Dylan's Sophomore Year

DYLAN'S SOPHOMORE YEAR

CHAPTER 5

by Donny Mumford

After suffering through this morning's orientation, Robby, Ryan, and me had lunch at Five Guys. That's a burger restaurant, but not your typical fast food joint. Everything is cooked to order at Five Guys. The burgers we had were outstanding, but what a pain in the ass it was getting to their location in Peabody! The traffic was a nightmare. We don't know of another Five Guys anywhere closer so we'll probably tolerate the traffic and go to this one again some time because the burgers were that good. After dropping Ryan off at his dorm Robby wants to take a nap. We haven't been getting much sleep since we moved into the apartment due to the fact we've been partying pretty hardily, meaning drinking too much beer. That happens in the early days at college each year, but things will calm down when we get into the flow of attending classes and studying and all the other educational stuff. The so-called book learning part of college life... it puts a serious damper on other activities, fer sure. Anyway, I'm thinking that getting in bed with Robby for a nap might lead to something sexy, but no, it turns out to be just a nap. I wake up around five o'clock feeling groggy. Robby's already up

and I hear him talking to someone in the living room, but can't make out what he's saying. Since I only hear his voice he must be on the phone, unless he's talking to himself. In the bathroom I wash my hands and face, then brush my teeth trying to wake up. As I'm drying my hands my own cell phone chirps. It's a text from Cory, 'Are you settled in yet?' Cory wants a haircut which is cool, but it's what else he might want that worries me. It might be a problem for me because I'm cutting back on my side sex. I can't let Robby down for one thing, and now with Ryan and me being sexually active again, cutting back on other side sex is the right move to make. I've gotta start somewhere so if Cory suggests we do it, that's where I'll begin my mission of cutting back. The problem with that is, Cory's sensitive and he's just now finally coming out of his shell so I wouldn't want to do anything to hamper his progress. He's still a logical starting point for me to begin

cutting back though. I say that seemingly contradictory statement because he and I have only delved into buddy sex on a very limited basis, experimentally let's say, so there's no real history between us in that regard. I'm not even sure he wants to do it again, but if he does I'll let him down easy explaining Robby and I have made a serious commitment to each other. It seems logical when I say it, but sometimes things aren't as simple as they sound. Hmmm, first I should find out what my main man, Robby, has planned for us tonight. I'll do that before I text Cory back. It's kinda cool having Robby making the decisions for me because he can be my excuse. Well not an excuse exactly, but if Robby has plans for us I'll just tell Cory I'd love to except Robby wants me to do... whatever. Sounds easy, but like I said, nothing's usually as simple as I think it's going to be . When I go into the living room I find Robby on the couch texting. I'd like to know who he's texting but don't pry. He looks up, "Oh, hi, baby! Um, I was just talking to your twin on the phone. We, that is, I decided it'd be a good idea if Ryan and me had dinner together and afterward, you know, we'll have his and my sexy night together, um, for the week. You and me quite nicely have sexually christened our sophomore year already, so you know, it's sorta Ryan's turn." I don't comment, so he asks, "Don't you agree it's important Ryan feels confident we're all officially into the threesome again?" I stare at him trying to think how I feel about this. I mean, I knew it was part of the threesome concept and I thought I was fine with it, but now I'm not so sure. He goes, "Do you mind?" It'll be stupidly unfair of me to complain about this since Ryan and I have already had our sexy reunion together. Somehow though I can't think of an appropriate thing to say, so Robby stands up and says, "Well, shit! You and Ryan already christened the threesome and I didn't throw a wet blanket on that." I stare at him like a moron and he says, "So tonight he and I will do the same. I'm surprised you're acting like this, you've been fine with everything until now." I'm finally able to speak, "Yeah, I've made it through a whole day and a half." He's a little pissed off, "Tonight it's Ryan and me. I'm sorry if that upsets you, but that's the way it's going to be." He looks at me as I shrug, still unable to think of anything meaningful to say for some reason. Then I whine, "I just got up, Rob, don't jump down my throat. Sure, it's fine with me. God, why are you so bitchy?" He softens his expression coming over to give me a hug, "I'm sorry, Dylan. I love you and don't want to hurt you. Are you sure it's okay? I'll break-up the threesome right now if you're not into it. What the hell, we'll all just be buddies if that's what you want. We all know you're the one who's really in charge anyway, not me. So you tell me, what do you want me to do?" Again I stare at him stupidly.

I'm thinking, hmmm, Robby seems very sincere about abandoning the threesome. That's if I say so, where as if he were a more nefarious person I might think it's merely a clever move on his part to put me in a bind like this... turn the tables on me, so to speak. He clearly saw how Ryan and I had the hot's for each other during the three-way sex-a-thon. Frankly, it's like our relationship hardly missed a beat after Ryan's ten weeks absence, and there's no realistic way we could continue our, um, buddy sex to the degree we're into it without me suffering massive guilt trips unless it's within the threesome umbrella. Taking a deep breath, I mutter, "What are you talking about, Rob? You're our leader so if you say tonight's your's and Ryan's night I'm totally on board with that. No problem, but I just woke up and, ya know, so..." He hugs me, "Thanks, Dylan! Actually I'm glad you're a little jealous because I'm a little jealous when it's just you and him. If we weren't a little jealous of each other I'd worry about our true love affair. The big picture is, we're sowing our wild oats and getting it out of our system when we're young. Right?" Okay, right there! Again I could think a devious individual was throwing my own line back in my face, but Robby's not devious. I go, "I know, and I love you too, Robby. I'm a baby sometimes, you know that. A spoiled brat." He goes, "No! You're not a baby, and you're not a spoiled brat either. Whatever would make you even say something like that?" He just did it again. That could be interpreted as sarcasm if it came from a less sweet and sincere person than Robby. I shrug, "Huh! Yeah, well we're good. Have fun tonight. Um, where ya going for dinner?"

He lets go of me doing his own shrug, "I don't know, I haven't decided yet. What are you gonna do tonight?" I hold up my cell phone, mumbling, "Cory texted me a couple minutes ago wanting a haircut. I guess I'll hang out with him tonight." He gives me a look, then goes, "Is he, um? No, it's none of my business. Say hi for me. I'm going to take a shower now. We're good, right, you and me?" I say, "You're the boss," and he mutters, "Yeah, right," and with a little wave of his hand he goes into our bedroom. I wander out to the balcony, light a cigarette, and lean up against the railing trying not to think about anything. Looking down I see a girl and guy making-out amongst the trees. She's leaning against a tree with the guy leaning against her as they kiss and he rubs her tit's. Funny how that's a big turn off to me. The mind is a funny thing and the unconscious part of the mind is even a little scary and mysterious. We're slaves to it's wishes and desires, fooling ourselves into thinking we have free choice about stuff when we're actually majority influenced by unknown factors. Billions of little factors and experiences of our individual minute by minute existence. These influences are gathered and registered in our minds. They come from our individual environments starting from birth. Uncountable influences stored in our unconscious helping to dictate our behavior. Everything's effected, including repressed feelings, automatic skills like Robby with baseball, subliminal perceptions, all kinds of thoughts we have over the years, habits, automatic reactions, complexes, phobias, desires, and who the fuck knows what else. The unconscious is a vast repository of forgotten memories. Yeah, maybe I'll chose to blame that for the way I am. I mean, why not? Am I consciously gay or consciously oversexed because I decided that's how I'll be. I don't decide shit, it's already decided for me by my unconscious mind and every single person who's ever lived has a different set of factors influencing their unconscious minds. No two have exactly the same inputs and then there's the randomness of genes mixing together, like forever, from cave men through untold numbers of sexual encounters that in my case ended up being little ol'

me. The same is true for Robby, or anyone. So what am I to make of this? Actually I don't have a fucking clue. All I can do is decide if I want to try being happy with what I've got, and I think I've got a lot, or be negative and concentrate on what I don't got... and fuck being grammatically correct.

Huh, that was a fun exercise, not! I don't know why I get introspective like this when all I can do is make the best of the way things are, and that's

exactly what I'm going to do... make the best of it. There, I feel better!

It's life and life only, and what's so bad about my life anyway? Nothing, that's what. Okay, what is it exactly that I've decided from all this? Hmmm, fuck if I know. Chubby pats me on the back and I jump a foot in the air, 'Wha? Oh, ha ha, hi Chubby," and I hug him. "It's so comforting to know I can always count on you, can't I, Chub?" He goes, "Of course, but what's wrong, Dylan. Who's ass needs kicking? I'm ready and able." I go, "I'm sure a lot of people need their ass kicked, but no one I know of at the moment. What's up with you?" He lights a cigarette, muttering, "Just my date with the bimbo tonight, the one John Beverly introduced me to. We're double dating and going to somebody's party. The sophomore year is really getting off the ground with a big bang for me." As he talks, I'm texting Cory. Then I tell Chubby, "Cory Dunlevy's coming over for a haircut tonight." Chubby asks, "Do you like cutting guy's hair? It doesn't appeal to me personally. I mean, when I was giving you haircuts it was cool, but cutting random peoples' hair? Nah, not for me." I say, "Yeah, well we have different repositories of forgotten memories." He frowns, 'What the hell does that mean?" I go, "Oh, nothing. Even though we've got different repositories you and me still like and dislike a lot of the same things because we've experienced many of the same input factors while growing up together. We both have many of the same positive memories, remembered or forgotten, of each other too, and that's why we love each other so much." He drags on his cigarette, then talks with smoke coming out of his nose and mouth, "I wish I had a pen and some paper so I could write all this shit down. I might be able to use it for a term paper in one of my courses." I grin at him, "Fuck you, bro." He rubs my head, grinning back, muttering, "Whatever. Hey, you got the love part right, Dylan. That's the important part."

Flicking my cigarette butt off the railing and then kicking it off the balcony I read Cory's reply. He wants to know what time and he also needs directions for getting here. As I'm texting that information I think of Ryan's wispy whiskers and randomly say, "Isn't it weird, Chubby, that we haven't grown any whiskers yet?" He says, "It's a blessing, bro, shaving seems like a pain in the ass. I guess it is unusual though, now that you mention it. You know, some Asian guys can't grow whiskers until they're like seventy-five years old or something. Then all they're hair turns white and they grow a two foot long white beard overnight. That's weirder than us not having whiskers." I go, "Yeah it would be except what you just said is total bullshit." He shrugs, "I think I read that somewhere, or maybe it was a joke someone told me, what the fuck. Well, whatever, I gotta get ready for my date," and he flicks his butt way out almost hitting the couple making-out against the tree. I chuckle as he goes, "Oops." We bump fists and Chubby goes inside. I sit on one of the outdoor chairs feeling better. Chubby always makes me feel better. I gotta remember his bullshit story about seventy-five year old guys growing a two-foot white beard overnight, hee hee. Looking at the sky I see it's clouding up and it's probably going to rain. I hope Chubby's party is indoors. Cory texts back asking what a two foot white beard has to do with my directions? Haha, I must have typed that unconsciously listening to Chubby's tale. Then Ryan texts me... he says he nagged Rob into making tonight 'their' night, and then he tells me he and I are getting together some time tomorrow. I'm not the only oversexed guy in town, but I gotta straighten Ryan out about something. He's not the boss of me like he thinks he

is. That's only during sex. For now I texts back that I hope they have fun

tonight and we'll have to see what tomorrow brings. I say that, but I really do want to experience more of what Ryan laid on me during the three-way last night. Jesus, that was so hot! So, it was Ryan's idea for him and Rob to get together tonight. Huh. Okay, that's better than the other way around I suppose. Yesterday I didn't feel jealous at all, so what's with today I wonder? Fucking subconscious part of my brain is rearing it's ugly head again.

Inside I look in the refrigerator hoping there's a beer that we missed last night, but no luck. Robby comes out looking good. I say, "Whoa, you look good enough to eat," and he smiles, "Thanks, you do too. You look good enough to eat all the time." I put my arm around his waist, saying, "Sorry for my pout a little while ago. I'll be a good fiancé from here on out." He kisses me, "You're always good, Dylan. I wouldn't want you to change anything about yourself. You're perfect the way you are." I mutter, "You too, Robby." Damn, he's good looking. He rubs my hair, "You're hair is growing fast, Dylan. You'll be ready for a haircut next week." I ask, "What kind of haircuts are we gonna rock this year?" He shrugs, "You're my expert on that. I already told you that, so what should it be?" I say, "I'll give it some thought, but not burrs or flattops. We've been there, done that. We'll do something else." He says, "Whatever you say, baby. Love ya," and we kiss on the lips. He goes, "Give Cory my best and invite him over for dinner. We'll eat here tomorrow night and have a little party to celebrate our last night before classes begin." I go, "You got it, boss." He gets his keys, and as he's going out the door, he goes, "Pick up a case of beer before tomorrow night. See you in bed a little later, Dylan. Love ya." I watch him go, really liking the idea of Robby and me sleeping together for months and months to come. Hmmm, it sorta admirable he didn't use the excuse of Ryan nagging him to make tonight their night. No cop-out, he just told me tonight is their night. Hope they don't get caught in the rain, hee hee.

I'm on my computer checking stuff out when Chubby comes in to say goodbye. We do a quick as a wink kiss on the lips. Huh, Chubby does it without thinking about it now. It took me almost twenty years to get him trained like that, ha ha. Damn, I love him so much. I'm so lucky he's been in my life forever and I love living with him in this apartment. Maybe when I'm married Chubby could live with Robby, me, and the baby. He and Dodger will be the baby's godfathers so it's not that crazy of an idea. Man, I really like the idea of being married to Robby too. You know, kissing him goodbye when he's going off to work, Chubby too. I'll be the chief cook and bottle washer and the baby's prime caregiver too. Our son will love me more than Robby probably, mostly because I'll be the one taking care of him. I didn't have a father so I don't know if that's what happens or not, but I'm assuming he'll be closer to me. I'm not even considering a nanny at this point, not since Robby says no to that idea. Well, all that won't be happening for two years, but still I think it's healthy that I have the right attitude before we get to the point we're actually married and have the baby. A lot of guys wouldn't be okay with being a stay at home dad because it's not manly or macho, but I have a good grip on who I am, and with Robby the head of the household, I'm perfectly happy to let him run things. And the threesome is a damn good vehicle for learning to accept my role in that regard too. Tonight for example, Robby made the decision, didn't make excuses for it and I bent to his decision after a little pout. By the time we get married pouting about something that it isn't exactly the way I want will be a thing of the past. I'll just say, 'Sure, Robby'. Yeah, that's how the threesome is beneficial and I wonder if that's part of Robby's thinking. He plans things ahead so it probably is. Head of the household... I love the thought of that. Robby will take care of everything and life will be so calm and relaxing for me, no worries because it'll be Robby who needs to take care of whatever there is to worry about. Nice being taking care of finally, and that's no reflection on my mom. She worked hard to give us a nice condo and it was a happy childhood. It's just that Chubby and I mostly took care of ourselves. I'm going to be conscientious about my duties as Robby's... Robby's what? I guess we're both each others husband. I'll get going on a daily routine for the baby when he comes. I should probably schedule his diaper change for the middle of the day and then Robby will want to bath the baby before bed, so that's another clean diaper. I'm leaning towards soft cloth diapers, not those paper ones. Okay, feed the baby breakfast and then wake him up for lunch and let Robby wake him up for dinner. Wait a minute, there needs to be some playtime for him. I'll get Robby to buy one of those baby swings you windup and it swings itself. Then when he's a toddler Robby will buy a big crib for the kid, not those small ones you see all the time. Give the baby space to practice walking in. I suppose I should check in on him a couple of times in the morning and then in the afternoon too, although babies sleep most of the time. They're like teenagers in that regard, or cats.

The front doorbell interrupts my planning. It's gotta be Cory, and it is. We hug hello and, like always, he's a little shy initially, "Um, I got lost in this apartment complex, Dylan. All the buildings look the same. Then I reread your directions and I finally got it right, so here I am." He's rubbing his hands together like they're cold. I go, "Well, it's really nice to see you, Cory," and I rub his hair, "Ready for a haircut?" He looks down muttering, "I wish my damn hair grew faster so I could get a haircut every week, so yeah I'm ready and eager." I hug his shoulders, saying, "I'm giving you a shampoo first. It's something I started doing last summer and most of the guys like it." He says, "I'm sure I will too, um, do you think we could

do, you know, after the haircut?" Holy shit, I didn't expect him to come right out with it. Jesus! I stare at him as his face turns dark red. Then he

mumbles, "I'm sorry to put you on the spot like that. I suck." I go, "No you don't!" Gee, all the things he did taking care of me when I was totally fucked up after the New York city trip. My best intentions sometime don't work out. so I quietly say, "Whatever you want, Cory, that's what we'll do." He's looking down biting his lip, muttering, "My fucking face is going to burst into flames any second now. God, I'm pathetic." I give him another hug, "Come on, I'll show you how I'm gonna shampoo your hair. I perfected this method to simulate being in a barbershop getting a shampoo. Lots of upscale barbershops routinely shampoo before the haircut." I'm walking him down the hall to my bedroom. He asks, "Do they?" and I say, "Well, I've never been in one, but I Goggled barbershops and, yeah, the upscale salons do shampoo's first. Some of them are ridiculously expensive too. Stupidly expensive

actually."

In the bathroom I place a straight-back chair facing away from the sink and tell him to take off his shirt, then have him sit down. Bare chested now I can see Cory's ribs and, what's this, a little hair on his chest between his pecs. Looking closely at his face, I ask, "Are you getting whiskers, Cory?" He blushes again, "Yeah, for over a year now. I shave because I wanna look young." I go, "My friend, Ryan, has whiskers that are sexy. I'll bet yours will be too." He looks up, "Ya think?" I go, "Yeah, I'm shaving every day trying to stimulate some whisker growth of my own. I didn't use to like whiskers or body hair but now I think some guys are sexy with both." He goes, "I've got some chest hairs," I reach over and lightly rub my fingers through his minimal chest hair, saying, "Cool and sexy, Cory." He rubs his face, "I just shaved, but I'll let my bread grow in some so you can see if you like it. There isn't much though." Hmmm, this isn't the direction I want our conversation to go, but he's so fucking likable! Okay, I'll start eliminating some side sex with someone else, not Cory. He's fragile and I don't want to see him regressing back to his angry-at-the-world self like he was when I first met him. And he's got CF on top of everything else he needs to deal with. I wonder what's in his repository of forgotten memories. It can't be good considering his shaky home life growing up. That's much improved now though, and thank God for that. His improved home life probably has a lot to do with Cory's reversal of personalities, he's much more outgoing then he ever was before. At least during the time I've known him that's true. As I run my fingers through his dry hair, for something to say, I ask, "How are your sisters doing?" He shrugs, "They're okay, sisters though. I wish I had a brother. Um, someone like you." I tip the chair back against the sink, saying, "Pretend we're brothers if you want." He grins, blushes, then mumbles, "Nah, then we couldn't do you know what." Back to that again. It's settled, I can't let Cory down, but I'm dropping the subject for now. The least I can do is not encourage him.

I wet his hair and when rubbing shampoo into his hair, I use both hands. I enjoy shampooing his hair and massaging his scalp while studying his face. He has average facial features that don't come together perfectly, but he's nice enough looking. I'll bet some whiskers will elevate his looks to maybe being a little sexy. He's such a sweet kid, I lean down and kiss his forehead. He grins and blushes again, murmuring, "Thanks, Dylan. Thanks for everything." Cory doesn't initiate any discussion and I've come to realize most guys tend to be quiet when I'm massaging their heads during the shampoo. It's relaxing and pleasant having your hair shampooed and being fussed over, and maybe they even find it sexy to some degree, even the straight guys. To me all slim guys around my age are generally sexy in some way or another. That holds true as long as they're not too tall or too short and there's no glaring fault like a high squeaky voice or unbearable personality, things like that. So in that regard Cory qualifies as sexy in a very general way. There are also some rare guys who I find extremely sexy for a variety of reasons that are specific to each guy. Things like cuteness, good hair, sexy eyes or lips, things like that, and sometimes I can't even pinpoint exactly why it is I find them sexier than most... I just do. In very rare cases guys can seem extraordinarily sexier than most, which is the case with Ryan and Robby... Chubby too if I'm honest about it. Their sexiness is off the charts for me while another gay guy might feel Robby's too pretty and Ryan's too nerdy and small to be sexy, or for other reasons. It's as subjective an opinion as any could possibly be. Fortunately I only need to please my view of what makes a guy sexy, and basically I couldn't care less about the opinion of others in that regard. I care what the opinions that others may have in a lot of subjects, just not about who's sexy.

I'm rubbing my fingers from the back of Cory's neck, up and over the top of his head, and then back, and then I do it from one ear over to the other. I like messin' with guy's hair. Perhaps I got attracted to this way back when I started messin' with Chubby's hair as a young kid. I didn't have a conscious understanding of how I loved Chubby back then. I didn't understand there was different ways to love someone, different degrees too. That began to change way back when I was seventeen and fat Carl showed me I like having sex with guys. Chubby and I as kids never did anything more sexy than jerking off together. In retrospect the revelation Carl showed me about me being gay didn't especially shock me or even surprise me all that much. I guess subconsciously I already knew I was gay. My love for Chubby wasn't ever a

lover's love, although it could be under the right circumstances. My love for him was and is an intense love that surrounds the concept of a lover's love, all around it's borders, but never exceeding it's borders. I love him as a best friend and brother with an intensity that I imagine few people have for someone who's not a lover. All this became clear to me only the past year or so when I realized I'm deeply in a true lover's love with Robby and so I know it's different than my love for Chubby. Neither is more or less important than the other, both are loved with all my heart and soul, but differently at the same time. I can't put these differences into words and it would take pages and pages of reasons and real rationalization to try explaining it. Honest rationalization, not convenient rationalizations like I make all the time having learned that skill from none other than my brother. In other words, describing the differences of the ways and reasons I love would be too difficult of a task to make it worth doing. It's enough that I know the difference myself. Proving it to others is not something I'm concerned with. I love Ryan too, but then I love lots of people, friends mostly, and family too. It's just that I love them differently, one from the other. For instance, I love Ryan mostly because of his incredibly hot sex and because I think he's a good friend. Like me, he's not perfect, for example I'm not always positive about his motives and I've wondered at times if he's being devious, but mostly I'm interested in having sex with him. That's especially true when he tricks up his dominant talents in ways I've never seen before. He did that yesterday during our three-way sex-a-thon. That was totally different and maybe he was just showing off for Rob, or proving something to me, not that I care very much about his motive. Whatever the reason for doing it, his dominant sex really made me feel good in the sexiest ways imaginable.

Well, I guess there's no logical way I can stretch this shampoo out any longer, plus I think Cory may have gone to sleep, ha ha. "Cory?" and his eyes flutter open and he looks around, then mutters, "This has been awesome, Dylan." He adjust the crotch of his jeans, adding, "I've never experienced anything like it before. It's been very pleasant and I get to smell your special aroma while you're massaging my head too. Wow, can you shampoo my hair every night?" He adjust his crotch again, pulling the material away from his body, "Heh, heh, I got a little woody going for me here, Dylan. Embarrassing," as he blushes again. "Just relax, Cory, nothing wrong with boners." He squirms a little in the seat as I begin rinsing the shampoo suds out of his hair. "What kind of haircut do you want?" He says, "Something I won't need to bother with, but not bristly like a buzz cut." I go, "You're hairs curly so it needs to be really short to be bristly. I've got this new haircut I've been doing for guys lately. I leave the hair's long enough to lay flat on top of your head, although your's will be wavy. And then the bangs are cut back off your forehead." He says, "That sounds okay to me. Does it cost

extra?" I go, "Afraid so, it's twice as much as normal." He chuckles, "Okay, it's probably worth it then." I say, "Hey, I could take that the wrong way, Cory. Are you insinuating my haircuts aren't worth anything?" He says, "Hell no, to me they're gold. Like I said, I wish I could get a haircut from you every week." I say, "You can if you want to, buddy." He smiles, "Nobody makes me feel as good as you, Dylan, nobody comes close." I'm roughly drying his hair with a towel leaving his scalp tingling. He says, "I got shivers from that. It feels good. Will you do that shoulder massage, please?" I go, "Of course, I like squeezing your body." First I use a brush and a hairdryer to get his hair very dry, then I massage his shoulders, the back of his neck, and up the back of his head with Cory's body becoming very loose and docile moving here and there at my touch. He goes, "Oooouuu, I got shivers again and look," He holds up his arms, adding, "I got goose bumps on my arms. Man, this feels good." I pat his shoulder, saying, "Come on, shivers, I'll do your haircut in the bedroom." I don't know why I said the bedroom. The tile floor in the kitchen is where it should be done. Oh well, there's hardwood floors in the bedroom which will be just as good as a tile floor.

In my bedroom I push back the throw rug so the cut hairs will fall on the hardwood floor and then pull the desk chair over and pat the seat. Cory sits down grinning, "Can you do my haircut real, real slow so it last a long time? I love quietly sitting here with you cutting my hair and squeezing my shoulder and moving my head around. I love it when you touch me!" I chuckle, "Okay, slow and quiet, right?" He nods his head, "Perfect." Cory has pretty blond curly hair. It's not excessively curly though, and when it's cut short it's not very curly at all. When I first met him it was kind of long and unruly, and curly. At times it can even look light brown rather than blond. It gets real blond in the summer from the sun. He was giving himself haircuts when I met him. Not butcher jobs either, and the curliness covered up mistakes he made so it looked okay. His hair's not perfect because he has a bit of a widow's peak and his hair isn't especially dense although the curliness gives the appearance of body. Also he has a pronounced cowlick at the crown of his head. A cowlick is that swirl of hair you see on some guy's heads. Some have it at the front hairline too. That's really unfortunate because there isn't anything you can do with that. It's a swirl of hair and it stands out, period. Cory's cowlick is at the back top, left side of his head. The curls covered it up when he had much longer hair.

Using scissors and comb I cut his hair slowly. It would take half the time if I used clippers, but I want to accommodate Cory's wishes. He sits docilely for me as the cut hairs drift to the floor around him. He's almost limp sitting in the desk chair, his skinny shoulders slumped with his hand clasped together in his lap. Curly blond hair clippings drift around him constantly landing on his shoulders, back, lap, and hands. It's very quiet, the only sound being the subtle crunch of scissors cutting through dry hair. The hair on the sides and back of his head are cut short and I keep the short theme cutting his hair over the crown of his head, subduing his cowlick in the process. With the hair on the sides and back of his head as short as they now are, the longer hairs on top look like a mop by comparison. Combing the top hair up and then holding the hairs between my forefinger and middle one I slice through the hairs with the scissors. It's taken twenty minutes by the time I'm combing up the curly bangs and cutting them back to the hairline. I just decided that this is the haircut I'm recommending to Robby for him, Ryan, and me. It also reminds me of Sonny's haircutting technique because, like Sonny, I used no clippers until I use the trimmer clippers to outline around Cory's ears. Like Sonny and Ryan's ears, Cory's stick out a little and I find this to be cute and very boyish. I pull on one of Cory's ears, saying, "I can't drag out the haircut any longer, Cory. It looks good on you." He looks up at me blushing again for reasons unknown. I kiss his lips which turns his pink blush to red. Chuckling I rub his head, "All done," as I reach to the desk for the handheld mirror that I hold out to him. Cory takes it and checks himself out, "Cool, Dylan. You cut hair awesomely, much better than I ever did."

I mumble, "I would think giving yourself a haircut a very hard thing to do."He rubs his fingers through his hair, all over his head, saying, "It's so even and neat. Sweet!" Squeezing the back of his neck, I say, "I'm gonna treat you to dinner tonight. We'll celebrate the beginning of a new year. I wanna suck up to my boss." Cory's my supervisor at Stop & Shop this year. He says, "You bought me dinner last time. It's my turn." I go, "That last dinner was a thank you dinner for saving my ass after my stupid trip to New York. This time it's to suck up to you, heh heh. That clueless woman in the office said you run a tight ship, so I wanna get on your good side." He chuckles, "Yeah, I'm a real tyrant. She's delusional." I say, "Anyway, I'm thinking of the 99 Restaurant. It's inexpensive, so this is no big deal." He shrugs, "I've never been in that place, but there are always a lot of cars in the parking lot so it must be pretty good." I'm brushing the hair clippings off Cory's body. His skin is dry and tight. Unfortunately with CF you don't get all the nutrients absorbed into your body from the food you eat. Cory needs to takes handfuls of pills everyday to help with that. He stands and brushes his lap and arms and now I see his pants poking out at the lap, so my touching apparently gave him another stiffy. Free of hair clippings, he helps me clean up the hair from the floor. When it's dumped into the waste basket and he looks at me as he sucks on his lips, then says, "Please." What can I do? I nod my head and wrap my arms around him, then kiss his mouth sloppily with him clinging to me moaning quietly. The name 'Seth' pops into my head. I've got to introduce Seth and Cory at the welcome home party this weekend. They're perfect for each other. They can have a contest to see who's sweeter. I'll judge the contest, although it'll probably be a tie. Cory's okay as a make-out partner, but I don't have any sexual heat for him so it's different than making out with guys I feel sexual heat for. I don't know why Cory's not sexier to me, I only know he's not. Having said that, I'm a huge fan of guys around my age generally speaking, so it's not that I don't enjoy making-out with Cory, it's just not very sexually arousing to me. He, on the other hand, obviously feels sexual heat for me, that's if his raging boner is anything to go by. That and his moans of desire.

I know from past experiences with Cory, rare as they may be, that he'll have a premature ejaculation if we make-out any longer, so I pull his pants down past his narrow hips to his ankles, his normal size boner bobs up and down as he goes, "Ooooh, God." I mumble, "Step out of those pants, Cory," and I take mine off too. I stroke his boner twice and feel it's wet with precum, then turn around, murmuring, "Try not to go too fast, okay?" He grunts, "I can't breathe," as I feel the head of his cock at my asshole. Holding me at the waist, and moving only his hips, he humps the head of his cock past my sphincter muscle and groans, then mumbles, "I'm gonna cum," but he doesn't. His chest is up against my back as he rubs his hands on my stomach. He puts his face against the back of my shoulder, breathing in fast bursts. I can feel the warm moist bursts of air on my right shoulder blade. Inch by inch his boner goes up my ass with quiet whines of sexual arousal from Cory. He's hugging me now with his arms capturing my arms and against my sides giving me a touch of claustrophobia. When his boner's all the way inside me, he moves his face back and forth against the back of my shoulder and presses his groin tightly against my ass. Not moving for fifteen seconds or so, he murmurs, "I'm gonna try it now, I think I'm okay." I feel his body shuddering against my back as he moves only his hips slowly pulling his boner back out of me. His toes are against my heels as he moans, "Mmmm, oh my God, mmmm." A hard cock feels awesome in my ass even if I'm not particularly aroused, so I tighten the muscles in my rectum to increase the awesome feel of his cock. As he pushes it back up my ass he's making a long hissing sound sucking air in past his mostly closed mouth. Then three faster trips back and forth in my ass gets my dick to finally take notice and it stirs. More steady back and forth penetrations as he moves his face back and forth against my back, and then he starts fucking me fast, moaning constantly. My rectum sends out pleasure sensations as my prostate sizzles and I finally have a nice boner, but almost immediately, Cory yells, "Aaaaah, oooh, fucccck." His groin's plastered against my ass and he's humping against by butt cheeks. I feel one shot of spunk hit the walls of my bowels, then another! It's rare to feel more than the first one. It's extremely sloppy in my rectum now and cum is running down the back of my ass cheeks with Cory making desperate strangling sounds. Bumping his forehead against my shoulder he fills me up with his creamy spunk, teaming with spermatozoids, that are blindly searching for an egg that doesn't exist. He whines without moving and then begins rapid out of control thrusts with his cock until it pulls entirely out of my ass and goes up against my right butt cheek. He keep humping it against me, up and down, up and down tightly against the skin of my butt cheek. It moves flatly between us spreading cum around my right buttocks and his groin. Cum is drooling out of my ass and rolling down the back of my legs now. "Oooh, oooh, God," from Cory, his body's shaking and his forehead's bouncing off my shoulder again, then he lays against my back unmoving and gasping for air, his heart's beating against my back as fast as a hummingbird's heart. After twenty seconds, he murmurs, "I feel week, I gotta sit down." He backs up and sits on the same desk chair I used for his haircut.

I turn around and squeeze his shoulder affectionately, quietly saying, "That was a good one, Cory." He's taking deep breaths, then he gasps, "I know I made a jackass of myself, but I honestly thought I'd pass out when I climaxed. I swear to God I thought I was going to collapse. It was intense, surreal, the whole thing was like out of this world, and I wasn't even as nervous as I was last time, but wow that's a rush like no other. I can't even explain how awesome it was. Jesus, I thought I'd never stop cumming. Your, um, rear end, it's like magical." I say, "You've got yourself a hot cock there too Cory." He shrugs, muttering, "Man, that was awesome and nothing like a hand job, nothing at all like a hand job." I pass him a box of Kleenex and he pulls a few tissues out and absently wipes his dick, then looks up at me, and asks, "Can I lay down? I'm sorry for being such a wuss, but I gotta lay down." I go, "Sure," and taking hold of his arm I help him up and over to the bed. He lays on his stomach, takes another deep breath, and mutters, "Thank's, Dylan." He does what I often do, he buries his face in my pillow. I don't bury my face in my own pillow, but when I get the chance I bury my face in other guy's pillows so I can enjoy their scent. "I'm gonna clean up, Cory. Lay there as long as you like." In the bath room I check the back of my legs in the mirror and there's a lot of cum all the way down to the

back of my legs to my heels. That boy had an enormous load in his nuts and he shot all of it up my ass. I wonder how many days he went without jerking off looking forward to fucking me. And I use the word 'fucking' loosely here. Hell, I never came close to an orgasm. This doesn't even count as buddy sex. It was, um, therapeutic sex for a friend. I wonder if sex therapist have therapeutic sex with their patients? That'd be a little dicey I'd imagine. Anyway, I use a washcloth to clean my legs and ass, dry off and then wash my face and hands. Back in the bedroom Cory's on his back now, hugging my pillow to his chest smiling. He says, "How you keep from laughing out loud at my pathetic screwing attempt is amazing to me, Dylan. If I wasn't so turned on I'd laugh at myself. What a fucking wuss I am. Look at my face." Yep, it's dark red from another deep blush. He says, "I'm totally humiliated, but other than that I feel great! Ha ha."

Sitting on the edge of the bed I say, "You need a boyfriend." He goes, "Yeah, I fought myself about admitting I was gay like forever, and I'd probably still be denying it to myself if it weren't for you. Then I tried telling myself I'm only gay with you, but that's bullshit too and I know it. So, yeah, I need a boyfriend. How the hell am I gonna accomplish that though? You helped me get over some of my shyness, but I'm not exactly gregarious and outgoing with strangers and I don't really have any friends, not real friends. Except you, and you're already taken." I go, "Next weekend at the welcome home party for Connor and Dodger, I'm gonna introduce you to a gay friend of mine who I think you'll like a lot." He says, "I'd like to be Connor's boyfriend, but he's in the Army. We've been emailing and he's really nice." I go, "Yes, Connor's a sweetheart. I love that kid, and you definitely should stay friends with him because he won't be in the Army forever. Two years seems like a long time to us now, but it's not in reality and will pass faster than you think. In the meantime check out my friend, Seth." He goes, "I'd love to meet him! Any one you introduce me to I know will be awesome." I grin and pat his leg, saying, "Lets get dressed and have some dinner." As we're getting dressed, he says, "I don't feel right you buying me dinner again," and I go, "Don't give it a thought, Cory, it's my pleasure. I like doing things for my friends." He shrugs, "Well, I don't feel right about it, but thank you. You're like one in a million, ya know that?" I go, "One in a million? I was hoping to rank higher than that." He goes, "Okay, one in a million, fifty."

Outside it's pouring rain. I see his shit box car in the second row of parked cars so we shouldn't get too wet. I don't even own an umbrella, umbrella's are for girls and nerds. We stand in the doorway looking at the rain, as I ask, "How'd you get such a good parking spot, Cory?" He says, "I don't know, it was an empty spot so I took it." Hmmm, there's something going on between me and this parking lot, I can never find a close spot to park. We make a mad dash for the car getting wetter than I expected. The 99 restaurant isn't far from our apartment, it's a mile down from Bertucci's on the other side of the street. Cory's right, the ninety-nine is always busy with lots of cars in the parking lot. Their food is very reasonably priced for one thing, but I've only been there once myself and I think it was part of the celebration for graduating high school. I forget if I liked the food or not. We wipe the rain off our heads as Cory apologizes, "Sorry I acted the fool, Dylan, when we, um, you know did it. It's just such a hugely exciting thing to fulfill a dream, and to do it with you is amazing. I'm not kidding about that either, truly amazing." I go, "No more putting yourself down, Cory, please. Okay? You did fine and I'm happy for you." He nods his head grinning, "Got 'cha, I promise not to bring it up again, it just that you've helped me so much and..." I go, "Cory! No more, please. We're going to the ninety-nine restaurant. I'll tell you about Seth over dinner, okay?" He grins, "Right, got 'cha," and starts the car. Surprisingly it starts right up. As if reading my mind, he says, "It looks like a junker, my car does, but I know a guy from high school who's a genius with car motors. We're not exactly friends, but we got along okay in high school. I guess because he's kinda a loner like me, so once in a while we hang out." I go, "Could he be gay?" Cory says, "Ralph? No way! He's got this girlfriend, a fat girl actually, who he claims he's in love with. He confided in me during our senior year he got her pregnant." "Did she have the baby?" He goes, "Not that I know of. I'm pretty sure she didn't or he'd be telling me about the baby, but I don't know exactly what happened."

On the way we pass Dick's liquor store. This guy Dick is apparently not too bright, although I've never been in the place or met him. His sign says, DICK LIQUOR instead of Dick's liquors. Maybe he's a dick licker, I don't know. The sign could be advertising something besides just liquor. There's a Chinese restaurant in town called HUNG FAR LOW which probably the owner doesn't get the humor that some might interpret from his sign, or maybe he's boasting. At the restaurant we make another mad dash for the door. Inside the place looks larger than it appears to be from the outside, so we get seated right away. We check the menus, drink some water, and look around. Nothing special decor-wise. Kind of drab and the table's sticky, plus the silverware looks like it's made of tin and it's wrapped in a small paper napkin. There are lots of families with children around us, and there's lots of booze being served to the parents, maybe because of the children. The kids are a little bit wild and loud at the two tables next to ours. Oh well, on the other hand, the ninety-nine offers nine entrées for $9.99, so that's fairly inexpensive for a restaurant dinner. Cory look up from his menu, and says, "This is really a nice restaurant, Dylan. Everything looks and sounds really delicious! I don't know what to get." I smile, wondering if we both have the same menus. Maybe Cory's referring to the glossy pictures of the entrées in the menu. The food does look very enticing, but then so does the food in the pictures of burgers at McDonalds. What actually gets served is another story. It's but a poor representative of the pictures, hardly recognizable as the same thing actually. I'm worried that will be the case here.

Then things brighten-up as a our waiter appears. A redhead with a recent buzz cut and freckles across his nose and big blue eyes to go with a really cute smile. His boyish sounding voice asks, "How are you tonight, welcome to the ninety-nine. I'll be your waiter tonight, my name is Stephen. Would you like a drink to start off with?" I say, "Yes, Stephen, two draft beers," and he spouts off about twelve beers available on tap. I choose Coors and off he goes. Cory asks, "Do you know him? We don't look twenty-one and he didn't even ask for ID." I shrug, "It almost never works, but once in a blue moon if you ask confidently for a beer an inexperienced waiter or waitress, or one who's worn down and doesn't give a shit any more, will just get what you ask for rather than argue with you. This kid's cute, don't you think?" He goes, "Ya think? Ha ha, cute doesn't do him justice." I go, "Huh, I'm pretty sure you need to be at least twenty-one to serve booze, but he doesn't look like he's out of high school." Steven returns with our beers, sets them down, then recites the specials. He has a chipped front tooth adding to his very Huck Finn, boyish appearance. The chip tooth also causes all of his sibilant 'S's to make a small whistling sound. To keep him talking I ask him if the ninety-nine is similar to The Loft restaurant that's about three miles further up the road. He whistles "Similar styles, yes," and I grin at him trying not to chuckle. Fuck, he's so cute. I ask him about the salmon which I wouldn't order if it was free, but it starts with the letter 's'. He whistles, "The salmon is served with a butter sauce," three whistles there. I finally say, "You're awesome, Stephen, I'll have the fried chicken." He whistles, "Super choice," and Cory orders grilled Angus meatloaf.

When Stephen leaves Cory laughs, then says, "You're awful, Dylan. Making him say words beginning with 'S'." I go, "He's cute with that whistle. Did you see how pink his mouth is and those white teeth of his? Jeez, what a make out he'd be." Cory then surprises me by pointing out Stephen's great ass and large bulge in his pants, then he says, "So he must be really hung, huh, Dylan?" I didn't realize Cory was undressing our waiter in his mind like I was. I figure Stephen will definitely have freckles on his arms and ivory white skin with bright orange pubic hair like Sonny. Heh heh. My so-called country fried chicken dinner supposedly comes with garlic mashed potatoes which mean they'll be lumpy because the potatoes aren't whipped. Also what they call country gravy comes with the meal and I don't think I've ever had that. It sounds like a Southern thing. The dinner also includes corn, a honey glazed biscuit, and cranberry sauce. With the meatloaf Cory's supposed to get scallop potatoes, a red wine sauce for the meat, and sautéed mushrooms, plus onion rings. Both entrées sound good and their picture looks good, now all that remains to be seen is how they look and taste in reality. We drink out beer as I tell Cory about Seth. Just for shit's and giggles when I say 'Seth' I purposely make a little whistling sound and we get into a childish giggling fit. Cory says, "Stop making fun of him, he's a sweet guy." I go, "I wouldn't make fun of him to hurt his feelings in a million years. I think he's the coolest waiter I've ever had."

Stephen brings the meals and as he serves mine his face is close and I see peach fuzz on his upper lip. I go, "Do you mind if I ask how old you are?" He grins at me, "In here I'm twenty-one, but in school I'm eighteen. My dad's one of the cooks, he got me the job," and then he puts his finger, pointing up, to his lips, and whistles, "Shhhh,' with his cute grin. I could eat him up. He takes off and Cory says, "I think I'm in love." For the first time I look at my plate of food instead of at Stephen, and ask Cory, "Do you think we got what we ordered?" He says, "It doesn't look like the picture, but there's plenty of whatever this is." He cuts off a piece of his meat and chews it, swallows and says, "Meatloaf, it's good." I try mine and it's fried chicken covered with the pale gravy, the country gravy. It very different, but good too so I go about eating everything on my plate except the canned corn. The food is far, far away from gourmet food, but tasty and it was served hot. When we're done eating the corn is left on my plate and nothing's left on Cory's. He asks, "Can I have your corn?" We exchange plates and he eats the corn too. A bus boy, who isn't cute at all, clears away the dishes and then Stephen reappears, "How was your meal?" We tell him it was very good and he asks, "Dessert?" as he passes dessert menus. I point at the picture of a chocolate sundae asking, "Is this any good?" He whistles, "The sundae?" I nod, and he goes, "The sundae's super," exaggerating the whistle, then he laughs, and says, "I chipped my tooth yesterday and I'm sort of enjoying the whistle as much as you are." What a hot shit this kid is. He knew I was busting his chops, and he knew it was all in good fun. We both get sundaes and coffee. I leave a big tip and then we're outside. The rain has stopped and I'm dying for a cigarette, but I won't smoke around Cory, so I ask, "What do ya wanna do now?" Cory says, "Will I be considered boring if I head for home now? I've got to cover for a part time supervisor's shift early tomorrow morning and then do my own shift. I'd better get some sleep. You've been fantastic, Dylan." I say, "It's been fun, Cory." He grins, then mumbles, "I don't have words to express how grateful I am to you for everything! Thank you." I say, "You're welcome and you're not boring for going home now, it's the sensible thing to do." He drives me home saying he hasn't felt this full ever, and he loves eating in restaurants but he rarely gets the chance to. It makes me feel sad for him that the ninety-nine restaurant is like some big treat. And he never says anything about feeling sorry for himself, ever. That wouldn't be Cory. I give him a kiss goodnight and he says he's coming over tomorrow for another haircut... ha ha. What a great kid.

to be continued... Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com (mailto:thinat20@yahoo.com)

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