DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR
Chapter 38
by Donny Mumford
Friday turned out to be a pretty good day following an uneventful week, side-sex wise. It would have been an even better day if Ryan had joined Chubby, Robby, and me at Tracy's speakeasy. Instead he decided to go back to his dorm, afraid of what his roommate will do if he finds out Ryan had sex with me. So now I'm also worrying about what that fuckwad, Marty, might do to Ryan. I don't know what the big deal is, Ryan and I only had quick buddy sex together... well, I guess technically we had it twice. Anyway, we shall see what the fall out of that is for Ryan. Speaking of quick, Tracy just gave me another one of his patented quick fuck's in his spare bedroom, and now I'm right back out on the crowded deck with a beer in my hand walking through the line-dancers looking for Chubby and Robby. It's country line-dancing night at Tracy's and it's actually been kind of fun because just about everyone here is into the dancing. That's been helped tremendously by the DJ's selection of country music. As it turns out there are some surprisingly hot country songs to dance to. I wasn't aware country music had a rock element to it, but there's definitely 'rock' in most of the songs I'm hearing tonight. Good beat and some hot electric guitar playing too.
Unable to spot either of my roommates I fight my way over to the railing area where we usually hangout, and there's Robby and Chubby talking with a couple of girls. They all look a little overheated so they probably just left
the dance floor. Actually everyone here looks overheated which is a bit surprising because it's a chilly December night. Tracy's space heaters around
the deck are helping, but mostly it's the dancing that builds up body heat. I sneak up on the group and bump into Robby accidentally on purpose. He turns around ready to say something smart-ass, but sees it's me and gives me one of his sexy grins, "Where ya been, Dylan?" I tell him I went in for a piss, and one of the girls says, "Watch you're fucking language, cutie," and both girls giggle. Oh, I guess it's supposed to be funny she said 'fuck'. Whoop-dee-do! Girls! I get introduced to the girls as Jeff's brother and Robby's boyfriend. The girl's eyes open wide when they hear 'boyfriend'. After a moments hesitation the taller of the two, I've already forgotten her name after just hearing it, says to Robby, "You're gay!" and Robby chuckles, "Yeah, I know." I'm guessing the girls had decided that the tall girl was Robby's for the night and the shorter one was to be Chubby's. They probably
were hoping to get laid, and one of then still might. Then after a few minutes of awkward conversation the girls drift away, perhaps to look for two
straight guys to fuck. Robby says, "Sorry, Chub. Looks like gay Dylan and I scared the girls away. Chubby says, "Well, they weren't anything to write home about anyway, so no loss there." The three of us talk, laugh, and at times join in with the line dancing until midnight when the DJ takes the microphone, saying, "We've got to say goodnight to you guys. Thank you all! You've been awesome line dancers! Lets do it again real soon." The music cuts off and there's a mixture of clapping and booing until a rock song, "Chocolate' by 'The 1975' replaces the country music.
The three of us finish the beers we're drinking and decide it's about time to bounce. Then Robby and Chubby decide we should first replenish our beer supply at the apartment. They both ask me to see if I can get us a case of beer. I'm curious as to why they assume I can get another case of beer without calling for it in advance like Tracy insists on. Maybe because I did it once before, or maybe because they somehow know Tracy and me are doing it? I don't know how they would know that though. In any case I decide not to ask them and instead say, "Yeah okay, I'll see what I can do," and make my way to the front of the big deck where the tall guy, the unofficial bouncer who's name I forget, is sitting on a stool at the entrance. There's a rope across the top of the stairs with a sign, 'Sold out', hanging from it. He's guarding the entrance to insure no one sneaks in under the rope I guess. I give the guy a grin and we bump fist with him asking, "What'd you think of the line dancing, Dylan?" I go, "Pretty cool once I got a few beers in me. Um, I need a case of beer, um, like for tonight, dude. Any problem?" He chuckles, "Nope, you're on Tracy's 'A' list. If you'll watch the entrance for me, I'll see what's available. Don't let anyone in, only out. I'll be right back." Cool! 'A' list, huh? Well alright! People are leaving so I unhook the rope and let the guys leave, and then Chubby comes over asking, "Were you able to score a case?" I go, "Of course, Chub, I'm on the 'A' list." He asks, "What's that?" I shrug, "Fuck if I know, first I've heard of it." The
tall guy is making his way through the crowd with a case of Rolling Rock pony bottles held over his head. When he gets to us he sets the beer on his stool and says, "It's thirty bucks for this case and thirty for the one I got ya last week." Chubby and I come up with the sixty dollars, then Chubby's carrying the case to the Jeep, saying, "Find Robby and lets go, okay?" I nod my head, then tell the guy, "Thanks, man!" and go back for Robby.
He's still at the railing. When he sees me, he asks, "Did ya get it?" I go, "Yep, lets bounce, Rob." Chubby's driving us back to our apartment when Robby has an idea, "Lets stop for a pizza." We argue about the topping to get on the pizza and settle for mushrooms. I call The Pizza Factory, that's the name of the pizza joint we like, and order a large mushroom pizza that we'll be picking up. Twenty minutes later we're back at the apartment with the pizza and beer. We drink beers and eat pizza while rehashing stuff about the line dancing and our recent funny or weird experiences in class or on campus. There's a late college basketball game on TV for background noise, and everything considered, we're having a pretty typical college Friday night. A little after two o'clock in the morning we've finally had enough beer, so now us getting to bed seems like a good idea. Taking only the time needed to piss, wash our hands and face, and brush our teeth we're ready for some down time. Robby and I snuggle together under the covers, but neither of us mentions anything about having sex. We're a little drunk, very tired, and I'm guessing we both got laid at least once tonight, so we're good. Well, I know I got laid at least once tonight, and I'm guessing Robby did too. I say that because when he left for Danny Monday's earlier he could have driven Danny to a Pep Boys in Peabody and stopped at Five Guys to have two burgers each in the time he was gone. There's a Pep Boys in downtown North Andover which is a five minute trip, not an hour. So what'd he do with all that extra time? I could guess, but I don't want to.
We sleep-in Saturday morning until almost noon. Getting out of bed Robby and I are a little hungover but nothing serious. We both go for OJ and Tylenol in the kitchen, then Robby takes a shower while I have a mug of coffee and read the Globe's sports page at the kitchen counter. No sign of Chubby yet. The thought drifts into my brain that I told Dougie Hamilton and his roommate, Jamie McFarland, I'd give them haircuts at one o'clock this afternoon. Why the fuck did I do that? Hmmm, oh yeah, I remember now. I was under the impression both Robby and Chubby have something they need to do this afternoon. I guess they'll do it later, so I better text Dougie. After grabbing my cell phone off the bedroom night-table, I'm walking back to the kitchen looking at it and there's a text from Devon. He sent it around eight o'clock this morning asking if I'm home this weekend because there's a couple of posse boys who want haircuts. I text him that it'll have to be next weekend, and then text Dougie not to come over at one because something's come up. He texts back asking for a revised time and I get an idea. I ask if his dorm room has a sink? As it turns out it does, so I can do the shampoos there. I tell him that and give him the revised time of around three o'clock. He's like, "Dude, cool!" Okay, that's set. Yesterday I was thinking Dougie, Jamie, and I had a three-way back in September, but that never happened. They wanted me to participate in a three-way with them, that's what it was, but I turned them down. That was back in my ill-conceived cutting back on side-sex days, but I watched those two make-out and then Dougie fucking Jamie. I watched but it wasn't like I was perv'ing on them. Jamie had insisted I watch claiming I was their sex mentor. Actually they both nagged me to watch, but that was three months ago so my mind played tricks on me yesterday I guess. Okay, I didn't participate then, but I'm going to this afternoon and that's why their dorm room is safer than our apartment. One of my roommates could walk in on us here. Dougie fucking Jamie was the first time Jamie's ever taken it up his ass. He says he fucked a girl once, but he'd never done it either way with a guy until that time with Dougie. He loved it and I gotta admit it was hot watching those two go at it. Jamie's crazy reason for wanting me to observe was to verify Dougie was doing it right. Dougie nagged me to watch because Jamie wouldn't fuck unless I watched. Yeah, and they were doing it just fine, they even used a condom. I wonder what their sex lives has been like since then. I've seen them on campus a number of times although they never mentioned fucking except to tease me about doing a three-way with them. I can't imagine they haven't fucked since that first time. They're a couple of cute sexy gay boys alright. It's weird that they both turned nineteen on the same day too... September thirtieth so they're the exact same age.
Robby, with a towel around his waist, breaks into my musings. He's standing at the end of the hall telling me the bathroom's all mine. So I take my shower staying in there until the water turns luke warm. When I'm drying myself I realize I'm feeling pretty fuckin' good now. The Tylenol have kicked in and taken care of my little headache and the shower took care of that beat-up feeling a hangover can cause. Then, while I'm checking for clean underwear in the bureau, Robby sneaks up behind me and gets his arms around my waist. I jumped initially because I was startled. He laughs at that then leans his chest against my back with the side of his face next to mine, hugging me and saying. "Hey, babe, I'm feeling a little horny this morning," and he humps against my ass a few times. I go, "Well, boyfriend, in that case you've come to the right place." I turn around facing him and see he's only got his bathrobe on, so I guess he had this in mind all along. We do a nice kiss, then another one with our crotches humping together and our tongues getting involved with things. A minute later Robby slides his lips across my cheek to my ear, sticks his tongue in my ear for a bit, and then murmurs, "I'm thinking you might want to show your man what you can do with that amazing tongue of yours, and I mean in places other than my mouth." He's in a playful mood, kidding about the 'my man' thing. Yeah, I started referring to him as ' my man' after he proposed to me although our engagement has since been called off until later, much later. I go, "You're not suggesting I stick my tongue up your ass, are you?" He kisses my ear and says, "That's it exactly, you read my mind." I go, "No way would I do that unless you let me suck your cock first." Robby chuckles, "Hmmm, you drive a hard bargain, but okay, you got yourself a deal." I say, "Not so fast, slick. I'll need to lick and suck your nuts too. That's nonnegotiable." Robby mumbles, "That's a ballsie suggestion, but I guess that would be okay too."
We do some more deep kissing with our hands moving over each other's body with me managing to slip Robby's bathrobe off. Glancing at the bedroom door I see he closed it and the lock button on the doorknob is pushed in. Good thinking, Robby. We're slowly making our way to the unmade bed as we kiss, suck, and lick each other's face and mouth, tongue, and lips. Robby backs up to the bed and I sit him down on the edge of it, then go down on my knees between his legs and pick up his fat four inch cock, staring at the oversized head for a second, then licking it until I've covered the fat head with saliva. I suck just the head into my mouth then and, "Mmmm," it's a nice mouthful alright. From Robby's groin area I'm smelling mostly bath gel. His personal sexy scent is barely coming through at the moment. I'll probably notice it more when my nose is on his belly and the head of his cock is in my throat. Robby's dick is semi-hard already from our make-out, and I'm gonna keep my eyes on it expecting to see it get harder and harder as I suck on the head and twirl my tongue around it, then tease the pee slit with the tip of my tongue. Robby's ass is squirming on the bed with him leaning over a little rubbing my head and shoulders. As expected I soon see his cock firm-up tighter, so I take the whole thing in my mouth and now my nose is touching his belly and sure enough his sexy scent quickly fills my head making me moan quietly. Like always, taking Robby's whole cock in my mouth pushes the head against my gag reflex area with only a half inch of the head in my throat. It makes me gag obviously because the head is fat and stationary, laying right on the gag spot. I need to back off it a little and get the head laying just at the back of my tongue. When a guy's cock is long enough to slide past the gag reflex area I'm okay, but Robby's isn't long enough yet. It gets a little longer when it's boned-up to the max; then, deep throating him is possible.
My head's bobbing on his hardening cock, saliva drooling off my chin with Robby doing quiet grunts, but no longer rubbing my head and shoulders. Now his arms are behind him, his hands on the mattress with Robby leaning back concentrating on his cock being sucked. It doesn't take long to suck a raging boner on him and when I take it out of my mouth, it's shiny with spit and sticking straight our from his groin very hard and so tight the skin looks stretched and about to split. I'll bet it feels good too. I stroke my own boner a couple of times; I know that feels good. Robby's moaning pleasantly as I lick his balls, then lift them to lick under his scrotum near his asshole before sucking the lower nut into my mouth and humming on it. Out comes his nut, and now I'm licking all over his scrotum as precum drool from his cock onto my cheek. I push his bag of nuts to the side and lick his ass crack. Robby lays back on the bed bringing his legs up with his heels resting on the edge of the mattress fully exposing his rosebud anus. Random hairs are flattened against his skin with two more laps of my tongue and then I concentrate on licking just his anus six or seven times loosening that flower up a little with Robby's moans of sexual arousal echoing in my ears. He's squirming on the bed as the sexy sensations build. The anus has a lot of nerve endings that get stimulated quite easily in any number of ways, licking being one of those ways. It doesn't take me long to get a half inch of my tongue inside his asshole, and then maybe even a little more than that. I pull my tongue out and push it right back in about the same amount, but before I can do it a third time Robby pushes off with his heels moving over on the bed away from me and taking his ass with him. I look up and see more precum drooling from his pee slit as Robby's laying flat on his back, his body doing a little spastic shaking.
He lifts his head, his face flushed, he takes a few deep breaths, then mumbles, "Almost lost it there, Dylan. Fuck, rimming feels good, dude. Get on the bed now and get your reward." My reward? I crawl onto the bed and roll up on my side so my back and ass are facing him. Robby shimmies over a little and plugs his cock's head right in past my sphincter and now it's my turn to do a little spastic shuddering, "Mmm, Robby, feels good." He's up on his side behind me slowly pushing the rest of his cock up my ass. My shoulders shudder again plus I need to stifle an 'Ow' because his cock is fatter than most and it hurts a little going in. He's quickly tight up against my back, his groin flat against my buttocks, his arm over my side with him rubbing my right nipple, the one with my nip ring. He's rubbing that nipple between his thumb and forefinger while considerately letting my rectum adjust to the welcome intrusion before continuing our anal sex. In the meantime, near where my neck meets my shoulder, Robby, for something to do, begins sucking and licking a spot there. He's obviously intending on making a hickey on the side of my neck. It's nice having my rectum feeling so full and Robby's chest against my back, his arm over my side rubbing my nipple. I reach an arm back over him and squeeze his tight ass, loving Robby and his body. It always feels like I'm home when Robby and me have sex. It never seems routine to me and I consider that important because we've been doing sex together frequently for three years now, yet it's still like a new experience. Each time it's almost like it's our first time to me. Magical and amazing that we can still bring so much seemingly new and bright sexual pleasure to each other. I always say Robby's my favorite sex partner and some day I hope to say he's my only sex partner, but that time isn't in our sophomore year of college. It just isn't.
Robby's satisfied with the small hickey on the side of my neck, he's also apparently satisfied he got one of my nipples standing hard at attention, and I'm satisfied I'm feeling sexually awesome. He pushes me over on my stomach with his cock pulling out of my ass in the process. Robby's breathing a bit heavily as he spreads my legs, getting between them. His hard cock slides right back up my ass feeling so fucking good, "Aaaaah, uummm, nice, Robby." He lays on me and sucks on my hickey some more, so I guess he wasn't satisfied with it after all. It's sexy having some cute guy give me a hickey, assuming he doesn't take it too far and it starts stinging and itching. Robby leaves the hickey before that, and after kissing the side of my forehead, he lifts up like he's doing a push up and begins moving his hips and subtle, "Slap, slap, slap," sounds start up. Subtle because he's only at moderate speed and his thrusts aren't especially hard. Feels real nice though and I could go quite awhile enjoying the sensations building in my rectum. Robby's apparently enjoying the way his boner feels too because he maintains his moderate thrust for maybe five or six minutes. It's a delicious feeling in my ass with my cock throbbing nicely too, but after a bit the sensations begin adding up and we both start breathing in bursts as I begin some serious squirming under him. While squirming with sexual arousal I'm murmuring, "Mmm, mmm, ooh, ooh, mmm, Robby faster, oooh," pushing my ass back at his
thrusts.
Robby gasps as his thrusting picks up speed and intensity and now we're both groaning and getting wilder with our hip movements with my ass wildly humping back at each four inch fireplug penetration. His hard fat cock relentlessly moving back and forth in my rectum with Robby now further accelerating the speed of his thrusting. It gets sexually hotter and hotter as now the pronounced, "Slap, slap, slap, slap, slap," sounds join our groaning and moaning. My eyes tightly close, my ass muscles clench and unclench seemingly on their own as Robby's boner travels firmly and continuously in my ass. Sensations inside me are increasing and increasing until they're at an almost unbearable level of pleasure. My stretched anus is hugging Robby's fat member, my prostate from being constantly rubbed is now screaming hysterically at it's nerve endings and sending millions of messages of pleasure to my brain, a brain that's already overwhelmed with red warning signs of eminent climax. My orgasm roars in on me and takes over my brain now as my body begins to tremble and Robby's sexy scent is the only scent I'm aware of reminding me it's him I'm doing this with, then, "Eeeeeee!" with my hips humping, my back arching and me holding my breath while tightening every muscle in my body and it's super nova time with cum streaking from my quivering pee slit wetting a line from my belly to my chest, another muscle contraction and another squeal as the second string of cum shoot out of my hard cock, then three small squirts has me basically babbling with my head filled with bright white lights as my body shudders and then another shudder as my rectum gets filled up with Robby's cum. Only now do his moans and trembling body against mine register in my consciousness. Robby's tight against me making a whimpering sound with each blast of spunk that shoots up from his nuts and into my bowels. His body gets stiff with each ejaculation and then we're like two Ken rag dolls limp and satisfied with the last sizzling of after climax sensations that are buzzing around our groins before fading out.
I feel wiped-out for a minute or so and then elated. Sex is simply awesome. Nothing compares to the intense pleasure, especially those swiftly passing few seconds of climax when the universe is motionless for a tiny instant in time. Robby lets out a lot of air, then quietly chuckles and says, "Did you hear those whines from me, Dylan? I thought I was having a stroke for a second there. Holy shit that was so fabulous." He rolls off me pulling his cock from my ass and it drags wetly across my butt cheek, then Robby's snuggling against me with his arm across my back hugging my side. He murmurs, "How was it for you, baby? Did it feel good?" I turn my face to his, our noses almost touching. "Yep, it was fan-fucking-tastic, Robby. You are so good at sex it makes me wonder how much practice you've been getting." He goes, "Huh. Well, mostly I practice on you, but the rare time I bumble into a side-sex situation I'm still practicing for you. It's always about you as far as I'm concerned." I grin, "That's so sweet, Robby. Sing me our song," and he sings, with a western twang, the song about 'the heart that you own'. I smile all the way through the song. He sings it so sincerely it gives me chills and makes my eyes water. "I love you, Robby," and we kiss a little bit more. That's the special part about sex with your true love, the time after the sex is sweet and filled with affection and deep pure love. That's the major difference between it and buddy-sex. BIG difference though!
We cuddle and then joke around about all the spunk on me. My cum on the front of me and Robby's in back. "And to think we both just had a shower. Lets take another one together, Dylan." I go, "Nah, there's no hot water left. It'll be a while before it reheats. Hee hee, Chubby's gonna be screaming bloody murder if he tries taking a shower too soon. The hot water tank will take an hour to reheat the water." Then we talk about what we speculate happened between Ryan and his roommate. Robby says, "It looks like you were right about Marty being an asshole. Do you think we should do something about that?" I go, "I think we need more information, and Ryan's not forthcoming about much of that. Plus he's still sort of defending fuckwad's behavior by saying it's not nearly as bad as some he's come in contact with." Robby mumbles, "Not much of an endorsement, is it?" I go, "No, but Chubby's right, it's a real hairball. We're in an awkward position because while we don't approve of what we surmise is happening to Ryan, if he's okay with it what can we do?" Robby says, "Sometimes a person doesn't know what's good for them, like a drug abuser or alcoholic, and an intervention is needed to bring them to their senses." I go, "Well, I'm not prepared to tell Ryan what's best for him. Not yet anyway. If Ryan was asking for help or even complaining about the treatment he's getting, than that would be different, but he's not. Like I said, he's defending Marty's behavior." Then we hear from Chubby's bathroom a lot of loud cursing. He must be in the shower and that gets us giggling and smirking at each other. "Oh fuck, Chubby's in the shower, Dylan." I go, "Yeah, apparently. I'll blame the lack of hot water on the apartment complex. Let Chub take it up with them."
In our bathroom Robby helps me clean the spunk off my body using the luke warm water available, as I'm muttering, "Fucking hot water heater," and that gets us giggling again. Somehow when it's us doing the giggling it doesn't annoy me at all, but girls giggling drive me nuts. We get dressed and then see Chubby in the kitchen wearing only tighty/whitey jockey underwear. He's taking Tylenol and washing it down with OJ right from the quart container. He stares at us, and I go, "What?" Chubby says, "You took another one of your marathon showers, didn't you?" I'm indignant, "I did not! I wasn't in the shower a lousy forty-five minutes before the apartment's hot water heater ran out of hot water. If I were you I complain to the office. The size of these hot water heaters is ridiculous." He's nodding his head, mumbling, "I told myself to take a shower last night 'cause my big brother is gonna use all the hot water this morning. That's what I told myself, but did I listen? No, I didn't." I ask, "How 'bout I make you a nice breakfast while the hot water heats up?" He says, "I'm thinking Kentucky Fried chicken." I go, "It's delicious alright, but the grease content makes me dizzy afterwards." He goes, "It makes everybody dizzy. Should we go and get dizzy?" Robby says, "Yeah, fried chicken's a nice change of pace from burgers." I ask, "Not for nothing, Chubby, but how come you stopped wearing clothes around the apartment?" He's got the hottest body! He says, "Whaddaya talking about? I wear clothes. I'm just taking some Tylenol before getting dressed. Anyway, where's my good morning kiss?" I give him a hug with a kiss on his lips and he says, "That's better, bro," and he goes into his bedroom, I assume to get dressed. On the other hand with Chubby you never know, he could just as easily go back to bed. One thing's for sure though, I did one hell of a good job training him to show brotherly affection. It's second nature to him now. The idea came from the Dicker's brothers of course. I ask, Robby, "What do you hear from Dodger and his sidekick, Connor?"
We pull on sweatshirts and go out on the balcony for a cigarette talking about the Army boys. They're both finishing up their medic training at Fort Sam Houston, Texas, doing excellently. Dodger's been what they call a 'purple hat', which means he's the assistant sergeant for the platoon or squad or whatever it's called he's a member of. He wears a band with stripes on his sleeve and a purple helmet liner instead of the camouflage one everyone else wears. Dodger's in charge of the trainees in his barracks whenever the real sergeant isn't around. He gets his own room too, but Connor's out on the floor in double bunks with everyone else. Dodger's outspoken personality and his intelligence is why he was chosen to be the assistant. Connor's intelligence got him in the same leadership preparatory extra week of training after basic that Dodger went to, but he just wasn't the in-charge type and didn't pass the course. Dodger's made sure that Connor was assigned his barracks though, and he looks out for him. Connor tells me in his emails he's never been on kitchen detail even once. And he's never been a dining room orderly either, which is the Army's terminology for trainees acting as 'waiters' serving meals to the sergeants. Dodger's assigns the details for the
barracks, posting lists of who's on those details every week, and there's one name missing from every list. They're both doing great, but there's a lot of time left in their two year enlistment and I can't help but wonder if they've had second thoughts about that every now and again.
When Chubby's dressed we take Robby's pickup to the Kentucky Fried Chicken restaurant in Lawrence, which is one of the towns bordering North Andover. There's some mean streets in Lawrence that a college boy might not want to be caught on, but this isn't one of them. In the restaurant we all order the four chicken pieces meal with original recipe coating for the fried chicken. It comes with artificial mashed potatoes and a dollop of thick artificial chicken gravy, a biscuit heavy with lard, and funny tasting cole slaw made with a dressing that's missing mayonnaise. At the table Robby tries the potatoes, then says, "Remind me again why we order this platter." Chubby goes, "Because we're trying to be the first people in the world to crack the code and determine what the artificial mashed potatoes and gravy are made of." I go, "Ditto the cole slaw dressing, but we like the fried chicken enough to tolerate the rest." Robby finishes his mashed potatoes, muttering, "Gruesome," and Chubby asks, "Why'd you eat them first?" Robby says, "So they
don't get cold." I grin because we'll all finish the gruesome mashed potatoes and the cole slaw too. We just like bitching about it."
I eat the fried chicken first, then the lard filled biscuit and by then I'm too dizzy to mind that the potatoes taste like paste with glue on top, and the cole slaw taste weirdly the way garbage might taste. Chubby's looking around the fairly crowded restaurant; then, disgustedly he goes, "Look at all the college students here. Everyone of them is on their cellphone. Nobody's talking to the people they're eating with. They're either texting someone else, reading their emails, playing a computer game, or talking to someone else." I say, "Maybe they're texting each other, bro. Did ya ever think of that?" He finishes a chicken wing, grease dripping off his fingers, and says, "Ya know, fifty years ago Albert Einstein predicted this would happen, or whenever it was he lived. He said one day he fears technology will surpass our need for human interaction and the world will have it's first ever generation of idiots." I say, "What'd he know? Did they even have TVs when
he was alive? What'd they do back then when they had a flat tire and couldn't call AAA on their cellphone? He's the idiot, cell phones rock." Robby laughs, "You may be the first person ever to say Einstein was an idiot, Dylan." I go, "Okay, so he's not an idiot, but after that theory of relativity thingie, which only eight or nine people in the world can understand anyway, what else did he ever invent?" Chubby goes, "I don't know, but the theory of relativity is supposedly kinda important. Physicist are still verifying the correctness of it." Robby says, "What's the string theory? Isn't that correcting something to do with Einstein's theory?" Chubby and I shrug, "Over our heads, Rob!" Chubby stands up and yells, "Who knows what the sting theory is?" I'm like, "Sit the fuck down, bro." He does, saying, "I got a dozen people to look up from their cell phones at least."
Our lunchtime conversation never elevated itself above that sort of discourse and we don't have Ears Henderson or his roommate to blame it on. Driving back to our apartment I ask Chubby, "Have you been looking for another job yet?" He quit the McDonalds job he had about the third week of the semester because he couldn't stand giving up his Friday nights. He's been threatening to get another part time job ever since. He goes, "I'm in between interviews at the moment. I'll get around to it, but I'm still flush with cash from the two jobs I worked last summer." He's right too. Chubby hasn't borrowed a dime from me in our sophomore year... not yet anyway. Back at the apartment Chubby and Robby get what they need for their afternoon activities. Chubby finally gets to take his shower, then brushes his teeth. He and John Beverly are taking dates to a movie matinee, then having dinner with them before checking out the mixer at the Knight's Of Columbus hall. Robby's washing his hands and face trying to talk me into going to Boston with him, Danny, and three other ball players. There's taking a tour of Fenway Park for
one thing, including the players locker rooms, the green monster, behind the center field wall where the guy who manually changes the score for each inning stays during the game, and other stuff. I go, "It sounds cool, Rob, but you'll be with your teammates and I'd feel like an outsider. It might be uncomfortable for the other guys having your roommate tag along." I think Robby appreciates the logic of my argument, and he goes, "Well, okay, but we'll probably eat dinner in Quincy market too. I'll look for you at the mixer. Can you get a ride?" I go, "Of course. I've got the Jeep tonight. Enjoy yourself, Rob." He leans over for a nice kiss, then says, "Thanks, I love you," and he hustles off, already a little late. Then Chubby leaves, giving me a hug, saying, "See you at the mixer, bro. John Beverly's waiting out front for me right now. Oh, I forgot to tell you that the Jeep's almost on empty, so if you're driving someplace that's just a heads up that you'll need to fill it with gas."
The door slams and it's quiet in the apartment. I put on a Counting Crows CD, then my jacket to have a smoke on the balcony and think about the three-way with Dougie and Jamie. Sure, a tour of Fenway Park sounds cool, but compared to a three-way with those two, well ya know. Plus, haircuts too which I really like to do, so okay! Then I think of this morning and the sex with Robby. I touch my right nipple remembering Robby rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger. Wow, that's the nipple with a nip ring and it gets very sensitive in the most awesome way. So, one good thing came out of that trip to New York. Funny I never heard from Billy. The only thing I can think of is that John cracked down on Billy's plans for him and me. He was hot and cute. Billy, not John, who I don't know what I saw in him in the first place. A rich narcissistic sadist. I wonder if that's a description for Ryan's fuckwad roommate, Marty, too. Then I rub my nipple some more thinking again of this morning's sex with Robby. It's always special and as crazy as this might sound, side-sex makes the sex with Robby seem even more special because it's a different level of sex. You add love to sex and that's a combo that can't be beat. Compared to side-sex it's a very different thing. Of course the plus for side-sex is the lack of commitment involved. It's strictly for giving and receiving sexual delights. Of course, random side-sex with just anybody wouldn't be good. You need to be attracted to the other person. I'd guess that just doing it with anyone for the sake of getting laid qualifies one as a nymphomaniac. I need my sex partner to be cute and sexy or at least one of those qualities. Also age appropriate, that's important too. That one time I did it with the older guy at the House Of Blues I had to be stoned on weed and cocaine before I could do it. Not good! A lesson well learned right there... don't get stoned with anyone you don't think is age appropriate, cute, and sexy. Like the time I got stoned with Tom Love. He certain qualified for side-sex, stoned or not, while the House of Blues guy didn't. What the fuck, one mistake in twenty years is a pretty good batting average.
My cell phone beeps so I fish it out of my pocket and see it's from Sonny boy. Flicking my cigarette butt off my forehead, cursing and rubbing the ash off my forehead, I answer, "Yo, Sonny, wassup?" He goes, "My brother texted you for a haircut." I go, "Yeah, Devon texted me, so what? I told him I'll see him and the posse boys next Saturday. I'm staying on campus this weekend because there's a mixer tonight that we're all going to." He says, "Oh, that reminds me, I want you to teach me to dance next weekend. I asked some twat to go to the holiday dance the week after next, but I don't know how to dance." I ask, "You're gay, so why didn't you ask a guy?" He goes, "Because, obviously, nobody else is bringing a guy as their date and I don't wanna stand out." I'm like, "You always stand out, Sonny." He chuckles, "Yeah, that's true, I'm hot, but I don't want to stand out more than I already do." I say, "I was referring to your orange hair, nitwit." He's like, "Be nice, Dylan, you know you have a wicked crush on me and that reminds me, next Friday night at your place, seven o'clock. You be there and I'll give you a haircut and then dominate your ass sexually until you're a whimpering pussy. Then you'll show me how to fast dance real cool like and slow dance real sexy like. You'll probably get turned on all over again when we're slow dancing, but that can't be helped." I go, "That sounds delightful, Sonny, except this time I'm definitely not letting you cut my hair." "Why not?" "Well, because, um, well, my boyfriend insists that he's gonna do it, and I promised him." He laughs, "Yeah, right, whatever. Just be there. I gotta go," and I hear nothing but a buzzing sound. That little bastard hung up on me. Anyway I finally put my foot down on the haircut situation. I want Ryan and me to both have buzz cuts, and as hot as Sonny is with the haircutting, Ryan doing it is kinda special. That's, of course, if he's even allowed out of his fucking room. That asshole fuckwad Marty! Something's gotta be done about that situation.
Now I get a text from Dougie, 'We're waiting for our mentor to give us haircuts and fuck us.' Right there is an enticing text message! Wait'll they find out we're doing it bareback too, heh heh. I go in and clean up as much as I can, then I tell myself, 'No short cuts, Dylan', and get undressed to take a quick shower. What's an extra five minutes! I gotta be squeaky clean for the boys although I'm not expecting the same from them. Okay, showered and dried and dressed, I've got both earrings on, the small hoop ones, like a pirate, Willie's cross necklace is hanging outside the tee-shirt so it'll show. I put on a long sleeve shirt over the tee-shirt unbuttoned. The roll the sleeves up to my elbow. This is always a cool look. I'm wearing skinny jeans that are too long so they bunch a little at my sneakers. Also the sport watch Willie bought me goes on my wrist and the ring Chubby gave me is on my right hand and Robby's ring on my left. Then the cool leather bracelet which was another gift from Willie. I really outta go on some more dates with Willie to add to my accessories. That's a joke folks. Actually, now that I'm free to explore a tad more side-sex without a guilty conscience I would kinda like an over-nighter with Willie. It'd be like an awesome trip down memory lane. I kinda miss being adored and worshipped while at the same time dominated in embarrassing ways. That's not totally fair to Willie though. The embarrassing things he insisted I do were things like holding hands in public, walking with his arm around my waist, kissing in public, and other things that hetero couples do routinely. Ordering my food for me at restaurants is one of the things Willie insisted on doing which probably wouldn't apply to hetero couples. Anyway it's these types of things Willie taught me to accept that now I do routinely without being embarrassed. He was a boy ahead of his time, or my time. And generous! Holy shit that boy is generous. Of course it's not his money, but still...
Okay, looking at myself in the mirror and yep, I'm cool. I'm liking this regular buzz cut too. An oldie but goodie. Ryan did a damn good job with this haircut. Ah yes, Ryan. What are we gonna do about Ryan? Still checking myself out in the mirror and huh, no brag, but buzz cuts look good on me, even too short ones like this. Okay, enough of that, grabbing a fresh pack of cigarettes and my satchel, the small one I use for overnight trips, I put the toiletry kit with all my barbering stuff inside the satchel along with six cold Rolling Rock beer bottles. Jingling my keys to the Jeep, and I'm off. I really should wear a coat except coats aren't cool, so I'd rather suffer the cold than be uncool. I'm not just dressing for Jamie and Dougie tonight, but also for the mixer later on as well. I'm thinking I'll go for a cool, but aloof attitude at the mixer. I drive past the campus to get gas at the BP station up route 114 a little way past Merrimack, and then it's a three minutes drive back down the same road and I'm on the campus going by Ryan's dormitory. Hmmm, putting the Jeep in neutral I stare at the second floor window I know is his. No movement in the window. Taking out my cellphone I text Ryan, 'Hi! Everything okay, buddy? Dylan'. Getting out of the Jeep I light a cigarette staring at the cellphone. The text has been 'delivered' so I watch for the 'read' notice, but it doesn't come on. Fuck! That doesn't tell me anything except his cell phone is working. Screw it! I'm going up there. The front door to the building is open until midnight and right inside the foyer I run smack into Freddie Holmes, the UK lad from London. Literally ran into him and almost knocking us both down. He grabs me, steadying himself yelling, "Arsehole! Are you bladdered, mate?" Then he sees it's me and gives me a big smile, excitedly saying, "The dog's bollocks! It's my mate, Dylan!" I say, "Hiya, Freddie. Sorry to run into you like this. I wasn't watching where I was going."
Freddie's my size with lots of light brown wavy hair, sexy eyes and mouth with the cutest grin that he shows off a lot. It's as if everything amuses him. I've seen him a number of times the past couple of months and I'm never sure if he's teasing me about me being gay, or himself maybe being gay or bi, or then again, maybe he's straight. He told me he doesn't have a girlfriend, and as far as I know he hasn't been dating guys or girls from Merrimack. I ask, "How ya been, Freddie?" He says, "Aces, mate. Hey, how come you never ring me up like you said you would." I go, "I'm shy about calling people." He laughs, "You shy? I don't think so." I'm staring at his hair and he sees where I'm looking so he runs his fingers through his long hair, mumbling, "Yeah, you noticed, huh? I've neglected getting a haircut because I don't know where to go. Guys tell me to try Supercuts, whadda you think?." I go, "That's bollocks, Freddy. I told you ten times to stay clear of Supercuts 'cause those woman only know how to cut women's hair. You know damn well I'll give you a fuckin' free haircut and, dude, I'm good at it." He runs his hand over my head, "Yeah? Well, what if I told you I'm afraid of your idea of a cool hair style?" I go, "Fuck that, don't go by my haircut. I didn't give myself this buzz cut. I can give you any kind of haircut you want." He shrugs, "It might be fun at that, but would I be safe in your barber's chair, you being a poof and all." I say, "Fuck a whole bunch of poof's!" He laughs, "There an idea alright." I go, "I'd just like to get my fingers in that mop of hair on your head and make it look good." He laughs and gives me his cute grin, then takes my wrist and puts my hand on his head, "Feel away, Dylan." My hand closes on a fistful of his hair and I give a little tug, smirking at him. He's looking me in the eyes not saying anything while standing too close to me, in my space you might say. I continue tugging at his hair for only a couple of seconds of silence, but it seems much longer to me, and I need to resort to my old standby, a fake cough or two. Finally he mumbles, "I might like a haircut after all, but ya gotta ring me up when you're free." I tug on his hair again with him smirking at me, then a sexy 'look' from Freddie keeping his head still. His eyes close a bit, and damn he's looking fucking hot and sexy. He continues staring into my eyes as calm and relaxed as anybody could possibly be, especially considering I'm pulling his hair. I feel self-conscious all of a sudden so I let go off his hair, then pat it back in place while doing another one of my fake coughs, then muttering, "Nice hair, Freddie." Big grin from Freddie, but he still doesn't say anything.
For something to say, I ask, "So, you're gonna let me give you a haircut, huh?" He ignores that, shrugs and asks, "Where were you going in such a hurry just now?" I go, "Oh, I wanna check on a friend of mine. He's in the dorm room next to yours." He goes, "Oh fuck, I'm not next to your friend's dorm now. I got my dorm room changed. My arsehole roommate was bladdered all the time, honking all over the room every other day. The room smelled like puke most of the time." I'm like, "Oh, that really sucks. Do you like your new roommate?" He says, "I haven't got one at the moment. I had one, a black bloke, but the lad flunked out at midterm. I'm just a lonely lad in a room all by myself now." Nodding my head, I'm thinking, 'Ah ha, a potential roommate for Ryan'. It's disconcerting though that those sexy eyes of Freddie's
never stop looking right into mine. I mumble, "Oh, um, huh... that's too bad." He grins, but still doesn't say anything so for something to break the awkward silence, I ask, "Um, you going to the mixer tonight?" And notice again Freddie's standing too close to me, we're almost touching. It's not that I mind, except I guess it's making me a little uncomfortable because he's so fucking calm and cool about it. Freddie asks, "What about the mixer? Oh, you wanna know so you can ask me to dance, right?" I say, "Um, ha! Um, no! I mean sure, why not?" He shrugs, "I'm a bit too knackered for dancing actually." I mumble his word, "Knackered?" and he asks, "Are you a good dancer?" and now both his hands are straightening my long sleeve shirt that got pulled off one shoulder when we collided. He smells good, but he won't stop staring me in the eyes and he ignores most of my questions, asking a question of his own. Disconcerting, but there's something about him I'm attracted too and I like being with him. That cool confident stare though, finally I advert my eyes, and mumble, "Oh, am I a good dancer? Huh, ha ha, um, yeah, I am as a matter of fact. No brag, but yeah I'm good." He's grinning, knowing he's making me uncomfortable. "Yeah, I bet you are." I swallow noisily, then do two more fake coughs and step back just a little. He asks, "Got a bit of a cold, do ya?" I go, "Ha ha, nah, something's caught in my throat."
Freddie says, "Ya know what, you and me should go on the piss sometime and get to know each other better. You're easily the most interesting person I've met in America so far. Ya wanna do that?" I go, "Um, you want us to take a piss together?" He laughs, "Don't be dim, mate! Go drinking, get pissed, that's if you know some place we can buy a few pints in this buttoned-down American society. I'm twenty so not of legal age here." I go, "Dude, that'd be fun. Have you been to Tracy's yet?" He shakes his head a little, and asks another question off topic, like he often does, "Do you have a boyfriend, Dylan?" I go, "A boyfriend? Um, yeah, why?" He goes, "Oh, no reason. Just wondered," and he cocks his head to the side a little still staring at me. I blush and he chuckles, ruffling the short hairs on my head, mumbling, "You're awesomely cute, aren't you?" He's really got me flustered by now. I gulp trying to say, "So are you," but it comes out more like a gasp and he laughs again, "So, we're gonna get pissed together one of these nights, right?" I nod my head, "Yeah, sure," and he pats my shoulder, saying, "Good, it'll be fun, but I gotta get going now. Ring me, okay? Nice running into you, Dylan, literally," and he gives me a quick hug, the side of his face grazing mine. He goes, "See ya," and he's out the door leaving me with half a hard-on. What the fuck do I make of that? I know he's having fun teasing me about being gay, or is he coming on to me a little? Damn, he's hot! Unfortunately he recently shaved or I'd probably have a full blown boner in my pants now instead of this half a boner. Freddie had the coolest curly beard a couple of the times I've seen him. It's not a full beard by any means, but still way cool. I adjust my junk, then open the door looking outside, but he's gone from view. Hmmm, that's interesting. Love his accent too. Obviously he means get drunk together when he says we should get pissed. Why the fuck did I ask if he meant take a piss together. Wishful thinking maybe.
Oh well, maybe something will develop if I 'ring' him up... ha ha. I go up the steps and put my ear against Ryan's door. They're in there because I can hear some murmuring, but can't make out what's being said. No one's shouting anyway, so that's good. Should I knock? It might get Ryan in trouble if I do. Smelling the back of my hand I try to decide if I should knock, and then the door opens and fuckwad, Marty, says, "Dylan! What the fuck you doing here?" I go, "Oh, um, I was just about to knock. Um, you know, ah, are you guys going to the mixer tonight? I was just, ah, oh yeah, I was wondering if you need a ride. You know, since Ryan's car's getting fixed so, I... heh heh, just wondered." He's looking at me like I'm crazy. Then he asks, "Why not just text one of us?" At least he's being more pleasant then the last couple of times we've talked. I go, "I was on campus to, um, well yeah, I could have texted, yeah, heh heh," and I shrug feeling like a dork. Marty makes me nervous. He pats my shoulder, "Well, we're not going out tonight, but thanks for the offer." I'm trying to look past him to see Ryan, "Ah, is Ryan in?" Marty's out into the corridor now, pushing me back and closing the door behind him, "Yeah, Ryan's in. He's busy right now though, tied up with something, ya could say. You know how it goes. Nice seeing you again," and he's sort of walking me over to the steps with him staying between me and the dorm door, and then he walks down the steps with me. At the front door, he says, "I'll tell Ryan you were asking for him. See ya," as he opens the front door of the building. I look back up the steps, but Marty won't move so what the fuck can I do. I nod, "Yeah, thanks," but what the fuck am I thanking him for. First Freddie and now fuckwad, Marty, and both of them getting me discombobulated. It's times like these where my lack of confidence rears it's ugly head. I'm much better in that department than I used to be, but there are times like these that I fold like a cheap suit, and what the fuck does that mean? A cheap suit? It doesn't make any sense! Okay, like usual, I'll think of what I should have said, but it's a little late. So fuck it!
Lighting a cigarette and walking to the Jeep, I'm thinking, 'Ryan's busy? That's just fucked! Who says someone's busy? You say ,'Yeah, go on in and say hello', or, 'He's studying for an exam, not 'He's busy', and that 'tied up' remark. Busy doing what and what's tying him up?? That's a couple of questions I should have asked the fuckwad. I text Ryan again, but still no return text. I know it's delivered so his phone is on, but neither of my texts gets read. Why not? Shit, I should go right back up there and insist on seeing Ryan, but what if Marty just says, 'NO!' What do I do then? It could be embarrassing as hell. I guess I need more information before I barge into their dorm room like the FBI or something. Leaning against the Jeep I smoke the whole cigarette watching the front door of their dorm, but no one comes in or goes out. Anyway, where was the fuckwad going when he came out and
saw me in front of his door? He couldn't have known I was outside his door. Checking my cellphone one last time, I flick my cigarette butt off the Jeeps windshield and get in the driver's side. As I get in, I'm thinking I need to regain some dignity before seeing Dougie and Jamie. First Freddie gets me flustered and then Marty punks me out by ushering me outside without letting me talk to Ryan. I feel bad that I let that happen.
Putting a piece of gum in my mouth to eliminate the nicotine breath, I drive to Dougie's and Jamie's dorm's parking lot and park next to Dougie's red Ford Focus, then grab the satchel with the things I need in it. Looking over I see Dougie at the front door of his dormitory waving at me. I wave my free hand to let him know I see him and then walk over. He's a skinny kid wearing only a tee-shirt and cargo pants. His thin arms are crossed on his chest likes he's cold and no wonder, it's like thirty degrees. The closer I get to him the more exotic he looks. His dark brown hair looks black against his pale complexion. When I'm on the brick walk leading to the front door I can see Dougie's big green eyes now and his sexy facial features with those sleepy eyelids of his. He has the narrow eyebrows I like, and curving eyelashes surrounding his eyes. Ahh, yes, there's that birthmark, or beauty mark, on his right cheek bone. God that's sexy. Now he's smiling behind the back of his hand he's smelling. When I'm up the steps he drops his hand and says, "Hi, Dylan," then kisses me with his puffy red lips and I catch a whiff of his scent. It's a sexy stale scent, like maybe he needs a bath. I'd be happy to accommodate. I go, "Hi, yourself. Did you know I picked up that habit from you?" He opens the door for me and follows me in, asking, "What habit?" I show him by smelling the back of my wrist and he says, "I can't break it myself. I've been doing that as long as I can remember. And ya know, I like the way I smell." I go, "Which way do we go?" and he's like, "Oh, heh heh, right. Our room's down the corridor on the right."
When I was standing in front of him I noticed sexy dark peach fuzz on his upper lip, chin, and under both sideburns, so I ask him, "You shaving yet, Dougie?" For some reasons he laughs at that, then says, "No, why?" I shrug, "Just wondered," and he goes, "Jamie should shave, but he's too lazy. We have that in common, we're both lazy," and he laughs again. Is he nervous? He's smelling the back of his hand again, mumbling, "We're lazy about taking showers too. We call ourselves the grunge duo because we hate the communal showers. It's awkward, ya know?" Then he takes hold of my arm, he's a touchy/feely type, and says very seriously, "Dylan, you don't know what a huge favor you did for Jamie and me by taking me to the housing office. We're in love, dude. My first love." He's standing in front of what I assume is his dorm room. I go, "Your first love? You expect to move on to many more loves after Jamie?" He laughs yet again and it definitely seems like a nervous laugh reminding me that both these guys are very immature. They're both the only child in their families, pampered and spoiled, plus they were born on the same day, two states apart. Now they're roommates. Ha, Robby thinks I'm
immature. I'll introducing him to these two. We're standing here with Dougie tapping on the door, telling me, "I forgot my key." I ask, "Haven't you guys gotten haircuts since the one I gave you over three months ago?" He chuckles this time, then says, "We were waiting for you," and the door opens and there's Jamie with a cigarette between his teeth.
Jamie has a baby face with a scruffy short curly light brown beard that grows naturally in the manner some guys shave their beards. Soft baby whiskers the width of his sideburn hair. The beard goes down to his jaw and follows his jaw line, across his chin, and along the other jaw line, and up to meet his other sideburn. Cool! Oddly there's hardly any growth on his upper lip or cheeks. His cheeks are hairless and pink. Lots of light brown wavy hair on his head and, incongruously, he has eye make-up and false eyelashes. He's also used an eyebrow pencil to draw a beauty mark on his cheek like Dougie's. Both boys are five foot, eight inches or there about. Like I said, a very slim body on Dougie, but a more sturdy body on Jamie, although he's no where near stocky. He's got a hot body actually now that I look at him closer. Jamie takes his cigarette out, and says, "Hi, you," and he too kisses me on the lips. It's the kind of thing these too would talk about and plan ahead for: 'What greeting do you think we should give Dylan?' like that. I say, "Yeah, hi. When'd you start smoking?" He goes, "I took it up out of self defense because Dougie was always smoking in here." I'm like, "Oh yeah? You know there's no smoking in the dormitories, right?" Jamie pulls me inside with a hold on my arm, saying, "Yeah, but fuck 'em. We're outsmarting them," and he nods his head to a big window fan that's blowing out acting as an exhaust fan. I go, "Isn't a little chilly having the window open like that?" And he nods to a space heater under the fan. I mumble, "Good thing you don't need to pay the electric bill. Those things are energy hogs. A space heater that big is using at least 5000 watts an hour." Jamie shrugs, asking, "Should we all get naked now?" I look at him, then Dougie. They're both staring at me, their eyes big.
to be continued... Donny Mumford thinkat20@yahoo.com
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I have had some books published and they are available on Amazon . Actually one book and one short story. The short story is titled "Concealed Agony - Gay Romance" (and I didn't pick that title.) Read the 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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