DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR
Chapter 26
by Donny Mumford
Following our hot afternoon sex, Robby and I are taking a shower together. We're acting silly actually, messing around with hot water pouring down on us as we snap each other's ass with wet washcloths. It's fun acting like goofy teenagers, but we've not teens and we eventually remember that fact and
get ourselves under control. After shampooing and washing we take turns kneeling down and shaving each other's pubic stubble. I'm doing Robby's as he's saying, "We need to be more conscientious about doing this on a regular schedule. I'll make it my job to remember every four or five days, okay?" I look up at him with water bouncing off my face, saying, "Yeah, sure, but what do you think about trying one of those hair depilatories instead of shaving?" He asks, "What's that?" I say, "You know, like 'Nair'. It dissolves hair a little below the surface somehow, and when the hairs grow out they're not as scratchy." He goes, "Like woman use on their legs?" Nodding my head, "Yeah, it works for them." Robby shrugs, "Okay, we'll try it. It's your idea so you buy it, wherever they sell stuff like that, and have it ready for us when we need it. I'm putting you in charge of that." Oh man, that's becoming second nature to Robby. Giving me orders, and it can makes my dick hard at times too. Crazy, I know, but there it is. Robby's become so awesomely in charge, I say, "Sure thing, Rob," and finish carefully shaving his pubes. Standing up I put the razor on a shelf next to the shampoo and get my arms around his neck, then kiss his lips. He grabs my butt cheeks with both hands pulling our crotches together, as I say, "You're my man, Rob. I think you're the hottest guy I've ever known." He smiles chuckling, "That's so nice of you to say, Dylan." We kiss as Robby wraps me in his arms and I meld into him. Then, "Slap!' on my ass with his wet bare hand and, after another quiet chuckle from Robby, he goes, "That's enough brown-nosing, baby, get us a couple of towels so we can dry off."
He turns off the water and I step out to grab a clean towel, handing it to Robby. A muttered, "Thanks, babe," then he says, "I probably should think about having, um, a date or something with Ryan, don't ya think? At least spend some one-on-one time with him in honor of our threesome. Whaddaya think?" Oh fuck, a wave of jealousy swarms over me making my face turn red as I stutter, "Um, ah, I don't know, Rob. Um, he's hangin' out with his roommate and that guy, Rex, quite a bit, so..." Robby's drying his balls, mumbling, "Fine. I'll at least offer, you know, so he can't say I'm ignoring him." Then he grins at me, saying, "I gotta keep my twin boyfriends happy, don't I? You two have been getting along great and I want to keep that going." I mutter, "Oh, yeah, I guess," and we walk into our bedroom to get dressed. I ask, "Before you get dressed do you want me to rim you, Rob? Does Ryan do that?" Robby chuckles, "Lets not talk about what Ryan does, and you and me just had sex twenty minutes ago, so I'm good for now. Later tonight in bed though, I'll hold you to that offer, okay?" He squeezes my shoulder, asking, "Everything cool?" Still smarting from the thought of Robby with Ryan going on a date, I fake a smile, "Yep, everything's good," and lean against him wrapping my arms around him. He peels my arms away, mumbling, "Okay, I know you love me already... lets see what Chubby's up to. Maybe he needs our help with dinner." I look into his eyes puckering my lips, and he goes, "What the fuck, babe? Finish getting dressed, now!" After kissing his lips quickly, "Okay, Rob," and I pull on a t-shirt to go with the sweatpants I'm wearing. I love these miracle fabrics, it feels like I'm wearing pajamas. Oh man though, I really love when Robby innocently takes charge. It's like he doesn't even think about it anymore, or even realize that's what he's doing. Perfect!
In the kitchen Chubby's just finished making the meatballs. He looks over grinning, "Ah, my roommates honor me with their presence at last." I've got my arm across Robby's shoulders leaning into him, grinning back at Chubby. Then I remember he came directly from being with Judy, doing God only knows what, so I mumble, "I hope you washed your hands before kneading those meatballs." He goes, "Oh yeah, bro, my hands were sanitized and then dipped in
boiling water for twenty minutes before I touched the meatball mixture. Since I made them, you fry them, brother, and I'll start making the spaghetti sauce." I'm like, "It's called gravy by the Italian guys on the Sopranos." Robby asks, "What can I do?" and Chubby says, "A salad, Robby, and oh yeah, see if we have any more of that frozen garlic bread in the freezer. I guess it's just gonna be the three of us for dinner tonight, right?" Robby's looking in the freezer, mumbling, "Um, yeah, Chub, just the roommates tonight," and Chubby asks, "Where's your threesome twin, Dylan?" I shrug, "I don't know, he went off with that Rex guy, Marty's friend." He's like, "Who's Marty?" Robby says, "Ryan's roommate. He's not a bad kid." Chubby's like, "Oh yeah, that's right, I know who ya mean," and he pours some crushed Italian plum tomatoes into a pot he's been sautéing onions, carrots, celery, and garlic in. The mierepoix was sautéing in olive oil. He says, "It used to be when Ryan was on his own he'd be like a lost lamb, and then Dylan would take him under his wing. Ah, so cute." I mutter, "You just mixed metaphors there, bro." He chuckles, "Yeah, badly too, heh heh." I go, "Ryan's determined to make friends with his roommate and Rex, nothing wrong with that."
Robby's found frozen bread from the freezer by now, and asks, "What do I do with the Italian bread?" Chubby turns his head looking at Robby, asking, "Is that the Italian garlic bread or plain Italian bread? I think we have both kinds in there." Robby reads the label, "Yeah, it says right here on the wrapper it's traditional Italian garlic bread. Oh, it also says we're suppose to preheat the oven and bake for fifteen minutes. Is that right?" Chubby and I stare at him for a few seconds, he looks up, asking, "What?" and Chubby says, "Yeah, um, instructions on a package give a clue what to do, in this case with the frozen bread." Robby feels we're making fun of him, and goes, "Okay, fer chrissakes! I'm not a professional chef like you two." Neither Chubby or I mentions it doesn't require a professional anything to follow the simple instructions on the package. Robby's fiddling around with the controls on the oven, then he gets exasperated, "I think this fucking thing is broken." I go over and squeeze the back of his neck and give him a hug, then push the three preheat buttons that need to be pushed, one after the other, "Now it's preheating, Rob. When the thing beeps it's reached proper temperature. The one we just preset at 350 degrees." Robby grins, "Yeah, you're good with the oven, cutie, but I had a double and a home run today." Chubby's like, "Yeah, really? A double and a home run?" and we talk about the baseball game for awhile, pumping Robby's self esteem back up.
Chubby's seasoning the spaghetti sauce, or gravy as it's called by some, and while he's doing that he has some words of wisdom for us. "In today's world, gentlemen, we have the means to effectively prevent sexually transmitted diseases." Robby and I exchange smirks behind Chubby's back, with Robby muttering, "Oops," because we never use a condom. We grin at each other as Chubby says, "It's the clever little item called a condom that I'm referring to, although some older and cruder people refer to them as rubbers. Way back in the day they must have been made of rubber. Although they're very reliable they do not totally guarantee safe sex in every case. For instance, I read online about this dude who was dutifully wearing a condom while having sex with a woman when he was shot dead by the woman's husband. So keep that in mind, condoms can't prevent everything." I chuckle as Chubby gives me a grin, then he goes, "Since I'm spreading some good advice around, let me add this little nugget. If you help a friend when they're in trouble, you can be damn sure they'll remember you the next time they're in trouble." He looks back at us, asking, "Shouldn't you guys be taking notes, or recording what I'm saying, or some-fucking-thing?" I tap my head with my forefinger, "I've got a memory like a steel trap, bro," and Robby goes, "Yeah, and if I forget some of your awesome advice I'll ask Dylan." Chubby nods his head, then says, "Hmmm, remember this too: many wise-asses are alive today solely because it's still illegal to kill them. That's another piece of wisdom I'll share with you numbnut's." I ask, "Have you been drinking again, Chub?" He goes, "Why yes I have. Just a few gin and tonics this afternoon with my girlfriend and her girlfriend. Hey, you're burning the meatballs, bro!" I
chuckle, give him a kiss on the side of his forehead and move the meatballs around in the frying pan, muttering, "I'm pretty fucking sure I know how to cook meatballs."
The dinner's delicious and so is the friendly ball breaking banter and bullshit stories we tell back and forth across the table, and it's some funny stuff too so a real good time at dinner. After dinner the three of us clean up the kitchen, then drive on campus planning to watch Merrimack's men's ice hockey team, known as the 'Warriors'. They're playing against Boston College tonight. I'm not sure what the BC team is known as, unless it's the BC 'Eagles'. Yeah, that sounds right. Our college hockey program is an NCAA Division 1 program and our team's pretty good. Here at Merrimack ice hockey is played in the J. Thom Lawler arena with a capacity of three thousand, and it's mostly sold out every game. Chubby got the tickets from his bud, John Beverly, the other night. I don't know why John couldn't use them. Mister Lawler, whoever he is, must have made a hefty donation to the college to get himself on the name of the arena. Anyway, as soon as we walk into the arena it's obvious it's loud and cold in here, duh, all that ice. We all have sweatshirts on, but if I come to another hockey game I'm bringing gloves and earmuffs. Our seats are down close to the ice, so we've got some damn good seats. As it turns out a hockey crowd is a little rowdier than some other sporting events, which surprises me since there no tailgating like before football games when everyone can tie a load on before even going into the stadium.
We're waiting for the thing to start. As I mentioned the arena is packed and loud, but there are two empty seats next to me. Just before the puck drops the empty seats are taken by Travis Hunter and his roommate, crazy Harry Black. I think Travis is in the 'closet' sexuality-wise because he's come on to me a number of times last year and once already this year. Nothing overt, but it's obvious enough that I've noticed it for what it is. My strategy is to act oblivious to his come-on's and it's worked so far. He's nice looking and a good guy, but I'm eliminating most of my side sex, so ya know. It's funny too because Travis went to the same high school as Chubby, Robby, and me, although we hardly knew him back then. He's in the seat right next to me with Robby on my left and Chubby on his left. Travis grins at me, then takes hold of my bicep, leaning too close to me, saying,"Yo, Dylan, what a coincidence, huh, us sitting together like this" I go, "Yeah, it's like kismet or something." He ruffles my hair, saying, "You're looking cool as usual, dude." I'm like, "Yeah, hey, Travis, thanks," then I lean across him to poke Harry's arm, "Whassup, Harry?" He goes, "Dylan, dude, I'm drunk, that's whassup." He does a long burp, frowning like he's surprised he burped. Travis says, in a manner like it's something to brag about, "Harry's trying to break last year's record for days in a row that he gets falling down drunk. Counting last weekend it's nine days in a row so far, and he's only thrown up a few times." I go, "Oh my God, way to go, Harry! Excellent way to take advantage of your college days, dude." He nods his head and reaches over to bump fists, mumbling, "Yeah, I know, thanks, Dylan." Jesus, what a loser. Trying to make conversation, Travis asks, "Do you get to many hockey games, Dylan? I can get us tickets to future games," and I'm like, "Um, no. This is my first one, somebody gave Jeff tickets, so what the hell, we wanted to see what it's all about." Not wanting to lead him on, I ignore his offer of future free tickets.
The puck's dropped by the ref and the slapping of sticks begins. Wow, and these guys can really skate too! Someone from the stands yells, "That's icing, ref!" which I wouldn't be able to comment on because I don't know the rules for ice hockey. It didn't look to me like anything out of the ordinary happened. As they skate on there's lots of comments from the fans who do know the game, like the sarcastic, "Nice hook, asshole! Open your eyes every once in awhile, ref!" Travis explains to me that one of the BC's players hooked our guy with his stick which is suppose to be a penalty. As they skate up and down the ice it becomes pretty obvious there isn't going to be a lot of scoring, but unlike soccer in that regard, the skating is so fast and then they stop on a dime and change directions. Not an easy trick I shouldn't think what with being on two blades, one under each skate, and on ice to boot. That's impressive as compared to running up and down the field in soccer. Robby leans over and yells, "It's hard to follow the puck, they should make it glow or something, ya know?" I nod my head as our team score a goal and all the students stand up yelling 'Sieve, sieve!' meaning, I guess, the other team's goalie is like a sieve. It's pretty funny actually. College students aren't known for their good sportsmanship. The first period ends with Merrimack up one to nothing. I think in soccer they'd say one-nil. Guess it's an English thing. Like I said, it's loud in here but Harry's managed to fall asleep somehow. His head's on Travis' shoulder and Travis has his arm around him. Hmmmm? I glance at Travis and he shrugs like, whaddya gonna do?
When they're almost through the second period someone, who's apparently unhappy with the refereeing, yells, "Hey ref, are you pregnant, you've missed the last two periods!" Boston College scores two more times and someone yells, "Yo, Davidson! You're mom called, she says YOU SUCK!" Travis explains, "Davidson's our goalie," and I go, "Huh! That's a little harsh." They don't
serve beers here obviously so Chubby leans across Robby, and says, "Bro, we're hitting Tracy's after this ice hockey thing." I go, "Cool!" especially because we have no classes tomorrow. Wednesday is sure to be our favorite weekday all semester. We leave before the end of the third period to beat the crowd, and we don't know what's going on anyway. Travis asks, "Where you going, Dylan?" I say, "Tracy's place," he's like, "I'll see you there." Oh goodie. Quite a few of the crowd are leaving along with us, maybe because Merrimack's down three to one and in ice hockey with ten minutes left it's highly unlikely Merrimack's going to overcome that deficit. So they lose, big deal. It was kind of a cool experience, ha ha, no pun intended. It'd be better if I knew more about the rules obviously. Chubby says, "You drive, Dylan, I want to text a girl in my Admin class." Walking to the Jeep I rub Robby's back, "How ya doing, boyfriend?" He grins at me and puts his arm around my waist to give me a hug, then says, "Don't get hammered tonight, okay?" I yes, "Yes, daddy," and get another hug. It's less than ten minutes to Tracy's place. When I'm driving down his side street we can see the lights are on for the outside deck where most of the drinking takes place, but there's no music yet tonight. Tracy doesn't have his speakeasy open every night so it's hit or miss with that. It's on tonight though.
I park a block away and we walk back down the block with Chubby asking, "You guys ever wonder why it is people from Poland are called 'Poles', but people from Holland aren't called 'Holes'?" I go, "Why no, Chub, I never wondered that." He squeezes my hand, grinning, "How 'bout this: piano players are 'Pianist' so why aren't race car drivers called 'Racists'?" I say, "There's another thing I've never wondered about. That's two in a row." Robby says, "Maybe you spend a little too much time thinking about stuff like that, Chubby?" Chubby goes, "A little too much? That's an oxymoron, isn't it?" Going up the steps, Chubby's laughing, asking, "And not to be 'that guy', but why doesn't Tarzan have a beard? That's kind of puzzling." Robby and I roll our eyes, but it is kind of funny. At the top of the steps Tracy greets us all with a one arm hug and pat on the chest, saying, "Dudes, great to see ya. Where ya been? I haven't seen enough of you this year. Oh, new rule, ya gotta buy tokens to use for buying beer. This way it's like I'm not selling the booze for money. You know, without a liquor license." I go, "I'm not real sure that'll hold up in court, Tracy, but give me ten bucks worth of those tokens." Chubby says, "Me too," and then he goes, "Tracy, maybe you can help me out with something that's been bothering me." Tracy's like, "What's that, Jeff?" And Chubby says, "If us humans evolved from apes, why the fuck are the apes still here?" Tracy hands Chubby the tokens, mumbling, "Who the fuck cares, Jeff?" then, "How 'bout you Rob?" Robby gets ten dollars worth too as Chubby asks me, "How come you guys don't have any answers for me tonight?" I pat his back, saying, "Think about this, bro: Has there ever been a day when mattresses aren't on sale?" He laughs, muttering, "Good one, bro..."
As we're all using two of our tokens to buy bottles of Bud, Chubby asks the girl collecting the tokens, "Are you Tracy's girlfriend?" He says, "On and
off, why?" and Chubby's like, "Maybe you can answer a question that's been on my mind." She frowns, "About Tracy?" Chub goes, "No no, not about Tracy. I wanna know what the hell happened to the preparations between 'A' and 'G'?" The girl says, "Like what the fuck are you talking about, dude, you drunk already?" Chubby goes, "No, not at all. Maybe you have an opinion about this. Ya know that moms in American feed their babies baby food with tiny spoons, right?" She shrugs muttering, "Whatever," and Chubby says, "Yeah, so do you suppose Chinese moms use tiny chopsticks to feed their babies the baby Chinese food?" She waves dismissively at Chubby, saying, "Your holding up the line," and serves beer to the two girls behind us. One of the girls says to Chubby, "I'd be happy to feed you with a tiny spoon, Jeffrey." he goes to say something, but I'm like, "Give it a rest, Chub, please." Chubby smirks at me, and says to the girl, "Shoot me a text, Linda, we can work something out," and we walk over to the railing with Chubby chuckling. He's always upbeat, and how the hell he knows so many girls is beyond me. We light cigarettes as I'm glancing over to see Robby's talking to yet another teammate. They're laughing about something, then Chubby says to me, "These are questions that buzz around in my head, bro. Mostly during class, unfortunately." I ask, "It'd be a good contest to see who takes college more seriously, you or Harry Black." Chub mumbles, "You and me will compare our GPA's at semester's end, bro. I'm just having a little fun in between the studying. Anyway, FYI, Robby's leading you away from the free spirited attitude I taught you during all those informative years while we were growing up. If you don't watch out you'll end up all serious like him." I go, "That's just so wrong on so many levels I wouldn't even know where to start." Chubby rubs my head, mumbling, "Think about it. Love ya, bro."
We drink and smoke and then music starts blaring from the speakers. Chubby goes, "Ah, it's Stephen Kellogg and the Sixers with their oldie hit, 'I Don't Wanna Get Old'." Someone with a brain in their head turns the music down
so it doesn't offend the neighbors. Chubby says, "I don't ever want to get
old... that used to be our mantra, bro," and I say, "It still is, Chubby. Are you serious about me becoming too serious?" He says, "I don't know, but it's like lately you've been letting Robby run your life." Then the girl that said she'd feed Chubby with a tiny spoon joins us with her girlfriend. Chubby and the girls talk about the class they're in together as I wonder if Chubby's right about me being too serious and letting Robby run my life. Chubby could just be jealous though. Could it be he's jealous that I'm really happy the way things are going between Robby and me, especially lately? He's perceiving it differently than me obviously and I wonder how Robby's perceiving it? We all perceive the exact same reality differently sometimes, maybe all the time. I'm happy the way things are presently, except I don't like it that Chubby doesn't seem to be on my side. It used to be whatever made me happy made him happy, but it appears now he isn't real happy about what I'm happy about. Jesus! that's a lot of 'happys' in one thought. Hmmm, I have to wonder though, could Chubby be jealous of Robby for real? It's something I'd never think of in a million years if he hadn't just said what he did about Robby running my life. Why can't anything be simple?
Then I spot a young guy I've never seen before. Whoa, he's sexy even though he's not especially cute. And that fucking haircut he's got! It's a style that's gaining momentum. I first noticed it on Julian Endelman who's on the
Patriot football team. He's a slot receiver, but he does more than that. Anyway, like Julian, this kid has light brown hair that's very long on top but the sides and all the way up the back of his head are almost shaved. It looks like a home haircut that a farmer in the 1930's might have. Julian probably paid a hundred bucks for his farmer's haircut at some fancy men's salon. Hell, he could have done it himself with those home haircut kits sold at Rite Aid. I mean, there's absolutely no tapering or fading of one length to the other. This hair style, as bizarre as it is, I'm beginning to notice being worm by so-called celebrities in magazines too. Anything to be different I guess, and I'll bet it catches on big time because it's so noticeable. Look at me! Look at me! That kinda shit. Fuck, it's almost like the haircut I invented and was doing for the posse boys last summer except mine had tapering, so it wasn't a blunt change from real short to real long hair. The kid I'm looking at is talking with two other guys who I'd guess are freshman. A long strand of hair in front is hanging across the sexy kid's pug nose, and he's got those sexy sleepy bedroom eyes too. His posture and the way he hold the bottle of beer backwards with his thumb and forefinger is awesomely and casually cool. It looks like he's got a constant smirk on his face as well. He's sexy with a hot body and a hoop earring in each earlobe. Tight skinny jeans and a hoodie sweatshirt. Oh fuck, he just put the hood up outlining his face. Now he looks cute! Wow, I love that look on young guys. Someone must have said something funny making the sexy kid grin, and he's got double dimples on each side of his lips. Damn, he's cool! I'm staring at him, adjusting my junk while chugging some beer when Robby asks, "What' cha looking at, Dylan?" "Huh, what? Um, oh just staring into space. Who were you talking to?" He looks over at the teammate he was talking with, then back at me, "Just a guy on the team. He asked me if I thought he'd make the cut. I don't think he will because the poor bastard can't hit worth a shit, but I didn't tell him that. I said it's hard to predict because there's a lot of guys trying out for the team this year and not everyone can make it. Kinda preparing him for the worst."
We hear a commotion like someone falling down steps, then Travis appears at the top of the steps helping Harry walk. We're staring incredulously at them as we hear Tracy yelling, "No way, Black, you're already drunk, I'm not serving you anything," and there's a heated discussion about that. Chubby, Robby and I exchange 'looks' and then move to the other side of the deck so we don't get pulled into that argument. Chubby slaps hands with a kid I don't know telling him something as I ask Robby, "Do you think we're taking life too seriously, Rob?" He pinches my cheek chuckling, then says, "No I don't, cutie. I've finally gotten to the point where I can be a leader for you, plus we're now engaged and we have some definite plans for our life together. We have fun too, don't get me wrong, but maybe we're more mature about everything than some of our friends. That's no knock on them, to each their own, ya know. As for us two... you expect me to take charge and I take that responsibility to heart." He cups behind my neck with a hand, looking me in the eyes, "You and me aren't like everybody else, are we? We have something special together and it's developed from the way we've shaped our relationship for over three years now, with you initiating most of the 'shaping' I might add. That's mostly what's got us here at this good place in our lives. When I was ready to take over for us I did it and it's going to be like that from now on." I'm mesmerized by this new found level of confidence in Robby, there's no hesitation in his speech, he's committed and very sure of himself. He goes, "I've accepted and relish the responsibility of making the right choices in our lives and all you need to do, baby, is keep doing what you're been doing, especially since we've returned to college. You've been fantastic!" I nod my head feeling like I'm in a trance again staring at this new Robby, and I guess he's right that I've been wanting it this way for a couple of years, and definitely since I broke up with Willie the first time. It's been an up and down relationship, but Robby's right to say we've gotten to the place we are because of a joint effort. And now it's such a pleasurable situation for me. Robby's competent in everything, pretty much. A lot went into Robby's new found confidence too, not the least of which was last semester's threesome with Ryan, and then Robby being our crew's boss all summer. I should be feeling carefree because Robby will take care of whatever needs to be taken care of, and while I love feeling like this there still something niggling about it at the back of my mind that I can't quite get a fix on. I mumble, "So I just keep doing what I'm told, right?" He hugs me, "I guess you could put it that way if you want to, but for the most part it's more like we both need to agree on things, right?" Whatever, all I know at this moment is I've got a hard-on in my jockey shorts from just listening to my confident boyfriend. It's what I've wanted all these years, right?
Robby lets go of me, asking with a grin, "Was that your dick poking my leg? Ha ha, did you spring a boner, baby?" I nod my head, "Yeah, I did. I've got it bad for you, Rob." He grins, "I know you do and as I've told you a thousand times, nothing has ever made me happier. Lets keep it going, you can count on me. You're happy aren't you? I mean happy about the way everything is between you and me." I mumble, "Yeah, of course," because he's right, I am happy. Still there's that something I can't put my finger on. Robby chugs some beer, then says, "I need a refill. No classes tomorrow so lets get another beer." I love how he gets so excited about anything to do with us, so I nod my head still feeling kind of dreamy. Robby whispers, "And, baby, don't forget what you promised to do later tonight. I'm kind of horny just thinking about it." I gulp, "You mean me rimming your ass?" He goes, "Bingo, that and the sex that follows. Ain't it great sleeping together? Come on, we'll get another beer." He's right, sleeping together is fucking awesome. Why do I try to make things confusing when they don't need to be? I go, "I'm horny too, Rob. I'm always horny for you." He grins, "That's my boy," and I finish my bottle of beer.
Apparently quite a number of those attending the hockey game decided they also need some libation after watching the loss because it's gotten crowded on the deck. Tracy's got himself a sweet deal here with this speakeasy. He usually sells draft beer, but it's bottles tonight for some reason. Probably because Tracy got the cases of beer on sale. The cops will catch on eventually and he'll be shut down I suppose, but for now it's a nice place to have a few beers and hang out. Betcha not one person here is twenty one years old." As we're on our way to the table near the steps, the one that serves as the bar, Danny Monday hooks his arm with Robby's, saying, "Dude, fancy meeting you here." Robby glances around, then quietly says, "Hi ya, Danny, you know my boyfriend, Dylan, right?" Danny goes, "Sure, how you doing, Dylan?" I nod my head, but don't say anything. He's very cute in a macho sort of way. Danny shifts his eyes back to Robby, nodding his head towards the back of the deck, saying, "Rob, can I talk to you about something for a second, um, alone?" Robby makes a face, "What? No! Are you out of your fucking mind? I'm with Dylan! I just told you that. What do ya want to talk about? You can talk freely right here," and Robby ruffles my hair grinning at me. Danny frowns at that, getting red in the face, then goes "Never mind then, fuck it, Rob!" and he stalks off. I watch him stomp away, then go, "I wouldn't have minded if you wanted to talk to him alone," and Robby says, "Well I would have, he's getting on my nerves. He knows about you and me so it was fuckin' rude of him to think I'd go have a private conversation with him and leave you alone. Jesus, what an idiot!" Huh, well okay then.
There's a little line we need to wait in getting our second beer. I'm kinda staring at Robby and he glances at me and gives me that cute grin, asking, "What?" and I mouth silently, "I love you." He smiles as Chubby comes over putting his arm across my shoulders and stands with us, saying to the guys
behind us, "Sorry guys, I'm with them. I'm not butting in line," which of course is exactly what he just did. Chubby's smile and casual friendly manner allows him to get away with stuff like that. I ask, "Did you score with that girl?" He says, "Please! Didn't you notice she has like whiskers, or hairs on her top lip. She bleaches it, but still... poor thing." Then a girl comes over and taps me on the shoulder, "Hi, Dylan. I'll let you buy me a beer." Who the fuck is this? I frown at her, as she says, "I'm an admirer of yours sitting behind you and your two friends in that boring lecture hall on Tuesday afternoons. I'm Clarice." I go, "That's nice, but I've only got too tokens left," which is of course another little white lie. She squeals at that for some reason, "Oh silly, that's how many tokens you need for a beer." Hmmm, she's as perky as a chickadee, but probably dumber. I mumble, "The two tokens are for my beer." She smacks my arm, mumbling, "Meanie," and a heavy-set girl calls over to her, "Clarice, come here. Tony's got us a beer." Clarice gives me a look that she probably thinks is sexy, saying, "You lose, Dylan," and saunters away. I roll my eyes at Robby, saying, "We gotta change our seats next Tuesday."
Halfway finished our second beer Ryan, Marty, and Rex make an appearance. They skip buying tokens so I guess they're not drinking. A minute later while Chubby's in the middle of a funny story, Ryan gooses my ass and I turn my head, "Hey, Ryan, wassup?" He humps his groin against my ass a few times. I go, "Ryan! What the fuck's wrong with you?" then see his eyes have dilated pupils and now I can smell the pot on his clothes. I say, "Oh, puffing away again, huh?" He goes, "I was looking for you, I texted you. Get high with me and my boys." I glance at Rex and Marty, who both looked spaced out too. They're still over near the steps arguing with Tracy about buying tokens. I can hear them yelling from here, "Why don't I just give you two bucks for the beer? What's this token shit?" After a minute or two of those guys arguing back and forth with Tracy and his girlfriend, Robby says, "Yo, Ryan, straighten out your friends, will ya? They're giving Tracy a hard time." Ryan waves his hand at Robby, "Yeah, yeah, okay, Rob, in a minute." Chubby turns around and says, "Hey little fellow, do it right now or we will, and we'll probably not be as diplomatic as you'd be." Ryan looks confused, then he says to me, "I texted you," and I go, "I was at the ice hockey game. Go drag Marty and Rex away from Tracy." He tries to focus on what I said as Chubby says to me, 'Come on, bro, lets help Tracy out." Robby joins us as we leave a confused Ryan looking around. Robby says to Rex, who's the most aggressive one, "Whoa, whoa, guy! Okay, you're new here so we'll give you a pass this time, but we kinda like Tracy's speakeasy and you're yelling is gonna attract unwanted attention from the neighbors. Also, ha ha, you're both higher than a kite can fly, oh me oh my." Marty asks, "What kite?" Chubby says, "Forget the fuckin' kite, alright? Ya can't come here in this condition yelling the way you've been doing. It's impolite, ya know?" Both Marty and Rex are yelling louder now, "Who the fuck do you think you are?" Chubby says, "Come on, we'll walk down the steps with you two and I'll explain," and then he takes hold of an arm on each to gently move them toward the steps. Robby looks back at me, "Dylan, round up Ryan so he can join his friends." I turn to go as I hear Marty say, "Hey, where we going?" If they were drunk instead of high this wouldn't go as easily as this.
I find Ryan sitting on the railing that encircles the deck, swaying unsteadily and smoking a Marlboro. I grab his arm, "Jesus, you'll fall off that fucking railing! Get down from there, Ryan!" He says, "Dylan," and he hops down, staggers a few steps, and then hugs me, "I texted you." Breaking out of the hug, I begin walking him towards the steps. As we pass him, Tracy says, "Thanks, Dylan. Tell the boys there's a beer on me waiting for them." I nod at him as Ryan says in a stage whisper, "You want me to fuck you, don't you?" Oh brother, was I this bad Sunday night? Embarrassing! Going down the steps, I ask, "Who drove over here?" and Ryan mumbles, "I forget. Did you get my text?" At the bottom of the steps, Robby says, "Over here, Dylan." I lead Ryan over to the group as Chubby goes, "They can't remember where their car's parked." I go, "What the fuck? They just got out of it five minutes ago. Where's the car Ryan?" He's lighting a joint now, I smell it with his first exhale. Robby says, "What car did you come here in, Ryan?" He goes, "Rex's car." and Rex says, "Oh yeah, that's right." Ryan passes the joint to me. I go, "No thanks," and he gives it to Marty. Chubby asks, "What kind of car do you have, Rex?" and Ryan asks me,"Ya get my text yet?" Rex is frowning trying to remember what car he drove over here, then he takes the joint from Marty, muttering, "It's red." I look around and see a car a block and a half down from us with one wheel up on the curb, and it's red. Nodding my head at the car on the curb, Chubby chuckles shaking his head as Robby says, "I'll drive these stoners back to the campus," and Chubby says, "Yeah, good idea. Me and Dylan will follow you and pick you up when you get there." The three musketeer of pot-smokers fame are giggling like little kids now, but they're malleable enough and do what they're told.
Robby's getting them inside the car as I hear him say, "No, I don't want any of that shit,"and a door slams. I tell Chubby, "Tracy's got some free beers for us when we get back." He shrugs, then turns the Jeep around and we follow Robby to the campus with me thinking how glad I am I'm not in the car with those pot heads. Chubby pulls up behind Rex's red Ford Focus on the campus, and we sit here watching the three pot heads and Robby get out. Ryan immediately lights another joint with Rex and Marty hovering around him waiting for the joint to be passed to them. So, Ryan's apparently got a couple of friends now, or at least he does as long as his marijuana stash holds out. Robby hands the car keys to Rex and walks over to the Jeep. "They won't even remember this is the morning," he mumbles as he's getting in the back seat of the Jeep. I say, "Ya know, if they were drunk instead of high we'd have had a lot more trouble getting them away from Tracy's." So, that's a minor positive I guess, and it's a good point, but I don't want to think of myself being in that condition. Not again anyway. We drive back to Tracy's, get our free beers along with a pat on the back. It's not a bad thing having some goodwill with Tracy. He's our main booze dude. We finish the freebie beers and go for another one, and it's free too.
Smoking Marlboros, drinking and talking about different things with different guys and a few girls we're enjoying each other and pleased with ourselves, happy to be young. We're young, yeah, so it's easy to fool ourselves, with the help of some beers, into believing we're cooler than a polar bear's toenails too. Then three new guys and two girls come up the steps to join the growing group here on Tracy's deck. I recognize Mike Manaski, who's Jasper Jenkin's roommate, and they're with Chad Bundy. Swell! Chad's Robby's alleged fuck-buddy from last year, and I don't know the girls. Yeah, first Danny Monday showed up earlier tonight, and now Chad Bundy makes an appearance. Should be interesting. All five of the new comers are obviously already drunk, but Tracey's inside. His girlfriend is out here selling the tokens. She's apparently tired of arguing with guys so she lets this new group buy tokens even though they're drunk already. They all get a beer talking loudly. It's time to think about leaving. I watch the new group as Chubby's telling us about a party he was at with Judy last week. He goes, "This guy, Tony, tells me, 'Dude, all the chicks at this party are ugly'. The translation of that is, 'Dude, none of these chicks will talk to me,' ha ha." I'm watching Mike Manaski who's very big as in six foot, five inches tall with wide shoulders and he's carrying a lot of weight. He's got one of those booming voices that he's using to announce they've come from doing beer pong, like anybody gives a shit. I met him once or twice through Jasper last year, but he was sober then so this is like a different person.
Now Mike's rudely shouldering his way through those trying to dance, leaving a path of angry campers in his wake as he heads for our preferred spot at the railing. We like it here because there's nobody behind us and we can lean against the railing. There's a lot of railing though, so why they chose where we are baffles me. For whatever reason they make room for themselves next to us. Chad Bundy pretends he's startled when he see Robby, then he says, "Hey, Dickers, wassup?" slurring his words pretty badly. Robby looks at him, muttering, "Not much," and turns his back on Chad, who spots me, and goes, "Oh, it's pretty boy, wassup, dude," so obviously he can't remember my name. I mumble, "Not much," and he says, "You two practice that act, do ya?" meaning both Robby and me saying the same thing to him. I shrug and Mananski sees my snub of Chad so he gets too close to me, and also slurring his words, goes, "What? You're too cool to talk to us?" Bullying doesn't just occur in middle school and high school. Some of the bullies go off to college where they haze their roommates and peers in general. I've always wondered why someone becomes a bully. Perhaps they can't think of any other way of fitting in or carving a niche for themselves, or perhaps it comes down to fear. They fear no one likes them maybe, or they fear life in general so they bolster their self image by bullying those weaker physically than them, or someone who's different in some way, who they label as 'nerds'. Or maybe it's as simple as assuming they're basically mean cruel people who can only feel good by demeaning others. Whatever, they're not hard to spot. I say, "Mike, what's there to talk about?" He goes, "Ah ha, you remember me, huh?" I see from the corner of my eye Chubby has taking notice and now he's staring hard at Mike. It's a look I've seen in my brother's eyes on occasion all my life. That 'look' has never been directed at me I'm happy to say.
Wanting to avoid confrontation, I say, "Sure I remember you, Mike, you're Jasper's roommate, right. I met you through him last year." Manaski's still too close, in my personal space you could say, as he arrogantly cocks his head and reaches over to run his fingers through my hair, asking, "What kind of a haircut do you call this?" Moving my head away from his hand, I mutter, "A fucked-up one, what's it to you?" Now Mananski leans his body on me putting his full body weight against me with my back pressed hard against the railing. I push at his bulk, saying, "Get the fuck off me," and Chubby jumps on the big ape's back with his arm around the front of Mike's throat. Well, there goes the good will we recently built up with Tracy. Fighting on the deck is frowned upon by him. Chubby's shifting his weight backwards so Mike's bent backwards too. Robby takes the opportunity to pound a fist into Manaski's solar plexus, then another hard punch, "Thud!". The crowd backs away going, "Ooooh, a fight!" Everyone on the deck turns to watch. Robby's between me and Mananski throwing more punches at his stomach until Chubby's pulls the bully back enough that he falls over on his back with a, "Thump!". Mike hasn't said anything in the past fifteen seconds, which is all it's taken. Neither Jasper or Chad steps in to help Mananski, but one of the drunk girls with them pushes Chubby spilling her beer on him in the process. Chubby pushes her back hard and she falls over backwards landing on her ass, yelling, "You faggot, fighting a girl. Is that your style, ya cunt." Why is it girls think they can do or say whatever they want without consequences? I've never understood that.
Robby's got a foot on either side of Mananski's chest, leaning down with his fist held back, saying, "Do you want a broken jaw, or would you rather leave?" Chubby's staring at the girl he knocked on her ass, watching her get up, spitting out at Chubby, "You asshole, fuckwad!" He takes a step toward her and she backs up staying clear of him. She also shuts the fuck up. Jasper slurs, "Come on, let him go, Dickers, we're leaving. No need to escalate this further." 'Escalate' sounded suspiciously like, 'Essshasate' when he said it, but we know what he means. Chad Bundy mumbles, "Yeah, Dickers, and you might consider you could get thrown off the baseball team if you get arrested for fighting. Think about that, mister stuck-up." Robby ignores him as Mananski mutters, "We'll finish this later, you faggots!" Then to Jasper, "Help me the fuck up, will ya?" None of them know Robby and I are gay, other than Chad Bundy, and he's in the closet. Manaski calling us faggots is meant as a generic pejorative insult. When Mananski's standing, with Robby, me, and Chubby standing around him, alert for a sucker punch, Mike tries to salvage some dignity by looking at us scornfully. He's realizing somewhere in the primitive part of his drunken brain that three against one aren't good odds. He settles for scowling at us, then scowls at Jasper and Bundy for not jumping in to help him, but they're apparently not fighters. Some guys just aren't, most guys actually. Done scowling, Mananski says to his crew, "Lets get the fuck out of here. This bunch of losers bores the shit out of me." The rest of the guys on the deck murmur words of disappointment that this isn't going to develop into anything more. Most fights don't, and this one lasted all of twenty seconds although it may have seemed longer to Mananski. He's a little bit emboldened now that he's standing and can sense we have no intention of taking it further. He points at Chubby, "You and me, midget. We got unfinished business." Then, as he's brushing his ass off he points to Robby and me, "You two girls are on my list too. Assholes!" Chubby says, "Yeah, yeah, yeah, just get the fuck out of here."
Some more scowling, and then Mananski adds, "There's no reason I'd want to stay here anyway, but just for the fuck of it I'm finishing my beer first, ya little prick." It's important to let the defeated one save a little face, so Chubby just shrugs and we reform our groups with Mananski's group noticeably quieter than they were a minute ago. We all light cigarettes as the epinephrine from the adrenaline rush clears from our systems leaving me, for one, feeling tired. We mutter among ourselves about assholes in general and how a single asshole can ruin things for everybody. Tracy slips into our group, laughingly saying, "I'm gonna have to hire you boys as bouncers. What was that all about?" We give a brief description, downplaying the whole incident and again we get pats on our shoulders from Tracy, so I guess we still got the goodwill after all. The night's lost it's glitter though and after we watch the defeated group of drunks swagger off the deck with Mananski back to his habit of shouldering others out of his way, Robby quietly says in my ear, "Lets take off, Dylan, whaddaya say?" I nod my head, then tell Chubby, "Bro, we wanna take off. Do you want to come with us or can you get a ride?" Ears Henderson has joined us, I didn't even know he was here. He says, "I'll give you a ride, Jeff," so we bump fists with Chubby muttering, "Later, bro," with Chub saying, "See ya later slugger," to Robby. As we're walking away I hear Ears ask Chubby, "How come Newman calls you 'Chubby'?" I would have loved to hear the bullshit story Chubby tells Ears, but we're going down the steps and too many people are talking at once for me to hear what he says.
In the Jeep with me driving, Robby says, "Weird night, huh?" I go, "Yeah, a day in the life of a college student." We drive for a minute or so and Robby says, "I don't want to be 'that guy' who told you so, but you saw Ryan tonight and I'd hate to think my boyfriend would ever act like that in public. In other words, don't be a stoner, and we gotta do something to get Ryan off that shit too." I mumble, "Don't worry about me, Rob, I won't let myself get like that. I already told Ryan I'm not doing anymore pot." No sense in making it worse mentioning the marijuana I smoked was mostly laced with crack. Ryan's getting high on regular marijuana now, but Tom said it was high grade and not the garbage you normally get on the street. Back at our apartment complex I'm driving around the parking lot looking for an open parking spot. Robby says, "This sucks! It's a first, babe. There's usually a number of good spots to park in." I roll my eyes but say nothing while I drive to the lot next to ours, finding a spot in the back. We get out with Robby bitching, "This is ridiculous! We pay our rent and there should be enough spots for everyone in our building." I'm biting my lip grinning to myself. There's no sense telling him this always happens to me because it never happens to Robby and he'd think I'm making it up.
Inside we take some preventive medicine in the form of three Tylenol each, although actually we didn't have that many beers. Maybe we had five over a couple of hours. We do our bathroom stuff and get undressed, "No pajama's tonight, baby, we're gonna mess around." I get undressed then put my arms around Robby's neck, saying, "Thanks for having my back with that asshole Mananski, Rob." He goes, "Always, Dylan, and did you notice I didn't go medieval on his ass. It was a controlled, um..." and I mutter, "Rage." He chuckles, "Yeah, I was in a bit of a rage, but that big asshole was leaning on my main squeeze. My only squeeze actually. I think Danny's pissed-off big time that I wouldn't drop everything and listen to his nonsense." I nod my head without commenting, not wanting to think of any of Robby's possible side sex partners. Robby squeezes both of my butt cheeks while kissing my other cheeks, one after the other. "You smell so good, Dylan. I've always had a thing for your scent. Your skin smells sexy and I love it," as he inhales with his nose against my forehead. He goes, "Aaaaah, so nice." We kiss a nice long kiss with some tongue and our noses rubbing. It's so wonderful to move my naked body against his too, and with our lips kissing and sucking while our tongues slide together it's even hotter. I've got a raging boner in two minutes as I gasp for breath and put my face on his shoulder. Robby feels so strong and his body's so tight it's captivating and very exciting. The sexual heat I've been feeling for Robby lately is off the charts. It's like I want to wrap my arms and legs around him with my tongue in his mouth and our hard boners rubbing together, which is just about what I'm doing, now that I think about it.
As I'm inhaling deeply replenishing my oxygen supply Robby, murmurs, "I believe someone promised someone that he'd rim the ass of the other someone. I
love when you do that." I chuckle, "Yeah, I love it too because it shows you how submissive I am to you." He says, "Can we just make love without that sub/dom mumbo jumbo, Dylan. I like to believe we're pleasuring each other without labels, ya know what I mean?" He said that in a joking way, but I know he doesn't like to think he's being dominant. It has a negative connotation somehow for him. So, okay, no labels. I say, "How's this? I love rimming your ass because I'm captivated by every inch of you." He goes, "Now we're getting there. Thanks, Dylan. Be submissive or love every inch of my body, whatever you want to call it, just do it." He's still being playful and I like fun sex too, but I've been feeling romantic with Robby lately so I prefer that. I say, "Be romantic, Rob. I like it best when you're romantic with me." He says, "Sure, babe. Let's get in bed then." We walk to the bed with an arm around each other's waist. I mumble, "This is a good start." He grins and as we stand next to the bed, then Robby gives me a lovers romantic kiss. Ryan gives the best sexually hot kisses, but he's not good with the romantic ones. Robby does that best.
It's a long kiss and we're both breathless afterward with precum on both our dicks and stomachs. Robby pulls the covers down to the foot of the bed and we lay on the bed in each others arms for another delicious romantic kiss. Then I take a deep breath, smiling at Robby and slowly lick his face. My tongue goes up his forehead into his two tone blond hair. Looking at him, I murmur, "I'm going to taste all of you," and he nods, grinning, "Taste away my beautiful boyfriend." Licking across his lips and down his chin and neck my tongue travels to his chest. A long lick across both nipples as I look into his eyes with mine at the top of their sockets. A lick here and there below his pecs and then I'm sucking on each nipple 'cause I like to see them standing at attention for when I lick down to his belly button, one of my favorite places to leave a supply of my saliva. Robby's been fidgeting some while I'm licking his body, tasting him and smelling him. Somewhere along the line I drift into a dreamy state of mind with my hard cock throbbing and me feeling good all over. When I'm licking around his shaved groin area Robby moans and moves his ass on the sheet as he plays with my hair running his fingers from the front to back of my head. I suck on the fat helmet head of his cock and then take the whole thing into my warm wet mouth and lick the shaft while sucking it until it's at attention just like his nipples. Robby lifts his ass off the mattress going, "Umm, ooh, uum." Licking all over his balls and then sucking them into my mouth one at a time to hum on them and now Robby's doing a lot of squirming and quietly grunting. Holding his wet scrotum full of nuts off to the side, along with his hard fat cock, I lick down to his asshole with Robby lifting it to accommodate my efforts.
Once, twice, three times I lick right over his asshole while inhaling Robby's distinctly sexy aroma. He's very clean, and with my tongue on his asshole I feel more precum drool slowly down the shaft of my boner as I picture in my head my tongue soon going inside his ass. The lips of his anus is loose enough now to get the tip of my tongue in past his sphincter muscle, then
another half inch with Robby moaning. He's keeping his ass steady as my tongue goes in and out of his asshole. Four or five times is all it takes to get precum from Robby's boner drooling down my hand that's holding his privates against his left thigh. After rimming him for a couple of minutes amid moans of sexual stimulation from him, I lick as much of his ass cheeks as I can reach and then down the back of his thigh that he's lifted up off the bed. Robby's pulled his legs up so his knees are in the air with his feet flat on the bed on either side of me. I'm deep in a trance of sexual pleasure worshiping my boyfriend's awesome body. At the underside of his knee I switch to the top of it and lick down the front of his leg to his foot. Lifting his foot and sucking on his toes with a thought flying through my brain I should do this for my brother real soon.
Finished licking all over Robby's left foot, I switch to his right foot sucking his toes, then lick the rest of his foot. Traveling up his right leg dragging my tongue on it to his groin, I suck his steel cock again. Then up his stomach, re-suck his nipples and up his neck, over his perfectly shaped chin to his lips. His tongue comes into my mouth with Robby's grunting and moving on the bed hugging me, squirming against me. It's become very hot in here and the kissing desperate, both of us humping our hips into the other's. Robby abruptly breaks the kiss and wrestles me onto my stomach. He scrambles down between my legs, I lift my ass off the bed a little and Robby's cock plows into my ass with both of us moaning, "Mmmm, oooh, ooh," breathing in bursts. Robby's highly aroused and motivated. Right from the start it's quick, "Slap,slap,slap,slap,slap," sounds echoing in my ears along with Robby's desperate sounding grunts, "Ooh,ooh,ooh,ooh, ooh," and my long "Mmmmmmm," as I thrust my ass up into his driving fat boner. My ass is alive instantly with fantastic sensations from millions of nerve endings designed through evolution to tantalize and scintillate animals pleasurably in hopes they'll procreate for survival of the species. We're subverting the procreation part while making maximum use of the tantalizing and scintillating parts. This unfortunately will be a furiously fast ride to orgasm because of the hot and heavy foreplay and because we're a couple of sexual hottie's. Desperate, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh," from Robby, "Mmmmmmm," moaning sound from me that are picking up intensity, and the constant sound of male anal intercourse popping in our ears, "Slap,slap,slap." I'm trashing around on my stomach as Robby's hips continuously plunge his hard organ inside my rectum with my anus alive with sensations of immense pleasures while my asshole lips are gripping and embracing the hard penis sliding quickly in and out between them. Robby blows his load first doing one of my squeals and pouring his seed in my bowels. The first stream is like being poked in my rectum wall with a wet finger and then follow-up spurts are all warm and messy inside me. It's slippery in my rectum now and the fast penetrations plus the cum coming out on my buttocks send me over the edge with a long squeal. My cum burns the lips of my pee slit firing out with much force and duration. That spectacular first long stream of creamy youthful jism!
More drools of cum wet the sheet under me as Robby's trusting slows down and then stops with him limply laying on my back, his cock still filling my ass. I too am limp, but I've just enough energy left to savor the buzzing in by balls and throbbing of my cock and all the little fizzling-out of the wonderful sensation associated with this enormously pleasurable sex act between me and the one I love with a passion. I don't believe I've ever really thought I was capable of loving this deeply and in such a romantic way, but I obviously am capable of it. The question is: can it actually get even better? If it never does, this is more than enough for me. Robby rolls off me pulling his now flaccid penis from my ass leaving it wide open with the lips of my anus closing and opening still overly sensitized, but with phantom stimulation now. Robby takes a deep breath, then snuggles next to me, his arm over my back hugging me against him. He murmurs, "No school tomorrow. Let's stay in bed late tomorrow and make love until we're satisfied." I nod my head, quietly saying, "If it's even possible to do it until we're satisfied."
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com
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Donny Mumford
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