet and sticky, as is mine. A minute of deep breathing, then Dodger rubs my hair, muttering, "Get up, Dylan, okay? Let's talk."

to be continued... Donny Mumford 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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